#danny ramirez characters

[flowersforbucky]

means i care

joaquín torres x reader

"You were dead, Joaquín. Your heart wasn't beating when I pulled you from that water."

He grins, taking your hand in his. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Well, it’s beating now. Because of you. But what’s new? My heart always beats for you.”

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, idiots in love, pining, enhanced!reader with energy manipulation powers, canon level injuries, some angst, fluff, no use of y/n, reader has she/her pronouns, pov switches

☆☆☆☆☆☆

“You know, if we don't succeed here, we'll be looking at World War III. I could use a little extra good luck. If you know what I'm sayin’.”

You shift your gaze from the Indian Ocean outside of the jet's window to the man sitting beside you. At first, you question whether or not you heard him correctly. Then, you see the sly smirk on his lips and the glimmer of mischief in his brown eyes and you realize that you had, in fact, heard him correctly.

If you had any doubt about what he meant by a little extra good luck, the look on his face makes it abundantly clear.

Your eyes flicker to his lips for a split-second before you look back out to the endless expanse of blue water surrounding you. God knows that if you stare at him for a moment too long, you might just be weak enough to give in.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come dangerously close.

“Good luck, huh? I hope you’ve got a four-leaf clover or a rabbit’s foot stashed somewhere in that suit of yours, then.”

He laughs. The sound fills the jet and for a second, you forget where you are and what all is on the line.

“A thousand four-leaf clovers wouldn’t give me a fraction of the good luck that I’d get from a kis—”

“Landing in five!” Sam calls, effectively breaking the tension in the air. You doubt that it was intentional, but you’re thankful for the interruption nonetheless. As if the list of things on your mind isn’t already a mile long – the last thing you need to add to it right now is kissing Joaquín.

You should be used to it – the flirting and teasing. He hasn’t held back since the moment you met. First, you had assumed it’s just how he is – that he says the same things to any halfway decent looking girl in his age bracket.

Sam had insisted that’s not the case.

Still, past relationship trauma had left you unable to believe that he was being genuine –and unable to believe that any good could come from returning his flirtatious sentiments. Best case scenario, you hook up and relieve the tension that’s been brewing between you for months, things fizzle, and you have to continue to work together while attempting to ignore any awkwardness. Worst case scenario, you let yourself completely fall for him and someone inevitably gets hurt.

This line of work, this lifestyle – it doesn’t mesh well with romantic relationships. You’ve learned that lesson the hard way, a few times over.

So, despite the fact that you think he’s annoyingly attractive, you brush off the compliments and cheesy one-liners. You look for every excuse when he tries to spend time with you outside of work and missions, never letting yourself give in even when every fiber of your being is dying to do so.

Like right now. He sits beside you, his arm and thigh brushing against yours. Even through his thick, heavy gear, it sends a shiver up your spine. You resist the urge to grab his hand in yours and tell him that you and Sam have this handled if he wants to help from the sidelines.

You can hear his response as clear as day in your mind. “Keep to the sidelines? And let you and Sam have all the fun? Pshhh. You wish.”

You bite your tongue, afraid to let him know just how much you care. You might not let it show, but you’re more worried for his safety than you are your own.

There’s no chance of him staying on the base while you and Sam potentially risk your lives. But maybe you can at least give him an incentive to keep himself alive.

Joaquín starts to stand when you place a hand on his arm. He freezes, an almost hopeful expression on his face as he looks at you expectantly.

“Don’t die out there and we’ll see about that kiss. Okay?”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Are you listening to a word I say?”

Sam’s voice snaps you out of your trance. You blink rapidly, lubricating your eyes that had been locked on a beeping monitor for an embarrassing amount of time.

“No,” you answer honestly. You glance at him for a brief moment before your eyes are back on the sleeping body a few feet away from you. “Not really. Sorry. What did you say?”

He sighs. He’s trying his hardest to not let it show, but you know that he’s getting a little annoyed with you.

You can’t really find the energy to care. You’re a little annoyed with him, too. He won’t stop tapping his fucking foot against the linoleum floor and the whole room still smells like the Chinese take-out he’d eaten hours ago.

Your stomach growls. Maybe you’re just hangry.

“I said you need to go home,” Sam says in an even tone. “Get a few hours of sleep, take a shower. Eat something that didn’t come out of a vending machine.”

Over the last four days, you’ve spent more time in this hospital room than your own apartment. You’ve only left to go home long enough to shower every other day, and to get gas stations snacks and coffee on occasion. The longest you’d been away from Joaquín’s bedside was yesterday morning, when you went to the Target down the road to put together a get well soon basket for when he wakes up.

Most guests would be asked to leave after standard visiting hours, but you suppose working with Captain America does come with some perks. You suppose it also helps that you were the one who pulled Joaquín from the ocean, flew him to safety, and restarted his heart with your powers while you waited on the emergency medical team to get to you on Celestial Island.

Maybe the hospital staff pities or – or maybe they’re a little scared of you. Either is fine, as long as you aren’t asked to leave for an extended period of time.

You’re hungry, and you need to shower, and a few hours of sleep in an actual bed certainly wouldn’t hurt. But the thought of not being here when he wakes up…

“I’ll call you,” Sam says, as if reading your mind. “I swear. As soon as he wakes up, I’ll let you know.”

You don’t trust your voice enough to speak, so you just nod. You’ve somehow managed to refrain from crying up until this point, but you’re running on a few hours of sleep and it’s starting to get to you.

Despite the various wounds and bruising across his body, he looks peaceful in his sleep. His chest rises and falls with steady breaths, and you feel yourself relax at the visual reminder that he’s okay. He’s resting, and healing, and he’ll wake when his body is ready.

“Okay,” you whisper as you stand up from the scratchy, old recliner that you have been glued to for the majority of the last few days. “You call me as soon as he opens his eyes.”

Before leaving, you walk to the side of his bed. On the table next to him sits a vase of wildflowers that have already started to wilt, and the basket that you had brought, full of some of his favorite things – beef jerky, Takis, gummy bears – as well as a few personal care items that may be of use for the duration of his hospital stay after waking up – deodorant, a toothbrush and travel sized toothpaste, and the biggest stainless steel tumbler that you could find.

In the middle of the basket sits a small, plush falcon. You hadn’t even been looking for it when it caught your eye in the store, but you immediately knew you had to get it for him. Seeing it had felt like a sign that everything is going to be okay.

You remove the stuffed bird from the basket and tuck it between his side and his arm before leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to the center of his forehead. It’s the first time you’ve touched him since the accident, and you’re reluctant to pull away.

Your eyes sting with all of the emotions that you’ve been holding inside for days. You don’t look back at Sam or say another word as you walk out of the room, hoping with everything in you that the next time you walk into this room, he greets you with one of his obnoxiously perfect smiles and a corny pick-up line.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

The first thing Joaquín hears is the low, repetitive beeping of a monitor. When he opens his eyes, he’s momentarily blinded by violent, early morning sunlight creeping through the blind slats.

“Well, well, well. How nice of you to decide to join the living today, Sleeping Beauty.”

He recognizes Sam’s voice a second before he sees him. Slumped in a chair in the corner of the room, he looks like he could use some sleep, himself.

All at once, images of the moments leading up to him plummeting into the ocean come flooding back. He remembers Sam yelling at him to back off from the last missile, the missile firing right at him, and then nose-diving into the ocean as you shriek his name.

You.

His eyes dart around the room in a panic, looking for any sign of you. His heartrate spikes on the monitor. Sam jumps up, rushing over to his side.

“What – where is she – is she okay?”

God, his throat is painfully dry. How long has he been unconscious?

“Easy, easy,” Sam soothes as he takes a seat at the foot of the hospital bed. “She is fine. She was unharmed and has hardly left your side in five days. It was like pulling teeth just to convince her to go home for the night. Made me promise to call her the second you woke up.”

At first, he assumes Sam is just messing with him. You have hardly left his side? You, the same person who has rejected every one of his advances for nearly a year?

“You’re being serious? She’s been here?” He asks in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah,” Sam exhales. “She’s been a mess, man. I don’t know how much you remember, but…” He trails off, avoiding Joaquín’s gaze.

“She’s the one who pulled you from that water. By the time she flew you somewhere safe, you weren’t breathing. She had to restart your heart with her powers until the medical team got to you.”

He can tell by Sam’s demeanor that he isn’t joking around, but he still struggles to wrap his head around it all. He had fucking died? His heart stopped, and you’re the reason that he’s alive? And you stayed with him while he’s been recovering?

Then, he remembers the last words you said to him before arriving on Celestial Island.

Don’t die out there and we’ll see about that kiss. Okay?

He isn’t sure if you really spoke those words, or if it’s some false memory that his subconscious conjured to keep him holding on while on the brink of death.

If it’s the latter, it worked. If it’s the former, and you really did say that, he supposes that offer is probably off the table since he technically did die.

Damn it.

Joaquín attempts to sit up and becomes aware of two things at once – he feels like he has been repeatedly ran over by a bus, and there's something fuzzy tickling his arm.

“What the hell…”

He picks up the small, stuffed falcon and can’t help but smile at it. “You shouldn’t have,” he chuckles, tossing the bird at Sam.

He catches it, smirking. “Oh, I didn’t.”

Sam gestures towards the table beside Joaquín. He follows his gaze, noticing the dying flowers and basket stuffed full of various snacks and self-care items. Whoever chose the contents of the basket, knows him well. He could live off of beef jerky if he had to, and gummy bears are his favorite.

“Who..?” Joaquín asks, trying not to get his hopes up that it could be from the person he most wants it to be from – the person who apparently saved his life.

“Take a guess,” Sam jabs as he tosses the stuffed animal back to Joaquín.

For a second, he thinks his heart just might stop again. He pictures you picking out the items and he has to shake his head to keep himself from grinning too big.

“Man, if I knew that all I had to do was die to get her attention, I would’ve done it a hell of a lot sooner.”

Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Just don’t go making a habit of it, okay? I don’t know if she would forgive you if you did it again.”

Sam then pulls out his cell phone, excusing himself from the room to give you a call and to get Joaquin’s nurse. Once he’s alone, Joaquín fights against all of the stiffness in his body to reach for the basket sitting on the bedside table. In addition to all of the other goodies, there’s a card tucked between a stick of Old Spice deodorant and a bag of Takis.

It isn’t in an envelope. He instantly snorts at the image on the front of the card – it’s a cartoon dog wearing a cone collar with a dejected expression. In bold print, it reads: At least you don’t have to wear a cone.

He opens the card, and immediately recognizes your handwriting.

I specifically remember asking you to not die. Guess you were right about that good luck kiss, after all. I'll remember that next time.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

The simultaneous dread and relief that you feel when you see Sam’s name pop up on your phone can’t be described in words. Dread at the mere possibility of bad news. Relief that it could be what you’ve been hoping to hear for days.

As soon as you hear him say that Joaquín is awake, you’re jumping out of bed at the ass crack of dawn. You don’t think about taking the time to eat any breakfast or even make yourself a cup of coffee – you just throw on some clean clothes, brush your teeth, and you’re out the door.

The short drive to the hospital is spent talking to yourself about what you're even going to say to him. How are things supposed to just go back to normal between the two of after something like this? After it felt like your heart stopped when his did? Do you even want things to go back to normal?

You knew you’d feel relieved to see him awake, but you don’t expect the overwhelming rush of emotions that comes over you as soon as you hear his voice murmur your name.

He's sitting up in his bed, holding the stuffed falcon that you’d given him and smiling at you like you hung the moon and stars as soon as you walk through the door.

That’s when you know the answer to your question – no, you don’t want things to go back to normal between you. With the way that you feel your heart in your throat, you don't think that’s a possibility, anyway.

“This little guy was a nice surprise to wake up to, you know. Kind of wish it had been you, but he’s cute, too.”

You no longer attempt to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill over for the last five days. You sit on the edge of his bed, directly beside his thigh and meagerly wipe the teardrops that leak down both of your cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” His demeanor completely shifts when he realizes that you’re crying. He leans in closer and pulls you to him. You sob against his chest, and he runs a large hand up and down your back. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here. It's gonna take more than a missile or two to take me out.”

You nod against his chest, but don’t pull away. He continues to massage your back as you attempt to calm down, focusing on the feeling of him against you. When you finally lean back, he wipes a lingering tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“You were dead, Joaquín. Your heart wasn’t beating when I pulled you from that water.”

He grins, taking your hand in his. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Well, it’s beating now. Because of you. But what’s new? My heart always beats for you.”

You exhale, finally letting yourself return his cheeky grin. The teasing remark makes you feel the happiest you have in days.

“Leave it to you to find a way to flirt when we are having a conversation about your death.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, his expression suddenly turning more serious. “I do have a question, though.”

You tilt your head in curiosity.

“When you brought me back to life, was it like a mouth to mouth type thing? Or..?”

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him back against his pillows. He cackles, his cheeks turning pink. He pulls you back to him, this time even closer than before. You can smell mint on his breath from the toothpaste you’d put in his get well soon basket.

“No. Thought I’d save that for when you’re awake.”

He places his hands on your sides, the light touches sending a thrill through you. The normally chilly hospital room suddenly feels a whole lot warmer.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs. “I don’t want you to think that you.. owe me anything, or have to kiss me just because of what happened—”

You’re shaking your head before he finishes speaking.

“Joaquín,” you interrupt him softly. “I’ve been stupid. So, so stupid and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that it took something like this for me to open my eyes to what’s been right in front of me this whole time. I knew that if I let myself want more, if I let myself give in, that’d be it for me. And that terrified me. But I don’t care anymore. I’m more terrified of never getting the chance to—”

Suddenly, his hands move from your hips to either side of your face. He pulls you the remainder of the short distance to him, and then his lips are against yours; effectively ending your rambling.

One of your hands cups the nape of his neck, your fingers intertwined in his soft curls. His tongue ghosts along your bottom lip and you eagerly part them for him. The sounds from various machines and the voices out in the hallway all fade to white noise as he moves his lips with yours.

He's gentle. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s still relatively bedridden, but he touches you like he’s touching fine, breakable China. There’s an underlying urgency, like he’s scared he’s dreaming and wants to savor this as much as possible before he opens his eyes.

You pull away with a gentle tug of his bottom lip between your teeth. He doesn’t drop his hands from caressing your face, and your rest your forehead against his, basking in the afterglow of a kiss long overdue.

“Damn,” he breathes. “Please tell me we can do that again, minus all of the months of rejection and the close call with death.”

You laugh. “I can promise you no more rejection, but you have to promise me no more close calls with death.”

A gentle stroke of his thumb across your cheekbone sends goosebumps down your spine. “I promise, mi vida. I’ve been waiting too long for this. There’s no getting rid of me now.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

mi vida: spanish for "my life"

thank you so much for reading!!! as always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Danny Ramirez Characters Masterlist

* indicates smut/18+/MINORS DNI.

Joaquin Torres - TFATWS & Captain America BNW

Oneshots

In His Hands*

Lapping Lager

Hold Me Closer*

Beyond Misconceptions

Vanilla Tobacco*

A Breach in Reality

Light On

The Falcon & the Machine

Blurbs

Quiet*

Between Sips

Where Candles Flicker

In the Diner

Little Loves

Drained

Ven por Ti

Hard Days

Floaty*

Gentle Peaks*

Muerto de Hambre*

Series

Vuelve a Mí* (ongoing)

Fault Lines (main story finished)

Let me Go (No Puedo)* (ongoing)

Velvet and Ash* (coming soon)

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia - Topgun Maverick

She Blooms at Night

Laid in Moss*

Ash - No Exit

coming soon

[backtothefanfiction]

Oh Baby | PART 1: OH BABY

Manny Alvarez x Reader Insert Fic

Summary: You thought you and Manny were people careful. It was only supposed to be a friends with benefits situation. Now it's something more.

Warnings: 18+ Only, smut, pregnancy, fluff, angst, canon violence, sparse use of Y/N, we are playing fast and loose with the actual canon and character depiction so if that's gonna bother you don't read, but if not, you'll like this.

Word Count: 7.5k+

A/N: WAIT! WAIT! BEFORE YOU CHOSE TO SCROLL! I know you've read those warnings. I know you're thinking 'uggghhhh nooooo, not a pregnancy fic' trust me, I get it, it's not usually my bag either, which is why you can trust me when I say, this isn't that kind of pregnancy fic. This isn't sunshine and rainbows. This isn't a honeytrap. It's angsty and dramatic and messy as well as human and fluffy and at times sweet. It's raunchy and real and I really can't believe I've written this kind of a story. So before you write it off and choose to scroll, please give it a go and if it's still isn't for you that's fine. But for those who continue to follow me on the journey of this story, I really hope you enjoy. As I said in the warning I am playing a bit fast and loose with the canon events. I haven't gone back and double checked who said what in the scenes in the lodge so don't come for me (after all its such a small part of the story I'm telling) but read, like, reblog and most of all enjoy!

“Oh would you just hurry up already,” you said to him, exasperated as you waited for him to pull his pants down. You had already pulled your own down and your ass was getting cold. Not to mention if you were both gone for too long the others would get suspicious.

“Shut up, I’m working on it,” he huffed, as he finally managed to get his cock out of his pants. 

There was a beat as you heard him work his hand up and down himself a few times, trying to make sure he was ready, his fingers dipping into your slick to help lubricate himself and make sure you were good to go. But you’d been good to go since you caught him taking a cold shower this morning. It was the thought of his bronzed skin and toned abs that had gotten you into such a state that you knew you would need to sneak away for a quickie the moment camp was set up.

“Oh my god, Manny, come on!” You pressed him.

“I know, I know, just -fuck,” he cursed. “Wait, there we go, there we go,” he said eagerly as he finally lined himself up with your entrance and slid inside. 

Just a few months ago you couldn’t have even imagined yourself even kissing Manny, let alone doing this, but now you were addicted. After weeks of him trying to aggressively flirt and wind you up at the same time, you had finally caved. Anything to get him to quit whining about his fucking “manly needs”- but he was good- you couldn’t fault him that. 

He always made you cum first before he even thought about shooting his load. Always caring and attentive- if all be it in his own slightly gruff way. You wondered what he’d be like if you could dedicate the space and time to just yourselves for longer than a few minutes. But alas, whilst you were on the road traveling with Abby and the others, there was zero chance of that happening.

