agentark - Tumblr blog

agentark · 4 days ago

Text

My Love Mine All Mine

this is a prompt i wrote for one of the asks sent to me by the darling @agentark!!! Tumblr's acting weird for me so I'm posting it here! It's not the best since all my Naliz visions come to me at midnight so just a warning! No high expectations allowed!!!!

Nate huffs out another frustrated sigh, lightly cursing under his breath as his pointer hovers over the luminescent phone screen, the damned thing refusing to show him the only one he bothered using it for in the first place. Another tch from him, loud in the empty library, before finally, it shows him the screen, the one with her picture and name and two painfully bright buttons, with the sound of the annoyingly high-pitched ringtone screaming in impatience. He looks heavenward before looking back down at the screen again, whispers a small prayer, and presses the green one. It makes a sound. The screen, however, is completely pitch-black now. He groans, wishing he had pressed the red one. But Farah had emphasized that red was to decline.

“Haven’t you seen it in the movies? The bad guys ALWAYS press the red one. Don’t do that. Unless you want to avoid Adam sending you more work, then you absolutely should!” she’d snickered, gaining her a grateful nod–not without a tut–from him and a withering glare from Adam.

Before he can lament about his miserable situation, Liz’s beautiful voice chirps. “Do I get to see your gorgeous face, or should I settle for staring at your jeans?” He brings the phone up to face height and smiles, relieved. “Ya rouhi,” he can’t help but breathe out, the sight of her through the ridiculously bright and small screen setting his heart aflame as he looks his fill, gaze greedily jumping from her beautiful, kohl-lined brown eyes to her lovely pink lips, lips twisted in amusement. She smiles at him, revealing a line of teeth that are like pearls strung together, and he can’t help but grin back. “There you are, Jaan. I was this close-,” she pinches her pointer and thumb together, “-to calling Farah to our rescue.” He huffs out a laugh as he settles on the leather sofa, the space feeling desolate without her curled against him, a pang of yearning unfolding in his chest. “Me too, my darling. I am already at the end of my tether. The latest development hasn’t helped with keeping patient either.” Her response is a dramatic groan, and it takes all his strength not to laugh at her exaggerated display, even if he feels very much the same.

Rebecca had informed them of her return to Wayhaven (finally) in the team’s morning brief, only to receive a message that the flight would be delayed and rescheduled to one that would bring her back three days later than the intended date. She would have been home by now, safe and back to her rightful place in his arms, and he’d finally be put out of his misery. He’s done his best not to worry too much. An out-of-town mission, without the team with her, without him beside her, had taken that night’s sleep away, but he couldn’t weigh her down with those thoughts as she’d kissed him goodbye at the airport, choosing to keep his churning stomach’s unease a secret until her takeoff. The mission had been successful, and his anxious thoughts and regular inquiries about the case, which had driven the team near mad, were soon replaced with excitement, thoughts of their evening routine filling his head and making him breathe a bit easier. Until this.

His disappointment led him to battle the cursed thing in his back pocket on his own, just to see her. He’d have to settle for that for now. “Are there truly no more flights to the Big City?” he inquires helplessly, already knowing the answer. “Small airport, baby,” she pouts, before taking a bite out of a rather sad-looking French fry. He can’t help but look at her a bit exasperated, which prompts her to hide the box of the deep-fried crime of potatoes, covered in the even more incriminating artificial excuse for tomato sauce. “When was the last time you saw a real vegetable, ya rouhi?” he asks, feigning disappointment, though the disgust is very much real. Thankfully, he’d made preparations to combat the neglect she’d probably put herself through, the fridge well stocked with mutton biryani and kheer for dessert. “Same time I last saw the sexiest vampire,” she winks back, cleaning the oil off her lips with a tissue and smearing some lipstick on the side of them. Oh, how he wanted her back more than before, the sight of her doing nothing to ease the ache that arose from not being able to touch her, feel her, wrap himself in her, and not let go. The grandfather clock in the library chimes loudly, signalling midnight just as Liz lets out a long yawn. He now notices her sleepy eyes, blinking as she struggles to keep them open, her chin resting on her knee as she stares back at him from under her lashes. Silence fills the space, not uncomfortable, just full of the weight of all the things they’ve said countless times over the past week.

I love you. I miss you. I cannot wait.

He cannot bring himself to part from her just yet, but he doesn't doubt the fact that the busy week and the abrupt delay has finally caught up to her, her shoulders sagging under the weight of it all, eyes half-lidded and drowsy and body wracked with fatigue. “Ya rouhi,” he coos, and delights at the sight of the smile that blooms just for him, her reaction to his voice setting him aflame once more. She hums in question, a sweet and soft sound that makes him long to kiss her again, and to elicit more of those wonderful sounds, sounds that he wishes he could bottle up and taste to his leisure. “Go to sleep, hayati. You've had a long day.” He's reluctant, voice halting as he suggests it rather lightly. She nods back at him, eyes opening fully. “Ok, jaan.” She blows him a kiss, and he mimes catching it before letting his clasped hand settle over his heart. The call cuts off a few seconds later, a white screen glaring back at him, prompting him to get up and rid his beautiful library of the infectious blackbox that he cannot seem to win against.

