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tarjapearce · 17 days

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Like Me Pt. 2

Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Scientist ! Reader

Art by Rendraws21 on X

WARNINGS: Mildly suggestive, power dynamics, emotional distress, endangering situations, Kraven being an asshole.

Summary: Your savior proves himself to be very much real.

A|N: Hope you like! I know you're waiting smut. Just bare with it! ;w; Reblogs and feedback are always welcome ❤️

Previous Miguelverse Main Masterlist

Kraven didn't dally and ordered the camp to be settled. The spot was rather good. A prime source of water and food next to you all, soil sturdy and perfect for withstanding the hard hammering of the tools that nailed the bases for the tents.

And after hours of bickering, russian cursing, more work and the crew doctor patching your arm up, the camp was settled and food served.

Each bite not only felt heavenly, but was scarfed down. You couldn't care less if Peter looked your way, mildly disgusted and surprised of your manners, or rather the lack of them while eating.

It was the least you deserved after surviving a ship sinking, getting lost in the jungle, being chased by a giant Jaguar and a man that left more questions than answers.

Who was he? More important, How had he survived all these years on his own?

After a second plate and extra slices of bread, one of the men approached and announced the readiness of your tent. One of the things you asked in your contract. To have your own, cause as much as you trusted Peter, there was nothing better than to have your own space and privacy in the midst of an unhealthy amount of testosterone surrounding you.

"We've eaten, replenished, and blah blah. What happened?" Peter mumbled while picking his and your plate together.

You shook your head softly as another crew member passed by. You didn't trust them, and Kraven had proved to be unpredictable.

One minute he cared for his crew and the other he was leaving you to fend for yourselves. But as long as you did your job, you wouldn't be part of the russian's guessing dangerous games.

"Kraven said we'd have to make do with the little tools we have. He spent a good time of the day trying to get some signal for the radio."

"Any luck?"

"None so far." Peter mumbled as he took your things inside your tent.

A hammock was the bed, a few boxes and other storage things were placed in a corner. A chalkboard and your investigation books in another corner and against all odds, a little broken mirror that acted as a poor attempt of a vanity ontop of another wooden box. Your hairbrush rested next to it. Whoever arranged it, at least had the consideration to make it as comfortable looking as possible.

In total, you had a couple of shirts and skirts left to use. The rest remained on the sea, floating and drifting away with unknown course.

Peter excused to go change himself and you seized the chance to do the same. Catching a cold in the jungle wasn't in your priorities list. Not with reduced medicine and victuals.

You put on a dry set and combed your hair out as much as you could. Peter joined you a couple of minutes later.

The fire cracked and sparked alive as the crew surrounded it. The day had been chaotic at best and everyone tried to soothe the nerves in their own way. Some drank, others sang, others talked and soon Kraven joined.

Others simply went to sleep. Too tired to keep up after a well deserved meal.

"So..." Peter started while sitting before you, a rag and some tubs on his hands. He was cleaning the remaining pieces of your equipment.

"Promise me you won't talk to anyone about this. And I mean it, Parker."

"I'm a geologist, not a snitch."

"I'm... kinda scared of what might happen if Kraven finds out"

"Now you're scaring me. What happened back there?"

"I know... who killed the beast Kraven is skinning." A gulp rolled down your throat upon remembering the lurid scene displaying before your eyes

"Wait... you said, who?"

A nod from you and Peter paled.

"We're not alone, that's for sure."

Peter rubbed his hands against his face, an exasperated groan escaped him.

"He's taller than Kraven."

"Bullshit." Peter mumbled almost immediate, surprised at your words.

"I'm not bullshittin' you Parker!" You had to hush your voice and soon grabbed a sketch notebook and begun tracing and drawing.

"He's freaking tall, long hair and he's naked. Well, not naked but a loincloth is everything but clothes if you think about it."

Peter frowned suspiciously as his hand pressed on your skin, to see if your body temperature had increased. Jungle fever was one of the worst things a human could suffer when away from their homeland. Cause he refused to believe anything of the nonsense that came out of your mouth was true.

A man taller than Sergei? Impossible. He was tall, but Sergei had been one of the tallest and well built men he had ever came across with.

"What are you doing?" You pushed his hands away and frowned.

"I'm sorry, I do want to believe you but.."

"I'm telling you the truth, Pete! He had... This... red hue on his eyes and fangs!"

"Fangs?" The incredulity in Peter couldn't be hidden the more he listened to your apparent rave.

"He's fucking strong, Pete. He was holding that beast by his tail! and then fought body to body against it! and He's so damn touchy. No respect for personal space!."

"And what? He smashed the jaguar to death and then kissed you?"

"Yes!" You nodded but quickly frowned when Peter tittered on his seat, unable to keep the mirth away.

"Why are you laughing?!"

"I'm sorry. You know we've been friends since college, but you seriously can't expect me to believe that, Dally."

A short for Dalhberg. The surname that put your name out in the researcher's map in London, upon discovering and naming another type of daisy and named it after you. The Dalhberg Daisy.

"You believe in the freaking Queen but refuse to believe in this?"

"I believe in the Queen's acquisitive power, nothing else. Cause I've seen it!" He explained, skeptical.

You showed him the sketch and shoved it to his hands.

"Look at that! That's exactly how he looks like!"

Peter sighed and raked over his eyes on the semi-crumpled paper sheet. Sharp features, a strong jaw and deep eyes.

"Yeah, a haircut would make him look better though." he chuckled, "Look, I know it's been a long day for us... let's rest, ok? We've got another tomorrow."

With a frown you removed the sketchbook away and tossed it on the makeshift vanity.

"He's real." you pointed at the sketchbook

"Okay, okay. He's real. We can discuss it all tomorrow when we're less tired, alright?" He held your shoulders, trying to ease your rising anger.

But you quickly removed his hands from you, hurt that your best friend didn't believe you. "Whatever. Goodnight."

Peter left with a defeated sigh and soon you cuddled in your hammock.

"I know he's real." With a huff, you pushed the pillow closer to your face, letting the day's weight to finally crash on you.

-----

The loud bangs of a gunshot echoed through the bright blue skies, frightening any local fauna that rested comfortably, like you, that nearly fell out the hammock from the initial jumpscare.

With a heavy exhale, and rub of your eyes you geared up for the day.

This time Kraven was thoughtful enough to give you a weapon. A small knife with enough sharp to slice and dice through anything weak enough to perish under the blade.

And soon everyone gathered to the morning structions. Kraven split up the crew in three parts. The first group of men would go to the beach to recover as much equipment as they could. The second group would be in charge to set up traps and hunt down for food. And the third one, meaning Peter, you, two more men and himself would go explore and study the jungle in order to gain any sort of information of new potential species.

You carried a small backpack, filled with your sketchbook, pencils, some essay and sample tubes and some snacks in case Kraven decided to return until dinner time.

And after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruits, everyone left.

Peter walked behind Sergei, guiding the group whenever the mercenary asked him to. You were in the middle as the other two men trailed with their guns behind.

Morning slowly poured into hours. Tortuous, running at the speed of a snail. Each breathing felt like adding more to the waiting, bringing your nerves to a much annoyed stance.

But it quickly melted away upon finding your first discovery.

The grass laid pressed in a circular pattern on the ground. The leaves were placed strategically, as if used as cushions in great amounts. A couple of fruit carcasses laid next to them. Discarded and forgotten.

"Look at that" The excitement in your voice beyond evident. You crouched to see if there was any other clues to your growing suspicion.

Kraven and Peter stopped upon you crouching to the floor.

"What is it?" Kraven pulled his gun from it's holster and walked over you.

"These are nests!"

"Nests?" His brow quirked and you nodded vigorously, to then count the spots. Around six in total.

"You know what that means? They live in packs! Gorillas live in packs!"

"About damn time we found something." Kraven nodded, pleased as he helped you up to then mark a spot in his map.

"Good job, Dalhberg."

Praised the mercenary before moving.

When the sun got high enough and Peter discovered some other findings like rare minerals, the group decided to take a break nearby a lake.

The five of you sat down and ate whatever thing you got left from breakfast.

Once you were done, you took your backpack, pencil and sketchbook with you.

"Where are you going?" Kraven grumbled after gulping down the water from his canteen.

"Saw some specimens of plants Id like to register. Won't take long."

"You better return as soon as possible, understood?"

The mercenary warned and you nodded while walking away from the tree. Excited to partake in the things you were brought and paid to do.

Your first specimen was a moss plant, then a new type of orchid. A fish, some birds and more plants. Even though you studied everything alive, the plants were your speciality.

You put the little backpack in a a nearby trunk as you sat down to draw yet another orchid. The place seemed flooding with them.

Engrossed beyond wits to notice you had drifted off a bit too far from the group and a little too late a baboon sniffing and ransacking your backpack.

"H-Hey! Hey! -The baboon took the backpack away, excited and driven by the tinkling within "Get back here!"

The animal hopped on the trees before you could catch it, with graceful and effortless agility, to finally stop to a sturdy looking and serpent-like shaped trunk above the middle of a swamp.

As much as you wanted to let the monkey get away with it all, you didn't want to face Kraven's anger for losing the last bit of equipment and delay the investigation. You didn't know when the next ship would arrive. None did actually.

It's hoots and chirping only increased the more things he pulled out of your backpack. The tubs shattered as they fell off.

"Stop it!" you shrieked while hopping onto the trunk with wobbly and uneven steps.

The monkey hooted louder until it started shrieking, as if mocking you whenever your balance failed and you were forced to crawl over the top.

"God, I swear... if I catch you, I'm so making an article on how annoying you are!"

The baboon just screeched at your silly threat once more before leaving your backpack pending from a twig as he jumped way through the stretched branches that favored him like open arms, with your bag of seeds.

Your breath hitched when the trunk creaked and some cracking around the base perked up your ears.

Shit.

You couldn't stop and return crawling from where you came from, not when the backpack was oh so close to be reached and your nightmare to be over.

With a deep breath, you crawled closer and closer. Paused breaths turned controlled, but quickly grunted when the hem of your skirt stuck in a jagged branch.

"No, no" You whined and pulled away, the trunk creaked harder and you immediately hugged the trunk.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" with a firm yet calculated yank, you ripped the fabric away, freeing yourself although losing a good chunk of front coverage.

A thunderous crack made your breath hitch and you moved forward as the trunk stuttered midair. It was then your eyes actually considered the generous and dangerous distance from your position to the murky water. But the backpack dangling before you, edged you to take a risky decision.

Or you took the backpack and threw it on land, hoping to take the least damage as possible or jumping to that other branch to avoid falling to the water.

None of them happened as the tree dipped forward, and with a dying groan, the cracks widened, tearing the feeble base of the trunk, unable to support your weight any longer.

As in slow motion, you saw the murky water closer and closer and closer, until nothing but darkness swallowed you whole. Cold and muddy water hit you, suffocating your body with enraged water that fought hard to drown you.

Your hands were the only thing that made it out as they failed. The sub aquatic flora begun their tangling in your boots and legs, pulling you down.

Your lungs burned as some water seeped through, the backpack sunk deeper and deeper. Like a sacrifice in exchange of your life. Because a strong pair of tanned hands pulled you with a powerful yank by the forearm, out of the water before death and crocodiles owned it.

Your head too dizzy to actually understand what was happening. Your eyes could only see the landscape sliding smoothy underneath your feet, like if you were flying.

Am I dead? Dead people don't fly, do they?

You shrieked as soon as your eyes looked upwards. Powerful and solid thighs held tightly on the growing vines, that spurted from underneath the gigantic trees, as one of his hand took your arm gently to suddenly pull you up in the air and catch you in his arms.