You were pretty sure Nora knew you and Manny were fucking each other. Nothing ever got past her. But you were beginning to think it wouldn’t be too bad if people knew anyway. I mean, it was just sex after all. A way to blow off some steam. It was never gonna lead to anything else was it? Or was it?

“Oh fuck,” you panted as he rutted you up against the cold metal wall of the shed you were hiding behind. 

“Does that feel good baby?” He grunted into your ear. You turned your head back to him and nodded. “Use your words,” he said breathily into your lips as his forehead rested against your temple.

“Feels so fucking good, Manny,” you whined. He loved it when you said his name like that. He’d had many girls whimper his name just like that over the years, but he had to admit, when you did it, it really made his cock twitch.

“Yeah?” he asked as he moved his hand round to circle your clit and you shivered at his touch. “You gonna come for me princess?” he asked.

“Uh, huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaking as he rocked into you at force.

“Uh God,” he cried out, burying his head into the gap between your neck and your coat. “Come on, baby, I need you to come for me,” he gritted, his fingers over your clit picking up pace. You could tell he was close from the way his body tensed and his breaths became caught in his chest, as he fought with all of his might to hold off until you had cum first.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on that feeling building inside you, the way his fingers circled, his cock sliding in and out of you at a wicked pace and rubbing at just that right spot that would send you over the edge with enough stimulation. You were so close. 

“Come on baby,” he cooed again and you whimpered, your legs shaking and cunt convulsing around him as your climax crashed into you. 

“Oh Fuck!” he cried out as he finally let himself go and quickly followed after you. 

You felt his hips stutter and his cock pulsate inside you once, twice before he quickly pulled out. You tried not to think about it too much- how he had stayed in longer than normal. He was normally so quick to pull out to minimise any risk, but you’d both been sloppy today. 

It’d be fine, you told yourself as you began to pull your pants back up, but it continued to niggle at the back of your mind.

-------------------------------------

For the next couple days it was all you could think about. You grew quiet, often falling behind at the back of the group as you made your way towards Jackson, where you’d learnt this Joel guy Abby had been hunting down- for what felt like forever now- was living.

“You okay?” Nora asked as she fell back into step with you.

“I’m fine,” you quickly replied, not wanting to worry her.

“You two have a little spat?” she asked, motioning towards Manny in the middle of the pack.

“What? No!” you quickly said defensively.

“Okay, then why do you keep staring daggers at the back of his head?”

“I’m not staring daggers-“ you began, but caught yourself. “I was just thinking is all.”

“Just thinking… right,” she replied.

“It’s fine, it’s nothing,” you quickly said, trying to keep your tone light. 

“Okay, if you say so. But I’m not picking up the pieces if things go to shit between you two,” she said before she began to pick up the pace again, leaving you once more all alone with your troubling thoughts.

-------------------------------------

A week later you were fucking again like nothing had happened. You figured after a few days you’d notice if anything was amiss and seeing as there wasn’t anything to cause you alarm, you put it to the back of your mind. It was even easier to do when you were more focused on just being happy to be alive. 

You’d had a close call earlier on in the day, a small group of infected getting the drop on you all as you explored a small long abandoned little rural town. If it hadn’t been for Nora’s constant vigilance you all would have been fucked.

“Fuck, this afternoon was far too close,” he panted as he fucked you up against a tree. 

“I know,” you breathed back, your hands wrapping tightly around his neck, fingers tangling in his grown out curls sticking out the bottom of his hat.

“Thought I was gonna die,” he said.

“Yeah, then who would I get to fuck me in the middle of the woods,” you joked, trying to make light of things and take his mind off the subject.

“Uh, love burying myself in this pussy,” he said, his teeth nipping at your jaw.

“Oh fuck,” you sighed as the feeling of his facial hair prickled at your skin and sent a shiver down your spine.

You pulled at his hair and he growled as he rutted up into you harder. You could feel he was close. “Don’t forget to pull out,” you reminded him. 

“I know, I always do,” he said, before he shifted so he could give you a kiss, his tongue coming out to tangle with yours, the steam from your breathes mingling in the hot air.

“Tell me you’re close,” he sighed into you, his forehead pressing into yours as once again he tried to hold himself back.

You bit your lip and tilted your head back, closing your eyes as you once again tried to focus on your release. You squeezed the walls of your cunt around him, hoping the tension would help, but it just made him cry out.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Don’t do that. I can’t-“ You felt him twitch before he quickly pulled out.

“Shit!” he gritted again as he slowly lowered you back onto the ground and stepped back. “Fuck! You can’t do that!” he said to you again frustrated. “I almost came inside you. Fuck!” 

He quickly moved to place himself back in his pants before he started pacing back and forth to dispel the adrenaline.

“But you didn't, right?” You had to check.

“No,” he quickly said. “No,” he said much calmer, spotting the look of panic in your eyes. “But maybe we should just not do this for a while,” he said and although it hurt you to do so, you quietly nodded and agreed.

“Okay,” you said, but for some reason, it tore at something in your chest. Were you getting feelings for him? 

No, no. That would be stupid. 

-------------------------------------

Another week and a half passed and you finally made it up the mountain that overlooked Jackson, just before a big snowstorm hit. 

“We can camp out in there for the night,” Owen said, as he spotted the old abandoned ski lodge sticking out of the snow.

When you all got inside to the main room, the sky was now too dark to see your target until the morning, but you were glad of somewhere safe to rest.  You hadn’t been sleeping well the last few nights. You put it down to no longer getting a regular orgasm from Manny, but there was something else that had come back to nag at the forefront of your mind.

You were late. You tracked your cycle regularly. And although your body had been under a lot of stress lately with the hike here, you knew it wasn’t because of that. 

That voice had only grown worse again when you had found yourself throwing up at random times throughout the day. Not that much came up. You were all on strict rations to last you until you got back, which meant what did come back up was mostly bile mixed with a few dried crackers.

How had you let yourself be this stupid? And with Manny Alvarez of all people. He’d probably sooner abandon you up here to deal with this on your own than-what? Co parent with you? He was all in on playing the soldier, not the caring father. Fuck! How were you gonna do this?

You lay awake most of the night thinking about it. When you got up at 4am to puke you knew there was no way in hell you were making this up either. 

“You okay?” Nora asked you as she came and found you in the bathroom, your back against the cold tiled floor as you just stared up at the ceiling. 

“I’m late,” you told her, ripping the bandage off.

She faltered for all of a second before she schooled her features and simply said, “Well shit.”

“Yep,” you agreed as you slowly sat yourself up and shuffled back to lean against the wall instead. 

“Is it Manny’s?” she asked as she came to take a seat next to you.

“Yup,” you said with a frustrated eye roll.

“You gonna tell him?”

“Do I have a choice?” you asked, rolling your head to the side to look at her earnestly.

“I mean, it’s up to you,” she said. “But sooner or later I think he’s gonna notice. Unless you’re planning on running away and taking your chances in the woods that is.”

“I mean, who’s to say he won’t march me out into the woods and shoot me to get rid of the problem anyway. Just claim there was an accident or that I got bit or something,” your biggest fear tumbling from your mouth as tears began to well in your eyes.

“He wouldn’t do that,” she reassured you. “I mean, he can be a trigger happy asshole at times,” she said, “but he’s always wanted to do right by you.”

“How do you know?” you asked.

Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” she said nonchalantly. “You know, he always falls asleep facing towards you so he can keep an eye on you in the middle of the night.”

“No,” you said, realising you hadn’t noticed that.

“Or how he sneaks some of his own rations into your bag when you’re not looking,” she smiled. 

You frowned. You had wondered where the extra protein strips had come from.

“Look, tell him, or don’t tell him, but- I think if you do, you might be surprised about how he reacts.”

-------------------------------------

You were able to get a couple of hours sleep before Manny was intently shaking you awake. “Hey Y/N, get up,” he said, his voice more serious than you’d heard it in weeks. 

“Huh, what?” You groaned, but he was already moving to kick awake the others next to you.

“Get up. GET UP!” he barked and you suddenly grew worried.

“What is it?” Mel asked as she sat up.

“Oh shit!” Owen exclaimed as he took a closer look out the window.

“Fuck!” Abby sighed. 

“What is-“ your voice faltered as you stepped up to the window yourself. 

“It’s like a fucking fortress,” you heard Nora mutter beside you.

“They’ll never just fucking give him up,” Owen said rationally to Abby as you began to back away from the window again and move back towards your sleeping bag, that turning nautious feeling in your stomach becoming all consuming.

You should never have agreed to come on this venture, you thought to yourself. There was no way this was gonna end well. It’d be a miracle if everyone made it out alive. 

You thought to the living thing now growing in your belly. What if it had come at the right time? As some sort of miracle from above to try and turn you on another path. To get you away from this. Your stomach turned and a shiver ran through you as you were sure all the blood drained from your face.

“Hey, you okay?” Manny asked as he moved away from the group. 

“Yeah, I just-“ but you paused. No you were definitely gonna hurl. “Excuse me,” you said before you rushed out the room.

Once again you retched the very little contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. When your muscles stopped heaving and you could finally take a second to breathe, you flushed the toilet and any evidence of your little discrepancy down the pipes. 

“Hey, you okay?” Manny asked again when you returned. 

“No, we need to talk,” you said to him as Abby readied herself to go out into the cold.

“Yeah, sure what’s up?” he asked seriously, and although his voice was hushed, you still feared the rest of your group overhearing. 

“Not here,” you said, your eyes scanning the room suspiciously before you began to pull him back towards the run down kitchen in the back.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again as you folded your arms defensively and leant back against one of the stainless steel counters.

You took a deep breath, mustering what little courage you had left before you said, “I’m pregnant.”

His face fell. “What?” he frowned, quickly stepping closer to you and dropping his voice.

“I’m pregnant,” you said to him again.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yep. Pretty sure,” you said to him with a shrug.

“How do you know?” he asked skeptically.

“Well, I’m late for starters,” you sighed frustratedly. “I’m throwing up at all hours of the day. My boobs hurt, I’m tired like- all the time!” you stressed to him quietly.

He was quiet. Deadly silent. And you think it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him truly speechless. 

“Okay,” he finally sighed. “So what do we do?” he asked, looking to you for the answers. 

“I don’t know. I mean, given the life we live, who knows if it’ll even stick,” you said to him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, we live a stressful life, shit happens. I might miscarry or… something else might happen to us before I even get close enough to 9 months,” you said with a shrug, trying to weigh up all likely scenarios.

“But what if it does?” he said. “Get to 9 months, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” you said to him worried and he could see the fear and terror in your eyes. You had never wanted to bring kids into this world. Who would ever in their right mind willingly subject new life to this? But unfortunately this was where you were at.

“Does anyone else know?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the closed door as if he could see through it.

“Nora found me throwing up last night,” you told him.

“And she-“

“Knows you’re the father? Yes,” you said, finishing his sentence for him.

He breathed deeply, letting out a sigh as he rubbed at his face, his fingers pulling at his curls that draped forward over his forehead. “Fuck!” he exclaimed as he pushed them back with both hands, running them down the back of his head until they rested at the back of his neck.

You remained quiet as you let him take a moment to process the bombshell you had just dropped in his lap. 

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay?” you said, asking him to elaborate.

“Okay,” he said again. “We can deal with this. We’ll just take it day by day, moment by moment until we’re done with tracking down this Joel guy and then-“

“Then?” you asked, fear still in your eyes as you watched him slowly formulate some sort of a plan. 

“Then we’ll deal with it. We’ll assess our options. Come up with a plan,” he said. 

“Okay,” you said timidly, but you were still just so scared. “You’re not mad?” you asked him as you continued to watch him go back to silently process all this.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, turning towards you and reaching his hands out to rest on the tops of your arms. It felt comforting. “If I should be mad at anyone it should be myself for not being more careful,” he said. 

“Look, just don’t stress. Don’t worry,” he said, trying to find some confidence despite the fact he was absolutely shitting himself on the inside. “We’ll deal with this. Together.”

“Together,” you repeated. 

“Whatever you do, just-“ he hesitated, “don’t tell anyone else okay? Let’s keep this a secret for now until this is done.”

“Okay,” you agreed, but you had no idea how well you were gonna do that when you were throwing up every few hours and you felt so tired you could sleep for a whole week.

“Manny,” you said to him shakily, “I don’t know if I can do this,” you confided.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said, folding you into his arms and pulling you into his chest as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “I promise,” he said into the top of your head. “No matter what happens. I’ve got you… both of you,” he clarified and his words made you sob.

-------------------------------------

The next few hours felt like hell. You were still so tired, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat anything and to top it all off, Abby had fully disappeared into the snow putting everyone on high alert. That alert only increased as you all watched a hoard of infected begin to attack the town down the hill.

“Mel, stay here with Y/N,” Manny began to instruct, “everybody else, outside with me to look for Abby and reinforce the perimeter.”

You felt like your stomach was in knots as you waited for them to return. Every now and again you’d just about make out one of their figures against the backdrop of snow, but the longer it took for them to come back, the worse you felt.

You tried to sip some water at the very least as you sat in front of the large windows with a pair of binoculars keeping an eye on things.

“Are you okay?” Mel asked you as yet another wave of nausea hit and you swayed slightly on the spot.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied between slightly gritted teeth, holding the binoculars back up to your face to hide your features.

“Really, because you don’t look fine,” Mel pressed. “You’re as white as a sheet- and don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneaking off to the toilet every 5 minutes.”

“It’s just a stomach bug or something,” you lied. “Probably one of those dodgy out of date protein bars,” you said and she reluctantly seemed to accept that, but she didn’t have time to press you further as you spotted a set of horses racing up the hill. “Shit, we’ve got company,” you said, handing off the binoculars for her to have a look as the others outside began to move into action.

“Looks like Abby,” Mel shouted as you moved further back from the window, trying to control your breathing and will that feeling of nausea to pass.

Within minutes everyone was back inside and racing up to the main room. “Hey, you okay?” Manny asked rushing over to you and pulling you to one side, it was clear from the look on his face he had been thinking about you and worrying the whole time he was outside.

You simply nodded before turning your attention to everyone else in the room, eager to find out where Abby had run off to and who she had brought back with her. Mel was already huddled to one side with the young girl, trying to attend to her already frost bitten fingers.

It didn’t take long for things to turn south as Abby announced that the man who had ridden back up the mountain with her was in fact Joel. You didn’t know if it was meant to be or just sheer dumb luck on Abby’s part, but she made it very clear, very quickly, she definitely wouldn’t be passing up on this particular opportunity.

Although you had heard her going on for years now about getting her revenge and ripping this guy apart limb from limb, it was very different watching it play out. No one else had anticipated an extra witness, but Abby seemed to have thought that out. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl now lying unconscious on the floor, but you also figured it was for the best so she wouldn’t have the memory of all that Abby was currently doing to this Joel guy. 

She had fully lost it, shooting his knee cap out with a shotgun before taking a club from some long forgotten golfing bag and going to town, beating the shit out of him with it again and again and again. 

You’d seen a lot of shit over the years, the infected themselves being some of the worst of it, but this- for some reason, this affected you way more than any of that ever had. You’d watched children murdered by a firing squad. Men literally hanged in the streets for stealing food. You’d seen broken limbs that stuck out of skin. People's insides, literally on their outsides. And yet still this made your stomach turn worse than any of that. 

Eventually you had to turn away, your eyes instead fixating on the father of the child that was now forming inside of you. You silently pleaded with him to do anything. But he just shook his head. He knew better than to mess with Abby in the state she was right now. 

“I need some air,” you said to the room as you moved to grab your coat and leave the room, but you didn’t get far as another young girl came charging in. 

You were suddenly knocked backwards, your back colliding with a beam as she lunged at you. Before she could do anymore damage though Manny was there, ripping her off of you and holding her firmly in his arms at gunpoint. 

“You okay?” he barked in your direction, but you could see the panic hiding in his eyes.

You rubbed at your ribs wheezing slightly where she had winded you, but you were okay and you gave him a silent nod to tell him such. “Yeah,” you groaned as your voice slowly came back to you. 

As the young girl noticed the state of the man lying beaten on the floor, she began to fight against Manny, a knife now in her hand clocking him in the head. It took all of Manny and Owen’s effort to wrestle her to the ground as she shrieked in distress. When you caught eyes with Manny again and silently pleaded for him to do something, he finally conceded, encouraging Abby to finish it.

You watched as the young girl continued to scream, willing Joel to get up off the floor as Abby slowly moved with the now broken golf club to stand over his crumpled body. It was too much, the next wave of nausea hitting you so fast all you could do was turn around and retch into the corner.

As you braced your hands against your knees and basically threw up the water you had drunk, your eyes watering from having the contents of your stomach come back out of your mouth again, you slowly began to feel Manny’s steady hands rubbing at your back through your thick coat.

No one said anything, the rest of the room distracted watching the young girl- who was struggling to breath from the kick Manny had given her to her ribs- tried to crawl across the floor towards the man she cared for.

“We need to go. Now!” Owen insisted; him, Mel and Nora already beginning to frantically repack things into bags ready to leave.

“You okay?” Manny asked as he continued to rub at your back as you finally stood back up and looked over your shoulder at everyone else to see if they were looking, but thankfully they weren’t. You slowly nodded and as he saw the colour begin to come back to your face, he allowed himself to part from you to help finish packing stuff up ready to go. 

A few minutes later he was helping you put your bag back on. It was noticeably much lighter than the last time you carried it, but you didn’t press the matter.

“Come on, let’s go,” Manny said, reaching for your hand to pull you out the door with him first, the others following behind at staggered intervals, Owen practically having to drag Abby from the scene.

As he encouraged you to start climbing further up the mountain again, back in the direction you had all originally come from, he finally let go of your hand and allowed himself to drop a couple paces back to make sure everybody was on the move; as well as scout the tree line for any stray infected that might have broken off from the hoard Joel, Abby and that other girl had been running from earlier.

-------------------------------------

You didn’t stop moving for the next two hours. Every time fatigue hit you and you began to fall behind, Manny always fell back with you, checking in and encouraging you on, consistently giving you false hope of you all getting to have a break soon, but you knew you needed to have Jackson and what happened in that ski lodge well behind you for that to happen. 

