One of Us

by onlywordsnow

Summary:

A lot can happen in almost 3 years.

That was when Cruz took the fall for Josie. She did it for 2 reasons: 1, because she knew it would please Pablo and 2, because she could never watch anything happen to Josie. After 3 years of looking at Josie through a window, Cruz is released. She struggles to find her place in her relationship and the club she sacrificed for.

After Pablo dies, Josie becomes the President of Los Tigres MC. She fought like hell to hold the club, and her family, together. Only one thing was missing - the woman she loves by her side. Despite the judgement and prying eyes of club members, Josie protects Cruz above all else.

A slow reveal to the rest of the world in regards to where their loyalties lie.

Notes:

I'm writing this really slowly, but I hope to release a chapter every week. I've been trying for years to write a Sons of Anarchy AU and it just never fit, not like this. I plan on writing this one, then a few more for this series. But we all know how I am. Your support will keep me focused. Let me know how you feel about this...(I kind of love it!)

Chapter 1: Home With Me

Summary:

Cruz POV

After nearly 3 years in prison, Cruz doesn't know how she's supposed to readjust to life outside. Even more than that, she doesn't know how she fits in the life she was once part of. If there's any way that she can figure that out, Cruz knows that the only way she will is with Josie by her side.

Cruz's first step into the night air, cool and light against her bare arms, makes her skin crawl. After years of not seeing the woman, for nearly 3 years, her heartbeat stays surprisingly steady. Especially since she's spent all of that time fighting just to see her again.

Her wife leans back against the seat of the motorcycle, leather jacket unzipped to reveal a black tank top. Cruz stares, becoming familiar with Josie sitting under the glow of the street lamp. She's surprised when her heart manages to work properly in her chest and, for just a moment, Cruz thinks that could be a bad sign.

"Hey, gorgeous," Josie murmurs as she pushes off of the bike.

That does it - her heart thunders in her chest.

Cruz has always been good at containing her emotions. Hardened from losing her mom at 16. Guarded from running away from Edgar at full speed. Cruz ran directly into the bike shop where Josie Carrillo had been working on a motorcycle, hand grasping a wrench, and eyebrow arched. Silently, the stranger had challenged Edgar. Cruz hadn't known then just how important Josie would become to her.

Cruz's eyes rake over Josie's body all of the way down to her boots, and right back up to settle on those familiar lips. It quirks up into a smile, like Josie can still read her mind. That's how connected they were 3 years ago.

"Did I leave you speechless?" Josie asks. Cruz comes to a stop directly in front of the woman and tilts her head to the side. Their eye contact doesn't last long before Josie's pulling her gaze away, twisting back behind her. Josie turns back to her with leather jacket in hand, offering it up to her. "Kept it safe for you."

"Thanks," Cruz musters, taking the jacket.

"You gonna kiss me, or what?" Josie says.

That's pretty much all Cruz has been thinking about for the last 1,000 days. She leans down, eyes drifting closed, and lightly presses her lips against Josie's. Warm lips part beneath hers, expectant and feverish. Whatever fears Cruz had before stepping out of that concrete building slowly push to the back of her mind. Josie sucks on her bottom lip, urging her on in a way that Cruz had almost forgotten she could feel.

Nearly three years ago, Cruz had turned herself in to keep Josie safe. Everything she's done since the moment she stepped foot in that motorcycle shop has been to protect Josie. It had come with some deep encouragement from Pablo, assigning her the role of shadow for Josie to play the role of her asset, and she had taken that seriously.

The kiss quickly deepens. Josie's hands slide from her waist to her shoulders, slowly curling around the back of her neck. Cruz's hair is shorter now - down to her shoulders instead of halfway down her back and always in a bun. Josie really doesn’t hesitate to run her fingers through it.

That only encourages Cruz more. She flicks her tongue into Josie’s mouth, remembering the woman’s taste. She licks deep, running the tip of her tongue across Josie’s all as her heart swells in her chest. She never forgot how much she loves this woman; all she could do is bury it.

Josie pulls back, gasping yet reluctant, and says, “Come home with me?”

“Yes, of course,” Cruz says quickly.

She pulls on her jacket before climbing onto the bike behind Josie who starts it up. The engine purrs to life, vibrating beneath them, and takes off once warm enough.

It’s nearly half an hour before the bike is parked in front of the house. Each of her heavy steps echoes from her boots as she follows Josie up the steps. Cruz keeps each breath measured even as Josie turns on the kitchen light. It’s still dim, but it highlights Josie’s features and that’s all she needs.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Josie asks, pulling her jacket off.

“Like what?” Cruz says.

“Like you missed me or something,” Josie teases.

“Cause I did,” Cruz answers.

She finally releases a deep breath, an all-consuming sort of thing that practically pulls all of her nerves out of her. Their eyes connect for a breath. Then two. On the third, they step towards each other.

Josie’s hands push at her jacket at the same times that Cruz cups the woman’s jaw. Their lips are already parted when they meet, and they’re kissing deeply. It isn’t slow, but it is familiar. It’s tongues on teeth, teeth on lips, and lips searching for memories neither of them ever want to forget.

Cruz only pulls her hands away long enough for Josie to push her jacket down her arms. The material hits the ground with a thud. Almost instantly, she backs Josie into the kitchen table and grasps for the woman’s hips. Cruz tugs their bodies flush, kissing her wife with everything she has in her.

Josie sighs against her lips, slowly tilting her head back to catch her breath. Cruz looks down at Josie, studying her parted lips and lidded gaze, all while her fingers hook into belt loops of the woman’s jeans. Palms glide over her arms until Josie’s grasping her wrists, tugging her in the direction of the bedroom.

The moment they cross the threshold, Josie’s pulls her shirt off over her head and tosses it across the room. Josie pulls Cruz backwards after that, wordlessly encouraging Cruz to follow her lead as Josie lays back on the mattress. They’ve been very good at talking, but they’ve always been really good at this - understanding each other, calling in sync. So Cruz presses her knee against the mattress between Josie’s parted thighs and lowers herself.

Except she pauses there to look down at the woman, spread across the sheets with long and windblown hair pooling beneath her head. The moon is big and bright, shining through the window and highlighting Josie’s features. Cruz observes and studies, memorizing the way Josie looks like everything she’d imagined an angel to look.

Cruz goes to cup Josie’s jaw but her eyes catch on the metal at the space between the woman’s collarbones. She reaches for it, fingers looping into the little circles of hot metal. Cruz reveres them, sliding her thumb over the smoothness of them.

“I kept them,” Josie says, words floating through the night, “Kept yours, close to my chest.”

“You did,” Cruz says softly.

She grasps the chain that the pair of rings hang off of, tugging it upwards until their lips meet again. Cruz’s hands hit the mattress, supporting her weight, giving her better access to kiss Josie’s neck and shoulders. When Josie’s nails claw at her shirt, pulling it desperately, Cruz shivers.

