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bellakitse · 4 years ago

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Nothing ever stays the same

Farmer's Market redux.

A few days after running into his parents at the farmer's market, Carlos and TK run into them again. This time Carlos tells them who TK really is to him.

Spoilers for 2.04

They give the farmer’s market another try. TK suggests it since they didn’t get a chance to explore all of it the last time. Carlos agrees, even though he’s a little tentative about it.

TK swears up and down they’re okay and spends the rest of the week at his place. Carlos thinks it’s both to reassure him they’re fine and because Owen and Gwyneth are acting weirder than ever around everyone.

“They’re both jumpy as hell and secretive,” TK mentions as they walk around the market hand in hand, stopping here and there at different stalls. He smiles sweetly at the old lady that offers him to try one of her organic strawberries. Carlos watches him as he bites into it, smiling as TK’s smile grows at the taste. He opens his mouth when TK turns to him, offering him a piece, and nods when he asks if they should get a pound of the berries.

“What do you think is up with them?” he asks curiously after paying the woman.

“Oh god, who even knows with those two,” TK answers with exasperated fondness. It’s a familiar tone for TK when talking about his parents and their weird relationship. “I rather not speculate, to be honest. I don’t need any more parental trauma,” he says with a dry smile that says he’s only half-joking.

Carlos lets out a sympathetic sound before touching his shoulder, tugging him gently towards him. He’s relieved when TK comes into his space without hesitation. Even though TK has repeatedly told him everything is okay between them and understands his situation, Carlos can’t help but be unsure. He knows he really hurt TK just a few days ago in this very place, and the thought has been plaguing him since. He can’t stop thinking of when they first began and how TK’s reluctance to define them hurt him. But back then, they weren’t in love. If TK denied them now, he’d be heartbroken.

It kills Carlos that he did that, allowing his fears to take over, hurting the man he loves.

“Hey,” TK questions quietly, his green eyes soft and loving. “Where did you go? You were a million miles away just now.”

He shakes his head and forces a smile on his face hoping it’s enough to distract TK. The sad, knowing look on TK’s face tells Carlos it isn’t. He winces at the loud sigh he lets out.

TK reaches out, touching his thumb to his brow, smoothing it over, and Carlos can’t help a sound of his own at the gentle touch. He closes his eyes as TK leans in, pressing his lips to his temple as he hugs Carlos to his side.

“Stop feeling guilty already,” he murmurs against his skin, huffing out a dry laugh when Carlos tries to deny it. He gives Carlos a look as he pulls back. “It’s like you think I can’t read you like a book by now. I see every worried look you send my way. It looks like you’ve had a stomach ache for days now, enough, baby,” TK lightly scolds him, his affection for him shining through it. “We’re moving past it, okay?” he finishes in a serious tone.

Carlos looks at him and finds nothing hidden behind his eyes he doesn’t mean. He opens his mouth to say yes, that he’ll listen this time and move on from their fight when he stops short, the reason for their argument standing by the cheese stall a few feet away from them. “You gotta be kidding me,” he whispers, honestly shocked at the chances. Since when do his parents visit the farmer’s market so damn much?

TK turns his neck to follow his line of sight; he tenses against him when he finds what he’s looking at. “Damn, what are the odds,” he says under his breath. He turns back towards him with a smile so forced on his face, Carlos thinks he actually hears his heart break from seeing it. “I’m going to take a walk around the corner before they see me. You go say hi.”

TK takes a step away from him without waiting for an answer, and Carlos realizes he’s serious; he’s really willing to hide to make sure he’s comfortable. Carlos has never loved and hurt more for someone in his life. He sticks out his hand, taking TK’s before he can take another step away from him.

“No,” he says softly but firm even as his heart pounds like a jackrabbit against his ribcage as he comes to a decision. He’s scared, he can hear his pulse roaring in his ears, but he refuses to let TK feel like he did days ago; he won’t let them go through that again. “No,” he repeats once more as he gives TK’s hand a squeeze. “Nothing ever stays the same,” he reminds him of his comment from the other night, getting a quirk of TK’s lips in return. “And I don’t want it to.”

TK’s eyes widen as he gets his meaning; they stray to Carlos’ parents. They still haven’t noticed them but probably will in a matter of seconds. “Are you sure?” he asks, concerned. “This doesn’t have to happen now, I meant what I said.”

“I know,” Carlos cuts him off, knowing TK has been nothing but sincere since their talk. TK is more than willing to let him set the pace to this, and Carlos couldn’t possibly love him more for it, which is why he can’t hide him from the people he loves. “Come on,” he whispers, tugging on his hand as he starts to walk towards his parents. He feels TK give it a squeeze of his own.

“Mami, Dad,” he calls out to them, getting surprised smiles in return as they turn towards him.

“Carlitos!” his mother says happily, as his dad lets out a chuckle.

“Twice in one week at the same place,” he says with a grin. “Is the farmer’s market where first responders hang out these days? In my days, we’d just hit a bar,” he teases.

Carlos tries to smile at the joke, but his focus is on his mom, who has quickly zeroed in on his and TK’s clasped hands. She looks up at him with wide, surprised eyes.

She stares at him for a moment more, understanding entering her brown eyes. “Oh,” she says softly.

“Yeah,” he whispers back with his heart in his throat. “Mami, Dad – this is TK,” he says before looking back at him, not at all surprised at the love and support he finds in his gaze. “He’s my boyfriend, and the man I’m madly in love with.”

He turns back to them, finding their attention on him, though they both stray a look at TK once more. “I lied the other day because I was scared,” he tells them, answering their silent question. “You guys and I don’t talk about me being gay, and for years that has worked out fine,” he says, holding up a hand when his father opens his mouth to speak. “I know you guys love and accept me, but it’s been easier all these years to just ignore the elephant in the room because there was never anyone that really mattered to me.”

Carlos turns to look at TK once more, smiling at him as his heartbeat settles into a peaceful rhythm. He knows, no matter what happens next, everything will be fine because he has TK.

“That’s changed now,” he finishes knowing how true it is.

There is silence between the four of them for a moment before his father clears his throat. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, TK,” he says with a small but sincere smile.

“Yes,” his mother follows gently. “Very nice to meet you.”

TK swallows first before giving them a smile of his own; it’s nervous at the edges but beautiful. “It’s very nice to meet you too.”

His mother smiles at TK the same smile she usually reserves for him, it’s welcoming and kind, and it loosens the tension in Carlos’ shoulders. Proving she misses nothing, she instantly catches it, her expression changing once more as she looks back at him.

“You were scared to tell us about your relationship,” she comments quietly, looking sad when he gives her a shaky nod. “Oh, Carlitos,” she lets out a sigh before taking a step towards him.

Carlos swallows hard as she looks up at him, holding his breath when she reaches out, touching his cheek. “Tu sabes que te amamos, no importar qué, si? Siempre mijo, we love you,” she says sternly with tears in her eyes.

Carlos looks over at his dad, who looks affected by her words too. “Listen to her, son,” he says gruffly. “Your mother is always right.”

“That’s right,” his mother answers smugly, as she gives him a watery smile. She pats his cheek lovingly before she looks over at TK again.

“You have a kind face,” she tells him, chuckling when TK blushes a bit. “Sweet boy,” she grins. “I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“Maybe Carlos can bring him to Tia Lucy’s,” his father suggests suddenly, and Carlos lets out a startled laugh at the way his mother lights up.

“Yes,” she says enthusiastically. “Oh, you have to, Carlitos. You know how Tia Lucy loves pretty boys. She’ll adore him.”

“I would love to take him,” he says after clearing his throat, still a little shell-shocked at the turn of events. “That is if TK is okay with it.”

TK nods quickly as a bright smile takes over his face, and Carlos has to hide his own as his mother’s eyes widen in response; he understands her reaction perfectly. It’s taken months to not be completely overwhelmed by TK’s beauty.

“Okay, then,” his father says with a clap of his hands. “That’s settled then, we’ll see you both on Sunday. TK – “ he continues as he holds out his hand to him. “It was nice to officially meet you. You’re okay for a firefighter.”

“Thank you, sir,” TK chuckles as he shakes his hand.

Carlos is pulled into a hug by his mother and then his father, both of them squeezing him tight. His mother surprises both him and TK by pulling him into his own hug. She whispers something into his ear that causes TK to smile again as he nods at her.

They watch them leave, rounding the corner before TK turns to him with the gentlest smile he’s ever seen.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around him before the first tear falls down Carlos’ face.

He shakes, but TK just holds him tighter, running his hands up and down his back. Whispering that he’s there, and he has him until Carlos can take a steady breath. When he pulls back to look at him again, TK is ready, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

“What did my mother say to you?” he asks, holding his breath at the bright smile TK gives him.

“She thanked me for loving you,” he tells him, causing Carlos to swallow around another lump of emotion forming in his throat.

“She’s right,” he whispers as he leans in, pressing his forehead against TK’s. They stay like that, blind to the world around them. Right now, there is nothing but TK and his love in Carlos’ world. “Thank you for loving me.”

TK closes his eyes, his adoring smile firmly in place. “Loving you, Carlos, is the easiest thing I have ever done.”

translation for what Carlos' mother says to him: You know we love you, no matter what, right? Always, son

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #my writing

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years ago

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@sicktember #1

Prompt # 1: Fever

Title: Damn Nick Fury

Fandom: Avengers/MCU

To kick Sicktember off, I'm starting with some classic Avengers sickfic. This is actually part of a longer work that I posted many moons ago on AO3. Still one of my favorite whump fics that I've written.

Clint Barton breathed slowly and deeply as he drew back his bow, sighting in his next target. He was so far unnoticed by the cultists they were fighting, perched high in a tree as he was. Below, Natasha was baiting and dodging them with ease, dispatching one every now and then to keep them occupied. Clint's task was to pick them off as she did so.

Another arrow met its mark.The archer sniffled wetly as he reloaded while cold water continued to trickle down the back of his collar. He had made Fury aware a day or so ago that he had a mild cold, as was his duty as an assassin. If he wasn’t at one hundred percent, his commander needed to know. However, Fury had insisted he and Nat take this mission, since no one else was available. The soaking rain they encountered when they arrived was unexpected. However, it turned out the rain had actually made it easier to obtain the objective of this particular mission. Meanwhile though, it was making Clint thoroughly miserable. Compared to other missions it was going quickly, but the five hour stakeout leading up to the current fight had not been pleasant in the continuous downpour, even up in a tree.

Wiping his nose on his shoulder, Cint again loosed an arrow. Only five more cultists to go. Then they could loot the bunker, get the map they needed, and go home. A drip of water hit him right in the eye, and he growled to himself, inwardly cursing Fury. He had started to shiver an hour ago, though he made sure his hands were steady as ever. He couldn’t wait to take a long, hot shower and sleep for at least twelve hours. He only needed to hold out a little longer.

The tickle in his throat had gradually become a low, irritating ache. He coughed softly. The sound did little to make his throat feel better, but it did make the nearest cultist look up at him. Before the man could do anything other than widen his eyes, Clint’s arrow ended him expertly.

Hawkeye sighed wearily. Four more to go.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty-six hours later, Clint and Natasha were relaxing on the couch in Avengers Tower. Natasha had her legs tucked up under her and was reading a book while Clint had his head pillowed in her lap with his arm flung over his eyes. Suddenly, his breath hitched warningly. Natasha lifted her arm in a practiced way to give him room to turn and bury his face into a tissue:

"HehyYIIZSHHhoo! hihtESHHHiew!"

She looked down at him with an irritated sound. "That is the third time you've sneezed in as many minutes. I'm making zero progress in this book. You're going to be finding yourself a new pillow in a minute here. Plus I'll kill you if you get me sick."

He sniffled wetly and blew his nose before replacing his head in her lap with a weak cough. "Aww, you would ndever kill mbe, 'Tash. I'mb the only one who puts up with your crap. But I'mb sorry. I can'dt help the sneezing. It's mbaking mbe mbiserable too if that helps."

She sighed in an annoyed way, but couldn't help looking down at him fondly. "You're lucky I know you well enough to understand what you're saying. And you're also lucky that it just so happens to be true that we tolerate each other better than most, so you're safe from assassination for now."

"Blame Fury. This cold wasn't so bad until I had to sid oud id the rain for hours." He sniffled thickly again, barely turning his head away as he followed it up with a cough.

Natasha made a face, swatting his shoulder lightly. "You're gross. Cover your mouth when you cough. And I don't *have* you let you lay here, you know. You have a perfectly comfortable bed only a short elevator ride away."

" 'm cold though. And if I go ubstairs there's ndo one to mbake mbe tea." He swiped at his reddened nose with the tissue, trying to look extra pitiful.

"You're extra whiny when you're sick. Not a good look on you, Hawk." She carded her fingers once through his hair. "And you're just cold because you're a little feverish."

Instead of replying, Clint halfway sat up again and brought a tissue to his nose, breath scissoring and nostrils flaring.

Natasha groaned as Clint once more exploded into a sneezing fit:

"Gihh-ESSHHshuuu! hehKSHHHshuu!" He coughed, then sneezed again: "ERRSHHhuh! Hih'EZSHHyue! --guhhh." Clint miserably rubbed the space between his eyebrows, slowly lowering himself once again to Natasha's lap.

"Apparently my partner has managed to catch the world's sneeziest cold. How did I get so lucky?"

Once again Clint was kept from replying as Natasha's communicator began to ring. She glanced at the screen, then at Clint.

"It's Fury," she warned.

Clint quickly sat up. She answered the device, turning it so they could both see. Fury's single eye met theirs, looking as serious and commanding as ever.

"Good, you're both here. Barton… your nose looks red. How are you feeling?"

"Aboud the sabe I guess. Sneezy."

"And feverish," Natasha said with a warning look at her partner.

"How feverish?"

"Ndot very. One hundred or so," Clint mumbled.

"That's… not ideal. But I don't have any other option… if at all possible, we need you both out in the field again ASAP. We've discovered a small Hydra base, but it's a crucial one. Some of their brainiest goons are posted there, working on something big. From some communication we intercepted, it sounds like their project is almost finished. I need eyes out there immediately. Recon only for now. Think you can handle that?"

The assassins glanced at each other. "We're good to go," said Clint firmly, though the sore-sounding rasp in his voice betrayed him slightly.

"I hope so. Don't disappoint me. I expect you in the air in an hour or less." With that their director ended the call.

Barton and Romanov glanced at each other once more, this time with a weary sigh from Clint before they stood and went to get ready.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Barton! What's your situation?"Natasha's voice crackled over the com.

"Being... chased by three. Heading... to the roof… of the base," Clint gasped around labored breathing.The metal steps made a sharp clanking noise as the archer sprinted up them, nocking an arrow as he went.

"Can you handle them on your own?"

"We'll… see...," he panted, sweat rolling into his eyes. "Backup… would be nice...."

"I'll be there as soon as I can. I've got 4 of my own. Hang in there, Hawk!" The line went dead for the time being.

"I'm gonna … kill Fury…," he mumbled breathlessly as he reached the roof. He darted to the far side of the area and spun around, taking a knee and aiming his bow at the stairway he had just vacated. The sounds of the three Hydra agents sprinting up behind him were unmistakable, but he was as ready as he was going to be.

"This was supposed to be... an easy recon mission, but noooooo…. It's another... full-on assault," he continued to mumble, trying to catch his breath as the shouting on the stairs got louder.

As an extra stroke of bad luck, it was pouring rain here too. Clint flipped the water out of his eyes with a toss of his head, his hair and clothes hanging on him limply. He hadn't stopped shivering since they'd gotten off the jet. His teeth were now chattering and his fingers were blue with cold. His throat was absolutely burning now, raw and inflamed, the pain exacerbated from running. He couldn't suppress a hoarse barking cough just as the first baddie poked his head through the opening. Clint dispatched him immediately, but the two still coming up were not dissuaded.

The second goon got lucky. Clint's hand slipped on the bow a fraction, and the Hydra agent got hit in the shoulder instead of the heart. The archer knew he was in trouble now. With trembling hands, he managed to kill number three with a final arrow, but the one he had wounded, by far the biggest of them all, continued to advance menacingly.

Hand-to-hand combat was evidently imminent. On any other day Clint could have made short work of this, but this miserable, feverish cold had him operating at around fifty percent capacity and falling. Clint pulled out his knives with shaky hands and another rasping cough. When his opponent was a foot away, Clint tried to leap up to get in the first hit. Instead he slipped and staggered, and the Hydra agent's fist, with all of his weight behind it, caught him in the ribs. Clint heard a dull cracking sound as he was flooded with pain, but he couldn't pause. He spun and ducked, trying to avoid the worst of the blows while trying to get in some of his own. At least ⅓ of his opponent's swings met their target though, and in minutes Clint was battered and bruised, barely clinging to consciousness.

He knew he only had enough stamina for one more try. In a split second, while the Hydra agent was off-balance winding up for another swing, Clint leapt once more, and at last his knife met its mark.

As the baddie crumpled to the ground, so did Hawkeye, wheezing weakly, every breath agonizing. He activated his com as his vision threatened to gray out:

"Roof... clear. Good...Nat?"

"All clear down here too. Mission complete. Nice job, Hawk. Let's turn this bunker inside out and go home."

"Mmph."

"You good, Barton?" she asked, concern suddenly in her voice.

"Gonna need... medevac… Won't… make it down… stairs…."

