#el reunited with her parents | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tieronecrush · 10 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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everythingne · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ el matador y la matadora - welcome, señora sainz (cs55)

(series masterlist) (next)

Valeria accepts the call from the Wolff's, joining Mercedes for the foreseeable future. She reunites with friends, sets some records, and finds a wandering eye or two.

warnings/notes: mentions of car accidents and injury (non-graphic, possible spine injury mentioned.) slightly uncomfortable energy, valeria being a pushover/ignoring red flags, thats rlly it <3 hope y'all like this one shes gonna be fun

fc: adria arjona // sister!sainz + hamilton, piastri, sargeant / reader

One thing Valeria Sainz did not expect when she signed as a Mercedes reserve driver, was to walk into the Mercedes Australia garage for a meeting with Susie and Toto at fucking one in the morning.

One in the morning?

Valeria and her parents had just gotten into Australia. Dead from the long flight during the practice days and in dire need of rest. Despite needing to check into the hotel and get some actual sleep, Toto continuously pressed that this matter had to be discussed 'in person, immediately.' So, Valeria sent a suitcase with her father and kept her carry on with her as she called for a rideshare.

At 12:56am, Valeria arrived to the Australian GP's circuit with a Monster Energy tucked under one arm. Fighting back several yawns as she fishes out her lanyard and scans into the gate. Rubbing sleep from her eyes and sleepily stumbling her way down the pavement to where she knows she's supposed to be. Luckily, it doesn't take long for her to find her boss, plus Susie, both looking equally as frazzled as they stand on opposite sides of the only light source pouring out of the Mercedes garage.

Valeria chugs the rest of her Monster, tosses the can, and approaches with a tiny huff.

"You both look miserable." She chimes once she's within earshot, causing Susie to jump out of her skin--which in turn makes Toto chuckle.

"Sorry, it's been a long night." Toto runs one hand through his hair, shirt partially undone and sleeves rolled up as normal. Susie's in fucking pajamas. An old Mercedes shirt that's definitely Toto's over some leggings, and if Valeria looks hard enough she thinks she can see Jack napping on a couch with headphones on.

"Yeah, I can see... uh, why was I... needed? So early?" Valeria looks over at the engineers finishing packing up what's left of George's car. It had been completely knocked out last lap of practice, left laying on its side until Stroll whipped around the corner a bit too quickly and clipped the side, sending himself and Mr. Saturday into a nearby wall.

Double knockout. Drugovich on standby for Lance. No one yet on standby for George.

"Come, sit." Susie waves her over to where she crosses the room to snag her husband's desk as a chair while he falls into his office chair. Jack stirs, sitting up to see Valeria and he smiles and mumbles a mix of sleepy German and English to his past babysitter. She wastes no time scooping up the Wolff child and settling him in her arms like she had when he was still tiny, and she was a teenager. Carefully, Varelia sits across from the Wolffs as Jack drifts back to sleep in the comfort of her arms, tucked tight against one of Carlos' old Red Bull hoodies she'd stolen years back. A staple in her closet now.

"George is out... for a while." Toto makes a vague gesture, "At least two months. They're suspecting a spinal injury. If so, he's out for the season."

"Ah, dios mio, it looked horrible on the little plane screens. I didn't imagine this bad." Valeria rubs Jack's back, giving her shaky hands something to do. Toto just nods and leans on his desk, Susie's hand resting on his forearm softly as she turns back to fully face Valeria.

"He's alright. Carmen's flying in to be with him and his team while his family prepares for him to be sent home." Susie looks at Valeria, watching the girl with a keen eye the Spaniard in front of her has picked up on over the years.

"No." Valeria whispers, an edge of surprise, "But what about Schumacher? And Vesti?"

"I can pull you fully out of F1 Academy easier than getting those two for long term, plus, we need to keep them as reserve for Lewis. They're more used to his car than Georges." Susie hums and Toto nods, rolling his neck out and looking up at Valeria.

"You have been driving for Mercedes since we could have you on our program. There is no one I'd want more for a long-term contract than you, Valeria." A tiny smile graces Toto's distressed expression for half a second as he says, "You've babysat Jack all these years, you're like family. Plus... I trust your capability to be thrown in with little warning."

"Quali's tomorrow. We need you here at... we'll say ten because you need sleep. Sharp, Sainz." Toto snaps for the extra effect and Valeria nods. The night is still when Mercedes packs up, Susie bringing Valeria back to the hotel alongside Jack while Toto goes off to the hospital. It's too early to wake her family, so Valeria jumps around in excitement in the bathroom before getting herself ready for bed.

Her Formula One debut tomorrow. And only her and the Wolff's know.

Valeria doesn't sleep.

Well, she does. But it's terrible sleep. And Carlos moving in the attached en suite wakes her up fully only a few hours after shes gotten home. It’s barely sunlight, but she can’t help but get out of bed and stumble to the kitchen.

“[Why are you awake, Valita?]” Carlos asks his sister in Spanish, one arm lifting so the baby of the family can tuck herself comfortably against his broad chest.

“[Slept terribly. I’m racing.]”

“Qué?” Carlos pauses mid coffee making to look down at his sister, her mused hair and tired expression. The girl who was seven years his inferior, who had taken after him in every aspect of his life.

She was racing?

“Today, ahora. This weekend. I’m racing for George.”

"What?" He blink again, still struggling to process. Laughing to herself, Valeria unsticks from her brothers side and puts her hands on her hips as she blinks up at him.

"[Are you deaf?] Hello?" She waves a hand in front of his face and he swats it away, electing to go back to pouring some creamer in his coffee as he still stumbles through his words.

After a beat, he asks, "[This weekend?] In Australia?"

"No Carlos, [this weekend in Singapore.]" Valeria deadpans, bumping him off to the side so she can make her own coffee as she mutters, "Ponerse las pilas, Carlitos."

"Ay, tia," He pokes her side as he leans across her to grab his phone off the counter, "You don't get to Carlitos me, I get to Valita you."

"Yeah yeah," Valeria whacks her brothers arm, shooing him out of her space as she pours some coffee in a cup, "but, hello, me racing?"

Carlos hums, sitting at one of the barstools nearby, sipping his coffee before he says, "[How long is George out for?]"

"They're not sure... [I think Toto said at least two months.]" Valeria grabs the coffee creamers from the little coffee maker area, pouring a good few in along with some sugar.

"[Good lord,]" Carlos hums, setting his cup down, "through Monaco?"

"Most likely. He could be out for the whole season, but I don't know how bad his injury is." Valeria huffs, sitting down next to her brother who smiles and pulls his sister to his side.

"Congratulations, Valita. [If I was a bit more awake I'd look more excited.]" He chuckles and Valeria laughs, resting her head on his shoulder and yawning.

"Me too."

The paddock is absolutely buzzing as the Sainz family, right now just both Carlos' and Valeria, walk through the warm sun. Carlos keeps his children in front of him through the gates until they meet up with both Mercedes and Ferrari staff to help escort them along. They've been speaking amongst themselves for a while, Valeria trying to keep her nerves at bay as she walks into the paddocks. It's her first time here as a racer for F1, not just to support Carlos, and she can't help the way it makes her feel sick.

"¡Ay, Papá! Relax!" Carlos laughs, watching as his father adjusts Valeria's outfit for her... for about the hundreth time.

"[It's her debut, Carlos! Let me make her look nice!]" The man defends his actions as they've stopped outside the Mercedes garage. Valeria feels two little arms wrap around her leg and she laughs, leaning down to pick up Jack as the Wolff's approach and smile. Toto and Carlos Sr. exchange a quick hand shake and greeting while Susie fusses over Jack's shirt being ruffled now that he's still. Valeria is well aware of every camera on her, her skin crawling at the sight of everyone watching her.

This was the part of racing she never liked, but had to accept, the insane publicity.

"Alright." Carlos leans over to give his baby sister a tight hug she reciprocates without hesitation. Snuggling into his tight hold as he murmurs to her, "[Good luck, not a single one of us will go easy on you.]"

"[I wouldn't want you to.]" Valeria steps back, smiling at her brother. As much as she knew Carlos wanted nothing more than to keep her glued to his side the whole day, they didn't have much of a choice since they were on seperate teams. Before she can make a snide comment, her father takes her in for a tight hug.

"[I'm so proud of you, Valita.]" He muses to his daughter, stepping back after a moment to straighten her collar and give Jack a little fist bump.

"Gracias, Papá." Valeria smiles, pecking his cheek, "[I'll be nice to Carlos.]"

Her father laughs, a bellowing thing as he claps her shoulder and Carlos playfully flicks her cheek. A few more pleasantries are exchanged before Valeria's waving the two off to go drop him at Ferrari while she turns into Mercedes with the Wolffs.

