#apart from the boots ofc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tieronecrush · 9 months

Text

part of me, apart from me

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

word count: 14k....its a whole thing okay?

summary:

kindly requested from a lovely anon "You and Javi had one kid together when you were very young, maybe you broke up due to his work schedule. You reunite at their college graduation 👀"

javier & you had daughter right after he graduated college, you with a couple years left yourself. when she was 15, he got the call to head to colombia, deciding with you to pursue his career and leave the two of you in the safety of laredo. seven years later, your daughter is graduating from college and javier is back home for good after cali, forcing himself to face what he finds are his failures, and hold out hope that you still feel the same as he does.

warnings (SPOILERS): BIG self doubt, self deprecation, heavy guilt, separated relationship, co-parenting, javier being in unrequited love, chucho being a king and a great grandfather & father, strained familial relationships on mother's side, discussions of death/violence/drugs, smoking, alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, use of spanish, javi has total DAD moments, he is a DILF ofc, dirty talk, oral sex (f & m (briefly) receiving), unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, becomes established relationship, etc.

a/n: i don't think the anon who requested this realized what it would do to my brain, but i have created a whole universe for this fic. i am in love with their little family and they will live forever in my head and heart. a huge thank you to my bestie el @northernbluess for screaming about javi, this fic, giving me the title for this, and beta-reading this long ass fic for me. love you friend!!!! hope you all enjoy, and that you love them as much as i do!

The engine of Javier’s truck cuts as he turns the ignition, the loud rumble of its mechanics quieting to reveal the sounds of birds chirping. For Texas in May, it’s a pretty mild day, sunlight shining bright against the blue sky. There’s a handful of wispy clouds above him as he opens the door and steps down from the cab, shutting it with a metallic click. He rolls his shoulders and swings his arms to loosen up, the sweat at the nape of his neck is from his nerves more than the temperature.

It’s been two years since he has seen his daughter, Liliana, in person. He’d come back from Colombia after everything that went down with the Cali cartel and the government only a mere 48 hours ago. He’s exhausted, but he made the drive from Laredo to College Station to see his princesa, the light of his life for the last twenty-two years, graduate from college. Specifically, his alma mater, Texas A&M University.

He has been counting down the days until he was back for this occasion, after repeatedly reminding everyone in the embassy that he would be out of the country. It just so happens that he doesn’t need to return to Colombia as he had originally planned.

A deep inhale and slow exhale attempt to calm the jitters that are trembling his fingers.

Fuck, he really wants a cigarette.

But Lili would kill him if he showed up smelling like burnt tobacco when he had promised a week ago he was on the Nicorette thing.

Instead, he shakes his head to himself and hooks his sunglasses in the open chest of his light blue short-sleeve button-up. Out of habit, he reaches to his lower back to feel for his pistol, his touch brushing denim.

Another inhale, slow exhale.

He can do this.

It’s you and his daughter. Two people that he loves. Two people he’s been working for.

Maybe that’s why he’s so fucking nervous.

How can you welcome him back every time he makes a visit? How can his daughter be excited to talk to him every week from across the equator? He’s been gone for years. Most of her teenage life, and nearly all of her college career. He’s only been back once since she moved to university. Once.

What a fucking asshole.

Certainly not a good father.

His boots tick against the pavement of the front path up to the dingy, weather-worn two-story house. He remembers getting photographs of Liliana in front of this house a couple of years ago, sent from you and stuffed in an envelope along with photos retelling her entire summer. That one of her standing proudly in front of this house hung on his fridge until he packed it up two days ago.

Every day he looked at it, he wished nothing more than to have been like one of her friends’ dads that helped with moving in and fixing up the house, maybe slipping her a hundred dollar bill to spend on groceries or alcohol on his way out to the car after saying goodbye.

Instead, he was stuck in Colombia under the thumb of the U.S. government and sleazy CIA agents that were controlling him like a puppet.

He’s here now, though. And he’s trying so hard to get over the tightness in his chest, to clear the lump in his throat, and to dry his sweaty palms when he gets up the creaky wooden steps and up to the front door. His middle finger presses the doorbell aggressively, taking a step back and shaking out his shoulders again.

Gaze focused on his shoes, he looked up as he heard the door unlock. A wide, genuine grin breaks out on his face when he sees Liliana in the threshold, that same smile copied and pasted onto hers, even down to the dimple on his right cheek.

“Tata (Dad)! You’re here!” she exclaims, jumping out of the door and hooking her arms around his neck. He laughs as he catches her, one arm wrapping around her waist and his other hand reaching up to hold the back of her head. He pets her long, brunette hair, squeezing her in a tight hug against his chest.

“Oh, Lili Pad. Missed you so much, mija.” He kisses the side of her head before loosening his hold on her, taking in the sight of his daughter after seeing her only through photographs for years.

“Tata, I’m graduating college tomorrow. Not little Lili Pad anymore.”

Her eye roll gives Javier’s attitude a run for its money.

Damn, she really got a lot from his gene pool.

The same deep brown eyes with hints of amber, softened and round give away their every emotion. The same mouth that finds a perfect pout, combined with those eyes he was always pushed over when she was younger. Anything she wanted, he would give to her. Even now.

She has your nose, though. Your ears. Your feminine facial structure. Your charming, warm personality.

“You’re always gonna be Lili Pad, amorcita. Always gonna be my babygirl,” he presses another kiss to her temple, unraveling her from him, “But you have grown into such a beautiful woman, Lili. You remind me of your mamá when she was your age.”

“There’s that Peña charm.”

He looks over his daughter’s shoulder and sees you leaning against the banister, arms crossed over your chest with a smirk playing at your lips. His heart rate increases to double speed, his now dry hands clamming up again as he drinks you in from head to toe.

Years away and he is still so fucking in love with you.

Another reason to curse his time in Colombia.

It was a mutual decision, to split up before he left. There was no timeline for how long he would be gone or when he could come back that first time he went down there.

And there was no way in hell he was putting the two most important people in his life in the middle of what was basically a fucking warzone.

So, that was that. Co-parents, and close friends.

And an agonizing ache every time he saw you since he left.

He grins right back at you, Lili waving him inside after her. Crossing the entryway to you, he opens his arms with a quirk of his brows.

Your smirk reaches its full stretch, shifting into a gracious smile as you drop your arms and step into his, snaking your hands around to his back. He holds you tightly, a shorter embrace than the one with Liliana but long enough for your signature scent to pull him back to being a young, dumb college student who was madly in love. A chaste kiss is pressed to your cheek before he pulls away.

“I’m pretty sure she gets that from you, amor. I don’t recall a time when you weren’t able to get what you wanted — everyone you meet thinks you’re a delight.”

“See? More charm. Laying it on a little thick, Jav,” you tease, hitting your fist against his bicep gently.

He glances at your arm when you lower it back to your side, catching the glint of the bracelet with Liliana’s initials in gold charms that is always on your wrist. He gave it to you after she was born, once she was taken home from the hospital and the two of you were standing over her crib watching her sleep. Ever since then, he’s never seen you without it.

“Alright, alright. Enough of the weird, complimentary back-and-forth you guys do. Do you wanna see the place before I move out, viejo?” Lili cuts in and Javi’s eyes leave your wrist to look at her with a smile.

“Ay, no soy viejo, princesa (Ay, I am not old, princess). Now lead the way and no more making fun of me,” he nods for her to walk ahead of him, taking a few steps and glancing back at you, “You not coming on the tour, amor?”

You shake your head and give Liliana a look that says ‘Care to explain?’. Being on the receiving end of that look many times, he knows it a bit too well coming from you.

“Mom is being amazing and helpful and wonderful like Mom always is and is packing my closet for me.” Lili cringes as she admits it to her father, Javier shaking his head and letting out a long exhale.

“Liliana, you have known you’re moving for months and you’ve waited until the day before graduation to pack? Dios, somos demasiado parecidos (God, we are too much alike),” he nods for her to continue walking as you laugh behind him, the sound traveling as you walk upstairs and bringing a faint smile to his lips as he follows his daughter.

He hovers around Lili’s room as you pace from her closet to the cases laid out on the floor, organizing everything and folding as you walk back and forth. Your daughter is downstairs, tasked with packing up her items from the kitchen and the living room. Javi’s been given the whole tour, now dropped off to “catch up with Mom”, as Lili put it.

Across the surfaces and walls, he spies the little gifts he’s sent her over his years away: all of the birthday cards he’s hand-picked and written letters in stacked in a box on her desk, the mola depicting lilies framed and hanging on her wall, the brightly colored Wayuu mochila that he’d bought from one of the open air markets in Bogotá hanging off of the door knob to her closet.

There’s a sharp pain in his chest when he sees the small picture frames sitting on her nightstand. He sits on the edge of her bed and picks them up one by one to study them. The first is a photo of you and Lili, smiling from ear to ear. He recognizes the photo as one he took on his visit before last, the one he made before Lili went to college. The pair of you are standing in the middle of an overgrown field on the Peña ranch, sun setting in the background. Lili insisted on watching the sunset all together on Javi’s last night at home, and he snuck the camera out with the three of you.

He has a copy of the photo right next to his bed, too.

Setting the frame down delicately, he picks up the next one, this one of Lili and him alone. It’s from years ago, the wide smile on Lili’s face showing off her missing front tooth. Javi grins back at his little girl in the photo, his eyes combing over to the younger version of him, way back when he was a sheriff in Laredo. It must have been during the holidays — there’s a shiny plastic red gift bow on his chest and Lili is wearing a knit sweater with a snowman on it.

Where did all the time go?

The last photograph grows the lump in his throat and the ache in between his ribs. It’s a photo of the three of you, one from his most recent visit a couple of years ago. Dressed up for a Dean’s Award ceremony that Liliana was nominated for. She looks like the spitting image of you, and you are absolutely glowing with pride for her. You two are so beautiful. He looks exhausted, anxiety in his eyes that never seems to have left since his first year in the DEA. It was around the time when he thought he was going to be able to stay, to be around for Lili and for you. He told you what happened in Colombia that got him sent home; you understood, of course, you understood why he did it all. And he admitted it all with the faintest smile on his face, the thought of getting to settle was appealing more and more to him.

And then he got the call.

He battled with the decision.

He talked to you about it.

You said, “We’re always gonna be here, Jav. You need to go. What’s a few more years?”

Everything. A few more years was everything.

He missed so much.

“You okay, Jav?”

He looks up from the photo in his hands, eyes focusing back on the room instead of a million miles ahead. You are kneeling next to one of the suitcases, carefully placing some of your daughter’s clothes in neatly. Those eyes you’re giving him turn his brain to mush, all of the escalating thoughts dripping away.

“Yeah, yeah, all good. Reminiscing,” he nods to himself as he turns the photo for you to see before setting it back down, pulling a grin onto his face, “Do you remember when the three of us would all go out to dinner or meet up with my tíos and tías when Lili was a baby? And they would always ask us when we were getting married?”

A gentle laugh comes from you as you think back, knowing how many times you got asked the same question over and over again.

“Yes, I definitely remember that. I also remember you getting so annoyed one day that you just—”

“Lied and said that we got married at the courthouse?”

“Yes! I got such an onslaught of questions after you said that. That news, which wasn’t even news, spread like wildfire throughout your family.”

“Well, at least it got people off our backs, esposa,” he winks, grin lifting to one side to meld into a smirk.

You roll your eyes dramatically, the wide smile peeling your lips apart making Javi’s heart race faster.

“You want some help, amor? Feel like an imbécil not doing anything,” he slaps his hands on his knees as he stands from Lili’s bed, taking the handful of steps that separate you. One knee is bent to bring him down to the ground, huffing out a sigh as he gets fully onto his knees.

“Sure you’re gonna be able to get up from the floor, viejo?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you continue to put rolled clothes into the luggage. Javier rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“I think I can handle getting up from the ground, bromista. Been jumping off of roofs and trekking through fucking jungles for seven years.” He doesn’t wait for your response, grabbing one of the unfolded shirts from next to you and attempting to fold it as neatly as you’ve done with the rest of them.

“Alright, alright. I believe you. How about I roll, you organize what I hand you into the suitcase? Sounds good?” You hold a hand out for the shirt in his hand, a small laugh as he resigns his attempt and passes the fabric over.

“Sí, jefa (Yes, boss),” a soft grin pulls one side of his mouth up, deepening the dimple on his right cheek. You look at him with your own tender smile when you hand him a rolled pair of jeans to put away, reaching your hand up to poke the little crevice in his cheek like you always do — like you always did.

The two of you work quietly for a few minutes, falling into a rhythm. Liliana makes noise from downstairs, cabinets open and closing, sounds of bubble wrap being ripped echoing throughout the house.

“How’re you doin’, Jav?”

The question strikes him, slumping his shoulders and training his gaze on the shirt in his hands as he rubs his index and thumb over the softened cotton.

It’s a simple enough question; he expected you to ask when you first saw him. In a greeting, he thought it would be easy to brush it off, tell you ‘Estoy bien’ or that he was happy to be home.

But right now, packing up his daughter’s clothes to move her out of college and back into your home — the day before his little girl’s graduation — it feels too difficult to lie.

Sitting alone here with you, the mother of his daughter, the beauty that gave him his greatest gift, the woman — the strong, commanding, warm, gentle woman that he is still so incredibly in love with — is drawing the truth out of him before he can fully catch up with what he’s admitting.

“Feeling like a real pendejo. I missed so much. Too much, amor. I’m sorry.”

“Jav. You are here now. You always show up when she needs her Tata. Even if it’s not physically, you show up for her every day. No more of that talk this weekend, do you hear me? You’re here. That’s it. Not missing anything.”

How do you always know what to say to him?

How did he ever walk away from you?

Javier nods his head, pressing his lips into a tight line as his fingers twitch for nicotine. He would kill for that slow drag of smoke filling his lungs, relaxing his racing mind and heart with a break that lasts as long as the burning paper and tobacco.

Instead, he stands on his knees, grabbing the plastic pack out of his pocket and popping out a chiclet of gum, tossing it into his mouth, and chewing furiously. The look on your face is observational, a twitch of your lips into the faintest grin calms him nearly as much as a cigarette would.

He sits back on his haunches, one of his hands reaching to touch you, faltering when your head turns down to fold the item of clothing in your hands.

“Te quiero, esposa,” his hand grazes his fingertips along the denim covering his thighs, twitching to move the hair curtaining your face, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Jav,” your head shakes back and forth subtly, eyes lifting from your lap and softening as you smile at him, “Love you, too.”

“Jesús Cristo, Liliana, you have a lot of shit. I went to college with a suitcase and a duffle bag — and left four years later with just the duffle bag,” Javier shakes his head as he carries the last piece of luggage downstairs to the living room where the rest of her packed belongings are accumulating to pack up in your three cars the day after her graduation.

“God, Jav, you sound like my father. ‘I walked twelve miles to school with rocks in my backpack and in a foot of snow’,” you drop your voice to mock him, laughing with your daughter as she walks in from the kitchen and stands next to you, “Getting to be an old man, Peña.”

“Mamá is right, Tata. You’re the youngest dad out of all my friends and you sound the oldest right now,” Lili says through a wide smile, and you laugh with her now, sending Javier a brightly teasing grin.

He grumbles and rolls his eyes, waving a hand at both of you dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough from you two bromistas. Y’know, I didn’t miss you two ganging up on me — it was one thing through the phone, but in person is just too much.”

Your tongue clicks and you walk over to him, pinching his cheek as you pass by him, “Aw, Jav, it’s all love. You’re just easy to rile up, makes it fun.”

You wink at him with your back to Liliana, slipping out of the room to grab more of her boxes from the kitchen. At your touch and the minuscule flirtation, his heart rate thumps louder in his ears. His eyes follow you out of the room, snapping back when Liliana asks him a question. He shakes himself out of the trance, looking over to his daughter and stepping over to where she’s stood in front of an open box.

“Qué pasa, mija? (What’s up, my daughter?)” Javier reaches an arm up and wraps it around her shoulders, holding her against his side as he presses a kiss to her head. His eyes drop to what’s held in front of her, a chill running down his spine when he sees a photo of Escobar across the front page of the newspaper, the headline reading ‘ESCOBAR KILLED IN MEDELLÍN’.

“Do you want this copy, Tata? I kept two of them, but I think the other one is already packed away and I don’t know if I need both anymore really. Kept one to show my professors all about you,” Lili turns her head and looks up at him.

Javier shakes his head, a tight smile facing his daughter before he drops his arm from her shoulders.

“No, no thanks, mija. No need to keep the other one either. I wasn’t even there for that, amorcita. I think I was actually about to come over to Mamá’s house to see you when I got the call,” he tasks his antsy hands with sealing a cardboard box with packing tape, “May as well toss them out. Or send them to Mr. Murphy if you want them to be kept safe.”

“I don’t want to get rid of the other one. I want to keep it. Even if you weren’t there for it, you still did so much work to get to that point, Tata. I mean, you doing all of that in Colombia is what made me want to do criminal psychology,” she carefully slips the newspaper into one of the open boxes, closing it up and holding her hand out for the tape roll.

“Mi princesa, you—“

“I know, Tata. I promise I am not going to be running on rooftops or caught in the middle of shootouts with the DEA. No fighting cartels, viejo. I just want to work with profiling and behind-the-scenes stuff.” She takes the tape, closing up the box completely as Javier’s heart cinches in his chest.

He is so incredibly proud of his Lili Pad, but he can’t deny how angry he got when Liliana chose her major finally — of course, it had to be criminology. She explained she was drawn to it because of his work, but assured that she is not interested in doing the same thing he has done for years. Behind the scenes, possibly going into forensic psychology or helping to profile criminals. Office jobs, for the most part. But he couldn’t shake that anger inside for months; never been angry with his daughter, and he knew she was as headstrong as him and would achieve what she wanted. He was angry with himself, for even planting any sort of seed, even unknowingly, for Lili to get into this type of work. He knows that eventually her end of the promise might not be kept — he knows her, how easily excitable she can get with new opportunities. She’ll likely end up climbing ranks or even getting into some agency like the FBI or something.

The thought of her out there, in a tac vest or with a weapon, makes bile burn his esophagus.

“Alright, I think we’re done here for today. Better go check into the hotel and we can get ready quick, then we can swing by and pick you up for dinner, Lili.” Your voice pulls him out of his spiral, stare focusing back into the room and glancing over at you in the doorway from the kitchen.

“Sí, jefa. Sounds like a plan,” he pats the pockets of his jeans and feels for his truck keys, “You gonna be ready if we come in an hour, princesa?”

Lili rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and popping her hip out, a stance all too familiar to Javier.

“Sí, Tata. Besides, I’m not the one you should be asking that to. Mom is always the one who takes longer to get ready.”

Javier laughs when you walk over to your daughter, pinching her side playfully. He shakes his head and gives Liliana a knowing look.

“Mija, I have known that fact about your mamá for longer than you’ve been alive. I’m guessing it will be an hour and a half until we’re back, but wanted to make sure you were actually ready. An hour to you women is at least an hour and fifteen to the rest of the world.”

Javier smiles with a loud laugh as both you and Lili approach him and swat his arms, pinching his sides without causing any pain whatsoever. There were protests on either side of him, his daughter and her mother annoyed with the judgments on their time management but all three of them knew he was right.

“Alright, alright, I apologize…” he surrenders from the assault with his hands up, taking deep breaths as he recovers from his laughter before continuing with a smirk, “But we all know I’m right!”

Javier makes a quick exit out of the room and through the front door before any other hits or pinches can be given to him, hearing the stifled laughter from you and Lili from inside the house.

“Yeah, you better run, Jav!” you call out as you gather your purse and fish out your car keys, saying a quick goodbye to Lili and following his path out of the house, “Now I’m gonna be ready in an hour just to prove you wrong.”

“That would only make me overjoyed. Maybe we could make our reservation in time then,” he waves goodbye to Liliana before turning to continue down the front path of her house, to his truck parked in front of your small SUV.

“You wanna follow me over there?” he asks as he unlocks the driver’s side door, watching you open yours and nod to him.

“Yeah, sounds good to me. Don’t be driving like a bat out of hell, though, Javier.”

“Hey, I can’t make any promises. Used to driving all around Colombian cities, it’s a lot different on those roads,” he jokes before making sure you get into your car, hopping into the truck, and listening to the engine turn over before he leads you both over to your accommodations for the rest of the weekend.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Peña. We would normally be absolutely willing to find a solution for you, but we’re fully booked for the graduation weekend. We only have one room for you.” The front desk receptionist looks terrified of Javier at this moment, his glare that he has perfected, normally reserved for serious criminals or dirty agents, is aimed directly at the young college student working here.

When the two of you were trying to check in, they had been informed that the reservation Javier had made for the two of you, two standard rooms, had been double booked, resulting in the parties involved only getting delegated one room each.

His jaw notched to the side, hands gripping the edge of the front counter with his arms wide and head dipping down in annoyance. He picks it up, addressing the hotel employee again.

“I made a reservation months ago. I called from fucking Colombia — I paid about forty dollars wasting twenty minutes on the phone with whoever was working that day just to get this booked—”

“Jav,” your hand finds his chest as his eyes find yours, the rapid heartbeat thumping in his chest definitely not slowing down at what was supposed to be your soothing touch, “It’s fine. We can survive with one room for two nights. It’s either taking this or sleeping on the floor at Lili’s.”

Holding your gaze, he can see the words unsaid in the look you’re giving him.

Shut up and take the room key.

And there’s no way he is continuing to argue with the kid in front of him as he squirms under your own stern stare. With a grumble, he straightens up, your hand leaving his chest and cool, conditioned air chilling the spot that was covered in your warmth. The rest of the check-in process is painless, with Javier paying for the stay and taking the room keys. He turns around to face you, handing you one of the access cards and nodding toward the elevators.

“Let me take that, amor.” He leans down and grabs both duffles from the floor, one his and one yours, following your lead over to the elevators. The two of you stand and wait for the doors to open, the familiar ding alerting them to which one will be taking them up to their floor. When the doors slide apart, a large group of people started to spill out into the lobby. You step back to avoid a collision with a man not watching where he is walking, and Javier’s hand immediately finds your lower back to steady you. It lingers as the rush of people clears out — he makes no move to take it away until he guides you into the small square space, dropping his touch to press the button for your floor.

