#to past regrets and hopes and ambitions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chiqelatasblog · 2 months

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Can I request imagine: Bi Han fell in love with Shang Tsung's daughter; unlike her father she is gentle and soft spoken and thanks to her father she mastered soul magic takes place when Shang Tsung captured Bi Han and Kuai Liang please?

Um… Well… This imagine turned into a whole one-shot. I'll try to shorten it in the future. I realized that I can't write short fic.🥲

Fates Intertwined ♾️

-> Ao3 link is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub - Zero x You

Tropes : Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, Near Death Experiences, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Strangers to Lovers, Protectiveness, Possessive Behavior, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence , Intimacy

Summary : Bi-Han, gravely wounded during a mission, finds himself lost in the uncharted territory of Outworld. As he teeters on the brink of death, he awakens in an unfamiliar home. There a woman, a master of soul magic, emerges into his life, her presence calming and gentle as she tends to Bi-Han's injuries. Drawn to her unexpectedly, Bi-Han finds himself experiencing feelings he never had before.

However, little does he know, his savior harbors a secret...

Author’s Note : This is the first request I’ve ever received, I didn’t get any notifications about it so I found it on accident actually. Anyway I’m kind of excited to share it, it’s over 8k (I got away with feelings.) Hope it lived up to expectations! 💕

He was on the brink of death.

Bi-Han felt the specter of death looming closer than ever before as he dragged his battered body through the uncharted terrain of Outworld. While he had faced dangerous situations in the past, none had brought him as precariously close to the brink as this one. With every step, he pressed a hand against his stomach, where a gaping wound on his right side oozed blood, a portion of it torn away. His vision dimmed gradually, like a flickering lamp nearing its end, his breathing ragged, his steps unsteady. Despite having accomplished his mission, he snarled with what little strength remained, enraged that his slight lapse in caution would cost him his life.

Each step grew more arduous, his coordination failing as darkness encroached upon his sight. Unable to discern what obstacles tripped him amidst the dimming landscape, he collapsed heavily onto the ground. The wound, incessantly bleeding with each convulsion of his body, sent tremors of agony coursing through him, threatening to shatter his teeth as he gritted them in pain.

Struggling to roll onto his side, Bi-Han expelled the soil that had invaded his mouth and smeared his lips, laboring to draw oxygen into his weakened lungs. Above, the sky darkened, with the moon and stars emerging while clouds gathered ominously, presaging the impending rain. It was a grim realization that in this barren, lifeless landscape, he would meet his end alone—a consequence of his arrogance and overconfidence in his abilities. Dry and lifeless plants dotted the cracked earth, while rocks and pebbles stretched as far as the eye could see, with no sign of a river or any semblance of life.

Death had never been a fear for him, he was raised with the understanding that every moment could be his last. Memories raced through his mind like fragments of a shattered mirror; his training, the teachings of his clan, and the faces of those he had loved and lost along the way. Amidst the pain, a sense of regret gnawed at him, whispering of unfinished business and promises left unfulfilled. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a resolute determination surged within him, a steadfast refusal to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume him. While the frustration and ambition of leaving his goals unfinished weighed heavily, he found a measure of peace in knowing that Kuai Liang would capably assume the mantle of grandmaster and safeguard the clan.

As he drew a deep breath, a fit of coughing wracked him, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth. Turning his head to the side to avoid suffocation, he surrendered to a numbing sensation that dulled his senses from head to toe.

Finally, unable to stave off the encroaching darkness any longer, his eyes, barely able to remain open, fluttered closed.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

The first sensation that washed over him was a soothing warmth, cocooning him like a comforting embrace. Blinking open his eyes, Bi-Han found himself lying atop a soft surface, the faint scent of clean soap wafting around him. In the distance, he could hear a soft female voice humming a kind of melody, accompanied by the clinking of plates and dishes. Struggling to lift his heavy eyelids, he squinted at the wooden ceiling above him, its rough texture illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight casting dancing shadows across the room.

‘’The hell?’’

His words emerged hoarsely from his parched throat. As he attempted to sit up, the covers slipped off, landing on his lap, and a sharp pain shot through his side where the wound lay. Clenching his hand over the bandages wrapped around his abdomen, he felt the fabric instead of his usual cold skin. The bandages appeared freshly changed, but his right side had already begun to bleed anew due to his carelessness.

With a muttered curse, Bi-Han glanced around the room, his body tensing as footsteps approached. Instinctively, he summoned an ice kunai into his hand, a simple gesture that now felt exhausting under the circumstances. Just as the figure drew near, he leveled the weapon with a silent threat.

‘’I didn’t go through all this trouble just for you to kill me,’’ admonished a soft female voice. ‘’Besides, I’ve just changed those bandages, and now I’ll have to do it all over again. Why are you still sitting? You need to lay down.’’

Bi-Han’s surprise was tinged with suspicion. Was this woman blind? How could she not have noticed the sharp kunai in his hand? Moreover, she appeared unarmed, leaving herself defenseless against him. His anger flared at the implication that he was underestimated. Even injured, he was still a lethal force to be reckoned with.

‘’Do you intend to worsen the bleeding?’’ she continued calmly, stepping closer but maintaining a cautious distance. ‘‘I am not a threat to you. My name is (y/n). I found you and brought you to my home for treatment. You’ve been here for three days. If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing you back from the brink.’’

Bi-Han’s gaze softened slightly as he absorbed her words. Despite his initial hostility, there was something about her demeanor that suggested genuine concern. Yet, he remained wary, his mind racing with questions and suspicions.

‘’Why?” growled Bi-Han through clenched teeth, his gaze sharp as he eyed the young woman standing before him.

The woman blinked in surprise at the question. “I don’t understand.”

“Why did you save me?”

“Because you were dying,” she replied innocently, taking another step toward him. “Now, will you let go of what you have and let me help you?”

“I can take care of myself,” Bi-Han insisted, trying not to be swayed by the woman’s gentle aura as he moved to stand up, wary of her true intentions. The woman’s expression clouded with worry.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Don’t interfere—Fuck.” Despite his attempt to rise, sharp pain lanced through Bi-Han’s body, threatening to overwhelm him. Just as he felt himself faltering, a soft body caught him, careful to avoid his wound. A sweet scent enveloped him—cinnamon and vanilla—intoxicatingly sweet, like fresh-baked buns.

Relaxing involuntarily, Bi-Han allowed the woman to guide him back onto the bed, his resistance waning. She had a point—if she wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to keep him alive for three days, despite being a total stranger.

“I have to open the bandages and check your stitches. I’m afraid they may have burst.”

“I’ll take care of it myself,” Bi-Han retorted, refusing to show weakness or dependence.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” The woman’s voice softened, her gentle demeanor tugging at something within Bi-Han. Though he remained silent, she sighed deeply. “I have a light touch and am quite fast, you can trust me. If I happen to hurt you, you can also treat your wounds. I just want to assist and ease your suffering, especially since you’re badly wounded. Oh and besides that, I made some stew. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Bi-Han scrutinized (y/n) for the first time since waking, assessing her body language and facial expressions. As an assassin, he rarely misjudged people. Despite his initial wariness, he sensed a purity and compassion within her that he couldn’t ignore. The subtle tilt of her head and the warmth in her eyes felt genuine. Even though he couldn’t fathom why she would go to such lengths to heal a dangerous person like him, knowing he could easily harm her without breaking a sweat, he found himself appreciating her compassion. Yet, alongside his gratitude, a twinge of annoyance gnawed at him, stemming from her apparent blindness to the danger he inherently posed.

With a resigned grunt, he relented, allowing her to tend to him as she saw fit, though a part of him remained on guard, ready to react at the slightest sign of threat.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

A week had passed since his return from the brink of death, and four days since he had awakened in your home. In that time, while his wound had begun to heal rapidly, his movements remained slow and restricted. Returning to his clan without a full recovery would only be self-torment, risking undoing the healing process with his own hands. And also, you were stubborn about it, showing no inclination to let him go until he was fully restored to health.

As absurd as the situation seemed to Bi-Han, it also warmed him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Despite his injuries, he was an assassin and the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei—capable of neutralizing any threat that crossed his path. But you posed no threat; instead, you cared for him with remarkable dedication, as if welcoming a normal person into your home rather than a man with lethal abilities. Day by day, Bi-Han found himself lowering his guard against you, a sensation he struggled to control.

During the first night, while you slept, he scrutinized every corner of your house, finding no weapons or defenses. There was nothing you could have done to protect yourself from him. Trained from an early age to turn disadvantage into advantage, Bi-Han realized that this was not the case here. You harbored no ulterior motives; your only intention was to help him.

With the house being small and his movement limited by his wound, Bi-Han had ample time to observe and learn about you. Spending time together, he discovered your extraordinary ability to heal and revive him using soul magic—a gift passed down from your father. Bi-Han refrained from prying into your past, respecting the boundaries you set. He knew only what you chose to share—that your father was a merchant who often left for months at a time with his caravan.

Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, barely able to fit two people, Bi-Han assessed his unkempt appearance. His normally well-kept hair hung loose, difficult to manage due to his injury, cascading down his neck to his chest. A scruffy beard obscured his chin, his pale skin accentuated by dark circles under his eyes. Running a hand through his hair, he muttered to himself, ‘‘I need to shave… And I definitely need a damn shower.’’

‘’Did you say something?’’ Bi-Han looked at you inquisitively from the bathroom door, wondering how long you had been standing there watching him. Your cheeks flushed a sweet shade of red as you realized you had been caught. ‘’Well, the door was open, so—I thought, um… do you need something? I heard you talking to yourself,’’ you said, trying to regain your composure quickly.

‘‘I need to take a shower, and I also need to trim my beard. It itches.’’

‘’Oh, sure. The towels are right there.’’ you replied, entering the room and retrieving the towels from the wooden closet under the sink. As you spoke, you kept busy, avoiding his gaze. ‘‘It’s better if your wound doesn’t get wet for a while longer. I can give you a cloth to wipe your body, and I can help with your hair. If you want, of course.’’ Though you added the last part hastily, your avoidance of his gaze didn’t go unnoticed by Bi-Han, who couldn’t help but smirk slightly.

It was evident from your demeanor that you held an interest in him—your actions were transparent and sincere. What intrigued Bi-Han even more was that he also found himself drawn to you. For the first time in a long while, there was no need for him to be on guard, and your presence offered an unexpected reprieve from his usual responsibilities. You brought him more comfort than anyone had before, your dedication focused on helping rather than brute force, and you effortlessly dismantled the walls he had built around himself. It was a mystery to Bi-Han how you managed to achieve this in such a short time, but your presence had a calming effect on him.

‘’Do whatever you want.’’ Bi-Han said, beginning to undress. Your eyes widened in alarm at his actions.

‘’W-What are you doing?’’

‘’I will wipe my body as you said. Since you’re so helpful, maybe you’d like to assist me with that too?’’ Bi-Han lowered his voice, locking eyes with you as he took pleasure in the crimson blush that spread across your face. He didn’t fully understand this newfound calmness and playful demeanor within himself, but he felt compelled to act this way around you. You weren’t under his command or a threat to be eliminated; instead, you were the reason he was still alive. Though he was reluctant to admit it, he owed you his life.

Your response was stuttered and unclear as you hurriedly left the bathroom as if it were on fire. ‘’Just call out to me when you’re finished. And don’t forget to wrap a towel around yourself,’’ you called out from behind the door.

Bi-Han carefully placed his clothes in a corner to keep them dry, then settled onto the edge of the bathtub, ensuring not to disturb his bandages. Using the cloth you provided, he began to cleanse the dirt and grime from his body, avoiding the area of his wound. Minutes later, when the water ran clear, he wrapped one of the towels around his waist and called out to you.

Opening the door cautiously, you peeked inside to confirm that he was following your instructions. Seeing him with the towel wrapped around his waist, you entered the room and closed the door behind you. “Sit on the edge of the bathtub and lean your head back,” you instructed in a gentle tone. As Bi-Han complied, you adjusted the water temperature for a few seconds until it reached the desired level. Letting out a small murmur of approval, you turned your attention to him, holding a shower cap in your hand.

As your eyes met, your cheeks flushed once again, and you quickly averted your gaze to his hair. Clearing your throat with a small cough, you began to wet his hair, ensuring the water stayed away from his face. Bi-Han watched your every move with keen interest, finding pleasure in your innocence and sincerity.

“Does the water feel too hot?” you asked, breaking the silence.

A small grunt escaped Bi-Han’s lips. “I’m a cryomancer; water temperature doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. It’s not every day I meet someone like you. I thought cryomancers were just a myth,” your fingers hesitating slightly as you untangled his hair. Emboldened by his lack of reaction, you continued to work, carefully removing the knots with practiced hands. “Your hair is very beautiful.” you said in a low, soft voice that could be considered shy.

“It’s just black,” Bi-Han replied.

“It’s not just black; it’s like onyx, especially when it’s wet. I’ve never seen such dark black hair before. It suits you.” As you determined that his hair was sufficiently wet, you picked up a shampoo that smelled of sugary flowers and squeezed a generous amount into your hand. “I’m sorry, this is all I have. I hope it’s not a problem.” you said, your voice tinged with apology.

‘’It’s better than dirt,” Bi-Han remarked in a dry voice. Though he had no desire to smell like a flower garden, he also acknowledged that he didn’t have a better option. As your fingers began to massage his scalp, Bi-Han was taken aback by how pleasant it felt. Your deft fingers worked circles on his scalp, lathering the shampoo, and Bi-Han found himself relaxing in waves of relief, melting like ice rapidly thawing. The warmth in the bathroom, the gentle touch… it was almost overwhelming, especially given how skilled your fingers were at their task.

“You might want to close your eyes, I wouldn’t want the shampoo to run into them by accident.” You said, breaking him out of the trance he hadn’t even realized he had slipped into. Once again, Bi-Han was surprised at how low his guard was around you. He had stopped seeing you as a threat some time ago, but he couldn’t comprehend how easily he let down the automatic defenses he had cultivated over many years.

Closing his eyes, Bi-Han waited for you to rinse the shampoo from his hair. After washing for a while, you reached for the towel in the corner to help him dry off.

“Okay, you can stand up, we’re done.” you announced.

Bi-Han stood up quickly, stretching his neck, which had grown stiff from being in the same position for so long, before turning his gaze to you. With your cheeks flushed from the warmth of the bathroom, your clothes splattered with water drops, and your skin glowing from the moisture, you appeared vulnerable and innocent enough to make his chest ache.

Raised in a clan of ruthless assassins where survival and flawless execution of death were paramount, Bi-Han had always imagined the woman who would enter his life as strong, tough, with sharp eyes and an authoritarian nature to adapt to his lifestyle. Yet, looking at you, he began to question this assumption for the first time. You possessed a nurturing side that defied brute force, completely opposite to his expectations, and Bi-Han found himself unexpectedly drawn to this contrast. You were good to him.

“Bi-Han… You’ve been staring at me for a while. Is everything okay?” you asked.

“I want to kiss you.” Bi-Han blurted out suddenly. The words escaped his lips so spontaneously that he was as surprised as you were. Though he could have easily taken you in his arms and kissed you, he wanted your consent, to hear from your lips if you desired it as much as he did. You were the last person he wanted to intimidate or use force on.

As your eyes widened in astonishment, a loud “What?” escaped your lips.

‘’You heard me.” Bi-Han said sharply. Your cheeks flushed to the tips of your ears, the color he liked to see. Approving him in a soft, almost shy voice, your gaze drifted to the ground.

Finally hearing the answer he desired, Bi-Han growled and gently raised your head with his fingers grasping the tip of your chin. He connected his lips with yours, driven by a voracious appetite. This hunger was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, possessing a fiery intensity that shook him to his core. It wasn’t until he kissed you that he realized the depth of his feelings; he could have kissed your lips, as soft and tender as rose petals, for hours, sating an inner thirst he hadn’t known existed.

His hand traced the line of your jaw, capturing the back of your head and part of your neck. Placing his other hand on the curve of your waist, he gently squeezed the soft flesh, eliciting a small, breathless moan from your lips. Your voice, trembling like a whip of flame, ignited a dangerous fire within Bi-Han.

There was a unique taste to you, one that defined you completely. It was clean, like dewdrops forming on leaves in the morning spring, and wet as he slid his tongue between your parted lips. Another small moan escaped you as you placed your hands on his shoulders, your thumbs massaging the veins that began to appear on his neck. Bi-Han found himself hating the bathtub that stood as a barrier between them, longing to bridge the distance between you.

‘’Hold on tight.” He growled savagely, his lips pouring forth a mixture of desire and intensity. With your flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, and breathless look, you embodied a dangerous blend of innocence and allure, a presence that could emerge on the wettest of nights. As you tightened your grip on his shoulders in response to his command, Bi-Han effortlessly lifted you from the bathtub, as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Bi-Han! Your wound–” you began, concern lacing your voice.

“I’m fine.” Bi-Han cut you off, dismissing any objections as he instructed you to wrap your legs around his waist. He captured your lips again, this time with a fierce hunger that left little room for gentleness. Despite his intentions to proceed slowly and remain in control, you made it nearly impossible with your presence alone. Your scent, your soft skin, your delicate movements – they all acted as an irresistible spell, unraveling Bi-Han’s logic and common sense piece by piece.

Drops of water from his wet hair trailed down your cheek, then your neck, as Bi-Han followed their path with his tongue. He paused at the curve of your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.

“You don’t even know how bad I want you. Now.” he declared in a voice thick with desire, his need palpable. Tilting his head slightly, he took your earlobe between his teeth, exerting just enough pressure to send a shiver down your spine. “Can I have you?”

You trembled in his arms, pressing your body against his, and buried your head in the curve of his neck, your voice barely above a whisper, the soft cadence of your affirmation barely audible against his skin.

“Yes. Ah, to—to bed… Let’s go to bed.” you murmured, your voice filled with anticipation.

Responding to your command, Bi-Han carried you swiftly into the bedroom, stealing kisses and caressing your soft flesh which filled perfectly in his palms along the way. As he carefully placed you on the bed, he ensured not to overwhelm you with his weight. With one knee positioned between your legs and applying small pressure to your aching core, he felt your breath quicken, your legs parting slightly, inviting him closer.

“Bi-Han, please… hurry,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. Despite not yet fully engaging in intimacy, you were already consumed by desire, your surrender evident in every trembling breath and pleading glance. Bi-Han found himself entranced by the unique blend of your naivety and charm, a combination both intoxicating and heady. It puzzled him how you could exude such innocence while also igniting a fire within him, a sensation he found both captivating and bewildering.

With every inhibition shattered, Bi-Han’s entire being was consumed by you. His mind echoed with a commanding voice, declaring possession. ‘Mine. You are mine.’ With each beat of his heart, the intensity of his desire deepened, enveloping him in a whirlwind of need. His arousal surged with a newfound fervor, driving him to seek you with an urgency he had never known before. He longed to lose himself in your warmth, to leave an indelible mark on you, claiming you as his own in a way that no other could satisfy you again.

‘‘Fuck. I wanted to take it slow,” Bi-Han cursed, his voice filled with frustration.

“Another time,” you replied swiftly. “I want you, Bi-Han. I need you… just… please.” As your attempts to form coherent sentences faltered, you resorted to expressing your desires through your eyes, tears clung to your lashes, your need laid bare for him to see. Despite the flush that colored your face, neck, your chest peeking through your clothes, your timidity had been replaced by a raw, unbridled desire.

“Another time.” Bi-Han echoed your words, his tone laced with determination. It was a promise, a vow to indulge in the intoxicating taste of you until every inch of your body bore his mark. The thought had transformed into a primal need, a longing to possess you completely.

With swift motions, Bi-Han stripped away your clothes, discarding them haphazardly. As predicted, your chest also completely flushed dark, your nipples hardening under his gaze, pleading for his touch.

“You are such a sight… so beautiful,” Bi-Han murmured, his words tinged with reverence. You squirmed under his attention, somewhat embrassed by his words and attempted to cover yourself clumsily. As he untied the towel from his waist, he fixed you with a stern gaze. “Don’t you dare hide anything from me. This is not a request.”

When his cold fingers made contact with the intimate area between your legs, you flinched at the sudden chill. Instead of recoiling, however, you parted your legs, wordlessly inviting him closer. Bi-Han found himself drawn to this decadent aspect of you, contrasting with your usual demeanor. You were slick with arousal, your warmth enveloping his cold touch until it reached a semblance of normalcy.

“Next time, I will explore you slowly, savoring every moment,” he declared, his voice brooking no argument.

And so he did.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Another two weeks slipped by, each day marked by the steady healing of his wound and the gradual return of his strength. Strangely, Bi-Han found himself not minding the passing of time, a stark contrast from his usual restlessness. Even though his days were now filled with the singular purpose of recuperation, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bored in your company.

You had established a routine of caring for him in the house. Every morning, after sharing breakfast together, you diligently tended to his wound, changing bandages with meticulous care. Despite his stature, Bi-Han appreciated the gentleness with which you handled him, as if afraid to cause him any discomfort.

Following this, Bi-Han would retreat outdoors to meditate or exercise, while you busied yourself with tending to the garden and other household chores. Occasionally, you would venture to the market, a task Bi-Han offered to take over multiple times, only to be politely declined by you each time. He sensed a trace of anxiety in your eyes whenever you left, as though fearing his departure in your absence.

The reality of his impending departure weighed heavily on Bi-Han. Though duty called him back to his clan and responsibilities, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you behind. The bond between you had grown deeper with each passing day, surpassing even the connections he shared with his own brothers. You had a remarkable ability to understand him without words, a skill few others possessed.

In your presence, Bi-Han found himself rediscovering aspects of himself long buried beneath the facade of his assassin persona. With you, he experienced a sense of comfort and peace he hadn’t known in years. Every touch, every embrace left him yearning for more, a relentless desire burning within him. He marveled at the intensity of his feelings for you, realizing that he wanted every part of you in a way he had never imagined possible.

His favorite time of the day was undoubtedly dinner. Sitting across from you, sharing simple conversations, witnessing your smile, hearing your laughter, and seeing your eyes light up brought him joy. It was a simplicity he hadn’t experienced since becoming the grandmaster. Once disciplined, strict, and focused solely on responsibilities, he now found value in these moments, offering him a new perspective on life.

As both of you sat facing each other at dinner, Bi-Han decided it was time to address the lingering topic that had hung in the air for some time.

“You mentioned you could remove my stitches in a few days, after that I’ll return to Earthrealm.” He stated firmly. Though he disliked seeing the smile on your face fade, you both knew he couldn’t remain cocooned in this sanctuary forever.

“Oh… So you’ve decided on the day.” You responded, averting your gaze as you spoke. When you reached for your wine, Bi-Han gently grasped your hand, halting your movement.

“I want you to come with me.” he declared.

Your eyes widened with surprise. “To your clan? Really?”

“Yes, I want you to see where I live.” Bi-Han lifted your wrist, his touch still gentle as he grazed his index finger against your skin, all while maintaining unbroken eye contact. “I wasn’t joking when I said you were mine.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly as a sweet laugh escaped your lips, a sound Bi-Han found irresistible. In that moment, he realized his attachment to you ran deeper than he had ever realized.

“You know, I’m not an item that you can take wherever you want.”

“I didn’t mean it in that sense.” His gaze shifted to the dozen bruises on your neck, a satisfied curl tugging at the corner of his lip. Each mark filled him with a sense of ownership, igniting a fire within him every time he saw them.

“Then it’s only fair that I should say that you are also mine.” you countered. Despite your brave demeanor, your face betrayed your true feelings once again. As you took a sip from your glass, attempting to hide your expression, Bi-Han watched you silently, a smile playing on his lips, hidden only by his hand resting on his chin.

As Bi-Han grappled with the conflicting desires pulling at his heartstrings — duty to his clan and the burgeoning attachment to you — a storm of emotions raged within him. The weight of responsibility tugged relentlessly, reminding him of the obligations he bore as the leader of the clan. However, a shadow began to loom over his resolve, stirring a longing for something more.

“I’d love to,’’ you finally said after a moment. ‘‘But I have to wait for my father’s return; I don’t know when he will come here.’’

“You can leave a note.”

“I’d rather talk it over with him face to face,” you insisted politely. “But I can come to visit from time to time. If it’s convenient for you, of course, I’d love to see where you grew up and spend time there.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

It had been five months since Bi-Han returned to his clan, and everything was just as he had left it. Kuai Liang had managed the clan well in his absence, with the assistance of Tomas and Sektor, although Bi-Han knew his brother was downplaying his own contributions. Despite the slight age difference between them, Kuai Liang was more than capable of assuming the role of grandmaster.

There was considerable curiosity among the clan members about his prolonged absence and the circumstances surrounding it. Tomas, in particular, had been concerned for his well-being the most. During a briefing with the council members, consisting solely of his inner circle, Bi-Han provided a summary of what happened, including mentioning you and your remarkable abilities. The news of your impending visit piqued the interest of everyone present, even if they attempted to conceal it.

Although you could only visit twice in five months, you effortlessly bonded with his brothers. Even with Sektor and Cyrax, you made it easy to connect, your kind soul evident in your demeanor and smile. It felt as though you had always been a member of the clan, your presence comforting and familiar to everyone. During conversations, you repeatedly expressed feeling comfortable and safe around them. This, coupled with the unique way you contributed to Bi-Han’s recovery, swiftly earned you the respect of the entire clan.

When you did visit, Bi-Han found solace and peace in holding you in his arms once more. In your absence, he had been on edge, constantly worrying about your well-being. Your presence felt like a breath of fresh air, infusing color and vibrancy into his otherwise monotonous existence. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with you, but your influence had been undeniable from the moment he first laid eyes on you. The desire to keep you close, to protect you at all costs, consumed him, even though he knew the realities of their lives would make it challenging. Being separated from you had taken a toll on his nerves, leaving him irritable and restless. Amidst the tumultuous whirlwind of his thoughts, Bi-Han grappled with the overwhelming desire to see you again.

The last time you visited, you stayed for a while. One night, in particular, is etched clearly in Bi-Han’s mind. A fierce wind howled outside, causing the windows to rattle, while snow fell rapidly, swirling in the storm and clinging to the glass surfaces. Except for the candles flickering in the room, there was no other light, casting a dim glow. The scent of both of you enveloped the room like a heavy blanket.

After bringing you to climax multiple times, your body glowed with vitality like a pearl, cheeks flushed dark with a serene smile adorning your face. Half of your body draped over him, your elegant fingers traced lazy circles on his bare chest, while Bi-Han’s hand caressed the smooth skin of your back. In that moment, he felt complete, as if a part of him that he didn’t even know was missing had been found. It was as if you were both separate individuals yet inexplicably intertwined—each completing the other.

When your fingers ceased their movement altogether, Bi-Han glanced down to see why, his heart swelling with warmth. You had drifted off to sleep, your face relaxed in slumber, lips slightly parted. You appeared so peaceful that Bi-Han couldn’t bring himself to disturb you. This wasn’t the first time you had fallen asleep beside him, and each time, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and a burning desire to protect you. He knew you trusted him enough to reveal your vulnerability in these moments.

His mind was more at ease than ever before. Even though he was in his own home, with you beside him, he felt a sense of belonging that he had never experienced before. Especially during the times he awaited your arrival, he had never felt such intense longing to see someone again—your presence shaking his very core, pushing the limits of his endurance. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear being without you; your absence felt like torment, while your presence transformed him into a different man altogether.

Although the notion of someone having such power over him would typically be unsettling, he couldn’t view it negatively because it was you. What concerned him more was the possibility of others noticing—the fear that his enemies might discover you, exploiting his vulnerability by hurtin you.

Two and a half months had passed since he last laid eyes on you, adding to the weight of the task Lord Liu Kang had bestowed upon him and his brothers. He longed to complete this mission swiftly and reunite with you, yearning for the calming embrace of your presence. The strain of constant vigilance was taking its toll on him, both mentally and physically, culminating in his recent capture alongside Kuai Liang.

Navigating the stone corridors of Ying Fortress, Bi-Han found himself flanked by a dozen soldiers, with Kuai Liang by his side and Shang Tsung and General Shao ahead of them. Shang Tsung’s words fell on deaf ears as Bi-Han contemplated his next move, steadfast in his refusal to entertain any offers from these unfamiliar men. His focus remained fixed on devising an escape plan to extricate himself from this predicament. As they traversed the corridor into a vast area, Bi-Han was confronted by a multitude of stone sculptures lining the space. Hindered by the restraints on his wrists, he scanned the area for any potential means of escape, exchanging a knowing glance with Kuai Liang, who mirrored his uncertainty.

“Father?”

Bi-Han’s eyes widened at the sudden sound of a familiar, albeit unexpected, female voice behind them. Sensing Kuai Liang’s reaction, he knew it wasn’t a trick of his imagination. With a swift turn, his heart raced as he watched the soldiers before him part, revealing your approach. What the hell were you doing here?

“What’s going on here — Bi-Han?” Your wide-eyed astonishment mirrored his own. As Bi-Han scanned you for any signs of harm, he moved to approach you. But before he could reach, a soldier struck him in the stomach with the tip of his weapon, causing him to stagger backward.

‘’Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!” Your voice, tinged with worry as you shoved the soldier aside, your anxious eyes locking with his. “Bi-Han, are you all right?”

“What are you doing here?” Bi-Han growled out a whisper, tension taut in his voice.

“I’m asking you the same.”

“What is the meaning of this? Do you two know each other?” Shang Tsung’s voice sliced through the hushed talk, prompting Bi-Han to instinctively shield you, despite the restraints on his hands. Determined to protect you at all costs, Bi-Han urged you to take cover behind him, his voice laced with venom. “Get behind me.” he commanded, his grip tightening protectively around your arm.

“There is no need. He is my father.” You revealed, catching Bi-Han off guard with the unexpected revelation. Stunned by the revelation, Bi-Han chastised himself for not piecing together the clues sooner. Living in Outworld, soul magic, an enigmatic father figure—it all suddenly made sense. Yet, your stark differences in character from your father only deepened Bi-Han’s sense of disbelief.

“Why are they prisoners?” you questioned, your gaze flickering between your father and the imposing figure of General Shao and the eerie aura that seemed to surround them.

“They attacked us.” General Shao asserted, his voice gruff as he responded to your inquiry. “We were about to take care of business before you came, sorceress.” Despite Shao’s attempt to intimidate you with his imposing presence, Shang Tsung interjected before Bi-Han, shooting Shao a warning glance.

“They attacked?” Your gaze flickered momentarily, silently questioning the situation. ‘Why?’ The unspoken question hung in the air, directed at Bi-Han. “I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“They were sent here by Liu Kang’s order. To catch us and maybe kill us.” Shao divulged, his voice dripping with hostility.

“Why so? Nobody has told me anything since I was brought here, and even now you still insist on not telling me. I want to know what’s going on. Tell me the truth.”

“Walk with me,” Shang Tsung interjected, gesturing towards a secluded area. With a final, anxious glance towards Bi-Han, you complied, flanked by Shao and Shang Tsung. Bi-Han’s instincts screamed to follow, but he was thwarted by the soldiers’ firm grip. Initially, Bi-Han braced himself for a sense of betrayal, believing that you had concealed Shang Tsung’s identity as your father. However, upon reflection, he realized that you had always been forthcoming with him, never hiding the truth about your father. Bi-Han had simply never asked. Your genuine reaction to the unfolding events affirmed your honesty. It became evident that Shang Tsung had dragged you into this situation without explanation. All that mattered now was escaping with you safely by his side.

‘’You seem quite invested in these men, (Y/n),’’ Shao remarked in a harsh tone, his words more of a probing question than a mere observation.

‘’It’s none of your concern, General Shao.’’ You retorted firmly.

‘‘But it is my concern,’’ interjected Shang Tsung, his tone authoritative. ‘‘As your father, I demand to know the nature of your association with the infamous grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.’’