As soon as they're in the garage, Susie takes Jack from Valeria and the driver escapes off to George's drivers room--or, hers, she supposes to drop her bags and get changed into her team shirt. It feels weird to press the Mercedes crest to her skin this time, because its a different uniform. The white shirt they're wearing this weekend pairs perfectly with her dark wash jeans and white platform sneakers, her gold jewelry a nice accent. But she can't help but stare at herself in the mirror.

This isn't F2, for F1 Academy. This is the real deal.

She hates that its an injury that's brought her into Formula 1. But, she supposes, it's nice to know that Mercedes trusted her. Winning F2 her first year in it and winning F1 Academy for two seasons might've done it, but shes also done hundreds of tests in these F1 cars. She knows George's car like the backs of her hands.

When she exits George's--her, drivers room, she so distracted runs headfirst into someone. Curses fall from her lips as she stabilized herself, barking out apologizes with a flushed face before soft laughter chimes in her ears.

"Oh! Lewis!" She smiles and the Brit grins, bringing her in for a tight hug.

"Hey Little Sainz, how are you?" Lewis steps back, eyes trailing up and down Valeria as if seeing her against for the first time, "God, you've grown since the last time I saw you."

"It's been like six months, Lewis. I haven't grown that much-- and I've been good! Training, training, and more training." Valeria follows Lewis out to the main garage, his hand ending up on her back to guide her through a bit of a crowd before the re-emerge in a calmer spot.

"I've been watching you and Dorianne absolutely dominating F1 Academy. It's nice to be getting the next generation of drivers in." Lewis smiles, stepping up to stand beside her. He's almost suffocatingly close as they chat, but she chalks it up to the crowded garage.

And tries to not think it's weird Lewis has yet to move his hand.

f1 made a new post!

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f1: BREAKING: F1 Academy and Mercedes Reserve Driver Valeria Sainz to drive for George Russell during his injury leave for the Australian GP. Mercedes is yet to release how long Russel will be out.

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"Holy shit, Prema crew is back!"

Valeria squeals as Logan lifts her, Oscar laughing off to the side as he steps to the side to wait for his turn to give their childhood third a hug. Since their days of karting, the three were practically glued at the hip. It had gotten to the point where the two had been to their home in Spain multiple times, and vice versa, the two practically as much her brothers as Carlos--with Lando slowly working up to tht level.

"How are my two pain in the necks doing? Got over your weird not talking bump?" Valeria is finally set on her feet and she pulls Oscar into a side hug, grinning happily before letting go of both as she leans against the wall of the exterior back wall Mercedes garage. It's still super early, so not many people are here, giving the three a quick pause to reconnect.

"Through the magic of you forcing us both to answer FaceTime calls, yeah." Oscar smiles, fist-bumping Logan, then Valeria, "Glad the trio is back in action."

"Fuck yeah. It's been way too long since the three of us have gone out, we should do something this weekend." Logan smiles and Oscar gasps, quickly rattling off a few places he and Lily were looking at going to over the weekend, as well as when his family was visiting. Logan tries to pay attention, to Oscar and Valeria's excited chatter, but he seems to notice something.

Oscar's about to call out Logan's distracted look whent he American pulls him a bit closer to Valeria and leans down to whisper, "Why's Lewis staring at you?"

Valeria perks up and then turns back to look in the garage where she can see Lewis' eyes for half a second before he tucks away and moves out of her eye line. Her eyebrows crease before she turns back to her friends.

"Probably just looking out for me, he's probably worried about media or something being weird..." Valeria shrugs, but when she feels eyes on her and turns back again, Lewis' gaze isn't exactly what she'd expect.

"No, it's not anything protective. It's.. like it's constant. It's weird." Logan hums and Oscar even looks back now, all three of the post-Prema trio staring at Lewis until he dips away.

"It's super weird." Oscar reinforces and both men look to Valeria. She sputters before admitting softly,

"Okay, he's been a little weird, but I think he's just worried with media and everything. The Mercedes garage was packed with reporters when I got here and he refused to move his hand off my back--I also didn't ask him to, so he probably think think it was weird but." Valeria shrugs, "there's no harm in him being nice guys."

"But he doesn't really know you, does he?" Oscar hums, "Like its not weird for me, Logan, or even Lando to do that because we're close with you and Carlos trusts us."

"Mate, I think you're overthinking this," Logan nudges Oscar lightly, sharing a knowing look with him, and Valeria can see his attempt at lightening the mood. But it falls flat.

And Oscar, thinking he's making a point just says, "I have sisters."

Logan turns to look at Valera for help, and she just shrugs, prompting Oscar to continue his thought.

"One of my sisters had this older dude she worked with hit on her for a few weeks before she noticed. He was always checking up on her, being overly nice, and the--the hand on the back thing! He did that."

Valeria laughs softly, squeezing Oscar's arm in reassurance, "I don't think he's flirting with me, Oscar. He's like, forty. He is literally old enough to be my father."

"You're definitely otherthinking this, Osc." Logan chuckles and Oscar raises his hands in defense, saying something about being better safe than sorry. But his words are lost in the hubbub of the paddocks as media starts to filter in, forcing the trio to say goodbye to turn to their respective garages.

Valeria tries to not let it bother her that Lewis is the first in Mercedes to speak to her when she returns.

"Valita!" Two arms wrap around Valeria's mid section and she squeals mid-interview as Carlos pokes her sides. Resorting to whacking his hands away so that she can get him to stop tickling her, Lissie laughing at the Sainz siblings banter.

"Congratulations on Q2," He smiles, wrapping an arm around his sister, the cooling feeling of his cooling vest on her back making her huff and lean into his touch.

"Congratulations to you on Q3, I was just as close as Ollie was to Q3!" Valeria laughs, letting Carlos hijack her interview for a bit. Mostly because she's excited to be able to do these sorts of things with her brother, and also because it feels safe.

"A wonderful start for the both of you tonight," Lissie smiles, angling her mic towards Carlos as he speaks.

"It's a real honor getting to have my sister here to race with me," Carlos slightly tightens his grip, but more out of a genuine happiness than any level of overprotective weirdness, "She's a wonderful driver and I really hope that people will get to see that this weekend, and in the future."

"And Valeria, how does it feel racing with Carlos?"

"Oh dios mio, It's like a dream! I never thought we would be able to race together since I was always just behind him, but I've looked up to Carlos since karting so it's honestly amazing to get to be there, driving along him now." Valeria turns to smile happily up at Carlos, who returns the gesture and passes her back to Lissie for her interview once he's whisked away by some Ferrari employees. Smiling through the interview, even as her energy is dragging, Valeria eventually finds solstice on the floor in her drivers room to sort of reset herself. Plus, the concrete is ice cold and it feels amazing after hours of being in a car and on her feet in the Australia heat.

Three knocks on her doorframe make her look over, to where Susie stands and smiles softly.

"Great work, rest up. We'll see you tomorrow."

Valeria nods, sitting up to thank her as Toto leans on the doorway behind her and smiles, his voice a deep timbre as he says, "those guys aren't going to take it easy on you tomorrow, to them you're just another car. Keep your head straight, stay locked in, you've done excellent so far."

"Thank you, Toto." Valeria gets up with the help of Susie, and as Lewis passes by with a soft congratulations she tries to ignore the fact his eyes seemed to settle anywhere but her face.

She's got bigger problems to worry about.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ taglist, thank you !!

#f1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #logan sargeant fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #lewis hamilton #carlos sainz fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction

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konboyblues · 3 months

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most painful thing about their relationship is that bart really was a stonecold cunt at first, to no fault of his own bc he didn't really understand the concept of family OR community outside of the very rudimentary 'i have dead parents and a gramma.' the fact that jenni understood and tried to get him to like her bc she knew he didn't really understand love/loss/family/community hit hard because yeah.... he DIDN'T understand these things, bc he was alone his entire existence, and his socialization process started with max and the manchester folks because wally could NOT deal with a someone who was the speed demon equivalent of a feral bobcat. but he DID start to learn. he did start to understand that there was more to just the speed he was born with. people matter...... having a cousin who got stranded matters. learning to love and care for that cousin matters. but like everything else, bart's needs and desires were NOT what mattered. to think that this boy grew up to become a man who could run through a crumbling universe to reunite his friends.... and found kon el, the lost boy and bring him back to world where he could find and have a home, even though bart himself was still, in spirit, alone since he'd died during flashpoint. the grief, the inherent LONELINESS he consistently experiences, and yet he didn't let it break him. that's real growth, baybey. bart allen, the man that you are

#bart allen #jenni ognats #kon el #young justice #impulse #real talk #dc comics

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satoshi-mochida · 5 months

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Revue Starlight: El Dorado launches August 8

Gematsu Source

(Possible spoilers for Revue Starlight below)

Visual novel Revue Starlight: El Dorado will launch for Switch and PC via Steam on August 8, publisher Bushiroad Games and developer Frontwing announced. It will support English, Japanese, Simplified Chinese, and Traditional Chinese language options.

