Colic
Colic: A Baby Fever Oneshot
Summary: You find Marcus by Rylee's crib in the middle of the night
Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!(Wife)Reader
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Fluff, angst, dedicated dad Marcus (swoon worthy)
Word Count: 900(ish)
Author's Note: Parenting can be rough sometimes, but they've got this
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It was the first thing you noticed besides how dark it still was outside: the spot beside you in your bed was empty.
Still drowsy from sleep, you swept a hand over it but couldn't tell how long it had been unoccupied by the temperature difference alone. It was too subtle, September still too warm to cool the ruffled bedsheets.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, but you knew it was your uncomfortably full bladder that had drawn you out of your slumber too early rather than the impending storm.
It was strange, being stirred by something other than Rylee's cries in the middle of the night. It had only been six weeks since her birth, but you'd become accustomed to it, as exhausting as it was.
Especially since her late night routine had become off kilter as of late, your poor daughter having turned into a victim of painful bouts of colic that Dr. Harrington couldn't explain. Or at least she couldn't find a specific reason, which was apparently common with infants.
Though she couldn't give you a reason or a solution, besides giving Rylee time to grow out of it, Dr. Harrington had assured you that it wouldn't have any long lasting affects on her, so at least there was that.
You sighed heavily and did your best to sneak out of bed to relieve yourself in the bathroom down the hall, before beginning a search for your missing husband.
You didn't have to look for long.
Your lips pulled up into a ghost of a smile and you shook your head when you found Marcus exactly where you'd suspected him to be, on the floor in Rylee's nursery. He was in nothing but his boxers, back pressed against the rails of the crib and chin tipped into his chest, obviously asleep.
It wasn't the first time that week that you'd found him beside her crib, trying to soothe her with his presence.
"Marcus," you called out from the doorway, volume no louder than a whisper.
He startled at the sound of his name and stared up at you with bleary eyes. "Oh, hey, what are you doing up?"
You leaned against the door frame on one shoulder. "I could ask you the same thing."
He rubbed at his face with the base of his palms and peered over at Rylee, who was still sound asleep in her crib, chest rising and falling peacefully. A sight for sore eyes.
He pushed himself off the ground, grimacing and clutching at the lower section of his back as he attempted to straighten up. He must've been on the ground for a long while if he was that sore, you thought.
"You're going to destroy your back if you keep sitting on the floor next to her crib like that," you warned him as he approached you.
"I'll keep that in mind," he responded, and you shook your head again, knowing full well that as long as Rylee wasn't feeling good he'd end up on the floor again and again anyway. He'd do anything for his little girl, that much was clear, even if that meant destroying his body to give her a little comfort. You loved him all the more for it, though you did wish he would at least sit in the rocking chair instead.
It was quite possible he was too tired for such rational thought.
"How long have you been up?" you inquired. "How did I miss her crying?"
Rylee's colicky cry was hard to miss, a wail of pain that broke your heart every time you heard it, and split your ears anytime you were even in the vicinity of her. You could've been physically knocked unconscious and you still would've woken up to it. Except that you hadn't this time, apparently.
"I had to take a piss and heard her starting to whimper on the way back from the bathroom," he explained. "What time is it?"
"A little past four in the morning," you said, remembering the glimpse of the red glowing numbers on the nightstand's old digital alarm clock you'd gotten on your way out of the master bedroom.
"I've been in here for around an hour then," he guessed.
"Was it the colic?"
He nodded somberly. "Yeah. I assume so. I was able to calm her down before she got loud, but she did sound uncomfortable and her diaper was clean."
You made a face at him, one twisted with the distaste of hearing about your baby being in any kind of distress. "This sucks."
"Yeah." Marcus turned to look towards the crib again, a disheartened expression forming on his face. "I wish I could do more for her."
"Me too," you said, reaching up to rub one of his bare upper arms. "But there's only so much we can do. And she'll be better off with parents who are awake enough to tend to her. Come back to bed. Next time she cries, I'll take a turn. It'll probably be because she's hungry anyway."
He hesitated for a moment, but your logic and his fatigue won out. He ran a hand through his sleep tussled hair. "Yeah. Okay."