He walks down the hallway, ready to turn in for the night before he's due for morning patrol again. The warehouse is empty: Adam and Morgan are out on patrol while Farah enjoys a rare evening off at some agency party. His steps seem to lead him down further, past his room until he stands in front of Liz's. Before he can stop himself, he pushes the door handle and lets himself into the tastefully decorated, jewel-colored and heavy wood-laden ambience of her room, taking in the faint remnants of her presence still scattered about. Her scarf—no, their scarf—rests faithfully atop an oriental-style armchair, the dark, rich viridian a perfect contrast against the deep red, patterned cushion. Her dressing table is messy; colorful bottles of perfume haphazardly balancing on each other, lipsticks and liners strewn across, making him remember she left in such short notice. Her scent, rather faint but ever-present, cloaks him and lures him to her bed, neatly made and untouched. He wraps her lawn shawl around himself before finally settling down on his side of her bed, glancing at the book he'd brought to her nightstand a few nights ago. He'd read to her then, in the dim yellow glow of her pink shade lamp, the light soft against brown cheeks, long lashes glistening and brown eyes sneaking glances at him as he'd narrated. He turns to his side now, missing her warmth, the weight of her head on his chest, her arms locked around him and one leg resting on top of his. Thoughts of her lull him to sleep as he consoles himself. Only three more days.

His fitful and half-attempts at sleep are quashed by the sound of a car engine roar coming to a halt. Agent Langford-Khan. He sighs, before rolling over and checking the time. Five in the morning. It is still quite dark outside but the world outside lightly begins to stir, the night's choir of crickets silent, and in their place, some chirps. He rubs his eyes before hauling himself off the bed, making his way to welcome Rebecca in. His steps halt for only a moment when he hears her heartbeat. Liz.

He's at the front door within a second, just as she makes her way in through the hidden door, letting out a small gasp of surprise before melting into the biggest and happiest of smiles. “Elizabeth,” he says almost breathlessly, the sight before him like a dream.

He takes a step towards her as she runs up and barrels into him, his hands coming up to hold and lift her so she's pressed against him completely, leaving not an inch of space between them. He kisses her without further delay, tasting her laugh, his hands feeling, touching, caressing every inch of her before one settles around her waist and the other hand cards through the long, curly brown tresses and curls of her hair, urging her even closer, if possible. She responds with a moan, and he feels lightheaded as her presence surrounds him, driving him near mad with ecstasy when she tugs at his long hair, her other hand settling over his shoulder. They both break away for a brief moment; him wanting to see her face again and her to dip beneath his chin to lay gentle, teasing kisses along his jaw and neck. He sighs in complete bliss, eyes rolling back as her lips move across, a hint of teeth on his skin that overwhelms him with a warm, wonderful, electric sensation, making his toes curl. She comes up again to his face and begins to pepper his face with strong, loving kisses, covering every inch of him in her lipstick. His eyelids, forehead, cheeks, chin, jaw, and lips are fondled with the utmost attention, and he is happy to bask in all her affection, angling closer to her. With one last heated kiss to his lips, she rests her forehead against his, closing her eyes in bliss. He looks up at her through a half-lidded gaze, the honey-like stupor of the moment completely arresting all sane thought and reason, rendering him at her mercy. He does not mind it one bit. He rests his face in the crook of her neck, his lips refusing to part from the delicate, tempting skin there and he inhales in relief, the jasmine scent of her encompassing and calming all his senses once again.

Finally, both of them, home.

She runs her fingers through his hair, lightly caressing and massaging all the way to the nape of his neck, pressing another kiss to his temple. He could remain like this forever, forever in their embrace and the world could turn upside down and it wouldn't matter one bit, not when she anchors him.

The click of heels that seem to be louder on purpose brings them both back to reality and he gently lets her down, albeit reluctantly. Liz looks up at him, eyes snapping open wide in horror. She frantically begins wiping at his face, the glossy pink lipstick no doubt more smeared than erased. Before they can make the situation any better (or worse), Rebecca walks in with Liz's pink duffel bag in her hands, voice catching in her throat as she balks at the sight before her. Liz steps away from him, standing beside him as Nate purses his lips in embarrassment, blood rushing to his cheeks as he wrings his hands together and bends his head down, trying to hide his face from her mother’s view. Liz shifts on her feet beside him, the both of them looking like two teenagers caught in a hopeless and amateur display of their love. He hears Rebecca take in a deep breath, clearing her throat before addressing them. “I took it upon myself to bring Liz back before this afternoon's meeting,” she states, voice strained and gaze pointed away from them. “Do not forget to attend it. Both of you.” Were it not for the immeasurable joy his whole being radiated with, he'd probably beg the ground to swallow him up. Liz walks rather shamefully towards her mother, taking the bag from her outstretched hand before giving her a quick, awkward hug and a muttered thank you that sounds more like a squeak. Rebecca turns on her heel and walks towards the entrance fast, almost akin to someone escaping. The door's mechanical whir sounds as she scans her card, and only after it closes does Nate let out a pitiful groan as Liz giggles. He looks at her with mock accusation, prompting a louder laugh from her, eyes crinkling and voice echoing through the vast space, filling it with warmth and life all over again. He smiles, bringing her to himself once more, the remnants of her amusement settling to something adoring as she looks up at him. He brings her hand to his lips, before settling his face into the her palm.

“Welcome back home, my darling Lilibet.”

#my loves!!!!#this is so sweet! so soft!#twc fic #wonderful work my friend!😻

17 notes · View notes