‘’Before you question me, father, perhaps you should first explain your activities over the past months. Then, and only then, will I consider divulging any information.’’ you countered. ‘’You dragged me here without giving me an explanation, expecting blind trust. It’s not fair, and you know it. You’re exploiting my kindness, I deserve some answers.’’

‘’I was promised my true potential, and I’m going to get that right back. You’re my blood and flesh, I want nothing more than to secure you a good and wealthy future, I want what is best for you—for us.’’ Shang Tsung continued to talk as he walked towards a dark-colored box that looked like some kind of chest. ‘’Take a look around, do you remember what I told you about this place?’’

You watched him with hesitant eyes, then looked around you before answering his question.

‘‘Yes, you said that Emperor Ying’s Dragon Army was here.’’

‘‘Very true. What I told you was not just a fairy tale. These statues were constructed and enchanted by the great mages in the Emperor’s court.’’ Shang Tsung opened the lids of the box, took out a crown and a small green bottle, and emptied the contents of the bottle onto the crown. ‘‘They are animated by the fragments of souls. Once alive they fight tirelessly, unburdened by remorse or pity.’’

‘’What are you planning to do with these?’’ You said, your voice overflowing with obvious concern now.

‘’If they won’t be on our side,’’ Shang Tsung murmured with a half-smile, placing the crown on his head. ‘‘Then I will eliminate them. This is what I had to do, for our future.’’

The moment he finished his words, six of the soldiers standing a little further away stepped forward, and with mind control, moving nimbly despite being made of stone, they began to descend the steps towards them. Bi-Han’s muscles tensed involuntarily, his body as taut as a drawn bowstring as he observed the approaching stone soldiers. If only he could get rid of these damn handcuffs…

‘’No!” Your panicked scream echoed through the vast area as you summoned your magic, green energy crackling around your outstretched hand in an attempt to halt the advancing soldiers. When you realized your magic was ineffective against them, your attention swiftly shifted back to your father.

“Father, stop this!” Startled by your sudden movement and desperate cry, Shang turned his attention to you, momentarily caught off guard. Seizing the opportunity, you darted forward, delivering a powerful blow to his knee, causing him to buckle and kneel before you. With him immobilized for a moment, you snatched the crown from his head and placed it on your own. ‘‘I’m sorry, father, but I cannot allow this.’’

‘’Have you lost your mind?!’’ While Shang Tsung was looking at you with stunned and greatly betrayed eyes, despite the distance, Bi-Han could see tears welling in your eyes. ‘’I am your father! My blood runs through your veins; your loyalty should lie with me.’’

‘‘I know, and I am sorry,’’ you said, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’But I love him.’’ Both Shang Tsung and Bi-Han froze with surprise at your unexpected reveal, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Your breath came out quickly, the air heavy with tension as a few tears escaped from your eyes, glimmering in the light. ‘’That’s why I cannot stand by and watch you harm him.’’

“(Y/n), behind you!” Kuai Liang’s urgent shout jolted you into action, narrowly dodging Shao’s axe at the last moment. With Shao bearing down on you, Bi-Han could no longer stand idly by. Keeping you in his sight, he and his brother sprang into action, combating Shao’s soldiers amidst the chaos, using the handcuff chains to choke one of the soldiers.

Despite your efforts to evade Shao’s attacks and deflect them onto the stone statues, he effortlessly dispatched them with a few swings of his axe. You tried to keep up with him, but as a healer, your combat skills were lacking, evident in your reliance on the soldiers for protection as you dodged Shao’s attacks. Bi-Han had heard stories about Shao in the past, tales of his power and mercilessness in battle. But now, witnessing Shao’s sadistic enjoyment as he toyed with you, seeing the fear in your eyes, filled Bi-Han with fury and a desire to eliminate Shao.

‘‘Don’t harm her!’’ Shang Tsung intervened, hurling a fireball towards Shao, catching him off guard and forcing him back. “She is my daughter.”

Shao spat on the ground, unaffected by the smoke left behind by the fireball he countered with the tip of his huge axe. “And she betrayed us,” he growled. “You just proclaimed that we would eliminate those who oppose us, sorcerer. That’s precisely what I intend to do.”

As Shao swung his axe again, you pushed the last remaining statue in front of you for protection. However, under the force of Shao’s blow, the statue shattered, leaving a gaping wound from your shoulder to your rib cage. Crimson red blood splattered everywhere, your expression a mixture of pain and shock as you desperately tried to stay on your trembling legs. A pained groan escaped your lips as you stumbled backwards, Shao raising his axe for another strike, this time aiming for a fatal blow.

“No!” While Bi-Han was blowing off the soldier’s head he had knocked down with his foot, bloody brain pieces flew everywhere, his heart was in his mouth. He couldn’t bear to witness you lose your life before his eyes, with so little distance between you.

‘’I told you to stay away from my daughter.’’

In a stroke of luck, Shang Tsung once again caught Shao off guard with a barrage of fireballs, diverting his attention away from you at the last moment. Shao was thrown several meters away, gasping for breath, while Shang grasped you firmly, applying pressure to your wound. Your body tensed with pain, tears flowing freely from your eyes as you struggled to maintain a brave face.

‘’You will bandage this as soon as you get away from here. Do you understand?’’

‘‘Father-’’

‘’Do you understand?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘‘Good, I’ll buy you time,’’ Shang Tsung urged, motioning for you to leave. ‘‘Take a few of the statues with you; they’ll provide protection until you’re out of here. I’ll find you once I’ve dealt with this.’’

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you managed to press a small, wet kiss to your father’s cheek, gratitude evident in your pale, tired face.

‘‘I’ll explain everything.’’

‘‘Later. Go now,’’ he insisted.

Bi-Han brutally incapacitated the last soldier before reaching you in a few wide strides. Shang’s gaze fixed on him for the first time since his arrival, promising death with its intensity.

“You’d better take care of my daughter, grandmaster. Otherwise, I’ll follow your soul to the Netherrealm,’’ warned Shang Tsung with a menacing tone.

‘‘I will protect her with my life.’’ Bi-Han asserted, though his agreement with his recent foe felt tenuous, the situation now imbued with personal stakes. Shang promptly removed the handcuffs from both him and his brother’s wrists, freeing them.

‘‘Go on quickly. The others will be here soon, so hurry up. My daughter will take you a shortcut.’’ directed sorcerer.

As Shao charged toward them, Bi-Han scooped you up into his arms, finding relief in having you close again. With urgency, he ran alongside Kuai Liang, ascending the steps and leaving the area behind. With your remaining strength, you compelled a dozen soldiers to follow, your hand still applying pressure to the wound. Upon reaching the corridor they had passed earlier, you weakly tugged at Bi-Han’s clothes to get his attention.

‘‘We can’t escape through the main exit, it’s too risky. There’s a passageway from behind the fortress leading towards the mountains; we can slip through unnoticed.’’ you suggested.

‘‘Tomas is out, we can’t leave him here.’’ His brother interjected.

‘‘Exactly where, I can use one of these statues to find and contact him.’’

‘‘He is where the Soul Stealers are.’’

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, sweat beading on your forehead as your skin paled. Despite the obvious pain, you maintained a resolute expression. As they reached a narrow area, your faint voice reached their ears.

‘‘I found Tomas. I’m getting him out through a different exit; it’s too risky for him to come this way.’’

‘‘Okay, we’re counting on you,’’ Bi-Han said, hoping to give you courage. You were so small and lifeless in his arms, though he couldn’t bring himself to say it, his heart ached with painful sorrow as he looked at you. If it weren’t for the faint rise and fall of your chest, he might have feared the worst; you were losing a lot of blood. The wound must have cut deeper than he thought. Bi-Han looked into his brother’s eyes, whatever expression there was on his face, Kuai Liang stopped walking for a moment and squeezed his shoulder, looking at him with understanding eyes.

‘‘We will save her, brother, don’t worry. She’ll be okay,’’ Kuai Liang reassured, and they proceeded to a small room at the end of the corridor. A statue opened the thick old door, revealing a landscape of snow-covered mountains.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

It was already dark when they met Tomas a little beyond the fortress, at the bottom of a frozen river. After you spent the rest of your strength to bring Tomas to them, you fell unconscious, Bi-Han had to hastily bandaged you because he knew he had to keep a distance between them and the fortress in case of getting caught. And when they decided to spend the night in a place that he believed was safe, he didn’t let you leave his side for a moment, even though he was with his brothers and they were safe for now. Tomas had left a short while ago to hunt some mountain hares for food, while Kuai Liang went out to gather supplies to sustain the fire he had kindled.

Bi-Han carefully cleaned the wound with the materials he had and bandaged it tightly. Your bleeding was still going on, but it wasn’t intense compared to the beginning, as long as you weren’t moving, it could buy time until he could get you home. But you would definitely have needed stitches in your wound.

‘’I can heal myself.’’ you muttered softly. Bi-Han didn’t even realize he had said the last part aloud, too focused on gently stroking your pale cheek with one hand while carefully examining you.

‘’How do you feel?’’

‘’Not at my best, but I’ll be fine.’’ You weakly replied. Even if you wanted to reciprocate the gesture by lifting your hand, which was resting on your lap, it was quite difficult for you to do so. Bi-Han noticed this, grabbed your hand, and guided it to his cheek, allowing you to caress it. ‘’Thank to gods, you look well. The others-’’

‘‘We’re all fine except you, don’t worry. You almost died.’’ The last part poured from his lips with great hatred, it felt terrible even to say it. He hated the blood on his hands even more. Seeing you in such a state filled Bi-Han with a profound sense of helplessness. He feared the worst, and it was the most intense fear he had ever experienced. Even now, it lingered in his mouth like a bad taste, causing a churning sensation in his stomach. His entire body felt ice-cold with stress, his instincts had gone into hyperawareness.

‘’It just grazed, it doesn’t even hurt. I swear.’’

"If it had cut deeper, you could have lost your arm as well as your life. It does not suit you to lie, (y/n). I still don't understand how you could be Shang Tsung's daughter."

‘’Are you angry?’’ As your voice quivered with uncertainty, Bi-Han tenderly placed a kiss on the top of your head, offering silent reassurance before you found the courage to speak again. ‘’It’s just… My father is a difficult man and kind of has a bad reputation. People are ready to attack him given the chance. I didn’t mean to hide it from you; I was just afraid you’d leave me once you knew the truth. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

‘’You think a sorcerer can intimidate me?” A small smile appeared on his lips as he continued to caress your cheek. After hearing your confession, he wanted nothing more than to reassure you and dismiss your fear. “I’m just confused and angry with myself for not seeing the signs earlier,” he said honestly. “I almost lost you, and besides that, nothing else matters.” While he continued to stroke your cheek with one hand, he didn’t break eye contact with you for a moment. He needed you to know that he was sincere in what he was about to say. “Today has been an important day for me to realize some things.”

Thanks to the heat emitted by the camp flame, he could easily discern your facial features. Despite the weariness evident in your eyes, there was a twinkle that betrayed your curiosity about what he had to say. Leaning in a little more, he shifted his body closer to yours, positioning you between his legs as he sat leaning against a tree. With a gentle touch, he lowered his hand from your cheek to your chin, lifting it slightly to plant a small, tender kiss on your lips.

With his cold breath mingling with your warmth, he whispered softly, “I love you.”

Caught off guard, you gazed up at him with wide, teary eyes, a breath catching in your throat. As a tear traced a soft path down your cheek, Bi-Han gently caught it with the tip of his finger, his own eyes filled with concern. Then, with the warmest and most sincere smile he had ever seen, you planted a kiss on his cheek.

‘’I’ve dreamed of this a few times, but I never thought you would express it.’’

‘‘Is that why you’re crying? If you’re hiding the truth about your shoulder causing pain-’’

‘‘I’m crying with happiness, my love. Now give me one more kiss so that I can believe in you better.’’

Bi-Han couldn’t help the smile settling on his face.

‘’As you wish.’’

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yeetmeoffjueyunkarst · 8 months

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In another universe.

Mistakes were made, forces drove you two apart. But every night, where their greatest desires come alive, they would wish desperately you were still with them.

ft angst w various characters

part 2 here

In that universe, they weren't afraid to love loudly.

They were hurt by those who they loved, being behind nothing but the ashes of their past selves.

Once hot and passionate with love, their flame was now burned to a crisp, no trace of affection left.

But you came with that spark, the one chance for their heart to reignite with love and affection.

They cursed themselves fools for not realising the warmth and brightness. you brought into their lives.

And by the time they realised it. You were already gone, your flame burning in the distance, where they could never feel your warmth again.

Xiao, Diluc, Sara, Rosaria,

In that universe, they would have done anything to protect you.

You don't understand what you meant to them. You never did. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes. Everything about you, they worshipped, even more than their own beliefs, their own values, their own Archons and Gods.

You weren't just a friend to them. You were a lover, a safe space, a protector, a healer, a fighter, and more to them.

You were everything.

How were they supposed to move on when everything was robbed, snatched away from them like a thief who stole? Robbers who plundered everything good from you, and left you an empty shell?

How could they forget everything that they went through with you? You were always with them, they couldn't bear the grief.

If the power of Hydro was to take any shape, then please, take the shape of you, so that they could pretend.

Or perhaps, take them. Take them with you. They can't feel anything if you weren't there.

Lyney, Lynette, Freminet, Yae Miko, Kokomi.

In that universe, they were free to love you.

No judgement from society, parents, peers. None of that. In that world, everyone would be supportive of your ties with them. Everyone would have loved the both of you together.

There's no restrictions from loving you. No responsibilities, no barriers, no obstacles to your love.

You two couldn't be separated. Never.

So why? Why is someone else beside them in the bed where you should be? Why is someone else taking up all the space that was rightfully yours?

Why weren't you beside them?

Where were you?

When did you go?

Who drove you away?

What happened?

Those questions would haunt them for the rest of their nights.

Jean, Lisa, Venti, Kaeya

In that universe, your beliefs would have aligned.

Don't get them wrong. They do love you dearly. So much, oh so much.

But one of the few things you can't change of them is their own personality. It's what makes them who they are.

There are simply some things they cannot give up, even with you on the line.

And they have let you go for it.

Somewhere along the line, when they see you happy with someone, someone who's not them. They regret.

They spend nights trying to remember the taste of your lips. The warmth of your embrace. The peasant feeling in their chest when you whisper 'I love you'.

Such is the price to pay for keeping their own beliefs.

Even though they wish you were the right one.

This is the price of going against the flow.

Ei, Keqing, Itto, Heizou,

In that universe, their dreams and desire for knowledge you accepted.

when they were young, they had simple hopes and desires

You laughed and thought of it foolish.

They despaired as you mocked their ambitions and dreams.

Now, you regret.

Regret putting down the innocent dreams and hopes of the ones you loved.

Now, it is your turn to dream. Dream, an endless dream where you could redo everything, correct your mistakes, set your path to the right path that still had them in your lives.

You will not be rewarded. They have made their dreams into reality.

Yours remains a dream, never fulfilled.

Tighnari, Amber, Xiangling, Nilou

In that universe, that answer was always you.

No second guessing, no other obligations, no need to choose between two. You were the only option, the only one that mattered.

Do I stay with you in temporary bliss, or should I choose to never be near you, lest I hurt you?

Do I kill you, or do I let you live?

Do I wish you all the best, or do I wish it never works out?

Do I approach you, or do I not?

Their minds consumed with the thought of making the right choice, they never thought of what made them happy.

You.

Life was too short to second guess too long.

Ganyu, Sucrose, Shenhe,

In that universe, they had no responsibilities.

No chains to tie them down. No contracts to hold them down. Nothing weighing down on them.

The both of you could love each other, without worrying about responsibilities, And even if there were any, so what? They won't clash, they won't affect your relationship with each other.

The both of you won't be on opposite sides, duty-bound to the faction that you were in.

The both of you didn't had to sneak about to keep the love alive, to keep the affections hidden.

One party didn't had to choose their duty over you, because you were their greatest duty.

In that universe, there was no responsibilities, other than loving each other.

Zhongli, Childe, Ningguang, Neuvillette,

In that sweet universe, the both of you existed at the same time. The stars aligned. The both of you drawn to each other like 2 magnets, perfectly fitted each other like a lock and a key, and always sticked together like bacons and eggs.

In another universe.

thought of it randomly. I did my best to fit the characters into each category.

Cheers, J

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hitohitonika · 4 months

Text

Thinking thoughts about how Zoro was seen literally as the devil, a blood thirsty monster that terrorized the East Blue... in reality, he was just surviving, alone, hunting pirates instead of harming civilians, but no one saw past his reputation.

Except when Luffy crossed paths with him, and yes, he complimented his strength, but he also acknowledged Zoro was more than just violence. He told Zoro he was a good person. Something he had probably never heard.

And he was stunned someone saw his fighting spirit as ambition and the pursuit of a dream and a promise, not just as mindless violence and sadism.

Because that's what Luffy is, hope and comfort that you are good and your dreams are at the reach of your hand and the opinions of others don't matter if you live without regrets and in freedom.

#thoughts thoughts thoughts #one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #zoro #zolu

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 4 months

Text

Love and Liabilities: Chapter Two (Agatha Harkness/Fem!Reader)

Summary: The weekend before your last year of law schools begins, you celebrate the end of your summer associate position, where you meet an intriguing woman at the bar.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, dirty talk, light degradation kink

A/N: Hello! I’ll be in rehearsals this weekend so I’m updating a few days early. This chapter, as well as the next few, will be set in the past and marked accordingly. Thank you so much to everyone who read chapter one, I’m so glad you enjoyed it! If you’d like to be added to the tag-list let me know. As always, I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think. 🩵

Tag-List: @aggieslittleslut @gilmorelivie @ris-ris-mind @sabstance-blog

Ten Years Prior

There was something so enticing about law school. Every attorney you ever met would warn you not to pursue law. It was their biggest regret, they would bemoan, and share horror stories of mountain high piles of readings and difficult exams that would slowly weed out the unworthy. The hundreds of thousands of dollars you would invest that wouldn’t guarantee you to pass the ever dreaded Bar Exam. The world of law was much like a game of cat and mouse; with the law student being the meek mouse and the demanding law professors and your fellow students as the prowling cats. Despite the many, many, many warnings, you ignored them.

You were the first person in your family to decide you wanted to be an attorney, so you were shocked to learn the vast majority of your classmates already had major ins to some of the top law firms in the country. It didn’t seem to matter that you received a top LSAT score, or that you were also accepted into one of the top law schools in the country, just like them. None of that mattered, you were already hundreds of steps behind everyone else. So, you conditioned yourself to work even harder. Endless hours of studying in the library, attending every office hour your professors would offer, taking any opportunity you could to network with any attorney who would reply to you on LinkedIn.

There was an even more alluring pull for you to get into corporate law, or “Big Law.” It wasn’t just the temptingly sky-high salary, or the perks that came with working for a major firm, it was the reputation. The attorneys who worked in corporate law were practically guaranteed a job in whatever other field or firm they wanted to move to next, due to the prestigious reputation they’d previously acquired. Unfortunately, you were competing against the majority of your classmates, most of whom had those direct family connections. Your ambition would always get the better of you, as it merely made you work even harder.

Eventually it paid off, as you received a summer associate position at the end of your second year at the top corporate law firm in Manhattan, Stark & Strange. You spent your summer working alongside some of the more powerful attorneys in the industry, and received paychecks that were larger than anything you had ever seen prior. The firm paid for an Uber Black to take you to and from your shoebox law school apartment, and even gave you a free gym membership. Practically every meal was comped, as you were wined and dined at restaurants where the bill cost more than your rent. It was a foreign world to you, the grueling hours made up for by designer handbags and any luxury you never dreamed of being able to afford, especially not on a summer associate’s salary.

You made a point to stay as late as they needed, and always volunteered to assist various attorneys with whatever work they needed done. Most of it was grunt work, like looking over a contract for typos, or printing hundreds of documents, but you soaked everything up like a sponge. Despite the many hours you spent at the firm, you hardly ever saw the men whose names were on the building, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange. But, you were making good connections with a few of the other attorneys.

Maria Hill, one of the senior attorneys, usually requested for you to assist her on projects. She was only slightly terrifying, and practically ran the firm like the Navy. But, she was extremely knowledgeable and always made a point to introduce you to anyone she deemed important enough. Towards the end of the summer you were working on a tedious editing assignment from one of the junior attorneys, when Maria sent you an email to stop by her office before the end of the day. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as she sometimes wanted your help with a last minute deal, and she would almost always DoorDash whatever meal you wanted if you stayed long enough.

Once you finally finished your assignment, you packed up your belongings and made your way to the top floor where Maria’s office was located. Stark & Strange was a towering skyscraper in the center of Manhattan. Even though you were in a smaller office with a few of the other summer associates, you still had a breathtaking view of the skyline. Many called the design a waste of time and money, but those people clearly never met Tony Stark. No expense was spared when designing the project, and Maria told you it took over a decade to complete. But, when you’re a multimillionaire attorney, money was but a mere object. The hallways were becoming more familiar as the weeks passed, and it was a bittersweet feeling when you remembered your time was almost up.

The door to Maria’s office was slightly ajar, but you still knocked and waited for her curt response for you to enter. She was sitting at her desk, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, glasses hanging low on her face as she appeared to be typing. Her office was one of your favorites, it was so open and had a comfortable atmosphere. She had a variety of plants placed throughout the room, and you figured she must have a green thumb, but her paralegal once quietly shared how Maria often committed one of the worst sins of gardening…overwatering. You awkwardly stood near the doorway, contemplating if you should come back when she appeared to be less busy.

As if she sensed your hesitation, she gently shut her laptop, and placed her glasses on the desk, looking up at you. “Sorry about that, Stephen needed a contract updated before tonight.” She motioned to an empty chair. “Come, sit.”

Taking a seat, you nervously folded your hands across your lap, setting your bag on the ground next to your feet. “So, you wanted to see me?”

“I did,” Maria confirmed, giving you a curious glance. “Your last day is tomorrow, right?”

You nodded, and felt a twinge of sadness at the thought. “My first day of classes is next Monday.”

Maria hummed, a thoughtful appearance on her face. “This is your last year of school?”

“Yes ma’am,” You replied, unsure of why she was asking you this.

“Tony and Stephen like to take out a select group of the summer associates every year for celebratory drinks,” Maria explained, and you swore you saw her roll her eyes ever so slightly before adding, “It’s mostly an excuse for Tony to brag more about the firm, but the drinks are free, and strong.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t realize they were having another dinner. “Oh, well that sounds nice.”

Maria nodded before continuing talking. “They usually ask the senior attorneys to each invite one of the summer associates, and my pick was you.”

You felt your eyes widen, she picked you? Shaking your nerves aside, you gave her a wide smile. “Thank you so much, Ms. Hill. I’m honored.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Maria insisted, standing up and motioning for you to join her. “I know I’ve asked a lot of you this summer, but you rose to the challenge.”

Lightly blushing, you waited for her to grab her briefcase before you followed her out of the office. “I didn’t mind, I actually really enjoyed all of it.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Maria said, and she seemed sincere. “I believe Tony made the reservation for eight o’clock, but I’ll send you the details in the morning. Thank you again, I’ve appreciated your help.”

The elevator doors opened and you bid her farewell, as she went down the hallway to see if her wife was still working or was wrapping up. You could hardly believe it, sure you were sad that your summer was just about up, but you were one of the few associates selected for a special night out with all of the top attorneys and partners. A few of your classmates told you the partners would occasionally extend job offers to the top performing summer associates for when they graduated and passed The Bar, but you knew there was a slim chance of that happening to you.

Your last day flew by. You weren’t assigned much actual “work”, instead you spent most of the day chatting with the other summer associates and a few of the junior attorneys. Before you knew it, you were signing out for the last time, and handing in your key card and laptop on your way out. Maria had her paralegal forward you all the details, the bar they selected was yet another establishment you normally wouldn’t be able to afford, The Raines Law Room at The William Hotel. One of your roommates went there once with her parents, and gushed about how pretty and unique the space was, so you were excited to see it for yourself. The firm had allotted you one more Uber on their card, and you fully intended to use it.

The drive was surprisingly short, as traffic was relatively light for a Friday night. You sent your roommates a text reminding them that you’d be out late, before focusing your attention out the window. It had almost been three years since you moved to New York for law school, against your parents wishes, and you were still in awe of it. Yes, it was filthy, and there were rats and cockroaches galore, but every major city was dirty. New York was full of history and culture; there were thousands of places to explore, and millions of other people who were trying to find where they fit into this beautiful, messy story. You couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

You arrived at the bar just before eight, you had a habit of needing to be early for every social function you attended. The Raines Law Room was everything your roommate described, and even more so in person. It wasn’t the usual type of bar you’d go to, and it was broken up into multiple rooms with the actual bar in the center of it all. Many of the rooms were furnished with bookcases and cozy, expensive furniture that reminded you of a library. It didn’t take you long to find your group, as Tony had apparently rented one of the private rooms. There were only around twenty people in attendance, Maria wasn’t kidding when she told you it would be a small gathering. You recognized two of the other associates who had been invited, Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova, and you gave them a friendly wave.

Maria was in the corner of the room, sitting on one of the couches with her wife, Natasha Romanov. You’d only briefly encountered the redhead, as she did a lot of international travel for the firm. They were speaking with Tony Stark, the latter who appeared to be at the end of telling a very animated story. Maria noticed you lingering, and waved you over once Tony finished talking. You awkwardly made your way over, trying not to trip in the process; you’d always been terribly clumsy. There was an empty spot next to Maria, so you took a seat.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Maria warmly greeted you. “Do you remember my wife, Natasha?”

“Of course, it’s great to see you again,” You said to the woman sitting on the other side of Maria.

Natasha offered you a small smile, wrapping her arm around Maria’s shoulder. “Maria’s been telling me all summer how much of a help you’ve been, and believe me, she doesn’t praise just anyone.”

Maria nudged Natasha’s shoulder. “That’s not true, I just have high expectations, unlike someone.”

Natasha playfully rolled her eyes. “Right, of course dear.” She turned to Tony, who was scrolling through his phone. “Have you met Maria’s young mentee, Stark?”

He looked up at the mention of his name, and his eyes landed on you. “Oh right, I remember you. Maria’s been raving about you for the past few months, and Natasha’s right, that’s a pretty rare occurrence for her.”

Maria glared at him, clearly unamused. “Funny as always, Tony.”

Sticking out his hand, you took it and gave it a firm shake. “Thank you so much for the opportunity this summer, Mr. Stark. I’ve learned so much.”

Tony waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t mention it. Have you met my other platonic, legal half? He’s probably lurking around here somewhere.”

“Most likely avoiding you,” Natasha quipped to Tony, her eyes scanning the room. “Looks like he’s over by my sister.”

Her sister? You turned your head to look around the room, until you saw Stephen lightly conversing with Yelena. You didn’t realize she was Natasha’s sister, and Natasha seemed to note your confusion.

“Yelena doesn’t like people to know we’re related,” Natasha explained, her tone more gentle as her eyes were locked on her sister. “She thinks people will say she only got the position because I work here.”

“Well she’s not entirely wrong,” Tony offered, ignoring the glare Natasha gave him, before wildly waving his arms to get Stephen’s attention. It didn’t take long for Stephen to notice, and you watched him frown.

“Did you need something, Tony?” Stephen questioned, annoyance clear by his tone.

“Well you keep lecturing me on not offering the summer associates jobs without you being present,” Tony pointed out, “God forbid I have any fun.”

“I only told you that because you once tried to convince half of them they could only have the job if they signed a contract saying they could only refer to you as their Overlord,” Stephen pointed out, and Natasha briefly snickered before Maria shot her a disapproving look.

“It was a joke!” Tony exclaimed, pointing at you. “Back me up here, if I told you that, you would know I was joking, right?”

“Um…” You trailed off, your brain replaying what he had just said to Stephen about jobs. “I’d probably have to read the contract first.”

Tony sighed, “The world isn’t what it used to be. Fine then, Strange, you’re up.”

Stephen sat down next to Tony, and just like the latter did, he stuck his hand out for you to shake. “It’s nice to formally meet you. Maria’s kept us up to date on all the work you’ve been completing. How have you enjoyed your summer at the firm?”

“It’s been the most wonderful opportunity,” You raved, wondering if this conversation was heading where you desperately hoped it was. “I’m so grateful for everything I’ve learned.”

Stephen nodded, “We’re always happy to see our summer associates take the opportunity to use all of the resources we have available. Now, at the end of every summer, we like to ask our senior attorneys if they would like to refer anyone for a job. Maria, as well as a handful of others, all recommended you.”

Your brain short circuited, not quite believing what you were hearing. “You’re offering me a job?”

“We’d like to invite you to join the firm as a junior associate once you’ve graduated and passed The Bar,” Stephen continued, and you felt faint. “It’s a written offer that we can send to you on Monday morning.”

“That you’ll have one of the paralegals email out on Monday morning,” Tony corrected him before looking back to you. “What do you say? Do you want to join the greatest firm in the city? The salary is competitive, of course. Full benefits and all.”

Natasha snickered again, only this time Maria didn’t try to stop her, and you remembered how Maria mentioned Tony liked to take this time to brag. There were so many emotions swirling around in your head, but you were mostly in shock.

Stephen seemed to notice you were overwhelmed. “You can take the weekend to think it over, and take a look at the offer on Monday. I’m sure this is a lot to take in all at once.”

You nodded, grateful for that. “Thank you so much, Mr. Strange, Mr. Stark. I’m so thankful for the opportunity.”

“We’ll talk on Monday,” Tony reiterated, standing up, and practically dragged Stephen with him. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you so much,” You acknowledged Maria, who had been quietly conversing with Natasha. “I honestly can’t believe this is really happening.”

“You deserve it,” Maria insisted, relaxing ever so slightly against Natasha. “Congratulations, and I hope we’ll be working together again next summer.”

“You’re getting soft in your old age,” Natasha lightly teased her wife, giving you a wink. “Congratulations, and good luck on your final year of school.”

You thanked them both for a final time, before letting them have some privacy. There were still so many thoughts rushing through your brain, and the room was so bright and so loud, you needed to clear your head. As you started walking out of the room, you entered the main bar and decided that you didn’t need to clear your head, you needed a drink. The bar was fairly quiet, with a few patrons scattered throughout the room. You made your way to an empty stool, and waited for the bartender to finish making a drink before you ordered a vodka tonic.

There was hardly anyone else sitting at the bar, except for a woman a few stools down from you. She had dark brown hair, tucked behind her ears, and she was sipping on a glass of some variety of red wine. From a quick glance, you could see she was reading something on her phone, and you watched the frown lines on her forehead deepen every so often as she continued to scroll. The bartender came back with your drink, and you thanked him before taking a small sip.

“Come here often?” An unfamiliar voice asked, and you curiously turned your head to find the woman a few stools down was now staring at you.

“I beg your pardon?” You replied in confusion, wondering if she was talking to you.

The woman arched an eyebrow at you, and you felt your cheeks flush under her heated gaze. She stayed in her seat, but her eyes remained locked on yours. “Some people would call that a pick up line, but not you apparently.”

“Do you often hit on strangers in a bar?” You questioned, watching her take a sip of her wine.

“Well if you came and sat next to me, you wouldn’t be much of a stranger,” The woman countered, and patted the bar stool next to her.

This was crazy, you reasoned with yourself. This woman could be a lunatic, or a serial killer. But she was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher, and her eyes were so blue that you could feel yourself slowly getting lost in them. Before you fully realized what you were doing, you scooted over until you were sitting next to her. Her red lips turned up in a smirk, and she shut her phone off, placing it in her bag. There was something so intriguing about her, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“So what brings a pretty little thing like yourself here on a Friday night?” She asked curiously, her eyes hungrily searching yours, and you could feel your cheeks begin to darken at her words. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you the way she was.

“Um, I’m here for a work event,” You said quietly, unsure of how much information you were willing to share with a stranger. “An internship event, rather. What about you?”

