Archive of Our Own

Lightning flashed, illuminating the room for a brief moment.

One…

Two…

Three…

Fou--

CR-CRACK

“Hunhh? Mmmhh,” came a grumble. Estela looked down to see Taylor quickly roll over to face away from the window. Estela had never been too heavy of a sleeper; old survivalist habits die hard. Often, she’d have to get to sleep with the expectation of being on her feet at a moment’s notice, and sometimes, she wouldn’t get a proper warning.

Thinking of the life she left behind, and what her new life had to offer, she glanced wistfully over at a sleeping Taylor. The changes that overhauled her life so completely in just a few short years… to truly consider the gravity of those changes often sent Estela reeling. She had never known peace on such a resonant, deep level, but Taylor had nearly forced the concept into reality.

“Never again.” Taylor would promise, over and over, “Never again will you have to live in fear, of losing yourself or the ones you love…”

“...Because I’ll always be here,” Estela murmured, finishing Taylor’s promise. She smiled - this is what her life was, now: an endless, day-by-day experiment in redefining and reclaiming happiness. She reached over to lightly muss Taylor’s hair.

Another loud thunderclap shook their tiny, handmade house. Storms had always been a source of comfort for Estela; it was like listening to Mother Nature work out her own conflicts in real-time. The rain that pelted the roof was nothing short of soothing. It was still something of a miracle that she was alive to experience it; additionally, that she had someone to share it with.

Estela sank down in bed and turned on her side, wrapping an arm around Taylor’s middle to spoon her from behind.

To her surprise, she felt her wife nuzzle back into her body, as if trying to claim as much physical contact as possible. Did the storm manage to wake her?

Reciprocating the best she could, Estela strengthened her hold, bringing the two of them closer together. It was almost possessive, but there was no fear behind it, just an impossible desire to meld their bodies together, as they had done with their souls.

Estela rested her head in the crook of Taylor’s neck, breathing a deep, contented sigh. She felt her wife shift again; Taylor was fairly ticklish.

“Awake?” Estela leaned up to mumble near Taylor’s ear. There was a twitch, which inspired a mischievous smirk to appear on her face. Messing with her wife was an integral part of their marriage.

Should we get remarried, I’ll add it to my vows…

“Hhhhey, hhhhhoney,” Estela drew out the ‘h’s as much as she could. Another twitch. “Hhhhow hhhhhave you been hhhhhholding up?”

Taylor’s head snapped back to face her meddlesome wife with a surprising amount of speed, thoroughly nudging a snickering Estela out of her space.

“You’re unbelievable,” Taylor grumbled, propping herself upright. “Can’t just let sleeping Taylors lay, can you?”

“Not without me,” Estela smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Taylor opened her mouth to respond when the rain picked up and another thunderclap boomed, causing the house to quake once more. Whatever was on the tip of Taylor’s tongue died there and got replaced with an entirely new thought:

“Wait--it’s raining ?!”

Estela leveled her wife with a fond smile and watched as she bolted out of bed and ran to the window. Foolishly, she opened the shuttered, indignantly protesting when she immediately ended up getting drenched.

“Storming, even,” Estela deadpanned, unable to hide her smile as Taylor slammed the shutters closed and groaned.

Taylor swiveled in place, arms out, as if trying to figure out how to apparate the water out of her clothes. She didn’t notice Estela leap out of bed.

“Hey, do we have any dry tow--eLS?!”

The momentary distress served as a distraction in Estela’s favour, allowing her to sneak up and grab and lift Taylor into the air from behind. Estela spun Taylor around once before setting her back down, self-satisfied grin plastered on her face.

“‘Stel!” Taylor cried, turning to face her wife. “Why’d you do that?! You’re gonna be soaked!”

“As if I mind.” Estela’s grin didn’t waver; she stepped forward and took her wife’s hands in her own. Taylor’s eyes softened. Since she woke up, this was the first chance she had to appreciate not only Estela, but how the promise of a kiss never failed to make her heart jump.

“...Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

A tense moment between them passed, both only vaguely aware of moving closer together as if they were opposite magnets hopelessly attracted to each other.

...Which wasn’t entirely a false premise.

The kiss was sweet, yet too brief for either of their tastes. Taylor snaked her arms around Estela’s neck and pulled her in for a second kiss. Estela complied… then feinted to the side at the last second, leaving Taylor disappointedly liplocking air.

Shocked, Taylor whined at the lack of contact, until she felt the lips she meant to claim instead travel down the side of her neck. Whines quickly turned into a different kind of noise; her neck was easily one of her most sensitive areas, a fact Estela took advantage of hungrily, and frequently.

Taylor shuddered, her breath catching. Estela pushed her up against the wall, hands idly stroking along Taylor’s not-quite-defined abs.

“Nnhh, ‘Stel,” the fingers burrowing in Estela’s hair gripped tightly as Taylor whimpered. Those nonverbal lines of communication were what Estela lived for; they only served to fuel her fire when they were so encouraging.

Sucking another kiss near Taylor’s collarbone, she received a guttural moan that sent a shiver down her spine. Never in a million years would Estela have imagined herself in the position she was currently in, nor would she have ever imagined that she would ever have initiated it. She truly took great pleasure in every aspect of her neverending venture to further understand her partner’s ins and outs.

This was a change she could be proud of.

...So were the marks that would properly bruise in the morning - those marks in very visible spots. It was never something between them they could ever bother to feel shame or embarrassment about; it was always a point of pride, a symbol of rebellion against a world that tried to kill them countless times. It was their way of saying, “even through the world ending, we survived and our marriage is as strong as ever; take that , universe!”

“You know what the best part of a storm is?” Estela asked, voice gruff. Realizing Taylor likely wouldn’t be able to register any other senses beyond touch if she continued, she lifted her head and let a pause hang in the air. Taylor, having been given a moment to regain lucidity, merely croaked out a barely intelligible “ whuh? ”

Estela’s dangerous smirk returned. She leaned in close to Taylor’s ear and growled, “Noise suppression,” and got back to work.