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tieronecrush · 9 months

Text

part of me, apart from me

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

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

summary:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he really wants a cigarette.

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

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

Another inhale, slow exhale.

He can do this.

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

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

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

What a fucking asshole.

Certainly not a good father.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s that Peña charm.”

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

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

Another reason to curse his time in Colombia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where did all the time go?

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

And then he got the call.

He battled with the decision.

He talked to you about it.

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

Everything. A few more years was everything.

He missed so much.

“You okay, Jav?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’re you doin’, Jav?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

How do you always know what to say to him?

How did he ever walk away from you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mi princesa, you—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have got to be kidding me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shut up and take the room key.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

You’re a really good friend.

A great friend, actually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the time, Javier wasn’t too sure.

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

Be a father.

Be a partner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bathroom’s all yours, Jav.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Comes with experience.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet. Qué pasa, amor?”

“Did you quit smoking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad it was me, too.”

It is hot as fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s supposed to be an enjoyable day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s complete bullshit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Estoy ausente (I’m absent.)”

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

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

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

God, it’s unfair how beautiful you are.

And how kind, and forgiving, too.

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

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

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

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

“Qué?”

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

“Pollo asado?”

“Sí, con mole.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he does still have a chance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jav, it was both of us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Jav, need you so bad.”

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

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

An angel in the clouds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, please, Jav.”

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

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

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

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

“Javi, oh my god, fuck me…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Papí—Feels so good, papí.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see what I can do, amor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Amor? Lili Pad? Anybody home?”

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

“Long day, Jav?”

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

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

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

“Where’s Lili Pad?”

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

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

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

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

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

A pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

Positive.

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

You’re pregnant.

He’s going to be a dad again?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

javi's photo board in colombia <3

tagging mutuals that might be interested??

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

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angelkissiies · 1 year

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hocky au! abby losing a game and taking her fustration out on you in the locker rooms😵‍💫😵‍💫 god i am SICK for this woman.

emotional

abby anderson x reader

cw : PORN ITS JUST PORN, literally two mins of plot in the entire thing, cunnilingus, mommy kink, public ish sex, dirty talk, dom!abby, reader being a tad crazy, literally so many things I can’t label rn im so tired, lower your expectations to zero rn, hockey!au, modern!au, college!au.

wc : 4.3k (I have no idea how this happened)

| anon thank you for the request, i really hope I did it some justice but this probably is super unreadable. I’ve been thinking abt this nonstop for the past three days, so I hope you enjoy! |

Abby Anderson was not a sore loser, except on the off chance your school's rival team won, but that never happened. Other than the fact that it did, in the last few seconds too. They managed to get the last- and ultimately winning- goal, leading the school's undefeated streak to come to an end. In that scenario, she absolutely took the loss to heart, becoming the world's most frustrated girl as she practically threw her skates off and disappeared into the locker rooms.

Her teammates didn’t even dare to venture inside, deciding that wearing their sweaty uniforms home was a better fate than fucking with an angry Abby. It wasn’t often they saw her like this, but when they did it was crucial to be as scarce as possible. Being the team captain was a hard job, but being a team captain whose win streak was just destroyed.. by the rival team... Not even they could imagine the outrage.

“Abby?” You called down the hallway, arms filled with bags before you tossed them down by the doorway. It was weirdly silent, not a sound emitting from inside as you slowly pushed the door open.

The room seemed pretty empty, except for the tale-tell signs of Abby’s presence. Her gym bag was wide open and clothes littered the floor around it, accompanied by her (incredibly too big) water bottle. She was here, just where was the question.

You pushed in, letting the door swing closed with a ‘thwack’ against the frame, before glancing around the mostly darkened room. It was a pretty big place, seeing as the school had gotten a pretty massive check from some surgeon pertaining to the rink and all its little bits and bobs. A nice place, that was undeniable, seeing as all of the rivaling schools chose to visit instead of host.

“Abigaillll..” You drew out, turning a corner to find it desolate, making a disappointed frown pull at your lips. If anyone was able to calm the girl, it was you, coming in the clutch on rough games and making sure she didn’t get expelled for threatening to harm her opponents (she tended to get a little too into the game, like, all the time.) How was a mystery to most, seeing as they’d seen her take down grown men on the ice. but her little girlfriend? different story. “Wh-,”

A hand cut you off as it cupped over your mouth, pushing you back until you landed back first into the endcap of the lockers. Thinking the worst, you attempted to bite at the massive hand, earning a dry chuckle from someone you knew a little too well.

It was her, of course, it was her, who else would it be?

Abby licked her lips gingerly, her usual crystalline eyes taking on a darker more steely blue as she peered down at you, hand slowly moving from your mouth to the curve of your neck. “Hi.” She hummed, not really paying attention to you as her gaze followed her hand- watching as it caressed the soft flesh of your throat.

Heat rose in your cheeks, making you let out a small covering cough. “I’ve been looking for you.” You spoke, the soft graze of her nails against your skin catching you off guard enough to halt your sentence there, watching her face as she let her gaze fall to your chest.

“Oh yeah?” She asked, eyes flickering back up to meet your own, they were filled with something else now.

You nodded, recognizing the heat in her touch after having spent so long memorizing her personal language- something only you could decipher. “Yeah, I wanted to, uh, check on you.” Mostly true, seeing as her friends were too scared to try.

Abby raised an eyebrow, using a free hand to push her honey-toned waves over her shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be? Just a game, right?” She stated, words sharp enough to kill as she moved an arm over your head, using it to hold her weight as she loomed over you. “No need to be so..-”

“Fuck it.”

You would’ve fallen backward with the force of her kiss if she hadn’t carefully kept you placed firmly against the lockers- giving you little to no room to move. Not that you’d even consider it, seeing as the high her lips gave you was more than enough to keep you complacent with her will. She knew how easily she could rush this, how wet you’d get just from this small encounter, but she wanted needed to make this last.

Abby panted lightly as she broke away, eyes cloudy with frustration and lust as she eyed you. Something about her energy had shifted, she no longer felt like the angry girl on the ice, but instead like a predator stalking its prey. She wanted you in the most primal way but her conscience was holding her back- not wanting to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. “Baby, look at me.” She rumbled, voice dark as she took in the look of your blushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. Something about you made her feral, wild, untamable.

Your glossy eyes darted up to meet hers, almost making you gasp at how intimidating she looked. She towered over you, hair falling carelessly down her shoulders whilst she eyed you, not even to mention her face had taken on a tinge of red from the temperature of the locker rooms. You knew she didn’t have a bone in her body that could hurt you, but in the seconds leading up to your compliance, you would've let her if she wanted.

“What is the safeword?”

A pang of nerves shot through your stomach, glancing around the locker room before she moved a hand to your face- redirecting your gaze back to her. “B-but Abs, we can’t.” You managed, feeling the familiar warmth enter your panties as she forced your attention back onto her with a dry chuckle.

“Safeword. Now.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, “Mercy.” You whispered, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you watched her carefully. The room was silent despite the ragged breaths that fell from your lips, adding to the anticipation that had begun to soak your cunt.

“Atta girl.” Abby praised, pushing forward to capture your lips again, one hand coming around to linger at your waistband. Her lips were rougher this time, chapped from the chilly air, and desperate as they delved into a clash of teeth and drool. As much as she had begged herself to take her time, there was something inside of her that begged to be satisfied, it begged to be fed.

You whined into her mouth as she bit at your bottom lip, arms moving to lock around her neck as she used her free hand to unbutton your jeans. “Abby..” You panted, pressing your thighs together as you felt her hand dip past your waistband. “We can’t, what.. what if someone sees?” You managed halfheartedly, not wanting to stop but knowing it was the best decision.

Abby chuckled, nudging your thighs apart with her leg, giving her access to your heat. “Then let them.” Her fingers grazed over the soft cotton of your panties, feeling the wetness that had seeped through, before pressing into the little ball of nerves gently. It was enough to erect a strangled moan from your lips, urging her to continue her devious toying. She let her thick digits skim over the fabric covering your slit, just barely adding a bit of pressure to your swollen lips.

“Fuck,” You hissed, legs naturally easing even wider before she crudely pulled her hand from your cunt, making you whimper from the loss of contact. You’d immediately begun to think of some way to chide her before you’d processed the loss of contact, seeing as she now sunk to her knees. Her hands were focused on ridding you of your jeans, lips swollen and parted as she gazed up at you.

The sight made you groan aloud, her demanding yet desperate touch drove you insane as she eased the jeans down your legs until she finally got them off taking your panties with them in one swift movement. With a haphazard throw, you’d found yourself in just her oversized shirt that you’d stolen from her last night, trembling slightly under her electrifying touch. “Please, Abs.” You sighed, a hand moving to intertwine with her honey locks.

She made a show of licking her lips, keeping her eyes on your own as she dipped down to lick a stripe up your soaked cunt, arousing a satisfied groan to leave her mouth. If there was one thing she prided herself on, it was her self-control, but as she looped an arm around your thigh- she’d swear she’d been lying to herself the entire time.

Her shoulders pushed your legs open wider until you were practically thrown over her shoulders, barely able to hold yourself up without her. Chest heaving as you gripped her hair, head coming to rest upon the cool metal of the lockers behind you.

Abby flattened her tongue against your hole, nose bumping your clit gently as she tasted the arousal you’d accumulated after only a few minutes of being within her grasp. She dragged her tongue against the hot skin, coming up to swirl around your clit before sucking the small bundle between her lips roughly.

A sharp gasp left your mouth as you pulled at her hair, earning an amused noise from the girl. She knew how weak you got for her mouth, how easily she could unravel you without even really trying. Anytime she could, she’d use it to her advantage. “F-fuck, Abs.” You whimpered, feeling her tongue dip in between your folds to skim over your slit.

“You taste so fucking good.” She groaned, mouth now covered in your juices as she pressed messy open-mouthed kisses to your clit. You hadn’t realized, but her hand had left your waist, now hanging by your thigh as she pulled back slightly to watch as you fell limp against the lockers.

She barely hesitated as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, placing her free hand between your thighs, letting one thick digit slide in between your puffy lips before coming to a gentle stop above your slit. Her finger grazed over the hole, feeling as you attempted to clench around nothing. It brought a small smile to her lips as she glanced down at her sweatpants, biting the inside of her cheek lightly before letting her finger press into your cunt.

You whined at the sensation, instinctually clenching around it as your cunt sucked her in, attempting to buck your hips to gain the pleasure you craved from her. It was to no avail, as she used her body weight to keep you from moving. Her thick finger came to a stop before curling to massage the spongy spot that lay inside your cunt that only she knew how to reach. A string of curses fell from your lips in response, followed by a messy combination of praise and hatred for the girl as she drew it out painfully long.