If Natasha replied, he did not hear her. He let his head fall against the cool, wet metal and let the grayness overtake his vision.

~~~~~~~~~~

48 hours later found Clint lying on a bed in S.H.E.I.L.D. medical with broken ribs and and a confirmed case of pneumonia. He was drifting in and out of consciousness from the drugs they were giving him, but his ears perked up when he heard Natasha arguing with someone nearby.

"He's stable. Not on oxygen. Fever is controlled. He can tolerate oral meds. There's no reason he needs to stay. I promise you, he won't recover while he's here. You need to discharge him home."

The haughty-looking orderly she was speaking with huffed angrily, muttering about shortness of breath and heart rate and changing oxygen requirements.

Clint let himself drift off again to the sound of their voices, trusting his partner to deal with the situation. A cool hand on his cheek awakened him a little while later. He blearily opened his eyes to meet Natasha's, for of course it was she that had roused him.

"We're busting you out of here," she whispered with a little smile. "They're bringing a wheelchair now."

"Thangk god," Clint groaned. "And thangk *you*, 'Tash. You're a lifesaver."

"Eh, you've saved my life plenty of times too. I think we're pretty even."

It took some maneuvering to get a very breathless, battered, and achy Clint out of the bed and into the wheelchair, but they managed it with minimal damage. Once he was settled in the chair, Natasha wheeled him away to their rooms.

Inside Clint's suite, they again had to coordinate getting him from the chair to his bed. Natasha was grateful Clint's pain tolerance was high, because she knew the transfer was far rougher without the assistance of the medical staff. He didn't make a sound throughout the process however, though his face was drawn in pain. As soon as he was settled though, he let out the breath he'd been holding in a rush, which quickly became a nasty coughing fit. He had trouble catching his breath for several moments even after the fit ended. He gasped and wheezed and clutched his ribs, sweaty and reddened and miserable. Natasha could only watch helplessly, stroking his hair to try to help him relax.

"Damn Fury," he croaked weakly when he could finally speak. "This fugcking sucks. "

"Language, please. But I can't argue with you there."

"I'mb gonna kill himb for sending me od thad mission."

"I think he got his just desserts since now his best archer is out of commission for a few months. But at least it seems like the sneezy part of your cold is better."

"You h- had to s- hih- say sumbthing, dih- dn't you?" Clint croaked, gingerly bracing his ribs as his breath scissored and his red nose twitched:

"Gih'tsschh! Ghhnxt'chf! Oh Fugck. Ow! Ow ow ow...." Clint groaned, gritting his teeth, eyes squeezed shut in pain. "Not doing that again."

"Yeah, stifling is probably not wise. Poor sick guy," Natasha murmured, carding his hair with her fingers as they waited for Clint's pain to subside.

After a moment, Clint opened one eye, looking suspicious. " 'Poor sigck guy?' Who are you and what have you done with mby partner?"

Natasha smirked as she sat on the edge of his bed. "Would you prefer I call you a whiny asshole?"

"Yes. Maybe. I dunno," Clint mumbled with a weary sigh and a grimace of pain as he exhaled.

"Well too bad for you, because right now *my* partner is sick and miserable and I plan to baby him at least a little until he's feeling better."

"Guess I'mb nodt complainig," Clint mumbled, stifling a cough, which only made him clutch his ribs in pain. "Hurts whed I cough. Hurts whed I try not to cough. Fugck me."

"Language, seriously. But what can I do to help? You need water, food, drugs, anything?"

"Nodt hungry or thirsty. Too sood for drugs. I just want to sleeb, 'Tash."

"That sounds like a good plan. I'll leave you be then. But I'll be back to check on you soon." She stood up right away, fussing around and tidying up his nightstand area before moving toward the door.

" 'Tash?"

She turned expectantly.

" 'm still cold," he mumbled thickly, looking pale and weary now.

Her face softened affectionately. "Well you're still running a fever, hotshot. You're gonna feel cold."

He groaned pathetically. She moved to his side once more.

"Aww, you're shivering," she murmured, stroking his cheek.

"Told you, I'mb freezing…."

She sighed, looking at him fondly. "Is this you trying to say that you need some extra body heat in bed with you for a while?"

He looked at her pleadingly.

"Okay, okay, no more puppy eyes. I'm coming. But if you get me sick--"

"I know, I know, you'll kill mbe. I'll try ndot to share."

"That's all I ask." She kicked off her shoes and slid into bed beside him, doing her best to jostle around as little as possible. They carefully arranged themselves so that Clint was tucked against Natasha, most of his weight resting against her, while her weight was against the stack of pillows behind them. This position seemed to cause the archer the least pain, and in fact he relaxed against her right away, his breathing deepening.

" I'mb sorry I'mb so warmb. You'll probably swelter," mumbled Clint sleepily.

"It's not the first time I've slept with you when you're running a fever, and I'm sure it won't be the last. As long as you're warm enough."

"Am now," he breathed, nearly asleep.

"Then that's all that matters to me."

#sicktember2021 #sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #prompt 1

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nina-wrote-this · 4 years ago

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Last Romance - One Shot.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You move on after Thanos’s Snap, but a ghost from the past still wants to make things right.

Warnings: Sadness, break up and a lot of melancholic ;)

Word count: 1,555

A/N: Hello, loveees! So, this is my first Bucky One Shot and I have this idea after having a dream with Sebastian Stan :) I also used two songs as inspiration: Long Break – Moody Woody and Último Romance / Last Romance – Los Hermanos (they are my favorite Alt-Rock Brazilian band). I’ll put the links below the GIF and if you want to listen while read, it will be an even better experience! I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think! If you find any typos, please let me know (English isn’t my mother tongue)!

INFINITY WAR AND ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD!

Song’s links: Long Break - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGh_Iyw6fgI | Último Romance - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27TT85GA9VM

Telluride, Colorado.

2 years after they come back.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bradley! Have a good night!” You gently said getting the heavy paper bags with all the fresh ingredients for your wedding anniversary.

“For you too, Darling! Enjoy your husband!” The old lady smirks.

“You can count on that!”

Your life was perfect now. After Stark’s death and all the story with Thanos, most part of the heroes and allies decide to get there retire, and you are one of this people.

You cross the country moving from the Avengers compound to a small town in Colorado, laying down your weapons and abilities and getting your brushes and canvas. At somehow, you were still trying to save people, but now using art.

And you have him. The man who give you more than you expect: love, safety, partnership and calm. Blake was amazing. You two rebuild yourselves together when everything happened.

Blake used to be an Interpol agent and his wife and daughter died in a car crash when the Snap happened, there uber's driver faded away and the car fell off a cliff.

You two found each other in the help group Steve used to organized. You moved in together, you grow together, you cried together and fight together against your own demons. Blake supported your decision to risk your life on the time travel and fight the battle even knowing that the first man you ever loved would come back. Blake would love you regardless of the choice you would have made.

And you choose Blake, he was your future.

You drive through the shy suburb of the small town, and thank for being there.

At the end of the street, was your house. A yellow wood little house in the middle of a large grassy rectangle, surrounded by hibiscus and white roses.

Soon you get in, you start putting your plans in action. Pasta, broccoli, tomatoes, lettuce, Blake's favorite – weird – cheese, 3 bottles of wine. Cut, cook, wash, decorate, another glass of wine… shit, I can’t get high yet.

The music that was playing on the living room suddenly stopped and a strange familiar metal sound came to your ears.

After years surrounded by wars, crazy insane Titans, Hydra and Shield, your mind was pretty fucked up. So, yes, a nosy sound was something to worry about.

You walked slowly following what was bordering your thoughts, but you didn’t have to do too much. Just few steps, and you see him in the corner of the room. I’ll always be in the shadows, babe. The memory of his voice hits your mind like a shoot.

“You scare me…” You took one last sip of your wine.

“Your place is beautiful.” His eyes were haunted and his voice come out like a whisper.

You nodded smiling.

“How are you?” He tried to approach but stopped himself.

“Good. You know, retirement does me good.” You cross your arms, protecting yourself from your old feelings. “And you, how have you been? Still living in Wakanda?”

He faced the floor taking a deep breath.

“I… I left Wakanda right after you…” He hesitated and you knew why. “I'm working with Sam now.”

You try to keep smiling, but your eyes meet with his, and you could read them like an open book: He was broken.

James has a fucked up brain, he has his issues and Hydra problems, but the way he looked like now was something deeper. Years before, you saw this same look but was in your own eyes, every damn day, when you woke up and see yourself on the mirror.

He was alone, he missed you.

“James, say it.” You broke the silence and he frowned. “You invade my house at the exact moment my husband isn’t. The only thing that motivated you to came here is because you probably have something to say. So, please… Just say it!”

“I miss you!” He didn’t even search for the right words. “And I want you back. I need you back!”

“Don't!” You turn your back to him walking back to the kitchen. “Don't tell me you come here today to say this after all these two years, James.”

For the first time he come closer to you.

“What did you expect?” He asked confuse. “Y/N, do you really think I'm doing this for fun? You know this isn't easy for me, talk about these things, and I know you can read me easily than anyone.” He said fast.

“James, I know you're in pain. But, if is hard for you, believe me, it’s two times harder for me.” You point your finger to him. "For you was like fall asleep for a couple of hours, but for us, for me, was and still being an eternity.” Tears already falling in the corner of your eyes.

“So, what was the purpose, Y/N? Bring me back, so you could feel good to yourself and return to your happy fake life?” His voice sounded disappointed and his metal arm fisted against the sink. “эгоистичный!”

Your heart broke in little pieces and the control was gone.

"Don't you dare call me selfish!" Your voice was cracking and the regret filled his eyes. "Did you really think that I left you because I don't love you anymore?"

He took a long breath, and you try to hide your tears.

“You still love me?” He gets closer to you without losing the fragile eye contact.

“Is this matter now?” Your eyes break the contact running the kitchen and your hands falling down in redemption. “Don’t hurt yourself, моя любовь.” You asked.

He placed his hands on each side of your face and bring to his chest. The cold of the leather jacket in contact with your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

Even knowing this was – at somehow – wrong, you let yourself relax on his embracing. James was warm, his muscles created a protective barrier around you and his fingers caressed your body looking for all the parts where your skin were naked for him. Your arms crossed around his neck and on tiptoes you barred your face on his shoulder.

“You cut your hair…” Your cracking voice whisper to him trying to break the tension, while you run your hand through his hair strands.

“Like you always suggest.” He smirked bringing you to face him. Yours foreheads touched and his eyes found your soul. “Come back, Y/N! I do anything to have you back, моя любовь…” His lips brushed against yours. “Whatever you want, just tell me, and we will do it, okay?”

For a couple of seconds, you imagined your life with James. Maybe both of you living in a big farm, waking up together, getting back the time you two lost. Kisses, shy touches, his overprotection full time, your crazy manias and his strange neuroses. Was perfect. Was much better than the time you guys lived in Wakanda.

But was too late.

You were sure you didn’t take the break up decision alone. You have asked him what life he wanted for himself and he choose to continue Steve's legacy, but you wasn’t available to live that kind of life anymore. Follow different ways was the best decision.

He tried to kiss you hardly, but you get back.

“I can’t, James…” You grabbed his black shit. “We can’t…” He closed his eyes and kissed your forehead. He felt the goodbye was happening again.

The car's engine rumbled on the garage bringing you back to reality. Blake was arriving home.

“Y/N, we can…” James tried, but you knew what you have to do.

“Go.” You direct to the backyard door. “Now!”

“Where is my beautiful, lovely, super hot wife?” Blake screamed at the front door.

James leaves the house without looking to you, without any noise.

You clean the tears of your face, put on the best happy face and waited for your husband get in the kitchen.

“There she is!” His sexy voice said.

You turn around and there was Blake: dressed with his Professor social attire, flowers in one hand.

Blake you’re perfect.

“Hello, Mister sexy voice!” You kissed him slowly and intense.

But you’re not James…

He gets his hands free and finally hold you spinning around ourselves.

“You okay, honey?” He took a look on your eyes. “Looks like you cried, or something like that… Is everything good?”

Blake is perfect.

“Yes, honey!” You smile shooking your head and squeezing your eyes. “It’s just the wine!”

But he is not James…

The living player come back with the song. Último Romance / Last Romance, Los Hermanos. Your honeymoon song.

“Right on time!” Blake automatically pressed his body against yours and start following the music melody, singing slowly.

“I love you, Y/N. Happy wedding anniversary!” He kissed your neck.

“I love you too, honey. Thanks for everything…” You rest your head on his shoulder.

You two stayed on that moment, seams like forever. When your eyes find the kitchen’s window you locked on James's eyes, staring your perfect moment.

“E ninguém dirá que é tarde demais / And no one will say it’s too late

Que é tão diferente assim / That’s so different

Do nosso amor a gente é que sabe / About our love, is us who knows”

*******************************************************************************************

A/N: What you guys think about some continues of this one shot? Maybe like, Y/N and Bucky's time living in Wakanda, or Y/N’s wedding day, Y/N and Bucky’s break up... I really enjoy write this story ahahahah :)

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longitud-de-onda · 5 years ago

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piece of your heart

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; javi takes you out dancing and drunkenly starts saying things in spanish that you can’t understand rating; t warnings; alcohol, drunkenness (and the vomiting that comes after), unrequited feelings (or not?), and angst. word count; 2.4k requested; by two anons. requests under break. a/n; combined these two requests and wrote this on a plane. there’ll be a part two 😉

“javi request where he takes the reader dancing 🥺 something similar to the dance in 3x1 of narcos thank u sm and ur the best !! 💖”

“You are at a bar after work with Steve and Javi. Javi asks you to dance with him. He is drunk & kind of grinding on you and he starts to say some things in Spanish. You don't speak Spanish very well, and assume he is saying lewd things, but when you go home, you remember some of the things he said and you put them in Google Translate and he is actually confessing really sweet things like he loves you, you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, an he is so screwed.”

“So, tonight? Wanna go out dancing with some of the others?” Javier has just walked up to your desk and sat on top of your work, staring you down.

“Dancing? No thanks,” you tell Javier.

Going out dancing with Javier Peña? That involved alcohol and lowered inhibitions and you aren’t ready to do that. You’ll admit, having him here, asking you to go dancing with him, it hurts. You can imagine in another life, one where you weren’t living in Colombia and meddling with international politics in a way even the US President would likely disapprove of, you could be brave, step up and tell Javi how you felt. But you were both in a line of work that didn’t allow for relationships, and catching feelings was the worst illness that could befall you.

And you had caught the virus.

“Come on, it’s been a hell of a week for everyone. There’s about seven of us, going over to the disco downtown, we can get plastered, forget about work, have a bit of fun?” he smiles at you, and you shake your head.

“Not tonight, Javi,” you say. “Anyway, it’s Friday, and we work tomorrow.”

You’ve said yes before. That night sucked. You watched him flirt with every woman in the bar, watched him make out with a young woman in a booth. You cried the entire drive home, and on your way up to your apartment, you passed his first-floor apartment and could hear the moans coming from inside. There was nothing crueler than wanting someone you couldn’t have, someone who would sleep with anyone, except you.

The feeling had weighed heavy on your heart for a long time now, and while it was easy to avoid the man, given that you worked in different departments, he managed to find a reason to visit you. Sneaking him classified documents. Helping him with a wiretap. Doing background checks. And every time he asked you’d comply if only to get a few extra minutes of his presence. A bit more time where that smile was directed at you and not one of the many other women in the building. A few moments where you could pretend that he cared.

“You sure? It’s not really a night without my favorite CIA agent,” he says, putting on the sly grin he uses to bend anyone’s will. The one he uses to get informants to reveal a bit more than they intended.

You want, so badly, to say no. To not force yourself to survive another night of suffering. But you’re weak and probably a masochist. And there’s the fact that he’s asking you, begging you, to come with him. To spend time with him. Even if it means you’ll end the night in tears, historically you’ve never been one to turn down time with Javier, no matter how much it hurt, and you weren’t going to stop tonight.

“Fine, but you’re buying the first round,” you agree.

“Good!” He jumps off of your desk. “It’s gonna be great. See you at eight.”

“Eight, okay...”

He leaves the room, a bit more bounce in his gait, and you smile to yourself, knowing that you were the reason for his excitement.

The day passed slowly, you had too many reports to read through and not enough coffee could keep you going. When you finished for the day, you were one of the last ones still in the office, and you headed home, looking forward to a shower and some warmed up leftovers for dinner.

You don’t have plans to drink too much. You don’t want to be hungover at work, and you had a tendency to spill secrets when wasted. With Javier around, that wasn’t something you wanted to get involved with. Still, you make sure you’ve got enough food in your stomach and drink some water so that the inevitable multitudes of shots you’ll be coerced into drinking don’t go straight to your head.

At eight, you’re waiting in the foyer of the complex, along with Steve, Connie, Marta, the current ambassador’s secretary, and Anthony, one of the other DEA agents that lived in the complex. You were going to be meeting another 5, apparently, at the disco. It was turning into quite the evening, especially considering that you had work the next day. You were told the plan was to take two cars over, so two groups could head back whenever, and if you were too drunk, it was close enough you could probably walk or just take a taxi if things went south.

Javi is obviously rushing as he bursts out of his apartment, still buttoning up his shirt. You let your eyes roam over him from the back of the group. He had put some effort into the look for the evening, a nice pair of slacks than he usually wore, and he had done something with his hair.

It makes you feel more than a bit self-conscious of how unimpressive you look before you mentally slap yourself. You’re not here to impress Javier. You don’t need to put in an effort, even if you did he still wouldn’t go for you.

“Ready?” Javier asks, and you all exit the building.

Two hours into the evening, you’re sufficiently tipsy after a couple beers. You had resisted Connie’s multiple offers of shots, but you didn’t stop her from dragging you onto the dance floor for a solid hour. You’re sweaty and a bit tired already, back at the bar where some of the guys in your group are gathered.

You watch as Javier starts knocking back shots of tequila with Anthony, something you weren’t expecting. He was always the one to slowly sip at a glass of whiskey over the night, or drink beer. He must really want to get drunk tonight.

You slip onto a barstool and order a bottle of beer. Javier is a couple feet away, and he’s already acting like he’s lost all control, and you worry about his fate in the morning. He wasn’t usually this careless with his alcohol.

He sidles up next to you, “Y/N! We should go dance.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, trying to pull you up off your seat.

“Javi, no,” you say. You should be jumping for joy. Happy that he actually wants to spend time with you. But you know that it’s only because he’s so incredibly drunk.

“Please, darling? I didn’t invite you out so that you could sit here.” he drawls out, his Texas accent appears in moments like this, and you wish it didn’t make you feel things.

He drags his hand down your bare arm, wrapping his fingers around your hand and pulling you up.

“Okay.” You must hate yourself.

He pulls you through the crowds into the center of the dance floor. Arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you yelp in surprise.

“¿Todo bien, compañera?” he laughs in your ear, something light and fluttery.

“Javi you know I don’t speak Spanish,” you say, bowing your head.

“You should, it would sound so beautiful coming from you,” he says and you close your eyes, reminding yourself that he’s so far gone he doesn’t know what he’s saying.

He starts to sway to the music, and his hands on your waist radiate heat straight through your dress. The whole disco is hot, but you feel even warmer wrapped up in Javier. The music thrums through your body, and you look up at his eyes, glittering with the almost-goofy smile he wears.

You want to imagine that this is real. That he’s here, hands all over you, because he wants to. You wish you could move your hands down from around his neck, or pull him in tighter, and not regret it tomorrow morning. You know you’re going to wake up tomorrow alone in bed, remembering how much could have happened if Javier cared, and that he will wake up, probably with someone else, someone who’s in this very room right now.

That thought almost makes you let go of Javier and run away, but he pulls your hips into his, rolling up against you. He lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core, and you close your eyes tight, hoping you’ll open them again for this to be just a dream.

Instead, you open them at the feeling of his breath, hot near your ear.

“Eres tan hermosa, Y/N,” he says.

You don’t know a word he’s saying but you’re pretty sure you have an idea of what he means. He’s grinding up against you, drunk and probably horny, like he is most nights, the words likely meaning something about how he’d like to take you here on the dance floor. Something disgusting and quick and meaningless.

“Me vuelves loco.”

But you’re too tipsy to get caught up on that. You want to pretend he’s saying anything but what you know he’s going on about. Want to pretend his arms aren’t slinking lower down your back until they brush over your ass. You want to believe he’s doing it because he wants to.

You decide it’s better to let go for the night. Maybe you can pretend. Just for an hour.

The music washes over you, and you move your hips along with his, and while he takes the lead, you follow, dancing as if you knew what you were doing.

“Cuando bailas así, no quiero que todos estén aquí,” he groans, “Quiero estar a solas contigo.”

If only you knew what he was saying. If you knew exactly what sort of lewd things he is saying, maybe it would be enough to knock some sense into your head and leave him on the dance floor. But you don’t.