The only lucky thing was the rest of Jackson were too busy dealing with that hoard of infected to come after you all straight away, meaning you could get as big a head start as possible. But you’d seen the way that girl had looked at Manny. Looked at Abby. The way she didn’t give up. You knew she’d want revenge the same way Abby had and she’d catch up to all of you some day and make that happen.

The thought made you rub absentmindedly at your belly as you contemplated on that future. The inevitability of her tracking you both down and leaving your child an orphan. But one look at Manny told you he’d do everything in his power before he ever let that happen. 

It was almost nightfall before you got that rest. Your fingers and nose were freezing cold and you were sure you had tiny icicles forming on your eyelashes. 

“You need to eat something,” Manny said as he sat you down in front of the fire he, Owen and Nora had made up. 

You were sitting in the living room of an abandoned farmhouse. You could hear Mel and Abby already raiding the pantry looking for anything non perishable that you could add to the group's reserves, but you knew your stomach wouldn’t keep anything down.

You shook your head at him, “No, can’t,” you said, closing your eyes as you focused on willing away that feeling rising in your esophagus again, even though you knew there was nothing there at all for you to bring up.

“You have to,” he insisted. “Even if it’s just a little,” he said and you groaned at him in protest.

“What’s wrong with her?” Owen asked as he stood at Manny’s back where he crouched in front of you, his hands resting on your knees.

“Nothing, just a stomach bug or something,” Manny said quickly, trying to wave him off.

“It’s not contagious is it?!” he suddenly asked worried, his feet quickly shuffling himself backwards like he might catch it.

“No, I just had a dodgy protein bar,” you lied, using the same excuse you’d used on Mel earlier. 

The man crouched at your feet gave you a subtle appraising look as if he was impressed at your quick thinking, but you both knew you’d have to come up with some other excuse pretty fucking fast for when your symptoms continued to persist in a few days time. 

You stared at the dried blood that ran down from his head to his cheek where that girl had caught him with her knife. You reached out to touch it, shifting his hat back on his head slightly so you could get a better look. “You should probably clean that and put something on it so it doesn’t get infected,” you said and he shrugged. 

“Will you help me?” he asked and you nodded.

He came back a moment later with a first aid kit from one of the packs. You rested it on the sofa cushion next to you as you began to take bits out of it, searching for the things you wanted. 

He sat himself down on the floor between your legs, his knees resting against his chest so he could lean forward comfortably, his arms wrapped around to rest on his shins. You smoothed his curls back with one hand whilst you began to clean up the wound with an alcohol wipe with the other. He sneered slightly as the alcohol smarted. You deftly picked the fibres from his hat out of the wound, before sealing it with some surgical glue, your fingers pushing the two sides of the cut back together until it set. His fingers slowly traced at the back of your calves tenderly as he waited, his movements subtle so that no one else would notice, but the tenderness of his touch spoke volumes to your overwhelmed emotions and hormones.

“Thanks,” he finally said as you covered the wound with a large bandaid before he shuffled back, just in time for Nora and Abby to come in with food. 

He didn’t stray too far from you as you all ate. You slowly picked at the food in your bowl as everyone scoffed theirs down in methodical silence.

By the time you all went to sleep you were shattered. “I’ll take the first watch,” Manny said as everyone began to settle in their chosen spots around the room.

“Who wants to take second?” Abby asked the room.

“Y/N hasn’t done one in a while,” Owen began but one sharp look from Manny had Nora quickly volunteering in your stead. 

“Y/N has her stomach bug thing, she didn’t really sleep last night, she can do tomorrow or something,” she said, helping give an excuse and everyone else seemed to accept that.

‘Thank you,’ you quietly mouthed to her when no one was looking, but she just rolled her eyes and brushed you off like it was no big deal.

-------------------------------------

You managed to sleep all the way through until 3:30 when Manny and Nora swapped and he came to settle down next to you to keep you close. You turned your body towards him to find him staring at you.

“Go to sleep, Alvarez,” you whispered to him. His eyes softened as they took you in in the dark, his lip slightly quirking upwards, before he rolled onto his back.

You just lay there watching him for a moment as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t look at you again, but after a while, his hand slowly shifted across the floor towards you, his fingers reaching for yours- and you let him. You quietly shuffled closer to him, your fingers fully intertwining between your bodies as your head lulled to the side and rested against his shoulder. And that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, content and safe in each other's presence until dawn.

-------------------------------------

You woke at the first crack of light, your stomach once again turning on you and you raced from the main room to the toilet to be sick. This was awful. You hoped it’d get better soon but who knew. You had heard about some women getting morning sickness way worse than others, you had just never thought it’d be you. Then again- you never thought you’d end up pregnant at all.

You leaned forward and wretched into the bowl again. As you braced yourself against the grimy porcelain, rough hands moved to sweep your hair back out the way.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Manny’s gruff morning voice said as he rubbed at your back again with a soothing hand.

“I’m really starting to hate you right now,” you groaned as you spat into the toilet.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame you,” he sighed, fatigue still heavy in his voice. 

When you finally felt well enough to sit back from the bowl, he reached over to flush it for you before encouraging you back into his arms. He rubbed soothingly at your back again as you rested against his chest. 

“I really hope this part doesn’t last that long,” you told him as you nuzzled into his shirt, soaking in the smell of him. He was slightly sweaty and dirty from the last few days hike, but for some reason you didn’t mind it.

“I think this place still has hot water,” he said as his fingers brushed up and down your arm. “We can take a shower if you want before the others get up,” he suggested, hoping the simple pleasure of hot water would make you feel better.

“Really?” you asked softly in disbelief.

His breath chuffed over the top of your head as he let out a small amused laugh. “Yeah, I checked last night when everyone went to sleep. There’s some half decent towels left in the cupboard too,” he supplied and you finally pushed yourself away from his chest to look at him with a semblance of hope in your eyes. 

“Come on,” he said encouragingly as he helped you to stand.

You hovered there in silence as you waited for him to go grab the towels from the cupboard and your packs so you both had some fresh clothes to change into after. 

You both continued to exist in that comfortable silence as he turned the water on and steam began to fill the cold bathroom. You watched as he checked the cupboards for any left over shampoo, conditioner and soap, placing them inside the shower before he helped you to strip. 

You had always wondered what things would be like between you if given some time and a domestic setting, but you never could have imagined this. He encouraged you to lift your arms up so he could pull your jumper and top off in one go. Next he gently undid your belt before easily sliding your now too big for you trousers down your legs, letting them bunch at your ankles, ready for you to step out of. 

You hesitantly lifted your hands to his waist, reaching for the hem of his shirt to help him do the same. Your eyes lingered on his skin as it was slowly exposed to you, your fingers sliding back down the toned muscles of his flesh and sending a ripple of goosebumps over his skin. 

Slowly he lifted his finger under your chin, encouraging your eyes to meet his. There was a lingering moment of tension between you before he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss. It wasn’t hungry or rushed or passionate like any of the other ones you’d shared during your quick moments together in the cold, but tender and soft and it sent shivers down your spine and the backs of your legs. 

As he continued to kiss you, he gradually reached down to undo his own trousers and kick them off so you both stood fully naked before one another. “We’re wasting the water,” he mumbled with a faint smile on his lips against your own and you reluctantly broke apart from him to climb into the shower and move under the water. 

You let out an audible sigh as you tilted your head back under the flow of hot water. Hot water felt like such a luxury when you were on the road. You closed your eyes as you relished in it, your hands reaching up to run your fingers through your hair and ensure it was thoroughly wet. 

You listened closely as you heard him step into the old claw foot tub and slide the curtain closed. Felt the air around you change as he stepped closer to crowd your space.

“Turn around,” he instructed softly and you did, the water instead cascading over your tender breasts and warming your chest.

There was a click clack as you heard him open and close the shampoo bottle, before placing it back on the side with a thud. You tilted your head back towards him as he lifted his hands up to your head. You let out a small moan of relaxation as his fingers began to massage and lather the shampoo into your scalp. His touch was so tender- so gentle- unlike any way you had seen him act before. 

You kept your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone else wash your hair since you were a little girl and your mom used to do it. You relaxed back into his touch as he continued to rub and massage your scalp, your fingers blindly moving behind you to brace yourself on his thighs. You were sure you heard his breathing hitch, but you didn’t pay it much mind.

“Turn around again,” he instructed after a couple of minutes and you reluctantly did, your eyes locking onto his dark hazy ones as you stepped back under the running water. 

As you lifted your hands to run your fingers through your hair again and make sure you got all the bubbles out, you heard him reaching for the conditioner and getting it ready in his palm. When you felt the shampoo was fully washed out, you caught his eyes and he silently shifted his hand to tell you to turn around again, before he started to run the conditioner through your lengths. 

You had never felt so pampered in your life and it was just what you needed after two full days of vomiting hell. When the conditioner was all slicked through your hair, he grabbed the bar of soap and tenderly ran it over your skin as you waited for the conditioner to set in. His hands were soft but thorough as they glided over your skin and rubbed the soap into all your folds and intimate areas.

“What about you?” you asked him when he finally stepped back to let you wash everything off.

“I’ll sort myself out in a minute,” he said, shrugging you off. You had every mind to protest, but the way his soft brown eyes stared at you earnestly, told you how guilty he felt for your current situation and that he wanted to do his best to try and start making amends.

As you slowly washed out all the conditioner and made sure all the soap suds were washed from your body, you were surprised by the sudden feeling of his fingers gliding softly over your lower abdomen- to where you both knew his child was growing inside of you. When you looked at him, you noticed his eyes were laser focused on that spot as he still struggled to come to terms with the reality you now faced.

You were both snapped away from the moment by the sound of a fist thumping on the door. “Hurry up you two, you’re gonna use up all the hot water,” Nora’s voice called out in protest.

You and Manny both shared one more tender look with each other before he finally encouraged you to get out of the shower and he could quickly have his before Nora’s fist hammered on the door once again. 

-------------------------------------

An hour and a half later, everyone was huddled in front of the fire again, all debating on what the group's next move should be. You had all been on the road moving back and forth from camp to camp, looking for information about Joel so Abby could track him down for so long, you’d never even discussed what would happen afterwards. 

“I say we keep heading back to Seattle and join the WLFs like the other fireflies we came across,” Mel suggested.

“I mean, they’re a bit extreme aren’t they?” Nora said.

“Maybe,” Mel said slightly defensively, not liking that her suggestion would need justification, especially after what you had all just done. “But at least they’re in control of the whole city. And there’s a lot of them and Marlene always told me that the way to survive was strength in numbers.”

“I mean, it’s where everyone else has gone,” Owen offered up, not really objecting to the idea.

“Manny, Y/N, what do you think?” Abby asked.

You didn’t know what to think. You’d barely had time to think past the last 24 hours, let alone what you wanted for the future. But you knew you needed to start making a decision- and soon. 

You had been a member of the fireflies for so long, you had no idea what you’d be without them. Maybe joining the next best thing was the right move to make. But that didn’t fully factor in the child that was taking form in your body. To be a member of the WLF was to basically be a soldier- and who knew what their leader Isaac was gonna make of your situation when in a few months time it became impossible to ignore. 

Not to mention, as a soldier with the WLF you were basically canon fodder. Although you increased your risk of survival against the infected with a large group, you were an afterthought when it came down to missions or inevitable rivalries over territory and resources. Then there was the added element of the girl from the cabin eventually tracking you all down. Being in a large group would no doubt deter her or at the very least make the chances of her succeeding in killing you all a lot harder.

You turned your gaze to Manny hoping he would have an answer. Desperate to know his opinion and what he was thinking. 

“I mean, what other choice have we got?” he said to the group. You knew he was fishing to see if there were any other ideas or options, but the way he asked made it seem like he’d already made up his mind on the matter.

As long as you’d known Manny, you had always seen him take the easy option where he could. He was very much a throw my weapon around now and ask questions later kind of guy. Manny had already been a member of the fireflies for three years when you had joined. He was only a couple of years older than you, but it was clear the toll that being placed into survival mode at a young age and being groomed into a child soldier had done to him. 

You hoped someone else would have an answer. Hoped someone else would be brave enough to say ‘why don’t we go find a community to join or just try and hack it out in the world on our own just the six of us’- but they didn’t. 

When Abby turned her head back to you again for your final say so, all you could do was give a small nod of acceptance.

“I guess that’s it then,” she announced as she got up off the floor, “it looks like we’re going to Seattle.”

-------------------------------------

TO BE CONTINUED....

[musings-of-a-rose]

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 1500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Look, I know this would never happen and the logistics are a nightmare. But this is fic and I do what I want. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for reading this over! And thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for the equipment line. Pure genius, as usual!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia Masterlist

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" I whisper, looking back over my shoulder like I expected someone to be there, following us. 

Mickey shrugs. "Captain Mitchell brings his girlfriend all the time."

"Yeah, but he's Maverick. He can do whatever he wants."

My boyfriend, who thinks he's so funny, chuckles, his fingers laced between my own as he pulls my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "You've been asking me for damn near a year to see the planes I fly. You really gonna back out now?"

"I don't want to be arrested."

Mickey laughs. "You won't be. Kicked off base, maybe."

"Ok, maybe we should go back to the bar, Mick."

He spins me around, pushing my back against the hanger wall, the metal cool on my back as he presses his body to mine, his fingers gently tipping my chin up to face him. His lips are soft on mine, a slight neediness behind them before he pulls back. "Do you trust me?"

I sigh, my fingers trying to grasp the tight fabric of his uniform as I pull him back down towards me. "With my life."

He kisses me softly again before pushing away from the wall, offering me his arm. I take it, my cheeks warming under his smile as he guides me out of the building and onto the tarmac. 

I gasp, fighter jets all in a neat line glisten in the setting sun, each of them just as powerful as the next. They make me feel small but not in a bad way. More like, I'm in awe of their presence and the skill it takes to master one. 

"Which one is yours?" 

"It's not really mine. They belong to the Navy."

I punch his arm lightly. "You know what I mean."

He leads me over to a jet a few down from the front and tells me all about it. What all of the markings mean, what it's made of, how fast it can go. His eyes light up, a proud smile always tugging at the corners of his lips as he continues talking. 

"Hey baby?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Can I see you in it?"

"You wanna see me in the jet?"

"Very much so."

"Alright. Wait here." Mick reaches up and pulls a ladder out from the side of the jet. He gives me a quick kiss and a wink before he ascends the stairs, opening the cockpit and lowering himself inside. He waves a hand to me, beckoning me to him.

"Come on up!"

I take a breath and ascend the narrow stairs, my hands slightly sweaty against the metal handrails. But then I'm at the top, looking down into Mick's upturned face, those espresso eyes waiting expectantly. 

"There's a lot of buttons."

He laughs, shoulders shaking with it as his smile makes me warm. "Yeah there are."

"Do you know what they all do?"

"Of course." He starts pointing and explaining each of the buttons, his face lighting up with each explanation. I watch him, the small movements he makes to point to another one of the thousand buttons on the console, a smile stretched across his face as he keeps glancing at me to make sure I'm paying attention. 

As if I could look anywhere else. 

"You look hot as fuck, Mick."

He stops mid sentence, the tips of his ears heating up. "What?" 

"You're so fucking hot." I glance around and see no one. We're completely alone on the strip. "Sit back."

He does as I ask, his eyebrows raised in silent question. But as I lower myself carefully down onto his lap, his eyes darken, hands settling on my hips. 

"What are you doing, babe?" He asks, his eyes darting down to my lips. 

I scratch my nails lightly at the back of his head, loving the feel of his shaved cut under them. I kiss him, slowly moving down his neck, my hips moving of their own accord. 

"I need you, Mick."

He pants in my ear before pushing me a little to get me to sit up, making sure I'm looking at him. "This is a serious piece of equipment, babe."

"You're a serious piece of equipment."

His eyes glance down at my lips and for a moment we don't move, me waiting for him to accept or say no. 

"Fuck it." He grips the back of my head, pulling me to him, the hand that had been on my hip now sliding up my bare thigh. I moan into his mouth when his fingers brush against my wet cunt. 

"Fuck, babe you're so wet."

"Watching my extremely hot boyfriend sit in his fighter jet while he Ted Talks me about it with giddy excitement really turns me on." 

"You're such a slut." He kisses me, sliding his fingers under my panties and I gasp at his touch. 

"Only for you."

He inserts a finger and then another, guiding my hips down on them as I moan. But it's not what I want. I grip his wrist and pull him from me, feeling my wetness on his fingers as they brush past my inner thigh. Sliding my hands down his chest, I kiss him again, my fingers fumbling with his belt, moving his zipper down and cupping him. He gasps into my mouth, hardening even more the longer I hold him. 

I push down the top of his boxers, gently pulling him out as he slaps against me. Our breaths are steaming up the windows, his soft whimpers filling the silence as I push my panties aside and line him up, sinking down onto him, my mouth hanging open as I stretch around him. We waste no time, my hips moving over him as he thrusts up into me, pulling his favorite sounds from me. He wraps his arms around my back, holding onto my shoulders as he thrusts faster, harder, and it's all I can do to hold on, one hand gripping his arm and the other splayed across the window. 

"Oh fuck, Mick! I'm gonna…" my orgasm comes on quick, my body tensing as I chant his name over and over, my hips rocking against his to get as much pleasure as I can. I see he's close, so I look down at him, meeting his dark gaze. 

"Come inside me, Lieutenant Garcia."

"Fuck!" Mick groans, whimpering as he spills inside of me, hips thrusting a few more erratic times, his breaths panting out across my face. Mick looks up at his girl, the last of the days sunlight on her face, sweaty and fucked out and he thinks he's never seen anyone so beautiful before. 

"You ok, Mick?"

"I love you."

"Of course you do. I just fucked you in your jet."

"No. I mean it. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met and you love me for me. I love you."

His eyes are bright and wide as he looks at me and it's then I realize that I love him too. I lean down to him, pressing my lips to his before cupping his cheek, pulling back just enough for him to see me. 

"I love you too, Mickey." 

—----

An hour later, we walk into the bar, Mick's arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my temple as we walk up to his group of friends. They all greet us, shaking hands and cracking jokes. Only Bob seems to notice my slight limp, looking from me to Mick, the way he holds me close, his fingers playing with mine. When I look at Bob he winks, giving me a small smirk before taking a drink. When we pass by him later, Bob grabs Mick's wrist and pulls him closer. 