Abby moved her head down to press soft kisses to the flesh on your thigh, letting a second finger join her first to stretch your pulsating walls out wide enough for her to fuck you. She made a point to ignore the spells of complaints falling from your lips as she pushed her fingers deep into your cunt, forcing a choked moan to fall from your lips as she began fucking into you with her fingers. “Like that baby?” She snickered quietly, barely loud enough for you to hear before she brought her lips back up to your clit, giving it a swirl with her tongue before pulling it in between her lips with a harsh suck.

You could’ve screamed from the explosion of pleasure coursing through your body as you writhed against the lockers, hands lost in her hair as you attempted to keep your composure. The way she knew your body was one you’d never experienced before, as she always seemed to know how to make you snap. Abby was the only person who’d ever been able to make you cum- despite her not being your first. She liked to joke about how shitty your exes were but in moments like this, you found it hard to disagree.

She was ruthless in her pace, picking it up once she felt your legs begin to tremble under her unyielding sexual torment. Her mouth didn’t falter, continuing to lap up the slick that had begun seeping from your sensitive cunt. “You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me taste you?” She hummed in the most venereal tone, tongue stuttering over your clit.

The band that had wound in your stomach tightened, making you clench harshly around her fingers, urging her to continue. Your mouth was ajar now, a silent cry for the girl beneath you leaving your bruised lips. “Please, oh fuck. Please, Abby.” You chanted as if you were asking God for a miracle.

God was a woman and she answered.

Abby curled her fingers again, using her thumb to rub rough circles into your clit as she pulled back to watch you fall apart above her, only being able to keep yourself standing with her assistance. It was her favorite sight to see, one of you cum drunk as she fucked orgasms out of you like it was easy. She prided herself on being the only girl who could see you like this, the only girl who could make you so wet it was dripping down your thighs. “So fucking pretty, baby.” She groaned, licking the slick from her lips.

You cried out, hips stuttering as you felt the band snapping, sending your eyes rolling back. A gush of liquid could be felt drenching Abby’s hand. It was like you’d been holding your breath, as you felt the air return to your lungs, followed by her fingers easing out of your now sore hole. She was so gentle, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before pushing herself up off of her knees to hover before you, holding you up as your legs wobbled beneath you.

“Abby,” You began, only to hear her shush you gently, pulling you into her as she allowed you to ride out the waves of your orgasm. You let your body fall to rest, moving your hands to rest on her hips. You ran your fingers over the hem of her gray sweatpants, letting yourself drown yourself in the feeling of her.

“Got another in you?” She asked, breath caressing the shell of your ear as she hovered above you, hands itching to have you bent over the nearest surface. She’d been holding out originally, not wanting to cross a line by bringing the strap into it, but with the wetness that’d begun to pool in her boxers- she knew she couldn’t hold out much longer. She wanted to fuck you, have you bent over the nearest surface stretched out by her cock. She wanted to be joking when she asked you but the desperation had begun to creep into her words, pushing her subconscious’s agenda.

You wanted to say no, still mortified by the idea of someone finding the two of you here but as you went to reply your body had already reacted, sending a dull ache right back to your core. With a small nod, you answered, only to be stopped by her strong grip on your jaw.

“Answer me, pretty.” Abby said, forcing your hazy eyes to focus back on her, giving you a small peck on the edge of your lips. Her touch was forceful yet soft as she handled you, making you fall deeper into the pit that was her love.

You stared back at her, pulling your lips in between your teeth before you could find the words. “Y-yes, yes. Please, Abs.” You mumbled, watching as her blushed lips pulled back in a smile, making you tilt your head in confusion.

Abby let out a soft breath, moving to press her hips into yours. “Who?”

A pang of desperation shot straight to your cunt as you gazed up at the woman, feeling the firm bulge in her sweatpants and knowing exactly what she wanted. It was something that started as a joke during the earlier portions of your relationship but soon became something much more serious, something much more personal as time went on. You didn’t think she genuinely liked it until she’d practically begged you to use it more during sex.

“Please, Mommy.”

She groaned in appreciation, feeling her boxers begin to stick to her legs with the arousal that had begun to build up. “Good girl, c’mere.” Her hands were guiding you, pulling you away from the lockers and towards the counter that sat nestled in the corner. It was something she’d fantasized about more than once, fucking you senseless here- a place she’d always associated with you. “I need to be inside of you, baby. So fucking bad.”

You whined at the thought, allowing her to press you up against the counter as she nudged your legs apart with her knee. Things felt like they were moving so slowly as you pressed your cheek onto the cold metal, cunt clenching around nothing as you heard her click the straps of the harness firmly into place. “Use me, mommy. M’yours.” Your voice was airy as you spoke, making the woman behind you chuckle darkly.

“That right?” Her hands settled on your hips, her sweatpants hanging around her thighs as she pushed them down just far enough to allow the strap to break free. The purple toy hung freely as she used a free hand to grip the base, rubbing the tip along your glistening folds. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to bury herself to the hilt in your sopping cunt, just the look of it was tempting her- not to mention the spout of pathetic noises that had begun to fall from your lips. She pushed the tip towards your hole, watching as it slowly began to sink into you, earning a satisfied noise to rumble in her chest.

Your hips jerked slightly, the newfound depth being filled by eight inches of purple plastic deep inside of your heat. It was something that made every ounce of self-respect leave your body, craving nothing but the abuse she supplied to your aching walls. “Need you.” You gasped, feeling her cold hands come back to massage your hips.

Abby felt a rush of adrenaline course through her veins making her jerk her hips back, pulling the strap almost completely from your cunt before snapping back- burying herself inside of you. “Yeah, you do. Don’t you, pretty?” She huffed, using your hips as leverage to fuck into you. It was as if something inside of her had snapped, throwing all care to the wind as her arms tensed making her fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips.

You gasped, fingers reaching for something to hold onto as she thrust. It was like being fucked dumb as your mouth opened but nothing legible came out, the sound of skin and plastic being drowned out by messy cries of pleasure as she looped an arm around to hook under your waist. She pulled you up off of the counter, pressing your back against her chest.

She was breathless, the harsh change of pace sending her for a loop as she pressed chaste kisses to your exposed neck, stopping right above the neckline of your shirt- mentally kicking herself for not taking it off of you when she had the chance. “So dirty.” She tsked, moving a hand to your throat before giving it a gentle squeeze. She was so close to losing herself in the pleasure, having the bumper rubbing harshly against her clit, drawing sharp gasps from her lips as she felt the frustration from the day ease up into something she could only describe as ecstasy.

Your stomach convulsed as she angled her hips up, abusing your core and making you let out the most embarrassingly loud moans in response, she knew exactly what she was doing. Today wasn’t any more about hockey than it was the parking ticket you’d managed to snag on the way here, it was about something that had been bubbling between the two of you for a bit now. Something that had managed to spill over into a place you’d never imagined getting your guts rearranged in. The fucking rink of all places. You made a mental note to thank the other team for winning.

“Fuck, fuck.” You hissed as she dropped her hand down to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit, practically forcing your climax to approach. As much as she wanted to keep going like this all night, she knew the cleaner would be around in the next half-hour. That was not a report she’d like to have in her file, considering who paid for the building.

Your mouth hung open, broken gasps and moans falling as you slacked underneath her- your body going limp as you felt a pulsing enter the walls of your cunt, an ache begging to be absolved as she rocked your hips onto the hard plastic. It always felt so sudden with her, never knowing how fast she’d be able to draw the band in your stomach to snap. “Mpfh, Abs- fuck, mommy.”

Abby ground her hips into yours, chasing the same high she felt coming to the surface in you. Her pace stuttering momentarily as the sensitivity caught her off guard, making a whiny moan escape her lips. She felt the coil in her stomach set alight, making her thrusts rougher and deeper as her hips chased the ribbed bumper. “That’s right, baby. Mommy’s fucking got you.” She hummed, lips nearing your ear.

A rush of heat coursed through your body, making your legs tremble as you stayed held against her body. Your stomach puffed and caved, spilling cum onto the purple plastic that invaded your sore hole, making your entire body wrack with sob-filled moans.

Around the base was a ring of white that Abby ignored as she continued to fuck into you, feeling a similar ache rise in her cunt. She held your trembling body close as her ache turned into a burning that then began to fill her stomach. Her cunt clenched around nothing as she abused the sore nub. Her chest heaved with every thrust, drinking in every estranged moan she could pull from you as the soreness took over. She felt her hands begin to shake as her final thirst sent her over the edge, making her move a hand onto the counter to hold herself up.

Her orgasm shot through her body, sending chills down her spine as she felt a gush of liquid soak through her boxers and onto the light material of her sweatpants. She gasped something heavenly in your ear as she did so, not loosening her grip for even a second, resting gently against your back as she recovered.

“F-fuck, Abs.” You managed, body still trembling from the pressure against your womb. It wasn't often that she was so rough, so public. “What happened today?”

It was almost a joke, though in some sense you really wanted to know, seeing as you were about to make her carry you to the car from how badly you were shaking. Could you drive like this? Who even knows? Though as she hesitated, you had almost begun to regret it- until she finally decided to speak.

“Some guy on the co-ed team called me emotional.” She explained, gently coaxing the strap from inside of you- trying not to cause any more discomfort as she did so. Her hand held your hip in place, the other coming to unclasp the harness from her hips.

You whimpered slightly at the feeling, following it up with a harsh scoff. If there was one thing Abby Anderson wasn’t, it was emotional. Probably just another man being fragile about a woman having feelings, per usual. “Who?” You asked, turning to face her now- seeing the product of your time spent. Her eyes were blown with easing lust, her face taking on a light pink hue. Her hair was now widely sticking to her face and poking up in random spots, making you giggle lightly as you used your hands to smooth them down to look halfway decent.

“Terrance, I think that's what his last name was.” Abby recalled, placing the harness and strap on the counter next to you before leaning into your gentle touch. “No need to worry about it though, I'm over it.”

You smiled at her, stepping up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to her chapped lips. “Oh, I'm not worried, honey. Not at all.”

bonus !

Approximately two days later

You walked down the courtyard towards the rink, having your earbuds in but not playing any music in hopes to avoid speaking to anyone on the way there. But as you passed a gaggle of girls sitting in the grass, you chose to slow down- having the urge to listen in to whatever they decided to gossip about today.

“Hey, did you hear about Josh?”

“Which josh?”

“Josh Terrance, the one with the dentist dad.”

“Oh, that one. No, what happened?”

“Some crazy bitch slashed his tires last night, he doesn’t know who it was but they got three of them.”

“Shit, that sucks. Kinda deserved it though, he's a douchebag.”

A satisfied smirk pulled at your lips as you sped up to pass them, a new pep in your step as you made your way to tell Abby of the mysterious ‘crazy bitch’ that just so happened to slash Mr.Terrance’s tires.

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herzgeist-writes · 5 months

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Hi emi, if the slot isn't taken already , I would love to read about a star gazing date with law.

Where we just talk about everything and nothing. And just share our secrets. A blushing law would be a lovely gift ☺️.