In Japan, it will be priced at 3,980 yen for the physical standard edition, 14,980 yen for the Starlight Edition, and 39,800 yen for the Super Starlight Edition. The digital standard edition will cost 3,300 yen on Switch, with the PC price still to be determined.

The contents of each edition are as follows:

Standard Edition

A copy of the game

Weiβ Schwarz PR card

Raffle ticket for the stage to be performed in November 2024

Starlight Edition

A copy of the game

Blu-ray disc of Revue Starlight Re LIVE Reading Theatre Part 4 El Dorado – Includes performances of the reading stage performed on December 16 and 17

Weiβ Schwarz PR card

Raffle ticket for the stage to be performed in November 2024

Super Starlight Edition (limited to 999 copies, sold via Bushiroad Online Store raffles)

A copy of the game

Copy of original drawings with serial numbers

Blu-ray disc of Revue Starlight Re LIVE Reading Theatre Part 4 El Dorado – Includes performances of the reading stage performed on December 16 and 17

Weiβ Schwarz PR card

Raffle ticket for the stage to be performed in November 2024

And here is an overview of the game, via its official website:

About

The vast ocean sings to me. I must go and conquer it! Our last summer at Seisho Music Academy… With the 101st Seisho Festival “Starlight” coming up, we the students of the 99th class take up the challenge to perform “El Dorado,” an oceanic epic that Japan is proud of, for our summer performance. The exiled admiral, Salvatore Guglie. The heir to a royal Spanish family, Alejandro Javier Cavallero Cruz. Who will “we” choose… between the “two protagonists” of this story?

Characters

Karen Aijo – “No matter what waters I have to cross, I will… definitely reach you!” A Stage Girl who traded fates with her childhood friend Hikari to “stand on that stage together someday,” after being entranced by the stage play “Starlight” she watched as a child. She gave her all in performing “Starlight” with Hikari, and now begins to walk towards the “next stage” by herself.

Hikari Kagura – “I don’t need destiny or oaths anymore!” A Stage Girl who has loved stage plays since she was a child, and was led into the world of stage plays after watching “Starlight” with Karen. After performing the “fated stage play” with Karen, she has currently returned to studying at London’s Royal Institute of Dramatic Arts. She is striving towards becoming a stage actress while dreaming of the day she reunites with Karen on the stage.

Maya Tendo – “May my revenge shine beautifully as my fuel.” She is the top student at Seisho Music Academy. A thoroughbred, with both parents being prominent figures in the world of theater. Despite overflowing talent in acting, singing, and dancing, she is a proudly independent Stage Girl who has never become conceited and continues to aim to be the best. Aiming to join the New National First Theater Troupe, she imposes strict lessons on herself even today. Maya-sama continues to be Maya-sama even in her third year.

Junna Hoshimi – “I myself emit glimmering lights… A lighthouse star on the Evening Star!” A Stage Girl who keeps taking on stage plays with her vast amount of reading and solid knowledge, she is the most talented girl since the inception of Seisho Music Academy. She was once desperate to catch up with the frontrunners of the scene, but now aims to be a “dazzling protagonist” and sets her eyes far ahead in her own future. She is the former 99th Student Council President of Seisho Music Academy.

Mahiru Tsuyuzaki – “I will decide my own drama… burning myself like the Sun!” Karen and Hikari’s roommate. She is a cheerful Stage Girl with a vast range of expressiveness, and is looked up to by her juniors, but can get extraordinarily scary when angered. She gave Hikari a push of motivation and sent her on her way to share the fated stage play with Karen. She aims to join the New National First Theater Troupe, in order to become a Star who brings smiles to everyone.

Nana Daiba – “I’ll… go slicing for a bit.” She is Junna’s roommate, and at the same time, a Stage Girl with extraordinary talent in both performing and stage creation. She often has the chance to bake together with Mahiru, and she is affectionately nicknamed “Banana.” She loves everyone who helps to create the stage together, and that is the reason why she sometimes shows a ruthless side.

Claudine Saijo – “Thanks to you and my unjustified resentment!” She is a former child actress who has starred in numerous stage plays and movies from a young age. A pure-hearted and highly experienced Stage Girl who knows the ropes of a stage play. Although she honed her skills against Maya as her greatest rival, she returned to her roots in France after graduation and is slated to join a revue in Paris.

Futaba Isurugi – “I don’t want to see a version of you who’s good-mannered and runs neatly!” Unmatched when it comes to sword fights and action. She is a Stage Girl with great expressive power hidden in her small frame. She and Kaoruko have been stuck together since young. They both enrolled in the same school, and she drives them both to and from school on her motorbike. However, she has decided to walk her own path by accepting the challenge of the New National First Theater Troupe, and has entrusted her beloved bike to Kaoruko.

Kaoruko Hanayagi – “A competitive performance between the top stars of the Senka-ryu School and New National… I’d like such a stage play, someday.” The granddaughter of the head of the family that runs the Senka-ryu School of Japanese Dance. After graduation, she returned to Kyoto. She is a Stage Girl who lives a life of history and traditions, and will succeed the name of the 12th Head of Family, “Suisen Hanayagi.” After a huge quarrel, she accepts Futaba’s chosen path and sends her on her way. She is currently considering what to do with the motorbike that Futaba left behind with her, while grumbling that it is “a bother.”

Kiriko Masai and Shion Amemiya – “We are from the Stage Play Creation Program, in 99th Class Group B!” “In order to create an even stronger, even better Position Zero, become even greedier!” From the 99th Class Group B Stage Play Creation Program. Amemiya writes scripts with all her body and soul, while Masai flutters around controlling the stage. The two are also roommates. They stand at the forefront of Group B, having worked on many of the 99th Class’s stage plays, taking on hardships even while clashing and arguing. Before their final summer in the exchange program, they challenge making a stage play with a certain resolve in their hearts.

Judy Knightley – “If you seek a new universe… tear apart your wailing, and overcome the sea of blood!” A Stage Girl who boasts having top grades at London’s Royal Institute of Dramatic Arts, a school that is renowned for being the hardest in the world to get into. With outstanding acting skills and expressiveness that has been lauded even in the British theater world, she is a professional stage actress with a promising future. She has arrived at Seisho Music Academy for an exchange program, and stands in the way of the students in the 99th Class with her overwhelming brilliance.

[Update: Added the opening movie.]

youtube

#Revue Starlight: El Dorado #Revue Starlight #Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight #Bushiroad Games #Bushiroad #Frontwing #visual novel #Gematsu #Hoping for a localization announcement #Since it has an English option maybe it will come to the overseas eShops digitally?#Youtube

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trips2saturn · 3 months

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TOWL SPOILERS BELOW!!!!!!

enough time has passed and i’m impatient so here it is. episode two debriefing! ❤️‍🔥

danai and andy’s chemistry is unparalleled and has never been executed so well before by any other actors. their words, emotions, and energy into bringing these characters to life in such a tender way is something absolutely so enigmatic and goshshfgshdhsn i just love them. i love their dynamic and their power to create such an immaculate foundation that will always be such a memorable piece for all of us as fans of this franchise. 🫶🏼

michonne and nat deserved more time. point blank period. i sobbed violently and had to pause the episode for ten minutes. i loved his dynamic with michonne and how much impact his character had in under 40 minutes of screen time. missing him forever and ever. and not to be an asshole but their relationship is what the dude-bros wanted rick and okafor’s association to be ! tell me i’m wrong.

dana from a group of 40 people with her sister el. yaaaas go girl! she’s a b your honor please believe her!!! she’s totally not a badass powerhouse wife and mother of two who’s experienced more in her life than the crm ever have!!!

it’s FUCK the crm forever actually. CHLORINE GAS? killing the pregnant lady and her boyfriend???? im distraught. the most disgusting group of people to ever exist apart from the saviors. hoping to see their entire base burn to the ground by the end of this series !!!! <3

RICHONNE REUNITING AFTER CHOOSING TO GIVE UP HOPE TO FIND EACH OTHER 😭😭😭 the universe loves them soooo much they’re like this 🤞 when it comes to fate. i am still actively emotional over all of their scenes. they’re sooo in love with each other it hurts. i’m still on cloud nine just from seeing them kiss (and moan omg!) so excuse me. ❤️‍🩹

michonne cradling rick’s face and rick nuzzling into her hands? THAT IS HER BABY POOKIE SUGAR PLUM CRISP. keep them together! they cannot be separated!

jadis can die with all due disrespect. she ruined everything. it’s been her fault since the start. she separated them. she’s the reason that rj doesn’t know his father and only knows of his legendary stories. fuck her. d*e!

rick asking about jude multiple times :((( his baby. bring him home to his kids PLEASE. must’ve been such a shocker to hear him ask about his daughter and not daryl or negan oh no! abused, kidnapped father finds the love of his life and wants to make sure that their daughter is still okay after being away from her for a decade! SHOCKER! WOW. this is shocking news! 🙀

the scenes of michonne and nat having to rebuild their health after the chlorine gas bomb was so heartbreaking but powerful. michonne working out and continuing to push herself by being reminded of her strength, grief, and love. she is so strong and i’m so proud of her. i hate the crm.