Marcus trailed you back to your shared bed and you both rolled over onto your sides so you were facing each other.
"You're the best dad," you assured him.
"And you're the best mother," he declared, thumbing your cheek.
You smiled through the fog already creeping back over you, eyes at half mast. "Get more shut eye, honey."
You both fell asleep in record time.
xxx
Tagged: @amyispxnk @harriedandharassed
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Chiquita | Ch. 19
Chapter 18
“Ay, Nevada!” Mariana complained as she crossed the threshold of Nevada’s apartment. “Por favor, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
It’d been agonizing days of recovery at the hospital, but once Mariana had been able to swallow without discomfort and properly digest her food without regurgitating thanks to Ricky’s work and that of the breathing tube, they’d released her and her baby. Yet, the minute Nevada had heard of Mariana’s release, he’d become stricter than he ever had been before.
Nina, Sofía, and Jess had yet to see Mariana. It had been her wish to remain unseen by them and anyone who came looking for her. She had no say in whom saw her son, but according to Nevada, only Nina and Jessica had been the ones who’d kept the baby company whenever he wasn’t with Nevada and her.
Nevada had grown accustomed to not only doing almost everything for her in the duration of her hospital stay, but of making sure she was not over-straining herself when it came to their son, but as soon as the doctor had signed the discharge orders, Mariana had thrown caution to the wind and had done whatever she’d pleased in the coming hours before they’d settle everything with Matías’ doctors.
“Mari,” Nevada huffed. “Chica, por favor,” he begged, taking a step towards her as she limped towards the couch.
“I’ve been bedridden for two weeks, I’ve missed precious, precious time with our son, and all I want is to take a shower and then sit in the tub with Matías,” she smiled, taking a seat on the couch.
He smirked, sitting besides her, “¿Y yo?”
“Y, ¿tú qué?” she bit her lip, looking up at him with coquettish eyes.
“Am I invited to sit in the tub, too?” Mariana shook her head, leaning back against the couch’s back and adjusting Matías across her front. “Why not?” she shrugged with an impish smile, running her hand down the small expanse of Matías’ back. “Chiquita,” Nevada scoffed with a smile.
He looked up at her with his green smolder, relaxing his body in the flirtatious banter they’d set, and when her response didn’t come he leaned in for a kiss, only to find her tipping her chin and his lips landing next to her nose.
“Vada,” she said in a breathy whisper. “Papi, I want nothing more than to kiss you like I know you want to kiss me, but,” she sighed, looking up at Nevada through her lashes, “I feel disgusting.”
Nevada hummed, giving a slight nod. “Bueno,” he begun, “you go do that, and papito and I will stay here and… do some work, and when you’re ready for him, me gritas, and I’ll bring him in.”
Mariana nodded, allowing Nevada to take his son from her chest.
Initially, the nurses at the hospital had bundled him incredibly well, but in true Ramirez fashion, he’d become fussy and impatient and it hadn’t been until Nevada had loosened the swaddle that he’d calmed. Mariana had smiled at him, grateful that even after everything they’d been through, Nevada had found his true fatherly nature. He’d helped Mariana up to the SUV and had waited until she’d tied Matías in the car seat to order Miguel along.
The drive from Union City to the Heights had been one filled with silence and quiet mumbles from Nevada and Miguel. She could appreciate that the both were being mindful of her lack of sleep, but most importantly, the slumber of the newborn by her side.
She stared at Nevada and how careful he was with the baby. He’d leaned back, propped his feet on the coffee table, and allowed for the baby to continue his slumber upon his chest. As he scrolled through his cellphone, he tipped his chin, placing the tip of his nose to the crown of the baby’s head, and puckered his lips to press a kiss to his soft locks.
She sighed, smiling to Nevada’s profile. He’d fallen in love with his son and when in his arms, it was like the entire surroundings would disappear and he only lived to protect him.
She stood, glancing once more over her shoulder just to catch the sweetest moment she’d ever seen: Nevada humming a soft lullaby to his son. She slowly walked towards the en suite, forgetting to grab clean clothes. For a little over a month, she hadn’t known what a shower felt like, she could feel the excitement coursing through her just as she saw the steam fill the air around her. Mariana stepped in, toes curling against the ceramic floor.