"I hope you cleaned up the jet when you were done. I don't want to fail inspection." 

My cheeks heat up, but then Mick is speaking quieter. "At least I made sure not to leave her panties behind, Bob."

My mouth falls open as I look at Bob, whose cheeks are warming, his ears turning pink. He just smirks and nods, lifting his glass to us. "Touché." 

-------

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[itwillbethescarletwitch]

Greedy

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader x Bob Reynolds

SMUTTYSMUTTYSMUTTYSMUTTY

THIS IS A MARVEL FIC BUT I NEEDED A GIF OF THEM TOGETHER SO IM USING THIS TOP GUN MAVERICK GIF

The music pulsed through the bar like a heartbeat—fast, heavy, low. The kind of bass that lived in your chest. You were already two drinks in, swaying like temptation in heels too high and a dress too tight. Perfect. You wanted attention. Needed it.

And you knew exactly how to get it.

You found Joaquin by the bar, leaning back, beer bottle loose in one hand, black shirt rolled to the elbows. His jaw ticked when he saw you coming.

“Dance with me,” you purred, sliding between his legs like you belonged there—which you did.

He didn’t move.

“I’m enjoying the party,” he said flatly, taking a sip of his drink. His tone was smooth, but you knew that edge—that Joaquin.

You pouted up at him, running a hand up his chest. “We can have our own party.”

He arched a brow. “You being needy already, princesa?”

“Only a little.”

His hand slid down your thigh, firm grip bruising. But that was all. No pull. No follow-through. Just that unreadable smirk as he said, “I don’t reward needy little brats. You want attention? Be good for it.”

You blinked at him. Stunned. Denied.

“Fine,” you snapped, jerking back. “I’ll go to my favorite boyfriend. At least he cares about me and my needs.”

You didn’t wait for his response. You stormed off—barely hiding the grin on your lips.

⸻

You found Bob leaning against a wall by the patio, nursing a whiskey, all golden warmth and soft eyes. Just what you needed.

“Bobbyyy,” you sighed, curling into him like a cat in heat. “Joaquin’s being mean to me again.”

Bob looked down immediately, brows furrowed in concern. “What happened?”

“He said I was being a brat,” you sniffed. “Just because I wanted a little attention. Just because I wanted him to touch me…”

His eyes dropped to your lips. Your neck. Your cleavage.

“…But you care about me, don’t you?” you whispered, pressing your body against his. “You want me.”

Bob swallowed hard. “Of course I do, sweetheart. I always want you.”

“Then let me take care of you.” Your hand slid down, slow and soft, fingers teasing the front of his pants. “Let me suck your cock, Bobby. Please? Just for a minute. Just until you tell me to stop. I’ll be so gentle. You deserve it after the mission…”

Bob was already hard. You felt him throb under your palm.

“I—I hate seeing you like this,” he murmured, brushing your hair back. “You’re so needy, baby…”

“Take me somewhere,” you breathed, kissing the underside of his jaw. “Let me be good for you.”

⸻

You found an empty storage closet, dimly lit and too small, but perfect. The door clicked shut behind you, and you immediately sank to your knees, yanking at his belt with shaky fingers.

“You’re gonna feel so good,” you promised, pupils blown wide. “I missed the way you taste.”

Bob moaned when your fingers brushed his cock. “Sweetheart—fuck—okay, okay…”

You had just unzipped his pants, tugged them halfway down his hips, tongue darting out to tease when—

SLAM.

The door burst open.

Joaquin.

Still calm. Still dressed. Still in control.

You didn’t even get a chance to react before he crossed the room and fisted your hair, yanking you up with a jerk that made you gasp.

“Oh, so this is what we’re doing now?” he growled, dragging your back against his chest. “Getting on your knees for him like a cheap little slut?”

Bob stepped back, wide-eyed, pants half open. “Joaquín—”

“Shut it.” He didn’t even look at him. His eyes were all on you. “And you.”

You glared at him, chest heaving. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you did your fucking job.”

That smile. That fucking cocky, cruel smirk.

He shoved you against the wall with one hand on your throat, the other gripping your hip so tight you’d feel it for days.

“You don’t come unless I say you come,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear. “You don’t even breathe unless I say you can, princesa.”

Bob tried again, “She just—she looks like she needs—”

Joaquin turned his head, slow and deliberate.

“She gets nothing,” he snapped. “Not until she learns.”

You twisted against him, thighs rubbing together.

“Touch your cunt again,” Joaquin growled, “and I’ll leave you dripping and empty all fucking night.”

———

You barely had time to pull your dress down over your thighs before Joaquin yanked the door open again, hand still tangled in your hair. Bob trailed behind, pants zipped but still tented, flushed and silent.

Not a word was exchanged on the ride back to your place. The silence wasn’t peaceful—it was coiled, tight, full of unspoken punishment and desperate heat.

You knew you were in for it.

You wanted to be in for it.

⸻

The moment the door shut behind you, Joaquin shoved you up against it, one palm flat to your chest, the other tugging at your hair just enough to tilt your head back.

His voice was low, dangerous.

“You wanna act like a fucking brat in front of people? Try to make me jealous? Get on your knees for him like you’re some street-corner whore?”

You shivered.

“You are jealous,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “You just hate when he gets my mouth first.”

His grip tightened.

“You want my cock that bad?” he snarled. “Beg. And if I don’t like how you do it, I’ll gag you with Bob’s boxers and let him fuck your throat while you cry.”

Bob shifted behind him, clearly struggling.

“Joaquín—”

“Quiet.” His eyes never left yours. “She wants to be greedy? Let her find out what that really feels like.”

⸻

He dragged you to the bedroom.

Not gently. Not lovingly. Like he owned you. Like you were his problem to correct.

He sat on the edge of the bed, spread his legs, and nodded down.

“Strip. Now. And if you touch yourself, I swear to God…”

Your hands shook as you peeled your dress over your head, revealing your soaked panties. Bob sucked in a breath behind you.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “Sweetheart…”

You stepped out of them slowly, locking eyes with Joaquin as you did.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please, sir. I need—”

He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor.

“On your knees.”

You dropped instantly.

“Now beg.”

You hesitated.

“Now.”

Your voice broke on the first word.

“Please let me have your cock. Please, I need to feel it. I’ll be good, I swear. I’ll do whatever you want—”

“You said that in the closet,” he cut in. “Didn’t stop you from unzipping Bob’s pants, did it?”

You whimpered.

“Open your mouth.”

You did.

He stood, walked behind you, and slapped your ass so hard your knees jolted forward. You cried out, back arching from the sting.

“That’s one for acting up in public.”

He smacked you again.

“One for that smart little mouth.”

Again.

“One for trying to pit us against each other. What kind of stupid little whore pulls that stunt?”

You were shaking now, face hot, thighs clenched.

He ran a finger through your folds, slow and deliberate, then brought it to your lips.

“Taste how fucking wet you are for being denied. Pathetic.”

You moaned around his fingers, sucking greedily, desperate for any part of him.

Bob finally moved—stepped forward, hands gentle as he helped you to your feet, voice like warm syrup:

“It’s okay, honey. You’re doing so well. You’re so pretty when you listen.”

He kissed your jaw, your shoulder, guiding you onto the bed with such reverence it made you ache.

“You ready for me?” he whispered. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes—yes, please, Bobby, I need it—I need you—”

He pushed in slow, thick and perfect, stretching you open until your fingers clawed at the sheets.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned. “Like you were made for me. That’s it, sweetheart. Just take it. You’re doing so well.”

Joaquin stood at the head of the bed, cock out, thick and flushed.

“Look at you. Getting fucked nice and slow while you stare at the cock that should be choking you. Want it?”

You nodded, whimpering.

“Beg.”

Your voice cracked.

“Please, sir. Please fuck my mouth. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He slid his cock between your lips without warning, one hand in your hair, the other gripping the headboard. You choked a little, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, but you took it—desperate and eager.

Bob thrust into you slowly, carefully, panting sweet words against your ear:

“So good for us… so beautiful… I’m so proud of you…”

Joaquin had no mercy. He fucked your throat like it was his to ruin.

“You’re nothing but a cock-hungry little brat. You think you’re in control? This is what greedy girls get—stuffed full of cock and used.”

Your moans were garbled around his length, but they didn’t stop.

Neither did the tears.

⸻

You were wrecked—sloppy, dripping, body trembling from too much stimulation, not enough release.

And then—

“Flip her,” Joaquin ordered.

Bob obeyed instantly, pulling out and helping you turn over. You were on your hands and knees now, barely able to hold yourself up.

Bob slid back inside, his cock coated in your slick, hands on your waist.

Joaquin moved behind you, spat between your cheeks, and rubbed it over your tight hole.

“You want both? That’s what this was all for, right?”

You whimpered, nodding rapidly.

“Please. I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll be so good—”

“We’ll see.”

He pushed in slowly, stretching you open, and the moment he bottomed out you screamed—loud, raw, filthy.

They moved together, perfectly timed, filling every inch of you. You were sobbing by the second thrust.

Bob kissed your neck, whispering, “You’re perfect. So perfect. You’re taking us so well, baby.”

Joaquin slapped your ass, deeper, rougher.

“Tight little holes begging to be ruined. You love this. Say it.”

“I—I love it—”

“Say you’re our greedy little fucktoy.”

“I’m—fuck—I’m your greedy little fucktoy—”

⸻

You came so hard it blacked out your vision. They didn’t stop.

They didn’t let up until your body was shaking, twitching, fully spent—used, exactly how you wanted to be.

You were still shaking.

Face down on the mattress, drool on the pillow, your body limp and pulsing. Your thighs twitched with aftershocks, your cunt and ass leaking, red and used.

Bob hovered behind you, hands gentle as ever, voice soft and tender.

“Let’s give her a minute,” he said, brushing your hair back. “She needs water. Maybe some space—”

Joaquin didn’t even look up from where he was stroking his cock lazily.

“No.”

Bob blinked. “She’s barely—”

“She wanted to act like a greedy little whore tonight?” Joaquin said, voice dark and cutting. “She gets used like one.”

Bob hesitated.

“She’s… she’s shaking.”

That’s when Joaquin finally looked at him.

“You don’t join.”

Bob’s brows pinched. “What?”

“You heard me. You’re gonna sit over there, and you’re gonna watch me fuck her. And if I so much as see your hand move to your cock?” He leaned in, kissed your hip possessively. “I’ll make her deny you the same way I deny her.”

Bob went quiet.

His cock was still aching—red, leaking, throbbing. But he backed up, lowered himself into the chair near the edge of the bed. Close enough to see. Far enough to be useless.

You were half-aware, legs trembling as Joaquin flipped you over, laid you on your back.

“Eyes open, princesa,” he whispered, tapping your cheek. “Let him see your face while I fuck you stupid.”

You blinked up at him, lips parted, wrecked and messy and soaked. Bob let out a breath he clearly hadn’t realized he was holding.

Joaquin didn’t start slow.

He shoved into you with one brutal thrust, and your entire body jolted. The sound was obscene—wet and loud and filthy.

Bob let out a quiet, “Fuck…”

Joaquin grinned.

“You watching? See how she takes it now? Loose and dumb and perfect.”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Joaquin was punishing—each thrust harder than the last, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.

Bob shifted in his seat. His thighs spread wider. His hand hovered near his cock—not touching. But close.

His face was flushed. His breathing shallow.

“Look at her tits bounce,” Joaquin muttered, low and cruel. “Look how she moans for me. You wish you were inside her again, don’t you?”

Bob whimpered.

“Don’t touch it,” Joaquin snapped.

Bob’s hand jerked back like he’d been slapped. He clenched his fists instead, thighs twitching, his cock dripping against his stomach.

You were babbling now, incoherent, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Too much—can’t—f-fuck—”

“Yes you can. You wanted this, remember? Be grateful I’m even letting you breathe right now.”

Bob groaned under his breath, palms flat on his thighs, rubbing them—anything to relieve the pressure. His whole body was tense, cock bobbing with every shallow breath.

“Please—” he whispered, eyes locked on your soaked cunt. “Please let me—”

“What did I say?” Joaquin barked. “You don’t get to come.”

And then—

He smirked.

Pulled out of you.

“Ride him.”

You both froze.

Bob blinked. “W-what?”

“Go ahead,” Joaquin said, still holding his slick cock in one hand. “Sit on him. Let him feel how wet you are. Let him get close.”

Bob scrambled onto the bed like a man possessed, laying back against the pillows, cock already twitching, thick and heavy against his abs.

You straddled him, legs weak, body still trembling. He gripped your thighs like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“You sure?” he whispered.

You nodded, sinking down with a shaky gasp. You were still so full from Joaquin. Bob slid in easier than usual, and the stretch was softer—but deeper.

Bob’s head fell back with a choked sound.

“Oh, sweetheart… you feel like heaven.”

You rocked your hips slowly, and his hands found your waist—tight, needy, reverent.

Then he did it.

That thing.

That tell.

He pulled you down against his chest, arms wrapped around your back in a tight bear hug, and started thrusting up into you—fast, desperate, body lifting off the bed with each push.

Joaquin’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Bob froze. Mid-thrust. Whole body rigid.

You were panting, riding the edge again, so close to falling apart.

“I didn’t say he could finish,” Joaquin said coldly.

And then—yanked you off of him.

You let out a strangled cry, pussy clenching around nothing.

Bob gasped, nearly came from the loss of sensation, his cock twitching wildly, untouched and denied.

“You wanted her so bad?” Joaquin sneered. “Now sit there and watch me take her again.”

Bob was a mess—sweat-drenched, red, panting, his cock angry and leaking.

And you?

You were dragged back onto your knees, shoved forward, and Joaquin entered you again with no warning, fucking you hard enough to bounce you on the mattress.

Bob could see everything—your mouth open in a silent scream, drool stringing from your lips, your pussy swollen and dripping.

He palmed the sheets. Fisted them. Thighs clenched. He didn’t dare touch himself.

He watched.

Helpless.

Hard.

Ruined.

Joaquin’s pace hadn’t slowed.

If anything, it had gotten worse—sharper, deeper, crueler. Every thrust had you sobbing against the mattress, your whole body slick with sweat and spit, your pussy swollen and sore from how long he’d kept you in this state—used, ruined, shaking.

Your voice was barely a whisper now.

“Please… oh my god, please…”

But Joaquin didn’t give a fuck. He gripped your hips harder, thumb digging in so deep it made your spine arch.

“You’re not done,” he snarled. “You want to come so bad, you’re gonna earn it. On your knees.”

He pulled out—your pussy clenching at the sudden loss, dripping down your thighs—and manhandled you upright, pushed you down between his legs on the bed.

“Open your mouth.”

You obeyed, lips glossy, tongue already out like a starved little thing. He grabbed you by the back of the head, cock already smeared with your slick and spit, and shoved himself in deep.

You gagged on impact.

“That’s it,” he growled, rocking into your throat. “Take it. You know this is your favorite.”

It was. You fucking loved this—loved the weight of him on your tongue, the stretch, the way your throat fluttered and burned with each punishing thrust.

He was relentless.

His hips snapped forward, using your mouth like it was his, like it didn’t belong to you anymore. You moaned around him, drool spilling down your chin, tears leaking from your eyes—not from pain, but from bliss.

“Look at her,” Joaquin said, glancing over at Bob. “So fucking happy choking on cock. Aren’t you, baby?”

You blinked up at him, tears trailing down your cheeks, and nodded with his cock still stuffed in your mouth.

He pulled back just long enough to let you gasp a broken breath, then shoved himself in again with a grunt.

“Sloppy little mouth,” he muttered. “Built for this.”

⸻

Bob was dying.

Still sitting at the edge of the bed, cock throbbing against his stomach, eyes wide and wet.

He was trying to be good. Trying to follow Joaquin’s command. But his thighs were clenching. His fists were white-knuckled in the sheets. His hips kept twitching like his body was begging for friction.

And then—

He sniffled.

A real one. Sharp. Fast. Quiet.

Joaquin didn’t miss it.

“You crying, baby boy?”

Bob’s head snapped up, red-faced and miserable.

“N-No—just—” He cut off with a soft whimper, biting his lip. “I can’t—it’s too much—watching her like that, I—fuck—”

Joaquin barked a low laugh.

“Look at you. Cock so hard it’s dripping, eyes full of tears, and you’re still not touching it. That’s cute.”

You pulled off Joaquin’s cock with a wet gasp, drool coating your lips and chin, eyes glassy.

“Can I help him?” you whispered hoarsely. “Please? He’s hurting—he’s—he looks like he’s in pain, Joaquín—”

He grabbed your jaw, hard.

“No. He doesn’t deserve it.”

Bob whimpered again, a tear sliding down his cheek, his cock twitching without a single touch.

“You both wanted this. Now fucking take it.”

⸻

Joaquin laid back.

Spread his legs, thick cock resting heavy against his stomach, glistening with spit.

“Climb on.”

You didn’t hesitate.

Your legs were jelly, your mind was foggy, but you needed it—needed him inside you, needed to be filled again. You crawled onto his lap and sank down on him, moaning as your body melted around the stretch.

Joaquin’s hands gripped your waist, holding you still.

“Ride me.”

You started to move—slowly, hips circling, thighs trembling.

Bob whimpered.

You turned your head to him, saw him sitting there like a wreck—eyes wet, face red, cock flushed purple and leaking like a faucet.

“Touching yourself yet?” Joaquin asked, voice low.

Bob shook his head violently. “No—no, sir.”

“Good.”

You bounced harder now, moaning with each rise and fall, your slick coating Joaquin’s thighs. You were babbling—thank yous, pleads, incoherent praise—completely gone.

And Bob?

Bob cried.

Not loud. Not sobbing. But real tears slipped down his cheeks as he watched you fall apart on Joaquin’s cock, listened to the sound of skin-on-skin, and couldn’t join. Couldn’t help. Couldn’t even relieve himself.

“You see this?” Joaquin growled, pulling your head back by your hair, forcing your eyes to Bob’s.

“This is what happens when you act like a needy little slut in public. You get cock. He gets nothing.”

You came like that.

Hard.