When Josie’s thrown her piece of clothing somewhere, Cruz feels a strong hand find her wrist again. Josie immediately tugs Cruz’s hand to the front of her jeans. The other woman unbuttons her own jeans, pushing the zipper down, giving more room. Cruz takes the order, push her fingers beneath the band of Josie’s underwear too. The moment she feels a wet heat, Josie arches up into her hand.

Cruz’s fingers sink into Josie’s wet folds, stroking into the woman’s entrance. The kiss is messy, more breath than tongue. But Jose’s hips stutter against her hand until she’s coming all over Cruz’s fingers. They breathe like that, the seconds ticking away between them, totally synchronized within a matter of nines.

Josie’s hands move to the back of her neck, pulling her down for another deep kiss. The woman’s tongue licks into Cruz’s mouth, and Josie tastes like the open road. Cruz just melts into her, letting Josie take the lead and flip them so her back is pressed into the mattress.

They move together, becoming reacquainted with the love that lives between them, entwining their lives together.

The room is silent afterwards, the darkness a little suffocating. Cruz climbs out of bed, careful so she doesn’t disturb the sleeping woman beside her. She finds a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, pulling them on before making her way through the house.

It’s familiar, and yet it feels so strange. She checks everything just to note what’s changed. There are a few new pictures up that weren’t there before, but the cups are where they always were. The furniture is still in the same place. The mugs are all still the same.

She fills a glass with water and sips from it beneath the glow of the moon coming in through the kitchen window.

Everything in this house remains the same, except for her. She is different. Prison has hardened her, closed her off from the outside world. Although she still feels love and a deep attraction for her wife, there’s still a distance between them. She knows that Josie is different too.

Cruz is thinking too hard under the light above the stove. She’s startled when Josie enters, wearing a shirt that belongs in Cruz’s side of the closet. Cruz just stares and blinks for a moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Then: “What are you doing awake?”

“Waiting for you,” Josie answers, eyelids heavy with sleep, “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” Cruz breathes evenly, gaze still lingering on Josie.

She takes in the vision before her, memorizing even defined muscle in Josie’s thighs. Finally, she swallows a thick lump gathering in her throat. Josie’s hands curl around the hem of her shirt, pulling lightly.

“You’re never not thinking,” Josie says softly, voice practically a hum, “What is it?”

Cruz sucks in a deep breath and shifts her gaze to the floor. “You,” Cruz says, “You waited for me.”

“You’re worth it,” Josie replies. There’s a silence that hangs in the air. All Cruz hears is the sound of Josie shifting, pulling the chain off of her neck. Each breath Josie takes is measured. “I told you that when I married you.”

“Secretly married,” she reminds Josie, a smile tugging at her mouth but never coming to fruition, “Five years ago.”

“I didn’t forget,” Josie says, “It’s still the best decision that I ever made.”

“Mine too,” Cruz says softly.

Josie pulls her back to bed. It scares her how easy it is for them to fall back into this like no time has passed at all. It’s been 3 hours overshadowing almost 3 years, but she isn’t sure it’ll last. Maybe Cruz is too cynical. The truth is, she spent all of that time thinking about their commitment.

They settle under the blanket. The sheets are softer, like a higher thread count comes with being on top. Josie scoots close, hand spreading across her waist and grounding her almost like Josie used to. Cruz moves her arm at the same time that Josie lifts her head, letting the woman settle on her shoulder.

“I missed you, too, you know,” Josie murmurs into her shoulder, “I’ve felt like a part of me is missing.”

Cruz shifts a little, a heat rising into her throat, even as she finds Josie’s hand in her stomach. The way their fingers entwine is easy. Cruz almost forgot what it felt like to be home, to be safe.

“You have?” Cruz asks, throat straining.

Josie’s legs tangle with hers, foot sliding down the side of her leg until it stops at Cruz’s angle bone. She lets her eyes drift closed for just a second, falling into a security that she hasn’t really had. The only time she’s ever known security or safety is when she’s with Josie in the quiet anyway.

“You’re the best part of me, baby,” Josie says against her jaw, pressing a fleeting kiss there, “You know that.”

Josie’s told her that before, many times, Cruz just has a hard time believing it. She’s changed, hardened. Even though she loves Josie more than life itself, Cruz doesn’t know if she can slip back into a version of herself that isn’t always watching her back.

She swallows thickly, still not answering. The words are stuck in her throat. All that Cruz can think about is how they’ve both changed drastically. They have parts carved into them that they’re yet to discover. They aren’t in their early twenties, reckless and leaving wreckage. Josie is the club president and Cruz is just…a prisoner freshly released.

“Am I?” Cruz finally asks.

Josie’s fingers dig into her ribs, palm soft against her stomach. The woman, in all of her glory and strength, shifts against her. Josie’s thigh flexes against Cruz’s as it overtakes hers, and it slowly occurs to her that the woman is holding her down just to keep her in place - to keep her from running.

“Yes,” Josie breathes, nails scratching against Cruz’s ribcage as her wife presses warm lips against the underside of her jaw, “We’re going to figure it all out. I promise.”

“And you don’t make promises,” Cruz softly agrees.

“Not ones that I don’t intend on keeping,” Josie says.

“You think we’re gonna be ok?” Cruz murmurs, flattening her hand against Josie’s spine.

“I’m sure of it,” Josie says, pressing a fleeting kiss to her neck, “If it’s the last fucking thing I do.”

Cruz retreats into her own mind for a moment, wondering if she’s imagining all of this. She always assumed that, even though she took the fall for Josie, there’s no way that the woman would wait for her. If her mind isn’t playing tricks on her and this is real, then it has to be only because they’re married.

Josie’s fingers absently trace the tattoo at her side through the sleeveless t-shirt. The woman can’t see it, but Josie knows what it looks like. She was there when Cruz got it, held her hand even though it didn’t hurt like that. Looking back, it was an excuse to hold her hand when Josie never had before.

“You asleep?” Josie whispers after a few minutes.

Cruz shakes her head first. She shifts her gaze next, finding the shine in Josie’s eyes. They reflect the light pouring in and casting a glow around them.

“It doesn’t feel real,” Cruz admits.

Josie’s hand stills at Cruz’s ribcage, but eyes never leave her. The gentle way that Josie moves after that sends a shiver through her. The woman’s hand touches her jaw, thumb sweeping along the sharpness of the bone, before leaning down and pressing a gentle, lony kiss against her mouth.

“How can I make it real to you, baby?” Josie breathes into her skin, lips dragging across her cheek.

“I don’t know,” Cruz answers, voice deep and hollow.

“What do you want?” Josie asks so softly that the sound feels like a lullaby, “What will bring you back to me?”

After a moment of breathing, of thinking, of drowning in her sacrifice, Cruz turns. She slides down the bed and buries her face in Josie’s neck. Inhaling the woman’s scent, Cruz realizes that it’s still familiar. The smell is a bite of bergamot, warm of oil, dusted with leather and, beneath it all, is the base of smoke-kissed honey. It all smells like home.

