#let star wars be h word
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latenightdaydreams · 8 months ago
Text
Tutor (fem)
Loser!König x Bully!Reader
MDNI🔞
Part 2 Part 3
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, bully, oral, p in v, virginity loss
2.3k word count
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König is a loser. He’s a 23-year-old virgin college student who is too scared to talk to women. He would much rather stay home and build Gundam’s, play video games, or work on his schoolwork. In public, he is quiet and timid. He tries to blend in to not be seen. Being a whole 6 '10, he can’t. As a child, he was constantly bullied for his size and being chubby. As an adult, he still gets picked on for being tall and awkward.
You are a part of the problem. A short, curvy, big-breasted bitch; the apple of his eye. König sits in the back of class and watches your hips sway as you walk to your seat. The way your breasts bounce like hentai boobies. His cock grows hard as you bend over, making your cleavage more visible to him. Just as he got lost in a trance, you snap him out of it.
“What are you looking at? Freak!”
Your hands on your hips, a disgusted look on your face. König’s face turns red as he realizes that you’ve caught him in the act. You flip him off and turn to sit. He reaches down to adjust his boner, taking a deep breath and letting out a small sigh.
After class, as everyone stands to pack their bags, he stays seated, looking at his cell phone. He has your Instagram profile opened on his phone, gazing at a bikini picture you posted this summer. You look absolutely perfect in your tiny pink bikini. He has become so lost in your photos; he didn’t realize you were walking past him to leave.
“What the fuck?” A loud laugh breaks out.
König looks up to see that you caught him looking at your profile. He turns off the screen of his phone and clears his throat. Inside his chest, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s going to explode from embracement.
“Sorry.” His voice is meek as he avoids eye contact with you.
“Fucking loser.” You scoff while walking away.
This was going to be a long year.
Three months into the school year, you haven’t turned in one assignment yet and have failed the few tests you’ve had. The dean sent you a message telling you that if you don’t raise your grades, you would be at risk of being put on academic probation. You needed a tutor, and fast.
König sits in his dorm room at his desk, working on building Lego set #21348, when he hears a knock at his door. He looks over his shoulder at his door, trying to decide if he wants to deal with people. After a few seconds, he stands to answer the door.
Once he opens the door, his eyes grow wide seeing you standing there. “Oh, h-hey y/n.”
“Hey König.” You smile up at him and push him aside, walking into his room. His room is simple and neat. Robot figures anywhere he can place them and a Lego set on his desk. You walk over and look at the set, König walking up behind you.
“So, what is this? Star Wars?”
König tilts his head confused about how wrong you are. Do you even know what Star Wars is? “Uh, no. Star Wars is a space themed futuristic story…” He could see the lack of interest on your face. “So, why are you here?”
“Geez, you’re a bigger fucking nerd than I thought you were.” You say pushing over a mini figure he has posed on the desk. His mouth hangs open, stopping himself from asking you to not do that. He watches as you turn and take a seat on his desk chair.
You look up at König as he towers over you. “You’re smart, right?”
“I guess.” König rubs the back of his neck feeling bashful.
“Well, I’m failing math, and I need a tutor. The issue is… well, I can’t afford one. So I was wondering if you could tutor me.”
This isn’t what he was expecting, well more of not what he hoped for. “I don’t have time to tutor. Sorry.”
Your smile drops and you stand up. “Too busy? You’re always in here building stupid fucking Legos or robot’s models.”
“Technically Gundam’s are mechs, not robots like a transformer.”
“Wow. Okay.” You sound annoyed and uninterested. “So, are you going to help me or not?”
“I already said I can’t.” His voice gets even more timid.
You’re not use to people saying no to you, especially not pathetic men who worship the ground you walk on. In fact, you hate being told no. How fucking dare he.
“So, you can sit and fucking gawk at me, stalk my social media accounts, but you can’t help me for a few fucking hours?” You push his muscular chest.
He stumbles backwards, actually intimidated by you. Speechless, he doesn’t know what to say. His eyes drop to your breasts as you keep walking to him. Not one thought in his mind other than how hot you look at this exact moment.
“I- I uh, I.”
“What? You forgot how to talk?” You push him once more and he falls back on to his bed. As soon as he does, your eyes drift down to the tent growing in his pants and you laugh. König’s eyes go wide as your hand reaches out, grasping his boner through his sweats; his face burning hot. He looks up at you in a daze.
“Oh, wow. Loser actually has a fat cock.” Your other hand grabs his jaw and forces him to look into your eyes. You lean in and lick from his lips to his nose before moving back and letting go of him.
König’s heart is fluttering in his chest, this feels like a dream. His eyes watch like a hungry dog as you pull your tight fitted shirt, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. Your hands unbutton your jeans and expose a thin thong that barely covers your fat pussy lips.
“Why are you still dressed?” Your voice shocks him out of his daze.
Quickly, he pulls his shirt off. A ripped muscular body is not what you expected him to have under his baggy clothing. He drops his sweat pants along with his boxers allowing his cock to spring free. König, now nude, stands in front of you frozen. His gaze lingering on your pussy. You’re the first woman he’s seen naked in person.
“Do you have condoms?”
He looks at his bedside table, even though he is well aware he has none. “Um, no. I don’t.”
“I knew you were probably a virgin.” He blushes and looks down when you say this. You walk closer to him. “Are you?”
“Ja, I am.”
“No fucking wonder. Lay down.” You demand in a strict tone.
König jumps like a drill sergeant to yell at him. He quickly gets on his bed and looks at you. His cock twitching with excitement. You climb onto the bed with him, straddling his massive body. His hands instinctively rest on your thighs as you lean in and kiss his lips.
“How about I teach you—” You kiss him in between talking. “How to fuck—” His fingers squeeze your thighs. “And you tutor me?”
Without thinking, König nods his head enthusiastically.
“Good. We will start with math.” You giggle, reaching your hand behind his head to pull the pillows away from behind him.
König looks confused by your comment. Math? Then his eyes go wide as you straddle his face. Your twat lingers above him. He gazes up as if you’ve just shown him God. If he could take your scent and make air fresheners, he would. His cock is upright, erect, waiting to taste you.
“Stick your tongue out, big boy.” You lean forward and place your hands on his chest. One hand reaches forward and jerks his cock.
König sticks his tongue out eagerly, watching your body as you lower yourself onto his face. Your pussy rests on his mouth and nose, hips rocking back and forth on his tongue. His eyes flutter closed as he tastes pussy for the first time. How could he have lived this long without tasting this sweet nectar?
His fingers dig into your thighs as he pulls you down closer to his face. His tongue rapidly laps at your cunt, slurping and drinking your wetness. You moan, eyes closing as you continue to grind; he’s surprisingly skilled.
“You want me to suck your cock?”
“Ja, bitte.” He groans, his sound muffled from you sitting on his face.
Leaning forward, you pull his foreskin down and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. He lets out a moan, his toes curling. Your hands move in motion with your head as you bob your head up and down on his cock. König moans into your sopping wet cunt. He’s in heaven.
König’s hips thrust forward to match your rhythm. One of his hands moves from your thigh up your body to squeeze your breast before roaming back down. When you pull your mouth away from his cock, he thrust forward even more, craving your friction. You lift yourself up off of him, his hands hold on to your thighs tighter as if trying to keep you on him. Reluctantly, he lets you go; swiping his tongue between your folds once more as you stand.
You move your body to the side of him. He watches you as he licks his lips, trying to savor the taste of you. The heat of your pussy radiates over your cock.
“You’re buying me a Plan B right after this.”
“I will.” His eyes are glued to yours.
Slowly you rock your hips over his cock before grasping it at the base. You look into his eyes as you lower yourself on him.
König’s mouth drops open and he lets out a loud groan. His eyes glued to your tight cunt stretching around his cock. He grabs at the blanket underneath him, squeezing it to the point his knuckles are turning white. He can’t last long in your pussy.
“Mein Gott, you- your pussy—” He can’t form a coherent sentence.
His hands reach out for your breasts as you bounce on him. You have the most incredible pair of tits he has ever seen. He’s always known you were hot, but seeing you like this, not even Aphrodite couldn't compare.
You slap away his hand and lean forward. “Grab my ass and fuck me.”
König nods, having seen this in porn before, he knows what to do. He thinks. His large hands grasp your fat ass and squeeze his fingers into the supple flesh; bending his legs at the knee, he begins to thrust up into you.
As he tries his hardest to not cum, his thrust is slow. He looks at the ceiling as his mind is running 110mph. You grab his jaw again, forcing him to look at you.
“Fuck me. Harder.” You demand of him.
“I don’t…want to hurt you.” He struggles to speak, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes.
“If you don’t fuck me hard, we are done here.”
König would not let his crush on the last two semesters just walk away, especially not since he got you to this part. Guys like him don’t get women like you. He grabs you and rolls you over on to the bed, slamming you down a little harder than he meant to. The look on your face tells him you didn’t mind one bit.
He grabs your hips and pulls you to him, slipping his cock back inside of your tight little cunny. You moan out as your hands grab his arms. König doesn’t hold back as he restricts your movements underneath him using his massive size. He pulls his hips back far before slamming down into you. His enormous cock being rammed deep inside of you, deeper than you can take.
“Oh, fuck! Like that you fucking freak!” You moan out.
König lets out a small growl as he ravishes your body, ruining your cunt for any other man. His mouth clashes into yours, desperate for your kiss. A trail of his hot wet kisses leaving from your mouth down to your breasts. He bites the skin around your areola, marking you as his for your stupid fuck buddy to see.
You push him back. “Rub my clit.” You reach for his hand and guide it so he knows where to touch. “Do small circles.”
He nods and begins to rub slowly at first until you yell at him to go faster. König lets out a surprised moan as he feels you tightening around him. Is this what a female orgasm is? Fuck yes! His hips faster, his rhythm slightly off as he tries to also focus on your clit.
“Don’t stop.” König watches in amazement as you arch your back and tremble. Your pussy becomes so wet it's splashing as he rubs it. He feels on top of the world.
Instantly, a loud pitched moan leaves his throat. A stupid smile crosses his face as he eyes go slightly crossed. He cums deep inside of your pussy. As his body naturally falls forward you push him off to the side.
König lays on his back, on cloud nine. His pale eyes study your face and your body as you lay beside him.
“So,” your breathing is still heavy, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we can start working on my tutoring.”
He nods, willing to give you anything you ask for at this point. Mentally, he is not over the fact he just ate and fucked y/n, you, your pussy.
You stand from the bed and begin to get dressed. Your cunt hurts, König fucks like a mating bull. He’s a good fuck though, there is not denying that.
“Oh, and if you tell anyone, you’re dead.”
“I understand.” König watches you as you get dressed with hearts in his eyes. “What are we?”
You stop and look at him for a moment before letting out a small laugh and shaking your head.
Part 2 Part 3
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munsonsreputation · 2 months ago
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the tiger
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [5.4K]
warnings: warnings: semi proof-read, no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has *secret survival skills,* k!lling the guards who are attacking stevie + friends, fire, mentions of blood and death (don't worry it ends with fluff <3), (partly inspired by 'dot' in fargo s5)
Summary: Thrusted into the unknown of the Upside Down and otherworldly creatures that came with it, you finally had a reason to let the tiger out of its cage and to everyone’s surprise they never thought you had it in you to save their lives and the world.
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“You have five fucking seconds to tell me where they’re coming from!”
Your voice clamored vociferously, standing above one of the obviously now dead guards that had been tracking your boyfriend and his friends around Star Court for god knows how long.
Had Steve not left the stupid walkie talkie on, you wouldn’t have heard the beseeching cries and shouts that had rung through the device while you were sitting at home having a day to yourself as you waited for him to clock out of work.
The second you heard the code red, your fight or flight activated, hopping onto the channel as you tried to get filled in on what was happening. Perhaps a robbery or even a lockdown, but what you didn’t expect was to hear your boyfriend tell you that there was a secret Russian Base under Star Court and the girl he babysat was now their prime target.
They were coming for the ones you loved and you’d be damned if they even laid a finger on any of them, let alone the love of your life.
You were a woman of many skills: you knew how to cook up a good roast dinner, could play a few songs on the piano if you tried hard enough, and you even knew how to hot wire a car in case of emergencies.
But you were also a woman with many tricks up her sleeves: guns hidden in the floorboards, a deadly mean quick hand, and most of all a tiger that had been kept in its cage for too long and now the perfect time to set her free.
Steve’s mouth was held agape, staring up at you shellshocked and confused, as did everyone else. The last thing they expect was for you to throw yourself into danger with them, and most of all to see you with a gun in your hands ready to go to war—a war where one enemy's life was already taken.
“W—what….baby, what, I, h-how?” He stammered weakly, pulling himself to sit against the wall, limbs still aching after all the torment he endured.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was the drugs still in his system, making him see things. But sure enough, this was real life, and you just killed a man right before his eyes.
“Y-you just killed him.” He swallowed thickly, watching the floor pool with blood, which got progressively bigger, prompting everyone to scoot away.
You wrung your neck, lowering the gun to your side, nudging the corpse with your foot just to be sure he was really gone.
“He tried to kill you all first.” You defended, shaking your head at the scene, still in disbelief that this was the circumstances.
Time wasn’t on your side and clearly neither was the slim hallway they were hiding in. Despite everyone’s consternation, you knew it wasn’t the right time to explain any of this on your behalf. Every second counted, and you needed to get moving before the enemies zeroed in.
You stepped over to Steve, stooping down to his level, your eyes locked with his softly. Sympathy leaking from them knowing he went through hell, but your voice was a grim contrast that was needed for the moment.
“Look, you need to tell me where they’re coming from so I can help. I can’t get us to safety if I don’t know where they’re coming from. Tell me, Steve… now.”
You thumbed his chin mildly ordering him to focus on you and not the dead body on the ground.
His jaw trembling in your touch, eyes moving from side to side checking the halls.
“T—the back exits. We tried to get out but then we had to backtrack because that guy found us.” He gulped, hurtling his eyes to the body.
You took a deep breath, dragging his face back to you to begin surveying his injuries. His lip was busted open, dried blood coating the skin around his mouth and making a trail all the way down to his neck. The skin around his eye was swollen, a pale yellow settling against his tan skin that would surely turn all sorts of blue and purples.
“They did a number on you, huh?” You whispered, glancing down at his knuckles where fresh blood clung to the skin. He obviously put up a good fight before you arrived.
“But he finally won a fight! He knocked one of the guards out!” Dustin expressed, somehow still a little jubilant despite the mere fact that their lives were on the line.
You huffed out a weak laugh, dropping your hand from his face and turning to survey everyone else. Robin looked to sustain the same injuries as Steve yet a little less severe. Unlike Steve, she was still high on whatever drugs they had given her. You could tell by her dilated pupils alone.
For the most part, all the kids seemed to be in good shape physically. They showed no signs of injury, just sweat dripping down their foreheads and chests that were breathing heavily still disturbed up by the chaos.
But it was El whose pant leg was saturated with blood that instantly had you concerned. She sat with her back against the wall, weakly resting her head on Max’s shoulder while Mike clasped her hand. She looked about ready to drop, weak and drained of all her might.
“What happened to your leg?” You jutted your chin out, inching over to her and silently asking for permission, which she granted, and you swiftly tugged on the cuff of her jeans.
Lucas scratched his neck, face twisting when you exposed the gory laceration.
“A Demogorgon kinda attached itself to her and when we tried to get it off, it took some skin with it.”
“A demo what?” You asked bewildered, looking around at everyone for some sort of explanation that they clearly couldn’t give you right now.
“It’s basically the big evil creature that’s out to get El.” Will clarified, saving you from the technicalities of it all.
“But there’s also Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, which is out to get us…or actually, specifically El, right now,” Dustin reminded, as if you would know what any of that meant.
“I have so many questions,” you mumbled, eyes closing, trying to fathom the absurdity before opening them wide and taking a deep breath.
“But right now, I need to dress this wound before she bleeds out.”
Everyone agreed, moving close to get a good look but enough to give El space to breathe. You looked around, wondering who would best to stay on lookout while you were busy. Steve was obviously still rattled, and you were positive Robin nor Jonathan would be good with a gun, so you decided on Nancy.
She surprisingly knew a lot about guns, a suspicious amount to make you think she knew exactly how to use one.
“Can you use this?” You looked over at her, holding the weapon up as she nodded with confidence, holding her hand out for it.
“Watch both ways and if you see anyone, shoot until you’re sure they are dead.” You advised, handing it off to her before you crawled towards the dead guard.
They kept their eyes on you, observing you work the belt through the pant loops and take the pen from his shirt pocket, scurrying back to El. Contorting the belt into a loop around her leg, you fastened it tightly, apologizing under your breath when she whimpered, trying to keep her cries muted.
You tucked the excess leather around, taking a deep breath when you looked up at her after wedging the pen between the material and her skin. This part was always the worst, but it was for the greater good of her health.
“It’s gonna hurt, but I need to do this to make sure you don’t bleed out anymore than you already did, alright?”
She nodded, readying herself against the wall, closing her eyes tightly, reaching for Max’s hand and gripping it tightly You gave her a quiet countdown before beginning to twist. They all hushed her cries all while you didn’t stop until it was sheath-like, knowing it was the only way for the blood to clot and temporarily seal the wound.
“All done.” You patted her calf, dusting your hands and standing up.
With how much time you all had already wasted, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the guards found you in the only place they hadn’t searched. You had to think quick, walking over to the corpse and working the sling of the gun off his torso and draping it over yourself before you searched the rest of his pockets.
“Jonathan, here.” You shook a taser in the air, tossing it to him.
“Robin, this is for you.” A mace spray was put into her hands and the long distance aspect was going to be great.
“And baby, this is all yours.” You reached into your own back pocket where another gun was hidden, holding it out for him as he took it, inspecting the weapon and looking up at you surprised.
“Where did you even get this?” He gawked perplexed, somehow searching for answers instead of focusing on making it out alive to ask said questions when your lives weren’t on the line.
“It’s a long story, but I’ll catch you up when we make it out here, yeah?”
“What about us?” Dustin declared, arms held out wide wanting to get a super duper cool weapon like everyone else.
You reached around your waist, slipping off the walkie and tossing it at him. “Get on the emergency channel and give them our location and say there’s been a fire at Star Court and that we’re locked in.”
“A fire? Wouldn’t it be easier to just radio for Hop?” Max suggested, but you shook your head with a heavy sigh, giving everyone the unfortunate news that the easy way out wasn’t a possibility anymore.
“I called the station before I got here and Hop is nowhere to be found. The rest of the staff thought I was having a psychotic breakdown. I doubt they’re gonna believe Russians and some enormous creature are trying to take over Hawkins.”
Hope began to fade from their faces, but you knew you could get everyone out despite the odds—they just had to trust you.
“Look, I’m gonna lead and make sure it’s clear. When I say clear, I want you to run straight as fast as you can and when I say duck, you get down where you are and you do not move. Understood?”
They all nodded, beginning to move themselves off the ground, ready for your command. You led the pack, crouching low to hide behind walls peeking around the corner ensuring it was clear to which it was.
“Clear,” you whisper shouted, stepping out of the way and ushering all of them to keep moving, shuffling against the floors and doing their best to keep their movements fluid and quick.
“Duck,” you shouted a little louder, successfully making it to the main floor of the food court.
“I can hear them,” Erica muttered, eyes darting up, signaling that they were close by, and continuing to move would blow your cover.
“Give me something.” You mouthed, holding your palm out towards Lucas who speedily reached into his back pocked providing you with a slingshot and a small pebble.
“What are you doing?” Steve whispered.
“Causing a distraction and getting us back in the clear.” You murmured, attempting to get your aim just perfect.
Pulling the rubber band back, you held the rock securely, steering it towards the second floor, hoping it would reach far enough, only having one take. Before you could second guess yourself, you let it rip, watching the rock soar through the air, just barely making it over the railing and clanging against the metal, causing the shouts of the guards to echo in the empty mall.
With them distracted in the opposite direction, you gestured to everyone to stick close, needing to get as far away as possible.
“C’mon, follow me,” you whispered, crouching as you crawled toward the food court.
Steve followed closely behind you, gun cocked and ready to fire if there was a sudden attack, but his mind was clearly still trying to process everything in front of him.
“I can’t believe this is happening. Are you like a spy or something?” Steve hissed from behind you, causing you to turn your head over your shoulder, glaring at his outrageous question.
“No, I’m not a spy Steven.” You jeered, shaking your head before diverting your attention back in front of you to lead the pack.
“Then—then how do you know all about this stuff?” He argued still trying to keep his voice low despite the gnawing fear and uncertainty lingering in his mind.
You two had been together for quite sometime, and Steve figured he would have at least an inkling of knowledge that his girlfriend had the survival skills of a trained professional, let alone having the ability to kill someone cold blooded.
“I told you I was a girl scout when I was younger.” You retorted.
“Girl scouts sell cookies! They don’t know how to work guns or survive through a world takeover.” He remarked unbelievably.
Lucas who lurked too closely behind his beloved babysitter, nudged at his neck, eyes going wide as he spoke in defense of you.
“Are you really questioning her skills right now? She just killed that guard and saved our lives.” He argued, narrowing his eyes at Steve wondering how he could think this was the right moment to debate you.
Steve swallowed, shaking his head and catching up to you. “I’m sorry okay! I’m just confused and lost and—”
“Duck!” you shouted, pulling Steve's arm and throwing yourself onto the ground as gunfire started, screams and shouts ringing out as you covered your head and tried to shield yourself from any stray bullets.
“Oh, my god! We’re gonna die! We’re so gonna die!” Robin shouted, holding her hands over her ears, pinching her eyes shut tight, as if her last moments on Earth would take place any second.
“Robin shut up! You’re not helping!” Max scolded, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as the gunshots slowly quieted and their voices faded.
“Stay here!” You demanded quietly, gesturing at all of them to stay low and close.
Listening in, the guards diverted towards the opposite direction, giving you all a moment to breathe and recoup for a few seconds.
Dustin looked over at El, quickly spitting out top secret information. “El can help, she has powers!”
At that point, you didn’t know what was real life and fantasy anymore. The lines were blurred and no matter how much you wanted to wake up and believe it was all just a surreal dream you knew their lives and yours were at stake for you to waste any time questioning the boy.
You sucked in a deep breath, eyeing the girl who sat weak and defeated, eyes communicating the want to help, but she physically couldn’t.
“She has a messed up leg. I doubt we want to put her in more danger by letting her use her… powers.” You reasoned with a sigh, passing her an understanding look. Everyone hopelessly agreed.
There was no time to waste and the best bet you had at escaping was eliminating as many of the enemies as you could. Tugging at the strap of the gun around your body, you quickly released the magazine, checking the bullets and debating your choices.
They watched you carefully, as if you were doing mental match before you clicked the magazine back into placed and nodded to yourself.
You glanced at everyone, beginning to brief them on the plan.
“In the meantime, call for help and everybody else stay here and do not move until I say clear. Got it?” You said, watched as Dustin picked up the walkie, whisper-shouting for help as everyone else nodded.
“W-What about me?” Steve gulped, eyes twinkling with a need to know how he could help—or it could’ve been the aftereffects of the drugs making him hallucinate.
You reached out, patting his cheek fondly despite the circumstances.
“Watch my back and don’t let me die.” You responded.
“Yeah, I can do that.” He nodded promptly, holding the gun into position, a little more confidently this time knowing he couldn’t let anything happen to you.
With no more time to spare, you scrambled off your feet, leaving them behind the protection of the counter whilst you stayed hidden behind a concrete pillar.
With the mess of debris on the floor, you stomped hard on a Coca-Cola can and kicked it away. The sound of aluminum screeching across the floors and grabbing the attention of the guards who you were trying to lure onto lower ground to be on your playing field.
Your friends winced at the sound, but they didn’t let out a peep, following your directions carefully. They listened intently, picking up a few voices from the top floor muttering as their footsteps pounded against with every step, trying to figure out where the sound had come from.
“Stay down.” You mouthed to them, giving them a final warning as you took a deep breath.
If you were correct, their blocking would be in a single file row, hoping to cover as much ground as they could and spread the gunfire as opposed to clumping up. You had to be stealthy and fast—and boy, were you good at that.
“Over here, assholes!”
Firing a single shot into the air, footsteps and shouts traveled down the broken escalators, bullets and gunfire echoed through the mall as you held your breath and braced yourself.
You kept the gun parallel to your shoulder, finger steady over the trigger as you ducked down and away from the pillar, moving left to right as you fired in quick sequences, watching as their bodies dropped in tandem with each bullet that pierced through them.
Steve couldn’t see any of the damage you had done with counter acting as an obstructed view, but he could see your every move. The curl of your lip and the squinting of your eyes as you moved across the floors smoothly, as if this wasn’t your first time.
If he didn’t know any better, he would think he was falling in love again.
“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaimed, immediately standing up when the gunfire came to a halt, forgetting that he was supposed to wait for your all clear.
“Bitch!” A gruff voice spat harshly, from the floor, a wounded guard who was inching towards his gun causing everyone else to scream panicked.
“Shit!” Lucas cursed, reaching for his friend’s arm to pull him down.
“Get down, you dumbass!” Max added, tugging harshly at his leg, until he fall on top of their bodies causing groans.
“Relax!” you shouted, firing off a single bullet—your last one, as you finally stood up straight.
“Now he’s dead.” You said, letting your chest fall with a relieved breath as you made your way over to the scene, nudging the guard with your foot once more just to be sure he was decimated.
Slowly your friends creeped up from their hiding spot, mouths falling open and foreheads creasing with disbelief as the guards laid lifeless as if it wasn’t a fair fight. You were unharmed, in perfectly mint condition, gesturing your friends to come out while you made your rounds and seized the weapons from the dead.
“So this mind flayer thing that after El…” You huffed, bending down to flip over a guard and remove his rifle from his body.
“How do we kill it?” You asked, hurling the empty gun away from your body and replacing it with the new one.
Your question fell on deaf ears, as they were too caught in trying to process what the hell just happened, and the fact that you were acting so normal about it.
“Are we really skipping over the fact that there’s about a dozen dead Russian spies laying on the ground right now, that you killed?” Mike finally broke the silence, threading his hands through his hair trying not to throw up at the scene.
You glanced back at them, still rummaging through the pockets and creating a pile of weapons for them to pick through and use.
“Yes, I killed them.” You rolled your eyes, standing up straight and crossing your arms over your chest. “Now can we move on and find a way out of here, because I’d really like to avoid another gunfight.”
“Fire. It doesn’t like heat.” Nancy replied hastily, ignoring her little brother’s attitude, as she went towards the pile, picking out her own weaponry knowing you were right.
“Okay, well, does anyone have any ideas?” You diverted your eyes towards everyone else, happy that at least Nancy was at least attempting to get into the right headspace.
“Is the professional killer really asking us?” Mike retorted crudely, looking you up and down as if you were supposed to solve every problem in the world.
“Oh my god, would you just stop!” You snapped back, prompting the rest of the kids to smack their friend over the head, chiding at his indifference.
“You need to stop being a smartass. She just saved your girlfriend’s life and all of our asses, too.” Erica retorted, shaking her head as she walked off, picking up a taser from the pile, and smirking down at it.
You closed your eyes tightly, fighting off a migraine that was surely going to take full effect soon, not having the patience to prepare yourself for a deadly monster commie battle on a Friday afternoon.
“Guy’s focus, we need to find a way to kill this thing and then get out,” Jonathan interjected, snapping everyone back into reality, beginning to brainstorm.
Steve’s eyes darted towards the top level of the hall, the bright red letters catching his attention, and soon enough the idea sparked like a light bulb.
