#go on and go busters shaking hands over here

[shencomix]

Recently I decided to go to my local fighting game tournament.

Here's how it went.

I had been getting pretty good at Guilty Gear over the past few weeks, to the point where I was getting the input correctly for the Potemkin Buster 1 out of every 4 or 5 times I tried it. So I thought "I might not be the best yet, but, surely good enough for my local" -- and I decided to go.

It took place at a the comic & games store in the town center. The venue was full of people 10-15 years younger than me and even more drastically cooler. They all turned to glare at me as I walked through the door, but as I stood completely motionless like a gazelle hoping to blend into the grassland, their gazes slowly returned to each other and they continued to banter friendlily.

I sat down next to me first opponent, and reached out to shake their hand. They looked down at my hand, and then up at my eyes slowly.

"You're supposed to do that at the end of the match."

"Oh, s-sorry"

I got perfected twice and lost the match. At the end, I reached out again to shake their hand, but they just stood up and walked away.

Because I lost, I got moved down to the loser's bracket, which was literally below the main tournament because it took place in the basement of the comic shop. I could hear footsteps, cheering, and happy conversation in the floor above. Here in the loser's bracket though, the mood was a lot more somber.

My next opponent reminded me a little bit of me. They were equally nervous and disheveled looking. They said "Um, h-hello" and reached out their hand for a handshake as they saw me approaching. I said "you're s-supposed to do that at the end of the match." But as a look of deep sadness came over their face and they slowly put down their hand, I pulled them in for a hug.

I'm not sure why I did that.

I think that some part of me knew that, in this dark, dank, alien place, illuminated only by a single failing ceiling light and the neon glow of a few arcade machines, I had at last found a friend -- someone I understood, and who might understand me too.

They hugged back.

I lost that match by a very narrow margin, and as they jumped up and began dancing around and cheering ecstatically, I began to hate them. This was no friend of mine. A friend would not do this to me. After they were done dancing, they reached out to shake my hand. After a few seconds of pause, I stuck out my hand too, but didn't look at them and refused to close it around theirs as they grasped it. They shook my karate chop.

I thought that at that point, since I had lost and then lost in loser's bracket, I was free to go home. But one of the tournament organizers approached me and informed me that I was going down to sub-loser's bracket in the sub-basement of the store, and pointed me towards a descending staircase.

The people there were fewer, and it was darker. I could faintly hear sobbing in one of the corners, but as I went to investigate, another participant put his hand on my shoulder. He furrowed his brow in a look of pain and shook his head slowly.

"You can't do anything for them."

In sub-loser's bracket I went up against a man in a suit whose face was cloaked in shadow. He spammed May's dolphin move. I lost.

As I went to go back upstairs, one of the tournament organizers held out her palm to stop me, and pointed towards a staircase leading further down instead.

Going down through the levels, I lost to many interesting participants. One player played exclusively by bashing the controller against his face. One player was a mushroom with a few circuit cables clipped onto it, that I later learned was able to play because its bioelectrical signals got sent to a machine that interpreted them as fighting game inputs. One player didn't touch their controller at all, but instead just told me their life story, which was so tragic that I picked up their controller and won for them.

Finally, at the very bottom floor, where construction standards were long abandoned and the stairs and walls were just messily carved out of the earth's stone, I faced my final player. It was a small bit of metal framework, with a controller nestled in it. On it was a tiny piston that just pressed the jab button exactly once every second. I lost.

I hung my head for a moment, then said "close game" and stuck my hand out for a handshake, before remembering that I had played against a metal framework cube with a piston in it and retracting my hand slowly. Then I heard a slow clapping from the darkness.

"No neutral. No footsies."

Out of the darkness slowly walked a woman about my age, clad in a decorative poofy dress that looked more expensive than my entire life savings. She smiled at me warmly, continuing to clap slowly, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"No meter management. No mixups. No spacing. No learning. No strategy…

…You're perfect."

"Wh-what?"

"You're perfect. I absolutely must have you."

"Have me for…um…for what…"

(Her eyes went wide as her smile grew more manic.)

"WHY, MY MORON FAILSON HAREM OF COURSE."

"Um, I-I"

"Tell me, what do you do for a living? Let me guess, you work at a fast food restaurant? Or, retail?"

"No, I'm a--I'm a comic artist."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Oh my god, you are PERFECT. What will it take to get you."

"To-to ge--"

"You would be well taken care of, of course. 3 Michelin star dining for every meal. Only the finest, softest sweatpants and sweatshirts, pre-stained with whatever flavor of Takis your little heart desires. You would have access to the entire mansion except for the main foyer when I'm in business calls, and you could make all the comics and play all the fighting games you want."

"I'm uh--"

I knew that I had to think fast here.

"I'm already i-in a moron failson harem."

"Oh, DARN IT!! TELL ME, WHO IS IT??? WHO GOT YOU??"

"I-I think I'm not allowed to s-sa--"

She stomped her foot petulantly, her shoe clacking against the stone floor.

"WAS IT SHUXUAN?? IT'S ALWAYS SHUXUAN HOGGING ALL OF THE GOOD ONES."

"I-I'm sorry," I blurted out, shuffling along the wall to make a wide radius around her and then running up the staircase.

As I got home and began making my standard dinner of Trader Joe's microwave falafel, I thought about her offer. Maybe I should have taken her up on it after all. A 3 Michelin star meal right now wouldn't be so bad.

Then I hopped on Guilty Gear and lost 22 matches in a row.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Isn't It Fun?

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You make a new friend.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You hum as you come up the walk of your building. It isn’t in the best location. In the dark, it’s scarier as a shadow overhangs the door beneath the awning. You reach into your knapsack, hanging from one shoulder, as you eke out the tune to Easy Street offkey.  

As your keys jingle, a shape pops out of the bushes and you scream, throwing the keyring as you turn to sprint back down the pavement. You’re caught from behind as a familiar chuckle rolls up into the moonlit sky. You grunt and elbow Bucky as you realise the trick he’s pulled. 

“Ah, why would you do that?” You wriggle until he lets you go. 

You face him and try to snarl but you’re so relieved it’s just him, you can’t help but smile. 

“Just having some fun. At your expense,” he chuckles and bends to pick up the keys. “Can I give you some advice, dreamy?” He raises your keys and holds them so one points between his fingers. “Keep your keys out, hold em like this and if some creep jumps out of the bushes, stab em good.” 

“Stab-- Buck,” you shake your head. “I can’t do that.” 

“You can if it’s life or death,” he swings the keys around to hang from his thick fingers, “here.” 

“What-- what are you even doing here?” 

“Huh. You didn’t let me ask my question first,” he huffs as he stands back and waves you past. “Why didn’t you tell me you were working late?” 

“Well, firstly, you got lots going on,” you say. “And I didn’t think of it. I’m fine.” 

“Fine, I could be a real bad guy waiting for you out here in the dark,” he taunts. 

“But you’re not. So now my turn, why are you here?” 

“Well, I was wandering by on my way to see a Buster Keaton marathon and thought maybe you’d be up for it...” 

“Tonight? Right now?” 

“I see,” he grabs the door as you opens it and holds it, “you’re too busy. Or maybe you’re too good for me.” 

You enter and he follows. It’s that familiarity that you just sort of fell into with him. He’s like a wise big brother, even if he really is older than your grandpa. It’s the most unexpected bonds that are the strongest. 

“No, not at all, Mr. Hero,” you climb the stairs as he stays a step behind, his hand on the railing right by yours. 

“Ugh, why doesn’t this place have an elevator?” He whines. 

“I thought the serum would give you extra strong legs,” you toss over your shoulder. 

“Whatever.” He clucks, “so how about it? You wanna fall asleep in the theatre with me, dreamy?” 

“Dream-- why do you call me that?” You head down towards your door. 

“You got your head in the clouds. Also, when you watch movies, you get this look in your eyes, like you’re living on screen. Dreamy. See.” He explains. 

“Mm,” you grumble. 

“You don’t like it? I put up with Buckaroo.” 

“That was once and it was a slip-up,” you unlock your door. “Fine, I’ll go with you since you don’t have any other friends.” 

“I have friends.” 

“Sure you do,” you snort and turn to give him a playful wink. You put your keys and bag down on the tall table. “You and Cap, the superfriends. Heroes and buddies til the end—whoa!” 

You hit the shoe rack and stumble, landing on your ass. Bucky is quick enough to save you but he doesn’t. He watches smugly and cackles as your cheeks burn up. 

“Not funny,” you pout. 

“Oh, it is very funny,” he approaches and offers his hand. “How’s that humble pie taste?” 

“Fine. I was being a meanie. I admit it but you got my adrenaline up. I can’t help it.” 

“Ha, yeah, that was good. You shoulda seen the look on your face. And that noise you made.” He hauls you up as his vibranium thumb rubs between your knuckles. “Ayeeeee!” 

“I don’t sound like that.” 

“You do.” He grins. You scowl and he laughs again. “You know I love that face. The day you actually get mad at me, I’ll be down on my knees, dreamy.” 

“Ugh, you are such a...” you let the sentence trail off and the dimple stays in in his cheek as he crosses his arms. 

“I’m a what?” 

“Nothing.” 

“No, say it,” he goads. 

“No.” 

“Come on, I can handle it. You know, I got hit by a truck the other day, I think I can take a few words.” 

“Hit by a truck? Bucky?” You squeal. “Are you okay?” 

“Ah, look at me. I’m fine. Not a scratch. That you can see,” he shrugs. “So what am I? Tell me.” 

“No,” you turn your nose up. 

“Say it. You’ll feel better.” 

“It’s... not nice.” 

“Come on,” he unfolds his arms and flutters his fingers at you, “I am trained in torture.” 

“No,” you grab his hands, his skin rough, “no tickles.” 

“So, tell me.” 

“Not fair,” you struggle to keep his hands away from your sides. 

“Almost...” he wiggles his fingertips a half-inch from your middle. 

“Brat! You’re a brat!” You step back, out of his reach. “Okay, and if you keep being one, you can go to the movies alone.” 

He laughs and grips his hips in victory, “wow, you know, I’ve actually never got that one. Creative.” 

“Right, well, I can’t sit in the theatre in this get-up,” you look down at your frilly plaid overall dress and white blouse.  

“I didn’t get to mention that yet. It’s a choice, as the young ones say.” 

You cringe, “it’s my work uniform.” 

“Uniform?” He squints. 

“Don’t, okay? I get enough guff from the customers.” 

“Guff? Oh, that’s language I understand.” 

“Ergh,” you stomp your foot. “You are so... so... old.” 

You turn and march away. He laughs and you turn into your bedroom. He just loves to tease you and despite your efforts, he always gets to you. At least he’ll have to be quiet during the movie. 

[oneforthemunny]

blurb game yay!!! shooting my shot here too: boxer!eddie (I MISS HIM AHHH), fluff, playful fighting 🥹🥹🥹

no bc i love him sm!!! this is so adorable ahh!!! this was actually so much fun, i love them being silly- sue me. i'll give a warning that they're a little drunk and silly in this one but it's super sweet and cute promise <3

"She's on the top ropes! What's she gonna do?" Eddie's exaggerated voice boomed off the walls of the hotel room, mixing with the infectious giggles that poured from your own lips.

You bounced on the edge of the bed above him, Eddie sprawled on the mattress below you, a sloppy grin spread over his features. You clutched the pillow, lifting it above your head, slamming it down dramatically with a grunt to his stomach.

"Oh! She's got me! She's got me!" Eddie groaned dramatically, turning to his side. "The ole ball buster's got me!"

"Hey!" You chirped, frowning at him though it wasn't very convincing, not with the laughs that were still bubbling over. "Watch it, Munson. Old?"

Eddie grinned, hands reaching to grab your knees, pulling you on top of him with a squeal. He rolled over top of you with ease, your loud shrieks and squeals deafening and his favorite sound all in one. His hands found your sides, lightly tickling under your rib cage so you bucked and screamed.

"Sorry, the beautiful ball buster." Eddie muttered, dodging your hand that broke free. His lips found your collarbones instead, playfully nipping at the skin there, sending you into another heaving fit of screaming laughs.

The night had started with a celebratory bottle of champagne, left in your room as a complimentary congratulations from the hotel on Eddie's win. Another bottle was ordered shortly after, arriving with your room service meal, and the Pay Per View code that tipsy Eddie had demanded.

"What even is this?" You'd frowned, a little tipsy from your own share of the bottle, teeth sinking into the fries.

"WWF?" Eddie's eyes lit up in shock. "You never watched wrestling? Stone Cold? Hulk Hogan?"

"No," You scoffed with an eye roll. "So this is what you do? But with costumes?"

"No, c'mon," Eddie snorted, shaking his head. "This is way more fun. Here, I'll show you. Let me put the moves on you."

You had half expected him to have you pinned to the mattress in a different way, hips snapping into yours furiously, leaving you drooling at shaking with pleasure. Instead, he'd popped the second bottle, standing on the chair in the corner, tapping his elbow before launching into the mattress dramatically. It was surprisingly silly, left you nearly choking on your fries with laughter.

He'd gotten you over his shoulders after a glass or two, shouting "Rock Bottom!" before flinging you onto the mattress easily, body sliding over yours, lifting your leg and pinning you while you cackled.

The roar of the announcers drowned out your own giggles, Eddie's slurring tone trying to match their cadence. "The Munsonator has her! Will she tap out? Tap out! Tap out!" Eddie boomed, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Never!" You screeched in laughter, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. "N-Never tap out." Your head spun, blood rushing mixing with the alcohol.

Your legs wrapped around Eddie's waist, twisting with all your might to roll him. Whether you'd actually rolled him or it was instinct, you weren't sure, but he rolled, his hands cradling your hip to steady you while yours pushed to his chest.

"Ah the ball buster's got me!" Eddie groaned, face smushing into the mattress when you pressed your palm to his cheek, pinning him there.

"Stop calling me that." You giggled, head tipping back. "I have a way better stage name than that."

"Yeah? What is it?" Eddie smirked, turning in your hold to look at you. "Joan Marie?"

"Who?" Your nose wrinkled with a snort of laughter. "No, I'd definitely go by something cool. Maybe, Elvira." Your eyes narrowed in the mean teasing way they always did, a little more exaggerated given your intoxicated state.

It made Eddie flush, cheeks burning with a rush of heat. Elvira, the movie the two of you watched the last time you got drunk like this. When you got a little loose, a little silly and sweet, and he did too. When he'd tell you little secrets more easily, less stoic and mean, softer. He'd lazily confessed to you that he'd always had a crush on Elvira, words slurred and the same half grin he was giving you now. You'd teased him endlessly about it, even sober, grinning as he'd shift with boyish embarrassment, trying to play it off.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Eddie grinned, flinging you back onto the mattress like you were weightless. "You are the fuckin' Mistress of All Evil, that should be your name. You sho- hey! Ow! What the fuc- there's no biting in wrestling!" Eddie gaped, pulling his arm back, eyes glassy and wide with dramatic shock as he examined the teeth marks on his upper arm.

You grinned, sliding back from under him, sitting up on your knees. "C'mon, Munsonator, y-hic!-you know you like it." Your teeth bared, a little wobbly with the alcohol still in your system. "Now, let me show you my finisher."

[vulpixisananimal]

"Look out, everyone!"

(Your feet feel like lead weights. Your shoulders, your back, your arms, your head your BLINDING head!! You could barely think! Let alone fight!)

(Don't think about the pain. Keep breathing.)

(How, HOW!?! PLEASE tell me HOW I can think about ANYTHING!!!)

"Loop please!!!" (Someone your shoulder, it was. . . The. . . Housemaiden.) "We can handle it, please! Just go rest!"

"I'm fine!" (You take your shoulder back, no touch.) "I, I can't leave you guys to, to do this alone."

(That was only half true. The real reason you stayed is because you woke up ten minutes ago. Despite your best efforts, you drifted to sleep. Stars, how stupid could you be!!! Now you were stuck HERE. And every failure would make it worse!!)

"We might not have that luxury." (The. . . Researcher calls over, readying herself.) "If we can figure out how to stop them now then. . ."

(. . . You forgot. Didn't you.)

(The Housemaiden looks at you, worried, then to Ramos, or what used to be Ramos.) "Grrr, fine! But you'll answer for this, buster!!!"

(Haha, you were terrified.)

"Plan, Loop?" (The Carpenter yells, she's in position with her hammer near The Kid)

(Ramos. . . Stars, what was your Defender thinking! You barely caught whatever conversation they were having, and, he could have been mind controlled or-)

(You forgot their names. Didn't you. You remember Ramos but not them? Your friends?)

". . . Try not to kill it." (You pause, trying to think of a tasteful way to say it- oh never mind that!!) "It'll, it'll kill Ramos too."

"!!!!"

"Oh. . ."

"R-right." (The Researcher says.) "Right, I suppose that, might make sense."

(You don't have a plan.)

(Yeah, you know. . .)

". . . J-just, just, just-"

(You, you don't know what to do.)

"Here they come!" (The Defender called over, he positioned himself in front of you.) "Don't strain yourself, Loop, just, try and figure something out."

(Right. . .)

(You feel like your body is shattering.)

(ATK down, DEF down, SPD down.)

(You concentrate really hard to speed up your friends.) "Right, it can still confuse you, try to avoid getting hit."

"Okay- Wait! I know!" (The Housemaiden claps her hands, and you feel something like a warm blanket wrap around you. You laugh.)

"Remembered the carrot method, did we?" (You call over.)

"Oh, it just came to mind, y'know?" (She smiles back.)

"Dunno if it'll work, but it's worth a shot. Let's go!!!" (Your Defender, strikes a pose, you feel a little stronger, but, not much.)

"We'll need to stall for time." (The Researcher crafts her spell.) "I can slow it down, but we need a proper plan."

"I-I'll, I'm trying-"

(So are you the Traveler again, Loop? And I, the Shadow? The Sadness?)

(Shut UP, you KNOW you forgot!!)

(The Sadness cries out, looking between you all, before diving at The Housemaiden.)

"I got it!!" (The Carpenter dashed forward and intercepted the attack, blocking with her hammer.) "N-no issue!"

"Thank you!" (The Housemaiden ducked to the side and swiped out with her rapier, it scraped on the sadness, but didn't doo much damage.)

(You're slow.)

(You shake your head. Loop time, you rush forward with your dagger and take a stab at the sadness. You connect. It doesn't do a thing.)

(Oh.)

(You look up at the sadness. It looked at you, it had insanity in its eyes. Oh. You're very weak.)

"HEY!!!" (Before you noticed, The Kid had smacked the sadness, it recoiled and you stumbled back.) "BE CAREFULL YOU CRABFACE!!!"

"R-right." (You held your head in your hand. Stars, come on, come ON. You're starting to feel numb again.)

(Do you even care?)

"Ramos!!!" (The Defender cried out.) "C'mon buddy!!! Snap out of it!!!" (He strikes, the sadness intercepts it with its, hands?)

"I don't think they'll hear you." (The Researcher whiped her brow before holding out a palm. The creative craft blasted the sadness, making it recoil, then scream.)

(It charged at her and lashed out.)

"Hrrngh-"

"M'dame!!!"

"A-are you alright?!?"

"I-I'll be fine."

(You shake your head, no, no she wouldn't be, there would be confusion, and then, and then-)

(Swap with me.)

(What?!? After what you've done!?! You'll drain the last of our energy!!!)

(You've been fighting too long. You need a breather, I handle it, stars, you forgot their names.)

(Like I'd trust you! You'll kill us!!!)

(You're killing us, too. Loop, I promise, I'll be conservative. I'll be careful.)

(. . . . . .)

(You breathe in, and out. Stars, you really did feel like walking death. Just breathe, Mal, it's Mirabelle next, take your time, look around.)

(Mirabelle claps her hands again, sending some healing craft to Odile. They were talking, making some comment, it didn't matter. Just focus on the Sadness.)

(Sadness. . .)

(A thing born of the sadness from frozen peoples; can no longer tell friend from foe. You could have been a sadness, maybe. What a sight that would have been. Ramos looked sad, and they looked desperate. They didn't want to fight you. Hmm. . .)

(You guard.)

"Smart!" (Isa calls back.) "We got it handled!"

(No, you don't. Isabeau threw a rock symbol and punches, the blast of craft glancing the sadness' side. It didn't do much. Rock on rock, of course.)

(Odile stood up, she shook her head.) "I-I think I'm being, effected." (She guarded.)

"Crab!!!"

(You needed a plan. Think. Think.)

(Why a sadness? Sadness were born from those frozen in time by the King. Ramos wasn't frozen, and there was no time craft in play. Perhaps it was made from Mind Craft? If that's the case then what other crafts could summon a sadness. Come to think of it, Ramos' sadness never froze any of you in time like those in the house could.)

(Sadness is a powerful emotion after all. And that is the domain of the mind.)

(Mirabelle holds out a hand and crafts a paper spell, the Sadness recoils, rolls with the hit.)

(What was Ramos screaming? As they turned into a sadness. Was it to someone?)

(. . . You open your mouth. You call Ramos name.)

(You see your allies wince at your voice, Ramos screams back. You didn't understand it. How do sadness communicate, you wonder. You call Ramos again.)

"OW!!" (Nille yelps.) "Crab was that!?!"

(She'll be fine, maybe Ramos could understand- wait-)

(WAIT.)

(You turn.)

(The sadness screams again and charges at you.)

(You try and dodge away, but your feet are still like lead, it's-)

(It strikes you in the chest and throws you across the yard.)

(Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. You got hit. You could feel your mind freezing up. You could, feel, your, mind. . .)

(Some "protector" you are.)

(You grip your head as a wave of nausea and strains run through you, swap. switch. tag out. can't. stay. I'm, sorry.)

(Was Ramos tugging at the star?)

"Loop!!!" (The Housemaiden ran over to you, a hand helping you up.)

(Your head. . .)

(Haha. . . You were going to diiiiieeeee~)

(You collapse back to the ground, gasping for air, keep breathing, c'mon, Loop, you need to keep breathing. Stupid, dumb. No, not stupid, it had a good Idea. Hah, Mal was being safe, and yet it still got hit. Actually, physically that hit wasn't that bad. But the lingering mind craft was still giving you waves of unease.)

(You feel the ground shake, you look up. The Carpenter had ran past you, charging at the Sadness, the Housemaiden cried out to stop her but, too late. She swung with her hammer and, sure, it hit, but the sadness just turned around and threw her accross the yard.)

(You're going to die. You're going to die again, and, and you won't be able to win.)

(The housemaiden, her name, what was her name! She stood between you and the sadness, hah, she was as weak to that thing as you were. She was so brave. . .)

(The sadness was coming towards you.)

(You're going to die.)

"Hey!!!" (Your Defender came swinging in from the side, striking at the sadness chest.)

(The sadness moved back, looked at the Defender, and attacked. It slashed acrross his chest, he tumbled backwards.)

(No, nonononononono.)

(The Housemaiden rushed forward, slicing at the sadness again and again. But, but, but the sadnnes just threw her to the side.)

(NO, NO, NO!!!)

(In Tears, And Time.)

(Blood. And. Stars.)

(You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die-)

"H-Hah! Good hit, buddy."

(. . . What. . . ?)

(The sadness stepped back and turned. Your Defender was standing up, he, he should be KOed, by all rights he should be, but. But he's still here, standing. His face, you could tell he was straining. The sadness screamed at him.)

(He closed his eyes, straining, but, he didn't fall.)

"I'm, I-I'm not, giving up, buddy. Rams."

(What, what is he. . .)

(The sadness attacked again, but the Defender, he wasn't even phased, he blocked them.) "I'm, I'm not gonna give up on you, buddy!!"

(He's, he, he-)

"You promised to never forget you're strong! So I promise, I'll be there for ya when you can't!!"

(. . . Isabeau. . .)

"We're gonna find a way to help you! And we're gonna fix this, we're gonna do it! And we're gonna do it together!!"

(He strikes a pose- Wait, that's--)

"We're gonna win!! Together!!!"

(It is. Stars, it is! It's that, it's that skill! That one Stardust always was able to get but YOU WEREN'T!!! IT's, IT-)

(You feel warmth through your veins. You stand up.)

(You're going to win.)

(You're going to win if it killed you.)

(Keep going.)

"Isa!!" (You yell as you run.) "Ramos!! What'd they say about the star!!"

"Huh?!?" (He turns to you as you get to his side.) "He said someone gave it to them!"

(Someone GAVE it to them?)

(Wishes aren't given. You're given the tools for them. Wishes aren't an item. Wishes- It's not a wish.)

(IT'S NOT A WISH!)

(IT'S, IT'S A TRICK!!)

"I GOT IT!!" (You smile, hehehehe. You had a plan. You rushed at the sadness, it screamed and lashed out at you.)