Just the smell of Josie brings her heart down to a calm, staccato beat. Gentle hands slide over her back, soothing her in a way that she hasn’t been soothed in years. Cruz thinks of the days when they felt safe only with each other, and she lets the muscles in her shoulders release their tension.

She’s home and she’s safe, right here in Josie’s arms.

Chapter 2: Us Versus Everything

Summary:

Josie POV

It's the morning after Cruz was released and Josie has to attend to business when she'd rather just stay in bed (or anywhere) with Cruz all day. Cruz tries to wrap her head around life now, and wonders where exactly she fits. The two of them have a conversation, one of reassurance, and filled with the things they didn't say the night before.

Josie wakes up full for the first time in years with the woman she loves in her arms. Cruz’s body is firm, muscular; as it always has been. But more so now - thicker with muscle, hardened and chiseled, cut like a god, but still fitting in her arms. They’re so completely entwined that Josie isn’t even sure that she can move without waking Cruz up.

So, she decides not to be extra careful. Josie simply slides her palm across Cruz’s back and presses a kiss to the woman’s hairline. She takes in 2 deep breaths through her nose before she disentangles her legs from Cruz’s and slips out of the bed.

The bed squeaks as she moves. Josie holds her breath as she looks over her shoulder, only breathing again when she watches Cruz’s hand slide across the sheets but her eyes never open. Josie’s heart swoops in her chest at the sight of Cruz, of her wife, of her greatest love, existing in this space again.

Josie forces herself to move. She takes a quick shower and checks in on Cruz just to be sure she’s still sleeping. Cruz looks a lot less peaceful than she did just 10 minutes ago. Josie gets dressed - boots, dark jeans, a sleeveless black shirt - and leans against the doorframe.

She folds her arms over her chest and just watches Cruz sleep.

It’s almost unbelievable that Cruz is here now. The woman is more guarded, slowly peeling away the layers she built in a place Josie couldn’t touch her. It was difficult to lay her eyes on Cruz, too, only getting to see her wife when she had sneaked away from the rest of the club which was rare. It became even more difficult when she became the President after her father died. They went almost a full year without seeing each other, barely exchanging letters.

Still, that woman is the owner of her heart. It could never belong to anyone else. Even if she were to want it to. Which…Josie can’t imagine anyone else having it.

After a few minutes, Josie pushes off of the doorframe and advances into the bedroom. The path is clear except for their clothes from the night before crumpled on the floor. She steps over them and kneels to the floor at the side of the bed. It takes her a moment, gathering her bearings and thinking about what Cruz said last night - it doesn’t feel real - and she soaks in the moment.

Josie lifts a hand to Cruz’s temple and brushes the strands of black hair behind the woman’s ear. Cruz shifts slowly, eyes blinking open. The brown eyes aren’t as hollow. They have a bit of a sparkle in them that brings a smile to Josie’s face.

“I gotta go, baby,” Josie murmurs. She keeps her fingers at Cruz’s hairline, eyes moving around the woman’s face in the daylight now. Cruz’s jaw is sharper than ever before. She meets Cruz’s tired eyes again before leans forward to press a warm kiss to her wife’s mouth. “Club meeting.”

“Ok,” Cruz says with a sigh.

Josie’s reluctant to step away. The truth is, they’re in the middle of a transport deal that’s in the verge of falling through. If they weren’t, she wouldn’t be leaving Cruz’s side.

“I’ll bring you some coffee after,” Josie says.

“Sure,” Cruz mumbles.

“You still like it clean?” Josie asks softly.

“I don’t know,” Cruz says softly. Josie watches as Cruz scoots up, leaning back against the wall. The woman drags a tired hand through her hair, tilting her gaze away. “Haven’t had it for a bit.”

“Now that you’re back,” Josie starts, gently, quietly, “I’m gonna make sure you get all of your favorite things.”

“You?” Cruz breathes.

“Yeah, baby,” Josie agrees, firm and steady, “You have me. Forever and always.”

Cruz’s breath hitches. It would be unnoticeable to anyone else, but Josie knows Cruz like no one else does. She knows the way that Cruz breathes, the way that she smiles, the way that she laughs. Josie hasn’t seen Cruz relaxed yet, but it’s only been 8 hours since she brought Cruz back home.

“Alright,” Cruz murmurs, lips tugging slightly upward.

Josie cups Cruz’s jaw, silently guiding the woman’s face to look at her. Their eyes connect and, though neither of them are speaking, Josie feels like it’s speaking volumes. She leans forward to press a long kiss to Cruz’s mouth, letting her eyes drift closed. Josie kisses her wife for longer than she probably should, only pulling back once she nips at Cruz’s bottom lip.

“You can drop in if you want,” Josie says as she steps back.

“I’m good,” Cruz says, “For today.”

Josie swallows instead of pouting, trying to hold in that ounce of vulnerability she’s worked so hard to stave off. Even though there’s reluctance to leave Cruz, Josie powers through. She doesn’t linger in the doorway having already given herself a few minutes to watch her wife sleeping. She doesn’t glance at Cruz over her shoulder, knowing that she wants nothing more than to be with the other woman. She just closes the door behind her as she leaves.

Beneath their one-bedroom apartment is a garage where Cruz, Josie, and Pablo’s motorcycles are stored. Her truck is also in there, a 1972 Chevy C10 Fleetside, dark grey with black trim. There’s a wide alley that can acclimate 2 vehicles between the apartment and the shop. The shop works in classic vehicles, restoring them, but mostly builds bikes from the ground up now.

Josie makes her way through the shop area, stepping around some of the club’s prospects and lower level members, so she can climb the stairs. Upstairs, there’s a pool table in a common area, a bathroom, a conference room with a large table in the center, and her office. This office used to belong to her father, and she hasn’t changed it much.

This office has floor to ceiling windows over the shop, but the view to outside isn’t as good with only a 4-foot by 6-foot window behind the desk. The office stays locked unless she’s in there. When her father did some window replacements, he made all of the windows in the office bulletproof. There are only 6 people who knows that - herself, her sisters, her mother, and Cruz.

Since Pablo died, Josie has spent a lot of time thinking about the way he quickly took Cruz under his wing. Cruz ran into this building to get away from an abusive boyfriend, but she ran into a family that welcomed her with open arms. Pablo had carved Cruz to be the perfect shadow, training her in blades and guns, vehicle restoration as well as building the perfect motorcycles with the more thorough engines, and how to protect Josie.

He didn’t know then, and he will never know now that he’s dead, that he threw them together until they fell deeply in love.

The truth is…nobody knows about their marriage, about their relationship, except for them. At first, it was because Pablo hated anyone and everyone that Josie looked at a certain way. Not to mention that there was something so electrifying about them having a secret. Then it evolved into the likelihood that he would no longer send them on missions alone together. The ultimate reason ended up being that Cruz went away to protect her and she knew that it would just complicate everything.

Her father had a way of making her feel so powerful, so self-sufficient, and so capable. On the flip side, he believed that she didn’t need ties to anyone. He expected Josie to be a lone wolf, someone who couldn’t get her heart broken because she would never let anyone get close enough, but also so that she could never be taken advantage of. He wanted her to be strong and selective.