The feel of the steamy water calmed her and she leaned into the sensation washing over her; taking her mind off of things. The water poured down her sides, sluicing off her bruised skin, and she sighed, enjoying the feeling of it on her body. She tipped her head back, allowing the water to coat her grown mane. It wasn’t until she ran her fingers through her scalp, feeling the stitching of the gash at the back of her head, that she realized the severity of everything that had happened to her in the last month and a half.
She’d lived with the monster that was Ricardo for a couple of years, and for three years she’d been able to avoid the horrible clutches of domestic abuse, but they’d still taken a toll on her mental state. Now, she had to think about her son. She would lean into Nevada and his support. She couldn’t allow herself to sink into the deep abyss that were the clutches of the human mind, she needed to be strong… for her son.
But, she also understood that in order to be strong for her son, she needed to be strong herself. She sighed, opening her eyes to stare at the bright ceiling of Nevada’s bathroom, bathing her skin, and taking notice of the bruises scattered on her skin. Every mark had a story and a reason for being on her body. If it wasn’t caused by hospital equipment, Ricky and his mean streak had caused it. She made sure to lather herself thoroughly, enjoying the suds and the feeling of being clean and taking time to brush her teeth.
The doctor had advised against washing her hair for the time being until the stitches had come off, but he’d allowed for her to wet it and apply product to the hair as opposed to the scalp. Once done with her shower, she’d wrapped herself in Nevada’s towel, filling the tub with hot water, essential oils, and oat milk soap for both the baby and her.
She was almost ready to call Nevada when he entered with a crying baby, startling Mariana in her quiet reverie. Nevada noticed and he grimaced, “Ay, mami…”
Mariana smiled, shaking her head, “No, don’t apologize.”
He sighed. “Someone’s ready to eat,” he said, bouncing the baby in his arms. “You almost done?” she nodded, walking towards him and placing a kiss to his lips.
Nevada hummed, smirking at her willingness. “Here, I’ll check on the water,” he handed the baby to Mariana, placing a kiss to his head as he did so.
“Ya, mi amor,” she soothed in a mellow voice. “Papi’s almost done with the water.”
Nevada hummed again; shaking his hand above the water he’d been testing, and nodded. He turned the faucet off, standing with a slight protest of his knees to find Mariana sitting on the toilet’s top lid with Matías waving his little arms and fists in the air, exercising his lungs in a powerful cry as she divested him of his onesie, socks, and diaper.
His skin sprouted in gooseflesh and Mariana giggled, coming to a stand, and expertly handling the crying baby as she divested herself of the towel surrounding her body. Nevada took a step forward, taking his son in his hands as Mariana stepped in and lowered herself in the tub. She hissed, hinting at the warmth of the water against her slightly cold skin.
“Too hot?” she shook her head.
She raised her arms, wiping her chest with the towel she’d just removed from her body just so that Matías could latch successfully. Nevada handed Matías to Mariana, and she cooed at him softly, watching as Matías shook his head to find his mother’s nipple and latch.
“Ya, corazón,” Mariana said with a smile, wetting his soft locks.
Minutes ticked on by before Nevada gathered his bravado. “How—How are you feeling?”
Mariana looked up from her son’s face, sighing softly as she gathered the baby against her chest to burp him. Matías’ head faced Nevada, and as Mariana patted his back in rapid succession, the baby nuzzled into his mother’s skin, keeping his eyes open. She ignored the question for the time being, listening to Matías’s soft coos and low-pitched contented sounds.
He burped, causing Nevada to chuckle. Mariana positioned him once more to suckle, scooping water with her hand to bathe the newborn.
“Chiquita…”
She nodded, turning her head, “Be honest with me. Do you want the real truth or some watered-down version of it?”
Nevada set his jaw, giving a quick glance to Matías and his movements. “I would hope you’d give me the real one,” he said evenly.
“I am happy,” she said with a nod, shifting in the water. “But, I am scared, too. I’m relieved to be here with you and our son, Nevada, but…” she sighed, feeling her chin tremble, “I almost—”
“No, no,” he quickly interrupted. “No, we’re not going to think that way, Mari. You’re here, you’re safe, and you have our son in your hands, mami. Don’t—Don’t allow that… motherfucker to steal this.”