Once the two of you make it into the room, he sets your bags down on the desk and dresser, walking over to the thermostat to turn it down for you without a second thought.

“You remember,” you observe with a grin, rifling through your bag to find your toiletries and a change of clothes for dinner.

“Course I do, always had to have the air blasting in our apartment or the house. You never could sleep without a massive blanket and your toes under my legs. Never did understand your need to be freezing, always,” he chuckles at the memories of every night with you, until the separation when he was assigned to Bogotá.

“I dunno why either, just was always the most comfortable. Felt cozier, plus it always gave an excuse to cuddle.” Your giggle sends a tingle from his ears down the back of his neck and across his shoulders, a shudder easily blamed on the intense fans of the air-con.

“Go ahead and take the first shower, esposa. I’ll wait so that you can have more time to get ready and all that,” Javier crosses the room, saddling up next to you to rummage through his own weekender bag. In his periphery, he can see you flash a smile as you gather your things in one arm, using the free hand to brush across his shoulder blades when you walk behind him.

“Very kind, Jav. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom and he picks his head up, turning it to look at you. Head to toe, he scans you quickly before settling on your face, shaking his head.

“Take your time, amor. We both know I can be ready in ten minutes if I need to be,” he sends you a wink and half a smirk appears when you laugh, shutting the door behind you.

He hears the water run, kicking off his boots and sitting at the edge of the bed with an extensive sigh. Rubbing his eyes of exhaustion, he’s still for a moment. Shoulders drop, limbs feeling heavy as the day catches up with him. Moving, packing, even fighting with himself has drained him over the course of the day.

He loved spending time with his Liliana again, seeing her eager to walk the stage tomorrow and collect her diploma. And being around you again, drudging up all of the feelings and desires and words that he has tamped down for the last seven years. But it all comes with reminders of how absent he was, thousands of miles away, how undeserving he is of being welcomed back into the arms of you two, how his daughter was so proud, idolized him so much that she chose to study a major that puts her in the same field of work. He deserves distance from her, a cold shoulder from you — aloofness of some sort for the choice he made.

At least that’s what he’s told himself over and over for nearly the last decade. No matter how much you or Lili continually proved those thoughts wrong, they always came back.

He glances at his watch before standing and moving toward the bag again, hearing the water shut off and moving to grab his toiletries. Taking out the leather Dopp kit jostles something else in the bag loose, flinging it out onto the floor. Bending down with a sigh to retrieve it, he’s faced with the metal badge emblazoned with the DEA seal and ‘USA’ carved into it. It must have been in the bag from his plane ride earlier this week, and it serves as a blatant reminder of what he needs to talk to you about on this trip. What he needs to tell Liliana, too.

The badge gets thrown back into the bag and he walks toward the open bathroom door, stopping short within the threshold. You’re standing at the counter, products splayed around you to do your makeup. Even after living with you for 15 years, he barely has a clue what any of it does besides lipstick and mascara. He’d spent many mornings and evenings listening to you explaining your routine, but never quite getting down all the product names. There’s a pang in his chest, felt deep in the bones of his rib cage; the sight gives him major deja vu, nostalgia wavering over him. Even his subconscious longs for a time when you were his.

A humorous smile reflects back at him with your eyes glued to his in the mirror. Your fingers tap a rogue-colored product across your cheeks, giving you a bit of a brighter, subtly flushed look.

“Sorry, Jav, promise I’ll be out of here in like five minutes. I am trying to be quick.”

“Cálmate, amor. No hay prisa.There’s no rush, really…” he clears his throat, setting his toiletry bag down on an open space at the counter. He leans one hip against it, body facing you and studying the motions of painting your face while his mind works up the courage to bring up the pressing conversation.

“I, um, I actually have to tell you something.” His eyes cast down to the side, the grout of the tiles suddenly interested him.

“What is, Jav? You can tell me anything, you know that.” The compact in your hand is forgotten, clicked closed, and set down next to you as you mirror his stance. One hip against the counter, facing him.

“I know. I know. There’s just—It’s kind of a big thing and I wanted to tell you as soon as it all happened but I didn’t know how things would exactly shake out…”

“Javier. Take a breath,” you instruct him, hand against his chest with purposeful pressure, taking a deep inhale along with him and letting it out slowly. You don’t remove your hand, and he’s grateful for the gesture.

“I retired from the DEA two days ago. The morning before I left to come home. So, uh, I’m back at the ranch with Pop and I’ll be here now.” A mess of emotion comes out of his voice — fear, anxiety, relief, disappointment. Painfully, he drags his eyes up to your face, seeing your eyes wide with surprise and your brows relaxing from shooting up at the news. It’s an unreadable, unfamiliar expression; he watches as it all morphs behind your eyes before sympathy washes over every feature of yours, tender tone speaking up in the tiny bathroom.

“What happened?”

Everything was spilling out after that — information that was surely spreading across the US over the last 48 hours, not that he paid any attention to the news right now. Ambassador Crosby told him that he had won, that the Cali Godfathers would be locked up, at least for the foreseeable future. How dirty he felt when Crosby said the words, “You played the system like a goddamn fiddle…” The ledger proving the Colombian president’s campaign donations from the Cali cartel in exchange for immunity, the knowledge that the US government allowed all of it to occur, how he had spoken about it all to the reporter from El Tiempo.

“Javier, Jav, oh—I’m so proud of you.” The air is knocked him his lungs when the sound of those words reaches his ears, the next second being wrapped up in your tight embrace. It takes a moment to register your hug before he relaxes his weight against you, tension melting as you speak to him right next to his ear, “You told the truth. You helped every single Colombian citizen know what their government was doing to them. Just, holy shit, Javi. That’s fucking badass. I’m so, so proud of you, honey.”

Kindness, understanding, and comfort ooze around him and break down the stoicism that he’s been masked with for the last two days, tears welling in his eyes and spilling a few over that he quickly wipes away.

How can you always seem to find endless compassion for him? He’s just told you he quit his job with no real backup plan and all you said was how proud of him you are.

You’re a really good friend.

A great friend, actually.

Fuck, he is so in love with you still it hurts.

“Thank you…I don’t deserve your pride though, I did so many bad things,” his voice is hoarse on the last word, tightening his arms around you to quell his emotion.

“None of that, Jav. You uncovered a whole fucking…political scandal. Told people what their governments were doing. That’s honest; it’s ethical and respectable. You did the right thing, Jav.”

The last few words grow the lump in his throat, a slow nod against the side of your head. His lips brush your ear, confiding as if it is something he hasn’t said many times before, “Te quiero, amor.”

The smile is evident in your voice despite the fact that the hug keeps your face from his sight, and the saccharine sweetness of your voice sends his heart racing again, “Love you too, honey.”

At dinner, once there’d been a few drinks and some food served, Javier told Liliana the news he broke to you in your hotel bathroom. Albeit, it was an abridged version, details of his mistakes and pains of guilt left out for his precious daughter’s sake. She was eager to get out into the world and make a difference, and he had all the faith that she could, unlike him. He didn’t want his story to taint her view of what she was going to be able to achieve with her sheer determination.

He had that at one point. Probably lost it sometime in the last few years, slowly and then all at once when those tapes were found.

Liliana was understanding of her father resigning, chalking it up to his years down there catching up with him and teasing him for being an old man now. He took it gracefully, laughing along with the two of you and riffing on his own, with self-effacing jokes. As the conversation wrapped up, questions from Lili were answered by him — he was home, for good, living with Chucho and helping run the ranch. He would absolutely be around to help her get ready for her first day at work and help her move into her new apartment in San Antonio. And yes, he would be delighted to come over for dinner once or twice a week to spend some time with her, and you. Liliana had formulated the idea herself, earning a nod of approval from you and a warm invitation seconded.

After he accepted, Liliana changed the subject to rant about whoever the university had chosen for the commencement speech and how random of a choice it was. He listened intently, always hanging on every word from his Lili Pad, but he couldn’t help but be distracted by your hand coming to the place on his thigh closest to his knee, resting there for a moment before giving him a supportive squeeze. Nothing was spoken about the gesture, no looks were exchanged when your hand stayed there until the food came.

Sitting in the booth, observing and listening to his girls bounce back and forth in conversation, he finds the first moment of resounding comfort that he’s felt in seven years.

The last conversation he had with Spencer just days ago after the recent trial in D.C. rings in his mind, the two men standing at the displayed photos of Special Agents from the DEA.

He had asked Javier, “What else is a guy like you gonna do?”

At the time, Javier wasn’t too sure.

But now, with two of his favorite smiles beaming, one identical to his own, and the chorus of laughter that soundtracks his life, and his heart racing, the heart that bleeds for his family sitting here with him, he knows what he’s gonna do.

Be a father.

Be a partner.

Be a friend, a son, a lover, a teacher, a student, a listener, a provider, a protector.

Be everything he hasn’t been for nearly a decade.

He is going to be there for you two. No matter what.

The two of you are back in the hotel room, Liliana dropped off safely at her home and promptly reminded of the schedule for tomorrow. Javier threw her a, “Don’t be too hungover,” that you rolled your eyes at, the faintest of smiles on your face, knowing exactly how Javier was at his own graduation. You, unknowingly pregnant with Lili at the time, were feeling sick and extremely nervous to be seeing his parents the next day, so there was no drinking for you that night. The next morning you were rubbing his back as he threw up before dragging him into the shower and then dressing him like a doll.

He remembers the only thing he was thinking that morning was how much he loved you, how much he was going to miss you after moving home to Laredo to become a sheriff while you were finishing school the next year.

Life seemed so simple back then; only had to worry about visiting his girlfriend at the weekends, showing up for work on time, and taking care of his parents.

A few weeks later, you told him you were pregnant.

God, how fast was time moving? He feels like that was merely last year.

“Bathroom’s all yours, Jav.”

He looks up from his duffel to see you walking out in your pajamas, a smirk crossing his face at the faded Texas A&M shirt he recognized from his own closet from years before. With a nod to you, he unbuttons his shirt halfway before talking to you over his shoulder.

“I can take the floor, amor. You take the bed.”

A loud laugh from behind turns him around, and you look at him like he’s got about four heads.

“Javier Luis, you’re not going to be able to get up in the morning if you sleep on the floor, viejo. If it’s weird for you to sleep in the bed with me, I’ll be the one to take the floor.”

“No, you’re not. And it’s not weird for me, I just didn’t know if you would be comfortable with it.”

“Don’t know if you forgot, but we have slept in the same bed together before, Jav. It’s kind of how we have a daughter, you dork,” you snort and climb onto the plush mattress, slipping under the duvet and leaning up against the pillows.

“Hey, I was trying to be a gentleman, no need for the name-calling.”

“You are always a gentleman, hon, no need to try. Plus I have to call you names, who else will keep you humble?”

“Our daughter. That’s who. I think she’s worse than you with the jokes,” he laughs.

Your smile widens, laughing along with him and shrugging, “I wonder where she gets that from.”

A wink is sent his way, stirring his stomach before he clears his throat and nods to the bathroom, “Gonna get ready for bed, you all done in there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go for it,” you wave toward the bathroom, grabbing your book from the nightstand.

Javier makes quick work of brushing his teeth and the rest of his night routine, avoiding his tired reflection before shutting the lights out and going back into the bedroom. Book still in your hand, he stands in his jeans again, rubbing the back of his neck. Without looking up you pat the spot next to you.

“I know you sleep in your boxers, just get in the damn bed.”

Ever since you became a mom, your power of reading his mind has gotten way too good.

Well, maybe it isn’t perfect cause if you could read his mind, you probably wouldn’t have suggested sharing a bed again with the amount of time he spends thinking about you.

“Sometimes it makes me mad how often you know what I’m going to say,” he grumbles and shucks off his jeans leaving them at the side of the bed and climbing under the covers. He stays comfortably at the side of the bed, sighing deeply as he closes his eyes.

“Comes with experience.”

“Why can’t I do it for you then?” He opens his eyes and turns onto his side to look at you, “I’ve known you just as long as you’ve known me.”

The book in your hands is closed, and laid in your lap, looking down at Javier and shrugging, “You have your own way of it. I might know what you’re going to say, but you always anticipate everyone’s needs and you’re always one step ahead of me. I mean, you always see like four steps ahead. You saved Lili many broken bones at the playground growing up and you always used to be able to cheer me up and fix whatever was making me sad or angry before I really even knew what it was myself.”

A grin slowly pulls the corners of your lips apart, one of your hands reaching over to tap the top of his head.

“Well, I quickly learned the signs of your hangriness. That was most often the reason you were upset,” he chuckles, one side of his mouth ticking up as he relaxes further into the bed.

Comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you read your book for a few more minutes, Javier lying next to you and trying, half-assed, to fall asleep. He really was just sneaking glances at you every time he adjusted positions, admiring the concentrated look on your face, engrossed in the story.

At one point, the book was shut for the night and set on the nightstand, the lamp clicked off and you relaxed back into bed. You turned on your side to face him, voice whisper quiet, “You asleep, Jav?”

He hums lowly, vibrations absorbed by the mattress before his eyes peel open and adjust to the darkness.

“Not yet. Qué pasa, amor?”

“Did you quit smoking?”

“Uh, I guess so, yeah. Why are you asking that now?”

“Just curious. I didn’t see you dip outside to smoke at all today and you got a non-smoking room, too. Very un-Javier.”

“Oh, is that all I am to you, esposa? A smoker?” He has a lilt of teasing in his voice, raising his eyebrows as you laugh faintly.

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” There’s a gentle shove to his shoulder before your hands are back by you, tucked under your chin as you curl up again.

“I was going to congratulate you on quitting, but now I’m not sure if I want to, meanie.”

“You’re the one randomly questioning me about my habits! Meanie.”

“I am not a meanie, I had no bad intentions!”

“Sure, and what would you have said if I told you I didn’t quit?”

Javier gives you a satisfied smirk when you’re silent, shaking his head to himself.

“Knew it,” he rolls onto his back, hand resting on his stomach and turning his head to the side, “I quit ‘cause Lili called me before I came home and asked me to. She’s asked for a while, but I kept putting it off with the stress of work and everything. Thought now’s the time after I resigned.”

In the darkness, he suddenly feels your hand on his bicep closest to you, rubbing up and down slowly.

“You’re a good dad, Jav. The best. Glad you’re the one I got to have a kid with.”

If he says anything now, it will come out incoherent from the lump sitting in his throat. Instead, he hums in response, nothing else spoken until you’ve fallen asleep.

“I’m glad it was me, too.”

It is hot as fuck.

He’s trying so hard not to sweat his ass off while in the cattle of people funneling into the arena at this moment, attempting to keep his light beige button-up dry. He was going to wear his normal uniform of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt when he heard the weather report on the TV this morning, but your face when you saw him pull out navy slacks and his long-sleeved shirt that he packed, was too excitable and adorable to not wear anything else — “We’ll be matching! Our pictures will be so cute with Lili in her white dress.” Standing in your floral, mid-length navy dress, who was he to deny you those coordinated photos?

Things had been much more…familiar since last night and this morning. It was the back and forth that was effortless, the fall into a perfectly choreographed routine — him anticipating your moves and you knowing what he was thinking before he could even ask a question. The close quarters of the shared room suddenly felt much too large to Javier; he was desperate for too small of space so he could stay close to you, but with 15 years of experience living together, and even longer dating, you moved too in sync with each other to collide.

He was close to you this morning, though, waking up at the sound of the alarm clock next to his side of the bed; his arm moved to shut it off, coasting along your hip and thigh before reaching behind him to stop the noise. A grumble from you pulled him back, positioning himself again on his side and adjusting the arm that ended up underneath your head, his chest enveloping your back when his other arm slung around your waist. If he closed his eyes, he could swear it was any other morning from before Colombia, stretching all the way back to his bed in his shitty college apartment that you tolerated spending nights in.

There isn’t a thing in this world he wouldn’t give to be able to have this wake up every day from now on.

He knows he needs to talk to you, to tell you all that he is feeling, but he can’t bring himself to do it now. Not before his daughter’s college graduation when the two of you are getting along like old friends. The peace shouldn’t be disrupted by you potentially rejecting him.

Which has brought him standing behind you in the crowd of parents and families, a hand on your lower back to keep a tab on you as everyone filters in through the doors. He keeps his eyes scanning out of habit, searching for a danger that surely isn’t there, while you chat away with Chucho walking directly next to you.

His attention is elsewhere, anxiety creeping into his bones at the masses gathering here, impossible to keep tabs on everyone. The three most important people to him are in this building, and he has no means to protect them if something happened—

No. Enough. This isn’t Colombia. There are no sicarios here.

It’s supposed to be an enjoyable day.

The thoughts circle in his mind as a mantra while the three of you find seats, Javier tailing with you in the middle of him and his father. You sit at the end of one row, holding the same order when you finally take your seats.

Smoothing your skirt, Javier watches as you turn to Chucho, giving him an update about something that was recently repaired in the house.

“Wait, you had to get a new water heater? Why didn’t you tell me you needed one?” he interjects with an edge, brow furrowing as he grills you.

“Jav, it was fine, Pops helped me call around for quotes and we found a good deal. It was solved in like two days. It didn’t seem like it was something I needed to make a long-distance phone call for,” you sigh defeatedly, leaning back and looking down at your nails, fidgeting with your fingers at his harshness.

Javier rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath, “I should have known. Could’ve helped with it…Eres tan terca. Nunca pides ayuda, incluso si la necesitas. Terca. (You are so stubborn. You never ask for help, even if you need it. Stubborn.)”

Chucho stretches an arm behind your back, hitting his shoulders to sit up and addressing him with a stern tone.

“Mijo, no te pongas tan quisquilloso. Ella no quería preocuparte todo el camino allí abajo. Disculpas. (Son, don't be so oversensitive. She didn't want to worry you all the way down there. Apologize.)”

His jaw ticks to the side, sitting up straight, and shaking his head. With a sigh, he turns to you, leaning closer to speak without his father overhearing.

“I’m sorry, amor. I didn’t mean to be rude; I get frustrated not being around to help you with stuff like that. Shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that. ‘M glad Pop was there to help if I couldn’t.”

Your hand rests on his thigh, patting lovingly as you respond at the same level as him, “Next time, I’ll call you first, Jav. And then you can be the one to call Chucho for actual help.”

A smirk grows at your jest, and he falls back into his seat with a scoff.

“God, you are ruthless. Always with the jokes, esposa. Don’t know if I should be sticking around if it’ll be like this,” he chuckles, stretching an arm behind you and resting it on the back of your chair.

“Yeah, yeah. We both know you’re gonna be around a lot more now.” His head snaps to the side to see you looking ahead with the faintest of smiles, biting back a much wider one as you lean back into his arm.

After a processional to Pomp and Circumstance, all three of you waving madly to Liliana when she spotted you in the crowd, the ceremony proceeds with little fanfare. Speeches are made, congratulations extended to all of the students from various faculty members and the special guest speaker. When it finally came time for conferring of degrees, Javier awaits the long line of A though O names. The three of you stand, watching the handful of students ahead of Lili cross the stage.

The dean of her college stands at the microphone, saying with a rehearsed smile, “Liliana Raquel Peña, Summa Cum Laude.”

At the announcement of her name and honors, the three of you erupt in cheers for the young woman crossing the stage. Javier whistles with his fingers, holding out the sound as long as he can before clapping his hands together wildly. Once Lili is descending the stairs and back to her seat, you all wave to her again as she beams up at you and shows off her diploma folder.

The moment he’s seated again, he turns his head to the side, seeing your faint tears streaking your face. On instinct, he reaches for your hand before he can second guess it and laces your fingers together with a gentle squeeze. A pitiful laugh slips out from you when you look back at him, a blubbering smile parting your lips.

Javier leans closer to you, centimeters from your ear to confide, “I think you did an amazing job raising our girl, amor. Thank you.”

In the back room of a local restaurant, the Peña extended family mills about, filling the room with sound from the music over the speakers and everyone chatting and catching up with each other — especially congratulating the guest of honor.

Aunts and uncles and cousins that were available have all flocked together to celebrate Liliana, and despite the overwhelming urge to Irish exit this party because of the constant comments and questions about Colombia, Javier is staying until you’re ready to leave. Which undoubtedly will be until the end of your reservation.

He sits at one of the tables pushed to the side of the room, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms and crossing his limbs over his chest as he reclines in the wooden chair. Buttons of his shirt have been undone post-photos with the grad, the air conditioning cooling his sun-baked skin. His fingers can still feel the phantom of your linen dress, his hand affixed to your lower back in all of the photos taken.

Easily, with a quick scan of the room, he finds you talking to his mamá’s sister, Tia Rose. You’re smiling brightly, the crinkles at your eyes showing off your joy as his aunt surely is congratulating you or complimenting you on how you raised your daughter.

He really meant what he said at the ceremony. There is no way he could have done what you managed if you were the one to have left for work. You were a fucking hero to him, not himself. He’s been hearing it over and over every time he returns home — “You’re a hero, Javier.”

It’s complete bullshit.

His results were rigged, the system played him as much as he supposedly played it.

When he thinks about being a hero, he doesn’t think about anything close to what he’s done. He thinks about sacrifice, compassion, strength — you have it all. You’ve saved him from himself time and time again, and you’ve done it all while being a working mom and dealing with your partner, your co-parent, being thousands of miles away for years.

“Ay, mijo, estás tu cabeza en las nubes otra vez? (Son, is your head in the clouds again?)” Javier looks up to his right at the sound of his father’s voice, standing to offer him help into the chair next to him but waved off with a grumble from Chucho.

“Is it that easy to tell, Pop?” he asks, a half-hearted smile on his face as he retakes his seat.

“Eh, to me, yes. Probably to your girls, too, but I think anyone else would think you’re doing your sulky, pendejo act.”

“Pendejo act? Don’t think it’s an act at this point, Pop. Been feeling like one more and more.”

“Sí, y por qué es eso? (Yeah, and why is that?)”

“Estoy ausente (I’m absent.)”

“Dios, Javier…” his father sighs and shakes his head, turning his head to look at his son, “You are not absent. Quit telling yourself that, or you really are going to be. You’re home now, so be home.”