Your instincts told you to hold onto him as the other survival mode blared with danger alarms. The massive wall of solid muscles he had for a body was warm, full of scars and plush hair that did nothing but welcome your dizzy head on his chest.

The man quirked a brow at your sudden state. He frowned and quickly got over the foliage of a tree, before the pouring rain trapped you both.

You were put with ease against the solid and definitely not rotting trunk, and your body lurched to the side to expell away the swallowed water, clearing your airways.

A firm slap from his hand made your lungs to finally get some air as you gasped and coughed, all the while he watched you curiously.

You were drenched, against a tree, clothes sticking way too intimately against your shivering body, breathing like you were a first born, raged and fast. Lungs burned less.

Eyes finally widened when recognizing the man before you. Some fresh scars littered his Greek-god type physique.

"T-Thank you." You mumbled through clattering teeth and forced yourself to take a deep inhale to control the rising anxiety.

He grunted and approached. One of his hands slid gently under your chin to take a hold of your cheek. Your head instinctively melted into his heavenly body heat, and your eyes dared to shut for a minute. Relishing in the irradiating warmth his calloused hands provided.

He's so warm.

As if sensing the good deed, the man rubbed his hands on your cold arms, mindful of the patches around your arm, a couple of times before going back up to your cheeks and neck.

You gasped as soon as his hands were placed on your chest. His hands gently palming your breast but quickly let them go upon feeling your hardened nipples. You quickly covered your chest

He watched his hands, as if inspecting them for any damage when he felt the hardened nub, to then return to your arms, prying them away from your chest.

"Wait!"

You shrieked and he took both of your wrists with one hand and hovered them above your head, squishing them against the tree, softly. His eyes raked and took in every feature of you, before stopping at your chest again.

Your breath hitched as he slid the other hand inside your shirt. Cheeks turned impossibly warmer when he took one of your breasts and pulled it out of their confinements.

He examinated the perky mound with puppy wonder-like curiosity and then looked down his own chest. He frowned. His didn't swell like yours did.

"Wh-What are you doi-" you bit your lip as he poked your nipple, sniffed it and licked it. Earning a short mewl from you.

The sound startled him and he let you go.

"T- That's not a polite thing to do!"

You quickly put the breast back and swung your hand to slap him. You had to admit his reflexes were something else cause it caught it before it collided against his face.

"How dare you?!" You struggled to let your hand go, but stopped your outburst when his eyes watched your hands and brought them before his ever curious face.

His own hand reached up, and placed itself before yours, comparing the stretched and long digits against your smaller ones. They weren't the same size, that was much true, but the texture and lines he had were the same on yours.

His eyes shone brighter than any bewilderment. His mind had finally clicked together at the sudden epiphany that flooded his brain.

You were like him.

He pursed his lips before letting out an excited grunt. He backed away to create enough space for his arms to move freely.

He pointed to himself and spoke with the deepest yet excited voice he could manage.

"Miguel."

Your eyes went wide and you approached. He tried again while pointing at his chest.

"Mi guel."

"Miguel." His nose flared proudly and his throat grunted happily.

"Oh! I see!"

His ears perked up upon hearing your name.

"OhIsee!" He repeated.

But you quickly corrected him, with your name as you pointed to yourself and then called his name as you pointed at him.

A buttery crawl rolled down your spine as he mumbled your name.

"Exactly." you smiled.

He cupped your face again and mumbled your name once more. However, the sound of a gunshot tearing through the skies disrupted his attention from you and stood at the edge of the branch.

"Kraven" You gasped. Completely forgetting about him and the group.

Oh no...

Trouble was a tiny word of the deep neck shit you were into. Another shot rippled through, frightening the birds in the ratio.

"Kraven!" He repeated, excited.

Extraordinary. There wasn't any word to describe him better. He took you back, trapping you in between his muscular thighs and swinging through vines.

The more you approached the camp, the clearer you saw this massive black and brown spots moving away from the settlement.

Your hearth thumped with violence upon finally standing before a small group of gorillas, sniffing and hooting softly upon seeing Miguel.

Your savior wasted no time in pulling you closer to them. You shook your head, rightfully frightened.

"No, no, no wait!"

The gorillas huffed to then sniff your head, your clothes. Some even pulled at your hair softly, others examinated the clothes you were in.

Another gunshot echoed closely this time and it was loud enough to spook out the beasts out that pulled Miguel with them. You could only watch him, wide eyed, expectant. But he left.

"Miguel..."

----

Kraven wasn't one for losing his temper with women. But you, had the annoying ability to make his patiece turn to dust in the least opportunes of moments.

"I asked you, where the fuck have you been?!"

He dragged you to the center of the crew and threw you on the floor.

"I told you, I almost drowned! Why do you think I'm like this?!"

Kraven spat a few words in his native language under his breath and grunted

"You lost your equipment, didn't you?"

"I... I tried to get it back but I almost drown in the swamp, Sergei!" you explained with nothing but the truth

"You can't swim, don't you bullshit me.!"

"I'm telling you the truth!"

"Then how you survived!?"

Peter frowned as he looked at you.

"I was saved. Ok? A man saved me!"

"A man?"

"He's... Not like us. He's taller than you and he saved me!" you kept pressing, hoping the angered mercenary understood that you didn't do anything in purpose to upset him.

"He knows how to swing through the vines! And dropped me here! His name is Miguel. "

Everyone stared with derision at you and Peter seemed concerned you stuck with your story so bad to the point of risking your own neck and reputation.

Kraven' brows furrowed into a scowl and soon he pulled his revolver out and pointed at you.

Your face turned to panic, as your hands rose shakily.

"A savage named Miguel helped you?"

"He did! Otherwise you'd still be looking for me."

Kraven snorted without removing the gun's aim from your body.

"Funny you think I'd waste my resources to look up for a stupid woman like you."

"Please, you have to believe me! I saw gorillas around the camp!"

Kraven removed the safety pin from the revolver, as if peeved you'd waste his time and resources into being an idiot and not doing your work as he required.

Time was ticking and he still had no news, and for you to be fantasizing about savages and doing stupid things such as endangering yourself had proved you weren't reliable.

"You're not reliable, anymore, Dahlberg."

"No! Sergei listen to me-"

He pointed the gun once more to you "I can't keep unreliable people within my crew."

"I'm not lying!" You pleaded with all your might and tears in your eyes, "Miguel is-"

Before Sergei could push the tip of his revolver on your head and shoot, the earth underneath rumbled, as Miguel fell in between you.

Real.

Kraven stepped back as the imaginary savage was now fully standing before him. His head had to crane up to meet his burning ember eyes.

Miguel's lips snarled at him, showing his fangs and beating his chest. A clear challenge for him to fight him.

A collective round of gasps echoed through the men, but when Miguel bared his teeth, they all pulled their guns and pointed at him

"Stop!" You yelled and quickly scrambled to your feet to take Miguel's hand and shake your head with determination.

"Don't hurt him!"

Peter immediately got himself before you and rose his arms, showing he was no armed.

"I'm sure we can reach an agreement here without filling eachother with bullets, gentlemen"

"Shut up, Parker!" Sergei seethed and with a deep flare of his nose, pointed the gun at Miguel again, but Peter grabbed the weapon and the shot tore through the air again.

"Kraven" Miguel grumbled at the gun shot sound.

Said mercenary could only watch him, nonplussed for a moment. While you, again, stood your ground before the behemoth of a man. Attempting your best at protecting him.

"Have... we met before?" Kravinoff spoke confused.

"I told you he could speak! And he is real!"

Miguel remained glued at your side. Everyone slowly put their weapons down as Kraven approached to take a proper look at Miguel, fascinated by his sheer size and build.

Peter had to admit, that it was the last time he'd ever doubt your words.

"You said you had seen gorillas?"

Again, you nodded and Miguel repeated the word.

"Miguel knows them. He could help us."

"Help us? The man barely understand us, but... It's better than nothing I suppose."

Sergei scrunched his face in confusion as Miguel took strands of your hair and sniffed them, his senses awakening in pure adrenaline. Throat grunted approvingly.

"Yeah... kind of understand the personal space thing now." Peter cleared his throat behind you. The rest kept looking to see but quickly were dismissed by their leader.

"Oh, shut up." You grumbled nervously as Miguel pulled your head to his chest once more, to listen to his powerful heartbeats.

"Yeah, it's very very nice." You chuckled nervously with a soft flush creeping your cheek.

"Nice." He repeated.

Kraven could only watch but if he was the link towards the gorillas, he'd seize the chance in every way he could.

"He's way smarter than you think."

"We're running against time, how would he understand us, Dhalberg?"

Miguel moved to inspect Kraven, mimicking his gestures effortlessly. Earning a giggle from you.

"Leave that to me."

-------

Taglist:

@yhrlocalcyprus @nommingonfood @literatiastray @call-me-nyxx @gennirose @loonalockley @danubliat @marit332 @beabfleab @l3lazeit @lililapuce @prollyanvycchi @huehuehuehuehehe @nanamiscunt @ncj2837ndjcj @leviswifey-act62 @migueloharacumslut @migshusben @freehentai @animequeen4

@del-ightfulling @angel-of-the-moons

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Miguelverse #tarzan au

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

fighting • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), boxer!au, kind of e2l Warnings: idrk shit about boxing so i threw in some illegal stuff i suppose fjskdjf, swearing, fighting/sparring/boxing obviously, they're a little mean to each other but down bad and thirsty, mentions of blood/broken bones, marking/bruising, slapping, hand job, nasty oral (male receiving - you're welcome deekay), kissing eheh, humiliation kink... look - seokmin's cocky but melts for reader WC: 4k A/N: spur of the moment collab (enforcer of evilness): in your corner by @onlymingyus can't believe she encourages me like this 😭 ❤️ side note: seokmin is wayyyy too pretty to be a boxer imho haha anyways, my fingers slipped and i'm a lil nervous abt this one but i hope you enjoy it hehe

"Lee Seokmin!"

Your shout echoes menacingly in the almost empty training gym. A straggler who had been spending a little too long looking at their phone by the exit doors quickly scurries out as the vengeful air that surrounds you luckily heads in the opposite direction.

The man in question — whose name is bitter upon your tongue — looks up as you approach. Your stride is purposeful, not faltering even as his dark brown eyes remain steadily trained on you all the way up to pausing in front of him. Putting one hand on your hip and the other on the punching bag that he is very much not using like it's supposed to be.

"Strange how only you and my family will be the ones to know me by that."

"Yes, what do they call you? DK, Lee Dokyeom, the Black Jaguar… a man whose uppercut to his opponents is as sharp as his jawline."

He dares to show off that very same feature with long fingers tilting up his chin smugly and a smirk on his face. "Someone's been reading up on me."

"It's my responsibility to make sure you have good publicity. Which will all go right down the drain if this is how you act after one win. Your first win. And the only you'll ever have again."

"Harsh, Coach. Finally paying attention just to scold me, breaks my heart!" Seokmin says it with light ease though, the megawatt smile that's gaining popularity brightening at your dark scowl that just makes you look cuter to him.

Which in theory, is dangerous. You're not someone to be messed with. There's a reason you're his trainer. A strong purpose as to why you don't fight in the ring anymore and choose to stay on the sidelines. Behind the scenes. Giving young and raw talent the tools they need to dominate the matches under your strict tutelage.

"Don't worry, I was paying great attention when you sparred with Jace."

"Yeah? And?"

