Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader
Summary: You help Joaquín get ready for a gala that he and Sam are attending – though because of the 'no plus ones' rule, Joaquín would rather stay with you instead... and he intends to convince you to let him.
Warnings: I don't think I use any pronouns or gender specific terms in this (please let me know if I do and I'll fix my warnings) but it is mentioned that reader has hair long enough for Joaquín to tangle his hands in. There are references to nudity. It's also slightly suggestive at times but nothing specific.
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Surprise! It's been a whole month since I last wrote for Joaquín, and then this morning I woke up to those photos of Danny at the Mission premiere and he is so Joaquín in them that I was inspired. I was literally plotting this out at work cause I couldn't stop thinking about how good he looked in that outfit and then I started working on this the second I got home. I'm actually so happy with how it turned out considering I haven't written for Joaquín in a month, but I have missed writing for him so much. I really hope all of you will love this! 💗
“Angel, I really don’t think that Sam would mind that much,” Joaquin calls from the bathroom, fresh out of the shower. He hooks a towel around his waist and moves to stand in the doorway so he can see you, sitting cross legged on the bed, staring down at your phone. “I seriously think he’d be cool with going alone.”
You look up from your phone, eyes falling on your half-naked boyfriend, and forget how to speak for a moment. His hair is still wet and so is his chest – he’d clearly forgotten to dry himself off properly, wanting to talk to you so badly and attempt to convince you to let him stay home again.
Ever since he’d found out that there were no plus ones allowed at the gala he and Sam had been invited to, he had decided that he didn’t want to go. Sam was going to be there too, so it wasn’t like he was going alone, but for some reason, the simple fact that you couldn’t go made it so that he didn’t want to go either.
“Are you listening to me, angel?”
You blink, tearing your eyes away from his chest where you’d apparently been staring, and nod. “I am, but you’re still going to the gala, Joaquin. You made a promise to Sam.”
Joaquin pouts a little and walks across the room towards you. You try not to focus on the fact that the towel around his waist is tied incredibly low and instead, look at the wet footprints he’s leaving as he walks.
“Baby, you’re gonna get the carpet wet!” You scold him, standing up from the bed just as he reaches you. You place your hands on his chest and start to push him backwards towards the bathroom. “Dry yourself off before you come out here. You know better.”
Joaquin’s pout turns into a grin as he’s pushed backwards by you. He finds it adorable when you get so frustrated over the small things like that, and the fact that your hands are on his bare chest is just a bonus. “Well, stay with me in the bathroom while I dry off, then, cause I don’t wanna have to yell at you just to talk to you,” he says, allowing himself to be pushed back to the bathroom.
“Fine,” you sigh, moving to take a seat on the toilet lid.
You try your best not to stare as Joaquin undoes the towel around his waist and gets to work drying himself off. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before – the man does have a habit of wearing nothing or very little around the house – but it still has the same effect on you every time. You make an effort to look at his face instead.
“I can just text Sam and tell him I’m sick or something,” Joaquin suggests, trying to get back to the topic of the gala. “He wouldn’t know if I’m lying or not.”
You groan and lean back against the cistern. “Baby, you are not lying to Sam about being sick. It’s just a few hours. You’ll probably really enjoy yourself when you’re there. It’ll go so fast and then you’ll be home.”
Joaquin picks up his boxers and pulls them on, frowning to himself as he does. He’d really thought that maybe, you watching him dry off after his shower might give you a reason to finally relent and let him stay home… he’d clearly underestimated your ability to stay true to your word. “You won’t be there, though. It’s not going to be as fun if you’re not there with me.”
“So you never had fun before you met me?”
He turns to look at you, a cheeky smile on his face. “Never.”
You roll your eyes and pick up his dress pants, sitting beside you on the vanity, and throw them at him. “Just get dressed, silly.”
“I’m just saying,” Joaquin says, catching the pants and pulling them on. “I’d have so much more fun if I stayed home with you. I’m sure I could could come up with something we could do. There are so many options.”
He does the button on the pants up and looks at you, eyebrows raised. You can tell by the look on his face exactly what he’s thinking and shake your head, trying not to laugh.
“C’mon, angel. What do you say?” He hums, taking a few steps closer to you and reaching down to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. This is definitely going to work. He knows that you’ve always been susceptible to his touch.
Joaquin almost smiles as you stand up and place your hands on his chest. He places his own hands on your waist and tugs you a little closer to him.
“Baby,” you start, and Joaquin nods at you, his eyes wide and full of hope. “I love you, but I swear if you don’t pick up that dress shirt right now, put it on and finish getting ready, I’m never touching you again. That means no hugs, no kisses, no–”
Joaquin groans and steps back away from you. “You’re killing me here, angel.”
“You’ll live,” you laugh, sitting back down on the toilet lid.
He picks up the dress shirt from the vanity and pulls it on, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. The pout on his lips is so cute that you almost stand right back up and kiss him, but you know that if you do, there’s no way Joaquin is leaving the house.
“I might not,” Joaquin huffs, starting to do the buttons up on his shirt. “It’ll be hours without you. I’ll be all alone in a giant room full of strangers.”
You watch as he does the buttons up all the way to the top and can’t help yourself from standing up and taking a few steps towards him. The pout on his mouth stays in place.
“You’re the most social person I know, Joaquin. Since when do you fear a room full of strangers?” You ask, reaching up to the top button of his shirt. “Anyway, I’ll be eagerly waiting for you to come home if that makes you feel any better.”
Joaquin’s hands find your waist again as you unbutton the top button of the shirt. His breath hitches. Has he finally won you over just by being fully dressed and pouty? His grip tightens on your waist as you unbutton the next button. Then, you drop your hands.
“Angel.”
“There, all done,” you smile, leaning up to peck his lips. “Now, come on. I’ll dry your hair and style it for you and then you’ll be all ready to go. Sam will be here soon anyway.”
You move to step away from him and walk out of the room but Joaquin is quick to pull you back to him. Before you have a chance to object, his lips are on yours. You moan a little at the contact which only spurs Joaquin on more. His hands slip underneath the fabric of your pyjama shirt as he manoeuvres you up and onto the vanity behind you. He uses one hand to push your legs apart so he can stand between them. The other hand moves to tangle in your hair.
It takes every ounce of control not to start unbuttoning the rest of Joaquin’s shirt as he kisses you. You can’t even fist the fabric in your hands, not wanting to crease it when he’s about to leave for a fancy gala. His hair, though, is open territory. Despite the fact that it’s still damp, one of your hands weaves its way into it and you can’t help but tug a little. The noise he makes into your mouth is one you wish you could hear over and over again.
Reluctantly, Joaquin has to pull away to breathe soon. His forehead falls against yours, his breathing heavy. One of his hands rests on your thigh, the other one that had been in your hair now gently holding the back of your neck.
“You ready for me to dry your hair now?” You ask, voice a little teasing.
Joaquin rolls his eyes and stands up straight. “You can’t seriously expect me to still go to the gala after that, can you?”
Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and push him back a little, just enough for you to stand up off of the vanity. His hands stay firmly on you, the one that had been on your thigh now resting on your hip instead.
“You say that as if I’m the one who initiated that, baby.”
He can’t help but laugh a little at that. You were right – he had been the one to initiate the kiss. He just hadn’t expected you to get quite as into it as you had. “Okay, fair call.”
You reach down to take one of his hands. “C’mon, baby.”
Joaquin allows himself to be dragged out of the bathroom by you and smiles a little at the fact that only minutes ago, you’d been pushing him back into the bathroom and now you’re dragging him out of it. He allows you to dry his hair, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running through it and the warm air from the hairdryer. He especially enjoys the fact that you lean down once it’s all dry and kiss him just behind his ear. He almost turns around and tugs you down onto his lap then and there. He’s surprised he manages to stop himself.
It’s not too long later that you’re standing beside him just inside the front door of your house. There’s a limo outside waiting to pick up Joaquin to take him to the gala. Sam’s already waiting inside, probably very impatiently.
“You sure it’s too late to back out?” Joaquin asks, his arms wrapped around you, hands resting on the small of your back. “I could still pull the ‘hey, I’m feeling sick all of a sudden’ card.”
“No, Joaquin,” you shake your head. “You’re going.”
He groans and throws his head back. “Ugh, fine.”
You take advantage of the situation to stand up on your tip-toes and press a kiss to his neck, right above his Adam’s apple. You can feel him tense up at the sudden contact and feel satisfied that you’ve succeeded in your intentions as you see the look in his eyes.
“What was that for?”
“I’m just giving you another memory to think of when you’re out tonight,” you shrug your shoulders. “You look so handsome that I couldn’t help myself. You should wear shirts like this more often.”
Joaquin chuckles. “Thank you, angel. I think I need another memory though.”
He leans in and kisses you again. It’s only a quick kiss, even though he’d like nothing more than to make it more than that, but it’s good enough for him.
As soon as you break away, there’s the sound of the car horn honking outside – Sam’s way of telling Joaquin to hurry the hell up.
“Now, you really have to go,” you laugh, pulling yourself out of his arms to open up the front door. You shiver a little at the cool evening air and it makes Joaquin want to wrap you up in his arms all over again. “Baby, come on.” You reach out and grab his hand, pulling him forward until he’s finally out on the doorstep.
Joaquin smiles at you, just enjoying the feeling of holding your hand.
“Okay, you go out and have a good night, okay? Text me when you’re on your way home. I’ll try and stay awake for you as long as I can,” you give his hand a squeeze and then let go.
“I won’t be late, I promise. I don’t wanna keep you up,” he says. Joaquin isn’t going that easily, though. He steps forward and gives you another quick kiss. “I love you, angel.” The words are murmured against your lips. “I want more kisses when I’m home, okay?”
Laughing, you gently push him away from you. “Hurry up, you’re keeping Sam waiting!”
“Only when you say you love me too!”
“I love you too. Now go!”
Joaquin grins and finally turns around, starting to walk down the path towards the car. He’s about half way there when he turns on his heel and starts running back to you. You watch him, amused, as he makes his way back towards the house. Unsurprisingly, he meets you with another kiss – this one a little longer and a little rougher than last time.
Instead of being interrupted by a car horn honking this time, it’s the sound of Sam’s voice that makes Joaquin pull away from you, his hand still resting on your back.
“I swear if you don’t get into this car right now, Joaquin, I’m replacing you as Falcon!”
Joaquin’s eyes widen almost comically, but even though a part of him really believes that Sam would do it, it doesn’t stop him from leaning in to peck your lips again before he turns back around and starts running towards the limo.
“I love you, angel!” He yells as he’s running.
“Love you too,” you call back through your laughter.
You watch as he gets into the limo and then notice the window rolling down. He waves to you until the house is no longer visible and then finally looks at Sam for the first time since he’d gotten in.
“Next time, we’re negotiating for plus ones.”
~~~
It’s late by the time Joaquin comes home – much later than you’d anticipated. You’d attempted to stay up as long as you could, but when you hear the key in the front door, you’re half asleep in your bed, the room only lit by a lamp on your bedside table.
“Angel, are you sleeping?” Joaquin’s voice wakes you up a little.
Stifling a yawn, you push yourself into a seated position as the door to your bedroom opens and Joaquin walks inside, a smile on his face the second he sees you. His hair is a little messy, likely from a night of dancing or other tomfoolery, and his shirt is creased like you’d expected it to be when he came home.
“Hey, baby. What time is it?” You ask, rubbing your eyes a little. You’re pretty sure you’d fallen asleep for at least a little bit there, but you have no idea when or for how long. “Did you have a good night?”
Joaquin crosses over towards the bed and is about to sit down on it when you stop him.
“No outside clothes on the bed.”
He chuckles and starts to undo his belt. “You just trying to get me naked, angel?”
“If I wasn’t about to pass out, I’d say yes.”
He removes his dress shirt and pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor and leaving him in only his boxers before he climbs up onto the bed beside you, his phone in one of his hands. He slides underneath the covers and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him so he can lean in and press a kiss to your cheek.
“It’s like… one a.m., I think,” Joaquin starts, answering your earlier question. “And I had the best night. You were right, angel. I really enjoyed myself once I was actually there.” He pauses for a second, then his eyes light up as he remembers something. “Oh, they had a whole room full of ice sculptures! Have you seen them before? It was so cold in there, like a giant walk-in freezer. They even had a sculpture of me! Wait, I took a picture…”
You smile, leaning into his side as he unlocks his phone and opens up the camera roll. He swipes past about ten selfies of himself before he gets to the ones he wants to show you – the ice sculptures. You’re definitely gonna be asking for copies of the selfies tomorrow.
“I took photos of everything so I could show you,” he explains, stopping on one ice sculpture that is unmistakably Falcon. “How cool is that! I’m an ice sculpture. I mean, not anymore. I’m probably just a puddle of water now but still.”
It’s sweet, the way he’s so excited about how much he’d enjoyed his evening. Even though it’s one in the morning and you wish you were fast asleep, you’re glad to be experiencing the wonder in his eyes and the joy in his voice. How he can be so energetic so late at night though, you don’t understand.
“That’s super cool, baby,” you hum, no longer looking at the photo but up at him.
Joaquin locks his phone and sits it on his bedside table. “Honestly, I think it might’ve been one of the best nights of my life,” he admits.
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, that’s funny coming from the man who didn’t even want to go in the first place,” you chuckle, amused. You’re a little more awake now, simply from seeing how happy he is. “So, you don’t need those kisses you asked for anymore, then? I can just go back to sleep then.”
He looks down at you. “Okay, so I didn’t say that.”
One of his hands moves to cup your jaw, his thumb gently swiping over your cheek, as he leans in to kiss you again. Despite the fact that he had had a really great night at the gala, it would’ve been made a million times better with you there. And after the kisses you’d shared while he was getting ready, he’s been waiting for this one all night.
The kiss is different to all the ones you’d had before. It’s slow, soft and gentle. It doesn’t last very long, though. Joaquin can tell how tired you are and the last thing he wants is to keep you up any later, especially when he’d been out later than he’d intended on.
“That was nice,” you mutter after he pulls away from the kiss.
“It was,” he agrees, then tilts his head downwards to briefly capture your lips in his again. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, unable to help himself. “But you should get some sleep now, angel. It’s late and you were falling asleep when I came in, I could tell.”
You stifle another yawn and shake your head. “No, I wanna stay up with you longer. I missed you tonight.”
Joaquin’s heart clenches in his chest. You’d been so adamant for him to go, but all this time you’d been at home missing him. You’d even tried staying awake until he’d come home and had barely achieved it.
“I’ll be here when you wake up, angel,” he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I missed you tonight, too. Every second that I was at that gala I wished you were with me.”
You smile sleepily as you shuffle down so you can lay down in the bed. Joaquin moves to lay beside you, putting his head on his own pillow, the hand that had been on your face moving to rest on your hip.
“You looked really handsome tonight, baby,” you murmur.
“Thank you, angel,” Joaquin replies softly.
“Next time,” you yawn, unable to stop yourself this time, and shuffle closer to him, burying your head in his chest. “You should negotiate for a plus one.”
Joaquin can’t help but chuckle as he wraps his arm around you. “One step ahead of you, angel.”
~~~
Joaquín Torres Tag List (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)
Summary: You ask your roommate Joaquin for a favor—but when he finds your little secret friend, he decides to return the favor. Just you, him, and your favorite toy… turning a shitty night around.
Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Female Reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+), masturbation, oral sex (f and m receiving), use of vibrator, light restraint, overstimulation, mirror sex, soft aftercare, established sexual tension, strong language.
Word Count: 3.6K
A/N: I got inspired because I saw a clip from the movie heart eyes of the female character throwing her vibrator in the closet. I haven't scene this movie but I saw a second of that scene and I was already typing this fic. Enjoy!
Read part 2 here
-
“You have a date?” Joaquin leans against the laundry room doorway, sipping a beer, wearing his football jersey and a backwards hat. His favorite team must be playing tonight.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing my bulky comforter into the dryer. “Dean’s in town for a few days.”
“Ah, the Navy pilot.” Joaquin rolls his eyes and steps aside, letting me pass him in the hallway of our shared apartment.
“How do I look? You think this is too much?” I ask, standing in the middle of the hallway. I smooth the hem of the new dress I bought earlier this week—a midnight blue mini that hits mid-thigh, with long sleeves hugging my arms and a square neckline dipping low enough to push my boobs up just a bit. The dress is flirty—the perfect thing to do what I want it to do tonight: get Dean and his marvelous self into my bed after months apart.
I really like Dean. He’s charming, smart, always takes charge when it comes to planning our dates and those spontaneous little trips to another state—usually to one of his family’s vacation homes. It’s been over a year since we started dating, but his Navy schedule was hard to get used to at first.
Joaquin clenches his jaw, scanning me from head to toe. “You look way out of Dean’s league.” He pushes my shoulder playfully and heads toward his bedroom. I follow, my strappy heels clicking against the floor, making me feel taller—sexier.
“Can you be the best roommate ever and make sure my comforter dries, then take it out of the dryer?” Joaquin sits on the edge of his dark blue comforter, and I stand close, looking down at him with my hands on my waist.
I notice him staring, his eyes focused on my cleavage.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on bringing Dean over,” he groans, throwing himself back onto the bed dramatically. “Doesn’t he have a hotel room he can take you to instead?”
“Can you just do it, please? For me?” I pout, sitting beside him. The dress rides up a little as I do. “I’ll make you lunch for work for a whole week if you help me out.”
He looks at me, debating if it’s worth his time. “Fine. But it better be your carne guisada with white rice,” he grumbles, sighing. I pat his thigh and stand up, feet firm on the wooden floor of his bedroom.
“It’s a deal.” I head to the doorway but pause in the frame and look over my shoulder. His eyes dart from my ass to my eyes quickly, thinking I didn’t notice him checking me out. “I’ll text you when I’m like ten minutes out. Wear your noise-cancelling headphones.” I wink at him and walk toward my bedroom to grab my bag.
I hear my phone ping and suspect it’s a text from Dean telling me he’s outside. I spray a little perfume and make sure my hair isn’t a mess from wrestling with the comforter earlier. I leave my bedroom door wide open and head toward the stairs. I shout back to Joaquin, telling him I’m leaving, and open the door expecting Dean waiting for me by the car—but he waves from inside the car instead.
That’s weird. He always waits for me outside his door and helps me into his expensive car. I shrug it off, locking the door behind me and pushing the thought to the back of my head.
The restaurant Dean chooses is nice. It usually is. Dean always picks somewhere new—somewhere a little over my budget—but he always insists on paying, and I don’t argue with a man who likes to treat his date.
“Do you like the wine I picked out?” Dean asks. He picked it for me, like he usually does.
“I do. It’s soft for a red,” I say, though I’m usually more of a white wine girl. He nods, taking a sip of his own drink. My phone lights up on the table and I glance down at the screen—Joaquin. Dean’s eyes catch the notification and I quickly turn it off before he starts with his insecurities about my boy roommate.
“Congrats on making Lieutenant, by the way. How do you feel?” I ask, trying to shift the conversation.
“Not a big deal. I already knew it was happening,” Dean says with a shrug, eyes skimming the menu, uninterested in keeping the conversation.
My brows knit together. Dean’s been acting off since picking me up. Usually, he waits by the passenger door and opens it for me, but this time he just sat in the car. When we got to the restaurant, he didn’t grab my hand to lead me to our table like he usually would. And he hasn’t said anything about my dress—he always has something to say.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it. “Oh.” That’s all I can say. My eyes fall to the menu in my hands, scanning the main courses even though I’ve lost my appetite. Maybe he’s just hungry. He did just arrive from the airport a few hours ago.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Dean says, reaching across the table to gently push my menu down so I’ll look at him.
“About what?” I tilt my head, leaning in.
“You’re amazing and gorgeous—I mean, look at you tonight.” He smiles, taking my hands into his. “This past year has been fun, but I’m ready to settle down somewhere. Start actually building the life I want.”
“Dean...” I blink, stunned. I wasn’t expecting this tonight, not even this year. We’ve talked about marriage, family, and the future before—but this feels so sudden.
“I’m engaged,” he says, still smiling. The words make my stomach drop. “I proposed a few weeks ago in the Hamptons. I’ve been meaning to break things off with you, but I didn’t want to do it over text or a phone call. You don’t deserve that.”
He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand. I yank it away immediately.
“So calling me earlier this week and inviting me to dinner to tell me you got engaged to someone else was your idea of what I deserve?” I raise my voice, and a few heads turn our way.
“Can you lower your voice, please?” he whispers, glancing around.
“Oh, you don’t want the whole restaurant to hear me call you a fucking dick for dumping me after leading me on for a whole year—all while you were with someone else?” I shoot up to my feet, my chair screeching against the expensive marble floors. I grab the wine glass by the stem and toss the deep red liquid onto his pristine, expensive shirt. “Your wine selection sucks, by the way.”
Dean gasps, scrambling to stand. “You’re a crazy bitch! This is Armani!” His eyes bulge like I’m the insane one here.
“It’s worthless now—just like you, asshole,” I snap, spinning on my heels and marching out. The restaurant falls into stunned silence behind me. The hostess by the door hangs with her mouth agape while the room starts to murmur.
Fuming, I stomp down the sidewalk, heels clicking hard against the pavement. I walk a few blocks away before ordering an Uber—I refuse to be anywhere near that restaurant when Dean leaves. I won’t give him the satisfaction of a last word after what he pulled.
I’m not even heartbroken. I’m just fucking pissed. This man has been seeing someone else all this time, lying to me. Telling me about our future plans. Maybe all this time, this was his plan with me.
When the sweet woman Uber driver drops me off at home, I storm up the small stairs on the porch and unlock the front door. I slam it behind me and toss my bag onto the little entry table. I don’t even bother texting Joaquin that I’m home early. I head straight for the kitchen and grab the sealed bottle of white wine Joaquin bought me a few days ago.
Screw the glass—I take a long sip straight from the bottle. Then I head upstairs, passing Joaquin’s closed door, and go straight to mine. I leave the door open and throw myself face-first onto my bed. The comforter is laid out—nicely. Not the way I would’ve done it, but the effort is there.
At least I can count on my roommate for something.
God, this is not how I imagined tonight going. How pathetic.
Still wearing my dress and heels, I lay back and sip the wine again, trying to erase the whole disaster from my mind.
A soft knock at my open door pulls me from my thoughts. I glance up, propping myself on my elbows, and meet Joaquin’s eyes. He looks at me first—his gaze lingers at my chest before flicking to the bottle in my hand.
“You okay? Did something happen?” he asks. He doesn’t step inside, but the concern in his voice is clear.
I let out a laugh—a small one at first, then louder, almost unhinged. “Dean’s fucking engaged,” I finally manage between fits of laughter.
“Engaged?” Joaquin’s face contorts in confusion, mirroring my own earlier.
“He took me on a date to break up with me because he got engaged a few weeks ago,” I explain, taking another sip.
“What a fucking asshole,” Joaquin mutters, shaking his head. “I never liked him anyway—he was always too cocky.”
“You never like the guys I bring home,” I say, smirking despite everything. “But hey, if you see a video floating around of someone tossing a glass of red wine at a guy in a restaurant with marble floors? That’s me.”
“Good for you. I’m proud.” He chuckles, leaning against my door, still watching me.
“I’m just going to take this amazing dress off, take a shower, burn it, and call it a night.” I rest the wine on my nightstand but don’t get up yet. “Thanks for taking this out of the dryer,” I say, smoothing the comforter.
“You know, you should be careful with what you throw in with your comforter,” he says, a small smirk on his lips. I scrunch my nose, confused. Joaquin doesn’t move, but he pulls out my light blue bullet vibrator from behind his back. “I was about to throw the comforter on your bed when this little guy fell before my feet.”
My eyes go wide and I jump toward him to take it, but he grabs my wrist and hides it out of reach. “Joaquin, come on. I’ve already been embarrassed once tonight.” I try to break free from his grip, but my eyes land on his—dark and filled with something I’ve only seen once before.
My insides flip. The heat of his chest against mine makes my nipples harden beneath the lacy material under my dress.
“I don’t want to make fun of you, I promise.” He leans down, close enough for me to feel his rapid breathing. Jesus. I swallow the whimper in my throat as he pushes me against the door. “You don’t have to spend the rest of the night alone with your toy.” His lips brush my jawline, and I arch my back, bumping my hips into his.
“I don’t want to be alone,” I whisper, my voice small. He shoves the bullet into his pocket, pulls my face close with both hands, and crashes his lips onto mine. I moan into his mouth, my hands sneaking up to his waist and under his shirt, running along the muscles of his toned back.
He pulls me off the door and leads me to my bed without breaking the kiss, his tongue meeting mine. His hand lands on the back of my neck, deepening the kiss even further. The back of my knees hit the mattress, and we fall to the bed. He uses one hand to hold himself up while the other glides over my smooth calves and up the side of my thighs.
I lift my hips, my dress riding up as I grind against his now growing bulge. “Joaquin,” I breathe out. His lips pull away from mine, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck. He bites and licks the swell of my breasts, tugging the material of my dress down to expose my breasts.
I’m grateful I matched my lingerie tonight.
Joaquin bites the lacy material and pulls it aside, freeing my nipple to the cold air. He licks the stiff peak with one slow stroke before pulling it into his mouth. He twirls his tongue around it, sucking hard before releasing it with a pop, then blows cool air over it, smirking as I squirm beneath him. He lifts himself up, kneeling on the mattress. He removes his shirt over his head, and I stare at his perfectly tanned, muscled torso.
I look at him and lick my lips, drinking him in—his lips red and swollen, pupils blown wide, and his cock straining against his grey sweatpants.
Fuck, why haven’t we done this before?
Joaquin grabs my waist and flips me, stomach down onto the mattress. I brace myself on my forearms and arch my back, pressing my ass up for him to use me however he wanted. His fingers trace a slow path along the backs of my thighs as he keeps me spread open with one leg. I glance over my shoulder the moment I hear a low buzz. I bite my lip, watching him trail the cool vibrating bullet over the same path as his fingers. I gasp as he presses it to my lace-covered clit, trying to grind against it, but he holds me still with a firm hand on my hip.
“You’re under my care, baby. Let me praise you.”
Joaquin hovers over my trembling body. The hand on my hip moves to the zipper on the back of my dress. His lips brush behind my ear, pressing wet, sloppy kisses as the zipper slides down with torturous slowness.
He keeps the bullet on the lowest setting, circling my soaked clit slowly, teasingly. He removes the vibrator and peels the dress from my body, tossing it aside. The fabric brushes my sensitive nipples, and I whimper, aching for his touch—but his hands are nowhere on me.
“Patience,” he murmurs against my skin, his lips trailing down my spine. He lowers himself to my core, squeezing my ass cheeks as his nose brushes the lacy fabric covering my wet heat. Joaquin presses his nose against me, inhaling deeply. I fist the pillows, barely holding myself together.
“You smell divine,” he growls, hooking a finger into my lingerie and sliding it down. Cool air hits my exposed sex. Before I can catch my breath, his lips crash into my folds. He spreads me wider, eating me from behind. I moan loudly, my eyes squeezing shut, legs trembling as his tongue sucks my clit, then teases my soaked entrance, pushing inside me.
He turns the vibrator back on and presses it to my clit as his tongue works me open.
“I’m not going to last,” I gasp, my voice catching. I glance at the mirror behind us and see him between my legs, grinding his hips into the mattress, his face buried in my sex. The sight alone makes me shudder.
“Joaquin.” I chant his name, my knuckles turning white around the pillows. He doesn’t stop. He increases the vibrator’s speed, sucking me dry. The sounds—the wetness, the panting, the desperate moans—blur my vision. It’s too good. Too much.
“Baby, too much, please,” I gasp, trying to squirm away.
He pulls back and flips me onto my back. The toy still buzzes against the bedding. He kneels between my legs, his knee digging into the mattress to keep me open. My chest heaves, trying to steady my breath. His lips are wet with me, and he smiles proudly.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re a dream.”
I lean forward, desperately grabbing the waistband of his sweats. I need him now—need to feel him stretch me, fill me, cover me. I free him, stroking his length as he looks down, lips parted, sighing at the sensation.
I bring my mouth to his tip, pressing a kiss to it before taking him in. I flatten my tongue to the slit, tasting the salt of his precum. I slide him deeper into my mouth, the tip hitting the back of my throat, my nose brushing his skin.
He fists my hair, holding me in place. I breathe through my nose, one hand bracing on his hip for balance, and suck him slowly. I pull back halfway, wrapping my hand around the rest of his shaft, stroking and licking his cock. He throws his head back, moaning my name.
“You love sucking my cock?” he groans, bucking into my mouth, forcing me to take more. I nod, moaning, cheeks hollowing as I suck harder. “What beautiful noises you make. Look at you—soaking the bed.” He chuckles breathlessly, his knuckles brushing my cheek as his eyes flick to the wet spot behind me. I grind my hips against the sheets, needing friction.
He pulls me away from him, leaving me gasping, teary-eyed. “So pretty.”
This time, I grab his shoulders and shove him onto the bed. I straddle his lap as he watches me. I grab the vibrator from the bed and turn it up a notch. I trail it down his chest slowly, circling a nipple and dragging it to his waist, where my wetness coats his skin.
Now it’s my turn to play.
I do the same to myself—trailing the toy down my chest, teasing each nipple. My walls clench with anticipation. I shiver as I press it to my clit, grinding against him. Joaquin grips my waist, his fingers digging into my skin.
“Fuck,” he swears.
I’m close again, but he grabs my hand and steals the orgasm from me. I cry out in frustration. He switches the toy off and tosses it across the room.
“I’m the one who’s allowed to make you come now. Enough playing.” His voice is rough, commanding.
He lifts my hips, and I line him up. I try to slam down, but he stops me. He keeps full control.
“Please,” I whimper, my hands over his, trying to wrestle control back. He chuckles wickedly—it’s no use. He lets me sink down slowly, the pace killing me. I open my mouth to complain, but he suddenly thrusts upward, leaving me gasping.
I brace my hands on his chest.
“All this for me,” he moans, brows furrowed with restraint. “Jesus, baby.”
He lifts me again and slams me back down. I let him use me, meeting his thrusts mid-air. “I’m not going to last,” I mumble, high on sensation. My eyelids flutter, my legs trembling, the coil inside me about to snap.
Joaquin flips us over and I squeal as my back hits the pillows. He slams into me harder, lifting one leg over his shoulder to spread me wider. I throw my head back, the new angle brushing against a deep, dizzying spot inside me.