“shoto? shoto?” PUNCHING ME IN THE GUT WOULD HURT LESS. meanwhile judith is also trying to reach out but their signal is too far gone for them to do so. 😭 pleaseeee i just need one future scene of them reuniting. michonne loves them so much she is the best mother ever. ❤️‍🩹

okay!!!!! that’s all that i have for now. still collecting my thoughts after this episode but i love my tv parents more than life. so happy to have them back and i can’t wait for the next four episodes!!!!!!!

#trips talks #towl spoilers #the ones who live #the walking dead #rick grimes #richonne #michonne grimes

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whatislife1babydonthurtme · 2 years

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Things in Stranger Things season 4 (Volume 2) which did not make sense, were forgotten or simply pissed me off.

❗️Spoilers obviously❗️

The whole town was convinced that there was a cult going on and people got up looking for Eddie and seemingly the rest of Hellfire Club because they were convinced it was a cult. Did they just give up? They never showed up again. Also the parents didn't bring this up at the end when everyone was reunited.

Why did Mike believe that the painting was for him and El when he clearly read the letter that said Will was painting it for someone he likes. Additionally, how the fuck did Mike not notice his supposed "best friend" sobbing in the car right next to him? You can clearly see him look in Will's direction but he just doesn't do anything.

Is the police just... dead? Where are they? Why are they not actively going after Jason's crew

Where is Owen? Is he alive? Why did he say that he could get El back in Hawkins in 2 hours tops if the Cali crew said it would take all night to get back, was he gonna call a private jet or something??

Where is the military? They went to that lab and then were never heard of again.

When Nancy was Vecna'd, she was in the laboratory. Why???? She had nothing to do with that place. Why wasn't she robbed from facing her own fears and traumas at the start of volume 2? Also when she got stuck in front of those doors which were blocked off by planks, they were push doors. Why did she rip off all of those planks if she could've just pushed the door and crawled in between those planks. Maybe I'm getting something wrong here but that just seems like such a hard thing to miss while writing the script...

Why did only Jason and his buddy go to Lucas and Erica when he had a whole team? Were the other guys just watching tv?

Vecna survived being transported to another reality and being hit by lightening so much that his skin peeled off, but can't handle Steve and Robin throwing a molotov at him? Or a shotgun? Really?

Did they leave Eddie's body in the upside down? Why is nobody mourning him besides his uncle and Dustin? I thought Mike, Lucas, Steve, Nancy, Robin and even Erica cared.

So El can bring people back from the dead now? That's not telekinesis, that's Mary Sue magic. What's next? She can share her powers with anyone she wants and then they can make people fly with the jerk of a wrist?

We still don't know why the upside down is stuck on the moment Will was taken. With the way this was brought up in volume 1 it really seemed like this would be answered in volume 2. But of course not, because Will Byers just kept getting sidelined in every way possible.

How come it was leaked that 5 people would die in volume 2 but the only important characters who died were Brenner (papa) and Eddie. Max died but she was brought back to life because apparently Eleven can do that now. That's not 5 is it? Or did they count the people in that helicopter who were trying to shoot Eleven?

Were we supposed to care about Brenner's death???? With how the cemra kept focusing so much on him? I was glad to watch him go!!

The timeskip of 2 full days in the middle of the climax???? Wtf was that??????

Mike being a complete asshole to Will these past 2 seasons was just for no reason then? He is JUST an asshole??

Were Robin, Nancy and Steve just choking on those vines for like 15 minutes or was the time where Eleven struck Vecna actually a lot shorter than that?

They actually forgot Will's birthday, I hoped they were just joking but they really forgot. He was the only character with a canon birthday within the series (until they talked about Dustin's) but clearly they care so little about Will that his entire existence is forgotten.

Wasn't the upside down toxic? Why is everyone just fine inhaling the shit?

The queerbait. No, gay people didn't bait themselves. Netflix, the Duffers, and the actors were actively promoting Byler and hyping up Will's sexuality when in reality Byler is just doomed, not just as a romance but as friendship as well. And Will did not explicitly come out to anyone. People are STILL in denial that he's gay and that's exactly why you make characters come out instead of keeping it "up to interpretation wink wink"

Will calling Mike the heart of their group yet Mike's the one who broke their party up the most.

Mike saying he instantly fell in love with Eleven when they met, as if he didn't tell her to shut up, go away and stop being weird back then.

Mike saying his life started on the day he met Eleven, the same day Will went missing, in his face. When Mike said before that the best thing he had ever done was befriend Will in kindergarten.

So did Vecna create the Mind Flayer or did it already exist? Cause if Vecna created it that's so goddamn lame and it adds no new mystery.

The continuous stereotypes and suffering/deaths of outcasts, poor people, queer people and people of color. One black character plays basketball and the other is a sassy one-liner. The brown guy is a funny weed man with barely to no relevancy to the plot. One lesbian gets a lazy background ship with a girl who is an exact copy of herself and the gay character is living in a painful unrequited love story and used as fuel for the main straight couple, without even being given a canon coming out scene. All this while the straight couples get together and have tons of moments together. Eddie who is poor, is seen as a cultist, dies and nobody besides 2 people mourn his death. Max, another poor character who had already lived through trauma and abuse, dies, gets brought back to life, is now comatose, probably crippled, and maybe permanently blind.

Will's endless suffering. He just can't ever be happy can he? Wtf is wrong with the writers...

Did the Russian crew just end up at Hoppers cabin like that in 2 days? No problems whatsoever? Wow that's convenient.

Hopper hugs Mike but not his new stepsons?

Not one, not two, but three jokes about Hopper once having been fat because he's lost weight in the prison.

Comments had some great additions and I came up with some more too so here's more:

Nobody showed up to Lucas' game when he had a very valid reason to want to play, and it was never brought up again. They all stood him up.

Eddie's death was so rushed and predictable. I saw it coming as soon as he said his whole "I'm a coward I run away I'm not a hero" speech. It's typical "I'm a coward so I'll die a hero" foreshadowing which is overused and just horrible. And in the end he didn't even save anyone, it was completely unnecessary. Eddie deserved to live.

Eleven not being able to win the final fight until she got validation from her boyfriend. Why was she not allowed to do this by herself?

The military watching the pizza van drive off and then do nothing about it? I thought they were experts at tracing and tracking, but nope, they just gave up after Eleven escaped the underground lab.

Just the Cali crew being sidelined so much when they once were such interesting characters (besides Argyle)

Steve saying he always loved Nancy and never moved on despite him telling Robin in season 3 that he didn't like her anymore. Let Steve move on and stop having Nancy jump from boy to boy, hurting them both in the process.

Just a nitpick but the sound design was so overly dramatic at times? Like Brenner LITERALLY snapped a pencil and the sound design was like ☄️💥🔥

Tell me what I missed cause I'd love to add it on this shit list.

#the disappointment i feel #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things spoilers #st 4 vol 2 #st 4 #will byers #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #jim hopper #eleven #el hopper #max mayfield #byler #long post #my post

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faithshouseofchaos · 4 months

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Miss Americana and the heartbreak prince— Prince Carlos sainz x reader part thirteen

Tagged— @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @alwayzbeenale @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @bbtoni @badassturtle13 @barcelonaloverf1life @crashingwavesofeuphoria @charlesf1leclerc @cmleitora @eugene-emt-roe @dark-night-sky-99 @darleneslane @dudenhaaa27 @faithm120701 @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @formulas-bitch @hollie911 @hrts4scarr @ironcowboycopnickel @ironmaiden1313 @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @ladymarvel27 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @norrisleclercf1 @norizznorris @oconswrld @omgsuperstarg @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @vivwritesfics @vellicora @venusisnothere @clowngirlsstuff @yl90

Badly translated Spanish if it’s wrong let me know and I’ll fix it

Not the google translate fucking up 🤡🤡🤡🤡

Carlos sat adjacent to his parents on the royal family’s private jet looking out the window typing his best not to break down.

“Carlos Míranos” Carlos Sr says, trying to get his son's attention.