Thx for your writing.

Pairing: Law x gn!reader | Word count: 2.2k | Warnings: Light angst

Synopsis: It's brightness leads him home, his heart yearning to return to the north blue, albeit with grief and sorrow - missing the long lost loved ones. A man of his stature remembers the loneliness he endured. The past bears it's weight, crushing the Surgeon of Death's shoulders, yet you lighten the burden - for you offer him your hand, to be his new home.

A/N: . . AAA is all I can say. Stargazing is a classic! Just wholesome and fluffy. Thank you Anon for requesting this trope, I dearly hope you like it!

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

The stars expand over the dark blue above, enlightening the horizon in the faintest. Not all too far away from the coast, you hear the waves crashing upon the shore.

Salt and algae scents waft your way, mixing up with the soft odors of dew across the meadow. Comfortably lying on the lush green ground, you take a deep breath and close your eyes. It's been a long, straining day - and now you're finally able to turn off the worries and troubles lurking in your mind.

Besides your thoughts calming, your heart is on opposite terms, racing to the fact that you're awaiting a certain man, who should arrive any minute now.

Shifting nervously on the spot, your attempt to find your composure again, turns out to be for naught - coming to notice light footsteps heading your way, which elicits a skip of a beat in your chest.

"At least you could have told me where exactly we'd carry out this silly gesture.", the voice low and agitated, calls out to you and you straighten yourself instantaneously by the familiar tone of none other than the Surgeon of Death.

"Law! Took you long enough." - "Didn't I just tell yo- . . just terrific.", raising a brow at the sighing in aggravation man, it's impossible for you to contain a cheeky giggle. How you love to tease your Captain.

He takes a seat next to you and sets aside his nodachi, his gaze lifting to the skies. He is close, the warmth almost beaming over your whole being. It isn't easy for you to simply shuffle over to Law, wanting to nudge against his arm and lean your head onto his shoulder.

The gentle sounds of crickets coming from the grass and the ocean's tides lull you into a relaxed and content state, yet not to the fullest, for the man on your side is making things rather difficult to cope.

Thus you ask in shyness: "How did the discussion go with the Strawhats?" - "Nothing but a pain in the rear, if only he wouldn't be so reckless and negligent." Law's sound takes a exclusively sour note, indicating you not to tread any further regarding that topic, hence you try and change the subject.

"I heard there's a shop with rarities in the neighboring town. Maybe there's an addition to your coin collection available. We should visit it tomorrow!", is what you hint your Captain, slowly but surely scooting nearer to reduce the, though short, distance. Which were cold and stern just a moment ago, now are mellowed and calmed grey eyes, even only the mildest way noticable.

Law inhales deeply and pushes the air back through his lips in a forceful manner. It is then where you see his tension roll off of him, a small amused huff escaping in the process: "That actually sounds . . delightful." He looks at you from the side for a split second, before returning to look at the ocean of stars again.

The tranquil of this instant pauses as you out your inner child - chiming a rhyme in an almost melodic sense: "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight."

When was the last time Law was so baffled, that he couldn't even remark one's doings with a sassy comment? Perhaps ages ago, until you came along on a fine evening like this, deciding to act all adolescent out of the blue. It's a highly regarded achievement, catching the Surgeon of Death off guard, thus he mumbles: "Never do this ever again." - "What? Didn't you wish upon a star as a kid before?"

Silence. Only grey torn open eyes bore questions into your soul - oh dear. "Wait, don't tell me you don't know what that is?" Still, no answer. With care, you advance into his overly mature mind, giving it a nudge towards infant experience.

"Concentrate on any star in the sky and repeat after me!" - "That's ridiculous.", the Captain doesn't stand a chance against your strong, or rather good will, and after uncountable times of you begging for him to join, he gives in.

Together, you harmonize the rhyme and see to the otherworldly scene above, uncountable stars appearing each minute. "See? Wasn't so hard was it?", you laugh, earning a click of Law's tongue in response.

Driven to see your Captain at least a tad bit happier than now, you take upon a quest of pure risque. You might get kicked out of the crew, but it's totally worth it, is what you think to yourself. So you indulge him with your childhood's secret: "Hey, let me tell you something. When I was little, I used to steal from the merchant stands ALOT."

"Explains your rogue behaviour to this day . .", Law simply huffs in nonchalant, opting you to theatrically gasp and play all appalled and shocked. Even he cannot hold in a small chuckle by the sight of your exaggerated acting, shaking his head.

However, it makes you wonder - what was that supernova like, when he was a boy? Climbing trees, exploring the homeland or play fights with friends? To your knowledge, at least so you heard, as a young one he used to be a talented and eager kid, striving to become a doctor like his father.

He lives up to his own expectations, in your opinion that is. Law's perception, understanding and implementation is ineffable. The devil fruit powers he possesses, granting him abilites to analyse and treat with ease, are his strongest suit - making him one of a kind.

"I bet you were a little rascal just like me!", you banter teasingly, a smirk planting over your lips, awaitingly bouncing on your behind, obviously curious about his reply. Not as intent as you, the doctor sighs: "You could call it that. Kids at school were scared of me. Ask me another question, but I merely dissected frogs and other smaller creatures to study anatomy and-"

Interrupted by your outburst, your laughter entices him to snort along with you, yet furrows his brows in confusion. "What's so funny?" - "I can only imagine what it looked like, you merely holding a dead animal in your hands, presenting it to your screeching in terror friends.", though the pictures in your head seem innocent, they do bear a sad aspect.

Given his reaction, he didn't have many, or even any friends, did he? You only dare to ponder.

Serene atmosphere cradles the both of you, the horizon growing darker and darker by the second. After a while, you decide to break the awkward silence once more, now sitting this close, your arm grazes his: "Did you ever feel . . lonely?" You never waver from the glowing lights, entranced by the tranquil nature and influence.

"Lonely?", uncertain of your sudden approach, Law turns to face you, attentive to meet your gaze. As you finally do, he averts: "I have a crew to attend to, how can I feel lonesome?" - "You're a bad liar, Captain."

Appalled, he gapes at you, his frown about to form into an upturned 'U'. "Are you questioning your superior?" - "It's common sense, almost everyone felt lonely at least once in their lives.", your quick retort takes Law aback, leaving him rather speechless for a moment. So he lies down, crossed arms serving as a cushion on the back of his head to ease the posture.

"Then if you're so sure, what are you asking me for?" - "To show empathy and understanding.", his snappy backtalk gets outranked by an honest answer, a wholesome one to say the least. This he didn't expect, by all means, such pitty isn't in his book, but who is he to deny your kindness - though with difficulty.

He surrenders and gives you a long lasting stare, following your every move as you lay down next to him: "Maybe I was lonely at times. If it weren't for Bepo, Shachi and Penguin . . I couldn't even tell where I would be today."

His deepest thoughts are laid bare, evoking something vulnerable in him. "If you dare share the details of tonight's conversation, I'll see your body parts stuck beside the Tang.", Law's threat incites you, for you end up being quite flustered and scared simultaneously. To your abashment you flail your hands: "N-No don't worry, those lips are sealed."

Those lips - sealed? Why, there is a way to fulfil just that. Either cut them off and throw them into the deepest and darkest pits of the sea or . . put his own on y-

'What am I thinking?' rushes through the Captain's mind, surprised by his own ambiguity. Quick to rid these nefarious ideas, Law enquires back: "Were you feeling . . alone too? At some point of your life?"

"Yes. Many times. Until you asked me to join your crew . . ", you reminisce in your past, images appearing of your former self you now declare as 'dead' - you are not the person you used to be. On the contrary, to this day you are what you deem confident and powerful. All thanks to the Heart pirates, thanks to him.

A deft and low 'oh' rumbles out of Law, as if apologising for not finding you sooner. Humming contently, you assure him, blowing away any upcoming doubts or regrets: "I am glad you took me in. All these years together with you guys, up to no good - solving mysteries, fighting tough battles - it's a thrilling life, which I am honored to take part in.", you turn your head and face him, the gras rustling from the movement, adding, "Thank you for being my safe space . ."

The Surgeon of Death falls silent, haltingly letting his grey orbs hover over to you. It's to his uncertainty, insecurity that he isn't able to utter the words that pile up in his short circuiting brain.

And then there you are. You smile - warmly and with a spark in your eyes that leaves your Captain breathless. Be that as it may, he is strong enough to supress the redness threatening to overcome his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, he catches your attention by pointing at the dark blue, adorned with white specks, in hopes to avoid any further profound subjects. "Will you look at that. See that star formation looking like a pan? That's the big dipper.", he wise-cracks, his finger following the invisible lines and connecting the dots.

"Right above is the little dipper. You should see a bright shining star on it's tail." - "That's the north star, yes?", he continues in a whisper and confirms your query with a little 'correct'. The night's ambience fills your ears, for other creatures like frogs chime in to the musical interlude of late hours. Even an owl hoots it's opinions into the near by woods.

Staring at the brightest of stars, you adjust to the gentle frequences: "Aren't you from the north blue, Captain?" Simultaneously you stare at eachother, him replying your curiosity in swift: "Indeed. It's my-" he stops mid-sentence, reconsidering wether to speak his mind or keep it from you, yet he goes with the initial, "-home."

There is that aura of sorrow and loss looming over the man laying beside you, telling you he suffered and endured things you dare not even think of. Might explain his restless researches for history and endless nights of insomnia consuming every fibre of his being.

You see how his arm, which pointed at the sky, lowers to the ground again, visibly tense. Restricted by your own inner suspense, slightly jittery fingers drift towards his hand.

"(Y/n)-ya, what are you doing?", although not keen on your unannounced touch, your pinkies interlace - Law recognises a familiar sensation of his heart picking up the pace to upbeat.

Well, what are you doing? You're not certain yourself, but it surely feels . . nice. His skin is tender, oddly enough - given the fact his inked hands are in constant straining use and appear rough and calloused.

Still fixated on the north star, you utter: "You know, home isn't a place, it's a person. So," your small finger grips tighter around your Captain's and you shift nearer to him "we have eachother."

You are close. So much so he can feel your breath fanning against his neck. Law grits his teeth in annoyance, however the faint of a blush begins to spread all over his face. Unfortunately, that display is barely visible to you, but you can detect his unease through his nervous shuffles and huffs.

"How much I hate when you're doing that . .", he growls, heaving himself onto his side to look at you properly and . .

. . braids his adorned digits among yours, holding your hand tight "but promise me we'll never be lonely again and find home in one another."

Emotions about to catch onto your lashes, your lips curl slightly, mumbling in reassurance: "I promise. Let the north star be your reminder, that you'll never be alone."

With half lidded eyes, face mellow and hand caressing your wrist, Law dearly hopes for your words to be true.

This night, a man with a heart of a broken boy, wished upon a star, wishing to never lose home, never lose his loved ones.