"Just 'cause you ran with the big dogs for a little bit and won means nothing. You're no alpha and this isn't a playground. It's — "

" — a battleground. Your battleground. Where everything begins and the only reputation on the line that matters is yours. I know, you've said it over and over — "

"Then why are you just throwing this bag around like it's a child on a swing?" The glare after getting a familiar lecture repeated back to you is directed to survey his body. Upper body muscles clearly visible through the unnecessarily large arm holes of a gray muscle tee. Lean legs shown off by black shorts had every other person in the gym side-eyeing out of jealousy. "You're going to lose everything you've worked so hard to gain."

"Worried 'bout me?"

"Yes. Your footwork was horrible, which isn't like you. Something's up."

"Indeed."

"What?"

A large hand thumps against the heavy bag just a bit above yours. Auburn bangs threaten to tickle your forehead when he leans on the back of his palm to get close. Very close. Probably too close. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Not really," you admit, never one to back down or away and meet his cocky stare straight-on, "but if I'm to keep my star fighter up to standard, there are things that need to be done." Tilting your head toward the right, you narrow your eyes. "Get on the mat."

The minute he steps back to obey, you're free to turn and head there yourself. Seokmin lags a step behind. Unusual, but his whole entire behavior has been more than strange today so you ignore it. Luckily also missing the discreet way his gaze skims your body from behind and licks his lips.

"Don't treat this like a therapy session," you instruct once he's in position across from you. "We'll do a couple of drills and you can share what's on your mind. I'll kindly listen."

"How sweet."

"Don't patronize me."

"Isn't that what you're doing to me?"

"I'm helping like I always do. On the balls of your feet — good, now you know this one."

"You try to hit my legs, I avoid and dodge, and vice versa."

A scoff escapes your lips. "Trying to hit you? Please. Whatever, keep your heels up!"

Seokmin lunges forward, aiming for your bare inner thigh. You're quicker though. Eagle-eyed and experienced. Also used to his movements after observing him tirelessly for months. He always aims for what he wants first. You dodge before he can even get close enough and dart behind his figure. Pleased when he side steps away from the hand going for the back of his calf and spins around to face you again.

"Nice. Why didn't you do that earlier?"

"Sparring with Jace is boring."

"So you're just going to give up."

"Sure, if it gives me the chance to spar with you instead." He attempts for your knee this time and you pick it up at the right second to spring out of reach with the power of your other foot. "I learn more and do better."

"That's the nature of the game but you're doing a good deed by helping train and encourage some of the newbies in my place. They admire you."

Rolling his eyes and ducking away from your next strike, he spits out, "Not as much as they worship you."

"Hah, you wanna be worshiped, Seokmin? Then do better. Even the most mundane fights keep you active and on your guard. Complacency is a fool's move, a complete loss, and an admission of pathetic defeat."

"How am I supposed to improve when you won't pay attention to me anymore?"

You block the hand that shoots out way too high above your waist. Irritation gnaws at your gut the same time as you bite your lip, taking a moment to adjust your sports bra before deciding the next move. Elastic snaps against your skin and he gulps. "Hands below the belt, Lee!"

"Sorry, Coach."

"No, you're not! Your head isn't staying in the ring. Why? Because I only spend two hours Monday, Wednesday, and Friday training you rather than five every day like before? My apologies for dedicating so little of my already busy time to you."

"That's not what… I thought we had something okay!"

He suddenly stops moving and you end up delivering a much harsher slap than intended where he had aimed at you originally — the inner side of his thigh. Seokmin grunts and you seethe, straightening to your full height. "Honestly, is this a joke to you?"

"No, I — "

"It's not that I don't think you wouldn't have gotten anywhere because your talent is obvious. But you got there a lot faster because I saw what no one else did at the time." You dig a pointer finger accusingly into his chest. "And you're throwing it all away, spitting in everyone's face that supported you for such a petty reason? You and I both know you should've been able to avoid that slap!"

And for the first instance since you'd met him all that time ago at the street fights, Seokmin gets angry. Even when he was betrayed and abandoned in the dangerous underground boxing rings by people he considered friends, after losing round after round repetitively because he was initially too afraid to hurt others in order to survive, mocked and jeered while being cheated out of what should have been his first win a month ago — he simply smiled and moved on.

But now his face hardens, the gentle light snuffed out in his eyes, lips curled downwards, and eyebrows furrowed. He takes a menacing step toward you with fists clenched. And as expected, you don't even flinch.

"Petty? Hah, you accuse me of being petty when this is the first time we've actually had a chance to talk 'cause you've avoided me ever since that ring girl kissed me!"

Heat burns in your cheek. Anger or shame, you're not quite sure. "So?"

"So tell me. Talk to me. Goddammit, even fight me!"

"You wanna fight, Seok?" you growl, "and then what?"

"Winner gets a wish granted."

"How cliché. Arms up, then!" Yours raise to match his stance, eyeing the veins that ripple with tension across his forearms. "Anything's fair game?"

"Anything is fair game."

"Then you'd better be ready to fight for your life."

There's a certain thrill to sparring with him. He's right. Jace is boring. Seokmin isn't just some kid that wanted to pick up boxing as a hobby. This man entered the ring because everything rides on him winning. Succeeding. Excelling.

And he's threatening to throw it away like it doesn't matter. Give away everything he'd put blood, sweat, and tears into. What you and his loved ones had sacrificed for his growth. Why? Because of you? Because of feelings? Believing in something so wholesome amidst this crummy world? Your blood boils, fierce glare set as his rather mean smile gets even crueler.

"Talk with your fists," you had once informed him during a training session. Ever since, you'd dutifully read every one of his punches, getting a clearer intent of the message he's sending with each swing. Encouraging aggression. Gaining control. Demanding respect. Elevating his status. Shooting for the top. The best of the best.

Now, you can only see hot red annoyance. All of it aimed at you. It's reflected back right back though. Adrenaline surges through your veins, easily blocking the jabs, hooks, and cross punches he throws and parrying them back with solid hits. Hits that land hard. A sharp kick to his shin has him stumbling back against the heavy ropes of the ring with a curse and hitting them out of frustration.

"Done already?"

"As if."

A pleased sneer lifts your lips upwards. Seokmin probably thinks you're goading him further, and even though you aren't intending to, it works. His movements gain momentum, striking at you harder. But they also get sloppier.

You frown. "Sometimes I just want to… "

"Punch me in the face?" He dodges the strike to his shoulder and returns with one to your ribs that's too easy to evade. "Haven't you done that enough to satisfy yourself?"

"Hardly. Now stop leaving yourself open!"

A roundhouse kick doesn't even come near his face and he knows it won't, letting it whack his shoulder. After a couple of rounds of bruising his cheeks in the early days of training, you never did it again. Not when he'd arrived at your doorstep one night — absolutely beaten bloody during a vicious scuffle. You'd nursed his wounds while berating him with well-intentioned advice on how to not let that happen ever again.

You might've also let slip that he's too pretty for his face to get messed up. Must've gone to his head a little.

Here's the thing. You're the undisputed, reigning champion of the boxing world. Both professional and underground. Even the so-called king of the illegal matches acknowledges your prowess. It's inevitable for someone who was the fastest to stake their name on the brilliant TV screen and scribbled on loaded betting cards.

Seokmin knows he can't beat you. Ever. But you actually have more faith in him, satisfied when he manages to catch your fist in his hand. Rules don't exist when you two spar. Familiar with underhanded techniques, he uses them to his advantage. Still holding onto your fist, he takes your feet out from under you with a side sweep to your ankles and throws you to the ground.

You're pinned beneath him, all his weight holding you down. Trapping your arms behind your back with one hand and the other slamming against the mat near your head. You feel his hot breath brush your ear as he whispers with an edge to his voice, "Done now?"

Rather than respond, you relax your muscles. Lulling him into a false sense of security. The minute you feel him release some of the pressure, you're kicking his thighs back and rolling over before his body weight can crush you again. Maneuvering your core as you push against his unbalanced shoulder and scramble on top of him. Knee to his chest, forearm against his throat, and free hand securing his wrists.

"As if."

He sighs. "I could never beat you anyways."

"Not exactly true. If I was simply pro, you would certainly have the upper hand."

"But you're aware I could never hurt you so what do you want? Me to leave you alone?"

You study his features in silence. It's unnerving enough for Seokmin to want to divert his eyes. But where? He blinks rapidly instead and your eyes are drawn to where his tongue peeks out to nervously moisten his lips. His wrists twitch when your grip turns lax and he unintentionally slips out of it to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"I've been in that very position far too many times that it's as easy as breathing to get out of. I can teach you the technique."

"Well, I'll definitely be feeling it in the morning."

"Are you hurt badly?" you reposition your lower body to straddle him, feeling at his sides. "Where?"

"Don't worry 'bout it, what's your wish?"

You mull it over. Tonguing at your cheek and hands stilling to play with the threads hanging from the bottom of his shirt's armholes. "Normally, winners get a congratulatory kiss."

"Do you say that to all the guys you body slam to the floor?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Seokmin leans up on his forearms so his nose brushes yours. "Yeah."

The words, "Maybe just you," are interrupted by a gasp that's swallowed by his mouth when it slams against yours. It's a ferocious kiss that brings his head back down on the mat, cushioned by your arms as your body follows.

Electrifying. The same surge of energy that fills you when fighting him but in a much different manner. Thrillingly.

When you lean back, biting his bottom lip as you go, he groans. Fingers splayed against the bare skin of your back prevent you from moving too far and you have no choice but to feel the hardness stirring within his gym shorts.

"You know that kiss… that kiss meant nothing."

"The one with Aeyong?"

"Was that her name? And of course, most certainly you didn't mean ours." He pulls you back down to mold his lips to yours again. "Or that one." Placing a smooch on your nose. "Or that one!"

It takes everything within you to not giggle at his silliness. But nothing can stop the tender smile gracing your lips as you cup his chin, angling his head this and that way to cover his face in kisses, especially where you recall landing a blow to.

Seokmin has no trouble hiding his giddiness, happy chuckles turning to pleasured sighs when you start nibbling on his earlobe. "I hope you know these kisses though… they mean everything."

He's spent far too long denying his attraction to you that it's impossible to hold back now. You answer him with another kiss so he can feel your returned smile against his lips, threading fingers through his hair. Then you're yanking at the silky strands so his neck is exposed and the moan he lets out has your cunt automatically clenching while you suck a bruise to darken his skin.

"Want to cash in my wish now."

It takes a few moments for him to blink back to reality and register what you said. "Didn't you already?"

"Kisses are obligatory, not what I wished for." You choose to swivel your hips, slow and methodical, down against his. "You would deny me?"

"N-no, 'course not. What… do you want?"

"To suck you off."

"… Really?"

You're already sliding down his body and playing with the band of his shorts when you hum in confirmation. Tugging them down the second his hips lift instinctively, cock almost slapping you in the cheek when you do. You don't complain, simply wrapping a hand around its thick and heavy girth to steady it. Rough calluses from years of fighting rub pleasurably at the gentle foreskin.

"So pretty," you murmur. Of course, it would be as lovely as he is — red and leaking to match flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. "Too pretty for such a dirty boy who likes getting his dick sucked for anyone to see." When it twitches in your grip, you grin wickedly. "Always knew you had a thing for humiliation."

"Says the one who enjoys destroying and taunting me. Think I didn't notice how you squeeze your thighs together after giving me shit on my form?"

"You're cute. When you get all huffy," you make another mark on the inside of his thigh, licking at the sting smarting right below his mole, "it makes me want to ruin you more."

"Gonna be the death of me."

"Did you think I hadn't noticed you checking me out, Seok?"