Thank god you don’t.

It means you get to dance in his arms for a little bit more.

“No sabes, porque tu español es una mierda, pero estoy con tantas mujeres para que pueda intentar olvidarte,” he says, “Es tortura, tener alguién tan perfecta como tú, tan cerca, pero tan inalcanzable.”

When he speaks Spanish, he sounds so different. Sometimes, like now, it’s like he’s reciting a love poem. Other times, like when you hear him talking to the police, he becomes someone commanding and aggressive. Not like the Javier who spoke English to you, smiled, and sheepishly asked for favors.

“Nunca ha funcionado, no puedo olvidarte,” he says.

“Javi, you know I don’t understand you, right?” you say and he responds by thrusting his hips into you again. You bite your lip, and it only becomes more painful as you feel his bulge against your body. You’re just another body for him. And that is a sobering realization. You’re about to cry and you’re glad he’s looking over your shoulder and can’t see your face.

“Deseo poder besarte,” he whispers in your ear, “Te quiero.”

You were so stupid to fall for such a man. It’s killing you.

With one hand still on your ass, he brings the other one up, palming your breast. The moan you involuntarily release shocks you enough to push him away.

“Javier,” you say, panicking, “I can’t—“

Before you say anything more you see the twisted look on his face, somewhere between completely ravaged and utterly lost. You turn and, pushing through people, go back to the bar, where you order a shot which you quickly down before sitting down and letting the tears fall.

After fifteen minutes of looking like the saddest person in the disco, the bartender takes pity on you and gives you a glass of water and some tissues. You thank her.

The night had so quickly turned to shit. It was so much worse than previous ones. It was a torture you couldn’t handle anymore.

“Y/N!” screams a voice in your ear, someone drunk and loud.

You turn. It’s Marta.

“What?”

“It’s Javier, he’s outside puking. You’re the soberest of us you need to take him home.”

Shit. Of course this would happen.

“Fine, but take care, Marta, I don’t want you not making it home tonight.”

She thanks you and disappears into the throngs of people.

You settle your tab and Javier’s and go outside. Javier is sitting on the curb, keeled over and emptying his guts onto the stone streets.

If your heart didn’t hurt so much, you’d laugh. You hadn’t known anyone over the age of 30 drunk themselves to this point.

“Javier?” you say.

He looks up and starts to say something, but you can see the regret on his face flash upon opening his mouth as it only brings on another wave of nausea. You look away.

When he finishes, you say, “Come on, Javi, let's get you home.”

He tries to stand and you have to dive into his side to stabilize him. When you’re in a position where you can support his weight, you guide him towards his car.

You strap him into the passenger seat and reach your hand into his pocket, finding the car keys.

The ride home he stays silent. He hasn’t said a word to you since he was whispering in your ear on the dance floor. You suppose he has a fair reason to not open his mouth now though. Probably doesn’t want to soil his own vehicle.

You get him into his apartment just fine, set him up with a glass of water and make him take some pain meds.

“Don’t die on me Javi, no choking on your vomit overnight, okay?” you say and he nods.

Back in your apartment, you sit down on your couch. You should go to sleep. You need to be at work in 7 hours.

But some vicious part of your mind reminds you of the words Javier had said. You curse your curiosity and pull out your Spanish dictionary.

You only remember three phrases, “quiero estar a solas contigo,” “deseo poder besarte,” and “te quiero.”

As you look up the words, your eyes widen. Quiero: I want. Estar: To be. Solas: alone. Contigo: with you.

Shit.

Deseo: I wish. Poder: to be able to. Besarte: to kiss you.

Fuck.

The last one requires you to look it up in the phrasebook. ‘I want you’ didn’t feel right. When you find it you almost drop the book on the floor.

Te quiero: I love you.

next part

translations;

¿Todo bien, compañera?

Everything okay, partner/colleague/girlfriend?

Eres tan hermosa

You are so beautiful

Me vuelves loco.

You drive me crazy

Cuando bailas así, no quiero que todos estén aquí. Quiero estar a solas contigo.

When you dance like that, I don’t want everyone to be here. I want to be alone with you.

No sabes, porque tu español es una mierda, pero estoy con tantas mujeres para que pueda intentar olvidarte

You don’t know because your Spanish sucks, but I’m with so many women so I can try to forget you

Es tortura, tener alguién tan perfecta como tú, tan cerca, pero tan inalcanzable.

It’s torture, having someone as perfect as you, so close, yet so unreachable.

Nunca ha funcionado, no puedo olvidarte

It’s never worked, I can’t forget you

Deseo poder besarte

I wish I could kiss you

Te quiero.

I love you

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @turquiosenights @el-lizzie

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #camila writes #rated t #under 5 #reader #angst #pedro fics #narcos fics #javi x reader

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jamespotterthefirst · 3 years ago

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Did you read the new chapters of D:ALS? Tell us your thoughts on the last available chapter, Vlad's 💎 scene. Please queen! I live for the delicious angst mixed with fluffy feelings . I can't wait to pounce on him and fuck his brains out and see what centuries worth of longing will look like. I'm already mining the crap out of every available series just so that I can pay the 6969 💎 that scene will probably cost.

Have a great day lovely Bree. I hope this week goes better ♥️

P.S: estoy escuchando on repeat Hasta que me olvides y Entrégate de LuisMi y fuck si no me hace pensar en este fictional vampire 😭

I haven't played yet because the next update is in October 😭 So I want to savor this lol. I also wanna wait for the walk-through lol

I am reserving 1K 💎 for Vlad to fuck me into next century. It's my Thirst Fund.

I’m a Thirst Fund Baby.

ANÓNIMO DE MI CORAZÓN QUIEN ERES??

Vlad and Luis Miguel?!

Nfiririekdns I finally found someone who can listen to emo Spanish songs over fictional men with me. I love you ❤️

Babe, those songs though 😭 Entrégate especially. When he says “mi prisionera” I’m like “Yes.”

Por Debajo de la Mesa though

That has to be the best love song ever written. And it applies to Vlad and Mc to fjdkdkskwi (it applies to all my otps but still)

Y es que no sabes lo que tú me haces sentir Que no hay momento que yo pueda estar sin ti Me absorbes el espacio, despacio me haces tuyo Muere el orgullo en mí Y es que no puedo estar, sin ti

IMAGINE FEELING THIS FOR CENTURIES AJLKSDLKSJDLKSAJDLK ME MUERO

#ANON REVEAL WHEN #KSDLKSDJFLDSJFLK #I LOVE YOU #dracula: a love story #RC Vlad #Romance club

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cienie-isengardu · 3 years ago

Note

have you ever read darth vader (2020) and knights of the old republic? if so, what do you think of them?

Yes, I had a chance to read both. Knights of the Old Republic (2006-2010) is a pretty good and fun series that I enjoyed overall even though I did read it mainly for ancient Mandalorians (and oh boy, they are my personal weakness). There is an intriguing worldbuilding that nicely connects past events (The Sith War) with current, ongoing war and a bunch of interesting (if not morally ambiguous) characters, like Gryph who never fails to amuse me and his teamwork with Zayne is both hilarious and heartwarming. In all honesty, there are some issues I’m more likely to skip over than others while rereading KotOR but the story in itself is a solid piece with enough drama and humor to keep me entertained. Of course being set in a timeline then barely exploited gave KotOR a big advantage over most star wars stories, because lack of a stiff framework gave a lot of freedom to creators.

In contrast, my feelings about Darth Vader (2020) comics series are mixed to say the least. Partially, because I’m very picky when it comes to Vader and his characterization, partially because the series is still an ongoing thing and so I may change my mind about it again at some point. Like, the first arc, Dark Heart of the Sith in my opinion was pretty good - not perfect because there were things I definitively despite (like the whole deal with Padme sending her people to free Shmi, which doesn’t make much sense in the context of the Prequels and frankly, I’m tired by New Canon tendency of trying make Padme some saint or whatever) and some I wished to not happen at all (the fate of the poor droid, what a shame, Vader always get the most interesting droids to work with). But overall? It was so nice to see prequel characters being acknowledged. I liked how Vader’s troopers didn’t speak basic and the interaction between Vader, the droid and older Sabe was amusing. It is not the first story that dealt with Vader’s past and the effect Padme’s death had on him and most likely not the last, but the comics did a good job of connecting Prequels with the current storyline and so far was one of better Marvel comics about Vader I read. But then we have another arc, Into the Fire and the future part of Bounty Hunter Was and… yeah. Here comes back the typical Disney/Marvel storyline of “hardship” that is just coarse (vulgar) abuse of Vader. And this is where my good feelings about this particular series end. After the last six years of Marvel star wars I’m so, so tired of this repetitive bullshit. It seems like every Darth Vader series/storyline must have at least one scene when the man's body is literally ripped apart and this is not only disrespectful for the iconic character, but most of all boring and uncreative as hell. At this point, I’m more checking what is going on in the current series as a matter of principle rather than for the pure joy of reading about my favorite character. I strongly believe that every source, even the one passionately disliked by me, has something interesting and good to offer, but no matter how hard I try, Marvel/Disney star wars does not work for me the way Legends did. I simply don’t like the new approach to Vader as a character and if not for his sporadic relationship with sergeant Kreel, queen Trios or even doctor Aphra, I feel like I could give up reading Marvel star wars altogether. I still hope the upcoming issues will change my mind but, like Tor Vizsla said, hope is overrated. And… that is exactly how I feel about Darth Vader (2020) right now.

#star wars #my replies #knights of the old republic #darth vader (2020)#marvel star wars frustrate me hell too much :(

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sandsofoneiros · 3 years ago

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No Light, No Light.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything in this other than Ro and Seraphine. Empress is @thembohux oc. Also, you'll be reading this while I'm on vacation! So, I won't get to discuss anything until I get back!

Description: The one where Poe is in the First Order and Senator Citlali doesn't want him around her. Could feelings grow between them? Let's find out.

Word count: 4941.

Warning: Slight mention of anxiety, using the word blood, and there's the use of blasters. Some cursing as well.

Tagging: Lemme know after you read it if you want to be tagged.

Chapter One: In The Presence of Enemies.

Three Days before. . . .

The Senator stood beside the young Queen as they watched another transport shuffle load up with more of the Nabooians. It was a bittersweet moment that shouldn’t be happening. These individuals shouldn’t be asked to leave their homes and their lives behind, but this was for this safety. This was for the future of Naboo. The Final Order was on their way to claim the planet, but Naboo was more than that. So much more. This still caused a dull ache in Ro’s heart as she watched her own family load up on the transport. Her sister’s eyes were puffy and red from their last goodbye. Her arms were full of the last dresses that had created in the Citlali dress shop. Her aunt Eira was doing her best to stay strong for Thalia. This shouldn’t be happening. The Resistance should be here stopping the Final Order. The New Republic should be here to help them, but neither had come. Now, her planet belonged to the Final Order. Her family would be safe, but she couldn’t say the same to herself. She had decided the moment Queen Seraphine had told them about the evacuation that she would remain. They had dressed the Queen in her black dress that was inspired by the dress that was once worn by the handmaiden, Sabe. Seraphine had told Ro that it was the highest honor to wear the dress as she helped her people. Ro, in return, had dressed like one of her handmaidens instead of her usual senator attire. She wore the dress that was orange velvet with the red hood today. To know that it was Padme’s blood taking over the planet made her even more upset. What would the former Queen say if she were here now? Would she tell them to fight? Would she tell them not to lose hope? Ro had always looked up to Senator Amidala since she was young and had been the whole reason she had pursued this career. Yet, here she stood watching the world around her fall apart, and she didn’t know what she could do.

“Any falcons in the skies?” Seraphine finally asked before glancing up at the Senator. They had spoken in code to keep any unwanted listeners from learning anything private.

“No, but we hear there are foxes in the woods,” Ro answered back before shaking her head. The falcons meant TIE fighters and foxes were the troopers on the ground. There had been no TIES today, which struck her as odd. The TIES had been flying overhead since Emperor Ren sent the transmission that he would take Naboo for the Final Order. The TIES were to keep any unwanted visitors away and also to stop any type of uprising. Storm Troopers had arrived the day after and patrolled the grounds. They didn’t interfere with people who were leaving the planet but made sure that the ones who were staying understood that they wouldn’t tolerate anyone starting trouble. Hearing them march or hearing the TIEs fly overhead made Ro’s stomach churn, and she would fight not to become sick. She never thought that certain sounds would ever make her sick. It almost made her feel embarrassed. She couldn’t show fear. Ro wouldn’t allow the Final Order to see her fear. The senator wondered if there would ever be a chance that everyone could return to Naboo. They should fight, but they wouldn’t stand a chance against Emperor Ren and his forces.

“I know you want to fight, Senator Citlali. I see the fire in your eyes.” Seraphine stated as she looked over at the woman standing beside her. She admired Aurora in the short time that she had gotten to know her. She had become like an older sister to her, but now that her own family had left, Aurora was the only family she had left. Seraphine clung more and more to the woman in these last days, where the future was unknown to them.

“Forgive me, m’lady. I simply don’t want to lose our home.” Ro’s fingers twitched at her side as she watched the transport shuttles close and departed. This would be the last transport for Naboo. There weren’t many left now. Just the ones who were too stubborn to leave, and no one dared fight them. They had been through too much to just leave their home. No one had ever told her the surrendering was hard. No one had ever told her that surrendering would make a wildfire spread through her body.

“Shall we take a walk?”

“Of course, m’lady.”

The arrival. . . .

They had spent all night preparing for this moment and no matter how much they smiled or laughed; it didn’t ease their fears. Ro had spent most of the morning preparing the Queen for their guests. They dressed her in a replica of Queen Amidala’s gown. The queen had worn the crimson and black dress when she had met with the Trade Federation so long ago. Seraphine had hoped that she would channel the beloved Queen’s bravery, but so far she felt even more scared. Adding the headdress had been the hardest part for Ro. Glancing in the mirror, she sighed. This would be the last time that she would ever wear this or any of her other gowns. Ro had sworn it wouldn’t but the young queen knew the truth. She was going to accept it. Senator Citlali had left alone to finish getting ready. This was the last time that they would be home. One last look in the mirror, Seraphine nodded at herself and turned to leave the room. She would meet Aurora in the throne room, where they would wait for the Final Order to arrive.

Senator Citlali stared at herself in the mirror. Her long hair braided and resting over her left shoulder. Dressed in a long black saffron dress, the plunging neckline opening of her dress that stopped just a little above her belly button revealed her black bra underneath. The light golden details showed the lace details on the bra itself. She would wear the black drape around her shoulders. She looked as if she was mourning, and she was. Her fingers stroked the pendant that rested at the bottom of her necklace. It could easily be mistaken for just a simple necklace, but there was a much more sinister purpose. One that she hadn’t even told the Queen about. This was just a precaution. This was if things became too much and Ro couldn’t believe that she had let herself do this. Aurora wanted to believe that maybe something would go differently today when they arrived, but that was a cruel lie that she was telling herself. Slipping on the ebony sandal that had thin straps that went to her ankles, Ro reached for the black drape that had the same gold stitching as her bra. The last thing she grabbed was the blaster and kept it covered. It was time.

The Queen sat on her throne with the Senator sitting beside her. It had been quiet for the longest time until Seraphine watched Ro. The woman was sitting straight up with her leg crossed over the other. Looking at the white polish on her nails that Seraphine had done last night. However, her outfit had caught the Queen off guard.

“Are you planning on seducing the Final Order, Senator?” Seraphine chuckled. She knew the question was going to catch Ro off guard and hearing the Senator laugh was better than the silence they had been sitting in.

“Seducing the Emperor? The Empress would have my head. No, I thought I would just woo a trooper and take his blaster. A daring escape.” Smirking, she uncrossed her leg and winked at the young girl. She could only imagine what she was feeling in these moments, the weight that had been on her shoulders, and now it was being lifted in a way. She reached her hand out to take Seraphina’s and gave it a squeeze. They only had each other now, and it might not be for too much longer. The Final Order could do whatever they wanted when they got here, but they weren’t alone.

“Show them no fear, m’lady.”

xxxx

Captain Dameron and his squadron were the first to land, and Poe was more than happy to stretch his legs. Storm Troopers were already crowding around him to give him their reports and he only half-heartedly listens to them. It wasn’t their fault for simply doing their duty, but he had other things on his mind. He had been securing the area before Emperor Ren’s boot touched the soil of Naboo. His eyes scanned over the capital and stopped at the sight of the palace. Was it checked recently?

“Is the palace cleared out? What about the Queen?” Captain Dameron asked as he walked towards the palace. He didn’t want this to turn into a bloodbath the moment that they went into the palace. He was certain it wouldn’t end well for the rioting side.

“Queen Seraphine hasn’t left the planet along with another. We have identified the other individual with her as Senator Citlali, and they’re both in the palace. They haven’t left since the last transport.” The trooper spoke as Poe listened. So there was a fourteen-year-old girl and a senator in the palace? That wasn’t awful.

“What do we know about the Senator? Are they dangerous? Any ties to the Resistance?” Poe asked. He wanted to make there wasn’t anything that they weren’t walking into some trap. People did ridiculous things when they were desperate, and this time he didn’t want to shed any blood. He especially didn’t want to shed any blood in front of a teenage girl. He never understood why Naboo had always elected to have young Queens. He couldn’t imagine that being his daughter or even son. He would constantly be worried about them. The other thought that bothered him was that the family of the Queen had just left their daughter. They left her alone. That very well could be the reason the senator was still here.

“She doesn’t have any ties to the Resistance. No military training. She was born here. That’s all we know.”

That was reassuring. Not a threat to him or anyone else. It was time for them to make their way to the palace to do one more last sweep, and then he would report back to Kylo that it was safe for his arrival. However, Kylo had nothing to fear, anyway. He could easily eliminate any threat that even attempted some attack. However, Poe knew this was a precaution. This was to make sure that nothing went wrong. He would give the Emperor hell for doing his dirty work one day. It was always nice to be the childhood friend of the Emperor and Empress. It always helped that he was on the good side of the most high-ranking officials of the Order. However, he knew there were officers and others that questioned his loyalty. They thought he would turn traitor at the moment that it benefited him. That moment had never come. Poe was well aware of what they whispered the moment his back turned. He wanted to think that they were merely jealous. He was one of the greatest pilots in the entire galaxy, and he was in the good graces of the Order’s top command. Most didn’t know the bond that they all shared. How they were practically family. How he will do anything to make sure that not only were they safe but also the galaxy. They were his family.

The walk to the palace was taking longer than he expected, but his droid had joined him not long after. The droid was better company than some troopers that marched beside him. The area surrounding the palace was just as remarkable as the royal palace itself. No wonder Kylo had insisted on claiming this planet. Although he wasn’t enjoying how quiet it was. He knew that there had been an evacuation the days prior, but he had caught glimpses of faces in the windows of what he thought were businesses. Poe hoped that in the future that he could see the streets bustling with people once more. He would love to see it thriving once again.

“One more sweep of the palace. Check everywhere. Meet me in the throne room when you’re done. If you come across anyone, bring them there and we’ll see what to do.” Poe ordered while the troopers nodded and scattered to start their sweep.

“Alright BB, let’s see what happens in that throne room. Kylo won’t mind me keeping the throne warm for him.” Poe smirked before scratching the shaved part of his undercut. It was getting long again. BB replied with several beeps that caused the pilot to laugh while they made their way to the throne room.

Upon entering the throne room, Poe wasn’t expecting two things. One, the two girls that were occupying it. Two the warning shots from the blaster that the woman had aimed at his feet. She was certainly an excellent shot, and it had stopped the captain in his tracks and even made BB move behind him. His hands were up in defense to keep her from taking another shot. His eyes scanned the room to look for anyone waiting to ambush them. His eyes landed on the young queen, that was gripping the edges of the armrests of the throne. Her knuckles were paling as she looked at the other woman. The Queen had sprung up to grab the free arm of the woman and whispered pleas not to shoot him. That had to be Senator Citlali. His gaze trailed up her form and noted the rather interesting dress that she wore. She had tossed the dark drape to the side that hid the blaster. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Was that a custom dress style for Nabooian women?

“Is that a traditional Naboo welcome, Senator?”

“It is for the tyrants and their dogs.”

“I was talking about the dress.”

Poe grinned, watching as Senator Citlali gripped the Queen’s hand tightly. She was certainly distracting. He couldn’t help but trail his eyes down the chain of the long necklace that she wore. The pendant meant nothing, but his eyes would wander even more to where his imagination could start. She still had the blaster pointed at him, and he was certainly in no position to be upsetting the woman. Yet, a sneaking suspension told him she wouldn’t do anything that would harm the Queen. Poe didn’t want to harm either of them. He wanted no more bloodshed, and especially not in front of a teenage girl. There had to be a way to calm the Senator down to talk, at least. Kylo might not be in such a forgiving mood when he got here.