"Loop what-" (Isa yells, running to catch up.)

(You sidestep it, focus, focus. You grab onto the sadness tendrils, hopefully your gloves would be enough to stop the mind craft.)

"I have a plan!!" (You yell back,) "Try keeping it distracted!!"

(Isa nods. You lift yourself up onto the sadness' body. It's writhing, screaming, rattling through your head but still you persist. Not, yet. Isabeau strikes at the sadness, distracting it.)

(Hand, over hand, you grab onto the sadness head, it screams again, so loud. You feel numb, your legs, your fingers, just, keep, your, grip. Just, think, one thing, one target.)

"L-loop!!!" (You feel warmth wash over you, looking back, Mirabelle had ran over to help and healed you.) "P-please just be careful!!"

(You were way past careful. You pull yourself up, once, twice, again, again.)

(You grab onto the star upon its head, and tug.)

(It comes free.)

(You fly back off of the sadness, tumbling to the ground. You could feel the second wind of energy starting to dwindle again, but just a little bit more, please. You lift your head up to look.)

(The star landed at Isabeaus foot, The Sadness, it looked maddened. It charged at Isabeau, screaming.)

(Isabeau opened his arms.)

(As soon as it started, it was over, in a flash of light.)

(Ramos tumbled into Isabeaus arms, crying their brains out.)

(. . .)

(Did. . . Did you Win?)

(. . . You breathe out.)

(Mirabelle is now level 46)

(Odile is now level 46)

(Isabeau is now level 46. . . And learned the skill "WE! WILL! WIN!!!")

(Nille is now level 19)

"Loop!!!" (Mirabelle ran over to you and offered a hand, you took it. She helped you to your feet.) "A-are you alright?!?! Are you hurt?!? Where are you-"

"Slow down, Mira, I'm fine-" (Both a lie and too late. She was already fussing over a gash in your side. When did you get that?)

"You are absolutely not fine!!! You look like, like-!!"

"Hey go easy on em'." (Nille said, Bonnie was helping her over.) "Did just save the day after all."

(It, it's not over though, right?)

"THAT WAS SO COOL!!!" (Bonnie, by contrast, was full of energy and a-okay.) "I didn't know you could do stuff like that!!"

(It, it couldn't have been that easy.)

(You hid your face in your cloak.) "It was just a hunch it would work." (Stars, you feel so tired.)

"!!!!" (Mirabelle went running to Odile. Looking over, she was sitting on the grass rubbing her head.)

(It just, couldn't have been that easy.)

"Hah, healers job is never done I guess." (Nille said cheekily.)

(Bonnie turned to you.) "Dontch'ya know healing craft too?"

(Oh right.) "Oh! Are, are you two hurt?"

"I'll be fine, had a tonic. And my heads clearing up." (Nille said with a thumbs up.) "Those two though. . ."

(She gestured to Isabeau and Ramos. You could hear Ramos cries from here.)

"R-right. . ."

(You head over to them. Isa looks up as you approach. He looked, so, so happy.)

". . . It, it worked!" (He smiled at you.)

(It, it was that easy?!?)

(It, it can't have been, right?!?)

(He continued.) "I, I feel fine, Ramos is shaken up but fine. What about you? Any effects?"

(You stare at him. He's, fine? Ramos is fine? What? You, you felt. . .)

(Isa tilts his head.) ". . . Loop-"

"We won?" (You ask.)

(He's giving you the biggest smile you've ever see.) "Yeah!! We won!!"

(But, but that was, so fast. How did, how did you do it? It, this can't be it, right? You'll smell burnt sugar soon or see something red or-)

". . . H-hey. . ."

(You look down, Ramos had turned to look at you. They looked like a mess, they were crying still. They looked, they looked-)

"I-I'm, I'm sorry." (They mumble.)

(After all that. They're sorry. After all that time. After all that pain. That, that-)

"Y-you, you're. . ." (You say, feel dizzy.)

"Hey, Loop are you okay?" (Isabeau asks.)

"You're so, so. . . (The world is spinning.)

(You can't think straight. You feel numb. You can't feel your legs, your arms, you can't, can't, can't. . .)

"Yyyou're so, stuupid. . ."

(Curtains fall. Piper; payed.)

(You black out.)

[thebirdandthebee]

Mighty Fine (18+)

Just a little slump-buster ft. our favorite aviator. Taking requests for TGM and The Bear in my inbox. Smut ahead. Painfully pining Rooster. 18+ only! This is not edited, so please excuse any glaring issues.

Title: Mighty Fine Caroline, see, Caroline - all the guys would say she's mighty fine WC: 3716

The Hard Deck was not in a poor financial state – in fact, since Penny took it over five years ago, she’d done better business than the establishment had ever logged.

Sure, some positive changes, listening to customer feedback and stocking just the right kind of beer helped. But Penny knew that for the past year, there was specifically one woman who helped bump sales big time.

And tonight, a Friday night ahead of the fourth of July, Penny knew they’d hit record numbers.

The leggy brunette flitted about the full bar – packed asses to elbows – with a smile that held a secret and lashes longer than a summer afternoon.

Caroline was all perfume and warm skin. A promise of what could be behind a beauty mark and cherry gloss.

Tonight she’d tucked her white tank into a pair of cutoff shorts and knotted an American flat bandanna around her neck, the tip of the triangle teasing her cleavage. The low-slung cowgirl boots did nothing to interrupt the long lines of her legs and she trusted them with each pivot she needed to make through the crowd.

When her attention landed on you, it felt like you were the only person in the room. She knew how to work a crowd. A small gallery assembled to watch her re-stock the tray of cherries – one of her favorite snacks throughout the night.

“Caro, sweetheart,” Penny called, topping of a lager pour.

“Penny, my love,” Caroline countered, popping the tabs on three ciders.

“Can you let me these men live for one night?” Her boss teased, nipping at the fabric around her employee’s neck.

“I can’t show my love for America the beautiful?” Caroline replied with a wink. Penny laughed with a shake of her head.

Caroline had started at the Hard Deck last summer, asking for a few weekend shifts – the ones no one else wanted to take in order to enjoy their own weekends – since her classes for UCSD ran from Tuesday through Thursday.

“Rent’s due this week, Pen!” Caroline called as she ducked under the counter, greeting her adoring audience as she head to the stockroom to grab a crate of Sam Adams.

Rooster entered the bar that night with his hopes high and his buddies trailing close behind.

He’d had his sights set on Caroline for months. A squeezed shoulder here, a bat at his biceps there and he was hooked. Sometimes he felt like a cartoon, floating behind her like a cherry pie on its way to cool in the open window.

“Oh Rooster, you’re so fucked,” Fanboy commented, catching sight of the brunette wonder first. She was pouring a line of shots across the bar top, handing them out to a group of sailors who wished she was their treat instead. Taking a clear glass for herself, they all clanked their shots before tossing them back.

Penny didn’t mind if Caroline drank on the job – she was a grown woman who knew her limits who could always use working as an excuse to get out of it.

“Here’s trouble,” Caroline announced, “G&T, Fanboy?” She asked as they saddled up to the bar – their first stop before heading back to the darts.

“Please,” Fanboy grinned, basking in the glow of her attention.

“A rum and Coke for Coyote, Hefeweizen for Phoenix and porter for my Rooster,” she listed off, gathering glasses and stationing herself over the beer taps. “That sound right?” She asked with a tilt of her head, locking eyes with Bradley.

“Perfect as always,” he replied, his honey brown eyes melting into hearts.

“Ladies first,” Caroline simpered, handing Phoenix her beer, “then, we go in order of beauty,” she added. “Fanboy,” she passed over the gin and tonic, “Coyote,” she listed next, giving his rum and Coke a swish, “and, last, but certainly not least, Rooster,” she pulled the tap of the porter, leaving just the perfect thin band of foam at the top.

“You trying to break my heart?” Bradley asked, leaning over the bar, willing her to lean in closer.

“I gotta keep you humble, Rooster,” she replied, pushing his glass toward him, “because I know they don’t call you that due to the size of your ego,” she said, turning on a heel to attend to the other side of the bar while Jimmy grabbed the trash to bring out back. Though she tossed a wink over her shoulder that made his upper lip tremble beneath his mustache.

“When you going to let me buy you a drink?” He called out, voice nearly blending in with the buzz of the bar. She shook her head with a laugh, focusing on the task at hand, but they both knew she heard him.

Rooster joined his friends back at the darts. The Fourth of July weekend was guaranteed chaos at the ‘Deck – not too unlike Homecoming weekend at UVA. Bradley loved the liveliness of it all. However, it meant that Caroline’s attention was pulled every which way except his.

“I just think if I could get her alone for 10 minutes…” he said, eyeing her hopefully as she moved about the establishment.

“Rooster, give it up, she’s way out of your league and half the bar in here is hoping she’ll go home with them tonight,” Coyote said honestly.

“You’ve been drooling over her for months,” Fanboy agreed, “it’s getting pretty pathetic.”

But Rooster was more confident than ever. He knew they’d be great together – he just had to show her.

A little time passed, they took up a game of darts and after not too long, Caroline found herself making a sweep for empty glasses.

“Another, Phee?” She asked Phoenix, who nodded with a smile.

“We’ll do another round,” Coyote supplied. Caroline stacked up empty glasses, swinging around the space, aware of Rooster’s eyes on her as he leaned against the side rail that ran the length of the back wall.

“Grab your glass?” She asked, matching his posture against the drink rail, her open hand effortlessly clasping a tower of glass. Rooster pushed his empty toward her, a little downturned twitch of his mustache giving him away. “Why so glum, Rooster? It’s the Fourth of July,” she said, a little pout on her lips that made his stomach flip. “Have to imagine it doesn’t get better than that, huh?”

“What’s it going to take for you to have a drink with me?” He asked. “You know I’m eyein’ you up every time I come in here,” he elaborated.

“Maybe,” Caroline began, “I don’t want to have a drink with you at my place of work?” She suggested lightly. “But if you invited me to Buzzards, your odds would be a lot better,” she shrugged. “Thanks for the glass, Rooster, you can pick up a fresh one in 10.”

Caroline flitted away, making her journey back to the main bar with two tall stacks in her hands, gracefully hip-checking the counter to step inside.

“Maybe you do have a shot after all?” Phoenix asked, raising her brows as she turned back to the game of darts at hand. Bradley’s eyes tracked her as she moved about, pouring beers and mixing cocktails, his eyes zeroing in as she popped a maraschino cherry into her mouth before doing the same to a young, blonde sailor on the other side of the bar.

He wiped the back of his mouth off, crossing the room and heading over to the piano, his first initial plucks of the keys enough to clue a patron in to pull the plug on the juke box.

He cleared his throat as the intro grew stronger and louder, some already recognizing the tune.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing,” he crooned. “But I know it’s growing strong.”

A few cheers rang out.

“Was in the spring, and spring became the summer, who’d have believed you’d come along?”

Caroline’s attention pulled over to the far wall, it now impossible to ignore with half of the bar singing Neil Diamond.

Hands, touching hands Reaching out, touching me, touching you

“Sweet Caroline!” Rooster belted, “good times never seemed so good!”

The crowd sang back, fists being pumped in the air.

So good! So good! So good!

“I’ve been inclined to believe they never would,” he focused his attention back down on his hands, but he could feel the brunette’s stare on the back of his neck.

Caroline shook her head, topping off another drink before grabbing a tall one and making her way through the crowd, which was packed near the piano as he carried on.

One, touching one

“Reaching out, touching me, touching you,” Rooster remained as focused as he could when he felt a paper-light touch travel across his the span of his shoulders, followed by a full beer being set on the top of the piano.

“Okay,” Caroline grinned, “you’ve got my attention,” she said, her arm resting across the top of his back. “So what are you going to do with it now that you have it?”

“The Deck is open until 11 – Buzzards is open till one, meet me there when you’re done?” He asked.

“I’ll be there,” she agreed, running her hand up his spine to squeeze the back of his neck. Rooster could barely keep playing as he nearly twisted his head all the way around to watch her walk away.

Buzzards Bar was different than the Hard Deck – younger, louder, and for Rooster, much less likely to run into his superiors. Sure, lots of sailors and aviators ended up there, but it wasn’t a dedicated bar like their usual haunt. Without the uncertainty hanging over his head, he really loosened up and had fun with his buddies at the Hard Deck, but they didn’t join him a Buzzards, opting to go find some fireworks instead.

It was 11:45 and Caroline hadn’t shown up yet, at least that he could see. He grabbed a round of drinks, another beer for him and a dirty Shirley for Caroline. If nothing else, he knew she loved cherries and this could be a pretty safe assumption.

Keeping a barstool warm near the back, Rooster’s gaze scanned the growing crowd on the dance floor. He could feel the air shift as Caroline approached the table, dressed in her same little outfit, bandanna around her neck like a little pack of goodies he’d like to unwrap. However, an unfamiliar man, who was standing just a bit closer to her than either of them liked, was closely trailing her. He was obviously trying to carry on a conversation with her over the loud bass of the music and she couldn’t be less interested.

Without effort or hiccup, Caroline waltzed right up to Rooster, standing between his legs that were angled outward on either side of his body, his feet on the bar of the stool. She leaned up against him, her elbows on resting on his thighs with her back to his front. Rooster’s arm immediately looped around her body, resting just below her neck, spanning across her chest.

The man immediately got the message and backed off, but she remained snug in his embrace when he walked away.

Caroline tipped her head back to look up at Rooster.

She knew she had a reputation as a flirt. It was silly to be a bartender and not take advantage just a little bit of what God gave her. But she loved Rooster’s attention. He was safe, simple and straightforward. He didn’t play games and treated her with respect.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she smiled, sending the breath rushing from his lungs.

“Happy Fourth,” Rooster said, using his free hand to offer her the cocktail.

“Mm, cherry – how’d you know?” She asked, taking a sip through the small black straw.

“Watchin’,”he replied, missing her warmth already as she put a little space between them, standing with her back to the dance floor.

“You watchin’ me?” She asked innocently enough, elbows on the high-top table. It took everything in him to keep his eyes on her face and not her cleavage that was winning the fight against her little white tank top.

“Hard to look away,” he said, taking a drink of his beer. “Though I think this is the most time you’ve ever spent looking back at me,” he added.

“Then you’re not as observant as you think, aviator,” Caroline said, setting her drink down reaching for his hand, pulling him off the chair and leading him into the throng of bodies. “Because I look at you plenty.”

Rooster was so surprised and exhilarated he wasn’t sure where to put his hands right away as she leaned back into him, moving her body to the beat of the song.

Cause great scenes might be great But I love your bloopers

“Rooster, relax,” Caroline purred as he ducked his head down to be closer to hers – his height difference over her apparent. She reached back, taking his hands in her and placing them on her body – one on her ribs and the other just inside of her hips. “You got me right where you wanted me.”

And perfect's for the urgent Baby I want forever

Caroline’s hands drifted up to cradle the back of his head, her back arching in the slightest. And while Bradley Bradshaw was a man of morals, they were mostly forgotten as he lowered his mouth to Caroline’s neck.

Caroline, don't you see that I want you to be mine?

“You request this one?” Rooster asked, his mustache ticking her in a skin, which immediately went to her nipples, hardening them beneath her tank.

“Just lucky I guess,” she breathed, rolling her head to the side to give him a little more access to her skin.

“I think luck follows you around,” he said.

“It must if you’re here with me,” she replied. Rooster didn’t even justify her comments with an answer. If she thought she was lucky because he was there with her, she wouldn’t begin to comprehend the amount of times he’d dreamt of this moment.

“Rooster?” She asked, threading her fingers through his hair, giving it a little tug as a test. The groan in her ear told her all she needed to know.

“Caroline,” he huffed out an exhale.

“I don’t want the rest of that drink,” she said, looking up to lock eyes with him. “I want you to put me in that big blue truck of yours and take me home.” Rooster felt his heart skip hard enough that it shot him with adrenaline.

“Honey, lead the way,” he replied, sober as a judge.

She’d seen the blue Bronco pull up to the Hard Deck a hundred times – it was as much a calling card of Rooster’s as his mustache or Hawaiian shirts. Now, she was thrilled to be inspecting the inside, her back to Rooster’s side with his arm draped over her shoulder again as she made the most of the bench seating.

Leading Caroline by the hand from the car to the house, she gladly stepped into his bachelor pad.

Rooster was just grateful that Bob was out of town for the weekend.

“Roommate?” She asked, walking along the picture rail in the family room – something Bob put up. It was mostly his stuff, anyway.

“You know Bob?” Bradley asked, tracking her movement as he stepped out of his shoes.

“Bob the sweetheart is your roommate?” She asked, looking over her shoulder, eyes dilating in the slightest as she took in the view. Rooster with his big shoulders, broad chest and handsome face – honey brown eyes focusing entirely in on her.

“Bob the sweetheart?” He asked, a small quirk to his lips.

“Bob the sweetheart, Bob the puppy dog…” she trailed off. “Pen and I have many nicknames for perfect Bob.”

“I think I’ve heard enough about perfect Bob,” Rooster said, advancing her like a predator stalking its prey.

“Want me to tell you what we call you behind your back?” She asked, a glint in her eye as he scooped her up with one arm, holding her tightly to his body as he carried her back to his bedroom.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“We – well, more like just me, because Penny babies you,” she screamed as Rooster gave her ass a hard squeeze. “But I,” she leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “I call you Oh My God Rooster,” she giggled, tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. “Want to know why?” She asked.

“Tell me,” he said, kicking in his bedroom door.

“Because I always knew one day you’d make me say,” she fisted his shirt in her hands and tossed her head back, “Oh my God, Rooster!” She moaned, quickly gasping as he dropped her on his unmade bed.

“That shit isn’t fair,” he pointed an accusatory finger down at her before reaching for the fly on his shorts.

“Why not?” Caroline asked with a tilt of her head as she leaned back on her elbows.

“Because ever since you started at the Hard Deck, you haven’t given me the time of day,” he crawled over her on the bed, sealing his mouth over hers.

“I was avoiding you, I’ll admit,” she smirked, hips lifting as he began to pull her shorts off. “I knew as soon as this happened,” she paused, lifting his chin up to kiss her once more, “there’d be no going back.”

“You didn’t want to be my friend?” He asked, running his nose down her jawline as he reached behind her, pulling off her tank.

“Oh Rooster, we’re going to be much more than friends,” she purred, unhooking her bra. She reached for her little bandanna, but he stopped her.

“Leave it on, cowgirl,” he said, licking his lips. Stunned, he found himself down on the mattress, Caroline swinging a leg over his body to land gracefully on his hips. She pulled her bra down her arms and tossed it somewhere into the darkness – Bradley’s bedroom illuminated by the bright light of the moon through his window. He thought his tongue might roll out of his mouth like a yoyo.

“Does that make you my bucking bronco?” She giggled, reaching behind her to give his erection a quick, firm pump.

“Jesus,” he hissed, all the air leaving his lungs at once.

“Just Caroline,” she grinned maliciously.

“Why don’t you get up here and let me find out how sweet you are, Caroline,” he cajoled, tipping his chin up. The brunette threaded her fingers through his hair as she settled over his mouth, a long, low moan drawn from her lips as he licked a broad, flat swipe up the seam of her sex. Rooster’s hands slid around her sides and up to her lower back holding her body tight against his face.

“You’re never allowed to shave that mustache,” Caroline panted, followed by a high-pitched whine as she felt his whiskers against her clit. “Right there,” she mewled.

Rooster was a generous lover and apparently had a voracious appetite.

“Jesus Christ, Rooster,” she shivered as one of his thick fingers teased her entrance, circling her slowly as his lips cradled her clit. She could feel each and every one of his taste buds against her. “Roo, please,” she panted, “I want your cock.”

Bradley lifted her, a squeal on her lips as she landed back down on his abs. She couldn’t help but smile broadly at his wet mouth.

“If you smile at me like that again, I’m going to fucking marry you, Caroline,” he threatened, absolutely captivated by her.

She untied the bandanna from her neck, reaching down to cover his eyes and tie it loosely behind his head.

“Then don’t look, because I think I’m going to enjoy this a lot,” she said, smiling just the same as she lined up his cock and slowly sank down on it.

“You’re amazing,” Rooster crowed, “God you feel so good,” he said, hands resting on her soft thighs.

“You’re big,” she huffed, “like shit, Rooster, how do you have such good posture?” She asked, making him bark out a laugh. She settled herself all the way down and squeezed him on an upswing, making his abs flex as he tried to keep from busting immediately.

Leaning down, while still riding him smoothly, she pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek, tracing the line there with her tongue. He jumped as she dragged her teeth against his jawline, biting him gently while rolling his balls in her palm.

“Caroline,” he sounded worried, “I-fwa,” he lost his words as she did it again.

“Want me to stop?” She asked innocently enough.

“Don’t you dare,” he grunted while she tweaked his nipple.

“I can see it now,” she giggled, the action sending a ripple of pleasure down his spine. “C-a-r-o-l-i-n-e,” she twirled a finger across his pec.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” he promised, a sweat breaking out across his brow.  He could feel her fingernails just grazing his happy trail as Caroline circled her clit, wanting to meet him at his level.

“Rooster?” She asked, and he could hear the breathlessness in her voice.

“Caroline?” He countered, his face screwed up in conversation.

“Cum,” she commanded, finding her own euphoria, setting him off just moments later, thrusting up into her as he rode out his orgasm. Caroline grinned, pushing off his blindfold to reveal his beautiful face again. “Hi gorgeous,” she greeted, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

“What did I tell you about that smile?” He groaned, palming her ass in his hands.

“I know the consequences of my actions,” she sighed dreamily. Climbing off of Rooster, she wandered her way into the bathroom, cleaning up and grabbing the T-shirt that was slung over the bathroom door before pulling it on.

Rooster was sure he was delirious as she joined him back in the bed, hiking a leg over his hip and throwing his comforter over both of them.

“Rooster?” She asked, sparing a glance over at his alarm clock, which was flashing nearly two in the morning.

“Caro-line,” he sang back.

“I want my eggs scrambled in the morning,” she said, eyes closing gently as she curled up on his chest.

“Yeah? And what would you like to eat?” 

[purplemagics-blog]

ART THE CLOWN FINDS A KID!? LITTLE GIRL/KID READER!!🦝🤡🖤🩶🤍

“The monster gone. He’s on the run, and your daddy’s here.❤️”

Warning: descriptions of g0re, mentions of drugs, abused y/n, forth wall break lmao, cliffhanger (sorry), please tell me if I missed anything.

Backstory of Y/N: She had a happy life before everything went downhill on her 5th birthday when her parents divorce. Y/N’s mom would do dr7gs and abuse and blame Y/N for everything and Y/N only escape was her going to her dad but sooner or later the mom was suing for full custody and that made Y/N sad.

ART THE CLOWN HAS A FUCKING FATHER BONE IN HIS BODY! DO Y’ALL NOT REMEMBER THE LITTLE PALE GIRL!? SHE WAS BASICALLY HIS KID (i think) I LIKE TO THINK HE COULD BE A GIRL DAD!😖

Art the clown was no man of love or a family man. He lived for killing and slaughtering innocent people for the fun of it. He had broken into a house where he saw a woman popping pills and drinking wine while arguing with someone over the phone. He would just usually just kill the woman but then he saw a little girl not older then 5 or a younger looking 6 year old? You. You were sitting in the corner shaking and crying. You had so very obvious had been beaten by the woman and were trying to keep quiet. Well Art had 2 plans: 1.) kill you and your mother, 2.) kill the mom and take the kid in. Well tbh if this was in the actual movie he would kill you and your mom but since you are the main character in a fanfic made by the weird girl you’re going to live lmao (I love breaking the forth wall. Not sorry :3). Art walks up to your mom and grabs her by her hair and pulls her to the floor even ripping some of her hair out. You watch this scene with a scared gasp and hiding your face in your tiny hands. Art digs his tumps into the woman’s eyes as she screams at the top of her lungs. Art was has a wicked smile on his lips and then he rips the skin off the woman’s cheeks as she still is screaming. As you hear this you couldn’t hear this anymore as you pick up your favorite stuff animal a stuffed raccoon your father gave you before your parents separated and you ran to your room. You hid under the covers of your bed. After a couple of hours the screaming stopped and Art slowly walked into your room. You did a terrible job at hiding under the covers but as he pulled the blankets off of you. You looked at him. He was covered head to toe in blood and he did try his best to not scare you but be still somewhat did. He picked you up as you kicked and screamed and he made his way out the house.

“GET OFF!!”