"Was hoping you wouldn't."

"Silly," you deliver a light slap to the thigh you hadn't hit earlier and he tries to hide a whine despite his legs betraying him with telltale tremors, "and cute."

You and everyone else that comes to your gym are able to wear skimpy clothing that allows for easier movement simply because any perverts trying to touch or get a sneaky peek are swiftly kicked (out). But you enjoyed Seokmin's eyes on you and you know he enjoyed yours on him as well. So you let it be. Maybe all for this moment.

Covering the muscular ridges of his thighs in bite marks, hickeys, and shiny saliva trails while he begs for more of them, whimpering out an admission of, "Show everyone I'm yours so not a single ring girl even thinks to kiss me."

"I quite like that idea." You sincerely do though you probably like the blemishes left on his honey golden skin even more. "But you have to win again for one of them to consider it."

"I'll win."

"Yeah? Promise?"

"Pr-promise," he stutters out as you creep higher and higher to nuzzle at his heavy balls. Licking in between them teasingly before your tongue traces the prominent vein running along the underside of his cock, all the way up to the tip. "Win 'em all in your favor."

You hesitate briefly then stick your fingers inside tight spandex shorts and past your tiny thong to lather them in the wetness pooling from your pussy that's threatening to seep through and ruin the layers of fabric. Retracting before you're tempted to finger yourself right then and there, you reach for Seokmin only to jolt when he tugs at your wrist and puts them in his mouth, moaning greedily.

His tongue swirls around each finger, cleaning them of your essence thoroughly, and coating them with his spit instead. He wiggles his eyebrows as you watch — flabbergasted — and releases them with a pop once satisfied.

"I hope you weren't planning on doing that right in front of me without at least letting me have a taste."

You fix him with a serious stare. "You're going to have to train harder than anything and prove to me that you won for yourself. Not me, not anyone else. All for you."

"And then what?"

"Maybe I'll let you fuck me."

He wants to complain for various reasons but you don't give him time to think, wrapping your slick hand around his now slicker cock. Rubbing your thumb across the slit of its tip and spreading the excess of precum up and down his shaft, your mouth replaces your hands that choose to press down on his thighs and prevent him from thrusting up.

There's nothing to grip or grab at out here in the open on the boxing ring mat with anyone able to walk in on the two of you making a different kind of sweaty mess upon it despite how unlikely that happening is. You find that you don't even care — it might even excite you — empty cunt getting spongier and wetter, already addicted to Seokmin's salty taste. Noticing how his fingernails dig into the canvas, you guide them on top of your head. Giving him permission to set the pace if he so chooses to.

And he does. Alternating between slow bobs that let you kitten lick and pay attention to every single inch of his long cock versus harsh, fast up and down motions where you happily gag around his length. Whimpering and soft moans, breathless praises that make no sense as he listens to your pretty noises.

"Always wanted… like this. Imagined you getting on your knees… every time… you pushed me harder."

It's funny. Seokmin almost had his nose broken during a match yet he hadn't winced a single bit while you fussed over him and gave the opponent a tongue-lashing lecture because of the illegal fake-out move he'd conducted. Maybe if it had been a fight in the dungeons you'd let it go but on the professional mat that led to your star spilling blood — vengeance was your middle name.

But now with your mouth on him, he's significantly weaker, vulnerable, and soft — so hard yet so soft. And no matter how strong you want him to be to succeed, maybe the sick part of you really likes how you alone can reduce him to a state like this.

"Always been you, no one else." His sincere tone is slurred with lust, simultaneously trying to hurtle towards that sweet climax but also delay it as much as possible. Afraid for the moment to end but longing for release. "My anchor."

And he treats you like one, holding your head down firmly. Nose pressing into his pelvis as he gives into the rush of endorphins. Your throat constricts and swallows around his length that throbs and spurts an endless load of cum.

When he lets you go, you gulp the extra remnants left on your tongue and wipe your lips. Grateful and proud of having one less thing to clean up. Seokmin squints at you, panting wildly as you politely tuck his softening cock back into his shorts and stand up.

"Wh-what… what about you?" He won't lie and say he's not a bit hopeful you're going to sit on his face. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Of course not," you rasp, cracking your jaw and neck as a point. Then you stick out your hand, a familiar indication that you'll help him up. "Let me show you how to do that move."

He blinks and cocks his head. "I don't mind being under you. But I was thinking… in a different way?"

"You just were underneath me."

"C'mon Coach, you know what I mean!"

"How about this — we wait for your dick to get hard while you learn this move. But you have to promise I'll be able to walk tomorrow. And no marks. Now, on your knees."

"That's not fair!" Seokmin pouts and refuses to budge. "You underestimate me and won't let me be possessive. I wasn't lying when I said they worship you. Jace is so into you it's annoying."

You laugh. "So that's why you think he's boring. I'm surprised you didn't beat his ass then."

"That's too easy," he smirks, "it wouldn't just end with that so I'd rather spend my energy getting your undivided attention. I know how you like to dote more on the injured rather than the victor."

The need to admit that you only do it for him is strong but the urge to roll your eyes is stronger. But he knows what you're thinking. Just like everything. You might be able to read his fists like an expert but he can read your innermost thoughts better than you can imagine.

"Fine, master this move in ten minutes and I'll let you eat me out in the office."

Seokmin has never gotten down on his hands and knees faster and he looks so good doing it, you might have to save that for future ideas in the bedroom later. After he proves himself first, of course.

Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

onlyseokmins: February 2023 ©

Taglist: Taglist: @joshibambi @junhui-recs @pandorashbox @rubyscoups @woozluv @darlingvernon @charcharfairy @httpswonwoosglasses @yeosayang @buffhoshi @horanghae8star @noraehey @misssugarlips @tinkerbell460 @aceofvernons @dejavernon

#ez.creates #svthub #dk smut #lee dokyeom smut #dokyeom smut #lee seokmin smut #seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #smut #svt.smut

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comatosebunny09 · 1 year

Text

respite | r. kyojuro

Warnings: Fingering, Female Anatomy, Bodily Fluids, Mentions of Blood, Language, Light Choking, Praise Kink, Pet Names, Modern AU

I have no excuse for this other than me being ridiculously down bad. But I adore you for reading. ❤️

Music Inspo: The One - Alina Baraz

He’s had a day.

It’s etched into the frown lines on his face as he shrugs out of his coat, sword clunking loudly on the rug. Doesn’t bother stripping himself of his blood-stained waistcoat or slacks. He at least has the decency to take off his boots—you’ll kill him if he tracks anything on the floor.

The house is dimly lit. Quiet. Air stained with the aroma of fresh linen and citrus. There are remnants of whatever savory meal you cooked for dinner lingering in the kitchen. He’ll have at the leftovers later.

He’s in a mood.

Quick and soundless like a jaguar, he maneuvers down the hall. Finds mist unfurling from the bathroom alongside neo-soul and the fragrance of your body wash.

Good.

He loves it when you take such care cleaning his appetizer.

The door clicks shut softly behind him once he eases into the bathroom. He’s enveloped by the warmth of the steam and your mellifluous voice humming in tandem with the music. You’re wrapped snug in a towel, fingers fretting with your damp hair. You haven’t noticed him yet; the mirror fogged to hell.

He almost feels guilty for scaring you half to death.

Almost.

You nearly leap out of your skin when his hands perch on your hips. You spare a glance over your shoulder, eyes glassy and doe-like. When you realize it’s just him, you relax and turn back to the mirror. You coo a welcome home, baby, a smile canting your lips. One that makes his heart lurch and something warm leak into his belly.

Fucking hell.

He lures you back into the hard press of his body. Your breath hitches. You’re frozen in time as the apex of his thighs twitches to life against the cleft of your ass. And then he’s reaching around to undo the knot of your towel while his lips map out the curve of your shoulder. Hot, sodden puffs of air against your flesh, praises and I’ve missed you’s sang into your skin.

You relent to his ministrations, reaching behind to tangle your fingers in his hair. Tugging in that way that makes his dick jump, your head lolling back onto his shoulder. Your towel piles on the floor, soaked and long forgotten.

His big hands go on an unhurried expedition while his mouth is occupied sucking on your throat, eliciting soft mewls from you. He gently weighs your tits in his hardened palms. Traps your puckered nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, rolling and pinching. He relishes how sweetly you whimper, your eyes shut against the lazy wash of pleasure.

You’re undulating against him. Angling your neck a little more to give him full access. And his devilish hands are on the move again, scouring down the dip of your hips to clutch the inner sanctum of your honeysuckle thighs.

They crater under his ironclad grip. He bites his lip, watching you eagerly spread your legs for him. Takes to rubbing the space where thigh meets lip, intentionally grazing the fatty outer shell of your sex. You whine for him to stop teasing you. He counters with a chuckle, dark and raspy.

Who is he to keep his pretty baby waiting?

He placates you, spreading your lips open with thick fingers and obscene, sticky strokes to your clit.

You quickly devolve into a mess. A jumble of words and broken moans, rutting your ass against his painfully straining cock. He dips inside your sweltering pussy for a taste, one finger soon joined by another. How greedily you suck him in. Seems you crave him as much as he’s missed you. The hot suction of you is enough to make his cock weep with precum.

He gazes into the mirror, the fog of it cleared. There’s a blood spatter on his collar. A violet bruise forming under a shallow cut on his cheek. Stubble stippling his chin. He’s quite the sight. But you’re much more enticing.

He steadily picks up speed whilst he bites into your shoulder, his free hand busying itself with kneading your pretty, pretty titties.

The wet squelch of his fingers buried in your pussy fills the bathroom, followed by you singing his name like a hymnal. You’re nice and open. Stretched and spilling on his dexterous digits, the smell of you potent and ripe. He alternates between finger fucking you and tapping your clit. Loves how broken you’ve become.

God, he wants to fuck you senseless.

You’re close if the deep heave of your chest is anything to go by. He encases your neck with a virile hand, squeezing with the right amount of pressure. Licks a wet stripe behind your ear, muttering filth into it. Massages your cunt in purposeful arcs, your knees buckling.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” he rasps, surprised by his own ragged breathing.

You’re coming undone before he has time to process things. Dripping, dripping on his fingers, a scream corked in your throat.

He’s there to catch you when you come crashing down, spinning you round to capture your lips in a succulent kiss. Pinches and slaps your supple ass, entranced with how the fat of it bounces in his hand.

When he’s had his fill sipping from you, he breaks away. Whispers, “bedroom?” against your swollen mouth. To which you nod with drunken lids and a blissed-out expression warping your features.

He scoops you into his arms, tender despite the exhilaration warming his veins. Cradles you to him like the most exalted thing in pursuit of your bedroom.

The fun has only just started.

#rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro smut #rengoku smut #rengoku kyojuro smut #kyojuro rengoku smut #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #kny reader insert #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #cw: female reader #mdni

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campbyler · 1 month

Note

CAUSE ALL THE BOYS IN THEIR EXPENSIVE CARS THEIR RANGE ROVERS AND THEIR JAGUARS NEVER TOOK ME QUITE WHERE YOU DO

AND ALL AT ONCE ⌛ YOU 🫵 ARE THE ONE 1️⃣ I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR 🙇‍♂️ KING 👑 OF MY HEART ❤️ BODY AND SOUL 😵‍💫 OOH WHOA AND ALL AT ONCE ⌛ YOU 🫵 ARE THE ONE 1️⃣ I'LL NEVER LET YOU GO ⛓️ KING 👑 OF MY HEART ❤️ BODY AND SOUL 😵‍💫 OOH WHOA AND ALL AT ONCE ⌛ YOU 🫵 ARE THE ONE 1️⃣ I'VE BEEN WAITING 🙇‍♂️ WAITNG 🙇‍♂️ OOH WHOA OOH WHOA AND ALL AT ONCE ⌛ I'VE BEEN WAITING 🙇‍♂️ WAITNG 🙇‍♂️ BODY AND SOUL 😵‍💫 OOH WHOA AND ALL AT ONCE ⌛

#asks #ch09 #acswy spoilers #OBVIOUSLLYYY could not answer this one just yet bc it was on the 9.2 playlist #but EXACTLYYYY ANON EXACTLYYYY

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 2 months

Text

Get to Know Me tag

Ultimate Addition

Been tagged with multiple versions of this. Will do this all in one.

