A collection of one-shots featuring various Pedro Pascal characters. Including: Din Djarin, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Pike, Dave York, Javi Gutierrez, Oberyn Martell, Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, and Max Phillips. Most contain expl...
summary: It's a Friday night, and you ask your husband, Javier, that very important question every girl wants to know their partner's answer to— "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
rating: General (This is FLUFF! And a little silly. No y/n, Husband Javier Peña, Dad-to-be Javier Peña, Javier being so in love with his wife, domestic fluff, pregnancy, language, feelings, Javier being very serious about his answer)
word count: 575
a/n: This can be read as a standalone or as part of the Learning to Live 'verse. To me, it is canon. Anon asked, "What would Javi answer if Cielito asked him "would you still love me if I was a worm?"" And the answer to the ask was SO CUTE I needed to write it out. Please enjoy this unbeta'd fluff!
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"Javi?"
It's a Friday night, and you're lying in bed with your head propped by a fluffy pillow and your shirt pushed up to just below your breasts. The love of your life and your husband, Javier, was further down on the mattress, his feet and some of his legs hanging off the bed and resting his head on your belly, your fingers sliding through the soft, thick strands of his hair.
There'd been a lull in your conversation before you spoke, both comfortable in the silence and the other's company.
"Yes, Cielito?" he answers.
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
For seconds, maybe even a minute, the only sounds in the bedroom are the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the floorboards creaking in the apartment above as the occupants move about.
"What...?" he finally asks.
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
"How did you become a worm...?" He sounds so confused.
"I don't know, magic? A curse?"
"Okay..." He moves, making a pained groan as he crawls up your body and ends up on his side with his arm beside your head to hold himself up, his face coming into your line of vision. His soft, big, chocolate-colored eyes are on yours. "Can I be a worm, too?" he asks, his other palm a warm comfort on your tummy.
His question makes you smile. "Unfortunately, no. I'd be doomed as a worm, and you'd still be human."
He frowns, letting out a sigh like he's beyond disappointed that he can't be a worm, too, and you have to hold back a giggle.
"Yes, I'd still love you," he says. "I love you as a human. I'd love you as a worm. I'd love you if you were a—I don't fucking know—a flower or some shit. I love you no matter what, but I prefer you as a human—really fucking prefer you as a human, carrying our baby." He rubs your stomach.
Tears are falling down your cheeks, unable to keep them at bay no matter how hard you've tried.
"I can't believe I'm crying about you loving me if I was a worm."
He smiles, the hand on your belly coming up and gently wiping away the wetness under your eyes and on your cheeks.
"It's the pregnancy hormones, mi amor (my love)," he replies.
His palm returns to the place that has become its home on your stomach, where you aren't even showing yet, but he always wants to touch and marvel because of the baby growing inside.
"You cried yesterday when I asked if you liked your ice cream cone," he continues.
You sniffle. "It was a really good ice cream cone."
"Yeah, I know it was." He presses a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips. When he pulls back, he asks, "Where did the worm question come from?"
"Oh, Robyn." She's your best friend. "She asked Seb the same thing." That's her boyfriend and Javi's cousin.
His eyebrow lifts, looking amused. "What was his answer?"
"He told her he'd still love her, and she'd have the nicest terrarium to live in."
He scoffs. "Yours would be better," he says.
A snort escapes you. "Yeah? Mine would be better?"
His nose nuzzles yours. "Absolutely. Only the best for my worm wife."
Air sputters from between your lips and quickly evolves into full-on laughter.