Of course she hadn’t exactly chosen Cruz to fall in love with. She really didn’t have a choice. Pablo put them in a room together and Cruz’s silence intrigued her. More than that, Josie saw a struggle behind Cruz’s eyes that she found utterly fascinating - only, when Josie got to know Cruz, she suddenly wanted to offer the woman protection and safety. Not unlike what, as it turned out, Cruz was giving her.

When Cruz went behind bars, Pablo was smart enough to leave Josie alone. He didn’t hand pick anyone else to be Josie’s shadow. He respected the sanctity of what she had with Cruz. So, despite her never actually telling him, she thinks that he probably knew. Josie just never confirmed that he was right, and she never said she had married Cruz either.

Josie sits at the head of the conference room as the Council floods in. She mostly listens this time, letting Tucker, Tex, and Two Cups bicker across the table. Josie has too much on her mind - thinking about Cruz and how they have to find their rhythm now.

“Thunder?” Bobby says after a couple of minutes, “Anything to add?”

“Yeah,” Josie says. She leans forward in her chair and scuffs her boot on the leg of the table. Josie looks at her trusted, the top members of this council - Bobby, Randy, Tex, Tucker, and Two Cups. “I picked up Cruz last night.”

“No shit,” Bobby says, mouth turning upwards.

“She’s home now,” Josie says, knuckles tight as they tap on the table, “A lot of the newbies are going to question her presence, but you’ll know. We’ll have her back.”

“Is she…” Tucker trails off, not even close to asking his question.

“Ok,” Josie interjects, “She’s ok.”

“Anything she needs,” Randy says.

“I’ve got it handled,” Josie replies, “I’ll tell her though.”

It’s almost an hour after the meeting started that Josie puts down the gavel. She immediately goes to her office and brews the good coffee rather than the garbage downstairs. As it starts, she goes over to her desk and opens a drawer. Tucked inside, is a picture of her and Cruz. Not that her wife takes all that many pictures.

With the steaming liquid ready, Josie pours coffee into a tall mug she has nearby. She blows on the top of it before taking a sip. It’s bitter, but better than the alternative. She taps one of her rings against the rim of the mug, not for the first time asking herself why she doesn’t just wear one of those wedding bands.

Josie sighs and turns out if her office. She’s careful as she descends the stairs with the mug. She doesn’t even pause to take one more sip before exiting the shop to head back to the apartment, but Josie doesn’t get that far. She quirks an eyebrow because one of the garage doors, a roller one painted white, is pushed up and the light is on.

Peeking her head inside, she spots Cruz kneeling on the concrete with one knee flat. Cruz is only wearing black tactical pants, a black tank top that shows off her arms, and boots. The woman’s shoulder length hair is pulled back tight. She’s leaning towards her bike, a Harley Low Rider black everywhere except for the dark brown seat, and peering at the parts. Cruz’s hands are already greasy from touching parts - the exhaust and the engine - like she’s been out here since the moment Josie left her upstairs.

“Brought you that coffee,” Josie says as she steps inside.

“Thanks,” Cruz says, glancing up at her.

Josie steps further into the garage until she’s close enough to her own bike that she can lean against the seat. Cruz’s muscles are on display, her biceps and triceps tightening as she ti go tens a bolt. It isn’t lost on Josie that Cruz is wearing a black tank top, but nothing over it.

Josie perches one foot up onto the pedal and just holds the coffee, watching until Cruz turns. Cruz is wiping her hands off with a rag, a slight tick in her jaw. All Josie can think is that she may own this club, might call the shots, but Cruz owns her without even trying. Still, Josie absently wonders if she’ll ever see her wife smile again.

“We can share,” Cruz murmurs.

“I’ve already had a few sips;” Josie replies, lifting the mug above her chin, “I know you like it when it’s still hot.”

Josie fully extends the mug to Cruz after that. When the woman reaches out for it, their fingers brush together. It’s so gentle that it almost feels like reverence, a shout out to the way things were back when they first met. Every moment, every move, has been far beyond electric.

“Still good,” Cruz says when she pulls the mug off of her lips, “Thank you. Seriously.”

Their eyes lock and Josie gives Cruz a soft smile. When Cruz’s jaw loosens, her eyes soften too, and that feels like a win. Cruz’s boots sound heavy on the concrete floor as she moves towards the workbench in their garage to set the mug down. Cruz turns then, leaning back against the table to look at her.

“You don’t have to thank me, babe,” Josie says. She stares, and Cruz stares back. It feels like sparks brewing between them, a fire igniting any second. Josie parts her lips, the smallest of sighs falling out of them. “I’m just so glad you’re home.”

“Me, too,” Cruz replies.

“Want to go for a ride later?” Josie asks, “Just you and me?”

“Depends on my ride,” Cruz says, “It needs some work.”

“We can take mine,” Josie says, “I’ll even let you drive.”

Cruz almost smiles at her before picking up that mug and moving towards her again. Cruz takes another drink, holding it by the ceramic sides, and steps right in from of Josie. The woman lowers the mug, and holds it by Josie’s hands. She takes it, noticing there’s just enough for a last sip.

“Do you want more?” Josie asks.

“I’m ok,” Cruz answers.

Josie nods and stands upright, leaving no space between them. Josie turns slightly, placing a cautious kiss against Cruz’s jawbone. She pulls back just a bit to peer up into Cruz’s gaze. The woman meets it, tilting her chin down to make their eyes more even.

“I’m glad you’ve come back to me,” Josie says, barely above a whisper.

Cruz’s resolve cracks. The tightness in her shoulders loosens. Attentive hands come up to her face, cupping it beneath Cruz’s hard working palms.

“I will always come back to you, baby,” Cruz says, rough yet unwavering.

Josie inches upwards until their lips meet, determined and greedy right from the get go. Cruz’s steady hands move, one to her neck while the other crawls down her side. Strong fingers press into the small of Josie’s back, hand hot like it’s searing into Josie’s skin.

When Josie pulls back, fingertips tingling and butterflies floating in her stomach, she takes a long look at Cruz. It feels like the day they parted and nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and everything that Josie’s done is to protect her wife, to protect Cruz.

“I got you, babe,” Josie breathes, “We all do.”

“I know,” Cruz replies.

Josie parts with a soft smile; one she’s only ever given to Cruz. When she turns to head back into the shop, it lingers. The smile only fades when she steps out of the sunlight and back into the shop. She heads upstairs to her office. Josie does a few things - checking paperwork, reading a proposal one of her sisters have given her to open up a coffee shop in one of their currently vacated buildings.

After a few hours, Josie returns to the garage where she left Cruz. The woman is on her knees, head tilted towards the bike, hands around the exhaust. Although Cruz’s hands are greasy and covered in oil, the woman is precise.

“You ready?” Josie asks.

“Almost,” Cruz replies.

“How’s the ride?” Josie says.