You whine even if it won’t work. He found a car and broke into the back set and buckled you into a buster seat and you continued to kick and scream but Art was just worried about getting you far away from this apartment and life. He got into the front seat and started driving. You sooner or later tired yourself out and fell asleep gluching your stuffed raccoon in your arms. You woke on a floor with a little pale girl looking down at you. You screamed in fear pelting backwards but Art was just sitting in a chair making something until he heard you and then he turned in his set. He tried to comfort you by crouching in front of you trying to calm you down for a moment. After a couple of years of being in the care of Art and the little pale girl you liked it there. The little pale girl was like a sister and Art was like you guy’s dad!

IM SO SORRY IF YOU WANT A PT 2 I WILL MAKE ONE BUT FOR NOW I RAN OUT OF IDEAS FOR THIS😖 BYE

[bustermoonsposts]

THIS ONE IS LONGER I PROMISE UUU

Angela from smosh cus i ran out of headers

 He tried his best to drive steady, hands shaking. God, I haven’t driven a car in what…fifteen years, he thought while driving down Broad St. It was dead silent. He pulled over, sat still, he prayed to whatever GOD was out there that this was a dream that he would wake up and get to work and see his friends safe and as normal as the little troup they had were he opened his eyes wide, reached for his phone, and called someone…

Ring

Ring

Ring

“H-hello?” the person on the other line answerd

“Rosita, are you ok…?” Rosita couldn't make it tonight because one of her kids, Casper, had a doctor's appointment at the same time as the show so she had to leave early and only had a part at the beginning of the 1-hour show (and Casper was always a little fighter at the doctor's)

“Yeah uhm me and Casper are still at the hospital-and uh there are the uh doctors and their eyes are glowing and their acting hostile” rosita said with a shaky breath her fingers digging into her phone

“Yeah…the others were too…there was an explosion or something at the local science lab, a weird goo it makes people go loco its very weird…” Buster said restarting the truck “which hospital are you at ill come pick you up-”

“ we’re at the ocean side hospital”

“Ocean side? That’s very far”

“Its the only one that'll take us”

“Alright”

“Im on my way……”

CHAPTER 2 the hospital

About half an hour later Buster arrives in the hospital parking lot taking a deep breath and looking through the truck for some type of weapon (yknow since its big daddys car he has to have something like a-) “A gun!?” he practically screamed, there were no bullets so he could…throw it at someone…??? Whatever he’ll think about it when or if he's in danger he enters the hospital the automatic doors making a loud screech hurting his ears as they pin against his head he looks around for what he can see

SO MANY INFECTED patients doctors nurses you name it, ITS A NIGHTMARE!!!

Buster's heart raced as he stepped into the chaotic scene of the hospital. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow on the faces of the infected. He scanned the waiting area, eyes darting from one distressed figure to another, searching for Rosita and Casper. “Stay calm, stay focused,” he whispered to himself, gripping the steering wheel of anxiety in his gut. He spotted a nurse staggering toward him, her clothes stained with something that resembled a thick, viscous goo. Her eyes were wide, vacant, devoid of recognition. “Hey!” Buster called out, but she only groaned in response, lurching unsteadily. He sidestepped quickly and headed toward the triage room, knowing that he had to find them fast. He pushed through the double doors, taking in the sight: frightened patients huddled together, some covered in the bizarre substance, others moaning in despair. Buster felt the panic rising, but he had to push it down. “Rosita!” he called, straining to keep his voice steady. “Casper!” There was no response at first, just the sounds of distress echoing off the walls. He moved deeper into the room, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, through the chaos, he heard a familiar voice. “Buster!” came Rosita’s shaky cry from a corner of the room. He turned abruptly, spotting her crouched beside a curtain, clutching Casper close. The boy's face was pale, but he was safe, at least for now. “Thank God!” Buster rushed over, dodging an infected nurse who stumbled past him, moaning. “Are you two okay?” “I-I think so,” Rosita stammered, her eyes wide with fear. “But we can’t stay here! They—they keep coming!” Buster quickly scanned the area and noticed a door at the far end of the room. “We need to move. Can you walk, Casper?” He knelt down, meeting the boy’s gaze. Casper nodded, albeit a bit hesitantly. “Okay, we’re getting out of here,” Buster said, offering his hand. Rosita gently helped her son to his feet, and they began to make their way toward the exit. As they approached the door, a loud crash echoed through the room. A group of infected burst in, their eyes gleaming with a chaotic frenzy. Buster’s instincts kicked in. “Run!” he yelled, pushing Rosita and Casper ahead of him. He turned to face the incoming tide, raising the gun he had found earlier—the heavy metal felt oddly comforting in his grip. “Get to the door!” he shouted again, his voice fighting against the rising fear. Rosita and Casper sprinted toward the exit, while Buster squeezed the trigger. It clicked empty, but it was enough to draw the attention of the infected momentarily. He hurled the gun toward the nearest figure, just to buy them a second or two. “Go, go, go!” he shouted, backing toward his friends as they reached the door. He grabbed the handle, pulling it open as he dodged to the side, urging Rosita and Casper outside. They stumbled into the cool night air, gasping for breath. “Over here!” Buster pointed toward his truck parked nearby, the headlights cutting through the darkness. They took off running, adrenaline propelling them forward. Once they reached the truck, Buster quickly yanked open the door and helped Rosita and Casper in. “Get buckled!” he ordered, hopping into the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut behind him. Rosita strapped Casper in with shaking hands. As Buster turned the ignition, the engine roared to life, cutting through the sounds of chaos behind them. He peeled out of the parking lot, the hospital fading in the rearview mirror.

[lilaberri]

I had this idea since the fan edits video. Matt’s fall freak out was completely warranted and I thought a fic of the reader meeting him at a pumpkin patch would be cute.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

September 21st you wake from your restless sleep. You had went to bed early but the excitement for the next day kept you up. As you looked outside from your bathroom you saw a fog settle low to the ground, perfect pumpkin patch weather. It was getting colder as the month went on and the leaves were beginning to change as well. Lilly texted the day before that she would pick you up by 11.

As you turn off the shower and enter your closet you try to find an outfit that is cute but also tactile. Settling on a navy blue cable knit sweater, medium wash jeans, and some old carhartt boots.

You get dressed and see you have a few minutes to grab something to eat before Lilly arrives. There wasn’t much you wanted in the fridge so you settled on some crunchy Raisin Bran. It wasn’t too bad once you added some blueberries and bananas.

Drinking the last of the milk you hear a honk and place the bowl in the dishwasher get your keys and hop in the car. “Hey,” you say all smiley.

“What’s up with you?” She drives off with Kesha in the background. “It’s so nice today all dark and stormy.” “Some would call this bad weather.” “Well it’s good for picking pumpkins , very fall.” “True, you can have aux if you want.” “Yeah thanks I’ve had this song stuck in my head all morning,” you play iyaz’s Replay. “Okay throwback,” she chuckles. “It’s so good makes me think of my pink iPod deck. I wonder what happened to that?” “Your brother threw it off the balcony because you wouldn’t stop playing Hannah Montana.” “That demon has been praying on my downfall since I was born!”

Pulling into the patch lot you see only a few other cars, which was nice since you wanted to take pictures too. “I’ll pay and you get the gloves and lay down the tarp,” Lilly says. “Why’d you bring gloves?” “I just got my nails done. And the dirt under my fingernails would freak me out,” she replied. With a nod you go to the trunk finding the gloves and spreading out the tarp. “The guy working was really cute, he told me the best place in the patch was the fourth row.” “Thank you cute patch man,” you joke.

Walking along the rows you see a few small ones you wanted to get for the house and then saw the perfect pumpkin. No warts, curly vines, deep orange color. You go to call over your friend but when you turn around a man is trying to lift it up. “Hey freeze!” “Did you just tell me to freeze?” He asks. “That’s my pumpkin.” “Then why is it in my hands?” “Im wondering the same thing.” “And while you figure that out I’m going to my car,” he retorts. “No way I saw this one first he’s mine.” “It’s just a pumpkin. There’s like a hundred more just like it.” “No this is the best one by far. But since you think there are other good one I’ll just take this one off your hands.” You reach for it but he pulls it from your grasp quickly. His eyes widen in disbelief. “You did not just try to steal my pumpkin?” “Please, I’ll give you,” you go to dig in your purse but came up empty. Only a Dave and Busters power card, three mints, and a nickel. Your surprised expression makes him giggle. “I don’t want your money. But since you want it so bad I’ll give it to you, for a price.” “I literally only have mints and a nickel in here so it’s not much of a prize.” You didn’t want him to know about the power card, you were an avid D&B patron. “You have to help me find one that is just as good.” “Okay deal,” you go to shake his hand but he lifts the pumpkin and you just pat it instead. “Onwards- what’s your name?” “Matthew.” “Onwards Matthew!”

[danses-with-dogmeat]

M is for... The Mysterious Stranger

Ohhhhh, this one had SO MUCH potential for SO MANY things, and I just... I hope that my excitement surrounding this character and his mysteriousness and the abundance of potential there shines through in this piece <3

Golly, I hope you all love it! Cuz honestly I was SO excited to share this one with y'all :)

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

--

Pair: Mysterious Stranger & g/n! Sole (but who used to go by Nora)

Dialogue: “I never should’ve left you alone.”

Word: Memory

Rating: SFW

Category: Angst

Word Count: 2k

Maybe this was wrong of me… After all, the Stranger’s always been helpful, more than anything. Is it fair for me to trick him like this?

Sole gulped, anxiety fluttering in their belly, even as Nick gave them a solid nod from his hiding place. 

I’ll have to borrow his confidence, they decided, And his curiosity. 

Just then, the hired gun across the way set loose a rain of bullets in their direction, just as planned, and that inexplicable feeling rose up in them, that call to the void for aid in the form of the mysterious, cloaked man. 

Who, just as inexplicably, appeared from nowhere, right where Sole and Nick had planned, had expected. Before his own bullet, fired with an expert precision Sole had only seen once before in their life, could land upon the man they’d hired to put them in false danger, Nick pounced. 

The Mysterious Stranger tried to duck away, his coat billowing in the chaos, but Nick’s hold was too tight. He had him. 

“Quick, Sole! Help me get a hold on him.” Nick growled through the effort of wrestling with the tall man. 

Sole could only move slowly, unconsciously half-hoping that he would escape, that he could remain a mystery.

After this, how can I expect help from him again? How many times he’s saved my ass, and this is how we repay him… 

More than anything, it felt like a betrayal. 

Could Nick’s curiosity, could their own being satisfied, really make this worth it?  

The Mysterious Stranger’s face remained covered, all through the scuffle, his hat brim low, and the collar of his trench coat high. Trying to differentiate between the synth detective and this strange man was difficult enough on its own, with the way they rolled upon the dusty road beneath them. 

“Sole!” They heard Nick’s shout from within the dust cloud. “You wanna, ah, give me a hand here?” 

Finally, that had them springing to action, their own hands reaching out to pin the shoulders in front of them. 

Thank goodness they were the right ones. 

The man was panting as Nick managed to pin the rest of his body to the ground, synthetic hands holding firm to his arms, while Nick sat and straddled his dress slack-donned legs. 

“Alright, buster, you’ve been caught.” 

The stranger let out a grunt of his own, as he made one last-ditch effort to escape his assailants, but all that managed to do was knock the hat from his head. 

Then everything froze. 

Sole’s hands went limp where they rested on his shoulders, and the stranger’s eyes, those eyes stayed wide as they locked to theirs. But he stayed still. He didn’t try to flee, but nor did he speak a word. 

Quick breaths continued to escape him as Sole’s expression fogged over, first with shock, then confusion, and lastly, fury. 

Shaking their head in utter disbelief, Sole released his shoulders completely, and got to their feet. 

“Sole? What is it?” Nick continued holding the man down, but he hadn’t struggled. Not since Sole saw who he was. “Or rather, who is it?”

Golden eyes shone as they looked down to the stranger, then back to his partner. 

To think… Sole’s head continued shaking, the wheels in their mind spinning so quickly they were damn-near ready to break off of their hinges. All that I believed to be true. All this time… 

“You remember…” Sole whispered, a cold fierceness accompanying their words. “I told you I had a husband once, but that he was dead? Killed by the Institute? Guess I had that bit wrong…” 

Their gaze glossed over the man on the floor, in favor of looking to Nick directly. 

“Nick, meet Nate.” 

“What?” Nick blinked at them, then down to the man he’d captured. “Now, how do you figure that… Didn’t you say there was ahh, well, a body?” 

“Yeah, well,” Sole turned and began picking up their things, tossing a bag of caps to the hired gun before waving the relieved bystander on his way. “The Institute’s been known to have a few tricks up its sleeve. Wouldn’t shock me to find out that they’re planting fake corpses around.” 

At that, Nick released him. A disgusted look rested on the synth’s lined face as he stood up himself and dusted off his trench coat. 

“You got anything to say to that?” He prompted the ‘stranger,' a fierceness akin to their own hardening his voice.

“I can explain, Nora.” 

The voice sent chills up Sole's spine, making them feel sick, but also… home at the very same time. 

“Haven’t you been listening? They don’t go by that name anymore.” Nick practically snarled in their defense. 

“I’m sorry, sorry, I just…” He stuttered, but slowly, Nate made a move to stand up. 

And surprisingly, Nick let him; though his brows were hard over his shining eyes as he continued to regard Sole's... not-so-late spouse.

Now that he was at his usual height, Sole felt like banging their head against a wall. 

How the hell did I not guess this? His height, his accuracy, even the type of gun he uses, all dead giveaways. How could I have been so blind?

At the look on their face, Nick must’ve guessed what they were thinking. 

“He’s supposed to be dead, doll.” A cool hand placed itself on their shoulder as they looked to the ground. “No way you coulda known he wasn’t.” 

They nodded at that, their expression solemn. 

“Why did you do it, then, Nate? Or should I even call you that?” 

“I haven’t gone by Nate in a long time. Since… since before the bombs fell, but… Sole, I don’t know quite how to tell you this…” 

“Nothing you say will be more shocking than what I’ve already discovered today, so might as well just spit it out.” 

Visibly, he gulped, and Nate’s gloved fingers fiddled with the pockets of his trench coat. 

That’s an old habit. Sole’s mind reminded them without permission. All the wedding photos, and his hands are fidgeting with the shallow pockets of his suit jacket. 

I pretended to be angry, but really…I just found it endearing. 

They didn’t feel that way now. 

“I thought I was him, thought I was your Nate…” 

My Nate… 

Their chest gave a painful ache that went, frustratingly, straight to their tear ducts. 

“But I was wrong. All those memories… fabricated. Taken from journal entries, from photos and memories that Father believed would’ve been housed in his late father’s mind. But it was a sham. A trick he’d had in mind, I think… Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he really did want a father in his life, wanted family... but, when I found out I was a synth, and when I found out about the kid he’d made. Our kid– or, yours.”

Nate shook his head, the pale lines on his face becoming more pronounced with every elongated instant of this painful conversation. 

Sole actually found themself feeling a twinge of pity alongside their continuing shock. 

“I don’t know. It’s all so… messed up, everything that he’s done. Trying to trick you, making me, some mockery of the old Nate, and then… after I found out the truth, when he realized I’d gone through his terminal, well… let’s just say it wasn’t easy getting out of there in one piece.” 

Nick blinked, his mouth half-open as he took in the story. 

“Unfortunately, all that seems pretty on-brand for the people who made me...” The detective added solemnly.

Nate nodded his agreement, his eyes downcast. 

“The Railroad helped a lot, but I had to escape them too, once I realized they wanted to erase my memories. I... couldn’t let them, couldn’t turn my back on your husband’s story, not when it was the only man I could imagine being. Even if I was… I don’t know, false?” 

Sole turned to Nick, just as the old synth sighed. 

“Boy, do I know the feeling… Not so different, you and I. No wonder I was so drawn to finding out the truth about ya.” 

“Right…” Nate rubbed at the back of his neck, another old habit Sole had been fond of. Hell, they’d actually counted how many times he’d done that on their first date. They seemed to remember the number being in the double digits. Why he’d been so nervous having dinner with them, they never knew, but still… another endearing characteristic of the man they’d loved. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Sole…” His voice roused them from the memories. 

“Yeah… I just, well… Why didn’t you approach me sooner? I mean, this ‘Mysterious Stranger’ business has been going on for months now. Why did you never think to come out and explain yourself?” 

“I guess I was scared.” He admitted, but they could see he’d thought about this answer before. Maybe he’d even counted on them finding out his identity one of these days. 

“I knew how much you’d been through, and… as much as I wanted to see you safe, as much as I felt this need to help you, I was afraid that you’d turn me away. I know deep down that I never should've left you alone, the way that I did, but if you refused me..."

He sighed heavily, and Sole noted the genuine pain written upon his face.

They always hated seeing him this way, his brows scrunched, eyes glistening, lips drawn downwards. It was like his hurt bled through his expression, and right back into them.

"Then… I don’t know what I’d do. Knowing you’re out here, but not being able to protect you? The old Nate would haunt my dreams until I officially lost my mind.” 

He let out a nervous chuckle at the end, but Sole still just had confusion written in their furrowed brows. 

“So, what? Then you just planned on spying on me for the rest of my days, but never actually making contact? What kind of life would that be?” 

“I don’t know," He shrugged, "one that I deserve, I guess. I never had any delusions that you could care about me the way you did your real husband, and to be honest, I’m not sure how much of that Father would’ve gotten right in the first place, I mean… Did you even like the guy? Nate, I mean… I know that marriage back then wasn’t always for... love, and I’m under no–” 

“Did I like him?” Sole scoffed at that. 

Isn’t it obvious?

“Nate, I… I loved him.” 

Nate’s eyes, that vibrance Sole knew so well that they frequently saw it in their dreams, grew wide at their confession. 

“I loved him from the start." They continued, "Him and Shaun, loved them with everything in me… But they were both lost to me, one way or another. I had to try and shut out those feelings or… I didn’t know quite how to go on. I lost so much all at once, even before being frozen, when the world went up in flames. But I thought I could make it, if I had my family by my side, I’d be okay. But then…”

“Then the Institute happened.” Nate’s voice was dark with malice as he spat the name of the faction that had made him, and then betrayed him. 

That had betrayed them both. 

“I’m… I know it can’t mean much to you, but, all the same… I’m so sorry for everything that happened. For everything they did to you. You deserved so much better.” 

Sole’s glistening eyes snapped to him, and there was a sternness there that nearly made Nate recoil. 

“Can’t mean much… Nate, it means the world to me.” 

Tentatively, Sole stepped forward, and they felt Nick’s gaze lingering on them as they reached out a hand and brushed it over one of Nate’s broad shoulders. 

“You’ve been through hell, just the same as me. Shaun… Father, he did this to us, and much as I’d love to forgive him, much as I wish he was the boy I wanted to know, or the man I always dreamed he’d grow up to be, he was lost to me– to us, the moment the Institute stole him away. With him… I fear there’s no second chances.” 

Their voice cracked at the painfully true words, and Nate’s own expression reflected that hurt, his dark eyebrows creased, his bottom lip giving a melancholic twitch. 

“But with us… Maybe that doesn’t have to be the case.” 

[juanysusalchica]

Fang x Pregnant! Reader Headcanons

This wasn’t the first time you were pregnant; in fact, this was your third pregnancy.

When you revealed the news to Fang, he was shocked; unlike the previous pregnancies where he expressed pure joy and excitement, this time however he looked at you with a frightening face, fearing that it would happen all over again.

This was because you had the misfortune to have miscarriages, on your first pregnancy you had a mild fever and you did a grave mistake in consuming pills that lead you to abort the child, as much you didn’t want to, you were forced to continue the abortion. For your second baby, you and Fang waited for around three years to try again, allowing your body to heal physically, when the results came you were overjoyed at the excited news of having rainbow baby.

Everything went great until you start to notice that your pregnancy symptoms were disappearing and the next thing you knew, you were already at the hospital, laying on the stiff, cold bed with a dissociate stare, on the meantime Fang sat next to the bed as he held your hand squeezing it lightly, whispering reassuring words to you as he tried his best to contain his tears, needed to be brave for you. And now, here you are staring deeply at the pink stick with two bold lines that rested on your palm, yours hands was beginning to shake.

You both were undecided whether to have the baby or abort it, but after days of negotiating, you and Fang finally made the decision to continue the pregnancy.

Don’t get him wrong, Fang doesn’t want you to get rid of it, you’re literally growing a life inside of you. A life that you both made together but after experiencing the deaths of his previous children, he didn’t want to relive the experience, he didn't want you to go through this pain again.

Fang likes to showoff, it’s just his nature. He would’ve immediately run up to tell Buster and Maisie the news of having a child with you but this time you both kept the pregnancy in secret, you guys didn’t want to give them false hope like the previous ones.

Fang isn’t good at cooking. He insisted that he’ll try to learn in making you healthy meals but the last time he tried to fix you up some dinner, but he ended up burning the rice and the meat was still raw on the inside. Of course, you had to convince him not to in multiples times.

As months went by as your stomach began to grow, you were forced to get maternity clothes since you felt snug on your ones. Fang worked extra hours on the cinema to gather enough money to buy you the new set of clothes, you truly appreciate it. Literally is what made you fall in love with him in the first place. Surprisingly, you have never reached to this phase of your pregnancy, but you tried not to get attached with it, who knows if this baby might even survive.

When he saw your baby-bump for the first time, he was thrilled, he couldn’t contain his excitement to stretch out his hand to feel the tender baby laying dormant within you. Just when he was about to rest his palm on your stomach, you swat his hand and moved inches away from him. Fang looked at you with wide eyes, stunned by your sudden reaction.

“Please don’t touch me… I don’t want to have your hands on me.” You shook your head, holding tightly on your oversized shirt to hide your growing body. You didn’t want anyone one to touch you or your baby, afraid that the constant touching might cause another miscarriage and you didn’t want to risk it.

Fang noticed how often you avoid looking yourself in the mirror and would wear baggy, oversized clothes to hide your pregnant body. It was obvious that this pregnancy was affecting you, the way you saw your round body with disgust says it all. The following day, you woke up and noticed that majority of the mirrors of his apartment were either put away or covered with sheets.

It took almost three weeks later until you finally grew comfortable with your new body, as the two of you were cuddling while watching a movie together, without muttering a word, you grabbed one of his hands and guided towards your baby-bump and waited for his reaction.

Fang tensed up by this sudden movement but slowly relaxes as he furrowed his brow with deep concentration, until a faint gasp escaped from his lips when he felt his developing infant kick against his red gloved hand as a way to say ‘hello’. He dove down, trailing his lips on your round tummy to kiss his infant.

“It’s going to be okay… I just know it, you will be in our arms one day.” he whispered, petting his hands carefully on the baby-bump. His eyes fired with determination for he was sure that this time it will all be different, hoping with anticipation that you’ll finally meet this precious child that you created together.

[justhilary123]

Curse of the WereMouse Chapter 3

*The Next Morning*

*Freyja is seen, laying on her bed, her alarm goes off and she wakes up*

Freyja: *yawns* I hope Mickey’s okay. I think I better go make sure he’s okay.

*Outside in the neighborhood*

Freyja: *Comes outside, wearing her pink fair maiden dress* Let’s go check up on Mickey.

*Freyja heads on over to Mickey’s house.*

Mickey: *comes downstairs, wearing his usual red shorts with white buttons, white gloves and yellow shoes* Coming! *opens the door*

Freyja: There’s our number one mouse.

Mickey: Golly! Hi, Freyja!

Freyja: I figured I come down here and see how you’re doing.

Mickey: Oh. I’m fine! *his tummy gave a loud rumble*

Freyja: Whoa! What was that?!

Mickey: *rubs his tummy* It’s only my tummy rumbling! I’m getting hungry. Ya know, I was about to go make some breakfast after I got dressed and did some washing up. Care to join me, princess?

Freyja: You bet! *her phone calls* It’s Leela. Hold on! *She answers the phone* What’s up, Creature Girl Leela!

Leela: Hi, Freyja! Think you can come over here after breakfast?

Freyja: Okay. I’m about to go have some breakfast with Mickey.

Leela: I see. Well. Ethan and I will see you later after breakfast.

Freyja: Okay. *hangs up*

Mickey: C’mon, Freyja! Let’s head to the kitchen for breakfast!

*After breakfast, Freyja went to visit Leela and Ethan.*

Freyja: So, how did the research go, Leela?

Leela: So far so good! Believe me. That was no ordinary wolf that attacked you guys last night. This is much more serious. Turns out that creature that attacked you guys is actually a werewolf.

???: Did someone say, werewolf?

*A man with a beard, a tan jacket, tan pants, black boots and a camouflage cap appeared.*

Leela: Who are you?

Wallace: Wallace McDuffy, at your service.

Leela: What are you doing here, Wallace?

Wallace: I came into this world looking for a werewolf. And I know a werewolf when I see one. And I’m planning on tracking it down and catching it.