And maybe this will be the definitive version.

Thanks to: @herrmannhalsteadproduction here, @sleepywriter00 here, @mk-writes-stuff here and here, @dyrewrites here, @infinnative here, @buffythevampirelover here, and @mysticstarlightduck here.

Tagging @illarian-rambling @gottestod-writes @cowboybrunch @blind-the-winds @uninspired-platypuss @little-peril-stories @loopyhoopywrites @its-on-site @aalinaaaaaa @randomlettrrsqqssfxwcvhxnqbwriro @thepeculiarbird + anyone else

(y'all don't have to do all of these - pick one. Honestly you can do all of them but like...only if you really want to)

Version 1

Last Song - Driving the Last Spike (Genesis)

Currently Watching - Star Trek Voyager in my trek marathon, still have a little bit of Phineas and Ferb to rewatch, MythBusters, Whose Line is it Anyway, The Bad Batch as it comes out, and I keep forgetting the last bit of Hamster and Gretel is on D+ rip

Three Ships - uhhh the least controversial I feel will be Robin/Starfire (Teen Titans), Kirk/Spock (Star Trek), and Dakota/Cavendish (Milo Murphy's Law)

Favorite color - T E A L 🩵💚 it slaps. Btw this: 🩵 is not teal but it's the emoji that pops up when I type teal wtf teal is GREENER that's like cyan which also has the same emoji I'm sick of people calling light blue teal

Currently reading - beta reading Whispers by @magic-is-something-we-create and making my way through Purple Hyacinth on Webtoon

Currently consuming - uh just woke up will have my coffee in a bit

Place of birth - Earth

Currently location - pretty sure it's Earth

Last movie - True Lies (first time watching)

Version 2

Are you named after anyone? No my mom was sick of the family name she was given so revolted against peer pressure.

When was the last time you cried? Uhh couple days ago got caught in traffic due to an accident and went a separate way only to find myself on the feeder road with more traffic from another accident so I had to pull into a Jaguar parking lot before I got full a panic attack

Do you have kids? No please dear God. Future students are my kids.

What sport do you/have you played? Soccer when I was like in kindergarten.

Do you sarcasm? See next answer

What's the first thing you notice about someone? That they exist

Eye color? Brown

Scary movie or happy ending? These aren't opposites?? Scary movies have happy endings! So happy endings.

Any talents? Uh, writing, I guess. Media analysis. I can read fast. I'm Gen Z and can write in cursive. I kick ass at the puzzle match mini game on Wii Party.

Where were you born? *Double checks* yeah still Earth

Hobbies? Writing, reading, watching TV, scrolling through Tumblr, media analysis, watching YouTube, daydreaming, listening to music, useless data analysis

Any pets? Two cats

Height? 5'4

Favorite subject? ELAR (reading/writing) that's why I want to teach it

Dream job? See above

Version 3

Currently reading - answered this above

Last song - I'm doing this on a different day (sorry) and now it's Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Queen)

Currently watching - said above

Current fic - uh I'm just reading the stuff I already said

Current hyperfixation - brain recently has been toggling between Phineas and Ferb, Teen Titans (2003), Avatar The Last Airbender, Megamind, and my WIP The Secret Portal so uh pick one

Favorite color - T E A L

Sweet/spicy/savory - I guess savory but yeah depends on mood

Relationship status - happily dating ❤️

Last thing I Googled - Ming-Na Wen (wanted to know her age. She's 60)

Song stuck in my head - currently Somebody To Love (Queen - was listening to the greatest hits)

Favorite food - my dad's food, specifically his Cincinnati chili and his cake

Dream trip - New Zealand or Tokyo

Version 4

(highlight what describes you)

APPEARANCE

Dark hair* // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don't often smile// I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards

*up for debate

ACTIVITIES/INTERESTS

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami* // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during work or school breaks // I can do a handstand

*with instructions and not well

RELATIONSHIPS

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year// I have a crush* // I have a friend I've known for ten years // my parents are together // I have dated my best friend+ // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship^ // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

*does my gf count as a crush? I still act like it lol

+am dating

^i think this is referring to romance but I do have other friends in other states

SEASONS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise* // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colours // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

*I think once could be making that up

Take your bets if I'm an outdoorsy person (nope)

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of Sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower* // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed+ // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs

*quietly

+used to

EDIT: I've decided to add onto this post whenever I get a new get to know me tag, so from here on out this was not in the original post

Version 5

I'm over 5'5 / I wear glasses or contacts (glasses) / I have blonde hair / I often wear sweatshirts (I think some of them count?) / I prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / I have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / I typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting boss face / i play sports (was in soccer in kindergarten haha) / I play an instrument (used to, violin) / i know more than one language (I know some ASL but I've forgotten most of it... ) / I can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / I have never dated anyone / I have a best friend that I have known for over five years (Cado, how has it been seven years almost????) / I am an only child

Version 6

Last song: as of answering this, technically I watched Psych so the theme song!

Favorite color: you should know this at this point in the post

Currently watching: Psych like I said, also Star Trek Voyager and a few on the side still (see above)

Sweet/spicy/savory: see Version 3

Current obsession: ...Psych but also my WIPs :)

Last thing I googled: thesaurus because I was doing the @sipofsnips and didn't have the word this morning

Favorite season: they all suck but I'll go with fall

Skill I'd like to learn: I want to draw good

Best advice: "thinking about it counts as working on it" because it's changed my outlook on how much I get done in a day, "progress is progress" for similar reasons but more general, and generally that if you burn yourself out trying to do everything nothing gets done

Woo! This was a LOT holy shit. Hope you know more about me!

Version 7

A scent you love: ooh cookies baking smells wonderful

Something you're looking forward to this week: finals finished yesterday which means more free time for me! I get to catch up on reading and writing!!

Currently reading: beta for Whispers by @magic-is-something-we-create WHICH I CAN FINALLY GET BACK TO WOOOO

Currently playing: not a video game person sorry - but I've been occasionally picking at mobile games like Animal Restaurant

Most recent movie: uh... When did I last watch a movie?? I think it was True Lies?? First time watching. Wasn't expecting it to be as chaotic as it was.

Current show: Star Trek Voyager and Psych! Partially rewatch/first time watching every episode and total rewatch respectively! I've not seen either since middle school so this is super exciting

Favorite season: autumn because it's starting to get cooler and pollen isn't everywhere

Recently learned: took a life in the universe class this semester and learned a lot about life in the universe (obviously) and while I have mixed feelings about the class MAN the content was fascinating

Water intake: currently drinking water like always :) । have to pee

#not writing #get to know me #tag game

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cozyaliensuperstar7 · 5 months

Text

Beautiful Black Women 👑

essence:

Halle Bailey, how lucky are we to be part of your world! There have been waves of unsolicited opinions about you and it’s time to silence the storm! The comments aren’t just nosey - they show entitlement to Black women’s bodies and the last time we checked, no one owes us an explanation for anything. To any and everyone who thinks otherwise, swim along but more importantly - stay out of Black women's business! 🫶🏾 #ESSENCE 📸: ESSENCE Archives Getty

essence:

They say laughter is the best medicine and if that’s the truth, Regina Hall is our resident doctor. But it’s more than just the jokes for us. It’s the kind soul that shines through. Thank you for putting a smile on our face and showing that pretty girls can be funny too!

teyanataylor:

Father God, Let me tell you something about your FAVOR, your favor can’t be stopped! Lord, You told me in John 8:12 that, you are the light of the world & if I followed you I wouldn’t have to walk in darkness, because you would have the light that leads to life! Amen. You promised to protect me from the evil In the face of adversity, & you rescued me. So I humbly submit to you with a thankful heart. Thank you for reminding me that your Love & blessings don’t come with conditions and as the flames dance upon 33 candles, I find myself immersed in the profound reflections of a journey shaped by growth and artistic evolution. Embracing the present, I stand at the threshold of the unknown, ready to inscribe new chapters in the book of life. Here's to the intricate dance of time and the wisdom it unfolds. In Jesus name, Amen🌹🎂🌹 THANK YOU to all my family & friends that came out to celebrate me on such a special day for me. I feel so full ❤️🌹❤️ #33 12.10.90 🌹📸: @insurgovisuals @destinyfulfild @kvnhrtlss @oneshotmia I will be sending out all my special THANK YOU’S to everyone involved with making this beautiful night unforgettable in part 2.🌹

issarae:

🔥🏡 @hauteliving 🔥🏡 By @laurainwonderland Photography @kanyaiwana Styling @therealwourivice Fashion Director @adriennefaurote Videographer @jeanlondondia Hair @felicialeatherwood Makeup @joannasimkin Jewelry & Watches By @bulgari

victoriamonet:

I had the honor of having such a beautiful conversation with two of the most legendary producers of our lifetime at the @grammymuseum about all things JAGUAR II !! I am in awe and so grateful for the opportunity to share words and space with you both @flytetymejam and @dmile85 thank you so much for this incredibly special moment!🤎🥹\n\nPLUS my mommy surprised me and came to the event @themommymonet you’re the best!!!🙌🏾 Styled by @kollincarter in @area @jimmychoo and @alexisbittar jewelry Glam: @mua.alexander Hair: @theassassin 📸: @mr_dadams @rachelle_jl @danameyerson @1sweetlotus thank you so much for all of your work behind the scenes on this!!!🙌🏾 it all truly takes a team and I got the best one ✨✨✨

#halle bailey #regina hall #teyana taylor #issa rae #victora monét #beautiful black women

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formulatrash · 10 months

Note

Hi Hazel it’s a sad day for a Mitch fan :( Just wonder if you have any interesting anecdotes about him / interactions with him that you would like to share with a sad person? Thank you very much ❤️

it is :(((((

hmmmmm I'm trying to think of ones I haven't talked about before. Mitch is really nice, bless him, he's always incredibly generous in interviews and he's very funny. I'm sure I've posted the one where he was having his ice cream eaten by JEV before but it is kind of all-time classic Formula E interview

Me: Sorry to interrupt your ice cream. I think this is going to be one of those questions, but explanation for the question is probably longer than the answer-

Mitch: Yeah.

[audible ice-cream licking noises as JEV folds in half to eat the ice cream Mitch is holding at his waist]

Me: He was just coughing.

Mitch: Oh we kiss all the time.

Me: Oh, well, that's fine. So I'm writing an article about Théo Pourchaire, he had a stall on the grid in Saudi that was quite like yours was last year and had another car go into the back of him and he said it sort of haunts him at starts and he kind of can't stop thinking about it when he's on the grid. I didn't want to ask you about this on Thursday cus it felt like the kind of thing that-

Mitch: [referring to ice cream] No, it's really good

Me: Didn't want to curse your weekend or whatever. But does it bother you or is it just something that you can put away as soon as the weekend was over?