His hips snap against mine, the pace relentless. My skin radiates heat and sweat sticks on my skin. I grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss, I need to feel him everywhere.
He braces one hand on the headboard as it creaks against the wall. I slip my tongue between his lips—I taste myself on him, and I moan. His hand slips between us and circles my clit while he pounds into me.
And I fall apart without warning, gasping his name and my body convulsing. His forehead presses to mine, our breaths uneasy. I clamp around him as he thrusts sloppily, then groans into my neck as he comes deep inside me.
We lie there panting, his face buried in my neck while I stroke his hair. I feel our mess leaking out as he pulls out and I wince when he gently lowers my leg from his shoulder.
“God,” I pant, my legs trembling. Joaquin slips out of the room and returns with a warm towel. I didn’t even notice he’d pulled his sweatpants back on. He sits at the edge of the bed, spreading my legs and carefully cleaning the mess between them.
I whimper, overstimulated even by his gentle touch. When he’s done, I sit up and rest my chin on his shoulder, his hand on my knee.
“You okay?” I ask. For once, I can’t read his face, and it makes me nervous. Did we just mess everything up?
“Yeah. Are you?” He brushes his thumb across my knee, a touch so soft it makes my heart skip.
“Fuck, why haven’t we done this before?” I blurt and he laughs. “You’ve been hiding this from me,” I tease, dragging my nails down his back.
“I’m sorry for what happened with Dean tonight.” He leans in, pressing a kiss on my cheek.
“It’s okay. I’m out of his league anyway.” I laugh softly.
I stand up from the bed, and my jello legs almost betray me, but Joaquin keeps me balanced on my feet with a steady hand on my waist.
“We should order in. I’m starving.” I pick up his jersey from the floor and throw it over my body, too lazy to grab something from my closet.
Joaquin licks his lips, looking at me. He stands up from my bed, and his chest meets my back. A hand roams from my chest up to my neck. He leans my face back and catches my lips for a slow tongue kiss.
My hand lands on top of his, the one holding my neck, and if he didn’t have me pressed against his chest, my legs would’ve given out. He pulls away and looks down at me, and I smile already tipsy from him alone.
“Yeah, let’s fuel you up, because I’m not done with you,” he says, smacking my ass and leading me downstairs to the kitchen.
You weren’t expecting anything dramatic to happen today.
That morning, you’d shown up to The Daily Bugle in your favorite pinstripe trousers, combat boots polished and clunking confidently down the halls, matching little vest over a shirt sleeve button up, with a cardigan draped lazily over your shoulders. You were fresh-faced, your lip gloss intact, and for once, your coffee hadn’t betrayed you with a bitter burn or sudden splash across your blouse. It was, all things considered, a normal day.
Which made what Lois Lane said all the more jarring.
It started in the break room. You’d both ducked in for your mid-afternoon pick-me-up—you with an hazelnut latte and a chocolate éclair almost the size of your hand, and Lois with her usual two creams, no sugar, and a tired sigh that had nothing to do with caffeine. The room buzzed faintly with the broken vending machine’s hum and the distant clatter of typing fingers from the bullpen. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a sleepy, honey-glazed glow across the linoleum floor that’d flickered briefly, and for a moment, it was peaceful.
“You doing anything tonight?” You asked between bites of your pastry, lips sticky with chocolate as you tapped your nails on the table. “Want to come over and watch Love Island while we finish some work? I’m finally caught up, and I need someone to scream with.”
It was an innocent and simple question. Something she didn’t even mull over before the words spilled rom her lips. But she felt like she should’ve when Lois didn’t answer. Not right away.
You didn’t notice at first, too absorbed in the perfection of your eclair. But a few seconds of silence dragged on too long, and when you looked up, she was still stirring her coffee in an almost trance like state, the tiny creamer pot abandoned and untouched beside her. “What’s wrong?” You asked, brows pinching. You tilted your head slightly, sensing something you couldn’t name yet.
“It’s nothing.” She replied quickly. A little too quickly. Her voice was airy, obviously covering up a lie as if trying to brush something under a very obvious rug. She reached for the forgotten creamer, adding it to her mug with forced precision. “Seriously. Just tired.” She muttered.
“Lo.” You nudged her calf with your boot under the table. “Don’t lie to me. Spill.” You demanded.
She visibly hesitated, shoulders twitching like she was reeling something in—words, maybe. Or courage.
Then finally, she gulped. “It’s just that—your place is kind of… intimate.”
You pulled back in your seat, confusion and shock written all over your face. You couldn’t even utter anything, didn’t even have the time to think of what to say, before the raven haired woman continued. “I mean, not that it makes me uncomfortable!” She rushed to add, hands lifting defensively. “I just… I don’t know. I feel like I’m intruding when I’m there.” She shrugged nervously.
Your mouth parted slightly, eclair long forgotten, the corners of your mind starting to spiral. What had made her uncomfortable? The couch? The music that blasted from Johnny’s room? Did your air freshener make her nauseous or something?
“What do you mean?” You asked cautiously, already halfway convinced you’d accidentally violated some obscure guest code you had no idea about. Besides the fact that you lived with four adult men.
Lois was quiet, lips pursed tight, eyes darting toward the half-peeled sticker on her coffee mug like it had all the answers. She looked like someone deciding whether to cut the red wire or the blue one as she tried to decide on a way to deliver the news without making the tense atmosphere in the break room even more weird.
“You and your roommates.” She said finally, looking up to make eye contact with you, watching as you blinked, brows twitching in confusion.
“Huh?”
“You and your roommates.” Lois repeated, this time looking you square in the eye. “You guys are so..comfortable with one another. So…close. Like, close close. So much so that I feel like I’m intruding when I’m around you guys.”
You blinked, brows inching upward. “What?” You were so shocked, that those seemed to be the only words you were able to deliver. Your mouth gaped open upon her claims as you sat up in your seat in shock, trying to find anything to convey your plethora of emotions. “Lois, what the hell are you talking about?” You asked, letting out s chortle in disbelief.
Lois rolled her eyes and leaned. “Oh, come on. You cannot tell me you don’t see how close you guys are.” She said, delivering it in a way like she was telling you you’d been living under a rock your entire life.
“Lo, I’ve known those guys since freshman year of university. And they’ve known each other practically their whole lives. Of course we’re close, we’re bound to be. That’s not weird.”
“Not close how you guys are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s not a normal close.” She insisted. “It’s weirdly close.”
You laughed, half-out of disbelief, half-out of nerves. “Weird how?” You asked, crossing your arms.
“You really want me to tell you how?” Lois questioned, giving you a deadpan look.
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll tell you how.” She said, crossing her arms like she’d been waiting for you to ask. “Remember when Jimmy and I came over for drinks a few months ago?”
“Vaguely.” You winced.
“And Johnny—who owns that ridiculous bar cart, by the way—was mixing cocktails and feeding you fruit from the garnish tray?” She explained, and you opened your mouth to argue, but stopped.
Because suddenly, the memory unspooled in vivid detail.
⸻
It was months ago, nearly a year on one of those cozy spring nights—rain tapping against the flats floor-to-ceiling windows, but none of you cared. The warm glow of the kitchen lights reflected on the sleek counters, and Johnny was in his element behind the bar, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, whilst Jimmy talked animatedly about the time he’d bartended a runway party in Paris.
Johnny walked over, placing martini glasses in front of you. “Your drinks.” He grinned.
“Ooo.” Lois grinned, pulling the steel skewer lined with raspberry’s from the drink, taking one into her mouth as Jimmy sipped his with a content nod. You were perched beside the bar when Johnny leaned in, plucked a skewer of raspberries from your martini glass, and gently held one out.
Without a second thought, you inched forward and took the berry off the pin with your mouth. He didn’t say a word as his finger bushed your chin—just smirked faintly, watching you chew, as his eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes like he was trying to memorize the taste of the fruit on your tongue. You’d looked away, lips tilted in amusement at something Jimmy said, tossing a playful jab his way, and the moment passed as quickly as it came.
⸻
You blinked, eyes snapping back to Lois. “Johnny’s just… affectionate like that. He grew up with a loving sister, that’s just how he shows love his love.” You explained, causing Lois to deadpan you. “Uh-huh.” She said, unconvinced. “Okay. What about the time I came to pick you up for our shopping trip and you walked out of Peter’s room?”
“I was looking for my charger.”
“And then Peter walked out right after you. In nothing but a towel.”
“He had just showered but he decided to help me!” You protested. “And he didn’t know you were there! To be fair, I didn’t know you were there! Bob let you in without telling me. I’m so sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable.”
Lois held up her hands. “I’m not judging.” She affirmed. “I’m really not. It’s just—every time I’m at your place, I feel like I’m interrupting something. You and Bob have these little glances like you’re reading each other’s minds. Joaquin always makes you your tea before you ask for it. Peter fluffs your pillows before you sit if you didn’t know. And Johnny looks at you like he’s two seconds from eating you.”
You sat up, jaw slack, blinking rapidly like the room had tilted without warning.
“I…” You tried. “That’s not…”
She raised a brow.
You exhaled, flustered, feeling heat creep up your neck. “They’re just… like that.”
“With you.”
The words hung heavy in the stale break room air. You didn’t say anything for a moment. Neither did Lois. She just sipped her coffee, letting you sit in the swirling fog of revelation.
You’d always known you and the boys were close. You were roommates, best friends. You shared a space, a history, a learned rhythm. You never really questioned the little touches, the glances, the late-night check-ins and shared beds during thunderstorms or times where you just simply felt like it. You didn’t think about how Peter let you almost climb onto him whenever you were scared, or how Joaquin made your tea just the way you liked it without being asked, or how Johnny always made sure your towel was warm before handing it to you after forgetting it again, and how Bob could sense your mood before you spoke and wordlessly slide you into his favorite hoodie for comfort.
It wasn’t strange. It was just how your home operated.
But now…
Now, every memory felt heavier with intimacy, maybe even romance.
Your heart thudded quietly.
“You’re overthinking it.” You said finally, but your voice wavered.
Lois smiled softly, knowingly. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re underthinking it.” She said, watching by as you looked back down at your untouched food.
The chocolate on your eclair was no longer glossy and molten but dull and firm with the chill of the break room air. Your once-steaming coffee sat forgotten at your side, now nothing more than a sad, bitter puddle. This was not how you’d envisioned your fifteen-minute coffee break—especially not one that ended with your brain spinning and your appetite destroyed.
You barely noticed when the door creaked open again and Jimmy Olsen poked his head in, brows raised. “You two know you’re, like, fifteen minutes over, right? The meeting’s starting.”
Both you and Lois jolted at that, heads whipping from the wall clock and then down to your watches for a double check. Time had sprinted past quicker than expected.
“Shit.” You muttered, gathering your papers and your thoughts as quickly as possible—which, frankly, wasn’t very fast. You’d have a clearer mind walking into that meeting if you’d actually eaten. Instead, you were heading to a full-staff boardroom with an empty stomach and a full head of increasingly confusing thoughts.
Which, as you already knew from experience, was a recipe for pure disaster.
The elevator ride up to the fifteenth floor was spent in silence—Jimmy humming to himself, Lois quiet and side-glancing at you like she was afraid you might bolt or explode, and you were trapped in your own brain. Again. The moment the doors slid open, the newsroom’s upper offices buzzed with movement, phones ringing and heels clicking. You walked mechanically toward the boardroom, located dead center on the floor and enclosed in sleek, frosted glass.
You stepped in one after the other. The room was already mostly full—senior editors, a few columnists, layout heads, and the fresh interns pretending not to panic. You settled into your usual seat next to Lois, setting your briefcase down and opening your folder like a well oiled machine. Your hands moved, but your brain wasn’t really there.
It was still in the break room, stunned in the dingy chair at the leaning table in the corner. Still circling the phrase: You guys are…close.
You were staring at your notes, though not really reading them, fingers absently thumbing the edge of a sticky tab. It wasn’t until Lois gently laid a hand on your shoulder that you startled, blinking yourself out of autopilot.
“What?” You asked out of reflex, your voice monotone. “Oh. I’m fine. Just… hungry.” You added with an strained smile.
Lois didn’t press. But her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before she leaned back in her chair—right as the glass doors flew open and the tornado known as J. Jonah Jameson barreled in.
“Let’s go, let’s go! We don’t have all damn day!” He barked, tossing a thick manila folder onto the table with enough force to make one of the interns jump.
You sat up a little straighter, forced your lips into something like a line, and braced yourself for what was always a high-volume half-hour.
“First thing’s first.” Jameson began, pacing the room like a general. “Spider-Man’s not the only masked menace swinging around this city anymore.”
He hit a button on the sleek tablet beside him, and the conference screen on the wall lit up with blurry footage—midair photos of what looked like a man engulfed in flames hurtling across the Manhattan skyline. The next frame was clearer: a tall figure in a high-tech suit with wings spread wide, grounded only long enough to punch out a crew of armed thieves behind an abandoned dock.
You swallowed hard.
Because you knew those silhouettes. You knew the way the fire curled like a wave, leaving behind a trail of smoke, was when Johnny got cocky in the air. You knew the arc of Joaquin’s wings like the shape of your own palm. You had washed soot out of both of their suits more times than you could count.
“This guy,” Jameson growled, zooming in on the fire-blurred figure, “Has been torching half the rooftops on the West Side. And this one—” He pointed to Joaquin’s mid-air frame, “Thinks he’s the new Iron Man or something doing street work in place of cops. I want names. I want stories. I want dirt. We’re gonna get out ahead of this vigilante nonsense.”
The words kept coming, but you didn’t hear them.
Because the thoughts Lois planted in your head were now loud and complicated and banging around your chest like live wires.
You’d spent so much time pretending—pretending you didn’t know who Spider-Man was, pretending you didn’t recognize the “new faces,” pretending your home wasn’t full of makes identities and high tech laundry covered in whatever unexplained scenario those boys had gotten themselves into. And you were good at pretending. You’d convinced everyone else.
Except maybe yourself.
Because suddenly, pretending felt exhausting.
Now more than ever, you had the urge to scream who they were from the rooftops. Maybe it was because of the constant thoughts Lois put into your head while those exact men fought crime on the large screen in front of you. Or maybe, it was the fact that your stomach was beginning to tighten from hunger, while those same exact thoughts of intimate closeness with said roommates flooded your mind. Either way, your attention was only focused on the men you shared an apartment with.
And Lois’s words? They just kept echoing within your mind.
You guys are…close.
You didn’t even notice when the meeting ended. Which was ironic, given how Jameson’s meetings usually felt like a marathon through hell with his booming voice. But somehow, twenty-five minutes passed in a blur, and now your coworkers were packing up and moving on. So you copied their actions, gathering your things in a hurry to exit the now stuffy establishment.
You only blinked back to reality only when Jameson pointed at you from across the room.
“My brightest.” He said, wagging a thick finger. “I expect something good from you.” He praised, and you could only give a tight, awkward smile. “Yes, sir.” You said with a stiff nod. He smiled before he was gone, trailing a stream of assistants and interns behind him like flys to a block of honey.
You were about to follow when Lois gently shut the glass door before you could slip out, now leaving only the two of you in the room.
“Okay, what’s up?” She asked, her tone gentler now, arms folded and brow knit with concern.
“What do you mean?” You replied, feigning confusion, but your voice cracked slightly.