“Babe…the Supercuts.” He spoke quickly, pointing upstairs as everyone else tried to put together what he was getting at.
“What?” You furrowed your brows, waiting for him to explain.
“Hairspray, it’s flammable, and they’ve gotta have like a gazillion cans in there, right?” He laughed half-heartedly, hoping he wasn’t just being a dingus.
A smile creeped onto your face, thankful that his obsession with his hair had another purpose.
“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re a genius, Harrington.” Robin sighed out with a weak laugh, running her hands through her hair as she walked in circles, waiting for you to give them directions.
“We’ll split up. One group will go get the hairsprays and the others will go find lighters.”
You and Steve raced up the broken escalator steps, with some of the kids following behind you both. While Nancy and Jonathan went off to find the fire source.
It was like an assembly line, you and Steve picking up boxes of the hairspray and sending it along as each kid passed it down to the ground floor, wanting to reduce the amount of trips taken up and down.
Jonathan and Nancy were able to find a few lighters hidden in the jackets of the guards, though they surely were disgusted with the thought of basically robbing the dead. Even Dustin and Erica managed to rip apart some of the concession stands, lugging out the propane tanks, knowing they would help tremendously if they wanted to burn the Mind Flayer to ash.
El, despite her injury, aided in opening the boxes of hairspray. Running a pocketknife along the taped seam and pouring out the bottles for easy access. It only took a couple of minutes before you all finished up with the task of gathering the materials and other helpful stuff that was scattered across the dirty mall floor, waiting for the game plan.
“How do we lure this thing in?” You caught your breath, brushing back your hair, hoping this supposed monster wasn’t too scary to handle.
“Blood, but I don’t think using El would be smart right now. She’s low on energy and her powers might not be as strong as they were before.”
Mike looked down at his girlfriend’s leg that was still in obvious pain as she apologetically smiled at everyone desperately wishing she could help.
You reassured her with a gentle nod, sticking your hand out towards her, asking for the pocketknife that she apprehensively handed over to you, well aware of what you were going to use it for.
Holding it in your dominant hand, you held your breath, ready to slice through the palm of your opposite hand.
“What are you doing?” Steve’s eyes widened, immediately grabbing your wrist and stopping you.
You shook your head at him obliviously, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
“What does it look like? I’m going to lure him in.”
“You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to let my girlfriend be the bait for this monster.”
“Steve, I’m going to be fin—”
“Look as much as this lovers quarrel is a bit entertaining and slightly endearing, we have very little time left and if we don’t get a head start on killing this thing, then there’s no way in hell any of us is making it out of here alive.” Dustin interrupted, tapping his foot on the ground and holding up his wristwatch.
You sighed, relaxing in Steve’s hold. Your eyes softening as he met yours doubtfully not wanting to put you in danger more than you already had. But deep inside, you and Steve both knew that the best bet of getting out alive was letting you take the lead, and you needed him to trust you.
“Let me do this, please? You’re always playing hero and fixing everything. Let me take over for once okay? I trust that you won’t let anything happen to me, so if you see me struggling, I give you full permission to step in. But please, just let me have a go first.”
You brows pulled together, attempting to get through to him despite understanding his justified resistance.
Shutting his eyes tightly, and letting out a deep breath, his fingertips loosened over your wrists before he nodded and looked at you once more.
“F-fine, okay! But the second, I don’t feel comfortable, I’m stepping in and no one better stop me.” He turned around, pointing a stern finger at everyone else who nodded without a second thought.
“Let’s get this rodeo on the road.”
The kids were instructed to move to higher ground, none of you wanting them to be harmed in the crossfire to come. They were equipped with a few bottles of hairspray, lighters, and duct tape to create their own version of a hybrid flamethrower-molotov that they would chuck down at the Mind Flayer.
Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan were behind the same Orange Julius counter that shielded them a short while ago, while Steve insisted that he stick a few feet closer to you but still hidden behind the concrete planters.
There was no time to die.
Sucking in a deep breath and holding it, you slide the knife across your palm, watching as the blood began to pool and your arm started to tremor.
“Come and get me you asshole!” You shouted, wincing while you held your arm out, attempting to lure the monster in with the smell of your blood.
It came like a rolling thunder from a distance, a loud roar crushing through your eardrums causing you to drop the knife, bending down to pick up your gun while the mall lights began to flicker and the deafening screeches came closer before the glass shattered above you.
“Fuck,” you grimaced, throwing yourself onto the ground, clutching your arms around your head, attempting to shield yourself from the falling debris.
But the glass was quickly the least of your worries with the sight of a subhuman creature stomping towards you. It looked beyond barbaric, mottled skin of some sort dripping with an icky substance as its razor blade like mouth opened and resounded something frightful in the air.
You had to kill it…or at least try.
Struggling to grip the gun tightly with your injured hand, you did what you could, firing multiple shots into the mouth of the creature, watching as it shrieked sharply and its legs jerked into the air. But despite not letting up on the trigger, the monster didn’t seem phased, still stalking its way towards you and running out of bullets you knew you didn’t have enough time to reload the magazine.
“Fire!” you shouted, throwing the gun away and crawling towards safety where Steve was holding a hand out to you.
“Come on!” Steve yelled, rushing out into the open without thinking, tightly grabbing your hands and essentially pulling you across the floors before the fire could swallow you whole.
You could feel the heat just a few feet away, the mixture of the flamethrower-molotovs combined with the gunfire being set off created an infero that popped and sizzled away at the monster with each cry resulting in a limb being weakened and dropping to the ground.
While you were too busy watching the scene in front of you, Steve was more worried about you, just nearly escaping a death trap that he would have never forgiven himself for. His back hit a stop, sliding down the wall as he wrapped his arms around your frame, shielding you from the wreckage as the monster’s cries slowly died out with the heat burning it to ash.
“We need to go!” a voice yelled from the top floor, the children racing down the escalator steps with El being carried out by Max and Mike.
“This place is going to burn down, let’s go!” Robin slid out from behind the counter towards you and Steve, tugging the both of you up, before running towards the nearest exit.
“I got you, baby. Come on.” Steve whispered, hauling your body into his arms, hurrying towards the doors where Jonathan and Nancy held it open, waving their hands and shouting for you both to hurry.
His footsteps didn’t halt against the pavements, wanting to get as far away as he possibly could, worried the Mind Flayer would somehow survive the blazes and come back for you now that you were the new target. Running across the street, they all collapsed onto the ground, eyes widening as the entire mall became engulfed in flames and sirens began ringing through the open air.
Steve managed to set you down on a patch of dying grass, hands traveling across your clothing and skin, trying to make sure you weren’t hurt.
“Are you okay? Did that thing hurt you anywhere? Talk to me, c’mon.” He pleaded, clutching your cheeks in his hands.
Your lips push out harsh breaths, eyes filling with tears as you coughed out roughly.
“I—I’m fine,” you whispered, swallowing through the dryness in your throat.
“Just a little cut…see?” You managed to crack a joke, weakly holding your bloodied hand up as you blinked and the tears flowed down your cheeks.
Steve huffed out a wobbly chuckle, shaking his head at you before kissing your lips, not minding the sting in his open wound, focused on the relief that you made it out alive. You kissed back passionately, not knowing what you’d do with yourself if you found out Steve or any of your friends were hurt badly, let alone killed in Star Court.
The sirens got closer, a helicopter radioing in from above you, causing you both to pull away and look up at the flashing lights with soldiers being airlifted down.
Everything was going to be ok.
“You’re going to tell me how you’re so good at saving my ass and killing, right?” He asked, diverting his eyes back to yours twinkling with a slight bit of tease.
“As long as you tell me everything about this Upside Down crap?” You replied, with a languid push on his chest not caring about the bloody stain you left on his Scoops uniform.
“Promise.” He nodded with a grin, pulling you in for another kiss that drowned out the sounds of the emergency personnel attempting to get to you both.
They just had no idea…you were for real, a tiger.
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: i'm back bitches!!! happy fall and im so sorry for keeping you all waiting since FOREVER! I hope you guys like this one and thanks for sticking around--it means the world to me 🥹💘✨
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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urgardenandmine · 4 months ago
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parker's lab buddy 🕷 - p. parker
hi y'all! this is my first like piece of work so i am extremely sorry if this is so shit but i hope it's good enough for y'all to at least read to past the time! hope y'all enjoy!
summary: peter parker is ready to start his senior year but will it be fun...? genre: fluff (ish?) pairing: m!reader x peter parker (the spider-man himself) word count: 1.4K
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today was a nice, brisk autumn day in the simple city queens of the great state of new york. the weather was a nice 57F, with the sky being somewhat checkered with clouds that casted nice shade for the student of midtown high. one student in particular was walking down the cluttered halls of midtown high, who himself was mr. peter parker. peter let out a blissful sigh as he was making his way towards his next class. looking around, he saw some noticeable faces. 
one face was his own right hand man, ned leeds. he was dressed in brown cargo pants and the usual muted navy blue colored hoodie his lola had gifted him last christmas. his bag was half open, but it went unnoticed as he was trying to talk to betty bryant, the head host of midtown’s broadcasting show. peter zoomed in, staring at betty’s facial expressions which did not look good whatsoever. 
rushing over, he stood behind the pair, listening in to his best friend somewhat ruin his chances with they blonde.
“and y’know- vader wasn’t really a bad guy! just heavily misunderstood!” he exclaimed, almost buzzing as he continued to ramble on his all-time favorite sci-fi movie. the blonde mindlessly nodded, snapping out of her trance as she saw the brunette make his way towards his friend. she smiled, waving at him causing ned to turn. 
“hi peter!” betty chirped, smiling at him as he returned it. she then pulled out her phone, opening her recording app as she aimed it towards the other’s mouth.
“my sources say you dropped from the school’s decathlon, why is that?” she interrogated, practically shoving her gray cased phone into his rosy lips. peter’s eyes darted towards his best friend, who sheepishly laughed as he avoided the secret hero’s gaze. 
peter chuckled, shrugging as he gripped his backpack straps, his head moving away from the phone. 
“w-well, y’know, i got a new job helping my aunt may so i kinda couldn’t really do all the things i do.” he answered, cheering himself in his head from his well-composed response.
“what things?” she pushed, raising her left eyebrow. the sudden new question made the “jumpy” teen freeze. by the change in his body language, the blonde smiled. 
as he was about to answer, the halls were filled with a piercing call that caused many students to immediately disperse. betty huffed, putting her phone away as she stared at peter and ned, who had exchanged a small glance before she leaned into ned’s face. the boy jumped, his face somewhat turning red as she eyed them both.
“i’ll figure you two out eventually.” she whispered, before turning on her heel to catch up to her other friends. 
peter let out a small sigh of relief, glad that his cover wasn’t blown. collecting his thoughts, he then turned his attention to his friend as he punched the other boy’s shoulder gently. he was still getting used to his powers after having to fight off about one petty thief last night. ned winced, rubbing his right shoulder looking at his friend.
“sources? sources, ned!” peter whisper yelled, looking around the hall to make sure they were in the clear. ned sputtered, shrugging as he gripped his soft green backpack straps. this seemed to be a habit the boys shared when they were caught. it was an easy tell for them both considering one was literally spider-man.
“i was just talking about star wars! then she was asking me on you and it slipped, promise. i would never betray my-” he looked around carefully, “superhero best friend.” ned whispered happily, nudging him. peter rolled his dark brown orbs, smirking as he nudged his friend back.
“come on, we’re gonna be late for physics.” he reminded the other, both making their way to their first class of the school year. as they made their way down the hallway, peter’s hair then stood on end on his neck. his spidey sense began to tingle, alerting him to a new ‘danger” or “disturbance” in the force. looking behind him, peter saw a student he’s never seen before. as he eyed him, peter’s senses began to almost deafen him. shaking himself out of his own head, peter made his way to class with ned with one thought in his head…
was he really gonna have to fight on his first day of school?
⋆。°✩
as the two walked into the lab classroom, the two took a deep breath and smiled at one another. the smell of chemicals, the sights of beakers and more practically excited the two. the two saw empty tables in the back, both making a beeline towards the back.
ned made his way inside, sitting on the left side. as peter was about to slip off his backpack, his good ‘ol buddy flash thompson immediately sat himself down onto the stool, setting his checker backpack onto the floor at his feet. peter stood there dazed, looking at his friend as thompson looked up at him. he stared at him, coughing into his fist as he chuckled.
“uh, parker? i know i’m great but you can’t copy me the first day of school.” he said, chuckling at flash’s own friend who was behind ned’s seat. flash exchanged a look with ned, who was left a bit in shock but not really surprised. behind ned, a small cough was let out. turning back, he made eye contact with a burly teen, who nodded his head to the left. ned nodded, slowly removing himself from the stool. ned and peter stood a bit annoyed, yet again, not really shocked that he would pull this on the first day of school. 
the bell rang again, signaling that class was in session. the class teacher, mr. roger harrington looked at the two and only standing boys.
“uh, boys? if you wouldn’t mind taking a seat?” he hinted, both aiming at the empty seats in class. the two nodded, both now somewhat embarrassed that their first day is now off to a great start. in the middle of the class, there was an empty seat one closer to the board, next to one student and in the back, there was an empty table. peter slowly made his way to the back table, not looking back. sitting down, he had seen that ned has made his way to the other table, accidentally separating the two. mr. harrington clapped his hands, smiling at all his students as he was ready to begin his lesson.
ned’s hand shot up, hoping to ask to sit next to his partner in crime, yet mr. harrington eyed him as he let out a soft sigh.
“now ned, you know once i start my lesson, i can’t stop for anything other than necessary questions and bathroom breaks.” he reminded him, causing ned to drop his hand. the tan boy looked behind his shoulder at the other, mouthing a small “sorry” as he smiled at him. peter shook his head, chuckling as he sat in the back and took out his notebook. looking down into his bag, his hair began to stand on end again. peter’s spidey senses shot into overdrive, making him shoot his head up. the oak door creaked opened and soon walked in the school principal. trailing behind was the same boy from earlier, with a black book bag on one shoulder. 
“oh! principal morita! what a pleasure it is to see you! happy first day of school!” mr. roger’s chirped. the principal smiled, waving “hi” to the students as he had one hand placed on his hip. stepping towards mr. harrington, morita had whispered softly about a new “transfer student.” 
the boy stood nearby the door, eyeing the two adults. while he was eyeing them, peter had his eyes on him. 
the other teenage boy seemed more calm than nervous. most kids would be at least somewhat jittery or shy, but not him. he didn’t budge at all. peter took in everything.
he noticed the boy’s skin color, the way his eye color had somewhat lightened due to the sunlight and fluorescent lights of the room. he also made a mental note on the boy’s hair color and his height. 
as he continued to stare and zone out, he was snapped out of it when he heard…
“why don’t you sit next to peter. peter, raise your hand please.” mr. harrington announced, causing the teenage hero to shake his head. peter turned red, seeing everyone’s eyes on him as he slowly raised his hand. the teacher extended his arm in parker’s direction, smiling at the new student as he trudged down the aisle. 
removing his book bag, he sat down on the stool. peter was practically laser focused on him, his hair still on end. his gut was telling him something was wrong.
sitting up right after retrieving his pencil pouch and notebook, the boy turned to the other and smiled softly. extending one hand to him, he spoke gently.
“nice to meet you peter, i’m [y/n].” 
peter didn’t smile, but darted between the hand that was towards him and his eyes. peter’s brain began to run a million scenarios in his hand and only one thought…
i guess he was going to fight on his first day of school.
⋆。°✩
hope it was a good read! the spider man i went off of was the one you see above so everything written towards him in this piece is basically things i can get off of the actor.
i guess this is like a part by part story? i didn't wanna make it too long for my first one TT
if y'all notice any like weird continuity issues, i deeply apologize because this one takes place during the time of the first movie/vulture era and i barely remember the plot of it so i did my best
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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago
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Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty eight : a place for us
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 8.4k
summary : the not so secret happily ever after.
warnings: language, fluff, mild angst, pregnancy, smut, din has a lot of insecurities, they're having a couple of problems but the biggest one is lack of communication, breeding kink, pregnancy sex, oral f!recieving, p in v sex, masturbation, creampie, come eating, din comes really fast but it's sweet, nongraphic childbirth, domestic bliss, ro making things up about star wars lore
a/n: this is it my loves, i truly hope that this is the ending people wanted. i'm extremely happy with it and i'm extremely emotional so im gonna go sit down lmao.
You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 
Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. 
You haven’t had sex. 
Not since everything happened. 
You’ve tried, a few times but it never seemed right, you always asked if you could stop, opting to just lay together instead. You were making yourself sick with worry that he was unsatisfied so you took a day off from the meetings and the royal duties to just stay in the cabin and watch him work. 
You just want to do something nice for him. 
He does everything. 
He cooks your meals, he rubs your feet, he spends his entire day working, he’s nearly tripling the cabin in size, and he does it all on one leg. 
Well, not technically on one leg, he has the prosthetic but still. He hobbles with no complaints around the house and all you do is sit all day in the castle, talking. 
So you try. All day. 
Until the two of you are getting ready for bed.  
“Come on. Seriously, I'm fine.” You put your hands on his shoulders as he got into bed beside you. 
“Stop trying to seduce me.” He kisses your temple, rolling you onto your side as he fills in the space behind you. “You don’t need to force it.” He lifts his bottom half onto the bed, carefully removing the steel leg, setting it onto the floor next to him. One of the only pieces of his Mandalorian days he chose to keep. He had all of his armor melted down, save for his helmet, some of it was forged into a new leg, but the majority was given to the foundlings. 
“I’m serious! I’m in the mood.” You aren’t and he knows it, so any efforts to roll over and face him are stopped as he wraps his arms around you, one hand resting protectively over your stomach. 
“You’re not.” 
“I’m desperate for it.” You whine loudly but he only laughs, his nose bumping against the back of your neck. 
“Go to sleep.” You can hear the grin in his voice. 
You wait a moment in the silence.
“Are you sure?” You start trying to turn again. 
“I swear to the Maker-”
“Okay! Sorry!” 
Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was just everything that had happened. But during your first trimester no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t seem to find the energy to be physical with him. It was as if your libido vanished entirely. You tried several times but he always just kissed your forehead and told you to relax. 
“You’ve given me everything I have ever wanted, I need nothing else from you.” He laughs against your spine as he kisses you there. 
“You’re sure?” 
“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m fine?” 
“Let me take care of you…” You whine, trying to push back against him as he holds you in place.
“Stop worrying about me.” He continues to chuckle, hot against your skin as he kisses your cheek before pulling the quilt up over you both, it only takes a few minutes for him to start snoring behind you. 
You want to completely disassemble the monarchy.
Din wants you to be as relaxed as possible during your pregnancy. 
Neither one of you has been getting what you want. Turns out being queen doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, there are limits, limits that have you arguing with your dearly departed husband's family most days. 
You spend the better part of the next month in and out of the throne room, looking down at the table Kodo’s family set up below the throne. You argue over everything, you want to destroy everything that they stand for and obviously they don’t agree. 
So you have to compromise. 
At the end of the day it ends up being better than nothing. 
The royal family no longer has any political power over Naboo citizens, but they get to keep their titles, including your own. They’re ceremonial now. 
The royal family can no longer collect taxes from the people but they get to keep all their funds currently in the vaults. 
The people get to vote in new leaders but the royal family gets to have automatic representation on the council. 
It’s a give and take but when you finally get a chance to walk through the city with Din the people look happy and you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the little changes. The little smiles you see every now and then, the way people stop to talk to each other, the way people look at you. 
It’s different.
It’s happier, it feels safer. 
It makes spending your first trimester with the Harand’s completely worth it. 
And it’s a good thing you came to an agreement and got everything sorted out when you did because you don’t want to get out of bed most days during your second trimester. 
You feel great, no more nausea and your energies even up. 
You’re just so kriffing horny. 
Morning, noon, and night. 
Din’s finished the added rooms in the cabin so you’re both tasked with getting everything in order in your own room and in the nursery but you don’t let him get much done. 
If you had any worries about leaving him unsatisfied those first few months they’re gone after the first week of your second trimester, you’re more than making up for it. You’re actually worried about him keeping up with you. 
Of course having a bed you love helps. It was the first thing Din made when he started working on the cabin. A bed that wasn’t too big but fit you both perfectly, and you make sure to put it to good use. 
It came on suddenly in the last week of your first trimester. 
You had woken up early one morning craving something you hadn’t wanted in quite some time. So you rolled over, tracing a finger along his bare chest until his eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching as he gave you a sleepy smile. 
“Morning.” His voice in the mornings always reminded you of how he used to sound through the modulator, low and raspy. 
“Good morning.” You whispered back, letting your hand drag down his stomach until he stopped you, kissing your forehead, you shuffled towards him, feeling his cock hardening against your hip. You furrow your brow in confusion as he starts getting up. “Is something wrong?”
“You don’t need to force it for my sake.” You know he isn’t upset, he’s never voiced concerns about your sex life but he’s convinced himself that you just don’t have a sex drive right now. When in reality you’ve woken up almost painfully needy. 
“Din-“ You start, reaching towards him. 
“Sarad.” He took your hand in his as he situated his leg. 
“Do you still want me?” You won’t be upset if he says no, after all you haven’t wanted him very much recently. 
“Always. But I’m not gonna let you pretend for my sake. Your hormones are different now, maybe after the baby is born you’ll feel a little different, if not, I’ll still be sleeping here next to you every single night. Nothing’s gonna change that.” 
“But-“
“I’m gonna take a shower.” He kissed your hand and left the room, leaving you hot between your thighs and suddenly worried that he’d never believe you were ready. 
You had brushed him off and been clearly uncomfortable often enough now that he had resigned himself to making no more attempts. 
He took a lot of showers. 
And you could pretend you didn’t hear him groaning your name through the door but it still sent a pang of guilt through you that no amount of reassurance could change. 
You hear the water turn on as you lay back in bed with a frustrated sigh. 
You have the galaxy's most devoted husband, you could tell him you never wanted to touch him again and he’d never ask why. He’d simply love you from a little further away, and you love him with all of your heart for that but in that moment you just wanted to be fucked. 
So you rolled over and stuck your hand in your nightstand drawer, searching for the cold metal of the vibrator you’d bought ages ago. When you finally found it you experimentally tested the buttons, grinning when you realized it still worked. You set up some pillows against the headboard to lean against them, bending your legs at the knee as you reach under your nightgown, finding your thighs sticky, your panties doing nothing to contain the arousal coursing through you. 
For a second you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to do it but the moment you switch on the toy it’s like riding a bike. The motions, the patterns, all of it comes rushing back and in just a few shakey breathes you're already on edge. 
You can hear him over the buzzing, you hear a few thuds, closing your eyes you imagine him on the other side of the wall. 
Without his helmet.
You haven’t been able to think about him like that since he abandoned his creed, now it’s all you can think about. 
His hand up against the tile, steadying him. The other wrapped around that pretty cock of his. You turn up the vibrator as you picture the water cascading down his skin, making his curls straighten out as he pulls back his foreskin, his pretty pink tip’s probably leaking down his shaft. 
“Din-” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the grunt you can hear faintly followed by the strained sound of your name. Your stomach tightens. His eyes are probably squeezed tightly shut, creasing in the corners as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “Din, please.”
“Kriff.” He hisses out loud enough for you to hear clear as day. 
You hear him stifle a moan, is he biting his own hand? You decide it’s for the best that you do that now as well, covering your mouth with your palm. You chase the tightening in your stomach, dipping the toy into the wetness pooling at your entrance and back up to your clit. You’re so focused on getting off that it barely even registers when the water turns off in the other room.
“Fuck-” You whine softly, turning it up one more setting.
You open your eyes when the door creaks open, Din stepping back into the bedroom with a towel held loosely around his waist. You squeeze your thighs together, your eyes watering as a gasp is forced out of your stomach, your body convulsing briefly. 
Maker, you’re more pent up than you thought. 
You wet your lips with your tongue as his grip on the towel tightens, his eyes go wider than you’ve ever seen them and he coughs. 
“M’gonna go make breakfast.” He manages to mumble out as the tips of his ears burn up, he gets dressed rather hastily before rushing out of the room.
When you go to the dresser to find something to wear you pick something that rides up on your stomach. You don’t really have a bump yet, Din insists that he can tell, often kissing you just above your belly button when he does but you don’t really notice a difference. 
You meander out into the kitchen, already having to yank down the front of your top. 
Maker, maybe you are showing. 
You innocently look through the conservator as he sets the table, frowning as he pouts himself a mug of caf. You’ve been wanting some for weeks but he won’t let you have so much as a sip. 
“I think I’m gonna make some cinnamon rolls tonight.” You sit down at the table as he sets a plate of buttered bread with meat and eggs. 
“That sounds lovely.” He kisses the top of your head, bringing you a glass of juice and a few vitamins before sitting beside you. “Do you need me to go into the city and get anything for you?”
“No, I think I’ve got everything I need. What are you doing today?” 
“House work. I need to fix a few things and install the heaters, it’s gonna be cold when the baby gets here.” You’re rather excited for winter, you haven’t seen snow since you left Hoth. It’s already started to chill outside. Naboo has long autumns and you aren’t due until the winter. 
“Do you need any help with that?” You ask as you take a bite of the rich dense bread, already knowing the answer. 
“No, you just relax today.”  Ever since you finished all your royal business Din hasn’t let you do any work around the house. 
“I got that package from Elaine a few days ago, I could finally unpack everything.” You nod towards the crate in the living room and he’s already shaking his head. 
“I can do that when I finish up the heat-“
“I can’t just sit around all day everyday.” You point your fork at him as he gives you an apologetic look. 
“You could if you wanted to.” He says hopefully before you flick a piece of sausage at him. He easily catches it out of the air, popping it into his mouth. 
“Oh and we should have sex tonight.” You try to say it as casually as possible but he immediately chokes on his food, coughing briefly before clearing his throat and taking a sip from his mug. 
“Mesh’la, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about that.” 
“It’s not for your sake, it’s for mine.” You’re not even halfway done with your breakfast as he takes his last bite. Quickly standing and rushing his dishes to the sink. 
“We’ll talk about it later, I gotta get started on some stuff.” He’s walking around you carefully, avoiding your angry glare as he makes a hasty escape towards the third bedroom. 
“If you don’t listen to me I’m not letting you pick the middle name!” You yell after him but all you get in return is a muffled chuckle. 
You finish your breakfast, taking your time as you chew, feeling rather frustrated despite the orgasm you already gave yourself less than an hour ago. 
The third room is currently your makeshift laundry room, you keep anything that doesn’t have a proper place in there. Currently Din is fixing the window in there so you take it upon yourself to do a load of laundry. You empty the washer, filling it again as you turn on both machines. 
“Mind if I watch you for a bit?” You smile at him as he nods, wiping a bead of sweat from his hairline. You take the opportunity to hop up on the dryer when he turns back to his work. 
You close your eyes, letting your head roll to the side a bit as you lean forward. You smile to yourself, a wave of deja vu washes over you as you think of everytime you’ve teased him prior. You get lost in the memory of the two of you in the library, you briefly forget your goal entirely as you rock yourself back and forth, humming softly to yourself. 
Your thoughts eventually drift to how he had touched you that night and when you finally come to your senses your face is hot as your fingers grip your thighs. When you look at din he’s staring at you slack jawed.
He clears his throat, his face going red as he quickly goes back to work, finishing up quickly before getting ready to leave. 
“Help me down?” You hold your arms out to him and you swear he gulps as he steps over the laundry basket to grab you under your arms, setting you down. 
“All good?” His voice is strained as he watches you nod. 
“Perfect.” 
Except it isn’t perfect. 
The bastard remained unconvinced. 
And you remain frustrated out of your mind. 