“Qué?” Carlos jr replied in a rather harsh tone

“Hijo mío, sé que ahora duele, pero con el tiempo parará y, además, solo conoces a esta mujer desde hace cinco meses.” His father says

“ella no era sólo una mujer padre la amaba realmente la amaba y ustedes dos arruinaron algo bueno” Carlos jr replied angrily

Carlos couldn't help but remember the fun and precious moments he shared with you. He replayed them over and over in his head like a movie.

He thought about every moment he spent with you and a new wave of heartbreak would hit him each time.

He couldn't get over the fact that he had to leave you and return home to his family. He would never get to enjoy those fun moments with you again.

Carlos also thought about the simple things in life that he always took for granted. Things like going to the grocery store together, cooking dinner together, and watching movies together.

All those little moments that made him smile were gone now as he headed home to his family. He would have to leave all those memories behind and it was breaking his heart.

“Tu padre tiene razón, Carlos, ella es solo una niña. Con el tiempo seguirás adelante y además he elegido a la mujer más maravillosa para que te cases y te conviertas en reina.” Carlos' mother says speaking up.

“I won’t do it” he says “I won’t marry her”.

Carlos didn’t care what his parents had to say there was only one thing on his mind and that was you he should’ve taken your hand and run for the hills he was also thinking that he should’ve kissed you while he had the chance and now it was all over he’d never get to see you again.

They were all there to greet him and welcome him back home. He was happy to see his family but he couldn't help feeling a pang of sadness for the life he left behind.

He was torn and conflicted because he wanted to feel happy about his return home but he was also sad about the life he had to leave behind.

Carlos's family was so happy to have him home and they welcomed him back with open arms.

He was glad to be home but he couldn't help feeling like he was leaving a huge part of himself behind. He felt guilty for feeling so torn but he couldn't keep it from showing in the sad and distant look on his face as he reunited with his parents.

Carlos was a little distant when he reunited with his parents. He was so happy to be home but his heart was still heartbroken. They could also tell that he was a little different now that he had experienced such intense emotions while he was away.

They were glad to have him home but they could tell that he had grown from his experiences with you, and it wasn't all for the better. They could tell that he was still heartbroken.

Carlos went straight to his room after getting back home. He didn't want to come out and interact with his family. He couldn't stand to look at anyone right now.

He basically became a recluse and would only come out of his room when he was needed.

Carlos's parents knew that he was having a hard time but they didn’t want to push him too hard. They tried to be respectful and supportive.

They would check on him and make sure he was doing okay but it was mostly just a quick check-in. Carlos seemed to be in this weird state of denial and avoidance.

When his family would speak to him, he would barely respond or just give one word answers. He did not want to engage in any conversation at all.

Carlos was completely heartbroken and depressed. He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror without feeling the pain of losing you.

You finally got back home after the airport and you just sunk to the floor, sliding down the door and sobbing your eyes out.

You knew you had to stay strong but it was too hard today to even pretend. You just let the emotion take over you and you broke down completely.

You felt like you had just lost everything and you didn't know how you were going to get through this.

You cried all night long and all the next day. Everything felt empty and hollow without Carlos by your side. You felt like half of you had just been ripped out of your body.

You missed him so much. You missed everything about him, his goofy laugh, his corny jokes, and all the little things you used to do together like going grocery shopping.

Now all of these things brought you nothing but pain because he wasn't there with you any more.

It was like you could hear his voice in the silence of your apartment. You felt like you could still hear his laughter, his words of encouragement, and his corny puns that always cheered you up.

You missed him so much that you even began to forget what your life was like before you met him. Everything seemed so plain and empty now.

The days seemed to drag on endlessly as you felt like you were living in a world without color. Everything just lost its flavor without him by your side.

Without Carlos, everything just felt cold and lonely. You felt like you needed him more than you needed anything else and you missed him desperately.

Your life began to feel like it was grey, monotonous, and boring. Everything seemed to lose its luster and sparkle. You felt like you were slowly suffocating from the emptiness of your life.

You couldn't remember a single day where you didn't miss him, and even now 2 months later, the pain was still fresh. You felt like nothing could ever fill the emptiness that he left behind.

Even the simplest of tasks seemed like a chore without him by your side. Going to work was a struggle and going home was even worse because the only thing you would come home to was an empty space.

It felt like everything you used to enjoy was tainted with memories of him. You kept picturing the two of you together while you did mundane things like cooking or watching a movie.

You tried to keep yourself from getting attached when Carlos first came into your life, but your heart had other plans.

You tried to convince yourself that he was just another person passing by in your life but he stuck out to you more than anyone before. You couldn't help but let your heart get carried away by his charisma and his charm.

The two of you had a strong connection from the very beginning and you knew you wouldn't be able to stay away from each other for long. You fell deep into his spell.

You were never expecting to fall in love with Carlos. He was just the new guy in town and in your eyes it seemed like you had so many other things going on that you didn't have time to focus on him. But everything suddenly changed when you guys got to know each other better.

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kordeliiius · 1 month

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[REPOST] A small Gaza evacuation masterlist

Hey guys! Since I've been getting more boosting requests on Twitter I decided to remake my Gaza evacuation Gofundme list in a slightly more condensed format. I've been encouraging progress on Twitter as requested, but I decided to share them all here too, since this is where I have a larger following. Below is a link to each campaign, a small summary of its goals, and the donation progress at the time making this new post. (I encourage you to read the ones with the progress in bold first, since their momentum is slower.) I'll also share the individuals' Twitter pages so you can see the names and faces that match the ones in the campaigns, as a means to verify.

Heba, Aya and family (organized by Asmaa) 22,564 / 60,000 Euros Evacuating 10 family members, including a young boy with cerebral palsy who currently can't access necessary medication https://twitter.com/hebaalmaqadma https://twitter.com/AlmaqadmaAya

Ibrahim 466 / 40,000 Euros Evacuating 8 family members https://twitter.com/ibrahimhandouqa

Bashar (organized by Darina) 24,206 / 65,000 AUD Evacuating a family and covering food and housing, as well as future uni tuition fees. He's currently campaigning for the $25,000 milestone and it's very close!! https://twitter.com/BasharInshasi

Ahmed and Muhammad Almofty (organized by Donia) 3,882 / 10,000 Euros Evacuating a young child from occupied territory https://twitter.com/AhmedAlmofty7

Mahmoud 3,480 / 50,000 Euros Helping a displaced family escape the aggression, allowing Mahmoud to resume studying computer engineering https://twitter.com/MAHMODALKATEB6

Noor (organized by Haafiz) 20,655 / 50,000 CAD First 25,000 CAD goes to evacuating a young photographer, her mother, and sister; the rest for her other siblings and in-laws https://twitter.com/Nooralsalout

Samah, Walaa, and family (organized by Abdel) 2,726 / 50,000 CAD Evacuating Samah and a handful of her scattered family members to Egypt https://twitter.com/walaahmd169

Motaz 1,280 / 20,000 Euros Evacuation to Egypt and then seeking asylum/education in Germany; also evacuating his parents, one of whom is disabled https://twitter.com/26Mo3taz

Deyaa (organized by Bárbara) 1,313 / 20,000 Euros Urgent plea from a 15-year-old boy to evacuate his immediate family. Some costs are for crossing the border while others are for basic necessities after they move. You can read his statement in the post. https://twitter.com/jesuisfucked

Ahmad (organized by Mohamed) 742 / 70,000 Euros Restoring livelihood to his family of 7 https://twitter.com/ahmadturk_ https://twitter.com/aseelalturkk

Mohammed Abu Hasanein (organized by Shaymaa) 960 / 350,000 SEK Crossing the Rafah border with immediate family, including 4 children and 2 seniors. You can read Mohammed's statement in the post. https://twitter.com/mido4palestine

Shahed 1,039 / 40,000 USD Saving a family of 7 https://twitter.com/shahedabumousa1

Noor El-Najjar 6,396 / 45,000 Euros Crossing the border with a family of 6-7 people https://twitter.com/_nnona20

Ahmad Shamia and family (organized by Mohammed) 8,921 / 250,000 SEK Evacuating 6 siblings and 2 seniors. Ahmad wants to find a new home to resume his dream of becoming a world-reknowned dentist https://twitter.com/ahmadposts1

Reda (organized by Sarrah) 2,375 / 50,000 AUD Rebuilding a home, finishing and graduating university outside of Gaza https://twitter.com/Redaahmad2001

Zena 147 / 30,000 pounds This family of 5 has been displaced 4 times since last fall; help they find safety in Egypt https://twitter.com/_e4r7

Ahmed Abdilah 227 / 20,000 Euros Travel expenses and basic necessities for a family of 10 https://twitter.com/osamh44444re

Mahmoud Altahrawi 856 / 35,000 CAD Reuniting a father and daughter in Egypt + evacuating several others https://twitter.com/MAlslwt1857 https://twitter.com/nariman_moham

Please share this list and donate if you can!! Many of these campaigns have barely progressed so your help is very appreciated. If you want to share these on Twitter as well, here's my thread.