Lois gave you a look. The kind that only best friends or sisters or very, very observant people could manage.“You’re like an open book. I can tell when something’s up.”
You hesitated. You two stared at each other for a few seconds before you cracked, letting out a long, frayed sigh, and dropping your things onto the table.
“Come on.” Lois urged as she stepped closer.
“Well, for starters, I’m gradually becoming hangry.” You began dryly, bringing your hand up to rub your forehead out of anxious stress. “But also…” You hesitated, then added in a rush. “I can’t stop thinking about everything you said.”
Lois winced at your quick onslaught of words. “If I’d known it would stress you out like this—”
“No! No, I’m glad you said it.” You interrupted. “But now I feel stupid.” You were quick to explain as you began to pace around the room, doing anything to avoid her blue irises that seemed to stare deep into you. “Like… what does all of this mean? Is it me? Is it them? Is it just Johnny and Peter? I can’t even begin to wonder what’s going on.”Your pacing had resumed, heavy boots tapping a steady rhythm across the polished floor. You stopped suddenly, eyes locking with hers. “What else have you seen?”
Lois’s eyes went wide as she began shaking her head. “Oh, no. No, no-“
“No, tell me.” You urged, stepping closer, borderline desperate.
“You’re spiraling.”
“I know! That’s why I need more detail. Please.” You pleaded. But then froze before stepping back, trying to appear less manic, arms crossed like that would hold everything inside. “I have to know, is there anything else you’ve seen.” You asked, trying to appear calm.
Lois groaned softly but relented. “Okay, fine. That one time Bob kept bringing us tea while we were doing research at your place?”
You nodded. “Yeah?”
“And then he sat down just to be near you. And fell asleep next to you. On the floor. With his hand in your lap.”
You blinked.
And there it was again—another memory surfacing like a warm breath caressing cold skin.
You remembered now. Sitting on the floor surrounded by city maps and vigilante sightings. Bob curled on a pillow beside you, head resting comfortably close. His hand—warm, gentle against your thigh, resting against your thigh like it belonged.
Lois saw the recognition dawn in your eyes.
“And Joaquin?” She continued with a short laugh. “Don’t even get me started.” She said, throwing her hands up in disbelief. And you closed your eyes, knowing where this one was going.
“I know, I know. You all thought—“
“I swear the whole office thought you two were dating.” Lois finished, looking at you with a hint of amusement in her eyes.
You groaned. “Don’t start.”
“Start?” Lois echoed. “He used to bring you lunch every day when you first started working here. With a fat kiss on the cheek.”
“It wasn’t a fat kiss.” You mumbled.
“It was a fat kiss.” She said firmly. “And don’t forget—you made him stop. You would get jealous when the others would ogle at him. That’s why you told him to stop.”
Now that caused you to gape at her. “I didn’t tell him to stop because I was jealous.” You protested, though your voice faltered.
“Then why did you tell him to stop?”
You paused. “Because… it was distracting! First, the office turned into a viewing party every time he showed up and surrounded around the door when I’m just trying to get my food. And you know how I get when I’m hungry.”
“Yes I do.” Lois said with a smirk as she watched you ramble.
“And second, you know Joaquin. He gets a big head, and quickly. Strangers calling him pretty boy didn’t help the atmosphere of my home.” You finished.
Then you and Lois stood there for a minute. You both stood there in the silence that followed. And it happened slowly—so slowly you almost didn’t feel it. But the realization began to settle. A shift in the way the air moved around you. Like a truth finally finding its way into the light. The raven haired woman watched as everything settled, the look of realization washing over your face. And you almost look petrified.
Lois stepped closer, softer now. “Hey. I’m not judging you by any means. If anything…” She shrugged. “I say go for it. I don’t even know with who. Hell, don’t choose. Have fun. Those men are fine, and they adore you, plus’s you all live together. But—”
Your eyes widened as you took a shaky step back. “I have to go!” You mean to whisper, but it came out in a stunned tone that was louder than you meant it to be.
Then you were gone—grabbing your bag and rushing out the door before Lois could even blink. She flinched at your sudden movements, and before she knew it, you were out of the room.
By the time she snapped out of her stunned trance and stepped out into the hallway, the elevator doors at the end of the hall were closing behind you. The office was still, save for the click of heels echoing down the corridor, people muttering in your wake of sudden nerves.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅
The cab ride home from Midtown felt like the closing scene of a war film. A lone soldier, battle-weary and bruised—not on the outside, but inside, where things ached far worse—staring blankly out the window while the city pulsed on around her, mind plagued with unwanted thoughts. The car jolted gently in the five o’clock crawl of Manhattan traffic. But truthfully, the traffic was eternal. New York didn’t know peace, and in that moment, neither did she.
The back seat was cracked leather, its age and wear pressing into her skin through the fabric of her tight slacks. The air smelled like a stale combination of old peppermint, car freshener, and coffee breath, and the balding cab driver seemed mercifully uninterested in conversation. He’d caught her dull expression and stiff demeanor in the mirror once—maybe twice—and after that, left her to her own stillness. No words were exchanged after the small uttered greeting when she first entered and told him her destination.
Now no one spoke.
But your mind was loud.
Louder than the sirens down the street, louder than the honking cab two lanes over, louder than the thoughts you tried so hard to suffocate. You sat there, barely blinking as your mind traversed through every single interaction you’ve had with your roommates. The men you’ve known since collage. You would blink hard to get rid of those thoughts, but Lois words always drifted back, picking at the back of your cerebellum no matter where you tried to force your mind to go.
You had tried to think about normal things. Like: What should I eat first when I get home?
But that one spiraled fast. The thought of dinner had turned to Joaquin, warm and radiant, still in his cute duck-printed apron, dishing out your plate first with a flourish like they were dining in some upscale bistro. His head was close to yours, leaning over your chair as he described the meal with a chef’s affection. He always remembered everything—every allergy, every preference. And he poured your wine like he knew how much of a day you’d had before even opening your mouth.
Stop it, you thought, blinking hard, as if that could knock the image loose from your brain.
Okay, next thought: What am I gonna watch tonight before bed?
Cue the memory of Johnny and Bob flanking your sides in the living room, all three of you buried in the kind of comfort that made you forget the world outside even existed. It was Christmas time last year, all of you decked in matching facemasks, s’mores still sticky on your fingertips. Johnny was roasting marshmallows mid-air with a flick of his hand while Bob curled into your side. You had been wearing Johnny’s oversized black t-shirt and Grinch flannel pajama pants—the ones that technically belonged to him but somehow lived in your drawer now. And he was wearing something similar, the top of the Grinch set with grey joggers. You all watched Sweeney Todd. Not a Christmas movie. But a tradition, nonetheless.
You adjusted yourself in the seat, visibly flinching at the sickeningly sweet thought as the old leather creased loudly under you. The cabbie didn’t even blink. He’d probably seen worse than a silent mental breakdown in his backseat.
Okay. Okay. Shower. I’ll just take an everything shower to clear my mind.
That thought seemed to ground you. Showers were neutral and calming for you. And thinking of the calming shower turned into you wanting it to be a bath, and that seemed tamed. You loved a nice bath. You thought of the hot water, filled with your jasmine scented bubble soap and maybe even some essential oils and a moisturizing bath bomb. You simply loved a good bath.
And that’s what did it. Suddenly it became a shared bath. Because you knew someone who loved a good bath as well. Someone you caught once, having a soothing bubble bath in your bathroom rather than the main one. And you swore to never tell.
But suddenly, you were imagining Peter sitting opposite her in the tub—candles flickering, making the lightening dim. The smell of honeysuckle filing the air as petals floated in the steaming water. A little bath tray set between them with a bottle of wine in an ice bucket that they would simply pass between one another to drink from, that and a dish of chocolate-covered blueberries—your shared favorite. Your feet in his lap, his thumb rubbing idle circles into your arch while he watched Breaking Bad on an iPad and you read a book, glasses slipping down her nose.
She nearly yelped, jumping out of your skin at the thought.
That wasn’t even a memory. You and Peter have never done such a thing. That was a fantasy—a full-on fantasy of her roommate. A bathtub…dream?
Lois words were digging so far within your mind that you were now imagining scenarios. Fantasizing.
You stared harder out the window, willing the city to disappear. And just as panic began to collect in the back of your throat, the cab pulled up the apartment building, bathed in soft orange light from the sinking sun.
You didn’t even wait for the driver to fully stop the car before you shoved a few folded bill into the front seat, mumbling a quick “Thanks.” And launching yourself out into the sidewalk breeze.
Your mind was still in chaos of heat and tension, so tangled with thoughts of them that you barely even registered climbing the steps to the shared Manhattan loft. Everything was dull as you passed the doorman, the desk clerk and made it to the elevator, on autopilot as you pressed the top floor of the building and waisted. You were in such a rush, and so in your head, that you didn’t even hesitate to enter your home. You entered quickly once off the elevator, letting the door shut behind you with a click that echoed in your spine.
Once the door closed behind you, your back was pressed against it, letting out a sigh as you closed your eyes. And that was your first mistake.
“Ah, Y/N.” Came Bob’s gentle voice from the stairs. “You’re here.” As soon as you entered the flat, you were immediately ambushed. Bob, who was coming down the stairs near the door, beamed softly at the sight of you.
He smiled the way only Bob Reynolds could smile—like he was genuinely happy to see you back home.
He didn’t even pay any mind to your still frame as he walked over, lifting you from where you slumped against the door and pulling you into a tight, warm hug. He hummed, his hands rubbing against your back as you returned the hug, simultaneously coming out of your boots. You melted into him without protest.
He smelled like laundry detergent and cedarwood, his hands wide as they rubbed comfort into your back. Your boots slipped off one by one. The wooden floor was cold against your sock clad feet, sending chills up your skin that was offset by Bob’s hug that was grounding and warm. You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his arms that brought you comfort.
“You’re late.” He said, pulling back with a deadpan look—before a lazy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But you’re also just in time. Joaquin and Johnny are almost done with dinner.”
Before you could respond, Bob was already taking your coat and scarf with practiced ease, lifting your briefcase out of your hand and setting it all—gently, but definitely not carefully—by the front door, not even bothering to hang any of it up.
“C’mon.” He said. “You look tired. Let’s get you to the couch before the good spots are gone.”
You barely managed a nod, your mind still too full. You passed the kitchen on the way, his large hand on the small of your back, and sure enough—
“Ah, ¡Bebé!” Joaquin grinned, spinning from the stove with the kind of joy that could cure headaches. His cute duck apron had flour on it and his hands were busy. But he always made time for you. “You’re home!” He gushed as he bounded over, placing a kiss on each cheek, hands cradling your jaw. “Your later than usual, you better not have eaten out. I’ll be offended.” He said, playing stern as he placed his hands on his hips. You simply shook your head, not able to even register any words from the constant overflow you’ve been feeling since break time at work.
You then blinked at him, wheels still cupped in his hands.
“No?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “Good. I made your favorite.” He said. His fingers lingered a beat longer than he needed to, soft beneath your chin. “I’ll go get the wine you like.” He said, then he winked and turned his back to you before heading to the cellar in the pantry.
Bob chuckled, steering you again with a hand at the small of your back. You barely had the energy to wonder if he always touched you like that.
The couch accepted your weight like a long lost friend. Your favorite corner, already waiting for you, pulled you in like gravity. Bob sat at the other end, picked up your legs, and draped them over his lap as if that had always been your place. He then grabbed the remote and bickered through options to see what you guys could watch as you waited for dinner.
“Let’s watch…Friday the 13th, Jason Lives.” He decided. “We’re watching Jason Lives.” He grinned, a slight nod in his head as he clicked the movie. You gave him a look—tired, but amused but nonetheless didn’t question it, used to Bob.
The movie had barely started when Peter padded out from his room, eyes sleepy and hair tousled. You couldn’t tell if he’d been napping or brooding over his lab desk with a new machine of his in the dark, but either way, he looked like a dream. He rounded the back of the couch, scanning the scene—Bob eyes focused on the television as he rubbed your feet, you looking up at him, connecting eyes as you took down your updo— he eased and grabbed your hand, gently taking the claw clip from your fingers.
He gave your hand a squeeze. A soft, quiet hello. Something you were used to exchanging with him when neither of you were in the mood to speak.
Then he played with your fingers. Idly. Almost lovingly. Twisting your rings, tracing the lines of your knuckles, smiling faintly at a little freckle you always forgot you had. This was silent conversation between you two, something you were used to.
“Dinner’s ready!” Johnny called from the kitchen. “Don’t make me come carry you, Sleeping Beauty!” He instantly jabbed at you, seeing your splayed figure on the couch as Peter and Bob fondled at different appendages of your body.
You didn’t move right away.
Because right then, as your eyes flicked from Johnny’s teasing voice, to Joaquin’s warm smile, to Bob’s steady touch, to Peter’s hand in yours—
You realized something. Something Lois had been trying to tell you.
This was……intimate.
And suddenly, you weren’t sure if you were drowning or floating.
But all you did know was that you didn’t need saving.
Summary | When a blizzard hits and the group gets separated, you and Manny are stuck waiting out the storm together.
Warnings, Tropes | 18+, fem firefly!reader, possibly ooc manny (idk dude has like 5 mins of screen time), smut, forced proximity, acquaintances-to-lovers, requited-unrequited, oral (f receiving), dry humping, some dirty talk, unprotected p in v
Author's Note | Danny Ramirez is haunting me so now I have to write fanfics for all his characters 🤷♀️
WC | 12.6k
Harsh, howling winds rattled the windows of the resort, glacial air seeping in through cracked glass and walls eaten away by time. You could hear the building creaking with the severity of the storm, shingles flapping on the roof over your head, wayward doors swaying opened and closed somewhere on the floors below. As you sat bundled up in moth-eaten blankets, a stained and ripped paperback folded in your hands, Manny stood at the window facing the road, his shoulders rigid and foot tapping with impatience.
You had known a storm was coming as the team trekked through the Payette Forest - the temperatures were frigid, even by mountain standards, winds blowing crisp through the pines and woodland. For days, you encouraged Abby and the rest of the group to make camp in any of the nearby towns, as this had been a harsh winter already, but she kept putting it off, determined to make it to Jackson as quickly as possible.
It wasn’t until snow began to first fall delicately that you raised the matter again - after all, you were the pseudo-meteorologist of the group, for lack of a better title, so you knew how to predict the calm before the storm. And finally, they relented, hiking out of the forest and into the nearby cookie-cutter town of McCall.
The resort made the most sense for you to set up a base. Along the north side was a lake that had filled more and more through the years, flooding parts of the lower floor in a couple inches of icy water; the building was set back from the main roadway, allowing some isolation, and you could see for miles from the suite on the top floor, making it the ideal high ground.
Once the building was checked and secured, you all set out for a supply run, hoping to make it back before the storm hit. Knowing that time was limited, you decided to split up to cover more ground - you and Manny went south, Abby and Nora west, Owen and Mel south.
You’d gotten used to being paired off with Manny, as that had always been the case over the course of the past five years. For lack of a better word, you two were more akin to acquaintances than friends despite all your time together, the both of you not terribly interested in getting too close to anyone on the Firefly crew.
That shared attitude of detachment made you and Manny a good team - you could read one another and predict the next move, you could communicate easily through glances or gestures. Ironically, that also meant that you knew more about each other than anyone else, which wasn’t saying much in the grand scheme of things, but it bonded you nonetheless. Sure, he could annoy the hell out of you half the time, but if you had to pick someone to trust, at the end of the day it could only be Manny.