“Senator Citlali, please lower your blaster. I’m not here to harm you or the Queen. You can trust me.” Poe kept his hands where she could still see them. He knew she would not believe him, and she had every right not to. He was the enemy. Her enemy. He had a hand in taking her home. The captain was surprised that she had given him a warning shot, she could have easily gotten a better shot. She could have taken him out, but she hadn’t. It was possible that she didn’t want to subject the Queen to such a sight. They were agreeing on one thing, it seemed. Making sure that they caused no more trauma to the young queen. They were doing their best to keep her in mind during this altercation between them.

“Trust the lapdog of the Final Order? Please tell me you understand why I have a hard time doing that.” She scoffed at him before guiding Seraphine behind her. She was serving as a shield for the young girl and was doing her best to be brave for her. The sounds of the marching Stormtroopers only got louder. A thin layer of sweat was forming on her brow, and she felt her stomach tighten once more with nerves. Her hand remains steady as she kept the blaster trained on him and her gaze was cold. There was no chance of her lowering it soon. The stand-off couldn’t go on much longer with the troopers making their way to the throne. That was all they needed. They would outnumber her, and she wouldn’t be able to keep Seraphine safe.

“I understand your hesitation but imagine the stormtrooper seeing this. You’ll have more on your hands. Just lower the blaster and we can talk. I won’t approach you yet.” He continued to keep his eyes on her. The troopers would only add more stress to this situation. People did crazy things in stressful situations. Her arm slowly lowed, and he gave her a small smile. She would listen, and that was a step in the right direction. However, the queen was hugging the senator tightly, and that caused her to wrap an arm around the teenage girl and nestle her into her side. Her walls were coming down as she whispered what Poe assumed were words of comfort.

“Don’t come any closer to us. I will shoot.” Ro warned him, as she let the blaster fall to the floor and completely wrap her arms around the queen. She had no plans to shoot him. She just wanted to calm Seraphine more than anything. The stormtroopers had cut their moment short upon their arrival into the throne room, blaster drawn. Poe could have screamed at all of them. The senator had swept the queen back behind her and went to reach for the blaster.

“Hey! Lower the weapons! She will not shoot!” Poe’s tone had changed, and he glared at all surrounding troopers. This throne room was getting too crowded for his liking and this was going to add more edge to the situation that he had been trying to handle previously. The senator would fall back into her fight-or-flight response, and Poe knew she was going to fight before ever running away. She was already proving how much of a fighter she was, and not with just her words. “The Emperor won’t enjoy having to hear my report about stormtroopers who disobeyed their commanding officer. Grand Marshal won’t like it either. Now, stand down and let me handle this.”

The troopers did as they were told, and Ro’s shoulder remained tense as she watched them. Seraphine hadn’t stopped shaking, and Ro continued to hold her tighter and tried to keep her calm. It wasn’t working. Her mind told her to reach for the blaster that rested behind her left foot, but that would be foolish, and she opened herself. Her best bet was to just let the captain actually do his job and listen to his offer. What was the worst that he could do or say? Her own heart had pounded in her chest, and she felt herself fighting back any tears that threatened to fall. Don’t show fear. Ro thought of her previous words. She wouldn’t show fear. The thought of why the captain was keeping his men from doing anything was looming in the back of her mind. He could easily save a harsh punishment for her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and counted to herself, hoping that she could ground herself again. It was hard to remain strong when she could feel herself breaking. The situation grows more intense with each passing second.

“Senator Citlali, I think it would be best if you came with us back to the Steadfast where we can discuss what will happen next.”

“I refuse to leave the Queen. We stay together.”

“I can make sure of that. Will you come peacefully or will I need to use binders?”

The mention of binders made Seraphine grip her dress tighter. Ro didn’t want to parade the poor girl around as if she was some prisoner. She didn’t want to look that way, either. Sighing, the senator realized that she would have to play nice with the enemy. She would have to be on her best behavior. Before she could answer, there was another sound of footsteps that were coming down the hallway. They echoed louder than what the stormtroopers had, and Ro knew without a doubt that Emperor Ren and his knights were here. . .

“Shit. I told him I would tell him when it was safe.”

Poe couldn’t help but groan as everyone in the room seemed to squirm. They all knew who was about to make his presence known, and that meant that anything could occur. The captain could only hope that Kylo would make anything worse. He figured that Empress would have told him to be on his best behavior while he was down here just in case. The room seemed to go older upon the Emperor and his knights stepping into the room. A slight shiver ran up Poe’s spine and he watched as everyone stood at attention for their leader. Exhaling through his nose, he waited to see what the man would say about his tardiness in contacting him. Still, his eyes remained on the Senator, who was doing her best not to fear what was to come. He wanted to promise her it would be alright. That Emperor Ren wasn’t looking to harm anyone. He wouldn’t Kylo do something so foolish. He watched as her fingers gripped the queen’s dress. Seraphine hadn’t even lifted her head up to see who was coming into her throne room. She wasn’t trying to be a Queen anymore; she was just a teenage girl. A scared teenage girl.

“Captain Dameron, you sent no communication. We were worried something had gone wrong.”

“Worried? I think you mean impatient, your highness.”

“Are these the prisoners?”

The word prisoners made Poe cringe a little. He hadn’t called them that and had even said he wouldn’t use binders on them. Kylo was making him look like a liar, and he could feel the glare from the senator on him. That wasn’t the way he wanted her to look at him. The knight stood close to him and their emperor. The silence of the room was deafening as they all waited to see what would happen.

“This is Queen Seraphine and Senator Citlali. I told them that if they came peacefully -”

“He wouldn’t put us in binders, but he’s a liar! Much like everyone in the Final Order.” Ro spat as she looks at them. His shoulders squared before moving Seraphine behind her once more. Poe knew what could happen, and he didn’t want to see that. He didn’t want Kylo to harm the woman who was just upset over what was going on. However, Poe knew Kylo didn’t have the best temper. He was in a tight spot.

“Your highness, I said that. I wanted to them see we weren’t so horrible. I kept her calm.” Poe continued, but he wasn’t sure if Kylo was listening behind his helmet. His umber eyes remain on the older woman to make sure that she wasn’t being touched by the Force. He would have to step in if Kylo tried to use it on her.

“Do you believe her to be harmless, Captain?” Kylo asked, before turning to face Poe. The captain already turning to face him. They trusted each other. Poe wasn’t entirely sure that Senator Citlali was harmless, but he didn’t want to be deemed a liar.

“Yes. I will escort her and the queen to the shuttle. I say we discuss everything back on the Steadfast. Both of them are clearly distressed about the situation.”

“Fine, take them to the shuttle and prepare to take them back to the Steadfast. I have matters to attend to here. I’ll keep my knights with me. Prepare the others to depart with you.” Kylo spoke, as Poe nodded his head.

“You heard your Emperor. Prepare to depart! Senator Citlali, Queen Seraphine, please come with me.” Poe held his hand out to the Senator. Her eyes held nothing but pure disgust before she took a few steps towards the exit, bowing to the Emperor. The Queen did the same and squeezed Ro’s hands as they left the room, leaving Poe alone with the Emperor. The men waited a few moments before Kylo took off his helmet, a gloved hand carding through his hair to push it back.

“I had it under control. She was just scared and I don’t blame her.” Poe started before Kylo rose a brow.

“I’m sure you did. That’s why there’s a blaster mark on the floor. Tell me, how did she distract you? How did she catch you off guard? Your thoughts are loud, Dameron.”

“Like you have room to talk when it’s your wife. Now, if you’ll excuse me, your highness, I need to make sure they’re comfortable.” Rolling his eyes, Poe started out of the throne room with BB-8 close behind him. It didn’t take him long to catch up with the others, but he noticed how the senator kept the queen close to her. Clearing his throat as he approached them, he gave them a small smile. “The transport isn’t too far, and I won’t be separating you. I ask that you don’t kill me on the way. I’m certain we can find you some food and water if you need it? Maybe caf.”

He noted that the woman wasn’t listening to him in the slightest, but Seraphine seemed to be a little more relaxed. With a curt nod, he led them to the shuttle and spoke little. He saluted all that he passed along the way and tried not to let the silence of the girls bother him. Poe wanted to show them that the Final Order wasn’t as horrible as they thought. They were going to keep the galaxy safe and bring order. This was going to be better for everyone. He truly believed that. He believed in what they were doing. Approaching the shuttle, Poe took one last look at Naboo and made a note that he would visit again. He might even bring the senator back if she would allow him. “Watch your step, Seraphine.”

“Queen Seraphine.” Senator Citlali snapped, which cause him to lift his hands up once more.

“You have some bite, Citlali. I might have to put you in those binders.” He grinned before following behind them to prepare for their departure.

“Touch me and I’ll make sure that this shuttle never makes it to the Steadfast,” Ro spoke as she turned to face him. Her shoulder squared as she tried to make herself a little bigger. He liked her.

“Aurora, leave Captain Dameron alone. Please take your seat.” Seraphine spoke sternly as she had buckled herself in. Poe rose a brow as he watched Aurora turn on her heels and go to the queen. He hadn’t planned on learning her first name, but now he couldn’t help but grin. He could see how devoted Aurora was to the young queen, and he could admire that. He was just as loyal to Kylo and the others. They were his family.

They spent the rest of the time in silence as Poe began his flight preparations. None of them will break that silence just to make awkward small talk. Instead, Ro had helped take off the headpiece that Seraphine had been wearing. She even took down her hair to comb through to help the young queen relax during the journey. Seraphine had curled up the moment that they took off. Her eyes grew heavy, and she had fallen asleep. Ro’s slender fingers working through her hair as she slept. The cold air of the shuttle made goosebumps form on the exposed skin of her midsection and the top part of her cleavage. She cursed herself for not grabbing the drape when they were leaving the throne room. Her arms were getting goosebumps from the chilled air.

“Here.” Poe’s voice startled her as she looked up at him. In one hand, he held out a black leather jacket with the symbol of the Final Order on the shoulders. She took it with reluctance. Placing her arms through the sleeves, thankful for something to put a barrier between her skin and the chilled air. Next, he handed her a cup of hot tea. Her eyes following the tendrils of steam as it swirled in the air. “I didn’t have any caf. It’ll help you warm up. Not too much longer until we arrive at the Steadfast.”

She only nodded her head at him before taking a small sip of the tea. The leather jacket smelled of the captain, but she couldn’t help to feel a little comfort from it. It was probably just from the warmth that was giving her. Captain Dameron had gone back to his seat and was back to watching all the control along with their course. Seraphine stirred for a moment before Ro hummed once more. She would not let the teenage girl feel alone, especially not around their enemies. They only had each other now. They wouldn’t establish trust with anyone from now on. They had to show them they were strong and wouldn’t be their prisoners. However, Ro already felt like a prisoner despite not wearing the binders. Her new journey made her feel like a prisoner.

“Twenty minutes until arrival. . .”

#TW: the use of the word blood #TW: mentions of anxiety #FO!Poe x OFC #My writing #My OC #Mar's writing #TW: Slight cursing #Scheduled post

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lovingtheway · 4 years ago

Text

Un Mundo Raro

Note: This is gonna be a shortish series I think? I'm not completely sure how many chapters it'll be but I do know where I want it to go and how it ends so I just have to actually get there fuck 😅 I'm actually really excited about this and I had fun writing this part, I hope you all like it 😊💜💜

The idea (and song they’re dancing to) came from Un Mundo Raro by La Santa Cecilia (although if you want a depressed emotional version, personally, I love the Jose Alfredo Jimenez version for those late night drinks) The song is in bold and I’ll put the translations at the end

Shoutout to mi querida @murdermewithbooks who is always so lovely when I send her things to read and always so helpful. I love you 💜💜

Summary: slow dancing with Javi at your wedding

Warnings: angst, longing/yearning, and please let me know if you catch anything else

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Cuando te hablen de amor y de ilusiones

You smiled as Javi led you out to the dance floor. You lit up the hall with that smile, the simple white dress you wore doing little to mask the natural beauty you held. The dress could have been rags for all he cared, you practically radiated happiness as you turned to face him. He squeezed your hand lightly, smiling back at you before he placed a hand on your waist and pulled you in.

Y te ofrezcan un sol y el cielo entero

Marriage looked good on you. Your eyes shining with all the love they held. Your vows rang in his head as you began to sway with the music. Your vows to stand by his side and love him forever no matter what tried to force its way between you two. Your vows to love him through thick and thin and always keep the love you had found in each other alive. His heart flooded with emotion as he recalled your words. Your beautiful declarations of love.

Si te acuerdas de mí no me menciones

Porque vas a sentir amor del bueno

He remembered the first time he told you he loved you:

“But it's so pretty,” you whined as you leaned on the window.

“You can't,” he replied, skimming a book that was meant to be his homework. College was kicking his ass and while normally you'd be the one pushing him to 'ponerse las pilas' and focus on his studies, right now you were insufferable with your want to go outside.

“You're not the boss of me,” you mumbled, a pout on your face as you moved closer to the door. You kept an eye on Javi as you slowly moved closer to the door. A smile crept onto his face as he realized you were trying to get outside to the thunderstorm raging outside. He tried to call your name but the door swung open and then you were out on the front porch.

He shook his head, trying to hide his amusement and followed you out. You were already on the grass, your arms held out as you spun in the rain. The droplets clung to your clothes making them stick to your body.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his breath hitching in his throat as the longing clenched his lungs and heart as he watched you. Your face was alight with joy as you laughed and danced in the rain, able to see the beauty in something that was just an inconvenience to everyone else. You looked up and caught his gaze, a giggle escaping your lips as you ran towards him. He stepped back as you came at him. He knew what you were going to do and was barely just warning you when you crashed into him. Something burst in him as he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you tight against him. Your legs wrapped around his waist as the rain that clung to your clothes soaked him, cooling the heat that burst in him.

"I love you," he blurted out without thinking, the overwhelming need to let you know getting the best of him. Your legs loosened as you met the ground once more, looking up at him with curious eyes and a shy smile. He opened his mouth to correct himself but your eyes were alight with a flame he'd never seen before. A flame that lit only for him. A flame that flickered and fell with his emotions, in tune only with his heart proving your love for him was too pure for him to keep.

"That's not going to make me take it easy on you, Javi," you teased as you yanked him out into the rain. He gasped at the cold rain that struck his skin but your hand was burning hot in his as you pulled him further into the rain.

"I love you too, Javi," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck so that he was trapped out in the storm with you. The wind howled around you but everything seemed to slow down in your presence, the storm stopping and all he could focus was you. Your eyes were the color of the whiskey he downed on hard nights. The only person he ran to when everything became too much for him, the only one that kept him sane.

Y si quieren saber de tu pasado

Es preciso decir una mentira

Di que vienes de allá, de un mundo raro

"I want a love so pure, the gods'll be jealous," you admitted one night.

At the time he wondered if you knew that he'd give his life for you. Just like that Aztec story you told countless times, the one about the princess and warrior. He'd give his life to look after you and love you forever, making sure to scare anyone before they even thought of hurting you.

Que no sabes llorar

Que no entiendes de amor

Y que nunca haz amado

His arms tightened around you as your soft voice sang along to the song. You always told him how when you listen to music your heartbeat syncs to the beat of the song. He wondered if you knew his heart always beat in sync with yours. You were so embedded in his soul that he wasn't even sure of who he'd be without you. You had burrowed yourself so deep in his soul that he'd spend years just thinking of pushing you out, he couldn't even bear to actually imagine himself without you.

Porque yo adónde voy hablaré de tu amor

Como un sueño dorado

You two had grown up together. Your love having spent years growing and depending on each other that the idea of you two ever being apart was too ludicrous to even think about. Who else could ever know of how to talk him down from his self-destructive phases after a particularly bad day? Who else could know how to calm you down when your emotions got the better of you? Who else knew how to hold you when the world caught up with you and you realized you couldn't save anyone? It was only fate that you'd end up together forever.

Y olvidando el rencor

No diré que tu adios

Me volvió desgraciado

That's why telling you that he was leaving for the DEA so soon was so hard. Your face had fallen at the news, your eyes looking around frantically as you tried to find a way to keep him in Laredo. But you'd known for years that saving the world was his weakness. No matter how much he said he loved you, his own selfishness rarely trumped the greater good.

He took your hands when you took a step back from him, betrayal already sinking into your bones and the strongest urge to run took over your senses.

"Querida mírame," he murmured, one of his hands going to your chin to angle your head up so you were facing him. Your eyes met his, already rimmed red with unshed tears. His heart fell and he almost backed out but he merely pulled you into his chest, feeling your arms wrap around his waist and gripping the back of his shirt tightly. "I'll be back. It's not forever."

Y si quieren saber de mi pasado

He'd loved you for so long.

The pit of dread was growing in his stomach as he realized the song was coming to an end and he'd have to let you go.

Es preciso decir otra mentira

It should have been him you married.

But when this new man walked into your life, it took him too long to recognize the threat. He was certain that you knew how he felt regardless of the fact that he'd never voiced his feelings. He thought you knew you were the only person who truly knew him and the one person he stayed in Laredo for.

Les diré que llegué de un mundo raro

But then he started to seduce you. Your eyes finding a reason to giggle in someone else's smile. Javi should have known you wouldn't wait for him forever, but the further you fell in love with this new man the more he hoped you'd choose him. Despite the fact that he never made it known that he wanted anything more than what you two already had. He thought he was so obvious but you deserved someone who could give you the very stars in the sky.

Que no se del dolor

And despite the fact that he'd burn his hands raw catching them all for you, this new man held the stars in his eyes and you lost yourself in him. And after years of Javi forcing any hopes of wishes being real, the stars ran from him, desperate to keep away from such a lost soul.

Que triunfe en el amor

He made his way through countless women when you got together with Matthew. And after a while, you stopped rejecting his dates, any hopes of you choosing Javi gone. Javi wondered if he pushed you further away with all the women he slept with. When he mentioned them, your eyes would flash dark reminding him of the clouds that day he told you he loved you, before you looked away hiding any hurt that might reside in them. Any tears that might manifest in his presence.

Y que nunca e llorado

He let go of your hand, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your hands met his shoulders as you braced yourself against him, ignoring the looks of your guests. Your eyes met his and you could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes.

Que no se del dolor

He got the call to be sent to Columbia a few days after you announced your engagement. The newspaper that published your engagement had a picture of you and Matthew. You were smiling brightly at him, your eyes alight with love. Love that Javi hoped could have been aimed at him.

Que triunfe en el amor

He remembered deciding to tell you he was leaving. A part of him wanted to just disappear but when you mentioned how important it was for you to have him and his family at your wedding, you guilt tripped him into telling you he was going to Colombia. He knew for as long as he lived he'd never forget your excited eyes losing the light in them, any illusions of love escaping them before you forced them back to the surface. He couldn't leave when you needed him so much. It didn't matter how much he had wanted to leave then anymore, he wouldn't have given up this last dance with you for anything in the world. No matter how much he loved you, he knew you'd be safer with Matthew than you'd ever be with him. And if Javi could come home to you alive, even if it was with someone else, that would just have to be enough.

Y que nunca e llorado

He didn't even recognize the prickling of tears in his eyes as the song came to an end. Your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and he had his face buried in yours, his breaths tickling your skin.

The song came to an end completely and he pulled away before the suspicious eyes became too much for you or your new husband. He met your gaze, glistening with your own unshed emotions. He let out a soft breath and forced a smile into his face, reassuring you that you were making the right choice. Regardless of the fact that he wanted to beg you to go with him. Beg you to choose him.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, his eyes closed tightly to hide the tears from you. The last thing he wanted was to change your mind. You deserved to be happy, even if it was without him.

"Te quiero mucho, querida," he mumbled against your skin, trying to ignore the way his heart shattered in his chest. The pieces slipped into his bloodstream, poisoning him further. He knew that he'd never be able to love anyone like he loved you. And you'd never be able to love him as long as you were with Matthew.

"Javi," you murmured, your voice desperate for him to convince you. For him to plead for you to choose him but his mind was made up. You needed to be safe and happy, away from him. He was no good for you.

He caught sight of your husband walking towards you both. "Goodbye, mi vida."

He let go of you and walked towards the exit knowing your new husband would be there to pick up any pieces he left behind. He didn't deserve to keep you together. Not when your heart belonged to someone else.

