Thank You For Including My Little Story On This List!

Thank you for including my little story on this list! 😍

Sanctuary update - new works and authors added ⋆｡°✩

thinking of rescheduling updates to twice a month. work is a b*tch

random fics of the day ⋆｡˚

Consuming internet content is your own responsibility. Most of it is 18+, also mind authors’ notes.

If you'd like to recommend a fic - welcome here, or tag me :3

by @kyberblade — Give It To Me In Basic — Din Djarin

by @always-andromeda — cardigan — Joel Miller

by @theclairvoyage — Centrifugation — Joel Miller

by @undercoverpena — in the locker room — Frankie 'Catfish' Morales

by @nonexistent-introvert — Lost — Joel Miller

by @thefrogdalorian — The Arrangement — Din Djarin

by @deakyjoe — Not A Place, But A Feeling — Joel Miller

by @yellowharrington — wildflower and barley — Joel Miller

by @oliviajdjarin — The Shittiest Goodbye — Javier Peña

by @ezrasbirdie — starstruck — Dieter Bravo

by @slvtforoldermen — Birthday Morning — Javier Peña

by @punkshort — roommates — Joel Miller

by @sawymredfox — Monsoon — Din Djarin

by @endlessthxxghts — Dr. Miller — Joel Miller

by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin — Sun To Me — Javier Peña

by @the-ginger-hedge-witch — Turns — Frankie 'Catfish' Morales

by @cavillscurls — crimson — Joel Miller

by @tightjeansjavi — Rosy — Joel Miller

by @lunitawrites — Heavy Rain — Joel Miller

by @joelsgreys — what he didn’t do — Joel Miller

by @saradika — invisible string — Din Djarin

by @the-scandalorian — like a moth to the flame — Din Djarin

by @goodwithcheese — Light — Joel Miller; Sight — Dave York; Fight — Jack Daniels / Whiskey

by @chronically-ghosted — fade into you , stay sexy and don’t get murdered — Dieter Bravo

by @jobean12-blog — Slow Ride — Joel Miller

by @juletheghoul — Castaways — Frankie 'Catfish' Morales

by @burntheedges — Worth It For Once — Frankie 'Catfish' Morales; caught in the rain — Marcus Pike

by @opheliasflora — I Could Find My Way Back — Marcus Pike

by @bitchesuntitled — Paper Rings — Marcus Pike

by @ladamedusoif — Coup de Foudre — Lucien Flores

by @ozarkthedog — KNUCKLES DEEP , BREATH BY BREATH — Joel Miller

by @kedsandtubesocks — be your hallowed ground — Ezra

by @bitchslappin — Figure Studies — Joel Miller

by @fuckyeahdindjarin — Voicemail — Joel Miller

by @rhoorl — Weathered In — Frankie 'Catfish' Morales

by @mothandpidgeon — It’s a Bad Wind that Don’t Blow Somebody Some Good — Ezra

*smooches*

Oh most DEFINITELY Marcus coded! I’m glad you liked it 😍

Paper Rings

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: MDNI blog in general is 18+ go on now, get. Fluff, innuendos, panicked Marcus, cussing, think that's it?

Summary: Marcus wants to ask you an important question.

Mood board made by the amazing @jay-zzle, divider made by @saradika-graphics

Prompt by: @swiftispunk, let me know what ya think!

thank you @notjustjavierpena for taking a look at this and helping me with it! ❤️

Masterlist

Tonight’s the night, Marcus thinks on his drive home. He’s going to ask her to marry him. After their first date, he knew deep down she was the one. Three years later and the feeling hasn’t changed. He’s asked her dad’s permission, the ring has been sitting in his dresser for months now, the reservations have been made at Mastro’s Steakhouse. He clicks the remote for the garage as he pulls into the driveway, taking a deep breath in and out before getting out of the car and going into the house.

You hear the door open downstairs; Marcus must be home. Just in time too; he had told you earlier this morning about making reservations somewhere and to dress pretty like you always do. Working on the finishing touches of your makeup, you see his reflection in the bathroom mirror smiling at you, leaning against the doorway.

“Hey babe,” you greet him with a warm smile, “I am almost done. Is there anything you need to do to get ready?”

“Not much,” Marcus responds, walking away from the doorway to the dresser, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re still in the bathroom, and slowly opening the drawer he knows the ring is in, “Need to use the bathroom before we go and might change my suit jacket.” His hand creeps to the very back of the dresser, feeling for that velvet box he knows all too well is there. His fingers touch it, grasping it in his hand, quickly pulling it out, and shoving it into his jacket pocket just as you’re leaving the bathroom. He shuts the drawer quickly and turns to look at you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, giving him a suspicious look.

“Nothing,” he replies, raising his eyebrows, noticing the lone pair of socks on the floor that escaped the drawer as he was pulling the ring out, “Was going to change my socks. My feet feel gross.”

“Okay?” You giggle, shaking your head, getting your shoes on, “Weirdo.”

“Shush, you love me and wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins at you, picking up the socks and going to sit on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You grin, “Will you help me with the back of my dress?”

He helps zip your dress up, giving the back of your neck a light kiss, shucking off his suit jacket, and laying it on the bed on his way to the bathroom.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.”

__

“Where are we going?” You ask, looking over at Marcus, waiting for the red light to change.