“Vada—”
“Qué no, ¡coño! You’ve beat him before, you’re going to again.”
She hissed, glancing down at her son. She saw Nevada move and she shook her head, “I’m fine, just a little sore,” she tittered. “Where is he?”
“Chiquita—”
“Nevada,” she warned sternly. “What did you do?”
He couldn’t help his smirk and he shook his head. “Nada,” he bit his lip, looking up at Mariana. He wouldn’t bother her with what he had… or hadn’t done with Ricky. That was his problem now, and he would handle it as he saw fit.
She narrowed her eyes at him. She knew to expect pushback and for the time being, she’d allow it, but there needed to come a moment where she’d make sure to know what had happened with Ricky.
She focused on the way Nevada’s finger trailed her soapy skin and the look of utter love in his eyes. She’d made him a father and if being around him and Sofía was any indication of his devotion as a parent, she was most excited to see him be a father to their son.
At the hospital, she’d enjoyed time with her son, but everything had a time stamp. Matías could only be with her in her room for two hours before the NICU nurses came in wanting to take him away. His heart rate had improved exponentially, but they wanted to make sure that it was just a mild complication instead of a life altering one. The last thing she wanted was to prevent the medical staff from doing what they needed to do in order to ensure her son’s safety. Yet, she found herself yearning for him the second he was away, and it wasn’t until she threw a fit with Nevada that they finally moved her from the intensive care unit to a room in the maternity ward.
She’d avoided Nevada’s question. She’d been truthful to some extent, but she hadn’t told him about the nightmares and sleepless nights. Not because Matías wasn’t sleeping well, but because all she could see whenever she closed her eyes was the vivid memory of the container turned prison in the shipping yards. Whatever Nevada had done or was doing with Ricky, he deserved, and she hoped he’d suffer the same amount if not more than she had.
“I scheduled an appointment at the dentist tomorrow,” she said quietly, smiling at her newborn son.
Nevada sighed, clearly annoyed at what she’d said. “Mariana—”
“Nevada, what is your problem? Are you planning on keeping me cooped up in here?”
“Well… I just might. Papito cannot be going outside—el sereno me lo va a enfermar.”
Mariana rolled her eyes, “How long is that excuse going to last for?”
“Can’t the appointment wait another week, at least?” he bargained.
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m going tomorrow to the dentist.”
“Fine,” he surrendered, knowing he wouldn’t win this one. “Drop him off at the club—”
“Ha!” she shouted, allowing the outburst to turn into laughter as she adjusted her son on her chest. “That’s funny. In your fucking dreams. I already asked Jess to come with me.”
He hummed, ready to fuss at her once more. “What happened to ‘no quiero que nadie me vea’?” he faked mocked.
She shrugged. “At my discretion…” she smirked, side-eyeing him. “I’m swinging by Nina’s, too,” she saw as he got ready to protest and she beat him to the punch. “Don’t even. I’m going and that’s that.”
“Take Miguel.”
“No.”
He hung his head, what exactly was he paying for when God decided to put her in his path?
The debate had been that she did not want protection, but the second he’d forced her into it, she’d wanted Miguel. It’s how she’d end up with Dylan in the first place, but now that he was more than willing to surrender Miguel for her and her safety—their safety, she didn’t want him.
“No me mires así,” she softly offered. “You’re only offering Miguel because I was right all along and you’re feeling guilty. Do not pity me. From anyone else, sure, I’ll take it ‘cause they don’t know better, but I will not tolerate you treating me any different,” she brought her hand out of the water and pressed it to his beard, feeling the weight of his head against her palm. “I’ll be fine, I promise. And, if I need help or I’m feeling tired, I will personally call Miguel and guilt him into coming to my rescue,” she finished with a smile.
“Ay, Chiquita…” he sighed, looking into her eyes. “Fine, but just know I still have eyes everywhere.”
“Mari, look at him!” Jess fawned for the countless time since leaving the dentist’s appointment.