Leela: There’s no way you’re gonna do that. As the creature girl, I ordered you to leave. Now! *kicks Wallace out*

Wallace: You haven’t heard the last of…

Ethan: I think we have, Buster! *Closes the door*

Wallace: Those brats would regret the day they ever heard of Wallace McDuffy!

Leela: Right then. Where were we?

Ethan: The werewolf?

Leela: Right! Werewolves are spooky creatures with fur, sharp claws and bushy tails.

Freyja: Oh my gosh! That is scary! It must’ve happened while we were with Colin and Josephine in the woods last night.

Leela: This is not good. Tonight’s a full moon.

Ethan: In that case, we better whip up an antidote.

Leela: You read my mind.

*Meanwhile, Hilary was visiting Mickey*

Hilary: I wonder what kind of fun we’re gonna be having today.

*She noticed Mickey wearing a vampire costume.*

Mickey: Ready to show off what you can boo?

Hilary: Ready!

Mickey: Yay! It’ll be a treat to use our imaginations together!

Hilary: So, what’s it going to be this time?

Mickey: Let’s pretend to be werewolves!

Hilary: *gasps* Werewolves?! Oh boy!

Mickey: Start by getting down on all fours! *He and Hilary both got down on all fours* Shake your fur and sharpen those claws! Now, lift your head and howl at the moon.

Mickey and Hilary: *howling*

Mickey: Hot dog! Pluto would love this game. *He stood up and helps Hilary to her feet* Oh. I’ve had such a howling good time imagining with you.

Hilary: *her phone rings* It’s Leela! *she answers the phone* Hello! Werewolves R Us!

Leela: Hilary! We’ve got a serious problem right now. Not only have we discovered that there’s a werewolf on the loose, but, we also got a hunter named Wallace who is after the beast.

Hilary: Not good at all! Hold on! I’ll be there in a minute. *hangs up* Mickey! I gotta go! Leela needs help with a creature.

Mickey: Okay. See ya later!

Hilary: Just Remember what Leela said, if anything goes wrong. Let me know. *she walks away*

Mickey: Hmm. I wonder what that is all about. Oh. Well.

*The Park*

Leela: *Claps her hands* Okay, guys. There are lives at stake and with the full moon coming out tonight and a werewolf that’s on the loose, everything could change quickly.

Ethan: Luckily, Leela, Freyja and I whipped up an antidote.

Freyja: For the antidote, we added a tuft of werewolf fur, wolfsbane, moonbeam and a sprig of dill.

Leela: All we have to do is find the werewolf, cure him with the antidote and blammo, all our problems are solved.

Hilary: Wait. What about the Wallace part?

Leela: Oh. Right. Wallace! We need to make sure he can’t catch that werewolf.

*Later that night, Mickey went to go see Pluto.*

Mickey: Hiya, Pluto! You won’t believe what we did today. This morning, Freyja came over for breakfast and earlier today, Hilary and I pretended to be werewolves. *got down on all fours* And I figured you would love this game!

Pluto: *barks, then, howls*

Mickey: *howls*

*The moon is seen, shining bright in the night sky*

Pluto: *gasps, then, barks*

Mickey: What is it, Pluto?

*Pluto went into a pointer bit, pointing toward the clouds moving to reveal the full moon*

Mickey: Oh no! Pluto! Run! Go get help! Get the kids! You gotta help me! Tell them I’m in danger! Before it’s too late! Go!

*Pluto runs off as Mickey’s transformation slowly begins*

Mickey: *his body starts to rapidly change, his teeth sharpen into fangs, his fingers sharpen as the claws come out, his tail gets all bushy, his shoes ripped and he becomes furry, as his red shorts with white buttons ripped. His eyes closed, now they are a golden yellow color*

*A long shot of the neighborhood*

*A loud howl is heard*

(To be continued...)

[zipzapzopzoop]

There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow

Chapter 18: Slipping Through My Fingers All the Time

Franny dropped him without a second thought.

In a fraction of a second, Franny’s anger changed to confusion. She took a step back, trying to understand what was going on.

With nowhere to run, the stranger slumped to the floor and seemed to curl in on himself. Only then did Franny notice the cord and guard attached to the gun she was holding.

“Mom?” 

Franny jolted when the door opened and Wilbur began to walk in. 

“Mom, are you okay? I heard something break.” Franny frantically motioned him out. “Stay in the hall! Don’t come in!” Despite looking startled and confused, Wilbur obeyed.

“What’s happening?” He called.

“I don’t know yet, just stay there! And shut the door!”

Wilbur did so. He waited in the hall for a minute. 

Suddenly there was the sound of something getting knocked over in another room. Who’s there…? 

Wilbur headed towards the noise in the darkness of the house.

Back in the storage room, Franny blindly felt around the walls until she found a lightswitch. 

The light came on, and even without the helmet and goggles, Franny recognized him in a heartbeat. He may be her nephew, but from the moment his mother abandoned him and his sister, Franny and Cornelius stepped up, and he became like another child to her. She didn’t know whether to be relieved to find him or upset that she had attacked him.

“Laszlo! I’m so sorry, I had no idea it was you!”

He didn’t look up at her. Instead he stayed with his face buried in his knees, breathing heavily. She suddenly realized he was having a panic attack. 

For the third time in two minutes, she went into mother bear mode.

Franny kneeled by him. “Honey, look at me.”

A choked sob escaped his throat, and he hugged himself tightly. “Shoot,” she muttered. This is a bad one. He doesn’t have his medicine, that's still in the future. She looked around. His goggles. That might be why he wouldn’t look up. It was discovered a few years ago that when Laszlo was anxious, his goggles always helped.

Franny retrieved them and tried again. “Lasz, look at me. It’s okay, I have your goggles.” Slowly, Laszlo glanced up at her with tearful eyes. He looked at the goggles in her hand and gently reached out to take them. Franny rubbed his shoulder lovingly. He was shaking like a leaf. “It’s okay...”

Laszlo slipped the goggles over his eyes, and Franny could tell almost immediately that they were calming him down. His breathing began to slow, and his shivering lessened. He sniffed and wiped away a couple stray tears that slipped from his eyes. He struggled with anxiety almost all his life, so Franny always knew what to look out for.

She also always knew what helped. 

Gently as a mother could, she pulled him into a warm embrace.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t.. I just… I… I thought…” His voice cracked and broke.

“Shh... just take a second and breathe.”

Franny began to sing quietly, the same way she did when he was little. 

When Petunia first abandoned him. 

 As she sang, he closed his eyes and listened, calming down enough to understand that he was safe, and that nobody was going to hurt him. Not here. By the time the song had finished, he was doing much better. Franny’s music could help anyone in times of need.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were somebody else. There were some men that tried to kidnap me. If it wasn't for Buster and Uncle Art, I don't know where I'd be right now. Usually I can bounce right back from situations, but for whatever reason this one just really got to me. I just… yeah.”

Franny’s eyes widened. “Wait, hang on. Someone tried to kidnap you?! Who?!”

“I don’t know who they were. Some men creeping through an alleyway. Their faces were just… so creepy. I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Franny felt like her heart fell through the floor. Her brothers. Her family. Cornelius.

Someone’s trying to hunt them down.

------

Check out the chapter on my Archive!

[age-of-greta]

The Moon

The Moon represents illusion and deception, and therefore often suggests a time when something is not as it appears to be. Perhaps a misunderstanding on your part, or a truth you cannot admit to yourself.

Author’s note: hi!! welcome back to The Moon! No posting schedule, but all parts will be posted on Wednesdays at midnight EST. This chapter is… whew! Just enjoy!!

Parings: Sam x reader & Jake x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, sexual content, smut, minors DNI

Word count: 3.6k

PART 9:

Things were weird.

Not necessarily in a bad way, just strange.

It had been about two weeks since the camping trip and you and Sam had naturally escalated your relationship- if you could call it that. You two were together anytime that the both of you were free. In fact Margo had become incredibly suspicious that something was going on with a guy, but you denied. Sam stayed over at your place a few times, but you didn’t stay at his. You two had kissed, a lot, and he even stayed in the same bed as you. But that was all that had occurred. You were increasingly cautious for obvious reasons, but Sam never pushed you or made you feel uncomfortable. He was content to kiss you and hold you while you binged whatever shows or movies. It never felt awkward or forced, but it was still something that you couldn’t articulate.

You were expecting Sam at any moment now. He told you he would be right over as soon as their session ended. You had fixed yourself up, eager to see him. When you heard that knock on your door you felt a bit giddy inside.

“Hey pretty lady, can I come in?” Sam says, greeting you with a smile.

You smile back. “Of course you can.”

“So I was thinking.” Sam states, following you into your living room.

You snicker. “Uh-oh. That’s a dangerous thing.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I would like to take you on a proper date. I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that idea.”

“Great- go get ready?”

Your face twists up in mild shock. “Now?”

Sam chuckles. “Yes, now. I’ll sit here and wait as long as you need.”

“What’s the attire?” You ask.

“Something comfortable. I promise I’ll take you somewhere fancy in the morning, but tonight just wear something you’re comfortable in.”

**

You ended up going with light wash jeans with ripped knees, a white tank crop top, a pair of nude platform sandals, and a lot of gold jewelry. You put a few curls in your hair, added a fair amount of makeup, and spritzed yourself down in perfume. It had taken about 40 minutes, but Sam waited patiently the whole time.

“Okay, I think I’m ready.” You say, stepping out of your room.

Sam stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “You look beautiful, as always.”

You approached him with a smile. “Thank you.”

Sam tilts your chin up and gives you a sweet kiss. “Ready?”

“Let’s go Sammy.”

**

You couldn’t contain your elation when Sam pulled up outside of Dave & Busters.

“Sam! Oh my god. This already is going to be the best date I’ve ever been on.” You say with a laugh.

“I’m actually really glad you said that. I was a little nervous that maybe you might think it was cheesy or something.” Sam says.

You shake your head. “Not at all. It’s perfect.”

Then you two head inside and grab a table. You got a round of beers, mozzarella sticks, and two salads.

“These are the best mozzarella sticks I think I’ve ever had.” Sam says, breaking one apart to reveal the cheese pull.

You laughed. “I’m glad you enjoy them. They are good. But they’re definitely the frozen ones that they’ve stuck in a fryer.”

“The art of American food.” Sam says with a smirk.

“What a fine art it is. I hope you’re ready to get destroyed in skee ball by the way.” You say, stabbing your lettuce.

Sam’s face lights up at that. “Oh you’re on babe.”

That was the first time Sam had really used that word or any of it's kind with you. That made your stomach feel excited.

Once you two had finished up, you made your way to the game room. Sam got a card with a considerable amount of money on it. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? I don’t play around here Birdie.” He said with a smile. “Now take me to the skee ball games.”

**

“You fucker!” You yell with a laugh.

Sam smiles with pride. “I’ll take my crown now.”

You two had just finished an intense session of skee ball and Sam had won on a last lucky shot in the 1000 hole.

“You know what, I submit. Good game.” You say extending your hand out.

“Aw what a good sport. C’mere.” Sam says, pulling you into a hug. “Anything else you want me to beat your ass in?”

You break the hug. “Okay Mr. Cocky! Consider the good sport gone. This is war now.”

Sam belts out laughter at that. “No no. I wave the white flag. Let’s work together so we can get some tootsie rolls in the prize shop.”

You bat your eyelashes. “Oh wow Sammy. Tootsie rolls just for me?”

Sam smirks. “You bet baby. If you keep on batting your eyes like that I’ll buy you the whole damn company.”

You shake your head and laugh. “Come on, let’s find the games with the most tickets.”

**

You were giddy. You felt butterflies and you also had a few tequila sodas. You were leaving with a bag full of goodies and your hand in Sam’s hand. Truthfully this had been such a fun “first” date. It was pure fun and most importantly you got to be yourself. You got to laugh with Sam, joke with Sam, and look at Sam. Everyday you felt yourself growing closer and closer to him. But after today you felt your heart swell in a way you had never before.

“Let me get the door for you my lady.” Sam says, opening his car door for you.

“Why thank you good sir.” You say, climbing in.

Sam took the bag of prizes and put it in the backseat, then climbed in the driver’s side.

“Ready?” He asked as he cranked the car.

You smile at him blissfully. “Thank you for taking me. I had the best time.”

Sam grins ear to ear at that. “Thank you for coming with me.” He tucks a small piece of hair behind your ear. “Birdie, you’re so beautiful. I mean that in every way.”

You start to feel a bit bashful and bite your lip. “I think you are too Sammy.”

“Can I kiss you?” Sam asks, softly.

You nod.

Then his warm lips are on you. Your hand moves over to his chest while he grips your face and your hip. Fuck.

You felt a little bold so you parted your lips and slightly slipped your tongue in his mouth. You were greeted with his own and felt a squeeze on your hip. Things were getting very heated, but you realized you were still in a parking lot. You slowly pulled away.

“Take me home?”

Sam cleared his throat a little and nodded fastly.

The whole entire way back to your cottage Sam had a grip on your upper thigh. Periodically lightly squeezing and rubbing you. That was all the edging you could take. You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you both got inside and that lit fireworks inside of you. The anticipation sat like a lump in your throat.

When he finally pulled in it felt like it had been a million years. You both got out and Sam laced his fingers with yours. You fumbled with your keys and unlocked your door. Why did you feel nervous? It was Sam. Then it dawned on you. It was Sam. You never thought you would cross any threshold with him, but now you wanted to- badly.

As soon as you got inside you wrapped your arms around his neck and the kissing ensued. It was way more aggressive than the normal soft kisses. Sam’s hands were planted firmly on your hips, but when you lightly bit his lip he groaned a little and shifted his hands towards your ass. That ignited a fire in you and you wanted more. You shuffled towards your room and shut the door, then your lips were on his again. You kicked off your shoes and started to slip off his shirt. Once his shirt was off he looked down at you, trying to read you.

“Are you sure you want to-“ he starts.

You look up at him and bite your lip. “I want you to fuck me.”

Sam’s mouth falls agape slightly at that. He’s absolutely flabbergasted at either what you just said or how you just said it. You see him take a sharp inhale before he says. “Yes ma’am.”

Then his hands are all over you. Before you know it you were both stripped down to your undergarments. Sam’s lips traveled down to your neck as you laid down on your bed. You let out slightly moans when his teeth would graze your collarbone. Sam continued his descent. While his hands rubbed around your waist. He licked a hot stripe down your stomach which caused you to shudder. Then he spent at least five minutes teasing you. He rubbed your upper thighs, kissed them, quickly ran his thumb over your clothed center. You were squirming each time, but tried to keep your composure.

“You’re so beautiful.” Sam said in between kisses as he slid your panties down.

You arched your back slightly as your breath hitched.

Sam takes his fingers and lightly begins rubbing them over your clit while still kissing your thighs.

Soft moans slip past your lips and they frequent more often when Sam’s lips meet your center. His fingers dip into you while his mouth is focused on your sweet spot.

“Fuck.” You say softly before a deep inhale.

Sam hums at you which brings a different sensation. After a few minutes of bliss you feel yourself beginning to shake and Sam can too.

“Sam- I’m gonna- fuck.” You squeaked out.

“I know baby I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. Such a good girl.” Sam coos.

That was all you needed before that wave of pleasure washed over you. It was euphoric as you screwed your eyes shut and rode out your orgasm.

When you came back to your senses Sam was still right there. Kissing you through everything. He came up and lightly kissed your lips a few times. It was so tenderly sweet. Which is something that was unexpected at first. The passion. Sam is itching for release of his own, but he’s still going as slowly as he was before. You grab Sam’s bare back and lightly scratch at it, giving him the okay that he can fuck you now.

“Do I need a condom?” He asks, lightly.

You shake your head. “Birth control.”

He kisses you again then slips into you and groans out- as do you. He gets a nice rhythm going, but you want him to have more. He had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life and it was time to put in the same effort. In a swift motion you switched him off of you and climbed onto him. You sank down on him and used your hand to brace yourself on his chest.

“Goddamn.” Sam said with a moan.

One of his hands was guiding your back while the other slipped up around your stomach and breasts. He was mesmerized watching you lightly rock yourself on him. His eyes never left you, it was intense. But god it was so hot. You had never felt sexier than in this moment. You began to build momentum and your movements became faster. Sam was coming undone and his hips were bucking back into you. His hands were now both wrapped about your hips keeping you locked into place. Moans were coming out of your mouth and Sam’s.

“I’m not going to last much longer, baby. Fuck you feel so fucking good.” Sam said, an octave higher than normal.

That caused you to squeeze around him and moan. “Sammy- right there- don’t stop.”

Calling him that in this situation lit a fire that you could see. He was holding back the floodgates at this point, but he was determined to make you come again.

“Right there baby? How’s that feel?” He cooed.

You were there.

“Yes fuck Sammy. Sammy-“ You moaned as your body locked up. He was right behind you. His mouth fell open as moans fell out. You tightened around him and felt his release. He squeezed your hips tightly and your head fell back. Sweat, expletives, and sex filled the air.

When you gained consciousness again, you slipped down onto him. You hadn’t realized it, but his legs were shaking. Sam pulled you into his side and stroked your hair while you both tried to breathe regularly again.

“Shower?” You finally said looking up at Sam.

He smiled warmly at you and kissed your head before nodding.

Then he fucked you again in the shower.

**

You awoke the next morning barely clothed, wrapped in Sam’s arms. You were so giddy reminiscing on the night before, you felt like you could vomit rainbows. Sam was still sleeping, so you quietly slipped out of bed. You went to your bathroom and took in your appearance. You had purplish love bites over your collarbones and a few on your breasts. You traced them and it felt electric. You couldn’t help but smile. You were smitten. You freshened up and slapped on some light makeup and touched up your hair. Then made way to your kitchen to make you and Sam coffee. Shortly after you felt arms wrap around from behind you and a kiss placed on your neck. You melted into his touch.

“Good morning.” He purred into your ear.

“Good morning Sammy.” You responded cheerfully.

You turned around and planted a kiss on his lips, he tasted like mint toothpaste. He had freshened up for you too.

“Can I take you to breakfast?” He asked.

“Hmm I was just making us coffee. But I suppose that would be alright.”

Sam smirked at you. “Finish making your coffee love. I’ll wait.”

He looked so damn good in the mornings. It gave you an idea that waking up like this everyday wouldn’t be so bad.

**

Sam led you down the streets of Nashville with your fingers intertwined with his. He made good on his promise and brought you somewhere fancy. It was a cute brunch spot. You wore a blue and white floral dress with puffy sleeves and white heels. Sam told you how pretty you looked at least a dozen times. You two sat outside and soaked up sunshine while smiling at one another.

“Can I be candid with you Birdie?” Sam asks.

You nod your head. “Of course.”

He smacks his lips together. “I really like you. I mean really like you. I would like to explore this further, if that’s okay with you.”

You smile at him. “I like you too. What does exploring further look like to you?”

He pauses for a moment. “I want to date you, exclusively you.”

“Okay, yes exclusively.” You say back softly with a smile.

He grins ear to ear and then the waiter comes up and takes your orders. You felt content just staring at Sam all day. Being near him felt like being near sunshine- he made you warm and happy. When you were with him it was impossible to think of anyone else. Truthfully he had snuck up on you. But you were so glad that he did.

After brunch Sam took you to an early movie before dropping you off back at your apartment. He had a recording session this afternoon and you wanted to clean your apartment. Before you parted ways he walked you up to your doorstep and kissed you, then made plans to see you later.

You walked inside and smiled, standing with your back planted at your door.

“Um, what the actual fuck?”

You jumped out of your skin when you saw Margo sitting slack jawed on your couch.

“Oh fuck! Margo! You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!” You exclaimed.

She jumped up. “I broke in with my spare key because I wanted to surprise you with smoothies, but then you weren’t here. I started to leave but then I heard voices outside and then I saw it with my own eyes. Sam? Sam?”

You bite down on your cheek. You hadn’t told anyone about you and Sam yet. “Yeah, well it’s new.”

“Sam? I swear to God I thought it was going to be you and Jake. I knew you were sneaking around with someone and I thought it was Jake. But Sam? What?”

You flinch at his name. He hadn’t been in your mind in a while. “I know it might seem strange. But Sam and I have been spending a lot of time together this summer. I really like him Margo.”

She looks at you for a minute. “I can see that and I’m happy for you. But why didn’t you tell me?”

You huff. “Honestly, it snuck up on me. I didn’t anticipate it- it just happened.”

Margo laughed. “Well good for you. Based on how you’re acting, he fucked your brains out didn’t he?”

You gasp and laugh at the same time. “Shut up.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Okay enough! Can we have our smoothies and you catch me up on you while I clean?” You ask.

“Smooth at changing the subject. But yes I’ll accept because I'm a narcissist.” She jokes.

That was one person down who knows about you and Sam, only the whole world to go.

**

“Coming!” You yelled, throwing down your oven mitts. You fluffed your hair before approaching the door.

It had been a few days since your “exclusively” conversation and you two had been inseparable. He had stayed with you almost every night and he would leave in the mornings so you could work. Then usually return around dinner time.

Currently, you were cooking dinner for you and Sam. Tofu vegetable stir-fry. You had insisted on this because Sam has given you grief about the taste of tofu. You were excited to prove him wrong, but more excited just to see him. You beamed a smile when you opened the door, but it wasn’t Sam.

“Hey stranger.” Danny said, stepping inside.

You made a face, but fixed it fast. “Hi Danny, come on in.” You say sarcastically.

He chuckled. “Thank you. You don’t look too excited to see me, cousin.”

You shake your head. “It’s always a pleasure to be in your company. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh come on. How many times have I just showed up unannounced?”

You shrug. “Fair.”

“I came with a purpose today however. I wanted to come by and invite you to the Fourth of July party this Saturday. It’s at our house collectively, but it’s really Josh and I throwing it. When I say Josh, I mean he’s in control of the fireworks and alcohol.”

You scoff a laugh. “Fireworks and alcohol. Fantastic, I'll be there.”

Danny walks past your kitchen and stops. “Smells good. You’re cooking?”

You hum in response.

“Birdie, are you expecting someone?” He asks, suspiciously.

You felt tongue tied and began to feel a little frantic. Sam would be here at any moment.

“Yeah- I uh-“ You started.

Danny lets out a loud laugh. “Hey I’m just fucking with you. I know Sam is probably on his way.”

You furrow your brows and cross your arms. “He told you?”

Danny shakes his head. “No, but it wasn’t hard to put together. Sam has been very absent lately, so have you. I knew you two had become close, but when I saw the way you guys interacted on the camping trip I got suspicious.” He laughs a little. “Then you’ve got Sam showing up to sessions giddy as hell, leaving sessions and not coming home, and I’m the only one who notices.”

You decided to stay quiet and plead the fifth.

“Y’know it’s funny.” Danny states smirking at himself.

“What?” You question.

“Well growing up Sam always had the biggest crush on you. I mean the biggest crush on you. But he never said anything because we always thought you would end up with Jake. It’s just funny how things turn out.”

That made your heart flutter. Sam had been crushing on you your whole childhood, but you never noticed.

Your attention diverts to your door when you hear a knock. Shit, he’s here.

You open the door and there he stands as pretty as ever, but with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He leans in to kiss you as you melt into him. But as soon as that moment flees, you’re hyper aware that Danny is there.

“Hi babe. It smells fantastic in here. These are for you.” He says with a cheery smile extending the flowers to you as he walks inside.

“Um- Sam.” You say, but then he walks in more and freezes when he sees Danny.

Danny is standing there with the biggest smirk on his face. “Nice flowers Sam!”

Sam turns to look at you and you just shrug awkwardly.

“Well, shit. This isn’t how I wanted you guys to find out.” Sam says, breaking the silence.

Danny laughs. “No no. It’s just me. Listen, can we just skip all of the weirdness? I miss hanging out with you guys. I guess I’ll just have to third wheel it now.”

“Sounds good to me. Come make your plate.” You say heading to your kitchen to put your flowers in a vase.

Danny and Sam say a few words to each other and laugh, but you can’t hear it. Then they’re in the kitchen with you.

“Oh god. Fucking tofu Birdie?” Danny exclaims.

Sam chuckles. “Right?”

That now made two people that knew about you and Sam.

**

• thank you for reading :)

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @eclecticwildflowers, @illiana-mystery

Warnings: swearing, blood, injuries

AN: I’m assuming hardly anyone knows this movie but it’s called renegades with kiefer sutherland and Lou diamond phillips and considering my weekend I’m writing this now.

I sat on the couch next to hank. Buster was late and I was growing more and more nervous. My leg was bouncing, the only outlet I could think of for my energy.

“he’ll be here (Y/N).” Hank assured me, putting a hand on my knee. I hung my head and nodded.