“Now what’s the fun in telling you when it is supposed to be a surprise?” He says, squeezing your thigh, “Patience.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. The car starts moving again when the light turns green. Marcus is so meticulous in everything he does. Always has a plan, a certain way of doing things, likes to be spontaneous to an extent but usually always a set schedule. You love those things about him, he’s the comfort in the chaos that life can sometimes be. He pulls  into one of the fanciest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“Oh my god, Marcus,” you whisper, “How on earth did you get a reservation?”

“I was able to make some calls,” he says, stepping out of the vehicle, making his way to your door. “Had some people who owed me some favors.” He explains, opening your door for you and offering his hand. You take his hand and let him lead you. Handing off his keys to the valet. Walking into the restaurant you are greeted by the hostess.

“Good evening, sir,” she says with a bright smile, “Name?”

“Should be under Pike.”

“Ah yes, right this way.” She says, marking in the book and grabbing a couple menus before leading the way.

You cannot believe your eyes looking around at this place. There is a bar, a live jazz band playing, and plenty of couples sitting at the other tables.

“Is this table okay, Mr. Pike?” The hostess asks when she stops at an empty table.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” Marcus smiles, stepping over to the chair closest to you and sliding it out for you.

“Your waiter will be right with you.” She says, giving a small nod setting the menus down on the table.

You sit in the chair, grabbing the menu, watching Marcus move to the other side of the table to sit down across from you.

“So, Mr. Pike,” you smirk, “What on earth is the special occasion?”

“Just wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he replies, cocking an eyebrow, “Is that not allowed?”

“You’re up to something.”

“I am not,” Marcus grins, opening his menu, “What do you think you’ll have?”

“I’m thinking the salmon, although those crab cakes would be a good start, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“Good evening and welcome to Mastro’s Steakhouse, I’m Jared and I’ll be your waiter this evening.” A young man who approaches the table says, “Can I get you two something to drink?”

“I want whatever wine pairs the best with the New York strip, sweetheart?”

“You know, I’ll think I’ll do the same thing he’s doing, Mr. Wine Connoisseur over there,” you laugh, “Whatever pairs well with the salmon dish.”

“Alright, I will ask the chef what he thinks would be the best.”

“Oh!” You say as Jared starts to leave the table, “Crab cakes! We want the crab cakes as our appetizer.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

—

It’s now or never, Marcus thinks. The evening went exactly how he wanted it to, the meal was fantastic, the wine amazing, the dessert ordered to go will be arriving soon. This is the perfect moment to ask her.

“You know,” Marcus says, grabbing your hands, rubbing them softly, “You were right, I do have something special planned for us.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Marcus takes a deep breath in and lets it out, “Babe, I knew from the moment that I met you I wanted to be with you.”

He pulls your hands to his lips and gives them a soft kiss.

“After our first date, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.”

He stands up and gets down on one knee. You can hear people begin to whisper around you, watching the scene before you unfold.

“Oh my god” You say holding his hand tighter, “Marcus?”

“Baby, I love you so very much and I—” he says, patting the pocket of his suit jacket. “Fuck.”

“Babe?”

“No, no, no,” Marcus says, frantically searching his suit jacket and pants. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“Marcus,” you say, holding his face, “Look at me.”

He looks up at you with those big brown eyes you love. “I swear there’s a ring. I changed my jacket not even think—"

“Babe, I don’t care.” You smile, interrupting his panicked ramblings, “Ask me.”

“But the ring?”

“Don’t care, ask me.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck slotting your mouth against his. You can hear several of the other patrons clapping.

“Congratulations!” Jared says, returning to your table with your dessert.

“Thank you!” You say, beaming with joy.

—

On the drive home you can’t stop smiling like an idiot while holding Marcus’ hand. This is everything you dreamed about as a little girl; finding the perfect person to spend your life with and that is Marcus through and through.

“I still can’t believe I forgot the fucking ring!” Marcus says, shaking his head.

“Babe, you could’ve asked me with a ring made of paper and I would’ve said yes,” you laugh, “That’s the last thing I care about.”

“Well, a paper ring would be better than nothing!”

Approaching a gas station on the side of the road, an idea popped into your head.

“Stop!” You yelp, “Stop at that gas station!”

Marcus gives you a sideways look but pulls in regardless. Never one to refuse your requests.

“Cash?” You ask with your sweetest smile.

“Why’d we stop here?” He asks, rolling his eyes while getting his wallet out and handing you a twenty. You just give him a mischievous grin while getting out of the car. The door dings when you step into the gas station, making a beeline to the candy aisle and finding exactly what you were looking for: A bag of ring pops. Unable to contain your excitement, you let out a little squeal while grabbing them and head to the front.

“That’ll be $4.98.” The cashier says after ringing up your candy. You slap the twenty down on the counter and grab the bag running out.

“Thank you! Keep the change!” You shout behind you.

Getting back to the car, you see Marcus shaking his head trying to hold in his laughter. You make quick work of opening the bag, getting one singular ring pop out, and opening that as well, tapping on his window quickly, telling him to get out of the car.

“What on earth are you doing, honey?” Marcus laughs, opening the car door.

“You said something would be better than nothing,” you laugh, “Here’s something!”

You hand him the ring pop. He shakes his head looking at it.

“Baby,” Marcus starts looking up at you. “A ring pop? Really?”

“Marcus!” You huff, crossing your arms, “Are you gonna ask me?”