Now, they were walking side by side. Jess wore the baby and Mariana carried her new accessory turned purse: Matías’ diaper bag. They walked at a leisure pace down the block of Mariana’s dentist. In her mouth she still housed some cotton balls that she needed to take out as soon as she got to Nevada’s.
Mariana smiled at the genuine love she saw in Jess’ eyes. Her son had his head tipped back, his mouth open as he slept.
“Mouth breathers are the worst, Matty,” Jess tittered, bringing her thumb to Matías chin, pushing on his jaw until his mouth was closed and she heard him sigh through his nose. “Much better,” she placated, glancing at Mariana.
She’d felt Mariana’s eyes on her profile, but when she glanced at her walking companion, her eyes were fixed on every step they took. She watched Mariana, gauging how to further proceed when Mariana looked up.
“What?” she said, muffled.
“How are you feeling, Mari? The truth.”
Mariana sighed, shaking her head. “I’m happy,” Mariana admitted, swallowing around the cotton in her mouth. “I’m angry. I’m scared. I’m relieved…”
“Where’s that piece of shit, anyways?”
Mariana shrugged, “Nevada won’t tell me.”
Jessica hummed, but did not press the issue. She knew better than to even think about questioning Nevada’s choices. Mariana was the only one that got away with it, and that was because she was not scared of Nevada. She didn’t fear the repercussions, but everyone else did.
“You know,” Mariana continued, breaking the tense silence between them, “there were days where I would wake up in the hospital and my first thought was of Ricky. If he was alive or dead, and if he was alive, what were his injuries? Was he in the same hospital as I was? Were the police with him? What had Nevada done to him after I loss consciousness. Had he killed Ricky? Had Miguel? If Ricky was dead, then what happened to his body? Had the news covered the story?” she paused, reaching into her mouth to remove the cotton tucked between her cheeks. She made a tasteless sound, bringing the back of her free hand to her mouth before Jess scolded her.
“Don’t!”
“Why?” Mariana looked at Jess with teary eyes. “Why do I care about him?”
Jess frowned, sifting through her words in order to properly formulate her response.
There were several people in the world that could render Jess speechless, Mariana being one of them. She looked away, too much pain in Mariana’s eyes made her uneasy. She couldn’t lie to her if she looked at her, she couldn’t properly comfort Mariana either if she knew there would be a rebuttal.
“Mari,” Jess sighed, shaking her head and closing her eyes at Mariana’s soft whimper. She could feel her chin begin to tremble and she cleared her throat, distracting herself from the emotions… from the truth.
“I still love him, don’t I?”
“Mari…”
“Stop… saying my name!” she came to a stop, disentangling her arm from Jess’.
“I—”
“Just… give me my kid,” she grumbled, tugging at the knot that held the fabric in place at Jess’ natural waist. Jess went to protest, but Mariana already had Matías in her arms, tugging at the fabric with her free hand as she made a quick getaway.
Jessica stood rooted to her spot. She’d literally said nothing to Mariana, nothing to upset her to such extent.
She understood that Mariana needed time. Time to heal and come to understand that Ricky was not a threat any longer. Regardless of what Nevada had or hadn’t done to him. Mariana was safe now. Matías was safe. But, Jess could see that inner turmoil in her eyes. It’d been the same way when she’d started at the school almost four years back. Mariana needed time, more than before, because now she was caring for her child, who needed her more than anything.
Jess watched Mariana power walk down the sidewalk, the fabric of the wrap caught in the wind behind her like a superhero’s cape. She didn’t follow her, she allowed her her space. Jess just hoped she’d remain safe.
Matías had barely stirred with the jostle of the transfer, and Mariana had ducked into one of those fancy Midtown coffee shops and into their restroom in order to both change Matías’ diaper and redo the wrap around her body. The whole thing had taken ten minutes, and she hadn’t left without purchasing some herbal tea to soothe her still aching throat and out of whack nerves.
The afternoon wind picked up, making her shiver, so she pulled the edge of the wrap over her son’s head, patting at his back with each of her steps.