The woman nodded, taking another sip of wine. “Mmm, this and that. I’m staying at The William for a few nights while my place gets redecorated,” There was a sparkling glint in her eyes as she added, “And there’s a rather spectacular view of the city from my room.”

The color deepened in your cheeks, and you chose to take a rather large sip of your drink. “Oh, that’s…interesting.”

“Isn’t it though,” The woman agreed, and you watched her fingers lightly twirl around the glass in her hand. “I never got your name, darling.”

“You didn’t ask,” You pointed out, and she smirked at you.

“Feisty thing, aren’t you?” She guessed, gracefully scooting her stool closer to yours, looking at you expectantly.

There was something so addictive about the way she was staring at you, and it made you lower your guard as you told her your name. She let out another low hum, and repeated it back to you, saying it nice and slowly, drawing out each syllable. At this point, she was close enough that you could smell her perfume. The rich notes of vanilla and lavender swirled together through your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more and more distracted. Taking another large sip of your drink, you realized it was nearly empty. The woman also seemed to notice, as she waved the bartender over.

“What are you drinking, dear?” She asked, her voice sweet like honey.

“A vodka tonic,” You replied, and she slid your empty glass towards the bartender.

“Another one of those, please, as well as a Pinot Noir. Put her drinks on my tab,” She instructed the bartender, ignoring your protest that you could pay for your own drinks.

“Don’t be silly,” She gently chided you, one of her hands moving up to brush your hair out of your face. “You have gorgeous eyes, has anyone ever told you that?”

Every compliment was leaving you more flustered than the last, and you had no idea how she was having this strong of an effect on you. It was the alcohol, your brain reasoned, that had to be it. “No, not really,” You replied, your voice growing more timid.

The woman let out a disapproving tsk, her fingers lingering on your face before slowly pulling away. “Disappointing, but not surprising.”

The bartender returned at that moment with your drinks, and you mumbled a quiet thank you, hoping this would give you some liquid courage. You realized at that moment she never told you her name.

Clearing your throat, you did your best not to sound as intimated as you were. She was this beautiful, sort of menacing, and slightly strange woman. You didn’t want to humiliate yourself. “You know, for someone who hounded me for my name, it’s a little odd you never told me yours.”

The woman smirked again, and you thought you saw her lick her lips. “You never asked, dear,” she pointed out, and her fingers reached out to lightly brush yours. “I’m Agnes.”

Her touch, light as it was, felt like a shock of electricity coursing through your system. You kept waiting for her to let go of your hand, but instead she gently turned it so your palm was visible, and began tracing patterns on it as she sipped her wine.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agnes,” You said, your courage slowly disappearing, and you weren’t sure what it was that you wanted from her, you just knew you didn’t want her to stop touching you.

Agnes laughed, the rich sound ringing deliciously in your ears. “Believe me, honey, the pleasure is all mine.”

The hand stroking your palm began to make its way up your arm, and you were embarrassed by the goosebumps you felt by having her hands on you. Agnes also seemed to notice this reaction, and she was looking as if she wanted to eat you alive. She leaned in closer to you, her breath hot on your ear as she whispered, “I don’t normally do this, but I’d love to continue this discussion in my hotel room. Would you care to join me?”

It would seem tonight was just full of surprises. Her face was so close to yours, and your brain was still actively short circuiting. You’d barely spent any time with this woman, and you only knew her first name, but it didn’t matter. It was clear what this was, a one night stand. This didn’t have to mean anything, and you were riding a high from your job offer; you didn’t want it to mean anything. All you knew was that her breath was hot in your ear, and her fingers were lightly gripping your arm, and you wanted more. No, you needed more. You needed her.

Fearing you wouldn’t be able to produce any actual words, you wordlessly nodded in agreement. Agnes proceeded to close out her tab, and you made a quick note of the Black AmEx card the bartender returned to her. She guided you out of the room, her hand grazing your lower back. You felt like you were floating, and the only thing grounding you to reality was the feel of her fingers stroking your back, slowly moving lower with every step you took.

Upon reaching the elevators, Agnes waited for you to enter before following, and pressed the button for her floor. As soon as the doors closed, it was as if a switch went off. Her hands were all over you, and within a moment you were against the wall of the elevator. While her right hand stayed pressed against your back, moving down to grab at your ass, her left moved up to gently cup your cheek, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes began to darken with arousal, and before you could even process what was happening she kissed you.

You’d been kissed before, and you thought you knew how good it could be, but that was nothing compared to the feel of her lips against yours. She kissed you with fervor, like a woman starving and you were her salvation. Her lips were so soft and smooth against your own, it was addictive. As she lightly slapped your ass, bringing you impossibly closer to her, you let out a moan and she took that opportunity to slip her tongue between your lips. She tasted faintly of Pinot Noir, and you eagerly allowed her to dominate your mouth. Her hips jutted against yours, creating just enough friction for you to imagine how much better it would feel to have more.

The elevator dinged, signaling you were at her floor, and she reluctantly broke your kiss. You let out a quiet whine and Agnes chuckled, leaning in to whisper, “Patience, honey. My room is right down the hallway.”

She nearly had to drag you along, as your legs were starting to shake, and the walk to her room seemed endless. When you finally reached it, she hurriedly tapped her keycard to unlock the door. Yanking you inside, she slammed your back against the door, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Wasting no time, she began messing with the clasp of your dress, and as it became undone she helped you out of it, leaving you in your bra and panties. The older woman let out a low growl, and pulled you flush against her. Moving you towards the bed, she nearly tore your bra and panties off in the process, before laying you flat on your back.

She straddled your hips, and when you attempted to move your hands up to her waist she swatted them back down. “Be a good girl and behave,” Agnes warned lightly. “I’d hate to have to restrain you.”

You couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips at that threat. Agnes smirked again, taking her shirt off and tossing it across the room, revealing a lacy dark purple bra. She leaned down and kissed you again, lightly biting your lower lip, causing you to groan into her mouth. It felt like she was all around you, but you needed more. You always prided yourself on your patience, but you were quickly losing it. Her lips left yours to trail down your jaw and the side of your neck, stopping near your collarbone. She began to leave hot, wet kisses along it, before biting down on the flesh at the base of your neck and sucking.

“Fuck,” You cried out at the sensation, and you heard her let out a low hum in response, keeping up her ministrations.

She left dozens of marks on you, and you were too lost in the haze of how good she felt to remember you were starting classes in two days. Her hands were relentless, moving all over your body. As her lips began to alternate attention between your breasts, her right hand moved between your thighs, and you both moaned as she felt how wet you were.

“Is all this for me, baby?” She murmured, raising her head up to yours, using two fingers to lightly tease your aching pussy. “What a pretty girl, dripping for me.”

Moaning, you arched your hips up, she was so close and you needed her fingers inside, filling you. “Please, Agnes.”

Letting out a low tutting noise, she pulled her fingers back. You whined, louder this time, and her responding grin sent a shiver down your spine. “Please what, honey? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” You begged, desperate to feel her fingers on you again. “Please, fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Agnes praised you, roughly thrusting two fingers inside you, going deeper than you normally could on your own.

Her fingers were so long, and so good, as she set a fast pace, twisting and hitting all of the sweet spots in you. You could barely breathe, all you could focus on was how good it felt to have her fucking you. Her thumb rubbed gentle circles on your clit, and the added stimulation made you cry out. You were soaked, the movement of her fingers taking you created an obscenely filthy sound that filled the room. It didn’t take long until you felt a familiar unraveling, signaling you were close to orgasming.

“Such a good little whore, you’re taking me so well,” Agnes cooed and you felt yourself clench at her words. “Do you like this? Do you like having me fuck your tight little cunt?”

“Oh my fucking-” You cried out, but were cut off as she chose that moment to add a third finger, expertly curling them and bringing you that much closer to your release.

“That’s it, slut,” Agnes growled, fucking you even harder. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good around my fingers.”

“Agnes, please,” You whined, needing to feel yourself come undone. “Please I need…”

Agnes smirked, not relenting in her efforts, and began to leave kisses around the edge of your mouth. “What do you need, baby? Use your words for me.”

“Need to come, please. I need to come,” You babbled, as she took you higher and higher with every thrust of her fingers, and your words caused the older woman to groan.

“Come on my fingers, sweetheart,” Agnes ordered, and you felt yourself lose focus as the pleasure overcame you.

It was mind numbingly good, and you barely recognized the scream that left your throat. All you could feel were her fingers inside you, gently coaxing you through your orgasm. Her fingers slowly stilled, and you felt yourself pulse around them as her thumb gently eased off your clit. Pressing a sweet, slow kiss against your lips, Agnes pulled her fingers out, causing you to whine at how empty you felt.

“You took me so well,” Agnes purred, and you felt yourself drip even more at her words. “Such a slutty little pussy, you can’t even form complete sentences when I’m fucking you.”

You groaned, the filth spewing out of her mouth was a major turn on for you. “It’s not my fault you’re turning my brain into mush.”

Agnes fake pouted at you. “Oh, poor baby,” She mocked, pressing her hips against yours. “It’s a good thing you don’t need to use that little brain while I’m fucking you.”

“Want to taste you,” You moaned out, the idea just popping into your head. “Please.”

“Oh? You want to eat me out, baby?” Agnes questioned, her eyes growing darker yet still from arousal. “Do you want me to ride that pretty little face?”

“Fuck yes,” You begged, causing Agnes to chuckle before taking off her pants and panties, and moving you closer to the headboard before she straddled your face.

You could smell her; the scent was musky and sweet and you were salivating, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. Agnes rested one hand on the headboard and the other in your hair, slowly lowering herself onto your mouth. You wasted no time, licking and sucking, tasting her arousal. The guttural moan she let out spurred you on, eager to please her. She tasted so fucking good, and your tongue lapped up as much of her as you could. Her fingers tightened in your hair as she began to rock against your face, and you moaned against her as she roughly tugged.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, baby,” Agnes panted as she moved her hips faster. “You’re doing so well. Such a good job. Suck on my clit.”

Ever hoping to please her, you switched to swirling your tongue around her clit before sucking, hard. The moan she let out, louder than before, was entrancing. Her fingers kept your head in place as she rode your face, and you could sense her getting closer to the edge. Your tongue teased her entrance, slowly pushing inside and Agnes let out a loud hiss, encouraging you to go deeper.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck,” Agnes began to grind down, getting closer with every thrust of your tongue. “Such a sweet fucking mouth. Do you want me to come all over that pretty face?”

Nodding against her, you sucked and licked, thoroughly enjoying being used by her. It wasn’t long before she began to shudder, hips thrusting even harder against your face as she let herself go. She tugged on your head as she lost herself in the throes of pleasure, and you never saw something quite so beautiful. Her eyes were closed, head back as she let out several loud grunts, the sound causing you to twitch. You moaned at the taste of her cum, eager to get as much as you could. Her hips slowly stopped, and she gave herself a moment before lifting herself off of you, collapsing on the bed. She immediately pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you. Her body was flush against yours, and you relished at the feeling of her tits pressed against your back. She was so soft, and so warm; every part of her felt like heaven to you.

She began to nuzzle your neck, pressing gentle kisses against your skin. “Fuck that was so good. Thank you, honey.”

“It was my pleasure,” You drawled out, growing more tired with every word you spoke, slowly feeling yourself drift off.

Agnes murmured something to you, but you were too far gone to hear what she said. The last thing you remembered was the feel of her body curled up around you as you finally passed out from exhaustion. You weren’t sure how long you slept, for when you finally woke up the room was filled with bright sunlight, causing you to wince. It didn’t take you long to realize you were alone, and the already large bed felt ten sizes too big. A part of you wondered if Agnes was in the bathroom, but when you eventually made it out of bed you realized she was gone. The room was completely empty, save for you and your clothes from last night.

You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected, it was a one night stand after all. But, you had assumed she would at least still be there in the morning when you woke up. Shaking those thoughts aside, you rushed to pick up your clothes and get dressed. As you were putting on your clothes, you noticed a small folded up note with your name on it on the bedside table. You slipped your heels back on before grabbing it, and was slightly disappointed to see how short it was.

Thanks again for a great night. -A

Well, at least she left you something. You crumpled the note and stuck it in your purse, leaving the room without a second thought. The next two days were spent in a daze, trying to get everything ready for the start of classes. Your roommates were thrilled to hear about your job offer, and even more intrigued to hear of your night out with an older woman. You kept the details to a minimum, as you always kept those things more private, but they enjoyed it nonetheless. By the time Sunday night rolled around you were absolutely spent. You had just finished marking up your planner for the next few weeks with your class schedule, and double checked the time for your first class as you set your alarm for bed before finally drifting to sleep.

Unfortunately, the exhaustion from the last few days made you sleep through your alarms, which almost never happened. But, after hearing your alarms go off one after another, one of your roommates came to check on you, the knocking on your door sent you shooting out of bed. You rushed through the apartment, throwing your laptop and books in your bag. As you were getting dressed, your eyes landed on the hickeys all over your neck, and you groaned. Great. Despite it still being summer, and extremely hot in the city, you wore a lightweight turtleneck. The lecture halls and library were usually freezing, so this wouldn’t seem too out of place to anyone.

Luckily your apartment was only a few blocks away from campus, and it never took you more than ten minutes to get there. You kept obsessively checking your watch, hoping to make it to your first class in time. Finally, you reached the correct building, and pulled up the class schedule on your phone to check which room you were in. Whipping around the corner, you spotted the door at the far end of the hallway. With one minute to go, you passed other students and professors, not a thought in your mind besides making it through those doors. Reaching the lecture hall, you opened the doors and went inside.The hall was relatively full, and as you searched for an empty seat you heard your professor begin to speak.

“Welcome to Ethics and Professional Responsibility in Criminal Practice.”

Wait a second, you knew that voice. How did you know that voice? You looked up, finding the last person you ever expected to run into, and you almost fell out of your chair. Standing there on the floor of the lecture hall was a strikingly familiar woman. It was the same woman from the other night, Agnes. Her messy dark brown hair was pulled back into an updo, and she wore an expensive looking black pantsuit. She was pulling up a slideshow on the laptop, so her back was turned, but it was her. You knew it was her. The strange thing was you didn’t remember reading her first name on the syllabus that had been sent out a few weeks prior.

After she finished projecting the slideshow, she turned her focus to the crowded lecture hall. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Agatha Harkness,” Her eyes scanned the room, until they eventually landed on you, and you watched her freeze, before quickly regaining her composure. “And I’ll be your professor for the semester.”

Fuck.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #wandavision au #marvel au #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha all along #lawyer au

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muiitoloko · 1 day

Note

Hello! I love your Karl’s fic, I never knew I needed one! They did my man so wrong anyways, while reading it I got an idea I don’t know if you could work with it?

Karl’s wife left him, the second biggest love lost of his life. The first one was the girl (reader) he met when he was younger (mid 30s) and before meeting his now ex-wife, a young medicine student could be the daughter of one of his business partner or personal doctor, she was 20 and he was almost 40 so he thought better of it, he let her go, pursue her dreams and married a man her age. One day he gets really bad and she’s send to his house to help him, I don’t know I want something fluffy and happy ending for him🥹

Title: The Promise of Tomorrow

Summary: You reappear in his life in a way he didn't expect.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst and Fluffy.

Author's Notes: Hey, hello! Thank you very much for your request. I hope it is to your liking. I agree with you; our man deserves a happy ending.

Also read on Ao3

As you stand before Karl Hoffmeister, his new personal doctor, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia mingled with apprehension. The years have been kind to him, his rugged features weathered by time but still exuding an air of quiet strength and authority. It's been a long time since you last saw him, back when you were just a young medical student caught in the whirlwind of ambition and desire.

But now, as you meet his gaze, you see something flicker behind his steely exterior, a hint of vulnerability that wasn't there before. It's strange to think that this man, once so powerful and unattainable, now relies on you for his care and well-being.

Karl's eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you can't help but wonder if he remembers the intensity of the feelings you once shared. But then his gaze shifts away, and you're left to grapple with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present.

As you begin your examination, Karl's stoic facade crumbles ever so slightly, revealing the depth of his pain and loneliness. His health may be failing, but it's clear that his wounds run much deeper than the physical. And as you listen to his heart, you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man who once held your heart in his hands.

But then, just as quickly as it appeared, the vulnerability vanishes, replaced once again by Karl's trademark reserve. He thanks you curtly as you finish your examination, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of something else, something you can't quite place.

As you finished writing the prescription, you sensed Karl's gaze lingering on you. His eyes studied you with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. Ignoring the intensity of his stare, you handed him the paper, explaining the dosage and precautions he would need to take.

Karl took the prescription from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. But before you could dwell on the sensation, he spoke, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of warmth.

"You haven't changed a bit," he remarked, his gaze meeting yours as he spoke. "Still as confident and composed as ever."

You paused, surprised by his observation, before offering a playful smile. "And you still have that ridiculous mustache," you quipped, unable to resist teasing him.

Instead of taking offense, Karl chuckled softly, the sound filling the room with warmth. "Some things never change," he admitted, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at you. "But I suppose that's what keeps life interesting."

You smiled back at him, grateful for the ease with which you could banter with him, even after all these years. But then, a somber thought crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

"My father told me what happened," you said softly, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, Karl. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you and little boy."

Karl sighed, his expression softening as he nodded in understanding. "Your father was always a gossip," he replied with a wry smile. "But thank you. It's been a challenging time, but we're managing."

As you looked at Karl, his rugged features softened by the flickering light of the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the man he had become. Despite the hardships he had faced, he still exuded a quiet strength and resilience that was undeniably compelling.

As Karl settled himself more comfortably on the bed, his gaze softened, and he looked at you with a mix of curiosity and something deeper, something that hinted at the years of longing and missed opportunities. His back rested against the headboard, his posture relaxed yet still exuding an air of authority.

"So, what about you?" Karl's voice broke the silence, his German accent adding a touch of familiarity to the question. "What have you been up to all these years?"

You met his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions flood back as memories of your time together as young, ambitious individuals surfaced. "Well, after medical school, I dove headfirst into my career," you began, your voice steady despite the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm you. "Marriage and children just didn't fit into the equation. I was too focused on my work, too driven to make a difference in the world."

Karl listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours as you spoke. There was a hint of surprise in his expression, as if he hadn't expected you to have remained single all these years. But beneath the surprise, there was something else, something that spoke of unspoken desires and long-buried emotions.

"I never imagined you'd end up as my personal doctor," Karl admitted, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and something else, something you couldn't quite place. "But I suppose life has a way of surprising us."

You nodded in agreement, unable to shake the feeling of deja vu that hung in the air between you. "Life certainly has a way of throwing unexpected curveballs," you agreed, a wistful smile playing at the corners of your lips.

As you sat there, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, a comfortable silence settled over the room, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath Karl's weight. And in that moment, surrounded by memories of the past and uncertainty of the future, you couldn't help but wonder what might have been if circumstances had been different, if fate had led you down a different path.

But then Karl spoke again, his voice trembling slightly with vulnerability, as if he were baring his soul for the first time in years. "I have to confess something," he began, his gaze searching yours for any sign of understanding or forgiveness. "You were the first love of my life."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt a surge of emotion rise within you, a mixture of surprise, regret, and something else, something that you couldn't quite name. Karl's confession caught you off guard, stirring memories long buried beneath the surface of your consciousness.

"I wished for you with an intensity that frightened me," Karl continued, his voice barely above a whisper as he laid bare his innermost thoughts and feelings. "Ever since your father introduced us, I couldn't shake the feeling that you were meant to be a part of my life."

The revelation stunned you, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there in silence, grappling with the enormity of what Karl had just revealed. The gap in age between you suddenly felt insignificant in the face of the raw emotion that radiated from him.

"But I knew that I had no right to hold onto you," Karl confessed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You were a young woman with the world at your feet, and I was... an old man with too much baggage to burden you with."

His words pierced your heart, and you felt a pang of sympathy for the man who had once been so unattainable, yet now sat before you, stripped of his defenses and laid bare by illness and regret. The realization that Karl had let you go, believing it was for your own good, filled you with a sense of bittersweet longing.

"And then I met Charlotte," Karl continued, his voice tinged with sadness as he spoke of his ex-wife. "She was younger than me, full of life and laughter. I thought I had found happiness with her, but now... now I realize that I let go of the one person who truly mattered to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Karl's confession, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy burden. The depth of his regret was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for not realizing sooner the true extent of his feelings for you.

"I'm so sorry, Karl," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as you reached out to grasp his hand in yours. "I had no idea..."

Karl's hand trembled beneath yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he squeezed your hand gently. "It's not your fault," he replied hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. "I should have been honest with you from the beginning. I should have fought for us."

As you sat there, hand in hand with Karl, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the air between you, you couldn't help but wonder what might have been if circumstances had been different, if fate had given you both a second chance at love.

You squeezed his hand tighter, the warmth of his touch reassuring you that perhaps it wasn't too late for the two of you. "If you had asked, Karl," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion, "I would have said yes in a heartbeat."

Karl's eyes widened in surprise at your confession, his lips parting slightly as if he were at a loss for words. But before he could respond, you pressed on, needing to express the depth of your feelings for him that had remained buried for far too long.

"I loved how good and generous you were with everyone," you confessed, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "And I admired how you never scolded me for my boldness, how you always met my challenges with patience and understanding."

As you spoke, memories of your spirited debates with Karl flooded back, the thrill of matching wits with him still fresh in your mind after all these years. "I loved it when we argued," you admitted with a soft laugh, "because you were the only one who could keep up with me. I never felt more alive than when I was with you."

Karl's expression softened further at your words, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his eyes as he remembered the fiery exchanges the two of you had shared. "I often wondered what it would be like to be with you all the time," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you laid bare your innermost thoughts and desires. "To wake up next to you every morning, to share our lives together..."

But then, as if sensing the weight of your words, Karl pulled away slightly, his expression clouded with a mixture of regret and sadness. "I'm so sorry, my dear," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you."

You reached out to cup his cheek, the rough stubble beneath your fingertips a tangible reminder of the man you had once loved with all your heart. "It's not your fault, Karl," you assured him, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. "We were both young, and life had other plans for us."

For a moment, the two of you sat there in silence, the weight of your unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between you. But then, with a hopeful look, you told Karl that you still want, even after all these years, he is the only man you ever wanted to marry. The admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities.

Karl hesitated, his brow furrowing with indecision. "No," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't do that to you. I'm sick, and I have a young son. I can't throw those responsibilities on you."

You reached out to him, your hand finding his cheek, your touch gentle yet filled with determination. "Karl," you insisted, your voice unwavering. "I know what I want, and it's you. I don't care about your illness or your son. I want to be with you, no matter what."

Karl stopped himself, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. "I... I don't know what to say," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I never expected..."

But before he could finish his sentence, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his in a chaste yet passionate kiss. "Shut up," you whispered against his lips, your breath mingling with his. "If you don't want me, just say so. But don't make excuses. I can handle the truth."

For a moment, Karl was silent, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. And then, with a trembling sigh, he leaned in closer, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that spoke of years of longing and regret.

As you kissed him, you felt the warmth of his embrace envelop you, the intensity of his desire matching your own. In that moment, you knew that you had rekindled the flame that had once burned so strong between you, a flame that had never truly died despite the passage of time.

As you pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you saw in Karl's eyes the reflection of your own desires, the silent acknowledgment of a love that had endured against all odds. "I want you," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with longing. "Oh, how I want you... But my son..."

You interrupted him, gently placing a finger on his lips to silence his protest. "Karl," you said softly, your voice filled with determination, "Otto is a part of you, and I love every part of you."

You reached out to take Karl's hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his as you met his gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I promise you, I will love Otto as if he were my own son," you vowed, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling within you. "I will take care of him, protect him, and cherish him just like I will cherish you."

Karl's eyes softened at your words, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief flickering in their depths. "But I can't ask that of you," he protested weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much to ask..."

You shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. "It's not too much to ask," you insisted firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I love you, Karl, and that means loving everything that comes with you. Including Otto."

A tear slipped down Karl's cheek, his defenses crumbling under the weight of your unwavering love and support. "You're too good to me," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled gently, brushing away his tear with the pad of your thumb. "We're in this together, Karl," you reassured him, your voice filled with conviction. "No matter what happens, we'll face it together. I promise."

As you sat there, hand in hand with Karl, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace, you knew that no matter what the future held, you were ready to face it head-on. With Karl by your side, and now with Otto too, you felt as if nothing could stand in the way of your love.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #karl hoffmeister x reader #a promise #karl hoffmeister

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jennay · 6 months

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Stay Strong

Request: What if the reader has struggled in the past with depression and even attempted suicide. She wants Nick to give her her first tattoo since she wants something that she can look at to continue to push her through her tough times. Noah will be there with her holding her hand while she gets it. He has been her rock and has helped her through her struggles.

Warnings: Talks of Suicide/depression/cursing/angst/regret....not in huge detail but enough to warn.

Master list

An: I lied I posted it tonight. Hope you enjoy this one! I tried to give a background story to make the tattoo more meaningful. If you want to be tagged in future Noah stuff let me know!

I'm still taking request for now too!

Life hadn't been the kindest to you, and even though you wore a smile on your face and told everyone you were OK, there was a piece of you that felt you would never get better.

How do you cure depression?

The medications made you feel like a zombie, and counseling never seemed to do the trick no matter how hard you tried; every day was a fucking battle, one you didn't want to fight.

The first attempt you made to end your suffering, you were just thirteen. You'd barely experienced the joys of life but had lived through enough trauma to make you not see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The second time, you were fifteen. You spent two weeks in a mental health facility, and you felt you were on top of the world. You would concur life and vowed never to feel that way again.

You hated the look on your mother's face, and you watched Noah slowly back away from you. Seeing how your choices affected your closest friends and family brought more pain.

You promised Noah it wouldn't happen again; he didn't need to fear losing you because you would get better.

It stopped for a few years, and you were convinced you were better, but two years later, your mother passed away, and it all started again. You were devastated, heartbroken. You didn't want to live without her. You moved in with your brother, and life changed completely. No more routine, no more late-night movies, no more mom hugs, and no more mom. Why was life so cruel to you?

A month later, Noah and you lie in bed talking about your dreams, hopes, and plans. You lived talking about these things with him. He always had the biggest ambitions and greatest desires, and then he dropped a bomb on you. He told you he was leaving, and you couldn't handle it.

The idea of living without him puts you in the darkest pits of hell. The one who talked you through things, who made you feel better, your rock, was leaving you to move to a different state. In that moment, you realized no one actually gave a shit about you. Everyone would leave you, and it was only a matter of time. You lied and told him you were happy for him and that someday you'd visit him, but you wouldn't.

Six months after Noah left, you couldn't do it anymore. You didn't want to and couldn't tell your brother. You stopped going to school, you laid in bed and cried. You lost your mother and Noah all in the same year. Life didn't feel worth living.

Noah remembered the day he got the phone call. He thought your brother was lying.

"They don't know if she's going to recover," Ben told Noah. "I don't know what to do or who to call. It's not like our mom and dad are around anymore." He sadly sighed.

Noah took a one-way flight back to you. He didn't know how long he would stay but knew he needed to get home to you.

You woke up in a hospital bed with Noah sleeping next to you. You couldn't remember what happened, but it couldn't be good if you were in a hospital.

You and Noah got into a huge fight when you were released from the hospital. He told you he wasn't going home until you went to rehab for your mental health. He wanted to pawn you off; at least, that's how you felt.

"Fuck you! You left me! This is your fault you screamed at him. "I don't want you here, Noah. I hate you. I hate you so much!"

Noah threw you over his shoulder, with you kicking and screaming as he walked up the stairs and into your bedroom. He set you on your bed, sat in your computer chair, and rolled in front of you. He hated this for you. He hated seeing your eyes red and puffy; he hated seeing your body tremble out of anger, but most of all, he hated that you hated him.

Noah tried his best to remain calm, but the more he stared at you, the sadder he felt. His eyes watered, but he quickly wiped them and leaned forward. His Brown eyes wandered your face. "What are we going to do?" He quietly asks.

You shrug, shaking your head, "I don't wanna be here anymore."

"Then don't." He pauses, leaning back in the chair, "Come to California with me."

You raise your eyebrow, knowing a fresh start could be nice. "OK." you quietly say.

Noah smiles, "This doesn't get you out of therapy, though… that's my number one requirement. You want to come with me? You need to get help."

You agreed.

You excitedly pull out your phone and show your boyfriend and Nicholas your chosen design.

"This is it," you say with a smile, feeling adrenaline. The tattoo is simple yet elegant, with cursive lettering that spells "Stay Strong" on your ribs.

It's a phrase that has helped you through many tough times in your life, and you want to make it a permanent part of you.

Noah beams with pride at the person you've become today, ten years. You have faced many challenges and obstacles but never gave up and continued to grow. You have overcome your fears and insecurities and learned to love yourself and others. You are his inspiration and his soulmate. "Yeah, it's to the point," Noah says. "Stay Strong is a good motto to live by." He squeezes your hand and kisses your forehead.

You nod, "I thought it was fitting." You look at Nicholas, who has been patiently waiting for your approval. He grabs your phone and observes the photo a bit longer. He likes the placement of the tattoo and the cursive lettering. He thinks it will suit your body and personality well.

"Let's get started," he says with a grin.

He leads you to the tattoo table and instructs you how to lie down and position yourself.

You feel the cold stencil being placed on your side, and you shiver slightly.

You smile graciously at Nicholas, who asks you if you are ready. You nod, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. Noah holds your hand throughout the process and encourages you whenever you flinch or cringe.

He reminds you how brave and strong you truly are. He whispers he loves you when he sees the tiny tears in the corner of your eyes.

He tells you how beautiful you are and how much he admires your courage.

"Fuck," you say when it's all done. "That was the weirdest sensation. It hurt but tickled all in one." You laugh, feeling a sense of relief.

Noah chuckles as you sit up, "Yeah, shit hurts." He reaches out his hand, helping you off the table, and wraps his arm around you, holding you close. "But it's worth it," he adds.

"Check it out," Nick says, pointing to the body mirror. You smile at the reflection in the mirror, admiring his work. The tattoo is simple yet holds so much meaning to you. It's a reminder of your strength and resilience and how far you've come. It's a symbol of your journey and your growth. It's a tribute to your past and a promise for your future. You feel proud of yourself and grateful for the people who have supported you along the way.

Noah stands behind you, watching you intently. He leans down, kissing you on the cheek. "I'm so proud of you, babe." He whispers in your ear.

You turn around, facing him. You smile at him, puckering your lips for a kiss, and Noah doesn't hesitate to fill that need. "I love you." you happily say. "I love you too, beautiful," he replies, looking into your eyes.

You hug him, feeling complete and happy. You have a new tattoo, a new memory, and a new reason to stay strong.

@thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @niicoleleigh @waake-meee-up

#noah fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x y/n #noah sebastian oneshot #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #Noah Sebastian x you

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

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careful daughter // marcus armstrong

summary: she's always been the careful daughter. when she slips up on a final exam, marcus knows jsut how to make everything better. or, where he fell in love with a careful man's once careless daughter.

warnings: talks of past regrets

pairing: marcus armstrong x female! reader

she knew she'd bottled it almost as soon as she'd handed in the paper

even though she'd looked it over, confused and frustrated, four separate times, she was one of the first to hand it in

the perfect student who looked like she was always on top of things, the smartest in the room

but she didn't feel like it as she walked towards the campus parking lot, a pit in her stomach as she waited for marcus

since she didn't need to be at the campus for long, he said he'd drop her off before the exam, and then take her out to dinner afterwards

and god did she need marcus cornelius armstrong right now.

she needed him to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be fine.

"princess, what's wrong?" marcus asks her, the air in his bmw heavy with the anxiety radiating off his girlfriend

"i fucked up, marcus. the most important exam of my college career, and i think i bottled it."