“Here?!” Marcus looks at you with surprise, looking at the ground, “Babe, this is a gas station parking lot!”

“And?”

“Babe, my pants—“

“Marcus Vincent Pike,” You scold, giving him a look that he knows means business.

“Okay, okay,” He says laughing, grabbing your hand, sliding out of the seat of the car with one knee on the ground, “Baby, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Duh!” You say, jumping up and down as he slides the ring pop onto your finger. “It’s beautiful!”

Marcus bursts into laughter as you shove the ring pop into your mouth. “Tasty too!” You say after popping it out of your mouth.

Marcus grabs your hand, lifting it to his mouth, pushing the ring pop in, hollowing his cheeks a little, letting out a soft sigh. You can feel your mouth getting dry while you watch him suck on the ring pop. The makeshift engagement ring makes a soft pop as he lets it leave his mouth.

“I can think of something that’s sweeter,” he says with a sly smile and wink, letting go of your hand.

Oh I’m rooting for this couple so much!!! 😍😭 The ending made me so giddy

4. lovesick

Let's Get Lost Chapter 4 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Summary: You and Frankie aren’t together anymore but you’re in a good place. However, spending a week together for your mutual friends’ wedding on a luxury resort might challenge that slightly and realising you’re still in love with your ex is a sure-fire recipe for disaster … Tropes: it was always you, getting back with the ex, beach!Frankie (you know *that* photoshoot) miscommunication, only one bed, good parent Frankie Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, references to past drug addiction, references to alcohol, historic argument referenced, one passing reference to body insecurity, reader is unnamed with no physical desctipton but wears a necklace, Frankie and reader are parents, yearning? Word Count: 3350 Notes: Thank you for the lovely feedback so far - it's meant so much to me and I hope you enjoy this update. I am so excited to share this chapter with you! The chapter title is from Laurel's song lovesick.

Previous | Series | Next

The nearby town is awake and full of life this morning. Dappled light warms your skin as you walk through the main street with the rest of your group. You can smell the salt air of the sea in the distance, interspersed with enticing smells of food as you walk past a bustling restaurant.

You could stay here forever.

Clara’s ahead of you, glued to Santiago and giggling happily as she animatedly tells him about everything she wants to do today. It sounds hectic, involving the beach, the summer club, and a truly incredible amount of ice-cream.

Next to you, Frankie has a soft smile on his face as you catch him looking at your daughter. He seems more relaxed at last. There’s a lightness to him again, his smile reaches his eyes and there’s warmth in his face again. You missed that.

You missed him. You miss him.

Living a life agonising over what could have been is wrong. You made the right decision to leave Frankie at the time. You know that.

You and Clara deserved better than the life that he was promising you both at that moment. Clara was, she is, the priority and quite simply, you didn’t want your child to grow up around active addiction. That’s not a bad thing. Frankie feels the same, he’s told you.

Frankie’s changed now though. Your Frankie’s back and that’s a complication you didn’t expect.

You’re happy for him. He’s lost that haunted look in his eyes; the shadows are lighter on his face. It’s even good to see him in those ridiculous patterned holiday shirts, to notice his hair is just a little longer and the curls are peeking through again and look clean and healthy. He’s not been wearing his hat on holiday and there’s something about seeing his hair like this that makes you want to run your hands through it.

You cannot ruin Benny and Lia’s wedding though. You can suppress this.

You have to.

You’re so close to Frankie right now though.

It happens without thought. You’re not sure who initiates it , whether it’s you or Frankie, but somehow as your arms unconsciously move with the stride you take, your fingers have brushed his. Then they’re entwined. Gently, barely touching really, but linked all the same.

It feels electric.

It feels dangerous.

What are you playing at? Is this wrong? Is it cruel to Frankie? Or you? And what about your daughter? She needs consistency, she needs structure. Not the messed up will they, won’t they? you and her Frankie could develop into.

This feels natural though. It reminds of you of how things used to be. Hand in hand walking down the city streets after dinner, so incontrovertibly in love with him. Lia used to joke you were couple goals, until you weren’t.

The memories you’ve tried to avoid since your breakup, to suppress so that the heartbreak of losing him wasn’t so sharp, are flooding back. It’s too much, it’s too hard.

It’s too messy.

You need the wall back up. You need the pillow barrier to better fight these thoughts back, to fight these stupid tiny gestures.

It’s harmless though, right?

You’re holding hands, you’re hardly pressed against the wall in a sweaty mess. So it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Santi looks back and he meets your eyes. You watch him look down fleetingly and then back at you. No one else would notice it, you’re not even sure Frankie does. You do though. You see how his face changes, the disappointment, something unreadable there too. He shakes his head just slightly.

It’s enough for you to withdraw, to walk towards Clara, making a fuss of her instead.

This is meant to be a family holiday for her, it’s meant to be about Benny and Lia’s wedding.

You can’t do this.

As the steam from the shower dissipates, you notice your reflection looks just a little healthier; a little less weary. While your mind has been running away with you, you realise that the holiday itself might be helping.

You haven’t thought about checking your work emails in days, you haven’t thought about that project or any of it. You feel a little more like yourself again which probably makes sense because you’re at the halfway point now. It always feels like you just start to enjoy and relax in your breaks as the end looms closer.

You place your damp towel back on the radiator and tug at the waistband of your loose trousers one final time. You take a deep breath, applying the finishing touches to freshening up your appearance by liberally spritzing your perfume on your neck and wrists. The warmth of the cardamom scent immediately soothes you further.