“I know. I know.” I sighed, looking over at him. “Just buster was on me to make sure my schedule was clear since you were coming to visit and then he goes and does this.” I waved my hand at the door.

“He’s a cop (Y/N).” Hank laughed. “You know he’s on call whenever. Buster will be here.” I nodded again and got up.

“want something to drink?” I asked, wringing my hands. I had to do something and this was the best I could do. The door opened at that moment and hank stood up. Buster looked at us and gave me a small smile.

“hi. Sorry I’m late.” He kicked the door closed with his foot. That was when I noticed his hand on his side.

“what did you do buster?” Hank asked with a sigh. “What did you do?” Buster gave me a small smile and shrugged.

“brought a gun to a knife fight.” He tried to joke, his hand pulling away slightly. His palm was red with blood and I shook my head, holding out my arm to usher him towards the bathroom.

“and you lost?” I asked, shaking my head at him as he took the hint and started walking.

“how dumb are you?” Hank added as he sat back down on the couch. Buster opened his mouth but I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the bathroom.

“answer that and I’ll make you go to the hospital instead.” I threatened. “And you know they’ll call someone from the precinct to come check up on you. And I don’t think you want that.” Buster shook his head as he carefully peeled off his jacket and flannel shirt.

“yeah. You have a point.” He grumbled as he sat down on the bathtub. I went through the closet to find the first aid kit. Opening it up, I went to work.

“It isn’t that bad actually.” I murmured as I set about cleaning up the blood. “So a gun to a knife fight and you lost.” My eyes flickered up to buster.

“yeah.” He sighed. “I wasn’t paying attention and the cops were coming and I panicked.” I nodded as I bandaged his arm.

“well you’re all set.” I sighed as I threw away all the garbage and put the kit back. Moving between busters legs, I cupped his cheeks. “You know I worry about you. And I know what you’re going to say. That you’re a cop you have this handled. But I still do.” Buster smiled up at me and kissed my palm. “I love you buster.” I whispered as I leaned down to kiss him. Buster hummed against my lips before standing up. Breaking the kiss, he smiled at me.

“and now we just have to survive dinner with hank.” He teased. I rolled my eyes.

“you have to survive it.” I shot back. Buster grimaced. “I get along with hank just fine.”

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Chapter 40: Hopes

We’ve made it to 40 chapters! I can’t believe all the love and support Heat has received. For the special occasion, I made a moodboard in honor of what’s being affectionately dubbed ‘Narcos: Puerto Rico’ ☺️

And now, for the big showdown you’ve all been waiting for~!

🚨**There’s a big reveal in this chapter!**🚨

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: 20,000+

Summary: The confrontation months in the making is foisted upon you. Will there be anything left to salvage after?

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions oral (f receiving) and of unprotected sex. Mentions of diet and food habits, exercise routines, angst, past trauma, resentful anger, physical acting out and emotional turmoil. Allusions to toxic behavior, negative coping mechanisms, recurring relationship tropes, sexual frustration and judgment. Harsh!OFC, Remorseful!Javi, Needy!Javi, and Angry!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 39: Longing

Chapter 40: Hopes

Needless to say, your morning is highjacked by the news of Javier's portentous return, and you end up spending what little time you have before the big meeting briefing Devon on everything.

As you disclose to him what conflict of interest you have in dealing with the newly appointed DEA SAC, the usually congenial, kilowatt-smile having, six-foot-four teddy bear of a man looks the most serious you've ever seen him.

"Um…no disrespect, but everyone in the embassy heard about you two, and it sort of got around far beyond there, so I think the conflict of interest might be the least of your worries," Devon tells you and fidgets nervously in his seat.

With a forlorn sigh, you nod, and retort, "Which is why I'll need some time to think about what this will mean professionally for my post here. That's why I'm hoping in the interim, you could be the liaison with the DEA during any occasions where we'd have to interface directly with the SAC—"

"I don't think he likes me very much, though," he apprehensively grumbles, expression etching with tension at the prospect of having to be in Javier Peña's crosshairs.

Primly, you fold your hands over the desk, and muse, "Trust me, Devon. Javier Peña has no issue with you, or Noreen. Frankly, he'd be a hypocrite, and by that same token…so would I."

Frowning, Devon shakes his head. "I don't believe that. No one does. But he's intense and he unnerves me," is his honest retort, and you smile so brightly at that, that he hedges, "I mean, I'll do whatever you need me to!"

"I know you will. And he'll be on his best behavior with you. I'm sure of it," you tell him, thinking to yourself: Because if he isn't, I'll boil him alive—

"Good. I'll go and get everything ready for us then," Devon remarks before getting up and hustling to his meeting prep.

Sighing, you decide you need to break your coffee fast to get through the day, so you go downstairs to the on-site cafeteria to get some brewed courage to forge on.

You don't expect to walk out towards the main corridor and almost jump at the boisterous call of your name.

Turning, you scoff and shake your head amusedly when you spot the two swaggering partners coming over to greet you.

"Well, well, well – Nic Lopez and Shay Duffy. What're you two degenerates doing here?" you ironically chime as you smile at each and put your hand on your hip when you quirk your brow irreverently at them.

"Still a ball-buster, eh?" Agent Duffy snickers as he gives you a platonic kiss on the cheek hello.

"Of course," you singsong as you kiss Agent Lopez on the cheek, quipping, "Nice to see you two can't quit each other."

"Trust me, I've tried," Duffy jibes, earning a friendly punch on the shoulder from Lopez.

"Well, I'm glad you guys will keep busy here," you remark and sip your coffee.

"That's what we hear," Lopez remarks before checking his watch. "Shit, we gotta go report in. It was great seeing you again—"

"Yeah, and we'll be sure to report in to tech duty soon, sass-master!" Duffy cuts in brashly before shaking Lopez on the shoulder to tow him away comically. "See yah around!"

You chuckle and wave them off before resuming your return to your department's floor.

Meanwhile, Javi is rushing through his morning routine in the new space, pulling on his tie and working it around his shirt collar as he shoves his sock-clad feet into the nice and polished leather loafers that matched his dark brown belt. The bedroom was cluttered with his moving boxes and luggage, so he maneuvered around the chaos to sprint out to the living room and grab his wallet from the coffee table.

The sound of a car horn blaring out front in his narrow open-air marquesina had him growling as he rushed to grab his keys and other contraband he needed to pocket onto his person before snagging his light gray blazer and shrugging it on as he hustles to the front door.

Laying on the horn for good measure, Steve barks out of the open driver's window, "We're gonna be late, Jav!"

"Fucking hell, I'm locking up!" he shouts over his shoulder as he figures out the keys for the deadbolt locks to his front door and pats his person to make sure he didn't forget anything. "Keys, phone, wallet…shit. Hold on, I forgot my badge!"

Groaning, Steve drags his palm down his features impatiently while Javier unlocks the door and hurries back into the house. "Idiot. He's a completely flustered idiot…"

A few minutes later, and Javi is rushing around to the passenger's side and jumping in.

"So, this meeting'll be all the department heads, and their assistants. I haven't got an ASAC yet, and yours doesn't come in until Monday, so it'll be you and me reppin' today," Steve is telling him as he drives out of the neighborhood a few minutes later after he lets Javi get unflustered.

Javier is thankful for the distraction of hearing all the procedural crap that'll be taking up his first day. It stops his mind from panicking on what will happen when he sees you for the first time since he'd made a fucking ass out of himself on your doorstep.

"—It's standard protocol for each of us to have a driver. We'll be meeting 'em after the inter-agency thing. They're both newly-minted rookies from the Hato Rey barracks. While they haven't seen much action as cops, they know the island like the back of their hand, so one less hassle – trying to figure out our ways around," Steve is telling him as he makes it through the metropolitan traffic and onto La Avenida Chardón where the U.S. Courthouse and Federal building are.

It's an impressive campus from the avenue. Security is tight, but not as imposing as it'd been at the embassy in Colombia, and there was a mix of civilians, local and federal officials milling through the different buildings that flanked each other on the sprawling flat terrain. The U.S. courthouse was the bigger of the buildings, standing front and center. The FBI and ATF had their offices on floors near the top of the building. On the left of the courthouse was the newer Federal building that housed DOS and DOJ operations offices. It looked like a gleaming bar thanks to all the windows and the bright early afternoon sun glinting off the glass.

After a stop at the security office, Javier got his credentials for accessing the campus and several restricted areas of the building, and Steve murmured the lay of the land as they headed through the sleek lobby towards the interior corridors. For now, the DEA would be operating on the second to last floor of the building until their field office near San Patricio Plaza was ready for them.

Once they were in the elevator, Steve turned to Javier, and with a gesture towards the button to the last floor up, he'd given him a look that communicated, 'This is the floor she's on.'

His heart skipped a beat despite himself.

As they were getting off the elevator onto their floor, Steve was telling Javi about the other agency heads he'd already met.

"—ATF is cool. The guy has a lot of experience working dual-ops. FBI guy is another story," he mutters as they get to their department's entry. "Oh, and yes – everyone knows."

Javi doesn't even need to ask.

Spencer had all but crowed interestedly about how it was pretty common knowledge the last time he'd met with him, and told him not to be shy about using it to his advantage if he had to. It had made Javi's skin crawl, and if that's how he'd felt, he could only imagine how you felt about it.

After settling into his office, Javi and Steve met with most of the staff in the conference room. Everyone seemed eager, but experienced, so he felt at ease about that.

But when he and Steve finally went up to the big conference space where the inter-agency meeting would take place, he could feel all the looks sear into him.

Everyone in the room made it a point to introduce themselves, though, and the smug smiles and compliments did nothing to soften the recrimination that hung in the air.

However, when it was a minute until the meeting was due to start, Devon, Ellis, his deputy Kelsey, and you, walked in, and the tension in the air shifted.

After all, everyone else in that room knew what happened to Bill Stechner, and were not about to make an enemy out of you.

Watching you as you're politely greeting the officials sitting nearest you and Ellis, Javi holds his breath in anticipation of your gaze scanning across the long conference table to land on him.

You never look his way. Instead, you sit on the far end with Ellis, while Devon and Kelsey sit in the seats along the wall to take notes.

Once the CED comes in and kicks off the meeting, you are stoic and poised while introductions are made around the table. When it's Javier's turn to be introduced, you busily review something in your leather organizer. And when it's time for your introduction, you politely smile to the chief before nodding along to his comment about working seamlessly at an operational level throughout all departments.

You can feel Javier's gaze on you.

It boils your blood to be this close to him after so long, and not be able to jump up on the conference table and run at him in order to drop kick him into the carpet.

Still, even with your wrath seething on a slow burn, you'd appraised his appearance quickly when you'd entered the room.

His hair was longer than you'd seen it last, wisps begging for a finger-combing at his temples and at his sideburns. His clean-shaven face looked a lot more chiseled now, too, moustache perfectly trimmed as always, and shoulders broad as ever, but torso exuding even more definition under the better-fitting light gray suit blazer than you remember. Even his posture looked different, while his eyes were still those deep chocolate pools that gleamed chestnut under the sunny afternoon rays coming in from the windows. His collar was wrinkle-free, gold-and-blue jacquard tie straight and neat over his crisp shirt placket. You couldn't help noticing how even the top button of his collar was done, making it obvious how much effort he was putting into his appearance.

The last thing you wanted to do was sit there, itemizing all the ways he looked so fucking good, however.

So, annoyed, you'd kept your gaze from crossing his side of the conference room.

Mercifully, though, the meeting was more about pomp and circumstance this time around rather than real status updates, so once the chief thanks everyone, you're collecting your organizer and making a beeline for the door.

Glowering, Javier can't help feel disappointed. What did you expect, though?! She is in no way going to give you the time of day here…

"Agent Peña, Agent Murphy. You probably don't remember me, but—"

Snapping out of his internal admonishment, Javi acknowledges your deputy with a curt nod and drawls, "Sure I do." When the tall younger man blinks nervously, Javi outstretches his hand for a firm shake. It seems to relieve any awkwardness the other man had instantly, so Javi introduces, "Steve, this is Devon Williams. He used to work at the embassy in Bogotá too."

"Oh, that's great. Nice to meet you," Steve remarks as he shakes Devon's hand next.

"A pleasure," Devon remarks before detailing, "So, I know both your ASACs aren't in yet, so in the meantime, I wanted to let you both know I can set up any status reports you may need, and will be your point person on anything dealing with DIO's division."

As Javi and Steve chat with Devon – who also introduces them both to the deputy of the Telecommunications department, Kelsey Tate, you and Ellis were making a break for the elevator when the hot-shot FBI Special Agent in Charge called out to you from the wide corridor the conference room led out to.

"Shit, want me to wait?" Ellis whispers to you as the elevator doors slide open.

"No, it's fine," you sigh before quickly confirming, "So, pick me up at my place around 6 tonight?"

"Sure thing! See yah then," he chimes as he gets in the elevator, then presses a button to the floor his next meeting is on before drawling, "Good luck."

Politely and prim, you turn to wait for Anthony Bozzi to come over to you. The man was built like a strapping boxer, confidence hung like a winner's wreath around his strong shoulders, and his roguish features always had a bullish etch to them. They were chiseled and framed by his dark neatly-shaped beard. His thick hair was tamed back with gel, and his swaggering gait always gave you a Don Johnson vibe.

"What can I do for you, Agent Bozzi?" you chime professionally as he swaggers up and shoves his hands into his crisp-pleated black slacks.

"Ah, c'mon. Call me Tony," he huffs in his steely baritone with a charming smile before grousing, "I just wanted to thank you for getting Brenda sorted on that stuff."

"Oh, no need. I'm happy to help," you tell him, sensing this was just a ploy to strike up a conversation with you, so you begin to excuse yourself with, "Anyway, I won't keep you—"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you one more thing. Pardon my being nosy, and all," he cuts in, and at his prefacing, you begin to wonder if he'll have the audacity to say out loud what everyone in the building already knows. "But is it true your father is a Vice Admiral in the Navy?"

Totally having expected a different question, you sober and nod. With a wry smile, you confirm, "That's true."

While he goes on to tell you about how his own father had served in the Navy, you don't know that Javier is watching on from down the corridor.

"You should've called her, man."

Glaring over at Steve, who'd loped up next to him to impart that musing drawl, Javi mutters, "Who's that asshole again?"

Shaking his head amusedly, Steve retorts matter-of-factly, "That's Tony Bozzi, the Special Agent in Charge for the FBI. Don't let his friendly charm fool you. I hear he's a cutthroat motherfuck—"

"See you fellas at the party tonight!" the chief calls out as he swivels around them and gives a bossy salute as he goes.

"Party?" Javi mumbles and quirks a brow at Steve.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot to mention there's a 'Get to know each other and don't be hostile' happy hour thing at one of the nicer hotels later tonight," Steve responds, going on to suggest they drive over together.

But Javier's already stopped listening as he looks back at the elevator foyer that you'd been standing at to find you've already left.

Luckily for your temper, the rest of your day is so busy that you have no chance to seethe about Javier.

Devon told you how nice he and Steve were during your end of week debrief, so your rancor subsides, slightly.

By the time you're parking in your condo building's secure lot, you are wishing you could skip the happy hour, but know it'll only bring more unneeded attention. Taking the elevator instead of the stairs, you walk down to your corner, north-facing unit's door and unlock it tiredly.

You really love your apartment.

It has become your haven after all these months, and you find yourself lingering in the open-floor-plan space of your living room and kitchen as you divest of your purse while you click the answering machine to recite through any missed messages. The machine robotically announces the first message, and the time it was received.

"—Mija, I'm back from D.C. I'd like to see you. Maybe you can come over for dinner one of these nights? Give me a call back, as soon as you can."

Your father's voice makes you groan as you march down the hall to strip out of your work clothes and get ready for a quick shower. As you're tossing your blouse into the hamper, the machine announces the next message.

"—Nena, me and the girls are going to La Placita de Santurce tomorrow night. Wanted to see if you were up for going! Llámame."

Making a mental note to call Zoraida back in the morning, you're about to hop in the shower when you hear the machine announce there was one more message.

There's only dead air, as if the caller was mustering the courage to leave a message, before abruptly hanging up. The machine droned its end of message tone.

Huh, that's weird. You continue to undress, and once you're in the shower, your mind wonders, What if that was Javi calling?

Instantly livid, you rushed through the routine. By the time you reined in your temper, you wondered if it even could've been him. After all, you're pretty sure you'd only given Steve your cell phone number.

Discarding further thought about the matter, you went to your closet and picked out the outfit you'd been thinking about wearing. At first, you'd thought it might've not been appropriate for the happy hour, but after today? Oh, you'd make sure to look your best.

Meanwhile, as you got dolled up, Javier was pacing the corridor outside of the ritzy hotel ballroom.

The impulsive longing had him craving a double whiskey and a pack of cigarettes, but he'd be damned if he derailed months of gains for the fleeting taste of either numbing his senses.

No, he wanted desperately to be on his game when he finally managed to talk to you.

"Dude, you look like a creep, stalking up and down the hallway like this," Steve grouses at him when he comes back from the bar.

Grunting, he rubbed at the tension point between his brows as he muttered, "I feel like a fucking creep for being here…"

Frowning, Steve clapped his hand on his shoulder and nudged him along to enter the ballroom. "Listen, man. I don't think this is the best time or place for you to approach her," his partner is counseling as he directs Javi to the table he'd spotted as being the perfect exit out the terrace and swanky poolside bar. "Maybe just send her flowers or something?"

Javier can't help but snort gruffly as he drops into his seat, reminded of the last time he'd tried that maneuver. "Yeah, I don't think that'll work," he husks dryly as he sits back in his chair and stares around the glitzy room.

There's hors d'oeuvres set out along two banquet tables, appetizer nibbles consisting of an assortment of Puerto Rican fritters, and a bar on each side of the room that was serving only beer and wine. Clearly meant to be a networking happy hour, the room was filled with plenty of Federal building officials, as well as staff and executives from the Puerto Rico Federal Affairs Administration.

Twenty minutes into the thing, and after several meet and greets, Javier was anxious. Had he made a mistake by coming? Should he have just gotten your address somehow, gone there, and begged to talk to you before coming here? Should he wait and go there afterward? He didn't know what would be the best option, and the more he fretted, the more reticent he got.

While Steve struck up conversation with one of the ATF guys, Javi fanned his gaze over to where he'd noticed a couple of high-ranking officers from the Puerto Rican police force shaking hands with the CED and the FBI SAC he'd seen talking to you earlier. When he let his stare wander over to the entry to the ballroom from the hall, his eyes landed on you exchanging hellos with some of the officials from the public relations division.

His breath caught in his chest at seeing you in the killer white dress and patent leather nude pumps, hair full of volume and undulating in lovely waves that framed your face and cascaded down your back. Your rouged lips pulled into a chaste smile when you shook hands with what looked to be a comandante of the National Guard, and your lashes were curled in a way that it made your expressive eyes all the sultrier. It was all too much. He felt like he'd been hit by lighting and was now running several degrees hotter than normal.

And yeah, the fact he recognized that sinfully sexy Kathleen Turner-inspired dress from that damn movie only made his pulse race in his veins while heat pooled in his gut. Fuck…she's stunning.

He couldn't help fawn from afar. Not with how statuesque you looked in the timelessly sexy dress. The white of the delicate linen fabric accentuating your radiant complexion, the ivory satin buttons and the belt cinching your waist was a classy look, while the risqué-but-chic slit up the hem of the left thigh had several gazes lingering in your direction.

Of course, as usual, you seemed oblivious to it.

"Alright, kid. Just so you know, loverboy is sitting over by the terrace doors," Ellis is whispering into your ear now after he noticed Javier and Steve were present as he escorted you down to a table more towards the front of the room. "Whenever you're ready, say the word, and we're outta here."

Sighing, you sit and place your slim purse on the table so you can lean back in your chair and sip the sparkling wine you got from the nearest bar. "No, worst-case, I'll just grab a cab home—"

"Hey, signorina!"

You both turn to acknowledge Tony Bozzi as he appears to your right with a vodka soda in his hand as he takes a seat closest to you at the table-cloth-clad circular table.

"Agent Bozzi. Having a nice night?" you greet as he leans over to shake Ellis' hand.

"Hey, bud, would you tell her to just call me Tony?" he quips to Ellis.

"She's a stickler for keeping it professional, what can I say?" Ellis counters affably as he drinks his ginger ale.

"Booo, I'll just have to make her break her rules, then," Tony razzes before winking at you.

You peg him for being a brash guy who is putting on a more congenial veneer for your benefit, and you're not sure if that's because he's looking to be a get-over, a social climber, or something else.

While you all chit-chat about the people in the room, Javier caves at his need for liquid courage.

He goes out to the bar outside, and admires the melodic ebb and flow of the ocean just beyond the hotel's property while he's served a double whiskey, neat. Sure, it's helping quell his jealousy at seeing the barrel-chested, dark-haired and bearded man eye you like he was waiting for an in. But really, it's the burn of the alcohol incinerating his morose feelings that helps him not dwell on having to likely steal your affections away from some other guy and win your love again.

"There you are, Peña!"

Javi turns to see Ronald Mercer, the Chief Executive Director, approaching him.

"Evening, sir," he acknowledges before shaking hands with the man. "This is a much nicer setup than anything thrown at the embassy."

"I'm happy to hear. The Puerto Rican's are great hosts. Always friendly – and up for throwing nice parties," the man chuckles. "Listen, it's a big get to have you here. I was hoping you'd bear with me and let me introduce you to some of the officials from the Governor's administration? They're really keen on meeting the man who'll help them with their Mano Dura initiative."

Javier internally groans, but agrees to be the pet narco slayer – to be paraded to the officials, who fawn over what he did in Colombia and gush about being at his service if he were to need any help from the governor's office. He's heard it all before, of course, but he's charming and deferential, all while hoping he can maybe find a way over to where you're at, chatting with the people at your table.

But when the chief arranges an impromptu photo-op with the photographers that showed up from El Nuevo Día, Javi finds out too late in all the bustling about of the attendees in the room that he'd also corralled the other heads of departments to get in for one of the photos.

In the commotion of being roped over to the front of the ballroom, you didn't realize you would end up being just a couple of people away from standing next to Javier.

"Damas y caballeros," the photographer called out as he pantomimed for everyone to get in tighter for the shot. Swallowing all your acrimony so it wouldn't show in your stoic features, you stood tall and gave your best Mona Lisa smile while the man counted down before taking the photo. "Muy bien, y gracias a todos."

It was as your eyes readjusted after the camera's flash that you then smelled his spicy, warm musk as he sidled past the two officials who were chatting now while everyone else dispersed to return to the social networking around the room.

Before Javier could tap your shoulder, you walked off back to the table you'd been sitting at most of the night. Swearing under his breath, he was about to follow, when Steve signaled for him.

Once he crosses back to where his partner is, he gets pulled aside. "Hey, Connie just called me. She needs help getting the kids to bed," he tells him contritely. "You gonna be ok?"

"Yeah. I'll take a cab back to my place. Thanks," he assures Steve and pats him on the shoulder as they both head for the hall.

Agreeing to meet at Steve's the following afternoon so he could take Javi around the metropolitan area and point out places he'd already been briefed on, he gives him a hearty pat on the back and thanks him for all the help today.

Once he's seen Steve off from the impressive lobby of the hotel, he takes a beat to collect himself in the cool, air-conditioned space. Should he just give up? Call it a night and try again at some other point?

Frustrated, he scrubs his hand across his chin testily as he deliberates his options.

Figuring he at least needed to do another round in the room before he could leave when no one was looking, Javier turns to stroll back the way he came, when he looks over at the outdoor entry leading to the hotel's pool area and notices a silhouette of a white dress off in the distance, standing at the poolside bar.

Breathing a sigh of relief after being able to sneak away before Bozzi could try to circle back for another tedious conversation, you lean into the counter and smile pleasantly at the bartender while the soft breeze from the ocean caresses your dress and hair. Once he nods in acknowledgement, you gesture to a particular bottle of rum.

"Una Cuba libre, por favor," you're ordering, already retrieving the needed bills from your purse while the bartender makes your drink.

"Put it on my tab, please," a smooth baritone at your side instructs to the bartender in Spanish.

Your heart skips before your brain's able to fume at his fucking audacity.

Javier knows he's taking a risk. However, it seemed to be the best opportunity to approach you, thanks to the poolside bar being empty. So, he'd sidled up to the bar, downwind but next to you. Gaze guarded as he watched you order, and pining even more thanks to the sound of your melodious voice speaking Spanish. Not to mention from how the scent of your perfume on your warm skin heats his own blood. It's now or never.