“Almost there,” Cruz answers.

“I’m riding with you,” she murmurs.

Cruz pauses at that, turning her entire body to look up at Josie. Their eyes lock on and she can feel Cruz searching hers for an answer to some unasked question. Josie watches Cruz’s throat bob when she swallows.

“Ok,” Cruz finally says.

Once the bolt is tightened, Cruz stands up while wiping her hands off on a rag. The woman pulls the keys to the Harley out of her pocket and kicks the tools out of the way. Cruz throws her leg over the first seat like the bike doesn’t weight a damn thing, and kicks the stand out of the way, slowly backing it out of the garage. Once it’s out, Josie pulls the door down and secures the lock into place before climbing on behind her.

As Josie hooks her fingers through Cruz’s belt loops, the other woman starts up the bike. The engine revs to life, a steady vibration beneath them, while the thing roars. It crackles, trembles really, for just a moment, before Cruz shifts it into first gear.

The wheels squeal into action, ripping over the concrete as the Harley hits the ground hard. It sounds more powerful than before, and Josie knows that it’s because Cruz needs it. The woman needs to feel powerful when, to Josie, Cruz will always be the most powerful thing in the room.

Once the bike is on the road, the tremble beneath them evens out. It could just be Josie adjusting to the rumble of Cruz’s Harley while here’s is more subdued. Josie’s slides her fingers out of Cruz’s belt loops and settles her palms against Cruz’s stomach, holding on to the woman lightly as she leans against Cruz’s back.

Josie stays that way as Cruz drives the bike for half an hour, dust coming up around them, as she pulls over under some trees. It leads to low hills were Cruz’s stepdad taught her how to ride before he left. When Cruz first let her in this way, Josie knew there was no going back.

Cruz kills the engine. Josie hops off first, letting her legs stretch as she puts a little space between them. Cruz seems to hesitate before kicking the stand into place and getting off of the bike, too.

“So, how is this going to work?” Cruz asks after a beat.

“What do you mean?” Josie retorts, gaze narrowing on Cruz, “You’re my wife.”

“You’re the president of the club,” Cruz reminds her, “And I’m just a liability.”

“You’re not,” Josie says softly, “I would never see you as a liability.”

“Where do I fit?” Cruz says next, “Not just you and me…in the club?”

“Wherever you want,” Josie says, “You can do whatever you want, go wherever you want, just take me with you.”

“I think I need you more than you need me,” Cruz mutters, gaze dropping to a spot where asphalt and grass meet.

“You don’t know that,” Josie says, teeth gritting.

She’s trying to keep her cool, to allow Cruz to feel how she feels without flying off the handle. Josie’s gotten used to flying off of the handle rather than being easy. This isn’t like that though. She’s desperate for this person in front of her to hear her, to understand.

Josie steps closer. Close enough that she can reach out. Her hands clasp Cruz’s wrists first, feeling the woman’s pulse thump beneath her fingers. It beat like a normal speed, but, then again, that’s always been Cruz - calm and collected even in the highest stakes moments.

“Baby,” Josie breathes out.

She pushes that flare of frustration down and summons that part of her who loves her wife more than anything, the one who deep down knows that Cruz needs a gentle reminder. Her fingers press into Cruz’s palm next, but only for a second before she’s pulling the woman’s hands to push them against her hips. Josie lifts her hands then, starting by wrapping them around Cruz’s biceps and trailing them over shoulders until she’s winding her arms around Cruz’s neck.

“You mean more to me than this stupid fucking club,” Josie says now. She takes her hands back for just long enough to push her cut, the vest with all of the club patches, off of her shoulders. The leather hits the ground hard, dirt flying up behind her. “Without the club, I have you. Without you, I have nothing.”

“Where’s my place then?” Cruz asks.

Even with the question that carries Cruz’s instinct to push her away, the woman’s hand contradicts that by moving to the small of her back just to pull them close. Their boots are toe to toe, but their air between their bodies is thick. Josie presses a hand against the back of Cruz’s neck. Cruz tilts her chin down, their lips ghosting close.

“Beside me,” Josie answers.

“In front of you,” Cruz says softly, “I’ll be your shield.”

Josie leans forward, brushing her lips against Cruz’s. It’s gentle, soft, a reassurance of love and need and want. Because that’s what they’ve always had - Cruz was her shadow long before Cruz was ever her shield. Either way, she can’t be herself without Cruz at her side.

Her tongue darts across Cruz’s bottom lip, sweeping over it. The moment Cruz opens her mouth, Josie’s licking up into it. Cruz gasps softly, the sound trickling over her lips and pressing against her throat. The woman deepens the kiss, sucking in her tongue, hand trailing down to grab her ass.

Their kiss turns desperate and hungry, like they’re making up for lost time. Instinct kicks in, and Cruz is turning them so she’s pressed against the seat of the bike. Once she’s resting against it, Cruz’s hands find the button on her jeans. When they’re half unzipped, Cruz’s hand slides passed the hem of her underwear. Josie parts her knees in anticipation and, when Cruz’s warm fingers brush her clit, she arches into the woman.

Cruz’s hands are everywhere all of a sudden, touching her tits and fucking into Josie with her fingers. Cruz has never been very good at expressing her feelings, but this the woman is good at - expressing her feelings this way. Josie whines when Cruz pulls back, lips brushing her jaw then her throat, and finally sucking a blooming bruise against her neck.

Josie comes quietly and easily from not being touched since Cruz went away. Every time she’s looked at Cruz the last 18 hours, a want has dropped inside of her, a need to be touched. Only one person has ever made her this crazy, this pliant, and her body has longed for Cruz.

“Fuck,” Josie breathes against Cruz’s neck.

The woman’s arms secure around her waist, fingertips absently fluttering beneath the waistband of her jeans in the back. She absently runs her fingers through Cruz’s hair for a few minutes. When she’s steady again, she leans back to look into Cruz’s eyes.

“You can’t throw yourself in front of me, ok? Promise me that,” Josie says, voice strained and broken, “I couldn’t handle it if anything bad happened to you.”

“Everything that I do,” Cruz starts, lifting a hand to her cheek and brushing her thumb across Josie’s cheekbone, “Is to protect you. I can’t watch a single bad fuckin’ thing happen to you. I love you too fucking much.”

“Everything you feel about me,” Josie says, “That’s how I feel about you.”

“So we protect each other,” Cruz replies, steadily and definitely, “Ok?”

“You and me, baby,” Josie says, standing to her full height, “Us versus everything.”

Cruz’s lips crash against hers, a plethora of emotion pouring out of the woman. Josie takes it. She takes everything that Cruz gives her because they’ve always found solace in each other.

When they pull apart, Cruz rests her forehead on Josie’s like she’s remembering how to breath. One last sweep of her thumb, and Cruz slides her hand down Josie’s front to grasp her hip. Josie lets her eyes drift closed, soaking the moment in.

After a few minutes, Cruz pulls back and says, “Let’s go home, baby.”