You move to put your necklace back on. It’s one you wear every day, you’re not sure how it started but you feel naked without it now. You can’t seem to get the clasp on. The more you try, the more your fingers feel clunky and sweaty and panic rises in your stomach.

You need this necklace to be able to go to lunch, you irrationally tell yourself, adding more unwanted pressure, making your fingers even more slippery.

“Crap,” you exclaim as you almost drop the necklace down the sink.

“Everything okay?” You hear Frankie ask, his soft voice a balm on your panic.

“Uh, hey Frankie, can you help me for a second?”

“Sure, sure. Are you um, are you decent?”

“Yeah, yes, um …” It hadn’t occurred to you that it might have sounded like you weren’t and for a second you try and think about all the scenarios where it might have been something else.

Frankie opens the bathroom door and closes it behind him gently. “Everything okay? You look alright?”

“I can’t get my necklace and I almost dropped it down the sink and - my hands are all sweaty?”

“It’s no problem.”

You hand him the jewellery quickly and he smiles. “You wear this every day, don’t you? I think you were wearing it when we met.”

“I would have been.”

”It’s pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“Can you turn around?”

You oblige, shifting so that Frankie can easily place the necklace around your neck.

“There,” he says after a second.

“Thanks.”

You turn around so you’re facing him. He’s already ready for your late lunch and you can see he’s caught the sun just a little this morning. The guys had been zip-lining earlier after your breakfast in the town - Benny’s idea for a more inclusive, sober, stag event. All of you had already been diving earlier in the week - you love being in the water, it had been like coming home.

Right now, it feels like that moment when you first start a dive though. That momentary pause of doubt as you rely on the oxygen tank, as you sink down deeper into the water’s secrets. It’s exhilarating and terrifying.

You feel like that here with Frankie now.

You move closer to him, taking in the woody scent of his cologne, the slight hint of coconut sunscreen on his arms. He’s here, he’s real.

You’ve missed him.

Your lips are on his without thinking. It’s a move so familiar that it’s pure instinct. You loop your arms around his neck, bringing him ever closer to you so you can feel his torso pressing against you.

He responds, hands in your hair, moving you against the wall as he kisses you deeply.

The two of you don’t need words. You never did.

His hand skims your face, moves down your neck towards your waist as he traces the contours of your body, rests his hands on the edge of your shorts, breathes heavily onto your neck before returning to your lips.

You can feel how he wants you. You can feel the anticipation building in your stomach. You need him, you realises as you trace your fingers on the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning it and feeling the heat of his skin, noticing the freckles coming out with all the sunshine here. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his lips feel against yours and his hands and you need him to move away from your waistband, beyond your cotton underwear to a point of no return.

This kiss already obliterates that barrier though, right?

His hands finally start to move down -

“Mummy,” your daughter calls and you immediately pull away from Frankie.

He looks at you, breathing raggedly.

“I’ll uh - I’ll go and check on her.”

“Yeah, I just, I just need a minute,” Frankie says in a low voice, his cheeks flushed.

“Right, yes, of course.”

“Mummy? Daddy?”

“Just coming,” you say, rolling your eyes at Frankie’s smirk and the slight shake of his head there. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Not quite,” you whisper teasingly.

“Well,” Frankie says, leaning in close again.

“MUMMY!”

“Dammit, I can tell you she’s definitely spent too much with Will. Fuck me,,” Frankie mutters. You’re not sure entirely what he means by referring to Will at that moment, but you’re too busy trying to quickly regain your composure, to get to your daughter. It’s something you can store to muse on later.

Reality calls.

The sound of the whirlpool covers the dull tones of discussion from others in the spa area. You take a sip of your tea, leaning back and shutting your eyes.

“So this is nice,” Lia says, the smile evident in the tone of her voice. “I feel like I’m finally relaxing a bit.”

“Good, you should.” How are you doing with all the prep and you - you’re marrying Benny!”

“I know, it’s … I don’t even know what to say. I love him. That’s it - I love him and I want this. I am so ready for this.” Lia smiles happily, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “It’s going to be great.”

“I’m so happy for you both, ‘m happy something so good came out of the last year or so.”

“Are you and Frankie - are you two okay still?” There’s caution in her voice. The anxious part of you wonders if perhaps it’s because she’s afraid you’ll ruin her wedding, cause a scene like you did at Will’s wedding. Guilt pools in your stomach because you shouldn’t make your friend feel like this.

You’re desperate to tell her.

I kissed him. It’s on the tip of your tongue, you can feel the words forming.

You want to tell her.

It was a damn good kiss after all.

Something stops you though.

“We’re good,” you say finally. “We’re friends again and we both want the best for Clara. That’s all that matters, right?”

“Yeah. I’m actually really proud of you both. This is pretty damn mature. I’m glad you’re not, I don’t know, just messing each other around. I know it was hard, I know the breakup and everything that happened - you’ve been really strong and I am proud of you.”

On any other day, her words would fill you with pride. Today though, guilt spreads through your body instead, searing heat of anxiety with it.

“So, ”

Your name is called as the massage therapist walks into the spa.

“Later,” you say to Lia apologetically before following the stranger out of the main spa, grateful for her interruption.

Massages are strange. They’re supposed to be relaxing but you find it hard to turn off your brain, the hints of anxiety about the parts of your body you’re less than comfortable with, whether or not you’re being judged and the underlying worry of what if you fall asleep? What if you snore?