He takes a break after installing the heating system, when he sits on the sofa, sipping a glass of water you take it upon yourself to finally go through the baby clothes Elaine sent you. The large crate is marked with a calligraphed L&E. You carefully break open the top, opening the envelope placed on top of the many fabrics. You can’t help but smile when you see who it’s addressed to. 
Princess,
Is it still princess? ‘Queen’ seems like a bit much, although you should have seen the High Magistrates' face when we told him the Mandalorian married royalty. 
He wants to visit when the little one is born but unfortunately we won’t be joining him. Elaine’s a bit sensitive to the cold but we’ll see you when it warms up. She’s terribly excited to be a godmother, even if she doesn’t show it. When Din told her the sex she started sewing immediately. Took two weeks for her to make all this, you can expect more soon. She can’t seem to help herself, our house is full of tiny socks and hats. 
The shop’s doing well. Karga alone buys enough clothes to keep us in business but things are good. I still don’t know how Elaine sews as much as she does or as well as she does but she hasn’t slowed down since we moved. 
She misses you, even if she acts all tough about it. I miss you too, we’ll visit as soon as it’s spring. 
Send pictures of the nursery when it’s finished. 
Love, Lysa 
You look down at the contents and are taken aback at the sheer amount of baby clothes you’re faced with. You grab the first thing that catches your eye, little green overalls. 
“Oh my gods.” You hold them up for him to see. Din’s gaze goes soft as he stares at the fabric. He slides off the sofa to sit on the floor beside you, taking them as you begin looking through the rest of the clothes. 
“Are you sure he’s gonna fit in these? They look small.” He holds the overalls in front of his face as you fish out a handful of striped socks. 
“That’s how big newborns are, my love. He’s gonna be small.” You unfold a large patchwork quilt, marveling at the craftsman ship as Din gives you a skeptical look. 
“These are just so… tiny.” You laugh a bit at the sudden anxiety in his voice. 
“I thought Grogu was a baby? You should know how small babies are, how old was he when you found him?”
“Fifty.” You shove his arm. 
“Funny.” You stop laughing the second you find a little gray hat with black yarn patterns. “Maker, you’re gonna die when you see this.” You flip it around in your hands, showing him the mock design of his helmet, the thin cross of his visor. 
“No kriffing way.” He takes it from you as you fight off a grin. 
When you’ve finished going through everything Din packs it all back up, taking it to the nursery as you bake, simultaneously trying to think of different ways to seduce your riduur. 
You shoo him away when he tries to help, eventually he settles on sitting on the couch. Reading from where he can see you. 
You’re strongly considering just getting “stuck” in the washer and calling him to help you, you’re pretty sure you saw that in a holo at one point. 
By the time you finish baking you still have nothing, taking them out of the oven and icing them before placing one on a plate and making your way over to him. You pull yourself up into his lap, gently taking his book and setting it down beside you. 
“Mesh’la.” He says in a stern tone, his voice wavers a bit as he struggles to keep his composure. 
“I thought you like my baking?” You pout and somehow he falls for it. 
Pregnancy has made him even more infatuated with you, if that’s even possible. He’s somehow more gentle with you than ever before. 
“Of course I do.” He mumbles sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You tear off a chunk of the pastry, something you’ve done before, and bring it to his lips.
“Open.” You say sternly and he immediately does, letting you feed him. If it’s possible for a man to be both extremely relaxed and extremely stressed out then that’s what Din currently is. 
You stay in his lap.
Feeding him until the plate is empty, he even licks your fingers clean and you’re so mesmerized by the plush softness of his mouth that you can’t help yourself.
You fall forward into him, and he flinches. 
He never flinches. 
You immediately back up, crawling off his lap as you give him a look of concern, trying to figure out if you’ve hurt him. 
“I’m- I’m sorry.” He swallows, avoiding eye contact. 
“Don’t be sorry.” You whisper it, leaning forward, resting your head on his shoulder, he takes your hand in yours. 
“I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.” 
“Why are you so insistent that I don’t want you?” You finally just tear the band aid off. 
Silence.
Briefly, you know he’s deciding if he should say it or not. 
“You stopped wanting to have sex when I took the helmet off.” He blurts out and you nearly fall off the couch at the absurdity of his reasoning. 
“Din that has noth-“
“And it’s fine. There’s no reason for you to pretend to be attracted to me just for the sake of my ego. You can love me without loving,” He gestures at himself. “this.”
It makes you want to cry. 
To think that he thought you were withholding your affections because you didn’t like how he looked. It makes you even more upset to know that he was okay with that, he was willing to live a life believing that to be true and simply never touch you like that again. 
“Look, I still have the helmet, we’re going to make this work.” He whispers. His leg bounces up and down until he suddenly stands. “Give me a minute?” He’s already headed for the door. You sit there, a little stunned.
You decide to give him space, you can talk when he comes to bed. You dress in a thin brown camisole and green panties, you try to make yourself look nice, hoping maybe he’ll relax at the sight of it but based on the look he gives you when he comes into the bedroom you’re a little worried it’s having the opposite effect. 
“I love you and-” You start but he just collapses into bed next to you.
“Please- mesh’la I can’t, this torment is unbearable.” His hands clutch the fabric of your clothes, his fingers trembling. “You’re making this extremely difficult for me.” He’s downright flushed as he pleads with you. 
“I won’t stop until you believe me.” You insist further as he sinks his eyes into you, his pupils swollen and frantically searching your face as he swallows loudly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful to me. It had nothing to do with you, I just- I needed a little time after everything.” You whisper sharply, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “I’ve been waiting to wake up. I keep thinking you’re gonna disappear and I’m going to lose you all over again and none of that is your fault.” The room is quiet aside from your combined breathing. 
“Are you sure? Really sure?” He’s speaking so quietly you barely hear him as his fingertips ghost the exposed skin under the bunched up fabric of your top. 
“Look, I’m not going to force you to touch me, but I don’t know how else to get my point across and if you really want me to stop all of this then I will-“
“Don’t stop.” He whispers, barely audibly as his hands hold your face, lips pressed to yours. Your head falls back into the pillows as his mouth immediately makes a beeline south, kissing your sternum, you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back up. “Please- I wanna taste-” He downright whines as you pull his bottom lip between your teeth.
“After.” You pant into his mouth. “I can’t wait, I need you.” 
You do, terribly. 
You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers push your panties to the side in an instant, his mouth falls open in a silent moan as he feels the wetness there. He eases a finger into you as you whine impatiently. “I don’t wanna wait-” You reach down to grab at his wrist but he just kisses you again to silence you.
“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbles, he listens to an extent, pushing in a second finger. The stretch is delicious. You feel like your skin is on fire as you try to push yourself further onto his hand. 
“I don’t care, please Din I need you so bad. I need your cock.” Your brain is foggy, you're so turned on right now, you’d do anything to feel him inside you. 
He nods, shoving his trousers down and pulling his shirt up over his head as you squirm out of your own clothing. Almost immediately he looks overwhelmed, his eyes don’t know where to settle as they make their way down your body. Finally he swallows, taking his cock in hand, tip pink and pretty as he strokes himself so you can see how he’s already leaking, just for you. 
He eases himself into you, slow and steady as you try to stay still. It’s all too much, his thick length pressing deeper and deeper into you until you’re both gasping, forehead to forehead with him fully seated within your heat. 
“Okay?” He manages to spit the words out despite the way his chest heaves as you nod. 
“Din fuck me please I can take it.” You plead with him, he looks skeptical so you rock your own hips, it isn’t much but it’s enough to make your eyes roll back as you nudge him deeper. 
“Look at me.” He whispers as you blink, trying to focus on the warmth in his eyes as he searches your expression for pain. 
“You’re so pretty.” You mumble out. He looks a little surprised by the sentiment, his tongue poking out between his lips as he looks at you. 
Has anyone ever told him that? 
“Thank you.” Is the last thing he says before slamming his hips forwards, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix. His thrusts are erratic and needy as he watches your face intently. He’s so worked up and it’s been so long and the combination of it all has him practically whimpering against you within minutes.
“I can’t- I- It-” He begins to stammer, his lips are wet and swollen, his eyes fight to stay open, pupils darting everywhere like he’s trying to take in as much as he possibly can as his cock pulses inside you. 
You want him to come. You want to watch him, watch his face, as he finishes. You want to see him hot and desperate just for you, you want to know that you made him feel this good after just a few minutes. 
“I wanna see, please, please Din.” You lay back, gasping with every stutter of his hips, taking in the sight as he squeezes his eyes shut. 
“I- I- kriff, love you so much.” He hisses out as his hands fist the sheets. The veins in his neck stick out as his mouth falls open, an obscene moan is ripped from him as he rocks his hips forward one last time, you can see where the two of you are connected. His cum spilling out around his length, forced out by the sheer girth of him. His breathing is staggered as he slumps forward, kissing you with a fire that you didn’t realize you missed so much.
He doesn’t kiss you nearly as much as you want before his mouth is already moving down your body, any complaints you have never make it past your lips. It feels too good when he touches you like this.
He squishes the bridge of his nose into your stomach, just below your belly button as he kisses the soft skin there. His mouth hasn’t even made its way between your legs yet and he’s moaning into your flesh, his fingers kneading the meat of your hips. 
He pushes your thighs wider apart and you swear you see him drool at the view he’s presented with. 
He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy, waiting for permission. You nod a little too quickly and he dives into you. His tongue immediately works its way into your still dripping hole, he’s everywhere, precise and deliberate as he pushes his own seed back into you. 
“So- fucking- good-” He mumbles to himself as if you aren’t even there before flattening his tongue against your clit, it’s enough to have your thighs closing around his head, the cool metal of his hearing aids stings your flesh as you come undone. Your vision goes white as you whine, high pitched and breathy. 
He doesn’t stop for a second, eating like you’re a goddamn buffet. When you catch a glimpse of his face his jaw is slick with a combination of the two of you. His eyes are dark as your head falls back, you want so desperately to watch but it’s too much, all you can do is whimper and grip his hair. 
He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves until you’re coming all over again. You collapse back into the pillows, already exhausted but smiling so hard your face hurts. He sits back on his ankles, lifting your legs as he kisses your calves. 
He’s perfect like this. 
Tan, scarred body on display to you in the warm lamp light. Skin covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes his hair curl and stick to his forehead. His eyes are dark as his tongue pokes out, swiping across his lips to taste the remnants of you, his cock stands proud against his stomach, already hard and aching for you once more. 
“Don’t relax just yet, I’m not done with you.” He mumbles into your tender flesh, hands grabbing your ankles as he yanks you forward, slotting himself between your legs again. 
It’s a good thing because you certainly aren’t done with him, you can’t get enough of him for the next six months. 
Further into your second trimester nothing’s changed. If anything you’re even more insatiable. If it was possible to get pregnant twice you’d have done it by now. 
You also make a point to kiss his face as much as humanly possible, you can’t help but wonder if anyone else ever has.
He likes it in a way you aren’t yet familiar with, he leans into your lips at every opportunity, eager to feel your mouth against the apples of his cheeks, the sensitive skin of his eyelids, the sharp angle of his nose, and the prickles of the stubble on his chin. 
And you are more than happy to indulge him. 
The third trimester wasn’t much better but you managed to better manage your time. You went on walks, even if they were short, you’d insist on walking around the gardens or the markets whenever you could. 
You didn’t think it was possible but somehow Din’s become even more protective. If he had things his way you’d sit in the cabin all day while he stared at you from a few inches to your left. 
With that sharp protectiveness has come a silence, it takes a few days for you to notice but you realize just how quiet he’s been. It’s subtle but you know something's off. Word’s become soft arm touches, he holds you a little tighter at night and he never asks if you need help anymore, he just does everything before you can even get to it. 
It’s seemingly a couple of things. 
You know something is bothering him but he’s become sort of shy. 
When you walk the markets he’s still viewed as a member of your staff but you don’t hide things anymore. You’ll feed him by hand if you buy a snack cake, you’ll hold his arm as you walk. He’ll even kiss your forehead if the opportunity arises.   
But he’s timid. 
And it isn’t until you’re visiting Vivian that you realize what it is. You had been telling her about how hard it’s been for you to decide on a shade of green for the nursery when he had hidden his face in your hair. You had entangled your fingers in his and thought of it as nothing more than an act of affection from him but it started happening more often. 
And then it clicked.
He only ever did it after being directly addressed, when people were looking at him. You finally brought it up one night when you’d been trying to get comfortable on the couch, your protruding stomach making it exceedingly difficult. 
You’ve got two talking points to cover, the sudden shyness, and getting to the bottom of his silence, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion as to what it’s about. 
You eventually settled with your head in his lap and your feet up on the arm rest, smiling up at him as he played with your hair. 
“You know you can wear the helmet when we go out if you want.” You finally blurt out as he gives you a confused look. 
“Why would I do that?” 
“Well I know that you still have it and you just seem a little… uncomfortable sometimes without it.”
“I thought you liked my face?” He says it with a teasing tone but it has you sitting up out of the position you struggled to find for so long.
“I love your face. But I also want you to be comfortable.” You press a long kiss into the coarse facial hair of his jaw, he’s been so busy with house work and you it’s gotten longer than you’ve ever seen or felt it. 
“I’m comfortable with you.” He turns his face, nudging his nose against your lips until you kiss him there as well. 
“I just noticed that you’ve been a little tense, especially during outings.” You tilt your head, giving him a lopsided smile as he stands, leaning down to cradle your face in his hands. 
“I’m just not used to it, cyare.” He stands, examining the space in the room. “I want to put a fireplace in before the baby comes.” He mumbles as he moves the loveseat, making space against the wall.
You seize the opportunity, might as well kill two birds with one stone. 
“Speaking of when the baby comes, I thought we were going to visit your little one at some point?” 
His shoulders stiffen up for just a moment before he shrugs.
“I guess I’ve just had other things on my mind, nerves about the baby.” He doesn’t look at you, instead he measures the space on the wall with his hands. 
“I thought you were excited to be a dad?”
“I am a dad, and I am excited.” He’s mumbling, he hasn’t talked about Grogu in ages and it’s making you worry. 
“You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not with me.” 
He turns and stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat. 
“I’m scared.” He sits back down beside you and you wrap your arms around him as best you can with your bump in the way.
“Of what?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m scared that the baby won’t like me, or that I’ll mess them up, or something like that.” It is so much easier to tell when he’s lying, now that you can see his face. You never would have thought his cheeks would get so rosy. 
He’s a natural with kids and he’s been more excited than you are for the baby, he even spends all his free time embroidering the baby’s name into their clothes. 
“Din.” You say sternly, pulling back to look at him.
He chews the inside of his cheek a bit. 
He whispers something but he’s so quiet you can’t hear him.
“Din, please.” You take his head in your hands and force him to look at you. 
“I’m scared that if we go to get Grogu he won’t want to come home with us.”
A pang of sorrow hits your heart. 
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Maybe he’s happy there, maybe he’s forgotten all about me.” He looks hurt in a way you’ve never seen him before, if you weren’t days away from your due date you’d get on a ship and take him to his boy right now. 
“He hasn’t forgotten about you.” You take his hand. 
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you. And I know that I’d never forget you.” He still looks unsure as you stare into those sad eyes of his. “We have to at least try, it would be better to know. This baby already loves you, that’s enough of an indicator to me that Grogu feels the same.”
“You have no proof that this baby already loves me.” He finally cracks a smile at what you’re implying.
“Come here.” You lay your head back down in his lap, making a second desperate attempt to get comfortable. You grab his hand, lifting the fabric of your top until your stomach is exposed, placing his large palm over the swell of your belly. “Talk to him.” 
“What am I supposed to say?” He’s looking at you like you’re insane but you just shrug.
“You talk to him all the time.”
“Yeah but you never put me on the spot like this.” With his freehand he rubs the back of his neck. 
“Just do it.” He takes a deep breath, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. 
“Hello ik’aad.” He says softly, looking up at you for approval as you nod. “I’m excited to meet you soon, little one.” You watch as the taut skin moves ever so slightly, a little kick against Din’s fingers. His eyes go wide as he sits there a little stunned, you put your hand over his. 
“He does this most of the time when you talk to him. He likes your voice.”
“What else should I tell him about?”
“Anything.” 
He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle before he smiles at your bump.
“We painted your crib today, we decided to leave the walls alone but we wanted something to be green.” He carries on excitedly as you continue to feel the little flutters within you. “And- and someday you’re going to share a room with your brother.” You smile as your little one reacts to his fathers voice, you sit up, facing him.
“No more worrying. And if you’re going to worry then I want you to tell me.” You kiss as much of his face as you can. “Okay? Do this for me, please?”
“Okay.” He nods as you give him one last kiss on the lips. 
You move to sit between his legs like you used to in the nook, you find yourself a book as he puts his hands back on your bump while you read. 
He spends the rest of the night talking to your stomach. 
Arin Kuiil Djarin (Harand) was born with a full head of hair. Dark, messy curls that you could make out even through your tears when he came into this world. 
The future monarch. (A ceremonial position.) 
A screaming ball of tears in your arms, crowned king from birth. A boy everyone knew as the only son of the recently departed Kodo Harand. 
Your “royal advisor and personal guard” was beside you the entire time. Holding your hand and kissing your sweat slicked forehead as he whispered to you, telling you just how strong you were. It was one hell of a night but when the morning came suddenly you were parents to a strong, loud little boy.
Din held him first, after he cut the umbilical cord the doctor handed him to him. You watched as he cradled the tiny crying baby in his arms, shushing him softly as he rocked him. It took only a few whispers from his father before Arin calmed down, gasping faintly as Din slid into the bed next to you. You laid your head against his arm, unable to tear your eyes off of the tiny miracle.  
“Do you wanna hold him?” Din’s voice cracks as he continues to stare at him. 
You nod, a little scared about how small he is but you hold your hands out regardless as he carefully transfers him into the crook of your arm. You’re holding your breath as you look down at him. 
When he’s safe in your arms he finally opens his eyes. 
He is just a little copy of your riduur. 
Dark curious eyes scanning your face as you burst into another wave of tears.
“He’s perfect.” 
“He’s perfect.”
You both whisper at the same time, laughing softly. You hold him tightly, Din’s arms wrapped protectively around both of you. 
Your entire universe in one little medcenter bed.
You go on a lot of walks.
It helps you get out of the house and people love to see Arin. Din wears a baby carrier Elaine made with the little one strapped to his chest while you hold his hand. Everyone loves to see the little king, telling you that he’s such a good baby.
People often say he looks just like his father, you always laugh and smile at your brown haired boy.
He really does.  
He acts just like his father too. Even as a baby you can see his personality shining through. He likes to fight you on a lot of things, mostly vegetables and wearing his socks, but he loves you endlessly, your little mama’s boy. You never thought you’d see the adoration from Din’s eyes in someone else's but here he is, smiling up at you like you’re the sun, just like Din.
Your son was one year old when you met your second son. (Technically your eldest.)
You had urged Din to go to him sooner but he always found excuses, finally he told you he wanted to wait until Arin was a little older. On his first birthday you finally convinced him, and your family took a trip to a planet called Ossus. 
And you met a little boy who you loved as a son from the moment you met him. 
He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting but the moment he saw Din you recognized the look in his eyes as the same look Arin gives him first thing in the morning. And from that moment on you knew he was yours. 
You couldn’t ask for sweeter boys in your life. 
You finally found your peace.
Your freedom. 
Things are a little different now but you never find a reason to be upset about it. You just learn to live with it. 
Sometimes Din has to cut up any fruits or vegetables you’re preparing for dinner because the wet slicing sound makes your heart race. 
You sleep with a lamp on because Din trembles when a room goes completely dark, when he asks why you don’t turn it off you tell him you just like having it on because you know he’ll never tell you just how afraid he was when he was trapped beneath the stone and earth. 
You wrap him in blankets when winter comes and cradle his head against your chest, desperate to keep him warm. You see the vacant look in his eyes when a chill settles in his bones. The moment you see him shiver you bundle him up and drag him to bed, warming him with gentle and precise kisses until his eyes soften up again. 
Din always wakes you up if he’s leaving the room after you’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to the fresher or if he’s going to grab the baby and come right back. Because he knows that if he isn’t there when you wake up, you will freeze up in terror and cry softly to yourself until he returns. 
On stormy nights, when the wind blows a certain way that resembles a low wailing, Din will always find an excuse to send Lysa a transmission, asking how Elaine is doing. 
You learn to live with the little thing’s because sometimes you can’t heal completely, but you live regardless. You have reasons to endure. 
You endure for Din. 
You endure for Grogu. 
And you endure for Arin. 
Din always says he was born to love you.
You agree but that wasn’t all he was born for, he was born to be a father. 
Arin and Grogu taught you to be a mother, but Din was made for fatherhood. 
That’s what you think about, as you sit in the loveseat by the fire, book in hand. You aren’t actually reading it, you’re too busy watching the scene on the floor in front of you. Your sons peek out of the pillow fort they’ve built against the sofa, Arin covering his mouth as he holds in a giggle, staring at you with his wide brown eyes. You give him a small wave, watching as he darts back inside. 
“Are you staring at your mother, young man? Staring is very rude.” You hear Din’s voice from inside the fort, a large bump in the blanket roof where he sits. More giggles follow as he crawls back to the small entryway, you watch as he shrieks when Din drags him back into the fort, taking his place and mimicking the little boy as he stares at you.
He looks at you with a devotion that never wavers. 
“You’re my creed. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s all for you. For both of you.” 
He still tells you that often. Except now he says for all of you. 
He crawls out of the fort, his face red from exertion as he makes his way over to your chair, like he’s under some sort of spell that pulls him towards you.
“How are my girls, buir sarad?” Din’s out of breath as he grabs the armrests of the chair, caging you in as he kisses you. 
“Tired.” You grin at him as he kneels down in front of you, resting his forehead on the bump you’re cradling with your freehand. You set your book down on the end table next to you, content to watch as he knocks his nose against the strained fabric of your dress. 
“Sarad’ika.” He smiles, kissing the top of your stomach, you don’t mind losing your nickname to someone it suits more. “Let me put them to bed, I’ll be right back.” His lips turn up as he stands, looking down at the two boys with drooping eyes and mouths open in yawns.
“Go with your buir now my loves, I’ll come tuck you in in a minute.” You groan as you stand, Din scooping up both babies with ease. 
“Haav ca’nara.” Bed time. He whispers, carrying them towards the fresher, you hear the water run as he washes their little faces and brushes their teeth. 
You tidy up, folding blankets and rearranging pillows as you hear water splashing from the other room followed by a loud sigh. You stifle a laugh as you watch your boys running from the fresher down the hall towards their room, a soaking wet Din soon follows. You continue to clean, waiting until it gets quiet before making your way out of the room. You walk past the nursery, empty and waiting for its next occupant, towards the door with the faint glow of a night light. Peering in from the doorway you see all your boys in one room. 
Grogu and Arin lay in their respective beds, each is far too big for the small boys but they’ll grow into them. Grogu’s already asleep as Din kneels beside Arin’s bed, brushing a curl out of the little one's eyes. 
“Goodnight, ik’aad.” He leans down, kissing his son's face, earning a sleepy smile from the boy. 
“Night, buir.” He mumbles out, he doesn’t speak often, quiet like his father, but when he does it’s always clear. 
Din smiles, standing, kissing your cheek as he passes you, going out into the main room to lock up as you make your way to Grogu’s bedside, watching his eyes flutter as you press a kiss into his wrinkly green forehead. 
“Goodnight, my love.” You mumble before turning to Arin’s bed, sitting beside him as you watch him fight sleep, trying to keep his eyes open. “Sleep now my little love.” You murmur to him, kissing your fingertips before bringing them to his forehead. 
“Goodnight mama.” He yawns out as you watch him finally succumb to sleep. 
You leave the door open a crack, letting out another groan as you rub your stomach, Din waits for you in the dimly lit hall, holding out a hand which you happily take, letting him pull you into an embrace. 
“No more babies after this one, my back is killing me.” You give him a stern look as he brings both hands to your bump. 
“You have given me everything, I wouldn’t possibly ask for more.” He whispers. “Although I do think we could handle one more.” He raises his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but laugh.
“Fine, you carry the next one then.” You reach behind him, pushing open the door as you grab the collar of his tunic, pulling him into a kiss while you laugh against each other. 
“I love you.” He mumbles. 
“I love you too.” There is no hesitation. There hasn’t been for a long time. 
And you go to bed. 
In your perfectly sized bedroom. 
On your perfectly sized mattress. 
With your Din. 
a/n : this is technically the last chapter of bks <3 :,) epilouge in one week. q&a tomorrow so send your asks with questions. all my love to everyone whos read this far.
i no longer have a tag list !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates !!
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lemoncrushh · 1 month ago
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Mistletoe & Holly
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Summary: Harry finally reveals to his friend Holly how he feels about her on her birthday...which just happens to be Christmas.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 4833
A/N: As promised, this is one of my two holiday fics from the past. Originally written and posted in 2021. In Harry's POV.
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Holly’s birthday was the 25th of December. “Freaking Christmas Day”, as she'd put it when we'd become friends years ago.
"I was born on freaking Christmas Day, Harry! Like baby Jesus. Can you believe it?"
Her mum had been told she couldn't have children, but 'lo and behold one day after having a horrible upset stomach and a case of indigestion, she went to the doctor only to find out she was pregnant. Holly'd laughed about it then when she told me, making light of the fact that she'd been a miracle baby. I couldn't help but think she was indeed a miracle.
To say I'd had a crush on her would be an understatement. I reckon in those early days it was just a crush, as I followed her around like a dumb lovestruck puppy. But I didn’t really know what love was yet; I just thought she was pretty, and she was cool because she had the entire second floor of her parents’ house to herself. She sat behind me in class, and I’d let her copy off my papers, or she’d let me do the same, even though neither of us got the best marks.
It wasn’t until the second year that I realised my feelings for her were more than mere infatuation. She started dating…other guys…and I didn’t like it. Especially when she would tell me about them. I found myself jealous, and I didn’t like that either. I would sulk, wishing I could turn back the clock to when it was just her and me. But the truth was, there never had been a her and me. We were never a thing and were never gonna be. I’d missed my chance. I was in the friend zone.
Still, every year I would celebrate her birthday with her. I thought it was a shame that she had to share her birthday with the biggest holiday of the year, so we’d do it a week before, a tradition I came up with myself.
“You need to have your day, Holly,” I insisted. “A day that’s just for you.”
“Okay,” she agreed, giving me that grin she’d use when she was humouring me. “What do you suggest we do to celebrate?”
I shrugged. “I’ll think of something. Just leave it to me.”
That first year I’ll admit was a little lame. It was too late to plan a party, not that I would have known whom to invite anyway. I baked her a cake (okay, my mum helped me a little), and I brought it to her house. The look on her face when she’d opened the door was totally worth it. She beamed at me with her big eyes and lovely crooked-tooth smile, and I could have kissed her had I not been holding that massive cake in my hands. Okay, maybe not.
We sat on the floor with our backs against the sofa whilst we ate cake and watched Star Wars - her choice. Somewhere around the middle of the movie, I gave her my other gift, a stuffed bear wearing a beanie. Yes, I know, cheesy. But I was a kid. She kept it on her bed for a long time, so I guess she didn’t hate it.
The next year I was able to plan a party, and a lot of kids came. But the downside was that Holly had a semi-boyfriend, a prat named Duncan who kept trying to get her alone. I came close to getting him to eat one of the cookies I'd brought, knowing he was allergic to nuts, but Holly quickly slapped it out of his hand, giving me a look. I lied and told her I hadn’t known of his allergy, and spent the rest of the party in the kitchen with her mum and dad, claiming I had a headache.