#BOOST #palestine #free palestine #gaza #gaza genocide #fundraiser #gofundme #signal boost #humanitarian aid #mutual aid #suggest tags for me pleeeeease #kramblings

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carpathianspaceprincess · 1 year

Text

To Be A Soldier - (hbo!)Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: In which you have gotten yourselves and your young cargo into quite a dangerous situation. Now you have to decide who can be saved, but you're nearly out of time and Joel is as stubborn as ever. Rating: E. Minors DNI. CW / Tags: Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Desperation. Soft kiss. Non-gendered reader. Detailed description of wounds and several mentions of death and/or bodies. Established relationship. Open ending. Recommended listening: The Day After Tomorrow - Phoebe Bridgers. A/N: HELLO DARLINGS!! dawg idk what this is. It's been in my drafts for at least three weeks while i hummed and haaaaed over it. Realised halfway through that I was subconsciously pulling from my own personal relationship with death and grief, particularly towards the end. (aka I have daddy issues lol) PLEASE interact if you liked it (or hated it!). Also note I hate sad shit LMFAO this is the rare angst for me - there will be more and this is not the end of the story.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Maria assured you this job would be a breeze. All you had to do was drop off some cargo over the river. “Cargo” being Johanna, a girl of around six, who was to be reunited with her ecstatic parents after several months of Maria trying to locate them. How hard could it be?

The ride up was familiar terrain, and with the promised payment of around 200 cans (two hundred!) sitting safely in a storage unit, you considered the whole thing a win-win. The only con? You’d been forced to leave Ellie at home, a conversation you’d mistakenly left to Joel. You tried to explain that the bridge crossing was safely abandoned, and assured her you’d be back the day after tomorrow, but she wasn’t having it.

“I miss you when you’re gone! You can’t just leave me behind again!”

“It sucks, I know… what if I bring you back something cool to make up for it?”

“Fine, but you better make it good.”

“I will, I promise.”

Having smoothed things over, you’d started out optimistic; Joel allowing the brush of your hand against his own as you passed folks shoveling snow and raking leaves, cheeks rosy as summer faded and made way for the fresh, icy winter air. You delighted at Joel’s unexpected patience and humor for Johanna, and as the three of you rode, your laughter hung between the dense firs like streamers.

Then a FEDRA unit caught your unsuspecting trio by surprise up near the river bank, a mere two hours after setting out. Things had spun out of control quickly, and in the scuffle to escape Johanna had suffered a fall. You’d found the only cover you could in this shithole of a shepherd’s shack, fending off gunfire while you and Joel tried to figure out how you’d get back to Jackson with no horses and dwindling ammo. In your effort to push the little girl under a solid table for cover, you’d been careless and exposed yourself to the aim of one remaining officer.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“Fuck!” You stumble, back thudding against rotting wooden panels. “Fuck i’m stupid. fuck. fuck. fuck!”

“Shit.” Joel kneels over you, wild eyes reflecting your own. The steel of his shotgun gleams in the blistering sunset. Flustered concern etched in his forehead. “He’s down. How bad is it?.”

Wheezing in the dust and dripping sweat from your furrowed brow, you move your unsteady fingers over dirt-scuffed denim to get a better look at the sizable hole entrenched in the muscle of your inner thigh.

“Ahhh..I- I don’t know. Pretty deep.”

You shoot a dirty look to the bloodied bullet sitting just to your left. What a piece of shit. How could something so small cause so much fucking damage?

Warm, velvet red ripples steadily from the split skin.

“Bullet still in there?” He’s breathless.

“No.” You bite out. “Clean shot.”

You lift your hand, blood sticky and gross on your palm. He clicks his tongue as if it isn’t that serious, but the way his face whitens betrays him. This was all wrong. He should never have let you take this job. He should’ve convinced Maria to pick someone else.

“Okay. Okay. That’s alright. Scooch up now, I'll grab the kit.”

“No, no i’ll do it. Just…keep watch. I’ll be alright.” You rebuff his hovering anxiety, with more certainty than you feel. Mostly for his benefit.

Waving his hesitant form away with marginal annoyance, you grumble out a half-serious “s’fine.”

You will be, right? Fine? You’ve been through worse injuries than this. It’s not like you’re infected. Reaching up to rifle through the drawer beside you one-handed, you note that you can no longer feel the sting of your fingers, pinched over the wound to keep it closed.

Joel still hasn’t moved an inch, so you wave him off once more, needle and thread secured in hand. “Need you to keep your eye on the driveway, Joel.”

Christ, It’s only your lives at stake here. The last thing you need is him losing focus when he’s the only one with a gun, and you need him to actually use it if you want to make it out of this alive.

He reluctantly concedes, mumbling to himself. Anger and adrenaline still burn bright and hot in his chest at the sight of your wound, so while you pull on the edge of the thread with your teeth to free it, he turns away to focus on something else that isn’t covered in your blood, eyes landing on the corpse of the last soldier outside.

He knows he should feel bad that he’d gunned down that young boy without hesitation, should feel guilty. Some of these “officers” were still just kids, shoved out in front of threats as fodder.

But he doesn’t feel bad. He’ll do it again.

FEDRA radio static crackles from beneath the rest of the bodies splattered in the overgrown grass.

“Second unit ten minutes away, over.”

Okay. No reason to panic. You have ten minutes. This is fine.

You try hard not to focus on the mess as you thread the rusty needle with far more force than is required, slippery hands pressing the tip into the top section of flesh that’s split open. You push, wincing.

And the stupid thing breaks.

Snaps in two. Like it’s nothing.

No. no. no no no no.

Joel’s back is turned, and he misses the horror splashed across your features. Your heart beats out of your chest.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

“I broke it.”

He whips around, reaching for you immediately. “What? Broke what?” He spots the split metal beside you, red thread hanging limp, and picks the two ends up with an unreadable expression.

Forcing your eyes down purposefully into your mangled, pulsing leg, you barely see the fat lining through the ripples of blood and muscle. Fuck, that’s disgusting. Swallowing back a wave of nausea, you tear your sweat-soaked flannel over your head, pulling it as tight as you can stand. You can’t stitch it up, so this will have to do for now.

You shiver. Then two hands are firmly gripping your shoulders as you wither beneath Joel as he looms over you, dizzy and disorientated in panic. You grip his wrists to stop from losing face.

“Fuck. Okay…s’fine…just keep it wrapped. Won’t be long til’ the last of those dirty fuckers show up.” The timbre of his voice is deep, trembling. “I’ll take care of them ‘n then we get the hell out of here. We’ll head straight to Tommy’s..” He pauses. “You just gotta hold out for a bit longer, okay?”

You nod but can’t bring yourself to look at him as he brushes his large palm against your cheek in reassurance, standing to take his position against the wall by the door. You chew on your lip, tasting blood. How long can you really last like this? Night is closing in. The temperature is dropping fast. Your flannel is already wet. The reduced circulation will slow it down, give you maybe fifteen minutes of grace to figure something out.

But then what?

The faint rumble of engines sends electric shocks zip-zapping up and down your spine and Joel stands up straighter, index finger hovered over the slope of the trigger. He’s itching to pull it, to kill them all, end this horror of a day. Bury it in the past where it belongs. He’ll take you back home where it’s safe and run you a bath and forget this ever happened, banish it to the recesses of his nightmares.

Glossy with cold sweat, your pulse flutters. The ominous creep of a slippery puddle has begun to form between your inner thigh and the mottled floorboards. You count the seconds. And breathe. In and out. In and out. Think. think. think.

The silence is suffocating as you mull over your possible options. You could look around for another med kit, but what would be the chances? Plus, you can barely move and it would be a waste of energy. What about something to plug the hole? Tampons, pads…anything? Sweeping the barren room, you can’t see shit in the shadows except Johanna’s small frame, lying flat against the mattress. She’s been eerily still and quiet throughout the standoff, and you wonder if she’s afraid. Tear tracks stain her little cheeks. You chide yourself at forgetting to check on her.

“You alright, honey?”

She nods, but you notice the odd angle of her leg, and how she quivers. You had forgotten how dependent young children were, because Ellie was older and fairly self-sufficient now. An adult could potentially manage with a broken leg on foot for a while on regular terrain, but not a 6 year old. She needs a doctor, antibiotics. Joel will need to carry her back to Jackson.

The thing is, the numbness in your thigh that’s creeping steadily toward your hip tells you that the bullet has almost certainly nicked your main artery. Logic suggests you’d never make it to Jackson in time to stop bleeding out. Not even if you could run, let alone being unable to walk by yourself.

You watch the blood pool and spread, sinking into bug-bitten damp planks. Soaking the soil beneath. There shouldn’t be this much of it.