So, your partnership made the McCall supply run easy - the two of you rummaged through abandoned homes and a local game store, trying to find any possible provisions that you may need for the last leg on your trip to Jackson. Despite not finding much, you held out hope that perhaps the rest of the group may find things of more use.
But, as you’d come to learn, nothing was ever as easy as you expected. Considering your limited resources, your weather predictions weren’t an exact science - one moment, the snow was slow and beautiful, and then the next you couldn’t see more than five feet in front of you. You and Manny managed to make it back to the lodge, but now - some six or seven hours later - the rest of your group had yet to show up, and he was getting antsy, worrying over the lowering sun and the promise of nightfall.
“We should go looking for them.” Manny finally spoke for the first time in well over an hour. You took a deep breath through your nose, mouth tightening with agitation, though he couldn’t see the look with his back turned.
“We’re waiting.” You answered plainly without looking up from your book.
Manny turned to stare you down; you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was glowering at your seemingly nonchalant answer, “Something bad could’ve happened, and you sound bored?”
Here we go. Sometimes, you absolutely hated being left alone with him for more than an hour because it always ended up in some bullshit squabble over your attitude or Manny’s temper or something else completely irrelevant. Effective teamwork be damned, the two of you were nonetheless very different types of people.
Sighing, you dog-eared your page and dropped the book into your lap, matching Manny’s sour look with one of your own, “I’m not bored, asshole. I’m just following the rules that we made as a group. Or did you forget those already?”
The golden rules amidst the last remaining faction of Fireflies was simple: have a base to return to, wait there for each other when separated, and don’t go searching for anyone until twelve hours have passed. It stemmed from some kind of scout or camp guidebook, with a few tweaks, and it suited you all thus far. Everyone was more than capable of fending for themselves if need be, so it was better to avoid putting the whole group in danger whenever possible.
Manny’s eyes darkened a little as you stared at one another, neither wanting to be the first to look away, “By that time there’ll be no light left.”
“They know how to take care of themselves.” You countered, crossing your arms to retain a bit of warmth, “Abby said--”
“Doesn’t matter what Abby said.” He cut you off quickly, “None of us considered a goddamn blizzard when we set those rules up. Anything could happen to them out there - you just don’t care.”
An unamused laugh escaped you, rolling your eyes as sarcasm laced each of your words, “Wow, Manny, you’re so right, I never would’ve figured it out; I don’t care at all, that’s why I’m here and have been here all these years.”
“Stop with the attitude.” His jaw clenched as he took a step toward you, though he seemed hesitant to move too far from the window; he’d been practically glued to it since you got back, waiting for any sign of the rest of your team, “If you cared we’d be out there looking for them right now.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to continue mocking him the way you desperately wanted to right now. Eyes blazing, you stood, dropping your blankets and paperback carelessly while marching across the room towards Manny. You jabbed him firmly in the chest, but refrained from matching his temper; you were never one for arguments and confrontation, and nothing was ever resolved from your spats with Manny in the past.
“You really think I’m not worried out of my mind right now?” You asked through your teeth, “I’ve been stressed this entire trip just waiting for something bad to happen. Sure, I don’t feel good about sitting here reading a goddamn harlequin novel to pass the time, but it’s safer that we stay put, got it?”
Manny shook his head judgmentally, stepping back from you with a faint scoff, “You’re unbelievable. Why you’re still here is beyond me.”
Your brows shot up in stunned vexation at his hostility, “I’m still here because I give a shit, contrary to what you think.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Fucking asshole.” You hissed under your breath while turning away from him, “We’re on the same side, so why do you keep fighting with me?”
“Because you’re willing to let them die out there!”
“That’s not what I’m doing!”
“Isn’t it!?” Manny grabbed your elbow, spinning you around to face him again, “I know we have rules, and I know why. But the storm isn’t letting up, and they could be in serious trouble out there. And we’re doing nothing.”
“And what about us?” You hadn’t intended to raise your voice, yet your words came out in a strained yell nonetheless, “What happens if we go out there looking for them? Stop trying to be a hero and think about all the variables involved. What if we get lost out there, or we get attacked, or our own friends accidentally shoot us because they can’t see through all this fucking snow? Have you thought about any of that?”
You shook off Manny’s hand, continuing before he got the chance to intervene, “If we go out there, we could be putting ourselves at greater risk than any of them are in. We’re smart, that’s why this group works. Owen will do literally anything to keep Mel safe, Nora and Abby are the best survivalists I’ve ever seen. And we should stay put because we’re supposed to have enough confidence in their ability to stay alive.”
Manny looked between your eyes with a harsh glare, working his jaw as your words sank in. After a long beat, a scornful grin spread across his lips as he leaned towards you, voice low, “I guess you do care.”
You scowled up at Manny through your lashes, turning away again to go scoop up your book and blankets, intentionally keeping your back to him, “You’re not going out there, got it? We need to stick together. So, why don’t you cool off a little.”
Heading for the door, you had to resist the urge to turn and look at him; considering you were trying to make a point, you had to be more stubborn than usual.
“Where are you going?” You paused, hand resting on the doorknob.
“Anywhere to get away from you.” You answered harshly before throwing open the door and walking out into the hall.
It was pushing nine hours since the blizzard started. And no one was back yet.
You holed yourself up in what was once a game room, arcade cabinets with cracked screens and broken buttons lining one wall, billiards and foosball tables covered in dust and cobwebs lining the floor-to-ceiling windows. Miraculously, this half of the building wasn’t puddling with water, which couldn’t be said for some of the other rooms you wandered through.
All things considered, the furniture was in half-decent shape; you’d been curled in the corner of a couch since you found your way down here, trying and failing to focus on your contrived, though somehow charming, paperback’s narrative. Once night fell, you pulled out your flashlight in a half-assed attempt to try to read, but eventually you gave up, staring blankly at the pages for god knows how long.
Manny always assumed you didn’t care; he always assumed nothing mattered to you. Since the massacre at the hospital five years ago, when you all came together, the two of you were always pushing each other’s buttons in such little, inane ways.
You, who liked to have a plan and to keep a level-head, were so opposite to Manny’s action and emotion-driven attitude, that you were bound to have your disagreements. He was a soldier, ready to throw himself at anything he had to, willing to get his hands dirty; you were made for the backlines, planning and mapping and researching before you’d ever think to pick up a weapon. With the group all together, it was easy to balance out your personalities, easy to maintain order. The two of you had never been left alone together for this long, though.
Despite what Manny might think, you didn’t hate him. You never did. He was irksome and frustrating, but at the end of the day you respected him - his skills, his loyalty, his drive. Perhaps in another life - one in which you all weren’t forced to grow up in a dying world - things could have been different, you two could have been… well, something.
You thought about it from time-to-time, what life would be like if the last of the Fireflies could live those ‘normal’ lives you’d read about in books or seen in movies. You figured that your personalities clashed enough that maybe none of you would have befriended each other, considering that you came together as a means of survival rather than out of kinship.
But then you’d think about the good moments you shared. When you would stumble across something strange in an old magazine and immediately show Nora. When Mel would bring back little odds-and-ends that she thought were interesting. When you and Manny would actually laugh together at a joke one of you said that the others didn’t find quite so funny.
Maybe normal wouldn’t have been so bad.
Somewhere nearby, a door creaked on its hinges, startling you out of your reverie. You shot up in your seat, eyes wide as you looked left and right and behind; forgetting about your book, you clicked off your flashlight and reached for the knife strapped to your thigh, just in case the noise wasn’t friendly.
Heart beating rapidly, you prayed that it was everyone else managing to make their way back despite the dark of night. You carefully stood, taking light steps towards the door, ducking behind furniture and posts as you went.
And then you heard Manny’s voice calling your name, his tone frustrated; your chest deflated with ease as you sheathed your knife. You flicked your light back on and wrenched open the heavy door, drawing his attention from across the expansive lobby; you weren’t sure if you were imagining it, but it looked as if he let out a sigh of relief.
He lifted his arms, indicating the building around him, the beam from his own flashlight dancing aimlessly across the wall, “Had me searching this whole damn place for you.”
Manny’s mood seemed to have calmed, if his easy tone was anything to go on; maybe you wouldn’t have to take anymore attitude with him. One of the nearby windows, though still mostly intact, was missing a corner of glass, the bleak night air making you tug your collar up as if that could protect you from the cold.
You shrugged ruefully, “That was kinda the intention.”
Manny studied you, eyes searching your face and looking you up and down; it made you wonder what the hell was going on in his head. His jaw flexed as he nodded, accepting your reasoning, while looking about the lobby - toppled over furniture, icy floors from where water flooded in, shelves layered in cobwebs and dust.
“We stick together,” he said simply, echoing what you’d said to him a couple of hours ago, “you’re right about that. So long as it’s just the two of us here, we aren’t splitting up again.”
You nodded in agreement, chewing at the inside of your lip thoughtfully as your gaze dropped to the floor. There was a part of you that wanted to discuss your earlier argument, but neither you nor Manny were the type of people to apologize, so you refrained.
“Any sight of them yet?” You asked as your eyes trailed to the wall of windows facing the lake - endless darkness, no lights for miles and miles. Not even the shine of the stars and reflection of the moon was visible through the heavy snowfall, which caused a wave of stress to roll up your spine; the weather hadn’t let up in the slightest.
“No.” You looked back at Manny, studying his face as best you could with the harsh light and shadows obscuring it. A sigh left you as he slowly crossed the room, “They’ll be okay.”
His tone wasn’t terribly convincing, but you were under the impression that he was saying it in an attempt to reassure the both of you. As he drew closer, you held his gaze, realizing that - despite everything - his deep brown eyes were a comforting sight right now. So, you straightened your shoulders, bolstering yourself to the best of your ability.
“They’ll be okay.” You repeated with far more conviction than Manny had, though you were still trying to make yourself believe it. For a long, tense moment, the two of you stood there in silence until Manny dropped his gaze in consideration.
“Let’s go back upstairs,” he instructed simply. You knew without him saying so that the high ground made him feel safer - from there he could see anyone coming, friend or foe. So, you nodded in agreement, following after him until the two of you were back in the top floor suite that was your temporary camp.
The two small flashlights you had were barely useful with how heavy the blizzard had gotten outside, beams illuminating your respective supply bags, shifted furniture, a small stack of shockingly pristine blankets sat atop a chair. You raised a brow at Manny, but he didn’t notice the look.
“Where the hell did you find those?” You questioned, because they definitely weren’t here earlier.
Manny knelt over his bag, steadying his flashlight between his shoulder and cheek as he dug through his belongings, “Searched some of the other rooms. Guess hotels used to keep them in plastic, so they were covered all this time.”
“Plastic?” You muttered to yourself, before determining that maybe it was a cleanliness thing and moving on; you had been far too young to remember what the world was like before it collapsed. Walking up behind Manny, you peered over his shoulder; he was digging out what food you two managed to find before the storm hit, which wasn’t much - mixed nuts, some kind of canned meat that you didn’t quite trust.
He held the bag of nuts up to you, “Hungry?”
Honestly, you weren’t. You probably should have been, but considering the stress that had been gnawing at you for hours, it didn’t seem possible for you to have an appetite right now. Glancing at your face, Manny must have read as much, shrugging as he closed his bag and situated himself in one of the chairs that he’d moved to face the window. Ripping open the bag, he scooped a handful into his mouth while gazing out into the haze of snow.
You stared at the back of Manny’s head, mindlessly studying his silhouette; there was strain in his shoulders, a slump to his posture. Was it because of his worrying over the rest of the crew, was it your fight earlier, was it something else entirely? You ruled it was most likely a combination of all the above.
Glancing towards your own bag, you began to make a mental list of all the stock you had between the two of you - the food, batteries, some scarce hygienic supplies, knives and guns and bullets. Did you still have fresh water? Would you run out of food while waiting out the weather? A surge of panic shot through you at all the variables that you simply couldn’t predict.
As if it would help anything, you clicked off your flashlight - at the very least, you could control how many batteries you blew through. So, you might be stumbling around in the dark for a while? There were far worse things than that. Manny either didn’t notice or care about the absence of an additional light, his own resting upon a table and shining into the room, casting harsh shadows across walls and furniture. You were nearly surprised that he wasn’t using it as a beacon for the others, but then again, it could just as easily be a beacon for less than desirable guests.
Swallowing down the anxious lump in your throat, you approached Manny, dragging over another heavy chair to sit beside him. Plopping down into it, you glanced over, but his gaze remained forward. You took the opportunity to study his profile - brow furrowed like it always seemed to be, jaw clenched, eyes intently staring into the dark night. Since you met him, Manny always seemed to have a wealth of tension in his body, like an animal ready to pounce if he ever had to.
Your gaze trailed down the length of his body studiously, his elbows rusting atop his knees, fingers knotted tightly together, heel tapping with that usual impatience you’d come to associate with him. Sympathetically, your brow turned down, as if you could suddenly see all his years of agitation and restlessness and irritation.
“Stop doing that.” Manny’s low voice surprised you; he still had yet to pull his eyes away from the flurry of snow.
Your expression knotted slightly, “Doing what?”
Did the corner of his mouth upturn ever so slightly? Maybe you were just seeing things. He sighed faintly through his nose, “Doing that thing you do.”
The confused furrow of your brow deepened. Sensing your confusion, a small huff left Manny as he finally swiveled his gaze towards you, straightening in his seat just a little.
“The way you watch people.” He said as if it were obvious, “It’s like you’re… seeing right through them, digging around in their heads until you figure them out.”
You could see, now that you were staring at each other, something akin to amusement in Manny’s eyes as he continued, “I’ve watched you do it dozens of times, but it’s different knowing that you’re doing it to me. I don’t like the idea of you seeing something that others aren’t supposed to.”
Suddenly self-conscious, you dropped your gaze, biting your lip, “I didn’t realize it was that… intense.”
“It’s why you’re good at what you do; you're observant. We wouldn’t be here without it.” He said almost dismissively, as if it pained him to give you anything even resembling a compliment. Despite your nerves, you smiled faintly to yourself, glancing back up at Manny through your lashes.
“I didn’t think anyone noticed. That I watch people, I mean.”
Manny worked his jaw in consideration, as if he had a response on his tongue but was hesitant to share it. Though, a moment later, he caved to his thoughts, “Not sure if anyone else has. Just me, far as we both know.”
That smile of yours grew just a little bigger, eyes narrowing slightly. Really, you wanted to ask him why and when he ever noticed it in the first place. Considering just how much he disliked you, you’d figured through the years that he’d want as little to do with you as possible.
As if reading your mind, Manny turned his gaze back out towards the sky; you could see the tightness in his expression even better now that he was looking away.
“So, what are we gonna do?” He asked firmly; he almost turned his eyes back towards you - you could see it in the faint twitch of his head - but he refrained.
You took a deep breath as you mulled it over. It’s probably been ten hours now without any sign of the crew, and the both of you were well beyond concerned about it. Per the rules, if they weren’t back in another two hours, then you and Manny should technically go looking for them. But considering the weather was only growing meaner and uglier, that seemed like the worst thing you could do right now.
You followed Manny’s lead, staring out at the heavy snow, listening to the harsh wind blasting against the building, rattling windows and paneling. You always seemed to run cold, but just the sound of the storm’s severity made you shiver.