Back arched, scream torn from your throat, legs shaking as Joaquin held you down and fucked up into you mercilessly, milking every twitch, every cry, every single wave of pleasure.

Bob sobbed silently in the chair.

Your body collapsed boneless against Joaquin’s chest, his cock still buried inside you, pulsing from the sheer force of your orgasm. His arms were heavy around you, grounding, his breath warm and steady against your ear.

And then—finally—he came.

A groan ripped from his throat as he gripped your waist hard and slammed into you one last time, thick spurts spilling deep inside your already dripping cunt. You moaned at the stretch, the fullness, the mess.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered against your neck, voice rough. “Took me so fucking good.”

You were gone. Floating. Dripping in every way.

He pulled out with a squelch, slapping your ass once as he stood.

“Don’t move. I’ll get us some water.”

And just like that—he disappeared into the kitchen.

⸻

Bob was still in the chair.

Sweaty. Tear-streaked. Cock angry red and twitching so hard it looked painful. You turned your head slowly to look at him, guilt and affection mixing deep in your chest.

“Bobby…” you whispered.

He let out a breathy whimper. “I—please—Y/N, I can’t take it anymore. It hurts.”

You crawled off the bed—shaky, disobedient, aching—and dropped to your knees between his legs.

“I’m not supposed to—”

“I don’t care,” you whispered. “You deserve it.”

Your mouth wrapped around him in one slick, sudden motion. Bob shouted.

“Oh, f-fuck—baby, fuck—”

You sucked him deep, messy and wet, not even trying to tease. Just pleasure. You’d been ruined, sore, trembling—and still, all you wanted was to take care of him. He sobbed a quiet thank you as your tongue worked him over.

His hands found your hair, trembling.

“Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—I’m gonna—fuck—”

He grabbed your head with both hands, suddenly forceful, and shoved your mouth all the way down until your nose was flush against his stomach, cock buried to the base. You gagged, throat clenched—

And Bob. Lost it.

“Fucking c-coming—fuck—I’m coming, I’m coming—shit—Y/N—”

He wailed as he came, hips twitching, cock spurting straight down your throat. You swallowed instinctively, tears running down your cheeks again, more from how deep he held you than anything else.

He kept your head there—hands shaking, holding you tight—until his whole body slumped forward, forehead dropping against yours, breath ragged.

“I-I’m sorry—I couldn’t—fuck, I couldn’t stop…”

⸻

And then the door creaked.

Bob’s eyes snapped open.

You both froze.

Joaquin stood in the doorway, holding a glass of water, expression blank.

Dead silent.

His eyes dropped to the sight: your lips red and swollen around Bob’s softening cock, his hands still in your hair, your knees on the floor.

A slow blink.

Then:

“What,” he said, calm and terrifying, “the fuck is this?”

Bob choked.

“I—I didn’t ask her to—she just—”

Joaquin walked forward slowly, each step deliberate.

“I told you not to touch your cock.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t touch myself, I just—she—she sucked me off, I’m sorry—”

Joaquin dropped the glass of water hard on the nightstand.

It didn’t break, but the crack of it echoed.

“And you,” he growled, eyes cutting to you, “knew the fucking rule.”

You were still on your knees, mouth shiny, chest rising and falling. You didn’t deny it. You just looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes.

“He needed it,” you whispered. “I couldn’t watch him cry again…”

Joaquin let out a low, humorless laugh. Then he looked at Bob, who was still red, dazed, lips parted in panic.

“You think that was an orgasm?” he asked coldly. “That was permissionyou never had. You’re gonna learn what it feels like to really come. After I take everything else from you first.”

Bob swallowed, hard.

Joaquin looked at both of you like you were prey now.

“You want to come without permission?”

He stepped closer, grabbed you by the throat, and pulled you up to standing, face-to-face.

“Then you can beg me both on your fucking knees while I decide who gets punished first.”

Joaquin shoved you back against the wall—not roughly, but enough to make your breath catch. His hand stayed wrapped tight around your throat, thumb pressing into the pulse point beneath your jaw.

Bob didn’t even try to move.

“You two made a choice,” Joaquin said, voice low and dangerous. “You wanna come without my say-so? Fine. But you’ll regret it.”

He pointed to the bed.

“Get on your back. Arms above your head.”

You obeyed without hesitation, still tasting Bob on your tongue. Your body was wrecked, but some primal part of you thrived under the threat.

Joaquin pulled the leather cuffs from the drawer—ones he’d used before on both of you—and bound your wrists to the headboard. Firm. Final.

Then he turned to Bob.

“Stand.”

Bob’s legs shook as he got up, eyes wide and damp. He looked like he was still floating in post-orgasm haze, but Joaquin wasn’t going to let him bask in it.

“Hands behind your back.”

Bob did it.

Joaquin circled him like a predator, grabbing the base of Bob’s cock, now sticky and soft but still twitching at his touch.

“You come without permission again,” Joaquin murmured, “I’ll make her edge you with her tongue for hours. You won’t come for days. Understand?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

He snapped a cock ring in place with terrifying ease.

Bob whimpered.

⸻

Then Joaquin climbed onto the bed.

He straddled your waist, cock hard again—this man didn’t stop—and leaned over until his mouth was at your ear.

“You’ll come when I say. Not before. And you won’t say no, because you asked for this.”

You nodded frantically.

“Yes, sir.”

He moved lower, lined himself up, and slid inside you again—no warning, no prep—and you screamed, body jolting from the sensitivity.

“That’s right,” he grunted, hips grinding deep. “Feel it. Cry if you need to. I’m gonna make you come until you’re fucking ruined.”

⸻

Bob watched.

Still cuffed.

Still aching.

His cock filled back out in minutes, hard and angry against the restraint. He couldn’t come again, but the pressure was already unbearable.

And Joaquin?

He put on a show for him.

Made you moan, whimper, beg. Rubbed your clit with brutal circles until your legs kicked. Slammed into you with fast, punishing thrusts while holding your wrists down and forcing your mouth open for him to spit in.

“Look at him,” Joaquin growled, pulling your head to the side so you could see Bob panting, shaking. “He wants to come again so bad it hurts.”

“Please,” you whimpered. “Can I make him feel good again?”

“No.”

He reached down, gripped your throat again, and fucked you harder.

“You’ll make me feel good. He’s gonna sit there and ache. Just like you will after this.”

You came again—loud, writhing, toes curling, drool slipping from your lips.

Bob sobbed.

Your name fell from his lips like a prayer, voice cracked and helpless.

“Please—please let her touch me—I can’t—fuck, I’ll come in seconds, I’ll do anything—”

Joaquin laughed against your neck, still thrusting.

“Yeah? You want her to touch you that bad?”

Bob nodded frantically.

“Then beg her. Look her in the eyes and beg her not to listen to me.”

Bob met your gaze, wrecked.

“Y/N… baby, please. I—I need you. Just one touch. One suck. You’re so good at it, I’ll be good too—I swear, I’ll be so fucking good for you…”

Joaquin grinned like the devil.

“That’s cute. You still think she gets to choose.”

And then he spat on your face and came inside you again—hot, deep, and final.

You sobbed through the overstimulation, hips twitching, cunt milking him as your brain just short-circuited.

⸻

He pulled out, adjusted his pants like nothing happened, then turned to Bob.

“You? Stay cuffed. No coming. No touching. You move, I’ll edge her in your lap until you pass out from the pain.”

He walked out of the room without another word.

Bob sat there.

Breathing hard.

Crying again.

Cock hard, trapped, tortured.

And you?

You whispered, barely audible:

“I’m sorry…”

But part of you loved it.

Joaquin returned twenty minutes later.

Not sweaty. Not messy. Fully dressed.

Black fitted tee, jeans low on his hips, water bottle in one hand. Calm. Cool. Untouched.

The complete opposite of you and Bob.

You were still spread on the bed, body trembling, thighs sticky with slick and cum. Bob was kneeling on the mattress, still cuffed, still rock hard in that brutal cock ring—face red, jaw clenched, aching.

Joaquin didn’t say a word at first.

Just sat.

Pulled the chair around to the front of the bed.

Sat backwards in it, arms resting on the top rail, legs spread wide as he watched you both with a terrifying kind of casual ease.

Then—finally:

“Get on top of him.”

You blinked, eyes wide. “What…?”

“Ride him,” Joaquin said, voice low and sure. “You’ve both been so desperate to come, now I want to see how well you behave when I call the shots.”

You crawled over to Bob slowly, straddled his lap with shaky legs. He looked up at you like you were a miracle, his cock twitching violently under the ring.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered, eyes glassy. “I missed you…”

“Don’t move,” Joaquin snapped. “She rides you. Not the other way around.”

Bob nodded quickly, swallowing a desperate moan.

You reached between you, lined him up, and sank down—slow, slow, slow. Bob let out a wounded sound, hands curling into fists behind his back.

“Oh my God—”

“Don’t come,” Joaquin said coolly, not even blinking. “If you even twitchlike you’re close, I’ll edge her right off you again.”

You started to move.

Bob was a wreck already—cock trapped in that ring, pulsing so hard it must have hurt, your walls squeezing around him like heaven.

And Joaquin?

He gave orders like it was nothing.

“Circle your hips—yeah. Just like that. Let him feel you milk him, slow and deep.”

“Now lean forward. Let your tits brush his chest. You like that, Bob?”

“Y-Yeah,” Bob gasped. “Feels—fuck—feels so good—”

“Don’t touch her. You don’t get hands yet.”

“Yes, sir—”

You whimpered as you ground down, slow and torturous, Bob’s cock so thick inside you, so full.

“Now rub her clit.”

Bob froze beneath you.

“I—I thought I couldn’t use my hands—”

“You can now. Just your right hand.”

You leaned back a little to give him room, your hands planted on his chest, and Bob brought one trembling hand between your legs.

His fingers found your clit—slick, swollen, throbbing—and started rubbing slow, careful circles, eyes locked on yours.

“That’s it,” Joaquin said. “Just like that. Let her work for that orgasm.”

Your hips moved with it, the friction building fast—your thighs shaking, moans falling from your lips uncontrollably.

Bob was whispering to you, soft and reverent.

“You’re doing so good, baby… so pretty on top of me… come for me, please…”

“Now go faster,” Joaquin commanded, voice still cool, still seated like a king watching his subjects fuck for his amusement.

Bob obeyed.

Your whole body tensed—orgasm cresting hard, so fucking close—

“Stop.”

You screamed, every muscle seizing up as Bob’s fingers yanked away.

He looked like he might cry again, eyes wide and terrified, cock pulsing painfully beneath you.

“You come without my say,” Joaquin warned, “and I’ll edge you both again until the sun comes up.”

You were still on top of Bob, thighs trembling, cunt spasming around his cock with every aftershock of that denied orgasm. Your body tried to chase it, to finish on instinct, but you forced yourself still—because you knew Joaquin meant it.

Bob was the one who nearly broke.

“Please, sir,” he choked, voice trembling. “I—fuck—please let her come. I can’t take it—her pussy’s clenching so hard—I’m gonna—”

“No,” Joaquin said simply. “You don’t come until she does. She doesn’t come until I say.”

He stood slowly, still fully dressed, walking in a slow circle around the bed like a man inspecting his work. You were soaking Bob’s lap, his thighs, the sheets. His chest was slick with sweat, lips parted, face flushed.

And still—his hands stayed behind him. Obedient.

“You look so fucking desperate,” Joaquin murmured. “Both of you.”

He leaned down, grabbed your jaw, made you look at him.

“Do you deserve to come yet?”

You swallowed.

“No, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because I disobeyed.”

“And him?”

You looked down at Bob, who could barely breathe.

“Because he came without permission.”

“Good girl.”

Joaquin pulled your hair back roughly and kissed your cheek, just once.

“Keep riding him.”

You whimpered, already aching, and began to move again—slow, shallow bounces, slick noises echoing through the room as Bob moaned helplessly beneath you.

“Faster,” Joaquin commanded. “Don’t stop until he’s shaking.”

Bob cried out, head thrown back. “Fuck—Y/N—please—too much—”

“Don’t you dare come,” Joaquin snapped. “If you feel close, tell me.”

“Yes, sir—fuck—yes—”

Your pace stuttered. You were right there again, the pleasure curling up your spine, ready to explode. You couldn’t hold it—

“Sir—please—please let me come—”

“Not yet.”

You sobbed—your head dropped to Bob’s shoulder, nails digging into his chest as your pussy spasmed around him.

Bob was groaning like he was in pain, cock twitching violently inside you.

“Sir, I—I’m gonna come—I can’t stop it—”

Joaquin moved fast.

He gripped your waist, pulled you off Bob’s cock just as his hips surged—and Bob screamed, body jolting, orgasm completely ripped away as his cock slapped against his stomach, leaking but untouched.

“NO—fuck—fuck—”

“You don’t get to come until I say,” Joaquin growled. “You’re fucking lucky I don’t make you eat it off the floor.”

You collapsed into Joaquin’s arms, twitching and soaked, and he caught you easily—kissed your temple, rubbed your spine gently.

Bob was shaking.

Eyes wet. Mouth open. The cock ring looked brutal now, straining around his base, angry and purple.

“One more round,” Joaquin said softly, looking down at you. “You take him again. And this time, when you come—I’ll let him come inside you.”

“Th-thank you,” you whispered, voice broken. “Thank you, sir.”

You sank down again, this time leaning forward against Bob’s chest, his arms still bound, his lips whispering how good you felt, how much he missed you, how pretty you were like this.

“Please let her come, sir,” he begged. “Please, I want to feel it—I want to give it to her—”

“Not yet.”

Your eyes rolled back.

You clenched down so hard it made Bob scream.

“She’s close—sir—she’s so close—”

“Now,” Joaquin said.

And you both broke.

You came with a wail, whole body convulsing as Bob let go at the same time—cock jerking inside you as he came so fucking hard it hurt, filling you deep and full.

“Thank you—thank you, sir—thank you—” you both sobbed it like prayer, collapsing into each other, finally spent, finally free.

Joaquin stood there, arms crossed, watching you both with something almost like satisfaction.

You were still in Bob’s arms, trembling, both of you breathless, covered in sweat and slick and tears. Your cunt ached, stuffed and dripping, but all you could feel was the warmth of him—his arms tight around you, his lips pressed to your forehead, whispering over and over:

“You were perfect. So good. My sweet girl…”

Joaquin watched for another long second.

Then—finally—he moved.

The chair scraped back. His boots crossed the room slowly, deliberately. He crouched beside the bed, bringing a soft, damp towel with him.

“C’mere, baby,” he murmured, voice no longer sharp but low and steady. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He helped you off Bob’s lap—gently, careful of your knees and thighs—and eased you down onto the sheets, tugging the covers away so he could wipe between your legs. You hissed at the touch, overstimulated and raw.

“I know, I know,” Joaquin murmured, wiping delicately, his brow furrowed with focus. “You did so well. I got you.”

Bob was sitting up now, arms finally free, rubbing slow circles into your calves as you let Joaquin clean the mess he left inside you.

“You okay?” Bob asked softly, voice still thick with emotion.

You nodded, barely.

“I’m okay.”

Bob kissed your ankle.

“You were incredible.”

Once Joaquin was done, he tossed the towel aside and came to sit at the head of the bed. He opened his arms without speaking—and you went to him instinctively, curling into his chest, legs tangled between his. He cradled the back of your head, thumb stroking the slope of your jaw.

“Proud of you,” he said, low and warm. “You took everything. Even the punishment.”

You felt tears sting behind your eyes—not from pain, but from the release. The tenderness of it all after how rough the night had been.

“I didn’t mean to disobey,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, kissing your temple. “That’s why you get this.”

Bob joined you both, easing in behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you between them.

Now you were cocooned—held completely—Joaquin behind your head, Bob tucked to your front, your body between theirs like something cherished.

No more orders. No more rules. Just warm skin, steady breath, and quiet praise.

“I love you,” Bob whispered into your hair. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Me too,” Joaquin said, brushing your curls from your face. “Even when you’re a brat.”

You giggled, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry I sucked his dick.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Joaquin said, smirking. “Right now, you rest.”

“You’ll let me sleep?”

“Yeah,” Bob said gently. “We’ll hold you while you do.”

[eclairemaire]

the sound of music pt.3

playlist | part 1 part 2 part 4

Pairing: Lewis Pullman x Reader Category: Fluff Summary: Stranded in a 24-hour diner in the middle of nowhere, you make an unlikely companion as you bond over the sound of music. Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Swearing, fast-burn??? (idk), No mention of Y/N, Nicknames & petnames, mechanic-ish reader, musician reader (Lemme know if I missed any) Notes: This is part 3 of this series. I hope everyone enjoys. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; all characters are just that, characters, and have no ties to their real-life counterparts.

Lewis puts his phone onto the dash as you plop into the passenger seat, you sigh and throw yours up there as well. He watches as you rest your elbows on your knees and stare at the floorboard for a minute. 

“Ok,” you say after a moment.

“Ok?” he asks in response.

“Yeah, Ok.” You look at him for the first time since you got into the car. “I will move in with you.” Lewis looks like he’s about to start talking, but you hold up a finger to stop him.

“But there are some conditions.” Your tone brooks no argument from him, so he nods and waits for you to continue. 

“First,” you hold up a finger. “I will NOT mooch off your wealth or take any freebies. Therefore, I will not just live with you; I will be paying rent, and you can decide how much that is later. But this is non-negotiable.” Lewis nods, but doesn’t look like he quite agrees with it.

“Second,” you raise a second finger. “You need to be aware that I am not very fond of people, so if you have a ton of people over or something to that effect, give me like a 30-minute warning so I can prepare myself.”

“I understand that.”

“Third,” you raise a third finger. “I know your family is very private about your lives, I ask that you extend that courtesy to me. I have no interest in being a public figure, I don’t want fame, I don’t want your money. I just want to be me, and if that includes being your friend or whatever, great. I respect your boundaries and you respect mine.” Lewis hums low in his throat and nods agreement.

“I think I can do those things, but I want to add something.” He says, “You continue to treat me just like anybody else. Not an Actor or an important Musician, just me, Lewis.” 

“I think you’ve got yourself a deal.” You put out your hand for him to shake, and he does. After that, he starts the truck, and y’all continue on your journey to Lewis’s home.