This is a surprisingly relaxing experience though - your masseuse has checked her pressure, ensured you’re comfortable and you’re starting to relax a little, to lose a little of that tension you were holding. Soft piano music plays and you shut your eyes, trying to turn off your thoughts a little.

“So are you the bride? It’s a big wedding party, isn’t it?”

“No, my friend Lia is. I’m one of the bridesmaids.”

“That’s nice.”

“They met because of me though. Well, me and my ex.” You have no idea why you’re saying this but surely there’s a privacy code, right? You can’t tell Lia, or Sophia, or anyone. So why not a stranger?

“That’s nice.”

“It was … wasn’t the best scenario.”

“Oh.” The masseuse pays attention to a knot in your neck, releasing some of the waves of tension you’ve felt recently. Maybe that’s what makes you continue.

“We had an awful break up. At our friend’s wedding, who is in fact the brother of the groom. I mean awful too and public.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yep, talk about drama. And I think - no, no, I definitely did. I just kissed my ex today, like a proper in the movies, perfect cinematic kiss. That’s one thing, but I think I might still be in love with him. I’m going to ruin Lia’s wedding too, aren’t I?”

The masseuse pauses, you feel her lift her hands above your body.

“I’m going to give you a free face mask with this. I think - I think you need it.”

Eighteen Months Ago - Will’s Wedding, Florida You’ve been pretending all evening. You have become so skilled at pretending, you think you could give Meryl Streep a run for her money. It’s exhausting though. You’re exhausted. Next to you, Sophia is humming as she opens her lip gloss and tops up her makeup. She’s changed into a different dress for the evening; less dramatic and easier to dance in. She looks beautiful, there’s a warm smile on her face, her complexion is glowing and she looks serene. Part of you hates her for that. “You look great,” Sophia says as she catches you frowning at your own reflection. “I’m so glad you and Frankie are here. the way Will is with him and Santi, they’re as much his brothers as Benny. And after Tom -” “Yeah.” “It was nice that Molly came, right? I think Tom would have liked that.” “Definitely,” you say, even though from how Frankie used to talk about the divorce with Tom and Molly you are not so sure Tom is looking down grinning right now. Tom didn’t make it back though and Frankie barely did. You still don’t know much about what happened, Sophia doesn’t seem to either. The men don’t talk about it at all. You’ve lost your Frankie though. He didn’t need to die to not come back. It just means that no one knows you’re in mourning. You keep hanging on, you keep hoping. You’re sure there’s something you could do better to help get him back. “How’s Clara doing?” Sophia asks. “Great.” She hasn’t slept in weeks, maybe months. Sleep itself is a foreign concept now and no matter what you read, no matter what you try, your daughter just cannot sleep through a night. “And you and Frankie? Are you guys next - should I, uh, aim the bouquet towards you?” You laugh lightly, swallow the bitter taste in your throat and the words you can’t say. “Sure. Shall we head out?” You’re pretty sure Frankie is using again.

Now

You pull yourself out of the memories, not wanting to go any further into that night.

You remember the aftermath all too well though. The DJ was playing Murder on the Dancefloor and the irony of it still makes you almost laugh. Your relationship died on that dance floor to a fitting song.

Flashes come back to you against your will as you try and focus on the spa, on the now.

“I don’t think we can do this anymore. I love you, Frankie. God, I love you, but we can’t.” Frankie’s look of betrayal filtering through the residual high. The heaviness that here at Will’s wedding you’ve suddenly voiced the thoughts that have consumed you for weeks. Liquid courage and the image of Sophia’s face, so full of a hope you can’t imagine anymore, guided you to this moment. “Here, really? You’re just giving up on me?” “Tell me you’re sober, Frankie, swear it.” “Don’t do this here.” “We can’t do this anymore. We can’t. It’s not - I’m done, I can’t, Frankie, I can’t.” Your voice is panicked, rising. Echoed shouts, the feel of stares, so many stares. Music going quiet. Santi and Benny guiding you both away from everybody else. Tears. Yours. His. An ending. It’s over. You can’t come back from this.

You blink back tears. It was a bad break up and it would have been so much easier if you’d ever hated Frankie, if he’d ever hated you. Breaking up because you love someone but it’s not enough is a pain you hope your daughter never has to experience.

He’s different now though.

You’re different.

It would be different, wouldn’t it?

Clara’s curled up, fast asleep in her bed. Soft snores sound as you place your book on the bedside table.

“Hey,” Frankie says softly as he shuts the bathroom door carefully. “She looks exhausted.”

“It’s all that time in the playgroup and sun,” you reply affectionately.

“Do you think she’s having a good holiday?”

“Yeah, of course. I hope so.”

“Me too. It’s good to see her happy like this. I’m glad we did this. For her.”

“Same. She’s going to look adorable at their wedding, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe it’s only a couple of days away and then we’re -”

“I know.” In two days, Lia and Benny get married. You won’t wreck it, you won’t.

You look at the bed, the pillow barrier Frankie has automatically built. Neither of you have spoken about the kiss before lunch. When you returned from the spa and got ready for dinner, you had spoken about Clara and your books and anything but the kiss.

The pillows feel wrong though. You remember the start of the week, how it felt secure to have the pillows between, mature even. You are grown ups, friends and exes and the pillows protected that. However, the barrier is a merely a representation of the line you obliterated earlier. It can’t work anymore.