But, before he is able to muster the words out loud to you – the ones that have been searing a hole in his chest for months, you snatch your purse up from the bar top, slap the bills you'd retrieved to pay for the drink down on the counter, and curtly order, "Please accept payment for the drink I ordered and nothing else."

Confused, the bartender tentatively places your drink down with a slow nod as you give him a pinched smile and snag the drink before turning to stalk away back to the ballroom.

Well, that went well. Annoyed with himself, he closes out his tab and stalks down to the terrace to enter the ballroom just in time to see you across the room back at your table.

Feeling exasperated, you chug your drink, daintily place it on the table, and give Ellis a clipped gesture indicating you were ready to leave.

"Shit, ok," Ellis croaks as he nods, and was on his feet by the time you rounded the table to exit via the hallway entry. He manages to gain on you when you turn towards the carport vestibule, and asks, "You sure you wanna leave like this, kid?"

"Like what?" you snap as you both exit the automatic sliding doors and head out towards the parking lot of the hotel.

"Like you're about to nuke a small city?" he tries to joke, but at your shoulders winding back imperiously, he amends, "Maybe it'd be better to just hash it out—"

"I have nothing to say to him."

"Ok, but maybe it would be good to hear him out so he can get it out of his system?"

"I don't care to," you hiss contumely at him, and Ellis' brows shoot up to his hairline, so you grumble, "Drop it, Ellis."

"C'mon, girlie. This isn't good for anybody—"

"I don't want to hear it, let alone deal with any of it—"

"Celina."

Pausing in your furious stride, you turn sidelong to stare guardedly at Javier.

With steel in his gait, Javi approached the short distance from the hotel's parking lot side entry, looking intent to speak to you while no one else is around out in the secluded lot from the main avenue beyond.

Having clearly seen you leave, he'd followed after as inconspicuously as possible, and had decided to gain on you both in the hopes that he could catch you before you left, but at seeing how speedily Ellis was trying to keep in step with your brisk stride, something in him had overridden his caution and spurred him to make his stand, here and now.

So, he unflinchingly walked over to you both until he was in front of you in the parking aisle nearest the barriers that overlooked the dark beach and ocean shore beyond.

His brown eyes were plaintive, and the overhead glare from the nearest lamppost cast him in a stark light.

Your eyes were blazing, expression a marble mask, but by the rigid set of your posture, he knew you were boiling over with barely-contained rancor.

Still, he just had to tell you.

"I know you're angry. I totally understand why you feel that way, and you have every right to be. I know there was so much left unsaid – not all of it great, but I need you to know that I meant everything I said to you that night," he rushes out in an impassioned baritone, hands at his sides clenching and unclenching nervously as he adds, "There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I haven't thought of you. That I haven't regretted how things were left between us. All I ever wanted was to make you happy – to protect you, but I failed and was too stupid to see I was just ruining what we had instead. I want to try to fix things – to win your trust back and prove to you that everything we planned was real. I still want everything with you, Celina. I love you—"

You slap him with all your furious might across his face.

The smack reverberates in the quiet, ocean-adjacent parking lot, and while your hand stings, it's not enough to chasten your pain as it has you unleashing in a vehement, exacting torrent, "You fucking manipulative bastard! How dare you say a fucking word to me after everything you've done, you son of a bitch?! 'I love you'?! You have the audacity to say such bullshit to me, after I haven't heard a fucking word from you in months?! It wasn't enough that you tore everything apart then?! What, you make it your mission to fucking drop back into my life out of the blue to make me feel like an insane, stupid idiot for ever believing a goddamned thing that ever came out of your fucking mouth?!"

Javier is stunned, the imprint of your palm scalding at his right cheek, eyes wide and woeful as he stands there, rendered mute.

You'd sensed Ellis flinch next to you with every venom-laced word you'd lobbed, and when you feel him gently touch your shoulder, you recoil away, withering gaze still fixed on your target and only becoming a wrathful glare now as you level Javier with, "Don't you ever come up to me again with any more of your puterías, you maldito mentiroso malparido!"

Then, clearly incensed and needing to get away before you hit true critical mass in your ire, you turn away and bark at Ellis, "I'm taking a taxi," before stalking away from them both.

In a state of shock and dismay, they watch you storm out of the parking lot to the bustling street traffic, where you flag a cabby down before getting into the backseat of the taxi to be driven away.

Completely nonplussed, Ellis turns back to look at Javi.

He sees a man torn asunder – utterly devastated by having hurt you so deeply than from having incurred your furious wrath.

"Shit…I, uh...you need a ride?" he finds himself asking while he fidgets in place.

When Javier just looks shellshocked and stares down at his feet, as if at a loss for what to do with himself, Ellis sighs as he taps his arm with the back of his hand before gesturing for him to follow as he rambles, "Alright, my car's over there. Just come with me before anybody comes out to see what the hell happened, or worse, that fucking Bozzi guy comes looking for her for a third damn time today."

Dazed, Javier follows, face flushed from suppressed emotion and pulse racing as his hearing gets fuzzy from how flustered, and utterly downtrodden he is, all at once.

It's an awkward drive out of the tourist district, to say the least.

Once Ellis manages to get Javi to tell him his address, and he is cruising on the highway for a quiet beat, though, he decides to throw the man a lifeline.

"Listen…she waited for you," he parcels out, careful with not speaking too much for you. At the stiff way Javier's shoulders press back into the seat, he sighs, confiding, "She never told me all the details. I was already gone by the time she decided to leave the embassy, but I heard her tell Anita she'd gone to your apartment, and when she found out you'd left, she held out hope that you'd come back. But, when you didn't…well, by then, she couldn't stay there, knowing what she knew."

His breath is ragged as he lets it out in a huff while he absorbs that.

Another heavy silence passes between them as Ellis drives on to take the exit into the downtown route shortest to get to Javier's gated neighborhood. He doesn't expect for the conversation to resume, and is about to reach for the volume dial on the radio to at least alleviate the tension with some music from the local classic rock station.

"I went back."

Hand returning to the wheel, Ellis glances over at Javier when he drags his palm down his face before cupping it over his mouth.

Shaking his head, he drops his hand listlessly in his lap, exhales, and unburdens himself with, "I went back, but she'd already moved out of her apartment – had quit and left the embassy, and it wasn't until I got back stateside that…anyway, I didn't know where she was, and no one I spoke to had her current contact info. It wasn't until a box with all my shit from her place got delivered that I knew for sure she was done with me…"

"She wasn't."

He turns to gawk at Ellis, who looks begrudgingly put out.

"Don't look at me that way, man!" he gripes as he turns off onto the avenue into the more residential area. "You think a woman would be that pissed if she didn't still care?"

Javi feels the ache behind his sternum subside as hope fills him up. Then he remembers how Steve had mentioned getting those missed calls back around the time you would've been leaving Colombia.

As if he can hear his loud thoughts, Ellis grouses, "She's a strong, fearsome one, and nothing made her angrier more than hearing what happened to you, and knowing that creep Stechner had been involved?" He grunts and scowls, pausing long enough for Javi to tell him the security code to engage the automatic gate to retract open since the guardhouse was vacant. Once he's driven through and let Javi gesture for the route he should take, he huffs a gruff sound. "Anyway…she wasn't done with you, and there was no way she wasn't going to eviscerate that guy for what he'd done," he pauses to shoot a sharp glare at Javi after he drives through the main entry to his neighborhood before turning down the block he'd indicated. Bitingly, he sneers, "Which, by the way, I'm super ticked off I had to find out via gossip what happened to her in Medellín."

Javier glowers. "She didn't want anyone to know—"

"I get her motives. Still…the fact that fucking prick had anything to do with it?! That he'd been harassing her the whole time? Did you know—?"

"I didn't until after. She had to talk me down from ripping that fucker's head off," he growls wrathfully.

Ellis grunts in agreement of the sentiment.

"Yeah, well…she always plays the long game."

At the flippant aside from the other man who was pulling onto the street his house was on, Javi's mind recalled something you'd said that had been a potential clue of that very assertion.

"…I have no qualms about making sure certain hostile forces get their comeuppance very soon…"

Astonished, he goes silent the rest of the drive that remained.

Meanwhile, you'd made it home much sooner, thanks to your condo building being just a relatively short drive from the tourist district of El Condado, and as soon as you paid the cab driver and exited the car, you'd keyed into the pedestrian gate and stomped your way through the frond-shaded-tropical-flower-festooned courtyard to enter the front lobby of the building. The night attendant greeted you pleasantly and informed you that your mailbox was full, so even in a snit, you'd thanked him, gone to your mailbox cubby, and unlocked it to retrieve the assorted bundle.

You were so angry still, though, that you took the long way up to your apartment, even though your muscles were still sore from the workout that morning, and your feet were killing you from the tall heels.

Ascending the stairs to the fourth story, you walked around from the south-facing side to traverse around the open-air walkway over to your doorway. The balmy night air sifting through the space did little to cool your ire – hand shaking as you opened your apartment door from the adrenalin rush of having blown your stack.

Once in your apartment, you locked the door, turned on the lamp by the side table where you drop your keys and mail onto, and stalk haughtily to your couch, where you sit and kick off your heels before cupping your hands to your forehead and lean forward to try breathing through your rage. So much for fucking de-stressing!

Your temples are throbbing, but after a few cleansing breaths, you manage to rein in your tempestuous anger and open your eyes to cast a tired glance about the perfectly cozy and appointed space before it lands on the little sideboard near the balcony doors, where you stored your booze away once you'd started your diet and alcohol fast.

Just as you get up from the sofa and begin to tiptoe along the cool tile floor towards it, your house phone starts ringing. Exhaling a groan, you turn and sprint to the narrow console table against the wall by the door where the cordless phone and answering machine sit.

Checking the caller ID, you grunt and answer the phone.

"Well, go ahead…tell me how immature and out of line I was," you grumble as you start to pace the space between your living room sofa and the console table.

"I'm not! I just wanted to make sure you got home alright," Ellis gripes, and you exhale, shoulders slumping as you hum.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, free hand absently combing through your hair as you keep pacing. "I just—I couldn't believe—ugh, never mind," is your growl before you center yourself and ask, "Were you able to get home right after without any more hassle?"

"Um…not right after, no. Actually heading to the house now," Ellis draws out, which makes you halt in your pacing. "I, uh, drove the poor bastard home…"

Outrage fizzles up quickly in you. "What?! Why?"

"Because! I felt bad for the guy, and he looked fucking miserable – the saddest, most heartbroken I've ever seen him, and I just couldn't skip away to my car and leave him in the parking lot looking like he was going to hop the barriers and walk into the ocean—"

The visual he's conjured is so pointed and harrowing that you feel a little lump catch in your throat.

"And anyway…I still think you two need to hash things out."

"Ellis," you grouse haughtily. "There's nothing to work out. N-Not…not after how I handled things tonight."

Your friend grunts neutrally before volunteering, "He was really broken up, kid."

Frowning, you idly wander the living room in a meandering loop as you murmur, "Not too broken up to have prevented it coming to this in the first place…"

There's a tense silence before Ellis sighs dramatically.

"He went back. But, by the time he got there, you'd already left."

Feeling like all your acrimony was doused and swept away with cold shock, you freeze and whisper, "He did…?"

"He poured his guts out, girlie. Really, I believe he didn't mean for things to have turned out the way they had. You guys just missed each other, like, literally – maybe by a couple of weeks—"

"Oh," you exhale in a reedy murmur, getting overcome.

Ellis seems to sense it, so, he aloofly informs, "Well, I dropped him off at DD-5 on Los Robles in that Floral Park neighborhood. Bet he'll be there, licking his wounds, maybe even crying himself into a whiskey bottle…"

Forlorn, you feel your heart ache at the thought.

Javier was not fairing any better, when he thought about how upset he'd made you.

After Ellis dropped him off, he'd shed his blazer and tie before dejectedly organizing the clutter of boxes in his bedroom to be against the wall and out of the way, at the very least.

He wasn't sure he should bother unpacking them.

The doubts that clawed their ways free had him questioning every decision, leaving him spiraling while he aimlessly walked through his two-bedroom, one-bath bungalow picking up after himself from the whirlwind rush he'd left in his wake that morning. The pitter-patter sound of the light drizzle that kicked up with the drop of a gusty breeze was thrumming against the metal crank windows as he wandered about.

The sound was quite soothing, helping him distract his mind from the roiling mess of his tempestuous thoughts.

Gingerly touching his cheek after tossing clothes into the hamper, he finds it's still tender, but not as hot as it'd been after your slap.

His mind flashes to how furious you were, and a pang wells in his chest before he can stop it.

It's replaced by the twinge in his stomach that has him huffing and kicking off his shoes into the open sliding door closet before he lopes glumly out of his room.

Having skipped partaking on any of the nibbles at the hotel, he wandered to the galley-style kitchen with the bar top counter that looked out at the empty dining room space and the living room beyond, in search for something to hold him over until the morning. While he went, he took the whiskey bottle out from the top cabinet next to the fridge and placed it aside on the counter before retrieving one of the bevel glass tumblers from another cabinet.

He was opening the pantry cupboard he'd hastily shoved the groceries he'd purchased the night before, grabbing a bag of plantain chips from the shelf, when he heard a knock on his front door.

Immediately going on high-alert, Javi left everything on the counter and approached the door cautiously. After peering out the vertical-stacked square block sidelight and seeing a familiar silhouette, he idly scrubbed his palm over his mouth tensely.

Unlocking the two deadbolts, he opens the door, and confirms it's you.

You turn towards the door and meekly stand there just sheltered out of the drizzling rain thanks to the concrete awning covering the front entrance stoop. He can tell you're warring with internal conflict by how creased your eyes are, and how your hand wrings around the strap of your purse hung on your shoulder.

After hanging up with Ellis, you'd felt so guilty that you'd rushed to put your heels back on, grabbed your day-to-day purse, and replaced all your important items into it from the slim one, grabbed your condo and car keys, then breezed back out the door. You didn't even take umbrage at the fact he strategically fed you Javi's address, even threw in the security code for the gate, because he knew you so well. No, you were glad for it, and used the drive over to regain your emotional grounding point and stamp down the upheaval of before.

As soon as you'd pulled up to the curb in front of the blue-and-white-painted cement house with the open-air carport garage and wrap-around backyard-and-side brick fence on the corner, you'd stared at the front door and warred with your emotions, however.

It had already started drizzling, so intrepidly, you decided you needed to get it over with before the heavier rain shower rolled through. At least that was the excuse to get out of the car and march up his front walkway to the door.

Javier's shocked, albeit cautious expression makes you frown, so you steel yourself and just get on with it.

"Look, I…I overreacted tonight. That was completely inappropriate, and I had no right to behave like that," you rush out in a firm tone, body language easing in rigidity when you see his shoulders relax and his tense features soften. "I'm—I'm sorry. I should've handled it better, and there is no justification for taking my anger out on you like that—"

"You don't have to apologize," Javi husks ardently before adjusting his weight onto his opposite foot in order to gesture with a nod of his head in invitation as he rumbles, "It's starting to rain. Would you like to come in?"

You hesitate, looking back as indeed the drizzle becomes a rainfall that doesn't look like will let up for a while.

Pressing your lips together, you idly comb your hair behind your ear before hedging, "I didn't come here to intrude, Javier—"

"You're not," he assures steadfastly, cautious about not being too pushy that it'll trigger you into wanting to leave, so he murmurs, "I appreciate that you came all this way. So…it'd mean a lot if we could just talk? I, uh, I'd like to try and, I don't know…"

At him grasping for the right thing to refer to it by, you sigh and coax reservedly, "To hash things out?"

Javi nods, relieved. "Yes—Yeah, exactly," he retorts in a raspy baritone before stepping aside and holding the door open for you.

Deciding to just stow your reluctance towards even being there – feeling the way you do – you accept his invite by walking in and wandering through the entry and into the main space. It's a sparsely decorated house designed in the current minimalistic, modern style that had become the rage in the early 1990s in the metropolitan area of the island. The kitchen was to your right, and the living room was straight ahead while a short hall to your left led to the laundry room and marquesina entry.

"Sorry, I don't have any rum. I just grabbed stuff from a colmado nearby last night," Javi is remarking as you take yourself to the living room and sit on the wide-cushioned gray sofa. "I, uh, know you're not a big whiskey drinker—"

"It's ok. I've actually been on a diet; a liquor cleanse," you volunteer as you place your purse on the light wood grain coffee table with the block legs. When Javi dithers by the bar top counter, you snicker and assure, "I've already broken my liquor fast for the night, so just a glass of water is fine."

He nods and quickly goes to grab the glass tumbler he'd left on the counter before getting the water pitcher from the fridge. Once he's got that and a glass of whiskey for himself, he comes over and hands the water to you.

Your fingers brush briefly as he sits in the retro-looking swivel chair adjacent you on the sofa. "Not very good at sticking to that stuff, I guess," he jibes in response, referring to you both ending up at the bar earlier, and when you pause in taking a sip of water to give him a sharp look, he clears his throat and corrects, "I mean, I've been cutting back, too. Just hard to stick to it…" when your gaze softens and you nod before taking a sip from the glass, he adds, "I quit smoking."

Surprised, you cup the glass in both hands, resting them over your tucked knees. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Haven't broken down and had a cigarette since before Christmas," he remarks before taking a sip of his whiskey.

You nod, smile reserved as you place the glass down so you can cross your legs, pretending you're not teeming with frenetic nerves.

Javi knows it. He knows your guard is all the way up, and you can't just turn that part of yourself off. Not when you're trying to protect yourself and keep any perceived threat locked away from the fragile parts you can't keep compartmentalized and detached from.

So, after swallowing the rest of the whiskey in his glass, he sets it on the table while it burns down into his gut and gives him the courage needed to step into the lion's den.

"Celina…I don't know what to say. Where to even start," Javi rushes out, leaning forward to pleadingly look you in the eyes. "Everything that happened – I never meant for you to get caught up in it. I—it fucking kills me that I hurt you. That you were stuck to deal with the fallout…thinking I just left and stayed gone. I'm sorry," he pauses when his voice begins to tremble, but at the way your eyes crinkle at the corners, he forges on, "I should've called. Should have told you I was coming back. I made so many mistakes, but the biggest one was not having the courage to tell you—"

"Javier."

He pauses then, brown eyes focusing intently on you when you sit forward and brace your hands to your forehead in a hassled manner, like you're desperately trying to collect yourself and not fly off the handle.

A tense few seconds of silence pass, and just when you let out a heavy exhale, he expects you to finally lose your temper – to really let him have it. He ends up being surprised when you sigh and sit back to look at him.

"I can't lie to you. I was blindsided, and furious with you—with what you did and how you did it. I questioned everything you ever said…got upset with myself for ever believing anything you'd promised. But when I found out what really was going on? I felt lost," you're telling him, voice cracking before you divert your gaze away towards one of the windows across the way. When you feel like the tangle of emotion has dissipated, you continue in a hushed tone, "Everything that mattered – my work, my career at the embassy, all the hopes I had for my life. It all just fell apart. I felt like everything was a lie."

Javier watches your lashes flutter as you fight back the welling of tears, and is thunderstruck when you look over at him now with all the emotion in your wide, watery eyes when you wring your hands together and devastate him with the last thing that he'd ever expect you to say.

"It…It was the most scared I'd ever felt, and I felt so lost, and then I felt so guilty, because I realized that was how you must've felt."

Heat rises to your face as the emotion overcomes you, making you flustered and wanting to be far away from him – to not let him see you at the verge of falling apart.

"Querida—" Javi begins to croak hoarsely, but before he can move over to comfort you, you've grabbed your purse from the table and rushed to your feet to try and make a hasty exit.

"I'm sorry. I have to go—" you're in the middle of flustering out in a tremulous breath, when Javi gains on you and herds you away from the door to instead be tucked against him.

You flinch, recoiling away to stare up at him when he embraces you with his hand at the small of your back while he cups your cheek to swipe away the errant tear that escaped your eye.

"Please, mi amor. Don't go," he susurrates, heart aching when your breath stutters and more tears fall to roll down your cheeks. "I don't want you to ever feel guilty. Just—we can start over. Everything we wanted is still possible. I meant everything I said. I want it all, with you—"

Brow furrowing stubbornly, you wipe at your cheeks as you push away from him while you cut in, "What're you doing here, Javier?!" Anger welling up in your chest when he gives you a confused pout, you snap, "Why are you even here?!"

He realizes what you mean – what you're truly asking, which is, 'Why did you come to Puerto Rico?'

Staring at you intensely, he decides to go for broke while warring with the impulse to just wrap you up in his arms.

"I came here for you."

Astonished, you stare at him like your incredulous mind is trying to decipher his true motives – to detect the lie.

So, with an assertive tone, Javi declares, "I went back to Colombia. You'd already left – had moved out of your place, and no one had heard from you since you'd left your cousin's, and they didn't have a way to get in contact with you. Fucking months went by, then Steve gets the job here, sees you're working at the Federal building. The moment he told me…the moment I knew? I made the call to take the job here the next day."

When you still, purse clutched in your hand as you stare in stunned disbelief, Javi slips his palms around your hips to hold you close. "I came here to be with you, Celina. I don't give a fuck about the job. If you want, I'll quit tomorrow," he grouses, tone becoming velvet over steel as he adds emphatically, "I'll do whatever you want, go wherever you want – do whatever you need me to do to prove you can trust me. All that matters to me, is you."

Speechless, you stare into his soulful, dark chocolate eyes in the lowlight of the entry by his front door.

The weight of it all steals your breath, and before you've stopped it, the walls within you come crashing down.

Dropping your purse to the floor, you toss your arms around his shoulders and kiss him.

Love-struck, Javi groans a yearning sound as he pulls you into him and kisses you with sheer hunger, mouth claiming yours while his hands grip you against him to pin you to the wall so he can hike your dress up and you can wrap your legs around his waist.

Feeling the urgent press of his arousal seeking the heat between your thighs after so long has you shivering and mewling, heat rising to the apples of your cheeks as Javi trails possessive kisses from your mouth down to your jaw before grazing his hot mouth against your pulse.

"Wanted this. Wanted to pick you up and feel you against me," he growls as he worships a scintillating path down your neck to the swell of your breasts that're pushed together from how desperately you're clinging to his shoulders. "You had to wear this sexy fucking dress—"

"Javi," you gasp when he grinds his clothed erection against your core, which makes your pulse throb in your clit and arousal drench your panties.

"Fuck, I need to taste you, baby," he husks as he adjusts you back onto your wobbly tippytoes in the heels before he fondles a needy path down your curves and drops onto his knees before you.

"W-Wait, Javi," you stammer in a panting whine when his hands eagerly slip up your thighs to push your dress up so he can reach the waistband of your panties and pull them down your hips. When he halts in the task and stares up at you with those puppy eyes, you fluster, "I—It's been a while for me."

He looks surprised, which for some reason instigates a scalding wave of annoyance that has you snippily scoffing and snapping, "What?! You might've spent all fall and winter fucking your way through all the girls back in Laredo, but I haven't been with anyone! Not that I'm obligated to say if I've been with anyone else. Knowing you, though? You probably screwed your new office assistant here too already, huh?"

Javi snorts contrarily at the accusations before running his hand testily through his hair, gripping the tufting curls at his crown with a snarl. "Not in the least, querida. I haven't been with anyone," is his impassive grumble. When you don't seem convinced and your pursed lips sneer dubiously at him, he drawls, "Nope. All I've done is jerk off like a fiend. Probably have the lady at the drugstore back home thinking I'm a fucking creep with how much tissue and KY Jelly I go through—"

You snicker and stifle a giggle into the back of your hand as you deride, "Ay, por favor, like you didn't do that while we were together anyway. Even if it bothered me, there's no point in fibbing—"

He gives you a narrow stare as he grouses, "I'm not. And fine, I'm always hard up, but I'm serious. All I want is you, and it wouldn't matter if you're seeing someone else—"

"Oh yeah, you wouldn't care?" is your challenging question, adding, "You really wouldn't be bothered if I've been with another guy? If I was seeing someone? Your track record would say otherwise—"

Hands firmly sculpting back up your dress to pointedly press your hips against the wall, Javi pins you in place with his smoldering stare as he starts to tug your panties down while he rumbles hotly in response, "Yeah, well, I wouldn't care if you were with every asshole I saw leering at you today. Hell, even if you were with that prick with the beard. Because right now, all I care about is that you're with me now, and all I wanna do right now, is eat this pussy until you come on my tongue."

An excited shiver courses through you as if you were a tuning fork that had just been struck. It buzzes into your core and sets cloying desire to tingle into the clutch of your now tingling cunt, making all sass and snark scatter in your mind as you watch him peel your panties down your legs before he helps you remove the sullied garment, then takes your heels off for you.