That wasn't the last time I had to walk around with my tail between my legs. After the X-Factor and becoming part of One Direction, we continued to stay in touch. But I'd forgotten about my pact with Holly until it was almost too late, and the guys and I were making plans for Louis's birthday.
"You should come," I told Holly on the phone. "We'll make it a joint thing. A massive celebration."
“Are you sure?” she asked, and I could detect the tone of hesitation.
“Of course. It’ll be fun.”
The party itself had been fun, but what I had neglected to do was try to make it extra special for Holly, seeing as most everyone else was there for Louis. After my bandmate had blown out his candles, and we roasted him for a bit, I brought out the cake for Holly, a round one with white icing and holly and berries on the top. While she put on her best smile, I could tell she was disappointed that no one made a big deal, barely singing an encore of “Happy Birthday” as they stood digging their forks into Louis’s cake.
Each year, I tried to one-up myself, hoping I’d make her birthday more enjoyable than the last - or at least better than that one. I made it a point never to combine her day with Louis’s again as the entire idea was based on her having her own day.
A few years later, however, I did the worst thing I possibly could. Niall and I had gotten into the liquor before the festivities had started, long before Holly even arrived. To this day I don’t really know why I did it, but I blame it on the nerves. I’d had it in the back of my mind that I was finally going to tell Holly how I felt about her. She’d had another boyfriend earlier that year, Eric, and I’d hated him. I mean, gritting-my-teeth-every-time-he-appeared and keeping-my-hands-in-fists-in-case-he-breathed-wrong hated him. He was a dickhead and just...completely wrong for Holly. She deserved much better. She deserved to be with someone who treated her like a queen. She deserved to be with me.
So when she and Eric had broken up before Halloween, I was so relieved and elated, I wanted to throw her the best birthday party ever. I was going to tell her everything in my heart. And up to then, I hadn’t told a soul. 
That is, until Niall handed me a drink. I wasn’t sure what was in it, but it tasted amazing. The more I drank, the more I liked it. I was feeling pretty good, making jokes and having fun until I found myself telling Niall my plan. 
“Shit, good luck, mate,” he said, slapping me on the back. “Just...what if she turns you down?”
Before that moment, I hadn’t even considered that Holly wouldn’t love me back. I mean, certainly there was no guarantee that she would fall into my arms as soon as I confessed. She might have some reservations, even, what with us being such good friends and all. But what if she actually said she had no feelings for me at all and told me to get lost? Suddenly, I felt a sourness in my stomach, and not from the liquor.
To make matters worse, as if on cue, the door opened and in stepped Holly. For a second my face lit up, all doubts I’d just had a second earlier now dissolving at the sight of her in her black dress and red lipstick. Straightening my shirt, I stood back, waiting until her other friends gave her welcoming hugs to make my move.
And that’s when I saw him.
Fucking Eric was stood right behind her.
In less than two seconds, I strode across the room, my eyes shooting daggers at the wanker.
“Hey, Harry!” Holly beamed at me, but I barely noticed. “Looks like a great party.”
“What’s he doing here?” I growled, my hands in fists ready to take a punch if needed. Eric merely raised his eyebrows, as though he already knew he was unwelcome.
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind,” Holly said meekly. “I invited him.”
“You’re back together?”
Holly shrugged, a pink blush to her cheeks as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Maybe. We’ve been talking…”
Eric gave a grin so smug that I felt my arm swing back, but someone grabbed it. Turning my head, I saw Niall who shook his at me. Just then I heard a squeal to my left as another one of Holly’s friends ran up to greet the birthday girl. As they embraced, I suddenly felt the room close in on me, so I pushed through the crowd back to wherever Niall was keeping that good tasting concoction.
I don’t remember much else about that night except some girl whose name I’ve forgotten. Niall tells me I “played disciple”, following her wherever she went until she agreed to join me in a spare room. I’m not sure what I was doing, or how far I actually got with her, but apparently Holly walked in on us. She’s never told me what she saw, and I’m not sure if that’s more for her benefit or mine.
But yeah. Not my finest hour.
As the years went by, Holly and I remained friends, keeping in touch mostly through her private social media accounts, occasionally reaching out or getting together when our paths crossed. I heard of her new boyfriends, one I even met in person whom I considered to be a proper lad. Holly asked about my relationships as well, never sounding jealous or snarky, only supportive. I reckoned we’d both matured, particularly from my end. Eventually my romantic feelings for her evaporated to more of a warm, mutual understanding. Or at least that’s what I told myself.
This year, Holly decided to have her party at her place. She’d recently purchased her own place, her first “big girl flat” she called it, and was excited to show it off. She let me know that I needn’t plan anything, that she had it all under control.
Slamming the car door behind me, I looked up at her building, the windows and balcony trimmed in clear lights, a wreath decorating the center of the railing. I thought of all the previous Decembers I’d spent with Holly, celebrating her birthday, and suddenly felt a sense of loneliness. I hadn’t been dating anyone in what seemed like a long time as I tried to recall if she currently had a boyfriend.
The large, red, square box under my arm, I wiped my brow with the back of my other gloved hand, feeling the first fall of snow. Trudging up the steps, I rang the buzzer for Holly’s flat, an unmistakable smile twitching my lips when I heard her voice welcoming me in.
“Oh, I’ve missed you, my love,” she cooed softly into my ear as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I tried my best to keep my adolescent desires at bay as I innocently inhaled the scent of her perfume. “You need to come around more often.”
“And when’s the last time you came to see me, hmm?” I teased.
Her mouth in a straight line, Holly considered my comment. “You know, we can’t all afford to follow you around on tour for a year.”
“Have I been gone that long?”
“Longer,” Holly chided, taking my coat and setting my present on the credenza behind her, next to the other shiny wrapped gifts.
I chuckled. “Impossible. I saw you last birthday.”
“Fair enough. Just don’t make it a habit.”
“Too late, darling.”
I caught the gleam in Holly’s eye just before I felt a hand slap my shoulder, making me turn.
“Harry, lad! Wonderful to see you!”
“You as well, Richard, how are you?” I greeted Holly’s dad who guided me into the next room. My gaze searching for Holly, I caught her hanging my coat just before the doorbell rang again and Richard poured me a bourbon.
I sat in Holly’s living room, chatting with Richard and Megan, Holly’s mum, and few of Holly’s friends - some I’d known for years and some I’d just met. Holly, being the gracious hostess, greeted each person to arrive, so it was a while before she finally joined us. I noticed how she pushed her hair behind her right ear; I noticed how she sipped her cocktail; I noticed how she threw her head back laughing at something funny that was said. I noticed everything.
But more importantly, I noticed how no one had claimed the spot next to her, taking her hand or sliding their arm around her shoulder, chatting like she was their better half.
Holly was single. Just like me.
“Harry,” she suddenly addressed me as she rose from her chair with a smile, “let me show you the rest of the flat.”
Setting my glass on the table, I eagerly stood up. Then Holly surprised me by turning toward the other guests.
“You lot can sit tight and talk amongst yourselves for a bit, can’t you? I need some alone time with my old friend.”
“Of course, love!” Megan cheered, waving us away. “Take your time.”
With a smirk on my face and a thump in my chest, I began to follow Holly out of the room just in time to hear Richard’s remark that I was sure was not meant for me to hear.
“Old friend, my arse!” he quipped. “Girl’s been mad about him since-”
“Shhh!” Megan interrupted. “Quiet, Richard, they’ll hear you!”
“Harry, are you coming?” Holly’s voice called, making me realise I’d stopped just outside the doorway.
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“I’ll show you the kitchen last because it’s closest to the den,” she explained. “And that way we can circle back around.”
“Alright,” I nodded sheepishly as she stopped at the end of the hall with a smile. However, instead of gesturing toward the room ahead of her, she pointed at the lovely french doors beside where we stood.
“This is probably my favourite part of this flat,” she said wistfully. “It was the selling point for me.”
I knew the doors must open to the balcony I’d seen outside when I’d arrived before she grabbed the handles and pushed them open. A gust of wind blew in, causing her hair to lift and flow behind her, like she was Elsa in Frozen.
“Sorry,” she muttered, “I know it’s horribly frigid out there. I just wanted you to see.”
“It’s very lovely,” I grinned, stepping up next to her.
“I can’t wait to have morning tea out here,” she added, grabbing my arm. “But I’m afraid that will have to wait until spring.”
In what felt like slow motion, Holly squeezed my arm against her chest, and I felt the warmth of her even through my jumper. I couldn’t help but smile as she pressed her nose to my shoulder before releasing her hold and pulling the doors shut.
“Brrrr,” she shook. “Perhaps that was a bad idea.”
I chuckled as I followed her to the open doorway to our left.
“Toilet,” she confirmed with a shrug. “Nothing fancy. And this is my bedroom.”
The room at the end of the hall was open to reveal a large bed, decorated in loads of blankets and massive amounts of pillows, all in shades of blue and grey. As I stepped into the room, the familiar scent that I only associated with Holly filled my nostrils. Everything felt very serene, as though I’d been there before, and I never wanted to leave.
“I tried to make it as calming as possible,” I heard her speak behind me. “Like my own personal sanctuary.”
“I reckon you succeeded,” I nodded. “It’s beautiful, Holly.”
“Thanks,” she beamed. “Okay, now for the kitchen.”
Holly surprised me again by holding out her hand, which I took gratefully. Passing by the french doors again, I noticed something I hadn’t before - a small sprig of a plant hanging just above the doors.
“Hey, is that…” I pointed.
I caught the pink in Holly’s cheeks before she giggled and nodded. “Mistletoe. I just thought it was cute, and kinda funny.”
“Alright then,” I smirked, recalling Richard’s previous hushed words.
“Mum and Dad may want to use it later,” she shrugged before turning the corner where I swore I heard her murmur, “or someone else.”
Pulling me into the kitchen, she stopped only to emphatically announce her pleasure in having more counter space than she’d ever had in her life. I smiled at her animated enthusiasm, happy for her that she finally owned her own place.
As she gestured to the exit to the left, I followed her back into the living room where a resounding game of charades was being played. I laughed as I watched Holly’s friend Gina try her best to mime the clue whilst Richard called out absurd answers.
“It might be time for Dad to put down the bourbon,” I heard Holly chuckle to my left just before Megan called out the correct answer and the room cheered.
“Ah, the birthday girl’s returned!” announced another of Holly’s friends. “I say it’s time to open the gifts!”
I felt Holly’s hand push the back of my arm, guiding me to the party. I took the chair I’d sat in earlier, across from Holly’s as I awaited the presents ritual. I was suddenly reminded of what I’d gotten her when Richard and Megan brought in the gifts collected on the credenza, setting them at Holly’s feet. My ridiculous red box sat in the back of the pile, like a caboose of confession.
I considered that she might take it lightly and even joke about it, the way she probably would have had she had a significant other. I supposed that was my own initial idea when I’d made the purchases and put it together. But now...after seeing her again, and all the feelings flooding back...I knew I’d been kidding myself.
Now everyone was going to watch her open it and see the awkward reaction she was bound to have. Good one, Styles.
One by one, I sat in silence and watched Holly open each gift, all earning oohs and ahs. When she finally reached for mine, I knew I was doomed.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said to the entire room, though her eyes were focused on me. “I saved this one for last.”
I could feel the stares without shifting my eyes. Licking my lips, I awaited the inevitable. When she tore off the wrapping and lifted the lid to the box, however, I got a different reaction from what I’d expected. Instead of looking confused and awkward, Holly laughed gleefully, throwing a hand over her mouth just as she snorted. Though I tried my best to laugh along with her, I was extremely perplexed.
“Oh my God,” she shrieked, lifting the bouquet of mistletoe. “That’s so funny, Harry! How did you know?”
Giving a light-hearted shrug, I muttered, “Just thought it was cute and funny.”
Gina, sat to Holly’s left, took the mistletoe from her hands and lifted it above Holly’s head. “Alright, who’s ready to kiss the birthday girl?”
Feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment, I was glad when Gina took it upon herself to give Holly a kiss on the check. And even more relieved when Marcus, her friend sat to her right pointed at the box.
“Looks like there’s more, Hol,” he said.
As Gina claimed the mistletoe, Holly reached inside the box for the second item - a monogrammed photo album I’d had made especially for her.
“Oh this is lovely!” she breathed, setting the box on the floor to balance the album in her lap. “Oh and look! There’s mistletoe and holly on it. How clever, H!”
When she opened it, I saw how wide her eyes got, realising what was inside.
“This...this is all you and me.”
“All of your birthdays,” I confirmed, “at least since I’ve known you. Except for the one that I ruined. And few other...fun moments.”
I heard a few awws and a “that’s so lovely, Harry” from Megan, but all I could focus on was Holly as she scanned each and every photo.
“How did you...find all these?” she asked. As she lifted her head, I noticed the wetness in her eyes.
I shrugged. “Most of them I already had. I’ve just been...collecting them.”
“I had no idea we’d taken so many pictures,” she sniffed. “Thank you, Harry, this is really special.”
“You’re welcome,” I nodded, relieved that she hadn’t thought more of it than a mere gesture of friendship.
Shutting the book, Holly reached forward for the box, noticing one more thing was inside.
“Oh, there’s more?” she asked with raised brows.
At the bottom of the box was another smaller box. When Holly lifted the lid, she gasped.
When Holly and I were fourteen, I’d given her a friendship bracelet. She’d worn it every single day for two years until one day she’d gotten it soiled. That birthday, I’d given her a new one. Though she’d argued with me that she didn’t want to replace the original, she was ultimately happy that I had.
That birthday that I’d ruined - the one where I nearly punched Eric and fooled around with some girl I don’t remember - my gift had been a silver charm bracelet. My idea had been to tell her that it was to officially replace that friendship bracelet, which I knew was long gone. But I hadn’t gotten the chance to see her open it because I’d been drunk and preoccupied.
I’d never seen Holly wearing that bracelet, either.
This year…
“Wow, Harry, I…” she began, more tears forming in her eyes as she lifted the gold braided bracelet in her hand, “I dunno what to say. This is...way more than you’ve ever given me.”
“That’s so gorgeous,” oohed Gina as she leant over to see Holly slip it onto her wrist.
“It’s to...replace that old one,” I explained.
“Which one?” Holly asked.
“The one that I never got to give you,” I admitted. “The one that is probably tainted because I was such an asshole that night and got wasted at your party.”
“Oh,” Holly mouthed. I could see the recognition in her face. She knew exactly what I was referring to.
“I regret that night, terribly, love,” I added, pressing a hand to my chest.
“Oh my God, what happened?” inquired Gina.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” muttered Holly, closing the box and returning it to the floor.
“I ruined her birthday,” I said before I even realised what I was doing. “Because I couldn’t just admit to her how I felt about her.”
Jaws dropped all around the room as Holly stared at me.
“Good on ya, mate!” I heard Richard say. “I always suspected!”
“Richard!” Megan scoffed in a loud whisper.
“Well, I did!”
The room seemed to fall away as I saw Holly rise from her chair and sprint down the hall. It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected, but it wasn’t a surprising one. Hastily, I followed her, wondering what the bloody hell I was going to say next. Hopefully I hadn’t just ruined a second birthday.
I found her stood next to the balcony doors, her hands on the knobs like she was debating whether or not to open them. I cleared my throat to let her know I was there, as I heard her whimper.
“Holly,” I managed to say, my mouth as dry as a desert. “Are you...okay?”
I saw her shoulders drop before she nodded. “I’m fine.”
Stepping closer, I could tell she was wiping her eyes.
“You don’t seem fine. I made a fool of myself and humiliated you in the process. I’m so sorry, Holly.”
“No, Harry,” she said. “I’m the fool.”
Turning to face me, she threw up her hands. “I had no idea.”
“That’s my fault,” I admitted. “I’m shit at communication. And I was afraid of rejection.”
“Since when?”
“Since...forever.”
With a tiny, quiet laugh, Holly shook her head. “Me too.”
“What?”
“Not only am I shit at communication, Harry,” she confessed, “but I suck at giving hints apparently.”
“No, I suck at taking them,” I giggled. “‘Cause I don’t recall any hints that you felt...any way about me.”
“See?” she threw up her hands again. “God, Harry, can you even imagine the feeling of being gutted when you’re crushing on your best friend and you walk in on him getting head from some other girl?”
Her words were like a knife right through my heart as I slowly closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m so very sorry, Hol.”
“The worst of it was that I had only invited Eric to the party to make you jealous.”
“What?” I asked again, my eyes popping open in disbelief.
“I was convinced you would never like me back the way I wanted you to. So because I knew you hated Eric, I reckoned you might take more notice if I got back together with him.”
“Holly, what the fuck?” I ran my hand down my face.
“I know,” she muttered. “Not my proudest moment.”
“Can we just erase that night out of our lives?” I suggested.
With a tight smile, Holly looked down at her new bracelet, tracing the plaits. “Maybe.”
“So, what do we do now?” I inquired.
“I don’t know that either,” she admitted. “This was rather sudden. To be honest, Harry, I’d thought I’d gotten over you. And then you-”
Her words were interrupted by my sudden kiss. Soft and tender, it was a quick kiss, though I could feel her sigh against me.
“What was that for?” she breathed.
With a smirk, I raised my brows and pointed at the ceiling. “Mistletoe.”
“Oh.”
“You were saying?”
“I…” she began, a dreamy look in her eyes, “don’t remember.”
I pulled her into my arms then and kissed her with purpose, doing my best to replace all the time that we’d lost. I knew it would take years to even get close, but I was willing to try.
I felt Holly’s hand slide down my arm and grab my hand before she pulled back. With swollen lips and a look in her eyes I’d ever seen before, she led me toward her bedroom, closing the door behind us.
With only a lamp lighting the room, I joined her on the bed, kicking off my shoes. We made out like teenagers - as though the years had not made any difference in how we felt or what we wanted. The only real difference was that I was no longer afraid to let it be known.
My head spinning and my heart pounding, I suddenly felt Holly press a hand against my chest.
“Harry? Let’s not make this a bad fanfiction, okay?”
I chuckled in disbelief. “What?”
“You know, the friends-to-lovers trope, where we finally have sex and at the end, we just assume everything ended splendidly like a fairy tale.”
“Well, love, I was kinda hoping it will,” I stated honestly.
Holly tilted her head, her soft hair falling against the pillow and her shoulder, her expression both innocent and seductive. I had to bite my lip.
“I think you know what I mean.”
“Okay,” I grinned. “So how should it end, then?”
“Well…,” she sighed, the vibration against my chest causing me to take a breath. “It seems rather silly to say we should take it slow given that…”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“But how about we ease into it? See what happens.” She ran her delicate hands up my biceps, her suggestion nearly being blanketed by her touch.
“That seems like a good idea,” I agreed as I leant forward and kissed her inviting lips again. She hummed low as I separated our kiss, taking a moment before opening her eyes. Then grasping at a curl near my ear, her eyes danced as she wrapped it around her finger.
“How does one tell her best friend that she loves him?” she suddenly asked.
A wide grin spreading across my face, I let my fingers trace the side of her beautiful face.
“I reckon you just did, my love.”
I kissed her deeply then, her fingers tangling tighter in my hair. Mistletoe or not, I knew in that moment that I could continue to kiss her forever, if she let me. When I felt her leg slide against my hip, however, and she gasped against my mouth, I knew we should return to our original vow.
“We should probably get back to the party,” I admitted.
“Hmm, yeah,” Holly nodded with a sigh. “Let’s do that before my dad calls out a search crew.”
I laughed against her neck, feeling her giggle rise from her throat. Giving it a few more pecks, I finally lifted my head to look at her pretty, glowing face.
“Happy Birthday, Holly.”
“Happy Christmas, Harry.”
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muscle-red · 7 months ago
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* ꒰ HIS HIGHNESS ꒱ •
* Warnings: amab body, Draconia reader, Reader’s Point of View, Reader kinda an OC, unprotected sex, chest play, overstimulation, blowjobs, edging, cum swallowing, Lilia’s a bottom, General Lilia mentioned.
*Word Count: 931
┆ Lilia Vanrouge x Male Draconia Reader ┆
+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Pale as a porcelain doll, Hair as dark as night, Eyes that shine brighter than any ruby. That was the beauty of Lilia Vanrouge.
Here was the fearless General of Briar Valley. Lying down, tied up, ready to take his king’s order.
His Cock was hard and pulsing. It clashed between the two male’s stomach’s. He could’ve easily broken the Ties that Are around his Wrists and eyes already but the thought of This turned him on tremendously as shown between his obvious arousal. The second he felt the tip in, he couldn’t help but Break out in a moan. His whole body twitched in pleasure as his Hole tighten around the length of the cock opening up his insides.
“I- H-Hold on a second! Ngh~ ahh Too fast!”
His eyes rolled back and he couldn’t help but close his eyes within his bind in bliss.
He was always stuck onto one (or two) person and too busy with the war to pleasure himself much less engage in sexual activities so all of this was new to him and his body.
You bit his shoulder every time he made a sound as you thrusted into him. It left a pretty mark on his pale complexion. Your fangs seemed to have broke his skin which caused blood but he didn’t seem to mind and even moaned in encouragement especially combined with the pleasure of your dick hitting a different spot in him that caused him to arch his back in total bliss.
“A-ah Your highness-“ his face got hotter and his voice staggered. The words seemingly got caught in his throat. You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lips but you pulled away before he had a chance to react.
“You’re absolutely breathtaking. More beautiful than any creature I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.” You cooed and eventually laid your mouth on his once again hungrily. He tasted better than any divine nectar, any 5 star meal Your personal chefs could cook up with. You begged for entrance and he quickly allowed. Your tongue quickly traced his fangs and your newfound territory, quickly claiming What is now yours. You pulled away for breath after a while . You took out your still harden dick and let it lay between your heated bodies. He whined from the lack of pleasure but was quickly replaced with a moan once again as Your mouth went down before reaching his chest and biting down on his nipples. Your tongue worked one nipple as your other hand played with the other. You rolled one nipple between your two fingers making his mouth You never knew how sensitive he was but here he was Moaning as if he wanted to be breeded with another Draconia heir. You let go of his nipples and quickly went down until u reach his still tighten hole. You quickly licked his hole as if you haven’t eaten in days. His voice came out hoarse and let out a long broken moan at the pleasure between his legs.
“S-Shit. F-FUCK.” His thighs quickly wrapped around your head.
“Gonna Cum! Ngh~ Gonnacumgonnacumgonnacum!”
The white clear liquid Quickly layed spread on his stomach as you Licked it up tasting the salty but sweet taste.
You wrapped your mouth around the tip in order to get more of the taste and easily eased your way down the head. You then took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. Whether it was his mouth or cock, he tasted wonderful and you couldn’t get enough of him.
“I-I think I’ma c-c-cum again!!” You took your mouth out of his shaft before he could Cum. He whined at the loss of pleasure. You quickly lined up ur dick in his hole once again and entered his less tighten hole by inch. After a few seconds he quickly Gave you the green light.
“A-Ah Move-“
You quickly began to rock ur hips into him making a bunch of noises that squelched every time you thrusted. You could feel every inch of him. You buried your cock deep within him as both ur moans filled the entirety of the room.
“I’m close! please! I-“
You fasten the pace and sucked on his neck once again. He wrapped his legs around your waist off the bed and pulsed around your cock. He cried out before once again cumming between your stomach’s. Not much later Your quickly filled him up with your seed.
You two came down from your high and with a wave of his wrist, The ties quickly unraveled.
He laid down next to you with a flushed face.
“You alright?” You were able to stammer out.
“Mm.. I-Im good. Just tired I suppose. I feel quite young again though fufu~”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his Statement and once again, Lilia was the teasing bat that you came to know and love. You wrapped your arms around his naked Body and brought the covers to shield both of your bodies. He Laid his head between your neck and kissed it.
“So.. another round?”
“LILIA!!”
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erinawritesheadcanons2 · 1 year ago
Note
Could I ask for either a poly or love triangle with the DreamTale twins? They’re my comfort characters and I’m not doing too well emotionally recently. Love what I’ve read of your work! Have a good day! <3
Nightmare Sans and Dream Sans Love Triangle Headcanons, Ink and Error Love Triangle, Underfell Sans and Underswap Sans Love Triangle
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A/N: Hello there @artsyfangirl! I hope you do not mind that I am adding Fell and Blueberry as well as Ink and Error. Just take it as a bonus for you since you don't really have a good day!
Warning: Cursing from Fell
Gender: Neutral
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Nightmare Sans and Dream Sans
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Almost impossible because the two of them are different and we cannot forget that Dream Sans and Nightmare Sans would always fight with each other as Nightmare is the leader of Bad Sanses and Dream Sans is the leader of Star Sanses.
It is like a war because the two of them are going to end up fighting with each other despite the war between the Bad Sanses and the Star Sanses ended many years ago but it's not as aggressive between Ink and Error Sans
Dream Sans going to steal your attention by trying to make you laugh with his silly antics or his stupid but funny jokes as he would talk with you.
He would also try to steal your attention by giving small but meaningful gifts, something like little trinkets, keychains, or maybe a hand-made sweet ( I headcanon that Dream can bake).
And he would also always listen to you talking about anything even though he does not understand. He would try to understand them and give the response that you want but sometimes....it fails.
Unlike Dream, Nightmare is much less obvious when he tries to steal your attention away from Dream Sans. He would secretly tell you about all the bad things Dream did.
When Dream is not around, he keeps you in his room and not letting you go out but keeps you around as his tentacles would hold you. Sometimes, his words could make you turn red because he would whisper those 'You look dazzling my dear in this outfit but you look even more amazing if you don't wear them.' (AYO- WHAT THE FUCK)
Trying to impress you by showing you what Dream might not have but he has it (For example, if you love the library. He would allow you to read the books in there and he would be your tutor).
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The stars sparkle under the darkness of the sky and two creatures stand together to see all of the stars since the stars shine the brightest at twelve at midnight. A skeleton with a golden cape and light blue jacket standing close next to his crush. They/he/she has (H/C) hair colour with (H/L) hair length with a pair of mesmerizing (E/C) eye colours and (S/C) skin colour.
Using his powers and the staff he always brought around, he created a portal into the Outertale Universe, a place where the stars were brighter than ever, and dreams seemed to come to life. (Y/N) was completely captivated by the mesmerizing beauty of the Outertale Universe. The stars twinkled with an enchanting light, and the whole place exuded a sense of peace.
On the other realm were a pair of cyan eyes seeing the sight from the crystal ball. A skeleton with tentacles and goopy slime all over him watched his brother being romantic to (Y/N) from the shadows, jealousy brewing within him as he saw Dream Sans and (Y/N) together in the Outertale Universe.
It did not take much time for a dark and swirling portal to appear far away from where Dream Sans and (Y/N) stood together to enjoy the sight of the stars, and ominous black tentacles emerged. They snaked towards you, reaching out like a rubber band and wrapping around (Y/N).
The cold sensation around the waist made (Y/N) (L/N) gasps in aghast, horror, and surprise. It was tight enough so you could not escape from the grip but it was not hard enough to hurt you in any way since he did not want you to get hurt. Nightmare Sans, who had been lurking in the shadows, had seized this opportunity to snatch you away from Dream Sans
Dream Sans was taken aback, a mixture of shock and horror painted across his usually cheerful face. In the blink of an eye, the person with (H/C) hair colour and (S/C) skin colour was taken away from Dream Sans and Outertale, leaving him in a stupor. "Oh no! I should go to Nightmare's castle!" He pulled out the staff from his belt.