“It is a blessing to have Liliana at home for this summer, spend as much time as you can with her…And you know how I feel about mi nuera (my daughter-in-law).”

Javier sighs, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees and find you in the crowd again. As if you can sense his eyes on you, you turn toward him and give him a tender smile that quells his near constant nervous energy.

God, it’s unfair how beautiful you are.

And how kind, and forgiving, too.

This conversation is making him want a cigarette. Really bad.

Instead, he pulls the plastic packet out of his pocket, popping out another chiclet of gum and tossing it in his mouth.

He prepares for a lecture from his father; Chucho seems to know a lot more about you these days than Javier. Every week since he left for Colombia, you’ve gone over to Chucho’s house for dinner at least once. With Liliana away at school, you still went. It filled Javier’s heart with a syrupy, oozing warmth whenever he thought about the relationship you have with his father. How you 're always going to be family, a daughter to him, after your parents cut you off those twenty-something years ago.

“She’s still coming over every week, y’know. Didn’t seem to be doing too great until about two weeks ago. Came over after she received a phone call. Was all excited and basically bouncing off the walls. I asked her why, and she said she got some exciting news. You know what it was?”

“Qué?”

“You coming home. I think you called to confirm your flights with her, and she was just so excited, mijo. Cooked your favorite for dinner that night—“

“Pollo asado?”

“Sí, con mole.”

“Mierda, estoy celoso. (Shit, I’m jealous.)”

Chucho laughs from his belly, shaking a bit in the seat as he reaches up and adjusts his cowboy hat.

“It was delicious, as always,” Javier hums in acknowledgement before his father continues, “But I’m not telling you all of that just to tell you what I had for dinner. I’m telling you cause I need you to get your head out of your ass and talk to her. Anyone with eyes can see how in love with her you still are. I wanted you to know that there’s something there for her, too. Hazla mi nuera de verdad. (Make her my daughter-in-law for real.)”

“I’ll talk to her, Pop. Don’t need a wingman, so please don’t say anything to her. Please.”

Chucho stands and shrugs, nonchalantly closing with, “If you don’t do it soon, I’m taking matters into my own hands and telling her myself how lovesick you are. I will not make any promise I cannot keep, so you better keep that one if you don’t want me involved, mijo.”

Javier stays put as his father filters into the party-goers, shaking his head as he smiles to himself.

Maybe he does still have a chance.

The end of the night was fairly uneventful, everyone saying their goodbyes and final congratulations to Liliana. You insisted on helping to set the room up as you had all found it, correcting the tables and chairs back to their usual positions. When you were about to start taking dishes back to the kitchen, Lili rolled her eyes and walked out to the front of the restaurant while Javi grabbed you by your hips from behind and physically directed you out of the room.

“Jav, I feel bad, we made a mess! Let me help!”

“Esposa, you are wonderful and so sweet, I’m sure they appreciate your help. But this is a restaurant, cariño, and you don’t get paid to work here so I don’t think they’re gonna want to be liable for you,” he slides his hands up and down a few inches of your sides, dragging the fabric of your dress up and letting it fall back when he takes his hands off of your sides, placing one on your back.

Javier helps you into the cab of his truck, you taking the middle of the bench and Lili following into the passenger side to be able to get out easier. He drives over to Lili’s house, dropping her off with both of you giving massive hugs and final congrats for the day.

It was a quiet car ride to the hotel, but you ended up back in the middle seat closest to Javier, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Walking into the building, he bit the inside of his cheek as he brushed your hand with his, no recoil from his touch giving him the confidence to take your hand completely in his. Fingers intertwined as you both got in the elevator, tender, unspoken words in your eyes.

Now, Javier sits at the edge of the bed, a short plastic cup in his hand filled with half a mini bottle of champagne. There’s a matching cup in your hand, standing in front of him as he looks up at you with worshiping eyes.

“Cheers, Jav. Good on us for getting our kid through college,” you say with a smile, the sound of plastic crinkling in your hands following your little toast. Each of you takes a sip of the drink, Javier leaning around you to set his down on the desk. His hands move to hover at your waist, your permission granted with a small step to stand between his opened legs.

Javier’s calloused palms catch on your dress again, inching the fabric up as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. He looks up at you while you return the stare down at him, your free hand finding the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Thank you, amor. For taking on so much more responsibility and shouldering the weight of raising Lili Pad in her teens, and getting her into a great school, and supporting her throughout these last four years when I couldn’t—

“Jav, it was both of us.”

“No, please let me give you the credit you deserve, esposa. You did it all without ever being angry with me, and you always supported me, too. And every time I’ve come back for a visit, you make it seem like I never left with how welcome you make me feel.”

“You’re always a part of our family, Jav. Always.”

He nods, feeling his chest tighten at your words, gripping you tighter as if you’re going to slip away, as if he’ll wake up and this whole trip will have been a dream, as if he will be stuck in Colombia, or forced to go back to the DEA and work in Mexico.

“Thank you, really, thank you for always making me feel a part of it all from so far away. All the photos, all the letters, the birthday cards, and care packages…You are a great mother, and an even better woman. So much better as a person than I ever could be, and I am so lucky that you chose me to have a kid with. Lili is incredible because she’s part of you. Thank you, amor, you have given me a life I don’t think I deserve.”

His head drops, tugging you closer to rest his forehead against your stomach. Silence blankets the room, your fingers running through his hair soothingly. After a moment, you take his chin between your index and thumb, turning his head up to look at you again.

Javier wants so badly to be able to read your mind right in that second, the look in your eyes puzzling him. As he opens his mouth to say something, anything, to fill the air, you’re folding forward and catching his lips in a kiss. It’s light, too faint for his needs, and you’re pulling away much too quickly. His spine elongates, chasing your mouth before you can get too far and locking you in a breathless exchange.

His hands paw at your sides, a desperate attempt being made to pull you as close as possible while also running his hands along your curves. In the surprise of it all, getting lost in his lips, you drop the cup in your hand. Champagne splashes onto your feet, ignored as Javier lifts your mid-length dress to your hips, climbing back on the bed and pulling you over him without breaking your kiss.

Your knees cage his thighs in, settling on his lap as he slots his lips around your bottom one, tracing along it with his tongue. Parting with a gasp, your mouth opens to let him in, melding your tongues together. A whimper escapes from you when he tugs you further onto his lap, feeling his bulge in his slacks press against your core.

Javier pulls away from your lips, dragging his nose along your cheek and leaving a trail of wet, open mouth kisses along your jaw. At the spot on your neck close to your ear, he sucks a mark, smirking against your skin when your back arches and squeezes your chest against his.

“Fuck, Jav…” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair.

He hums against your skin, pulling away and kissing under your chin.

“You’re so beautiful, amor. I missed you so fucking much. Thought about you all the time.”

“Yeah? What did you think about?” Your voice is shaky when Javi drops his hands to your hips, starting to drag them back and forth against his cock straining against his zipper.

“Mm, thought about how good you smell all the time, how sweet you taste…how much I miss having you in my bed every night. Being able to have you when I need you,” a groan slips from his mouth at your moan, moving your hips faster the more he talks, “I thought about how fucking stupid I was to leave someone like you behind. Mi vida, la luz de mi vida (My life, the light of my life)…felt like I left half of my soul when I went away.”

From above, you lean down to catch him in a passionate kiss, breathy exhales and muffled moans exchanged while your fingers work as the buttons on his shirt. Javier leans forward, shrugging off the materials before his arms are around you again, snaking around your back to grip your ass.

“Jav, I missed you so much. Never felt the same, there was always something missing…I always needed you. I always need you.”

“Mi amor, lo siento (My love, I’m sorry). I’m here now. Never leaving again.” His hands roam to your sides, finding the zipper of your dress on his left and pulling it down. He bunches the skirt of it in his hands and slowly takes it off over your head; he’s faced with you sitting in his lap, no bra and only panties on.

As if magnetic, his hands fly right back to your sides, skimming up until his thumbs lay under your breasts, fingers splayed along your rib cage.

“You’re so beautiful, mi amor, so fucking beautiful. Can I make you feel good, baby?”

“Please, Jav, need you so bad.”

“Oh, baby, mi esposa, I’ve got you. Get on your back, cariño.”

Javier watches as you move off of him and fall back onto the bed, the plush duvet sinking underneath you and pillowing out at your sides.

An angel in the clouds.

No more time is wasted as he tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor and booting your legs over his shoulder to open you up.

“Wait, Jav, here.” You twist to the side and stretch to reach for one of the pillows, giving it to him with a thoughtful smile.

“For your knees, viejo. Not a twenty year old athlete anymore, hon.”

Javier rolls his eyes and moves to kneel on the pillow, already feeling better in his joints from the cushion. He wraps his arms around your thighs and nips close to your panties, rolling out a groan.

“Sometimes, I hate when you’re right.”

“That’s ‘cause you always have to be right, Peña. It’s always been th—“ you trail off into a moan when his fingers prod through your wetness, one hand hooking your underwear to the side.

“I don’t always have to be right, esposa. You know you’re the boss out of the two of us,” he winks before he tugs your panties off of your legs, settling back between your legs.

You nod, sitting up and leaning your weight on one arm to look down at him.

“Mhm, glad y’know your place still, Jav,” you tease as your other hand pushes his hair away from his forehead, a smirk mirrored onto his face, “Make me come, mi esposo.”

You can see his eyes darken, breaths shallowing. Feather light kisses scatter across your inner thighs until he reaches your core, pursing his lips and blowing cool air against your wetness.

“Fuck, cariño, guess you did really miss me. So fucking wet. All for me?”

“Javi,” you whine, scooting your hips closer to him, “Please, need you.”

“I know, baby, I know. I can see how much you need me.” He licks one long stripe from your tightest hole to your clit, groaning at the taste of you. “You want me to play with your sweet pussy, mi amor? Make you feel so good?”

“Please, please, Jav.”

He soothes you with circles on your lower stomach, nodding as he lays his head on your thigh, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.”

Before you can beg out a response, his lips are attached to your clit, sucking hard before laying his tongue flat against it, moving slow circles around.

His muscle memory guides him to fall into the pattern that he memorized to get you off with his mouth and fingers, pushing one of his thick fingers inside of your cunt knuckle deep and stroking against that same spot he knows drives you wild.

Your back arches off the bed, pressing your clit into his tongue harder. He slurps up your wetness, sighing at your familiar taste that he missed so much. Another finger is added, the rhythm of their thrusts building up faster and faster. Right at the edge, your fingers tangled in his hair tugging hard, he switches positions, tongue plunging inside of you and fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Before you can even register, you're coming around his mouth, flooding his tongue and his lips.

“Javi, oh my god, fuck me…”

He leads you through the orgasm, pulling away with a boyish smirk.

“That’s kind of the plan, hermosa. Gonna fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, beckoning him to stand up. Sitting up fully, you strip him of his slacks and boxers, briefly taking him in your mouth before he’s pulling you off of him and pushing you further up the bed. Climbing over you, a heady kiss is shared as he settles between your legs. In the moment, you easily get him onto his back, moving to straddle him as he looks up at you breathless. Large hands hold tightly to your thighs, jaw dropping as you grab his hard cock and easily slip him inside of you, sinking down until he’s full hilt.

“Fucking Christ, amor. Take my cock so well, show me what you can do.”

Your hips find a slow, aching rhythm that makes you both breathless. As you continue to grind yourself around him, you lean forward and press yourself against his torso, skin sticking to skin.

“Jav—Javier, you are such a good man. I never doubted how much you loved me. How much you do love me,” you breathe out, hips faltering for a moment before you recover.

“You were always there for us, and I’m so proud of you for going after what you wanted. Making the world a better place…” you move your hips slowly as you ride him, leaning down to press your foreheads together, stuttering but managing to get the words out for him, “You are a great man and an even better father. I couldn’t have chosen a better partner. I love you.”

Javier whimpers and stutters out a moan when you move your hips faster, your hand on his chin keeping his forehead against you. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them, facing you and him whispering back, “Te amo, te amo, te amo. I love you so much, mi esposa. Mi amor. Te amo siempre.”

The sound that leaves you at that moment, hearing his proclamations of love, flips a switch inside of him. The primal need to make you his again, completely. His arm around your hips grips you tighter, feet planted on the mattress behind you. He uses the leverage to meet your rhythm with his own thrusts, sweet sounds slipping from your lips egging him on.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and he looks up at you in awe as you arch your back, head falling to the side as your face scrunches up in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck yes, yeah. Right there, ohmygod, papí…”

“Fuck, that’s right, baby,” he says in a drawn out exhale, hammering his hips up into you, “Say it again, mi amor. Say it again.”

“Papí—Feels so good, papí.”

“Yeah? Haven’t heard that one in a while, baby. Love it coming from you, say it again. Please, baby. Por favor.”

“Papí, papí, papí…Harder, please, want it harder.”

“Anything for you, mi amor. I’ll give you anything you want. Fuck this pussy however you want it, whenever you want me.”

One of your hands drops from his shoulder to the mattress, bracing yourself from his unrelenting pace. You’re a whining mess, opening your eyes and looking down at him under you, sweaty and glistening with his wild hair and mustache shiny from your come. Javier rumbles a loud moan of your name, on the verge of a growl when he feels you clench around his cock.

“Come for me, mi esposa. Let me feel you…” he pulls you flush against him as he fucks up into you, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “Te amo, mi esposa, te amo. I love you. Love you so much.”

“Pa—Papí, fuck! Oh my god, Javi!” Your head rolls back as you come around him, bounces faltering as you slip against his chest like jelly.

“Fuck, baby, gonna fill you up. You want me inside you all night, mi amor? Want me to make you full of me again?” His lips brush against your ear, whimper and nod in response.

“Yes, yes please, papí. Want you inside.”

“Fuck yes, mi amor. One more time for me, say it one more time.”

“Come inside me…please come for me, papí.”

A moan stutters in his throat as he buries himself fully in you, twitching with each rope he spends. Grip tightening around you, he stays inside of you as he kisses you deeply, pulling away to brush your hair away from your face.

“You have no idea how long I have been wanting to do that again, mi esposa. Te amo, hermosa. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jav. Missed you,” your head lays on his chest, sigh warming his sweaty skin, “Will you be around when we’re home or—“

“Mi amor, you’re gonna have a hard time keeping me away from you and Lili now. I wanna spend every moment I can with you both. My girls.”

It’s a Sunday evening at the Peña ranch, a few weeks after Lili’s graduation. You and her have come over to Chucho’s house for dinner, Javier already there from working the day with his father. He’s mostly over at yours in the evenings, coming over to spend time with Lili, and you, staying for dinner, having movie nights, grilling out. He’s been basking in the slow life, the life of a father that he’s been so desperately craving. It’s been an itch like he has for a cigarette, finally taking an inhale and his nerves melting away as he adjusted to a balance with you two.

Tonight, however, Chucho insisted that you and he keep your weekly get-togethers, despite Javi being home for good now, and the four of you have had dinner around the cozy dining table off of the kitchen. Javier is gathering the dinner plates, Liliana standing to help him clean up.

“Anyone want any dessert? What d’ya have here, Pop?” he looks between his father and you, awaiting an answer.

Before Chucho can say anything, you sit up with a quiet gasp, “Oh, do you have any mangoes, Chuch? I really would love some mango with Tajín. Or some strawberries with honey. Or both.”

You grin up at Javier and he laughs, nodding his head.

“I’ll see what I can do, amor.”

“Y’know, mija, my Lucia always had mangoes around the house when she was pregnant with Javi. She would slice them up and put so much Chamoy and Tajín, you could barely see that it was a mango underneath it all.”

“That honestly sounds perfect right now, I bet Lucia made some kickass mangonadas, too,” you laugh softly, looking up behind you as Javi squeezes your shoulder lovingly.

“Oh, she definitely did. Whole family begged her to make them every time we all got together,” Chucho belly laughs fondly at the memories, nodding to himself, “We thought for the longest time that we were going to have a girl. All Lucia craved were sweets or fruits, and there’s some old wives tale, una fábula, that if your cravings are sweet, it is a girl, and if they’re savory, it’s a boy.”

“Huh, how funny. Guess thinking back, I did crave a lot of chocolate ice cream with Lili.”

“Oh god, I remember being kicked in the middle of the night and having to go to the town over cause they had a 24-hour gas station just to get you some Ben & Jerry’s,” Javier laughs, kissing the top of your head as you shrug.

“And now look, you’ve got the sweetest daughter to ever exist. All thanks to me,” you grin, sending Javi a wink as he finishes gathering the dishes from the table.

He sees his father smiling to himself as Chucho leans back in his chair, Javier retreating to the kitchen to find something for dessert for you while Lili washes up and the two of you at the table strike up some conversation.

Later that week, you gave Javi a call and asked him to come over after he was done on the ranch. He agreed immediately, of course, and couldn’t fight the buzzing excitement he felt to see you again. It took him back to those days before Lili, before the two of you were ever really anything, you calling and asking him over to your dorm room or your apartment. He felt like a giddy teenager again.

He showered quickly and changed before heading over to yours, parking in the driveway of your small three bed house he had bought for you all. At the door, he knocked before using his key to get inside, calling out to you.

“Amor? Lili Pad? Anybody home?”

The pad of footsteps on the tile floors catch his attention, a smile stretching across his face as you come around the corner into the entryway. He kicks off his boots before meeting you in the middle, arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly to his chest. He sighs an exhale, relaxing around your warmth.

“Long day, Jav?”

“You have no idea, mi amor. Had to chase a fucking bull that got loose in the pastures when we were trying to corral all of ‘em. My ass is hurting from having to ride the horse so much.”

You laugh into his chest, pressing a kiss to his shirt before leaning back to look at his face, “Oh your poor butt. You wanna sit on the couch then?”

He hums in confirmation, kissing the top of your head before you lead him into the living room and let him flop down on the sofa.

“Where’s Lili Pad?”

“Oh, um, she’s out with friends tonight. Thought it could be just us…” You join him, sitting with a couple of feet between you two. He can see how tense you are, sitting up straight, fiddling with your fingers, placing a pillow in your lap. Extending an arm out, he holds his hand palm up for you to take.

“I’m more than okay with just us, cariño. What’s going on with you? You seem anxious. Everything at work okay? Everything okay with Lili?” He rubs his thumb across your knuckles after you take his hand, brows knitting with concern.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is great with Lili. And work is, well, work. No complaints…” your eyes stay trained on your hands together, swallowing before you speak up again, “I actually think it would be easier to show you.”

He feels even more concerned and confused as you stand up, disappearing out of the room for a moment before coming back with a hand behind your back. You don’t sit again, opting to stand in front of him; you bring your hand forward, passing the object to him.

It takes him a minute to register what it is, the last time he saw one this up close being about twenty something years ago.

A pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

Positive.

“Think we could do as good a second time around?”

You’re pregnant.

He’s going to be a dad again?

He’s going to be a dad again, with you?

He’s going to be a dad again. He gets to have another child with you.

His heart is beating out of his chest, mouth dropped open with no words coming out.

A shake of his head knocks him out of the shock, setting the test to the side and looking up at you with welling eyes.

“I get to be a papá again? With you, mi amor?”

A beaming smile widens on your face, your hands finding the sides of his head as you nod down at him.

“Yeah, honey, you’re going to be a dad, again. Lili’s gonna have a little brother or sister. Much, much younger,” you say with a chuckle.

Javier laughs a little breathless, eyes flickering between your face and your stomach that is eye level with him.

“Oh my god, oh my god, mi amor—Te amo, te amo siempre,” His hand finds her tummy, roaming around in circles, attempting to feel the familiar bump or any side of his baby growing inside there. Soft kisses litter your torso as he pulls you closer, resting his forehead against your ribs.

“I love you too, Jav,” you push back his hair and he stares up at you in wonder, pulling you gently to sit in his lap, “Do you…I mean, I want you to come home. Maybe we can actually get married this time. Have the family life with Lili and the little baby. I know we used to just joke about our fake city hall marriage, but I’ve always wanted that with you, Jav.”

A soft, tender kiss is shared, the two of you holding onto each other. One of Javier’s hands rests on your stomach, his heart already completely overflowing with love for the person growing inside of you. It’s quiet for a moment, both of you sitting with each other in silence. With another kiss, Javi hugs you, your head resting on his shoulder as he whispers in your ear.

“Graciás, mi amor. Thank you — for never giving up on our family. On me. Thank you for giving me everything I could have ever dreamed of. I can’t wait to have another baby with you, they’re gonna be as perfect as you, and Lili. My girls. Te amo, mi esposa, te amo siempre.”

javi's photo board in colombia <3

tagging mutuals that might be interested??

@northernbluess @swiftispunk @johnwatsn @cannolighost @joelsversion @cupofjoel @darkroastjoel @atinylittlepain @beskarandblasters @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @bearsbeetsbeskar @smokeinherperfume @thetriumphantpanda @atticrissfinch @perotovar @mrsquill @javiscigarette @yazsos @deathwife @pr0ximamidnight @undrthelights @lunapascal @ladamedusoif @haylzcyon

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ssparksflyy · 1 month

Note

Hiii I hope you are having a great day!! I was wondering if you could make another percy jackson x daughter of Hecate reader? If you don’t/ can’t do it that’s fine I just though i would ask.