"This fucking dress," Javi gravels in a thick husk, almost reverently as he pushes the hem up to expose your thighs before he presses worshipful kisses along the smooth expanse of skin. "I've fantasized about you in this dress for months—"

"R-Really?" you simper, but end up hiccupping a breathy sound when he finally makes it to your mound and nuzzles into you.

He feels arousal throb beseechingly through him at the heavenly perfume of your womanhood he's been missing for months, the panties he'd swiped being a poor substitute to the real thing. The heat and headiness of nosing the soft curls of your mons and feeling your warm skin diffuses a wave of comfort and want through him, making him hum covetously.

"I rented that movie a while back. Ever since, I pictured you in this dress, letting me do this," Javi tells you unabashedly as he shifts your leg over his shoulder so he can lick a luscious swipe up through your folds.

"Oh my god!"

The airy whine you let out is as rich as your divine scent, and just as sweet as tasting your wet pussy after so long.

You arch against the wall at a particularly lascivious lick that preceded him flicking the tip of his tongue in that libidinous way that melts your nerve endings down with pleasure. Alight from it, you mewl, "Javi!"when he presses his lips over your clit and groans, making you tingle and writhe as your toes curl from how amazing he's making you feel.

Hearing you say his name like this is a triumph. It's so overawing after so long without your grace and passion. He's painfully hard, cock throbbing with how worked up he's getting just from going down on you – convinced that if you so much as begged in that needy whine you let slip from your lips when you're close, that he might come in his pants.

When he draws circles over your clit with velvety undulations of his tongue, you keen and buck against his mouth, chasing bliss you've been starved of while Javi revels in having you again.

He feels your thighs quiver in his grip as you rock your pussy to ride the zeal of his mouth, completely enraptured by his ravenous desire.

So enraptured, in fact, that he's surprised when you mewl a reedy cry of pleasure and card your fingers desperately into his hair, tugging on the strands at his crown when he sucks on your clit and drives you into an incandescent orgasm.

He manages to keep you from folding over him when your legs give out, and when you exhale a ragged little flustered sound, he hums a soothing rumble as he licks your climax like it is rare honey that he doesn't want to miss a drop of. Then, he nuzzles a path up your body and affectionately crowds you so you can cling to his frame while you lull your head back along the wall as you regain your bearings.

Your eyes flutter when he admiringly brushes his fingertips along your flushed cheek before tucking some strands of hair from where they're clinging to the perspiration at your temple. And when the lustful haze clears from your vision, you see how handsome and pleased he is as he scrubs the back of his hand across his moustache all the way down to his chin while he gazes at you with something fiercely self-satisfied glinting in his dark brown eyes.

Javi is surprised when your brows knit together just before you grab the front of his shirt and yank him down to meet your possessive kiss. Floored, he goes to pin you against the wall, but instead you assertively redirect him backwards as you begin to tug at his shirt buttons.

"Mmph, querida—" he grunts in between the torrid making out while you maneuver him to backpedal to the living room.

When he backs into the side of the sofa, you silence his protest by shoving him backwards onto the cushy surface, thanks to the momentum of his knees catching on the plush curve of the armrest helping him topple with a grunt.

You clamber over it as well in order to hurriedly straddle his lap and hastily unbutton his shirt while you resume kissing him with passionate desire.

The tangy and whiskey flavor of his mouth has your head spinning as you tug his shirt open before kissing luscious fire down his neck and chest. As you do so, you let your eager hands wander down to his belt next. As they descend, you marvel at the differences in touching his torso now from the last time.

Javier's pectorals are firm and chiseled under your plush lips, and his torso was far more defined than you remember – abs etched and tummy taut so impressively that it was clear he hadn't been idle all the time back on the ranch. And when he hastily yanked his arms free from the shirt to shed the constrictive tightness of the fabric at his back being pinched into the couch, you internally swooned. The definition of his arms and the span of his shoulders had caught your eye earlier in the day, but to see him sans the suit now confirmed all your suspicions. There's no doubt…he's been working out.

You wanted to see the rest of him, so you kiss along his jaw as you swiftly unbuckled his belt and unfastened his light gray trousers.

His breath hitched when your touch skimmed over his clothed erection, making him squirm and arch under you as he simultaneously rushed to undo the sturdy, albeit delicate-feeling buttons at the front of your dress. You hum in approval and nuzzle that spot just under his jaw that makes him weak with need as you shift to straddle him while freeing his erection from its white cotton confines.

Jolting from the direct contact of your nimble touch over his throbbing cock, Javier stammers, "F-Fuck," and grips your waist.

You lean back to see he's unbuttoned the dress all the way down to where the belted waist stops and blocks further progress until it's undone, so you deftly shimmy your arms out of the sleeves and adjust the cant of your hips while you rush to unclasp the front closure of your nude-toned bra.

Enraptured by your toned physique and supple skin, Javi ends up staring at your perky tits and peaked nipples just as you straddle yourself right over his crotch and lean back down to kiss him torridly.

His scent is masculine and warm, with a hint of musk that clings to his skin, making you yearn to press your nose into his neck. Breathing him in after so long has you grazing your teeth over his pulse before suckling a possessive kiss into his skin.

Javi groans out, and it's so starved, that you undulate your hips over him before burying a hand into the back of his hair to guide him to meet your lips, kissing him with ravenous delight.

Oh fuck, fuck-fuck-fuck— he's gritting out in his head at how amazingly soft and warm you feel against his bare skin, getting flustered when you plant your palms over his broad chest and deepen the kiss with a lustful grind of your pussy against his hard-on. Truly, it's taking all of his control to not get overwhelmed and worked up while also staying grounded in the lustful desperation of being consumed in the tempestuous desire scintillating between you both.

You're unaware of how wound up he is, being completely out of practice in spotting the tells, and frankly too preoccupied with how good it feels to rub against his cock while your tongue licks against his in the torrid kiss.

Oh, dammit—forgot, I'm not on the pill! The worry flashes across your mind, and you groan frustratedly at it as you suckle on Javi's bottom lip before reluctantly breaking the kiss.

Panting against his jaw, you're just about to ask him if he has a condom, when Javi's breath hitches and his grip on your waist tightens, and you finally notice how taut his pectorals are under your hands.

The groan you'd made was practically a starved whine to his aroused senses, and combined with how you pulled on his bottom lip? It made a spike of pleasure snap months of pent-up desire loose, and before he could rein it back, feeling the heat of your pussy rut flush against his cock had him overloading with hyper-sensational arousal. He couldn't stop it.

With a choked, harsh grunt, Javi ground out, "Oh fuck—!" before he stiffened under you and his hips arched involuntarily up, breath catching in his throat as he writhes against the uncontrollable jerks of his body blitzing out against his will.

You still against him and stifle a gasp at the feeling of warm fluid surging against your mound and inner thighs.

Javier's skin burns with a mortified flush that radiates up his neck and scalds his face as he clenches his jaw and swears wordlessly in flustered, embarrassed frustration.

Incredulous, you lean up from being prone over him and stare with disarmed awe down at him, as you murmur, "Did you just…come?"

The way he practically turns red in the face as he bashfully cups his hand over his eyes in shame while the other caresses nervously along the length of your thigh is all the answer you need, but Javi scrapes his thoughts together enough to grouse, "Jesus fucking Christ…"

It makes quite the sight for you. Muscles tense and sculpted, skin flushed hot with his embarrassment, full lips parted and panting raggedly, and his hand trembling on your thigh now. Well, I'll be damned…

"Huh. I guess you weren't lying, after all."

The saucy, silky drawl of your teasing statement was accompanied by you tracing the defined contour of his oblique to the flat of his taut abdomen in a soothing glide of your fingertips, while you also patted the hand that he has on your thigh placatingly as you sigh, "You could've given me a heads up—"

Gruffly, he lets out a surly scoff before exhaling and dragging his palm from his eyes up to his forehead and through his hair testily.

The sight of you naked from the waist up, with your hair tousled, and giving him a look that was sultry and provocative – albeit endearingly amused, was enough to make want simmer hotly through him all over again.

"Couldn't get in a word edgewise, not with the way you were kissing me—" is his surly grumble he trails off on when you cock your eyebrow sardonically at him.

The way he's scowling up at you now instigates you to goad him. "No need to be so ornery," is your faux-admonishing lilt as you showily sit up on your knees and remain straddling him while you busily tuck him back into his underwear and zip his trousers shut, then lift your sexy dress' skirt in order to flaunt the damp, sticky stains of his cum seeping into the light material before remarking, "Oh, well. You shouldn't have started something you couldn't finish – well, finish together, anyway—"

Smoldering from your teasing, Javi suddenly sits up and manhandles you against him before clambering off the sofa.

You yelp in surprise as you hastily wrap your legs around his waist and hook your grip to the back of his neck as he effortlessly carries you out of the living room to turn down a back hallway that leads to his bedside-lamp-lit bedroom.

"Who said we're finished?" he growls as he stalks into the large room, just before he tosses you onto his plush bed.

You let out an airy giggle as you land, but the way he looks at you while he rushes to get his clothes off makes a deviant thrill tickle down into your core and leaves you buzzing from the hot wave of arousal that tingles warmly into your pulsing cunt.

Javier sees your breath quicken from your excitement, so while he strips his undergarments off, he orders in a low octave, "I'm not finished with you, querida, so take that fucking dress off. Now."

Something depravedly gleeful curls free from you as you sit up and shake your head defiantly, giving him an exacting look, before you counter, "Come take it off of me."

That primal desire to dominate you burns a streak up through him at your words, so with his agile reflexes, he grabs your ankle and yanks you down the bed. You gasp out in excitement as he brusquely tugs the belt of your dress loose before working each of the asymmetrical placket's buttons undone with deft fingers, all while possessively kissing your breasts.

Neither of you care how sticky you are from the earlier snafu, and frankly, you're aching so bad for Javi to be inside you now that any and all thoughts from before are gone from your mind as you arch into his mouth when he sucks hard on your nipple.

He groans from your hands burying greedily into his hair while he moves to suckle on the other studded nub and discards your dress blindly to the floor behind him before he picks you up and climbs onto the bed with you.

"Nnngth!" you whimper when he nips lightly on your pebbled flesh before he lays you down on the bed and settles eagerly between your thighs.

The smoldering, molten look in his eyes as he gazes down at you in your nude glory makes you needy and bold, so you lean up to hook your hand to the back of his neck in order to tug him down to meet your yearning kiss and pull him to be on top of you. Feeling his broad frame and warm muscles press into you is rapturous, sheer bliss in of itself, and you relish how good it makes you feel.

Javi revels in it too, enjoying your supple form and passionate kiss as his hands fondle and caress your curves covetously.

When he slips his touch between your bodies to dip two fingers inside your wet pussy, you gasp into his mouth and arch, knees impulsively hiking up to clutch at his hips. The feeling is new but familiar all at once, thanks to how long you've been without him, and when his thick digits curl and brush that erogenous spot you can never reach with your own, you grip your fingers into his back and whimper for more.

The way your cheeks flush and your mouth falls open on a moan while your eyes flutter shut at him grinding the pad of his thumb over your hypersensitive bundle of pleasure is too much for him to linger in just touching you now. So, he recedes his fingers and quickly uses your arousal to slicken his ramrod erection before dragging the head of his cock through your drenched folds.

Feeling it notch at your dimpled entrance while his big hands scoop under you in order to hold you into alignment has your breath flitting out of you while you gaze lusciously up at him. His eyes are dark pools of coffee that glean an earthy cocoa from the shade-less table lamp that casts a yellow illumination in his bedroom, and for the first time in too long, you reach your fingertips to caress affectionately across his brow before you skim them up to his forehead to brush his long wisping curls back from his sweaty skin.

Javi lets out a soothed exhale as he bows his face to nuzzle you lovingly, and you savor it while you loop your arms around him to clutch at his back just before he thrusts into your clenching heat.

"Mmmph!" you whine, feeling your muscles protest and strain from the thick of him filling you in one fell swoop.

At your leg hiking up with a jerk from how hard you arched, Javi shifts to hook his arm under it while he slips his other hand to cradle the small of your back so he can adjust how deep the next thrust goes. He swears gruffly at how warm and tight you are when he sheaths to the hilt into you, groaning into your neck when your nails nip into his lower back.

"Feel so good…missed feeling you," Javi husks in a gravelly timbre before suckling kisses into your neck and up your jaw. "Gonna take it slow, preciosa."

You exhale a little mewl and grip your hands at his lats when he starts rocking slow and deep into you.

The way your silken walls flutter around his cock has him setting a toe-curling pace soon enough, though, and his mouth trailing delectable fire across your senses as he kisses you with hungry desperation has you enraptured.

The tempest of passion being spun up in you burns pleasure through you, making you moan, "Javi, p-please—need it," when he starts quickening his pace and letting the ferocity of his need amplify the pounding of his thrusts.

At your moan, he grunts possessively and shifts so he can hold you against the bed and really fuck you hard now.

The debauched sound of warm colliding flesh weaves around the squelching of him slamming through your drenched cunt and the buildup of your moans falling into rhythm now. Javi can feel how your thighs are beginning to tense and the way your walls are fluttering tighter around him, so he starts rutting against you every time he slams home, which causes his pubic bone to grind into your clit with just the perfect amount of pressure that wreaks pleasure through you.

"Ahh, Javi!" you cry out and writhe under him, hands clutching at his back just beneath his shoulder blades while your body bowls up into his as you fall apart from the blazing orgasm, gushing your climax so hard that Javi groans in accomplishment above you.

Watching you come enchants him, truly. He missed basking in your climax – how your features glow from exertion and bliss as he prolongs your pleasure. It's like an elixir for his parched soul, being able to drink in how beatific you become from his sinful triumph in making you reach rapture.

It makes him feel worthy once again.

You're a sweaty and warm panting heap when you come down from the aftershocks, eyes heavy as they stare up at the undulating ceiling fan you hadn't noticed before while Javi nuzzles into the crook of your neck and breathes in your heady perfume.

Once your pulse has calmed, your throbbing flesh feels how rock-hard he still is inside you.

Realizing this is what he meant about taking it slow, you kiss his shoulder before limberly hiking your legs up and pivoting to roll you both until you're able to straddle his hips while he stretches out under you with a flustered look on his handsome face.

"Cariño—" Javi begins to rumble when you roll your hips and undulate to grind down on his cock salaciously before squeezing your floor muscles around it. His hands grip your thighs as he arches and moans, "Dios mío, b-baby. Mmmph!"

His cock throbs inside of you as you start to ride him, and it feels so amazing that Javi's hands desperately snap up to hold onto your waist as you hum alluringly and rut down on him before clenching your sheath tight again.

The way he moans makes you feel alight and wound up now, so you hold onto his wrists and really start fucking yourself on his perfect shaft, feeling spun up by the power of dominating him and knowing how much he needs you to make him come.

"I want it, Javi. Give it to me," is your throaty purr as you plant your palms over his broad chest and squeeze his pectorals, earning a tight growl from him just before you order, "You're gonna come inside me this time, beautiful boy—"

"Oh Jesus Christ!" he groans, raunchily overcome by how fucking hot this is and how sexy you are, and how desired you make him feel.

However, he's unable to accept shooting his load again without making you come one more time.

So, he surprises you by shifting up to wrap his arms around you possessively before pivoting so that he's balanced up on his knees while his hands hold you to set a desperate, unabashed pace of fucking you. All you can do is blindly reach back to hold onto the top of his headboard for leverage as you rock roughly into him, other hand clinging to the back of his shoulder and neck as you both work each other into an incandescent passion, moaning and gasping, falling into the abandon of getting lost in coupling with fierce desire now.

Nothing matters but his pleasure. Nothing matters but your pleasure. The feeling of his hands caressing you like he's a sculptor working with clay. The feeling of your body undulating like a sinewy haven he's sinking deeper and deeper into.

All that matters is how you make each other feel right here and now.

And when you both reach the zenith of it all, you're flung off the precipice into soul-shattering delight together, climaxing and giving yourselves over to the wracking throes of achieving bliss with each other once more.

You wordlessly cry out as you come, and Javi husks a groan with you, bowing his head into your chest when he shudders and squeezes you close as he fucks his cum deep enough that you feel the decadent bloom of his seed filling you in the seat of your womb. The rapturous delight fills you both up, and you nuzzle kisses into his temple and cheek before he affectionately hums. He tilts his face up to rub his cheek against yours before his full, adoring lips kiss yours languidly while you both come down from the blissful high.

Javi leans back exhaustedly onto his haunches and pants raggedly when you loop your arms clumsily around his shoulders and slacken relaxedly in his embrace with a dreamy sigh.

Before he runs the risk of collapsing in a heavy heap on top of you, Javi lays you on the now rumpled bedding before kissing dotingly along your heated features, grunting approvingly when you hum softly and distractedly comb your fingers through the back of his sweaty hair.

Shifting up once he feels the last of his energy begin to fizzle out, Javi groans when he pulls out and watches your comingled climaxes honeying your now tender flesh before pearly rivulets weep free from your pussy. You shiver at the sensation and squeeze your warm, slick thighs together while you stretch out tiredly now just as he flops onto his back next to you.

There's a comfortable lull, where only the sound of the fan rotating at a low ambient hum while it undulates the cool night air in the room across your heated skin reins, whilst you both catch your breaths and lie in post-coital bliss.

Then, Javier breathes in a cleansing inhale before huffing it out in a sated exhale.

"Fuck…I could really go for a cigarette right now."

For whatever reason, his pleased and cool mutter bursts the bubble.

Completely unaware, though, Javi leers sidelong at your bodacious form, cataloguing how tighter your tummy and more toned your arms are when you suddenly pull yourself up to sit with your knees tucked up against your chest.

Christ on the cross…you did it again. Just got right back into bed with him, is your recriminating sneer at yourself as you stare about his large bedroom.

Adjusting to lounge on his hip, propped up by his elbow, Javi gazes warmly at you, admiring how the yellow lamp light makes your dewy skin glow before he realizes your features are guarded – eyes faraway.

"Querida," he murmurs as he sidles closer and kisses your bare shoulder, which stirs you out of your self-reproachful thoughts to blink and glance meekly over at him now. Thinking you're getting skittish because of how raunchy you both are now after the salacious sex, he quickly mutters, "Be right back," before rushing off the bed to the bathroom entry adjacent his side of the bed. The sound of the sink running, then the wringing of a towel precedes him coming back into the room in his nude glory before he flops back down onto the bed with you.

However, before he can cozy up to you with it, you snatch the washcloth from him, scamper to the foot of the bed, sweep up your discarded dress and then scurry into his bathroom, before clicking the door shut.

Bemused, Javi is slow to realize what's happening. Shit. Shit-shit-shit!

Hurrying to grab a pair of sweatpants from his suitcase, he pulls them on as he hastily rushes out of the bedroom to intercept you as you make your exit out of the bathroom's hallway door.

You've just turned the corner and rushed to the living room while you swiftly buckled the satin belt of your dress when you hear his footfalls, so you retrieve your bra and speedily yank it on to fasten it shut before you shove your arms into the sleeves and rapidly work the buttons up the placket shut as you sprint to the entry to get your panties, heels, and purse left discarded on the terrazzo floor.

"Celina, wait!"

Javi's gained on you before you were able to get to the front door.

Shrugging away when he tries to herd you back to the living room with him, you sigh, "Javier, I have to go—"

"C'mon, don't leave like this," he coaxes as he loops his arms around your waist and gives you a plaintive look. When you relent and just fidget from one foot to the other, diverting your gaze from his, he assures, "You can tell me exactly everything you want to say. Yell at me. Curse me out and tell me exactly how fucking stupid I was. I know I was, but if you need to get anything off your chest, you can. I want to hear you—want you to feel heard. Anything you need, I'll do it. I want to earn your trust back, corazón. You don't have to go—"

"I can't do this again, Javier."

Frowning, he lets you wriggle from his embrace so you can yank your panties on and shimmy them up under your dress before you slip your heels onto your feet.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. Shouldn't have kissed you or gotten so carried away—" you're muttering as you adjust your dress, when your rambling lamentation skids to a halt from how he puts his hand over the one you'd been scooping up your purse with from where you'd set it on the adjacent bar top counter.

"This is not like last time," Javier vehemently declares, eyes molten with his conviction when you stare up with disarmed surprise at him. "I know I've fucked up enough times now that you'd be justified in never forgiving me, but I need you to know how much what we had mattered to me. How it still matters to me. You're everything I want, so…I'll wait as long as I have to, until you're ready," he professes, other hand coming up to caress your cheek as he begins to husk, "Celina, I love—"

Your eyes sharpen as you shake your head and take a step back, dismissing, "No, please, don't. I don't wanna hear that, Javier. I-I can't hear any of that right now." I can't fall back into this and get stuck in the vicious cycle again—

At seeing how your words wound him and earn a woeful frown to etch his features, your heart aches, and you can't help scoff at yourself before amending, "I just need time to think about everything."

Javi exhales, reluctant, but nods in appeasement before insisting, "Ok, but you don't have to run off from me, you know—"

"Javier. I got the news you were not only back at the DEA, but assigned as the Special Agent in-Charge here all at the same time, then had to go into a meeting with you looking fresh as a fucking daisy and I couldn't run up and punch you like I wanted to. Then, you followed me around that godforsaken stupid event like a persistent puppy, accosted me in the parking lot with your proclamations, and just fucked me silly after throwing me in a whirlwind about what happened almost half a year ago! I think I'm entitled to run off and regroup on how I feel," is your imperious harangue, hands snapping to your hips as you impatiently glare at his stunned, dopey look before you deadpan exactingly, "Fair?"

Jesus, when she puts it like that…

"Yeah, that's fair," he concedes and crosses his brawny arms over his chest, then grumbles glibly, "You skipped the part about slapping the shit out of me—"

"Yeah, well, I apologized for that, you jodón," is your snarky sneer as you eye him stubbornly while you watch that sly smile tug across his full lips, making it clear he'd just been goading you. With a huff, you dismissively grab your purse now, and turn to amble off to the door as you gripe, "Ugh, you're fucking incorrigible—"

His hand gets to the door handle before yours, but this time, it's to chivalrously open it for you.

"I can't help it. Not when you look so sexy when you're sassing me," Javi drawls in that velvety timbre that makes heat zing through your sore muscles.

Wryly, you roll your eyes, and are about to just walk out, but then you pause, turn to him, and kiss him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Peña," is your silky murmur, enjoying how his expression softens with a doting smile.

"You too, Reinosa," is his warm chuckle.

Snickering, you turn to exit out to the cool night air and strut down the wet walkway, but pause halfway when Javi calls out, "Hey." You turn and raise your brows curiously, so he smirks and purrs, "Since you're in that dress, you gotta say the line." The girlish scoff you let out is irreverent and punctuates the amused way you roll your eyes, so Javi needles, "C'mon. You just gotta."

Unable to help yourself, you put your hand at your hip and give his broad, muscular frame a once over before you toss your tousled hair sultrily. Then, with a bat of your lashes, you do your best Kathleen Turner impression as you smile and drawl, "You're not too smart, are yah? I like that in a man."

Javi grins so broadly that his boyish dimple appears in his cheek, and you shake your head amusedly before resuming walking to your car.

"Fuck me," Javi wistfully hums to himself as he watches you get in and smile at him from the driver's side window before you turn the car on and drive away.

He ends up locking up and going to bed hungry but satisfied as he stretches out in the nude under the ceiling fan, surrounded in the sheets and bedding that smell of you.

He sleeps so soundly in the sex-laced scent of his bed that he's startled groggily awake by the pounding knocks coming from the door that leads out to his open-air carport. Rolling clumsily to the side of the bed with the digital clock perched on the nightstand, he blearily sees it is almost 11am.

"Ah, shit…" he grumbles as he forces himself to sit up and crawl over to get his sweatpants on. A few minutes and more impatient knocks later, Javi lumbers tiredly to the door and unlocks it. "Alright, fuck. Lay off," he snaps as he opens the door for Steve before turning to stalk back and towards the kitchen. "I know, I know – I overslept. Just let me set the coffee to brew, then I'll go get ready—"

"Holy shit, Jav," is Steve's deriding scoff as he enters his partner's abode and sees the signs that he had company last night: The two crystal tumblers left on the living room's coffee table, glinting guiltily in the early afternoon sun coming from the window. "You don't have anyone back there, do you—?!"

"No," Javi snaps as he fills the coffee pot with water from the sink.

"Uh-huh," Steve deadpans as he surveys the scene, hands in his jean pockets and shoulders rolling back under his light blue polo shirt. "Guess you had fun at the party, then?"