You’re not just co-parents.

You don’t know if Frankie feels the same though, if too much has happened now for the two of you to forge something new.

The pillows are a weight though. You look at Frankie and hesitantly move one of the pillows away from the barrier.

He smiles, almost imperceptibly and then he does the same from his side of the bed.

With the lights out, there are still so many words unsaid, so many conversations the two of you need to have.

You turn in the bed, feeling the warmth radiating from Frankie’s back. You hear him shift, the rush of air as he turns around and he’s facing you.

“Hi,” he whispers, reaching a hand to touch your face.

“Hi,” you reply.

Perhaps that’s the only word you need right now. The two of you are starting all over again.

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs.

LGL tag-list: @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beboldbebravethings@spishsstuff @bitchesuntitled@redcake333@missladym1981 @kungfucapslock @dinoflower-reads @kirsteng42 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @casssiopeia @beboldbebravethings @devotedlyshybarbarian @emilyfarias16 @sageispunk @amyispxnk @lola8888673 @maryfanson @lu62 @ilovepedro@katw474@softstarlite@titlee78@aquanatalie @girlofchaos

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

Well I’ll be damned. Never thought of that combo before… 👀😍🫠

Fic: Send Out the Morning Birds - Javi G x reader x Joel M

It's the lord's day, have some threesome smut-alluding goodness.

Title: Send Out the Morning Birds

Author: @ghotifishreads

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 700

Summary: The languid morning after the night before

Warnings: groping, beautiful men with lethal morning voices, hints of threesome shenanigans

A/N: @ozarkthedog and I were talking about Pedro’s voice and I said, something like “His morning sleepy voice must be something else," and then talked about how different Joel and Javi G would sound in the morning and I said “Why not both?” and Ozzie said, “I hate you now you have to write it (affectionate).” So then this happened?

Unbeta’d. Title from the song Hurricane by The Hush Sound

🔞Over 18s only, minors dni! 🔞 I do not give permission for my work to be republished, reposted, or translated.

++++++

It had started off simply enough. Javi wanted renovations. 

“The contractor is very handsome,” Javi says contemplatively, as if Joel Miller is a problem to be solved. 

“Taciturn but absolutely handsome,” you agree.

“Though I do not think he was appreciating my talking his ear off about Paddington 2,” Javi worriedly states, lips in a firm line and brow coiled. But what Javi missed was that you’d seen the contractor stop his work on fitting the cabinet to watch Javi’s passionate ramble, and that you’d seen the fondness in Joel’s eyes and the small smile before he grunted an agreement of sorts before turning back to his work.

“I don’t think he minded, Javi.” 

—

Now?

Sunlight pierces the veil of your slumber. Javi had clearly forgotten to draw the blackout curtains after last night’s activities.

You were also so warm. This wasn’t the sun, but the work of the two lumbering bodies bookending you in Javi’s California king bed.

From your left you feel a tentative, tingling touch along your collarbone.

“Mmm, buenos días,” Javi intones sweetly as his fingertips trail teasingly in longer and longer sweeps from your sternum, over the curve of your breast, and down to your waist, then back up all over again.

True to his sunshine demeanor, Javi’s woken up with the daylight, and greets you with a careful kiss that’s as eager and bright as the sun itself.  

You yawn, arching your back and curling your feet against the luxe Egyptian cotton sheets as your lover drags his teasing touch along you. 

“Good morning,” you whisper in greeting Javi, licking your lips as the ministrations of his fingers keep you arching into his touch, humming softly. You card your fingers through his chocolate waves hinted with gold.

You move slowly and languidly. For the mood and pace of the moment it feels right for the morning. But you’re also keenly aware of the other party in the bed, who may not be awake and who doesn’t strike you as a morning person.

To your right, a deep grumbling groan emits up from the mountain of man beside you. The sound runs so deep and bassy you feel it vibrating the sheets as much as you hear it. After last night, you know in the deepest hotspot of your pleasure precisely how that rumble feels against your skin, your cunt. 

You and Javi turn your attention to the broad expanse of Joel’s heaving shoulders and untidy silver-threaded dark locks in disarray from last night’s play as he stirs and rolls to face the pair of you. 

“Mornin’” he grits out, mashing the left side of his face into the pillow, while one beady eye stays on your face before his gaze alights on Javi’s occupied, softly stroking fingers. 

“Good morning, Joel,” you trill softly and sweetly, at the same time Javi says, “Buenos.”

His voice is deep but more delicate than Joel’s gritty greeting. 

“How do you feel?” you ask, cheating your body open towards the contractor to rake your fingers through hair, and so he can fully take in the view of Javi’s hands raising goosebumps on your flesh and wetness in your core. 

Now, under the watchful eye of Joel, the olive grove magnate’s fingers begin circling the protruding bud of your nipple.

You sigh heavily.

“Hmmm,” Joel hums. “Bit sore. But fucking good. Especially wakin’ up to this.”

His heavy hand snags your opposite hip and pulls you on top of him, “Sorry, Javi. Gonna just borrow our girl for a minute,” and finishes by palming the back of your head to guide your lips to his for a languorous kiss. Dragging himself out of slumberland as he drugs you with kisses.

Javi doesn’t miss a beat,and follows you across the bed. He props his head on his hand, wavy unruly hair falling across his forehead. His other hand busies itself cupping your ass now, guiding your hips to rut against Joel’s. 