"oh, honey. i'm sorry." marcus frowns, taking her hand in his.

he doesn't know what to do

roles are usually reversed because he's the one bottling something (a.k.a his entire formula 2 season)

he takes her to a fifties themed diner, some place nice and quiet

not exactly romantic, but he hopes it might be able to cheer her up

they order burgers, fries and milkshakes, with a basket of onion rings to share

"i used to be an awful person, marcus. i allowed myself to be defined by one thing and i thought that other people didn't like me, so i pushed them away before they got the chance to really get to know me. i thought i was stopping myself from getting hurt, that i was the only person i needed. i wasted so much time being that person, and now that i'm not, i've spent so much time trying to figure out who i actually am. i have days where i regret every single decision that i have ever made. and what if i'm wasting more time now on a major that's not meant for me?"

and marcus is shocked, for the first time in his life, he's speechless

"baby, listen to me. you aren't that girl any more, and you don't have to be, either. it's just one test. i know first hand how much effort you have put into this course. and you are so fucking good at it, princess. you are going to be the best in your field. none of this has been a waste of time, yeah?"

there's a jukebox in the corner, and he knows just what to do

he gets up, puts a quarter in the record machine

and selects a dolly parton song that he knows is going to make y/n laugh

"tumble out of bed, and stumble into the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition"

he knows his singing and dancing routine is awful, all shrugged shoulders and foot-shuffling as his glasses slide down his nose

despite everything, she's laughing, her face lighting up as marcus invites her out onto the tile floor to dance with him to '9 to 5'

and how can she be upset around someone as lighthearted and full of love and life as marcus cornelius armstrong?

the song changes to an aerosmith ballad, for the jukebox is only equipped with the classics

and their food is practically forgotten as they sway together in the middle of the diner to 'i don't want to miss a thing'

and for once, she's not worried about her test, or her grades

she knows she's going to be okay in the end

#marcus armstrong x reader #indycar x reader #formula 2 x reader #marcus armstrong #indycar #marcus armstrong imagine

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imaginesbymonika · 1 year

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About you (special chapter: the beach scene)

Pairing: Tenoch Huerta x fem!reader

Warnings: angsty, mentions of a break-up, sad scene from a movie, sad twitter users (haha)

Plot: Inspired by "About you" by the 1975. You and Tenoch used to date and you simply can't shake the feeling that you are still in love with him. You wonder if he still thinks about you, because you do all the time.

A/N: i hope you guys like this, I wanted to try something different :) please tell me if you'd like more of that in the future

Masterlist / Previous Chapter

The beach scene:

The blonde-haired mutant sighs while she stands a couple of meters behind the Queen of Wakanda. Whose eyes are anxiously roaming the shore and the blue ocean, the grip on the beautiful large shell only tightens with each passing minute. "I don't think that he will show up.", she declares and runs a hand through her hair before holding it up to block the sun from shining into her face, but Ramonda only shakes her head. "I think you are wrong. He is most likely already here, somewhere, silently watching us."

Y/c/n didn't answer, instead, she feels how a shiver runs down her spine and when she quickly turns her head to the left her eyes widen:" Your majesty.", she speaks, without tearing her gaze off the man who makes his way out of the water. His eyes are dark and filled with ambition, but they soften immediately when they land on the mutant's form. An indistinct expression forms on his face, one she hasn't seen in a very long time.

"My daughter!", Romonda states, making Namor snap out of his thoughts:" I want to know if she is alive." The God only chuckles slightly, before he nods his head:" The princess is alive and well." As soon as he speaks those words the older woman lets out a trembling but relieved breath.

"You are as beautiful as the day you left. What are you doing here, in yakunaj. (my love) ", Namors voice is silky when he once again looks at y/c/n:" This isn't your fight." "Of course, it is!", she replies and takes a step forward:" I have been living in Wakanda for the past four years, ever since-." She pauses and anger flashes up in her eyes. "Ever since you left me."

For a moment y/c/n only stares at him, before her jaw clenches:" You were the one to end things, Namor. Don't do this to me." The rage in her eyes is prominent, and when her former lover takes a step toward her she wants to move away. "Yeah, but I never forgot about you. Ever.", Namor says, and takes another step forwards, until the space between them is so small that they can easily hear each other's heartbeats. But there is only one. He continues:" And I fear that letting you go is my life's biggest regret." His hand reaches for her chin to make her meet his gaze. "Let Shuri and the scientist go. Take me instead."

At her words, he lets go of her and lowers his head, before he turns to stare at the blue sea. "You used to tell me that you love Talocan. That there was no other place you wanted to call home… You claimed that you loved my people. That’s why I wanted to make you their queen, in reina (my queen) ." He pauses, and when he looks at the mutant tears are running down his cheeks:" When you left me, I looked for your love in the darkest and deepest places of the seven seas. But nothing I found could ever compare. But maybe I was wrong about you." He wipes his face with the back of his hand and walks up to Ramonda. …

#tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta x reader #tenoch x reader #namor #mcu namor #wakanda forever #black panther #namor x reader #tenoch huerta imagine #imagine #x you #Y/N #tenoch huerta namor #namor the sub mariner #Spotify

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alwayschasingrainbows · 6 months

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With all the amazing conversation about "Emily's happy ending" going on, there is one question I keep asking myself: Would Emily ever go back to writing if she married Dean Priest? And, however crazy it may sound, however unpopular this opinion is, I came to the conclusion that she would... in a time.

Now, I know that Dean is extremely possesive. He won Emily by a lie, he crushed her dreams, he laughted at her ambitions. He hated her writing, because it took her away from him. He wanted to possess her wholly, body and soul, he wanted her to belong to him whole-heartedly. I also know that Emily was deeply hurt, crushed, that her hopes and dreams were in shatters. I know that she kept telling herself she was going to be satisfied with being only Dean's wife and that her writing was no longer important. I know that she didn't believed in herself and her talent at this point of her life.

The problem is - she wouldn't be happy, or satisfied, or fulfilled, or whole. She had to write, just as she had to breathe. She got engaged to Dean during the most vulnerable period of her life, when she was hardly herself; weakened after her long illness, afraid of the future, ashamed of her past. But the need to write was still alive, deep inside her soul, unactive yet, but not dead.

In canon, it was Dean telling her the truth about A Seller of The Dreams, that allowed Emily to write again. But I think it was only a trigger. It is equally possible that, in a time, something else would make her want to write. It could be anything: Teddy's painting The Smiling Girl, a letter from someone who read her stories, Aunt Elizabeth's sickness, a loss of someone she cared about, reading one of her old poems, anything. I believe that Emily would feel the need to write herself out. Montgomery once said that only lonely people wrote journals, but there are many kind of loneliness - a loneliness of unshared thoughts, for example. So, I feel that once Emily encountered something she couldn't deal with or talk over with with Dean, she would turn back to her writing.

Also... it isn't impossible that Dean would have told Emily the truth about her first book later, during their marriage. Now... I know, it is not exactly in his character, but please, hear me out. Of course, we see Dean being jealous - of Emily's writing, of her friends. But, for many years, he showed Emily his support, he read her stories and poems. The scene in Emily Climbs, when he gets angry at Emily for wanting to see Teddy, shows his character - he doesn't want to let her go, but doesn't stop her.

Also, the moment Dean decided he hated A Seller of The Dreams shows that however he is guilty of Priests' jealousy, he usually tries to fight it: "The one black drop in his veins—that Priest jealousy of being first—suddenly made its poison felt." (Emily's Quest). It is in Dean's nature to be jealous, indeed, but he isn't possessed by it 24/7. He is capable of tenderness, and he isn't an evil person. He decided to tell Emily the truth about A Seller of The Dreams after she broke their engagement, even though he could walk away, knowing that Emily wouldn't be able to escape his grasp. But he chose not to. Why? In my opinion - because he regretted what he had done and felt ashamed. He wouldn't be able to go on, if he hadn't told the truth.

Montgomery's scholars interpreted Dean's wanting to buy Emily a writing desk as "limiting her writing to a small space", but in my opinion, it was something else. It was Dean's way of dealing with his regrets over killing a vital part of Emily. It was his way of trying to fix something he destroyed, even if he wasn't ready to say it plainly, yet.

I know it probably sounds as if I am trying to defend Dean and whitewash his character. I am not. He is not the supportive partner Teddy would (hopefully) be. Dean would have trouble accepting Emily's devotion to anything that wasn't him. That being said, I think that Dean, at this point, was lying to himself that this Emily was going to be enough. One of the reasons he wanted to marry Emily was her fierce spirit and vitality:

"What a child!” he muttered. “I’ll never forget her eyes as she lay there on the edge of death—the dauntless little soul—and I’ve never seen a creature who seemed so full of sheer joy in existence." (Emily of New Moon).

Emily who couldn't write was crushed - destroyed - a shadow of herself. She found it difficult to dream, or to be truly happy. Dean Priest, looking at her with the eyes of adoring man, might not have realized this change yet.

But once they were married, his regrets and fears would probably creep in, slowly, gradually. The realization that he killed the part of Emily would come in a time - years, possibly - but I think he wouldn't be able to stand this thought.

He'd spill his secret - he'd tell Emily the truth. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to forgive him - perhaps he'd lose her forever, but he would tell her (even on his deathbed, I think).

I know it is a very unpopular opinion, but I honestly think Emily Starr would sonehow find the strength to write again, even if she married Dean Priest.

#emily of new moon #lm montgomery #dean priest #emily byrd starr #alternative ending

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radical-revolution · 8 months

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Simple Life

I would like to be a simple person with simple way of life, have simple leisures and problems and die a simple death.

We are lay practitioners. To practice the Dharma we don't need lots of activities that brings lots of complication. If we live a simple life, then it is easier to practice the Dharma.

We are incurring all kinds of imprints from moment to moment. If we reduce our activities, meet less people, then we have less imprints added to the ones we already have. The reason why we are making more imprints is because we have not realise the emptiness and illusory nature of phenomena, self and others. We are still stuck in the false substantiality of so-called reality, grasping and creating karma.

If not when we try to sit, all kinds of thoughts arising from these imprints from the day, past and future will automatically rises. Then we are thinking about who said what, I said what, Who did what, I did what, ... I should and should not have, so and so should and should not have .... etc. etc. and endless plans and plannings. All kinds of fear, hope, uncertainties, regrets, ambitions, etc. etc.

How to meditate? Difficult to let go.

Best thing as a lay practitioner is to live a simple life with simple activities.

We will be surprise how rich each simple experience can be.

How I miss that sometimes. Need to be more radical but it’s not that simple to lead a simple life.

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witchmoon · 1 year

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by our red string of fate.

Part 3

Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x fem! Reader

Summary: Aemond broods reflects on the night he met his love interest Y/N, leading him to reassess his current situation + internal conflicts. He also searches for creative ways to occupy his time while he his impatient ass waits to see her again.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW Angst, Language, Masturbation

Author’s Note: Slow burn AF, but we’re getting there! Writing this exhausted me because heavy feels, but I love it and hope you do too! Multi-part wip / Comments always welcomed <3

ALSO- I’m actually pretty soft for Aegon, so apologies for making him an insufferable little villain in this.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

pretend to love my imperfection at least for a minute, infect my dreams with your taste, you know how to enter in me.

Aemond waits for her, conjuring sinful thoughts that begin to distract in a frustrating way, forcing him to practice a restraint that’s hard to fully commit to. He fights the temptation to comb the streets of King’s Landing in a desperate attempt to locate her, finding that he really has no patience at all. It’s a mad idea, but he begins to seriously entertain it as one day fades into the next and still nothing from Y/N.

He strategizes plans he knows he’ll never execute, mentally listing the most affluent parts of the city as his main starting points for the search he’s too proud to actually undertake. Nonetheless, he carries on with this mind-game primarily to occupy the time, attempting to stay level headed and maintain some semblance of hope that he will see her again.

The truth is he misses her, left in a state of constant wonder these past few days of where she is and why she has yet to return to him. He’d really like to know because he’s steadfast in his desire to continue building on their relationship and know her more, as well as share more of himself.

Isn’t this what she had wanted as well?

The lack of response feels damning, cutting him deeper than he cares to admit. He’s growing tired of the wait, where immediately following that night, he’d carried an abundance of ambition - so certain that all would be well. Everything had felt setup for success, but it’s quickly been replaced with agitation, though Aemond isn’t sure if it’s towards Y/N or himself.

It’s worrisome as time progresses and still no word arrives to give indication of a possible reunion between them. In this way, he begins to feel helpless, like maybe his approach had been completely off base and he’s just now fully realizing the error of his ways. Maybe he would have benefited from being less assured in the presumption that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It’s hard to know for sure.

But now when he reflects on his decision to give her full control of their fate, the intention seems deranged, even to him. It’s a regret he fears he may end up living with for the rest of his life if the tides don’t turn soon within his favor. He probably should have just been cordial, fucking normal, like any other sane person might have been, and inquired upfront where he would be able to call upon her in the coming days.

He had done nothing of the sort, which feels idiotic now. However, Aemond really hadn’t wanted to force her hand that night, even despite the overarching evidence of their mutual attraction, the undeniable chemistry. For once, he’d wanted to have the experience of being pursued.

And he didn’t regard the approach as a game, so much as a selfish experiment to prove to himself that he was wanted - and not wanted by just anyone, but by the very same person he wanted too.

Perhaps it’s in ignorance, but he’d also thought at the time that the universe should just go on and conspire with her for what came next. He had been willing to take that chance without further intervention, because his faith in what he’d been feeling since meeting Y/N had already instilled a confidence in him that they were of the same mind.

However, lately he’s been second guessing his choices, finding only criticism when he re-examines his former train of thought on the topic. Perhaps it had been a grave misjudgment to bypass the finer details and fail to put some insurances into play to prevent this uncertainty, but he’s rather slow to convince himself of this as a possible fact. He doesn’t want to be that cynical, not yet, and he holds out hope that if it’s meant to be, then it will be.

You need to accept this.

She’s worth the wait, he’s convinced, recalling so many qualities he had identified during their brief time together - the sincerity of her words and the kindness of her actions.

There was also the physical attraction - substantial from his viewpoint with her devastating beauty, how she possessed that and intelligence, more than any other women he’d ever encountered before. And he would know because he's hyper-observant, rather particular and aware of the personality traits and habits of those he meets.

The laughter and wit, recalling the utter sweetness of her leaves him to miss her impossibly. And he’s fully aware that she’s the only reason he’s still remained at the capital, never intending to stay beyond the week. In any other scenario, he would have been gone already, providing whatever vague excuse necessary to resume traversing the skies, anything to get away from here.

Even before Aegon’s name-day celebration, he’d already intended to head North following the event, overdue for a visit to the abandoned ruin nestled deep in the moon mountains. If there was ever a secret that Aemond kept, it was this one - an unmapped location that he had discovered and claimed for his own some years ago.

It was mere happenstance that he’d come across the location while scouting enemy lines with Vhagar. It had good structural bones, and he’d immediately idealized the design of a secret refuge in his mind - one in which he could escape to on a whim. Gods knew he needed a place that wasn’t under the same roof as his mother or brother, but it had developed to be so much more.

Keeping his project under wraps, Aemond took to repairing and furnishing it on his own, though progress had been painstakingly slow as second priority to his duties to the crown. Nonetheless, it had transformed in time to become functional and then livable again - something he took great pride in.

In ways, it’s become more his home than the Greens primary residence in the Red Keep, which is a place he never felt any great attachment too.

If he’s honest, he longs to return to the mountains sooner than later, keen to reconnect with the surrounding nature and all the tranquility that only a place that remote can afford. It’s a peace unlike any he’s ever known, one that certainly can’t be found in the city. And when he’s there, he’s always consumed by a sensation of walking on hallowed grounds - of being deeply connected to a worshipful wilderness, an inherent freedom.

i'm so disgusted by the victories i never conquered, i feel sorry for the defeats i am roughly heading to.

The memory of this beckons his soul, just as finding any opportunity to disconnect from the rest of the world will always have an attractive pull on him. And after the recent mouthful he’d received from the small council regarding his “abominable” behavior towards Aegon, he’s less inclined to stick around now, having grown tired of playing the role of the devoted prince regent on standby.

The resentment towards his station had peaked that night, inevitable and leaving him to fume over the reprimands, how he’d been told he was actually the problem. But it hadn’t stopped there, for Aemond had also received a subtle warning to refrain from romantic pursuits and engaging further with “outside distractions”. It was clear as day what they were implying.

Fuck the council and fuck Aegon.

Despite this anger, he refuses to leave the city, finding it an impossible task when he knows the woman of his dreams is somewhere just beyond these suffocating red walls. It’s excruciating being left in limbo though, and it feels like a personal purgatory stationed inside this damned fortress - the very place he’s been kept chained to for far too long.

She’s out there somewhere, and she’s walking around with my heart in her hands.

Aemond simply cannot leave yet, finding the thought unimaginable without seeing Y/N again, but he’s getting worn down the longer he remains. The majority of his time here revolves around politics and scheming, of treachery and family dramatics - all topics that hold some responsibility for the irreparable damage done to him over the course of his life.

It feeds his disgust, anger and rage, pushing him closer to the edge of his sanity, thinking any second could be the moment he finally breaks. He’s all too aware of how close he is, pressured to the point that surely it will be impossible for him to be put back together. And if that happens, he can’t begin to anticipate the level of self-destruction that might follow in its wake.

Please come to me darling, I am running out of time.

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting from her, only certain that something powerful exists when they’re together. And although it's a very broad assumption, he still can’t shake the feeling that there’s potential - a capability for more intimacy between them. It’s a higher love that’s being sought, and Aemond thinks it’s entirely possible that they could become each other’s haven if they so wished.

During this time of so many unknowns, having one constant could also be the difference between him giving a fuck about his life and what happens to him or not at all.

While he doesn’t want a savior per se, and would never press that upon her or anyone else, having something rooted for him to cultivate and grow and protect would be profound. It’s an idea he wants realized more than he’s ever admitted to anyone, even himself as he considers the night they met - how she’d inadvertently set the scene so perfectly for him, making the conquest seem like the obvious next step.

I would have her.

He’d been so drawn to Y/N, enticed by her mirrored interest in him and disinterest in everything else around them. Then there was her curious demeanor of contradictions, something he found relatable in that she had placed herself somewhere she didn’t actually want to be. Similarly, she’d been close to tears, eyes brimming with emotions and then a moment later, ready to convert that frustration into something more physically damaging.

It enticed him, to say the least. Instinctually he knew she was remarkable, someone to be adored and admired - cared for in a way maybe she never thought possible. And he felt capable of being the one to see this realized for her, wanting to be that person, rather precipitously hoping she might be agreeable to the design.

He was certainly up for the challenge.

you know how to softly torture, you know how to torture my innocence.

Although Aemond has never been in a serious relationship, he doesn’t refute the existence of a love that can persist between two people. To the contrary, he’s retained his romantic tendencies - holing them up all his life to remain stagnant, concealed, lying in wait until called upon by a pre-eminent receiver. At least that’s how he’d always secretly dreamt it would happen.

And it would seem that time for him may have finally arrived. However, there are certain realities he has to consider too, as bothersome as they are to recount…

He is complicated - thought of as damaged, even culpable by many and though it stings, he wouldn’t necessarily argue such generalizations regardless of how misguided they usually are from an outsider’s perspective.

Admittedly, his wounds have been slow to heal due to being so heavily stemmed and indefinitely attached to the last vestiges of his humanity. In fact, it’s the bad memories that keep him infected in such a way that it feels inescapable, burdensome, even after all this time.

In this regard, Aemond has struggled, weighted by an anger that’s allowed his hurt to define him so greatly, for so long - to the point that even he’s repulsed by his inability to simply accept and release all that’s been lost, all that will never be regained.

Though he tries to do this, the idea of moving beyond his past seems inconceivable with each attempt he makes, easier to just convince himself that a blissful way of living isn’t ever going to be part of his destiny. It’s a truth thats often driven him to the conclusion that he’s simply undeserving of such experiences anyway.

And if proven correctly, he wouldn’t be surprised, because he knows how fucking difficult he can be and how deep within himself he can go, to the point of being untouchable both physically and emotionally. It’s a defense mechanism, and he has no other explanation.

Who would want that? Who would want me?

For most of his life he’s been living at a distance from people for this very reason. Yet at the same time, he’s measured his own value based on other’s acceptance and understanding of him. It's a hard reality for a dreamer such as Aemond, especially as someone who has inherently always needed love, but has never known how to ask for it.

i’m not allowed to love - then i don't have to suffer and no heart breaks.

It’s a disheartening cycle, one he mulls over almost daily just to find some peace of mind, a semblance of control. But it just puts him in a fouler mood, with everyday feeling more intolerable than the prior, like a constant navigation through hellfire as he struggles to hold on.

He goes on searching for an abidance to his ruined fate, willing something that just won’t come, but he knows why - he still wants to believe in something beyond the tangible, an elusive magic he’s been chasing since boyhood.

Its fucked up, but most days he doesn’t really feel like he’s living either, which is something Y/N had expressed as well. It’s like a dagger to the heart, a permanent ache that he’s deeply intimate with. Somehow it hurts him more to know she shares these same controversies, hardships in life that have left her wanting with a spirit at least half-broken.

But he believes he could provide something of substance, something meaningful thats been absent in her life too. His caring nature compels him towards this idea and there’s a confidence in his capability. It’s reinforced when he reflects on the multitude of ways he’s demonstrated his loyalty and devotion throughout his life - in many a variation, primarily towards his dysfunctional family.

From a romantic perspective, he’s not yet put such behaviors into practice, but they must exist. He’s a giver, certain to be an attentive partner as well, and he’s motivated to provide more than one might expect because everything inside him has been so damn pent up.

It’s just something he finds that he wants to do with an eventual love, though this could be a means to overcompensate for how imperfect he feels he is… Unfortunately, he’s also an over-thinker, easily overtaken by suspicion and charted to question the motivations of others.

It’s just very difficult for him to grasp the concept that someone could want him and he reckons it's the control freak within that automatically cages him to cause further discourse.

Yes, idiot - it is.

It’s a figurative wall that’s proven to be as impenetrable as it is detrimental to his life, his happiness, at least until recently. Aemond continues to make efforts to improve on this front, finding its coming more naturally than before, which he accredits to a developing maturity and the natural passage of time. Even so, he never really escapes from this theory that everything will forever remain in opposition between his head and his heart, regardless of how hard he tries to claw out of the abyss, course correct old habits and persevere.

Still, he will continue to try.

All he’s ever wanted is a love so impossible.

not to be a cliche, but i feel bewitched.

He thinks about her again and all the characteristics that had registered to him, like how she was free-thinking and independent, yet still demonstrated a need to be supported - cared about and for, by someone. And there were also instances where her confidence felt lacking, but not in every aspect, which had immediately resonated for him.

During their first exchange she had really seemed so alone, and she was alone, he had found out later. But that initial first glance and his impression of her from across the room had really pushed him to go to her in an unfathomable way. Then when Aegon had shoved against her, even bold enough to try and lay a claim on her, he’d felt ready to break his brother’s face.

That encounter still plagues him, but there are so many additional draws now, including the benefit of anonymity. He can’t get over how when they had finally spoken, he’d realized rather quickly that she wasn’t familiar with him or his turbulent history, and that alone, was reason enough to be captivated.

It really is so rare, and Aemond is still unsure how to fully react, having no previous comparison to draw from. He can’t remember a time when someone wanted to know him, who didn’t already know him in one way or another, and the reality of this is incomparable.

There’s such a purity to the concept for him, despite still having reservations. He doesn’t necessarily doubt their compatibility, but he’s also not confident enough to assume anything she might actually feel. He needs to experience her to know for sure.

Along these lines of honesty, he also doesn’t want her to view him as someone in passing, who was nice to her in a moment of need, but nothing more or less coming from it. It's a depressing thought for him, especially since he already knows he wants more…

That blasted kiss.

He still hopes she’ll reach out. He was so sure she would as he walked away from her that night, but again, the certainty of the moment has since waned. To counteract this and tame the evolving distress, he’s tried his damnest to remain occupied in body and mind as a means to pass the time, but nothing is really coming to him as a viable distraction.

The anticipation blows as he stalks through the gardens in an attempt to quell his anticipation for he knows not what, but the Keep, even his own room has begun to feel like a prison again. He’s grown antsy in the wait, and it's tiresome when the memory of her lips flood through his mind again and again, the wine taste that lingered on them…

It leaves Aemond impossibly frustrated.

He wants more, glad he’d finally had the opportunity to initiate and act on their kiss. Truth be told, he was so close to doing it in the courtyard, but he just couldn’t, withdrawing at the last minute, preferring they didn’t have an audience for that first time.

Of course, people could have simply been looking at her, as she certainly drew attention with her looks, for which she seemed completely unaware of and he still can’t understand that phenomenon. But as a precaution, he’d thought better of it, and he can’t say that he’s disappointed how the events had unfolded in the godswood just a time later.

She had been so lovely, personable, thanking him for such basic things that had come natural for him to provide. It’s a sweet memory that leaves him yearning to give her more of that, whatever she needs.

The way she’d just stepped into his arms without preamble had come with such an unexpected impact to his heart - one he hadn’t been prepared for, though he was elated to receive her in his embrace. He could tell that she was someone who needed someone, and that sensation of hope that he could be her person lingers on.

You just don’t open yourself like that, hold someone like that and make them feel like the most important person in the world to then never want to see them again.

He’s fucking convinced of this.

i'll need a cruel master who will save my vicious soul, but a master i will hate…

After several hours of field training, Aemond returns to his rooms sweaty and exhausted.

He’d pushed himself further today than ever before, at least that he could recall, spurred by his own growing irritation of feeling so fucking forlorn. Despite his pointed efforts, he’s no less despondent within the privacy of his bedchamber upon return, alone once more to sit with his thoughts.

He feels unhinged when he erratically begins undressing, breaking the fastenings on his sporting tunic along the way. He needs to be freed of the layers as soon as possible, bothered beyond belief by such material confines.

The garment drops to the floor where he’s standing in record time and then he’s unraveling bit by bit as he quietly revels in the sensation of the cool air hitting his naked chest. He pulls his shirt over his head, quickly adding the bundled heap to join his belts and sheathed weapons.

His belongings lay scattered, haphazard about the floor as he begins pacing the room with no clear intent on what his next move is.

Nonetheless, the space seems to cave as he welcomes the subtle draft that permeates to caress upon his heated skin as if it were a woman’s lips. As soon as that visual takes form, he curses himself for conjuring the very thing he’s been working hard to expel from his riddled brain all day.

He rolls his eye with self-directed discontent, proceeding to pull his eyepatch off just to chuck it with substantial force against a neighboring wall. Damnation. It becomes impossibly warmer with his body temperature rising from two day’s worth of repressed anger as he pulls the cord from his hair to let it fall loose.

He tries to make sense of it again, but his locks are damp and tangled from his extreme physical exertions. It bothers him enough to gather the mass and knot it up on this rare occasion - needing to have it completely off his neck and shoulders because its become a great nuisance. Fuck this Targaryen hair!

He just can’t be fucked, unbothered by his less than pristine appearance at the moment. Not that it matters, not that anybody is even with him to observe this raw and roughened physical state anyway.

He collapses in a nearby chair, huffing as he settles into it in a way that is bratty in nature. He could counter the notion however, chalking it up to an inherent need to blow off excess steam that’d recently accumulated within him - how it brims now, threatening to spill with indignation.

As he kicks off his boots, Aemond also resists the urge to return to his feet and find something valuable to break. There’s a frenzy in the way he’s ready to rip the hope he’s been harboring in vain from his chest to tear into shreds, cursing the abundance of his naivety. Mostly he’s just mad at himself, which is nothing new.

My shitty heart can get ripped out too…

In the anger of the moment, it feels infinite and he’s so tempted to just fuck it all and depart from King’s Landing tonight. Leave with Vhagar and disappear indefinitely. He has half a mind to do it in his current state, knowing how easy it would be to forgo family dinner and begin packing right away for the journey to the mountains.

It’s an attractive idea, but he’s too worked up to seriously entertain it at the moment. No - just impossible to consider when he’s wound so tight with disappointment and self-loathing as another realization hits him head-on.

He’s been taken for a fool, essentially ghosted. And he’s fucking offended! But what’s really sending him in a spiral and messing with his head is that he still wants Y/N.

…or that maybe will save me.

He’s mad over the untamed desire he still holds for such a wicked offender - the one primarily responsible for all his angst. But he wants the opportunity to lash out, punish her with his passion, and disrupt her world to the extent that it’ll leave her questioning her entire life. It’s delusional and cruel and he doesn’t care.

Feel what I feel and hurt the way I hurt. You’ve caused this.

Aemond gets caught up, head in his hands as he visualizes them together in an intimate way. And it’s dangerous how he imagines throwing her on his bed, rough in demeanor because it’s what he thinks she deserves after keeping him on the precipice between love and hate like a puppet master.

In his mind, he descends on her with an implied ownership of her body as his fingers learn her - every dip and outline, all the beauty marks and undiscovered places he intends to burn with his lips.

He sees himself doing this while ripping the clothes from her body, using his dagger if necessary to cut her out of her dress, ultimately forbidding her to hide behind her hands with modesty once bare before him.

The visual of this behind Aemond’s closed eye gets him bothered, aware of the strain on his tightening trousers as he touches his fingertips delicately against his lips, his own throat, and then to the prominent veins that surface his neck. He’s reminded of the subtle pressure from her lips against the spot below his ear - a place he touches now, too.

He recalls how whisper soft her touch had been, almost indiscernible when they’d held each other that night and he longs to feel that again. But more deeply now, with a desperation from her that she can’t deny and doesn’t try to hide. It’s killing him as he progresses his imagination, moving her naked body beneath his, writhing as she begs to be kissed by him while he pounds into her relentlessly.

Fuck! His entire body tingles with the wild thoughts and he acknowledges his body’s need for relief - all the parts of him that have been physically aching for too damn long. And this specific ache has reduced him to such a needy state that he actually thinks he might die if he never sees her again. It’s a devastating thought and he rejects it vehemently.

I will find you, no matter what. You belong with me.

But for now, he’s tired, high-strung, vaguely annoyed and impossibly turned on. There’s no getting around it when his dexterous hands skim down his abdomen to the opening of his trousers and then he’s releasing his manhood - so fucking hard within his own grasp as he begins stroking himself.

It’s self-gratifying, sensual and so natural, but he’s never felt this level of intensity before when getting himself off. It’s clear why, as the current situation develops - a fantasy formulating where his hand is actually hers.

It's so easy to do and then he’s taking off, as if she were real and before him, doing these things in real time.

When he licks his lips, he pretends it’s her doing it and when he’s biting his lower lip, his teeth become hers to capture and tease. So he bites harder and fucks himself off faster as his low moans begin to fill and circulate the room, breathless sounds the closer he gets.

He’s disintegrating, losing himself to the pleasure as his head falls back, long legs sprawled wide, sinking further into the chair. His abdomen is tight, muscles bunching and dancing in the flickering candle flames. But although it feels so damn good, there’s still a deep longing present - for his pouty lips have missed the opportunity to be truly kissed, and his lithe body continues to exist beyond the admiration of a real worshipful touch.

The loss is great and it’s killing him, knowing he deserves more than this as his heart starts to pound and evened breaths become harder to maintain. But still he goes on, taking what he can get and making the best of the situation.

And the best that he can do to get him over the edge is to imagine that the hand encircled around his cock is her mouth now, those full lips. He can see that gorgeous face when he shuts his eye tighter, concentrating on keeping the image sound as if his very life depended on it.

His grip is tortuous as he recalls her beloved face from memory. There you are, darling. She is perfection in his mind, her cheeks streaked with tears, an evident strain in her jaw as she maintains eye-contact and an open throat to take as much of him as possible.

She’s such a good girl, willingly accepting all the violence of his ardor. And he just goes on, fucking her mouth, choking her while his long fingers tangle into her hair, piling it away from her face so he doesn’t miss a one second of the pure unadulterated dragon love she’s consuming.