On the other side of the world, (Y/N) crosses her/his/their arms together and stares at the goopy skeleton with a black stare. You are clearly not amused by his little stunt. "What are you looking at, don't give me that look," Nightmare Sans rolls his pinpricks. "Really? Suddenly kidnapping me out of nowhere when I was hangout with Dream?" (Y/N) squints her/his/their eyes. "Ughh, what so great about Outertale? I can bring you there every day if you want. I could even bring you to a better place," Nightmare scoffs.
The battle between the two brothers raged on, neither willing to back down as they wanted your attention and no one else could have it. . As this pattern continued, (Y/N) grew increasingly not amused with Dream Sans and Nightmare Sans constantly kidnapping her/him/them out of nowhere.
The constant fighting between the two skeleton brothers had become more of a burden than a romantic pursuit, and they/she/he wished for a way to break free from this never-ending cycle. "You two really acting like five years old. I'm even more impressed nowadays kids seem to be more mature than you two," (Y/N) mutters.
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Ink Sans and Error Sans
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If the love triangle between Nightmare and Dream Sans is already bad. Ink Sans and Error Sand would be much worse than those two because they would constantly FIGHT for your attention.
It is so bad that sometimes it feels like you could just take a chair and popcorn just to watch the drama between these two because they would fight for anything, not just your attention.
Ink Sans when trying to get your attention is by bringing you to the portal and showing you all of the beautiful Alternate Universes to impress you since he is the protector of Aus.
He would also just steal you away when you have free time to draw together with him. Sometimes, he would throw bits of compliments on your drawing, even if it was bad. He just likes your creativity.
He would also try to create something out of his paintbrush, small gifts maybe something adorable such as plushies and giving it to you to make you happy.
Error Sans is not as romantic as Ink Sans sadly so he had difficulty stealing your attention but I can see that he would bring you to some beautiful AUS despite him being an AU's destroyer, to watch the star.
Protects you from the other skeletons surprisingly and not letting anyone touch you, especially Ink Sans as he glares at the protector of AU's since he knows Ink also has a crush on you.
Also, he's a bit of a bully. To get your attention, he would make fun of you and give you tons or ridiculous nicknames just to piss you off and he's always amused each time you react to him.
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On the small beanbag inside of the living room, a person with (H/C) hair colour with (H/L) hair length and a pair of (E/C) eye colour as well as (S/C) skin colour sitting on it with books sprawled around the small chair. (Y/N) had been enjoying a peaceful afternoon, nestled comfortably in the bean bag. Their/her/his eyes scan every word of the book.
The room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, the perfect ambience for your novel. You had just begun to immerse yourself in the world of words when, out of nowhere, a mysterious portal appeared in the corner of the room. The portal was glowing with the colour of the rainbow decorating it.
Startled by the sudden appearance of the portal, (Y/N) dropped their book, their heart racing. From the portal emerged the skeleton with a spot of ink on his cheek, a giant paintbrush on his back and a giant brown cape draped on his back. The protector of the multiverse as he would protect the universes from certain skeletons.
"Hey (Y/N)!" Ink said cheerfully, a wide smile on his face. "What are you doing?" "I was just reading, Ink. What's going on?" Still, a bit bewildered by the unexpected visit, (Y/N) stammered to Ink Sans. "Well, I had this idea for some collaborative drawing, and I thought, who better to join me than you? We could create something amazing together!" Ink's pinpricks twinkled in excitement.
(Y/N) was initially hesitant because the books that you had been reading had not finished and it was in the chapter where the main character faced their rival. But the idea of spending time drawing and the thought about the possibility of creating art together with Ink sounded fun too. "Sure, why not? Let's go," (Y/N) agreed with a smile.
With a bright smile, Ink Sans gestured for (Y/N) to follow him back through the portal and leave behind the book that (Y/N) still had not finished. But all of that excitement was gone as (Y/N) and Ink went inside the portal. Unsurprisingly, there is another guest who was not invited by Ink. "Oh no....you gotta be kidding me," Ink sighs.
The skeleton stepped off from the strings once he saw Ink and (Y/N) on the ground. The familiar black skeleton with a black coat, blue hood and black slippers strutted up to both Ink Sans and (Y/N). "iT HaS BeEn SuCh a LonG Time Isn'T it? bUddY?" A smug smile spread across his face. "Error, Leave us alone. You had already spent time with (Y/N) yesterday. Today is my turn," Ink Sans rolls his pinpricks. "NaAh. I Don't ThiNK sO," Another portal appears behind him.
Ink Sans quickly took the giant paintbrush from his back so he could create a shield for you but he was too late because the strings were wrapped on every one of your limbs. Error Sans created another portal of his own and, with (Y/N) wrapped on his strings, stepped into it, disappearing from Ink's realm.
You couldn't help but let out a sigh of frustration. Turning to Error Sans, he was smirking and holding you as if you were his captive. "Error, you know we spent time together yesterday. You could have given Ink a chance. This isn't fair to him," you scold him,your irritation was evident in your tone.
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Underfell Sans and Underswap Sans
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A love triangle between Underfell Sans, You, and Underswap Sans might be a little ridiculous because it feels like you are taking care of a skeleton that acts like a golden retriever and also some kind of skeleton that acts like an emo with anger issues.
The other one is going to bully you just to get your attention and just to see your reaction and the other one is trying to hog all of your attention and will follow you everywhere.
Underswap Sans can be a little bit of an attention seeker because he would try to make tacos ( and end up burning all of them or using the wrong condiment and creating something inedible).
If you are busy, would give you that sad look on you before begging you to hang out with him and when Underfell was too late to ask you, he would secretly smirk.
He actually knows that he does look innocent and cute despite he hate of getting called cute but when Fell was angry at him and you saw him. He will use his cuteness to get you on his side.
Underfell Sans can be a bully just like Error Sans but a little bit worse because he won't just be calling you ridiculous names. He would make you dress up for a deal, make you watch a scary movie, and be a menace.
Not surprisingly he would bring you to Grillby's bar to hang out with you and surprisingly he asked Grilly to help him out. Even though, he would end up having more tabs. He would pay for your meals and drinks as he wants you to taste the monster food too.
Underfell Sans also steals your attention by playing games together with you. I believe he knows many great games and he always invites you to play a multiplayer game with him.
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The temperature of the kitchen is rising as the sun goes up in the middle of the day, a person with luscious (H/C) hair and striking (E/C) eyes sat in the kitchen, typing away on your computer. The soft glow of her screencast a warm, amber hue across your face, illuminating the (E/C) eye colours.
It had been a long day, and they/she/he was racing against the clock to finish the mountain of files that had been assigned to her/him/them by the old-bladed head manager. But it won't stop nature from doing its job as (Y/N)'s stomach chooses this inopportune moment to growl with hunger.
You could not help but let out a quiet sigh, torn between your desire for food or the commitment to completing the tasks that had piled up. (Y/N) knew that they/she/he couldn't afford to lose any more time, but the rumbling stomach seemed to have other plans. With a heavy heart, (Y/N) decided to take a brief break.
She/he/they stood up from the chair and stretched their/her/his tired limbs and (Y/N) knew a hungry tummy would only distract the process of working and finishing the papers. In the fridge, you found some leftover chicken and colourful bell peppers. It was the perfect opportunity to whip up something quick and satisfying.
Before (Y/N) could make something, you could hear someone scream, "Mwehehehee! The magnificent blue is here!" Startled, (Y/N) turns around to see Underswap Sans. "Oh, hey Blue. Do you need anything?" (Y/N) tilts their/her/his head a little bit in curiosity. "Human! I heard your stomach grumbling! It was quite loud, human! how 'bout I whip up some tasty tacos for you??" The skeleton asks.
(Y/N) couldn't help but glance up at the ceiling, remembering that the Jolly Skeleton wasn't the best cook. His previous attempt at making tacos had been a disaster, he managed to burn them, and then, in a whimsical attempt to salvage the situation, he had sprinkled glitter on the charred mess. (Y/N) had tried to be polite and take a bite, but it had been quite a horrible mistake.
As (Y/N) hesitated, contemplating whether to accept his offer or not, the door to the kitchen from the living room was suddenly slammed open, causing both Underswap Sans and (Y/N) to jump in surprise. Standing in the doorway was Underfell Sans. "Oi, loser, You said you're hungry? Why don't we get some grillby on the corner? The dumb baby tacos aren't edible for your intestine," Underfell Sans grumbled as he glanced at Underswap Sans.
(Y/N) felt relieved as Underfell Sans gave a solution or an easy way out of the situation. You didn't want to hurt Underswap Sans's feelings, but you also didn't want to endure another round of eating burnt glittery tacos. (Y/N) turned to Underswap Sans and gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks for the offer, Sans, but I think I'll go with Underfell Sans this time. I'm craving for French fries," You told him. "B-but those are unhealthy! They have so much grease!" Underswap Sans said.
Underswap Sans couldn't hide the disappointment that washed over him when (Y/N) rejected his offer. He let out a resigned sigh and watched as Underfell Sans escorted (Y/N) out of the kitchen. There was a pang of sadness in his eye sockets before his eyes shifted to Underfell Sans who silently glared at him, puffing his cheeks altogether.
He turned to look at Underfell, who was secretly smirking at him. Underfell was well aware that he had managed to steal (Y/N)'s attention away, and the competitive edge between the two skeletons continued to burn.
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kedsandtubesocks · 11 months ago
Text
you, my golden hour
Rancher!Javier Peña x Cowgirl!Reader
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summary: 1997. as a fallen rodeo star, you can handle anything - except maybe your city’s hometown hero
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, Post Season 3 Javi works on his family’s ranch AU, unspecified age gap (only age mention is reader can drink and Javi is older), major pining & yearning, emotional hurt & comfort, light angst with tender fluff, reader has a backstory and family, no physical description of reader but gendered language is used and reader can ride a horse, use of pet/nicknames, mention/description of rodeo accident, themes of dealing with burnout, small texas town toxicity, light Spanish use, reader & javi having insecurities they bond/heal over, bar scene with alcohol consumption, spicy moments with allusions to smut, intense makeout where Javi gets handsy, soft!Javi, dreamy & protective!Javi
word count: 10.2k (I’m sorry)
a/n: the second installment of ‘let’s rodeo’ and my love letter to Javi & Texas, the heart of this series - this fic is near & dear to me and I just appreciate getting the chance to write this, so to @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy & @perotovar for giving me the courage to post this know I’m so grateful… and to you reading this thank you, so dearly appreciate you too ♡
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You haven’t thought of Javier Peña in years.
Older than you, he was handsome and had a smile that rivaled the Texas Friday night lights. He eventually hooked up with the number one town sweetheart who was even rumored to have won a local state beauty contest.
By the time you heard of their engagement, you already had started your plans for the circuits, for the road. You didn’t mourn or even feel heartbroken over the news.
Even after that, the rodeo consumed you. It kept you in a tornado like whirl for years until that fateful day it spat you out.
When that ride stopped, Javier Peña came back into your mind with a strange fog-like entrance.
While still on bed rest, the news on the TV had been showing a small special on the War on Drugs and the lull of it filled the room.
Your grandmother was the one who brought him up.
“That’s what Chucho’s son is involved in.”
“Wait, Javier Peña’s into drugs?” You asked a bit confused even without the pain killers.
“No. He’s going after the people who sell drugs.” She clarified.
Oh.
“He also didn’t get married either. Do you remember?” She had added.
You did. You heard he left the little Miss Homecoming Queen at the altar. Quite a scandal that made him the talk of the town for a while.
Then he became a big shot drug enforcer who took down one of the largest drug cartels in history and he again became the talk of the town.
It’s been a few years since your accident and now Javier Peña is back home.
Now driving into the Peña ranch you feel both so young, yet so aged at the same time, like you’re stuck between two realities.
Your sister bounces out of the truck with uncontainable glee and you’re grateful she’s excited.
Chucho Peña comes to greet everyone. His classic cream cowboy hat and gentle smile are all a beautiful welcome. It’s also adorable seeing your grandpa reunite with his old friend.
Señor Peña’s kind eyes eventually land on you with a sweet twinkle.
“It’s good to see you, mija.”
You’ve always adored Chucho Peña.
His son on the other hand…
You never knew Javier enough to fully know him. Even with his dad and your grandpa being pals, the years between you and Javier didn’t help. He existed outside your orbit, a figure almost out of reach.
“And that son of yours!?” Your grandpa of course perks up asking about him.
“Ah sí Javi’s here, just out in the stables.” Chucho explains casually.
The last time you physically saw Javier Peña he was walking out of the bank. You’d been waiting in your family truck when he stepped out. By that point, a small bit of shadow was forming against his jaw and upper lip as his facial hair began to grow thick. He was a young man on the verge of stepping into the threshold of being grown.
Now before you he’s a fully grown man.
For a minute you think the man in the barn is someone else because it doesn’t seem like Javier.
Yet when he turns, you see his eyes.
Rich soil of the earth stunning eyes and you know it’s him.
His body has filled out and his shoulders even look broader. He sports a similar mustache like his father’s and it adds to his older appearance. There’s a weathered weariness on his face evident in the wrinkles carved out by his eyes and on his forehead.
The button up shirt he’s wearing allows a peek at his chest and his skin shines with sweat from the Texas sun already shining its warmth.
He’s breathtakingly stunning and you can’t take your eyes off him.
He warmly greets your grandpa with a wide smile that touches his eyes and brightens his face. He’s still that charming young man you saw, a brilliant comet out of your galaxy.
But then his gaze lands on you and his eyes narrow. A conflicting recognition and confusion swirl in his eyes. He knows you, seems to remember you, but not fully.
His dad clarifies your name and you deflate a bit. Then Javier’s eyes go wide and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.
So, he does remember you.
“Oh, yeah. Good to see you.” He nods fully realizing who you are.
“Guess the horse must be for you then?” Javier adds and your heart sinks a bit.
A grimace tugs on your face but you try recovering quickly.
“No mijo,” Chucho thankfully answers quick and gentle. “I told you, it’s for her hermanita.”
You grin small and tight in agreement.
“Oh…yeah of course.” He nods.
Your little sister immediately jumps in bright and eager to share her excitement. Thankfully the focus effortlessly shifts to her and the reason why you’re all here.
The horse is beautiful, playful and eager for attention. This first meeting already feels good. Of course, everyone holds their breaths when your sister goes for the ride.
And it couldn’t have gone more smoothly.
You even exhale relieved.
“You seemed nervous.” A smooth warm voice comes out besides you.
As you lean against the ring’s fence you discover Javier Peña moving to rest beside you.
“Just like the first day of school kinda nerves. Want to make sure everything goes smoothly.” You answer as your sister effortlessly trots around the ring with ease.
“Yeah, I bet. They already seem to be clicking.” Javier notes genuine and you’re grateful too.
Your grandfather now calls out to you.
Both you and Javier turn towards where the older men stand close to each other like conspiring headaches.
“To celebrate, we’re having dinner here!” Your grandpa cheers happily and a dread drop kicks your heart.
Immediately you stammer out panicked about how you all can’t impose.
“No pasa nada, mija.” Senor Peña gently reassures you saying not to worry. “Besides, you’re all more than welcome here. It’s been a while since Javi and I had guests.”
You don’t miss the unashamed hum Javier makes.
“And grandma?” You reply, trying to reach for more excuses not to stay.
“She can walk.” Your sister teases suddenly and you give her a sharp look.
“Will you go pick her up, please?” Your grandpa gives you his best pleading face before simply throwing the truck keys to you
Stubborn old man.
“Hijo,” Señor Peña calls out again, but this time to his son. “You should go too.”
Shit.
“No Pop, it’s okay!” Javi politely declines and you want to second that.
“Aye,” His dad chides and then he pointedly gives Javier a look that screams - Don’t be rude, go with her.
Damn.
The walk to the truck is quiet, awkward as hell, feels like two parents shoving their kids together to play nice.
Heading into the main part of town, silence fills most of the drive. You're also mentally kicking yourself for not getting the radio fixed last week like you should’ve.
“So uh, your grandma…still volunteering at the women’s shelter?” Until Javier offers a small branch of conversation.
“Yup.” You nod.
“Oh good, that’s good.” He replies.
But silence returns.
“So, you taking a break from the rodeo then? Pop used to tell me about you all the time.” Javier comments light, casual.
You feel like a cat with its hairs standing up. But even with that sensation, knowing Señor Peña spoke so fondly of you does simmer the sting.
“Sort of.” You decide to rip this off like a bandaid, get it over with now. “Had a bad accident a while back. Still haven’t decided if I wanna return.”
It’s been two years since you’ve been home.
“Oh…” Javier’s voice drops, the same way everyone does when you tell them.
“I’m sorry.” Except you’re surprise at how sincerely soft his voice is. “I thought I heard something about it. I should’ve fucking remembered… Sorry.”
He apologizes again, surprising you once more as genuine repentance floats off his voice.
You thank him understandingly. After all, it's one of the better responses you’ve been given. But you don’t want to dig into this, especially with him, so you quickly change the conversation.
“So how long are you here for? I’m sure there must be other drug cartels waiting for you to take them down.” You offer casual.
Not only had he taken down Pablo Escobar a while back, you briefly heard of his very recent grand move against the other cartel in Columbia.
He’s impressive, the town’s hero and golden boy.
“Uh actually, I’m retired. Gonna take a step back for a bit.” Javier answers just as polite and calm as you had answered him.
Oh. You hadn’t heard that. Or maybe you did and forgot.
You now feel like the foolish one and genuinely congratulate him.
“It takes a lot to decide when to step away. Besides, you deserve a break after all you did.” You mean those words.
After all, they were the same comforting words his father told you when you came back home.
A pause fills the truck and you worry you’ve maybe overstepped.
“I…yeah.” Javier breathes out. “Thanks. Appreciate that.”
Your heart flutters at how small and genuine he sounds.
“So…how about them Dallas Cowboys, huh?” Javier offers light and for some reason you laugh.
It’s not much, but it feels like a lifeline.
When you arrive to pick up your grandmother she gasps so giddy when she sees the surprise guest with you. Her excitement lights up the drive while she talks about her day taking full advantage of having Javier listening to her.
“Oh I’m so glad you’re back home safe Javi!” She gushes and then says your name.
You’re already panicking.
“With so many of your friends living out of town, maybe you’ll get to spend more time back in the city with Javier!?” She offers to you brightly and absolute horror seizes your heart.
Shooting a petrified face at her you silently plead for this discussion to die.
Javier in the back seat weakly laughs. Because of course Javier, ever the gentleman, had your grams sitting up front.
“Oh don’t give me that look.” Your grandma playfully teases back at you. “At least go rent a movie with him.”
The thought crosses your mind about turning around and dropping her back off.
“Did you know,” Javier innocently jumps in. “The first ever blockbuster was opened in Dallas?”
Your grandma coos in awe as if he’s just explained a miracle.
“See! Now you have to go with him to one!” She urges.
A horrified indignant noise escapes you. While behind you, Javier snickers even more and you’re tempted to drop him off on the side of the road to let the coyotes feast on him.
The minute you arrive at the Peña’s home you can’t get out of the truck fast enough.
Dinner fortunately goes smooth and you’re surprised at how eased the rest of the time unfolds. You do hate how many times your eyes flicker towards Javier like if you’re still trying to soak him in.
Then, from across the table, Javier’s gaze flickers to you fast catching you staring red handed. Your heart transforms into a jackrabbit, petrified and thumping fast, almost making you flee right then and there.
Until your grandpa addresses you. His warm eyes dance with a surprise in his gaze.
“We’ve decided to have some of your sister's training here.”
Your heart now skips over itself.
Your gramps and sister both explain the plan hatched while you were on the road. In order to get used to competing in different spaces, your sister decided to train here at the Peña’s.
You’re hesitant, but understand the logic. You’re even impressed. But you can’t pinpoint why you’re so nervous about this.
Señor Peña now calls to you, sensing your hesitation, and tenderly grins.
“Don’t worry mija,” his kind eyes crinkle with understanding. “It’s no trouble at all.”
His reassurance is grace and you smile back relieved while thanking him deeply.
“Seems like you’re the boss here.” Javier suddenly joins in with a casual tone and you freeze.
“Well yeah, that’s my coach you’re talking to.” Your sister proudly declares.
“Coach?” Javier’s voice perks up curious.
“Yeah.” You answer with a small smile. “That’s me.”
“Been barking orders at me all these years so why not put her in charge.” Your sister innocently adds and in pure sobbing annoyance you want to shove her face into her plate.
Thankfully everyone laughs, illuminating the room.
But you’re faced with a new reality. You’re going to be here more, seeing Javier Peña more.
And you don’t know how you feel about that yet.
-
The Peña ranch in the morning sits tranquil and the peace gives you the focus on training.
You’re surprised at how good your sister and the mare already bond. You explain a few drills and have your sister run a few repetitions of them.
“You sound like a tough one.” Javier’s voice surprises you and you almost jump over the fence.
Glancing back, he approaches you with two thermoses.
“Pop and I thought you might need an extra pick me up.” He offers and you can’t help but greedily grab at it.
“Tell your dad thanks and that he’s a saint.”
Javier snorts at your reply.
Now your focus returns to your sister. You recommend a type of turning drill vividly remember doing yourself. Your sister playfully salutes you and begins.
“How she looking, coach?” Him calling you ‘coach’ draws a dangerous electricity that snaps up your spine.
“Don’t call me coach.” You dryly tell him trying to keep yourself composed.
“Well isn’t that what you are?” He teases casually.
Your face scrunches up annoyed while his eyes crinkle amused.
“Don’t you have things to do, Javier Peña?” You sigh, already exhausted of this man.
“Javi…you can just call me Javi, coach.”
You’re tempted to childishly scoot away from him. Younger you would have never imagined he was this annoying.
“Don’t call me coach.” You dully repeat.
“Okay, coach.”
Now you contemplate just shoving him away.
But all the annoyance washes away when commotion hits. The horse makes a disgruntled whinny and immediately both you and Javier whip your attention towards the ring. Your sister calmly stays on the saddle, gently soothing down her companion.
After asking if she’s good, her eased thumbs up reassures you. She does a few trots to calm everyone down. You even exhale relieved.
“You lost in thought?” Javier comments.
“Yeah.” You answer him with a mutter. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
You almost don’t tell him. But you surprise yourself and do.
You explain the type of pace that comes with training in barrel racing. There’s a pattern and method to it all. You don’t realize you’ve rambled until you blink and realize Javier stares so directly at you. His eyebrows furrow slightly as if he’s focused hard listening to your words.
Embarrassed, you’re about to stammer out an apology when Javier whistles low.
“You know your fucking shit.” He nods appreciatively and hearing his pride ignites something dangerous in your chest.
Another surprise sharp whistle comes. Out from the barn, a further ways away, Chucho stands staring out. He even waves at you and you wave back.
“You gonna work today, hijo?” He calls out.
Javier curses under his breath.
“Busted.” You joke and now he’s the one side eying you.
“Please you’re the one slacking off here!” Your baby sister suddenly complains loud and cheeky “You’re not getting paid by the hour, coach!”
“Guess we’re both in trouble.” Javier snickers.
You roll your eyes but quickly sneer at your smiling sister.
“Alright then. See ya later…bandita.” Javier already walks away by the time you hear his goodbye.
But it hits you.
He thankfully stopped calling you coach. But now, what replaced it…
Little Bandit.
The nickname rips through you with a barbed fierceness you’re not prepared for.
The rest of the month follows this same routine.
On training days Javier shows up with something for you to drink. Once he even came with a few goods from the bakery across town.
No matter what, he watches practice with you for as long as he can before getting called back to the ranch.
During these moments together, he asks about how the turns are made or why you correct your sister when you do. It’s friendly. You actually start enjoying his company especially when your grandfather so eagerly leaves to hang out with Chucho instead.
The greetings and thanks are always the same.
“Thanks, Peña.”
“Javi,” he patiently corrects you everytime.
You can’t bring yourself to call him that just yet.
At the start of the new month everyone sleeps in and arrives later to the Peña’s ranch.
This time you’ve brought more barrels. Thankfully you can move them with the help of your sister. Suddenly besides you, boots clamor onto the truck and rapidly you snap your attention to the source of the sound.
Javier Peña smoothly climbs up to help you with the rest of the barrels.
He’s in a striking soft purple button up shirt. Sweat already shines against his bare arms. Thick worn in working gloves cover his hands. His hair seems a bit curlier today and he wears aviator sunglasses that suit his face.
Effortlessly Javier grabs onto one and lifts it by himself.
You’re stunned. Even your sister stops and stares just as surprised.
Javier is strong. Doesn’t seem like the muscular type but he’s built and radiates a type of seasoned strength of a well grown man, a rancher man.
His arms firmly hold the barrel, sturdy and toned, and you can’t look away.
“Where d’ya want me to put it?” Javier yells and you trip out of your thoughts to dumbly point where the barrel needs to be placed.
Your grandfather whistles proudly seeing Javier.
“If this rancher thing doesn’t work out for you Jav, you got the makings of a fine rodeo man.” Your grandpa teases.
Javier chuckles, with his eyes averted a bit bashful.
“Could add him to the team.” Your grandpa notes with a twinkling gleam of something mischievous.
You reply a dry no as you move to get off the truck.
In a flash, Javier jogs over and immediately reaches his hand out to help you get down. Placing your hand in his, Javier helps you down and you thank him.
He’s wearing gloves. This shouldn’t feel so significant. Yet the way he firmly holds your hand makes your heart sprout wings.
Even back on the solid dirt ground your legs don’t feel as if they’re under you.
Javier doesn’t stick around after that and you’re allowed to focus.
It’s later in the day, later than the usual practice times, and the Texas sun beats down with a fierceness. You call for more water breaks to keep everyone hydrated.
During a break, a rustling catches your attention. There towards the barn, Javi moves in and around the place.
You just catch the smallest glimpse of him with a hammer in his hand as he heads into the smaller enclosure. Curiosity gets the best of you.
Grabbing another water bottle you justify it as wanting to be polite, but curiosity gnaws at you.
The clang of hammering approaches louder and louder until you spot him in a goat pen. He hammers in a reinforced slab, probably fixing a hole. His back to you allows a glorious full sight of his broad shoulders at work.
He even switches to a drill and watching him casually use power tools, you never thought you’d find this so attractive.
One of the goats nearby makes a blep of a noise at your appearance and you almost want to shush them.
Javier glances over his shoulders spotting you.
“Hey there, bandita. Qué pasó?” he nods at you as the nickname flares up your heart.
“Just…knew how hot it was getting and gramps told me just to check up on you.” You lie waving the water bottle.
Javier turns to face you and you’re greeted with the sight of his full sweaty glory. You should be turned off seeing how bad his shirt sticks to him, how he smells of hay and dirt, but it’s incredibly hot.
The hard work of his day evident on every inch of him brews a dark cloud of desire in you.
“Oh well, tell your gramps thanks.” He replies snagging the water bottle from you.
His plus lips, the glorious sight of his thick slick neck, and the movement of the sweat just covering him as he drinks from the water bottle…
Getting this weak over the sight of him just drinking a water bottler you now think is the lowest you can go. You wonder about walking down by the river nearby and just jumping in to cool down.
From a distance, your sister yells out for you.
“Duty calls.” Javier smirks. With a sheepish smile you shrug then wave a quick goodbye.
You practically run out of that barn like a fleeing field mouse.
Later that night, alone in your room, your fingers slip under your sheets to slide under your sleep shorts. You imagine licking the sweat off Javier’s neck, picture his thick strong fingers, that fix up barns, hoist up barrels, and wonder how thick they would feel inside you.
You fall into desire’s blissful sticky release.
When you shower the next morning, you rationalize that those thoughts of Javier simply come from needing to scratch an itch.
Besides, you couldn’t get tangled with Javier. He’s older. He’s Laredo’s golden boy. He doesn’t go after broken cowgirls like you.