It was no secret that she’d been on edge. Even before leaving the hospital. She tossed and turned all night, even when laying next to Nevada. His hold on her strong and his slumber even stronger. He only ever stirred when he heard Matías coo from his bassinet at Mariana’s side. The entire Ricky ordeal she’d thought to have compartmentalized well, but it’d been proven wrong. Even now, she counted her steps, and her ears were perked up for any unwanted sound behind her. Her instincts had sharpened, and she hated the way she could feel her shoulders on her neck.
Her bottom vibrated, pulling her thoughts to the now. She glanced at the sleeping face of her son, partially covered by the wrap over his head, and she smiled, glancing down the street to see if she could at least place her surroundings. She’d walked a little over five blocks from where she’d left Jess rooted to her spot, a sense of guilt now washing over her. She lashed out for no reason. She lashed out, for what?
Jessica had been nothing but supportive and she went and got mad at her because she didn’t cosign Mariana’s thoughts and feelings? Or, was it been deeper than that?
Was Jess’ silence and apprehension a confirmation of her deepest thoughts and feelings or was it something else completely? She’d opened up to Jess, at her request, let her in to Mariana’s deepest thoughts as of late, and she received nothing but silence from whom she called her best friend.
She felt her bottom vibrate again and she reached around to fish it out of her back pocket. She’d a few missed calls and texts from Jess, and a dozen more notifications, all from Nevada. She rolled her head, taking a careful sip of her herbal tea when her phone vibrated furiously in her hand: an incoming call from Nevada.
She answered, “Nevada.”
“Mariana, what the fuck is your problem?”
Mariana smacked her teeth, ending the call promptly. If Nevada wanted to argue, then he would do so by himself. She hadn’t the energy to do so at the moment. Instead, she typed a quick message to Miguel with her location and a warning. She’d stumbled upon an empty Paley Park, and she sat near the waterwall, entranced and lulled by its soothing sound.
She’d no knowledge how long she sat there, but when Miguel found her, she was in the middle of breastfeeding Matías.
“Señito,” Miguel interrupted softly, causing Mariana to startle. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, not approaching Mariana further. Mariana waved him off, moving the baby’s diaper bag so that Miguel could sit in the chair closest to her. As Miguel sat, he said, “Takes after Nevada, then? Always eating!”
Mariana shared a chuckle with him. She sighed, leaning back, “I had to turn off my phone.”
“Señito, el jefe…” Miguel sighed, not knowing how to proceed. “El jefe didn’t take well your disappearance. When you weren’t answering, he lost it.”
“I know, Miguel. I know,” Mariana nodded, turning to acknowledge Nevada’s Tiburón. “I’m struggling, too, and him treating me like spun glass isn’t helping.”
Miguel glanced down at his lap, bringing his phone up to show Mariana whose name lit up the screen, “Can I?”
Mariana smirked, “I’m not your boss, he is.”
“We all know that’s not true,” Miguel chuckled, answering when Mariana gave him a nod. Mariana could hear Nevada yelling and cussing at Miguel over his whereabouts and Mariana’s alike.
Mariana extended her arm, feeling Matty unlatch. She accommodated her bra and lowered her shirt, handing the baby over to Miguel. Miguel’s mouth worked overtime, opening and closing as Mariana giggled over the man’s fumbling.
“Here, drape him over your shoulder like this,” Mariana coached, accommodating Matty on Miguel’s shoulder for him to burp the baby. “And, hold his butt—yes!” she continued, having heard Nevada’s silence on the other side of the line. “Now, burp him. You’re not hurting him, I promise,” Mariana smiled and watched as Miguel patted the baby’s back.
“Mari,” she heard Nevada calling for her through the phone. It sounded far away, but loud enough that both her and Miguel glanced at the phone now atop the table between them. “Chica, Mari!” he protested again.
She picked up the phone, “Nevada.”
“Why’d you hung up on me? Where are you?”
“I can always hang up again,” she simply reminded. He was yelling, and he sighed heavily, no doubt tampering his anger before speaking again. “Now, start over.”
Nevada cleared his throat, rubbing at his brow from behind his desk. This was all too reminiscent. Too close to what had happened, not that while back. He hated not having easy contact with her. He hated that she’d turned off her phone without a regard for her safety and that of their son. If it were up to him, she’d never leave the safe confines of his home, but he knew better than to push her. She’d already been trapped, he wouldn’t do that to her again. Not to his Chiquita.