This is everything for Aemond, and he can’t stop, though on the off-chance that she’s not actually like this in reality, he’s not sorry. And if he’s inadvertently degrading her right now, knowing this type of intimacy isn’t for everyone, he just can’t find a fuck to give.

He’s gasping, going hard and fast with his pulls, ready to finish himself. Then he’s on the brink of coming, but in the scenario playing out in his mind, he can’t decide if he’d prefer releasing down her throat, giving her no choice but to consume his seed or somewhere else.

But then he recalls her tits, how good they’d looked in her dress and how he’d real-life love to see them bare, glistening with his cum because he’s obsessed and the kink is real.

Then he’s exploding.

look at me all the same, when i’ll be jester of violence and pity.

Aemond’s breath is still shaky several minutes later.

He’s made a mess, hard not to, but he doesn’t really care as he revels in the residual pleasure of his orgasm. His body feels better too, finally rid of so much of the building tension of the past few hours.

Passively he makes a mental note not to wait this long next time, but the reminder snaps him back to a reality where disappointment still lingers, working to settle its way into his marrow once again.

It forces him to cynically ponder if what he’s experiencing is how most lovers feel - as if they’re in a perpetual state of anxiety-induced anticipation, grappling with the fear of being let down. It all feels futile somehow, although he technically had self inflicted this specific course in allowing Y/N to hold the control, all of it.

Lesson learned.

This regret over a singular choice makes him feel… crazy, and it’s not a feeling that abandons him soon. In the water’s reflection of his bath later in the evening, he’d looked manic to himself - so much more than usual.

And that image had stayed with him into the late hours of the night, only yielding to sleep as he drifted off to a familiar void, the infinite sadness.

there's a falling bridge between my heart and your upside down world.

In the morning Aemond is slow to wake, his sleep overnight mostly fitful and garnering unrest.

Because of this, he stays in bed later than usual, not really wanting to face the day in any capacity. He knows he should get up though, at the least, in order to begin preparations for his upcoming departure. He wills his vision to focus and his abandoned energy to re-emerge, despite the darkness that remains by the drawn curtains.

He’s struggling to find a motivation as his room entices him to stay put, and he begins to entertain feigning illness should anybody come to call on him. It seems rational, as he’s not really in the mood to see anyone and he’ll be damned if the council expects his meeting attendance today for a review of closed trade routes and their current economic impact.

Count me out.

He’s aware that this behavior is a dangerous adoption - alluding to that of a renegade, and he’d be remiss to deny that the idea wasn’t alluring. But what he’s seeking is more of a temporary break, he thinks, at least to recollect himself, prioritize himself, feel…fucking human again.

I’m not a traitor looking to permanently detach from my duties.

He stares at the ceiling, seeing nothing as he waits for his vision to cloud again. Once achieved, he closes his eye, willing his mind to follow suit - hoping to recapture the solitude of nothingness for a bit longer. However, just as he feels he’s reached the threshold of that mental grey area, ready to enter back into it, an abrupt knock on his door forces him to full consciousness.

But before he can formulate a response for his caller, intending to turn them away, the door opens and to his surprise, its Helaena who rushes in. She’s a welcomed sight, for Aemond adores his sister, but her distressed energy puts him on alert immediately.

He rises to meet her at the edge of his bed, waiting as she makes her way to him in haste. When she sits next to Aemond, her face is marred with worry, regretful and sad - it’s concerning the way it all transfers to him when she places a gentle hand on his arm without a word.

“Dearest brother”, she begins woefully, “this note has been withheld from you for two days past.”

She’s upset and it’s even more palpable when she places a crumbled piece of parchment in his hands before continuing.

“Please forgive me for just discovering it amongst the devils. I came to you as soon as I could.”

Aemond experiences a spectrum of emotions, but at the forefront is both disbelief and relief. But there is anger too, as the initial confusion clarifies and he begins to understand that someone has intentionally intercepted and prevented the delivery of this letter intended for him.

It’s the very thing he’s been waiting for, the very same that’s kept him paralyzed and resentful, sickened with uncertainty. He’d been melancholic, convinced so soon that nothing and nobody was coming for him and he’d been ready to leave.

I was so wrong.

It’s a callous move that’s been played on him, enough to reinstate a new type of rage towards the one so obviously responsible for this. Actually it could be a combination of transgressors or all the entitled fucks that collectively sit on the council and think they control the world from a table.

In his bones though, Aemond feels it’s Aegon and The Hand who are responsible for this offense. But confrontation, even retribution is not priority. It matters naught in light of what he’s just received, indebted to his sister as he draws her in wordlessly to kiss her forehead with reverence.

Unshed tears collect, burning at his eye as his surroundings become a kaleidoscope of images across his distorted vision. And he’s ever-grateful to have the purity of Helaena in his life - how she’s always been a protector and champion of his heart, offering her unique gift of foresight and an abundance of unwavering love.

“This note becomes your destiny, Aemond. The love within it is real and it will not fail you.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he longs to swallow, forcing it down in order to breathe deep again, but there’s no air left as he tries to comprehend his sister’s departing words several minutes later.

He perceives himself as floating outside his body when he begins unfolding the note within the privacy of his domain, alone once more. His fingers tremble, uncontrolled as the powerful combination of adrenaline, anticipation and elation begin to course.

What he feels is inexplicable when he reads the words his love has written to him, beautiful words meant for him. He reads them again and again, allowing the truth to sink in. Without a doubt, he knows now that they are inevitable.

‘No pretenses, no games. I want you, only you - forever. We belong together.’

@a-beaverhausen @boofy1998 @caramelcandescence @wanderingcl0ud

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond x y/n #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #hotd fic #aemond targaryen smut

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albenyx · 1 year

Text

The one that got away

character — venti x fem!reader

warnings — grammatical errors, typos, not proofread, reincarnation au, angst, slight comfort?, inspired by the venti ship w a friend's oc in a dc server i'm in c:

It was a shame, to run out of time in the past.

Just remembering how you died had Venti wincing and his mood going down immediately, knowing he could've saved you. He could of done something, yet he stood there frozen and watched as you get your life taken away from you.

He was the Anemo Archon, was he not? He was an Archon. He could have stopped it, he could have prevented the incident from happening. He could have done something to lengthen your life span.

How interesting. Venti? Falling in love? He never guessed he'd experience such thing, he was always the watcher, the audience. Never the main spotlight, never the one to experience. And yet... there he was... way off his ambitions, falling in love deeper by the minute.

Falling in love with a creation who couldn't even feel emotions.

Heh.

And then it was ruined, every single little dream crushed when his beloved's body dropped to the ground.

'It's unfair.' He thinks, with how he lived while you didn't. A former God, cursing his immortality... wishing for the sweet release of death.

But at the same time... he thinks, he knows, he deserves it. He deserves to live with the guilt, the mistake and the regret for eternity. He does not deserve to be relieved, to be at ease, not when he had a fault, or at least that's what he thinks. A punishment.

Years, centuries, decades had passed.

And he's still there, still stuck in the past, with the same feeling, same memory. The first time Venti hasn't let something go, the first time he stayed stuck into something.

And as he slides open the door he assumes to be his club's door, he is greeted by the sight of you.

His the one that got away.

Oh, you looked so... beautiful. Just like the day he lost you.

'My cecilia.'

He missed you.

And when you bolted up from your seat and turned to look at him who stood just at the door, your eyes full with the look of unknown. Like you've never met him before yet something was familiar. If it weren't for Venti's composed nature, he would of crumbled just by seeing you again.

Finally. After centuries.

'Welcome back.'

“Sorry? May I ask who you are and what you are doing here?”

His heart aches, snapping back to reality. Of course, you wouldn't know nor remember him. You wouldn't know of what happened in the past, and... somehow, Venti was okay with that. For you to live a life with no knowledge how much you had to suffer just so you could please your creator, to be seen and heard by her...

'It's better this way.'

He thinks, and then he flashes you a smile—unsure if you can even see him in this life for you were blind in the past. “Apologies for the intrusion, it wasn't my intentions to startle you. I'm...” He pauses, hesitating.

Does he even deserve to be known by you?

In this life?

After his mistake?

Does he deserve to be blessed by your presence once more?

Questions. So many questions he shook off, not wanting you to wait longer for his introduction. “I'm Venti. Apologies, I sort of... forgot my bands practice room.” He gives a sheepish smile, remembering his band mates were once the people he gifted an anemo vision to.

A feeling of hope swirled inside Venti when he sees a look of familiarity in your eyes, then that hope disappearing hearing your next words. “5wirl, right? I am sorry, but I don't know where's their practice room too. You found the wrong person to ask.”

He inwardly sighed, of course. You won't remember. It's not impossible yet the possibility of you recalling who he was and what you two once had... it was quite small.

He plans to avoid you, to not destroy your happiness. And yet he still stood there at the door, a look of concern on his face when he notices a slight look of sadness in your eyes.

He noticed. He always did.

“It's alright, I was just planning on practicing alone anyway. If it's not too rude to ask.. Are you alright? You just looked sad, and it's none of my business but I just want to uh... make sure?” He inwardly winced at his choice of words as he looked at you, nevermind his choice of words. He wanted to make sure you were alright.

Just like how he did back then.

“You just met a random person in a dark and empty school. First reactions is to be scared. Aren't you scared?” You leaned back on your chair with a small smile towards his way and he's sure he could feel his heart flutter at the sight of it. “Hm. You're weird.”

“Hm?” Your words catch his attention, crossing his arms as he leaned on the door frame with a smile. “I dont know. Should I be scared of you?”

No. No matter how much you were hated, you were misunderstood and seen as the villain... Venti was never afraid of you.

“Should you be? We're just strangers and schoolmates. Don't you think you should be alarmed around people than be so carefree with them?” You hum as you tapped your fingers on the desk, looking like you were expecting something happening. “Hm.. No, not to you at least.” He shrugged, his smile slightly widening when he hears you chuckle. 'Precious.'

“You trust me so easily. You don't even know who am I, yet.” His tight-lipped smile fully widens hearing your words, a slight pang in his heart remembering only he remembered.

'I do. I do know you.'

“Ah. Is that so? I don't think I trust people easily.” As long as you're happy. He won't mind if he'll carry this regret alone.

“What makes me different?” You turn your chair around to smile at him. “Do invite yourself in. You might get tired standing there, I am not one to turn away guests.”

A smile. Something you had never gave him back then, it felt new. Relieving to see you, it felt... wonderful. To see you feel, to have emotions and know about them now.

And then the longing feeling in his heart returns once more, “Hm, not sure. But you're different in a good way.” Venti accepts your invite and walks in the room, taking a chair for himself to sit on as he faced you.

Just this once.

Just this once allow him to indulge in this longing feeling. To see you, look at you once more. To admire you up close once again.

'Once. Just this one time.' He promises to himself as both of you settle in a comfortable conversation. Something both of you never had time with back then.

'We didn't really have any time back then, didn't we?'

It would be a wonderful part to add on the story 'The Anemo Archon and The Puppet'. A story with two people, having a timer that ran out quicker than they expected.

Such story... It was interesting to Venti, to see that someone wrote about it and it has been one of the legends, a heartbreaking 'love story' as some mortals would call it.

And what they didn't know was that the story had it's continuation, in a new life.

The Anemo Archon's love for the creation endured even after her passing and reincarnation, yet the cruel twist of fate left him admiring from a far with a longing heart.

Star-crossed lovers. That's what you and him were. Out of touch, out of time.

special mention: @sevynnee ;)

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furious-rogue-stuff · 1 year

Text

Heat Chapter 41: Enchantment

Back, back, back again~! Sorry for the long lag with this one. It’s a supersized chapter, at least, so I really hope it’s worth the wait 😊

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 26,000+

Summary: After your explosive confrontation with Javi concluded in a passionate tempest, you both take the time to regroup. Are your feelings for each other enough to overcome the turmoil of the past?

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of unprotected sex. Mentions of diet and food habits, exercise routines, angst, past trauma, resentments, frustration and emotional stress. Allusions to toxic behavior, negative coping mechanisms, recurring relationship tropes, women's health, personal turmoil and regrets. Soft!Javi, Longing!Javi, and Sensitive!OFC. **OFC name reveal** In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 40: Hopes

Chapter 41: Enchantment

In the early 1990s, Puerto Rico was besieged with an influx of crime fueled by the drug trade, violence, and trafficking moving through the U.S. territory. There were a whole host of factors that played into the archipelago's woes, and the more one factor was pulled like a thread to its source, the clearer it became that it wasn't even close to being similar to the situation in Colombia.

Really, it could be boiled down to the limbo Puerto Rico and its people floated in for over many decades, if not from as far back as Spain's defeat to the United States during the Spanish-American War. After all, the nebulous status of being a modern-day colony in the late 20th century exacerbated many ills common in other places: poverty, lack of social mobility, and a classist system where the few controlled all the wealth and economic access of the many. But when you're beholden to a federal overlord who was content to keep you at an arm's length, but still shackled from having true self-governance and agency? These ills are only amplified, and become terminal symptoms for a population that are both U.S. citizens, but not truly Americans.

Javi had read up on the history of Puerto Rico. Of course, he knew the basics, and had learned more during his on-and-off again relationship with you, but to read about Operation Bootstrap, and just how much that had changed the smallest of the Greater Antilles? To absorb how a strategic holding in the Caribbean – which had passed imperialist hands for centuries – could be known as La Isla del Encanto, while being ravaged by predatory industries and corrupt fat cats, had been acquired by the U.S. and exploited for most of the 20th century? Well, it all had done little to motivate his zealous ambitions. At least at first.

However, the inevitable happened: his aspiration to leave a place better than he'd found it kept heeding for him to invest more care and attention to what lay ahead. So, after spending his first week as the Special Agent in Charge, Javier found himself voraciously delving into everything before concluding there was a criminal element that controlled the flow of things – a syndicate not unlike that of El Cartel de Cali.

But, where it did differ substantially from the Cali cartel, was in the way the drug trade operated on the big island.

The Puerto Rican Mafia was organized just like it sounds: it was made up of different ranks within La Familia – aka The Family.

Just like the mob, crime families ran different territories, with one central figurehead. However, unlike the mob, members were recruited from all walks of life, and could work their way up through the ranks, but would conduct business operations like a gang. All in order to create a multi-structured network that would make it difficult to dismantle the cartel-level operations.

It was a real puzzle – one Javi was growing more and more intrigued by.

Steve was also getting invested in figuring out strategies for taking down the syndicate, but they both recognized that wouldn't put an end to the drug trafficking in the region.

"…put a bullet in Escobar's head tomorrow? There's just another scumbag that'll fill the vacuum the next day. Is it really worth going off the deep end for?"

And like a cold comfort to his scrupulous intentions, your realistic take slaps him out of his brooding thoughts.

He'd arrived back from doing flyovers of Vieques and Culebra while field analysts pointed out possible drop zones used by drug traffickers to hide product meant for ferrying down to the Lesser Antilles under the cover of night.

Once he'd deboarded from the small plane after it'd taxied into the hangar, Javier strode over to the waiting SUV and gotten in quickly to avoid the rising humidity of the early afternoon.

"Buen día, Agent Peña!" Kike greets in his characteristically jovial way before beginning to drive out towards the security exit.

Grunting in greeting, Javi adjusts the air vents to blow directly on him after discarding is khaki linen blazer to the back seat as he scrubs the heel of his hand across his temple to wipe the perspiration there away. "How is it this fucking hot in winter?" he grumbles more to himself than to the plainclothes-disguised rookie in the driver's seat, who seems unbothered by the heat, even in the stuffy-looking collared stripe shirt and jeans he currently dons.

Snorting, Kike drawls, "It's the humidity. Not usually this high, but things should cool down once the vaguadas roll in early next week. It's going to ruin plenty of Valentine's plans!"

Javier hums as he tugs on the collar of his short-sleeved cotton button down shirt. The mention of Valentine's Day had him ruminating while Kike drove him to the Federal building.

Back in Colombia, Valentine's Day was similar in sentiment as in the states, but was celebrated on a completely different day and time of year. To his chagrin, he's realizing now that during the times you'd dated, every Día de Amor y Amistad fell around either when he'd been on a stakeout, or on assignment in Medellín, so he'd never gotten to do anything special with you.

Sure, this Valentine's fell on a day in the middle of the work week this year, but he was wondering now if he could make up for all those missed schlocky hearts, roses and chocolate-festooned days by taking you out like he'd been yearning to since he got to the island.

The holiday was as big here as it was back home, promoted on the television, plastered across banners on the highway, and he couldn't go into a single place without the garish red and pink hearts or cupids adorning the walls.

He'd wanted to respect your wishes – to let you have the time to think about everything, though, so he'd thrown himself into work and forced himself to pine only when he was alone at the end of the day, staring up at the ceiling fan while he laid in bed.

Today, though, he had business at the Federal building, so he figured he could chance maybe going by to see you? At the very least, it would be good to know where your office was, for completely professional reasons, right?

When he arrived at the building, it was just before lunch time, so there was a decent exodus of people going off campus for the break. As he begrudgingly shrugged on the linen blazer, he told Kike to go on his way and that he'd call if he needed anything, assuring the intrepid officer that he didn't have to hang around waiting for him in the car.

"—You can call my beeper, cell phone, whatever, any time," the man assures.

"I know, Kike. I appreciate it. Now go get lunch and relax," Javi quips wryly as he gestures a casual goodbye before shutting the door and loping off.

Pretty soon, he was entering the DEA offices for a meeting with his Assistant Special Agent in Charge, who was overseeing some surveillance ops he wanted to brief Javi on. Before he'd even finished walking through the bullpen, though, Agent Lopez had practically materialized next to Javi to walk alongside him towards the conference room.

"Boss, glad I caught you—"

"Christ, Nic. Can it wait until I get through this briefing?" Javier grumbles as he fiddles with his now-rumpled shirt collar before smoothening out the flat of his khaki blazer's lapels.

"Well, that's the thing. It's about one of the ops you're gonna hear about in there," Lopez confides to him.

Halting, Javi eyes him before gesturing for him to follow him to a secluded corner before muttering, "All right, shoot."

"I don't think the intel is legit," Lopez tells him before emphasizing in a lower voice, "I think they know we're listening to them."

"…Ok, and why do you think so?" Javi murmurs as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Just a hunch," Lopez obfuscates.

"You gotta give me more than that," Javi tersely sneers, shaking his head when the other man just glowers at him. "Look, I gave you and Duff tons of latitude back in Cali, and it bit us in the ass. I can't tell this kid his ops are compromised because you have a hunch—"

"Alright, fine, but…Duffy doesn't even know about this. Long story, but I have an informant. Something they said gave me the impression that the target knows his place is being surveilled. So before we take what was gathered from their as actionable intel, I want to make sure I can look into it more," Nic insists, hands on his hips as he leans in to mutter, "And no offense, but your ASAC is thickheaded, and didn't want to hear anything I had to say."

Javier grunts evenly. "Yeah, well…that's an issue for another day."

And really, it was. He couldn't help the fact that his ASAC wasn't really his first choice, but as he'd been learning since he'd arrived in Puerto Rico, being juiced in and having spheres of influence were the way most navigated into appointments and work positions. Almost every major official he'd met or read up on was the cousin, in-law, or 'buen amigo' of someone high up in the government, both locally and federally, so there were plenty of incompetent, arrogant, or willfully clueless people in jobs they had no business being in. And the nepotism? It was so pervasive, that it even put the bit of it he'd experienced in Colombia to shame. There were municipalities around the island almost entirely staffed with family members of the mayor. Let alone all the government officials who had kids who worked in some congressperson's office, or who were related distantly to a miembro del senado.

The whole thing had him learning a new word from Kike.

Chanchú – slang derived from the word chanchullo, which defined an act that was morally illicit, due to intentional fraud or scheming that would earn a person or persons influence, money, or protection. Most chanchús would inevitably become illegal, either due to bribery or corruption, and sadly, Puerto Rico was rife with it.

So, after assuring Lopez he wouldn't sign off on anything until there was more information, Javi went into the conference room and let Ryan Segarra brief him.

Sure, he recognized that it wasn't really fair to call him a 'kid', since they were only 5 or 6 years apart, but Javi couldn't help his opinion of him being just that when the man gave him a self-satisfied look and waited for some form of praise once he concluded his briefing.

Of which, he got none. Instead, Javi remained in his cross-armed posture, but leaned back in the chair, and cocked a skeptical brow at him before checking his watch as he drawled, "So, anything else?"

Seeming put off-kilter, Segarra remarked, "Uh, yeah – the signoff to move forward with raiding the caserío—"

"Denied," Javier flatly responds before pushing his chair back and standing. "That's not enough to sanction a raid. Also, it doesn't sound like you've coordinated anything with the field ops guys—"

"Well, they're not looking to move on anything until there's more info netted," Segarra protests, clearly displeased that his boss doesn't seem impressed.

"Then, if that's the case, why the hell are you pushing for it?" Javier remarks with a flippant, albeit pointed edge to his baritone, one that takes the blue-eyed man with the stubble-covered jaw aback. The look he gives him says everything Javier needs to know, so he goes to exit the conference room as he dismisses, "You're not going to medal for being an overreaching jackboot who storms a public housing unit for some low-level dealers, Segarra. Come back once field ops gets you something that is really actionable."

With that, Javi exits to stride at a clipped pace out of his department and towards the elevator to head up to Digital Information Operations.

Luckily, the entire thing only took part of the lunch hour, so he figured you'd just be coming back from the break to your office. He didn't expect to come off the elevator and traverse the main corridor towards your department, and see Devon gatekeeping the entry while sat at the receptionist's desk, typing on the computer.

"They got you working phones during everyone else's break?" Javi quips after entering from the glass door and surprising the man behind the much-too-smug desk.

"Oh, no! I was just doing a software install for the receptionist while she ran down to grab something at the cafeteria," Devon explains as he maneuvers his broad frame from behind the desk before asking, "Did you have an appointment? I, uh, don't see the log out, so—"

"No, no appointment. I just came up to see where the department was," Javi quickly retorts, and at Devon giving him a musing nod while eyeing him dubiously, he ends up relenting, "And yeah, I was hoping the director was around so I could say hello."

"Oh, she's off-campus for lunch," Devon answers guilelessly as he adds, "She usually brings something from home, but today is her cheat day."

"Ah, is that right?" Javi chuckles, smirking at the idea of you partaking in the same kind of fast-food Steve was raving about indulging in whenever he could sneak it. "Huh, ok then…"

Seeming to sense he was slightly let down at not being able to see you, Devon checked his watch before retrieving something from the communal cubby next to the reception desk.

"Well, if you're up for skipping the cafeteria, this place is nearby and is a favorite around the office," he's remarking as he hands Javi a takeout menu. Looking at it, he hums flatly before he catches Devon giving him a look that was practically a nudge before he remarked, "Definitely check it out."

Smirking, he nodded before folding the pamphlet-style takeout menu and slipping it into his blazer's pocket as he backpedals to the entry. With a friendly wave over his shoulder, Javi calls out coolly, "Thanks for the tip. Have a nice rest of your afternoon!"

You hadn't expected for it to be so busy in the restaurant today, but since you'd become a regular, they'd sat you at a table tucked close to the bar so you could wait out the rush while you busied yourself with your planner. When the dine-in and takeout traffic slowed, you perused the menu before the server came by and took your order.

After your order is placed, you go back to writing reminders for yourself in your planner while you think about how much you'd enjoyed spending time with your father the Sunday before.

He'd avoided any topic that would raise your ire or stoke your combativeness, and you happily filled him in on work and the surface chit-chat about your friends while you cooked. And when all the dishes were ready, you'd both sat on the terraza and enjoyed the meal, managing a pleasant dinner before Camille arrived from the day out with her relatives. The evening had been so nice, that you'd even made an effort by not rushing off like you normally would.

You're just thinking about how much she'd irritated you by bringing up an upcoming anniversary she had no right mentioning, as far as you were concerned, when you dimly hear the bell above the door ring just before the chef behind the counter calls out, "Irasshaimase," in greeting.

Looking up from having just finished storing your planner into your purse to give a cursory glance at the entryway, you end up staring, disarmed, at Javier as he is led towards the tables. He looks so insufferably handsome in his ecru-colored linen suit and plain cotton button-down, sans necktie, with the top three buttons of the collar undone already. The tease of his neck and the flash of his collarbones peeking from the shirt just above the top neckline of a cotton undershirt has titillated excitement bubbling up in you. So much so, that you feel your heart throb and the apples of your cheeks burn with a flustered blush.

When he sees you, he smiles, eyes crinkling with affection as he catalogues how chic you look with your hair up in a sleek ponytail, wearing a light blue polyester blouse with quarter sleeves, sans the black blazer that matches your fitted trouser pant. You watch as he gestures to the host, as if indicating he was going to see if he could join you.

Javier didn't expect for the man to hum before approaching you first, however, in order to ask you in Japanese, "Do you want to share your table?"

Nodding, you respond, "Hai, daijoubu desu."

Javi's so impressed by the exchange that he dimly smiles when the man gestures for him to take a seat.

Once he's sat at the cozy table with you, he greets, "Buenas tardes, directora—"

Leaning forward to give him a suspicious look, you whisper, "I know there's no way you were just out wandering around this time – not in the middle of a work day, anyway – to just so happen to come in here by coincidence."

Smirking, he fiddles with the napkin and the sleeved chopsticks resting on top of it before toying with the little rectangular ramakin idly as he gives you a casual shrug, drawling, "Well, Devon recommended this place today when I stopped in to your office. Figured I'd give it a try."

"Oh, he did, did he?" you ruefully chime as you cross your arms and lean back in your chair, amused.

He nods before giving you a flirty glance, and you just shake your head at him, trying your damndest not to smile as brilliantly as you want to.

"Here is the menu, sir," the server says once he's returned with a glass of water for him to match your own.

Shaking his head, he holds up his hand reassuringly as he orders, "I'll just have what she's having."

"Ah, very good," the server bows and heads off to give the chef the order, while you squint at Javier.

"Um, have you ever had Japanese food?" you ask as he sips the cool iced water.

With a grunt, he shakes his head before remarking, "No, but if this is where you have your cheat day, I trust you to have picked something good to eat."

Snickering, you purse your plush lips sardonically before deadpanning, "Javier—"

"I didn't know you could speak Japanese," he rumbles, eyes molten and smug when you finally crack a smile. "You'll have to teach me some."

"I only know enough for proper restaurant conversation, chavón," you quip as you adjust in your seat so you can cross your leg under the table. "So? How's it been settling into things down here?"

"Not bad. Could be better, though," he remarks with an easygoing sigh before leaning back into his chair to eye you confidently when you hum and tilt your head, truly interested in hearing more. So, he crosses his arms and muses with rugged charm, "I haven't been able to concentrate much. Can't stop thinking about you, or the other night."

You press your lips together to suppress the delighted smirk threatening to crest across your features, feeling tingly from the glee his flirtatious line has sizzling up in your chest. "You mean from how worked up you got on the sofa?" is your deriding lilt, smiling cherubically at him when he frowns.

"Tan mala," he grumbles, but his chiding smirk is infectious. "You're never gonna let me live that down—"

"Why would I? It was the best compliment, knowing I have such an effect on you," is your teasing purr, winking spiritedly at him when he quells a bashful groan into his hand, feigning being gruff about it. "Hopefully you found a dry cleaner who can be discreet—"

"Do you know how hard I had to keep from squirming when I dropped my suits off, and the laundress silently judged me as she handed me the ticket?" he cuts in haughtily, and you can't help giggling at his harried pout.

"I have zero sympathy!" you sass, wrinkling your nose at him when he scoffs in faux shock. "My dress is a classic, so I ended up getting lectured about needing to be more careful with it by the doña who does my dry cleaning—"

"Get the fuck out," Javi chuckles, brown eyes lighting up with glee when you comically nudge your foot against his calf while you scoff. "Well, I can't be held responsible. That dress was a killer," he croons as he reaches over and affectionately squeezes your hand before murmuring, "But if you wear it again, I'll be more careful."

Snickering, you pinch the pressure point in the web of his hand before sneering impishly, "Beyako."

Just as he was about to say something else flirty in retort, the server arrives with your meals. "Here you are!" the man jovially announces as he places the large bamboo platter shaped like a bridge housing all the unfamiliar bounty of food at the center of the table along with the woven canoe-shaped tray filled with two orders of what looked like rounded fritters smothered in savory sauces.

Javi looked at all the food before gaping over at you. "What…is all of this?" is his awed, drawn-out query as he continues to balk at it all while you're pleasantly putting the napkin in your lap before you slip the wooden chopsticks from the paper sleeve in order to expertly snap them apart.

"Well, Mr. Suave, this is a double order of sushi, nigiri, and takoyaki," you chime as you point out each with your chopsticks before indicating row by row, "This is salmon nigiri. These are eel avocado rolls, these are spider rolls, and these yummy little rounded fritters are takoyaki. They have a piece of octopus in the center."

Giving you a perturbed look, he picks up his chopsticks and uses them to point at the center of the platter before he croaks, "Those are made of spiders?!"

You laugh out so brightly, that he instantly relaxes and enjoys how your eyes crest with mirth as your hand demurely cups over your mouth while you try to regain your composure.

"No, you dork! That's just the name. They're made with battered soft-shell crab, cucumber and avocado. But these? They are made with Japanese eel cooked in umami sauce. I promise, it's really tasty!" you assure as you align the ramekin next to your side plate and pour soy sauce into it from the ceramic bottle sitting at the center edge of the table before you pick up a piece of the aforementioned eel roll, dip it into the soy sauce, then pop it merrily in your mouth.

"Ok…if you say so," Javi tentatively mutters as he removes the chopsticks from the sleeve and tries to part them. When you see him struggling to, you reach over and snag them so you can snap them apart cleanly for him before handing them back. Smirking, he nips at his bottom lip lightly before he begins to drawl in a purr, "Thanks, mi patrona—"

"Quit flirting and start eating, chulito," you snipe playfully before picking up one of the octopus fritter balls and offering it to him.

He lets you feed him the fritter, and immediately grunts from how piping hot it is in the center. You giggle and eat your own piece, savoring it while Javi chews like a suspicious child, waiting for the bad flavor to hit.

When it doesn't, he hums neutrally before grabbing a sushi piece. "So, most of this is raw?" he queries as he struggles to use the chopsticks to pinch the piece securely.

"Actually, only the salmon nigiri is. Everything else is cooked," you tell him as you fondly watch him intrepidly try to maneuver the chopsticks, but he ends up fumbling the piece onto its side. "Here, this is the technique. You tuck them this way so you make more of a pincer motion when you grab for the piece. See?"

Following along, he manages to get the hang of it enough to move the piece from the platter to his plate. "This is a lot of work, guapita," he jokes as he gives you a puppy-eyed look. "How is this even a 'cheat day' worthy meal?! It's all fish—"

"Well, it's a lot of rice! I've tried cutting carbs out of my diet, and while the fish is mostly lean protein, the batter and the rice are what makes this a cheat-day-worthy feast," you explain, and finally take pity on him struggling to get the piece up, so you grab it easily with your chopsticks and offer to feed it to him, all while cheekily smiling as you chime, "Guess it figures you'd come around every time I indulge in something I shouldn't be."

Javi eats the piece, chewing it and savoring the odd texture, but scowls more from your remark than how exotic the flavor is to his taste buds. Once he's swallowed, he dabs the napkin over his lips before murmuring, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well, when it comes to keeping to a disciplined routine? It kind of is a bad thing," you retort aloofly before sipping your water.

Genuinely frowning now, Javi grumpily abandons the chopsticks onto his side plate and just grabs a piece of sushi with his forefinger and thumb before popping it into his mouth.

You sputter a silly giggle and snicker a haughty sound at him.

"That's impolite!"

"I'm hungry and these sticks are a pain!"

"I'll tell them to bring you a fork, then—"

"Never mind that. I can manage—"

"Ay, Javier. Let me help you—"

"You don't need to keep feeding me pieces like I'm an overgrown baby in a high chair—"

You stifle a laugh into the back of your hand and just simper, "Awww, well then quit acting like a bebito, you silly gruñón!"