Mitch: I mean, it takes takes a while to get over it, but I think because of the magnitude of the results. If it was the first race maybe it'd be different. ButI think when you have those moments, when you - I mean, electric cars can't really stall but when you don't go. I think that's always in the back of your mind that. You know, I guess it's like it's really not nice feeling when you don't go and guys fly past you and obviously it hurt. Hey, now you're being greedy.

JEV: Keep talking

Mitch: Now you're being greedy.

JEV: I'm helping

Sam: Have you smelt that? It smells really good.

JEV: Well, that's how it tastes.

Mitch: What were we talking about?

Me: The stalling thing - well, not stalling.

Mitch: Give that a nibble. You're like a dog.

JEV: Are they in the Jaguar garage?

Me: I think they're all in the dry ice boxes

Mitch: I think after you have one stall, it's always in the back of my mind that you could be hit. Fortunately I walked away from it, Edo was actually a little more injured than me don't. But yeah, I don't wish that on anyone, because it's not a nice feeling.

#fe asks #mitch evans #jean eric vergne

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cheesybadgers · 4 months

Text

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 22)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,985

Summary: As Horacio's and Javier's stay in Manizales comes to an end, Elena has some words of wisdom and an unexpected offer for their future.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, religious themes, brief non-explicit sexual references, smoking, swearing.

Notes: As promised, here's the second half of their Manizales adventures. I'm still wrestling with editing chapter 23 at the moment, plus life has been kind of busy/stressful lately, so not sure when it will be ready to post. But the finish line is definitely within touching distance now ❤️

Thank you once again to anyone still reading/commenting/making moodboards and playlists or drawing, I'm blown away when my fic inspires others to create. I'll be making a proper masterlist once the fic is finished, where I'll link to everything people have made or have suggested playlist songs etc., plus there'll be my own playlist and moodboards.

Feel free to drop me a comment, whether it's about the new chapter or an older one, I'm always happy to chat 😊

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 22: Past, Present, Future

The early morning mist transformed into drizzle in the time it took Horacio to run around the farm boundaries, the spray cooling his clammy skin as he worked up a sweat. He left Javier to wake and shower at his own leisurely pace, a routine they had settled into since arriving here. Although two mornings ago, both Javier and Alejandra were suspiciously worse-for-wear, and Horacio didn’t see much of either of them until after lunch.

Today, they planned to join one of Fabián’s tours, which included a coffee-tasting session. So, even if the exercise hadn’t woken Horacio up, the caffeine certainly would.

The rain eased off once back at the finca, sunrays now straining to break through the low clouds as Horacio showered and dressed, somehow still beating Javier.

Tempting aromas from the kitchen let Horacio know his Mamá was already up and about after making the children breakfast before Alejandra dropped them off at school.

As he sat down at the kitchen table and poured himself a glass of orange juice – his usual coffee would wait for later – both cats, Caturra and Bourbon, took turns rubbing themselves against his legs.

“You and Alejandra loved that stray cat when you were young,” said Elena, who had appeared from the larder with her arms full of eggs, chorizo and arepas. “What was her name?”

“Estrella.”

“She was the next best thing to a jaguar, and you were desperate to see one back then.”

“I remember. Never did, though.”

“Not many get the privilege these days.”

“Can’t say I blame them for keeping out of sight.”

Horacio remembered his Abuela Margarita telling him stories of how the jaguar, snake and condor were the original creators of the world and how the jaguar was tricked by man into parting with its power of fire. The feline creature was forced to survive on its cunning and strength alone, prowling around the mountains and jungles of Colombia, waiting patiently to exact revenge.

For too long, Horacio had stalked, clawed and mauled his prey all over Medellín, seeking vengeance on those who betrayed his country and its people. He was an apex predator maintaining balance and order in the food chain, not out of choice but necessity. A reluctant warrior backed into a corner until a palpable sense of duty kicked in when the threat was too real to ignore.

But whatever the unseen truth was, jaguars gained a reputation as ferocious killers, feared by humans until they became the hunted rather than the hunter, gunned down and chased into hiding and a life of solitude. An act of cowardice by the jaguar on the face of it, but these days, Horacio liked to think of it as an evolutionary advantage, the opposite side of the fight-or-flight coin.

“It’s understandable, yes. But a life in the shadows has its drawbacks.”

“True. But there can be a certain kind of freedom in the dark. Especially when those with flares want you dead.”

“Not everyone offering light wants that, Mijo.”

Horacio, who had focused on the floor for most of the conversation, finally looked up, hazel eyes mirrored back at him with extra shades of wisdom. His dour expression softened, and his shoulders sagged in concession. “I know.”

“Whilst I’ve got you here…” Elena trailed off, disappearing upstairs before returning with a small wooden trinket box.

She sat down at the table and extracted a gold chain from the box. “He’d want you to have it.”

Horacio stared at the pendants that swung back and forth like a pendulum clock as Elena held them out towards him. His cheeks hollowed, and his lips formed a sharp pout from how tightly he held his jaw in place. “Mamá, I can’t. Not after everything. Not after I ran away.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After I was injured, I went into hiding...in Laredo, Texas. And I quit.” He grasped his hands together and bowed his head as though in prayer, but he wasn’t sure even God could help him now he had confessed his sins. “I’m sorry I kept it from you. And I know you’re probably wondering why I went –”

“Javier.”

Horacio froze, undecided if he was caught off guard by the mention of Javier’s name or how he could hear his Mamá’s smile as she said it, as though it was the most glaringly obvious response anyone could ever have given.

“It’s okay, Mijo. You don’t have to explain yourself. He told me about the ranch whilst you and Alejandra cleaned up on your first night here.”

“That’s how you knew?”

“Well, not only that. I might be older these days, but I’m not blind.”

Elena chuckled, but Horacio could tell it wasn’t at his expense. So, he allowed his jaw some leeway, unclenching his teeth and facial muscles, almost appreciating the ache left behind. A chain reaction surged through his body, tension unknowingly carried for decades ebbing away now the secret he once believed would follow him to his grave was not only out but wasn’t being held against him.

And so he threw caution to the wind and let the floodgates open. He told his Mamá about Madrid and working on the ranch, about their plans for the future, about life in Laredo and even the crucifix, just in case she had noticed its absence and assumed the worst.

Talk of the crucifix prompted Elena to take one of Horacio’s hands in hers, where she deposited her gift of gold before he could refuse. “Take it. Please.” Her hand formed a dome over Horacio’s, fingers gently squeezing.

Once Elena withdrew, Horacio unfurled his palm and stared down at his very own El Dorado. “After my injury, I’d dream about this sometimes. And the stories you and Abuelita Mirabel told us about Bochica. I wish it’d been as easy as striking a staff to stop Escobar.”

“Bochica might have saved his people from drowning, but he couldn’t save them from the conquistadors and their gold-digging.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know you don’t approve of Madrid, Mamá. And I know I’m no Bolívar, but –”

“Mijo, what are you talking about? I know you had your reasons for Madrid – even the second time. That’s not what I meant. And no one’s asking you to be Bolívar.”

A salient monument dedicated to Simón Bolívar stood in the centre of Manizales. The statue was half-man, half-condor, each entity synonymous with the other as national symbols of freedom and sovereignty. It still stung for Horacio to be reminded he had worn the Colombian coat of arms on his uniform sleeve every day, the proud condor flying above the motto Libertad y Orden (Freedom and Order) with Dios y Patria (God and Country) sworn beneath. But unlike Bolívar and Bochica, Horacio was unable to liberate his people.

Instead, he had sought refuge in two countries that had interfered the most with Colombia's autonomy. He had made a home on the land of the former Empire and used the gringos to his advantage when it suited him, never mind allowing one of them into his heart and bed.

Elena pressed her hand tenderly to Horacio’s cheek, the conflict in his mind apparently written all over his face. It was an action he had been on the receiving end of throughout childhood, but one that still had the power to soothe him as though no time had passed since.

“You’re also forgetting Chibchacum’s role in Bochica’s story,” she continued. “He was the one punished to carry the world on his back for creating the flood in the first place. Bochica did the best he could in terrible circumstances, and that’s all anyone could ask for.”

Memories re-surfaced of Abuelita Mirabel sitting between Horacio and Alejandra on the sofa, a blanket spread across the three of them, where she told of how every time there was an earthquake in Colombia, it was the weight of the world shifting on Chibchacum’s back. Little did Horacio know that would become a feeling he was all too familiar with when he was older.

But his Mamá was right; he wasn’t Chibchacum or Bochica. And he certainly wasn't Bolívar. But neither was his Papá.

So, he took a deep breath and raised the chain to unclip the fastening. From there, he attached it behind his neck, letting the deity and the angel finally rest against his skin.

“Beautiful,” Elena said, her eyes suddenly glossy and the corner of her lips twitching.

“Thank you.” Horacio held his Mamá’s gaze until it was necessary to look away and clear his throat. “What else is in there, anyway?” He swiftly motioned towards the box.

Elena passed it over to Horacio so he could look for himself. Nestled inside were his Papá’s wedding ring and lapel pins, his Abuelo Ignacio’s St. Michael’s cross, rosary beads, an old pack of Deportivo Independiente Medellín trading cards, a postcard of an orange grove with handwriting Horacio recognised as his Mamá’s on the back, and a black and white photograph of a young boy draped in a police jacket that was far too big for him. Behind him stood his father in the rest of the uniform the jacket belonged to.

“Is that Papá and Abuelo Ignacio?”

Elena laughed. “Of course!” She got up again without explanation, re-appearing with a photo album this time.

She flicked through it until she found what she was looking for. “Where do you think we got the idea for this from?”

She was pointing at an almost identical picture. The two boys in the photos had the same thick dark hair and charcoal eyes, a resemblance that would carry through into adulthood – although Horacio built up more muscle than his father ever did.

Horacio smiled. “I remember that being taken. It was my first day at school.”

“It was his idea before you set off for school, and he set off for work. He made sure I was ready with the camera when you came downstairs in your uniform.”

“I never knew it was his idea.” The dejection was evident in Horacio’s voice, even if he tried to hide it.

“He might not have said it much, but he was so proud of you, you know. And so am I.”

Horacio swallowed hard with his eyes shut, anything to hold himself together. “I used to take this when you weren’t looking,” he managed to get out, gesturing towards the photo album. “Same with some of the other old albums we had. Well, I kept a couple of them, actually.” He chuckled at the thought of the albums currently residing on a shelf in Madrid. “I always went back to the photos and his uniform for some reason.”

“You didn’t have to hide it from me.”

“Neither did you with us.”

“I know. But you were both so young. You didn’t need that burden on top of everything else.”

“You could never be a burden, Mamá.”

“You and Alejandra were busy forging your careers. I had to stay strong at work, helping people worse off than me. So, I saved most of it for my prayers and Día de Todos los Santos.”

Horacio remembered attending Mass and his Papá’s grave every Día de Todos los Santos. But it was different to Día de Muertos. They weren’t welcoming his Papá home; they were praying for those in purgatory and heaven. And as much as he liked to think his Papá was a saint, there was always a part of him terrified that if he didn’t pray hard enough, his Papá would never be cleansed of his sins.

“I was in Laredo for Día de Muertos. Javier’s father – Chucho – had a box like this for Javier’s mother – Mariana. He used it to make an ofrenda for her.”

Another piece of the puzzle seemed to click into place for Elena in a look that combined realisation with sympathy. Another loss, another parallel, another explanation.

“A beautiful tradition,” she concluded.

“Yeah, it is. One that remembers the people we’ve lost as we knew them and welcomes them back home.”

“A bit like this, you mean?”

“Something like that.”