Muttering under his breath, Javi sets the coffee maker to brew and walks around the counter to stride past Steve en route to the back hallway. "Quit fishin', hillbilly—"

"Just hurry up and shower the sex funk off yourself so we can go! I promised Connie we'd all go to Old San Juan for dinner tonight," Steve calls out after him as he lopes over to the sofa, but before he goes to sit on it, he cautiously eyes the cushions before shouting, "Did you already screw on the couch?"

"Fuck off, Steve!" is the response he gets before a bathroom door is slammed shut down the hall.

Deciding to play it safe, Steve sits in the opposite side chair and picks up the TV remote to check the weather forecast while he waits.

You, however, are relitigating the entire previous day's sequence of events as you lounge grumpily in your bubble bath, after having slept peacefully once you got home, and woke up feeling guilty about how good you felt when you shouldn't be already emotionally moving into the 'we're totally back together and going to make it work' phase.

Submerging under the suds, you hold your breath and let your mind clear. No more thinking about it.

Bobbing back up with a sigh, you lean back against the tub and continue to soak while you sulk.

…You didn't use any protection…

The anxious pang makes your pulse race for a few beats before you take a cleansing breath in, then let it out slowly through your mouth.

Once the warm water cools and the bubbles become frothy suds, you get out of the tub and get ready for your day.

The weekend comes and goes, and so does most of the work week without much fuss. In that time, you're busy overseeing a massive digital onboarding effort at the federal level while Javier hit the ground running on overseeing things – including one of the first coordinated task force raids.

It was a big operation that would involve hitting several puntos, or drug points, around the metropolitan area.

Steve had given him the lay of the land – shepherding Javi to all the notorious spots gangs operated out of, to where they'd likely distributed to local dealers from. Most of the targets were located in public housing divisions run by the local state, often located just a stone's throw away from the affluent sections of the capital and bustling tourist areas.

Reluctantly on Monday, Javi had met again with the rookie who'd been assigned driver duty for him. He didn't like the idea of not driving himself, but figured he had to deal with it in the interim.

The young cop was eager and jovial, always bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when he picked up Javier and escorted him to and from. Today was no different.

"Buen día, Agent Peña!" is the cheerful greeting he gets when he climbs into the unmarked Ford SUV police vehicle.

"'Morning," he greets, favorite aviators on and coffee thermos already going to his lips as he settles in. After taking a long sip, he placatingly makes conversation by asking, "Have any plans for the weekend?"

"Ah, yes! Me and my brothers are going to Vega Baja to la, eh, the beach?" the young officer parcels out in his rough English, dark expressive brows furrowing when he waffled on the right word.

"Kike, you can just stick to Spanish if it's easier," Javi assures in Spanish, smirking when the rookie pouts.

Unlike his usual custom of being flippant and sarcastic towards his peers, and straight up standoffish and aloof with his subordinates, Javier didn't have it in his heart to quash the exuberant, albeit excitable energy from the scrappy-yet-jovial rookie. Sure, his enthusiasm had been a bit disarming the first time they'd met – "Hello Agent Peña! I am Enrique Torres, but my friends call me Kike. Eso es Ki like 'Key' y Ke como 'Keh', so Keykeh!" – but the more the kid persisted with his fastidiously congenial greetings and intrepid efforts to engage Javier in conversation, the more he wore him down into friendliness.

"No, sir! I want to get my English better," Kike insists, nodding curtly as he drives. "But thank you, sir."

"Alright. So Vega Baja has nice beaches, then?"

"Yes, sir! Very nice. All Puerto Rico has great beaches, but we go to Vega Baja for the food too," the brown eyed man with the dark curly-hair explains as he navigates the traffic expertly, not even batting an eye at drivers who cut in and out of lanes without putting a turn signal on or really following the norms of the road. "There is a great kiosko we go to for frituras en La Boca you should try!"

Javi lets out a humored grunt before asking, "Where would you go if you wanted to take someone out?"

"Ah, depends on how nice you want," Kike muses, navigating towards the entry to their destination. "If you want to dance? Plenty of clubs in Isla Verde. A nice dinner? Anywhere in Hato Rey or El Condado."

Javi sets his thermos in the cup holder within the center console so he can pull out the map from the glove compartment and visually assess all the areas he's mentioning. "What about somewhere nice that's right on the beach?" is his query as he traces the map with his finger along the metropolitan area's coastline.

"You got a hot date, Agent Peña?" Kike cheers in his goading tenor, brows bouncing conspiratorially at Javier in such a way that he snorts and shakes his head at the kid. "Bueno, there are nice places in Dorado, but not really right on the beach. Most places on the beach are chinchorros—"

"What's a 'chinchorro'?" Javi asks, internally bewildered once again by another colloquial term he's never heard of. He'd had to learn so many terms, sayings, turns of phrase, and coded slang in Colombia, but a lot of it luckily resembled things he'd grown up hearing amongst his Mexican and Tejano friends. But there was a lot of Puerto Rican-isms he'd never heard of before, and selfishly, he wanted to be friendly with Kike so he'd have a go-to translator for all of it. Among other very useful reasons he'd found for keeping the kid around.

"Eh, it's like, como se dice…a shack? No, like a kiosko that is rustic and not very fancy, you know? Those are on the beach, and most people go to drink and eat for a little bit. A pitstop?" Kike strings together, and when Javi just gives him a deadpan stare, he huffs and says in Spanish, "It's where you'd go on the weekend to shoot the shit with friends over appetizers, have drinks, dance, and head back on the road to try the next spot. There are a ton of spots like that in Loíza. Some are made of cement and have balconies or terraces that overlook the beach, though."

Nodding, Javi wonders whether you'd ever want to go with him.

When Kike finally pulls up to the barracks, he parks and joins Javier on the impromptu training exercise he was about to watch the Comandante of the municipality oversee.

As he approaches the area of the barracks where field drills are run, he spots Duffy and Lopez already there, talking to one of the sergeants.

"Agent Peña, this guy is connected," Kike whispers to him as they approach. "Brother-in-law works in La Fortaleza."

Nodding, Javi approaches the group, getting prepared for quite a stressful day.

You, on the other hand, are just getting out of the shower after coming back from your early morning jog. Going into your bedroom to retrieve an outfit for the day, you let your mind reflect on the whirlwind of a week that had kept you preoccupied from thinking about what happened with Javier.

Tugging on your sleek navy trousers and tucking in the silky indigo blouse, you go to the dresser mirror and let down your hair from the bun in order to brush it out while you think. He's behaved. Hasn't dropped in or cajoled you into talking. Things here are not the same as the embassy, so it wouldn't be as taboo for people to know about us…if we wanted people to know, anyway. Well, know that we're back together...

Ellis had peppered you with questions when you'd gone over for dinner at his and Anita's place Saturday night, having let Zoraida know you would be having a lowkey night rather than going out with her and the girls, but you'd simply told him you needed time to process everything. That you had to reflect and recalibrate your thoughts towards the entire situation.

Sagely nodding, Ellis had hummed along, as if totally agreeing with you. And then he'd pulled out that morning's newspaper – which was already folded and tucked to the article that used a photo taken the night before – with a smug smile before drawling, "Well, this is definitely worth putting in a scrapbook, girlie."

The group shot was in black and white, but you could practically feel your umbrage all over again as you saw just how close you and Javi were standing from each other. He looked so freaking handsome though, so the outrage fizzled before it could really take hold.

Later that night, you'd been in your nightgown, sitting on your bed reading the article and trying not to let your gaze wander back to Javi in the photo, when your cell phone had rung on the nightstand next to you.

"—Ketsele! I just read your email. I'm packing a bag now and am on my way—"

"N-No, don't do that, Sasha! Everything is fine. I'm so sorry. I-I just needed to vent," you'd sat up and crisscrossed your legs as you explained, "When Ellis told me, I was so furious, that I needed to just write my rage out—"

"Ok, well, please tell me you stuck to just venting…?" Sasha had fished, voice a drawn-out question teeming with concern.

"…Not really," you'd sighed, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth before divulging the entire sequence of events to him. Once you'd exhaled and slid down into your pillows huffily, you'd grumbled, "All right, let me have it…"

A terse pause had been your answer, until Sasha had dramatically sighed, "You love him."

It wasn't something you could deny. So, you didn't. And after discussing all your concerns, he'd told you quite earnestly, "Well, when I come back down to visit, if you haven't murdered him out of sheer exasperation already, I'll make sure to let him know I will make him disappear if he fucking hurts you again—"

"Oh stop," you chuckle dismissively before redirecting the conversation by inquiring how things were going with him, asking about Marc, and asking about how his father was doing.

Afterwards, you felt a little better.

Nevertheless, you still had so much swirling around in your mind, one none more pressing than a concern that you'd too quickly disregarded while blinded by your lust.

However, it hadn't been until the next day, when you were picking up a few things at the local El Amal to stock up on some pharmacy essentials, that you'd wandered down the feminine hygiene aisle and paused at the at-home pregnancy test section. Grabbing a few and tossing them into your basket, you recited a mantra to yourself from the time you left the drugstore to when you were pacing the length of the hallway, waiting for the time to elapse so you could check the results.

It's been months since you've menstruated, and it's unlikely anything would happen if you're not ovulating. This is just to be sure, and you're just being cautious.

It didn't ring true until you returned to the bathroom vanity, checked the test and saw that there was no blue line in the square window of the applicator. Not pregnant.

You'd breathed a sigh of relief, and stored the other two test kits in the towel closet's top shelf with the travel toiletry case and hand towels.

You're probably not able to get pregnant anyway, is your dour thought as you dab the spritz of perfume between your wrists and stare vacantly at yourself in the mirror now. Snapping out of your melancholic daze, you force yourself back into the closet to grab your black kitten heel pumps when three swift knocks sound loudly down the hall from your front door.

Perplexed, you check the time on the clock at your nightstand before rushing on bare tippy toes down to the door. You look through the peephole and let out the tense breath you'd been holding before you unlock the deadbolts.

When you open the door, your father stands tall and imposing while dressed fairly casual in his gray slacks and white guayabera. His leather shoes are polished and match his dark brown belt, and although he's not in uniform, his posture is still regal as if he were.

"Well, nice to see you're in one piece, niñita," he grumbles haughtily as his gaze hones in on you fighting the impulse to roll your eyes at him. "You never answered my message—"

"Pá, come in," you sigh as you stand on your tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek before ushering him through the threshold. "I won't even ask how you got in the complex without a key or security code—"

He surveys how nice and tidy your apartment is from the previous time that he'd visited as he states, "Oh, when you first moved in, I bribed the superintendent to give me the gate security code for the pedestrian entry."

Shaking your head, you close the door and eye him cynically. "Why am I not surprised…" is your deriding deadpan.

"Hm, this place has come far. You moved a few things around," he's remarking as he lopes around the open-concept space to look out at all the pretty potted plants on the balcony, glancing at the Laguna del Condado that makes up the greater part of your condo's northern view.

"Yes. The landlady took her dining room set up to Fort Lauderdale, so I moved the table and chairs that used to be here to where the dining table had been. I like it better. Lucked out with getting this place, and with nice furniture to boot," you're remarking as he strolls back over and hums a musing sound. "I'm sorry about not calling back. I've just been busy. I meant to call earlier this week, but it turned hectic," is your excuse now once he's glanced appraisingly down the hall towards the bedrooms and single bath, as if expecting a secret to reveal itself. He grunts neutrally in response to you, and strolls through the open space of your entry towards the tall kitchen counter. "I have some time before work. Would you like something to eat? Some coffee?"

Perking up a bit, he leans on the countertop. "Sure, if you're having something," he replies in his cool baritone, smiling when you waltz around into the kitchen to retrieve a clean cup before filling it with dark coffee from the cafetera. His eyes soften as he remarks, "That looks familiar."

Snickering, you place his cup on the counter before topping your mug from earlier with fresh café. "I prefer it over the newer machines. And it's better for brewing just a couple cups worth," is your retort as you set 'Buela's old coffee kettle to the back of the stove before you get a small pan out from the cupboard. As you seamlessly retrieve butter and two eggs from the fridge, you ask him over your shoulder, "How was your trip?"

He sits on one of the padded stools on the dining side of the counter top. As he does so, he notices the folded newspaper issue Ellis gave you left at the side of it, but glances over at your back after he's picked up the coffee cup while he answers smoothly, "It was fine. Nothing worth boring you with. I'd rather ask about you."

Humming, you crack the eggs into the now buttered and sizzling pan before discarding the shells into the trash and retrieving the salt, pepper, and cumin from the spice rack adjacent to the stove. "Oh? You really want to hear about 'all that computer crap' I do?" is your sarcastic musing as you sprinkle the salt and pepper onto the eggs before glancing over your shoulder when he grunts an unamused huff at you.

"I can always count on you remembering the littlest slight—" he begins to remark before noticing you're uncapping the cumin and now dusting just a smidge over the eggs. Expression relaxing into a charmed smile, he rumbles, "You remembered."

Tending to the eggs with a spatula, you turn sidelong and squint wryly at him. "Of course. I remember everything, just like someone else I know," is your chimed musing. "You're the only weirdo who likes cumin on his eggs," you teasingly snicker as you grab a plate in preparation to slide the entire serving onto it.

"No, you have the other half," he insists, so you serve only one egg and pass it over to him before placing the other on a similar plate. "Weirdo y que weirdo…" he grumbles comically as he takes a long drink of his coffee.

Chuckling, you gesture towards the small dining table in front of the balcony doors and suggest, "Go sit, those chairs are more comfortable. I'll bring the cubiertos."

A few minutes later, and you're both sitting at the small square glass table with the cushioned seated, wrought-iron dining chairs.

The moment should've been pleasant – a nice respite between similar people who are so much alike, that they rarely have moments where their similarities don't repel each other. But you sense he has an ulterior motive for dropping by, and he knows you're biding your time until he reveals it.

"This is delicious, tesoro."

"Thanks."

"I thought only a weirdo like me liked it with cumin, though," he jokes dryly before sipping his coffee.

"Unfortunately, I inherited your weirdo-ness, it seems," you drawl simply, then finish your last bite.

He chuckles before dabbing his mouth with his napkin, dark trim moustache impeccable as he gives you a wan smile now.

"So, I saw your picture in El Nuevo Día the other morning."

You pristinely dab your napkin at the corners of your lips while you hum in acknowledgement.

"You looked very nice. Albeit, a little preoccupied," he fishes inconspicuously, piercing gaze honing in on your expression now as you hum noncommittally. "I heard from one of the cabinet officials in the governor's office that the feds have sent down lots of new heads of agencies to take on the Mano Dura initiative," is his tactically questioning assertation. "Even implemented a last-minute shakeup in the DEA leadership down here—"

And there it is.

"Yes, they decided to have two SACs for the Caribbean division," you reply conversationally as you sit back in your chair and finish your coffee before placing the empty mug down with a clank on the glass table, drawling, "But you already knew that."

Grunting evenly, your father crosses his arms and stares you down now.

"Should I be concerned that this agent – Peña – was resurrected from the DEA self-sabotage trench he threw himself in, to come down here, after everything?"

His assertive question is teeming with displeasure, but he's trying to keep reserved; to appear unruffled, but the accusatory edge still bleeds through to you.

Giving him an aloof smile, you query, "Let me guess: You invited the official out for a round of golf so you could interrogate him? I hope you didn't forfeit your handicap for the intel—"

"I don't like your frivolous tone, Celina," your father mutters in a mild baritone as his arms tighten with impatience across his barrel chest. When you defiantly stare at him, he exhales his terse energy, then amends his tone by evenly explaining, "I did not ask too many questions then, because I wanted to respect your privacy, and knew how important to you it must've been for you to reach out to me for help in the first place. But that doesn't mean I didn't have him looked into—"

"Pá," you draw warningly, eyes narrowing now as you slap your napkin down on your empty plate. "You had no right—"

Assertively, your father leans forward and braces his big hands around the corners of the table in order to quell his temper as he grounds out firmly, "You are my only child. And no matter how much you don't believe it, I love you with all my heart. Your happiness and safety are important to me, and the fact both were compromised by that man—"

"Is absolutely inaccurate! And even if it was, it's none of your concern," you exclaim forcefully and push your chair back in order to swiftly snatch the dishes and utensils up so you can busily march them back to the kitchen to place them in the sink with a clatter. "You cannot use sentiment to guilt me into telling you any more than what I've chosen to confide with you!" is your berating remark as you turn back to see that he's followed after you and is now glowering at you from the front of the tall kitchen counter, which pits you both literally on opposite sides.

He sees how angry you're getting, so he sets his jaw and shakes his head ruefully before quelling his impatience, and pressing, "Mija, I'm really trying here. But this?" he emphasizes when he picks up the newspaper and holds up the section it's already folded into, which displays the photograph from the ballroom – where you and Javi are just shy of being near one another – before continuing, "It concerns me. I don't want you ending up collateral damage—"

"You mean you don't want my name out there reflecting negatively back on you," is your bitter charge as you cross your arms and stubbornly stare him down.

You're surprised when the wind goes out of his sails at your accusation.

He tosses the newspaper onto the counter and stares openly at you before contending, "Celina. I was wrong for having said that to you before. I let my anger get the better of me, and was callous. But I do not want history to repeat itself. We lost so much time…I lost too much time for letting my disdain for what happened cloud what really mattered."

Fighting the tremble of your lip as he stirs deep emotions to rise up in you from how earnest he's being, you walk around the kitchen counter and go to him, surprising him when you loop your arms around to hug him with genuine feeling.

"Javier is not responsible for what happened to me. All he ever did was go out of his way for me – protected and respected me like no one else ever has. I—" you pause your hushed assertion when your voice cracks, and once you've cleared the lump from your throat, you assure, "He isn't someone you need to be concerned about, so please don't go after him."

Your father exhales noisily as he holds you tight and kisses the top of your head.

"Is he here for you?"

"Dad. Please, just…don't worry, alright?"

Sighing, he decides to let the topic go…for now.

"I should get going," is his grumble as he steps back and kisses you on the cheek before heading to the front door. "I'll be on the island for a bit, so maybe you can come to the house for dinner? I could have the chef make whatever you'd like—"

"So Camille is around, then?" you mutter as you accompany him, raising your brows acerbically when he pauses at the open door. "I'd rather just come over when she's not around—"

He grunts in disapproval, but answers, "We can coordinate something around when she goes to visit her sister, perhaps."

Appeased, you smile and hug him goodbye as you retort, "Ok, then maybe I can do a Colombian night? Cook everything I miss and that you like?"

"Pandebonos, even?" your father asks, and perks up when you nod smugly. "Your abuela made them the best."

Agreeing, you smile when he kisses your cheek again, and promises to call to let you know a day that will work out.

Before your father is able to stride away towards the elevator that's around the bend in the open-aired corridor, you call out, "Pá." When he turns to look back at you inquisitively, you smile and tell him, "Te quiero."

Stern countenance softening with affection, he answers, "Te quiero mucho, tesoro," before continuing on his way.

You feel better once you've rushed back into the apartment to finish getting ready for work, and find yourself letting hope fill you up.

Everything you'd been keeping at bay seems less of a burden now, and as you drive to work, you allow yourself to be open to not having all the answers yet. Because even though you're ambivalent still, you are willing to let grudges go and feel your way through things. To drop your walls a little and allow yourself some grace.

Unaware of the whirlwind you were about the get swept into, or how much your life will change yet again from the series of tumultuous events to come, you set out on your day with a hopeful new outlook towards what's coming your way.

________________

Read Chapter 41: Enchantment

Spanish-English Glossary:

Marquesina = Open air garage or carport

Mija = Short for mi hija, aka my daughter; my girl

Nena = Girl

Llámame = Call me

El Nuevo Día = One of the main newspapers in Puerto Rico

Damas y caballeros = Ladies and gentlemen

Muy bien, y gracias a todos = Very good, and thank you all

Una Cuba libre, por favor = A rum and coke, please

Puterías = Bullshit

Maldito mentiroso malparido = Damn liar motherfucker; equivalent to 'You fucking lying bastard'

Colmado = Small grocery store; corner store

Querida/querido = Affectionate term, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Mi amor = My love

Ay, por favo = Oh, please

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Dios mío = My god

Corazón = Heart; pet name to signify how deeply you love someone

Jodón = pain in the ass [male]

Buen día = Good morning; Good day

Eso es = That is

Y Ke como = And Ke as in

Bueno = Well

Como se dice = How do you say

Comandante = Commandant; Commander

La Fortaleza = The Puerto Rican Governor's office and mansion; aka 'The Puerto Rican White House'

Niñita = Little girl

Pá = Short for 'Papá' which means father, or poppa

Weirdo y que weirdo = Equivalent to muttering acerbically 'Calling me a weirdo'

Cubiertos = Napkins and utensils

Tesoro = Treasure; darling

'Buela = short for 'abuela', aka grandmother

Te quiero = I love you

Te quiero mucho, tesoro = I love you very much, darling

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

[enigmatist17]

L.A Seems Fun (Part 2)

Part 1

---

"Early one morning, just as the sun was rising

I heard a maid sing in the valley below

Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,

How could you use, a poor maiden so?

Remember the vows that you made to me truly

Remember how tenderly you nestled close to me

Gay is the garland, fresh are the roses

I've culled from the garden to bind over thee."

It had been a lifetime or three since Angel had heard that song, especially coming from someone who refused to sing if anyone was within hearing range. Well, he had with Drusilla at times, but they were rare enough to never draw much attention from Angelus or Darla.

Yet here Spike was, singing without a care even though Angel and Cordelia were only a few feet away, to the little bundle in his arms. Connor was cooing as he listened to the vampire, one little hand waving up and down when Spike grinned and poked his nose.

"He's been singing for the last half hour," Cordelia whispered into Angel's ear, the older vampire having finally woken from his first decent bout of sleep in months in her arms. "Wish I had his skill."

"Connor's okay?" Angel only held back from jumping out of bed and snatching his child from Spike's hands because Cordelia was not worried in any way. One of her hands idly ran through his hair while she read a book in the other, clearly having joined him at some point after he passed out with Connor in his arms.

"Safe as houses." She replied with a soft hum, kissing Angel's forehead. "Spike is a friend, and he loves Connor."

"What?" Angel blinked, wondering just how long he'd been asleep. "Friends?"

"And roomies." Spike waggled his eyebrows, trailing off to hold Connor up by his cheek with a smile. Angel is concerned to see the younger man covered in bruises from what looks like a vicious beating. "Got me a nice room upstairs, little tyke 'ere loves it."

"You're staying?" Angel sat up with a slight wince, the other trailing across the room to slip the happy infant into his arms before he could speak.

"Reckon I can use the vacation from Sunnyhell." Connor squealed slightly as he got comfortable in his father's arms, Angel raising an eyebrow at Spike, who pointedly avoided his look. "Speakin' of, 'm gonna score myself a bit o' violence before bed, so 'ave fun children."

"Have fun?" Cordy questioned as the other vampire swept out of the room, waving his hand before he disappeared around the corner with a whistle. "He is so weird."

"No, he's just Spike." Angel shrugged as he gently poked his son's nose, donning his demonic face to hear the peals of laughter the baby let out moments later.

"I will never get over how cute that is." Cordelia smiled from her lounging spot on the bed, earning herself a genuine smile from Angel, showing off all of his vampiric teeth in the process. "Adorable."

"You're just being nice," Connor cooed as he was bounced a little. The little being in his arms soon yawned and dozed off when Angel shuffled back on the bed to sit beside Cordelia. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the vampire just watching his son sleep as Cordelia watched Angel.

"Spike and I had a chat after you fell asleep." Angel glanced over as she hummed under her breath, flipping a page in her book. "I know you both have history, but you're going to play nice with Spike while he's here."

"Um...I am?" He doesn't have to look over to see the look on Cordy's face, her tone of "don't mess with me buster because I just adopted another loser off the street" was enough to be an answer.

"It took half the liquor cabinet after we got back, but he opened up with some of what is going on in Sunnydale, and it's bad." Cordelia had to shake her head at the memory of the drunken confession she'd bore witness to after the fourth bar they'd gone to, closing her book with a quiet sigh and setting it aside. "He had to convince me not to go down there myself to raise figurative hell, and ended up using your son to do so, cheeky ass."

"Connor has that effect huh?" Angel chuckled, the sleeping baby making a noise as if he heard them. "Spike can stay as long as he wants, I can tell he's attached already."

"Considering you've seen him for about five minutes, that's impressive."

"William has never been able to hide caring about something from me, this is one example." Angel shrugged. "It'll also be nice to have an extra fighter on hand."

"Good." Cordelia hugged Angel's side with a soft noise, looking down at Connor with a smile. "Another Sunnydale stray finding their way with us, huh? I can't believe we ended up being the responsible ones...well, most of the time."

"I blame L.A." Angel shrugged, Cordelia's laugh nearly echoing throughout the entire hotel.