“We wait out the night.” You finally said. You only briefly considered how strange it was that Manny was allowing you to make the calls, but then you figured it was his soldier mentality - he wasn’t the decision maker, though he was a devoted follower, “There’s nothing we can do with the weather like this. We rest, we prep, we head out once the sun’s up, and we find them. Storm can’t last forever.”
For a long stretch, the two of you sat in agreeable silence, watching the snow fall for lack of anything better to do. Briefly, you wished you hadn’t forgotten that paperback downstairs - didn’t matter how bad it was, it would have at least given you something to do.
You tried not to let your gaze drift back towards Manny, wary of making him feel uneasy under your eyes again, but you couldn’t help stealing glances. From his hard set brow to his lips, down to his tense hands and bouncing knee; if anything, he could use something to keep him preoccupied even more than you could.
“When you searched the rooms,” you started simply for the sake of creating conversation again, “did you find anything else? Anything we can use?”
Manny shrugged as if none of it mattered, “Couple bars of soap, bottle of water, half a dozen bibles.”
The both of you huffed out a faint laugh, “Well, if I’m feeling really desperate for something to read, I guess I know where to look.”
Manny glanced back towards you, looking you up and down once, “What, already finish that stupid book you’ve been carrying around?”
You gave him a teasing glare, “Forgot it downstairs.”
He hummed quietly, “Must not have been that good… If you want, we can go back and get it.”
A surprised smile graced your lips at Manny’s offer; you weren’t expecting such a simple kindness from him. Though you considered it for a moment, you shook your head, “We should stay put.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, making a measly attempt at relaxing in his seat. Another beat of silence passed between you, “What was it about?”
Your brow furrowed, another half-assed laugh leaving you, “Oh, you must be bored if you’re asking about some romance novel.”
Manny laughed as well, “What else are we gonna talk about? The weather?”
You gave him a faux affronted look, though you appreciated his ability to joke about the one thing causing you both intense stress. There was something in his expression that you couldn’t quite place, almost companionship or admiration or something else you couldn't name. Grinning, you, too, settled into your seat, curling up to keep your body heat in; if it got any colder, you’d be bundling up in every single blanket the two of you had.
“It was some old-timey story,” You started, trying to find the right word, “not, uh, Victorian, but something else like it. The guy’s a lord or a duke, butting heads with his love interest the entire book. The tension was pretty good, all things considered.”
You looked back towards Manny, chewing at your lower lip as you recalled the plot. Remembering what was next, you diverted your gaze bashfully, “I got distracted somewhere after the wedding - hard to focus on it while being worried outta my mind over everyone else. Things were just about to get sexy, too.”
Manny snorted slightly, “I thought those books were all sex.”
You shrugged with an amused grin, “Guess not this one. Maybe that’s what the second half is gonna be. Might have to grab it before we leave tomorrow, and let you know how filthy things get.”
“Looking forward to it.” He joked, laughing smally in his chest, “Might just have to borrow it once you’re done.”
“Oh, you’ll love it.” You continued to jest, finding ease in the calm between you two, your anxieties briefly lifted as you laughed together.
A huge gust of wind blew against the building, causing the windows to rattle again; from another room, you heard glass break, shards tinkling to the floor, and with it the suite was suddenly colder. You and Manny both straightened in your seats as a door creaked, swaying back and forth with the draft.
Cursing under your breath, you rose to your feet, feeling Manny a step behind you, following the sound of groaning hinges till you found the culprit. One of the bedroom windows had already been cracked, and it finally gave in under the strain of the storm.
You peered into the room, eyes having adjusted to the dark just enough to make out the shine of snowfall and glass littering the floor. Backing up, you bumped into Manny’s chest, not realizing how close he’d been behind you; muttering a quick apology, you yanked the door closed, hoping that the latch was still intact enough that you wouldn’t have to worry. Again, you shivered - were you actually cold, or was it simply because you knew the harsh weather had gained one more small way to seep into the building?
You and Manny were still practically standing on top of each other, so he must have noticed the tremble of your shoulders or the clatter of your teeth. He tugged up the collar of your jacket again, checking that it was zipped up all the way; you would have thought it intimate if it weren’t for the harsh, instinctive way that he did it.
“You can’t be that cold all the time; been shivering like a wet cat since we left Seattle.” His tone seemed mildly jesting, yet there still seemed to be something mean about it.
“Shut up, I’m fine.” You bit back, brushing past him, “We should check the other bedrooms; probably best to just close everything up in case any more windows decide to give up on us.”
You didn’t know what hotels or resorts were supposed to be like, but you knew this suite was big, considering it’s four bedrooms and full kitchen; you’d read somewhere about deluxe rooms, or something like that, so now you knew what the hell that was describing.
Splitting up, you both checked the rooms, closing each of the doors as you went. This place seemed sturdy, but it was still nonetheless worn away by time. Returning to the front hall, you checked the front door seal on the off chance that maybe the lock still somehow worked, though you were soon let down, as it was jammed and unable to be secured. You made a mental note that you two needed to be extra mindful before you turned your attention back towards Manny.
He’d left his flashlight atop a table, so you could only make out his silhouette; you had the feeling he was staring back at you, too. With a faint sigh, you tried to find the pile of blankets he’d set aside earlier.
“We should try to get some sleep.” You instructed, despite the fact that you were wide awake. Though, curling up in all those blankets sounded nice, and maybe you’d finally be warm.
“You rest.” Manny answered with a small shake of his head, “I’ll take first watch just in case; wake you up in a few hours.”
He had a point - considering there were only two of you, it wouldn’t be wise for you both to drop your guard. But you nonetheless protested, “I can take watch, I’m wide fucking awake as it is.”
You heard him sigh, probably irritated with you yet again, “Then I guess we’re not sleeping at all tonight.”
“Manny--”
“I’ll sleep when I’m tired.” He interrupted, returning back to that damn chair of his, “Do whatever you want.”
You stared as he settled back into his seat, squaring his shoulders; you couldn’t help but roll your eyes while crossing your arms at him. For a long stretch, the both of you were silent, though you were unable to hold back the question that you’d been wanting to ask since the two of you made it to the resort, “What’s your problem with me, honestly?”
You heard Manny laugh without humor. Turning his head, you could vaguely make out his profile, that familiar sharp nose and strong jaw. Suddenly, you didn’t like that you’d asked the question, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. Silence stretched out between you, longer than you would have liked - Manny wasn’t the type to hold his tongue.
Finally, he took a breath, his voice less assertive than you were expecting, “I don’t have a problem with you…”
Now, it was your turn to give a deriding laugh, “You sure?”
Manny shook his head and sighed, returning his attention back to the storm outside, much to your annoyance. You continued to stare at the back of his head for a few long moments, before giving up; guess you’d let him take the first watch after all. Considering that your two options right now were to either sleep or sit around stressing out, you may as well sleep.
So, you began to arrange some kind of make-shift bed out of the blankets and a couple pillows that weren’t completely moth-eaten. You pushed the tattered couch, using it as a barrier between you and the door, with Manny and the window opposite of it.
You worked quietly, settling into the blankets, trying to ignore how uncomfortable it was to be wrapped up while fully clothed and on the hard floor. By now, you should have been used to this kind of sleeping arrangement, but maybe the stress and tension were just causing every little thing to bother you.
“Hey,” Manny urged in a hushed whisper. You knew for a fact you hadn’t been sleeping long because you could feel the groggy discomfort in your head. Groaning, you stirred, realizing that you could feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder, “You good?”
Your expression knotted as you came back to consciousness. The darkness was the same now as it had been when you lied down, though at some point Manny had clicked off his flashlight. As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you tried to find him in the shadows, tugging at the blankets as the cold somehow seemed to penetrate right to your core. Your voice came out hoarse and whiny, “What?”
“You were moaning in your sleep.” He explained, fingers squeezing your shoulder faintly as you shuddered from the cold, “Jesus, you still cold under all that?”
“Shut up…” You groaned, already wide awake again. That was the nature of living like this, always moving and on high alert - rest and relaxation were an impossibility, “I’m fine.”
Manny sighed before clicking his tongue decisively. He took his hand back, and you could make out the way he brushed it across his forehead and eyes as if he was already feeling peeved at you all over again.
“Scooch.” He instructed.
“Huh?”
Another irked sigh left him, “Make room. You’ll do better with some body heat.”
You scoffed, “Don’t, it’s fine--”
“Just do it.”
With an exasperated huff, you shuffled over, tugging and shifting the blankets around yourself as Manny sat beside you. Under your breath, you grumbled incoherently, growing tense at the feel of his body settling in right there next to yours, shoulder bumping against yours. He rested his back upon the uncomfortable floor, laying like a board as you continued fussing with the blankets as some measly form of distraction.
But you knew you couldn’t be avoidant forever, so you eventually forced yourself to lie back, body just as rigid as Manny’s beside you. Your arm brushed his, and you attempted to shuffle away.
“Will you stop moving?” He urged, pushing closer to you intentionally, “Defeats the purpose, I’m trying to help regulate your temperature.”
“I told you I was fine.”
“You’ve been chattering all damn night,” Manny pressed his arm against yours, knee nudging you as he grumbled in irritation, “Be thankful I didn’t suggest skin-to-skin…”
Much to your chagrin, you felt a small jolt through you at the idea, your imagination too vivid for your own good sometimes. Picturing - even if just for a brief moment - the feel of Manny’s bare skin on top of yours, warm hands and tangled legs, mouth exploring every inch…
“Gross.” You spat out despite that obnoxious little sensation that stirred in your stomach. No, you were not about to picture Manny, of all people, in a compromising position like that. Maybe that stupid paperback had gotten to your head - after all, you didn’t read quite far enough to get to the good stuff, leaving you hungry to know what happened next.
It was like you could feel the way Manny’s eyes rolled at you as he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. You did the same, glowering up at the ceiling as if it had personally offended you.
For a long couple of minutes, the two of you stayed put, like two stubborn children unwilling to come to an agreement. Not that you would admit it, but having him there next to you did help warm you up, though you may also have your own dirty mind to blame for the flesh of heat through your body.
As the wind picked up even more aggressively outside, the creaking and rattling of the building around you sent another shudder through your body. Dutifully and without hesitation, Manny inched closer to you in response; you hoped the way you leaned towards his touch was subtle enough for him not to notice.
“We cool?” Manny asked in a low tone, causing your brows to raise.
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because it sorta seems like we never are.” He countered instantly, as if he had guessed exactly how you would respond. In your periphery, you could feel the way he turned his head to gaze at your profile, which caused you to tense up even more. An unamused laugh passed through his lips, faintly fluttering against your cheek; you had to refrain from sighing at its warmth, “You never really liked me. Sometimes it seems like you can barely tolerate me.”
Surprised, you turned your head as well, trying to make out his expression in the dark, “Says the guy who hates me.”
This time, you shivered with nerves, though Manny couldn’t have known the difference, as he tried to press closer to you again. He didn’t answer for a brief moment, mulling over his response before muttering dismissively, “Hate you? No mames…”
“Oh, come on,” feeling wide awake now, you rolled onto your side, propping your head in the palm of your head, “for five years we’ve argued over stupid shit, poking at each other all the time. What else am I supposed to think?”
You could vaguely see Manny’s lips turn down in consideration before he teased, “Maybe I just like arguing with you? Keeps things interesting.”
“Yeah right,” you laughed while shaking your head, “Why you so worried about it all of a sudden?”
This time, the pause between you was different, hesitant and strained. Though you couldn’t quite discern Manny’s expression in the dark, his head turned down slightly, jaw flexing. Something about it made you uneasy.
His voice was just above a whisper, serious and contemplative, “Well, on the off chance that something bad happened out there…”
He briefly stalled, as if he didn’t want to finish the sentence. It gave you just enough time to let the words sink in, the weight of them heavy upon you. Yes, for all you knew, all of your companions could be dead or sick or buried in snow out there. For all you knew--
“--you might be all I have left.” Manny’s confession had a somber quality to it, causing a pressure in your chest that was a confused mess of dismay and want and unease. You sucked in a breath, trying to maintain your calm.
Because Manny was right. You might be all he has left, just as much as he might be all you have left. The past few years aside, what would you two do if it were only you? Despite being able to keep a level-head, despite being rational, you couldn’t help but entertain those fears; in order to stay sane, you also had to be able to look into the mouth of the beast, so to speak.
In all this time, your group had never been separated this long unless it had been planned - for five long years, the last of the Fireflies had become the closest thing you had to family.
“Manny,” you whispered reassuringly, leaning towards him to make your point, chest lightly pressing against his shoulder and arm, “everyone’s okay. You and me, we’re good together; if they can’t find us, we’ll find them. And if for some fucking reason it is just you and me now, we’ll take care of each other.”
He faintly laughed, the sound uncertain, his warm breath tickling your cheeks again, “Like we always do…”
“I haven’t let you die yet,” you teased, hoping a bit of levity might put him at ease.
“I’m sure you thought about it at least once.” He quipped.
“Well, only when you were being really annoying.” You smiled contently, appreciating the sincerity between you two. With Manny, you’d always put up fronts or used jokes against one another - really, you’d never had much of a serious one-on-one conversation, even after all this time. There was another charged pause between you.
“I never hated you, you know.” Manny’s tone was so frank and warm and… perhaps affectionate, strange as that seemed.
You startled as his hand brushed your shoulder - you were so focused on his face that you hadn’t realized he moved. His fingers slid carefully along your collarbone, hesitating at the base of your neck; your body became tense, taken aback by the knot in your chest, by the tenderness of his touch. What the hell was this about?
With a sharp, sad breath, you leaned back, hoping Manny would allow his hand to fall away from you. Instead, he gently pressed his palm to the side of your neck, keeping you close, “Don’t.”
You could feel the intensity of his eyes staring at you, fingers lightly flexing against your skin, “Don’t what?”
Shaking your head, you tried to calm the skip of your heart, the spike of nerves that swelled in your body. It was like a surge of heat from head to toe, a part of you aching for it while another part wishing to get away from it.
“We’re not doing the ‘all hope is lost’ thing. Don’t project feelings onto me that aren’t there, it isn’t fair to either of us.” You managed to sound more assured than you felt, your resolve already wavering.
You never ever hated Manny, either. Of course you never hated him; you wouldn’t have tolerated his bullshit otherwise. Yes, the two of you bickered and poked fun at each other, threatening to trade foraging partners when one of you was particularly irksome to the other. But neither of you ever followed through with it, because at the end of the day, neither of you would ever want to work with anyone else.
You and Manny fit together. He was resourceful, you were knowledgeable; he knew when to act first, and you knew when to plan ahead. You’d learned to read each other without speaking a single word; how to fight together seamlessly when shit went south. So what, you’d never had a serious, heartfelt conversation, even after years working side-by-side? Didn’t the knowing glances and elbow jabs and shared laughs make up for that? Hell, you knew for a fact that no one understood you like Manny did, and vice versa.
And, fuck, that was the problem, wasn’t it?
“I’m not doing that.” Manny insisted in that tone you knew so well - earnest and cross, adamant because he didn’t want to be brushed off. Allowing his hand to fall, he propped himself up, resting his elbows on the floor to be eye level with you.
“Aren’t you, though?” You argued, though your tone had no conviction to it, “All this time and you wait till now to, what, make a move?”