#one piece #one piece law #trafalgar one piece #fanfiction #fanfic fluff #law x y/n #x reader #law x gn!reader #gender neutral y/n #light angst #fluff

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idyllic-affections · 11 months

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how do you think kavehs child obtain the vision? been thinking bout it and now its just like an itch on the back of my no existent brain-

how does [name] get their vision?

summary. kaveh's child is blessed with a hydro vision... or cursed, rather.

trigger & content warnings. referenced past trauma, depictions of a panic attack, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort. collei & reader, implied adoptive dad!kaveh & reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this post is an expansion of what if kaveh adopted a child? author's thoughts. OMG ANON thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble about this!! i have been thinking so hard about this ever since my last adoptive dad!kaveh post. anyway i try to avoid talking about fontaine too much, but it was inevitable in this post, so please remember that this was posted before fontaine's release. some details may not be lore-accurate because of that.

kaveh's beloved child, [name], recieves their vision in a very mundane way, but the feelings associated with the event are anything but.

it's in their early teen years, perhaps somewhere between twelve and fourteen, that their ambition reaches the point of being acknowledged by the gods above, resulting in them being blessed with a vision of their own. they aren't at kaveh and alhaitham's shared residence when it happens (they haven't had any reason to permanently move in with them yet, given the fact that they aren't old enough to enroll in the akademiya yet), nor are they at gandharva ville.

in fact...

they're at the palace of alcazarzaray.

kaveh is very much proud of his magnum opus, even with all the problems it caused him (they're smart enough to know why kaveh couldn't raise them by himself in their earliest years; nonetheless, they still love him, and hold nothing against him because they were still raised by wonderful people in spite of kaveh's financial issues). knowing this, it's with gentle and purposeful strokes of their paintbrush on the canvas that they sought to encapsulate its beauty in another light. the painting would have been a gift for kaveh.

it isn't uncommon for scholars and other bystanders to visit the palace. many scholars who do so often know who they are; those from amurta know of them through tighnari, those of them from kshahrewar know of them through kaveh, so on and so forth. some whisper fondly at the sight of them painting so intently, gaze sharp and lips slightly bitten due to the intensity of their focus, while others scoff but move on without pointing anything out.

ultimately, everyone knows it's best to leave them alone, either out of fear of disrupting them or out of fear of angering their influential family members.

it's sudden when they get their vision, the little gem sitting in their lap after a momentarily blinding flash at the most unexpected of moments.

it takes them a minute to come out of their artistic haze, blinking slowly at the sight of the unmistakable deep blue stone in their lap. they raise it to the sun. the symbol for hydro glares back at them.

that's when they panic.

their heart lurches into their throat as they quickly pack up all of their supplies, pupils blown wide with the rush of adrenaline and cortisol in their bloodstream. it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

getting a vision is generally regarded as a good thing. some may say that it's something to celebrate. people have compared their visions to being warm gazes like those from mentors looking at their students, loving looks from a parent to a child, but to them? oh, no. their's is something much more sinister than that.

it is the sharp, calculated gaze of a divine oppressor glaring at the poor, weak mortals at her feet.

if it had been any other element, they might have been excited, but...

hydro is the element of their homeland. nothing good came from their homeland. focalors virtually forced them out by taking their parents, forcing them to wander aimlessly through the sumeran deserts, ridden with heat stroke and exhaustion. their weak lungs as a result of fontaine's polluted state had a hard time supporting their journey. they were on the brink of death more than once. they had to go through all of that just to find a new home, a place to survive. nothing good came from their homeland.

nothing good came from fontaine. at least, not when they lived there.

so naturally, they flee, darting through the expansive rainforests of sumeru, vision clutched in one hand while the other carries a bag with all their supplies messily shoved in. after being with the forest rangers for so long, they know how to handle themselves. navigating the forest is second nature at that point.

the air is much clearer in this nation, they think. it's nice.

when they get to gandharva ville, all they can manage to do is break down sobbing into collei's arms. she doesn't know what's wrong, but she knows that something is wrong. she does tend to flinch away from sudden touches, but she's known [name] for so long now. it's genuinely hard for her to feel uncomfortable. sometimes she does, though. even so, the sight of their tears seems to drown out any discomfort she may have felt. she knows they would never hurt her.

she loves them too dearly to even consider pushing them away.

when they're calm enough to talk about it, quietly murmuring something about not wanting that stupid god's blessing, she offers to escort them back to alhaitham's house, because ultimately...

this isn't an issue she can handle.

they need kaveh.

they need their father.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! adoptive dad!kaveh taglist: @kaoyamamegami, @zeldadou, @bebobeboben. send a non-anonymous ask to be added.

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#: [ adoptive dad kaveh! 🌸 ]#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #platonic kaveh x reader #collei x reader

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adiluv · 2 years

Text

♡ JOHN DOE + YANDERE S/O HCS. ˚⊹꒷

﹕₊˚ʚ❤️ɞ・[word count] 1141.

﹕₊˚ʚ🐞ɞ・[warnings] yandere character, yandere reader, not edited/proofread.

﹕₊˚ʚ🖤ɞ・[adi moment] thank you so much for the request, anon!! this was pretty fun to work on, and i hadn’t actually thought of writing something like this before!! i wasn’t sure if you wanted headcanons, a drabble, or a oneshot, so i decided to do headcanons and explore some different aspects of the relationship!! things are all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! (๑•͈ᴗ•͈)

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・I imagine that Doe would have been stalking You for quite some time when the events of John Doe + take place. And I imagine that during this period of time, he would’ve been doing a lot to try and be as ‘normal’ and human-like as possible, thinking that it would help him gain your affections. That’s why it’s such a shock for him when he finds out that you feel the same ‘passion’ that he does! [He calls it passion, at least.] But of course, he’s not complaining! In fact, it’s something that would make him incredibly happy!

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Doe’s already a clingy person on his own, and would be the type to follow You around no matter what you’re doing. When the two of you initially started dating, he would be the type to try and give you some alone time in the assumption that it would make you happy. However, if You wanted him to stay by your side at every hour of the day, he would be overjoyed to! Free time is completely optional, to him at least!

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Though, with all of the affection that You let Doe give you, he might start to get worried that he’s being too overbearing. He might get scared that he’s smothering you too much, and that you might get uncomfortable and want to break up with him. Please make sure to reassure your eldritch boyfriend! He loves you with his entire being, and even the thought of you leaving him breaks his heart. After all, you dating him is nothing less than a dream come true, and he doesn’t want to risk things turning into a nightmare.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Assuming that all of that gets smoothened out, get ready for heaps upon heaps of affection. I’m talking about amounts of affection that you wouldn’t even be able to imagine, amounts beyond your wildest hopes and dreams. He will absolutely cover you in kisses at any given moment, hold your hand and walk around with you no matter where you’re going, clinging to you like plastic wrap on a bowl. Even if you somehow wanted him to leave you alone at that point, he probably wouldn’t.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・When I’m talking about the two of you always being together, I mean it in the most literal sense. If you’re out somewhere, Doe is with you. If you’re in the bathroom, Doe is waiting right outside. If you’re visiting a friend’s house, Doe will be sitting on their couch right next to you. If you’re at work, Doe will always be relaxing with You and pretending to be a very loyal customer whenever your boss decides to pop in. Everybody in your apartment complex would know, and it would become one of those very open secrets that nobody talks about, but everybody knows.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・If You had ever tried to stalk Doe, I can one-hundred percent guarantee that he knew. He’s got eyes in all sorts of places, even if you weren’t aware. Though, I’m unsure if he would call it stalking, per se. He’d probably just assume it to be some normal form of human interest, which if anything, would only cause him to want to stalk you more. This would also lead to you upping the intensity of your stalking in the assumption that he likes somebody else in your apartment complex, which would just lead to an entire stalk-off.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・This is something he’d casually bring up one day when the both of you start dating. You’d be snuggling into his side while the two of you are binging horror movies, and there’d be a scene where the killer is stalking their victim. And then, out of the blue, Doe would bounce up and point at the TV screen and start reminiscing about the times that you were both stalking each other. You didn’t know he was aware of that beforehand, and you nearly fell off the couch in shock. You then listened to your boyfriend go on a passionate ramble of all the places you hid while trying to stay out of his view, even bringing up the time when you tried to sneak into his house.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・It was a risky idea on your part, but You weren’t expecting things to be too difficult. However, despite the events of your first day in the valley, you had yet to properly adjust to the true weirdness of the place. His home seemed like an impossibly big maze after you had entered, doors to all sorts of strange places littering the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. Cue comedic shenanigans as you try to find the door to get out while trying to make sure that you didn’t get caught - something that you thought you succeeded in, but apparently not.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・As for jealousy, I imagine that Doe’s wouldn’t actually be too severe. If any version of You were to date Doe, his jealousy would mostly be dissipated since he would trust that nobody could steal you away from him - even more so if You were also a yandere like him. To him, there’s no point in worrying if the two of you are already so madly in love with each other!

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・He wouldn’t actually mind if you were the type to get jealous, though. If anything, I think he might just be a bit more on the flattered side of the spectrum. Now, he wouldn’t actually go out of his way to make you jealous, and he’d stop you from doing anything that you might regret, but he wouldn’t actually get upset about it either.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・Doe would love to brag to other people about how in love the two of you are. Now, he’s not the most social person, and he doesn’t have a large group of friends outside of You - or… any at all, to be honest. Regardless, he’ll take any opportunity provided to him to talk about how cute You are, and how lucky he is to be in such a happy relationship with you - even if it’s just to some poor gas station customer that’s letting all of the words in one ear and out the other. Doe usually doesn’t notice, but you make sure to give the patron a sharp glare - just in case.

╰₊˚ʚ🔪ɞ・I don’t think either of you would actually go as far as to do anything violent, at the end of the day. When it comes to it, I think the general possessiveness, clinginess, and possible jealousy on your end would be the most extreme that the relationship would become, especially seeing the fact that the two of you already have feelings for each other. Compared to the general weirdness of Uncanny Valley, I’m sure that the residents of the place wouldn’t really care, especially when you compare your relationship to the absolutely crazy things that take place on the island.

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#john doe #john doe game #john doe horror game #john doe visual novel #john doe x you #john doe x reader #john doe fanfic #scopophobia studios

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skaikruswan · 2 years

Note

could do an imagine where disere disguises himself as morpheus to steal a kiss from human reader, to provoke and annoy morpheus, messing with who is his, but his interpretation is not so good, and you find out before the final act.please 🙏🤗

To let your heart see true.

WC: 1,2 k. AO3

Relationship: Morpheus x reader

Notes: as requested, Desire of the Endless, impersonation, some angst at the end.

Dear anon, thanks for the prompt! I hope you like it :)

If you enjoyed this story, there are prompts: Cat!Morpheus, Jealous!Reader, as well as an ongoing fic.