In the shower you turn the heat up more. A part of you hopes it will scorch off the building desire in your heart.
-
The morning is muggy, a soupy cloudy early day begging you to curl back into bed. Soft chirping echoes of the mockingbirds fill the air. You opted for earlier practices this week so your sister could prepare for a trip with her friends coming up. You agreed, wanting her to still enjoy moments outside of this.
“You out here all alone, bandita?” Javier.
He breaks the morning’s stillness. Holding his routine two drinks, he approaches you bundled up in a nice jacket that flatters him.
Thanking him, you greedily grab the drink and savor its warmth.
You explain that your sister is free roaming around the ranch this morning and it’s why you’re all alone. You stare at the empty riding area where the dirt sits holy and untouched.
“Do you miss it?” Javier asks. His voice is quietly probing, gentle as the morning mist.
That question holds a million answers all tied up in a messy knot.
“Sometimes.” You answer truthfully because you did. You missed the adrenaline, the wind blowing past you, speeding around a barrel so fast it was like you were out running the wind.
“Can I ask…” Javier and his soft, kind voice presses on. “What happened?”
Might as well. You’re now sort of friends with Javier even though the word feels sticky in your heart.
“You know that saying about how you just gotta get back on the horse? Well it's easier said than done.” You mutter.
It happened during a ride in Arizona. You’ve fallen and wrecked before. But this one just felt different. You took a barrel close and then everything slipped away. You remember being on the saddle, remember feeling your body float. Then the world went dark.
You woke up to a nasty concussion, a broken arm, and a couple of rowdy scrapes. You don’t remember your foot getting caught in the stirrup, but that’s what had happened.
“Holy fuck...” Javier breathes out, the weight of your words hang in his. “Shit I’m sorry.”
You thank him earnestly and reassure him it’s fine, just unfortunate shit like that happens. Everyone knew how dangerous the sport could get. The rodeo was a rough ride and every cowboy knew that.
But for you, you just couldn’t shake it off.
“I’m glad you made it out.” Sincerity blooms in his voice and your lips tug grateful at how considerate he is as you thank him again.
“You haven’t gone back?” Now he dances on a tight line.
“Nope. I tried after getting the clearance from the doctors but… it just didn’t go well.” You truthfully tell him.
You didn’t want to ride anymore, didn’t want to face everyone or the pressure of the race or the terror swallowing you whole. It felt as if you were burnt dry and exhausted from the inside out.
Your grandma gently embraced you and held you for what felt like hours.
“Then don’t go. You don’t have to do anything that makes you this worried and sick. Nothing is worth you being this scared, not even the damn rodeo.” She told you tenderly and with the most profoundly kind smile. You cried out of relief.
“It’s brave,” Javier says so firmly understanding. “Making a decision like that is really fucking brave, hard as fuck too.”
You gently grin and thank him again while blinking away a few tears.
“Same goes for you too.” You tell him.
From your gramps, who had gotten the full story from Chucho, you learned more about what happened with Javier and his final days in Columbia.
“I don’t know much but, what you did was brave too.” Your voice comes out softer than you expected.
He barks a laugh now. It’s dry, bitter, and can catch fire.
“Doesn't feel like it.”
You understand maybe more than he even knows. So you think about maybe what you would’ve told yourself.
“You did what was right.” You begin. “Everyone else might judge you or say shit but it doesn't matter. You’re not meant to please everyone or do what everyone expects you to do. And if that’s seen as a bad thing then…I don’t know, fuck them and fuck that.”
You say it so simply Javier busts out laughing. It’s a true blue laugh, so sweet it crinkles his beautiful dirt road eyes.
You’ve never seen him laugh like this before. And he’s beautiful.
You join in snickering as well but try to ignore the butterflies suddenly nesting in your stomach.
He’s really such a dream. A carved out Texas man so seasoned from the world, yet he still stays so kind and devoted to his family.
You get why many in the town, especially the girls during your time in high school, are all over him. Now you’re afraid you might’ve fallen into the same pit traps they did.
You’re falling under the spell of Javier Peña.
“So you’re really not going back to catching drug dealers and what not?” You ask when the laughter settles.
“I could’ve.” Javi answers. “Damn DEA would’ve taken me back. But…I just couldn’t see a future with it anymore.”
“And now here I am.” He says with a boyish soft grin.
“Now here you are”. You repeat with a nod.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” You truthfully tell him. You knew his dad worried about him. But the quiet truth is that you’re grateful for this time getting to know him now.
His eyes soften and your heat bursts.
“Thanks, glad I’m here. Glad you’re here too, bandita.” Then he softly nudges you. It’s playfully, friendly but it’s his words that almost take you out by the knees.
“Anyway, the government’s dumb. They don't deserve you.” You nod and Javier snorts amused.
“Guess I should listen to a cowgirl like you.” He teases.
You shrug. “Some people say I’m not one anymore.”
Especially because you didn’t ride anymore.
“Fuck them and fuck that.” He repeats your words and your lips twitch with a bubbling giggle.
Right now, it feels like you and him are two lonely birds sitting on a wire. Yet there’s something comforting about it, knowing it’s with him.
Then it dawns on you. You enjoy spending time with him. You know there’s desire already trickling in for him. But now he’s becoming someone precious to you.
You can’t even deny that anymore.
“Thanks, Javi.”
You don’t miss the way his eyebrows shoot up high.
Thunder roars suddenly clashing into the air interrupting the moment.
The dark clouds now loom on the horizon and coat the morning in an impending murkiness.
“Guess a storm’s coming in.” Javi mumbles.
Thankfully your sister rides back in quick and Javi decides to do some final things around the ranch before the storm rolls in. Before the rain comes, you and your sister pack up quickly. But it’s too late.
The rain pours down in a blink, almost like a hole in the sky popped to let a faucet drain out. The wind even picks up dangerously quick. It’s chaotic trying to wrangle the hose back to the stables but you and your sister manage.
“Come inside!” Gramps yells from the Peña’s porch and you and your sister scurry to the shaded sanctuary.
“You coming in?” Your sister asks while drying herself off with a towel. You don’t move from your spot by the steps.
“I’ll be in a bit.” You reassure her. She glares suspiciously and you shoo her away.
Javi hasn’t come back yet.
Noises clang out from the barn. A poisonous worry erupts through you and immediately you rush back out into the rain.
Inside the barn Javi tries yanking up a barn ladder that’s fallen over. It’s sturdy, wooden, and stuck in a hard position.
You move to help. Without any words or having to explain anything you both, as a team, work to yank the ladder out. Patiently and slowly the ladder gets moved to a spot the wind won’t knock it over.
The rush of it all has you breathing heavy.
“Thanks bandita.”
You breathlessly laugh and turn to maybe make a joke about now becoming a ranch hand and stealing his job. But all words, all thoughts, die instantly.
Having to work together to push the ladder, you now notice how close you are to him.
The sight of Javi soaked to the bone from the rain is corruptible. His clothes stick to him showing off his thick frame and shoulders. His drenched hair now seems darker with the curls more pounced.
He’s also heavily breathing too.
Now his lips, how soft and wet they look, have you hypnotized.
The pattering rain pours down hard on the roof, the only noise in the barn. You notice a shift in Javier. His eyes ever so slightly soften, almost hazing over. You might just be imaging it, but his face gradually seems to lean closer. Or maybe, you’re the one leaning towards him.
You’re possessed with an ache to kiss him, to see how the rain tastes on his lips.
It’s just you and him, soaked to the bone. You probably look like a drenched mess of a creature, but you’ve never wanted someone this much.
“Aye!”
Chucho suddenly shouts out from outside the barn and your heart stops.
Like a skittish roadrunner, you scramble away fast from Javier and just in time. His dad walks in from the other side of the barn holding an umbrella with an extra in his hand.
“You kids okay?” He calls out.
Both you and Javi yell back, quickly moving towards the elder Peña.
“You two look like a couple of soaked barn cats.” Chucho teases.
You weakly laugh and thank him for the umbrella.
Javi grumbles at his dad while he grabs the umbrella to open it up. Ever chivalrous, Javier holds it above you and him. Yet the entire walk to the house is quiet.
Fuck. Did you ruin this tentative whatever was forming between you and him? Or were you just imagining things?
You stay quiet the rest of the time waiting out the storm.
“You okay?” Your sister, keen as always, notices.
You lie with a smile saying the weather’s getting to you. When in reality, it’s a man that has.
Because you can’t stop thinking about Javier Peña now.
-
The rain stays for the rest of the week and everyone takes the schedule changes with stride. Your sister even heads out earlier on her trip earlier during a lighter drizzle.
By Saturday night the storm settles down.
Your closest friend from high school, now back in town for the month, even calls your home phone begging you to take advantage of the better weather.
“Look, before I go back to Florida let’s enjoy a nice night out, yeah? Maybe play some pool?” She pleads.
It’s how you now find yourself at the bar. You haven’t gotten dressed up in a while and you’re reminded of how nice it feels.
As much as you jokingly fussed about going out, being with your best friend laughing at the bar is lovely.
Ricky, one of the bartenders, actually was in the same grade as you two and it’s nice reminiscing, snickering over a nice drink.
“So how’s it been hanging out with Mr. Hero of the town himself?” Your friend smirks.
You make an unamused face at her while Ricky perks up.
“Wait, who are you hanging out with?” He whispers excitedly.
“Javier Peña.” Excitedly, she spills and you roll your eyes when Ricky gasps.
“You’ve fallen for the guy half the county is in love with!?” He hisses. You hate it, but it’s true and tastes soberly cold.
“Okay but practically all of our class was and maybe still is in love with him.” Your best friend adds.
“Well y’all do remember, he left Lorraine Wilson at the altar right?” Ricky reminds everyone and your mouth turns acidic.
“Oh fuck you’re right.” Your friend whispers.
“Might be bad news.” Ricky tensely tells you.
You want to hiss that he’s not like that. He’s kind, a bit annoying, but with a good heart.
“Shit, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Ricky says in a low awed tone.
Worried you whip around to see what caught his attention. Absolute horror drowns you.
Javi and another man step into the bar and you want to run.
Your best friend squeals excited beside you, but you can’t comprehend what she says. Javier has stolen your attention.
Ricky called him the devil and he does seem like an angel dipped in temptation.
The sleek blazer he wears is dressed down by his nice button up shirt and jeans. His hair is styled nice, seeming so soft and begging for someone’s fingers to run through it. A buzz swarms in your head seeing him outside the ranch looking this gorgeous.
That’s when he spots you. For a split moment you two see each other. His eyes widen and before anyone can react you whip back towards the bar.
“Looks like you’re about to fall outta your seat.” Ricky snickers and you death glare at him.
“Okay,” your friend nudges you. “The guy he’s with, I think that’s David Martinez. He was in Peña’s class right? He’s so hot now, what the fuck?” She breathes out.
You almost toast to that because you felt the same about Javier.
So you keep your head down, enjoy your drink and maybe wonder about suggesting that game of pool your best friend advertised.
“Would you two beauties be alright with a bit of company?” A sweet male voice comes out and immediately draws the attention to him.
Behind you stands Javier Peña and his friend.
David has always been kind to your family and his mom even worked with your grandma at the shelter. You appreciate that Javi still hangs out with him.
“Yes of course. We’d love some company, right?” Your friend brightly asks you and you smile polite.
Your heart however rages like it’s a wild bucking bronco trying to break free.
The guys buy a round of drinks. Everyone laughs reminiscing about that one famous senior prank where the class managed to get two cows into the school.
The atmosphere is friendly, light. But your eyes constantly flicker nervously to Javi. You can’t stop staring at him, can’t stop thinking about him. Now here he is a Texas dream, or maybe your nightmare.
You turn back to take another sip and in that shift, your best friend turns to direct all her attention to David who moves to sit beside her.
But now Javier smoothly slides into the barstool next to you.
“Nice to see you outside the ranch.” His voice comes out smooth and rich.
You agree. But the air turns awkward, as if neither of you know how to tackle this new situation.
Suddenly heels clicking fast arrive. Standing to the side is a girl you recognize from your sister’s class that just graduated high school.
“Hi,” she smiles, staring at Javi with obvious hearts in her eyes.
He politely but cautiously greets her back.
“I was, um, wondering if you wanted to maybe dance with me?” She’s bold. You can at least appreciate that.
“My friends all dared me to ask you since it’s, ya know, you.” She gushes and giggles.
“Uh, appreciate the thought but I’ll have to pass, sorry.” He turns her down gently.
As if she finally realizes you even existed her eyes blink to you.
“Oh hey!” She recognizes you as an older sister to one of her classmates. And then for something else.
“Yeah didn’t you like, used to be a rodeo cowgirl or something and then something happened so now you’re not doing anything anymore?”
She’s being underlyingly mean. Her misleading chipper tone, vapid smile, are all soaked in venom meant to shake you or even scare Javi away from you.
But you’re used to it by now. You’re about to comment how she shouldn’t even be here.
Javier however speaks first and fast.
“Hey,” Javier’s voice jumps shockingly sharply, almost reprimanding. Your eyes go wide at how fast he reacts. He even glares at the girl.
Besides you, your best friend immediately turns around.
“Oh hey!” She greets the young newcomer. “Weren’t you that girl caught buying weed only for the cops to figure out you were actually buying oregano?”
Her cheerful tone makes you bust out a snort because yeah, she’s right.
The girl’s face falls absolutely mortified.
“Now get the fuck out of here.” Your dear friend finishes sweet but the undercurrent of her voice looms threatening. The disgraced girl rushes away before she can even reply.
You wheeze into your hand and fondly lean against your dearest sweet friend.
“If she or any of her little punk ass friends try anything again, I’ll shove my heel so far up their asses.” She reassures.
“Don’t worry,” Ricky now jumps in. “I’m definitely telling our bouncer those little shits managed to sneak in.”
Gratitude carves out an ocean in you and you’re thankful for those who understand.
David whistles appreciatively and your friend, with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, returns to her discussion with him.
You feel Javier’s eyes burning on you.
“Does shit like that happen often?” His concerned and low voice floats out among the music.
You shrug.
“Back when I first came back it did, but it's dying down.”
You were supposed to be a big rodeo star. You even had an official big name brand sponsorship lined up. But, after the accident, not returning to the rodeo painted you a failure in the eyes of the town.
Especially compared to its bright shining star you sit beside.
Suddenly a warmth slides over your hand resting on the bar. Javier squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring comfort.
“I’m sorry.” He mutters deeply sad. “S’fucking awful.”
You thank him, even make a dry joke about small town bullshit which earns you a small dry chuckle.
“The shit I got after Lorraine…” he sighs and now you find his hand doesn’t leave yours. You don’t want it to.
“I get it. Shit’s brutal.” He finishes, a steeled hardness lingering in his tone.
Now your hand squeezes his.
His eyes, gleaming tiger’s eyes gemstones, flicker up to you and you smile softly.
Javi’s hand feels so lovely. It's rough, a bit callous but cozy. Just like him.
“Hey!” Your best friend suddenly cheers. “Let’s dance!”
She interrupts the moment but you can’t blame her. A hesitant scrunched up reaction tugs at your face though.
“It’s a slow dance.” You waver.
“That’s the best kind! Come on!” She urges and you spot her hand already intertwining with the guy’s.
“You go,” you urge with a beaming grin. “I wanna finish my drink.”
“Aw, come on now bandita,” now Javi slides off his seat.
Standing up straight, he extends his hand out to you.
“You gotta at least get one dance in.” He smirks.
It’s just one dance and you don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance to dance with him. That thought alone outweighs the hesitation. Placing your hand in his, Javier leads you out to the dance floor.
Javi maintains a polite distance from you. Yet the faintest scent of his cologne floats off him, a siren’s song pure of temptation. His hand keeps yours in its protective hold while he gently guides you to the beat of the music.
Being this close to him clouds your focus in a tantalizing haze begging you to get lost in. But you can’t. You can’t even stare into his eyes. So your focus flickers out to the rest of the bar.
David and your best friend dance close, already getting cozy with each other. Then your eyes move to the door.
The bar’s bouncer sternly starts throwing the three girls out and the one you recognize stares at you with disgusted hatred.
You snort.
“What?” Javi mutters, his voice silky against the low music.
You nudge your head towards the bar’s entrance and Javi follows your gaze.
“Oh hey.” He comments, noticing the scene.
“Good riddance. Poor girl must be pissed seeing you dance with someone me though.” You mutter a bit gleeful at the thought.
“Wait, what?” Javi sounds insulted.
“Uh yeah,” you reply, confused. “I mean, it’s kinda funny. You’re Mr. hometown hero here with the town’s nobody.”
“No.” Javier snaps fast. “Anyone who says or believes that’s a pinché cabrón.”
They’re a fucking asshole and the way he speaks with a conviction refuses to allow any doubt to refute him.
“And besides…I’m not a hero.” That’s when Javi’s voice drops, transforming into a whisper tangled among the slow country ballad playing.
“I’m not that golden bullshit guy everyone thinks I am.” His voice contains a stinging rawness you recognize.
Now you’re the one snapping back at him.
“Yeah you are. You’re good, Javi.” You begin firm.
“You’re noble and kind. Brave.” The words flow from your heart and you don’t even stop them. “You’ve worked hard to help people. I’m sure there’s shit you regret and you might not think you’re good because of it, but you are.”
He stays silent. Only the tune of the slow jam settles between you and him. You’re worried you’ve maybe said something to upset him.
Then Javier exhales your name and it has never sounded so tender.
Your throat tightens and when you finally look at him, you’re greeted by a galaxy.
The lights of the bar dance in his dark road eyes that stare directly at you as if the rest of the bar has melted away. Javi’s hand gingerly against your back now slides down gently. In that same motion, he slowly begins drawing you to him.
You don’t resist and catch his eyes flickering to your lips.
A sudden clamoring collision erupts and startled, you clutch onto Javi.
The cause of the commotion is a man who tripped into some chairs. He effortlessly laughs it off. The group he’s with helps him up and you’re thankful it’s not a bar fight.
You sigh relaxed.
That’s when you notice Javier shifted to draw you closer to him. In an almost protective hold, he has you now close against his broad chest. His cologne smells divine, makes your mouth water.
Like a bolt of electricity striking you, you’re galvanized and scramble immediately out of his hold.
“Wait, bandita, what’s wrong? You okay?” He’s so concerned and you dare not look at him.
“Just need some air.” You reply moving away from Javi towards the door leading to the small patio outside.
Your best friend swiftly rushes to you.
“Hey, you okay?!”
You rapidly reassure her that you’re fine and just need air. You even joke about not being able to handle your drinks anymore.
“That fucker didn’t try anything, right?” She asks low and deadly.
You shake your head and squeeze her hand. It’s enough for her to let you leave. Your body operates on autopilot until you stumble into the night air.
It feels like you’re resurfacing. You move to lean against the railing and simply gather yourself.
You feel possessed again needing to kiss him.
And it’s not just that. You want all of him all the time now and it’s infesting you. You’re barely keeping your head above water or maybe you’re this far gone under the waves.
For a moment you think it might be drizzling again. Until you blink and realize the water against your eyes are tears threatening to spill.
You’re so afraid of how badly you want Javier, and how badly it might shatter right before your eyes.
Someone says your name cautiously.
Embarrassed, you turn towards the door.
Javi stands a few steps away from you. His handsome face crumbles instantly seeing you. Quickly he rushes to your side, as if on instinct wanting to help, until he stops.
“Bandita, are you okay!? Fuck… did I do this?” He stammers out worried.
“Did I overstep?” His voice is wrecked. He’s so apologetic already.
You shake your head trying to pathetically dab away the tears. Unable to look at Javier, your attention stays on the dark stretch of parking lot.
“I promise it’s not you. It’s me.” Maybe it will always just be you.
“Querida…”
Darling…he’s never called you that.
“Whatever it is, please let me help.” His voice pleads unbearably tender and you want to cry even more.
He really is so good, too good.
“I just…I just can’t take it...” you begin with a watery cough.
You finally look at him. The furrowed brows, his worried soaked eyes, concern paints him so young. You’re reminded of the young man you saw walking out of a bank all those years ago and how a piece of him stands before you now.
“I like you so much Javi.” Through the heartache, you finally admit it out loud. “Maybe even more than I wanna admit and I don't know if I can’t keep fighting it.”
His face scrunches up and his eyes rapidly scan over you.
“Fight it?” He mutters out. “Why fight it?”
Now you stare at him a bit confused. You have nothing to lose now. So you hold your heart out to him. You reveal it all…the fears and worries sprouting in your heart like uncomfortably cacti about how he deserves someone just as refined and established as him, that he'll eventually get bored of someone like you.
All your words come out hollow, especially thinking about how he can have anyone he wants.
Javier, suddenly in the middle of your ramble, interrupts, upset, snapping your name fiercely that any other words you want to say vanish.
“You’re the only one in this town who actually understands, who maybe even really fucking sees me.” He growls.
Your heart even jumps hearing how determined and raised his voice got.
“You…” Javi now chokes out and suddenly runs a hand over his face. Then his hands go to his hips. His eyes fall to the floor as if he’s taking a moment to gather himself.
“Fuck… you don’t even know what you do to me, how much you fucking mean to me.” Javier breathes and the words get caught in your ribs.
“Whenever you’re not around I can’t stand it. I just wanna be with you….all the damn time.” He coughs out as if he can’t even believe his words.
Those earth pool eyes of his flicker to you.
Under the watch of the clouded Texas deep night sky, it’s just you and him.
You don't know who moves first. Instead it feels like two magnets finally flinging together so fast the collision knocks you awake.
Because in a blink Javi’s hand holds face while his other yanks at your hips. Then he kisses you.
It’s all encompassing.
Immediately your hands scramble to claw at him, begging to get him as close as possible.
His mustache scrapes beautifully against your lips. You taste the beer lingering on his tongue and he’s divine. The wall of the bar suddenly hits your back.
Now you’re flush against him, fully pinned under all of Javier, and you moan. His tongue with hungered finesse licks into your mouth. One hand stays firmly holding your face while his other runs across your body trying to map you out.
His hips rut against yours and you go dizzy with aching raw need.
“Mi pretty bebita, so good to me.” He whispers out thick and heavy. You whine wanting him more, wanting him inside you every way possible. Everything feels molten.
Javi playfully bites your bottom lip and your knees almost buckle. Your mind simply chants for him.
A clash of teeth, a burning heat devours you while you chase every taste of Javier that he gives. It’s an unleashing of something raw and aching, as if finally you can breathe against him while something inside you whispers yes, yes you and I are here and you don’t want to ever leave.
A sudden droplet plops onto your head. You ignore it especially when your tongue swipes against Javi’s and he groans out the most heavenly noise.
A few more large obvious water drops come.
You and Javi freeze, halting mid make out like a paused VHS tape.
Then the rain arrives.
“Shit!” Javi coughs out immediately pulling away. He quickly shrugs off his blazer and drapes it over you, a makeshift umbrella.
Filled by the most buoyant bliss, you laugh.
Javier snorts, shaking his head but he must sense it too, all of it amongst the rain.
And it’s beautiful.
-
“I’m surprised you don’t wear this as much.” Javier comments as he picks up your Stetson cowboy hat.
He’s shirtless, only wearing his jeans. You’re treated to his bare broad shoulders and wonderfully sweet ass in his jeans. It’s an utterly devastating combo.
Sitting on your bed waiting to settle in for the night with him, you shrug.
You didn’t expect him to be so curious and constantly snooping around anytime he’s in your bedroom. Then again, you still can’t believe he’s even in your bedroom.
Sneaking away that the first weekend after the bar didn’t last long though.
Your grandma caught him a few Sunday mornings later trying to sneak out and she ran to you screaming excitedly when she could start planning the wedding. You still haven’t recovered from that.
Even with the blessings from both sides, including Chucho and your gramps, you still wanted to just enjoy being with Javi in these intimate carved out spaces.
His presence already is crystallizing here. His wallet and packs of nicotine gum clutter the night stand. His extra pair of sunglasses sit beside yours on the dresser. His faded worn Texas A&M University t-shirt is tossed by the bed and his boots are by the door. You treasure it all.
Javi, now standing in front of you, places the cowboy hat on top of your head.
The familiar presence of wearing it is like greeting an old friend. You bashfully grin at your handsome rancher. Javier’s eyes gloss over you, taking in the sight. His hand moves to tenderly hold your face.
“You look good, like a true damn cowgirl.” He mutters and your heart flutters against its cage.
“Know you can ride like one now too,” his voice dips with a magnetic undertone as his words hold the heavily sexual double meaning.
You playfully smack his shoulder and he smirks.
“I’m still surprised you don’t call me cowgirl instead of bandita.” You note gently.
“Do you mind that I call you that?” One of his eyebrows lifts up curiously.
No, you didn’t mind at all. You were just curious and you even tell him that.
Javi snorts and his thumb now strokes your cheek.
“The way Pop used to talk about you and how you’d race made you sound like some wild bandit trying to outrun outlaws or something.”
You snort now and your fondness for Chucho Peña triples.
“And then,” Javier continues. “When I met you, I knew I was fucked.”
Now your face scrunches up confused and you ask why. A small charming grin tugs his lips.
“Cause the minute I saw you glaring at me in the barn you stole every fucking inch of me.”
Javi’s thumb now moves to run over your lip and desire bubbles in you. You kiss his thumb, delicate and reverent.
“My pretty little bandit.” His voice is low, a fond rumble in his chest that you want to drown in as much as you can.
You think of all the awards you’ve won, the tournaments you’ve faced. Yet they all seem to fall so short to those words, to this man you so endlessly adore.
In your cowboy hat, you yank Javi close and kiss him. Quickly you and him both tumble into your bed sheets, melting against each other in pure bliss.
In the afterglow, you snatch up the cowboy hat again and now place it on Javi’s head. Your gruff rancher's face twists into a grumpy frown and you grin giddy.
“You look good, a classic Texas man.” You compliment him, almost mirroring the words he told you.
His face scrunches up more.
“Always thought I looked stupid wearing these.” He huffs taking off the Stetson.
“Everybody looks good in a cowboy hat.” You reply truthfully and place the hat back on him.
“Especially you.” You add letting your hand slide across his bare chest. The sight of him in the cowboy hat, your cowboy hat, flickers to life the simmering heat from earlier. He’s already so beautiful and now a cowboy hat on, shirtless, with the dimming post sex glow radiating from him, he’s personified sin.
“Cowboy hat doing it for ya, huh?” Javi’s little cocky smirk has you glaring playfully at him.
“Shut up.” You huff but then swiftly kiss him. Soon enough you become one again with the man taking root in your heart.
Early the next morning, when he thinks you’re asleep, Javier’s fingertips trace over your face with butterfly wing delicateness.
“So fuckin’ crazy about you, baby.” He whispers to your unknowing sleeping form. You feel your heart blossom, a morning bloom wanting to keep him tangled in your soul for as long as he’ll stay.
You think again of two lonely birds on the wire, maybe not so lonely anymore.
With a soft kiss goodbye against your forehead Javi heads out and you soak molten in his words.
You end up not seeing him for a few days. Over the phone he explains, annoyed, of having to run around trying to find a specific fence wire and how it’s kept him away.
Even with how much you miss him, it does allow you space.
Earlier this month, you decided on a new training schedule. Each week would alternate between practice at the Peña’s ranch and yours.
Currently practice is at your family’s ranch.
“Next time you talk to that boyfriend of yours, tell him to get tacos from that place he got us lunch from last time.” Your sister yells as she finishes up a few drills around the ring.
You roll your eyes. “He isn’t a food delivery service.”
She simply shrugs.