~~~

When they speak to you of love and illusions

And they offer you a sun and the whole sky

If you remember me, don’t mention me

Because you’re going to feel the good kind of love

And if they want to know of your past

It’s necessary to tell a lie

Say you come from over there, from a strange world

That you don’t know how to cry

That you don’t understand love

And that you’ve never loved

Because wherever I go, I will tell of your love

As if it were a golden dream

And forgetting the resentment

I won’t say that your goodbye

Made me miserable

And if they want to know of my past

It’s necessary to tell another lie

I’ll tell them I came from a strange world

That I don’t know of pain

That i triumphed in love

And that I’ve never cried

Ponerse las pilas- literally to put on your batteries? but basically translates to get motivated or to get to work, get your head in the game

Querida, mirame- my dearest, look at me

Te quiero mucho querida- I love you

I’m sorry bc I hurt my own heart with this one tbh

Thanks for reading! Any and all comments are appreciated and loved! 🥰💜💜

Tagging the lovelies: @murdermewithbooks @pablopascal @rosamedina92 @hiscyarika @mostly-megan @brittritz @scarlettwitcher @laubeck10 @spacemacandcheese @hdlynnslibrary @daydreamin24-7 @dillylila @keeper0fthestars @cryptkeepersoul @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol

#un mundo raro #my first proper series?#javier peña x reader #my writing #i hope you all like it!!

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lostinmysticfalls · 5 years ago

Text

Meet Me In The Afterglow - Javi x Fem!Reader

This is for the anon who wanted some angst and dramaaaa! Based on the following exchange: “Did I ever mean anything to you? Or was it a lie?”

“Everything I told you, everything you think you know about me, is a lie... But I never lied about my feelings for you.”

Anon, I hope this is of your liking! *crosses fingers* Also, I didn’t know if you wanted smut so I threw some in there just in case ;) There’s also more Spanish than I thought there would be. Oops.

You had just finished changing into your dress, checking yourself in the mirror as you smoothed out the fabric with your hands, when you noticed the stack of envelopes and folders on top of the dresser. You rolled your eyes because you hated when Javi brought his work home with him.

Over the course of your time together, he’d been trying his best to separate his personal life from his work at the DEA.

You hummed to yourself before curiosity got the better of you, and as soon as you opened one of the folders you understood why the proverb rang true.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, the air escaping you like you were suddenly spiraling into a dark and bottomless pit.

Your hand shook as you stared at the black and white picture you found inside the manila folder. A haunting chill ran through you, realizing you had been followed, possibly for some time. It had been taken from afar as you were leaving the office one evening, like some kind of criminal being surveilled or a person of interest in an investigation.

A pang shot straight into your chest, not understanding why it was in Javi’s possession.

"The hot water's running low again. This building needs some major repairs." Javi said as he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. “Maybe it’s time we finally consider other options.” He smiled, taking a pair of pants out of the drawer.

You barely registered his words, feeling faint the longer you tried to make sense of what you were looking at. The folder in question also contained a full detailed profile on you, like he'd performed some kind of background check or he'd been keeping close tabs on you for a while before you even met.

He came up behind you, kissing the side of your neck. His dark wet hair dripped on your bare shoulder, warm mouth brushing your skin.

“Por qué tan distraída, mi amor?” He asked, his smile soon disappearing when he looked down at the folder in your hand and realized why you were so preoccupied.

He was almost as shocked as you, but there was a glint of fear in his eyes as he quickly went into damage control mode.

You managed to gather your thoughts just enough to ask a single question. "What the fuck is this, Javi?”

"I can explain." He croaked, his voice breaking.

“You can explain…” You huffed, keeping your cool much better than you thought you would.

His hand reached out to you, trying to grab your arm, but you pulled away. It was the first time you’d flinched like that in response to his touch and you could see the hurt reflected in his eye at that realization.

“Did you… Did you have me followed? Why do you have all this shit on me? Fuck! I fucking knew it, Javi! I knew this was too fucking good to be true.” You stammered through your delivery but it was clear enough for him to get the point.

“Listen to me.” He yanked the towel off and quickly threw on the pair of pants. Any other time you would’ve been grateful for that kind of display. “Fuck.” He muttered, running a hand through his wet hair, knowing he was deep in this now.

You shoved the folder into him, the corners bending as he took a hold of it and then tossed it on top of the dresser. He knew what was in it, he didn’t need to look at it.

“I should leave.” Your voice sounded stern, your stomach still in turmoil, the sickening feeling only getting worse.

Javi shook his head. “No. You need to hear me out first.”

“Was any of this even true? Was I just part of your job? Is this why you’ve been with me all this time?” You yelled.

He stepped a little closer, his sorrowful brown eyes looking down at you. That perfect little mouth of his that you loved so much, slightly parted, as he took a breath.

“I needed a girl.” He finally said. “It started off like that. I needed a girl to get me close enough to a lead I was following at the time. He was a client of yours and I knew he would be attending that stupid holiday party your office was throwing. I knew it couldn’t be just anyone—he’s familiar with all the girls in town…”

“So you picked me. I was your ticket in.” You muttered, the stabbing in your chest intensifying. You felt a knot in your throat materialize, sensing that you were going to break down any second. But you managed to hold your composure just enough to finish your thought. “Did I ever mean anything to you?” Finding it hard to even swallow at that point. “Or was all of it a lie?”

The distraught look on his face only added to your confusion.

“Of course you do. You mean everything to me.” His hands carefully touched the side of your face as if just a single brush of his fingers would make you crumble into pieces. “What I told you when we first met, the way this began… maybe that was a lie. But I swear to you, I never lied about my feelings for you. Never.” He uttered your name softly, with the type of adoration that you’d grown accustomed to.

It was obvious you needed time to process everything. It was a lot to take in all at once, but deep down you wanted to believe him. Wholly and without doubt.

“You kept it from me. For three months, Javi!”

“Because I thought that you not knowing would keep you safe.” One hand raked your hair, making you shiver. “I need you to trust me, sweetheart, please.” His voice a mere whisper as he leaned into you and rested his forehead on yours. “Eres lo mejor que me ha pasado.”

You scoffed. “The best thing that ever happened to you was something that was built on a lie?”

“I do regret the circumstances of our meeting. But I don’t regret what happened after that.” He admitted. “I love you and you know that. You can’t fake something like that.”

The look you gave him was reassurance that he wan’t entirely wrong. You felt it too. You had lived it for the past three months. You loved him with your whole heart.

It was as if he was reading your mind. “Te amo con todo.” He said, “Lo sabes.” His parted lips lightly touching the plumpness of your lower lip. Waiting for you to give him the green light or any kind of sign that you weren’t gonna run off on him.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” You backed away, grabbing your purse off the coffee table before heading for the door.

You’d gotten close enough to touch the doorknob when you felt his hand on your arm. It wasn’t really a strong hold and it wasn’t aggressive, but his clear intention was for you to slow down, to reconsider.

“You lied to me.” There was a crack in your voice, and you reacted in the only way you could think of, in an instant, slapping him across the face when he got too close.

You were on the brink of tears, like a flood of emotions had been unleashed once you made contact with his cheek. For a split second, you regretted what you had done but it was the only form of punishment you found fit for the situation.

He put both hands on your arms—no trace of anger in him, no blame whatsoever. You initially struggled to break free, knowing it wouldn’t take much for you to get wrapped up in him again. After all, you wanted to forgive him. Your weakness for him was too great.

“I deserved that. And more.” Javi’s voice was soft, and his glances still kind even through your actions. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He kept repeating it like it was a litany, over and over.

You screeched in frustration and anger when he pulled you into him. Your desire to push him away waning with each passing second as his arms blanketed you in a tight embrace against his naked chest. The fury subsided slowly the longer your body was pressed up against him. Javi continued whispering his confession in your ear, aware that you had stopped resisting him.

He kissed the side of your head. Everything was still for a moment, filled with uncertainty about what was coming next. Your heart aching and thundering in your chest as he began to move slowly.

Your breathing hitched at the feel of him sliding down the front of your body, heaving from the exertion. His face was pressed to your chest, trailing between your breasts and down your belly as he anchored himself to your tights. His hands spread over your ass as he fell to his knees.

You stumbled a couple steps back, becoming wedged between him and the door. “Javi, please...” Your entire body betraying you at the sight of him looking so pathetic and vulnerable at your feet.

“I can’t lose you.” He said, his lips kissing your bare legs. The ruffled hem of your dress rising as his mouth began to move higher up. His nose tracing the initial path over your inner thighs, followed by his lips.

You gripped his hair with your hands, a loud gasp escaping you. Your heat began rising quickly, undulating within you until that throbbing ache between your legs overpowered your reasoning.

“I love you.” He said again, his mouth nipping your mound over your underwear, as he hooked his fingers to the elastic band.

“Javi.” You sighed, your pulse staggered and your whole being buzzing as you felt his heated breath against your core.

He pulled your underwear down slowly, probably out of fear that you were going to react unfavorably—and with good reason. But you did no such thing. The cotton fabric slid down your legs, your nakedness at his mercy.

Javi shoved his face into your heat, his tongue going to work on your exposed flesh. Your back hit the door. You writhed, the jolts of pleasure making your legs wobbly. The moans that left your lips encouraged his fervency as he lapped your wet slit from top to bottom, sucking at your swollen nub just when you thought you couldn’t take any more.

He was fully enjoying your taste and he made sure that you knew it, his lewd satisfied noises growing louder along with your whimpers with each minute that ticked by.

“Oh my god.” Your ragged speech an indication that he had you close to breaking.

He dipped his nose between your thighs, making them part a little further still. His lips enclosed around your bud again, skilled fingers finding your slippery opening and invading it at unhurried pace.

“Javi!” You cried his name out, feeling two of his fingers inside you. His mouth continued to suck at your folds and his tongue flicked your tender nub as he moved inside you.

Your body was only able to handle so much, moments later unraveling from the immense pleasure he was inflicting on you. Millions of little stars rupturing behind your closed eyelids as you came, your legs shaky and your breathing heavy.

Javi wiped his mouth, coming to stand before you. You still needed more of him, your body longing for it as he kissed your neck. His teeth scraped your skin as he bit down on it, making you whir with need.

“Te amo, Javier.” You said to him, admitting that even through the white lies and the deceit your feelings for him remained unchanged.

He bucked his hips into you, his hardness pressing against your lower stomach and making the heat within you flourish like an unabated blaze. His hands gripped your sides, mouth crashing into yours as he lifted you off the ground. Your legs instinctively hooked around his waist as you kissed him ravenously.

Javi carried you in his arms, not once breaking free from your kiss. He stumbled his way into the bedroom, carefully dropping you on top of his bed before taking off his pants. You sat up for a moment, long enough for him to pull your dress over your head.

His hands quickly unfastened your bra, palms and fingers kneading your breasts, eagerly squeezing the fullness of your supple skin as he nipped at your lips. He pinched your nipples, twisting your peaks until your breathing quickened against his mouth.

He moved into you, his hands wrapping around your hips, adjusting you as he situated himself between your opened legs and lied on top of you. You welcomed the weight of his body. His cock pressing against your inner thighs, the ridges of his veiny length teasing your dripping cunt and making you pant with want.

He kissed you for a long drawn out minute before his mouth began to travel over your chest, his hands tenderly caressing your skin, tracing it delicately. His fiery lips placing kisses on your breasts, revering your body in a way that was so uniquely him.