Your keys are jiggling in your hands, and you let out a small sigh as your reach your home. Today has been exhausting, and you can’t wait to fall asleep, maybe even meet someone in your dreams.

You feel your cheeks warm up as you think about him. Morpheus. At first you thought he was nothing more than a figment of your imagination, so you just rolled with it and started talking to the mysterious and handsome stranger in your dreams. His visits started to become the highlight of each dream, of each night, and you liked to believe that he enjoyed the conversations and adventures as much as you did.

You thought that you went crazy once you saw him in real life. His explanation, however, almost cost you your sanity. Then again, how are you supposed to react when you find out that the dreamy companion you have a crush on is not only real, but Morpheus, the king of dreams and ruler of nightmares? It had been a shock, to say the least.

But it worked out in the end, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. Morpheus makes you so happy you could hug the world. He’s a dream come true.

You hum a love song as you push open your door and enter your kitchen, putting your bag on the table.

“Are you thinking about me?” a familiar voice asks, and you turn around to see Morpheus stand in your hallway. A small smirk adorns his handsome face, and he steps towards you.

“No, I am thinking about dinner,” you tease, a cheeky grin on your face as you turn around to open the fridge.

“I, too, am hungry, my darling,” Morpheus says, his voice a low purr as he crowds you, quickly pressing his lips on the back of your neck, earning himself a startled gasp.

“I notice.” Your voice sounds already breathless as you turn around and lean against the closed fridge, staring at Morpheus. You would never get used to his ethereal beauty, how his blue eyes seem to hold the universe, his pale skin shining like marble, his black hair darker than the night.

You feel heat blossom in your belly as you peer at Morpheus, his lips slightly parted, his fingers tracing figures on your waist. You feel a desire so acute and fierce, it almost feels as if you’re on fire.

“I want you, my darling.” It would be so easy to surrender yourself completely, to simply fall for the King of dreams, whom you somehow enchanted. Yet, a small voice inside of you reminds you that Morpheus usually uses your name, or calls you my love.

“I want you too, my lord.” You wait for a reaction, for a tic in his jaw or a shadow flashing in his eyes. Morpheus once told you that he enjoys you using his name, even prefers it. Almost everyone in his realm refers to him as lord or king, titles they all ought to use, but by using his name, he feels more connected to you.

“That’s what I want to hear.” Instead of being upset he seems to feel the opposite, his eyes the color of a starless sky as he gives you a heated look. Despite being on fire, you can’t fight the feeling that something is wrong. His hands are cupping your face, almost holding your head in place.

“Remember how we you held me like that when we visited Abel and Cain yesterday?” you ask, hoping he believes that your heart is racing because of him instead of the lie you just told.

“How could I forget, sweetheart?” He leans down and you have only seconds to react. You press your fingers against his lips, stopping him from stealing this kiss. After arching an eyebrow, you let out a strangled sound when you feel his tongue glide over the tip of your fingers.

“You’re not Morpheus.” Whoever this man, this being, is, he’s not the one you love, and this will stop. You haven’t made up your mind if you’re brave or foolish.

“No, they are not.” You look past the intruder and see Morpheus, your Morpheus. The fury in his eyes doesn’t burn; no, it feels like a blizzard. His features are frozen with wrath, and you feel as if the shadows around him are even deeper. You almost shiver.

“My dear brother, it took you long enough.” You look back from Morpheus to the imposter and gasp as you now stare into golden eyes. Morpheus has told you about his siblings, but it is still a surprise to be so close to Desire of the Endless. They truly look like they could entice everything and everyone, with their blond hair and ridiculously sexy black outfit.

“Don’t take it personal, darling,” they drawl at you, their voice like the sweetest honey, winking at you as they leave your personal space. “Dream is just so easy to tease.”

“You should remember our last conversation,” Morpheus growls, his voice so low and vicious it makes the hair at the back of your neck stand up.

“Spoilsport,” Desire pouts. This was just a game to them, another play to annoy Morpheus, and you were no more than a pawn.

“I think I shall remember you.” Desire grins at you, but without any mirth, baring their teeth almost like a snarl. “You seem more interesting than Dream’s previous lovers. Then again, there are so many I always forget them.”

Their mocking laugh echoes in your kitchen long after they’re gone.

“Morpheus, I am so sorry,” you start, unable to meet his gaze. You may have seen through Desire’s charade, but you still feel bad. Shouldn’t you have realized it earlier?

“No, my love. You have nothing to apologize for.” Your heart swells as he rushes towards you, his hands secure and solid as he wraps you in a hug.

“I should have noticed it earlier,” you protest weakly, closing your eyes as Morpheus strokes down your spine.

“You have resisted Desire. There are only a few mortals and immortals who have accomplished such a feat,” Morpheus replies, and you feel a little better. He presses his forehead against yours, and you allow yourself a moment of peace, breathing in the same air.

You seem more interesting than Dream’s previous lovers. Then again, there are so many I always forget them.” You want to curse Desire for reminding you of your status. It goes without explanation that you’re not the first person to have his heart. You would never wish for Morpheus to be lonely, to remain alone as his endless existence continues, but the words still sting. After all, what is a mortal life to an immortal? How long will it take before he forgets you, before he no longer remembers the sound of your voice or the color of your eyes?

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Morpheus strokes his thumb over your wet cheeks.

Morpheus says your name with such tenderness and concern it only makes you spill more tears.

“After I am gone, please don’t forget me.” Is it presumptuous to demand this of him? You hope that you didn’t upset him.

“My love, I will carry you with me for all eternity. You are etched into my soul,” Morpheus vows, before capturing your lips in a soft kiss, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

You love him. He loves you. That’s all that matters.

#the sandman #sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless #my writing #my sandman fics

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tsumoren · 1 year

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Hi hi hi stares.. can you do a tsukasa suou x gn reader where Tsukasa has a silly crush on the reader since yk they're perfect n all, and they sometimes like to drop off sweets(candy, that Tsukasa likes)(and sometimes baked goods from the bakery they work at) then one day after the reader gives out sweets n baked goods, they went out to grab something) then Arashi asked everyone's opinions about the sweets/baked goods they bring in, so when it was Tsukasa's turn, they said " the baked goods are delicious! And the candies are sweet.. just like the person who made it. . ." He was supposed to mutter it to theirselves trailing off, but no! The entire knights group heard it and was like "God you have a crush on [Name]?!!" But tsukasa denied it, but it kept going and going till Tsukasa accepted the fact that they have a crush on the reader, one of the knight members gave tsukasa a nice concept where tsukasa leaves out anonymous letters complimenting the reader in secret, they can always drop it off to the bakery they work at, so they do, basically reader gets lovemail dumped, then they ask who keeps giving them letters?? So they asked one of the people who work there and ask who, but the workers had no idea and just said that they had red hair and purple eyes, then reader just sighed and asked them to ask for their name next time so they can thank them, so one day while tsukasa entered ready to drop of a letter, the worker did ask what was their name, but tsukasa actually said their name bc they're a bozo !! So after dropping off the letter, going to the practice room, dude noticed that "Oh my god why did I give them my name?! I don't even know what they're gonna do with it!!" Then the knights members tease him for that!! Then when the worker did a name drop that tsukasa was the one who gave it reader was blushing and stuff, so when they did came in the practice room the next day, they ask the members if they could leave the practice room(or anywhere) for awhile since they wanna talk to Tsukasa in private, they leave then reader asks "yo were you the one writing them letters." Then tsukasa was like 'God I blew my cover' but they were looking down and blushed like an idiot, then nodded, then the reader says "thank you tsukasa.. I actually feel the same way." Then they hug sorry if it's too specific!! [Extra if the other knight members barge in as if they were listening to the conversation lol]

PRETTY U !

SUMMARY. in which the rest of knights help tsukasa with his ( bigger than little ) crush on the cute cafe worker.

FEATURING. tsukasa suou

NOTES. lowercase, reader is gn, tsukasa has a mini crisis, no real warnings just sillies being silly, potential ooc

HI ANON!! i love this idea it's so silly, i had to shorten it a little bit so it wouldn't drag out for too long, but i hope you enjoy it all the same!

there's a lot of things that are regarded as “common sense” in this world.

things like the sky is blue, the grass is green, the sun makes everything warm, tsukasa suou is in for it the next time he visits your cafe.

what started off as an off-time visit became a regular occurrence. because it's always nice and quiet when he comes in, and the pastries are delicious, and not because his mood instantly rises whenever he sees you smiling behind the counter with your white hat and peach shaped pin and sparkling eyes that makes his heart skip a beat.

it was all arashi’s fault. she was the one who suggested this idea, why tsukasa went along with it, he doesn't know. it’s stupid, it’s childish, and it is so not like him in any way. but it is the better alternative to knights’ neverending taunts and teases about his crush on you.

he breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t see you behind the counter today, and is instead greeted by the face of one of your coworkers. in neat and pretty print, the name ‘haruka’ reads across the decorated name tag. “another letter?” she leans over with a knowing grin.

“uh—yeah,” tsukasa fumbles through the pockets of his back and hands the sealed envelope across the baked displays. “i also brought a—”

“suou!” you greet him with a smile like always, waving from behind the back walls with empty trays in your arms, “i didn’t know you were visiting today. you can go ahead and sit anywhere, i’ll be right with you.”

in truth, he wasn’t really here to buy anything, but when you beam at him so nicely—he can’t really bring it in himself to say no.

“hey, you’ve got another letter by the way!” haruka waves the letter between her two fingers, and tsukasa swears his heart has just left his body. surely this wasn’t happening now, when he was standing right there in front of you?

“huh?” you stare dumbfounded at the envelope, catching it clumsily on the trays when she tosses it in your direction. “really? i thought i told you they could stop sending them? i wouldn't want to lead anybody on like that...”

you look almost sad when you pick up the letter in your own hand—like you don't want to open it, like you feel bad for whoever the sender may be. and that thought alone makes tsukasa want to disappear off the face of the world forever.

did you not like the letters? was he actually being a bother this entire time? did you already have feelings for somebody else? did you already have a partner of your own and he was sending the most cheesy poems and paragraphs detailing his affections to someone who was not romantically available?

your coworker rolls her eyes, “come on, weren’t you the one gushing and squealing at the last one that came in? besides this time you’re actually here to—”

“actually—!” tsukasa quickly interrupts the conversation before any more can be said. “i actually have to go, like, right now. rehearsal starts in a few minutes, and i really shouldn’t be late.” he bows apologetically and swiftly makes his way towards the door, trying his best to wave as naturally as possible and ignore the subtle shake in his arms.

“i’ll come by again tomorrow, that’s a promise!”

arashi tries her best to hide her disappointment when tsukasa finally tells her the full story. keyword: tries. because as understanding as arashi is with these kinds of things, it hurts to hear that tsukasa suou had the most golden opportunity—and he did not take it.

by contrast, izumi is unimpressed with this news, holding a hand to his forehead and sighing dramatically with a shake of his head. tsukasa almost wants to chuck his water bottle and hit him square in the face. almost.