The Spaniard lets out his own languid sigh at the sight of Joel’s tongue pressing past the seam of your lips. “I think it would be more than a minute, my good man. I do not blame you.”

++end++

Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed what you read, please do reblog or leave a comment, I’d be most grateful! Want to read more of my work? Take a peek at my masterlist here.

Thanks for including my story Jett! ❤️

A list of all my favourite MARCUS PIKE Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

PART 3

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

The Longest Night - @agentmarcuspike

The Interrogation Series - @charethcutestory02 Featuring Dave York & Javier Pena

I'm Here & Affirmations Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3 - @davnittbraes

Couples Getaway Series - @katareyoudrilling Featuring Dave York

The Sweepstakes - Marcus Pike & Marcus Pike Epilogue - @katareyoudrilling PornStar!Marcus

I Can't Believe You're This Innocent - @missredherring

A Baker's Dozen - Marcus Pike - @avastrasposts

She's Under The Weather - @nerdieforpedro

Birthday Kiss - Marcus Pike - @something-tofightfor

Dirty - @bitchesuntitled

Give & Take - @agentmarcuspike

Lost In Our Vices Series - @thetriumphantpanda Professor!Marcus

One Night - @secretelephanttattoo

The Art Of Healing Series - @northernbluess

All About That Bass - @katareyoudrilling

Love At First... Bite - @goodwithcheese

Prince F*ucking Charming - @toomanystoriessolittletime

The Louvre - @psychedelic-ink

Long Distance - @ladamedusoif

Confetti - @secretelephanttattoo

The Worthwhile Fight - @swiftispunk

Keep It - @jksprincess10

Butterflies - Spring Prompts - @nerdieforpedro

The Ghost Of You Series - @write-down-your-dreams Ghost!Reader

Playdate Series - @daddy-dins-girl Featuring Dave York

One Condition - @pedroshotwifey Featuring Ezra

Second Chances Series - @pedroscurls Neighbour!Marcus

Thanks for reblogging @gangrelispunk ❤️

Paper Rings

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: MDNI blog in general is 18+ go on now, get. Fluff, innuendos, panicked Marcus, cussing, think that's it?

Summary: Marcus wants to ask you an important question.

Mood board made by the amazing @jay-zzle, divider made by @saradika-graphics

Prompt by: @swiftispunk, let me know what ya think!

thank you @notjustjavierpena for taking a look at this and helping me with it! ❤️

Masterlist

Tonight’s the night, Marcus thinks on his drive home. He’s going to ask her to marry him. After their first date, he knew deep down she was the one. Three years later and the feeling hasn’t changed. He’s asked her dad’s permission, the ring has been sitting in his dresser for months now, the reservations have been made at Mastro’s Steakhouse. He clicks the remote for the garage as he pulls into the driveway, taking a deep breath in and out before getting out of the car and going into the house.

You hear the door open downstairs; Marcus must be home. Just in time too; he had told you earlier this morning about making reservations somewhere and to dress pretty like you always do. Working on the finishing touches of your makeup, you see his reflection in the bathroom mirror smiling at you, leaning against the doorway.

“Hey babe,” you greet him with a warm smile, “I am almost done. Is there anything you need to do to get ready?”

“Not much,” Marcus responds, walking away from the doorway to the dresser, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re still in the bathroom, and slowly opening the drawer he knows the ring is in, “Need to use the bathroom before we go and might change my suit jacket.” His hand creeps to the very back of the dresser, feeling for that velvet box he knows all too well is there. His fingers touch it, grasping it in his hand, quickly pulling it out, and shoving it into his jacket pocket just as you’re leaving the bathroom. He shuts the drawer quickly and turns to look at you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, giving him a suspicious look.

“Nothing,” he replies, raising his eyebrows, noticing the lone pair of socks on the floor that escaped the drawer as he was pulling the ring out, “Was going to change my socks. My feet feel gross.”

“Okay?” You giggle, shaking your head, getting your shoes on, “Weirdo.”

“Shush, you love me and wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins at you, picking up the socks and going to sit on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You grin, “Will you help me with the back of my dress?”

He helps zip your dress up, giving the back of your neck a light kiss, shucking off his suit jacket, and laying it on the bed on his way to the bathroom.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.”

__

“Where are we going?” You ask, looking over at Marcus, waiting for the red light to change.

“Now what’s the fun in telling you when it is supposed to be a surprise?” He says, squeezing your thigh, “Patience.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. The car starts moving again when the light turns green. Marcus is so meticulous in everything he does. Always has a plan, a certain way of doing things, likes to be spontaneous to an extent but usually always a set schedule. You love those things about him, he’s the comfort in the chaos that life can sometimes be. He pulls  into one of the fanciest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“Oh my god, Marcus,” you whisper, “How on earth did you get a reservation?”

“I was able to make some calls,” he says, stepping out of the vehicle, making his way to your door. “Had some people who owed me some favors.” He explains, opening your door for you and offering his hand. You take his hand and let him lead you. Handing off his keys to the valet. Walking into the restaurant you are greeted by the hostess.

“Good evening, sir,” she says with a bright smile, “Name?”

“Should be under Pike.”

“Ah yes, right this way.” She says, marking in the book and grabbing a couple menus before leading the way.

You cannot believe your eyes looking around at this place. There is a bar, a live jazz band playing, and plenty of couples sitting at the other tables.