He scoffs and pugnaciously picks up another piece of sushi with his fingers in order to dip it into your soy sauce before he pops it goadingly into his mouth.

"Oh, you're lucky I'm more concerned about wasting all this food than I am with your terrible table manners, tough guy," is your faux huff as you stubbornly smack his hand away when he tries to drag your soy sauce dish closer to his side of the table. "Uh-uh! You have your own. No dipping in mine."

Chewing his current bite puckishly while he pours some soy sauce into his own ramekin, Javi eyes you in a way that makes warmth fizzle effervescently in your tummy.

Gaze appraising you thoughtfully now, Javi licks his lips before asking, "Besides our little row last week…how have things been? Being back down here, and in the new job, I mean. Things are good?"

Nibbling on a fritter, you take the opportunity to think about how to answer that, unsure how much you want to say with things still feeling so tenuous—

"I never meant to come here and derail things," Javi says when you get pensive instead of answering, and after you glance back up at him, he decides to confide, "You seem…content, so, if me just being here is going to affect that? I want to know, querida."

You feel a pang tug at your heart at his words, so you let down your guard, and look him in his tense brown eyes as you assure, "Things are great right now, Javi. After I resigned from the embassy, I wasn't sure what would happen. But then I got a call with the job offer here, and the rest sort of fell into place. My father and I, we reconciled, and we're both good. It's not perfect, but I don't think it'll ever be…"

He listens as you end up telling him about all the highlights he'd missed since your time apart. From the wedding in New York, to the arrival of Ellis and Anita's first-born, as well as the wonderful time during the holidays you got to spend with your family when they visited from Colombia.

It makes him feel good to know that you had so many great people around you here, who loved and cared about you. But he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, where you'd say, 'And you being here is something I can't fit into my life. Not after everything.'

Instead, he's surprised when you admit, "—While I was livid when Ellis told me, something about it also felt…different and new."

Idly peeling the clustered ginger slivers stacked on the platter apart with your chopsticks, you allow your stream of consciousness to continue unselfconsciously with, "I've thought about it more, and really, things are totally different from what happened the last time, in Colombia. Everything was so fraught all the time, and keeping it all safe and secret just put so much pressure on us," pausing, you glance up at him with a meek smile before musing, "Here and now? Well, it's just not the case, since…everyone knows. Albeit the distorted, gossipy rendition that's been passed around for months and distilled into a simpler narrative. But still…it didn't feel as stifling, finding out the way I did. And understanding things in hindsight now helped."

Javi can't suppress the charming quirk of his brows and upward tug of his full lips, before drawling, "So, you're saying there's a chance?"

It has the intended outcome, causing you to crack a smile and snicker, shaking your head sardonically before you jab, "That's all you picked up from that whole thing?!"

"No, but it was the most important," he jibes and winks at you.

Humming imperiously, you take a long drink of water before sneering in jest, "It's almost like you want me to kick your ass, with how infuriating you behave when you should instead be humbly groveling—"

"I've literally begged you to give me another chance every time we've talked," he laconically mutters and pops a piece of nigiri into his mouth now, chewing pointedly while you taunt him with the pleased pert of your lips. Swallowing quickly in order to grumble tersely at your goading look, he mutters haughtily, "I groveled, and even got slapped silly for it—"

"What time is it?" you coolly change the subject as you nibble on the last piece of nigiri.

Grunting and narrowing his gaze grouchily, he looks at his watch.

"Whoops. Ten after lunch time," he responds before polishing off the remaining few pieces of sushi while you hum and unhurriedly finish the last takoyaki. "Did you walk here? I could call my guy to come pick us up—"

"No, that's ok. I strategically block off the half hour after lunch so I can catch up on messages or the like. I have some time," you retort before taking a piece of ginger and savoring it with a hum as you signal the server to bring the check.

"What's that?" Javi asks after seeing you eat the ginger from where it's sat on the now-empty sushi platter.

You're retrieving your purse from the back of your chair as you reply distractedly, "That's a palette cleanser. Some people put it directly on the sushi to heighten the flavor."

"Ah, ok," he remarks, reaching over to grab the little mound of bright green paste next to the slivers of ginger.

You look up from your open wallet just in time to see what he's doing. Gasping, you warn, "Javi, that's not—!"

Too late, Javier's popped the entire portion of wasabi into his mouth with his fingers before smearing it over the roof of his mouth with the flat of his tongue. Looking up at your wide-eyed grimace just as the burn of the condiment singes across his taste buds and makes him grunt in disgruntled surprised, he rushes to put his napkin to his nose when he feels the spice shoot up his sinuses.

Not wanting to spit out into his napkin and come off as even bigger of an oaf, he swallowed it thickly before grabbing his water to chug it down.

"Oh my god," you're wheezing in between simpering giggles as you quickly hand him the rest of your water and signal for the server to bring more. "I can't believe you just ate that whole thing!"

Chugging your water down and wordlessly grumbling at you, Javi feels his cheeks flush from the spice after it flooded his nasal passages and eyes, making them both water. "You said it was a palette cleanser!" he bemoans before greedily guzzling the water the server just filled into his glass.

"No, I said the ginger slivers were a palette cleanser!" you counter while forcing yourself not to dissolve into a fit of laughter.

Managing to take advantage of his distraction to hurriedly hand over your card to pay the check, you grab his hand before he rubs it across his face.

"Wait! You touched it with your fingers. Don't get it in your eyes," is your admonishing tut as you dip your napkin in your empty glass to sop up enough moisture to improvise a wet nap so you can clean his fingers with it.

"Me lleva la chingada," he grits out as you dutifully sit up from your seat to retrieve a handkerchief from your purse so you can dab the clean cloth at the corners of his eyes for him. "And it was all going so well," is his hoarse, wry grumble, which earns a flitting laugh to bubble free from you.

The server asks if everything is all right, and Javi nods while dopily flashing a thumbs up as you continue to tend to the tears running over from his eyes, and assure the man that he's ok.

A few minutes and a to-go cup of ice water in hand later, and you're both exiting the restaurant.

"—I'm so sorry, Javi. I should've called it out before," you're fretting as you take his forearm and lead him out to the sidewalk.

"Well, at the very least now, I know that if you ever want to kill me, it'll be by poisoning," he sarcastically jokes as he wipes the hankey over his eyes before accepting the offered cup of water from you.

"I'd actually say this should inspire you to be more careful with what you just shove in your mouth, jodón," is your snarky jibe as you affectionately brush the curls back from flopping across his forehead while he grunts and scowls mordantly at you. "And I would never poison you. Where's the fun in that?"

He scoffs amusedly at that before handing you the cup of water so he can pocket your hankey and feel for his cell phone. "I'll call to get us a ride—"

"It's not very far to the Federal campus," you find yourself volunteering, and at his agog expression, you suggest, "I know it's a bit muggy out, but if we stay on this side of the avenue, we'll be under the shade of the trees all the way down. And with traffic, we'd get there a lot sooner than he'd be able to get over here to pick us up."

Feeling something warm twinge behind his sternum at how you're in no rush to part ways, even after crashing and derailing your quiet lunch, Javi feels encouraged and accepts with a smile, shedding his blazer as he rumbles, "Alright, but I'm sweating like a hog—"

You take the blazer before he can fling it casually over his shoulder to instead fold, and tuck it to hang around your purse before nodding for him to follow your lead as you chime, "Come on before I change my mind, refunfuñón."

Smirking, Javi falls into step with you, and you both stroll down the sidewalk of the avenue's shady eastern side. As you go, he finishes the water in the cup and starts chewing on the ice while he banters, "You walk to the restaurant in this heat without a bother, but you couldn't handle that one heatwave in Bogotá?"

"I told you! That was more stifling heat and humidity at a higher elevation," you counter and playfully nudge your shoulder into the side of his arm. "At least here you get a breeze every once in a while. And there's always a rainstorm that'll cool things down a bit," is your easygoing musing, before you scathe wryly, "And anyway, you're literally wearing a half-unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt, so quit complaining."

It's the perfect excuse to give him a stern leer and silently drool over his toned arms and broad shoulders while he scoffs and slicks the hair back from his forehead.

"Yeah well, you're friolenta. I run hotter than you," he tuts matter-of-factly before crunching on another piece of melty ice. "It's so hot down here, I left all my jackets back home—"

"Even the leather one?" you query with a pout, which gets him to chuckle and nod. "Well, this is a nice suit, in any case," is your amiable chime as you adjust his draped blazer on your purse, before teasingly drawling, "…Nice to see you finally spruced your wardrobe up for the current decade—

"Criticona," he rumbles and nudges his shoulder into you, which makes you squeak and slap his bicep with a laugh, which makes him chuckle and bite his lip to stop from grinning. "But sure, yeah, I got a few new suits. Maybe I'll let you peruse them next time you come over?" is his flirted proposition before crunching on the last piece of ice and depositing the paper cup into a trash receptacle on the corner you've both arrived at and need to wait for the pedestrian light to switch green.

Giving Javi a coy glance, you sass, "See? You gripe about me teasing you over your clothes, but you always seek out my fashion expertise and crave my approval." When Javi shoots you a humorously defiant look, you razz, "I think you really bought the new suits because you've been working out and your old blazers are now too snug. Am I right?"

Javi's mouth bobs open to contradict you, but he realizes he can't, because that was partly true, so instead he squints cunningly at you before crooning, "Have you been checking me out, bravita?"

Expression lighting up with surprise at how quickly he turned the teasing around on you, the tickle of excitement that skitters into your core has you feeling overheated now, even with the nice breeze that billows through the lush canopies overhead. The cool air filters his cologne and the hint of his sweaty skin to you, and you watch as his dark brewed eyes flutter, unaware that the waft of your own perfume has him feeling warm and fuzzy.

The crosswalk light finally changes to green, so you hitch your purse strap high on your shoulder in order to tuck it and his blazer to your side as you lean close to him now.

"Well, it's been kind of hard not to notice," you silkily murmur whilst you trail your fingertips teasingly down his chest to skim all the way to where the shirt is tucked into his pants, emphasis on the operative word you purred as your touch brushes over his taut tummy.

The way Javi's breath hitches and his eyes get dark is exactly what you were looking to rile out of him, so you smile enchantingly before turning to trot down the crosswalk, shooting him a coquettish glance over your shoulder when he stays rooted in his spot.

"You coming, stud?"

Javier takes a cleansing breath and reins the impulse to run over and sweep you up in his arms so he can instead sprint over and take your hand bossily in order to thread it in the crook of his arm as he escorts you across the street to the next shady sidewalk.

"Atrevida," he growls into your ear, and you triumphantly hold your head high as he reluctantly lets your hand go once you've fallen back into your casually ambling step, only for you to surprise him by brushing the back of your palm against his before slipping your hand to take his much larger one, giving it a flirty squeeze.

He stares down at it before looking fawningly at you, smiling when you let him interlace his fingers with yours.

Not wanting to jinx a thing, Javi relishes just walking hand-in-hand the few minutes left in comfortable silence all the way back to the main gate of the Federal campus, content by the affectionate way you squeeze his hand from time to time as you both stroll together.

That is, until it's time to cross over to the western side of the avenue.

You hand him his blazer so he can retrieve his security pass while you both hustle across once traffic slows, and then dig through your purse for your own credentials while he follows you to the entry to get let through the gate.

He wants so badly to ask you out – hell, to kiss you right here and now as you're both loping up the walkway towards the building, but knows he shouldn't. Not so close to the offices, and definitely not when he can already feel glances from the few employees that are milling about as you both near the doors leading into the sprawling foyer and security reception desk.

You're so poised and unruffled, though, and he gets distracted by how you casually smile up at him that he doesn't even notice Kike as he walks by. The rookie is in the outer entry, flirting one of the workers sitting on a cement bench, and only pauses when he catches Javier's eye.

He's about to call out and wave, but notices he's not alone, so he gestures to the office worker that he'll talk to her more some other time so he can rush over, eager to pepper Javier with questions, when he slows at seeing you turn to Javier with a serene look relaxing your features as you gaze up into his soulful brown eyes.

"I enjoyed the impromptu lunch, chavón. So sorry again about the wasabi!" you tell him irreverently as you make a silly grimace.

"Ah, no harm done. I don't think I'll ever have allergies again, and I'm pretty sure I can smell colors now, so," he jibes with a shrug, and you snicker irreverently at him. "And anyway, you can just make it up to me—"

"Huh, it's always some quid pro quo with you, agente," you banter back before gesturing you have to go, as you muse, "Next meeting's in a few, so, gotta run. Have a good rest of your day."

Nodding, he shrugs on his blazer before digging your handkerchief from his pocket and calling out, "Oh, here, forgot to give this back—"

You smile and motion with your hand for him not to worry whilst waltzing towards the doors as you say convivially, "You keep it. With your spicy food track record, it might come in handy soon enough."

Snorting, Javi pockets the soft hankey as he watches you go. He feels wistful and glad, mind already thinking about when he can possibly see you next, when a catcall-like whistle sounds from his left as Kike approaches.

"Wow, que mami más dura," he whispers conspiratorially to Javi, who shakes his head humorously as he turns to lope towards where Kike left the car. "No disrespect! Just, wow…very beautiful. Way to go, boss—"

"Don't let her hear you calling her any of that, if you know what's good for you," Javi laconically deadpans as he gets in the car.

" ¡Chacho, claro que no!" Kike assures after he's gotten in the driver's seat, smirking in solidarity with Javi as he turns the car on and gives him a goofy look, as if to say, 'Game recognize game!'

The rest of your day goes by quick, thanks to your mind wandering every so often to how much you'd wanted to throw your arms around Javier's shoulders and kiss him silly.

Everything felt different. Sure, it was undeniable that you both had a knack for reliving the same back and forth – rehashing old patterns that made you wary of trusting again. But there was a big part of you now – one wiser to what you were tired of denying – that felt secure enough to be able to let your guard down around him again. To disregard resentments towards allowing him back into your life, and placate the worries you have about ending up right back in the same place you were, so many months ago: alone, heartbroken, and lost.

However, you wanted to ease into this. Well, whatever this was going to be, now that you both were in a new place together, surrounded by the knowing eyes of coworkers and other agency officials alike. Not to mention the surreptitious awareness of your father that seemed to permeate even the least-expected corners of your day-to-day life.

Oh god. Would Javi even want to deal with any of that?

Stowing the thought away, you make it down to the ground floor from the elevator now at the end of the workday, eager to get home and veg out in front of the TV on your lazy cheat day, when you notice a certain blond trekking to the exit across the way from you.

"Hey, Murphy!"

Steve freezes at hearing his name called so informally, and whirls around with a scowl on his features before comically blinking at you and getting tense when he sees you march over to him.

"Oh, hey!" Steve greets in that smooth rasp of his, smile lopsided as he idly fidgets his weight from one foot to the other. "How're things—?"

"Tell me something, Steven. Back when you first got here? And we ran into each other in the lobby and caught up? You knew Javier was coming down here the whole time, right?" you bossily inquire as you cross your arms and lean your weight onto one hip as you tap your foot.

Hedging, he stammers good-naturedly, "I mean, y-yeah, technically, but I couldn't mention it—"

"Hm, is that so?" you jeer, eyes narrowing on him and actually making him edgy with anticipation. "You're on my shitlist for that, dude. And, I expect you to make it up to me by arranging a double date so I can meet Connie and befriend her," is your suddenly wily proclamation as you smirk mischievously at him now, enjoying how his dumbfounded expression melts into wry shock. "Sound like a plan?"

Grinning, he amusedly nods and assures, "Damn straight, it does. I'll see to it, hun."

"Good," you chime before leaning up and pecking his cheek platonically before breezing by him to the exit. "Have a nice night, Steve."

"You too, Celina," he snorts as he watches you go, marveling at how good you had him sweating there for a minute.

Luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait long to fill his partner in on the whiplash-inducing encounter, thanks to Javi having agreed to come over for dinner that night.

He waited until a lull in the conversation not taken up by the kids pulling everyone's attention to them, to finally remark, "So, I had an interesting run-in today."

Javi looks up from the page of the coloring book he was currently helping Olivia fill in to see Steve was directing the comment to him.

"Oh?" he drawls before snickering when Olivia got impatient and took the green crayon from him in order to finish coloring in the tree.

Grunting intriguingly, Steve leans back in his chair to conspiratorially rasp to Connie as she feeds the baby a bottle, "Don't know what he did, but Javi's girl marched up to me and had me sweating when she confronted me about not having mentioned knowing that he was coming down here. Just when I thought she was gonna squash me like a bug, she said I needed to make it up to her by arranging a double date."

Smiling impishly, Connie looks over at Javi's stunned expression. "Great! It's long overdue. Just need to coordinate with the babysitter—"

"Wait – when did she say this?" Javi asks in a hushed tone and shifts in his seat to cup his cheek and lean his elbow onto the table, so not to distract the little girl sat next to him from her furious coloring.

"End of day when I was heading out," Steve retorts and crosses his arms casually before adding, "She also said I was on her s-h-i-t list, and that the double date is so she can befriend Connie."

Javier snorts and shakes his head as he tosses himself back into his chair. "Oh, great. That's all we need: the two of them getting in cahoots—"

"That's right. And what would be so wrong with that, hm?" Connie counters quippingly as she shifts the baby to her shoulder so she can burp her.

"Not a thing," Javi chuckles and shrugs before going to lean back over to resume watching Olivia color the once blank flower-filled park using bright colors from her crayon box.

Steve notices how lighter Javier's been since after the happy hour at the hotel. He'd figured something had occurred, but in true fashion, the man was mum about it. Every time he'd tried to coax it out of him, all he'd gotten was a musing, 'I'll tell you once there's something worth telling.'

"Would this be the first official date, then?" Steve fishes, as he busies himself with collecting the empty plates on his and Connie's side of the table.

Looking up with a frown, Javi hums, "…Damn, it would be—"

"That's a bad word, uncle Javi. You need to put a quarter in the swear jar!" Olivia suddenly pipes up and gives him a doe-eyed look that is more precocious thanks to the little smile on her lips. "Once it's filled up, we can get ice cream!"

Javi laughs, already going into his pocket for the change. "Well, here. Put it in the jar for me, would yah?" is his gentle chuckle as he hands her the quarter.

Merrily getting up to go do so, Olivia tots into the living room to plop the coin into the jar with the rest of the change.

After the table is cleared, Connie puts the baby down in her crib and helps Olivia get ready for bed while Javier and Steve remain at the kitchen table, pouring over case files for a bit.

Truthfully, though, Javi keeps getting distracted with thoughts of you. After a half hour of that, Steve notices and decides to suggest just picking it back up the following day when they're both scheduled to be at the office at the same time.

"Go home, you lovesick fool," he can't help haze as he walks Javi to the door a few minutes later. "And about that morning jog—"

"Nope. You're not backing out," Javi cuts in and claps him on the back before tutting, "I'll be at your door at 6, bud."

Huffing noisily, Steve relents and wishes him a good night.

You're not thinking a damn thing about working out the next morning, not with how nice and comfy you are, curled up on your couch with some mini chocolate chip cookies you're nibbling on as you watch a sitcom on cable while clad in a loose-fitting lounge-friendly top and short set.

The balcony slider is open to let in the nice cool breeze, and you're enjoying how it lulls over your skin with the help of the slow circulating ceiling fan above. So much so, that you have to shake yourself back to sharp awareness from staring tiredly at the television when your cell phone starts ringing on the side table next to you.

Setting the bag of cookies aside and shifting up to reach for it, you press the button to pick up the call before bringing it to your ear. "Hello?"

"I'm not interrupting anything important, am I, jefa?" is the honeyed baritone drawl on the other end, which instantly unearths a warm tingle to zing through you and a charmed smile to tug broadly across your face.

"No. Although, just like I said earlier, you have a knack for materializing in some way when I'm indulging," you remark in a playful lilt as you shift up on the sofa to pull your knees against your chest when he hums interestedly.

"Oh? What're you snacking on? No, wait – let me guess," Javi smoothly charms before offering, "Chocolate? Or maybe cookies?"

You chuckle, licking your bottom lip before chirping, "Both. Chocolate chip cookies."

"Yum," is his raspy hum. "Sounds like a successful cheat day, all things considered, hermosa."

Snickering, you lean back into the cushion as you muse, "I'll be paying for it tomorrow. You doing ok, post-wasabi disaster?"

"All good. Well, except for my gringo partner letting me know he had a mighty tough run in with a feisty boss lady today—"

"Ah, so that's what's inspired this call," you impishly snicker before following up curiously, "Did that seem like a fair request?"

"It did. Connie loved the idea, so we'll definitely do it," Javi retorts assuredly, then murmurs with baritone like honeyed gravel, "But, before then, I was hoping you'd be interested in going out, just you and me?"

You feel your heart summersault at the proposition, but hedge a bit before asking, "Oh? What would you like to do?"

Freshly showered and only in a pair of loose-fitting boxers, Javi lays more comfortably in order to stretch out on his bed, then pins the cell phone with his shoulder so it stays perched to his ear as he toys with the soft handkerchief before raising it to his nose to scent your delicate perfume from it.

Picturing you when you were smiling at him in front of the building earlier that day, Javi croons smoothly, "Well, I haven't really seen El Viejo San Juan yet. Maybe you can show me around, be my tour guide? You did say the murrallas in Cartagena didn't really compare to, what was it—?"

"El Morro," you finish, and by your tone, he can tell you're smiling. "I can't believe you remembered that—"

"Well, you left an intriguing impression, querida," he husks as he dotingly clutches the handkerchief in his palm and rests it against his chest. "Are you free after work tomorrow? I could come pick you up at your place, and we can do an early evening stroll," is his cool proposal, trying to keep the eagerness out of his tone.

There's a quiet couple of seconds on the other line before you sigh, and answer, "Yeah, I'm free. Your driver gonna tag along—?"

"Nope. Tomorrow I'm picking up the requisitioned car I got for personal use. The rookie's only gonna drive me during the week to meetings," he tells you as he rolls over to retrieve his little book from his nightstand before asking you for your address. Once you've given it to him, he suggests, "Pick you up around 6?"

"Sure. I'll meet you out front," you answer in a relaxed timbre, before adding, "Oh! And be sure to wear comfortable clothes, especially practical shoes."

"So no heels?" he jokes, and you scoff derisively. "I'll see you tomorrow, preciosa."

"Ok. Goodnight, chulito. Bye."

Javier lays flat on the bed and smiles up at the ceiling.

That effervescent, warm feeling fills his chest when he thinks about getting to see you again, and keeps fizzling up throughout the next day every time his mind wanders to the plan after work.

Luckily, he has Steve to keep towing him back from daydreaming.

The wryly smirking blond just tossed a paperclip at him from his side of the conference table, which pulled Javi back from his pining thoughts to squint questioningly at him.

"I said, the bust in St. Thomas was too big for it to all have come from speed boats, so I'm thinking there's gotta be some other transport that's moving large quantities of coke through that corridor. Any ideas?" Steve says in a musing drone, tapping his pen idly over the stack of files he's been reading.

With a shrug, Javi retorts, "Cali used to fly it in on cargo aircrafts. Before that, Medellín couriered it across the Caribbean in small planes, then ferried it up through Florida by speedboat. Might be a combination here? So maybe we check flight manifests? Most Cessnas flying out of the big island don't get inspected for cargo."

"Yeah, but still. That's a lot of flights back and forth. Definitely would draw attention," Steve grumbles as he looks over the total weigh-in for the seized bust. "And supposedly that area came up clean in a surveillance sweep just a week prior, so no way a bunch of planes and speedboats could bring in five tons like that in such a short window—"

Javi sits up and pulls one of the transport maps for large vessels that dock in ports off each island after stopping at one of the two major import and export depots on the big island of Puerto Rico. Staring at it, he grunts and traces his fingers to delineate a route to Steve as he thinks out loud, "Maybe they're not using either, and it's one of the container ships? Look, this shipping lane goes right by the area they found the stash. So, they empty a container here in Yabucoa, fill it up with the coke after and put it on a container ship. No customs checks, and they get it over in a day or so, if the seas aren't rough."

"Ok, but the waters are too shallow for them to go to any other makeshift port," Steve is looking at the bathymetric map before pointing to the specific sea floor depth for that corridor. "See? That means they're either unloading the container at the main port, or while they're still at sea somewhere?"

Crossing his arms and pondering, Javi stares at the maps, unsure of what would be the most likely possibility. "Shit…if the container makes it to the port, that means they have someone in customs helping get it out without being checked and transporting it on a truck out to this drop location. Or, the vessel makes an unscheduled stop somewhere mid-transit to unload the container off to another boat that then smuggles it the rest of the way," he pauses to look up at Steve with a scowl before muttering, "Either way, that's really fucking bad for us."

Nodding in reluctant agreement, Steve exhales as he scrubs his hand across his cheek. "Yep. Means we have a bigger corruption problem here than we thought," is his huff before checking his watch. "Is it bad you and I are still doing this shit ourselves when we have assistant special agents in charge who could be doing the heavy lifting?"

"Yeah, well, I like doing my own work. Plus, my guy is a pain in the ass," Javi laconically sneers as he reaches for his coffee mug and drinks while Steve chuckles at his expense.

"I'd trade yah, but Petersen is decent, so far, and he's out on St. John," Steve remarks, amused when Javier rolls his eyes and starts sifting through documents in his folder for something. "If you don't like Segarra, just have him reassigned."

"He's got an uncle that works in the governor's cabinet, so that's not really an option, unless he royally fucks up," Javi grumbles, before evenly quipping, "Wanna trade SAC roles?"

Snorting, Steve picks up his stuff and pockets his pen as he drawls, "So you'd want to take monthly trips out to the islands and be away from your girl?"

Glowering, Javi shakes his head as he deadpans, "Yeah, on second thought? Screw that."

Steve laughs as he heads to the door with a parting goodbye chuckled over his shoulder.

It's just then that Javi finds the document he'd been looking for, and reads from it as he collects the folder and his blazer, multitasking scanning the numbers of seizures in the last six months with hustling back to his office.

How the hell are they pulling this off? They'd have to pay off the dock manager, customs, an entire crew on the ship—hell, someone in the government, even. But that would be so brazen, even all things considered. Not to mention funneling the money around quickly and cleanly without setting off alarms with the banking institutions here, Javi is pondering as he goes. It doesn't seem sophisticated, but they really are operating like a mafia down here. And like any mafia, they've clearly found a way to clean their money, so maybe if we find that, the rest of this will start to make more sense.

His ruminating thoughts are interrupted by a knock on his office's door. "Come in."

"You got a sec, boss?" Lopez asks after poking his head in. Once Javi's nodded and waved him in, the agent saunters through and sits in one of the seats in front of the desk. "So, I know you shut down that raid the ASAC had been pushing for, but now Duffy just got word from his contact in the Guardia Nacional that they're coordinating a sting operation, off the books, with the local municipal police. It seems kind of suspicious that all of a sudden, the same raid is gonna happen with the locals," is his gruff charge.

"Fucking hell," Javi grouses as he rubs his hand over his mouth testily while he thinks. "Any chance they were tipped off by someone on our side?"

"I mean…this seems punitive," Lopez mutters, the accusation unspoken, but clear to Javi. Segarra is making a power play.

"Alright…I'll make a few calls," Javier huffs, already beyond aggravated. "What about your informant? Anything else there?"

"Yeah. They've basically said the caserío is just a decoy. They don't conduct real business there and the drugs that do move through there are for the smaller dealers who are trying to make a name for themselves in order to get into the larger crew," Lopez explains, adding, "If we raid the place, it'll just confirm their suspicions and undo any opportunity to really track the cartel's dealings with the street gangs."

Nodding, Javi thanks Lopez and tells him to keep his ear to the ground.

Once the man exits his office, Javier then calls the lead commander for the National Guard on the island, who then dials in the head of the municipal police the public housing unit in question resides in, and in not so many words, tells both men that they better not go through with the raid, or else he will tell the governor's office they acted against the DEA's protocols.

And as expected, the municipal captain griped, "We got the tip from your ASAC, so I thought this was an interagency partnership?"

Assuring the man that his ASAC did not have the authority to coordinate such a thing, and to please make sure they always reach out to him first if anything similar occurs, Javi got both their commitments and confirmations that the sting would not take place.

Furious, Javi got up from his desk and stormed out of his office.

The DEA department was busy with phone chatter and typing as he stalked through the space towards the ASAC's office on the opposite side of the wing, and many couldn't help notice how imposing he looked as he went, making it a point to avoid crossing his path. He knew his reputation from Colombia preceded him, and he didn't care, especially now as he barged into his assistant's office and slammed the door behind himself while the man balked at him from his desk.

"I-let me call you back," the other man rushed into the phone quickly before hanging it up and gaping at Javier. "Boss, what's up—?"

"I'm going to tell you this only once. You ever go over my fucking head or around my back again, I'll make sure you get busted down to rookie agent and shipped off to a real fucking hellhole your uncle won't be able to win you favor in," Javi thunders before snapping when Segarra begins to deny, "Don't even bother bullshitting me. I spoke to the locals, and they confirmed you tipped them off on that caserío point. They know now not to listen to anything coming from DEA unless it comes from my fucking mouth. I don't give a damn who you're related to. The next time you step out of line, you better have your shit packed already so you can go work for your uncle as a goddamned gopher. You got me?"

Segarra looked like he'd been steamrolled and doused in lemon juice after that, so all he could muster was a jerky nod and croaked, "Y-Yes, sir. Sorry, sir!"

Without a second look, Javi turns on his heels and storms out of the man's office, throwing the door open so roughly that it banged into the wall with a loud slam.

The office chatter muted around him as he traversed through the department back the way he came with another sharp slam of his door.

While the whispered murmurs began to hum between cubicles and filter over to the agent bullpen down the way, you were just wrapping up another assessment of the current network bandwidth post-onboarding.

Everything went fairly smoothly, except for the problem you knew you could no longer ignore: the nepotism factor.

There were staff members in the operations division overall that weren't exactly qualified to do the work required for the position they filled, but had been placed there nonetheless by well-meaning friends and families in high-up places who'd called in favors for their son or the like to be acomodado.

El acomodo was to be placed in a job or occupation. While typically that usually hinged on having the credentials or experience that would make for the proper fit in said job or occupation, in Puerto Rico, it was usually the opposite. Or at the bare minimum, someone's résumé was juiced up enough to make them passing on paper to fill the role, even at the detriment of more qualified candidates. Acomodando someone could even include placing a kid in an elite school or program that was competitive. It was often seen as a harmless grift, albeit unfair, but when it escalated into favoritism or favors – political, financial, or reputational – it often eroded public trust. However, it was a dirty not-so-secret, and every time a scandal broke, it would burn out until the next quid-pro-quo was revealed by the local news.

While you've worked very hard to get to where you are today, there is a part of you that feels guilty to have been privileged enough to get into good schools and had good words put in for you. It also doesn't help that you have no doubt that your father has used his influence to remove obstacles from your path. He would never admit it, though, but you felt it at times by the way people would greet you, or know to reference him to you in some way.

For the most part, you'd avoided that in Colombia. But back here? You were hard pressed to not run into someone who knows of your father, either by reputation or direct association. You could blame it on his unique surname, or the way he's successfully networked to make himself a person of reputation across all echelons.

Being the first and only Puerto Rican to become a Vice Admiral in the U.S. Navy didn't hurt either, sure.

Annoyed with yourself at having to start making the arrangements you'd been hoping to avoid regarding the personnel adjustments needed, you allow your mind to wander to your early evening plans with Javi.

You were excited to see him again, and looking forward to taking him around Old San Juan, but part of you was anxious about moving too fast. It only compounded when you recalled his words to you that night.