Manny scoffed and shook his head, but it seemed a measly attempt to protect himself rather than a reflection of any upset he felt. He took a deep breath, his attentive eyes searching your face candidly, “You ever think that maybe I’ve liked you this whole time, nena?”
The question caused you to inhale sharply, an anxious jolt shooting through your chest. Your mouth hung slightly ajar as you tried to believe him before you swallowed your nerves, asking quietly, “This whole time?”
Manny shifted before reaching towards you again, thumb brushing along your jaw before his hand tentatively returned to the back of your neck; a very faint, unamused laugh escaped him, “Think about it?”
And you were. You tried to recall all the times you two argued, only for you to realize he had a charmed glint in his eyes; all the times he was the first person you looked to whenever things went bad. When being in each other’s space went from being a necessity to being a comforting familiarity; when Nora started mocking the two of you for acting like an old married couple.
Those times you’d catch Manny staring at you, only for him to look away. How he’d whisper a stupid joke in your ear that he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Those little unnecessary touches - a hand at the small of your back, knees brushing when you sat side-by-side despite there being more than enough room for you both. You’d wake up sometimes in the middle of the night with an extra blanket draped over you. Or on foraging hunts when Manny would bring you a little something just because he thought you might like it.
Fuck, you were an idiot. How was it all so painfully obvious, yet managed to go completely over your head all this time?
A laugh of realization and disbelief escaped you, yet it was also a laugh of relief - like some weight you weren’t even aware of had finally been lifted from your shoulders.
“I’m so stupid…” You muttered, shaking your head at yourself.
Sensing your shift in attitude, your walls coming down, Manny jested quietly, drawing just that little bit closer to you, “Well, I didn’t want to be the one to say it, but…”
You giggled again nervously, rolling your eyes and biting your lip. Your nerves were like an electric current, static through your limbs, heart pounding in your chest. Hesitantly, you reached towards Manny, gently resting your hand to his chest, fingers splaying over his collarbone. To your relief, he leaned into the touch, resting his forehead carefully against yours while taking in a deep breath.
“For the record, I never hated you, either.” You murmured. Manny’s grip tightened ever so slightly on the back of your neck.
“I know.”
His mouth found yours urgently, a surprised hum rising in your throat; he tasted bitter and sharp, utterly intoxicating as you savored him. You could feel Manny’s smile against your lips, charmed by your reaction as his fingers flexed eagerly on your skin. Pressing closer, you wound your arms around his neck, kissing him as if you’d been starved and he was the only thing that could satiate you.
The two of you were in-sync just as you always were, hands groping, mouths insistent, bodies slotting together as Manny laid you back on the pile of blankets, his weight atop you warm and comforting like he belonged there. Just like all your silent glances, it was as if you knew what the other was thinking, moving together as his tongue slid across your lower lip, your hands tugging desirously at his curls.
Shamelessly, you opened your mouth to him, tongues swirling together as you moaned; Manny’s grip on you grew tighter, incited by the sound. He blindly groped around, fingers brushing over your breast and collarbone till he found the zipper of your coat, yanking it down in one fluid motion before sliding both hands inside it. You arched into the touch, tugging faintly at his hair as a searing coil knotted in your stomach.
Manny groaned salaciously, pushing up the hem of your layered shirts, his touch a scorching fire on your skin. Your hips bucked, heart thumping wildly in your chest. Gliding your hands down his neck and chest, you fumbled with his coat as well, causing him to laugh into your mouth as you struggled with it. His breath hot against your face as he pulled back, sitting up on his heels to rip the layer away, your chest heaving as you watched. Manny’s hands were on you again in a flash, swooping in to capture your lips again.
Propping up on your elbows, you hastily pulled off your own winter coat, not willing to break away from the kiss again so soon. Once your hands were free, you slid them over Manny’s firm torso, humming contently at the feel of him.Sliding your hands beneath his shirts, your body tightened at the guttural sound in his throat, your fingernails grazing over his abs and sides amorously. His hips twitched against yours, causing you to sigh with want.
Manny’s hands traveled down your neck and chest and waist, grabbing as if desperate to feel every part of you all at once. He kissed you ardently before withdrawing his lips, blazing a hot trail along your jaw and neck, sucking at the sweet spot just above your collarbone; the mewl that left you was downright sinful, causing Manny’s faint laugh to vibrate against your skin.
“Oh, that’s the spot, huh?” He teased in a growl that made your body clench wantonly, back arching into his touch, “Should’ve done this years ago…”
Fuck yes he should have. You should have, instead of letting all this want and desire pent up inside you. You were ravenous for Manny’s touch, finally having tasted the forbidden fruit, nails digging into his sides just enough to draw a sigh from him, mouth continuing to nip along the expanse of your neck. You pushed his shirts up higher, desperate to feel every inch of his soft skin, to memorize each curve and blemish with your fingertips.
As Manny rolled his hips far too alluringly against yours, you keened and scratched your nails along his sides, spreading your legs so he could slot between them more easily. The press of him against your center was maddening, making you realize just how long it had been since anyone aside from yourself had touched you. Your pussy clenched with anticipation, Manny’s body making your head spin as you imagined all the things he could do to you.
You groaned incoherently as his teeth gently bit your skin; Manny went rigid for just a moment, enthralled by the sound before he continued ravishing your neck.
You insistently began to tug at his clothes, deciding there were far too many layers between you. It should not have been this erotic to help someone strip, yet his hot breath on your skin and the feel of his body flexing beneath your fingers was dizzying. When finally his chest was bare, Manny leaned back, allowing your hands to explore, although you quickly knotted your fingers in his hair again and drew his mouth back to yours. He smiled against your lips, hips grinding longingly in response.
Manny pulled back after one more sweet kiss, mouth dragging down your neck and chest, hands sliding your shirt up to your breasts to expose your abs to his frenzied lips. His teeth grazed over your stomach, kissing along the curves of your body as your hands tangled in his hair.
Reaching between you, Manny undid your pants swiftly, hooking his fingers into the waistband as his lips hungrily nipped at your skin, biting and sucking feverishly. Your eyes crossed, feeling just how bad that hickey would be later.
Manny gave your pants a quick tug down to your knees, finally breaking his lips away from your skin with an audible pop. Breathing deeply, he shuffled lower, nose grazing over your panties as he pulled at your pants again, helping you out of them before they were tossed carelessly aside. You inhaled sharply at his warm breath so very close to your center, wet and needy and waiting for him.
“Shit…” He muttered, lips brushing over the thin fabric of your panties, your hips rolling instinctively, “Not fair that you smell that good.”
The compliment made you whine hungrily, nails scratching through his hair. He pressed a kiss to the fabric between you, causing you to buck again with a gasp. Resting his hands firmly on your thighs, he trailed down that little bit further, breath hot and moist along your slit, causing your eyes to roll back. His fingers dug faintly into your flesh as he took in the smell of your desire, making you squirm with anticipation.
And then he pressed his tongue flat to your pussy, spit soaking through your already damp panties as you moaned unabashedly, causing Manny’s own hum to rock against you. Your grip on his hair tightened as he began to lap at you slowly, tip of his tongue flicking over your clit over and over, making your toes curl.
“Oh, fuck…” You muttered, grinding your hips against Manny’s mouth in time with the strokes of his tongue. Another growl sounded in his throat as he held your thighs firmly as if to keep the both of you at a slow, steady pace. Your body jolted when he teased at your entrance, the measly layer of fabric the only thing keeping you two apart and causing you frustration.
As if he could read your mind, Manny slid a hand up your leg, hooking a finger around the fabric of your panties and pulling them out of the way, his mouth pulling back a mere inch. His hot breath teased along your slit, making you ache for him.
A desirous sound of approval rumbled in his chest before Manny pressed his mouth to your pussy, causing you to yelp at the feel of his wet tongue bare against you. The hand on your thigh tightened its grip as he hungrily ate you out, mouth ravenously sucking on your clit, tongue diving between your folds insatiably. You threw your head back with a vulgar cry, already seeing stars as you rolled your hips greedily, causing Manny to splay his hand across your pelvis in an effort to hold you in place.
“Slow down, baby…” He groaned into your pussy, the roughness of his tone doing nothing to make you any less wet and desperate, especially when he went back to devouring you in the same breath. Your legs were already shaking on either side of his head, five long years making it damn near impossible to keep yourself from coming undone.
It was like an electric spark each time his tongue teased at your clit, your whimpers growing only more desperate and carnal. Your legs began to clench around him, forcing Manny to firmly grip both your thighs, fingers digging into your skin to keep you from tightening around his head. You trembled in his strong hold, rutting desperately against his mouth, the both of you moaning with a drunken pleasure.
“Oh god--!” You stuttered with a gasp, Manny’s mouth unrelenting on your clit, eating you out like you were his goddamn last meal, “Manny--!”
You felt him tense before his mouth grew even more frenzied, the sound of his name on your tongue sinful and encouraging. Your breath came out short and gasping and desperate, head swirling with bliss, body trembling as you rode his tongue closer and closer to your release.
And then you spiralled abruptly, cumming hard and intense as your body tightened, moans spilling from your lips like prayer. Manny lapped at your desire, taking another deep breath of you as his hands held so tight to your trembling thighs that you knew it would bruise. You shook in his hands, body melting as he continued to cruelly tease at your clit with his tongue, incoherent words of pleasure falling from your mouth.
When your hands finally untangled from his hair, Manny relented, pulling back to catch his breath as you rode the high of your orgasm, eyes crossed and head fuzzy. His nose brushed along your inner thigh, causing you to twitch; an airy laugh tickled against your skin in response.
“God…” He grumbled, resting his forehead against your leg for a moment. The distinct smell of sex reached you, sweaty and sweet and musky, as your chest heaved with steady breaths. Though your limbs felt weak, you gently brushed your hand over Manny’s curls, staring up at the ceiling as you composed yourself.
Manny began a slow crawl up your body, lips grazing over your skin wantonly until you were nose-to-nose, tasting your own sex in the air between you two. He firmly pressed his groin against your sensitive core, drawing a faint whimper from your lips, which he captured in a deep, impassioned kiss.
Your hands explored his body, delighting in the flex of his muscles, the heat of his skin. His tongue slid into your mouth zealously, tasting you with a deep moan. For the first time in days, you finally felt warm, sweat dampening the small of your back. Without breaking away from Manny’s lips, you began to tug your shirts up, only splitting for half a second so you could yank them over your head.
Manny cupped your breasts, squeezing eagerly and groaning as your nipples hardened under his touch. He drew his lips away, kissing down your neck until he could tenderly bite the soft flesh of your chest; your toes curled as he sucked another hickey to your skin, hooking your heels on the backside of his legs while rutting your hips again.
Satisfied with the bruise he left, Manny captured your lips fiercely, rolling his hips, his erection strained and beguiling within his pants. Your legs tightened either side of him, using the leverage to move with him, grinding against his cock slowly, drawing an illicit groan from his lips.
Manny grabbed firm hold of you, flipping your bodies around in one fluid motion to put you on top. Sitting up, he practically devoured your lips, the kiss sloppy and salacious. In his lap, you continued grinding your hips, arching your back as the friction caused you to whine, your sex dampening through your panties to his jeans.
God, the feel of him swollen and hard against your clit was mouthwatering, your pace growing more urgent and needy as Manny groped at you with feverish hands, squeezing and rubbing and scratching like he was afraid someone might steal you away from him. He reached around your back, unclipping your bra and tossing it away; prying his lips from yours, he took one of your peaked nipples into his hot mouth, tongue swirling and teeth grazing. You cried out, head falling back as you leaned into his touch, your pussy slick with want as your hips stuttered.
You muttered achingly as Manny fondled your breasts, his hips bucking needily beneath you as he growled with impatience. Your fingers knotted in his hair again, tugging just hard enough to make him hiss as you rut against him.
Feeling like a tightly wound coil again, you pried yourself off Manny, much to his protest, shuffling down his legs just enough to undo his jeans, pulling them away before crawling back to him. You cupped his erection through his boxers, sighing sharply at his size and girth; you gave him a gentle squeeze, causing him to groan while grinding himself into your hand. You began to stroke him through the underwear, hand slow and firm as it teased along his length, thumb running over his tip, hitting a spot he must have loved given the way he twitched and groaned.
You grabbed the waistband of the boxers and drew them down, the head of Manny’s cock bouncing against his stomach with a dull thump. You stroked him again, lightly squeezing as you went from head to hilt at a cruel pace, teasing along the vein on the underside of his length. As your hand began to bounce at a steady rhythm, Manny lied back, mouth ajar and eyes closed.
“Baby…” He grumbled, hips bucking up to meet your hand, causing his thigh muscle to tighten beneath your pussy, making you moan right along with him.
Giving into your impatience, you yanked off your panties, crawling over Manny so you could press a fierce kiss to his lips. As you tried to pull away, he cupped the back of your neck, tongue sliding into your mouth as he kissed you like you were the air he breathed, moaning desperately in his throat. His opposite hand slid between you, fingertips swirling your swollen clit and causing you to shiver.
When finally your lips broke apart, you were gasping for air, Manny’s cock twitching against your inner thighs, your knees slightly trembling thanks to the lazy winding of his fingers on your sex. The glint in his hooded eyes caused you to smile affectionately, repositioning yourself till you were centered over his erection, his hands gliding along your thighs and hips and waist like you were something coveted.
Manny dug his fingers into your hip, grinding your wet pussy along the length of his cock, whispering endearments so low that you could barely make them out. Steadying your hands upon his firm chest, the friction between you nearly made you whine. Manny took a deep breath as he shifted you so that he was lined up with your entrance, the two of you lingering for a moment as you stared into each other’s faces.
And then you slowly lowered yourself onto him, groaning in unison as you stretched around his girth. You were so wet already, taking him hilt deep with a shudder at the feel of him inside you. Manny held still, composing himself as you adjusted to his size - five years without dick make you feel like a damn virgin all over again, the twitch inside you causing a yelp of pleasure to jump from your lips.
You stayed like this a moment longer before you unhurriedly rut against Manny’s hips, another raptured cry escaping you at the pressure against your clit. Manny’s grip became even more firm against your skin, deep breaths inflating his chest as he ground up into you, finding that sweet spot deep inside you far, far too easily. Your hips moved together, jerky and uncoordinated, desperately chasing the delectable sensation coursing between your bodies.
Manny’s hands drift around to your ass, squeezing encouragingly as he rolled his hips, your name hot on his tongue. He lifted you just a couple inches off of him, cupping your rear so he could thrust up into you, skin clapping together while your nails dug into his pecs. He hit you nice and deep over and over again, the thrust of his hips growing more unyielding with each mewl and cry that slurred from your mouth. Fuck, his dick was intoxicating, the way it stretched you out and filled you up, making your eyes cross and your limbs trembled.
Hungry for more, you began to bounce on your knees, stuttering until you matched Manny’s rhythm, bracing your hands either side of his head to get a deeper angle. You exhaled sharply as he buried himself inside you, thrusts growing feverish, skin slick with sweat. A growl rose deep in his chest, craning his neck to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling. You moaned into his mouth, rolling your hips erratically.
Manny’s greedy hands trailed back up your body, fondling your tits, tweaking your nipples between his fingers. A fierce little “come here” rumbled in his throat, drawing your chest towards him so he could bite at your flesh again. The new angle of your hips caused pressure on your clit that made you cry out, body shuddering with pleasure as Manny drove his cock deep inside you over and over again.