His lips enveloped one nipple, suckling it as his fingers traced the bends of your perfect frame. You arched your back, moaning while you basked in the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.

Your heart was pounding, stomach churning with excitement as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and spread you open. His open mouth glided over your stomach, gently nipping at you as he moved lower still. A mewling cry left your lips at the feel of his tongue on your slit again. He licked you a few times and then kneeled before you, the tip of his cock breaking through your opening nice and slow.

“So fucking good.” Javi muttered. Your snug walls enclosed around him as he filled you up.

You moaned loudly, knees bent as he entered you, gliding in and out a little faster each time. One of his hands gently wrapped around your neck, his grunts filling the air around you as he bucked his hips into you at an even pace.

After a while he pushed himself up, grabbing your calves and lifting up your legs. You followed suit, resting them on his broad shoulders, allowing him to hit new depths as he pushed into you faster and harder. The bed frame shaking behind you, hitting the wall every time he made contact with your sweet spot.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” You pleaded. “Just like that.”

The loud whimpers that erupted from you seconds later, a result of him making you come undone once again. You kissed him, biting his lip as your walls contracted and gushed, heat spreading through you in seconds. The euphoric feeling rolling out like shock waves over you, reaching all extremities.

Javi was knelt in front of you, his brown eyes enthralled by the gratified expression on your face as you reveled in his actions. He took a hold of your ankles, bucking his hips into you at an incessant pace, breathing heavily and moaning, relishing in how good you felt. After a few minutes, your whimpers were enough to push him over that point of no return.

He groaned loudly, slamming into your core with unrestrained force until he burst inside you. The heat of his release permeating your entrance and sending all his senses into disarray for those few glorious seconds.

His body gently rested on top of you, exhausted and agitated, once he was all done. He was incredible; the best you’d ever had. No one had ever made you feel like him, and you were sure that no one ever would again.

Once the surge of emotions had faded, and you were both down from your high, it came time for the inevitable.

You got up from the bed first, going to the bathroom to clean up and then quickly returning to put your clothes back on. Javi took his time getting out of bed but by the time he did, he understood that what had transpired between you wasn’t a quick, magical fix to your problem.

You needed time.

“I love you with everything too, Javi.” You said, speaking to him calmly. “Which is why I can’t just forget that all of this started off as a deception.” A tiny smile appeared on your face. “And yeah, maybe the ruse ended up becoming real after a while. I do believe that.”

His footsteps closed in on you.

“If you need space, I’ll give you that.”

The wretched look on his face was heartbreaking but you were sure that time apart was necessary for this to work in the long run.

“But I’m not going anywhere.” He tilted his head slightly, leaning into you, his lips touching yours softly. “I’ll be here waiting until you’re ready.”

You nodded, sighing as he kissed your forehead. Wishing the moment had lasted a while longer.

“I have to go.” Your voice was hushed as you turned to leave again.

This time you made it to the door without him stopping you.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #narcos netflix #fanfiction #oneshot #anon ask #anon answered #anon who lives for the dramaaaaa #javi x reader

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a-spectacle-in-the-morning · 5 years ago

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“Right in Front of You” -- Rafael Barba

Because I’m in the mood for some sweet stuff here’s a date with Barba that doesn’t go as anticipated, incredible street food, and Barba being the grumpy gentleman that he is.

Notes: This is a *sort of* follow up for this fic (not a necessary read for this one!) since people had very kind things to say about it despite all the grammar errors. Not that this is in any way free of grammar errors. Is this a weird jump in the relationship from the last one? Perhaps. Are you suddenly and inexplicably more sardonic in this one? Mhm. Did I give myself the time or have the energy amidst all my school work to fix these discrepancies? No, not really. In other words: apologies in advance.

It takes you a while to decide what to wear when you go out, and that decision is only worsened by the fact that your nights are usually unpredictable as a professional bar hopper. It’s a science, really. The block you start on, the weather, the friends you’re with; all factors. Tonight, however, you know exactly what to wear.

Mostly because Barba sent you a very detailed itinerary for the evening. Dinner at a ridiculously expensive restaurant, Broadway show at six thirty, and home by ten. You both have work tomorrow and that means an early bedtime. After sorting through your pile of button-ups and dress pants there was really only one option.

It’s a gamble of an outfit and could easily be over the top, but it’s the most expensive thing you own. And if you’re being honest with yourself you’ve been hoping for an opportunity to wear it.

Despite how incredible you look on the outside you’re a complete bundle of nerves on the inside. By the time Barba rings the doorbell to your apartment you feel like you’re going to throw up. Who takes a raincheck on drinks and turns it into dinner and a show? The kind of man that waits outside your building in a three-piece suit with flowers, apparently.

“Hey,” you say, nodding your head towards his suit. “You look nice.”

“That was going to be my line,” he replies, standing a bit stiffly. He holds the flowers out for you to take.

“Thank you, sir.” You take the bouquet from him and press it up to your nose. “I’m a little afraid to ask how you knew that I like dahlias more than roses.”

Barba reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck as he says, “You just seem like a dahlia kind of person.”

“What? A little spiky but with beautiful and deep coloring?” you joke.

“Something like that,” he smiles and relaxes a bit.

“I’m gonna run these up and put them in a vase. Do we have enough time?”

“You’ve got five minutes,” he says, fiddling with his watch like he’s going to set a timer.

“I’ll be back in four,” you nearly yell over your shoulder as you rush back up to your building. “I ran cross country in high school!”

You’re back in seven and out of breath, but Rafael wasn’t really counting. He just grins when you return and the two of you begin the walk to the restaurant. When you get about a block away you start to worry.

“Is that a line for the place we’re going?”

“Probably, but I made a reservation weeks ago.”

So that’s why this date was so delayed.

When you get indoors Rafael goes up to the hostess and confidently says, “I have a reservation for two under Barba.”

The woman scrolls through her tablet and shakes her head. “Sorry, nothing under that name.”

Barba presses his brows together. “Oh, well, they should have been made around two weeks ago.”

She shakes her head again. “Sorry, sir. I don’t see anything here.”

He nods curtly and thanks her, turns, and leads you back outside by the small of your back. Once you’re on the sidewalk again he starts to rub at his right temple.

“I’m sorry. I thought I made the reservation. Damn it...”

He starts to mumble something about Carisi and intrusions so you grab both of his hands and squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens to everyone.”

When he nods his head but doesn’t respond you add, “That was nice of you not to badger the hostess. Harvard douchebags have a tendency to do that when things don’t go their way.”

He shakes his head at your quip. “I’ve worked plenty of part time jobs. I know not to be an asshole when someone doesn’t deserve it.”

“But you were an asshole to me the first time we met,” you shoot back.

“Exactly.”

“Hey! I was perfectly-”

“I know, I know. There's another place I’m thinking of, but it’s in the Bronx. We’ll have to take a cab.”

“Lead the way.”

In under half an hour you are once again following Barba’s lead as he swiftly presses through the streets. He walks like everyone you pass is trying to get in his way even though the foot traffic isn’t particularly bad tonight. The smell of garlic and spices suddenly overwhelms you and your stomach grumbles.

“I hope that smell is coming from wherever we’re going and I hope it’s close,” you whine a bit exaggeratedly.

He laughs. You’ve never heard Barba laugh enthusiastically. It’s kind of beautiful. “Right in front of you.” He points to a food cart across the street.

La Kubanita, you read. There’s a short line, but nothing like the one from earlier.

“How do you know about this place?” you ask, making some conversation as you wait.

“I grew up a few blocks from here. My mom would give me some money every once in a while and I would bring her back tamales.”

You give Barba a sideways glance. “I didn’t know you grew up in the Bronx.”

“Well, that’s because I didn’t tell you,” Barba says sardonically. “And nobody ever asks.”

“Rafa!”

Rafa?

“Dios mío,” Rafael mutters. “Cómo estás, Isabel?”

You look up a bit to the window of the truck to find an older woman absolutely beaming at Barba.

“Tú sabes que estoy bien. Quién es?” she asks, pointing in your direction. “Por fin conseguiste una cita?”

“Stop it Isa,” Rafael lightly scolds. “This is my coworker.”

“Alright,” she relents with a grin. “You want the usual?”

“Por favor,” Rafael responds.

You’re handed a couple take out boxes of warm food within minutes and you thank Isabel with a smile. You find a picnic table to sit at nearby and open the food to find three steaming hot and perfectly wrapped tamales.

As he opens his own box Barba says, “I’m not a huge fan of street food-”

“Shocking.”

Barba squints at you then continues, “But, I love this cart. I even brought some of their arroz con pollo home to my abuela once and she gave it her stamp of approval.”

“Alright, that is really high praise. I don’t think my grandma has approved of anything I have ever cooked or bought her. Or really anything I’ve ever done. You should have seen her face when I told her I wanted to work in law enforc-”

“We can unpack that later,” Barba interrupts, “but right now you’re going to stop thinking about your problems and try that tamale in front of you.”

You throw him a look, but pick up your fork and dig in. It is, undoubtedly, the best tamale you’ve ever had.

“You win this round, Barba,” you concede between bites.

He looks up from his food. “I wasn’t aware this was a competition.”

“It’s always a game with you.”

“Is it?”

You pause, trying to decide if you want to maintain your nonchalance or admit something a little more personal. Fuck it.

“You’re tough to keep up with sometimes. Everything is in order. No nonsense. You’re effortlessly and brutally sarcastic- which is very sexy, by the way. Every conversation is a mini battle. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. It’s just new. I’m not used to guys like you.”

You hold his gaze for a second longer, then busy yourself with unwrapping your second tamale.

“Very sexy, hm?”

You snap your eyes back up to him to catch his shit-eating grin. “Really? That’s what you picked out of that?”

His smile somehow grows, and you can’t help the one spreading on your own face.

“You should know after today that I don’t have it all put together,” he says, going back to his meal.

You gently kick one of his feet under the table. “Yeah, I finally have some proof that you’re human.”

“Aside from the fact that I’m fueled entirely by coffee like the rest of you?”

“Yes,” you nod in agreement. “Aside from the coffee.”

The two of you finish your meal while making casual conversation. When Rafael returns from throwing the garbage out he stops to look at his watch.

“It’ll take us about 30 minutes in this traffic to get back to Manhattan. We should probably head out. Are you ready to go?”

“Damn. I was just starting to get comfortable being totally, inappropriately overdressed. Maybe we should just skip the show.”

Barba rolls his eyes but holds out his arm for you to take. “I’ll leave you here if that’s what you want. I’m not missing Anastasia.”

You laugh, taking his arm and walking out towards the street to hail a taxi. As you wait you notice the sun is beginning to set and is casting the loveliest shade of yellow over everything. You catch Barba looking at you with an entirely contented expression and a slight smile ghosting his lips.

That look alone is better than all the whiskey in the world.

Here’s the thing folks, I haven’t written anything in Spanish in probably three or more years. I know there have got to be mistakes. I apologize. Blame my senior year Spanish teacher for making us watch soap operas more often than actually teaching us anything. And the name of the food cart is borrowed from a real Cuban food cart that I have never been to. I wasn’t creative enough to think of my own.

Hopefully this was a decent follow up for “Woeful Wins and Whiskey”. I’m trying to get more confident with writing Barba. Trying being the key word. I’m always happy to read feedback, comments, and criticisms. And if anyone wants a third part let me know! I’m thinking more shenanigans with the SVU, maybe some struggles with defining the relationship.....

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba fanfic #law and order: svu #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #law and order: svu imagine #law and order: special victims unit imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #rafael barba

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 5 years ago

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Phoning Home

The idea for this fic came to me after I called an old friend of mine on the phone. Let's just say I felt a little vulnerable and got emotional, but they're a good friend, so I didn't mind. For my other fics check out my Masterpost.

In this fic the reader and Rick get a bit honest over the phone

__________________________

The funny thing about cell phone reception was that if you stepped into certain parts of your house, you'd lose a bar or two. Though, for whatever reason, it seemed Zeta-7 always had perfect, steady reception; which you thought could've been attributed to the 4 slot chip holder behind his phone battery. Well, with that kind of reliability, you never had trouble understanding him on the other end of a call unless there was background noises like laughing or something blowing up; usually the latter. So, for the most part, it was like having him right there, but not really, and you stressed that when you heard it in his voice; you stressed how important he was to you and how much you missed him. "It's so nice to hear your voice. I feel like it's been forever since I've seen you."

"I-I know." he agreed, light exhaustion coloring his voice. "It's been a-a-a busy couple of weeks hasn't it?"

"You're telling me." you sighed as you glanced at the photo the two of you had taken a few months ago; taken on the night he had assumed you two were about to break up, and you had tried to be mature; all of which you did just to impress him; how silly it was of you, but how lovely an evening it had been. "It seems as though this is all we can do anymore; just talk on the phone and hope that the other person isn't lonely."

"Are you lonely?" he inquired; his voice taking on that particular soft, sweetness which would have almost been alluring if other words had been used instead.

"I want to say I'm not," you started because you wanted to be better than that; to prove that you could be more mature than your years, "but usually I can't. I guess I am."

"I'm s-sorry mi corazón."

"I mean," you tried to reason, "I try to tell myself that it's only temporary and that the work you're doing is much more important than my own feelings, but I feel as though we're on two different worlds, on different planes, and are destined to be apart. I know how silly that sounds, but it's how I feel sometimes. Goodness is it…am I wrong to feel this way?"

"No, you're not. Boy," he confessed, guilt laced in his words. "I - I feel as though I've neglected you."

"No, that's not true at all. You've taken very good care of me."

"Have I? I allowed you to get lonely, and I don't know how I-I-I can forgive myself? Y-you're everything to me."

"As you are to me." you softened; tears biting the back of your eyes. "You're so important to me, that it's like I'm missing a part of myself when you're not here."

"Gosh," Zeta-7 sniffled, pausing for a moment to collect himself before he continued. "y-y-y-y-you don't know how hard it's - how I-I really want to be there with you. All I see all day are lab specimens and m-my own face…that is the faces other Ricks. How I've lasted this long is beyond me, but I believe it's - it's because I think about you."

You sat up on your couch, ready to listen. "What do you mean?"

You heard as he set down something heavy; maybe a book or a beaker full of some concoction. "Do you remember when I said that I sometimes wish I could carry you in my pocket, and have you look after me all the time? Well, I um - I like to imagine that I really do. Th-that you're so small and precious that I can't let you out of my sight or else…"

"Or else what?" you wondered, being both intrigued and warmed by his thoughts.

"Or else someone better suited might take you away from me."

You couldn't have thought of anyone better suited than him. Over all these years, there had been a few guys including an old friend from high school, but they had never been enough. You had other interests in mind, but when Rick came along, it's as though something inside you woke up. In the beginning, Zeta-7 was so shy and easily hurt, and even now he thought you could've had anyone when all you ever wanted was him. "What would you do if someone tried to take me away? Whether in your imagination or in real life, what would you do?"

"I wouldn't let them, unless - unless you wanted to go, but I wouldn't want you to go, not after how long I've waited f-for you. I know I'm being selfish, and I-I should stop rambling but you make me so happy; the happiest I've ever been. How can I not think of you?"

His earnest, sincere nature wasn't lost on you. You had to pause, and take a moment to find your words, let alone a steady train of thought. He truly was lovely; what a shame that he thought so lowly of himself. "I mean, there are a plethora of things to think about."

"Gosh, it's neat to think about experiments and all, but I'd rather - it's mighty swell to think about you."

You placed a hand over your heart, realizing that you didn't feel so bad anymore. In fact, amidst the conversation you found that you had done something similar to cheer yourself up; imagine that he would be somewhere about the house; cooking, cleaning, tinkering, or napping on your couch; ready to greet you with smiles and kind words whenever you were in the room. "I see. I think...no," you blushed, "I do understand what you mean. I think about you all the time too. I'm sorry for worrying you. I should probably let you go now."

"Wait, b-before you go, there's something I wanted to tell you."

"Alright."

"I read something not that long ago and I thought it was fitting. It goes like this: 'Si nadie sabe ni p-por qué reímos,'" he softened, "'ni por qué lloramos; si nadie sabe ni por qué v-vivimos, ni por qué nos vamos; si en un mar de tinieblas nos movemos, si t-todo es noche en derredor y arcano, a lo menos, amemos; quizá no sea en vano.'"

"Rick, that sounded lovely, but while I've been trying to learn a little Spanish, I don't understand. What does that mean?"

You heard a familiar sound, and behind you, a portal opened, and he stepped through; from head to toe, he was covered in a hazmat suit. With a lighthearted chuckle, he cleared his throat and you swore you could hear his blush, through his mask. "It - it means in more or less words that despite whatever happens or might happen, th-that I love you."

Those words which he always meant, but rarely said struck you with such a force that you couldn't help but be relieved and the burble of laughter which escaped your throat was not contained. And as much as you wanted to hold him, you knew that if he was wearing all this gear, it was for a good reason. "Oh Ricky, I would kiss you if I could."

"I-I'm not supposed t-to have left and might get in trouble," he confessed, "but I had t-t-to come here in person to tell you that. How else could I prove my worth as y-your boyfriend? As a man?"

Standing as close as you could, you smiled up at him; unaware of his own struggle in wanting to hold you, but not being in a condition to do so. "You prove it to me all the time as you had just now. Why I couldn't ask for anyone better. Thank you, dear, really thank you for being with me."

He stretched out his arm, nearly touching your cheek with his gloved hand, but stopped and allowed it to drop to his side. "I'm - I'm sorry, but I hav-"

"To go? It's okay, I understand."

Rubbing his arm, he informed you, "I'll be back soon."

As always, like a ghost, he would go away; not knowing when he should return, but knew that he was never far whether you wished it or not. "Alright."

He turned around, unhappy that he'd have to leave you alone again, but before stepping through the portal, he mentioned. "After this assignment is done, I'll take an extended vacation, and w-we'll go wherever you want."

There were a great many places which you thought of and wished to go, but if anything else, one thing proved true. "As long as you're with me," you confessed, with a hand pressed over your heart. "then I'll be happy because when I'm with you, it's like coming home."

"Me too. More than you'll ever know."