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: percy jackson x latina!daughter of hecate!reader warning(s): swearin a/n: dw i got ur 2nd request that u wanted reader to be latina :)) i just added in some little things that tie in ♡♡ srry if these are short btw </3

in the dead of night, your eyes so greennnnnnnn

you and percy tend to stay up later than most of camp

your always up and out after curfew

u js function better at night

me asf

the day is reserved for lake dates nd the night is reserved for sky watching dates ♡♡

ur literally attached by the hip if you couldnt tell

as they say in waitress, i love you means your never ever getting rid of me ♡

u usually watch from the roof of cabin 3, just cuddled up nd sharing a blanket

but once percy suggested you watch from the docks

and you were like oh!

not actually but you looked really hesitant

he was like whats wrong??

so you told him about la llorona 😊😍👯‍♀️💕😁😘🥰🤩🤗😚😋😆

it was so preppy

but now youre both scared to go to the lake at night

even tho yk shes not real

and youve literally been through tartarus

and back

and you face unimaginable horrors every dam day

and percy's literally the son of the sea god

mexican folklore is scary ok yall

idc if it didnt scare you as a kid / you like horror

I DONT

IM TRAUMATIZED

MY GRANDMA PUT ON LA LEYENDA DE LA LLORONA WHEN I WAS FIVE AND I HAVENT KNOWN A DAY OF PEACE SINCE

srry 4 trauma dumping yall

kinda silly how some story about a lady who drowned her kids is enough to make 2 of camp half blood's strongest soliders shake in their boots

so u stick to rooftops ♡

u nd hazel are bestiessss

shes a honorary member of cabin 20 ofc

you exchange tips nd tricks, hazel telling you about the things she saw hecate do and the things she said to her

nd u tell her abt the things youve picked up over the years :))

percy cant help but smile whenever he sees you two together

he sees hazel as a sister

( yall remember in son when he was ready to fight somebody for her or somethin like that idk i dont remember but i do know he was ready to f i g h t )

nd ur his fav girl ever ♡

idk his heart just feels warmed

same way he feels when he sees you playing with estelle

you show her a bit of ur powers nd she flips outtttt

she asks sally to be a witch for halloween bcs "i want to be just like (y/n)!!!"

idk abt yall but if i went home and my family found out i was involved with ~brujeria~ i would not b accepted at home (please read as if ur white nd cant say shit in spanish)

thats just the mad religious side talking dw yall

but sally nd paul would literally let you in with open arms

the jackson's apartment is your second home

percy has a drawer reserved for your clothes in his room ♡♡

he loves it when you sleepover, at home or at camp

he absolutely adores kissing your hands

he doesnt care about the dangers you can produce from them, he'll kiss em allllll he wants

you could be cuddled up together, ur reading to him and he just grabs one of your hands and begins to leave a trail of kisses up your arm, shoulder, neck, cheek, and eventually leaving one on ur temple

it just gets u like 😵‍💫

he loves his badass gf, okay?

literally ur #1 fan

would beat up anybody who talks shit !!!

tea is ur holy ground ♡

u cant drink coffee

cause yk, adhd, youll just end up knocking tf out

though you do drink it when you cant fall asleep at night

its me, hi

and hot chocolate is strickly an only-in-december drink, bcs then it wont hit in december, cause you had it earlier in the year

(my mom does that with gorditas and tamales broooo its painful)

so ya drink tea!

i dont drink tea, so im not even gonna try to tell you what his fav is

he likes wtv u like

but you try a bunch of different teas nd stuff together :)

lowkey youd adopt a black cat together when ur older

youre never gonna beat your neighbor's witch allegations

(probably bcs their true but youll obviously never say that)

i feel like percy would be more over a dog person but lets be fr, he likes horses.

fkn horse girl smh

but that does not mean he wouldnt love and care for the cat

he'd so let you stop to pet any stray cat you see on the street

v patient with you lowkey

u cook together !!

u teach percy a bunch of different recipes nd stuff :)

has a 'kiss the cook' apron 100%

and what can ya say, you gotta kiss the cook

man you guys manage to stay silly throughout the horrors, we love

a/n pt.2: i had to do this TWICE bcs the first time i didnt i accidentally closed the tab and they didnt saveee, i feel like this is mostly me rambling but wtv, i did it tired, i did it unmotivated, i did it bored, i got it done! have a good day/night ♡

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #child of hecate #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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pixiesfz · 3 months

Note

I'm thinking kcc.

But not just kcc.

Kcc, kcc.

If possible can you do like a sweet smutty kcc fic. Like it's their first time together and they both assume that they've done it before. But they haven't so it's not just their first time together, but they're first time ever. So they're just trying navigate things and it's really fluffy.

Ofc, you don't have to but I love this concept so if you can't ill ask another writer. I love your work, though so you were my first choice <3

first time k.cc

plot: it's finally time in your relationship where you and kyra want to have sex but you both have never had sex with another woman.

warning: the fluffiest smut you will ever read

The date had been beautiful and executed just as Kyra wanted it to.

First she picked you up from your apartment after your game which she cheered you on from the friends and family section, then whilst you showered she checked in with Charli if she could borrow her big picnic blanket for the night which she allowed her too.

When you got out Kyra ran to you and squeezed you into a hug "You played so well" she whispered before kissing your cheek "Thanks baby" you smiled, squeezing her back.

"I would still prefer if you played with me at Arsenal though" she teased as Teagan came through the tunnel "she's liverpool through and through my friend" she laughed and patted Kyra on the back which she scoffed at.

"sorry babe"

She took you home before telling you she had a date idea which you obviously agreed to.

Date nights with Kyra were always creative she never had a dull thought.

Sometimes it drove you crazy but at times like this you loved it.

"Wow" you breathed out as Kyra drove up a hill into a small, secluded car park that showed a perfect view of the city and the sunset that had just started.

"Do you like it?" Kyra asked, placing her hand on your thigh.

You blushed, placing your hand on top of hers. Physical touch was one of your love languages and slowly Kyra learnt that, you knew she liked it too, especially being held when walking.

You always accepted her late night walk cuddles when she got tired.

"It's beautiful Kyra" you smiled, turning your head back so you could kiss her lips, smiling into the kiss as Kyra turned your small peck to a longer passionate kiss.

"I have wine and snacks in the back" Kyra smiled as you pulled away, laughing at her small confession "I was wondering why you were in my pantry for so long you theif"

Kyra smirked "you have the best snacks".

You rolled your eyes playfully at her comment before looking back out to the sunset.

You both watched as the sun went down, hands together as comfortable silence fell in the car.

When darkness consumed the sky, Kyra, turned the car around and opened the boot revealing a laid out picnic with wine and snacks that she had promised you.

"Ky" you breathed out in awe of the effort she had put in "it's just a silly blanket," she said trying to lower your expectations but you laughed at her attempt softly.

"Well I love it" you said simply before pulling her into a kiss.

"Are we getting in?" Kyra asked before you both climbed into the back part of the car, looking out to the now dark sky that had stars littering around.

You both laid down as you subtly took pictures of the Australian next to you.

"Stop it" she laughed but you pulled your phone from her "oh c'mon you look so good right now" you whined "Delete it" she said sternly but you crossed your head "no way".

Kyra rolled her eyes before moving closer to you "would a kiss change your mind?" she asked with a smirk, once again you crossed your head "no but you can try anyway".

Kyra smiled before leaning towards you and capturing her lips with yours.

It was a normal kiss, something that you do everyday with her but tis time felt different, you felt at home with it.

You pulled her closer to you, her hands finding your waist as your heart beat faster.

was it going to happen?

You wanted it to happen but you were scared, you had never had sex with a girl before, you assumed Kyra had as you had never questioned her.

honestly... you were a little bit scared.

But your fear wasn't controlling you when Kyra moved her lips from yours and went down to your neck, you became aware of the soft music that was playing from the radio.

"Kyra" you softly moaned as she started sucking on a certain spot on your neck, making her spend more time there before going back to your face and encapsulating her lips with yours.

Your mind was spinning as Kyra moved you so that you lay under her. You roamed your hands around her back as her hands reached into your hair, you moaned when she slightly tugged at it.

When Kyra let go of you she breathed, something that she was screaming at herself for as she seemed like she would never need to breath again if it meant kissing you like that again.

You looked up at her, your eyes scanning her face as she did the same to you "do you want to?" she asked almost as of she was reading your mind.

You nodded before she kissed you again, her hands tugging at the end of your t-shirt as you helped her take it off her eyes scanning your chest before looking at you "you're so beautiful" she said before cupping your breast with her hands.

"Kyra" you whispered as her eyes went from your chest to your face "do you want me to stop?" she asked as her hands dropped "No" you said rather to quickly for your own liking.

"I've just-" you started "I've never had sex with another woman before" you admitted and she nodded "I-" she stuttered "I haven't either" she said, blush covering her cheeks.

"I thought you had" you muttered "I thought you had too" she revealed as you lifted your hand and pulled the piece of hair that had fallen behind her ear.

"We can work this out together then," you said with a smile as she nodded "I'm happy it's with you," she said and you smiled "I'm happy it's with you too...now can we not make me the only half-naked person in here"

Kyra rolled her eyes before she let you help take off her top as well.

You placed soft kisses on her chest after it "you're so pretty" you told her before she placed her hands on each side of your head and lifted you back to her face.

"you ready?" she asked and you nodded, she placed you down on your back before grabbing the top of your shorts and underwear and slowly pulling them down your legs leaving you completely bare.

You turned your head away at sight, something Kyra noticed as she placed your head back "you're with me" she reminded you as she kissed you again.

This time she didn't stop as she kissed down your body, her hands placed on your thighs that slowly pushed them apart, revealing yourself to Kyra who looked up at you for concept.

You needed her.

"please Kyra" you said before she finally licked your heat, both of you moaning at the contact. You watched her navigate herself as she hit different parts.

"you can use your fingers" you suggested as she brought her hand around your thigh and played with your clit with her fingers which led you to moan out in pleasure.

"that's good" you stuttered "keep doing that".

You felt Kyra grow in confidence as she went quicker, pulling her tongue in and out of you, she thrived off hearing your moans and when she felt your body start to shake she knew she had done well.

"I'm gonna cum" you whimpered as she moved her fingers from your clit, switching positions with her mouth as she entered two fingers into you and continued to use her mouth on your clit.

"oh fuck" you whispered as she thrusted her fingers into you "is this good?" she asked and you nodded your head quickly "I'm so close- I'm- I'm-" you panted as you released, Kyra slowing down but kept on going to help you ride out your high.

When you finished you brought Kyra back to your face, pulling her into a kiss not minding that you were tasting yourself from her tongue.

"Was I good?" she asked and you smiled "amazing" you smirked, your hands traveling down her waist and to the starting line of her tracksuit pants.

"Can you help me return the favor?"

#woso x reader #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #matildas #arsenal wfc

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r3moony · 25 days

Text

“Eyes on me.”

A/N: this smut will be better I promise, this is actually just gonna be pure smut aftercare in the ending ofc

Pairing: Dom! Abby x Sub! F! Reader

Fingering, NO USE OF Y/N, forced eye contact, reader loves being praised, Abby loves praising reader, Abby eats reader out like a starved woman, orgasm delay, nipple play

You barley even get the chance to get through the door to your shared apartment and Abby was all over you her grip on your hips was tight, there was no doubt there would be hand marks left later….“My pretty girl” she mumbled against your skin leaving sloppy kisses over your neck, you closed your eyes tightly biting down on your lip “Abby….whats goin’ o-” she cut you of by her hand sliding down in your pants rubbing your clit through your panties as her eyes went up to your face seeing your closed eyes

“Eyes on me.” she demanded.

Your head felt like it was spinning she had barley even touched you, she was rubbing your clit in circles now, feeling your wetness through your panties “wet already?” she teased “Abby…” she hummed in response your eyes opened slowly, slight half lidded “Good girl" her voice was thick and raspy you already looked like a mess “such a mess” her fingers just felt so good just when you thought she was gonna put them in your panties she took them out of your pants “Abby no plea-” her lips crashed onto yours she took your jacket of as you kicked your boots of as well, she picked you up your legs automatically wrapped around her waist. the kissing was messy teeth clanging onto each other, she bit your bottom lip gently pulling it.

Suddenly she had you on the bed underneath her she pulled your pants down she gently lifted your hips to get them down panting heavily she went in between your legs pressing kisses up your inner thighs earning soft gasps from your pretty mouth one of her hands went up rubbing your clit through your panties again your hips moved upwards with a soft whine you could feel her smile against your thigh which caused you to blush “come on Abby..” she looked up at you then slipped your panties down throwing them somewhere

she licked a long stripe up your wet pussy earning a soft moan from you her tongue swirled around your puffy clit sucking on it, your legs wrapped around her head fingers tangled in her dark blonde hair “oh god Abby” her tongue slipped inside your clenching hole making you moaned louder this time oh the way she ate you like she hadn’t eaten in days she licked and sucked at everything she could, her mouth went back to your clit inserting a finger in your hole instead of her tongue

“I got you” she whispered before tapping the outside of your thigh as a sign to release her, she raised her head looking at her beautiful girl….HER beautiful girl you were hers all hers “My pretty girl” she said in a sweet tone before inserting a second finger in you pumping them in and out at a rough pace making you choke out moans “Shh sweetheart look at me” you turned your head to face her, oh what a mess you were for her, her thumb rubbed your clit in circles for a bit before her fingers started thrusting in and out of you causing you to writhe a squirm underneath her, you looked so fucked out and she had barley started she felt you clenching down around her fingers she snapped out of her thoughts looking at you, flushed cheeks panting chest heaving eyes still on her “cl-close so close please don’t stop” you managed to stutter out tightly gripping the sheets, then she pulled her fingers out “A-Abby?” you looked at her confused

Not so fast sweetheart” her thumb brushed against your clit light feather touches making you whimper “Abby please….” She ignored your pleas her thumb still making soft slow circles on your clit as she moved your shirt up “take your shirt and bra of for me will ya” she said looking at you “Will you let me cu-” she shushed you “Yes I will don’t worry baby just teasing” she assured you then placed a soft kiss on your cheek, she admired you her thumb pressed a bit harder on your clit making you gasp, you tried your best to pull you shirt of while she was rubbing your clit “Abby at least let me get a chan-” she sped up her circles on your clit a muffled whimper escaping your lips “Abby-” she hummed looking at you like she wasn’t making this super hard for you “Need help?” she asked, you nodded sitting up a bit so she could get the bra out of the way “so beautiful” she pressed her middle finger inside you again taking one of your nipples in her mouth sucking, licking, swirling her tongue around it, she added a second finger inside you making you moan and gasp, she noticed how you were shuddering what a sight, her mouth left your tit with pop “good girl doing so well” she praised as she went and gave the same attention to your left tit, your fingers tangled in her hair bucking your hips to meet her fingers moaning and arching your back slightly

“Abby…clo..so close” Abby left your tit with a pop going down in between your legs sucking and licking at your clit then removing her fingers as she eats you out like a starved woman your fingers find her hair again you grind yourself onto her face moaning and whispering “I love you” under your breath “Abby..oh god so close” you were so close, one of her hands went up to play with your nipples and that was what sent you over the edge she licked up everything she could watching you squirm slightly from the overstimulation she came up to you kissing you softly caressing your cheek just admiring how beautiful her girl was “come lets get you cleaned up” she picked you up and went to the bathroom.

#abby anderson #lesbian #writers on tumblr #tlou2 #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby x reader

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soggyriceee · 11 months

Note

of course !!! literally been re-reading your stuff all night- !! it’s just so good 🫶🏾🫶🏾

your request are open so can i request jealous price ? (completely fine if not)

~🐰 (< that’s me)

His Princess | Price NSFW

summary: some new intern at your job seemed to take a liking to you. John however, didnt find that too amusing and shows you, and him, who you belong to

warnings: unprotected p in v, dirty talk, jealous Price, established relationship, implied age gap, female!reader overstimulation, porn

・❥・

Price never got jealous. what was there to be jealous of? he treated you like a princess, cooked for you, wrote you poems no matter how cringe they may be. he was there for every important moment in your adult life and supported you at your lowest. but aside from the romantic and gentle factor, he fucked you really, really well.

and he knew it. he knew how good he made you feel and wasn't worried about not making you feel good. no, he never worried about it. but what he did worry about, was this new guy. Chris. he was young, like you. tall, fit, smart. oh and of course, wasn't a war criminal. it got to him. seeing him walk you out, or text you asking questions he was "too dumb to figure out" during your guys' intimate moments. it made him wanna take your phone and smash it every time his initials popped up on your phone.

but he knew you didnt see this Chris guy that way. you were in love with him, and only him.

but tonight, tonight he couldn't hold keep his jealousy secret.

he picked you up at the usual spot, just outside your office. he waited patiently for you to walk out, already expecting to see Chris following behind you. so when you both came out together he paid little mind. that was until he saw Chris's arm slip around your waist, pulling you in for a hug.

almost immediately he felt his ears and neck turn red with anger, biting his inner cheek with so much force it hurt. but it was all numbed by the jealousy he felt. who was he to touch whats his? his princess?

what made it worse was that you didnt deny the hug. you hugged him back. around the waist, but it didnt matter. it was a form of affection, a form of affection only John thought he got from you. a form of affection he believed only he was able to get.

so when you slid into his passenger side, kissing his cheeks and hugging his neck, he pulled away. "John? why are you acting like that?" you asked, placing your purse in the back seat and kicking off your heels off. he said nothing, pulling out of the driveway while watching Chris get in his own car, keeping mental notice of his black Nissan Altima.

the car ride was silent. you could tell something was wrong by the veins popping from the side of Johns neck, but also his new silence. he was never silent. not unless he was mad. really mad. and it made you nervous because John was a very vocal man. if he was upset at you for something he told you exactly what it was and why. he didnt believe in silent treatment and wills scold you if you give it to him.

so his newfound silence worried you. deeply.

as he pulled into the apartment garage you timidly grabbed your things, scared to even look at him. you didnt want to know what was on his mind, you were terrified. "when we get inside, go straight to the room. im not asking im telling." he said calmly, grabbing the keys from the ignition. you didnt reply, but simply turned to open the door, stepping out.

you followed him like a lost puppy, scared of disobeying anything he had to say. opening the door, John stood to the side, allowing you in first. once you were in, you turned to John, attempting to talk. to say something. "I don't wanna hear it. do as you're told and nothing less." he said, kicking his military boots off, continuing the no eye contact.

with your head hanging low you made your way to the room. was it something you said? maybe he was just having a bad day. but.. why take it out on you? as you made it to the room John followed not to far behind and was quick to slam the door. you jumped, turning to him. his face was still red with anger, his eyes not the same kind, gentle ones he always gave you. no, no these were dark, angry eyes. eyes that told you he wasn't going to show any mercy on you.

"undress. now." he said, his eyes never leaving your frightened ones. you complied, moving your hands to unbutton your shirt, dragging your skirt down not too long after. so there you stood, almost naked in front of this man. "bed." he said, nodding his head towards it. again you complied, sitting on the edge of the bed. you couldn't lie, as much as you were scared, you were also turned on. his dominance always had you going bonkers and he knew that. but this time it seemed like he was genuinely angry with you, and his dominance was not for your own satisfaction.

he walked to the dresser, pulling out a few things. one of those being your dildo you used while he was away. a bright red rushed to your cheeks as he threw it on the bed beside you. "lay back, on the pillow. now." he said, unzipping his sweater he had on and tossing it to the side, exposing the white tank top he had on under. he watched you, scramble to the pillow and lay on your back, looking over to him with those big round eyes. he loved it. it almost made him break. but he couldn't shake the image of that mans arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

he crawled onto of you, spreading your legs. he grunted at the wet spot that was on your panties, looking up at you. "you find this amusing? making me angry?" he asked, hooking his finger under your panties and pulling them from your pussy. you sighed at the cool air hitting your wet pussy, shaking your head. "looks like it." he said, taking his thumb to your clit, applying a generous amount of pressure. you whimpered at his touch, squeezing your eyes shut.

he was right. angry John was hot. it turned you on. made a puddle in your panties. he rubbed his thumb in slow, slow circles, watching your hips jerk up, begging for more. "stop fucking moving." he growled, gripping your hip and pinning it to the bed. again, he goes in small, slow circles.

you couldn't take this. you both knew it. but he was angry. livid. he didnt want to reward you for being a slut, now would he? " he's handsome, isn't he?" John finally asked, watching your pussy clench and unclench. you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him. "w-what?" "you heard me." he growled, shifting his gaze to you. "c-chris? he's just a friend John I-" your breath was cut short when he slid two fingers into you, a gasp sliding out from you. he tilted his head, feeling your pussy grip onto his fingers. "just a friend who wants to fuck you." price retaliated, sliding his fingers out slowly, looking at all your wetness on his fingers.

you couldn't say two words before his fingers slammed back into you, a cry of both pain and pleasure coming from you. "j-john~" you cried out, gripping his forearms. moving his fingers faster, he leaned down, sucking the skin of your neck, leaving dark and big marks. a symbol that you were his and his only. from his lips on your neck to his fingers slamming in and out of your dripping cunt, you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head. "John~ it f-feels so good." you whimpered, back arching from off the bed.

"yea? im so glad baby.." he said, but something in his tone made you second guess if it was genuine or not. he raised himself from off you, grazing his free thumb over the markings, pressing onto the ones that were darkest. "so fucking glad.." he whispered, trailing his eyes up to you.

his fingers moved faster, hitting your g spot exactly each time. the knot you felt in your stomach quickly became undone, your cum coating his fingers and dripping don to his wrists. he smiles for a moment at the mess you made, but it quickly falls. you feel his fingers move again, a gasp slipping from you. "j-john hold on p-please." you cry out, trying to move back and off his fingers. but he growls and holds you down, halting any movements that you make. "this is what sluts get. you wanna go and flirt with other guys, im gonna make sure you never do so much as breathe around him by the end of tonight." he growled, slipping a third finger in.

you groaned at the feeling of you being stretched, a slight pain hitting you every time he moved his fingers back in. "take it. I know you can." he said, watching at tears brimmed your eyes. your mind was fuzzy and coherent sentences was the last thing you could form. quickly you felt the knot return in your stomach, trying your hardest to move back. but his grip was too strong, he had you exactly where he wanted you.

your legs shook and toes curled as your second orgasm happened, your body jerking forwards from the pleasure. "thats it.. thats my good girl.. my princess." he whispered, moving his fingers slowly and enjoying the noises your pussy made for him.

breathlessly, you tried to speak but he shushed you. "don't speak." he said. as he slid his fingers out he reached for his next assault weapon. your dildo. he slapped it on your thighs, sighing. "if only he didnt have to hug you. I could be treating you like the good girl I know you are love." he said, a fake frown upon his lips. you looked up at him, hooded eyes and parted, wet lips, hoping he'd show any mercy. but he wouldn't. not any time soon.

grabbing one of your legs he pulled it up into your chest, aligning the dildo tip at your entrance. "j-john please-" before you could say a work he slammed it into you, a cry coming out from you. your leaned forward, gripping his biceps to try and help the pain. but it didn't. especially since he immediately went to slamming it in and out of you.

he loved this angle because he knew it hit the deepest part of you. the part he always made sure to hit repeatedly if he wanted you a blubbering mess. "its good huh? I bet your imagining it being his cock huh?" he said, gripping your face and forcing you to look up at him. "tell me. you're thinking about him fucking you right now, aren't you?" he asked again, gripping your face harder.

but you shook your head frantically, tears brimming your eyes. the toy kissed your cervix ever so slightly, broken whimpers and cries leaving you. but he loved it. he loved seeing you so broken and disheveled. he loved knowing that he was doing that to you, not some coworker of yours. he looked down, watching the thick toy slide in and out of you with ease, bubbles of your slick popping up every now and then.