“Whilst we’re here…there’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Go on.”

“Money from the house sale in Medellín has been sitting in a bank account since I moved here, along with some left over from your Papá. The plan was to split it between you and Alejandra when I’m gone, but…why wait?”

“What? But Mamá, that’s your money.”

“Technically, half of it is your Papá’s. But he’s not here. And who better to put that money to good use than his children?”

“Even though I wouldn’t have children of my own to return the favour one day?”

It was a question that had lingered on the tip of Horacio’s tongue since arriving here. A question he had tried to ignore for a long time before that, if he was honest. He learned of Juliana’s first pregnancy from his Mamá, who had heard the news from a friend of a friend. That was all she said on the matter, but Horacio was never sure whether he imagined the traces of disappointment in her voice that it wasn’t his child.

“Horacio, do you really think that matters to me?”

There was no disappointment in Elena’s tone now, just incredulous confusion that made Horacio regret his words.

“Even if I wasn’t surrounded by my amorcitos every single day, I would want you and Alejandra to make your own choices. Live your own lives. If that doesn’t involve children for you, then so be it.”

Horacio nodded, his lungs expelling a freeing breath he hadn't been aware was trapped in the depths of his rib cage. “Have you spoken to Alejandra about the money?”

“Not yet. But I know the farm needs repairs, and they’ve always got plans for this place. Same as the ranch.”

“I don’t own the ranch, though, Mamá.”

“No. But from everything you’ve told me about Chucho, he obviously trusts you with his business. And I don’t imagine you and Javier will want to live in a guesthouse for the rest of your lives. Visas don’t come cheap, either.”

Of course, she was right on all three counts. Horacio had a lot of on-the-job training ahead of him. He would effectively be starting from scratch again. But Chucho had welcomed him with open arms into his home and livelihood. It wasn’t implausible that if Horacio had ideas for the ranch, Chucho would take them on board.

They hadn't discussed living arrangements yet, but Horacio was confident neither he nor Javier had envisaged the guesthouse as a permanent solution. And then there was the small matter of Horacio’s visa. The paperwork upon which their future in Laredo hinged. He tried not to think about all the different ways it could go wrong or what they would do if it did. But that was a problem for another day. A problem that would no doubt be made easier with extra money in tow.

So, he ignored the whispering ghosts of his ancestors because his Mamá was right; he wasn’t doing this for his Papá. And he certainly wasn’t doing it for the people of Colombia, past or present.

“Okay,” he said in the end. “But only if Alejandra agrees to it, too.”

The sound of a throat being cleared caught them off guard and drew a temporary line under the conversation.

“Morning,” Javier greeted as he hovered by the kitchen door. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” Of course, he knew he was and an apology with his eyes was all he could offer Horacio for the time being.

“Good morning, Javier. And on the contrary! How do you feel about calentado?”

Whatever Javier had been expecting Elena’s response to be, for some reason, it wasn’t that. He looked towards Horacio for the slightest hint about what he had walked in on.

Horacio wanted to explain everything – and later he would – but for now, he ushered Javier to sit down.

“Er, sounds perfect, thanks,” Javier told Elena as his foot found Horacio’s under the table.

And as the three of them chatted and helped prepare breakfast, Horacio had to admit Javier was right.

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

The coffee tour took up the rest of the morning. It was no wonder Horacio had always been particular on the subject when he knew which were the best beans and blends to be found in Colombia. He still had occasional pangs for his former life, but the weak instant shit the gringos brought with them to Carlos Holguín wasn’t one of them.

Naturally, the heavens opened before the end of the tour – bad for the tourists but good for the soil – and by the time they had returned to the finca, another shower was required.

They showered together, the finca empty for a change. Plus, they had nothing to hide anymore – at least not with the people that mattered the most. That hadn’t quite sunk in for Horacio even after he told Javier everything. Even when his last defences buckled, and he broke down in Javier's arms, letting himself be held. Even when he was kissing Javier, slow and deep, in his family’s bathroom, their breaths heavy and desperate in such a confined space.

One thing could easily have led to another as Horacio pinned Javier against the cold tiles, bare skin seeking out bare skin, emotions running high. There was no doubt they wanted it to, and in almost any other circumstance, it would have.

“Not here,” Horacio whispered, his voice shaking and his forehead falling against Javier’s as he was hit by a sudden clarity of thought. “I’m sorry.”

Javier hushed lightly, cradling Horacio against his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.” He kissed across damp hair, running his fingers through thick strands that always became curlier when wet. “We don’t have to do anything.”

Light strokes soon morphed into lathered hands as Javier washed and rinsed Horacio’s hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp and soothing away stubborn remnants of tension.

Although a niggling knot remained, an unspoken question and an uninitiated conversation. “When I was talking with my mother earlier…” Horacio began, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to let the hot jets cascade down his neck and shoulders.

Javier hummed in encouragement, his lips following the water droplets, enveloping Horacio in a blanket of warmth from all angles.

“She reassured me she wouldn’t be disappointed if I never had children.” Horacio let his words hang in the white noise of the shower, giving Javier time to adjust to the change of subject.

“Did you think she would be?”

“It crossed my mind. So much has been passed down through the Carrillo side of my family. From my Abuelo to my Papá. From my Papá to me.”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but four of your nieces and nephews are around here somewhere.”

Horacio let out a light huff. “Like I could forget. But…they’re Alejandra’s, not mine.”

“I know. But I think you’re forgetting the real question here. Would you be disappointed?”

“Back when I was younger, when I was with Juliana, I might’ve said yes. More out of expectation than anything else. But with you…I think we ripped up and threw away the rule book a long time ago.”

“Thank fuck for that. We’ve never been very good at following rules anyway.”

It didn't take long for them both to laugh at such a flagrant understatement.

“So, you do feel the same then?” Horacio asked in earnest.

“I was less than an hour away from getting my very own white fucking picket fence. If I’d wanted it, I could’ve had it. But that wasn’t my idea of the American Dream.”

Horacio turned in Javier’s arms, and the last seed of doubt was finally plucked from his mind. His lips captured Javier’s again, a statement of intent for their future. A future they no longer had to hide from their families.

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

Javier seated himself in the large wooden gazebo at the end of the garden, which doubled as a viewing platform over the steep valley below. For once, sunlight had won the battle against the mist, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. It made it possible to see for miles, giving the illusion of being high amongst the surrounding trees alongside the raucous birdlife living in their branches.

It was their penultimate morning in Manizales, upon which Javier had changed a habit of a lifetime by getting up with Horacio. They had penned in some sightseeing of the city later. But for now, Horacio had gone for his usual run, and Javier started the day with possibly the best coffee he had ever drunk.

“May I join you?”

Javier looked up from his cup and cleared his throat. “Oh, er, of course.”

As Elena sat down, the sun glinted off the silver jewellery bonded to Javier’s chest, making them squint at its reflection. He instinctively brought a hand to his neck in a fumbled effort to shove the crucifix beneath the open collar of his shirt.

“You don’t need to do that, you know.”

Fuck. He'd been busted.

However, Elena's voice contained no traces of judgment, and it quickly put Javier at ease. He lowered his hand to his knee, giving a brief bob of the head before taking another sip of coffee.

“I still wear these.” Elena raised her left hand, showing off a sparkling diamond ring above a plain gold band. “The amount of awkward questions about the whereabouts of my husband these have caused over the years. Yet I still can’t bring myself to take them off. Although…”

With her right hand, she took hold of the top ring and wiggled it off her finger, then did the same with the second ring, with more force required this time.

Javier wasn’t sure what was happening until the dappled morning light fell on the inside of the ring he held up to his face.

Suerte que encontré a mi media naranja

(Lucky that I found my soulmate)

“It’s beautiful.”

“Eduardo wasn’t a man of many words, but he had his moments.” Elena’s smile took on a wistful appearance as Javier passed the ring back.

“My Pops is the same with his wedding ring. He insists on wearing it every day, which isn’t really compatible with the day job.”

“I can imagine. I hear it became Horacio’s day job, too?”

“Yeah,” Javier said with an involuntary grin. “I know it might be hard to believe, and I know it’s not what he expected, but it suits him.” Literally as well figuratively, he managed to stop himself from blurting out.

“I can’t remember him ever saying he wanted to be anything other than a police officer. My parents ran a textile business, and Eduardo’s mother was a nurse. But Horacio followed his father, who followed his father like it was their birthright. I always worried about Eduardo, especially if he was running late or was called to an emergency. Then it was the same with Horacio, too. So much blood spilt on our doorsteps, on our streets, in our churches.”

Elena promptly picked up her cup, the balm of hot fruit tea required before she could continue.

“Whenever the phone rang – or I heard a knock at the door – I prepared for the worst. It happened to so many friends and neighbours. So why not my husband or son? Of course, it was Eduardo’s heart in the end. But once Search Bloc made Horacio a walking target, it was only a matter of time. I’d spent years expecting it, but what I hadn’t accounted for in all of my fretting, pacing, and prayers…was you.”

“Me?”

“He told me what you did. How much trouble you and your partner got in for it. How you got injured yourself. How…you saved my son and his men.”

“We couldn’t save them all,” was Javier’s sole response to the lashings of praise he still wasn’t convinced he truly deserved in light of how the ambush came about in the first place.

“You saved more than your superiors were willing to, by the sounds of it.”

Javier scoffed. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

“Good. And as for the ranch…he’s always liked to keep busy. Just like his father, he could never sit still and relax for long. I can see it. I bet he looks the part.”

“He does, actually.” That was allowed, Javier told himself.

“I thought something had changed after his injury, even if he wouldn’t tell us much. I hoped he’d seen sense, but I knew he was prepared to die for that mission of his – that obsession. I’d almost accepted it, to be honest, especially without Eduardo around to stop him. So, when he told me he’d quit, you were the only reason that made sense.”

“Ever since my Mamá passed, I tried to change things – or control them, at least. Anything to not feel that…helpless again. But it didn’t work like that. Walking away was the only choice left.”

“But it was a choice you both made. That can’t have been easy. I may not have known you very long, but it’s already clear to me you’re good for each other.”

“Even though I’m a gringo?”

“We all have our flaws.” Not only did Elena catch the humour in Javier’s eyes, but she matched and surpassed it with her own. “But to answer your question properly…I would say the complicated histories of our homelands have more in common than meets the eye.”

Javier hummed as he had flashbacks to high school of learning about Laredo starting life as a Spanish colonial settlement before a bloody tug-of-war between Mexico and America – and independence from both – had broken out. There was no denying he had benefited from certain privileges of owning an American passport, and he’d always accepted the gringo label without much pushback. But deep down, he knew it was only half the story.

“You’ve shown each other new paths,” Elena continued. “Safer and happier ones. And that’s what counts.”

“Not quite sure what my new path is yet, to be honest. I’ve spent so long running away from Laredo. I’ve forgotten what it means to live there.”

“It took me a long time to accept my place was here now rather than Medellín. Whenever there was a bombing, or a shooting, or a kidnapping, I had to stop myself from getting on a plane. But Horacio worried I’d be a target because of him. He didn’t want me there. And what could I have done anyway?” Elena let out a self-deprecating huff at the mere thought.

“You wanted to protect your son.”

“Yes. But it wasn’t just that. Medellín was my home and my work. And many of Eduardo’s friends and colleagues were killed. Their wives were sisters to me after his death. But I couldn’t return the favour from down here. Not in the same way, at least. I sent cards, flowers, food parcels, even money sometimes. But it never felt enough.”

“It never does.”