“well,” arashi begins, crossing her arms and sends a sympathetic smile towards tsukasa, “there is always next time.”

“there might not be one if he keeps acting this way.”

“shut up! i’ll be perfectly fine!”

the truth—tsukasa suou is not fine. because if there is a god, then it must be having the time of it’s life making his own as miserable as possible.

there comes a short knock at the door, which turns some of the members’ heads, because who in the world knocks on the practice doors? when you slowly crack open the large door and peak your head inside tsukasa swears his chest is about to explode.

“so sorry if i’m interrupting!” you’re quick to apologize, but then you point to tsukasa, “can i actually borrow suou for a second? it won’t be long, i promise!”

he doesn’t even have the time to say anything before he is very rudely shoved outside of the practice room. there's a short second before the door closes, and tsukasa shoots the rest of the members a glare before turning his attention back to you.

“i apologize for their behavior,” he smiles weakly, following you down the hallway. you don’t really know where you're going, but anywhere with a little bit more privacy is better than directly outside where everyone else could probably hear you. “sometimes they get—”

“haruka told me you were the one sending the letters!” you suddenly blurt out of nowhere, cheeks heating up from the sudden exclamation. “she told me after you left, because you seemed really tense when you dropped by and i was worried about you.”

tsukasa is not listening to a single word you're saying. everything is going in one ear and coming straight out of the other. there's a million thoughts running through his mind, and every single one of them is a different variation stemming from ‘god they probably think i’m a total creep.’

but, when he finally snaps out of his ruminating mind, you're standing right in front of him still—with a hand nervously scratching the side of your cheek and eyes that are too shy to meet his own. quietly, in an almost whisper-like tone, tsukasa admits to everything.

that he was the one leaving the letters, that he specifically asked to be anonymous all this time, that he was too cowardly to confess to you directly and that this was the next best option, that it was actually not even his idea at all.

he’s rambling again, and before he can even process it, he feels a pair of lips pressed against the side of his cheek, freezing him in the middle of his sentence.

“you’re really cute like this, suou,” you laugh at him softly, “don’t worry, i like that about you. i like a lot of things about you.”

“huh?” tsukasa stands there dumbfounded in disbelief. what just happened? is this real life? he's not dreaming, is he? all words fail him as he looks at the knowing grin on your face. when did you get so smug, he wonders. “you mean, you also?”

“i'll see you tomorrow, okay?” you press a finger against your lips, almost as if you’d just told him a secret. “remember, you promised!”

before tsukasa can even say anything, you’re already gone. and he is once again stood there like an idiot caught in the rain.

that’s right, he did promise—didn’t he?

#💌 tsumoren !#ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #tsukasa suou #tsukasa suou x reader

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the-traveling-poet · 4 months

Note

Hi! :D

Do you mind if I request headcanons for Erwin as a dad to a preferably fem reader (can be gn tho)

Headcannon no. 7

═══════════════════════════════════════

Father Figure pt.2

(A/N: Ofc anon! I haven’t had an Erwin request in so long that I forgot to even go back and fix up past posts to fit my blog’s current theme better, so thanks for the reminder lmao. Enjoy~)

There was no doubt you were a daddy’s girl. From for first visit to HQ, to your more recent visits, it was immediately and widely known; You were the newly appointed Commander’s daughter.

Not only did your appearance make that obvious, sharing in his blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, but the very air you carried into every room you occupied had everyone certain of this fact.

For a time, until you were around halfway through your adolescence, you’d stayed away from your father’s profession. But finding nothing entertaining enough among the lives of fellow citizens around you, nor thought provoking enough for your taste, you’d make the choice on your own to join your father.’s side in the Corps.

At first, he’d been hesitant to accept you into the Scouting Corps, and only later would you realize this was out of fear for losing you like he had your mother. But after some time, and late night talks with him in his office, he’d finally relented; you would join them in their exploration for information beyond the walls.

For a time, he chose not to play favorites, and you remained a cadet under a squad he had command over. But after only a short time within the ranks, and much to the speculation of favoritism from fellow branch officers, you quickly rose up from cadet to captain, and from captain to section commander at Erwin’s side.

He of course was quick to dispel such rumors, and was oh so, so proud to see you climbing the rank ladder so swiftly.

You were his daughter, after all. Of course you would excel quickly.

Once talk died down of Erwin choosing his elites from personal preference, something that was never true to begin with, word began to spread of not only your likeness to your father with intellect and integrity within meetings you would frequently attend, but also while out on the field.

Not only were you willing to lay down your life for the future cause, but you were clever. Cunningly so. And incredibly dangerous with a blade.

The amount of times you’d swindled a man out of coin for the Survery Corp’s budget simply by speaking overly formally and confusing the hell out of high ranking military personnel’s were beyond count.

And honestly, Erwin couldn’t have been more proud.

He believed stealing was wrong, of course, but was this really stealing if they offered coin so freely after hardly understanding a word his daughter’s highly educated mind spoke?

Of course, he was proud of you for far more than your ability to sway decisions into your favor, thought you’d learned it from him.

He was proud also of your resolve, and your underlying devotion to every cause you dedicated your heart to. Which, frankly, with your spacious heart, was displayed often.

On a lighter note though, we all know Erwin is a total dad. I mean your typical suburban father figure who cracked the corniest jokes. So of course, as his daughter, you would get a whole other side to his personality than most did.

While his rules might be strict at times, out of fear for losing you on the battlefield, they were most strict when it came to the matter of your personal life.

“I understand the Captains are going out for a drink tonight in celebration, but I expect you to be back at base by 10pm. And no boys, you hear? I’ve already had a chat with Hange and Levi to keep an eye on you.”

Besides losing to the titans and losing valuable information, his greatest fear by far was to see you suffer in any way relating to the way he had. Whether that be romantically, or through losing as much as he had in his past.

He wanted nothing but the best for you, something he only had for the brief time he still had his parents and wife around to keep him company and to love on.

Now that they were gone, he knew he would not waste a single second of his time with you in fear that you could face what he had.

Beyond his desire to reach the Jeager’s basement in Shiganshina, was his desire to protect and provide for his only living kin; you.

Vividly you remembered the promise he had made you as a child; “One day, I will provide a free world, all for you to explore and love your fullest in. And I’ll be with you, all the way.”

And all the way up until the bitter end, he held true his promise to you. Despite the loss falling all around you, he had indeed provided a way in which for you to explore the open word around you. He had been right, after all; Paradis was not alone.

With his spirit guiding you forward, you did what the both of you had always dreamed of doing, once the war had finally come to an end; exploring the vast world around you with a heart lightened of all burden.

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rufousnmacska · 1 year

Note

can you write a passage where Dorian came to the wastes and Manon is informed that twins were born in one of the families (for the first time since the witch kingdom was reborn)? 💙

Hi anon! This is going to be quick and I hope it’s what you were looking for!

Thanks to @itach-i for talking this through! Please excuse any typos or mistakes 🥰

***

Word of the twin’s birth spread like fire through the Witch Kingdom. Manon had insisted the mother-to-be stay in her keep and be attended by the best healers in order to maintain some semblance of privacy. But news could never be held for long. Especially when it was news of this magnitude.

There had been some witchlings born since the war, but to Crochans, the clan unaffected by Queen Rhiannon’s curse. The witch who now held two witchlings in her arms was a Blackbeak, the first Ironteeth witch to give birth on these lands for hundreds of years. That she’d bore twins was a secondary source of awe and celebration.

Manon had visited the witch only briefly, feeling uncomfortable when she’d been asked to bless the witchlings. As if she were the Three-Faced Goddess herself. She was merely the queen.

Merely, because she often caught herself feeling out of her element in ruling. She longed for the simplicity of battle, without the actual carnage that came with it. Day in and day out of city planning, crop reports, settling meaningless disputes between witches… she had no patience for it or for the balancing act of managing so many personalities.

“How do you do it?” she asked Dorian that evening. He was visiting under the pretense of establishing some sort of treaty between their kingdoms. But the treaty had been signed within twenty minutes of his arrival.

He laughed quietly, dipping his spoon into the steaming bowl of stew. “I delegate as much as I can. If I could delegate everything and spend my time lounging and drinking, I would.”

Now Manon laughed. “That sounds exactly like you.” Growing serious, she added, “I do delegate, but everything here is so new that even with Petrah and Bronwen to help, it all ends up back on my desk.”

“How are the witchlings?” he asked, apparently ready to change the subject.

“Fine at the last report. Both healthy. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Their arrival should help ease some of the tension. With the curse officially broken, witches can feel free to truly settle here. Perhaps, start families.”

Manon eyed him. “I guess so. Why are you so concerned?”

He shrugged. “It just eases the pressure for you.”

He went back to eating but Manon wasn’t convinced. Dorian had reacted strangely to the news of the births. She would have expected some mild happiness at the news of a stranger having twins, even with the curse looming over them. But he’d been truly excited. Almost as excited as he’d been when Yrene had given birth last year.

“What’s going on?” she asked, taking hold of his hand and forcing him to look at her.

Dorian took a breath, trying to calm his nerves.

“When I heard the witchlings survived, I couldn’t help but wonder if…” He trailed off, his face a portrait of hope, his eyes shining brightly.

“You wondered if I might want to try for an heir?” she finished for him.

He smiled, a silly looking grin, and brushed his hand through his hair. “I did.”

She hated when he did that. That grin and ruffled hair and blue eyes. It always made her heart stutter.

“I’m only telling you this because we promised to never hide anything,” he explained. “If you aren’t ready, or, or…” he paused before pushing on, “or would rather choose a different father, I would understand.”

Manon smirked. “You’d understand if I wanted a witchling with some random human male and not you?”

He glared at her as her smile grew wicked with teasing.

“I would not understand but I would step aside for you to make your own choices,” Dorian said through gritted teeth.

Standing and moving around the table to sit in his lap, Manon pushed his curls back down so they were no longer sticking up and distracting her.

“Thank you, princeling,” she said, kissing his cheek. “My choice is you. I made it a long time ago and I’m sticking by it.” He laughed and squeezed her waist. “But I’m not ready for that yet.”

Squeezing her tighter, Dorian tucked his head under her hair and kissed her neck. “I’m not ready either, witchling. But it’s nice to know that when we are, we won’t have to worry about any curses.”

The kiss turned into more and their dinner was forgotten.

When Dorian left for Adarlan the next morning, their goodbye felt different. Weighty in a way she’d never sensed before. They’d made a promise to each other last night, one that hadn’t caused any fear or worry to bloom in her chest. Instead, she felt calm. Part of a team.

She wondered if this was what marriage felt like?

Dorian was already flying away when the thought popped into her head. Maybe when she visited him next month, she’d ask him.