“Is this table okay, Mr. Pike?” The hostess asks when she stops at an empty table.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” Marcus smiles, stepping over to the chair closest to you and sliding it out for you.

“Your waiter will be right with you.” She says, giving a small nod setting the menus down on the table.

You sit in the chair, grabbing the menu, watching Marcus move to the other side of the table to sit down across from you.

“So, Mr. Pike,” you smirk, “What on earth is the special occasion?”

“Just wanted to take you somewhere nice,” he replies, cocking an eyebrow, “Is that not allowed?”

“You’re up to something.”

“I am not,” Marcus grins, opening his menu, “What do you think you’ll have?”

“I’m thinking the salmon, although those crab cakes would be a good start, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“Good evening and welcome to Mastro’s Steakhouse, I’m Jared and I’ll be your waiter this evening.” A young man who approaches the table says, “Can I get you two something to drink?”

“I want whatever wine pairs the best with the New York strip, sweetheart?”

“You know, I’ll think I’ll do the same thing he’s doing, Mr. Wine Connoisseur over there,” you laugh, “Whatever pairs well with the salmon dish.”

“Alright, I will ask the chef what he thinks would be the best.”

“Oh!” You say as Jared starts to leave the table, “Crab cakes! We want the crab cakes as our appetizer.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

—

It’s now or never, Marcus thinks. The evening went exactly how he wanted it to, the meal was fantastic, the wine amazing, the dessert ordered to go will be arriving soon. This is the perfect moment to ask her.

“You know,” Marcus says, grabbing your hands, rubbing them softly, “You were right, I do have something special planned for us.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Marcus takes a deep breath in and lets it out, “Babe, I knew from the moment that I met you I wanted to be with you.”

He pulls your hands to his lips and gives them a soft kiss.

“After our first date, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.”

He stands up and gets down on one knee. You can hear people begin to whisper around you, watching the scene before you unfold.

“Oh my god” You say holding his hand tighter, “Marcus?”

“Baby, I love you so very much and I—” he says, patting the pocket of his suit jacket. “Fuck.”

“Babe?”

“No, no, no,” Marcus says, frantically searching his suit jacket and pants. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“Marcus,” you say, holding his face, “Look at me.”

He looks up at you with those big brown eyes you love. “I swear there’s a ring. I changed my jacket not even think—"

“Babe, I don’t care.” You smile, interrupting his panicked ramblings, “Ask me.”

“But the ring?”

“Don’t care, ask me.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck slotting your mouth against his. You can hear several of the other patrons clapping.

“Congratulations!” Jared says, returning to your table with your dessert.

“Thank you!” You say, beaming with joy.

—

On the drive home you can’t stop smiling like an idiot while holding Marcus’ hand. This is everything you dreamed about as a little girl; finding the perfect person to spend your life with and that is Marcus through and through.

“I still can’t believe I forgot the fucking ring!” Marcus says, shaking his head.

“Babe, you could’ve asked me with a ring made of paper and I would’ve said yes,” you laugh, “That’s the last thing I care about.”

“Well, a paper ring would be better than nothing!”

Approaching a gas station on the side of the road, an idea popped into your head.

“Stop!” You yelp, “Stop at that gas station!”

Marcus gives you a sideways look but pulls in regardless. Never one to refuse your requests.

“Cash?” You ask with your sweetest smile.

“Why’d we stop here?” He asks, rolling his eyes while getting his wallet out and handing you a twenty. You just give him a mischievous grin while getting out of the car. The door dings when you step into the gas station, making a beeline to the candy aisle and finding exactly what you were looking for: A bag of ring pops. Unable to contain your excitement, you let out a little squeal while grabbing them and head to the front.

“That’ll be $4.98.” The cashier says after ringing up your candy. You slap the twenty down on the counter and grab the bag running out.

“Thank you! Keep the change!” You shout behind you.

Getting back to the car, you see Marcus shaking his head trying to hold in his laughter. You make quick work of opening the bag, getting one singular ring pop out, and opening that as well, tapping on his window quickly, telling him to get out of the car.

“What on earth are you doing, honey?” Marcus laughs, opening the car door.

“You said something would be better than nothing,” you laugh, “Here’s something!”

You hand him the ring pop. He shakes his head looking at it.

“Baby,” Marcus starts looking up at you. “A ring pop? Really?”

“Marcus!” You huff, crossing your arms, “Are you gonna ask me?”

“Here?!” Marcus looks at you with surprise, looking at the ground, “Babe, this is a gas station parking lot!”

“And?”

“Babe, my pants—“

“Marcus Vincent Pike,” You scold, giving him a look that he knows means business.

“Okay, okay,” He says laughing, grabbing your hand, sliding out of the seat of the car with one knee on the ground, “Baby, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Duh!” You say, jumping up and down as he slides the ring pop onto your finger. “It’s beautiful!”

Marcus bursts into laughter as you shove the ring pop into your mouth. “Tasty too!” You say after popping it out of your mouth.

Marcus grabs your hand, lifting it to his mouth, pushing the ring pop in, hollowing his cheeks a little, letting out a soft sigh. You can feel your mouth getting dry while you watch him suck on the ring pop. The makeshift engagement ring makes a soft pop as he lets it leave his mouth.

“I can think of something that’s sweeter,” he says with a sly smile and wink, letting go of your hand.