"oh you love this dont you. look how wet this pussy is love.. your fucking enjoying it." he whispered, licking his lips. he slowed the movements down, wanting to take in just hot wet you really were. it made the hard on in his pants hurt more, taking his free hand and unbuckling his pants to relieve some of the pressure. he moaned at the slight feeling of freeness, shifting his attention back down to you.

" you think you deserved to get fucked baby? tell me, honestly." he said, sliding the dildo out slightly before sliding it right back in. despite your efforts to reply to him, you couldn't form words. your head was fuzzy and your words came out incoherent. "whats that princess?" he chuckled, halting the dildo. opening your eyes and looking up at his mischievous ones, you mumbled, "yes.. p-please.."

he slid the soaked dildo out, a string of slick coming from you. he moaned at the sight, palming himself through his pants. "fuck lovie... imma fuck you so badly. fill you up with this cum." he growled, quickly sliding his pants down, pulling his hard on through the hole in his boxers. the tip dripped with pre cum, his tip red. you whimpered at the sight, bucking your hips up. he smiled at the sight, shaking his head. "needy slut."

pulling your knees to your chest, he aligns the tip to your hole, looking down at it. the mix of your slick and his pre cum almost made the tip slide right in. but e was quick with it, pulling away. "fuck your wet.. does he make you this wet baby? tell me. tell me he makes you this wet." as much as you wanted to say the truth, you felt like lying would make him fuck you even harder.

"y-yes.. he does." you said meekly, not looking directly into his eyes. but you felt his eyes on you. you felt the anger radiating off of him. " say it again. with your chest this time." he whispers, fingers digging into the sides of your thighs. so, looking up at him from between your thighs, you repeated yourself. "he made me this wet.. " you said.

the look on his face went from angry to something more than angry. something you couldn't even describe. "where's your phone. give it to me now." he said, letting your thighs go. you hesitated but leaned over the bed, grabbing your fallen phone. you handed it to him and he snatched it, shoving you back to where you once were.

"wanna act like a no good slut, imma fuck you like one." he said, facing the phone down to your cunt. you tried to retaliate but he slammed his dick into you, a yelp leaving you. he hissed, gripping your thigh, nail marks following behind. immediately he went in with a fast pace, bending you so your knees now rested beside your head.

never had John gotten jealous. not that he's shown you. and he's never recorded you guys fucking. he thought it was a personal thing between you both. he also didnt want others seeing your perfect body. " you like this, huh? you like getting fucked on camera?" he asked, holding the phone down to record his dick sliding in and out. the room filled with both your noises, skin slapping and the wet sounds of your pussy and his dick making contact.

"J-John~ please" you whimpered, gripping the sheets below you. his tip hit your cervix directly, tears forming in your eyes. "please what? you think you deserve shit right now? huh?" he grabbed your face, forcing you to look up at the camera. "say hi Chris." he said, picking up the pace slowly. you whined, clenching around him despite the embarrassment you felt taking over you. " say hi. dont be rude." he smiled above you, shaking your head side to side gently. "h-hi.. hi Chris." you whimpered, looking up at the camera.

John grunted, moving the camera back to your cunt. he watched you from the camera, moving his hands from his face to your clit, rubbing circles. " you gonna cum again love? I know you want to." he said, shifting his gaze to your twisted face.

he moved one of your legs to lay straight, the other still pressed onto the mattress. he almost came at the sight of his bulge in your lower stomach. "fuck~ J-john im gonna c-cum" you cried, already feeling the wobbliness of your legs coming back. "cum baby. show Chris who makes you cum. show him.. I know he wants to see." he said. moving deeper inside you, slowing down a bit.

your body was on fire, your slick dripping from your pussy despite his dick filling you up. your mind was hazy and you tried your best to focus on John, but you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back. couldn't stop the drool coming from your mouth. it made a whimper slip from John's lips, the look on your face making his dick twitch. "im close baby.. im so close." he whispered. he held the phone at your connecting sexes, wanting to record the cum pouring from your cunt.

"come on baby. cum. cum for me I know you can do it. be my good little princess and cum all over.. fuck" he watched the cum spurt out of you, some getting onto the camera lens, most of it getting onto his abdomen. tears flowed out your eyes, broken cries coming from your plump lips. he gasped, feeling his own cum shooting out of him at the sight, no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. it was too much for him.

his hips jerked forward, the phone dropping to the bed, his hands pressing on the wall for support. his hips moved back into yours, riding out both your high and his. whimpers left his lips along with heavy pants. "f-fuck" he growled, his body slowly dropping to your. slowly he leaned for the phone, stopping the video. you heard 'sent' ding coming from your phone, realizing he was recording the whole time. "John you cant send that.. its sexual-" "ill kill him if he gets you fired for this." he said, looking down at you.

you knew he was serious. it made you clench around him. he chuckled, kissing your cheek and slowly pulling out before sliding back in, forcing his cum into you. " keep it in there." he whispered, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you smiled, nodding slowly. "I will." you smiled, hugging his neck. he sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"im sorry princess. im got carried away." he said after a moment of silence. you shook your head, kissing the top of his head. " dont apologize. im sorry I let him hug me. I dont think that'll happen anymore." you chuckled. he smiled and nodded, kissing the top of your covered breasts. " I love you princess. so much." he whispered, resting his chin on your chest, looking up at you. you back, running your fingers through his slightly messy beard. "I love you more."

#cod x reader #call of duty fan fiction #call of duty x reader #John Price #John Price x reader #John Price smut #captain price #captain price smut

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avastrasposts · 1 day

Text

Big Sky Country - ch. 1

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC

Hi!

I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)

And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!

Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.

Series Master List

Main Master list

Prologue

The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed.

So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks.

Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in.

He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears.

He dropped his hand.

Waited.

Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home.

He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again.

But she was here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here.

Chapter One

A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap.

“You growing roots, old man?”

The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger.

The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar.

“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes.

“You coming or going, cowboy?”

“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist.

“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.”

“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face.

“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him.

“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.”

He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass, and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin, she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he couldn't help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him, checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb.

“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him.

“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.”

“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses.

Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat.

“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.”

“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip.

She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who stepped in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble.

This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends.

As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seemed to carry more of a burden than most.

“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass.

“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek.

“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over his face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She was temporarily mesmerized by how they bounced back around his ears as he squashed the cap back down.

“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head.

“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return.

“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.”

“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.”

“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.”

“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.”

She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.”

“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information.

“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her.

“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again.

“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head.

“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.” She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down.

Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke, the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.

She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him.

“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it.

“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?”

“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans.

She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile.

“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?”

Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter.

“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?”

“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.”

“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed.

“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”

“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet.

“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.”

Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged.

“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.”

“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head.

“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.”

Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries.

“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him.

“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.”

“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.”

“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.”

He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private.

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic.

When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon.

The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here.

Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy.

But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more.

Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it.

He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city.

Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet.

Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence.

After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else.

And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected.

“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.”

The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child.

Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child.

“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.”

Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it.

“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.”

She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped.

Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer.

Chapter 2

A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!

❤

Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi

#frankie morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier

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explorevenus · 1 year

Text

toy cars & princess tea parties ♡ steddie x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!! srsly i will scream

word count - 4.8k

description - a few years after the (non-canon) events of season four, steddie and reader are grappling with the implications of adulthood-- eddie comes home from work with an interesting idea to take their relationship to the next milestone...

tags/warnings - polyamory, pet names (baby, princess, angel, doll, etc.), praise, threesome, breeding, fem!reader, eddie being mischievous bc he 100% planned this, steve playing right into eddie’s hand and going absolutely feral, p-in-v ofc ♡ also one use of (Y/N) which i didn’t know was a problem for some people but apparently it is so there’s ur warning

a/n - ok i’m sorry but ever since my first time witnessing the six lil nuggets speech i cannot get over the CANONIZED FACT that steve harrington is INTO BREEDING. it’s canon to me and u can ARGUE WITH THE WALL. that being said i felt it was my civic duty to rope eddie into it bc i physically cannot help myself and here we are ♡ i hope u enjoy, i will repent later ♡

p.s. i used the stand-in name ‘jennifer’ for them to refer to a random npc classmate of theirs bc apparently that was an incredibly popular name in the 80′s so if ur name is actually jennifer i am sorry in advance but the name is only mentioned like two or three times at the beginning so

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ! ♡

-venus ♡

It started out as a quiet, normal evening.

You were curled up on the couch with Steve, drifting in and out of naps as he played with your hair and absently watched whatever was on the TV. You were both off work today, and unsurprisingly, it was rather quiet without Eddie around. He'd been working late shifts at the record store lately-- something about a coworker needing a schedule change to coincide with her college classes.

So, there the two of you sat, your hair messy with sleep as you slumped into Steve's chest, his strong arm closed tight around your shoulder, thumb caressing your exposed arm where your blanket had slipped down. It was cozy, it was lazy, it was sweet.

A stark contrast to what you didn't know you were in for that night.

Your sleepy eyes blinked open at the sound of the front door to your shared apartment opening, and you and Steve both turned your heads to see Eddie walk in. Eddie tossed his keys on the counter and stretched his arms up with a dramatic, satisfied groan before kicking his boots off, and his dark chocolate eyes soon trailed across the room to you and Steve.

His lips were quick to upturn into a smile. "What a sight to come home to. Aren't you two just adorable?"

"Says you," You mumbled tiredly, opening up your arms so as to coax him to join you on the couch. "How was work?"

Eddie's posture softened and he wasted little time giving into your command, plopping down on the couch beside you and joining Steve in playing with your hair. "It was fine. Work's work, y'know."

You hummed in acknowledgement, just about to drift back to sleep at the added warmth of his body before he spoke up again.

"Do you guys remember Jennifer from high school?" Eddie asked.

Steve pondered for a moment. "Jennifer... which Jennifer?"

"Chess club Jennifer," Eddie confirmed. "She came into the record store with her boyfriend today, that guy Todd? Well, I guess he's her husband now. Anyway, she was like, super pregnant. Isn't that weird to think about? People we went to high school with are having kids now."

It certainly was weird to think about. High school felt like it was a lifetime ago just about as much as it felt like yesterday, and classmates getting married and starting families were just another harsh reminder that you were all well and truly adults now.

"Yeah... wow. That's a trip," You mumbled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "Sometimes I forget we're not 16 anymore."

"Yeah, seriously," Steve hummed in agreement, and you could have sworn you noticed his muscles tense beneath you.

"Well, good for them," You added, hoping to cut through some of that tension. "They've been dating since like, freshman year. I guess it was only a matter of time."

Eddie let out a little breath through his nose, grinning as he stared forward at the TV, but it was evident he wasn't really watching.

You raised an eyebrow and nudged him. "What?"

Eddie shrugged, drumming his fingers on your hip and stealing glances between you and Steve. "Only a matter of time, huh?" He asked. "Good to know."

Eyes widening, you quickly straightened your posture and stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" You pressed further. Steve was watching him too, reaching for the remote and muting the TV without even looking. The silence was deafening.

Eddie shrugged again, face smug with amusement. "I don't know, it's just... seeing them all happy together and starting a family, it just kinda got me thinking, y'know? That could be us someday."

Steve's hand froze on your arm, and now you could hardly read his expression. You just stared between them with eyes so wide you were sure they could see right through them and into the cogs turning in your head.

"Just think about it for a sec, okay? Indulge me for a minute," Eddie continued. "Little Munsons and Harringtons running around, Saturday morning cartoons, bathing fat little babies in the sink... wonder whose seed'll take first," He chuckled to himself.

But that comment alone got to you. Your face burned, and now it was you pretending to watch the TV, even with the sound off. Heat pooled in your core with an embarrassing quickness, and it felt nearly impossible to fight off the image of trying, Steve and Eddie fucking you into a sobbing mess and filling you up to the brim, competing to see who would knock you up first. You swallowed dryly.

"I-I need some water," You stammered, peeling yourself out of their arms and abandoning your blanket as you disappeared into the kitchen.

You had never really talked about having kids before. Steve had always shown an interest in starting a family, but you weren't really sure where you stood, and Eddie didn't seem like the type. You always figured it would be a conversation for another day, a day in the distant future when you were all finally adults working big jobs, picket fence and whatnot.

Yet here you were.

"You alright there, baby?" Steve's voice broke you out of your deep thought and you realized your glass was full beneath the tap, cool water spilling out over your fingers shortly after he'd spoken.

You flinched and turned off the water, setting your glass down and reaching for a rag to dry your hands. You couldn't quite bring yourself to look at him as you replied, "I'm fine, just... thinking."

"Thinkin' pretty hard, it looks like," Eddie teased, coming up behind you with a squeeze to your hips and a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. "Didn't mean to freak you out, doll."

"I'm not freaked out! I promise," You were quick to clarify, taking a big sip of your water with a shaking hand. "Just... caught off guard, I guess. I've never really thought about having kids before."

Eddie let out a little pff. "Oh, come on, I don't believe that. You've never thought about it before? Not even one time?"

You shook your head.

He turned you around in his arms, taking the glass from your hand and returning it to the counter, ensuring he had your full attention. Steve was leaned on the door frame listening, observing. Watching your reddened face.

"You're blushing," Eddie chuckled quietly, leaning down to brush his lips over your forehead before turning over his shoulder to look at Steve. "Help me out here, Harrington?"

But Steve looked just about as flustered as you did. "It would be nice," He admitted. "I've thought about it. A lot. You would make a beautiful mother, (Y/N)."

"See?" Eddie smirked. "Harrington agrees with me."

"Don't you guys think we should wait? I mean, the apartment works just fine for the three of us, but it's a little small to raise kids in, and we're still so young," You said, though you weren't fully sure whether you were trying to convince them or yourself. "It's just a really big decision. I don't think we should rush into it."

"We can get a house!" Eddie grinned, brushing your hair away from your face. "I'll work overtime at the record store, book extra gigs at The Hideout. Whatever I need to do to make that happen. We'll find somewhere real nice, fenced yard and all that. Maybe we can even talk Steve into building a treehouse."

"I don't know, Eds..." You sighed.

You fully expected Steve to back you up on the absurdity of that suggestion, but he didn't. "That's not such a bad idea. I've been saving up from my paychecks since we graduated. It was meant to be a safeguard if Vecna came back and we all needed to hit the road, but it's been a few years now. Maybe we should just do it. Real estate's pretty cheap around here, given everything that's happened."

Perhaps they had a point, although selfishly, you sort of wanted them to keep trying to talk you into it.

"That's great, but have you guys really thought this through? Like really thought it through? Babies are a lot of work, and our relationship is hard enough to explain as it is, people are going to have so many questions--"

"Then let ‘em ask," Eddie interrupted you, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, though he quickly became distracted by your throat, tipping your chin up with his pointer finger. "I don't give a fuck. It doesn't change anything. They'll just be jealous that they don't have an extra parent for their kids like we do, right Stevie?" He spoke between increasingly sloppy kisses to your neck, teeth nipping at your warming skin.

"Exactly," Steve smiled softly, crossing his legs where he stood, and you almost could have sworn you saw the front of his sweatpants tightening. "We're already better off than most couples, if my math is right."

You were quickly melting under Eddie's attention, and Steve's lustful gaze. While you might have initially hoped that excusing yourself for a drink of water would help you cool off, it was entirely obvious now that such an attempt was in vain-- you couldn't fight with yourself anymore. They'd successfully convinced you.

Swallowing thickly, you tangled your fingers into Eddie's messy curls and could hardly bring yourself to look at either of them as you spoke in a near-whisper, "O-Okay, let's do it..."

Eddie froze, pulling away from your neck with a parting nip of the flesh so that he could stare at you with stars in his eyes. "What did you just say?" He asked.

Shyly, you glanced between them, a giddy smile tugging at your burning cheeks. They both looked truly in disbelief. "I said let's do it. Let's try for a baby."

Eddie hardly had a chance to react before Steve crossed the small kitchen and took your face in his hands, pupils blown wide as his mouth collided with yours. You stumbled back into the countertop at the force of him, gripping the edge with one hand and fisting his old Hawkins High gym shirt with the other. Eddie could do little but step back and observe, and unbeknownst to you and Steve, since you were preoccupied, Eddie had quite the satisfied smirk resting on his face. Truthfully, he knew this was what Steve wanted and that it likely wouldn't be much of a challenge to get you both going, the devil that he is. There was nowhere better to start than to just witness the fruit of his efforts.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," Steve spoke against your lips, letting one hand drop down to slide up beneath your shirt-- a shirt you'd stolen from Eddie's side of the closet-- and you shivered at the feeling of his warm skin on yours. "No idea how long I've wanted to hear you say it, princess..."

"S-Steve--" You gasped, but he wasn't finished yet.

"Say it again," He grunted, hips rutting into yours, and... yeah, his grey sweatpants were definitely getting tight. "Say you're gonna make me a fuckin' daddy, sweetheart."

Eddie watched with anticipation, palming impatiently at the front of his jeans. He knew Steve wanted this, but he didn't know he wanted it this badly.

Breaths quickening, you briefly took Steve's bottom lip between your teeth just to drive him that much crazier before giving in to his request, voice soft and sweet. "I'm gonna make you a fucking daddy, Steve..."

Steve let go of your face to hike one of your legs up over his hip, driving his clothed cock into the seat of your thin pajama shorts. You let out a choked whine, feeling a rush of wetness pooling in your panties, head swimming with need.

"Forgetting someone, angel?" Eddie interjected smugly, eyebrow raised, working himself stiff over his jeans.

Panting against Steve's hot, wet kisses, you barely managed to get the words out. "G-Gonna make you a daddy, Eds... gonna give you a baby..."

Steve groaned against you, lips sloppily trailing down your chin as he lifted you up in one quick motion, peeking his eyes open just enough to orient himself so that he could carry you towards the bedroom. You grabbed at Eddie's free hand as you passed, dragging him along with you, although he hardly needed any convincing-- he'd been waiting for this all day, resisting the urge to feign a sudden onset illness just to skip out of work and fuck you dumb, even though it appeared Steve was determined to beat him to it.

Steve shoved the bedroom door open with a heavy hand and wasted no time pinning you to the bed, tugging at your shirt like he'd die if it didn't come off, and in your eagerness to be touched by them you were quick to lift it over your head for him, exposing your soft chest to the cool air of the room. Steve's teeth dragged over your collarbones and down to the swell of your breast, sucking a harsh mark there before he took your nipple into his mouth and swirled over it with his slick tongue.

"F-Fuck," You sighed, taking a fistful of his thick hair.

Eddie shed himself of his t-shirt and jeans before joining the two of you on the bed, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand and stroking his hardened cock with the other. "You're gonna look so pretty with a baby in you, dollface," He mused, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. "Everyone's gonna know you're fuckin' ours, huh? Ours forever."

You nodded hazily, reaching out to grab at his thigh, your nails pressing little crescent moon shapes into his alabaster skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, pace of his hand faltering. Eddie didn't want to cum just yet, for obvious reasons, but it was hard to stop himself from jerking off as he watched you writhe under Steve's touch. He found himself having to exercise some serious self control.

Pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, Steve slid his hand beneath the waistband of your shorts and ran two fingers over your drenched panties. "So good and wet for me already," He praised, watching with lust thick in his eyes as you inadvertently bucked into his hand. "You just can't wait, can you? Want me to fuck a baby into you so bad..."

"Y-Yes, Steve, please," You whimpered, shaking hands carding through his hair. "W-Want it so bad..."

"Easy, Harrington," Eddie chuckled breathlessly. "It was my idea. I'm goin' first."

Steve shot him a look that could truly kill, dragging his fingertips over your clothed clit just to make you squirm. "What are we, twelve?" He scoffed.

"Whatever. Don't make me push you off the bed, Stevie. Move," Eddie grunted, expecting Steve to put up more of a fight, but he didn't. He simply rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand from your shorts, clambering off of you to busy himself undressing for now.

Eddie crawled atop your trembling body, kissing down your chest as he dragged your panties and shorts down with a hooked finger. You hastily kicked them off and let them drop off the edge of the bed, leaving you completely bare for them. Eddie took a moment to soak in the sight of you with adoring, hungry eyes, dipping a calloused finger into your folds to ensure you were as wet as Steve said-- you definitely were, in fact, even more so than he'd been led to believe.

With a proud smirk and shaking hands he took hold of your hip, dragging the reddened, weeping head of his cock up the length of your pussy to slick himself with your arousal. You flinched at the stimulation, bucking toward him with a soft mewl of his name, a coded plea for him to get on with it, and he chuckled.

"I've got you, baby," He soothed, gifting you a sweet kiss. "Gonna fuck you real good, promise."

Your jaw dropped in bliss as the head of his cock breached your entrance, and without even thinking about it you hooked a leg around him and drew him deeper into you. He was trying to be gentle, considering they hadn't prepared you quite as well as they usually would, but he was impatient and clearly, so were you. His hips jerked into yours as he lost himself to the feeling of your plush, soaked walls hugging him tightly, and as he buried himself in to the hilt he let out a low growl that was almost animalistic.

Eyelashes fluttering, you whimpered in pleasure at the feeling, holding his soft biceps to ground yourself. "Fuck, Eddie..." You sighed, rocking into him.

"Jesus, baby, you gotta be patient, or I'm gonna bust and then neither of us will get to enjoy this," He chuckled breathlessly, fingertips pressing into your hips as he slowly began to move. "Fuck, you feel like a dream..."