“No. It doesn’t. But I did what I could. And being there for Alejandra and the kids made me feel useful. I got involved with the church again. Worked for a small charity. Even though we’ve been protected from the violence here, the repercussions of it spread far and wide. So many displaced families in need. At least I was making a difference somewhere.”

“I thought I was making a difference. And maybe sometimes I was. But I don’t think it was ever really my fight.”

“Perhaps not. But maybe it helped lead you to the right one.”

“Maybe.”

Javier’s mind drifted back to the family history his Pops told him over the phone in Madrid, not just about his Mamá but his grandparents too. Not to mention all his Pops had done for the local community over the years. He thought of the stories Señora Romero had shared and the kindness she had shown him and Horacio. They had all made a difference in their own ways. And they had done it without leaving their cities, let alone their countries.

As Elena excused herself to ensure Mateo and Sofía weren’t starting another civil war in the kitchen, Javier nursed his coffee cup and surveyed the meandering scenery below. For the first time since he told Stechner to go fuck himself, he could see the outline of a path emerging in front of him. He wasn’t exactly sure where it was leading yet, but at least it was something. Something closer to home.

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

Their last day in Manizales came faster than Horacio had expected, presumably a side effect of waiting for the other shoe to drop any minute. Miraculously, it never did.

“Knock knock.”

Horacio looked up from the bed where he was wrestling with the zip of his suitcase – and currently losing. “Morning.” Another tug, but it wouldn’t shift. “You just gonna watch me?”

“Because you’re usually so good at accepting help.” With a dry smile and shake of the head, Alejandra came to the rescue with less heavy-handedness than her brother, unjamming the zip in seconds.

“I’m better than I was.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“And thank you, by the way.” Horacio stood up, lifting the case from the bed and bringing himself face-to-face with his sister. “For everything.”

Alejandra nodded, maintaining eye contact with Horacio long enough to be distracted by the sunlight dancing across the gold chain around his neck. “It suits you.”

“Thanks. Better than it collecting dust in a box.”

“I don’t just mean the necklace.”

The subtle glow of Horacio's pupils mirrored Alejandra's before he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Take care of yourself, okay?” He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head.

“You too. And don’t leave it so long next time.”

“We won’t. I promise.”

“If it helps, I can sweeten the deal with a stay at one of the hot springs around here. They’re always giving me freebies for supplying their coffee. One of them has private thermal pools and everything.”

“You don’t have to bribe me to visit.” However, the thought of it being him, Javier, and a jacuzzi was enough for him to re-think his position on taking bribes. “Plus, I wanna see what you do with the place.”

“So you can take inspiration?”

Horacio rolled his eyes. “You wish. If you think you can handle the Texan climate, you know where we’ll be.”

“Don’t worry, I can and I will.”

“We about ready?” Javier appeared in the doorway with the rest of their luggage, pausing at the threshold. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Again.

“It’s okay; your boyfriend was just inviting us all to the ranch.”

It had only been an innocuous comment, but Alejandra managed to stop both men in their tracks with one word, a bashful look passing between them at the novelty of it.

“Oh, er, that’s great. The more the merrier.” Javier recovered just in time, although the flush in his cheeks showed no sign of abating. “My Pops always makes enough food for the population of Texas, so you’d be more than welcome.”

“Likewise here, Javier. As long as you bring more aguardiente next time.” She winked and drew him in for a hug.

“I think that can be arranged.” Javier broke away first so he could look at Alejandra properly. “And thank you…for everything this week.”

Alejandra gave a bob of the head once more, her smile widening as she glanced from Javier to Horacio, the depth of their gratitude beyond words but written all over their faces. “It’s what big sisters are for.”

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

After eating enough breakfast to last them for most of their journey to Medellín – the rest supplemented by Elena’s homemade empanadas and cocadas – they were stood back on the front porch again.

There was a chorus of goodbyes this time, ones that didn’t have the foreboding air of finality about them as they had done in the past.

Horacio allowed his Mamá to clutch him with all her strength, the scent of her perfume transporting him straight back to childhood.

“You take care of each other, you hear? And keep me updated on your visa. You know where I am if you need anything.”

“Don’t worry, Mamá. I will.”

“Y no olvide su español.” (And don’t forget your Spanish)

“No lo haré, Mamá.” (I won’t, Mamá) Horacio barely managed to suppress a tone of amused exasperation, given that he had been surrounded by almost as many Spanish voices in Laredo as in Colombia.

“Javier, you heard all of that. So, don’t let him forget.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Javier received the same treatment as Horacio with a bracing hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, Mijo. And don’t fret about finding that path. Just remember to follow your heart.”

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

The light was fading fast, leaving behind a watercolour blend of ambers, yellows and reds that blazed against a backdrop of purple haze and the ethereal silhouette of ancient mountains. The glimmer of city life below felt distant, as though they had left this world altogether and now lived above the clouds.

Which was fine by them as they caught their breath; Horacio draped over Javier’s lap in the passenger’s seat, the culmination of their release glistening across their stomachs.

“Just like old times,” Horacio panted as trails of kisses became interspersed with heady laughter.

“Well, not exactly.” Javier’s thumb and forefinger delicately held the silver and gold pendants at their chests before untangling the chains that had become knotted during their tryst.

“No.” Horacio brought his forehead to meet Javier’s, an instant tonic to the painful twinge gripping their hearts as memories of their last visit to this spot resurfaced. “I told you we’d make up for lost time this past week, though.”

“Yeah, I figured you meant in the hotel. Or even back in Madrid. Not the minute you parked up in Medellín.”

“Like you were complaining.”

“Fuck, no, I wasn’t. Less likely to be overheard up here than in the hotel anyway.”

Once Horacio had regained enough feeling in his limbs to dismount and sit back in the driver’s seat, Javier reached for the glove box. He took out their emergency stash of cigarettes and lit up.

Horacio attempted to clean himself up as best he could and did the same for Javier. “So, this is why you brought those with us.” He nodded towards the cigarettes.

“Obviously.” Javier took a long drag and exhaled with a deep sigh, his body latching on quickly to the nicotine, his mind still blitzed.

They passed their shared smoke back and forth in comfortable silence, basking in their afterglows and the aftermath of the last few days.

“You still like it up here then?” Horacio asked after stubbing out the butt in the ashtray between them.

“Yeah, I do. Don’t think I’ve ever seen it looking so beautiful.”

“Me neither. Funny how the same view can look completely different in a new light.”

Javier hummed in agreement, their gaze now fixed on each other rather than the windshield, the irony not lost that they were back in the same spot where it could easily all have ended.

"I can think of a way to make it even better, though.”

“Go on.”

In a flurry of movement, Javier zipped up his jeans, pulled on his shirt and got out of the car. He rustled around in the trunk until he retrieved a couple of spare towels they had packed for emergencies, along with their jackets. It wasn’t quite the thick blanket from the ranch, but at least it was a mild night.

They sprawled out on the grass behind the car, lying atop the towels and wrapped in their jackets. Javier propped his head on a folded sweater with Horacio resting against his chest at an angle that allowed them both to take in the cityscape below.

“How about we just stay here forever?” Javier rasped between slow, sensual kisses.

Horacio moaned against Javier’s lips as he went back for more. “Don’t tempt me. At least we didn’t book an early flight tomorrow.”

“Good point.” Another string of kisses, each more addictive than the last.

“Although,” Horacio began once they had calmed down, his fingers tracing patterns across Javier’s torso, "we’ve got a lot to sort out once we’re back in Madrid.”

“I know. But at least we ripped off the band-aid.” One of Javier’s hands found Horacio’s and slotted their fingers together.

“I spent so much energy worrying about this trip; I was almost expecting something bad to happen.”

Javier raised their linked hands to his mouth and brushed his lips over Horacio’s knuckles. “But it didn’t.”

“No. In fact…I think I know what I want to do with the money.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If you and your father agree to it, that is. And I can find a good lawyer.”

Javier lifted his head slightly and turned in Horacio's direction, urging him to continue.

“I was thinking….what if we bought the corn farm? The three of us, I mean.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah. I think I am.” Horacio couldn’t help but laugh now he’d said it out loud. “Like I said, I’d need to check everything with a lawyer about my visa first. But there is an option for investors. And you still have some of your money from the ranch, right?”

“Yeah, I do. And obviously, you can count me in. But…shit, Horacio. Are you sure? I mean, it’s your inheritance.”

“It's nothing Alejandra isn't doing with her share. And well, if your father bought it outright, an empty cottage would go to waste on our doorstep. Last I looked, it needed a bit of maintenance, but it wasn’t in bad shape.”

Now, it was Javier’s turn to laugh. “Got it all figured out, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“It’s funny, ‘cos, er...I’ve been thinking, too. About something your Mamá said.”

“About what?”

“About looking closer to home for a new path. And I think I might have found it.”

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

They only meant to stay until they got too cold, but their shared body heat let them doze until sunrise. The watercolour skyline re-emerged from behind the mountain tops, gradually bathing Medellín in a heavenly half-light, stirring them awake as it reached their hideaway.

The plan was to freshen up and have breakfast at the hotel before dropping off the hire car and heading to the airport after lunch. But there was something Horacio needed to do whilst the city wasn’t fully awake, whilst the low sun felt like a gift from God Himself.

As they pulled up a stone’s throw away from Horacio’s old family church – a few blocks down from his childhood home and former apartment that Trujillo had cleared after his hasty exit from Carlos Holguín – Javier hesitated, unsure if this was something Horacio needed to do alone.

“Come with me,” Horacio said after stepping out of the car as though he had read Javier’s mind. “Please.”

That was all the confirmation Javier needed to follow.

They walked silently along a well-kept pathway that forked off in multiple directions. It was maze-like and disorientating, but Horacio took purposeful strides despite how long it had been since his last visit.

He halted at a large marble slate engraved with a crucifix and the CNP emblem. There were some dried old flowers in a vase at the base of it, where Horacio knelt down and swapped them for the fresh bunch of marigolds he’d carried from the car.

“A gift from Mamá,” he whispered. “She’ll be back again soon.”

Horacio remained on the grass and brought his hands up to the back of his neck, where he unhooked the gold chain. He studied it between his fingers, then clasped it in his palm and bowed his head.

The cemetery was empty at this time in the morning, the loud rustling in the trees drowning out the murmur of traffic beginning to burst into life.

Javier watched wordlessly a few feet behind Horacio, almost beginning to feel like he was intruding.

“Pray with me.”

“Are you sure? What if someone –”

“I’m sure. No one’s here but us.”

Javier checked around them once, then twice, just in case. Even if someone did happen to come by, two men praying over a grave wasn’t exactly the most compromising position they could be found in. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once satisfied, Javier joined Horacio on the grass. They couldn’t get away with how they had done this in private, but Horacio dropped his right hand to the floor beside him, palm outstretched.

Javier took the hint and discreetly placed his left hand over the top, encasing the gold necklace between them.

With heads lowered and eyes closed, they prayed. An unspoken acknowledgement of all they had lost and how it had led them here. They honoured memories made, those that would never be, and those they could still make together despite everything.

Horacio’s eyes fluttered open as the sunlight fell on the headstone above him, forcing him to blink away a glassy sheen. His hand stayed connected with Javier’s on the earth, his present and future by his side, giving him strength to finally make peace with his past.

He rose to his feet and made the sign of the cross on his chest before running his fingers along the embossed letters of his father’s name. “Te quiero mucho, Papá.”

Javier gave as much time as was needed until risking a gentle squeeze of Horacio’s shoulder. “You ready?”

Horacio looked from the gravestone to Javier, the charcoal of his irises burning with the fire of conviction. “I’m ready.”

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