It’s a week after your initial move-in that you have a slight conundrum, it’s around mid-afternoon, and Lewis was just finishing up a call when you messaged him.

‘Hey, we need to talk when you get the chance.’  He read your message and let you know that he was free now for the rest of the afternoon.

Knocking on his office door, you wait for him to respond, “Come in.” He turns and smiles at you as you open the door and lean on the door frame. “What’s up?” 

“We need to figure out how to get my stuff from my storage unit.” You say.

“Okay, well, where’s your storage unit?” He asks.

“It’s a U-Haul unit in Oklahoma. Got all my shit in there, my piano, my violin and my car to name a few things.” You say as you walk further into his office. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to play violin,” he mused as you stopped in front of him in his desk chair.

“Believe it or not, there are quite a few things you don’t know about me.” You reply.

“Well, we could use a moving service, have them go to your unit, get your stuff, and haul it out here.” He said, as he turned to look one up on his computer. 

“Yeah, that’s where the issue comes up, I don’t think anybody we sent would know how to drive my car…” You trail off at the end of your sentence, and Lewis turns back around to look at you.

“Why wouldn’t someone know how to drive your car?” His gaze was curious as he eyed where you stood, fiddling with your fingers.

“Uhh… becauseitsavintagejapaneseimportedcar.” You said it so fast that he missed the majority of what you said.

“Care to repeat that slower?” He requested.

“Because it’s a vintage Japanese import car.” You repeated, slower, ducking your head down in slight embarrassment.

“You have a vintage import car?” He didn’t seem to believe you.

“Yeah, remember I said I’d been driving since I could sit in a go-kart. That later translated into working on and owning vintage cars. How do you think I made enough money to hitchhike for three months by myself?” You ask, putting your hands on your hips as you stared him down in his seat. He raised his hands in surrender before responding.

“Ok, so what do you suggest doing if we can't do the moving service?”

“I’ll probably call my dad to be honest, get our enclosed trailer, and meet up with him at the storage unit and drive back here with my shit. Then I can ‘officially’ move in.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Sounds like a plan, what do you need from me?” He asked, not seeing where he came into play in this situation.

“I need you to drop me off at the airport in a few days, and not be here when we get there. I know it’s your place and all, but my dad’s really overprotective, and I really don’t want him scaring you off, because then I’ll have to find a new place to live.” You state with a deadpan expression on your face.

“I uh yeah, when do you think you’ll be back?” He asked after checking his calendar for the next week or so.

“I’ll fly out in two days, it’ll be a little over 22 22-hour drive, so maybe two days after that, I can text you when we’re five hours away.” You say as you look at your phone, and then over to him. He nods, and then his phone rings, and you take that as your cue to exit his office and leave him be.

Four days later your unloading all your shit from your dad’s trailer and taking it into the house and putting the various boxes in their designated places, kitchen things in the kitchen, your toiletries in your bathroom, your tool box in the garage, and all your other possessions is going into your room the only thing you don’t know what to do with is your piano. 

So you call Lewis. He picks up after the second ring. “Hey Lew,” you say as you look around the living room.

“Hey, what’s up? How’s unloading going?” he asks.

“Good, only one thing left.” You answer.

“Oh, that’s good, what is it?”

“You wouldn’t be opposed to having a piano in the living room, right?” Your voice is soft as you ask.

“Why don’t you just put it in the studio?” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Um, because the studio is full of the bands equipment, I wouldn’t want to fuck anything up.” Was your answer.

“You wouldn’t fuck anything up.” He laughed, but you weren’t joking. If you somehow broke any of that equipment, you wouldn’t be able to face him ever again.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, you’ve seen what a clutz I am sometimes,” you mutter.

“Here, how about this, you and your dad can leave it in the living room for now and when I get back, we'll move it to the studio?”

“Ok.”

“Great, see you later, Sweetheart.”

“Bye, Lew.” You sigh as you hang up the phone and shove it into your pocket, before going to the kitchen, where your dad is sitting at the table on his phone.

“We can put it in the living room, but we need to leave it on the furniture dollies.” You state as he looks up from his phone. “I’ll mail them back home to y’all, lord knows no one else is moving anytime soon.”

“When do I get to meet your new roommate?” He asks as he gets up, and y’all both go to get the piano from outside. 

“You likely won’t, they’re busy, and won’t be back for a day or two.” You say as you begin to push the piano into the house and towards the living room. Your dad doesn’t have a response to that, and you both carry on. He leaves an hour later after making sure you had everything, and goes to his hotel for the night before he leaves in the morning.

Lewis comes back home around eight pm to see you in your pajamas dancing around as you pull stuff out of boxes and put them in places around the kitchen. ‘Lover, You Should’ve Come Over’ by Jeff Buckley was playing throughout the house. The lyrics were ringing in his ears as he listened to you sing them.

“My body turns And yearns for a sleep that won't ever come It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles When I've slept so soft against her It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever Oh, but maybe I'm just too young To keep good love from going wrong”

You spun around to get a box from near the door when you finally saw him, your smile beaming as your eyes lit up. You turned down the music but didn’t turn it off as you walked over to him, where he leaned against the door frame. He smiled at you as you came to a halt in front of him. He reached out and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and rested his chin on your head, as your arms wrapped around his waist. 

“How was the drive?” He asks, voice quiet.

“Long, but good, Dad’s heading out tomorrow morning.” You murmur against his chest.

“I missed you,” his voice was thick with emotion.

“Hey, I was only gone like three days,” you pull back and put your hands on either side of his face. “What are you going to do when you go on tour, or leave to film? Can’t just put me in your pocket and go with.” You giggle as he pouts at you.

“So where’s this mysterious car you were worried someone wouldn’t be able to drive?” He asked.

“In the garage, you can see it tomorrow. Right now, you have to help me move the piano into the studio.” You say as you pull out of his hold entirely to walk to the living room. 

You both got the piano into the studio successfully without damaging any of the equipment, but it was significantly more difficult than either of you thought it would be and took a whole hour; you both collapsed into a heap onto the couch after.

Over the following weeks, you and Lewis got to know each other more. You learned about how went to college to be a social worker, and he learned that you went to trade school and had a shit ton of certifications in different fields, so you could do odd jobs while you traveled. You both continued to bond over music, with him being the drummer for his band, and you as a ‘classically’ trained musician. 

During those weeks, your stuff had started to appear all over the house, goofy mugs sat on the drying rack by the sink, and in the cabinets, books of various genres littered bookshelves, and at least 2 of your blankets could be found in the living room, car parts were sitting in boxes in the garage waiting to be installed either onto your car or his truck, and sheet music could be found on almost any flat surface within the house. Your jackets and shoes had made homes in his entryway. And the number of plants around the home had skyrocketed.

~ 

Danny wasn’t sure he had the right house when he pulled up; the porch had a significantly larger number of potted plants than he remembered from his time living with Lewis. The garage door was open, and he could see a wicked-looking car inside that he didn’t think Lewis could ever justify buying for himself. But he double-checked the address, and it was Lewis’s house, and it was the day they had planned to meet up.

Lewis had told him that he could come straight in when he got there, and he did have his own key after all. He paused at the front door. He could hear music playing throughout the house, and he was sure that if he did have to knock, whoever was inside wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Unlocking the door, he was greeted by the smell of food coming from the kitchen and the sound of singing, which wasn’t Lewis's.

“Hey Lewis, I’m here!” He yelled into the house as he was taking his shoes off, before heading towards the kitchen. When Danny walked into the kitchen, he wasn’t expecting to see you at the dining table, in what appeared to be one of Lewis’s shirts and a pair of pants covered in paint. You were on a laptop and had a notebook next to you, and were chewing on the end of a pencil as you stared at the screen in front of you.

“Lew’s in his office,” you say, jamming a finger in that direction without looking up from your laptop. “Tell him lunch is almost ready and if he wants some he needs to get his butt out here in the next five minutes.” You add before you scribble something down in your notebook. Before you stand, crack your back and pick up your things, and leave the kitchen.

Danny was not expecting that to be how you would act, but he still wasn’t even sure who you were, and you left before he could even get a word in. Deciding to find Lewis, he goes to his office and knocks on the door. Lewis opens the door and up seeing Danny, smiles brightly.

“Hey man,” He pulls Danny into a hug.

“There was a random person in your kitchen who told me to tell you, quote unquote ‘lunch is almost ready and if he wants some he needs to get his butt out here in the next five minutes.’” Danny said after they separated.

“That’s my supposed stray I picked up a month ago.” Lewis laughed and started for the kitchen.

“Wait, they’re actually living with you?” Danny asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah. Moved in officially like a week and a half after we got back.” Lewis answered. 

When they reached the kitchen, the music had been turned down, and you were pulling something out of the oven. It smelled even better than it did earlier. You set down the lasagna on a marble slab in the middle of the dining table, which had been set for three people. Once your hands were empty, Lewis decided to introduce you both.

“Danny, this is the stray,” He says, gesturing to you, “Sweetheart, this is Danny Ramirez.” You stick out your hand to shake Danny’s.

“Nice to meet you, Danny. Lew’s been singing your praises the past few days.” You say voice fond as you glance at Lewis.

“Nice to meet you as well, though I haven’t heard as much about you, I’m afraid,” Danny says as you release his hand and move to sit down. 

“Not surprising, I’ve asked Lewis to keep me under wraps, people aren’t my forte.” You reply.

“That explains why I haven’t heard about you since that first phone call,” Danny says, sitting across from you at the table. At the mention of the phone call, you shoot a look towards Lewis as he goes to grab drinks, you can see that his ears are slightly pink, from where you are sitting.

“I wasn’t aware that Lewis had told anyone besides the band that I was living with him.” Your tone was curious as you looked back over to Danny.

“Haha,” Lewis gave an awkward laugh as he sat down. “Well, it was before you actually agreed you’d stay. “ Lewis muttered.

“Oh, so that’s who you were talking to before I came back to the truck. Gotcha.” Was your response.

playlist | part 1 part 2 part 4

Taglist: @smoothdogsgirl @bmyva1entine @daisydark @sadpetalsstuff @articel1967 @xblueriddlex @louloulemons-posts

[emeraldrush]

in Latino Power Supremacy we trust 🙏🏻🤍✨

[dance-is-life27]

Strangers

Costa Rican Cop x Reader

Summary: The stranger at the bar piques your interest, so of course, it ends with you in his hotel room for the night.

Warnings: 18+, smut, gender neutral reader, dry humping, blow jobs, sex with a stranger, drinking, no y/n, very little plot with porn, internet translated spanish, implication of a voice kink at the end cause I just couldn't help myself sorry, not beta read

A/n: Yes I wrote a whole fanfic for a character that has like 5 minutes of screen time, in my defense tho look at how hot he is!!

The sound of glass slamming against the bar top gets you to look to your left but the view of the man before you forces your eyes to stay on him. 

He's stunning, you notice the longer you look at him. From the furrow in his brows to the long slope of his nose to the short beard covering only his chin, all of his face just works together to easily make the most beautiful man you've ever met. His curls are slicked back and it makes you wonder what they would look like, wild and free-flowing, although with his crisp white button-up and black slacks on and an empty gun holster at his waist, it doesn't look like his job would permit something like that. What a shame. 

His head turns sharply towards you and it's clear that you've been caught, his piercing brown eyes narrow at you before they scan across your figure. His eyes assessing you but not quite undressing you. You smile at him when his eyes return back up but you only get a curt nod from the stranger before he turns his head and attention towards the bartender. 

You keep your eyes on him as you sip on your drink, glancing over at the stranger every now and then as it increasingly looks like he's trying to drown himself in his drink. Your curiosity gets the better of you when he slams back his third drink of the night since you've been here, and you haven’t been here very long, and you find yourself plopping down into the seat next to him. 

“What's on your mind, handsome?” You ask, watching as his body turns towards you, the harsh lines in his face almost deter you from even getting this close to him, let alone talking to him. Almost. 

“What’s it matter to you?” He asks in return, his voice thick with an accent that nearly makes a shiver run up your spine. 

You shrug, “It doesn’t, just seems like you could use someone to talk to.” His piercing stare doesn’t leave yours and you can see the gears turning in his head as he’s debating whether to tell you; as he’s debating whether to trust you. The stranger breaks first from the eye contact. Surprisingly, you figured he would’ve put up much more of a fight as he asks the bartender for a refill. 

He waits until the bartender leaves to give you an answer, “My wife wants a divorce,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair before he slumps in his seat, “and she wants full custody of our little girls.” The man downs nearly half of his drink, he doesn’t wince as it travels down his throat and he doesn't turn back towards you until you speak.

“Can I ask why?” 

The man scoffs before he answers, “She says I’m never home, never around, always working.” He lets out a heavy sigh before he downs the rest of his drink in mere seconds before your eyes. You don’t have it in you to look away at the path the liquid takes into and down his body. Luckily the stranger before you doesn’t notice. 

“You know, you won’t solve your problems by drinking them away.” 

He raises his brow at your words as he sets the glass back down on the bar top, “Oh yeah, what do you suggest I do then?” 

You shrug before you look away, watching the sunset through an open window, the clouds and sky are already dark, nearing their more purple and blue tones quickly, the sight mesmerizing you before you turn your head back to the brown-eyed abyss in front of you. His brow is still raised as he awaits your reply, you subconsciously lick your lips as you try to think of an answer and his eyes follow the movement. It makes a smirk appear on your lips before his eyes meet yours again. 

“I’m just sayin’, there are other ways to relieve stress, y’know.” You suggest, leaning your body forward a bit into his personal space. You're close enough to smell his cologne, the deep rich earthy scent infiltrating your nostrils. It’s intoxicating. The stranger leans in with you, not quite meeting you halfway but it's still close enough to let you know that he's interested in you.

“Is that what you want?” 

“Only if you do.” You reply as you watch his pupils dilate before you. Silence fills the air between the two of you, only the noise of the people and the bar surrounding you keep it from being completely pin-drop silent. 

A smirk grows on his lips before he responds, “Hmm, why not?” 

His kisses are surprisingly gentle as you stumble into his hotel room, though his hands that are gripping your waist as he presses you up against the door tell an entirely different story. The duality of both makes you moan into his mouth, already dizzy on the man’s touch and you’ve only just begun. 

His hips grind into you as the kiss deepens and you tug on his curls as your hips subconsciously buck up into his. Your mind is clouded with fog when his mouth moves to your jawline, each kiss tickling you as he travels down towards your neck. 

You toss your head back against the door as soft lips leave a dizzying trail down, eventually ending up at your collarbones. You can’t help but rock your body against his thigh that slipped between your legs at some time during the past few moments. His grip on your waist tightens as he guides you up and down his thigh and you let out a moan when you feel his kiss against your Adam's apple. 

“Please!” You moan out when it all gets to be too much, and you still haven’t even moved off the door yet. 

“Please what? What do you need?” His mouth trails back up your neck and gets dangerously close to your ear before he whispers, “You need me to fuck you?” The deep husk in his voice makes you clench around nothing, your neediness apparent in the way you nod near violently in response. 

“Yes, please!” A chuckle leaves his lips in response to your words before he pulls back, his hands still attached to your waist as he drags you towards the bed in the middle of the room. 

You watch as he begins to unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing to you the muscles and abs underneath, your mouth near drooling as he sheds himself of the first article of clothing on his body. “I can’t fuck you if you’re fully clothed, cariño.” His words force your attention back up to meet a cocky smile on his lips. One that makes you playfully roll your eyes before you begin undressing yourself. 

The both of you watch the other as you strip, piece by piece, clothing by clothing, all of it leaves you, ending up on the floor of his room. His eyes trail down your figure once you’re fully undressed, but this time he’s admiring more than he is assessing you. He stalks towards you slowly, moving at a snail’s pace as his hands find your waist once more. Rough calluses greet you at his touch and his fingertips glide, light as a feather against your skin, up towards your chest. 

You let out a moan as he cups what’s there, his hands kneading the soft of your flesh expertly. His fingers flicking lightly at your nipples that have you pushing into his hands for more. Your eyes roll back and your mouth slides open as he continues at a brutally soft pace he sets and the feel of him leaves you aching for more where you stand. 

“Qué linda eres.” He whispers, not giving you time to respond before his mouth captures yours into a passionate kiss. His hands move from your chest to the rest of your body, anywhere that’s within reach, each touch leaving a lingering invisible imprint on you. 

“Fuck-” you let out as you pull away from the man before you, your breathing unnatural as you try to catch your breath. You turn your head to avoid his intense gaze, his eyes boring into as if you're a puzzle that he’s trying to figure out. 

“Why’d you stop?” He asks you, his nose nuzzling with yours, effectively getting all of your attention back on him. You smile at him, setting a quick kiss on his lips before you sink down to your knees in front of him. 

“I told you I’d help you de-stress, didn’t I?”

He only wordlessly nods as you take his cock into your hand, wrapping your fingers around him easily. You start off slow, giving his cock lazy pumps to begin with. Each tug of your fingers gets him to buck into your hand slowly. 

“C’mon, quit teasing.” He huffs out and when you look up you see him tugging on his bottom lip in between his teeth, his head lowered and his eyes shut tightly. He looks heavenly, you think as you swirl your tongue around his cock, watching his jaw fall open and his closed eyes relax. 

You find yourself moaning as you take him deeper into your mouth, the hefty weight and the musky taste of his cock invading your senses. You let your mind go blank as you bob your head, letting your tongue explore all the parts of the stranger above you. 

He lifts a hand to push his curls out of his face, the once neat slicked back look having long since disappeared. His other hand comes up to rest at the back of your head, the touch doing nothing more than just being there, one that doesn't ask or force more than what you're giving. 

“Shit, just like that, baby.” The man above you groans as you continue. Your rhythm slows as you hollow your cheeks around him. “Dios, esa maldita boca tuya.” The stranger groans out, his hips twitching each time you pull back until you pull completely off him, allowing yourself to pant needily over his cock before you swirl over his tip with your tongue. 

“I want you to come in my mouth.” You request, your own voice raspy and winded as you try to catch your breath. 

Something glazes over the strangers eyes before he smirks at you, “Fuck, you sure?” You can only nod in response before you start again, when you hollow your cheeks around him again a groan leaves his mouth that leaves your head spinning. 