Your head fell back into the pillows as the pace of his thrusts picked up and steadied-- he'd quickly found his rhythm, watching your tits move with every snap of his hips against yours, and he could hardly believe his luck that he'd found two people as perfect as you and Stevie, let alone that you'd agreed to start a family with him. Just the thought of it drove him crazy, and he could barely look at you anymore or he would finish way too soon. Screwing his eyes shut, Eddie let his own head fall back similarly to yours as he submitted himself to the feeling, and the sinful sounds of your slick cunt taking all he would give you.

Steve, newly naked, sat beside you on the bed, taking your breasts into his big hands, thumbs skimming over your pebbled nipples as he watched Eddie fuck you. "Takin' him so well, sweetheart," He mused, resisting the urge to reach for your clit. "You're such a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

"S-Stevie," You whined, speech slurring with pleasure as you reached weakly for his hand. "Feels so... so good..."

He hummed, taking a hold of your hand, lips brushing over your knuckles. "I'll bet it does, princess. Gonna let Eds make you a mama, huh?"

"Mhm," You nodded, squeezing his hand. "A-And you too..."

Steve chuckled softly, kissing your knuckles again, more affirmatively this time. "That's right. That's my good girl."

With the combination of their filthy words and the near bruising feeling of Eddie's engorged cock prodding at your cervix, you were ashamed to admit that you were already nearing the finish line too. You desperately clenched around Eddie in an attempt to hold on, but it would seem as though the action brought him that much closer to his own end.

His rings were cold on your hot skin as one hand moved from your hip to the lower part of your stomach, applying just enough pressure to intensify the feeling of his swollen cock inside you. Your mouth fell open in a near silent cry, and Eddie couldn't help a breathless little laugh at your reaction. He just couldn't believe how adorable you were, how perfect you looked even while he was fucking you like a touch starved teenager.

"Right here," Eddie groaned, taking his lip between his teeth with a wild grin. "That's where our perfect little baby is gonna grow, right between these gorgeous fuckin' hips of yours, princess..." His inked skin glowed with sweat in the low bedroom light, and your cheeks burned.

It was in that moment that you started to realize that Eddie really must have been thinking about this for a long time-- running into a classmate of yours at work was just a convenient excuse to bring it up. Regardless, you couldn't help but be glad that he did.

"S-So close, Eds, m'close... please," You whimpered, feeling that knot begin to tighten deep within you, but in his concentration it would seem Eddie had barely registered your plea.

No matter, Steve was certainly paying close attention. He gently brushed your hair away from your face so that he could admire you properly before allowing his hand to travel down the length of your stomach, dipping in the space between you and Eddie so that he could toy with your clit. Mewling in pleasure, you gripping Steve's wrist with a shaking, white knuckled hand as your high crested over you-- you felt your walls pulsing around Eddie's thick cock as your cum seeped out around him.

It would seem that alone was enough to push Eddie finally over the edge. His fingertips bore deeply into your skin, pace of his thrusts faltering as he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could manage and shortly thereafter, you were graced with warmth and butterflies as his hot seed flooded your cunt. The deep, broken moan that fell from his lips was unlike anything you'd ever heard from him before, primal and satisfied like he'd never had an orgasm quite like this. With stilted movements he continued to fuck his seed into you for just a moment until he was absolutely positive you'd drained him dry, and only then was he able to will himself to pull out.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you drive me crazy," He huffed, catching his breath as he reached forward with his thumb and caught a stray globe of pearly white that was threatening to slip out of you, pushing it gently back into your sensitive pussy. "Can't waste a single fuckin' drop, now can we? Not 'til you're good 'n knocked up, huh?"

"E-Eds," You whimpered, jolting beneath his touch and finding yourself unable to do much more than make grabby hands at him, craving his affection.

Flopping to the bed on the other side of you, his lips brushed over your sweaty temple as he soothed, "M'right here, princess, m'not goin' anywhere."

Steve was kind enough to allow you a moment to come back to Earth before reminding you of his presence with a soft touch to your thigh. "Are you ready to go again, sweetheart?" He asked, kind words juxtaposed by the absolute carnal hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide as he soaked in the pretty sight of Eddie's seed leaking from your cunt.

Just the sight of him hovering over you, careful hands spreading you open by your shaking thighs was more than enough to reignite the flame in your core, bringing a renewed wave of need. You nodded lazily, reaching for his hand.

Steve laced his fingers in yours. "Use your words, princess."

"I-I'm ready, Stevie," You sighed with a sweet smile, your hips working off of a mind of their own as you bucked gently toward him. "Want your cum... n-need it so bad..."

You almost could have sworn you saw his eyes roll back into his head in pure bliss at the sound of those words leaving your lips. In no need of any further convincing, Steve softly kneaded your quivering thigh in his large hand before taking his woefully hard cock in the other, lining himself up with your entrance in a way which took special care to push any stray seed of Eddie's back into you. Your head fell back with a quiet whine, already sensitive from having came already, but equally so your mouth was watering and you could hardly think coherently through the thick fog of need that clouded your fucked out brain.

Steve drove into you as carefully as he could manage in his eagerness, cognizant of your sensitivity but all too anxious to give it all to you. As he bottomed out inside of your slick cunt his eyes screwed shut, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of your cum-soaked walls pulling him in.

He groaned deeply, hips snapping impatiently forward. "S-Six..." He muttered, perhaps to himself, but the utterance did not go unnoticed by you or Eddie.

"Huh?" You mewled, squeezing his hand as you rocked on the bed. "Stevie?"

"Six," He said more clearly now. "I've always wanted six... six cute little terrors, and you're gonna be their mama, huh?"

"Six?" You gasped, but were quickly subdued by the pleasure of his thick cock rutting deeply inside of you, threatening closer to your cervix.

Eddie chuckled. "We could handle it. I mean, we've had plenty of practice."

Now it was you squeezing your eyes shut, head lazily shaking back and forth on the mattress. "Uh-uh," You moaned. "T-That's... s'too many..."

"Jus' think about it," Steve grinned. "Three boys, three girls. Toy cars and princess tea parties, road trips in Eddie's van..."

"S'too much," You slurred, though at this point neither Steve nor Eddie could tell if you were still referring to the six kids thing or if you were just getting overstimulated. They silently figured both were possibly true.

Eddie smoothed your hair away from your forehead. "Doin' so well for us, princess. Just a little longer, m'kay? Stevie's gonna take good care of you."

Tears pricked at your eyes as your second high of the night continued approaching all too quickly. Every last movement Steve made pushed you closer and closer to the edge, beckoning you to finish once more, and it felt so horrifically good that it almost hurt. You could hardly think straight, unintelligible moans tumbling from your lips as you squeezed Steve's hand like he'd disappear if you let go.

"Don't fight it," Steve said breathlessly, squeezing your hand in return as an acknowledgement of your inability to speak up. "Just cum for me, honey, just let go and cum for me..."

His words alone sent shivers down the length of you that glittered and bloomed at the base of your spine and brought your legs together, inadvertently pulling him deeper into you as you cried out and gushed over his hard cock. Your whole body shaking, you hardly even noticed that your free hand was reaching for Eddie's.

"Aww... you're okay, you're alright," Eddie cooed, taking your hand while Steve continued to rut into you, though it was evident he wasn't far from his end, either. "You still with us, pumpkin?" Eddie checked in.

It took you a second to fully process what he'd asked of you, but once you did, you nodded hazily.

"That's my girl, all fucked out and dumb," He praised. "Aren't you just the cutest, hm?"

Eddie brought your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles, and when you pulled his hand towards yourself he expected you would return the affection-- instead, you took his thick middle and ring fingers into your mouth as if to pacify yourself.

He nearly came again at that motion alone.

Steve, who watched this exchange occur with lust-blown eyes, drove into your cunt hard, white knuckling your hips as his jaw dropped in a jagged moan and he emptied his seed as deeply inside you as he could physically manage. For a moment he couldn't bring himself to pull out, rocking into you just a few more gentle times as if to fuck it further in. You were a quivering, whining mess at the hand of his ministrations.

Once he had properly descended back to Earth from his high, Steve leaned down to kiss the blushing bridge of your nose, and then Eddie's ringed knuckles that rested just before your lips. You blinked absently, tears bubbling in your lashes, but even so you couldn't help but smile at how sweet they could be in the aftermath of acts that would reasonably deny you entry into heaven.

"You're so good for us, sweetheart," Steve mused, steadying you by your waist as he unsheathed himself from you, slowly so as not to waste any of their seed. "I can't wait for us to have our own family."

You sucked softly at Eddie's fingers, gazing up at Steve with hazy doe eyes that wordlessly pleaded for him to join you on the bed. Typically he would make you say what you wanted out loud, but neither of them felt the need to bother tonight. After all, you were gifting them something they couldn't get from anyone else, something they only wanted from you.

Catching his breath, Steve brushed his hair away from his face and laid on the other side of you, drawing your shaking body into his warm chest. Eddie scratched your back lovingly as Steve played with your soft hair.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed while you all regained proper consciousness, but that silence was broken by Eddie.

"I hope it’s a boy.”

"A boy?" You gasped, turning over your shoulder to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Like there aren't enough of you already?"

#venustext #sintext #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

Text

Coming Home (Part Fifteen)

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: None! Apart from angst, ofc.

⧪

No.

No, no, no. Not now. This couldn’t be happening now.

Nothing existed in your head but screeching, screaming. None of the euphoria that had taken its place there only moments ago. An endless, relentless wind of darkness whipping around your brain and swallowing you up–

Mate. The word was clanging around in there somewhere, a millstone fastening itself around your neck. Not now, not now, not now.

You were winded. Leached of all breath, of all ability to think. Your trembling hands gripped onto the railing behind you – the only thing that stopped your legs from giving out beneath you.

Azriel was staring back at you, his eyes just as wide. But…understanding, it looked like, dawning across his face. Like the fog of a century of confusion was clearing, and things were beginning to make sense, realisation hitting–

You wanted to scream. You may have been screaming, for all you were aware of what was happening inside your head, and outside of it.

Fate must have been watching from somewhere above, cackling at you. Why now – you wanted to scream at the skies. Why, when–

When you’d already made peace with the fact that you were leaving Velaris again – perhaps never to return.

When before you’d even arrived at the Starfall celebrations that evening, you’d known this would be your last night here. That you were affording yourself one more night with the family you felt so disconnected from – and then you were out of here.

When you’d already written to Tarquin, informing him of your imminent arrival.

Fate was definitely laughing at you. Definitely punishing you – perhaps for being the hateful, bitter person that the passing years had moulded you into. Perhaps you deserved this.

“Y/N.” Azriel’s voice, though quiet as usual, may as well have been a claxon up on that roof. It hurt your ears, your head – your heart. He took a single step towards you. “Y/N.”

You blinked, tears spilling over that you didn’t even realise had formed. You attempted to take a step back – to get away from him – but the cold railing only pressed further against your back.

“Y/N.” Az repeatedly softly. “You…you’re my–”

“I need to leave.” You choked out; you couldn’t let him say the word. Couldn’t allow him to make it real. You sidestepped him. “I need to go.”

His beautiful features folded into a frown, lips parting. He reached for you, but not fast enough – you were already pushing past him. “Y/N…what…?”

“I’m leaving.” In great, hurried strides, you’d reached the door to the roof. Az was hot on your trail, his lips speaking words you couldn’t hear beneath the roaring of your mind. Somehow, you managed to force your feet down the stairs, though your legs could buckle at any moment.

“Where are you going?” Az’s boots thudded closely behind you. “Dammit, Y/N.”

Home – you were going home. Somehow. You had to get out of here, out of the House of Wind, and back to your house – where you were then leave for Adriata. You just needed to find someone–

Cassian. That was who you were looking for. You reached the lower level, not even acknowledging Az following you as you took a sharp turn into the kitchen. It was empty – everyone still out on the main balcony, still going about their celebrations as if the entire world hadn’t just cleaved and shook – except for Cassian fixing himself a drink. You almost cried out in relief.

“Cas.” You hurried over. “Cassian.”

The Illyrian general looked up with a smile – that quickly fell as he took in your features, the tears streaming down your cheeks, the undoubtedly shell-shocked expression taking up your face. The stardust smattering your clothes and hair. And then he glanced to Azriel behind you, his gaze flickering between the two of you. Could he sense what had just changed? Scent the…the bond, perhaps–

“Cas, I need you to fly me home. Now.” You breathed, every part of you trembling.

“What–”

“I can fly you home.” Azriel spoke quietly behind you. He took a step closer. “I – let me take you home.”

You backed away so fast, you knocked into Cassian, barely registering his warm hands steadying you. “No. No. I want Cassian to take me.”

Azriel’s face crumpled again. That was a silent plea in his eyes. “Y/N…please…”

But you were ignoring him. Turning in Cassian’s arms, and hoping that your eyes were communicating the utter desperation you felt. He shot one more look at Az before meeting your gaze, his brow deeply furrowed.

“Please, Cas.” You whispered. “Please just take me home.”

Tracking a tear that rolled down your cheek, he nodded. “...Okay. Yeah. Of course.”

“The other balcony,” You managed to bite, your hand dragging Cassian towards the glass doors that opened out onto the smaller, unoccupied veranda. Your feet stumbled ungracefully, stalling and tripping every other step, but Cas’s firm grip was enough to keep you upright.

“Y/N.” Azriel followed, bursting so hard through those glass doors, it was a wonder he didn’t smash them. “Just–”

“Leave it, brother.” Cassian said, scooping you into his arms. You could have sobbed in relief. “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

And then he shot into the skies, Az’s stunned, bewildered figure becoming smaller and smaller as the distance stretched. You clung to Cas with a grip so hard, your nails bit into his skin; you didn’t know if it was the fear of such a height, or just the need to hold on to something that kept you gripping, firmer and firmer.

Cas didn’t ask questions – he’d always been brilliant like that. Leaving room for you to talk if you wished, but not pushing it. Even though his mind must have been crammed full with questions about what may have happened back there – he didn’t ask. Didn’t even speak.

He landed just outside your property with feather-light steps, not even giving you room to argue as he pulled you up to the door and walked you inside, his hand a solid grip on your own. Not that you had the capacity, right then, to argue; you were seconds from collapsing, or – something. Hyperventilating. Completely fucking breaking.

Cas stopped in the doorway, watching you silently – waiting for some kind of indication that you were alright – as you began to pace the floor, rubbing a hand over your chest as if to ease the ache that had gathered there. Maybe you would throw up, right there, over the dress Azriel had bought you. Part of you wanted to rip it off and burn it.

“You don’t have to tell me anything…” Cas said, inching closer. “But…I’m worried. Are you alright? You don’t look alright.”

No, you wanted to tell him, I’ve never been less alright. The temptation to drop at his feet and sob until you were hoarse was very much present, but – there would be no chance to leave Velaris with him watching over you.

And that was the only thing that could make you feel better. Getting out of here. Leaving it all behind.

“I’m fine.” You choked; it was laughable how unconvincing it sounded. “You don’t have to stay here. Go back to the party, Cas.”

He didn’t move. Just continued to eye you warily. “...I don’t want to leave you like this. Did Az–”

“I’m fine, Cassian. I just – I’m just going to go to bed.

Lies. You were such a pretty, skilled liar. Part of you hated yourself for it – for being deceitful. What if this was the last time you clapped eyes on Cas? The male who had been like a brother to you from the day you were born? What if you never saw him again–

No. You couldn’t start having thoughts like that…thoughts that would talk you out of your decision. Emotions were the last thing you needed to bring into this. You needed to be stoic, unblinking – to convince yourself that you didn’t care.

“Seriously, Cas. I’m just…I’m exhausted. I need to sleep.” You paused – and then forced another lie that almost wrangled a sob from your throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

No, you wouldn’t. And he had no fucking clue.

“Just…send word…if you need me.” Cassian said. “Whatever it is, I’ll come straight away. Promise me.”

“I promise.” Liar, liar, liar.

He nodded – stiffly, not at all convinced by you. But also not wanting to push you. Never wanting to push you.

He stepped away, and then turned in the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder. “I love you, you know, Y/N.”

Your eyes shuttered. “I love you too, Cas.” And you did.

But it was much too late for that.

⧪

You gave yourself a total of fifteen minutes to completely lose your shit, to freak out and cry and scream.

And then you pulled the shutters down on your emotions, and you forced yourself into action.

Glorious Fae magic had meant that most things you planned to take to Adriata with you were already stored into the pocket realm, ready to be retrieved when you got there. You planned only to clean yourself up, and to carry a light change of clothes with you that you could don as soon as you got there. Something far more Summer Court friendly.

It was when you were rifling through your drawers, making sure you’d not left anything behind that you wished to take with you, that you heard the thump. And then the balcony doors opened.

Azriel burst in, nothing but a night-kissed breeze. You tried to ignore him, to not even acknowledge his arrival, as you continued moving about the room.

But he knew, immediately, what he was witnessing. His brilliant brain caught on in an instant, as he took in the room, lighter of some of your belongings that had been there before. The sight of you shoving that change of clothes into a small, light bag.

“What are you doing?” His voice was guttural. He stepped further into the room, into your path, when you ignored him. “Y/N?!”

You stepped past him, throwing your earrings – the earrings he had bought you – onto your dresser. “I’m leaving.”

“What? You’re not…you can’t–”

“It’s not up for discussion, Azriel. I’m leaving. Can you move out of my way, please?”

“No.” He moved into your path, his features crumpling. You could have sworn his voice broke. “You’re not going anywhere. We need to talk–”

“There is nothing to talk about, Azriel. Nothing.”

You may as well have stabbed him straight through the heart, from the way he looked at you. From the way he fell so terribly still. His throat worked on a swallow.

“You,” He rasped, yanking you closer by the hand. He cupped your face in his palms, his skin icy cold, “You are my mate.”

You grimaced. Felt that horrible, dreadful thing that snaked its way beneath your skin, through your veins, into your bones. A lethal, deadly thing that was both freezing and scorching, empty and suffocating. It was evil, so ruthless and evil–

It was what allowed you to reach up. To grab Azriel by the wrists and prise his hands from you. You stepped away, willing your face into steel.

“Do not,” You bit harshly – in a voice that didn’t even sound like yours, “touch me.”

Heartbreaking – so heartbreaking, the way his gaze immediately fell to his scarred hands, as if they were the problem, as if they hadn’t been touching you so gloriously not even an hour before. He studied them, a muscle in his jaw moving, and then he lifted his eyes to yours again.

Gods, they were haunted. Breaking. You could see it, and you wanted nothing more than to grab him and stop him from falling apart. But…but you were broken, too. You were so fucking broken, and nobody had stopped you from falling apart.

“I am leaving Velaris.” You croaked. “I’m going to the Summer Court – to Adriata. I’ve already informed Tarquin. I’m leaving.”

“But why? Why would you–”

“Because I can’t stay here, Azriel!” You snapped. “I can’t stay here and act like everything is fine when I’m falling apart and none of you fucking care!”

“I care about you more than anyone.”

“You can’t just decide that now because a fucking bond tells you to!” You were shaking, so, so near to trashing the entire room. You shoved past Azriel, began picking up clothes just to give your hands something to do. “I came back here, because I needed my family. Because I was lonely, and hurting, and I thought I might actually find the love here that I yearned for so badly.”

“I know things haven’t been easy–”

“Things have never been easy for me, Azriel. Ever. And every single one of you knows that, but nobody wants to help! And why? Because I’m not like Elain? Because I’m not delicate and soft and sweet? Because I can deal with it on my own, like I always have?!”

“No–”

“Well I haven’t dealt with it, you know.” You whipped around to face him. “I have never dealt with it. Not the trauma my father left me with, or Tamlin’s father, or you playing with my fucking feelings. Not Rhys being disappointed in me, who I’ve become, even if he doesn’t say it outright. I have never dealt with any of those things. I’ve let them fester, and spread, and now I don’t know where one bad thing ends and another begins. I fucking hate myself, Azriel. I hate myself, and I hate my life, and that is why I need to leave.”

Those broken eyes of his stared at you so thoroughly, so pressingly, it felt like he was undressing you, peeling back every one of your vulnerabilities and leaving you bare, emotionally naked before him. He braced another step towards you.

“Then let me help you.” He whispered. “Please. I know I’ve let you down. I’m so fucking sorry for that. I know I should have been there for you. I know that I was a coward and I should have just faced my feelings instead of mistreating yours. But I want to fix all of that. I want to make this better for you – for us.”

“Why, Az?” You laughed weakly, humourlessly. “Because we’re mates? It’s too late for that.”

“It can’t be. Y/N, I…I can’t lose you again–”

“I’m not yours to lose!”

He flinched – actually flinched, at your sharp words and cutting tone. The Shadowsinger, Spymaster, a figure of pure, unflinching stone, had become nothing more than a breakable object in front of you.

And you were about to break him.

But he’d broken you first.

“I can’t–” You swallowed a sob, furiously wiping your eyes. “I can’t give myself to anyone like this. How can I be someone’s mate when I can’t even live with myself? I can’t!”

“I can help you.” Azriel whispered. “I want to help you. I don’t care about anything else.”

“No, Az. You can’t.” You shook your head. Braved a step closer to him – even though it physically pained you not to reach out and touch him. “It’s something I need to do. It’s something I need you to let me do. I need you to let me go so that I can heal. Because I’m broken…and I cannot even think about accepting this bond while I am.”

You watched him – your mate – as a tear escaped the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek. His shoulders had slumped, and you could feel it – his defeat.

“Az,” You breathed softly. “If…if you care about me…you’ll let me do this. Don’t make it difficult for me. I need to leave. I can’t get better here.”

His eyes shuttered, sending more tears skittering down his cheeks. So badly, you wanted to reach forward and wipe them away. But you didn’t. You stood your ground. Squared your shoulders.

Moments passed in silence. Of Az breathing heavily, slowly, like he was trying to calm himself. He pressed his lips tightly together, and you could see him fighting back a huge onslaught of tears. He wouldn’t let himself break right now – before you.

“Okay.” He eventually rasped. “If it’s what will help you – okay. I won’t stop you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

He cleared his throat – cleared the lump of emotion away. Straightened himself out. “Can I…can I at least winnow you to Adriata? Please?”

You paused, not having expected him to request that. You supposed you expected him to simply relent, and then to take off into the skies where he would scream at the clouds and the roaring winds. Maybe get drunk on his own and return to the House of Wind once everyone was asleep, not there to witness him breaking apart.