💙💛💙💛💙💛

#manorian #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #my writing #anon art

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preciouslandmermaid · 2 years

Text

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - part 9

Note: Thank you to everyone who has been so UNREASONABLY patient for this update. I went on vacation and then immediately went back to work and had approximately zero downtime and then I started hyperfixating on The Sandman. Also, a wonderful anon made a playlist for this fic! Listen to it here (spotify)

Warnings/Tags: Explicit language

Synopsis: You deal with the colossal explosion of your dad’s visit and discover how deep the shrapnel goes.

You’re starting to trust that friendship means letting someone see fallout and hoping they don’t flinch.

(Read on Ao3) |||| (Masterlist)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve got a migraine from Hell the next morning. It felt like someone stuck a tube up your nose and filled your cranium with shards of glass and that were also on fire. You medicated with caffeine and Excedrin and sequestered yourself into the back of the kitchen.

You would be absolutely miserable if you had to do front of house today. It had nothing to do with the subtle, bubbling fear that your dad would show up again. There was plenty to do. And if Dani, Ted, or Leslie noticed your mood—they were gracious enough not to mention it. Your phone remained quiet on your desk as if the Universe knew you were in a piss-poor mood. Not even Carmy texted you.

Which was fine. It was! You were both busy with your bullshit. It was day two of your opening. You had custom orders to process, and invoices, and supplies to replenish. Your day started well before your trilling alarm and ended only when you closed your eyes at night. You knew his daily life wasn’t chill or easy. He walked around, rumpled with exhaustion and grief, and carried a duffel bag of emotional baggage over his shoulder.

But – okay, okay – fine – maybe you were expecting something after yesterday. A check-in? A stupid meme? Something, anything, that meant everything was still cool between you two after you dumped all your daddy issues onto him. You scrubbed your hands over your face with a quiet groan, watching the stars dance before your eyelids. You couldn’t text him first. What would you say? It’s not like he needed to know how you were. You could just move past it naturally. Let time erode the awkwardness and return to the tentative friendship shared between you.

You folded the yellow receipt for the delivery of your walk-in fridge into an origami frog. The meditative nature of carefully folding helped to ease your pounding head and anxious thoughts. You smiled fondly at the little creature and balanced it upon your filing cabinet.

“Look after the office while I’m gone.” You said to it before snatching your apron from the wall and joining Ted and Dani in the kitchen.

Shortly before closing, you hefted a heavy garbage bag over your shoulder and dumped it into the bin in the alley with a grunt. The flies buzzed noisily, disturbed by your action, and the rank smell of literal hot garbage forced your throat to gag. You wiped your palms together and grimaced. The less glamorous aspects to business ownership, you supposed.

A car door slammed behind you, followed by your name, and you spun—heart racing—to see your dad stalking toward you. He wore a bright, blue polo shirt and beige khakis and shiny brown loafers. He was the perfect picture of a middle-aged, middle-class ordinary man. However, his expression was unlike any other you’d seen before. Granted, your catalog of dad-expressions were extremely limited and muddled over time. You folded your arms across your chest. His perfect little family wasn’t with him. You wondered where he left them. The hotel? The zoo? Anything was possible with someone as flighty and irresponsible as your dad. Your breath stuttered in your chest.

“I need to talk to you about last night.” He said sternly, settling his hands on his hips, the face of his silver watch flashed in the hot, June sun.

“Are you seriously this pissed just because I didn’t call you for dinner?”

“No, not that.” He shook his head. “I’m referring to the two goons you sent to the hotel. They bullied me. Told me not to speak to you!” He pointed to his clean-shaven cheek, “One of them assaulted me! He was about this tall—” He gestured, “—I need his contact information so I can press charges. I assume you have it on hand since they were adamant about your friendship.”

Your brow furrowed. Did your dad lose a few screws on his drive over? For starters, he appeared completely fine. No bruises, no blood, no obvious signs of assault. Secondly, you had no idea who he was even talking about. Goons? You’d snort with laughter over the word if you weren’t so flabbergasted by his accusations. The only person who knew your dad visited was Carmy…but he didn’t…he couldn’t have…done anything…right? If you were to trust your dad’s description, Carmy wasn’t that tall, and it couldn’t be Richie.

Actually, it could be Richie. That actually sounded feasible. Shit. Did Richie seriously punch your dad?

He kept talking. “Now, I’m willing to put this whole unpleasant business behind us, once the person is charged, and we can celebrate your opening – as a family – tonight or tomorrow.”

You scoffed, throat tightening, and anger burning low in your gut, “I’m sorry, did you just say family?”

“Yes, kiddo. That’s what we are.” He smiled with perfect, straight teeth. “Now, I know I haven’t been around much but—”

“Much?!” You cut in, astonished at the gall of him, “You weren’t around at all!”

He sighed, eyes pleading. “I know, but I’m trying.”

“Why?” You stepped forward with fingertips digging into your arms. “Why now? After all this time?”

“The boys need a good role model.”

Your anger erupted from smoldering to supernova. “Stop!” You laughed, throwing your hands up, “Stop bringing your fucking kids into this! They aren’t pawns on a fucking chessboard. Just be honest with me—you couldn’t be honest with mom—and you abandoned me—abandoned us—so I’m asking you to do something good for once in your fucking life and be honest!

“Why the FUCK are you here?”

His gaze hardened, “Now, honey, I understand you’re upset, but that is no way to your father.”

A rogue fly buzzed around your head. All the pain inside leaked like a corrupted, infected wound. You trembled with it. You wanted to scream until your throat went raw. Dozens of birthdays rolled out before you with fragile hope that he’d walk through the door. A thousand holidays where the mailbox was empty – no letters or cards from him. A flipbook of skinned knees, and wiggly teeth, and listening to your mom weep in the kitchen when she thought you had already gone to bed. A childhood of acting Perfect because you thought that’s what you needed to do bring him back.

Then, as you got older, you endeavored for perfection to lessen the burden of your existence on your mom. Because how could she possibly heal with the constant reminder of him by her knees? How could she focus on her career if she was busy meeting your principal or trying to help you with homework? You didn’t want to upset her life. You made yourself small, and quiet, like a ghost in your big house in Cincinnati. Until your grandfather rescued you.

He gave you warmth, and gentleness, and focused attention you were uncertain you deserved. He practiced your multiplication tables with you over the phone. He sprayed you with the cold hose while he watered the garden. He winked at you across the dinner table whenever grandma said something amusing. He pulled you from the sidelines of your life and brought you onto the stage.

“You’re not my father.” You said, choking down a sob. “My father died a few months ago. You saw the interview about him, didn’t you?” You blinked away your tears. For a moment, your dad was stunned and speechless, his eyes glassy.

“You weren’t there.” You pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You weren’t there to – to help me when I fell down. When – when I scraped my knees or – or -- when a boy in third grade I had ugly teeth. You missed every single birthday and I wished for you!”

The tears flooded your lower lashes and spilled down your cheeks, tasting like absolution on the corners of your trembling lips.

“Do you have any idea how that feels? To be ten years old and while other kids were wishing for Nintendo’s and ponies – I was sitting there wishing for my dad to come home.” You inhaled raggedly. “And you never came back. It was like I stopped existing for you. It was like I didn’t matter. You were my hero.”

“So, you don’t get to stand here – a-and act like we’re a family or that we have any sort of relationship because we don’t. Okay? We don’t. You could have called! And don’t try to say you couldn’t or that Mom wouldn’t let you—because—"

You sniffled, “A few years ago, Mom told me that you used to call her, but it was only for money. It was never to talk to me.” Somewhere around the six-year mark of their separation, your Mom said she blocked his number, and rerouted any of his calls to her lawyer. It broke her heart, she said, to answer that phone and foolishly hope he’d ask for you.

The tendons in his neck flared, “I fell on hard times…once or twice.” He admitted quietly. “I’m trying, sweetie, I’m trying to—"

You blurted, “Why are you here?!”

“I regret how things ended between your mother and I.” He clasped his hands together, “You must believe me about that. I regret missing your childhood.”

You pressed your tear-stained lips together. “You missed all of it, dad. You missed everything.”

“I know.” He nodded, “I know.”

You felt a blade against your skin at the question in the back of your mind. You didn’t want to ask this. It was going to cut you open and flay you alive if you did. But, you had to know the truth. Did your dad actually have regrets? Or was this another ploy? Was it another sob-story to trap you into writing a check like your Mom? Your lips quivered and you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, holding yourself together, and wishing—with your whole heart—that your instincts would be proved false.

You asked softly, “Are you here for money?”

He averted your eyes, lips thinning.

“Are you here for money?” You repeated, feeling ice crawl over your limbs, numbing them. “I won’t have a relationship with you built on dishonesty, dad. Are you here for money?”

“Marilyn was laid off.” He said with difficulty, “and I – they cut my hours, you know, they’ve been outsourcing everything 'cause it’s cheaper overseas! It’s ruining the economy.”

Your lips twitched with a disbelieving smile and stayed quiet. Sometimes, the best offense was letting your opponent spill their own guts.

“I want to be in your life and yes – yes I – we could use your help.” He said, “I’m not so prideful that I can’t admit when I need help.”

“What do you say, huh? The bakery closes soon, doesn’t it? We can go get pancakes. You still – you still like pancakes, don’t you?” He smiled weakly, “And we can talk. We can talk this whole thing through. We can start over. We can be a family.”

The child-version of you, quiet and vulnerable, the little girl who thought her dad put the stars in the sky wanted so badly to say yes. You wrapped your arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Because, if you say yes, there was only one way this story goes, and it ends in heartbreak and disappointment. Your mom loaned your dad thousands of dollars over the years to bail him out of bad investments, and gambling debts, and overall poor life choices.

Maybe she did it because she loved him. Maybe she did it because you still loved him. He always thanked her once the check cleared, and they never spoke again until he needed her. You couldn’t follow that same path. You would break the cycle and your own heart. You closed your eyes briefly, tears overfilling, and pursed your lips.

“Kiddo?”

You opened your eyes to see your dad’s hopeful face. He expected you to say yes. But you were your grandfather’s child. You were made of silver cufflinks and white roses, delicate origami, and crossword puzzles. You imagined his warm, soft hands squeezing your shoulders. ‘Grow up, get over it,’ You suddenly remembered the second half of his favorite phrase, ‘There are greener pastures over the hill.’ He was right. You had a whole, bright, and beautiful field of the future laid out before you.

“The answer is no.” You said, firm and clear. “And don’t come back here again.”

You added, “Please.”

He called your name when you walked away, but the heavy door closed behind you, and he did not try to follow you or start slamming his fist on the door. You weren’t sure how to feel about that. He never fought for you as a kid. He wouldn’t fight for you now. You battled the warring emotions inside your chest and relaxed your spine against the warm metal door.

You flattened your palms over your face, shoulders trembling, and cried over your dad for the second time today.

“Boss?” Ted’s concerned voice, resonate and warm, “You okay?”