Your eyes slide shut in anticipation, every inch of you buzzing with need. It's then that you raise your hands to grip at his waist, no doubt leaving indents in the shape of your nails along his lower back. The stranger's hips twitch underneath your palms and then his cock twitches a few seconds later. It's the only warning you're given before your mouth is flooded with warmth. 

You lean back, leaving only his tip in your mouth as his cum fills your throat. The salty taste etches into your taste buds in a way that leaves you aching for more as you swallow all that he has to offer. It's not until he pulls you off of him that you finally look up.

The man above you doesn't smile at you, doesn't acknowledge the way that you gasp for air, he doesn’t thank you in any verbal way, instead he just helps you to your feet. His brown eyes locked onto yours as if you're the only person on this planet. The seconds pass by quickly as his eyes drift towards the bed beside you both and then back towards you, the desire that filled them before intensifying. 

“Get on the bed, I'm not finished with you yet.” He speaks and you know then that his voice is going to haunt your every wet dream from this moment on. 

[spooksier]

*rips shirt clean off* hey guys can i talk about my ocs a little

☆ prints | patreon | comics ☆

heehoo some more stuff…

[peachesandcreames]

Behind the Scenes Cuteness 💞💕

[flowersforbucky]

begging for more joaquin fics pretty please, your writing is AMAZING, im in the middle of finals rn and it would heal me😩

hiiii!! i know this wasn't a formal request, and i plan to write something longer for joaquín soon, but here's a little blurb to hold you over until then! best of luck on your finals ✨️🫶🏻

reader is an adult/in college, not explicit but mdni, joaquín calls reader princesa, 432 words

“Baby,” Joaquín's voice startles you, causing you to lose your place on the page you'd been reading. Well, trying to read. After hours of near nonstop studying, all of the words on the page had started to blur together. You aren’t even sure how many times you’ve attempted to re-read the same paragraph at this point.

“You’ve gotta take a break. Get some fresh air, stretch your legs, eat something…”

He stands behind your desk chair, placing his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him as he massages his strong hands over the tops of your arms. He looks down at you with big, brown puppy dog eyes and you’re immediately flooded with guilt – you know you’ve barely paid any attention to him today, and you hate it as much as he does.

“I can’t,” you groan, closing your eyes at the sensation of his hands on your stiff muscles. “Not yet. I need to get through the rest of this chapter, and then three more after that before I can even think about taking a brea—”

He removes his hands, spinning your chair around to face him. Before you can protest, he drops to his knees in front of you.

“Nonsense,” he objects. He spreads your thighs ever so slightly, wedging himself between your legs. He rests his elbows on your thighs, propping his head in his hands. “You’ve been preparing for these finals for weeks, baby. You know this shit like the back of your hand. Burning yourself out the day before your test isn’t going to do you any good.”

You sigh, knowing that he has a point. You lean forward, running your fingers through his hair before pressing your lips to his forehead.

“I’m just nervous. And ready for this to be over. I miss you.”

He laughs. “Well, I'm right here. Why don’t we go get some food? When we get back home, I’ll help you finish up this chapter.”

Your stomach has been growling for the last hour. You suppose taking a break for some much needed food and much needed time with your boyfriend isn’t a totally bad idea.

He's too cute to say no to.

“Okay. But I get to pick where we eat.”

He breaks into a toothy grin that immediately boosts your mood tenfold. He stands, hoisting you up with him. With his arms now wrapped around you, he pulls you flush against him before slating his lips over yours. There’s a faint hint of his favorite energy drink on his lips; fruity and familiar.

“Anything you want, princesa.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡

i don't do super short drabbles very often but this ask planted a tiny little idea in my head so 🤗

[storiesaplenty]

Miscellaneous Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: smut under the cut. Secret relationship. Oral (m receiving) cum swallowing. P in V. Unprotected sex. Creampie.

WC : 944

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Manny & you are in a secret relationship, as he is your brother's best friend. You two have to get any alone time you can, even when Manny is on watch.

"Manny. Come in. Over." Came the distant sound of Abby's voice on the walkie, but it sounded hazy to me as my eyes were closed and I could only focus on the woman kneeling in front of me.

Her mouth moving up and down my cock as my hands rested on the back of her head, letting her go at her own pace.

Her hands were placed on my quivering thighs.

Her nails digging into my skin, leaving her own little mark on me that only I know about.

I groaned as she pulled her mouth away from me, forcing my eyes open as I wanted to complain, but my voice got caught in my throat, as I watched her stick out her tongue and lick the underside of my cock.

Smiling the whole time as my cock basically rested against her face.

I was going to tell her how good she was doing, but my praise was cut off by the sound of Abby's voice once more.

"For fuck sakes, Manny, you didn't fall asleep did you?"

I grabbed the walkie that I placed on the chair next to me, wanting to say that I was a bit busy getting a blown by my best friend's sister, but I composed myself.

"I was taking a leak. Over."

"Next time take the walkie. Over." Abby told me like I was some child.

I opened my mouth to tell Abby to fuck off, but that was when she took me complete down her throat, but that came out was a long-drawn out moan.

My free hand gripping the back of her head once more, holding her in place as I gently raised my hips.

"What the fuck was that?" Abby questioned as I kept my pace.

"Stubbed my toe. What do you need? Over." I didn't dare say Abby's name at that moment. Not when she is looking up at me with tears in her eyes as I held her head still.

"Are we good to go?" Over."

I placed the walkie down, grabbed tbe binoculars, and did a quick scan, before placing the binding back down and picking up the walkie for the final time, hopefully.

"All clear. Over." I said before dropping the walkie on the chair and standing, still holding her head as I pulled my hips back to thrust into her mouth, over and over again, until her name fell from my lips in a loud groan as my cum filled her mouth.

I could feel her swallowing as fast as she could, and didn't stop until I pulled my softening cock out of her mouth.

Her gasping for air as she licked her lips.

I helped her to her feet, kissing her hard, not caring that I could taste myself on her lips.

If anything, that seemed to make me almost feral, as I kissed her hard.

My cock slowly getting hard once more as I muttered for her to turn around, and place her hands against the desk.

She did as I asked, lifting her skirt of her dress over her ass, and I couldn't help but smirk at her going commando.

I smacked her bare ass, watching with glee as she gasped, and whimpered at the sting.

She spread her legs and bit more as I stood behind her.

My cock was gripped firmly in my hand, and I was just about to push it in, when she became impatient. "Just put it in already, Manny." She demanded.

Her tune quickly changed after I slapped her soaked pussy, making her squeal as she pulled her hips away from me, but I just tutted and pulled her back towards me once again.

"What have I said about acting like a brat?" I whispered in her ear as I leaned over her body.

I felt her shiver at how close I was.

"I'm sorry Manny. I really am. I just need you, baby."

I kissed her between her shoulder blades, softly smiling to myself as I heard her apologise to me.

"Shh, shh. I got you." Was all I said before slamming my hips forward and burying my cock in her pussy in one go.

I covered her mouth just as she let out a loud whine, not wanting to draw any attention to the two of us.

We are up high, but knowing our luck, someone would hear, as no one knows about us.

After I told her to be quiet, I gripped her hips just as I pulled out of her pussy, and thrust back into her.

I did this over and over again.

Each thrust deep, and hard.

I could just imagine the look on her face.

Eyes glazed over, while being half-closed.

Her mouth hanging open, as she said my name over and over again.

Her walls started to flutter around my cock as I fucked her, and I knew she was close.

I reached around her body and placed my hand at her throat, and started to squeeze.

That is all she needed as she groaned my name, as her pussy started to spasm around my cock as she came.

I couldn't hold back, as I never do when I make her cum.

I groaned as my hips stuttered before finally stopping, my cum spilling into her as we both tried to catch our breath.

I pulled out of her, watching as my cum slowly leaked out of her well, fucked pussy.

She turned around, and I couldn't help but kiss her again.

"Love you, baby." I said to her.

Always making sure I say it to her.

"I love you too, Manny."

[backtothefanfiction]

Oh Baby | PART TWO: SETTLING IN SEATTLE

Manny Alvarez x Reader Insert

Summary: You and the gang settle into your new lives with the WLF

Warnings: MATURE!, pregnancy, angst, fluff, manny is a bit of a jerk, swearing, guns! We are playing fast and loose with both the timeline and general story canon, if that’s gonna bother you, don’t read.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Hi, so here is part 2 of Oh baby. Thank you so much for the love and support on part 1, I can’t wait to share the full story arc I have planned for this. I’m sorry there isn’t a tag list, I’ve just come to realise I’m just really shit at keeping one. The series will be listed in the South Wing of my library (masterlist) from here on out so will be easy to find for future reference. If you really want to make sure you don’t miss an instalment when I post (I’ve not really thought out a schedule with this, just gonna post whenever) then maybe hit the follow button as an extra security. Anyway, Manny is a bit of a dick for a bit during this chapter, but his heart is in the right place, so we can’t be mad right? Right?

It took another day and a half of trekking through the snow to get there, the high snow drifts making it near impossible most of the time to move through the woods, but you made it- and you’d only thrown up twice in that time. You were considering that a win. Manny remained close to you for the whole journey, but never too close to draw too much attention to you both. But he kept a constant eye on you.

When he noticed you weren’t being sick again he tried to encourage you to eat some more, even sneakily offering you some of his own rations. You had tried to push them away, worried that this blessed nausea free break would be ruined by you suddenly adding food back to your stomach again. But he was pushy and wouldn’t take no for an answer- and you were glad he didn’t, thankful when your body remained settled and you were able to enjoy the first lot of food you had kept down in days.

You all mostly walked in silence, all of you conserving your energy as you moved through the howling cold as quickly as you possibly could. When you made it back towards the road things became a little bit easier again, however by that point the fatigue in your body was so great that no matter how much closer you were getting to the city, it still felt like it was miles towards your destination.

Once again you slowly began to fall behind. The cold air made your lungs burn. Your legs were starting to cramp from walking too much and you desperately just wanted to sleep.

“How much further?” you asked Manny as he doubled back to where you had finally come to a stop, your body hunched over, hands braced on your thighs as you desperately tried to get your breath back and muster enough energy to go on.

“I’d say maybe another hour and a half?” he said, turning his head to look for a marker against the city skyline to where the WLF were camped out.

You stood back up to look for the marker yourself, but your eyes were too tired from both your fatigue and the endless white that continued to surround you from all sides.

“Have I ever told you I hate the snow,” you panted, as you tried to instead focus on the man before you and find some solace and energy in him.

“No,” he muttered, his focus split on attending to you and keeping an eye on how far ahead the others were.

“I grew up in Arizona,” you muttered, “not all that much snow in the desert,” you complained and it made him chuckle.

You watched as he took one more look over his shoulder at the others, before his eyes softened. “Come here,” he said, reaching out for your backpack.

You reluctantly let him, once again, shift some of the items from your bag into his to lighten your load and take some of the strain off of your body.

“Thanks,” you said, as you moved to put it back on, the weight of it considerably less. You wondered how heavy his pack must be now, but you knew this was yet just another one of his ways to try and make amends with you.

“So you really think this is a good idea?” you said to him as you slowly began to walk again.

“I mean if you’d asked me yesterday before you told me-“ he hesitated as he struggled to say the words ‘you’re pregnant’ out loud, but you couldn’t blame him, nor did you actually need him to say it for you to understand. He blinked hard and swallowed down the unspoken words before he continued. “I would have said yes. And considering the current weather and the fact our supplies are running dangerously low, I won’t deny, I still think it’s the right move to make. Whether or not it’s a long term solution though?” he said, airing his thoughts, “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I’ve heard Isaac can be quite the hard ass,” you confided as you looped your thumbs through the straps of your pack and hoisted it higher on your back as you walked.

“That may be, but if it means he keeps control of the city and we get to settle down in one place for a while…” he offered, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find a conclusion for his train of thought, but you got the gist of where it was headed.

—————————————————

“So how do we do this?” you asked as you approached the old media tower that the WLF had made their main base and finally caught up with the others. “Do we just knock on the door and show them our old fireflies necklaces or?”

You didn’t have time to receive an answer as the doors suddenly flew open and a surge of WLF members came out onto the front steps with their guns trained on the six of you. You immediately froze, your hands instinctively flying up into the air in a show of surrender, but to your surprise Manny stepped forward to block your body with his own. He had a hardened and protective look on his face, but it was a stance you knew was meant to protect everyone, not just you.

“Wait, don’t shoot!” Mel eagerly said, stepping forward, moving her backpack into view and showing off her old fireflies necklace. “We’re former fireflies. We were told by one of your scouting parties in the area we would be welcomed here,” she said optimistically, but your heart was still in your throat.

One of the leaders of the WLF pack lifted a finger and signalled for you to wait where you were. He gave a look to the woman beside him, silently telling her to be vigilant and keep the rest of the pack's eyes trained on you all, as he moved back inside the door to radio to his superior and give them an update.

It was an agonising wait that had your toes tapping with restlessness as you tried to focus on staying calm and optimistic. But on the inside you were mentally berating yourself for ever letting you all go through with this crazy plan.

“You got names?” The man came out again and asked and slowly each one of you introduced yourselves. He didn’t seem to react to any of them until he heard Manny’s and he seemed to grow a little starstruck. Once he had collated your names, he hovered back inside the doorway again to radio them to the superior once more and you were left frowning at the back of Manny’s head as you wondered why the man had reacted that way.

Another couple minutes went by of you all waiting out in the cold, before you were given the all clear to finally enter the building and you let out a low breath of relief as you followed everyone else inside. You stuck close to Manny’s back as you all climbed the stairs single file up to the 4th floor. He took one look back just to check where abouts you were, but you could see him relax when he realised you’d kept yourself close.

“You’ll wait in here,” the man who had led you in said, as he ushered you all into an old conference room that still housed an old wooden table and a mass of swivel chairs.

Although the group of you had been left in the room alone, it was clear from the shadows through the glass in the door, that a couple of WLF members had been placed there on guard to keep an eye on you all just in case.

Although you had been tired the whole way there, the adrenaline from having numerous guns pointed at you was still coursing through your body and you found yourself unable to sit still. You instead moved towards the windows that lined the back wall of the room and took a moment to look out at the snow covered city.

“What do you think they did with all the infected?” you asked, noticing the completely empty streets, but knowing from the fact you had all walked in here with no problem, there wasn’t any fence or defenses like they had in Jackson to keep them all out.

“Probably forced them underground,” Manny’s voice replied quietly, as he hovered looking out the window at your side.

—————————————————

You all waited in exhausted silence for what felt like nearly an hour before someone came to speak to you all. He was a black man of average build, but his presence in the room was immediately all encompassing and commanding.

He came to a halt at the end of the long conference room table before slapping a handful of paper files onto the table top with a heavy slap. Slowly you all came to hover around the table to accept your fate.

“Looks like you all check out,” he said firmly, yet his voice had a softness that told you you no longer needed to be on edge. His fingers slowly began to fan out the different files, his eyes dipping to scan the names on each of them.

“I will say though, many of your fellow fireflies who have sought refuge with me and my ranks thought you dead, as none of them have seen or heard anything about you in months.” He hesitated as he let his steady words permeate the air. “Anyone like to enlighten me as to what you’ve all been doing in that time?”

“We had a personal mission we were carrying out,” Abby spoke up confidently, before quickly adding a ‘Sir,’ as a formality.

“And what kind of personal mission would that be?” he asked, his attention focused on her.

“We were tracking down the man who attacked our base out in Salt Lake City,” she supplied.

“And was the mission successful?” the man asked.

“Yes, sir,” she said coldly and without feeling.

You didn’t know how she could be so closed off to what she had done. How she had acted. Even just thinking back to the way that man, Joel, had looked lying on the floor, his body bruised and bleeding, was enough to make your stomach turn again. The memory of the young woman’s screams echoed around your ears and you leant forward slightly to brace yourself against the table, your knuckles growing white as they wrapped around the edge.

You could feel Manny shooting you a subtle look of concern from your side, but you ignored it, not wanting to bring more attention to yourself than you already had.

“Which one of you is Manny Alvarez?” The man at the head of the table finally asked, his eyes flitting between Manny and Owen. But with a name like Alvarez, you thought it was easy to work out which two of the men it was he was looking for.

“Me,” Manny said, raising his hand slightly to get the man’s attention.

“The file we’ve got on you says you come highly recommended,” he said, singling out one of the files in front of him and flicking it open. “I’m told you’re good with a rifle and have a near perfect shot record.”

“Yes, sir,” Manny confirmed.

“Good, we could do with someone like you upstairs,” he said, before finally dragging his gaze back to the rest of you. “We’ll try and find you all accommodation. Training and drills will begin tomorrow at 08:00 hours. You’ll have 1 week to prove your worth, or you’ll be back out on the streets, you hear me.”

“Yes, sir,” you all affirmed

“Good,” he praised softly, picking back up the files and beginning to move towards the door again. “Oh,” he said, doubling back a step and turning back towards us. “My names Isaac by the way. And welcome to the WLF.”

—————————————————

TWO AND A HALF MONTHS LATER

The six of you had been split between two rooms. After a small debate it was decided that Abby, Owen and Mel would take one room, whilst you, Manny and Nora took the other. You were grateful too, because then neither you or Manny had to hide what was going on between you (not that Nora wanted many details, but you could speak freely even when she was around and it made things less stressful).

You had all completed the WLF initial trials, not that there had been any doubt that you would, being ex-fireflies and all, but it was a weight off knowing you could stay. You had regular food, a place to sleep, a steady routine that made the long winter days go by fairly quick.

You and Manny had managed to keep your little secret under wraps fairly well, the only issue being when you all had a physical. Although the nurse was supposed to report the result back to the doctor, you had managed to get her to take pity on you and have her sweep it under the carpet for the moment. After all, given everything else you had going on with the WLF, you still expected yourself to miscarry and this whole thing to resolve itself naturally. But that didn’t happen.

Your morning sickness had gotten better over the last few weeks, you were only throwing up once a day (if that). You were sleeping better at night allowing you to feel less fatigued in the day and you were finally starting to get some colour back into your cheeks now the weather was starting to turn.

The last of the snow had melted well over a week ago now, bringing with it fresh flowering buds on the trees and an influx of greenery to surround you. You had always loved Spring and that cycle of new life that began to emerge everywhere you looked. It always reminded you that things could so easily change and that even on the bleakest of days, something new was just around the corner. It gave you hope.