Josie nods softly. She follows Cruz onto the back after picking her cut up off of the ground and putting it back on, settling in behind the woman. Josie wraps her arms around Cruz’s waist and brushes her thumb against Cruz’s sternum.

She holds on the whole way back, remembering Cruz’s warmth, and hugging the woman’s middle tight.

Chapter 3: All of Me

Summary:

Cruz POV

Josie drags Cruz to dinner with her family - revealing a well kept secret. Despite feeling out of place, Josie reminds her that she's home and makes a promise that ultimately changes the way Cruz approaches everything.

Notes:

Happy birthday to our Queen Genesis!!!

When Josie had asked her, Cruz was on her back with the woman’s fingers tracing the snake wrapped around an anatomical heart on the inside of her left bicep. Josie kept dragging her fingers from the snake tail and down to the crease in her elbow where the woman brushed over the word LOVE. Josie had written it out and, in a moment of reckless abandon, Cruz hadn’t been able to think of a single reason of why she shouldn’t have it permanently etched into her skin.

It had been distracting. Cruz had longed for years just to have Josie trace that tattoo in the dark. Josie is the only person who has memorized the shape of it, the movements, not even a speck of light to find it because Josie already gets it right every time.

That’s how Cruz is following Josie into Maria Carrillo’s house a few blocks away. It’s close enough to walk, but Josie had insisted on Cruz driving. She suspects that it’s just Josie trying to give her some control.

Cruz’s relationship with Maria is far from complicated. Maria came to visit her in prison every few weeks. That didn’t let up when Pablo died. Although Maria has never really known the nature of her relationship with Josie, Josie’s mother has always welcomed her in the door whenever she followed Josie home.

It’s Josie’s sisters that have a problem with her. Pablo had given her special interest - training her, guiding her, teaching her. Cruz always knew that it was because, to him, she’s expendable. The only person she’s never been expendable for is Josie. That special interest made Elena, Isabela, and Sophia not like her very much.

But…Josie is her family and with that comes Josie’s family even if their relationship is tumultuous.

“Mami,” Josie calls out, hand on the doorknob and waiting for Cruz to step in, “We’re here!”

“You brought a guest?” Josie’s mom asks before rounding the corner.

But when she does, Maria stops in her tracks. Her eyes widen and they trail all of the way down to Cruz’s boots then back up to the woman’s face. Maria strides over with both hands out, easily cupping Cruz’s jaw. Josie’s mother sweeps her thumbs over Cruz’s cheekbones as a smile spreads across Maria’s face.

“Mija,” Maria murmurs quietly.

Slowly, Maria pulls Cruz into a hug. It takes a moment for Cruz’s rigid form to relax enough to hug Josie’s mom back. It goes for an extended period of time before Maria pulls back and lets Cruz breathe again. Josie’s hand flattens against the small of Cruz’s back as the woman silently encourages her legs to move.

“Dinner coming along?” Josie asks.

“Get your butt in there and find out,” Maria replies, “You’re not too good to help.”

Josie sighs but steps passed them, quickly disappearing to the kitchen. Cruz watches her go, almost nervous to let Josie out of her sight. Maria curls a hand around her wrist, getting Cruz’s attention, and pulls her towards the dining room. Cruz has lasted all of 2 days, not even 48 hours, avoiding anyone other than Josie.

“Is Josie making you feel welcome?” Maria says as they both sit at the table.

“Yeah,” Cruz says, hands flattening against her thighs beneath the table, “She is.”

“She can be a little rough around the edges,” Maria says softly.

Cruz is shaking her head in protest when Isabella steps into the room. She purses her lips immediately, heartbeat speeding up for 2 beats before Cruz can get it under control. Cruz’s eyes land on Isabella and her jaw tightens, walls slamming up to protect herself. Just when Josie had chiseled some of those walls away.

“Cruz,” Isabella breathes, “What are you doing here?”

“Issa,” Maria hisses, “Stop it.”

“Just thought you were, you know, locked up,” Isabella says.

Luckily, Josie comes in next, bringing a plate of tamales. The woman’s hand brushes over her shoulders, soothing her, and calming that little storm brewing in her chest. Josie sets the plate down in the table just in time for Elena and Sophia to come into the room, too. Elena squeals and practically throws the glasses onto the table before both arms are thrown around Cruz’s shoulders.

“Alright, kid,” Josie mumbles, practically dragging her 16-year-old sister off of Cruz, “Give her some room to breathe.”

Elena sits down next to Cruz, earning a silent glare from Josie. Cruz hides a smirk as Josie sits across from her. Her eyes gravitate to Josie, and Cruz immediately feels relief at how easily she’s doing that. That had been a fear of hers.

“Let’s eat,” Maria says with a smile that Cruz thinks won’t go away for anything.

After they all load up their plates, Cruz naturally goes last and grabs a modest amount of food. She’s easing back into eating that actually has nutrition. Cruz takes a modest bite of a tamale when she feels multiple pairs of eyes staring at her. For some reason, Cruz looks at Elena rather than anyone else who wasn’t eating.

“You look different,” Elena says, “Stronger. More tired.”

“I am,” Cruz says, eyebrow quirking, “If you had seen me two nights ago, I would have scared you.”

“Not true,” Josie interjects, “You looked like a dream come true.”

Cruz’s gaze snaps to Josie’s, eyes widening easily. She’s never heard Josie compliment her in any way around her family. Not something that can be so easily construed as love. Her lips pull, but she doesn’t smile, even as her eyebrow arches amused at the woman across the table.

“You still look like you though,” Elena adds softly.

“Thanks, kid,” Cruz murmurs.

“Daddy was proud of you,” Sophia says from the other end of the table, “He would be happy you’re home.”

“His long lost daughter,” Isabella huffs out.

Josie grimaces at that, saying, “Don’t say that. Dear god, never fucking say that again.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Maria asks after a silence washing over the table.

“Is that all you can think about?” Sophia asks, in all have her 22-year-old disgust, “Being a grandma?”

“I’m just asking,” Maria says with a shrug, “All of my daughters are single. All four of you. That’s odd.”

Cruz is silent. She’s usually prone to keeping her mouth shut unless directly asked a question. That’s how she’s been for years, even before she was doing time. The only person she really talks to is Josie.

But she looks across the table at her wife, feeling the pain of their quiet years for the first time probably ever. Cruz can’t help wondering if it’s because Josie is ashamed. In all of Josie’s them against the world talk, Josie forgot to actually tell anyone that there’s a them in the first place.

Not that she’s ever appreciated anyone in her business.

“That’s not true,” Josie says, staring Cruz down like Josie can read minds now. Maybe she can though. Josie’s always been particularly successful at anticipating Cruz’s needs. All eyes turn on Josie now, and Maria’s eyebrows are furrowed so deep that Cruz thinks there are permanent lines forming as Josie’s mother stews. “I’m actually married.”

“You are not,” Isabella groans, rolling her eyes.

“When?” Sophia asks quickly, “To who?”

“Yeah, to who?” Maria repeats.