Fin

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afictionaladventure16 · 5 years ago

Text

Safe and Sound (Robert Downey Jr. x Daughter!Reader)

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Previously on Safe and Sound...

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, fluff.

Word Count: 2,035

You followed Robert down some hallways, your mind was everywhere, you couldn’t believe that he actually wanted to talk to you. Everything felt so real, this shit was actually happening. Robert opened the door to a room, he gestured for you to go in. You walked into the room, it had a couch and what looked like a small make-up station. It must be one of the greenrooms.

“What’s your name, kid?” Robert asked as he closed the door, you quickly turned around to face him.

“Um, it’s (Y/N),” you answered, you looked around the room, “where are we?”

Robert couldn’t believe it. If you were actually his daughter, your kidnappers must have kept your name, he didn’t understand why they would do that. It was a dumb move on their part but he was grateful for that dumb move. “This is my green room,” he said softly. “What makes you think that you are my daughter?” Robert didn’t want this to be another hoax, I mean he’s dealt with parents before saying they had his missing daughter. It all just brought his hopes up, he hoped this just wasn’t another scheme to meet the actor.

You quickly took off your drawstring bag, “because,” you began to say as you dug through your bag, you took out the adoption papers, handing them to Robert, “I found those last week.” Robert looked over the papers, he couldn’t believe what he was reading. Right there in black ink was his name along with his ex-wife’s name. His daughter, you, were put into the black market adoption. “I’ve done my research. And if it helps any, my parents don’t have any pictures from when I was under three years old. They both have different stories as to why, but” You dug through your bag again, taking out a small photo, “I have this one photo from when I was four from when we first moved to Mexico.” You handed it to Robert, his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of the photo. You were next to a couple, they were smiling in the photo. “I look nothing like them, they’re both tanned and I’m light complected.”

He pulled out his wallet, taking out a small wallet-sized photo, he had always kept this photo of you in his wallet, it was taken on your 3rd birthdays. Days before you were taken. Days before his world came crashing down. He took the photo, placed it side by side with the photo you handed him.

The girls in both photos looked exactly alike, there was no doubt that you were indeed his missing daughter. He continued to stare at the photo, his daughter with two strangers. Two strangers that took her from him. From her family. He looked up at you, standing in front of him after all these years, “it is you,” He said in almost a whisper. He looked at you in amazement.

You realized what he was saying, you were his missing daughter. You had been taken, you didn’t know what to feel, most of the life you had lived was a lie. The people who raised you took you from your family, you felt a wave of anger towards them. Robert quickly wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, you felt at peace in his arms.

“I knew you weren’t dead,” Robert said as he let out a sob, “they said that it’s best to think you were dead instead of out there suffering, but I knew you weren’t dead!” He let go of the embrace, holding your face in his hands, “look at you!” He said with a smile, “you’re so beautiful!” You felt tears brim your eyes.

You wrapped your arms around Robert, his embrace felt familiar, safe, it all felt so right “I remember this,” you whispered. “I remember you singing to me,” You said as you let go of the hug, “That song, it’s um-”

“Smile,” Robert said, “I used to always sing you ‘Smile,’ you would beg me to sing it to you, it was the only song that got you to sleep when you were a baby.” Robert couldn’t stop staring at you, “oh my gosh, (Y/N), losing you was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Your mother, she-”

“I know,” you whispered, “I read about it when doing my research.”

“I blamed myself for that night,” he said softly, “I almost ruined my career, my family, because of it,” he felt a fit of anger towards the kidnappers, “we need to call the cops.”

“Wait!” You exclaimed, “can we just.. Can we just savor this moment? I want to hear about when I was little, tell me about my mom. What’s she like?” You sat down on the couch, Robert then sat next to you.

He gently brushed your hair behind your ear, “you look like her,” he began to say, “she’s an amazing singer, you would always ask her to sing smile too, but she had her own song she would sing to you. You were our princess, (Y/N), losing you broke the family apart. It broke Indio. He thought so highly of you, he was such a proud big brother. Yeah, you guys fought but he was always there to protect you. They’re gonna be so overjoyed to hear the news.” Robert couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you, his little girl, alive and in front of him.

He placed his hand on your cheek, “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t protect you.” You gently grabbed his hand that was on your cheek, “did they… did they treat you okay?”

You gave him a nod, “don’t worry, they made everything seem like we were a normal family,” you reassured.

Robert gave her a nod, “how are you doing in school? Grades?”

“I’m actually in top of my class.”

“I knew you were going to be a smart kid,” Robert said as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

You sighed, looking down at the floor, “what now?”

“We call the cops, maybe I should call the lead detective on your case, I’ve been in contact with him over the years,” he took his phone out, “they will go to your house and arrest the um- people who took you.”

The kidnappers, the people who you thought were your parents almost all your life. You placed your hand on Roberts phone, stopping him from making the call, “Only one of them is home, if you make that call, you most likely won’t catch the other. It’s best if we just wait until tomorrow.” You could tell by the look on Roberts face that he didn’t like this idea, he just wanted to take you home and make sure you were safe. “Trust me, they will both be home all day tomorrow and you give the detective these papers,” you said as you gestured to the adoption papers, “this is the address to where the house is,” you grabbed a pen from your backpack and began scribbling on an old receipt from your wallet, “you tell them to go there.”

Robert was amazed at how much you’ve grown, you weren’t the three year old he used to know. He felt heartbroken by that fact, that he had lost so many years and all he wanted to do right now was to regain those years by talking with you for hours on end.

Your phone began to ring, you panicked as you realized how late it has gotten, “Oh shit!” You expressed as you looked at the Caller I.D. “it’s him, my um-” you looked at Robert, hesitating to call the man on the other end of the phone your father, the man you thought was your father, “it’s Mark.” You finished saying. “I have to answer,” Robert gave you an understanding nod.

“Hello?” You asked as you answered the phone.

“Sabes que hora es!?” Do you know what time it is?

“Lo siento pero perdi mis llaves, y yo Los Estaba Buscando.” I’m sorry but I lost my keys and I was looking for them. You looked over Robert who gave you a confused expression, “I’m waiting for the bus right now,” you lied.

You could hear Mark sigh on the other end, “I told you, eleven the latest. It’s already eleven fifteen, (Y/N)... just hurry up home, your mother is going to have a field day when she gets home tomorrow morning.” With that, he hung up the phone.

“Well?” Robert asked, eager to know what the conversation was about.

“Well, he’s not too happy,” you said softly as you placed your phone in your pocket, “I should probably get going.”

“Let my driver take you home,” Robert insisted as you got up from the couch, “so that way you won’t have to take the bus.” You didn’t hesitate at the offer, knowing very well that you would have to wait extra time for a bus and this way you would get home a bit quicker. “Come on,” Robert gestured for you to follow him. You followed him out to a different room, “Hey, mind giving someone a ride for me?” Robert asked a man.

The man quickly stood up and looked at you and smile, “Sure! What’s the address?”

You told him the address and he placed it into his phone GPS, “I’ll bring the car out to the front entrance,” The man said to Robert as he walked out of the room.

You then followed Robert through the hallways once again and into the front entrance, by now the only people at the center were just crew members. “What brought you to the convention anyway? Other than, you know, the obvious.”

“Oh, my best friend, (Y/B/F/N), and I had plans for years now to come to the Supernatural panel,” you admitted as you guys waited for the car, “we even got to meet Misha Collins, which was pretty freaking awesome.”

“You came with your best friend? Where is she?”

“Oh I kind of ditched her at a cafe, I was a bit upset from our first encounter.”

Robert sighed, “sorry about that, I-”

“It’s okay,” You gave him a reassuring smile.

“So, you’re a big Supernatural fan?” You gave him a nod, “What about Marvel?”

“Never really got into it,” You whispered, “but I think I’m going to be getting into it very soon,” you said with a smirk. Robert chuckled at your comment. He sighed as he saw his driver bring the car over to you guys.

Robert wrapped his arms around you, he placed his hands on your cheeks once more as he let go of the embrace, “I still can’t believe it.”

You gave him a gentle smile, “tomorrow, trust me.”

“Will you be okay?”

You gave him a nod, you just had to pretend for one more day, pretend that your fake life was normal that you didn’t know the secrets they’ve been hiding from you. “I’ll be fine, even better once this is all over.” Robert hesitated to let you go, he wanted to just keep you with him, call the cops, it didn’t matter if they only caught one. Well, it did, but Robert felt selfish, he wanted to just embrace you. Take in what he has missed, what was taken from him all these years. He watched as you got into the black Suburban, you gave him a small wave goodbye as the car slowly drove off.

Robert took his phone out, he knew it was late and that she was probably asleep but this was important, he listened to the phone ring a couple of times, “Hello?” her voice was groggy.

“Deb?”

“Robert? Do you know what time it is?” A slight irritation in her voice, she was confused as to why her ex-husband would be calling so late. Part of her wondered if it had anything to do with Indio but Indio was asleep in the other room.

“I found her, Deb,” Robert choked out, “She’s alive. Our baby girl is alive, Deb.”

A/N: Feeling super insecure about this chapter. Don’t really like how it turned out. Anyway, let me know what you guys think.

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hide-in-imagination · 5 years ago

Text

“Roads That Cross... With Delfi and Jazmín” (Part 1)

You can read the previous chapters here: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13)

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This chapter ended up being way longer than I anticipated so I took the healthy decision of dividing it in two. That way you get updates faster, and I have time to figure stuff out in the meantime. Enjoy!

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Simón wasn’t sure where the urge had come from, but he didn’t question it as he made the short walk to the mansion to get his guitar.

Part of him hoped he’d find Ámbar there or in the way there. He wanted to feel her close. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and breathe in the smell of her hair. It was a scent he could recognize now; even carried it with him after that morning, although he couldn’t smell it in himself. He still didn’t know exactly what it was 'cause the bottle didn’t show it, but it was nice, and most importantly, his memory associated it with sweet moments with Ámbar. Maybe if he smelled it, he’d feel better. Maybe if she just smiled at him, he’d feel better.

He didn’t find her.

Simón almost stayed in the storage room. Not because he wanted to hide from Benicio but because the calmness of the empty room was inviting. He could just stay for a while, play a couple songs without anyone bothering him…

You wanna lose your job too?

With a sigh, Simón placed the guitar inside its gig bag and made his return to the Roller alone.

Once inside, Simón walked to the stage and sat on its edge, bringing his guitar close and playing with the strings. Soon, a melody came about, a nostalgic one, and his voice came out to join it.

Te vas amor,

si así lo quieres qué le voy a hacer

Tu vanidad no te deja entender

Que en la pobreza se sabe querer…

Right as he began the next verse, another voice started singing, taking him by surprise. Simón snapped his head to the side and saw Luna, smiling widely as she walked closer to sit at his left. Seeing her smile brought a smile to him as well, and he strummed the guitar harder, with more vivacity, singing the chorus with her.

For two minutes, Simón forgot about everything. He felt back in Cancún, under the sun he had grown up with. He could almost hear the waves and their laughs with Luna and the voice of her mom begging him to stop playing that song.

Then the song was over, the strings rigid and static once again, just like his life. He felt stuck, as if, at some point, the solid ground under his feet had been replaced by a treadmill, and no matter how hard he ran, he didn’t arrive anywhere.

Simón didn’t have many moments like these; he didn’t allow himself to. He had learned— internalized from a very young age that a positive attitude was the key to achieve everything in life. And it wasn’t a karma thing where you expected the world to return your good deeds back to you one day, it was about how you chose to see things. Whenever something dragged you down or didn’t go as you wanted it to, you had two options: let it get you down or keep going. Simón kept going. He kept advancing and advancing, but there would always come a point where the big boulder he was pushing up the hill would roll back down and try to crush him.

This was one of those moments.

It was stupid, really. Benicio thrived on making other people’s lives miserable, for all intents and purposes he shouldn’t have listened to him. But he couldn’t un-listen to him, so now he had a cacophony of voices in his head calling him a failure. Telling him to go back to his country. Telling him that he wasn’t good enough.

“This song talks about love,” Luna told him hesitatingly, her green eyes showing worry. “Is there anyone that you think doesn’t deserve a love that’s sincere?”

It was funny. Some months ago, drowned in bitterness and hurt feelings, he would’ve answered ‘Ámbar’. Now though, it was like the lyrics he had sung a thousand times over had transformed into something else while remaining the same. It was like looking at something that could be written by a future version of himself. A version of himself abandoned with nothing left but a song.

“I wasn’t thinking about the lyrics,” he replied. It was both true and a lie. He was thinking about everything and nothing at once. A part of him was screaming at him to stop making up scenarios in his head while another kept answering ‘but what if they come true?’

Keep going.

Suddenly, Luna said she had to go, so Simón put on a smile to make it easier for her to do so.

Once again, it was just him and his guitar.

*************************

Five times. Sharon had left five times enough money to pay for the tea and coffee they had consumed. She probably hadn’t even bothered to look at the prices and hadn’t taken the time to count in her haste to leave Ámbar alone once again. How long had they been together? Ten minutes? Five?

I failed.

Ámbar stayed in her seat, finishing her tea as she wallowed in everything that had gone wrong. Not only was Sharon not stopping but now she was mad about Simón. Oh, Simón; she had lied to him telling him she was going to see Vidia, all for what? She had told Sharon that she wasn’t going to tell him anything, and for what?

She didn’t know if what she was feeling was fear, frustration or anguish. Maybe all three. What was she gonna do? What could she do? She was trapped.

A sudden wave of anger hit her. This was all Sharon’s fault. All of it. She wouldn’t be in any mess if it wasn’t for her. Had Sharon ever even thanked her for all she had done for her? No, of course not, it’s just what was expected of her. And now she had the audacity to tell her who she should and shouldn’t be with? She wanted her to renounce something that made her happy just because of a whim of hers? She knew Sharon was selfish, but this was something else.

Ámbar reached for the bills Sharon had left. She didn’t want anything from her, she’d pay the drinks herself. She almost wanted to tear the money apart. She almost did. But then she got an idea.

No; she was going to spend it. And she was gonna spend it on something for Simón. It was the biggest ‘fuck you’ move she could manage at the moment and she was gonna do it.

With her mind made, she asked for the check, paid, and left the Café to go visit some stores.

---------------------

The plan had been to just buy him something and go back to the Roller quickly, but once she started looking through different things, Ámbar lost sense of time.

It occurred to her that it was the first time she was shopping for Simón. What could he like? What would be useful? Those questions repeated on her mind. She got a little over-excited going through the stores, seeing everything on a new light because she wasn’t thinking about her tastes but about his.

Of course, she had bought stuff for Matteo when they were dating, but that had been different. Back then, she had done it almost with professionalism, going for the prestigious brands first, thinking about which accessory would fit more with his style or which item of clothes would go better with his skin color.

Clothes. Clothes are useful, he could like that.

As Ámbar went through different male sections, she confirmed how different it was to shop for Simón. She didn’t think about brands; she knew he didn’t care about that. Instead, she looked at different items and imagined how they would look on him. She thought about which one would make Simón happier, or which one would make her want to take it off him the most.

Not everything was fun though. Against her will, her conversation with Sharon continued to play on her mind. Her blind rage against the Valente, her accusation that Ámbar had switched sides, her ice-cold voice telling her to break up with Simón...

It was the first time that Sharon ordered her something and Ámbar straight out refused. The fact made her proud as much as it scared her. What if Sharon was serious about wanting her away from Simón? What if there was retaliation? What if she did something?

Don’t be ridiculous, Ámbar, this is not a soap opera.

Sharon wasn’t going to hire assassins or something. Ironically, she would have to actually care to do anything about it, and all her life experiences had shown her that she did not.

‘You better listen to me, Ámbar, it’s for your own good.’

Ámbar put the hook she had been holding back into its rack with a little more force than necessary. ‘For your own good’; she was so sick of hearing that phrase from her mouth. To tell her that she would go down with her, that no one would forgive her…

She doesn’t need to tell me that, I know it already.

Ámbar shoved all of that out of her mind and re-focused on the clothes. She was gonna give Simón something, he was gonna be happy, and he wasn’t going to leave her.

The low budget made things difficult. Of course, she could use her credit card and not just Sharon’s money but, one, that would defeat the purpose, and two, she felt if she pulled her card out, she was going to end up buying half the mall and then Simón would feel bad and scold her for spending so much on him.

Well, he better be prepared for his birthday. There was no way she wouldn’t fill him with presents then.

If we’re still together, her mind retorted immediately. She focused all her will into ignoring that.

By the time she finally made it out of the mall, it had been hours. She felt irresponsible for leaving her work on the side for so long, but it was time well spent. She wanted to get to the Roller quickly and see Simón’s face.

But when she arrived, he wasn’t there. Confused, she turned to Pedro who was retrieving empty plates from a recently vacant table and asked him about Simón.

“He said he was going to the mansion and coming right back.”

Ámbar frowned. That was unusual. Maybe he had forgotten something that morning?

Anyway, he thanked Pedro and was making her way through the cafeteria to wait for Simón when she heard voices coming from the dressing room. The door was ajar, so she stopped right before it to avoid being seen and concentrated on listening. Normally, she wouldn’t have eavesdropped —the days where she focused on what everyone else was doing were behind her— but she immediately recognized the voices inside, and it did not sound good.

“...the Red Sharks no longer exist,” Ramiro was saying, his voiced clipped.

“Maybe it would still exist if its teammates weren’t traitors,” Benicio spat resentfully.

“The reason it doesn’t exist anymore is that you don’t even care about skating, all you two care about is ruining everyone else's lives! Just leave Delfi and Jazmín alone,” Ramiro exclaimed forcefully.

Ámbar’s attention peaked at hearing her ex-best friends’ names. Why was Benicio going against Jazmín and Delfi?

“We are not going to do anything; they did it to themselves all on their own. And I don’t remember asking for your opinion, traitor. Benicio, did you ask for his opinion?”

Oh, so Emilia was also there. It didn’t surprise her. Ever since Benicio arrived, she hanged to his every word. Ámbar had noticed some jealousy coming from her when Benicio and her had been… together. (God, how she hated to remember that.) Now that she was out of the way, Emilia had clearly stepped up to take the role of his right-hand woman. Or, more exactly, the same pitiful role she had played with Matteo.