“Nah.” You chuckled wetly, “I’m fucking awful, actually.”

Ted seemed at a loss for words, then he brightened, “Oh! Well – someone from the Beef came by and dropped lunch off. Do you want some? Can’t cry on an empty stomach that’s what I always say.”

You swiped at your tears with your knuckles, “W-what?”

Who from the Beef? And why? Could it have been Carmy? Or Marcus? How many surprises would this day throw at you?

“Yeah!” Ted smiled. “It’s chicken.”

You numbly followed Ted into your office where a Styrofoam container waited at your desk. Someone had written your name on a piece of neon green tape and affixed it to the front. You sank into your chair and lifted the top, steam wafted around your fingers, and condensation dripped from the inside of container. It smelled incredible and fragrant with notes of lemon and butter and garlic, you recognized the dish as lemon chicken piccata.

Ted smiled down at you, clapping your shoulder kindly, “Take your time, Boss. Everyone deserves a break.”

He left shortly thereafter, and you stabbed the included plastic fork into the dish. Did Carmy make this? It fell apart in your mouth, wonderfully juicy, and rich with herbs and tangy lemon. You choked back your laughter to stop yourself from, you know, actually choking. A fresh wellspring of tears brightened your eyes. Your stomach grumbled appreciatively, reminding you of your hunger, your humanity. You ate several bites, grinning, letting the flavors overtake your tongue and warm you from the inside out.

You reached for your phone and sent a single, simple text to him.

‘IDK who made this chicken but it’s fire. Thank you.’ You included a few flame emojis to embellish the message.

‘Thanks, Chef.’

‘Was it you?’

His response didn’t arrive until a few minutes later. You didn’t mind. It gave you time to eat.

‘Yeah, it was.’ Followed by a quick, ‘I’m glad you like it.’

Your heart flipped inside your chest. He made it for you. Okay, you could get technical and say he made it for everyone at the Rookie Cookie, but—he took time out of his busy day to send someone over with lunch. Because…because…why? You paused, worrying your lower lip between your teeth, lingering with the taste of his food. Because you were friends? Because he knew your dad was in town and he saw how wrecked it made you?

You smiled, unable to resist teasing him, ‘I guess that time at NOMA paid off, huh?’

‘Guess so.’

You set your phone back down onto your desk and were intent on finishing the meal before it got cold. Your phone buzzed again, surprising you, and you tapped the front screen to reveal the message waiting.

‘It’s a family recipe.’

You leaned back into your desk chair, breath caught in a snare, as the implications rolled across your mind like fresh snow. It wasn’t just about the food. It was about what it represented. He didn’t just throw together a sandwich. He gave you a piece of his family, his past, almost like…like how you gave him a piece of yours (just with less crying and destruction of hotel business cards).

Your knee bounced, checking the time, and counting backward inside your head. Generally, your bakery closed around the time The Beef closed for lunch to prep for dinner. Now, maybe it was the adrenaline waning from your tense, soul-ripping conversation with your dad. Or maybe it was this sweet, moving gesture of a family recipe on your desk. But you buzzed with restlessness and a hidden, quiet desire to see him.

He's across the street. You drummed your fingers on your desk. He told you he wouldn’t mind if you came around. You shoveled the final bite into your mouth and unlaced your apron.

“Dani, heading out! You’re in charge!” You shouted before leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The front door of the Beef is closed with their dinner hours posted. You didn’t hesitate and your sneakers scuffed against the sidewalk at your short-stop. You circled around to the back. All the smokers were – surprise! – smoking. Richie and Tina sat on the wooden benches, Ebra’s arms hung over the staircase metal railing, and Carmy stood nearby everyone with his hand on his hips and back to you.

Ebrahim noticed you first, “Carmy! Your girlfriend is here!” He announced with an excited smile.

Carmy half-turned just in time for you to throw your arms around his shoulders in an abrupt embrace.

“Hey-o!” Richie shouted, laughing.

He was comfortingly warm, solid, and unmoving in your grasp. Chest-to-chest, you could feel his heartbeat, and the whisper of his breath on your neck. His curly hair brushed against the side of your face – painfully familiar and soft. You squeezed him tightly. He didn’t reciprocate the hug, but that hardly mattered.

You said, “I heard you met my dad,” before puling away and playfully punching his shoulder.

His neck flushed and he scratched the side of his nose with his thumb. “Shit, uh, yeah – you heard about that, huh?” Carmy looked embarrassed. Whether it was from the hug, or being found out, you didn’t know and weren’t going to waste time asking. You had someone else you needed to thank.

“That’s not all.” You took a small step toward Richie. “I also heard you punched my dad.”

You grabbed Richie’s face between your palms and you’re grateful that he’s sitting down because otherwise the height difference would make this impossible. His eyes widened, but he doesn’t squirm away. You planted a kiss to each grizzled cheek; his short beard tickled your lips. Carmy coughed and turned his face away.

“Thank you.” You said, earnest and warm, “Seriously.”

Richie grinned between your hands, “Ah – shit. Anytime, sweetheart.”

Tina piped up, “What? Your dad some kind of shithead?”

You laughed, “The worst kind of shithead. The kind who doesn’t speak to his daughter for two decades and then turns up asking for money.”

Ebrahim whistled lowly behind you. “What a shit.”

You shrugged, “It’s over now.”

“Next time he’s around, you tell me.” Ebra said, tapping his chest with two fingers, “I do more than little bitch slap from Richie.”

“Hey! Fuck you!” Richie shouted at him.

Ebra laughed, “Fuck you!” He opened the back door and Richie followed him inside with good-natured threats of ‘showing Ebra how it happened’. You slid your hands into the back pockets of your jeans and sighed, though a smile lingered at your mouth, and your eyes went to Carmy as if drawn by magnetic force. Tina took a long drag of her cigarette and crossed her legs, watching you like a soap opera. You considered waiting for her to finish her cigarette before talking to Carmy, but time is precious, and you’re bursting at the seams with fondness.

Because no one stood up for you like that before. Richie risked possible arrest (but that was Richie). It was about Carmy using his limited hours in his day to do something for you. He went to the hotel. He confronted your dad. Although you didn’t know what was said, you got the essence, and didn’t need anything else. He deviated from his daily routine and responsibility because you were hurting.

Carmy was quickly becoming your favorite person.

“I can’t believe you did that.” You said to him.

“Yeah, me either.” He searched your face, something soft and vulnerable in the lines of his shoulders, and in the exhaustion of his clear eyes, “You pissed?”

“A little, yeah.” You smiled, “I hate it when people stick their nose in my business, remember?”

“Yeah.” He smiled wryly, “Yeah, I know.”

“But…um…” You licked your lips, “The rules are a little different for friends…so…” A golden, warm light spilled through the fractures in your heart. He watched you with quiet interest, the ember of his cigarette burning dangerously close to the filer, and you felt…you felt seen. You ballooned with joy and appreciation.

“Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll get over it.” You said.

His eyebrows lifted, “Yeah?” He asked softly. You bit your lower lip and offered him a small nod.

Tina snickered, snubbing her cigarette out on the edge of the bench before standing. “Oh, you’ve got your hands full with this one, loquita.”

She patted your shoulder before ascending the steps and disappearing into the Beef.

In the moment of the door opening, you heard Richie call out, “T! Settle this bet for us!” Your smiled widened. You loved this little group of weirdos. Your chaotic, loud neighbors across the street – what would you do without them?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy tossed his cigarette before it could burn his fingers. You stood inches away – a breath away – and all he could feel was your arms around him. His skin tingled. He wanted to rewind time. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and bury his nose into the crook of your shoulder. But he froze, speechless and confused.

Everything happened too fast including how you kissed Richie’s cheeks and his strangled reaction to it. You lingered, not leaving, though you both knew you’d have to. He needed to prep for dinner. You had to finish closing.

He selfishly drank in the sight of you, a little pleased that tears weren’t glistening in your eyes and appreciating how your smile illuminated the warmth in your eyes. You were so goddamn incredible. He sent Ebra to deliver your lunch with the vain hope that the food could say what he couldn’t. You brought him a gentle, lulling sense of peace, of comfort. You were his only friend. He didn’t want to lose that – lose you – and he didn’t want you to be stressed, or sad, or heartbroken like you were yesterday.

“You know, uh,” He cleared his throat nervously, “He’s missing out.”

You flashed that brilliant, wonderful smile at him. It felt warmer than the sun. “Mhm. I know.”

“For the record, just because Richie will run with – uh – with it. He slapped him. He didn’t punch him.” Carmy said. You moved imperceptibly closer, and your fingertips grazed against his, not quite holding his hand but…considering it. His veins illuminated, heart skipping and running from him, as wild as a motorcycle through Manhattan. Carmy exhaled slowly, savoring the passing touch, and peering down at you with a clench in his chest that reminded him of a panic attack.

“Ah,” You shook your head, “It’s alright, I’ll give him this one.” You dropped your hand away from his and though the summer air was humid and sweltering—it felt cold in the absence of your touch. He drummed his bereft fingertips against his leg.

“Hm.” His lips twitched into a gentle smile. “Be prepared to not hear the end of it.”

You fell into a comfortable sense of semi-silence as Chicago buzzed with vibrant life around you. He thought about offering you a cigarette so you would stay. His gaze flickered up to the receiving door, considering the time left, and how he could make it stretch. Why did it always feel like he was running out of time with you? He should be focused on prep. On dinner. But he wanted to linger and bask in the light of your smile.

“I better head back.” You said, likely noticing his attention, and jumping on his train of thought.

“W-wa-“ He almost said wait. Instead, he said, “W-well yeah. Me too.”

“Thanks again.” You muttered tenderly before stepping away.

His forehead creased, “For what? You – you never said. I mean I didn’t punch your dad.”

“For…trying to help?” You shrugged a little, tucking your hands into your pockets again and looking a little self-conscious for the first time. “For not expecting me to handle it alone, I guess? I don’t know. It’s um – uh – it’s been awhile since someone…anyone, really…had my back...and it’s nice.”

You made a screwed-up face, “Annoying. But nice.”

“Nice, huh?” He ducked his head away from your gaze, “That’s an improvement from calling me fucking asshole.”

“Yeah, well, I got a soft-spot for idiots in white t-shirts.” You teased, “Someday I’ll figure out how you manage to keep that shit so pristine.”

Carmy tugged the lace of his blue apron, “Uniform.”

The sound of your laughter softened the edges of the sharp world. “Ok, smartass. I’m outta here.” You said, taking a step backward, and offered him a farewell smile to his nod before walking away. He touched the cold railing near the stairs and his chest pulled at the sight of you disappearing around the brick corner. He swallowed and pressed his lips together. He’d see you again soon.

But goodbyes shouldn’t feel this weird between friends, should they?

#the bear fic #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #fic: nothings gonna hurt you baby #carmen berzatto x reader

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