"I came here for you…I came here to be withyou, Celina…"

Your heart squeezed in your chest every time you thought about it, and while your feelings hadn't stopped burning for him, there was a weary part of you afraid of letting your love overtake you again. Like it had every other time before you and Javi found your way back to each other, only to be flung apart by some chaotic circumstance that hadn't been in your control. It didn't help that part of you questioned how serious he was. After all, he'd said he didn't care about the job – had practically implied he'd only taken the SAC position in order to come to Puerto Rico to get you back.

Even if that was the case, you didn't know how to feel about that. It was flattering, but scary, but exasperating, but overwhelming to think that he would be so flippant with his career all because his motives were focused elsewhere, let alone that you were seemingly the only reason he'd taken the job. That he intended to orbit you in the hopes your gravitation would draw you back to each other once again.

Your ambivalence wasn't helped by how unsure you were with yourself. There was something raw and yearning within you that wanted to leap back into his arms and profess your love eternal, but the skittish, protective force that kept your walls up couldn't drop its guard like that, no matter how much you believed Javier now that he hadn't intended for things to go as bad as they had. No, it was all too muddled by your own insecurities, leaving you questioning whether you were even worthy of his passion and devotion.

What if he realizes he's made a mistake? That he's just as miserable being back in the DEA and dealing with the shit here than he was before, and doesn't want to put up with all the hassle of being with you? Of the scrutiny and judgment of it being known by all that we're together? What if he expects so much more now from you, and you can't give him what he needs?

What if I don't deserve him?

If Javier knew how tangled up you were about the unspoken things remaining between you both, and how much it was weighing on your heart, he'd be going about things totally different with you right now.

Instead of rushing through astounding amounts of traffic to get to your apartment on time, he would've gone to get a ring, gotten down on one knee, and assuaged you of any doubts in your head that he didn't want anything else in the world but to be with you forever. But, quite the opposite was in his head.

Sure, he wanted to ask you to marry him. Hell, he was up for eloping and running away to wherever you wanted, but he kept that impulsive part of him in check by admonishingly berating himself.

You can't expect her to want to marry you just like that! Things are back to square one, and trust will need to be built back up before you can even consider proposing to her. Gonna have to take it slow – let her set the pace of things. See how far she's willing to allow things to get back to where they were before—

Honking cars sweep his internal monologue away, and he focuses on the bumper-to-bumper traffic becoming a standstill at the height of after-5pm rush hour. Checking his watch, he grumbles as he snatches up the folded map that's in close reach in order to skim alternate routes he could take, peering over the rim of his aviators down at the woven streets off of the highway.

He'd gone to his place after work to quickly shower, shave, and change into comfortable clothes, eager to get over to your condo with enough time to spare so he could park and go up to the door to escort you down. But now, with how he's inching over lanes to get to the next exit in order to back route it to your street, he's aggravated that he's going to be running so late.

Javi doesn't know that you'd had to contend with the same level of traffic, even after avoiding the highway and sticking to the city routes you knew, so you were currently running around your apartment rushing to get ready. Freshly showered, you shimmy into your outfit and spend way too long fussing with what to do with your hair before you look at the clock and swear under your breath – worried Javier is parked out front waiting for you and wondering why you're so late in coming down.

You've just pulled on your shoes after putting on some tinted lip balm when your cell phone starts ringing. Sprinting over to the nightstand to grab it, you answer it already apologizing, "I'm so sorry! Traffic was nuts so I'm way behind getting ready—"

"Oh, that's alright! I just pulled up to the curb. The roads are a nightmare, so no rush, querida," Javi assures in a smooth baritone.

"Ok, I'll be down in 5 minutes!" you insist before hanging up to finish fretting over your appearance in the mirror.

Frowning, Javi returns the cell phone to the center dash. He'd been hoping he could've gone up to your apartment and chivalrously escorted you down to the car, but your condo building was fenced off with a security and carport gate that required a passcode for entry. Flustered with being late, he ends up busily popping a mint into his mouth and crunching on it while he lowers the visor so he can peer at his appearance in the mirror.

He's fussing with his hair in the reflection when he sees the entry gate of the walkway open. Slapping the visor shut and giving the interior of his car one last glance, he gets out and walks around to the sidewalk in order to greet you.

As you shut the gate behind yourself, you see him out of the corner of your eye approaching, so you exclaim, "Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting—"

Javi pauses in his tracks when you turn and smile at him. He's punch-drunk by how you're dressed, feeling a scintillating déjà vu flood him over with heat that has him slipping his sunglasses off to stare at you.

You look relaxed and flirty in the capri-style light denim jeans, peach-toned camisole top, and leather sandalia-clad feet, hair gathered up in a twist with the rose-shaped clasp. Sans makeup except for the balm on your lips, you look seraphic and enchanting, especially when you approach him after putting your keys in your purse so you can have your hands free to rest them on his shoulders as you lean up and peck him on the lips hello.

"This is your idea of comfy clothing, eh?" you can't help razz as you step back and give him a sassy once over. "And boots?"

He snorts and slips his sunglasses into his dusky blue cotton button down shirt's breast pocket before chivalrously opening the passenger door for you. The infamous blue Levi's look just as impeccable on him as you remember, and his ass is begging for a squeeze when he leans in to adjust the passenger seat back for you to have ample leg room.

You manage to not give into the impulse of groping him, but just barely.

"These are my most comfortable pair, criticona," Javi teasingly mutters as he steps aside for you to get into the dark gray SUV. Once he closes your door for you, he circles to the driver's side and gets in, remarking, "I don't know what's going on, but traffic was ridiculous—"

"Today is the semi-final game for the Serie del Caribe, and Puerto Rico has been sweeping the tournament, so getting to the baseball stadium is a hot-ticket event," you tell him before sheepishly musing, "It totally slipped my mind! I remembered when I hit traffic right outside of my usual route home. I should've called and warned you—"

"Nah, that's all right," is his warm assurance, as he drives off. "You'll have to act as navigator, though, since I want to avoid the way I came," he remarks as he nods towards the folded-up map tucked between the center console and seat.

"Ah, luckily, the traffic shouldn't be an issue going into Old San Juan. Just keep straight, and at the end, turn right to merge onto the route towards the bridge," you're instructing as you adjust your seatbelt and smile, then remark, "Ellis has this car, too, only in tan. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, uh, I know," Javi chuckles, subtly reminding you that he'd ridden in the Ellis' tan Montero after you'd cussed him out and stormed off. He snickers when you bite your lip at the recall, and rumbles, "It's not bad. Not so different from other SUVs I've driven. Surprised by all the foreign cars down here."

"Yeah, Japanese cars have gotten really popular down here. They're more compact and fuel-efficient," you remark as you point to where he needs to go as he merges into the lane he needs to take to go over the bridge that connects the islet to the rest of the metropolitan area.

You keep making light conversation as you guide him through traffic to take the best routes into El Viejo San Juan's city center, and jovially point out landmarks to him as you go. Javier smiles when you excitedly lean over to point at the Capitolio and explain how that's where the Puerto Rican Congress and Senate gather.

"Is that El Morro?" he asks as he drives by the massive outer walls of what looks like a sprawling fortification with ample grounds that overlook the ocean.

"No, that's El Castillo San Cristobal. Oh, take this left here," you answer and direct, then proceed to guide him to the nearest carpark garage.

Once he's found an empty space and parked, he leaves his aviators in the dash cubby and pockets his cell phone before you lead him down to street level, leaving the building's front loggia before convivially taking his hand and excitedly towing him along to begin the romantic excursion.

It's a cloudy afternoon, but the brisk air is breezy and cool, and the sun peeks through every so often, warming your skin whenever it seeps around the tree-lined street's Spanish edifices. The foot traffic is meandering but not congested, so you're both able to stroll together without having people to really weave through. You think it's nice, and the fluttering current undulates around you both every so often and brings his warm, spicy cologne to tickle your nose and make you lean in closer to him.

Javi is dying to kiss you. Had been since the day before. But he doesn't want to derail you, or make it seem like all he wants is to jump right back into the carnality of wanting and having you. No, he's on his best behavior, treating this like a first date and corralling all base desire in order to focus and be present with you. Especially when you exuberantly lead him to cross the street so you both can stroll past shops while you gush about your favorite places to go when you're in Old San Juan.

"—It's so nice out today, but it would be even better to come on the weekend or when the cruise ships anchor at port, because all sorts of vendors, artesanos and performers line the streets and flank El Paseo de la Princesa," you're telling him as he interlaces his fingers with yours and marvels at the old-world charm of the buildings.

When you pass a few restaurants with outside seating on the front sidewalk, Javi squeezes your hand and gestures to the façade of a building he recognizes. "Steve and Connie took me here for dinner—"

At your scoff, he blinks down at you and sees you shaking your head at him with a wry smile before you tug him along to briskly stride away. "That's a tourist trap, Javi. Where all the gringos go for 'authentic Puerto Rican cuisine' and get mediocre arróz con habichuelas y bistec. What a travesty," is your snarky appraisal of the place before tutting playfully to him, "For shame, chavón—"

"It was alright," he chuckles, and at your sassy scoff, he tows you back when he pauses in stride so he can lean in to whisper in your ear, "Tan exijona. Luckily, I'm more than happy to let you guide me wherever you see fit."

The giddy tingle that courses down into your core has you tempted to just slink up against him in order to kiss his smugness away, but you control yourself and instead lilt, "I'm happy to guide you to real authentic Puerto Rican food soon, galán. But, for now? We're making the most of this early evening tour!"

He chuckles and lets you take his arm so you can thread it with yours and escort him along to the next corner before the street opens up into a larger avenue overlooking the southern precinct of the islet. When Javi points out the impressive edifice across the way that takes up an entire city block, and asks, "What's that building?" you smile.

"That is the first US federal building of significance built on the island. It's where the old Post Office was housed, and it's an active US courthouse. It faces the harbor, and was constructed on an old Spanish customs house. There used to be fortifications that were part of the bastion up ahead, but they made way for this building when the US beat Spain and took the island as a territory," you're telling him as you both cross the street and walk the sidewalk along the building's north side.

He's impressed as he looks up while you both lope by, and lets you point out more sights and landmarks once you get to the front entrance of the building that overlooks a cobblestone pedestrian inlet flanked by barriers that delineate it for foot traffic while drivers mill around it to traverse one-way routes in and out of the harbor-facing precinct.

Pretty soon, you're both ambling over to one of your favorite jaunts: El Paseo de la Princesa. It's a lovely, picturesquely timeless promenade that looks up at the city that yawns upwards on the hilly terrain it settled on centuries ago, flanked by the bastions with alcoves Javi knew were called garitas, aka sentry boxes for Spanish soldiers, standing watch. As you amble casually down the tree-lined, cobblestone promenade, you point out more sights, happily answering Javi's follow-up questions.

He's utterly charmed by the wonderful stroll with you, and genuinely interested in the history of each landmark you tell him about as you lope down until the impressive bronze-sculptured adorned fountain at the end of the promenade comes into view. At this time of day, La Fuente Raíces looks older than it actually is thanks to the rays of dusk gleaming off the waters from the harbor and haloing in the majestic misted spray of the fountain's many nozzles jettisoning the water around the monument depicting all of the different roots that make up the people of Puerto Rico. The bronze figure at the center of the monument is reaching up to the sky, and Javi stands before it to admire how majestic the landmark is.

He's noticing how the flag poles that align the perimeter of the end of the promenade are flying the US and Puerto Rican flags, and is about to comment on how intrigued he was that both were variations of red, white and blue – albeit with a single star versus the fifty he's used to, when you adjust your purse to be crossbody so you can grab his arm with both your hands and pull him closer to the fountain.

"Come, if you stand over here, you can see how the light from the sun makes the statues glow gold and copper," you're telling him jubilantly as you lead him to stand just behind and to the side of the fountain, where the breeze coming off of the harbor brings the fine mist from the water spraying up to the sky to sprinkle lightly over you both.

The glow of the sun from this angle is stunning, and when Javi looks from the bronze monument pedestaled at the center of the fountain to you, his dark brown eyes flare like rich cocoa under the light.

His breath catches in his chest from how radiant you look under the dusky sky, and before he's registered the impulse, he's cupped your cheek and leaned forward to kiss you with a passion unmatched by the heat of the sun's dying rays.

You don't shy away from it, and instead lean into him as you deepen the kiss, heart racing when his hand cups the small of your back, holding you close to him.

With the mist from the fountain carried over by the breeze, Javi is inundated with the smell of your dewy skin and the scent of your perfume, so much so that he reluctantly breaks the kiss in order to nuzzle you and sigh.

"You really know how to romance me, cariño," he husks ruggedly, and you snicker before amusedly swatting his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, quit getting carried away, suavón. We got a lot of walking and sightseeing to do before the sun sets, so c'mon," is your deriding murmur as you take his hand and tug him along to a walkway of patterned pavers that veers off from the promenade.

The path skirts the rocky edge of the shore and looks out to the bay, flanking the outer walls of the fortified city and leading to La Puerta de San Juan – the iconic gate that led into the historic city's walls. As you walk, you and Javi canoodle closer under the ruse of chatting more intimately in the cloistered walkway while the breeze and crashing of the waves made up the ambience around you both.

His arm slips around you and yours around his waist as you near the tree-canopied park just outside the ancient gate. Plenty of people are enjoying the breeze and sitting on the benches around the shade-abundant gathering place, and Javi is admiring the charming surroundings when you glance up at him and smile.

"Right through the gate, at the top of the street is one of the entrances to La Fortaleza, where the governor resides," you're remarking as you both meander up the path towards the fortified entry. "From here on, most of the city is on an incline going towards El Morro, so hope you can keep up—"

Javi hears the goading challenge in your lilting tone and gives you a smug grunt. "Just lead the way, guapita," is his puckish drawl as he affectionately pinches your waist.

Giggling and detaching from his side, you impishly skip ahead before making a come-hither gesture as you purr, "Vente, señorito."

He scoffs, licking his bottom lip and eyeing you as he marches on long strides to catch up, just before you amble off cheekily.

You skip up through the open gate and make it to the top of the street, expecting to turn and still see Javi just clearing the threshold of the fortified entry, and instead are surprised that he's right on your heels. An effervescent laugh flits out of you when he loops his arm around your waist and scoops you up against him as he swings you around.

"You mischievous little scamp," he rumbles in a steely purr against your ear before kissing you in the spot of your neck just below it. "Quit teasing me when I'm trying to be on my best behavior—"

Wiggling to slink down his front, you purse your lips and huff, "So am I! But you're too easy to rile up, so I can't help it."

He grunts and puts his arm around you when you nod in the direction of walking up the current street. "Figures," is his laconic hum, smiling when the arm you've looped back around his waist gives him an irreverent squeeze.

Managing to stroll up the winding streets and continue to banter lightheartedly, you both make it to the end of the inclining route and arrive at the top of the islet that looks out at the expansive green, knoll-like grounds that make up El Castillo San Felipe del Morro.

A citadel built on the northwesternmost point of the islet of Old San Juan, it takes advantage of the promontory that overlooks the entrance to the Bay of San Juan, which accounts for its name amongst the locals: El Morro. Under the now pink and peach-tinged clouds of the sky backlit by the blazing Caribbean sunset, the entire grounds looked utterly enchanting. So much so, that Javier just gaped at it with mystified wonder while you jovially waited for him to glance at you.

Across the lush green grass meadow, people were enjoying the splendor of the majestic site. Javi marveled at the kites being flown in the sky by kids and adults alike, the congenial clusters of people lounging together for late-day picnics, and the children running down the more sloping terrain playing games on who can go down and up the quickest. Overall, it was spectacular, and the splendor of it had him starry-eyed as the breeze from the ocean billowed up to bring him back down from the clouds.

"Holy shit," he breathes out and looks at you, completely smitten as he smiles and exclaims, "You weren't kidding. This is amazing, querida."

Beaming, you take his hand and simper, "I told you! Now, let's take a break and sit so we can watch the sun set."

You both end up finding a nice spot on the soft cool grass to lounge and admire the sky, cuddled sidelong together while people-watching and enjoying the magnificent beauty of the historic site. At one point, while Javi is pointing at one of the kites and remarking about how much air the flyer got on it, you find yourself staring at his profile and getting a warm recall. His smile when he turns to you and sees your expression soften only makes your heart flutter more.

This time, you're the one who pulls him close for a tender kiss on the lips.

Javier deepens it with a slip of his tongue, and before you know it, the hand at his nape curls up into the back of his hair and guides him down with you to the grass. He balances himself by planting a hand next to your shoulder, slipping the other behind your head to wrap fingers along your nape.

For a moment, the world bleeds away, and you both get lost in the make-out session until the delighted squeal of a child rings over the breeze and reminds you of where you're at. Javi grunts at the same time as you hum reluctantly to break the kiss, and when he leans back to stare handsomely down at you, the image of him doing the same thing, but in a dream you'd had once, flares like a resplendent vision in your mind's eye.

Sitting up with a faux pout when he shifts to lounge sidelong on his elbow, you grumble, "Who's romancing who now."

He chuckles and does that silly mueca where he cocks his jaw askew before tucking his chin low so he can give you a molten stare. "I'm blaming it on the magic of the island of enchantment," is his canela-dipped purr as he affectionately nudges his shoulder into yours.

You chuckle and lean into him, eyes twinkling under the dusky light cresting into the horizon as you glance over to see that the squealing child was a little boy as his father held him out like he was flying while he ran down the meadow.

Smiling at the heartwarming sight, you turn to Javi and ask, "How's your dad?" When his brows go up in surprise, you bump your shoulder playfully into him and snicker, "What? I've been wondering if he was against you coming down here, let alone to head the DEA again under the ruse of coming to court me—"

"You have that in reverse, corazón," he counters and cocks a glib brow at you before remarking, "I told him it would be different, he believed me, and didn't try to talk me out of leaving. He gets it," he pauses to smirk as he croons, "Plus, he made me promise that when I got you back, that I'd finally bring you home to meet him."

Heart summersaulting in your chest at that, you stare meekly up at him now as you query, "He wasn't disappointed? That you were investing your time into all of this again, after everything?"

He's surprised to hear you wonder that. Sure, the first time he'd talked to his father after he'd arrived in San Juan, Chucho had pressed him on whether he was sure about his plans, but that had been before he was able to update him a few days later that you hadn't strangled him in your fury, and that you both had agreed to take things slow. Well, it was an unspoken agreement, sure, but Javi had felt confident, and his father had seemed relieved and happy to hear it.

The look in your eyes right now though tells him you want honesty, not appeasement, so Javi dotingly combs the rogue strands of hair that have escaped your clasp to frame your face, and tucks them behind your ear for you, as he answers sincerely, "To tell you the truth, when a big box with all my stuff showed up on the doorstep at the house? Pops leveled with me that it might be time for me to move on," he pauses when your expression tenses, so he quickly continues, "But I couldn't. I spent months obsessing about things – wondering if I should've done more, and I tried reaching out to everyone I could think of that would know where you were; that had a way to contact you, and always struck out. But the moment Steve showed me the org chart here? I went home and told Pops I needed to take the job; to come down here. That it would be different this time, because I had the right reasons—"

"Javi," you interrupt and shift closer so you can confide, "I waited for you. And when I couldn't live with knowing how complicit everyone was in sabotaging you – that they'd set you up to fail? It made me sick, and I quit…but I reached out to Steve, hoping he could tell me where you were. I never got ahold of him, and by then? I had no reason to stay in Colombia anymore. And, I was convinced it was over and I would never see you again, so I packed the box and mailed it to your father's address, figuring you'd turn up there eventually."

"…I'm sorry, querida," he mumbles on an exhale and diverts his gaze before admitting, "My biggest regret was being too much of a chicken-shit idiot to have reached out after I'd left. That I didn't go back sooner."

You hear the genuine upset in his muttered tone, so you sigh and caress his cheek so he'll look back up to your eyes as you huff, "So? Does Mr. Jesus F. Peña hate me for stealing his son away, or not?"

Snorting at you, he follows up with his own question of, "How did you know that, and the address to the house? I never told you—"

"I may have peeked into a shoebox I'd accidentally knocked off the top shelf of your closet, and seen the envelope to a letter from him to you," is your impish drawl as you smile at him giving you an impressed look.

The dim twilight has advanced enough now over the expansive grounds that you both decide to start making your way back down to the cobblestone streets. Luckily for Javi, you could tell he was a bit peckish, so you'd suggested stopping for tapas and drinks at Barrachina. Walking down the hilly calles to the restaurant and bar was even more pleasant, thanks to the cool breeze languidly billowing about now that the twilight gave in to night, as well as the antique lamppost-lit plazas and parques you both strolled by while you'd point to landmarks or museums you promised to bring him back to next time you both were in the old city.

He's in such a great mood that he even lets you cajole him into getting a piña colada instead of his go-to whiskey neat, all because you raved about how good it was and how the location touted themselves as being the original creators of the world-renowned tropical drink. Even when he got a brain freeze, he still couldn't stop smirking while you gushed about all the places you still wanted to take him to.

By the time he's escorting you back out to the cobblestone avenue and down a promenade that will lead you back to the parking garage, you're feeling content. You rest your head on his arm while your hands are looped around his elbow, effectively tucking you close to him as you lope by the shops you'd passed when you'd first arrived, while you continue to banter.

"—I swear, my father understands and is supportive. I'll even call him so you can talk to him yourself, if you don't believe me," Javier is remarking while traversing through the evening foot traffic to the corner, voice a gravelly murmur in your ear, making a tingle of arousal flutter in your belly, as you both cross the street to enter the garage kiosk to settle up.

"I believe you, chulito," you chuckle and take his hand once he's paid and the ticket is validated.

"Should I be nervous about how your father will feel about us?" he inquires in a musing drawl, and cocks a concerned brow down at you when you scoff.

"That's a whole other story for another day, babe," you obfuscate smoothly as you bossily clasp his hand in both of yours, giving his palm a squeeze while walking towards the entry of the stairwell up to the parking levels.

"Does he even know about us…?" he can't help fish.

Humming, you concede, "He does. And he knows you're here," before pausing to sigh as you glance up at him and add, "But really, everyone knows about us."

You go on to briefly tell him the encounter with your father, and Javier internally steels himself to the eventual sizing up he'll have to be subjected to by the imposing and intimidating-sounding man. "—He knows a lot of people in business and government, and is known by reputation across all the spheres of influence that matter down here, and is esteemed by most. So, it's par for the course that he's wise to us and able to keep tabs, I guess."

Sounds like I got my work cut out for me, Javi thinks to himself as you continue to stride together down the main aisle towards where the car is parked.

After you get in, Javi turns to you before putting the key in the ignition in order to have the quiet of the interior so he can ask, "Can I take you out to dinner?"

Giggling, you whisper in a silly tone, "Javi, we just had dinner—"

"Yeah, but I mean a real dinner. Somewhere on the beach, with maybe some dancing?" he unabashedly proposes, and the smoldering look in his dark brewed eyes makes a shiver skitter down between your legs. "Doesn't have to be fancy. Just somewhere nice and casual you vouch for."

"I'd like that," you chime before serenely smiling, then caveating, "Friday would be the best, since traffic will be pandemonium the next couple of days due to the tournament's final games. And the vaguadas are coming in over the weekend, so all the beach chinchorros will be closed because of the weather, most likely."

"Alright, it's a date," Javier croons before leaning over to kiss you on the lips, pride expanding his chest when you return it with a few flirty pecks and a playful giggle. "You pick the chinchorro, since I have no clue."

"I know where to go, and it's fairly nearby, plays music, and is right on the beach," you chime silkily as he starts the car, and end up smiling sweetly when he makes a silly sound and nods sagely at you.

A little while later, and he's pulling up to the front of your condo building, parking at the curb a few feet from the sidewalk gate entry.

"I had a great time," you tell him, expression gentle as he turns to look at you puckishly. Making an amused sound, you pester, "Well? Did you? I know it was practically a hike, most of the time—"

"It wasn't. We're definitely making a day of going back, soon," he confidently declares before leaning close and asking, "Can I walk you up?"

You hesitate, seeming unsure if you should say yes, and Javi reads the cause for concern from the tense press of your lips, so he quickly assures, "Just want to escort you up. I promise—"

"Yes, sorry, I'm just," you pause before scoffing at yourself, then clarifying, "I'd like that."

Relieved, Javier gets out and comes around to your side of the car to take your hand as you shimmy out of the passenger seat. He's nothing but a gentleman after you key in the security code for the gate and lead him through the lush courtyard.

He catalogues how nice the surroundings are and notes the number of units as you lead him through the front lobby to the elevators.

"You got a security guard posted here?" he asks when you walk by the desk and enter the elevator once the doors have slid open.

"No, just a day and night attendant. The night guy's shift doesn't start for another 10 minutes, though," you explain as you press the button for your floor. "How do you like living in a house versus an apartment?"

"It's different, but nice. The neighborhood is quiet, Steve and Connie live not even a block over, so it kind of feels like old times. Just a lot more tranquil. Although, I do miss the amenities from my place back in Bogotá," he tells you as he leans back against the elevator wall, arm looping around you when you hum and sidle up next to him. "The provisioner and in-building dry cleaner was just too good. Now I gotta get my own groceries and trek my suits across town—"

"Awww, pobrecito," you deridingly coo as the elevator arrives on your floor and the doors slide open. Coquettishly taking his hand, you tow him along to exit onto the loggia-styled walkway towards your side of the hall. "Well, I love my apartment—"

Tugging you playfully back to cuddle against his side as you both stroll towards your door, Javi drawls, "I like how secure it is. No pendejo can just waltz up to your door and invite himself in."

You laugh wholeheartedly, and he feels soothed to hear your melodious giggle before it melts into that discordant little sigh he loves.

Once you're at the door, you key in and hesitate before turning to him and looking at him tentatively.

"I-Thanks for taking me out, and letting me drag you around," you murmur, snickering when he smirks and exhales amusedly out his nose before leaning his hand into the doorframe as you add, "I'll call you Friday to confirm?"

Nodding, Javier's gaze softens into that soulful stare that makes heat tingle up in you. "Looking forward to it," he rumbles before leaning in to kiss you chastely on the lips. He then curls his finger under your chin to affectionately raise your countenance up so he can husk debonairly, "Buenas noches, querida."

You have to suppress the urge to just grab him by his collar and drag him into your apartment so you can have your way with him like you long to, and instead smile dreamily as he turns to lope back down to the elevator.

"I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave, papisongo."

Javi pauses and turns, and his expression is priceless as you grin at him from the door.

"I cannot believe you said that," he incredulously chuckles, and his smile is beaming as it unearths his boyish dimple. "And you give me grief about my lines?" is his faux-huffy counter as he puts his hand on his hip and squints comically at you when you give him a flirty wink.

"Yeah well, it needed to be said! Now, good night, stud," you goofily exclaim, then purr the latter farewell, blowing him a silly kiss before going into your apartment.

Smitten, Javi chuckles to himself and resumes his exit, already pining to see you again.

Even when the rest of his week is filled with the stress and toil of running things while still learning the lay of the land, Javier is able to keep his spirits up. His team of agents are savvy and self-aware, personable and scrappy, so he doesn't feel the same kind of anxiety he did when he'd first arrived to oversee the investigation of the Cali cartel. However, there wasn't a fount of leads or knowledge about the criminal organization like there'd been for either of the Colombian cartels, so hearsay and conjecture were what fed the operations and surveillance assessments.

Still, with Steve finding leads that linked back to certain players in the underworld on the island, he was able to go into meeting after meeting with his suspicions about the syndicates that made up the Puerto Rican Mafia only becoming more credible.

During his morning briefing, he heard the first bit of intel that made his instincts perk up, and ordered Segarra to work with the legal team to request financial statements, pull permits, and search for contracts that had overlapping LLC or holding company titles.

His ASAC was eager to please after being dressed down overtly enough for the entire department to know and gossip about it, so while Javier was brushing up on studying the municipal maps and the topographic charts for the mainland, the man had surprised him by coming into his office with the first of the documents.

"—Check it out, boss. I got the expert on forensic accounting to dig into things, and there are definitely repeating LLC's doing business between here and the other islands. See here? There's a business license in St. Thomas that matches one here," Segarra is detailing as Javier flips through the files and skims everything. "I have a buddy that works at Banco Popular, and I have him looking for accounts that may have wired funds back and forth—"

"Make sure you have legal in the loop of that. I don't want to end up having solid intel inadmissible in court because you cut corners," is his commanding drawl, eyeing the man sharply before glancing back down at some particular public record disclosures. He doesn't see the narrowed glare his dismissive air inspires from his subordinate, but he can sense his resentments percolating, so he deadpans, "This is all promising, though. Do we know who the LLC holders are?"

"N-Not yet, sir. But I have a few resources digging through the paperwork, looking for any filings that list the company holders," Segarra tells him, adding purposely, "And I definitely went through the proper channels with the bank audit, but it never hurts to have a friend run point."

Javier glances aloofly up at him as he tersely orders, "Let me know once you have the information."

"Yes, sir," the man curtly replies before heading out of his office.

Resuming his scan of the documents, Javi wonders about the LLC, and decides to put out some feelers for intel stateside, so he makes a call to Spencer. The man gives him some excellent contacts to reach out to for a deeper accounting of the information, before taking his usual opportunity to wax regretful that he couldn't convince him to take on Mexico.

"—It's looking like a crapshoot anyway down there. So, at the very least, you have a lot more enchanting surroundings, and company – or so I hear."

Miffed by the comment, Javier had curtly found a way to end the call, only to end up stewing. After all, he really was getting used to everyone knowing about him and you. It still raised his hackles to hear anyone reference you so glibly, let alone with a knowing undertone that spoke of amused recrimination.

Even when Steve would razz him like he had that morning during their morning jog – quipping, "Wonder how long it'll be before you both play hooky and run off to get married" – a feeling of protectiveness would twinge in his gut, and he'd have to remind himself that there was no threat. No looming fallout or harassment coming your way because of him.

Not anymore, anyway…

His stewing couldn't last for long, though. Not with more intel coming in from the port survey he'd requested. The logs and manifests took up so much of his time, that he didn't realize how late in the day it'd gotten until his cell phone started ringing, and he retrieved it while sparing a glance at his watch. "Peña."

"Hey. Wanted to see if we were still on for tonight?" your silky voice snaps him to attention to realize it was already past 5pm and he still needed to head home to change. He muffles a swear as he rushes from his desk chair to collect his blazer in order to head out, and you interpret it as reluctance to answer, so you end up asking tentatively, "Is it not a good time—?"

"No, no, sorry. I just lost track of time," Javier counters as he tosses all the documents back into their folders before setting the pile aside as he insists, "I'm running late, but I'll pick you up—"

"Oh, well if you want, just meet me there. The later it gets, the harder it'll be to get a table, so I'll take a cab there and wait," you cut in with the suggestion, and Javi frowns as he exits his office and rushes through the mostly quiet department. "I know traffic will be tough, so no rush—"

Glowering as he stalks out to the elevator and presses the button, Javi forlornly mutters, "I'm sorry, querida. I'll be there as soon as I can."

You giggle at his huffy tone, and mollify, "Don't worry about it, boss man. I'll just pass the time wondering what outfit you're gonna show up in that'll make me wanna tease you some more."

Feeling a tremor of desire pulse through him, Javi smirks as he takes the elevator down to the lobby. "Such a damn coqueta," he rumbles, and you hum innocently over the line before telling him the address and the best route to take. "—Alright, I'll see you soon."

"Drive safe. Bye."

He hustles out of the building and finds Kike sitting in the parked SUV while listening to reggaetón, caught up in the beat and not noticing him until he's at the passenger's side door, knocking on the window. The rookie jumps before lowering the radio and unlocking the doors.

"You working late on a Friday, sir!" Kike remarks jovially before turning the car on while Javi hops in and puts his seatbelt on.

"Yeah, lost track of time. Sorry for keeping you," he mutters as Kike drives them down to the security gate, then heads down the avenue en route to his house.

"No problem!" Kike assures as he drives, fingers tapping along to the beat of the song still playing low on the radio. The man had learned that Javier is more taciturn at the end of the day, so he makes a conscientious effort not to engage in idle chatter now, figuring he wants to decompress from his day.