The day is winding down. Early evening approaches and the Texas sun starts to bathe everything in a golden glaze straight out of a George Strait song.
“You know…I’m happy for you.” As you and her start putting everything away for the day, your sister casually drops that line.
“About what?” You smirk.
“You and Javi.” She clarifies. Her face is messy with sweat but she beams bright. “You deserve someone like him.”
Your sister, always so kind, maybe too kind for a world this harsh sometimes.
“What? Someone who always manages to steal the last biscuit or flirts with grandma more and more everyday?” You tease and your little sister snickers.
“Well yeah. But what I mean is…you deserve someone who sees how great you are.”
Her words crash into you with a tidal wave of emotions. Her attention rests with her horse, getting in a few final brushes before she turns in for the day.
“I know you… think you’re some sort of failure or that you’re not good. But you are. You’re actually the fucking best.” She says so simply. “And I’m happy Javi sees it too.”
Tears clog your eyes and dry out your throat.
“You sound like a bad hallmark card.” You laugh watery but the gratitude flows out.
Your sister glares then throws the grooming brush at you. You laugh harder when she misses and once she’s out of the stable you playfully shove her.
“You heading back?” She notices your slow pace that hangs back.
You reassure her you’ll be home in a minute and just need a few minutes to yourself. With an understanding nod she walks back to the house.
Now alone you head to the very last stable and head to your ace. You miss your old companion and seeing this sweet creature nudge his muzzle against your hand conjures a sad nostalgic tug in your heart.
Grabbing the saddle, and untangling the reign, you head out to the ring.
You’ve been talking about your old rodeo days with Javi a lot recently. You ask him about Columbia as well. In the sacred soft space of pillow talk. you and him gently unravel more memories, more secrets to each other. It’s made you nostalgic, even a bit wistful.
Plus, you haven’t done this in a while. You frequently rode at a leisurely place along the trails by the river from time to time. But getting into the ring is still so sacred.
With your horse all set, you hoist yourself up and onto the saddle.
Just a few laps is all you do. You focus on the sound of the dirt under the hooves, the light breeze on your face, the feel of riding again.
Then, after gaining more confidence, you speed up.
It’s not even close to the speeds you used to hit, but it’s quick. You even make a lap around the ring going this speed.
One rotation, one good lap and you’re soaring.
It’s nothing. It’s not even an attempt to get back into the rhythm of racing. But it’s a ride and home in its own way.
You slow down, let the horse trot out of his groove to calm down. The entire time, your chest feels so light.
Your eyes glance out and then your heart drops.
Javi, with his flat out jaw dropped, stares at you as if you’ve spouted wings. You didn’t even hear him approach.
He breathes out your name.
Scrambling, a bit embarrassed, you quickly dismount, and after guiding the horse to the side you rush towards him.
You’re about to apologize for not noticing him when Javier ends up speaking first.
“You’re incredible.” He exhales in awe and it knocks the wind from you.
He must see whatever emotion colors your face because he repeats himself again firmer.
“You’re amazing, bandita.”
You weakly laugh thanking him.
“Does that mean-”
“Nah,” you gently cut him off and explain how you just enjoy a ride like that from time to time.
“It’s like just taking a casual drive type thing.” You shrug.
Suddenly Javi’s hand moves to rest on your arm leaning against the fence. He rubs so soft and comfortingly.
“Thank you,” he says gently. “For letting me know you.”
You want him to know every inch of you. The same way you want to know Javier in every way that you can. You want to carve out a home in your heart for him.
The hand that was on your arm moves to your cheek tilting your face towards his. He wears his classic aviator sunglasses you’ve grown fond of stealing from him.
He’s so gorgeous. It’s like the Texas sun was made to bask Javi in its glow. He’s a modern Helios, beautifully crafted with his deep earthy eyes and golden face.
“Proud of you, mi bandita.” He mutters with words soaked in adoration.
You swallow hard and let the truth sink into you.
“Thank you Javi… I’m proud of you too.” You earnestly tell him.
He snorts bashfully and you think you might be doomed to think about this man forever now, but it’s alright.
There’s something foreign in your chest growing so bright you feel as if you’ve swallowed a sun and maybe you have. Because Javier is bright, so unexpectedly warm.
A man crafted right out of the Texas golden magic hour.
And as Javi leans forward to kiss you so tenderly, you step forward into the sun, into his kaleidoscopic glow and it’s beautiful.
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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 4 months ago
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Hi! For the ficlet prompts: For Tarlos: 🫶🏻 Breakfast date For BuckTommy: 🛏️ There's only one bed, and it's… a single (or broken? Like sunken down in the center or something. Whichever option sparks joy. 😂)
There's only one bed, and it's a single
A few weeks into their relationship, Buck wonders why Tommy still hasn't invited him over to his house. Somehow, they always seem to end up in the loft, apart form that one memorable date that ended in the 118's locker room – he’s still proud of himself for keeping his mouth shut about it the next day, even though his face probably screamed „ask me what happened last night“. Anyway, Tommy often just turns up at his door or picks him up from work and drives to the loft as a matter of course, and for a while Buck thinks it's just because he likes his place so much. It's tastefully furnished, right? And since he owns a couch again, Star Wars movie nights with Tommy next to him are much nicer.
It's just... Eddie had been so enthusiastic about Tommy's house, the garage, the dōjō; and Buck – Tommy’s boyfriend, mind you – hasn’t even seen a glimpse of all that. There are, of course, many possible explanations for this. Maybe Tommy’s a slob and it's always untidy (Eddie didn't mention this), or he's ashamed of his furniture (Eddie didn't mention this) or he's currently renovating (nope, not a word about that from Eddie). Either these made-up motives are as silly as they sound in Buck's head, or the real reason is him. Both could be true. 
One evening, after a very good dinner (it's perfectly acceptable to praise yourself, Buck thinks, especially after receiving top cooking honors from Bobby), it's time to grab the bull by the horns. 
“We're gonna sleep at your house tonight,” he says.
Tommy sets his glass down, blinks and replies, “We’ve basically just arrived at your place, Evan.”
"Right, but you’re staying overnight at my place about three times a week.“
“Didn't have the feeling that it was too much,” says Tommy with a wink.
Buck is melting away. This man has such a magnetic effect... But not this time, he swears to himself. He's let this slide long enough. If there's one thing he's learned, it's that problems should be addressed. This one isn't necessarily a problem, but it's a little oddity that has piqued his curiosity. And perhaps it also scratches his ego a little.
“No, I love it when you're here,” he says, feeling his cheeks flush. “But Eddie keeps telling me about your house and...”
“What is Eddie doing in this conversation now?” 
Tommy sounds genuinely confused, and he can't blame him. Buck takes a deep breath. 
“I want to see how you live.”
That's not quite the right approach, but at least Tommy smiles his adorable smile, which makes his face go all scrunchy. His answer, however, is not an exuberant “okay, let's get going”. Instead, he says, “That's sweet, but I'm rarely at home. It’s actually not that exciting.”
Somehow, it is, at least it starts getting annoying; Buck's curiosity is hard to tame when he believes he's discovered some kind of riddle. While it’s certainly exciting to see that there still are some things about Tommy that remain mysterious to him, his house shouldn't be on the top list of sweet secrets he holds. 
“I’m getting a vibe that you don't want me there, Tommy.”
“It's not like that.”
“Then what is it? Do you have any porn magazines lying around? Don't you want me to see your underwear drawer?”
“Evan...”
“Are there pictures of your ex-boyfriends on the walls?” Now Buck is on a roll. “Do you collect tasteless art? Is your house just too small for two people to be comfortable?”
“Evan,” Tommy groans. Wide-eyed, Buck glares at him, until Tommy finally exhales loudly and adds, “Yeah, it's too small. You're not going to give it a rest, are you?“
“My therapist says I should talk about my feelings. And there's no one I'd rather do that with than you, Tommy, and right now... well. Honestly, it's driving me crazy.”
“All right,” goes Tommy, getting up and taking his hand, ”there's no point in delaying it any longer anyway. Come with me. We're going to my place – but whether you want to sleep there remains to be seen.”
That, of course, was an even more mysterious answer, but Buck jumps to his feet immediately.
From the outside, Tommy's house looked neither particularly small nor large. The most remarkable thing about the single-storey, flat-roofed building was probably that it stood in the middle of a terraced housing estate in the suburbs. It wasn't an area Buck would have associated with Tommy, and there was probably a story behind it that he was eager to hear one day. 
Inside, it was just as unremarkable. This was the house of a single man who often did 24-hours-shifts and also had very excessive hobbies that made him leave the house quite often. In other words, a comparatively interchangeable place. Eddie hadn't mentioned anything about that either, he'd probably been blinded by the flights to Vegas and the garage. There were no photos of ex-boyfriends on the walls, no obvious porn movies in the impressive DVD collection, no tasteless art; there weren't even any potted plants, “I just don't have a green thumb,” says Tommy. 
“I don't understand why you didn't already show me your house,” Buck says, a little disappointed that he still couldn't solve the puzzle.
“Hm,” Tommy utters, and it sounds almost apologetic. He wraps his arms around Buck and adds, “You're here now.”
„Yes, and I forgot a change of clothes. You’re gonna have to lend me some tomorrow.“
“You're really determined to spend the night here?”
“You bet,” Buck says, his eyes roaming the room, ”show me your bedroom and I'll show you how determined I am.”
“Then get ready for a cold shower,” Tommy returns, taking Buck's hand and leading him further into his house. 
The door opened to another plain, rather functionally furnished room with a built-in wardrobe, a second door that probably led to the bathroom, a large window without any curtains and virtually no accessories. Then Buck’s gaze falls on the bed, and his jaw drops.
“Well, I told you it was small...”
“I thought you meant your house.”
It was the bed. A narrow, single bed. It wasn't an unusual place to sleep, of course; millions of bedrooms were furnished like this. Buck just couldn't understand why anyone would voluntarily give up the comfort of a kingsize when they were tall and beefy like his adorable boyfriend with the very embarrassed look on his face. 
“W-wait a minute. Is that why we always spent the night at my place? Because you’re sleeping in... this crib?”
“Hey, I like this bed,” Tommy replies, grimacing. “It's just not a good place for two. Hold on, what were you thinking, Evan?“
“Well, for a while I thought you just liked my shower...”
“... it's an excellent shower, I must say.”
"Well, to be honest, I thought it’s not that important to you."
Tommy looks intently at his face, shaking his head. 
“Did you seriously think you weren't important enough for me? I thought we had clarified that point by now. And for once, I'm not talking about the excellent sex, honey.“
"Which would be … not that comfortable in that bed," Buck says when the penny finally drops. “Adorable, Tommy. As if the kitchen table wasn't enough for us.”
“But would you want to sleep on it?”
“Good point,” Buck mutters. “We really can't both fit in the bed.”
“Gonna be tough. And… actually, I really prefer your shower.“
“I'll probably have to talk to the landlord about the water consumption.”
"Well, we don’t need to move together so soon," Tommy argues. “But you could help me buy a bigger bed, how about that?”
“Excellent,” says Buck. “But we have to be sure it’s too small for the things I’d love to do with you.”
He pushes the surprised Tommy onto the bed with a casual nudge.
“Fine,” Tommy replies with a grin before closing Buck's mouth with a kiss, ”but we're sleeping at your place tonight.”
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
Thank you for the adorable prompt, @herrmannhalsteadproduction. I'm gonna need to skip the Tarlos one because I'm running out of spare time, but this was fun 😂❤️
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@steddiemas Day 5 - Grumpy vs. Sunshine
pairing: pre-steddie | word count: 830 | rated: T
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“Ugh this is the worst, why is everyone playing Christmas music already? First Melvald’s, then Johnston’s record store, now even the damn arcade is playing this god-awful music.” Eddie grouses, flinging a hand toward the ceiling in general.
“Oh, I see,” Steve laughs, following slowly behind their herd of nerds at Eddie’s side, “It’s fine if I decorate my whole house already, but god forbid anyone else start celebrating?”
“Duh.”
“And why’s that?”
“‘Cause I actually like you, obviously.”
Steve’s heart squeezes in his chest, but he continues to rile up the other man. “Got it, got it; so you don’t like the record store anymore? Don’t like the arcade anymore?”
“I see where you’re going with this and I’m not falling for it. Yes Stevie, Johnston’s and Hawkins’ only arcade have fallen completely out of favor with I, Eddie Munson, for the rest of my days.”
“Okay, so leave.” Steve deadpans, having expected this outcome.
“Also, a declaration like that only works with your full name, Eddie.” Dustin calls back to them.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up you dork.” Eddie waves him off, then changes gears, “So, Steven, what frivolities shall we partake in whilst our hellions engage in their own chaos?”
Steve huffs a laugh, “Okay, okay, hold on, give me a second to try and figure that one out.” he says, pretending to sort through Eddie’s words as if he hasn’t spent enough time around the lot of them to understand what he’d said immediately... “I was going to hit the pinball machine, how about you?” “Ooh perfect!” Eddie rubs his hands together as if that’s something he should be mischievous about. “That SOB S.O.H. is going down today, Stevie. I can feel it.”
So, Steve watches Eddie cajole and smack and tilt and praise the Star Wars branded machine in one of the far corners of the place for the next hour, never getting close to his “sworn arch nemesis” S.O.H.’s high score on the machine. 
“Damn that jerkward!” Eddie complains, kicking one leg of the machine in frustration after his last quarter is gone.
“Jerkwad?” Steve splutters, “No ‘Terrible Archduke bent on World Domination’? ‘Hellbound scum of the earth’? ‘Rancid-breath-having Satan’s-asscrack-smelling bitch of the highest degree’? C’mon man, Eddie Munson can hurl better insults than ‘jerkwad’.”
Eddie just stares at him, mouth agape.
“What? You act like I’ve never spent time around you, Eds. Now get out of the way,” he nudges Eddie out of the way of his machine, and drops a new quarter into the slot. “It’s my turn.”
For the next four hours, Eddie stands rooted to the spot as he watches Steve use a whole three quarters on the machine. The first two times, he beats Eddie’s score, then his own again, stealing the second place spot first from him, then from himself, entering E.M. into the machine each time. 
The last quarter however, the longest game he’s seen yet, Steve manages to beat S.O.H.’s high score. 
“Holy shit!! Steve, you did it! Take that you sonofabitch!” he exclaims, pointing accusatively at the small display scrolling “NEW HIGH SCORE!” in orange letters across it. “You gotta actually put in your initials this time, Stevie.”
Steve just gives him a crooked smile, then shrugs, turning back to the machine to enter an S, an O, and a H into the field.
“No..No, Steve! You can’t let that asshole take the credit! That was your win, Harrington! That wa—” Eddie cuts himself off in realization.
Steve’s still smirking at him. “Yeah, Eds?”
Asshole.
“Hey Steve?”
“Yeah, Eds?” he repeats.
“What’s your middle name?”
Steve grins wider. “Otis. Why? What’s your middle name, Eddie?”
The bastard.
“I…hate you.”
“Aw c’mon Eddie, don’t be like that!” Steve laughs, following him back through the arcade and out the front door.
“I don’t wanna talk to you, I don’t wanna look at you, I don’t wanna—oh gOD fucking damn it!!”
There’s snow falling softly to the wet cement at his feet.
“It’s snowing.”
“Yeah, Steve, thanks for pointing that out.”
“You’re welcome, Eddie.”
Eddie shoots him a glare, only to find the smug bastard smiling at him still. His cheeks are flushed, there’s big clumps of snow in his hair, and he looks so goddamn pretty it hurts.
“Awe, sweet! Snow!” Lucas’ exclamation from behind them breaks Eddie’s reverie of Steve’s unfairly attractive face.
The rest of the party troops out from behind him, each expressing their own excitement about the weather. 
“Oh gross, it’s snowing.”
“Thank you, Mike,” Eddie agrees, pointing at the teen, “At least someone here has some sense.”
There’s a sudden warmth over his shoulder as Steve leans close, “I’ll get you to like Christmas somehow, Eds.” The warmth is gone just as soon as it arrives, Steve peeling away nonchalantly to give him a quick wink before starting to herd the cats.
As improbable as that is, Eddie can’t help but believe him.
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steve being a whiz at pinball comes from this post by @findafight
other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year
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eureka-its-zico · 9 months ago
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A Body of Stars
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Ongoing series
Synopsis: With a galaxy at war, it’s hard to distinguish the stars from the metal of UNSC ships. You were told about the war that waged between the UNSC and insurrectionists; your planet opposing them since you were born. Your enemy was meant to be the UNSC and the Spartans they created, specifically John-117 - the Master Chief. Except, all isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe, and the galaxy holds secrets far darker than you could’ve imagined.
Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader
Genre: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, Halo TV series/Mass Effect mashup
Warnings: mentions of war, violence
Word count: 11.7k
A/N: Alright. As hyper fixations go, the Halo series (and let’s be real, Pablo is a menace) has my ass in a chokehold. That being said, season 2 was amazing and made me want to work on a small fic that blended the series and my love of BioWare’s Mass Effect. Mass Effect is my favorite sci-fi space game about galactic war, friendship, love, sacrifice. I could rant but I won’t. There will be mentions of certain ME things in here, like the reader having biotics, to go along with the lore of the halo series. So, without further ado: its back story time. I hope someone out there enjoys this and as always, thank you for reading 🖤 much love, Jenn
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Year: 2521
•Shadow Sea cluster•
•Lera system•
Destination: Laconix
ETA: 13 hours
The Midsummer Night came out of slip space without a hitch.
Not that he’d been worried. It was one of the few things that Captain Jacob Keyes hadn’t worried about during this current mission. What, or rather who, currently worried him was standing less than ten yards from him and came in the form of his ex-wife. He risked a glance where Dr. Catherine Halsey was hunched over with her nose deep inside another holopad. 
Those holopads had been one of the many reasons why their marriage fell apart. 
There was no doubting the brilliance her work contributed to the scientific field or the war effort. All of her research was the stepping stone humanity needed in terms of augmentation and the human genome. The contributions Halsey and her Spartans made towards this never-ending battle against the covenant saved lives, but, and it was a big but, Jacob knew that Halsey’s methods were questionable, at best. Hell, he’d been a part of those questionable decisions, driving the helm, while she did what she deemed was necessary. 
Vital. 
So, Jacob Keyes knew without her ever having to say a word that something was off. The Midsummer Night and the Pegasus holding Halsey’s darling Spartain-III’s were meant to go for a routine extraction. Intel indicated one of the leaders in the insurrectionist rebel groups, Kahn Montrello, was located on a planet within the Lera system of the Shadow Sea cluster. It was a typical snatch-and-grab unless they were met with resistance. 
Halsey requesting to tag along was more than just a surprise. It was suspicious. Jacob knew Halsey didn’t do anything without purpose.
“Tell me again why you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into a routine mission dealing with insurrectionists?”
Halsey hadn’t even looked up from the damn holopad to acknowledge he’d walked over. 
“I’m just here to gather some data while the Silver Team is dispatched to help your marines on the ground.”
Jacob’s boots scuffed against the metal of the bridge as he moved closer to her. His eyes on Catherine’s back - willing her to turn, to acknowledge him - as her gaze held tightly to the readings she’d taken from a tablet from her lab. The data was transferred to the larger scale computer in the bridge’s main console. Halsey’s eyes roaming endlessly through data Jacob himself knew he’d never understand without her help. 
“Come on, Catherine. That may be the bullshit you fed Parangosky and the other admirals, but don’t feed me the same lies and expect it to go down smoothly.”
Halsey broke away for the briefest millisecond from whatever data she was reading. Her eyes skimmed over him before returning back to what was more important.
Research in the name of human exploration always was.
“It’s not bullshit. Data collected in the field is highly valuable for furthering my research; proof to Parangosky the Spartan research is worth her continued funding.”
“That’s a nice speech, Catherine, but I know that any collected data during the mission is recorded and sent back to your lab for analysis. So, when are you going to start telling me something honest?”
Honesty. 
Asking Halsey to be anything other than secretive was like asking a tiger to get rid of its stripes. Jacob knew even if she told him - really shared - it still wouldn’t be all of the actual information. Key pieces of information - the most valuable - would be forever stored within her; leverage for another day. 
Whatever it was she could see on those holopads had her sky blue eyes wide in excitement. Halsey wouldn’t be able to contain it - hide it - for much longer.  If the small rise at the corner of her mouth was any indication, all Jacob needed to do was push a little further. Find the right words to spark a rush of hypotheticals that might turn out to hold some truth. If she didn’t crack yet, it would take one more well-placed question and she would cave. 
“Jacob,” her voice was breathy, tinged with unrestrained joy. “I think I found something.”
“What are you talking about, Catherine? Found something?”
More cryptics. More hoops. 
A sigh heavy with years of fights - conflicts - departed his lips and Halsey rushed to recover some ground. Her body quickly took back the space he left to place her hand gently on his bicep. The grip was soft but demanding that he stay close; pleading with him not to pull away.
Halsey needed him. 
“A few weeks ago the UNSC sent over old documents from companies they’d disassembled. Conatix was one of them.”
It wasn’t hard to spot the confusion that deepened the lines in the crease of Jacob’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. His eyes roamed her face searching for a tell, but if Halsey had one she’d never show it. 
“Conatix was an old UNSC factory that produced our warships-“
“Yes, I know.”
“Why would you be interested in anything about warships?”
Halsey scanned the room to make sure no one was watching - no eyes lingering on the two of them - before she directed her attention back to him. The caution that darkened her eyes shifted with a spark Jacob knew all too well. 
Halsey had found something. Really found something. 
“Usually, nothing of value would be of interest in old documents and schematics for warships but, while scrolling through the files I stumbled upon an encrypted file.”
“UNSC documentation is always encrypted when it’s being shipped out to-“
“To be destroyed, yes I already know that, Jacob,” Halsey cut in. Her body directed back towards the holopad that she carefully picked up. Her fingers darted across the screen hunting for the files in question. “But this was different. It wasn’t schematics or calculations - it was redacted - sealed documents about an incident.”
No sooner had she started Halsey was finished. Her hand reached out to give him the holopad and waited patiently for him to take it. 
“Go ahead.”
Jacob looked around the ship's bridge to make sure no one was watching. He needed to be careful, not necessarily for Halsey’s sake, but for that of his crew. He should’ve known - did know - Halsey had a habit, a bad one, to go above the chain of command to get what she wanted. That leverage she saved for a rainy day coming in hot to throw around pawns and pieces as she saw fit to get her way. 
Cautiously, Jacob secured the holopad from her and started looking at the documents, or what little he could see. Almost with every swipe all he saw were broken links and documents with holes of information missing. Sentences that formed into two words with the rest gone or replaced by shapes and numbers. An elaborate break in the code. 
“I was able to decipher most of them. Get back what information they tried to hide-“
“Catherine,” he whispered her name in warning, not for himself, but for her. 
“Jacob - this wasn’t about warships or weapons or schematics. Something happened. A ship they’d used with element zero - eezo - had leaked out over a few colonies. A hole in one of the port engines that wasn’t caught in time.”
“Catherine,” Jacob pleaded again, “This isn’t news or anything that concerns you or me.”
Halsey wasn’t going to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. Not when the sheer joy of finding something undiscovered was close. The science behind furthering human evolution. The moment he realized what this was - what he held in his hands - Jacob knew his eyes were saucers. The sudden shock of realization stunning him to the spot. 
“Children, Jacob,” Halsey practically laughed. “The pregnant mothers who were infected by the particles gave birth to children with eezo ingrained into their nervous system. The abilities these files claim they saw…it’s like nothing I’ve ever read.”
In her excitement, Halsey reached out and took a hold of his arm. The startled warmth of her touch was enough to knock Jacob back out of his daze. His eyes skimming one more time over impossible things he saw in diagrams Halsey recreated. 
“Even if that was true, you don’t even know if any of them are still alive or where they are.”
With her lips curved up in victory, Halsey plucked the holopad from his hands. 
“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”
————-
“You get caught staring up at the sky again and Caster is going to throw a fit.”
“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”
Your question wasn’t meant for an answer. The words barely made it above a whisper while you kept watch on the green hued light that streaked across the sky like a river. Calling it green felt like you were doing it a disservice. You knew it was more than that - the way it moved with purpose across the endless blue above. The different shades that reminded you of the grass on which you stood and dark as the forest that surrounded you. 
“Come on,” Thao called over his shoulder. Your name calling from his lips like it would be enough to coax you forward. “I want to get back to actually enjoy what little of my day I have left.”
“You can enjoy it now,” you reminded him. 
It took a few more seconds - another millisecond after that - for your eyes to turn back to the world around you. The snap of a branch somewhere off to your right informing you Thao had taken off without waiting for you to catch up. 
“Not when my friends are back at the colony having fun without me. And I’m out here looking for dumb ass yaks.”
A small tut of disapproval clicked at the roof of your mouth. Your stride easily brings you closer to the shorter eleven-year-old boy. It allowed you to gently ruffle his hair. Your efforts were greeted by a grunt of annoyance with his hand grabbing at your wrist to gently shove you away. 
“And just think, you would be there now, doing whatever it is you troublemakers do, if you and your friends hadn’t set a flare off inside Caster’s hut. And don’t disrespect the yaks.”
Thao’s eyes disappeared inside his head as your elbow gently nudged his shoulder. You must be making some kind of progress, because this time he made no move to push you away. 
“Old man deserved it. Always hoarding the chicken eggs.”
“He owns the chickens.”
“So?”
“So,” you drawled, “it means he owns the eggs. Owning the eggs also means he gets to distribute them however he sees fit.”
“How is that fair? You know he gave Lydia and her kids three eggs last week? Three eggs. What is a family of five supposed to do with that? It’s not right.”
You knew what Thao meant. You understood the feeling of anger that burned into sadness and ultimately to the ash of defeat. Kahn allowed those who proved useful in the fight against the UNSC to have a majority hold on most of the items in the colony. Those who allowed themselves to be shuffled around an unseeable chessboard like pawns. 
Willing to die, to give up everything, at his disposal. 
All in the name of fighting a government who grew more powerful everyday. The UNSC sharing their own videos of propaganda that showed thousands upon thousands of soldiers equally willing to die for a cause, and Spartans being the unmovable force needed to shift any battle back into the UNSC’s favor. It was this very reason Kahn looked for those desperate enough to join, to do anything he asked, to win. 
A devoted father agrees to be a walking bomb to blow up a UNSC building? His family is rewarded with food, wood, and blankets to help make it through the harsh winters. Attempting to infiltrate a building to release a virus, whether you were caught or not, Kahn took care of your family. It could be with livestock, guns for protection, or even the yaks whose pelts made the biggest profit at the markets. 
Every loss of life was just another reminder of the men and women who slowly disappeared from the colony. A senseless loss of life. You were still trying to figure out what it was for; what purpose you hadn’t been able to see, because for every life lost in the pursuit of justice against the USNC, their numbers only grew. The colony's numbers, however, weren't so lucky. 
“You could turn this war around.”
“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”
You swiftly whipped your head to the side to rid yourself of the memory. Your eyes narrowing on the green rolling hills on the other side of the treeline. That was where you would find the yaks grazing. You gently patted Thao’ss shoulder - for whatever comfort it would give - before you moved forward to take point. 
“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”
“See! Even you agree,” Thao huffed out your name. His small body broke into a jog to match your hurried step. “If anyone in the colony would be able to kick his ass, it would be you.”
Your feet were turning before you’d even realized it. Your body answered the piercing spike of adrenaline in your blood with your hands shooting out to grab his shoulders. The action made you crouch a couple inches until you were face-to-face with Thao. Your eyes scanned wildly across his features reading nothing but uncertainty. 
“Don’t ever say something like that out loud again, Thao. Do you understand me?”