But he wanted as much time with you as he could get.

And you…you were okay with that. Leaving again would be hard, even though it was what you needed more than anything – having him by your side, however briefly, would help.

So you nodded, brushing past him and reaching for your bag.

“Yes.” You said. “You can winnow me to Adriata.”

⧪

Even Azriel wasn’t powerful enough to lengthen the process of winnowing – although you sensed he wanted to try.

He didn’t just take hold of your hand, as he normally would for such a venture. He clutched your body to his, his arms snaking around you, his face burying into your hair.

And then Velaris disappeared from around you. The two of you were dragged into that awful, whipping darkness that existed between one place and another. A darkness that was always a few degrees cooler than everywhere else and always, always so jarring.

And then you saw it – a pinprick of light that was rapidly growing. You felt heat fanning your face, and you immediately picked up on the smells of balmy air and salt and sea. Even in the very early hours of the morning, Adriata had a brightness about it that was breathtaking.

You were awed by the sights that you’d turned your back on all those years ago. But Azriel’s body had stiffened against you.

Tarquin’s sandstone palace loomed over you, beautiful and brilliant in all its Summer Court glory. And there, in the huge, arching doorway, the High Lord stood.

He was as breathtaking as you remembered. Cutting a casual, easy figure in pale, flowing clothes, the white of his long hair against the rich brown of his skin, and the pale blue of his eyes, had any potential greetings dying in your throat.

He truly was a vision. A friend.

Azriel sat you down at the steps that led up to the door – but kept an arm around you. Tarquin moved forward, descending the steps with casual grace.

“Welcome back to my home, Lady of the Night.” He greeted you with a bow that he repeated to Azriel. “Shadowsinger – good to see you.”

“Tarquin.” Was all Azriel offered – that, and a stiff nod. He stared up at the palace as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d gone along with this. As if he was considering taking you and winnowing straight back out of there.

You slid out from under his arm, turning to face him with a knot in your stomach.

“I don’t want to go.” He whispered, brushing his fingers over yours.

Tarquin had the good sense to look away and feign interest in a crack in the wall.

“I know.” You murmured back. “But I need this, Az. This – this will be good for me.”

Tarquin cleared his throat. “She’ll be well looked after here. I’ll see to it myself.”

Azriel glanced at him sharply, clearly reading a meaning behind the High Lord’s words that wasn’t there – and he growled. You placed a hand on Az’s chest, forcing his eyes back to yours.

“Please Az.” You pleaded quietly. “Let me go…for now.”

He swallowed hard. “Can I at least write to you?”

“I just...I just need some time. Give me some time, some space, and when I’m ready to talk, I’ll write to you.”

He paused – and then gave a relenting nod. What other choice did he have? The whole point of this was for time, for space.

At least he was trying to understand that.

“If you…” He cleared his throat, “If at any point you want to come home, just send word. I’ll be here right away.”

“I know you will, Az.”

And then he just stood, staring at you, clearly not wanting to take that leap and leave. And it would have been so easy to grab hold of his hand and beg him to stay with you. So, so easy – but not good for you.

“I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” He leaned in. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips over your cheeks and your forehead in such light, gentle kisses. And then he stood back.

And then he was gone. A shadow splintering into nothing before you.

You gritted your teeth. Told yourself not to cry. You felt the warm touch of Tarquin’s hand on your arm.

“Come, friend.” He said gently. “Let’s get you settled in.”

⧪

Az flew and flew until he could fly no more. Until he was exhausted, his wings begging for a break. Until he’d screamed so much, he’d nearly lost his voice, and the wind had dried the streaks of tears on his tanned face.

It felt like it could have been anywhere between hours or days, just circling the skies and forcing himself to feel. To hurt. To recognise the consequences he now had to live with.

You were gone. And there was nothing he could do but let it be. To put you before everything and everyone else.

The sun had risen over Velaris by the time he could no longer keep himself aloft. The Inner Circle would still be at the House of Wind – either soaking up a night of drinking with breakfast, or heading to bed for some much needed rest.

Az could have done the sensible thing and gone for a walk, cooled himself off. He could have kept his mouth shut and wallowed in his pain alone.

But then he was coming to a staggered stop on one of the balconies, and he realised – he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave this alone, even if he wanted to.

A feral anger was growing inside of him. And he needed an outlet.

He kicked his way through the halls of the house. The combination of different voices coming from the sitting room told him that nobody was in bed yet.

He’d have an audience, then.

Fine. That was fine.

The doors to the sitting room were wide open, and they were all in there – Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, Mor and Amren…even Elain was tucked into one of the armchairs, a soft laugh escaping her in response to something Cassian had said.

Az’s boots thudded against the floor, announcing his presence as he approached the room and stepped inside. Everyone looked up.

“Where did you get to?” Mor was the first to speak, sitting up. “Cas said he flew Y/N home because she was tired, but you were gone, too.”

Azriel may as well have not heard her, for all he acknowledged her. No – he stared at Rhys, and Rhys only. Stepped closer.

It took seconds for them all to catch on to something being…wrong. That look in Azriel’s eyes…the fury–

“What’s the matter, Az?” Rhys frowned, an arm casually slung around Feyre’s shoulders. “Why are you–” He paused as Az stopped before him, his nostrils flaring. “You smell…different.”

Az laughed, the sound dark, chilling – void of any humour. “Oh? What do I smell of, Rhys?”

“...Not sure…” The High Lord hummed, rising from the settee. He appraised the spymaster, eyes narrowed. “It’s like–”

“A mating bond, is what it is.” He snapped. “A fucking mating bond. That’s what you can smell.”

The room fell so very, very still. Even the birds outside seemed to stop singing. Seven pairs of eyes blinked at the Shadowsinger. Not one pair of lips moved.

So fucking typical, Azriel thought, that not one of them clocked it immediately. Because they wouldn’t automatically assume you to be his mate. Because they treated you like you were nothing, unworthy.

“My mate,” Az growled, stepping closer to Rhys, “Is gone. Because of you.”

His hands shoved against Rhys’s chest before he could stop himself. Rhys barely budged, but his violet eyes flashed with feral challenge.

“I suggest you calm down, brother,” He said carefully – his High Lord voice, “And tell me what the hell is going on.”

Cassian had stood slowly from his seat, inching subtly towards the two males. He stopped just beside them, ready to jump in.

“Use your fucking brain, Rhysand.” Azriel snapped. “Look around this room, and work out who’s missing, and use your fucking brain.”

Somewhere – somewhere, there was a light, feminine gasp. One of the five females had worked it out. Probably Mor. Maybe Feyre.

“You–” Rhys breathed. “My sister–”

“Is my mate, yes.” Az stepped closer again – shoved Cassian’s arm out of the way. “And she’s gone. Left again. Because of how she was treated here.”

“Take it easy, Az.” Cassian warned quietly. “Hands to yourself.”

It seemed that neither of the other two males heard him. Azriel was huffing breaths now, trembling with utter rage. And Rhys…Rhys blinked–

“What do you mean she left again?” Rhys stepped forward, trying to push past both of them. “Where is she?”

Azriel stepped in front of him, his shoulder knocking into his. “Summer Court. Said she had to go there because she couldn’t be here anymore. She thinks you’re disappointed in her – that you’re ashamed of her. And she totally fucking hates herself, and every single one of us is to blame. But you, Rhys? You more than anybody.”

Soft, delicate fingers brushed Az’s hand. Elain gazed up at him, worry in those brown eyes. “Azriel–”

“Do not touch me, Elain,” He ripped away. “Don’t you dare.”

Cassian was in front of him in a second, gently pushing against his chest. “That’s enough, Az. You’re tired and upset – you need to calm down.”

“I need my mate, Cassian!”

The stark, pained crack in his voice was jarring. So rare, for any of them to see such a raw display of emotion on his face and in the coiled tension of his body.

None of them knew what to do. How to approach him. How to help him.

Cassian squeezed his shoulder gently. “Just…get some sleep, Az. We’ll talk when we’ve all had some sleep.”

Not a bad idea – but how was he supposed to sleep with this gnawing, churning pain ripping him apart? When Rhys was just stood there, blinking into space, absolutely fucking useless.

“She needed us. All of us.” Az said to him through gritted teeth. “But you more than anyone, Rhys. And you neglected her. I don’t blame her for wanting to get away from here. Not one bit.”

Cassian was tugging on him, trying and failing to drag him away. Speaking soothing words into his ear that Az couldn’t even hear over the roaring in his mind.

“Az…” Rhys finally whispered, his own eyes glistening with tears. “I–”

“Hope you’re happy with yourself, brother.” Az cut him off.

There was a collective gasp of shock as the Shadowsinger’s fist went flying into the High Lord’s face.

By no means the first time Az had punched Rhys – it was part and parcel of being Fae, ingrained in them to hash things out with fists until the matter was settled and they were friends once more.

But this punch was different. One of a truly hurt, crumbling, heartbroken male. The force behind it had split Rhys’s lip open.

Before anyone could say or do anything else – try to diffuse the situation or drag Azriel away – he turned and stalked from the room himself. His footsteps pounded up the stairs, down the hall.

Only when he was shut in his bedroom did he truly cry and break for his mate.

Even his shadows didn’t bother him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @theravenphoenix26 @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611 @goldentournesol @percyjacksonspeen @high-bi-andreadytocry @esposadomd @positivewitch @bsenpai @cityofidek @shannonsaid @topaz125 @azzydaddy @nobody00sthings @sfhsgrad-blog @elizarikaallen @hanasakr @ruleroftides @mis-lil-red @reiincarnatiion @moonfawnx @new-adventures-everyday @davinaclaire16 @i-am-fascinated @lucyysthings @margssstuff @magneticforceofaswifty @xxoverthinkerxx @marigold-morelli @owllover123 @vera0124 @thewarriormoon @the-book-gnome @favoritecrime1 @pricklepearbloom @icantthinkofanythingplease @ilovespideyyy @kitty-kait @hwas-housewife @localhopedealerr @magical-mischief-makers @holywolfsstuff @grungy-blue-hipster

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murdrdocs · 1 year

Note

ethan running around with chad and mindy’s sibling who is about a year younger than them. secret relationship ofc cause i feel like chad would lose his shit having his roommate mess around with his ‘baby’ sibling (said baby sibling is 18)😭😭

this is so me aka im the 'baby sister' at 18 ...

the thing is, you and ethan aren't hiding it well at all. there's been slip ups, like the times when you've said you couldn't catch a movie with mindy and chad because you'd already seen it. they're a little baffled, not just because you'd betrayed them but also because they're confused on who would've gone to see puss and boots with you, especially when tara refused to even consider seeing it. and then ethan's talking about how much he liked it and the dots are right there, but mindy doesn't listen to things ethan says and chad's just upset that his roommate and his younger sibling both betrayed him.

you're sneaking around in each other's apartments, leaving just before your roommates come back and having to pretend like you didn't just abruptly end a makeout session that you'd hoped could've went to other places.

there comes a point where both of you are tired of sneaking around, and you propose to be more conspicuous about your relationship.

"if they aren't mad about it now, i don't think they ever will be," comes ethan's reasoning, and it's solid enough for you.

too bad it's wrong.

chad finds out because you left a shirt at their place.

you'd texted your family groupchat about it late one night, clearly distressed as you realized you hadn't seen your favorite shirt in weeks. he tells you he hasn't seen it, mindy tells you the same, and you've concluded that you've lost it.

ethan claims he saw you wear it not long ago, but that's not enough information.

you're sitting in the small lounge area in chad and ethan's dorm whenever chad comes out of his room, holding the shirt you'd almost shed a few tears about just a few nights ago.

"yo! this is the shirt you were looking for, right?" and it is. it's held in your brothers hands, a little wrinkled, but the design still stands out. your face lights up, you beam as you catch it when chad throws it across the room. "found it in ethan's laundry," comes his explanation and your face blanches.

ethan's sitting on the chair a few feet away from you and his eyes lift from his phone to look at you, catching your gaze briefly before deciding the floor was more interesting.

"oh ... thanks," is all you say as you watch chad turn around and head back towards his room. he's a few steps away from the door when he pauses, stops completely, and slowly turns around.

"wait a goddamn minute."

which incites a small argument where chad scolds ethan for getting with his "baby sibling", consistently calling you a "kid" even though you're more responsible than him, and you're just 11 months younger than your twin siblings.

#imagine being irish twins with twins #that'd be kinda dope #ethan landry x reader #ethansworld!#ethan landry fluff #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #celeste writes scream

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wol-fica · 1 year

Text

-ℝ𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖-

summary - Jenna heads home in a rainstorm to be greeted with food and you ofc :3

warnings - fluff :)

an - old draft, decided to post it

—————

Rain Sucked

Really, It soaked into Jenna’s clothes, making the thick material cling to her skin. Which did nothing to stop the chill from leaking into her bones. Her hair, ever the mess, was plastered against her forehead, getting in her brown eyes, letting rainwater drip down her face, and all together making life a lot more difficult than it needed to be. She pushed her bangs out of the way for the umpteenth time and sighed.

At least filming was over with, finally.

It was a boring day, with camera work being ever so existent. Jenna knew she should be grateful for the slow day; filming meant the movie would be done and out faster, but being out in weather like this was absolutely dreadful.

She thought briefly about stopping back at her trailer to change, she really did. The thought of warm, dry clothes was so utterly enticing, but then Jenna realized she’d have to trudge back through the torrential downpour, just to get home, thus retroactively negating getting dry in the first place. So here she was, still decked out in her filming outfit, soaked through to the bone and shivering, dragging her feet back to her apartment.

She sighed, just another block to go.

There weren’t many people out. Only a handful dared to brave the storm, huddled under their umbrellas and walking at a brisk pace, barely sparing Jenna a passing glance. Which was probably a good thing. She wasn’t sure if anyone really wanted to see the current top rising actress looking akin to a drowned rat.

She dashed across the street, boots sloshing through yet another puddle. Crap.

Jenna shivered, wincing as she felt more chilled rainwater slosh into already waterlogged her shoes. There was no escaping the many puddles that littered the streets and alleyways, and Jenna had honestly given up hours ago. That didn’t mean she liked getting water in her boots, however. It was cold, and wet, and she was starting to lose sensation in her toes.

She just bent her head and powered onward, thoughts of a warm shower, dry clothes, and a much needed nap filling her mind. Just a little farther, and she could get out of these wet clothes.

And get warm.

And get out of this awful rain.

When her complex finally appears around the corner Jenna felt like she could cry with relief. She didn’t, of course; crying would take too much energy. Energy she did not have, thanks to the dreary and dreadful day. She fumbled for her wallet, hidden in one of the many pouches on her coat, and pulled out her keycard.

Or, tried to.

Her cumbersome gloves paired with her numb fingers made things rather difficult. Which left Jenna standing outside her apartment building, fighting with her wallet for a good five minutes before she finally managed to free her keycard and swipe herself inside.

Stupid security measures, but she understands it; safety was vital, especially given how many celebrities lived in this complex. But dammit, she just wanted a warm shower. Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently it was- Jenna got stopped by the doorman, who insisted upon asking her about her day, which while quite polite, left her shivering miserably and dripping all over the white tile floors.

Then, she missed the elevator and had to wait for it to travel six floors up- and yes, she counted- before coming back down. And of course, just as she was getting on, another five people dashed up, hollering for her to hold the elevator. Jenna did, of course; she was raised to be polite, after all. But she was gritting her teeth the whole time, shivering and trying to not look as pathetic as she felt.

Of course, because life apparently hated her at this moment, each person needed a different floor. Because of course they did. So she had to wait as the elevator stopped five different times, on five different floors, before she could get to hers. Why she ever agreed to stay with her girlfriend in a ten story building downtown, Jenna didn’t know. She was certainly regretting such decisions, now.

The elevator finally pinged for her floor, and Jenna stumbled out, heaving a sigh.

Ugh, only a few more steps.

She was dragging her feet by the time she reached the appropriate apartment door. Unable to even lift her boots, the staccato squelches came accompanied by the squeaks of wet sneakers on linoleum. She fumbled with her keys, her numb fingers made things difficult, and curses crowded her tongue.

Fuck it.

She resorted to yanking her gloves off with her teeth and letting them flop onto the doormat. It helped; Jenna was able to get the right key into the doorknob at last.

One twist and the door sprung open. She fumbled her way inside, kicking at her gloves to get them across the doorway. She’d pick them up, but she was so tired. She was afraid that if she bent over now, she’d fall over and wouldn’t be able to get back up.

The floor would be too comfortable, and her limbs too leaden. Once Inside, Jenna was met with warmth and the savory smells of dinner. She somehow managed to shoulder the door closed behind her, and began the ever difficult process of untying and kicking off her boots. The strings were soggy and waterlogged, making her grimace.

Her fingers, now tingly, still felt cumbersome as she tugged at the knotted string. Jenna leaned heavily against the wall for balance as she muscled her shoes off, a sigh breezing past her lips as she freed her feet from their cumbersome and damp confines.

She picked up the boots and placed them on the mat with the rest of the neatly organized shoes. The socks came off next; Jenna ripped them off, grimacing at the way they dripped.

Distantly, Jenna registered the sounds of rustling and movement from within the apartment, but her mind was singularly focused. She trudged past the living space and kitchen, staggering her way to the bedroom. There was a pause, and the clank of dishes echoed through the space.

“Jenna?” A voice called.

She managed a hand wave as she crossed the threshold, hands already fumbling to remove her rain drenched outfit.

A shiver wracked her body as she peeled away the soggy fabric. She stripped down to her underwear and bra, dumping the wet costume in the hamper with a sigh. Jenna ran a hand through her damp hair. Should she shower now, or…?

Warm hands caressed her shoulders, skidding down to her waist. Jenna hummed and leaned into your touch, the warmth and care chased the chill away, and she melted as you pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck.

“Hey,” You murmured.

She smiled.

“Hey.”

“How was filming?” You asked, scratching Jenna’s scalp with her nails.

She shrugged. “Boring, mostly. The weather was awful, though.”

You hummed, the vibrations tickling her skin from where you pressed against her .

“I hate walking in the rain,” You murmured. “I always end up drenched.”

That was the understatement of the century, and Jenna couldn’t help the snort. She felt Your smile curve into the back of her neck, and she sighed.

“Go take a hot shower,” You said. “I’ll finish dinner, and then we can cuddle. Okay?”

Jenna twisted in your grasp so that she was facing you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay,” She said, voice soft.

It was moments like these, quiet, behind closed doors, that she liked the most. After it was all said and done, you both took care of each other.

Rain sucked, but having a warm place to come to made it all better.

————-

#jenna #ortega #jenna ortega x r #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part twelve

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel finally gets his head out of his ass, with a little push from tess.

a/n: we have BIG CONVERSATIONS IN THIS HOUSE FAM. i want to reiterate: i love the canon joel x tess. i live for it. but the drama/angst/emotion it has allowed me to create but backpedaling them SLIGHTLY? delish. enjoy babes, please scream at me about the ending 😇

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, drinking, lots of emotions, mentions of canon-typical violence and injuries, mentions of death, joel is both an asshole and an Emotional Man, tess and liv are true bffs and god bless last night’s episode for solidifying some of my plans 🤍

✨I do not have a taglist - follow @friskito-library for updates on future chapters/works✨

“You need to talk to her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, Joel, you—”

“Don’t tell me what I need to fuckin’ do, Tess. Leave it be.”

“Joel—”

“Please.”

You’ve been staying at Deanna’s. Two weeks now, since your stint in lockup, since Angie had beat the literal shit out of you. The couch isn’t comfy, and your ribs are still sore, but it’s fine.

The kids are happy to have you around. Emily especially, once she got past the bruises on your face. You weren’t expecting Henry’s reaction; when you woke up in Deanna’s apartment the next morning, he was sitting vigil beside you, tears on his face, bottom lip jutting out. You told him you fell down the stairs, trying to get a laugh out of him, and he’d just hugged you, buried his face in your chest.

You try to keep things normal, whatever the fuck that means anymore. You take on extra jobs, trying to earn more ration cards for the three living in your apartment. Tess shadows you, follows you around every day, and you tell her your secrets, point out your routes, the soldiers you have dirt on, the ones you know not to fuck with.

“She’s the one that beat you?” she asks one day, jutting her chin towards Angie. You’re standing in the warehouse that serves as the food bank, waiting in line. You’ve had a heartbeat in the bruise on your cheek since you woke up, and standing ten feet from the woman who gave it to you isn’t exactly helping.

You disguise your nod as a stretch, wincing at the pull on your ribs. Deanna was sure you hadn’t broken any, but you sure as hell were bruised. They didn’t look as bad as your cheek, but the pain was deeper, and seemed intent to linger longer. “Yeah, that’s her.”

Tess sneers in her direction, and you have to stifle your laugh. “Fucking bitch.”

You like Tess. You really like her. She’s a hard ass, but rightfully so, given the history. She hasn’t given you much more of her past, and you’re definitely not about to offer up any of yours, but the friendship between you is quick. You’ve skirted the Joel subject so far, despite the fact that they’re literally sleeping in your bed. Most of your conversations have been about the QZ, the inner workings, your smuggling. You have a job coming up, and Tess has already said she’s coming with you.

“I doubt Joel will be thrilled about that.”

“Joel can fucking shove it.”

She hasn’t been shy about her displeasure towards him, but it hasn’t done much to change things between you. You went down to grab some clothes a few days back, and he’d been the only one inside. Tess was out exploring, and Tommy had gone with her.

He didn’t say a goddamned word.

You’d managed to hold back the tears until you were back in the hallway, but you sobbed so hard you thought you actually were going to crack a rib. And on the other side of the door, you heard the radio flick on, assumedly to drown out your noise.

You nearly put your boot through the wall.

You move up a few places in line, and reach into your pocket, pulling out the ration cards you’ve collected. It’s worked out okay; you had some stashed to begin with and you were able to pull a few jobs after you got back on your feet. But Tess is adamant they’ll pay you back, despite your protests.

“First job I take,” she says to you, jutting her chin towards the stack in your hand, “you get half.”