“Fu-uck--!” You whined loudly, grinding your hips as Manny became more frantic, thrusts hard and lecherous and like a drug. His breath was hot against your breasts, your back arching as his hands explored your body, gripping firmly at your waist as he pushed just that little bit deeper.
Manny drew his knees up to press against your back, using the angle to bury himself in you, hand trailing down to massage your clit with the pad of his thumb. Your hips faltered with a yelp as you groped at his arms to keep yourself steady.
He rut his hips hard into you, the slick sound of your skin slapping together causing your pussy to clench tight around him, drawing another hiss from between his teeth. Your body became frenzied, hips rolling and toes curling, a string of gasps spilling from your mouth as his thumb returned to swirling your clit, sending jolts of desire through your body.
“Fuck, you’re falling apart, huh?” Manny growled with a dazzling grin, enthralled by the sight of you as he fought not to come undone himself, “Taking me so good…”
God, his voice made you squirm and moan, riding his cock with a hungry zeal, bouncing on shaky legs as your pussy tightened around him. Drool began to pool under your tongue, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your pace grew sloppy and graceless.
“That’s right, baby…” Manny breathed out, applying more pressure to your clit, stilling the upward thrusts of his hips so you could ride him until you fell apart. You bounced and rutted, chasing the cusp of another orgasm, nails racking harshly along his body before digging into his thighs, which still pressed firmly into your back, using him as leverage for your rapacious grinding.
You managed to find Manny’s intense gaze in the dark, the two of you staring intensely at one another, eyes hooded and mouths hanging open. Under his breath, he murmured a string of “come on, come on” like a mantra, thumb continuing its unrelenting pattern on your clit as your legs began to shake, nails scratching at his skin forcefully enough that you dared to draw blood.
And then it was like a white hot flash of lightning, an obscene cry leaping from your mouth as you clenched tight around Manny’s cock, throwing your head back as everything within you trembled, your release frenzied and wild.
You shook while bracing yourself, orgasm rocking your body, stars behind your eyes as a weak string of moans fell from your tongue. Manny held you tight, squeezing your skin in his hands, watching you with utter awe and ecstasy, the clench of your soaked pussy drawing guttural moans from his chest. His cock twitched inside you, desperate for release, but he resisted the urge so he could focus on how goddamn incredible you looked cumming all over his dick.
When you finally floated down from cloud nine, your body racked with pleasure. Manny’s cock was still buried inside you, rock hard and twitching, sending shocks of euphoria through your body. The tension accompanying your orgasm melted away, legs like pudding as you balanced your hands atop his chest again.
“Fucking hell…” Manny murmured, enthralled by you. A goofy smile graced your lips as you slowly lowered your lips back towards his, moaning into his mouth at the way his full cock shifted inside you. The kiss was deep and sloppy, breathing each other in with such ardent want, molding together as if you were made for it.
Manny gave a slow roll of his hips, hands exploring your hot skin as you continued to whimper against his lips. Slowly, he pushed up inside you, delighting in your gasps and spasms, his tongue delving into your mouth again with desperate desire. You held his jaw tenderly, pulsing around his thrusts; eventually, he pulled back, lips brushing against yours as he spoke.
“Got one more in you, cariño?” He whispered wickedly, smiling triumphantly as you moaned, walls clenching around him again. He was so close, feeling how desperately his body wanted release. When you nodded, nose bumping gently with his, Manny’s arms encircled you, flipping you onto your back faster than you could blink, the motion and accompanying friction making you gasp sinfully.
Manny sat back on his heels, hands stroking down your legs, cock still buried inside you as he positioned your bodies. He spread your legs, pushing them up either side of you, hands holding your knees as he bottomed out, moaning huskily at the feel of you. He rolled his hips steadily, hitting deep inside your wet pussy, fingers digging into your skin. You grasped at the mess of blankets beneath you, body curving up to meet Manny’s thrusts as skin slapped skin, hair sticking to your sweaty neck and forehead.
Manny grunted praises through his teeth, slamming deep into you with rapid strikes. Already so sensitive after your orgasms, you moaned wildly at the way he slid in and out of you, body starting to tremble again. Manny pushed your legs even higher and wider, eyes closed and brow furrowed as he used your body, burying into you with a hungry fervor.
You threw your head back as your thighs tried to clench either side of Manny’s torso, but his grip was firm and strong, holding you in place as your entire body shook with intense pleasure. His thrusts grew even more insistent, fast and deep and mouthwatering.
“That’s right, baby--” He hissed as he slammed into you, “so fucking good--”
His words made you whine delectably, pussy clenching around him, rhythm unrelenting. His breath began to come out in deep shudder, hips stuttering on the edge of release as he stole a few more deep thrusts before abruptly pulling out of you.
It was a shock to be so empty all of a sudden, a loud cry leaving you; in the next moment, Manny was spilling warm seed onto your stomach, his groans overlapping with yours. His hands shook as he clung tight to your legs, his head lulling forward as the last of him pooled on your hot skin, sweat gliding down his taunt muscles.
For a long beat, neither of you moved as you caught your breath. Eventually, you lowered your legs either side of him, reaching trembling hands up to cup Manny’s jaw as he balanced above you, swooping in to steal a needy kiss. The both of you moaned at the taste of each other, your body still yearning for him despite the three orgasms he already gave you. Pulling back, he pressed his sweaty forehead to yours, breathing you in deeply for a minute.
“Be right back.” Manny whispered roughly, grunting as he pushed back on his heels before rising to his feet, legs still shaky. You hummed in acknowledgement, watching his silhouette move through the dark, listening as he rummaged in his bag and opened a canteen. He returned moments later, kneeling beside you and pressing a damp cloth to your stomach, causing you to faintly gasp at the chill of it cleaning your skin of his mess.
“Thanks,” You giggled, cock-drunk and giddy, once Manny was done. He sat down beside you again, huddling himself in the blankets as a sweet laugh met your ears.
“For what - the mindblowing sex?” He teased, to which you gave him a half-assed punch in the arm, which only made him laugh again.
“Shut up, asshole.” You smiled fondly, eyes fluttering shut contently.
Your body had finally relaxed, a thin layer of sweat glistening over your skin, which finally allowed for the blizzard outside to chill you to the bone again, your teeth chattering. Looking about in the dark, it was hard to tell where exactly any of your clothes had ended up, but before you could even crawl away from the comfort of your blankets, Manny gently grabbed your arm.
He tugged you into him, muttering against your hair, “Worry about it in the morning.”
“And freeze in the middle of the night?” You countered, though being curled in his side and huddled together was doing wonders for your temperature. It reminded you of what he said earlier, which already felt lifetimes away, causing you to huff out a small laugh, “Guess we’re doing the skin-to-skin thing after all, huh?”
Manny laughed, too, arms tightening around you as he grumbled again, echoing your words back at you, “Shut up, asshole.”
“Sheesh, look at these two.”
A voice and accompanying snickers pierced through your unconscious, causing you to start abruptly, instinctively reaching for your knife that was nowhere to be found. The warm body beside you shot up with a gasp, seemingly fumbling around for something as well, which caused even more raucous laughter.
And then, of course, your mind caught up with you as you recalled last night, eyes straining to open against the harsh sunlight reflecting off the snow outside.
“So, this is what you were doing instead of searching for us?” Nora’s familiar voice taunted, your vision still heavy with sleep. Mortification shot through you like a bullet, feeling your neck and ears grow hot as you slumped under the blankets as if to hide your shame.
Manny’s body was warm beside you, his morning voice gravelly; despite yourself, it caused a faint stirring in your stomach, “Fuck off.”
The sheet over your head was tugged away, Owen’s teasing face there to greet you as you shivered at the cold, “Aw, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed.”
“Stop…” You whined sleepily, crossing your arms over your chest on the off-chance that you may end up more exposed than you would like.
Eyes adjusted to the light, you looked from one face to the next - everyone seemed to be amused, even Abby, who tried to hide that behind a glare. Fuck, this is just what you needed first thing in the morning.
Manny clicked his tongue, pulling a blanket around his bare shoulders and torso, “We were gonna look for you today.”
“Just had to get some first?” Mel asked with a laugh, rolling her eyes before shooting you a wink.
“Get dressed.” Abby chimed in before either of you could rise to the bait. Curling into yourself, you pressed closer to Manny to steal some of his body heat, “We gotta make some progress before another storm hits. Right?”
She looked at you with raised brows, as if you could simply predict the weather like some kind of magician. You sighed while weakly nodding, attempting to stifle a yawn.
“Yeah, yup, before another storm.” You answered roughly, raising your hand to wave it in the direction of the door, “Will you all go please?”
“Oh, she wants some privacy.” Nora continued to tease, even as she began to slowly back up towards the door, the others following suit.
“Five minutes.” Abby instructed, still fighting to hold in her own mirth at your predicament, “Any longer and we’ll drag you out.”
You and Manny watched as they trickled out of the room. Nora stopped to shoot you a big thumbs up, causing another wave of laughter through the group as they closed the door behind them.
Alone again, Manny looked down at you, dark stare taking in your disheveled appearance with a faint smirk. Sighing heavily, you sat up, shivering as the cold air hit your bare back, shoulders shrugging up to your ears.
“Fuck!” You chattered, catching the mischievous glint in Manny’s eyes, your brow knotting, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I mean,” he leaned towards you as if to whisper a secret, “we can do a lot in five minutes…”
You laughed abruptly at his insinuation, rolling your eyes as you leaned in as well, lips lingering just out of reach, “Shut up and put your clothes on.”
summary: you’re supposed to hate Manny — he’s cocky, loud, and impossible to ignore. but after one tense patrol and an unexpected kiss, you realize the line between annoyance and something deeper isn’t as clear as you thought.
a/n: hi y'all! i've been obsessed with danny lately and while watching the last tlou episodes i decided to write this. english is not my first language and this is based entirely on manny's character from the hbo series. enjoy <3
part two
You couldn’t stand Manny.
Everything about him – his cocky grin, the way he always had to get the last word, how he called you "cariño" even though he knew it pissed you off – made you want to punch him in the face.
Unfortunately, there was also no way you could avoid him.
Isaac kept pairing you two up on patrol. Said you made a good team and the results spoke for themselves. You hated that he was right.
“Morning, chiquita” Manny drawled as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, walking beside you. “You get up on the wrong side of your bunk again, or is that face just for me?”
You rolled your eyes. “Keep talking, Manny, and I’ll give you a reason to limp back to base.”
He whistled low. “Ay, qué fuego. I love when you threaten me.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you can’t stay away from me.”
You didn’t bother replying. He wasn’t wrong – but he also didn’t know that the reason you didn’t report his antics to Isaac was because… well, you kinda liked it. Definitely hated it. But also liked it.
He was annoying. Cocky. Obnoxiously attractive.
And worst of all? He knew exactly how to get under your skin.
You were back at the base two hours later, soaked and sore. You peeled off your jacket in the hallway, grumbling to yourself when you spotted Manny across the hall with Nora and a few others. He leaned in, laughing at something, and then glanced your way.
Of course he smirked. You rolled your eyes and kept walking until Mel waved you over.
“Hey, come join us! Manny was just saying how you nearly tripped over your own boots today.”
Your eyes narrowed, and Manny leaned back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Don’t worry, I caught her” he added, placing a hand dramatically over his heart.
“Oh, fuck off” you said as you dropped into a chair. “You shoved me into that mud puddle.”
“It was a gentle nudge.”
Nora cackled. “God, you two are like an old married couple.”
You and Manny answered at the same time.
“Gross.”
“Eventually, maybe.”
Your head whipped toward him, and Manny just winked.
You tried keeping your distance, but he was relentless.
Always showing up at your locker. “Need backup, hermosa?”
Always teasing on patrol. “You gonna shoot that infected or just glare it to death?”
Always brushing a little too close when he passed by.
Then you were on another mission together.
You were trying to focus on it. Really, you were.
But it was impossible with Manny's constant presence at your side, always in your space, always teasing, always brushing against you like he was trying to get under your skin.
The rain had stopped a few hours ago, leaving behind a thick, oppressive humidity that clung to everything. The quiet, unsettling feeling of being out here on patrol was only amplified by the tension between you and Manny.
You were in the territory of a few too many infected, and while you were both experienced, it was always better to be cautious. But despite the silence, you could feel his eyes on you.
And, for once, it wasn’t annoying. At least, not in the usual way.
You stole a glance at him as you adjusted your rifle, his eyes briefly meeting yours. He flashed that cocky grin of his, the one that made your stomach twist with annoyance and… something else. You quickly looked away, trying to push down the feeling.
“Something on your mind, cariño?” Manny’s voice cut through the silence, smooth and teasing, and it took everything you had not to sigh in frustration.
“Nothing you’d be interested in,” you muttered, keeping your eyes forward as you picked your way through the overgrown path.
“That's where you’re wrong,” Manny said, his voice light, but something in it made your heart stutter. “I’m always interested in what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the faintest blush that crept up your neck. “You’re annoying.”
“You keep saying that, cariño, but I think you like it," Manny’s voice was too close now, and when you turned your head, he was right only a few inches away.
His breath tickled your skin, and your pulse quickened. You couldn’t let this moment slip, not when everything you’d been trying to ignore was suddenly right in front of you.
“I really don’t. I can't stand you," you said, your voice a little shakier than you meant it to be.
“Then why are you not pushing me away?" Manny shot back, his eyes locked on yours.
You swallowed, unsure of what to say. His proximity was making everything in your mind go blank, and it was dangerous. You couldn’t let yourself get caught up in whatever this was.
But then the world seemed to stop for a moment when Manny’s hand brushed against cheek, just enough for you to feel the warmth of his touch. You inhaled sharply, but instead of pulling away, you lingered there, just for a moment longer than you intended.
And that’s when everything shifted.
The sudden quiet was heavy, and the way Manny looked at you was different from anything you’d seen before. His usual cocky grin had faded, replaced by something deeper, softer. His eyes searched yours, and for once, you didn’t feel like you needed to look away.
“I’ve been trying to figure you out for a while, you know that?” Manny said quietly, the teasing tone in his voice gone, replaced by something far more serious.
“You trying to get under my skin, Alvarez?” you replied, voice strained.
Manny chuckled, taking a step closer. “Trying to figure out why I can’t stop thinking about you,"
His words hit harder than you expected, the raw honesty in his voice disarming you. You felt your heartbeat accelerate, the air thick with something unspoken between you two.
You weren’t sure who made the first move, but suddenly, his lips were on yours.
The world around you seemed to disappear as you kissed him back, your hands instinctively reaching up to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. Manny’s hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
It felt like a breath you had been holding for far too long, and now that it had finally escaped, you couldn’t stop.
He pulled away for a moment, just enough to look at you, both breathless and dazed.
You swallowed hard, still trying to process the surge of emotions that coursed through you. The mix of anger, desire, frustration, and something else – far more complicated than you wanted to admit.
You wanted to say something sharp, something that would push him away.It was all too much, too fast, but you only stood there instead, heart hammering in your chest, as you realized one simple truth. You didn’t hate him. Not even close.
You didn’t say much for the rest of the patrol. The kiss hung between you like an electric current, and you both seemed to be avoiding it as best as you could.
Manny walked beside you as you went back, the two of you falling into an odd silence, but there was no denying that something had changed.
As you reached the gates of the base, Manny gave you one last look, his eyes soft and knowing.