Josie points in Cruz’s direction with only her thumb, the one that’s holding the fork. Maria shakes her head at that, confusion blooming on her face. Cruz just tilts her head a little, just enough that Josie smirks at her.

“We got married, what?” Josie starts, “Almost fiv-“

“Five years ago,” Cruz answers at the same time.

“Who?” Elena says now, “I don’t get it.”

“Ellie,” Josie says, voice harder and more commanding. Elena looks up at Josie, brows knit tight. Elena isn’t afraid of Josie, not like the woman’s other sisters, so she challenges Josie with just one like. “Keep up.”

“Yeah, Ellie, keep up,” Isabella says, “The golden boy married our sister and they didn’t tell anyone.”

Cruz just looks at Josie, gaze never faltering, finding her strength in Josie’s brown eyes even if the woman isn’t looking at her. Her jaw feels tighter than just a few minutes ago. But not Josie. Josie just laughs even as Elena scoffs.

“Cruz,” Maria says softly, hand brushing the backside of her wrist, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Cruz looks at Maria, but doesn’t say anything. She’s never been very good with words, or being vulnerable. Her whole life she’s had the tendency to say the wrong thing and the only person who has never cared is Josie. Cruz looks at Josie, silently pleading with the other woman to answer.

“I think,” Josie starts, “If Papa knew he would have thought we were reckless, that we wouldn’t have been very good together.”

“Why are you telling us now?” Maria asks.

“I can’t hide the most important person in the world to me,” Josie answers, “Not anymore. Not when I just got her back.”

Cruz arches an eyebrow again, smile toying on her lips. She doesn’t feel like she’s smiled in such a long time. It would only be Josie who could get her to again.

“Badass,” Elena says excitedly.

“Thanks, lil sis,” Josie says softly.

“Yeah,” Cruz says, too, reaching over to gently touch Elena’s shoulder, “Thanks.”

Cruz retracts her hand and returns to eating in silence. While eating, she wonders how this will affect her relationship with the Carrillo family. She has Josie, but for the last 6 years, they’re the closest thing to family that she’s had. Cruz tries not to think about it, to not let it get to her…

But, by the time they’re climbing in to the truck, Cruz behind the wheel, Josie can already tell that something’s wrong. Cruz tightens her jaw as Josie slides her hand across the back of the bench seat. The woman’s fingers brush against her temple before tucking the hair behind her ear.

“You ok, baby?” Josie asks, “You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m always quiet,” Cruz reminds Josie. She starts the truck up and turns the lights on before shifting it to drive.. Cruz glances at Josie before taking off of the curb, pulling into the street. “Your sisters hate me.”

“They don’t,” Josie hums, hand settling into Cruz’s shoulder, “And it doesn’t matter if they do because I love you.”

“Yeah,” Cruz admits, “You’re right.”

Cruz feels Josie’s hand slide down her arm, only stopping the movement when the woman finds her hand. They sit like that for about a minute before Josie tugs on it, lifting Cruz’s hand. Josie presses a chaste kiss to the Y etched into her finger just above her knuckle. There’s a Lo and an Al on either side of it, tattooed on the rest of her fingers of that hand.

“Besides,” Josie breathes, “Ellie’s happy about it.”

“She’s sixteen,” Cruz says drily, “She doesn’t even know what that means.”

“I do,” Josie says softly, pressing her hand against the woman’s thigh, “It means I trust you with everything in me, with all of me.”

Cruz nods at that, squeezing Josie’s hand tight in hers. The music hums low from the radio, the peaceful nature of this moment seeping into her skin. She wonders if Josie feels it too, if Josie craves this a little. For months, years, she had imagined herself coming home to Josie and living in these moments. The last thing that Cruz expected was for it to actually happen.

“I don’t trust anybody else,” Josie says a beat later.

Then, Josie scoots closer across the bench of this old truck. Their thighs press together. It distracts Cruz at the light, glancing over at Josie. The woman leans forward, lips finding hers in a soft kiss.

Josie pushes Cruz’s hand between her thighs, leaving it there. Josie reaches up and curls a hand against the back of her neck, deepening the kiss by biting her bottom lip. Cruz instinctually grasps at Josie’s thigh, fingers curling, and leans towards Josie. Cruz’s heart is pounding, absolutely vibrating, in her chest as her eyes drift closed.

A horn beeps outside of the truck. Neither of them react to the noise. Josie just pulls back with a growl, a wanting shot at the driver of the vehicle.

Cruz snorts as she turns, eyes landing on the green light. She puts her foot on the gas, freeing the car behind them from being trapped. Maria’s house isn’t too far from the garage and their apartment. The lights in the shop are still on when she pulls into the alley. Once the truck is nestled into the garage, they lock the garage and start to head upstairs to their apartment.

Inside, Josie shrugs her cut off and hangs it on the back of the chair. Cruz stares at it for a long moment, letting her eyes trace the leather. She saw hers hanging up in the closet - the word Enforcer sewed into it. Before Cruz went down to keep Josie safe, there were rumblings about how unhinged she was, how unpredictable she is. Cruz doesn’t think that’s true - she’s always been predictable in the sense that she would die for Josie, do what it takes to protect her wife.

“So,” Josie hums, leaning back against the counter, “Now the fam knows.”

“Now they do,” Cruz says.

“What’s next?” Josie asks.

Cruz shrugs and moves across the kitchen, leaning against the counter beside Josie. She’s different though, lifting her arms and crossing them over her chest. Her jaw fixes tight as she looks at a chipped tile in the floor that she’s thought about fixing 101 times.

“Let them digest it,” Cruz says softly, turning the heel of her boot against the floor, “They don’t get to feel the way we feel about it. We’ve known for five years.”

“What do you want, Cruz?” Josie says now.

Cruz’s eyes snap to Josie, taking in the shape of her mouth and trying to determine the origination of that question. She studies her wife for one…two…three beats. She swallows, Cruz’s fists tightening while tucked beneath her elbows.

“You,” Cruz says, steady and unwavering.

“Do you want to go back to the way things were?” Josie says, “Like we didn’t lose those years.”

Cruz chews on the inside of her cheek, Josie’s question seeping in to her skull. It presses on her tongue, the weight of those lost years, and it tastes sour. She shakes her head, but the words are thick in her throat.

“We’re stronger together,” Josie says quietly, filling the silence. Then, the woman reaches over and trail a knuckle down her arm. The hairs raise beneath Josie’s reach, a chill shooting through her. “I felt so weak, so exposed, without you. I worked myself to exhaustion every day just so I was tired enough I didn’t think about what that bed felt like without you.”

Cruz swallows against, that lump only getting bigger.

“I was reckless,” Josie continues, “All I wanted is to build something that you could be proud of.”

“I’m proud of you,” Cruz says, rough, “Of course I’m proud of you.”

“I heard a but,” Josie retorts.

“I just don’t know where I fit,” Cruz says with a huff.

“If you say that one more time,” Josie says with a growl that presses against Cruz’s teeth even through the space between them, “I’m going to punish you.”