"…How would you dress to go to a chinchorro on a Friday night?"

Kike's wide expressive eyes flash over at him in surprise, and Javi instantly regrets asking, feeling like a damn tourist, but luckily for him, the younger officer is more than happy to impart his wisdom as sociable local, and by the time Javi is dropped off at his place, he's confident and ready to impress you.

While he hurries to get ready, you're just getting in the cab that'll chauffeur you to the open-air restaurant and hangout on the beach. Excitement buzzes through you as you drive, but your mind preoccupies your thoughts with the news you'd gotten during your doctor's appointment. It'd been a good news-bad news kind of discussion with your primary care physician, whom was in consultation with your OBGYN, and you felt ambivalent as you rehashed it all, fixating on what was still unknown.

The results of your bloodwork were good. Blood pressure and cholesterol were normal, and your hormonal levels weren't irregular. You'd even surpassed your goal weight and gotten the encouragement to relax on your dieting. However, you'd been off of birth control for weeks, and while your headaches and fatigue had gone away, you'd not had a menstrual cycle. Noting that on your chart after conducting a physical, the doctor had administered a rapid pregnancy test as was standard in order to rule it out. It'd been negative, so the bad news was that you could be suffering from amenorrhea. And unfortunately, only more checkups in the coming months would rule it out as a diagnosis. But if there were several menstrual cycles missed? The chances that the amenorrhea was a permanent issue, and that it could be caused by a disease or chronic condition increased in probability. More testing would need to happen, and could lead to a diagnosis you'd been worrying about for a while now.

Infertility.

It was overwhelming to think about it, and even though the doctor had insisted it was still too early to jump to that conclusion, you felt it was inevitable. That you had to start building up your defenses to it being a reality.

As you exit the cab now and pay the driver, you feel an ache in your chest that you can't quite place while you smoothen out the skirt of your sleeveless abstract print jade-and-terracotta slip dress. Adjusting your beaded pouch purse to be crossbody before you straighten the ankle strap to your flat leather strappy sandal, you try to chalk it up to fretting over nothing. But by the time you walk in and get seated at a table on the outside deck overlooking the sandy beach and rocky shore beyond, the ache becomes a pang of worry.

What if Javi wants to settle down, and start a family?

The thought preoccupies you for a while, making you reticent as you sit alone and stare faraway at the horizon line. Your fingers absently toy with your hair after the breeze tousles it, and before you know it, you've worried your bottom lip dry from fixating on the what ifs and worst-case scenarios. Annoyed, you shake yourself free of the anxious thoughts and retrieve your satiny lipstick from your purse to reapply it to your lips and force yourself to stay grounded in the now.

The restaurant is full, but not crowded, with most lingering at the bar and dancing to the cheerful salsa music playing. The sunset gleams across the waters at the shore, and you get lost in the splendor of it while you sway along to the romantic oldie. So much so, that you don't sense someone approaching your direction until they're right next to you.

Javier was besotted the moment he laid eyes on you when he came in through the restaurant and spotted you out on the wood deck, by the veranda. The sunset was melting into the horizon, and the glow of the dusky hues illuminated you beautifully, managing to both cast you in soft relief and make your features striking as you turned your expression towards him and blinked in surprise.

"Christ, you look stunning," Javi rumbles as he stares at you, not sure what to do first: kiss you, pull you up into his arms, or just pick you up and take you somewhere secluded along the fronds that lushly skirt the beach beyond so he can properly fawn over you.

You're smiling as you turn in your chair and get an appreciative gander at his toffee-colored chino pants, warm cream short-sleeved button down, and dark-leathered beefroll penny loafers with a matching brown belt. He looks freshly showered and shaved, hair curling along his forehead and down his nape, eyes flaring the richest tone of brown thanks to the dying sunlight catching in his irises.

Unable to help yourself, you get up and encircle his waist brazenly before purring, "You've had this outfit waiting in the wings for this long, and you dare strut in here como modelo when I'm trying so hard to behave?!"

He snorts wryly at you before cupping the hinge of your jaw and leaning down for a kiss, brushing his lips chastely over yours before tracing his thumb along your cheek. "Hmph, all credit goes to the rookie that drives me for telling me what to wear out for a nice dinner on the beach here," is Javi's honeyed quip, smirking when you hum a charmed sound and affectionately swipe the pad of your thumb over his lips in order to remove the lipstick print you left on the pillowy morsels while he smiles and murmurs around it, "Hope you haven't been waiting long—"

"No, not long at all. It was nice to just sit and stare off for a bit," you sigh as he pushes in your chair for you once you've sat back down. "How've you been?"

Javi sits across from you and admires the way the breeze flutters your lovely hair about. "Busy, but ok. Been having a hard time deciphering the way things are done down here. This case is an odd one," he answers and immediately shakes his head at himself before muttering, "Sorry, I won't bore you—"

You snicker and reach for his hand after he's idly rested it on the table. "You're not. Things are different here when it comes to the way everything operates," you remark, not wanting to reference the topic overtly, for fear people might hear and become nosy. "How's Steve doing? Bet it's been tough for him too."

Nodding, Javi grouses, "Yeah, plus he travels out to the Virgin Islands every so often, but it's been good having the hillbilly around to bounce ideas off of again."

Chuckling with irreverent glee, you squeeze his hand and hiss, "Que malo eres, always deriding that whiteboy."

He laughs and takes your hand in his, features warm with affection as he asks, "And how was your day?"

Part of you wilts, but you catch yourself before it reaches your face, as you decide to answer coolly, "It was ok. Had to do some unpleasant boss stuff."

You end up telling him about having to let a few people go, and purposely decide not to tell him about the doctor appointments or the health concerns you've been worrying about. It feels too unstable and precarious to voice it to anyone, let alone to him. Not with how fledgling everything still felt, especially when your insecurity was burrowing deep into the part of you that didn't want to acknowledge the possibilities of a loss that could erode things between you and Javi. That could dictate plans yet to be considered.

Keeping it to yourself feels like the only option right now.

"—So yeah. Getting rid of the acomodados is never a popular thing," you're summing up now that a waitress finally makes her way to your table. Once she's taken your drink and food orders, you glance back at the dance floor when more upbeat salsa music starts playing and couples eagerly cut a rug.

Javi follows your gaze and smirks before suggesting, "Wanna dance?"

"I'd love to," is your sincere murmur as you stare alluringly at him with a soft smile on your plush lips.

Dancing with Javi floods you with memories and yearning, and from the way he holds you close after he spins and dips you, it's obvious he's feeling the same. Especially when the slow-tempo song comes on and he nuzzles your temple when you loop your arms around him. You brush your nose against his collar while you both sway to the ballad, letting his rugged scent curl warmth through you like your favorite spiced rum does when it hits your bloodstream.

The way you sigh and lull your head onto his shoulder allows him to get lost in the moment with you. To breathe in the perfume of your skin and the soft scent of your hair while the crowd around you both melts away. It feels like no time has passed, and all the time has rushed by him all at once while the gravitation between you both remained constant. That the love remained everlasting, waiting for you two to find your way back to each other. It makes something effervescent crest up in his chest, and all he wants to do is cherish you forever. To tell you what he's been resisting blurting out every time it burns behind his sternum, for fear of making your walls go back up in defensive self-preservation.

He could feel the doubtfulness and hesitance bubble up in you still at times. It made you meek, even rueful, whenever you seemed close to forgetting everything from before – to falling back into amorous serenity with him again. Javi understood why, but was longing to get you to a place where you felt safe enough to trust him completely again.

Still, he feels branded from the inside out with the need to profess exactly how he feels, and just as he musters the bravery to say it, he sees the waitress arrive at your table with your orders, so he kisses your temple and escorts you off of the dance floor, back to the veranda.

Dinner is wonderful, filled with silly banter and congenial catching up, especially on Javier's side. He acquiesced to your playful curiosity about what he'd been up to before coming down to Puerto Rico, so he tells you about how he'd been living back in Laredo, how it was being home for so long after being gone for so long, and he happily told you the good, the bad, and the exasperating tidbits as the ambiance of the establishment gets more animated with more patrons arriving, dancing, and waiting at the counter to put in standing food orders.

You love hearing about his friends – especially the anecdote he shares now about his neighbors, Luis and Eddie Zapata, who helped him and his father chase a few horses that got loose from the paddock and ran amuck one afternoon – and how he'd been able to decompress after everything that had happened with the Cali investigation.

Dreamily, you start to wonder out loud, "Don't you miss it?" When his eyes crinkle with confusion, you elaborate, "I mean, it sounds so nice. Completely the opposite of all the tumultuousness – just a safer, comfortable life. No stressing or despairing over meaningless things; getting to be around friends and family, keeping active on the ranch, but still getting to help your old department there without the commitment of needing to run yourself into the ground—"

"Celina."

Your eyes focus again and you blink bemusedly at him, having gotten lost in pensive thought as you painted the picture of a life better lived for him, one away from the life he'd left behind with you.

Bashfully, you look away and dismiss, "Sorry, I'm just rambling…"

He frowns as you retreat back into yourself, feigning a calm semblance as you finish your drink.

It pains him, but he realizes that professing his love right now would likely make you emotionally withdraw, so he decides to change the subject in order to coax you back from the reserved place you've slipped into.

"Murphy suggested we double date on Valentine's Day," he's remarking as he busily collects your disposable plates and cups in order to clear the small table and make it obvious to the waitress that she can bring the bill.

Amiably snickering, you lilt, "Oh? And you agreed to that?"

"I mean, I wouldn't say that," Javi dryly chuckles, smirking when you raise your brows amusedly. "I figured it'd be tough to get a table anywhere that day as just a couple—"

"Oh, it would, but there are a few places we could definitely get a table, as long as I have my friend call to make the reservation for us," you confidently chime as you lean back in your chair and cross your legs relaxedly.

He hums, intrigued, and eyes you interestedly as the waitress appears with the check, and he settles up quickly by handing the money and telling her to keep the rest. Once she's cleared the table and wished you both a nice night, Javi keenly leans over the table top, and gives you a bossy look.

"Using influence to get your way?" he queries playfully, smirking when you scoff at his goading connotation.

"Hey, if you want to take me out on Valentine's, you'll have to take advantage of me having a famous friend who gets in pretty much wherever she wants, and who'll happily reserve a table for four, just for me," you tease, snickering when he gives you a wry pout. "What, you a boy scout now too?"

Javier is about to counter your quip when the music starts to play loudly to accommodate the patrons who are dancing, and drowns out the drone of the crowds loitering about or ordering boisterously at the kiosk window attached to the long counter.

Leaning over to get his attention over the hopping merengue song currently playing, you shout, "Wanna stroll along the beach?"

With a pleased nod, Javi stands and helps you out of your seat before escorting you across the deck down the steps and onto the sandy beachfront. He immediately realizes though that he won't get far with his shoes on, but then you're reaching down to tug your sandals off with carefree whimsy, so he takes his loafers off and holds both at his side, hooked at the inner heel support and takes your hand with his free one once you've adjusted to carry your sandals on your opposite side.

Javi lets you navigate the meandering stroll down to the shore while you explain, "So this isn't really a beach for swimming, but right around the bend is a really great view of Isla Verde and El Condado."

As you both walk barefoot over the damp sand, Javi admires the beauty of the now twilight glowing over the ocean water, mindful to watch his step as you tug him along to follow around the rocky or jagged edge of an outcropping that obscures the path just on the other side of it.

"You come here a lot?" he asks when you squeeze his hand and lead him around the shore towards a cluster of fronds that rustle from the cool breeze.

"Yeah, since I was a kid. A lot of the businesses around here weren't here back then, just the main kiosko, but this hidden path was one I'd sneak off to when my parents weren't looking," you tell him as you lead him along the shady thatch created by the palm trees and fronds, smiling just as you guide him to the opposite side and reveal the amazing view.

In early twilight, the coastline across the bay looks like a glimmering strip, and the beaches were empty save for the crashes of the waves and the distant cawing of birds settling in for the nocturnal hours. He's awed by how enchanting it is, and lets his gaze sweep over the lovely view before he looks over at you now.

You'd been watching him, smitten with how his dark eyes widened and his expression softened. The distant echo of the music from the different businesses was little more than a hum over the gusting breeze and the lulling tide before you and beyond.

Your heart is beating fast for some reason, and Javier's soulful gaze staring unguardedly at you now has something tender worming free from the deepest, most insecure part of you.

"Javi…did you mean it? When you said you came here for me?" you're suddenly asking, expression etching with worry when he stares at you with incomprehension creasing his eyes and parting his lips. "I-I don't want you to give up anything that matters to you—to quit your job or throw away opportunities—"

Dropping his shoes to the sand, he faces you head on and cups his hands over your shoulders before caressing them down your arms. "I'm not. I did come here to be with you, querida, but I'm not missing out on anything else. I never stopped wanting the life we'd planned together. Yeah, it's a little different now, but all that matters to me is making it with you," Javi purposely vows, hands caressing you soothingly as you exhale and stare with open emotion into his pleading gaze. "I swear, I meant it. If you decided you couldn't commit to making things work because I was in the DEA—"

"No, Javi, I-I don't want you to give up your career—" you begin to fret, but Javi shakes his head at you, frustrated that you don't understand his meaning. "I just don't want to be the reason you end up regretting things—"

Imploringly, Javi cups your cheek and cuts in, "That's not going to happen. I'm not saying I'm giving anything up. I just meant that I can do whatever – that I'm not letting anything else dictate what happens to us, or affect our lives, however we want to go about being together—"

Overwhelmed, you pull away and drop your sandals to the sand so you can wrap your arms around yourself as you try to collect your emotional bearings. You're shivering, and it's not just because the blustery wind is becoming chilly as twilight becomes a starry night.

You sense Javi draw closer, and are about to turn and apologize when you feel warm, soft cotton drape over your shoulders. His scent envelops you, and you turn when you realize he'd taken off his shirt and wrapped it around you. Now in only his chino pants and the white undershirt, Javi chivalrously loops your waist with his arms and holds you to him in order to ward off the chill coming from the impending tropical winter deluges forecasted.

Pressing your nose to nuzzle into his chest after you tuck yourself against him, you murmur, "Since when did you start wearing these?"

He chuckles musingly, "Since I got down here and was sweating through my shirts like a pig."

You let out a simpering laugh and hug him.

An easy silence passes between you for a beat, and you get lost in the heat of his skin, the thrum of his heart against your ear, and the sounds of the breezy shore several yards away.

"I've been so scared of letting myself feel the way I did again," you suddenly susurrate, tone a tremulous whisper. So much so that at first, Javier wasn't sure he'd even heard you right. But then you look up at him and mumble, "I'm just so scared—"

He feels his heart wrench in his chest at your words and the woeful look in your eyes. "Please, mi amor. You don't have to be. I swear it'll all be different—"

You pull away then and try to rein in your emotion, to wrestle it back into the cage it's escaped before you become consumed by it. But then something searing flashes up through you when you think about how pushing him away now will devastate you, and before you can contend with either swaying you away further, you turn to Javi and just blurt it out.

"I love you," you profess before exhaling a shaky breath, and forging on, "I've never stopped loving you, and it terrifies me that I could go on the rest of my life loving you—only loving you, even if everything falls apart again. I'm so fucking scared; d-don't want to end up being something you regret, that I can't give you the life you want. That makes you leave again for good because I can't make you happy and I can't be enough for you—"

Javier is swooping over to consolingly ground you in his arms before he rushes out passionately, "You are enough. I've never left because of you, Celina. I was never happier than when we were together; never more hopeful than when I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."

He cups your face then and holds your watery gaze as he finally says what's been blazing in his chest for so long.

"I love you, Celina. I will never stop loving you. All I want, is to love you forever," Javier declares with a hoarse, suppliant baritone that rakes free the fire of his emotions as he husks, "Please, let me love you, mi vida."

Tears escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks before you catch your breath enough to whisper, "I want to. I just want to be with you, Javi," pausing to slip your arms around his shoulders and bury your flustered features against him before stammering, "I love you so much. J-Just want to be safe with you."

Both relieved and overcome, Javi holds you tight before nuzzling you lovingly and kissing you amorously when you turn to capture his lips imploring need.

You melt against him when he deepens the kiss, heart soaring as you thread your fingers into the back of his hair, swooning when his ardent embrace presses you against him protectively.

A loud car backfires in the distance, back in the direction of the beach-facing establishments, and you jump, breaking the kiss and causing Javi to squeeze you affectionately before you laugh at yourself.

"Sorry—"

"No, it's alright—"

You exhale a frazzled sound before staring at him through your lashes.

He senses you getting pensive again, so he decides to reassure you as earnestly as possible, by pressing, "I'm willing to do anything you need, whatever I can, to make you feel safe. Anything—"

"I know, Javi. I believe you," you exhale and caress your hands up his chest before murmuring over the wind, "I'm sorry for making you feel like that—"

"Don't be," he sincerely stresses before his features soften as he asks, "Can we…will you let me earn your trust back? I know you can't just forget what happened, but we can take things slow—no rushing into anything," he pauses, dark brewed eyes earnest as he emphasizes hopefully, "We can try again—just be together, and see where things go."

Feeling your heart race, you find yourself relinquishing control to it as you eagerly pipe, "Yes, I want to—I feel the same way."

The way his low-lit features perk up at your answer is enough to make you feel like this is right. Like just the promise of letting your feelings for each other thrive is enough to see you through to the next unknown milestone between you both. So, you lean up on your tippy toes and kiss him before slinging your arms around his neck.

Sublime calm settles over him, and he hugs you possessively before nuzzling you as he lets out a relieved sigh.

Snapping yourself back from the infatuated daze of being with him like this, you clear your throat and bossily nudge your temple into his cheek with a grunt.

"We should probably get out of here before a patrol rolls by and yells at us for being on the beach after dark," is your silly huff as you encircle his waist and meekly smile when he holds you in place so he can give you a moustache-tickly smooch on the cheek while the wind starts whipping across the nocturnal beach with a howl.

"It feels like it's going to start raining any minute, anyway," Javi grouses as he leads you over to retrieve both your shoes.

"Yeah, you can smell it in the air," you remark as you dust the soles of your feet before slipping your sandals back on. At Javi doing the same, you shrug his shirt off and hand it back to him as you chuckle, "Don't worry. We'll go the shortcut that takes us towards the parking lot."

Humming, he accepts his shirt before asking, "You sure? I don't mind if you wear it to the car—"

"Well, walking back to the kiosko with your shirt on is definitely going to look like we had sex on the beach," you joke, snickering when he scoffs derisively and quickly slips his shirt on before fastening it shut.

"And that would be such a bad thing?" he teases as he tucks the shirt in and takes your hand so you can lead him up the secret path that loops up a sturdy slope and over a gravel footpath tucked behind some closed structures.

"Uh, yeah! This beach isn't the cleanest spot to get laid on," you chortle as you squeeze his hand and look over your shoulder cheekily at him while you drawl, "And sex on the beach is not as sexy as it sounds."

"Oh, is that a fact?" he croons, sidling up to you now once the nearby lamp pole flickers on and provides enough illumination for you both to trek towards the bustling beachy hangouts.

Wrinkling your nose cutely, you tell him matter-of-factly, "Sand getting in your delicate crevices is not fun, sir."

Javier laughs that warm, full-chested guffaw you love, and you feel on cloud nine as you both stride the remaining distance to weave through the cars of the parking lot's outskirts before he cups the small of your back and leads you to his SUV.

The drive out of the hopping district with the two-lane road that intersects it is pleasant. You both listen to the salsa oldie playing on the radio in comfortable silence, until you glance out the window and notice how the dark clouds are rolling in now from the east. Just as you're going to remark, 'It's going to pour,' a muted sound of thunder grumbles in the distance.

You look over at Javier once he gets to the intersection leading out of the coastal scenic route and direct him to the correct exit that'll take him back to the highway going northwest. Traffic is thankfully not congested, and he cruises down the ramp leading into your condo's street not even ten minutes later. However, by the time he's pulling up to the building, the dark clouds had blanketed the metropolitan area and opened up, quickly going from a light drizzle to a pounding rain that obscures the windshield and has him setting the wipers on the highest setting to keep up with the pouring stream.

"Shit, I don't have an umbrella," Javi laments as he frowns out the windshield. "We'll have to make a run for it—"

"Just pull up into the driveway. I'll give you the gate code," you tell him congenially, blinking at him when he looks at you with surprise lighting up his eyes. "What? It's better than getting soaked. My visitor's spot is under the garage's awning. We'll be able to walk up to the lobby without getting wet."

Not having any reason to object, Javi turns the wheel and navigates the car into the driveway entry up to the automatic gate, lowers his window, and punches in the security code you recite to him.

Soon, he's parked in the spot you indicated and getting out of the car to escort you chivalrously up the garage's lobby entry and over to the elevator, passing the night attendant who nods in acknowledgement before returning to his newspaper. The ride up in the elevator to your floor is filled with banter, a repartee that is teasing as he gripes about the lack of proper security protocols for your condo.

"—Didn't even ask me to sign in! What does he even do? Just sit there all night, twiddling his thumbs?" he sneers when the elevator doors slide open onto your floor. You scoff impishly at him, so he grumbles, "And what's stopping anyone from getting the gate code and coming in—"

"Oh my god, you're worse than my father!" you chastise sassily and swat him playfully on the chest when he grunts huffily at you. "This isn't the embassy or Fort Knox! Everyone who lives here? They're mostly savvy professionals who like their privacy, and the night attendant is on duty in case there is an emergency of some kind," is your judicious musing as you lean into his side when he loops his arm around you and guides you to stay closer to the interior side of the loggia so you don't get wet from the rain being whipped about by the wind.

"Yeah, well—so much for keeping the pendejos out," he dryly jokes, and you giggle, unable to not grin when he gives you his goofy pout.

"Correction: so much for keeping the guapo descarados out," you tease.

Javi snorts, expression smug as you arrive at your door.

He watches as you retrieve your keys and unlock it, and presses his hand into the doorframe, already preparing to lean in and kiss you goodnight. So, when you open the door and push it wide so you can stand in the threshold as you swing your purse off from your person, toss it onto the nearby side table, and then place your keys in the bowl, Javier doesn't immediately sense what you're doing.

At least not until you turn back to him and peer up alluringly at him with a tentative flutter of your lashes.

"Do you want to come in?"

The silky query is said with a hopeful lilt to the timbre in your voice – eyes dazzling as you stare openly at him, and Javi feels heat course up his spine before zinging down into his apex.

He answers by stepping through the threshold and closing the door behind him with a firm shove.

You unseeingly lock it before taking his hands and pulling him further into your sanctuary, excited to show him your space. But really, after giving the surroundings a practiced, scrutinizing assessment – cataloguing the floorplan and noting that to his left the hallway leads to your bedroom at the end of it and to the right, Javi's attention is intently on you while you susurrate, "Come, get comfy. I think I have whiskey in the sideboard—"

You pause in your intended waltz over to said sideboard when Javier's hand doesn't let yours go.

The sound of the rain pelting against the banister and ceramic pots of the outdoor plants on the balcony is a muted patter inside the apartment, and the gusty breeze filters through the strategically ajar crank windows in the space while your breath catches in your chest. Distant traffic from the city blocks and highway beyond is nothing but a hum over the sounds of Javi whispering in your ear while he presses you against the wall in your hallway as your pulse races and your body arches against his. Rumbling thunder buzzes through the concrete walls and the smooth, glazed floor tile while you moan his name and cling to him in your state of semi-undress midway to your bedroom.

Swept up in the whirlwind of desire, all other sounds and sensations cease to matter now that you've kicked off the last of your clothes after stripping Javi of his. No, only the gravitation that exists between you – that incandescently heightens everything as you're both giving into each other, is what matters.

The carnal ecstasy spun up while in the throes of passion, after yearning for each other for far too long, is what you're dialed into. Especially when it fuels the pleasure and need only the other can liberate and nurture.

Picking you up and climbing onto your white-and-lilac-patterned quilt-covered bed with you, Javier rakes said need to throb achingly at your center when he grazes his teeth down the tender slope of your shoulder before suckling a possessive mark that makes you whimper and arch while your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Javi—please," you beg, hands clutching at his back while he keeps rutting his pulsing cock along your soaked folds before he slips a hand between your bodies to zero in on your clit. When his touch brushes the pulsing bundle, you cry out with needy hunger and fist a hand into his hair with desperation. "Please, mi amor, n-need it—"

"I know, baby, I know. You're doing so good, taking what I give you. Just let me make you feel good," Javi coos hotly against your ear before nipping the delicate spot just under it lightly. He feels you gush a fresh, warm slick of arousal on his cock, which snatches a pleased groan from his throat before he grinds more pressure over your thrumming pleasure point, and growls, "That's it, hermosa. Get my cock nice and wet. Come for me like this, and I'll fuck this heavenly pussy all night—"

Your gasp comes out a sob as you fall apart under his ruinously perfect coaxing, overloading you with his velvety commands and unabashed promises after going so long without him making you melt down to tingling sinew.

He watches with primal pride as your features become beatific when you moan and climax, eyes fluttering shut and mouth falling open in blissful delight.

You're trembling from how scintillating your orgasm was, eyes heavy while you breathe panting intakes of air to regain your breath. As you come down from it, you dimly realize Javi is gazing at you with a molten look in his eyes while he soothingly brushes the hair clinging to your sweaty skin back from your flushed features.

"Never get enough of watching you come. Look so fucking beautiful, querida," Javi gravels in a low purr before he noses into the hair at your temple and whispers, "Eres divina. Tan pinche perfecta."

A shiver courses through you at him proclaiming, 'You're divine. So fucking perfect,' to you when you've felt anything but. Your glossy eyes focus when he leans up to gaze down at you, giving you an enamored look that has you wanting to make him feel just as glorious as he's making you feel right now.

He grunts a lustful sound when you yank him down to meet your ardent kiss, groaning when your tongue sweeps into his mouth and you passionately grope your way down his body to line him at where you need him the most before undulating your pelvis to grind his cock into your drenched heat.

While the deluge and blustery breeze claim the world outside of your bedroom windows, you and Javi revel in each other, only registering the stormy event occurring beyond the confines of your bed when the cool air seeps through the slat windows and billows past your fluttering curtains to caress your heated flesh.

Savoring the salt of your skin as he scrapes his ravenous mouth down your craned neck after a particularly pounding thrust that has you arching in rapture, Javier ends up suckling hard on your nipple and grips you at the small of your back with one hand while the other clutches the back for your thigh roughly after you rock onto his cock fiercely and moan for more.

Your fingers dig into his back when he snarls and slams into you with abandon now, moustache grazing your skin as he drags his mouth back up from your chest to possessively claim yours in a feral kiss.

He winces against your mouth when your nails pinch into his sweaty back just under his shoulder blades and you whimper a reedy, desperate noise that tells him you're about to be seared through with another orgasm thanks to his bruising thrusts angling up into that devastatingly amazing spot you can't reach inside yourself. Your knees pull up and cling for purchase as you chase your need by meeting his pounding, piston-like strokes with the drenched squelch of your silken cunt clenching around his cock every time he slams in. The rapacious way your body is reacting to him along with your shameless hunger to claim him with as much ferocity as he's claiming you has Javier quickly barreling towards the precipice of pleasure before you ruinously fling him over the edge by nipping hard on the spot just below his jawline when you climax.

"Dios mío—mmph, C-Celina!" Javi grits out before moaning your name as he comes, lost to the scalding pleasure of reaching bliss as you cry out and writhe in the throes of lascivious euphoria under him.

He collapses on top of you after he empties his climax deep into your quivering center just before his muscles turn to jelly from getting off so fiercely. Drunkenly, he nuzzles into your sweaty neck and swears hoarsely, "Fucking hell, oh fuck. Jesus Christ, baby—"

You lie under him with a dreamy-yet-spent smile on your wrecked features as you confess unseeingly to the ceiling, "That was fucking amazing, Javier."

He shudders at the praise and musters the will to shift enough onto his forearms so he's not pressing his full weight onto you before he pivots to pull his cock out of your tender pussy to watch his cum drip greedily in his wake. He groans in savage accomplishment at seeing the pearly mess gleam in the lowlight as it pools on the quilt.

At your fawning exhale, Javi looks from the glorious sight up to your lovely, albeit ravished smile and gets punch-drunk by the amorous glow in your eyes as you reach for him.

He easily curls over you to be within the reach of your doting, reverent kisses, content to just hold you like this against him while your soft plush lips press into his overheated cheeks and jaw.

But then he catches your stare and gets pinned in place by it, because you're looking at him as if he'd hung the moon in the sky for you.

"I missed being yours. Missed you so much, Javier," you susurrate in a smoky timbre, dark lashes looking dewy in the dimness of the space as you flutter them clear of any tears before professing, "I just want to be with you, forever," then brush your lips worshipfully against his before whispering, "I love you with all my heart."

The feeling your words stokes in him burns like camphor in his chest, simultaneously making him feel deserving and profoundly at peace. It fills him up with an immense urge to shower you with devotion – to keep proving how worthy he is of you by worshiping you with the passion burning in his veins and rooting itself deep into his marrow.

Javier wants to make a vow to you for life, but is so overcome with the enthralling love he feels for you right now that he can only focus on proclaiming his adoration to you the best way he knows how – that is hardcoded within him.

He makes love to you throughout the night, and you both eventually succumb to the utter exhaustion of being fulfilled and at peace in each other's embraces while the vaguada settles over the atmosphere outside, keeping the air fresh and tranquil in your bedroom, preserving the moment and prolonging the blissful serenity between you.

A serenity comprised of all the matters to you both:

Your love.

________________

Read Chapter 42: Reflection

Spanish-English Glossary:

La Isla del Encanto = The Island of Enchantment

Buen día = Good day/Good morning

Vaguadas = Monsoon-style bad weather; heavy rainstorms

Día de Amor y Amistad = Day of Love and Friendship

Buen amigo = Good friend

Miembro del senado = Member of the Senate

Caserío = Public housing; housing project

Terraza = Terrace; usually a tiled patio in a backyard

Buenas tardes, directora = Good afternoon, director

Chavón = A man that's pestering you

Tan mala = So bad; So mean

Doña = Lady; Missus

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Mi patrona = My master/boss (female)

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Guapita = Sassy/foxy/daring/testy lady

Bebito = Little baby (male)

Gruñón = Grumpy man

Querida = Affectionate term for a female, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Me lleva la chingada = Akin to "God dammit" or "Fuck me"

Jodón = Pain in the ass (male)

Refunfuñón = Grumbler

Friolenta = Sensitive to cold (female)

Criticona = Critical woman; hypercritical; nit-picker

Bravita= Tough girl; feisty girl

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Wow, que mami más dura = Wow, what a fine looking woman

¡Chacho, claro que no! = Jeez, of course not!

Jefa = Boss lady

Hermosa = Beautiful (woman)

Murallas = Fortified stone walls

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Acomodado = Accommodated person; term referring to a person with business or political connections that gets placed in a role or job

Tan exijona = So demanding

Galán = Handsome gent

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Suavón = Smooth talker; Smooth guy

Vente, señorito = Come, little sir

Mueca = Making a face; grimace

Canela = Cinnamon

Corazón = Heart; pet name to signify how deeply you love someone

Calles = Streets

Pobrecito = Poor baby; poor baby boy

Coqueta = Tease (female)

Chinchorro = A kiosk or dive bar you go to have a few drinks before moving on to the next establishment

Como modelo = Like a (male) model

Que malo eres = You're so bad

Mi amor = My love

Mi vida = My life; signifies how deeply you love someone and consider them to be your whole world

Guapo descarados = Handsome cads

Eres divina. Tan pinche perfecta = You're divine. So fucking perfect

Dios mío = My god

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#Heat - Narcos fanfic #Javi x Querida #Javi Peña x Latina OFC #Latina OFC #Javier Peña #Javi Peña #Narcos #Narcos fan fiction #Javi Peña fan fiction #Javi Peña fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters

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