“No, I didn’t,” Benicio answered, and Ámbar could perfectly imagine the cocky face he was making. “It seems to me like you’re just desperate for someone to talk to, Ramiro, interrupting conversations like that. But you made your choice. We don’t want you anywhere near us.”

“And if your besties from the Roller don’t want you near either, then… I’m sorry, honey. But you’re going to be very, very alone.”

Emilia’s mocking tone made Ámbar want to slap her. They had been something like friends once, but the more time passed, her attitude became worse. Ámbar had had the hope that Emilia would come to her senses since she was not stupid, but with Benicio’s influence and her trying to win his attention… It was a bad mix.

If the pair had been trying to intimidate Ramiro, it didn’t work. His voice sounded firm and decided when he replied, “I prefer it that way.”

“Leave Delfi and Jazmín alone, I mean it,” he said with a warning tone, and next thing Ámbar knew, he was walking out the door, almost colliding with her.

Ramiro’s eyes widened when they focused on her.

“Á—”

Quickly, Ámbar rose her hands in a gesture for him to remain quiet and dragged him away by the arm. She stopped inside the lockers and turned to Ramiro.

“What was that about?” She asked in some of a quiet voice in case Emilia or Benicio walked by. “I heard Delfi and Jazmín being mentioned, what are Benicio and Emilia planning?”

Ramiro let out a deep sigh. “Sadly, I have to admit that Delfi and Jazmín were the ones who got themselves in this situation.”

“What situation?”

“Did you watch their last videos?”

Ámbar blinked. “No? I have more important things to do.”

“Like going shopping?” He asked sardonically, giving a look to the bag she had left behind her on top of the bench.

“Oh. No, that was just an improvised gift for Simón,” she dismissed.

Ramiro gave her the cheekiest smile and look on the planet. “Awww, the little princess is in love.”

Ámbar rolled her eyes.

“Don’t tease me, Ramiro, just tell me what’s up.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Fine,” he sighed. “So, basically, Delfi’s and Jazmín’s last videos were almost identical. Everyone assumed one had copied the other and each of them claimed the other was the copycat, which generated a fight.”

“Okay…”

“But, the truth is that they planned it all. They made the whole scandal to gain views and subscribers.”

Ámbar raised her eyebrows. “Really…”

And then they complained that it was she who pushed them to do these kinds of things. Look at them now. She didn’t even talk to them and they had planned a scam all on their own!

They could not blame her influence for this one, and Ámbar felt a little happy about that. It was almost vindication. Also, it served as proof that even ‘the good ones’ made bad deeds sometimes.

Contrary to her silent joy, Ramiro looked troubled.

“It was wrong what they did, I know that. But now that Benicio and Emilia know about it, they’re going to tell the whole world and I’m worried about what’ll happen to the girls.”

If Ámbar knew the internet at all, they were going to get a lot of hate once the news broke out. Backlash from a failed plan was something she was definitely familiar with.

“Well... you’re right,” she told Ramiro. “They did get themselves in this situation.” Just as she’d had to deal with the consequences of her actions, Delfi and Jazmín would have to deal with theirs.

“Yeah, but Benicio and Emilia shouldn’t get to enjoy it,” Ramiro retorted with frustration.

It was a good point. Yes, the girls had made a mistake, but Benicio and Emilia turning it into a victory of sorts for them didn’t sit well with her at all. It could be that all Delfi and Jazmín would have to face would be some angry comments, but to Delfi, and especially Jazmín, their followers’ opinions were important. It was going to be a hard blow.

“Although, maybe nothing will happen,” Ramiro continued on a hopeful note. “Even if Benicio and Emilia expose them, who will believe them? It’s not like they have a good reputation in the Fab & Chic or Ja Jazmín.”

“That’s a good point,” Ámbar agreed.

Ramiro looked pensive. “I think I’ll tell the girls anyway. Just in case.”

She nodded. “Yeah, better. I’ll be here all day so, if I see them, I’ll give them a heads up too.”

Ramiro smiled and gave a playful shove to her shoulder. “Look at you, being all nice. What happened to the ‘I don’t care about anyone or anything’ attitude?”

Ámbar shrugged with pursed lips. “I just think they have the right to know. Maybe if they have time to prepare themselves it won’t be so bad…” she averted her gaze. “I surely would’ve liked some heads ups.” About a lot of things.

She could feel his eyes on her in the silence that followed, but she wasn’t expecting what he said next.

“I know you didn’t mean to burn the rink.”

Surprised, Ámbar turned to see him. His gaze was kind as he showed her a sad smile.

“You do?” She asked hesitatingly.

“Yeah,” he confirmed assuredly. “You’re like me; skating is a part of us. To think that you’d intentionally destroy this place is absurd.”

Ámbar’s whole body reacted with energy and her hands rose to the sky. “Why, thank you! Finally someone uses some common sense!”

He laughed at her utter elation and she laughed in utter relief. Finally, finally someone believed her. Well, she assumed Simón believed her too since she doubted he would’ve gotten back together with her otherwise, but he hadn’t believed it at first, and it was nice to actually hear the words for once.

It gave Ámbar just a little hope. Maybe with time, more people would believe her too.

“Well, since I’m here, I think I’m gonna skate for a while,” Ramiro said, walking to his locker and opening it. He spun to look at her. “Wanna join me?”

She gave him a sorry smile. “Thanks but I have to work. I ignored my responsibilities for too long already.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later then,” he said with a smile, pulling out his skates.

“Okay.”

Ámbar walked out of the lockers and headed back to the cafeteria. The moment she stepped foot in there, the first thing she saw as if pulled in by a magnet, was Simón scrunched back as he talked with Luna, sat on the edge of the stage. He had his guitar over his legs, but even without it, she knew she would’ve recognized him. Just as her eyes always found him.

Her chest instantly filled with glee. It had only been a couple hours but, she realized that she had missed him.

Over his shoulder, Luna saw her and their gazes met. Quickly, she said something to Simón and stood, leaving him alone. She gave Ámbar a little smile as she walked to the other side of the bar and then sat in one of the couches.

Ámbar understood the gesture and returned the smile, albeit feeling a little weird. She still wasn’t used to being amicable toward Luna. She suspected it would take a while considering how long she had spent hating her guts. But she didn’t hate her anymore, and she was an important part of Simón’s life; that was a big reason for them to get along.

Luna must have come to the same conclusion, and Ámbar wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

***************

Fingerpicking was something Simón had struggled with when he first started playing guitar. Now it was something he did without thinking, or rather, it was something he could do automatically while thinking of something else entirely.

If he hadn’t been distracted, he probably would’ve heard the footsteps behind him. But he was and he didn’t, so when a pair of hands touched his shoulders and he felt a kiss on his cheek, he nearly jumped.

Simón spun in a flash and his heart skipped another beat when he saw that smile.

“Ámbar,” he said surprised as she happily took sit beside him. He left his guitar aside. “You arrived.”

He had wanted to see her all day but, now that she was there in front of him, he wasn’t sure what he felt. His head was a mess at the moment, too many worries and situations that may or may not happen fluttered around.

But seeing her smiling at him, looking at him with nothing but affection… it eased the knot of anxiety in his chest a little bit.

“Actually, you arrived. I’ve been here for some minutes now,” she informed him.

He was surprised once again. “What? Really? I didn’t see you.”

“Ah, I was in the lockers with Ramiro until now, that’s probably why. And you weren’t here when I arrived,” she explained. “Now I see why you went out. Did you get a strike of inspiration or something?” She asked, signaling to his guitar.

Simón brought his gaze to the instrument. “Something like that.”

He didn’t want to talk about his worries now that she was finally with him. Especially what had to do with her. She’d probably just scold him anyway for listening to Benicio in the first place. It was silly. It wasn’t worth it.

“Everything okay with Vidia?” he said instead, to avoid the topic. “You were out for a while.”

Ámbar blinked, and for one second, he thought he saw a change in her expression, but it was gone very quick.

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine, everything went well,” she replied smiling and held one of his hands.

Suddenly, he was reminded of how much he had wanted to hold her before. The feeling of her hand against his may have not been much, even friends held hands sometimes and it didn’t mean anything deep, but right now, it was reassuring. She was there, with him, sweet and tangible.

A shout came from afar.

“Ámbar!”

She turned around and Simón tilted his head to the left to look behind her. Ramiro was skating toward them, which was weird because that usually wasn’t allowed in the cafeteria. He was holding a white paper bag in one of his hands.

“You forgot your present.”

Ámbar let go of Simón’s hand and stood rapidly.

“Oh my god, thank you,” she said, and received the bag when Ramiro reached them. “How silly of me.”

Simón stood up as well and watched them. A bad feeling settled on the pit of his stomach; one he didn’t like but also couldn’t help. Why is Ramiro giving gifts to Ámbar? He thought. And, of course, the immediate reason was because they’re friends, but were they really that close already? Since when? And how close?

There was nothing wrong in Ramiro giving her something, he knew that, but Simón felt defeated all the same. He hadn’t even given Ámbar a gift yet and he was her boyfriend. Wasn’t he supposed to do those things?

Completely unaware of Simón’s discomfort, Ramiro smiled at Ámbar.

“You’re welcome, little princess,” he told her. With a wink. Then he looked at both of them and said, “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Just like that, he turned on his skates and began sliding back to where he came from. On the way, he was approached by Luna, who started following him. “Ramiro! Hi! How would you feel about being a background dancer?”

Simón barely registered all of that because his mind was still on the wink, on the gift, and on the ‘Little princess’.

Since when did they treat each other like that? Since when did they have pet names?

They’re just friends, he repeated to himself. But at the same time, he was hearing—

‘Now that she has you, let’s see how long it lasts.’

“Simón?”

His gaze snapped back to Ámbar.

“Yes?”

“You seemed kind of out of it for a second,” she told him.

He shook his head and tried to smile. “It’s nothing.” They’re just friends, they’re just friends.

Ámbar held the gift bag with both hands and Simón hated the way she seemed to handle it with care. Right as she started saying something, another voice called out for him.

“Simón!”

Simón turned to his left as Pedro rapidly came to his side, holding a tray with drinks on one hand and a note on the other. He had a rug on top of one of his shoulders and he seemed a little agitated.

“I’m sorry, could you make the orders for table three?” He asked. “I have my hands full.”

Simón felt a jab of guilt. Of course; it was probably lunchtime by now. Customers always went up at that time of the day, it was the reason why they usually took breaks after those hours. Simón should’ve been minding the clock, he should’ve been tuned in to that, Pedro shouldn’t have even had to ask.

“Yes, of course,” he replied immediately, receiving the piece of paper from him with the orders written down.

Pedro turned back to deliver the drinks while Simón quickly left the guitar in the stand on top of the stage and went behind the bar. He didn’t even look at Ámbar, feeling ashamed. The first thing she had seen after hours of being gone was him playing the guitar while he was supposed to be working and Pedro practically begging him to help out.

So he was not only a lousy boyfriend but a lousy employee as well. Great. Just great.

“Wait, could you take five minutes?” Ámbar told him. “I wanted to—”

“No, I’m sorry, I took enough minutes already,” he told her as his hands moved through ingredients. “I gotta help Pedro.”

To be honest, he feared whatever she might say at that moment. He didn’t want to hear it. The one thing he wanted right then was to stop feeling like a complete failure.

“Okay…” Ámbar said slowly. “Okay, sure. I’ll just grab my folder and I’ll let you work.”

She walked behind the bar and ducked to pull out her big green folder from under it. As she turned to leave, Simón felt the urge to grab her and tell her he’d give her as many minutes as she wanted. As many gifts as she could ever wish for.

He didn’t.

As he continued working, the voice inside his head calling him ‘loser’ didn’t even sound like Benicio anymore. It sounded like himself.

...

------------------------------

Y’all think that Ámbar is the human embodiment of ‘conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know’, but I actually think that Simón is as Elsa as Ámbar and I’m gonna prove it. Consider this chapter the prologue of my thesis: “Simón has been through shit too, he just smiles too much for you to see it.” Also, consider that thesis the part one of a trilogy called “No one deserves Simón and that is a FACT.”

Also, did anyone ask for more Rambar? Well, here you go, fresh out of the oven.

Hope you liked this and Part 2 should be done in about two weeks.

#simbar #simbar fanfic #simbar fic #simbar fanfiction #soy luna fanfiction #My Writing #roads that cross

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piimentels · 5 years ago

Text

fair play / zabdiel de jesús.

warning(s); shitty, school level spanish. (phrases only, no full sentences.) tiny amounts of vulgar language. also! read the a/n at the end, please.

recommendation(s); imagine this zabdiel as a mix between the de cero and pretend video.

1K words.

[PART 1/?]

You’re eyeing him inconspicuously — well, you hope so. Your eyes are dancing from the sudden influx of late-ish lunchtime customers, the break room, and then, finally, him. You know it’d be better for you both if you just decide to retreat to the break room to realign your sanity, but after performing the routine of looking to the customers and him, once, twice, three times, you decide to follow him instead.

“Y/N.” You can tell he is exasperated, due to the fact that his right hand is twitching at his side where the box rests, but you also know that he’s going to be nice. Well, as nice as he can be when he’s desperate to fit in a cigarette in his fifteen minute break.

“Zabdiel.” You don’t flinch or cough the way you used to when you say his name, instead your tone matches the one he gave you. Flat, but not that uninviting.

Zabdiel, however, ignores you calling out his name, instead flicking open the box to retrieve a cigarette. He curses under his breath as he realises there’s so little left, but withdraws one from the box anyway. Placing the cigarette between his stereotypically coloured bubblegum-pink mouth, his lips are pressing the stick into place as his hands cup the space around it.

An ember of a flame appears at the end of the cigarette, causing him to inhale, his eyes closed in relief. The stress from the day seems to ebb away as his eyes scrunch up, reddening the skin around them. His long, delicate lashes peek out from his closed eyes, and a genuine smile is curving up on his face.

Exhaling, he squints at you, with one warm honey brown eye lightened by the sun. A lightly ringed hand goes up to cover his face from the harsh November sun. Without removing the cigarette from his mouth, he says after some time, “Y/N.” his pronunciation of your name is precarious. He pauses again, as if considering his words. Finally, he removes the cigarette and speaks. “What do you want?”

“Can we share?” you nod your head to the cigarette. He blinks, unmoving, before bursting into short unbelieving laughter. He only laughs twice or so, but your edges are frayed. So, even though you’d never smoked a cigarette in your life, you reach for the one resting in his hand.

“¿Qué haces, chica?” An amused smile rests on his face as he sort of almost holds the cigarette out to you, seemingly tempting you. His expression is daring, and he’s waiting to see if you’ll take it. His singular eyebrow raised, he seems to almost whisper, ‘go on and take it – if you’re needy enough.’

You frown, yet still reach to take it. However, his hand jerks backwards, the knowing smile still lingering yet dampened by surprise. It’s obvious that he’d never thought you’d try take it, so he tuts, saying, “Ah, ah, ah,” as he shakes his head. “Don’t you know that cigarettes are bad?” Laughing, he mutters something under his breath, something in his native language that you fail to catch.

“Then … then why are you smoking one?” you fire back, and eyebrow raised to mock the expression he gave you before. “Hm?”

“Well you see, it’s much harder to stop after you start. You haven’t started yet. ¿Ya tu sabes?” He nods after choosing his words carefully, please with the answer he presented you with. He seems to suddenly remember the cigarette between his long, slender fingers, and places it between his lips again, drawing in a breath through his rosy kisser.

“And how do you know that I don’t smoke?”

Wheezing slightly, he tilts his head as if saying, ‘really?’ You see the tiniest peek on an image – a dragon? a snake? – inked on his neck as he does so. “You never smell of smoke, and you never, ever, ask anyone for one. Why today?” He looks away for a second as he taps the ash from the end of the cigarette.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

“Well, I guess I play fair. Here. Tomala.” His tattooed wrist flicks the cigarette easily and lazily to you.

“Thank you.” you take the cigarette from his surprisingly cold fingers, you swear you’ve only been out here for less than ten minutes and Zabdiel is an assigned dishwasher today. How you know that, though, is lost to you. The cigarette is warmer in comparison to his fingers, and you place it next to your lips, drawing in a breath. You hold in a cough disguised as a hiccup, and try to blow the smoke out the same way he did. Well, as best as you could. “Fuck.”

“Y/N ...” he drags out the last syllable from your name, shaking his head and grinning as he reaches for the cigarette. “Give it to me.”

You oblige, letting out the cough you desperately needed to. You hold back a second cough, however, because you don’t want to make it seem like you’re suddenly fighting for your life. “Jesus ... that was, uh, tough.”

“Um, you know you can call me by my first name, right? Also, it isn't even pronounced like that.”

“I know!” You protest, swatting him away. “I wasn't even using the word like that.” But it’s no use, he’s under your skin like a splinter, again, making you feel the heat under his glinting stare. You remember how he used to make you burn from something as simple as a hand on your however back when he was passing by, or even a fleeting glance.

“Ah,” he checks his watch, sighing as he stubs out his cigarette, only half used. “Well. I won’t catch you out, dulzura. I’m all about fair play.”

Zabdiel squeezes past you through the glass door leading to the restaurant, and you feel you back tingle as he places his hand on your back as he passes through the narrow deck. Just like the way he always used to. You stiffen, though he only touches you for what, a second?

He turns slightly, and his coral pink lips are by your ear. You smell the smoke on him more intensely now, and his breath is warm and fanning your face.

“But are you, princesa?”

And he’s gone.

author’s note; hey, hi i guess. this is the first time iv’e ever posted on tumblr so idk what i’m doing but! if anyone sees this i hope you enjoyed it, its slightly edited but will be revised again later on. also, i’m unsure if there will be a second part because as you can tell, this sucks. it sucks a lot. if you want to be friends message me please i’m literally begging please please please

imagine if you wanted to be on a taglist or whatever, (message me) ... haha, jk ...unless?

#zabdiel de jesus #cnco #erick brian colon #joel pimentel #richard camacho #christopher velez #cnco imagine #cnco fanfiction

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