Cruz’s next breath is sharper. Her fists unclench and Cruz slowly relents. At least with her body. She drops her arms to her sides, and just stands there for a moment. A heat drops straight to her core, spreading there like smoke.

She takes one step forward then, turning her heel until she’s directly in front of Josie. Cruz has never been very good at just accepting a punishment without putting up a fight first. It’s how she ended up in front of Josie in the first place. Cruz grabs Josie’s wrists in her hands, moving the woman’s upwards until Cruz has Josie’s arms pinned against the cabinet.

“I don’t know where I fit,” she says slowly, low and a little tantalizing, “Tell me where you think I fit.”

Josie takes a moment to lick her lips, eyes darkening right there in front of Cruz. She tightens her grip, watching Josie’s face for a reaction, but the woman only tucks her bottom lip between her teeth. Cruz’s eyes drop to inviting lips, own mouth parting at the sight. She presses her hips against Josie’s, letting her weight settle against the woman.

“Oh, baby,” Josie finally grits out, “You know what you do to me.”

Cruz almost smirks at that, almost releases Josie’s wrists, but instead she leans down. Cruz presses a chaste kiss against Josie’s warm lips and keeps going. She darts her tongue across Josie’s jaw. Then Cruz bites Josie’s neck, smoothing it out with her tongue, quickly sucking a quiet bruise against the woman’s skin.

Josie’s breath hitches.

Cruz pushes her knee between Josie’s thighs at the same time that her grip loosens on the woman’s wrists. She’s quick when she drops her hands to cup Josie’s face, finding the woman’s lips in a hungry kiss. It’s messy - more than just lips - teeth and tongues, biting and licking and sucking.

Josie’s hands push at her hips, gentle at first, and then hard enough that Cruz steps backwards. Her lower back hits the island, mouth cold and wanting. Cruz realizes that this is a fight - one for control, one for dominance, one for want. No one can lose because they both want the same thing.

Josie grins at her, the small space between them feeling like torture as Cruz arches an eyebrow. The woman takes two steps toward, crashing into Cruz and meeting her mouth in another fervent kiss. Josie backs her up to island. Cruz’s hands immediately fist in Josie’s hair, threading her fingers through the soft strands.

Josie’s own hands push against her hipbones, then slip beneath the hem of her shirt. Warm fingers tap against her stomach, brush along her sternum and ribs, prompting Cruz’s hips to jut in response. She kicks into Josie’s mouth, letting her tongue trace Josie’s, gasps coming in soft spurts.

Josie’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of her tactical pants, brushing hot skin with blunt nails. Then they still right there by the buckle of her belt. Josie pulls back and, before Cruz can protest, drops to her knees. She immediately finds purchase on the island, palms against the countertop and fingers curled around the side.

As soon as Josie undoes her belt, her pants slip around her waist - just a few sizes too big after getting back. Josie’s fingers pull at the button in Cruz’s pants. They immediately drop around her ankles without anything holding them in place. Cruz doesn’t even have a second to think before Josie’s hands are on her thighs, running palms over her skin.

“Tell me you want this,” Josie murmurs before leaning.

“Yeah, baby,” Cruz says, voice coming out strained and tight, “I want this.”

Josie’s hands move down her legs - pushing into her knees, sliding over her calves and, when she gets to the material of her pants bunched at her ankles, the woman etches them back up. As she does, Josie presses gentle kisses to Cruz’s thighs and all she can do is part her knees more. When Josie’s hands get to the waistband of her boxer briefs, Cruz tilts her head up.

The woman’s fingers are soft as they slide down her legs, the piece of clothing tickling her just a little. Cool air brushes over her wetness below so Cruz shivers. Josie leans forward then, kissing the inside of her thighs until Cruz releases an ugly whine. Josie chuckles, one of those sounds that Cruz can only glare at a time like this.

A warm and wet tongue slide up the inside of her thigh. The anticipation builds in Cruz’s chest, a painful wait and excitement, and she practically holds her breath. Josie’s tongue touches the end of her clit. Cruz hisses at the contact, groaning deep in the back of her throat. Josie’s tongue strokes her clit next, pulling it into the woman’s mouth and sucking it gently.

“Fuck,” Cruz breathes, “Jos, god.”

Josie’s hands grip her thighs, fingers digging into her hamstring muscles, nails carving a moon shape into her skin. The sting shoots to her core, a groan falling out of her slightly parted lips. Cruz leans against one of her hands, wrist burning beneath the weight, and reaches down to thread her fingers through Josie’s hair. She holds Josie’s head in place, and she’s immediately granted with slow licks to her folds.

Cruz tilts her head back again, leaning more into Josie’s tongue as the woman flattens it against her clit. An unbridled moan falls out of her, wordlessly encouraging Josie to go faster. The woman complies, dipping the tip of her tongue into Cruz’s entrance then pulling back to stroke her until the heat builds and she comes all over Josie’s tongue whispering fuck over and over.

Her knees buckle, but, luckily, Cruz screwed the island to the floor years ago for this very reason. They both ended up with a scar from the island incident. Josie’s hands move up to her hips, grasping as the woman licks all of Cruz’s wetness off of her inner thighs.

Josie plants kisses against her torso all of the way up her body until their mouths meet in a dirty kiss. She isn’t even expecting it because Cruz is still catching her breath, but when Josie’s tongue slides over hers she hums against the woman’s mouth. Her fingers pull at Josie’s hair, deepening the kiss, until Josie pulls back.

“Fuck, baby,” Cruz says, voice thick and wrecked, “I forgot how good you are at that.”

“Glad I could remind you,” Josie whispers into her neck. A wet kiss is pressed into that spot, hot and dangerous against her skin. The island digs into her lower back when she lets go, curling that arm around Josie’s middle. “I forgot what you taste like.”

“Remember now?” Cruz asks.

“I’ll need another reminder later,” Josie teases.

Cruz shakes her head softly, whining in protest as Josie slips at of her arms and onto the floor again. She sucks in a deep breath, thinking all over again how pretty Josie looks on her knees. But Josie’s hands drop to the laces in her boots, tenderly untying them in a way that has Cruz’s heart skipping the tiniest of beats.

Josie stands back up, pulling off her own shirt as she does. All Cruz can do is look at the swell of Josie’s breasts beneath the glow of the dim kitchen light. Josie drops it to the floor, smirking at her like Cruz has just done exactly what Josie wants her to.

“We’re just getting started,” Josie murmurs. The woman reaches back and undoes her bra next, making Cruz’s jaw tighten without a second of hesitation. She reaches out, grasping Josie’s belt loops and pulling the woman forward. “I’m gonna remind you that you’re mine.”

“Ok,” Cruz breathes.

She nearly kisses Josie’s lips, but her wife pulls back too soon.

“Never forget where you belong,” Josie replies.

“Ok,” Cruz relents, “I’ll need you to keep reminding me.”

“I’ll never stop,” Josie promises.

The rest of their clothes come off in the hallway.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Daughters of Disorder