You shake your head. “I told you, it’s fine.“

“It’s not,” she replies, her tone determined. “It’s the least we can do, after what you did for us. Hell, I should give you back double for putting up with the bullshit Joel’s been throwing at you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she repeats, and grabs your arm, turning you towards her slightly. “I’m not fucking okay with this. I need you to get that. He needs to talk to you. You need to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Tess,” you say, toying with a corner of a ration card. “I have to respect that.”

“And he should give you the same courtesy,” she says as you move up again. “You need to talk this out. He can’t keep putting up brick fucking walls; you deserve more respect than that. You put your ass on the line for us, and got the shit kicked out of you. History or not, he owes you. I’ll lock you two in the same room if I have to.”

“Hah,” you scoff, lifting your brows. “I’m sure he’d love that.”

She goes quiet as you reach the front of the line, handing over the cards. The woman working the table slides a crate of food across to you a second later, along with two jugs of water that Tess reaches for. It’s not until you’re back outside that she speaks again.

“I want us to be friends,” she says, and the tone in her voice makes you pause, stopping in your tracks. “I like you, Liv; you’re strong as hell. Brave. Best damn smuggler I’ve ever seen. I just…I need you to understand, me and Joel, it’s nothing close to what I had with Nate, or what he had with you. I know that. I get that. We laid out ground rules from square one. It’s a…” She trails off, searching for the right word.

“A comfort,” you provide.

She nods. “Yes. And I…if I had a second chance with Nate? If I walked down this street tomorrow and saw him walking through that fucking gate, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to—” She stops, clamps her hand over her mouth and you almost jump when you see the tears in her eyes.

“Tess.” She blinks hard, waving a hand at you, and in an instant, the badass demeanour has returned, if not doubly so. You continue, “If he’s a comfort to you, I can’t be the person that takes that away. He’s not mine to take. Especially not if he doesn’t want me back. It’s okay. You can’t force his hand in this.”

She eyes you, chewing at her thumbnail before, “Maybe I can.”

You shake your head, hefting the crate of food higher on your hip. “Let’s take this back.”

The doorknob jiggles, and Joel’s head snaps up. He’s sat on your couch, some book about woodworking in his hands, a mostly abandoned glass of whiskey on the table in front of him. Tommy’s at the kitchen table, bent over a map, trying to figure out the path they’d taken, all the way back to Austin. “I’m just curious,” he’d said when Joel had asked, his voice almost clipped. Joel hadn’t pushed any further.

The door swings open, revealing you and Tess, a crate of food on your hip, Tess carrying jugs of water. Joel gets to his feet, wanders towards the kitchen, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Tommy gets up immediately, takes one of the jugs from Tess. She starts putting stuff away, and you step closer to the table, digging in the pocket of your coat. “Exciting news,” you say, pulling out a key ring with three keys on it, dropping it onto the table. “Moving day.”

“We’re not going far, are we?” Tess asks over her shoulder.

“No,” you reply, pushing a hand through your hair before shucking off your coat. “One floor up, few units down. Besides, you know where to find me.” Joel catches you glance his way, but it’s short-lived, you turning away a moment later to help Tess put the rest of the food away. “I saw they have a posting for a handyman in the building, one for the apartment across the street too,” you say, putting away a box of instant mashed potatoes. “Unit maintenance and stuff like that, thought you boys might be good for it.”

Tommy nods, enthusiastic. “Sounds good to me.” He glances at Joel over his shoulder. “Gotta get started paying you back what we owe you, Liv.”

You wave a hand, and Joel sees Tess give you a pointed look. “Listen, all of you. We’re square, okay? I mean it. I’m just…I’m glad you’re all here. Safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

Joel can’t hold his tongue. “That soldier beat you half to death.”

“Oh, you noticed?” you throw back, and the guilt simmers in his gut. “We’re square,” you repeat, leaning against the kitchen counter, hip cocked, arms crossed over your chest. A mirror of Joel’s stance. “But there’s something I wanted to bring up to the three of you. Tess and I have already talked it over, and I’ve done okay for myself given the circumstance, but I could use you, all three of you.” Your eyes flick from Tommy to Joel and back again, so quick he nearly misses it. “It’s a risk, I won’t lie, but I’ve got dirt on half the soldiers in this QZ. And I know exactly what to give them to keep their mouths shut.”

“You already know I’m in,” Tess says, bumping her hip into yours. There’s a tiny grin on your face, the bruising along your cheek pinching slightly. “There are still connections from Baltimore we can use. Between the four of us, we could be living like kings, for a change.”

You nod. “Either way, it’s an offer. I trust you all enough that you’ll keep it secret, but if you want in, my door’s always open.” You pause. “But I do want my keys back.”

“I’m game,” Tommy says, leaning back in his chair. “You tell me where and when, Liv, and I’m there.”

“Same,” Tess agrees, “but we’re still paying you back.”

Joel can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you out of your damn minds? Both of you?” He stares at Tommy when his brother turns to face him, glances at Tess when she steps forward and plants her hands on the kitchen table. “We just got safe again, and already you want to put that in jeopardy?”

Tess scoffs, and the sound makes Joel blood boil. There’s too much happening. The guilt never leaves, but seeing you, hearing your voice, it makes it that much worse, and Tess looking at him like he’s a fucking idiot doesn’t help matters.

“We pulled a lot of bad shit to stay alive out there, Joel,” she says, her tone stern. “Baltimore was no different. I highly doubt a bit of smuggling is going to fuck with our reputations.”

“Your records are clean,” you offer, your voice placating. It makes the hair on the back of Joel’s neck stand on end. “When Cowan brought you through, he wiped them. Tommy’s is already clean, otherwise they wouldn’t have let him through to start with.” You lift your hands. “It’s just an offer, Joel.”

How have you managed to make his own name feel like a punch to the gut?

“I’ll show you to the apartment,” you say, grabbing the keys off the table, putting a hand on Tess’s shoulder. “You guys can talk it out. There’s no pressure. I’ve got a job in a few days, and—”

“I already told you, I’m going with you,” Tess says, and Joel’s brows raise.

“Tess—”

“Shut up, Joel.” She turns towards the door. “Let’s go.”

You swallow, hard enough that Joel can see your throat bob from where he’s standing. Tess grabs her jacket, gestures at Tommy to do the same, and his brother gets to his feet. You hold open the door, and Joel follows Tess and Tommy out. He tries to catch your eye as he walks past you, but your gaze drops to the floor.

Their unit is one floor up, three down from yours. You unlock the door before handing the keys to Tess, let it swing inwards. It looks about the same as yours, save for the floral wallpaper. It’s a bit bigger, an actual separate bedroom, another bed tucked in one corner, a room divider that’s seen better days blocking it off. He’s surprised, almost, that there’s furniture, even blankets on the beds, and follows his brother inside. Tess wanders, and you hang in the doorway, leaned against the jamb.

“I found some stuff at the donation warehouse,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “People will leave all kinds of shit down there, stuff they don’t need. The mattresses aren’t great, but I cleaned them best I could, and there’s some clothes too.” Joel turns to look at you, and your eyes move away from his again. “And, if you’re game for smuggling, when knows what else we might find.”

Tommy walks back over to where you’re stood, slings an arm around your neck, pulling you against him. “You’re an angel, Liv. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, leaning your head against Tommy’s chest, and Joel ignores the zip of…is that jealousy surging through his gut? Fuck.

But it turns into guilt just as quick, makes something mean bubble out of his mouth before he can stop it. “You shouldn’t have done this.” He doesn’t look at you, not directly, but from the corner of his eye, sees you balk, flinching slightly.

“Joel,” Tess chides, walking over to the door, pulling you out of Tommy’s grip and into a hug. “We owe you, I mean it.”

Joel watches, as you hug Tess. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hooked around her shoulders, your brow pinched slightly. God, how many times had this thought crossed his mind? How many times had he wondered if the two of you would get along?

How many times had he dreamt of merely seeing you again?

Yet here he is, fucking it up harder than anyone ever could have imagined.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, jutting a thumb over your shoulder. “Tess, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She nods. “And Tommy, you can ask Sergeant McCoy about the handyman gig. He’s a decent guy.”

Then your eyes turn to Joel. He meets them, looks back at you, feels the guilt so thickly he’s convinced it’s replacing his blood. He thinks he hears you say his name, but then your wrench your eyes from his, disappearing from the doorway. His feet move of their own accord, propelling him towards the door, but he stops short, hands swinging at his sides.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder. “Brother, I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot.” He turns to Tess. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

Tess just nods, and the door shuts a moment later. It’s just the two of them, and Joel can already tells he’s about to be on the receiving end of Tess’s anger.

“Sit, Miller.” She points to the kitchen table. It’s not much different than yours, though there are no maps spread across the surface. “You can’t keep doing this shit.”

“Tess, don’t—”

“No, shut the fuck up,” she cuts him off, her hand flexing in the air. “You’re gonna sit there and you’re gonna listen, you understand? Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Joel swallows hard. “Fine.”

“You need to go after Liv,” she says, the words blunt, laying her hand flat on the table. “You can’t keep pushing her away and treating her the way that you are. You can’t keep doing this to her.”

“I have to,” he replies, the words quick, half-hearted. An excuse.

“No, you don’t,” Tess throws back, just as quick.

“You—”

“We’re done,” she says, cutting him off again. “You and I. It was just stress relief, right from the beginning. I know that, you know that. Nate was gone and you were there and I…” She shakes her head, lifts her hand to her mouth and bites her knuckle before continuing. “If I had a second chance like this, a second shot, goddamn, I would have dropped you so fast your head would’ve spun.” She actually laughs. Her eyes are big and wet, but no tears fall. “She loves you, Joel, and you love her. I knew it from the second you saw her at the gas station. It’s not—”

“Tess—”

“Listen to me, Joel. If I turned a corner tomorrow and saw Nate right there in front of me, there’s not a force on this whole fucking planet that could keep me from him. So why are you doing this to her? To yourself?”

He goes quiet, for a long moment. Stares down at the table top, digs his nail into the grain of the wood. “You said it yourself, Tess. We did a lot of bad shit out there to stay alive. I’m not…” He shakes his head. “I’m not who she remembers, who she loved before.”

Tess reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezes his fingers tightly. “Joel, the fucking world ended. I didn’t know her before, but I highly doubt that the Liv I know now was the same before the outbreak. We do what we have to, to survive. She put her life on the line for us, without batting a fucking eye. The least you can do is talk to her.”

“I can’t—”

“You can. What do I have to say to get it though your thick fucking skull, Miller? Second chances like this don’t just happen. If I had one, I sure as hell wouldn’t squander it the way you’re so hellbent on doing. So don’t.”

“Tess—”

“Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Slowly, Joel gets to his feet, and Tess follows suit. He’s not quite sure what to do next, but then she grabs the front of his jacket, hauls him against her, throws her arms around his neck. He hugs her back, mouth pressed to the curve of her shoulder.

“And I don’t wanna hear any more shit about not joining forces with Liv,” Tess says softly. “We’d be fucking fools not to.” She claps him on the shoulder, pulling away. “I’ll see you around, Joel.”

“Bye, Tess.”

The doorknob is cold when he reaches for it, and Tess doesn’t say another word as he steps out into the hall, pulls the door shut. His feet seem to carry him down the hall on their own. He heads down the stairs, faintly hears Tommy’s voice calling after him as he heads down towards the lobby.

“Joel, where you going?”

It’s still a few hours until curfew, the sky still light, though dark clouds are gathering over the city. The moment he’s out the main door, he’s sprinting, running as fast as his legs will carry him. He’s pushing past people on the street, boots scuffing on the pavement, mumbling apologies when he almost crashes into someone.

He just keeps going, arms pumping once he’s through the crowds of people trying to get home. He has no idea where he’s going, but he just keeps going, on and on and on until he finds himself standing in the same alleyway you’d lead him and Tess through, when you’d smuggled them inside.

What the fuck is he doing?

The rain starts slow, a few drips pelting his shoulders, the back of his neck. He tips his head back, stares up at the ominous dark clouds, hears the rumble of thunder in the distance. Joel lets his eyes slip closed, hands loose at his sides.

In a flash, it’s a downpour. He’s soaked in a matter of seconds, rainwater seeping through his hair, wetting his scalp. It runs down his cheeks, sneaks beneath the collar of his flannel, gathers in the hollow of his throat.

She loves you, Joel, and you love her.

Tess is right. He knows she’s right. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, he always knew in the back of his mind that if he found you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself away from you. Everything he’s been doing, everything he’s said since you mentioned Sarah, it’s been…survival. Fear, that if he lets himself have you again, he’ll just lose you, like he lost her. That someone or something will take you from him.

Tommy told me. About Sarah. Joel, I’m so sorry, I just—

It hurts. The memory makes panic and fear surge through him, every single time. Makes his heart beat faster, his hands clench into fists, sweat at his hairline. But you don’t know that. How could you? He hasn’t told you, hasn’t let you in, hasn’t done anything but try and stay as far away from you as possible.

He can’t keep doing this. He knows that. When he closes his eyes, he still sees those tears on your face, at the gas station. The bat in your hand, the bravery in your eyes. You weren’t the same person he’d fallen in love with back in Austin. But you’ve survived just as hard as he has, and you lived. You’re alive.

I’ll find you, baby.

He swore to you.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Joel says the words aloud, towards the sky, to the dark clouds still pouring down on him. “Fuck.”

He turns on his heel and sprints back up the alley. The rain isn’t letting it up, pelting his face, soaking his hair further. He pushes his way back through the crowds, takes the same random path he’d just run in reverse, back to the building.

Back to you.

He takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the way his knees are shouting in protest. He’s out of breath by the time he skids to a stop in front of your door, bangs his fist on the wood. “Liv!”

“It’s open,” he hears you call from the other side, and twists the handle, pushes the door open. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing at your forehead, a bottle of whiskey not far from reach. Your gaze lifts slowly, but then your entire expression changes when you see him standing there in the doorway. “Joel? What’re you do—”

“I wanna talk to you,” he says, the words coming out in a rush. His heart is hammering in his chest. He steps through the doorway, shuts it behind him. “Please.”

“Why are you wet?” you ask, your eyes narrowing, but then you shake your head, waving your hands. “Doesn’t matter. What…you wanna talk?”

“I do.”

“About what?”

He heaves a breath. “You. Me. Tess, she—”

You lift a hand, your expression turning defeated, and reach for the whiskey. “It’s fine, Joel. I get it. It’s not like I expected you to wait around for me or anything like that, but just for the record, it’s not reason enough to avoid me like the fucking plague.” You take a swig from the bottle, tearing your eyes from his.

“I’m sorry,” he says instantly, and takes a step towards the table. You lower the bottle, slide your gaze back to his. “About all of it, Liv. Please. I just wanna talk you.”

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, shakes the water from his fingers. You don’t say anything when he shrugs out of his jacket, hangs it on the hook near the door, settles into the seat across from you. He points towards the whiskey, and you slide it across the table to him. The liquor burns on the way down, but the warmth that follows helps with the chill from the rain.

You lean back slightly in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, staring him down. “You wanna talk, Miller,” you say, and part of him wonders how much you’ve had to drink already. “Then talk.”

He takes another long swig of the whiskey. The noise the bottle makes as he puts it back down seems to echo through the apartment. “I’ve been an asshole,” he says, his gaze dropping to his lap, “since the gas station. I’ve been trying my goddamn best to push you away, and I just…” He lifts his head, lets one hand rest on the table, an olive branch between you. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“Liv, I just…I did some terrible shit out there, to stay alive. I’m not the same. But I know you aren’t either.”

“We all do terrible shit to stay alive, Joel.” You huff a little laugh. “It’s just the way of the world now.” You drag a hand over your face. “Besides, you are the only thing I have left,” you say, and Joel’s heart jumps into his throat, “from before.” You blink hard, and he can see the tears gathering along your lashes. Everything in him wants to vault the table separating you and just hold you. “I was gonna leave Boston. Before they put up the wall, when all that was standing in my way was a fucking chain link fence. I was gonna leave. Then Cowan calls the Austin QZ, asks about my family, and there’s no record of my sister, no record of you, but my parents…”

You trail off, shaking your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You wipe at your cheeks, and lay your hand on the table, inches from his. Joel’s fingers twitch.

“What happened?”

“FEDRA levelled Austin, when it was overrun. My parents were in a shelter, when they dropped the bombs, and no one survived.”

Joel balks. He remembers, that night, the outbreak. He remembers Tommy’s truck barrelling down the road, down the main drag where the hardware store was. He remembers flames pouring out of the storefront, shattered glass and the way the awning had caught fire. He remembers praying to whoever the fuck was even bothering to listen anymore that your family was okay.

“So you stayed.”

You nod, fingers tapping on the table. “I stayed. I got lucky, really. Dean got me good, before I…” You trail off, rubbing at your shoulder. “They were killing anyone who was injured, shooting them point blank in the streets. I just ran, and nearly a week later, when the soldiers stopped me at the fence, I was still me, and Cowan made sure no one saw my injuries, had Deanna treat me. Left a nasty fucking scar.” You squeeze your shoulder, pulling your eyes from Joel’s. “I never stopped wanting to go looking for you, Joel. Not once. I just—”

He shakes his head, flexes his fingers on the tabletop. “It doesn’t matter, Liv. You did what you had to, to stay alive. We all did.” He swallows hard. “When did it happen? With Dean.”

You grab the bottle, turning fully to face him, your other hand still planted inches from his. “Outbreak day. It’s funny, actually, I had just been on the phone, with you, you remember?”

Joel lets himself smile, the conversation rising to the surface of his mind. “We wished each other happy birthday.”

“We did,” you agree, and take a swig. “I just got home, and Dean was…he was just standing there, in the bedroom, staring out the window. He didn’t notice me, not at first.” You shake your head, letting go of the bottle, rubbing your fingers across your forehead. “I shouldn’t have done it, looking back, but I didn’t know, and I…I called his name. He turned, and he looked at me with that…that dead look they have, you know? And then…then he started running at me, and I knew something was wrong. I kept the bat right by the bedroom door, and when he came at me, I just…swung. Until he stopped.”

You grab the bottle again, and Joel flexes his pinky wide, until it grazes yours. Your eyes drop to the table. “You protected yourself, baby.”

It’s like everything in the apartment shifts, as the endearment rolls off his tongue. He doesn’t mean to say it so soon, but everything in him is aching to comfort you, the feeling tenfold after being stuffed down for so long. Why did he put you through this? Why did he put himself through this?

Your eyes are watery when they lift to his again. “I never should have left Austin, Joel,” you say, and slide your hand across the table, settling it on top of his, your palms pressed together. “I never should have left you.”

“I’m here now,” he says, letting his fingers curl around your wrist. His heart races when you do the same. “It doesn’t matter. None of it.”

Your thumb slides across his pulse, and your eyes flutter shut for a moment before they meet his again. There’s fire in your eyes, one he hasn’t seen in a long, long time. “What are we doing here, Joel?”

His brow pinches. “What d’you mean?”

“This is the ultimate second chance,” you say, and he can’t help his chuckle, “and we are royally fucking it up.” He keeps laughing, and you dig your nails into his skin, making him yelp. “It’s not funny, Joel!”

“I know, I know,” he says, his tone going apologetic. “It’s just…you and Tess get on well, don’t you?”

You scoff a little laugh, nodding. “She’s a badass.”

He juts his chin towards you. “So are you.”

“I get it,” you say, pulling your eyes away. Your hand stays where it is. “The two of you, it makes sense. I…I was with Cowan.” You make a face. “Am with Cowan? I don’t know. It’s just…comfort, I guess, but now, it…”

Joel can’t help but bristle slightly. “He’s helped you all these years?”

You nod slowly. “Hasn’t ratted me out, got me out of some pretty deep shit once or twice. But he’s not…” You nail him to the spot with your stare, leaning forward slightly, sliding your hand up his arm until it’s wrapped around his forearm, resting in the crook of his elbow. “He doesn’t come close, Joel. Dean, Cowan, they’re just…” You shake your head. “They’re nothing, compared to you. I could never love anyone else the way I loved you.” You pause, chew your lip. “Love you.”

“Liv—”

“But I won’t get between you and Tess, I promise. I like her, and you and me, it doesn’t—”

“Tess broke things off,” he says, and your eyes go wide. “She was right. I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing, pushing you away, thinking it was easier that way. I don’t want to stay away from you anymore. I can’t stay away from you.”

“So don’t.”

“You just said you and Cowan—”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. None of it matters.”

Joel’s brain stalls, for a moment, seeing the flare in your eyes. He gets up slowly. Your hands move to your lap as he rounds the table, pulls you to your feet. There’s only inches between you, the air turning thick with tension. “Say it again,” he says, his voice hushed, almost a whisper.

You close the distance, stepping into his arms. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, resting on your jean-clad hips, and Joel inhales deeply when your palms slide up his biceps, rest on his shoulders, one hand slipping up the back of his hair, wet curls twisted between your knuckles.

“Don’t stay away from me,” you murmur, tugging lightly at his hair, until his face is angled with yours. He can smell the whiskey on your breath, see the remains of the bruise on your cheek. He can feel your heartbeat, wild against his own, your chest against his. “Be with me, Joel, please.”

Your voice cracks on the please, and that’s what gets him. The tension snaps, and he can’t hold back anymore.

There’s no hesitancy in it. It feels like he’s kissing you for the very first time all over again — feels like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. The press of your mouth is hot and wet, a tiny mewl falling from your lips to his as you hold him to you, your fingers tightening in his hair. He kisses your bottom lip, then the top, sinking his teeth into your flesh, pulling more tiny noises from you. God, he’s fucking missed you, so goddamned much.

You chase him when he pulls away, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth, giving you a hungrier kiss the second time round. He pushes you backwards, your boots tangling with his and suddenly you’re a heap of limbs on the ground. You actually laugh and Joel kisses the sound right out of your mouth, licking his tongue along the seam of your lips.

The motion makes you whimper, adjusting yourself beneath him until your thighs are spread either side of his hips, your boots planted on the ground. Everything in him feels white-hot, and he can’t stop kissing you, making up for lost time, pouring his apologies into his kisses, memorizing the way you feel and taste now.

“Joel,” you gasp out when he slides his hand along your jaw, tilts your head back on the wood floor, noses his way down your throat.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your skin, inhaling you deeply, kissing at your pulse.

“Take me to bed.”

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