“Chiquita,” he restrained himself, knowing that lashing out would get him complete silence. “Dile a Miguel que te traiga. And, I don’t want to hear any more protesting from you. Is that clear?”
Mariana smirked, watching Miguel burp the newborn baby. Mariana giggled when Matías burped, surprising the burly man.
“Mari?”
Mariana rolled her eyes, “Ya.”
“Dile a Miguel—”
Mariana groaned, “Miguel, could you take us to Nevada?” Miguel nodded with a smile, his hand still patting at Matty’s back. They stood, Mariana making sure she’d everything she needed. “Could we stop for food, first?”
Nevada smacked his teeth audibly, “Mari!”
The protest quickly died when Mariana pressed the end call button on the screen, following Miguel with a giggle on her lips. She lived to aggravate Nevada. His sole existence aggravated the world, so a little taste of his own medicine would do him good, and hopefully he’d learn to trust her instincts.
Mariana could hear muffled shouts as she reached the upstairs area of Nevada’s club. She slowed her pace, running her hands down her son’s back.
They rode in the back of Nevada’s SUV without a car seat in sight. Miguel had taken speed limits seriously and dared not travel a mile over them for the sake of him and the lives of the precious cargo he transported.
Mariana took a step back as Miguel passed her by, an arm extended behind him as he approached the Nevada’s office door. Miguel knocked twice, pushing the door open and peaking his head in. There was some muffled exchange and Miguel shut the door, grimacing towards Mariana’s general direction.
Mariana shook her head, glancing down at the wide awake expression of her newborn. “Tu papá is something else, Matías,” she chuckled. “Diosito, dime que va a salir a mí…”
Nevada strolled out, coolly approaching Mariana. He smirked, placing an unlit cigarette over his ear. “Chiquita,” he sighed, taking her in. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers forcefully.
Mariana hummed at the familiar taste that was Nevada. He hadn’t been smoking, but he’d been drinking, she could taste his private selection on his lips. She pulled back, licking her lips to savor Nevada on her lips. She smiled, feeling the tension of the day roll off her shoulders. She smiled at him, bringing her thumb to swipe underneath Nevada’s lip, and he puckered his mouth into the pad of her thumb before it was completely away.
“With our luck, he’ll be like the both of us, and really drive me insane,” he said between them, tucking his chin to press his lips against Matías’ soft hairs.
Mariana snickered. “Pucho in there?” Nevada nodded. “Did you bring me here to have me stand or is your… mess not quite clean yet?”
Nevada sighed, clenching his jaw to keep his temper at bay. He stared at her, smolder against smolder. “Miguel.”
Mariana glanced past Nevada’s shoulder, watching Miguel move and peak inside the door. Nevada had busied himself with his son, cooing at him softly. When Miguel straightened and cleared his throat, Nevada took a step to her side, allowing her to walk in first. He ogled her as she walked in front of him, smirking at the pretty sway of her hips and the fill of her ass in her jeans.
She was working on divesting herself from the taut fabric around her body, keeping a protective arm around her son’s back. She greeted Pucho with excitement, easing Matías out of the wrap. Pucho fawned over the baby and kissed Mariana’s cheek, just below the healing bruise near her cheek. Nevada moved about his office, propping some cushions at the end of the couch just as he sat.
Nevada whistled, creating a double eye-roll from both Pucho and Mariana. Mariana approached him, handing him his son. Nevada smiled, pressing his lips to Matías’ brow. Nevada turned his head, stealing a kiss from the brown-skinned beauty next to him, feeling the smile spread across her lips. He hummed noncommittally with a jut of his chin towards the end of the couch where he’d propped some cushions.
Mariana yawned, leaning back against the cushions, and bringing her feet to Nevada’s lap. In one arm he safely held his son, while his other busied itself with untying and slipping Mariana’s shoes off.
She glanced at Nevada and Matías, both involved in themselves as Miguel and Pucho mumbled something about numbers, lulling her to sleep.
tags: @bananas-pajamas @scarletsoldierrr @imjustreallynosy @katierpblogg @angelicdestieldemon
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