However the changing weather didn’t just bring new life to your surroundings. Just like the warmer weather had started to bring all of you out of hibernation, it did the same for the infected.

There had been many talks and meetings over the last week on how you were all going to combat it. More patrols. More groups marching through the streets to show the WLFs force.

You and Manny were often split up during the day, him relegated to camping out upstairs in the watchtower, whilst you were left to act as one of the many boots on the street. Luckily you usually had either Mel or Nora with you to watch your back and ease Manny’s mind, but it still didn’t stop him from worrying about you night and day.

“We’re going to have to say something at some point,” he said as he lay on his single bed across the room staring up at the ceiling, throwing and catching a small ball to keep his hands busy whilst he thought.

“And what if I’m still not ready for that,” you said as you rolled onto your side on your own bed to face him.

It was a small room with a set of bunk beds against the wall on one side and a single bed on the other. There were three lockers placed at the ends of each of the beds for storage and a single extra chair in a corner by the door. You had taken the bottom bunk so that Manny could better keep an eye on you, leaving the top bunk for Nora.

“Well when will you be ready?” Manny rebuffed gruffly, catching the ball and sitting up to look at you properly. “I mean, you’re not going to be able to keep it a secret much longer,” he berated, but his tone wasn’t unreasonable. “We’re three months into this thing now. Isn’t that when they say you’re usually out of the woods? It’ll only be another couple of weeks before you start actually showing.”

“I know!” You said, cutting off his rant.

You’d been having the same conversation for days now. Manny had been protective of you from the second he found out you were pregnant with his child, but lately he’d stepped it up a notch.

“Just, give me a few more days, okay?” you reasoned with him as you rolled back over onto your back to stair at the slats in the bed frame above you.

“Promise,” he said, his eyes staring at you, but you didn’t meet them.

“Promise,” you sighed noncommittally, but it seemed to ease his mind. For the moment anyway.

—————————————————

That was until another week later and you were all pulled into a meeting with Isaac and a few other higher ups in the WLF.

“I need a strong team to go out and survey the Eastern blocks of the city. We’ve been having an insurgence of infected in that area and we need to work out where they’re coming from so that we can push them back,” Isaac said from the head of the table. “Manny, I want you and Abby to head up that group.”

“We’ll take the rest of our crew from Salt Lake,” Abby quickly offered up. “Pad it out with a few of-“

“No,” Manny quickly interjected, cutting her off. All eyes fell on him as the room went quiet. When he turned and met your eyes, you knew what he was going to do and you silently begged him not to, but he ignored you.

“We’re not taking the whole Salt Lake Crew,” he told her.

“What do you mean? Why not?” Abby commanded, her brow furrowed, eyes laser focused on Manny.

“Yes, Manny,” Isaac chimed in, “why not?”

“Manny,” you warned him, your voice low.

“No,” he turned and said to you, “I’m not letting you come with us.”

“Manny, please don’t do this,” you asked him calmly, trying to keep things from escalating before they’d even begun, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Why can’t Y/N come with us?” Mel asked from across the room.

Your eyes moved to Nora sat beside her and you silently pleaded with her to step up and say something. To counteract Manny before he could go any further. But she wouldn’t.

“Manny,” you turned back to him and nervously warned him again. You weren’t ready for this. You liked it just being the three of you that knew. The moment everybody else did they would look at you differently. And even if you were ready, this was definitely not how you wanted them to find out.

“She’s pregnant!” Manny blurted out before you could get out another word.

You glowered at him, a storm held in your eyes that told him how much you hated him right now. How betrayed you felt.

“Since when?” Owen asked, rising from his seat as he struggled to process the information.

When silence fell and it was clear Manny wasn’t going to say anything else, you finally bit the bullet and confessed. “I’m 3 months along,” you reluctantly told them.

“What?” They muttered between themselves, asking each other different questions and berating themselves for not realising. The only quiet one amongst your crew was Nora, who just stared at the two of you as the debris of the bombshell slowly settled.

“Well who’s the father?” Mel asked, still struggling to put all the pieces together.

“Well it’s fucking him isn’t it,” Owen snipped. “Why else would he know and the rest of us not.”

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Isaac said stoically, as you sat mortified in your seat. “After all, our repopulation efforts are just as important as all our other endeavours,” he continued, but somehow his words didn’t make you feel any better.

“This does change things a little, I guess,” he continued as the rest of the members of your crew in the room began to settle, “but Manny, I do believe the choice should be up to Y/N. We have had some pregnant recruits continue to partake in missions well into the late stages of their pregnancy-“

“I want to go!” You insisted, standing from your seat and leaning forward on the table with authority. You could feel Manny at your side shooting daggers back at you but you ignored him. “If everyone else is going, I want to go.”

“No!” Manny said forcefully. “Bringing you along will only compromise the mission.”

“How so?!” You interjected, rage beginning to rise in your voice. “I am still more than able bodied. I am keeping up with all the drills. I am still a highly skilled member of this team!”

“But I can’t guarantee your safety,” he stressed.

“Yes, I understand that and am prepared for any-“

“But I’m not!” he shouted back. “If you come with us, you will only be a distraction for the team. I don’t want anyone losing focus on the mission because they are too busy trying to protect you and watch out for you instead.”

“Then why the fuck did you tell everyone!” You spat back at him.

“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!” he shouted and the room went deadly silent. “Either of you,” he clarified more softly. “Permission to deny Miss Y/L/N’s attendance on this and future missions,” Manny said, turning to Isaac for a final ruling.

Isaac hesitated a moment, looking between you and Manny, silently weighing up the situation. But you saw the way he looked at Manny and you knew there was no going back. “Permission granted,” he finally affirmed and you fell like led back into your seat as you felt your fate finally settle on your shoulders.

—————————————————

You didn’t talk to him for a week after they returned. Refused to even look at him. How dare he bench you like this. It was ridiculous. He knew how much of an asset you were to that team, baby or not, and yet he still sidelined you- for what?

“You know, you can’t ignore him forever,” Nora said one evening when it was just the two of you in the room.

“Watch me,” you bit, irritated, but you both knew your words were meaningless.

“If it makes you feel better, he was in a grumpy as fuck mood the whole time. Carried this look of guilt on his face and almost got himself killed because he was still too distracted thinking about how he’d hurt you.”

“What?” You said, sitting up and leaning your head out from the bottom bunk to look up at her.

“The fucker was too in his head and wasn’t looking where he was going. Fell through the fuckin floor didn’t he. Thank fuck he caught himself before he could fall through the next floor. There was a fuck ton of infected down there,” she said. “I mean he still disturbed them and they came swarming up the nearest staircase, but thankfully we had enough time to hop back out the window and climb down the same way we went in before Abby and Owen torched the place.”

“Shit, is that why he’s been limping?” you found yourself asking concerned.

“See you do care,” she smirked.

“Oh shut up,” you spat back, flopping back down onto your back out of sight again.

Two minutes later, Manny was returning to the room freshly showered, a towel tucked tightly in at his hips, his damp curls still dripping down his back. His sudden presence made the room tense and it wasn’t long before Nora was shifting herself off the top bunk and making a quick exit.

“I’m gonna go take a shower too and give you guys some time to talk,” she said, grabbing her things before lightly skipping out the door.

Although she had given you space to talk, neither one of you was chomping at the bit to break the silence between you. That was until he let out a low groan as he settled himself down on the edge of the bed. When you finally chanced a glance his way, he had lifted his leg slightly to observe the large scab that ran down the length of his shin.

When he lifted his head and was met with your eyes, you felt caught, like a deer in headlights. But you didn’t move.

“That looks painful,” you finally said.

“Yeah. Was,” he replied. “But it’ll heal in about a week or so, no big deal,” he added, putting his foot back on the floor before standing up.

You continued to watch him as he pottered around the room collecting the things he needed to get dressed, laying them out on the end of his bed. “You just gonna sit there and watch me get dressed?” he asked with his back to you, as he lifted his arms and applied deodorant.

“Maybe?” you said, but you didn’t turn your eyes away. After all, it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him naked before.

“Fine,” he sighed, brashly turning around to give you a full eyeful of his junk as he finally dropped the towel.

Your eyes became glassy as they focused on his abs. You knew it was weird to just stare, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“You okay there?” he asked, as he rested his hands on his hips and waited for you to look away, but you weren’t fully there.

“Huh? What?” you finally said, blinking out of your daze and finally moving your eyes back up to his face. “Yeah- I’m fine,” you said, turning your body away from him fully and staring at the wall beside you.

You listened attentively to him as he continued to shuffle around and get dressed into his T-shirt and sweats, the usual items you all wore to bed. You heard the mattress springs groan as he finally sat himself back down on his bed and only then, did you turn around to look at him once more. He was sitting on top of the covers, his toes dangling over the edge of the bed. His arms were wrapped tightly around his knees and his fingers circled his wrist to hold them in place as he stared at you.

His face looked tormented and you wanted to ask him to unload his burdens on you, but you were also still pissed at him and liked that you were at least causing him some torture.

“You know I had to do it, right?” he said as an opener, but you didn’t respond. “You promised you’d say something and you didn’t,” he continued when all you gave him was silence. “What else was I supposed to do?” he said, his voice becoming irate when he couldn’t get a response from you.

Instead of answering, you rolled back to staring at the wall.

“Uhhhgg,” he groaned and you heard the sound of him running his open palm down his face in exasperation. “Look what do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?!” he finally barked, getting up and standing directly next to your bed.

“How about an actual fucking apology!” you turned and spat at him. “Did you think about that? You fucking out me to everyone and then sideline me from all further missions and you didn’t even apologise!” you barked back at him and his face fell.

You could feel your hormones coursing through your body. Feel your rage literally bubbling under your skin as it became flushed. All you could do was sit there and glower at him, words suddenly failing you. You were so mad- so angry- and you had no idea how to regulate that.

“Y/N-“ he said hesitantly.

“Don’t-“ you said, cutting him off. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are I’m sorry, just don’t,” you warned him and for once he actually looked frightened by you.

You both hesitated in silence for a moment, your eyes locked on one another as he waited for you to calm down. He listened to your breathing, counting the breaths out in his head as they gradually became deeper and longer.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said when your body began to soften and he knew you’d actually listen to him and accept it. “Please Y/N, I’m sorry,” he said, crouching down beside the bed so he was at eye level with you. “For all of this,” he added.

You sighed, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“It’s not all your fault,” you reassured him. “It takes two people to make a baby and we were both reckless,” you said, your words chosen carefully to let him off of the hook he had placed himself on.

“Yeah, but I-“ he started, but you cut him off again.

“But nothing,” you said. “We are both grown adults and just sometimes…” you paused, taking in another calming breath, “sometimes these things happen.”

He gently reached out his hand for yours that was resting over your stomach and you let him, his thumb rubbing soothing lines across the back of it as he tried to work out what to say.

“How were you while we were away?” he finally asked.

“You mean apart from being cooped up here?” you asked him. “I’m fine- we’re fine,” you corrected and your words made the corner of his mouth quirk up.

You remembered back to what he said in that meeting, ‘Because I don’t want to lose you… Either of you.’ Although those words had gotten your back up at the time, your anger at being pushed aside clouding any other feelings those words might have made you feel, you sure were feeling them now.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he suddenly frowned, leaning closer to you and you realised you had begun to cry.

“Uhhh, shit,” you said, wiping at your cheeks. “Just stupid hormones,” you explained, letting out a small laugh at yourself as the tears continued to roll down your cheeks. “You know yesterday, I cried over a cucumber. A fucking cucumber,” you laughed, remembering the absurdity of it all.

“Why? What did the cucumber do to you?” he said with his own lightness, as he continued to hold your hand and help you ride out this wave of emotions.

“Didn’t taste right,” you told him.

He let out a breathy laugh before he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a small tentative kiss there. “Kids not even four months yet and he’s already rejecting his vegetables,” he mused.

“Or she-“ you interjected, because there was really no way of knowing after all.

“Oh good, glad to see you two have made up,” Nora said as she stepped back into the room enrobed in a towel, her old clothes bunched up in her arms.

“Yeah,” you mused as you let your eyes roam over Manny’s side profile and you smiled. “We’ll see how long it lasts,” you joked and he turned back to you and smiled.

—————————————————

TO BE CONTINUED…

[musings-of-a-rose]

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia Masterlist

*=indicates smut or eventual smut (see fic warnings for details)

One Shots:

The Jet*

[ex0rin]

Close enough, welcome back Ash Garver! The Last of Us S02E02 | No Exit (2022)

[eclairemaire]

the sound of music pt.4

playlist | part 1 part 2 part 3

Pairing: Lewis Pullman x Reader Category: Fluff Summary: Stranded in a 24-hour diner in the middle of nowhere, you make an unlikely companion as you bond over the sound of music. Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: Swearing, fast-burn??? (idk), No mention of Y/N, Nicknames & petnames, mechanic-ish reader, musician reader, Reader is described very androgynously, but muscular and heavily tatted and pierced. (Lemme know if I missed any) Notes: This is part 4; it is shorter than the rest, but I hope everyone enjoys it. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; all characters are just that, characters, and have no ties to their real-life counterparts.

During lunch, Danny shared many stories about his time living with Lewis, what he was like on set, and how he was at the beginning of filming for Top Gun. You also shared a few stories about your time living with him for the past month or so. At some point, the topic changed to what you did for work.

“So what do you do for work?” Danny asked.

“Oh, you know this and that. I took on a variety of odd jobs while traveling to earn some extra cash. Before that, I restored and sold vintage cars while working part-time as a sales representative at a dealership to earn a commission.” You took a sip from your drink, noting that Lewis had brought you one of the alcohol-free seltzers from the fridge.

“So the wicked-looking car in the garage is yours?” Danny asked, setting his fork down next to his empty plate.

“Yup, had that thing since I was 19, I think? It was my second car that I ever owned, bought it as a rust bucket that was sitting in an old barn, fixed it up over time, and it eventually became what it is now.” You answer, standing and going to grab everyone's dishes, now that everyone has finished eating, but Lewis slapped your hand away and took your plate before grabbing his and Danny’s to put them in the dishwasher himself.

“That’s awesome, can I get a ride in it sometime…?” Danny started to ask, but saw Lewis behind you aggressively shaking his head and waving his arms around in a gesture that clearly meant ‘No DO NOT ask that’. But it was too late, when Danny looked back at you, you had this look on your face that screamed mischief and danger.

“Of course, but that car’s made for track racing more so than day-to-day driving, so you’ll have to wait for me to find an opening somewhere to take you. That Ok?” You still had that look, but slightly more manic. Danny looked from you to Lewis and saw that he had given up hope that Danny might survive the endeavor.

“Yeah, totally. So what do you do now that you live here?” Danny tried to steer the conversation back to your work.

“I’m currently unemployed, officially. I make passive income through affiliate programs and do commission work.” You reply, standing up, and grabbing your drink. 

“Speaking of, I’ve got to go finish working on my current commission. It was nice meeting you, Danny.” You smile at Danny, kiss Lewis on the cheek, and leave the kitchen.

Lewis sits back down at the table with two beers and places one in front of Danny. Danny is still looking towards the door you went through to leave the kitchen when Lewis nudges his shoulder. “You good, dude?”

“Your new roommate kinda scares me, but is so chill, I’m confused.” He replies while grabbing the beer in front of him and taking a swig, before finally looking at Lewis.

“They’re pretty great, aren’t they?” Lewis had a goofy smile on his face as he took a drink of his beer. 

“I thought I had the wrong house when I first pulled up outside,” Danny admitted. Lewis laughed at that. 

“Yeah, they’ve quite the green thumb, along with all their other talents, I’m not even sure there’s something they can’t do, to be honest,” he grinned.

“Man, you’re whipped.” Danny sighed. Looking around the kitchen, he could see all of Lewis’s things that he had when he lived with him, but he also saw so many new things, a mug rack now hung on the underside of a cabinet that had some of Lewis’s favorite mugs hanging there and a few others. One had a shakespeare quote on it, another was cow printed, and the bottom was pink with four nubs like a cow's udder, and a few others that he couldn’t see the details of. 

A large Dutch oven sat on the cabinets above the oven, and there was a crockpot on the counter next to a rice cooker that was definitely new to Lewis’s kitchen but was well-loved. 

There was new art on the walls beside the photos of Lewis’s family and the ranch. Photos of race cars and a family photo with each member holding helmets, wearing matching shirts, and two dogs sitting at their feet, another with the same family where each member was sitting on the hood of a car.

There were new magnets on the fridge too, one was a whale shark, which said ‘Atlanta Georgia Aquarium’ on it, another was a star with a small child’s face on it, and there was another that had a Star Wars reference. There were also coasters scattered around that looked like tiny vinyls.

“They really came through here like a hurricane, huh?” Danny said after he finished looking around.

Lewis shrugged, “I like it, they’re stuff complements mine.” 

Danny and Lewis eventually migrated to the living room and were talking there when you finally came out of your hiding spot.

You looked more put together now, your hair was styled, you had on a black crocodile belt, and a pair of maroon slacks that hugged your thighs like a second skin, showing off the muscles that resided there. You also wore a black dress shirt, top three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and a silver chain around your neck that was glinting in the low light. Your hands were covered in rings, and you had a Snoopy Timex on your left wrist, and your ears were now decked with jewelry. You had a pair of shiny black dress shoes in one hand and your phone in the other. As Danny looked closer, he could see ink on your forearms, and noticed for the first time you were decked in tattoos.

“Hey Lew, I’m not going to be home for dinner, a client called, and now I have this meeting I gotta get to. I’ll see you later when I get home.” You called out, before looking up and seeing them both sitting on the couch.

“You're going to a meeting?” Danny asked as he looked you up and down, his mouth hanging open a little. “You’re dressed like how we do when we walk the red carpet for a movie!”

“Yeah, high-profile client, doing some commission pieces for him.” You answer, walking in further and shoving your phone into your pocket, before running a hand through your hair.

“I don’t know when I’ll be home. He’s hosting a party and wants me there to meet some of his coworkers and investors. I’ll call you if I need anything; my ride should be here soon.” You reach for Lewis’s hand and give it a squeeze before leaving.

playlist | part 1 part 2 part 3

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