You turn back to Joel warily, angling yourself so that only your good leg is facing toward Johanna. She’s already seen far too much today.

“How many rounds you got left?” You ask.

“Enough.” He lies.

“Even if you manage the whole unit, I can’t run like this.” You gesture to your leg, but he doesn’t look.

“I’ll carry you. S’fine.” He swears, wavering. Convincing himself.

“Look at me, Joel.” You hiss.

You’re glaring at him as he methodically checks every part of the gun and frustration bubbles up inside you. You do not have time for his denial.

“Joel!”

He looks up at the sound of your growing desperation and you shift, grimacing as your thigh pulses with blistering pain. His eyes lower as you gingerly lift the shirt so he can see how bad it really is, plastered and dripping in the evidence of your failure. The uselessness and futility of it all. He starts toward you. “Don’t fuckin’ take it off! Jesus christ.”

“Hand me the gun, Miller.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You try to push back the tears that are brimming in your eyes. How can you convince him?

“Cop on, for christ’s sake. You only have two hands. If you give me the gun you can get the hell out of here and ta-”

You don’t get to finish your explanation as he slams the shotgun down on the table. The walls shake with the impact of it. “What kind of man do you fuckin’ think I am? Huh? You really think i’d leave you here? Abandon you?”

You exhale gratuitously, trying to get ahold of yourself so you don’t ruin this more than you already have. “It’s not about me Joel.” You plead, “I know what kind of a man you are. But look at that kid, she can’t fucking run!”

“ Don’t make this difficult for me” You whisper, biting back a wave of grief at how beautiful he looks in this light, even in his anger.

His eyes bore holes into yours. Silent. Unwavering. He won’t let you do this, there has to be another way. He’ll find it.

You look him dead on, mustering all the courage you have left in you.

“Could you live with yourself? if you let her die, just because you’re too much of a coward to let me go?” You almost regret the weight and severity of your words, but you’re pulling your last card here. Somebody has to survive this mess and you’ll do what you have to do, though it breaks your fucking heart to know you’ll never get the future you were imagining this morning - that you’ll never feel the warmth of the sun again or be able to see Ellie grow up, never have the garden you wanted so badly, or feel the rush of exhilaration when you ride out with Joel for a job. You’ll die right here when he leaves you behind and you have to make him do it.

Because if he doesn’t take the girl and get the fuck out out, all three of you are done for.

“You’re a dad, Miller.” You change tack, voice softer now, lilted. “You know what you have to do.” Your heavy, tired eyes flit to the left.

He’s silenced by that, pained gaze turned to where the youngster is sat. He knows her leg hurts and he can see the bone is resting at an odd angle. You’re right, she can’t run. But there has to be something he can do.

Joel looks at her like he has to double check several times before turning back to you - words twisted and caught in his throat. A large, soft hand rests on your thigh. “I-I’ll find another needle and thread and we’ll patch you up right here, okay? You…you can run if it’s stitched. We’ll make it.”

Tears burn your eyes as you see the devastation mirrored in his own. The longing. You turn your head down, snaking your hand through his curls and pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. Savouring every part of him as much as you can.

“I’m dying, Joel.” You release the words in one breath, but you surprisingly find you accept them easily. Naturally. You’d thought it’d be difficult to actually acknowledge it, but there’s no apprehension or venom in your voice.

“Don’t. Don’t you fuckin’ dare say that.”

You open your eyes and take him in, heartbroken. All orange and red and purple, soft and dream-like. A smile touches your cheeks and Joel marvels at that, how beautiful and angelic you are, even while you’re bleeding out in front of him. It’s too much for him and his chest constricts painfully. How could he have let this happen? You can’t be dying. He won’t let you.

“You have to let me go, Miller”

His head ducks down and he swallows thickly. Joel has felt helplessness before, more times than he cared to remember. This time it’s also denial that crushes him as he scrambles, trying to find a solution he knows already doesn’t exist. This is all happening too fast, his whole life falling down around him. What would he say to Ellie? She would hate him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Not if he did this.

“I won’t. I won’t fail again.”

Panic rises in you at his reluctance and you grip his hand as tight as you can. “You’ll fail me if you don’t get that girl to a doctor! I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t make it home to her mama, Joel.”

“It’s not your fault.” You add, softly, though he shakes his head ever so slightly.

You hear the disruptive crackle again. “Unit dropping in five, over.”

He stands abruptly and you do too, taking his outstretched hand and letting him support your weight as you both peer across the lawn, searching for the vehicles, but unable to see much beyond the winding driveway and thicket of trees.

The engines are a little louder now. Shouts and orders echoing distantly from empty streets and the valley edges. There’s nothing else alive here to make noise, save for a few infected wandering the edges of town.

Joel’s arm slides comfortably around you and you lean into it. So warm and good. Always there for you. Looking after you. Supporting the weight of your whole world. And as much as your exhausted body is begging for his touch, screaming for the comfort of his arms, dying for him to pick you up and carry you home and wrap you up to lie lazily in his bed, it would be real fuckin’ selfish of you to give in.

Your heart pangs as you think of Ellie. She’ll never forgive you.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks now, but you don’t care anymore and you look at Joel, really look, trying to etch every detail of this man’s face into your memory. God, he was beautiful. Every gentle line and every hair, the tug of his soft mouth and the glint of his eyes.

Your left hand grips his over the cold metal and you steel your resolve. This time you have to be the strong one. For him. For her.

“Give me the fucking gun, Joel.”

There’s a moment of silence where you think he might fight, might try to convince you there’s another way, try to make you run with him even though you can’t even stand up properly. But his grip relaxes and a huge wave of relief washes over you. Adjusting your position, you struggle unceremoniously with his help to a spot underneath the window that’ll give you the cover you need while you do this last thing. Your muscles relax against the floor, eager to rest. He reluctantly lets you slide down.

At the kickback of a truck that’s too close, he moves over to Johanna and crouches, motioning for her to climb onto his broad back. “Come on now, sweetheart”

“What about her?” The girl’s voice is quiet, resigned.

“Don’t you worry honey, I’ll be right behind you.” The lie is smooth and sweet in your mouth. Too easy, too sure. Parental. Joel’s been rubbing off on you. You reassure her even as you begin to tremble.

Joel’s expression is unreadable and he takes a shaky step toward you, holding his cargo carefully. She clings to him and you try to steel yourself.

Doors shut and slam in the near distance, and you realize they must be equipping and briefing down at the turnoff because they don’t know you know they’re coming. You give Joel a pointed look at the open back door, a silent directive. Go. They’ve parked up. You need the time. Instead, he advances til he’s right in front of you.

“What are you doing?” You croak, not wanting to prolong this, for his sake as well as your own. Aren’t you suffering enough? “You gotta go, Joel. You got like, five minutes to put as much ground as you can between us.”

“Let me look at you, for christ’s sake.” one last time. Committing to his own memory your sure grip of the shotgun he taught you how to use, searing into his brain the way your hair is curling in the humidity and the pretty silhouette of your nose. The inky brush of your eyelashes. When he’d picked you up two years ago in Arizona, you couldn’t even set a trap. Now here you are, willing to do the unthinkable for a child you don’t even know.

Would he still have stopped to throw you in the back of his truck, all that time ago, knowing now that going with him would end this way? That you’d never even make it to 30? That being with him was a death sentence?

He’s not strong enough to say that he wouldn’t have done everything exactly the same, and he thinks that’s fucking selfish. But what was his life without you? Knowing your warmth and your life and your joy, could he have ever consciously chosen to live without it? He’d never meant for this to happen. He had promised to protect you, not to leave you behind to die in some dirty shack. After all you’d been through and all the cards you’d been dealt, he’d sworn to make sure he’d take care of you for the rest of your life. That pain and death would be kept at bay. That you wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

Anger and despair and frustration all battled for dominance inside him, leaving him raw and broken in front of you. He’d coped with so much death, lost Sarah’s mom, then Sarah. Nearly lost Ellie. How could he give you up like this? Even when there was no other choice, no other way?.

In that moment he feels completely pathetic in the light of your bravery. Guilt crawls up his spine, twisting and pulling. He’s failed you.

“I’m sorry.”

You, frustrated, sniff back the sob that’s trying to break out of you. “No, Joel, it’s-”

“I’ll come back. Tonight.” He interrupts, tormented. His own sorrow crashing over you both. You shake your head. He can’t. Plus, you don’t want him to see whatever sorry state you’re sure your body will be in by that time.

“You gotta stay with Ellie, Joel.”

Reminded suddenly of the book in your bag and not wanting to forget your promise, you use your good leg to boot it over towards Joel. “Here,” Worn canvas slides along the floor and he retrieves it with his free arm, pulling the strap over and looking inside, realizing he’s looking at the book you’d been yarning your mouth off about.

“Promised her i’d pick something up. She was so mad at me for leaving her behind.” You offer, laughter mute and subdued.

He pulls it out.

“Give it to her yourself.” He returns, pleading.

Your gaze softens. “You’ll tell her I’m sorry?”

He curses and runs a hand over his face and his pain in tandem with your own is unbearable. So you close your eyes. The smell of him is still so intoxicating and you breathe deeply, willing it to linger, to comfort you.

The truth is, you’re only being brave for his sake. You know that if you let him see how afraid you really are, he’ll never be able to leave. You lean back against the wall, hoping it will ground you.

All of a sudden, his warm mouth is on your forehead pressing a kiss into you, and the intensity behind it blinds you despite the fact you can’t see anything anyway. The kind of kiss that’s supposed to stay with you. The only way he can. You’re dizzy, suddenly. You defy the urge to reach up and keep him held tight against you forever.

“I’ll bring you home, I promise.” The hope in his voice almost breaks you. If you do your job right, there won’t be enough of you left for that.

“I’ll be here.” You let the sobs tear through your body, gripping the shotgun as if it’s the only thing grounding you. Your heart squeezes painfully. Sounds become louder. Boots on gravel, metal clicking. You were out of time five minutes ago.

“Go.” You cry, unable to hold it back. You are fatigued now, everything hurts, every cell in your body is aching for rest and comfort and he has to leave now.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

He has to force his legs to move, every bone in his body, every instinct denying the act. The weight of the little girl in his arms barely registering. She’s passed out from the shock, breathing steadily against him. He can’t tear his eyes away from your shaking hands as he backs towards the door.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. Please forgive me. Please be alive. I’ll come for you.

The thud of his boots grows quieter, and you wait several minutes (trying not to fall into the clutches of a greedy sleep) until there’s nothing but the encroaching sound of your killers and the hum of their vehicles. Blinking away your tears, you realize with mid-sob that a warm weight is over your lap, stifling the chill that ripples away from you like waves in a pond. Eyes adjusting back to the light, you discover the culprit is his tattered, worn leather jacket. Of course. It’s been placed over you so carefully, so quietly, that you didn’t even notice.

Clutching it against you, you allow yourself to let go now. You cry and cry and cry until you’re empty, choking, throat hoarse. You don’t care if the FEDRA boys hear you, you don’t care if anyone hears you. Joel’s gone now, he won’t have to listen to this pathetic demonstration of your fear.

Please, God, let her live. Let her live, let her live. I’ll do anything you want. Keep her alive for me.

Joel’s not a believer in higher power, but you are, so he prays to your god anyway, as the scent of fir smothers the air, and the cacophony of the forest sounds too much like you. Reminds him of your sweet smile and the honey in your brown eyes as the sun dipped into them. How many afternoons passed by, lazily drenched in summer heat, like two cats gorged on life? How many moments has he spent, mapping and memorizing you? He’s walked away, but everything inside him is still there, in the shack with you. He hopes that you won’t be cold now. That his jacket will keep you warm enough and that maybe, maybe, you can slip away before FEDRA even gets to you. Maybe you can hide.

It’s logically close to impossible.

He feels like a hypocrite, muttering promises under his breath as he stumbles through the night, and wonders how could he pray now? Offer words up to a God who had condemned you both here? And who was God to choose? To turn the wheel, throw the dice on who’s life to give and who’s to take away? How was that fair at all? To take away your future like that? His future, too?

He also makes different kinds of promises. Ones he’ll keep to himself that involve his baser self. An eye for an eye. They took you from him? He’d take everything. Destroy the whole organisation from the inside out.

FEDRA and the whole damn world could go blind for all he fucking cared. He wasn’t fighting for justice. You deserved more than that. You deserved to have somebody avenge you. You deserved to know that you meant enough to somebody, were loved enough, that they’d tear apart the world for you.

He doesn’t think he’s ever run so fast in his life.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

You hiccup, wiping your blurry eyes on the back of your hand with your shirt. His shirt. Sniffing and hoping Joel won’t find your face covered in tear stains and snot after you die, (despite the absurdity of it, you’d be so embarassed) you cock his shotgun and take a preliminary aim out of the corner of the hole in the glass window pane. By your own calculations, It’ll take the six men at the bottom of the winding driveway about a minute to get up the lawn, and you need to give Joel as big of a head start as you possibly can, although he’s likely already far enough away. You spot three more younger boys bringing up the rear. They walk slowly and using your other hand, you pull the leather jacket over you, settling against the window frame further because you’re tired and you’re done moving.

“Come out with your hands up, Miller!”

You bite your lip and stay silent. You wanted to wait as long as possible before engaging them and having them realize Joel isn’t with you, but one of the older officers with a “commander” badge fastened to his lapel slipped your eyeline and has come far too close to your position near the door. You decide quickly that you’ll pick him off before he can spot you. With a twitch of your index and a bang that’s absorbed into the hungry night sky, the man’s dead in the dirt with a splatter the size of Texas covering his front.

Unexpected chaos erupts. The younger officers are not as well trained as you had assumed they would be. To your dismay, they immediately panic, breaking formation and begin firing. Your own shots only take down two more.

The planks of the door blister and break and shrapnel and dust fills the air. You instinctively turn away from the window. “Shit!”

You have seconds left to reload and you’re too slow. But you’d known it was coming to this. Every moment of your life, every choice you made, leading you to this moment. You know you must look pathetic like this, crouched under the frame, bleeding out, cowering. In pain. But you’d do it all again for him. Joel was safe now, he’d make sure Johanna got back. That was all that mattered.

Your life in exchange for theirs. You, for two futures. More than fair. Jackson wouldn’t suffer through the winter. Ellie would still get her book. Joel still had time, he could find someone else, maybe even love again.

Boots thud and voices yell and a piercing pain suddenly blooms from your chest. Vermillion unraveling over your chest like an unfurling flower in spring. The door collapses into the frame and soldiers spill into the shack. Everything is hazy and distorted, shapes dissolving this way and that, voices shrill and every noise and sensation amplified. Faceless men. Toy soldiers. The overstimulation is painful, and you feel someone shaking you - hard. Another is clicking his fingers in front of your eyes, trying to keep you conscious.

“Hey, look at me! Miller. Where’s Miller?!”

“Don’t worry boys.” You cough out, laughing. It’s strange in your ears. Everything is ringing. When Joel finds your shot-up corpse, he’ll lose his mind, and as much as you hate that he’ll have to see it, you get a kind of sick satisfaction knowing they’ll have to suffer at his hands for what they’ve done. That your pain won’t go unpunished.

“He’ll…he’ll be back for-” You can’t manage to finish because blood has backed up in your throat, but you’re sure they get the picture. The iron taste is final in your mouth, filling up your lungs. You stop trying to hold yourself up, there’s no point. The soldiers are yelling, still trying to communicate with you. You’re done now.

As you hit the floor with an exhausted thud, you close your eyes against the sensory overload and it’s as if your subconscious knows you must be on the way out, because as FEDRA hands pull and grab at your shivering body and slick liquid pools on your stomach and waist, you’re enveloped by the arrest of your own memories, soaked in endorphins, dripping in affection. Your favourites flash before your eyes. The afternoon in the wheat field, your poems, the first time you’d met Ellie. His hands on your body for the first time, delicious currents rippling through your skin at his touch. His kisses, soft and luxurious, every touch for you so contradictive to everything else he had to handle in his life. The fire in your veins a result of his devotion to your pleasure - a way for him to reconcile the other things he’d had to do before you came along.

You know it isn’t real, know it’s that thing that happens to your brain when you die, but in your delirium you can swear that you hear Ellie’s tinkling laugh, feel the tender relief of Joel’s hands hot over your skin, melting away the bitter pain of the cold. You know you feel his breath on your neck and his kiss on your temple. You take it all, and you reach out - knowing he’s there. Whatever happens now, wherever you go, he’ll hold you. He’ll keep you safe.

“It’s cold here. It hurts, Joel.”

“‘S okay baby. I’m here now….no more pain. No more cryin’.”

He’s mouth-wateringly warm.

“I’m so afraid…so…so tired” You try to remember how you got here and what you were doing, but everything is so heavy around you, suppressing you.

“I know y’are. I know. You did well, sweetheart, we’re so proud of you. You’re so brave. My brave girl. But I need y’to let go and rest now, can you do that for me? ”

Of course. You’ll do anything he asks. You acquiesce easily, curling into him. So, so sleepy…

“Okay. Will you stay with me?”

“ I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You let go and dip gently into the black, waiting abyss.

#tlou #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedrostories #pedrohub #angst lol #rushkawrites #fanfiction #wtf even is this #fanfics #fics #reader insert #non gendered reader

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