“I was only saying-“
“I know what you're trying to say. The answer is no, and if Kahn or any of his dumbass lackies ever heard you even mention something like that we are both as good as dead.”
“But-“
“Tell me you understand!”
If anyone asked why you felt the sudden surge of panic ripple over your skin, you wouldn’t be able to say, or  place where it stemmed from. Technically, the both of you were out in the safety of the mountain fields and away from the prying eyes of Kahn’s dictatorship. Lost behind a sea of forest, the rolling fields of green, and poppies that puddled around you like blood. 
You’d seen what Kahn and his insurrectionists were capable of. Any whisper - false or not - and the person went missing. Kahn ruled the colony with the fear generated by the UNSC, but cultivated his own like the boogeyman. 
“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”
Thao shrugged out of your hold and turned away from you. His pre-teen feet stomped a path out of the tree line and out into the field. A sigh left you, worn and heavy, as you watched his retreat. 
I Should’ve been softer…
You let out a huff of air as a hand scrubbed over your face. It was supposed to be a simple ‘herd the yaks back to the colony’ type of day. Not grovel to one of the only people - kid or not - who wasn’t afraid of you. 
It was your turn to jog after his retreating form. Quickly, you noticed that he didn’t even look up to acknowledge your presence. He wasn’t sending jokes about being an old lady (you were twenty-four, thank you very much) whose brittle bones could snap under the strain of being a person. You would’ve taken being called an old lady than suffering through the silent treatment. 
Gently, you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. When he didn’t turn you tried again and again until, finally, you were rewarded with him turning an annoyed side-eye in your direction. You gave him your best apologetic smile and carefully looped your arm around his shoulders to bring him in close. 
“I’m sorry. Okay? I was kind of an asshole.”
“A major asshole.”
“Okay. I’ll accept that major part but only for today.”
“If there was an asshole award, you would’ve taken home the prize-“
“Okay, geez. I get it.”
You both settled into a comfortable pace with your arm still draped over his shoulders. Your mind raced back to the last time you’d been able to do this.  Thao had been younger - shorter - and with the rate he was growing, you soon might not be able to reach him. Soon, Thao might not care for your company. 
“You know, I am surprised you didn’t fracture an ankle running after me at your tender age.”
“Alright, that’s enough for today,” you grumbled in mock annoyance. 
You ended up having to shove him away just to try and hide the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. The sound of Thao’s laughter at your weak attempt at being mean - he 100% knew it took way too much to even make you raise your voice - made the crack of a smile begin to form. 
The yaks were about another ten or so feet ahead of you both. Their massive bodies moved in slow steps while they grazed along the long grass. You weren’t sure if it was their adorable long bangs that made it impossible for them to notice you right away (doubtful) or if they just didn’t consider either of you a threat (possible). Either way, they didn’t startle as the two of you closed the remaining distance. Didn’t jump up to try and kick or gore either of you with their horns when Thao produced the ropes from his satchel. 
It took a grand total of ten minutes, maybe less, to have all seven of the yaks securely held in makeshift collars from the rope. Their large bodies begrudgingly followed the two of you as you gently pulled the lead, forcing them to give up their meal of dewy grass and follow you back through the treeline. 
“You know,” Thao cautiously began, his eyes skimming between you and the trees. “This might be a lot faster if you just…ya know, float them up.”
“Float them up?”
“With your blue magic.”
This time you weren’t able to hide your smile as you shook your head. 
“It’s called biotics, Thao, not blue magic.”
“Blue magic sounds waaaay cooler than ‘biotics’. Who even came up with that lame name, anyway.” 
“You can thank the good folks at Conatix for that one.”
One of the yaks pulled back on its lead forcing you to give a slight tug back. You could understand if they were tired after eating, but you really didn’t have time in your schedule for yak naps. A huff of air came from the nostrils of the yak to drive home that it wasn't happy not having its nap. Or maybe it was the berry bush it was after, either way, napping and eating stops were prohibited. 
You weren’t aware the conversation had died until Thao’s voice interrupted the silence. 
“Is it true that you were born like that?”
His question was timid - afraid he would upset you. You were used to the questions; the stares. You remember sitting with your parents in a room, about Thao’s age, when Conatix came back around trying to clean up their mess. Said mess being spilling eezo from their ships across planets that later infected children. While some pregnant mothers had children like you, exposed to element zero in the womb creating a nervous system made of eezo, a majority were far less lucky. Children born riddled with tumors or horrific physical complications that left them in pain their entire lives. 
You were supposed to be a lucky one. 
One of the lucky ones they’d been trying to take back with them to their laboratories. A lucky one meant to be bought by a substantial fee that your parents quickly declined. It was the last choice they ever got to make for you before they mysteriously died in a tragic accident off-world. 
“Yes.”
You didn’t feel lucky and maybe it was the way the words crumbled out of your mouth. The way they sat suspended in the air in a swirl of regrets and dead wishes that Thao knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about your past or anything that reminded you that what you are - who you are - has felt like one big burden. You wondered, most nights, if there was a possibility that curses could be born. 
————
The rest of the walk back was filled with an awkward silence. You weren’t sure if it was one you’d made by your lack of response, or if Thao no longer felt like talking. A part of you feared the image he’d held of you since he was young, full of mystery that made you seem cool, was slowly becoming destroyed. You knew it was a matter of time before it happened.
You were an anomaly. 
Children saw you as magical, while adults believed you could perform some kind of mind control or read their thoughts. It was the main reason Kahn wanted you to join the resistance. Who wouldn’t want someone who could read thoughts and control minds on their team? You’d know when and where attacks could happen and make them blow up their ships from the inside. Unfortunately, for Kahn, the only thoughts you could read were your own and, as of right now, they were desperately shouting at you not to lose one of the few friends you had left. 
Even if they happened to be a young boy who was notorious for being the most talkative kid in the colony. 
With a few more steps up the hill, you both came to a stop at the top of the hill. You took in the thatched roofs of the huts that lay scattered in a misshapen circle of rows. The outer ring of homes were made of clay and the only splash’s of color came from designs being painted on the sides of homes or flowers planted in the yard. 
The middle ring was meant to be for men like Kahn and his commanders; men and women of importance so that they lived closer to the final, smaller ring, of storefronts and farmers. The middle circle was left open and featured a large walkway down the center of town and out into the hills. 
Kahn specifically had the colony built this way. The walkway was the most important, because Kahn believed it was good for his people to be able to watch those that fought for their freedoms return from another victory against the UNSC. You knew it was more about parading around having people kiss his ass than for uplifting any kind of morale. 
It was the same path that Thao and you took now as you brought in the yaks from the mountains. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you got them back inside their pen and with the irritated snorts and tugs on their leashes, the yaks knew it too. The sound of multiple small feet came rushing in on Thao’s side and the faces of a few village children came into view. They made sure to stop just before they got in the way of a yak. 
“Thao, can you come play?” 
“Not yet. I have to finish this choir for Caster.”
A lot of groaning ensued and you felt your free hand reach over the back of a yak. Your fingers waving for him to give you his leashes. Thao’s brow raised in question and you only answered him by pointing at the leash and waving him again to hand it over. 
“Hurry up and give them to me before I change my mind.”
You were trying to be grumpy. The way any elder in town would complain about the youth of today being too soft and not knowing the meaning of hard work and blah blah. You were sure they were all just stuck in super grouchy mode from having to be an adult with responsibilities for too long. And because of that, you knew, instead of looking grumpy, a smile was already brightening up your face. Thao’s face lit up in response and his eyes darted - unsure - from up the path and back to you. 
“Are you sure? Caster -“
“Will never know that you didn’t help bring them all the way back. Now, like I said, hand over the lead before I suddenly have a fit of amnesia.” 
He didn’t need further prompting. Thao’s hand smashed the remaining leashes into your waiting palm and turned on his heel to run off with the other kids. A soft, “thank you,” calling out behind him. 
You didn’t waste any more  time watching their retreating backs as they tore down a small alleyway between huts. You had your own things that you still needed to finish today. As you continued on your way, you greeted people who were outside in their gardens or hanging up laundry. Some of them returned your greetings of, “Hello,” with grunts with their backs turned to you or hurried inside. Apparently, if they didn’t look you in the eye or were behind the safety of a wall it kept you from using your mind control powers. 
You were willing to bet Kahn had something to do with that latest lie about your make believe abilities. If you wouldn’t fight for him, why not cause a little mass panic in your presence. You being the monster and him, the hero, forcing you to toe the line. No ‘mind reading’ unless it was for the ‘cause’. 
As you neared the pen in front of Caster’s shop, you started to rotate the leashes tighter in your hands. You were positive if the yaks felt a slack in their leash, they would attempt a revolt. They also weren’t the biggest fan of the metal pen of broken down ships Caster created to house them; the metal of an old hatch door from a USNC frigate - rusted and covered in moss - groaned as it opened. A sound the yaks knew well and instantly sent their hooves stamping into the muddy grass. 
“Alright, ladies, I don’t want any trouble. It’s time to get your butts back in here - whoa!”You shot around with a start as one of the yaks gently bumped its nose against your back sending you forward towards the pen. “None of that,” you mumbled. Your index finger pointing at your chest then back to every single one of them. “Your home, not mine. Now go.”
With a cautious glance over your shoulder you took a step forward leading the herd inside. It wasn’t until you’d begun to remove their leashes that the familiar sound of a man clearing his throat brought your gaze up to search the fence. It didn’t take long for you to find Caster leaning against it. An arm hanging over while the other held up whatever self-righteous bullshit questioning he was about to spew. 
“Where’s Thao?”
“He helped me bring them here, Caster. I sent him on his way once we reached the pen.”
“That’s not what he was told to do and you don’t have any authority to change orders.”
Every word reached you like a slap in the face. Caster’s irritation was evident with the click of his tongue. You tried to keep your face neutral; your gaze fixed on one of the yak's as your fingers ran through the tangled fur. You gave one final pat to signal your departure before you walked back to the pen’s exit. 
“I wasn’t aware Thao had to be the specific individual to deliver a bunch of yaks inside the pen.”
“Bullshit,” Caster snarled your name. His body closing the distance between you as you stepped through the pen entrance. “You can try and play dumb with me all you want, but we both know you aren’t that damn dense. Thao can’t shut up even for a second in his sleep, and you’re trying to tell me the boy magically didn’t complain the whole time he was with you?”
Caster invaded what little space you had once you stepped fully out from behind the pen. The door hadn’t even closed yet before Caster rushed you, attempting to trap you between him and the metal. The cold gray of his eyes roamed your face waiting for you to break at his intimidation. 
One of the Shadow Sea’s three moons would have to explode first before that ever happened. 
You jammed the cool metal of the pens chains into his chest. You didn’t bother to see if he would catch it when you released it. You knew he would, and when Caster did, you made sure to take a step towards him forcing the older man two options; hold his ground or back up. You weren’t surprised when he did the latter. 
“You’re right, Caster, I’m not that damn dense. Close up your own fucking pen.”
You didn’t give him the chance to reply. The first step you took forced him to take another step back, your shoulder ramming into his as you pushed your way past him. 
Could you have gone around? 
Yes, but, no matter what, it felt a lot better being petty for a couple of seconds than pretending for a second you cared. 
It didn’t take Caster long to find his bearings. The sound of the chains rustling in his hands and a slew of curses thrown at your back were the first to greet you before he yelled after you: “Just wait until Kahn hears about this!”
“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.
You were willing to bet no matter how the exchange between Caster and you went, Kahn was always going to hear how it went. Good or bad. Caster yelled something else at your retreating back. You responded with a wave and continued back down the main path before you veered off course into a smaller path. It was one you knew well since you were a child. One you knew led to your grandparents' hut. 
Smoke rose from the clay chimney and you knew, before you entered through the doorway, you’d find your grandfather working to dry his latest clay pots by the fire. Your grandmothers weathered fingers working tirelessly with a needle and her beadwork scattered over the small table. It was only a few days before everyone with goods left to try and sell them at the Market. You moved through the small space stopping to kiss the top of your grandmother’s head before you gently took over for your grandfather. 
“And where did you run off to this morning?” 
You didn’t have to look up to feel the weight of your grandfather’s stare. His scrutinizing eyes waiting for you to give him a response knowing full well it wasn’t going to be the one he wanted.
“There is no need to worry, grandpa. I was nowhere and everywhere all at once.”
“That sentence alone turned what little hair I have left white.”
“All of your hairs’ already white.”
“Precisely my point,” he groaned. 
The soft chuckle of your grandmother cut through the tension in the small room. Your eyes now directed to the open flame and focused on turning the pot slowly with the tongs. The last thing you wanted to hear on top of giving your grandfather white hair and an early grave was ruining a pot he’d worked on most of this morning. 
“Would you two stop it? I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for why she was missing this morning. Don’t you dear?”
Your grandmother sent a coy look in your direction and you couldn’t wait to completely crush her dreams. While your grandfather believed in hard work, your grandmother believed in finding a good spouse who could provide for the imaginary great grandchildren she’d already named. 
Either that or joining the resistance. 
“I was out helping Thao rally up the yaks that ran away this morning.”
A sigh so heavy escaped from your grandfather’s chest that you could’ve sworn all your ancestors before you joined him. 
“And there it is.”
The soft call of your name forced your attention back to where your grandmother now sat idle. Her hands placing the beadwork and adjoining needles on the table. Her small frame turned on the bench to make sure she had your full attention. 
“I’m happy you want to help but you already know Kahn will-“
“Will throw a bitch fit. Yeah, yeah, I know.”
A smack on your arm sent you jolting back in surprise. Your eyes cautiously roaming over to your grandmother to see if she was going to hit you again. With how tightly her lips were pressed together, you had a feeling, with some of the things that came from your mouth, the possibility of her doing it again was imminent. 
“Whether you like him or not, Kahn is our leader.”
“No, he is your leader. Kahn will never be mine. A real leader doesn’t sacrifice their people to gain information or so they don’t get locked up inside a UNSC prison.”
“And do you think there is someone more fit to lead if he was gone? Who do you think would run the rebellion?”
“Plenty of more competent individuals could step forward to take his place if he wasn’t aro-“
You realized you sounded like Thao who, hours before, you’d shushed him into complacency. Your fear for his safety was paramount over how right his words might have been. And here you were doing the exact same thing inside your grandparents hut. 
“Enough!” 
Your grandfather wasn’t known for raising his voice and when he did it was usually out of desperation; a fear that surpassed anger that delved into worry from the unknown. You could see it now etched into every wrinkle that creased in the sagging skin of his sunburnt face. The way he tried to hold onto the anger before it was swept away by something he wouldn’t voice in fear of giving it a name. 
“Whether you like it or not, Kahn runs this settlement. He is the only one working here to free us from the tyrant that is the UNSC! At least he is doing something, which is more than I can say for my own granddaughter!”
“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned. 
“So you want me to just let him use me like some kind of weapon?”
You no longer cared about holding the pinchers over the fire or the clay pot - your grandfather's life’s work - held delicately between them. As you stood up from the stool you dropped the pinchers and the sound of clay cracking tapered over your shuddering breathing for just a moment. You moved away from the fire towards a corner of the room closest to the door. The thunder in your ears drowning out the shouts of your grandmother; your eyes coming in and out of focus as you tried to ease the panic from your veins. 
It would only take a second - a fatal second of panic to fill the room with a cobalt hue of flame that would ruin everything. 
“Kahn offers you a way to use your gift, to teach you how to use it, and better help our people and you spit in his face!” He hissed. “Your parents gave their life for the cause-“
“And what has Kahn given!?” You hadn’t meant to scream. Each word laced with a grief stricken with rage that only bloomed brighter over time. “He asks families to give their husbands, wives, their children to fight his battles and what the fuck does he do for us?!”
“Why can’t you ever see that you can help save us? Kahn can help teach you how to control it.”
“Help me control it or control me?”
“You ungrateful child.”
His words hissed through the air and buried themselves in the hollow of your chest. Your feet involuntarily took a step back, ready to flee the hut, ready to find peace in the hills of the forest when the collective raised shouts of the villagers rang out from behind the walls. 
“UNSC vessels spotted!”
It was the distraction you needed to escape the hut. The shouts of worried men and women pushing you to rush outside and greedily take gulp after gulp of fresh air until the flare, the warmth, of your power began to dig back inside your skin. When you dragged your gaze away from the grass you were greeted with villagers running back and forth. The ones who sprinted down the open lane back out towards the open forest only ended up coming back moments later. 
You made your way out into the crowd, weaving in between the bodies to get to the heart of the circle their bodies created. They all stood in large huddled groups; mothers clutching their children and the able bodied men moving in front of them, in front of everyone, to try and guard them. The villagers who tried running down the main road were coming, as if herded, back to the center of the village. You didn’t understand why they were all running back to the middle. 
This was a kill zone. 
Strategically the worst place to be for any of the resistance fighters if they were going to make any attempt to fight back. It wasn't until you made it to the middle that your earlier rage turned to ice as you watched the UNSC marines, and four very big fucking Spartans, make their way up the middle. 
If Spartans were here you knew no one stood a chance. A fight would be suicide. You needed to get back to your grandparents. You needed - 
“Attention settlers of the Lera system of Laconix: I am Captain Jacob Keyes of the USNC. We have viable intel that led us to believe that you are harboring a fugitive by the name of Kahn Montrello - a known insurrectionist. We are asking for your cooperation in this matter. We can resolve this matter peacefully, with no need to resort to any unnecessary violence.”
“Screw you! You have no jurisdiction here or any outer colonies.”
Fred. That was his name. Maybe. You didn’t know - couldn’t remember. Your brain couldn’t think past your own rushing pulse or speeding thoughts. He was just pushing past the crowd with angry shouts and limbs flying while he moved towards them. You watched as he made his way towards the marines like a man on fire, and was met by a Marine who burned brighter. The butt of their gun cracking against his cheek sent him spiraling to the ground. 
You weren’t sure if you were already panicked or if the sight of blood seeping through his fingers caused it. No matter what the real reason was you knew there was no getting around whatever came next. Like a swarm of locusts, the marines fanned out and moved forward. Their bodies corralled the villagers tighter together and kept any hope of escape at bay. 
It was the perfect time for Kahn to make his appearance. His form practically glided from between a lake of terrified bodies frozen in fear, clutching one another, as he opened his arms in welcome. 
“You say you wish us no violence, only want our cooperation, and yet attack a simple working man.”
“You need to stay where you are or you will be taken down with force,” a marine answered, their gun trained on Kahn who continued to take careful steps forward. 
He responded with his hands showing he wasn’t armed. Kahn made a show to come to a stop in front of Captain Keyes. 
“Maybe that was advice you should’ve opened with, Captain Keyes.”
Kahn was treating this like a joke. He was wearing that easy smile of his displaying he didn’t have a care in the world. He was either suicidal, genocidial in willing to let them completely kill the colony or, you realized with a sickening drop in your stomach, Kahn had another plan. 
“And you are?”
“I’m Malcom. Another humble merchant who lives here.”
Liar! 
The panic that settled like lead inside your gut dropped heavier, threatening to upend whatever was left from your morning breakfast. You didn’t have to guess what his plans were, because Kahn was laying them bare for everyone to see. The only difference between you and everyone else is that whoever he chose to sacrifice for the name of his ‘revolution’ would be met with silence. 
Captain Keyes outlined Kahn’s frame with suspicion and a pebble of hope was thrown your way. Maybe he could sense the lie that costed Kahn’s words. Maybe it would be enough for him to call bullshit. 
“Okay, Malcolm. And what is it you’re wanting?”
“I want nothing, Captain. I just want to show you exactly who you are looking for.” 
Kahn never intended to point the finger at himself - why would he when there were dozens of men brainwashed to think their sacrifice mattered. You followed his finger like everyone else drawn to the imaginary string he pulled and waited to see what poor fool he chose this time. 
Except this time - no…NO! 
It was your grandfather who took a step forward out of the dozens of bodies. The wooden tip of his cane met the ground with a depth of a shovel digging a grave with each step. Your grandmother reached out her arms - called for him to come back - but he continued to make his way forward. His head held high like he was making a decision everyone should be proud of. 
“I am Kahn Montrello. The man you seek.”
Captain Keyes took one look at your grandfather and you could see the disbelief reflected in his eyes. The way they darkened further on a decision you, or anyone else, would ever be made aware of until he made it. 
“I’ve never known an insurrectionist leader to give themselves up so willingly.”
Thank god Captain Keyes was smarter than he looked. Your grandfather, however, wasn’t backing down. He squared his shoulders and planted his hands coolly over the hilt of his cane. His head held high enough for his next words to strangle him. 
“Any leader should be willing to give themselves up for the safety of their people. Is that what you can offer me, Captain Keyes? The safety of my colony if I come willingly?”
“What are you doing?”
You were sure it was the panic that surged you forward. How you found yourself taking step after step until you were out from behind every last villager and into the clearing with Kahn and your grandfather. 
“Stay back!”
“Don’t take another step forward!”
You were vaguely aware of the commands being slung your way. The arms that lifted weapons as you took scrambling steps towards your grandfather who only looked on with distaste. 
“Go back with the others. I won’t tell you again.”
It was the voice he’d used countless times since you were a child. A voice that radiated with authority that now only showcased his age. A part of you wanted to follow his orders and run to your grandmother’s side. To be a good granddaughter and comfort her the way she needed. 
But she wouldn’t need comforting if Kahn wasn’t such a fucking coward. 
“No!”
He hissed your name as he nervously looked out over the marines. At Captain Keyes.
“Be good and do as you're told.”
“I won’t let you do this!”
“And I don’t need your permission-“
“What about grandma? You’re just going to leave her like this?”
“I wasn’t aware Kahn Montrello had grandchildren?” Keyes quipped. 
You could see your grandfather open his mouth to reply and you made sure to cut him off before he could say another lie. 
“That’s because he doesn’t because Kahn -“
“Apologies, Captain Keyes,” Kahn cut in. “This girl is unwell. Ever since she lost her parents -“
“Don’t you dare speak about them.“
“-she’s been desperately trying to cling to anyone willing to call her family.”
You weren’t aware you were moving forward until you heard the shouts from the marines; the gasps of fear from your own people. You were vaguely aware of the tingle of heat that moved like a shockwave from your fingertips up your arms until it consumed you. In another time, a different life, maybe you would’ve been aware that your biotics had flared to life and enveloped you in what looked like cobalt flame. 
A fitting image for the one Kahn so lovingly painted for you. An unhinged woman filled with crazy fantasies and a desperation for family.
The only thing you could focus on was Kahn who stood before you. The coward who easily was willing to give your grandfather up to the UNSC knowing what they do to insurrectionist leaders. The unspeakable torture done to collect secrets, and their executions televised on every available feed for all to see. 
With the thought of your grandfather’s future weighing behind your eyes you lashed out. Your hand rising forward to catch Kahn midway in taking a step back. Your biotics held him suspended in the air. You were vaguely aware of what sounded like your grandfather calling your name. The wood of his cane crunching through dirt and leaves to rush to you. 
There was more shouting - orders being relayed and metal clicks of safeties being released - and you knew chaos was about to ensue. 
“Spartan’s your orders are to grab the insurrectionist known as Kahn Montrello. Marines focus on providing backup and subduing any and all threats.”
A wash of relief rippled through you. The UNSC had come to their senses. They  must have realized Kahn for the liar he was. Captain Keyes caught on that the rouse Kahn created with your grandfather was all a lie. 
Except that wasn’t what happened. 
The marines who fanned out around the clearing were now moving in towards one sole target: you. The Spartans who Keyes sent forward to capture Kahn weren’t headed in your direction, but towards your grandfather who was visibly shaking as he watched two of the UNSC’s giants - their most powerful weapons - move towards him. 
“No! You have it all wrong! He isn’t Kahn!”
You released the hold you had on Kahn. No longer was he held suspended in the air as you sent his body flying towards the marines. Your feet were digging into the soil, pitching you forward in a hard sprint, as you barreled blindly towards your grandfather. You could hear him warning you to stay back - ‘stay away’ - but you never were good with doing what you were told. 
The closest Spartan,only identified by the numbers 028 on her chest, was almost on him. They were so close it would only take a couple more inches and this Spartan would grab a hold of him and you would lose him. Forever.
You were running on pure adrenaline. Your vision honed in on nothing else but the hand of the Spartan that reached out to grab at his arm. If they got a hold of him, that was it. You called on every cell of energy in your body, your arm drawing back - nerves frying - as the eezo inside your body compacted in the space around you, changing it into a powerful ball that you launched with a scream. The Spartan barely had time to react when the cobalt sphere of element zero slammed into her suit and sent her flying back. 
“Riz!”
You had a split second to make half a shield before the second Spartan’s fist slammed against it. The impact snapped like a shockwave of its own. The force of impact sent your feet sliding back against the dirt. The sound of heavy footsteps following your rolling body forced you to spring to your knees as you called on another surge of element zero and sent it flying like a fastball. 
It slammed into the Spartan but, unlike the first one, it barely slowed them down. The impact crackled against the air and the force field around his armor allowing your biotics to push them back only a few feet. It was all the feet you needed to scramble on all fours to your grandfather, who was kneeling in a heap in the dirt. 
As soon as you slide in next to him, you put up a small force field - a bubble of blue that encapsulated you both just in time before bullets bounced against the shield. Gently, you secured an arm underneath his shoulders and tried to lift him up to you. All while your right hand stayed pressed against the barrier you’d created. Your arms shaking with the strain of holding back another round of gunfire and the slamming fists of a very big, very angry, Spartan. 
You were running out of time. The strain of keeping the barrier up, of using powers you usually never touched, left a noticeable trail of perspiration to crown your forehead. If you kept this up much longer, you knew the nosebleeds would start soon. 
“Come on grandpa. We have to get up now. We gotta get you out of here.”
“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”
A heavy wave of memory, weighted with emotions thick and stifling, threatened to knock you off balance. The last time your grandfather had ever called you that, was before your parents died. When you were allowed the luxury of childhood innocence and the imagination that the world held the beauty of magic before it was destroyed by the gravity of reality. 
“That’s not going to happen, grandpa. I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose you too.”
Your body jerked with the next slam of a fist against the barrier. The impact sent a shutter down into the marrow of your bones and snapped at your nervous system. The pain was immediate and tore a gasp from you. 
“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you choose to be.”
“No.” 
You shook your head violently forcing him to reach out to steady you. The soft leather of his hand cupped your cheek quieting your protests and forced you to keep your eyes on him. 
“I’m sorry for what I said. Earlier. I just - I just wanted what was best for you. I always have. But…only you know what is best for your life. Never stop fighting. Don’t be afraid of who you can be.”
“Why are you talking like this? This isn’t goodbye grandpa. Come on, I have to get you back to grandma. She’s going to be pissed if you just stay here.”
But it was, wasn’t it? You’d felt it when your hands touched the layers of shawls that draped over his chest. It was wetter than it should’ve been. His eyes glassy and unfocused and struggling to keep them on you while he spoke. Somehow, you’d been a few moments too late when the bullets came your way, and those few seconds allowed the hollow point of a bullet to find a hole in the center of his chest. 
Blood covered your left hand as another sharp synopsis of pain resonated through your nervous system. Spartan 028, Riz, was back up and hammering away at the sphere of the barrier you’d created. The pain should’ve been unbearable but nothing compared to the last gasp of air that shuddered from your grandfather. It couldn’t compare to the feeling of his body, lifeless, and sagging towards the earth where the weight forced you to place him. 
None of this would’ve happened if Kahn wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t use people, the very people he claimed were his. People he swore to defend and liberate - for his own gain. 
The anger swelled brighter inside like a raging flame. Every beating your nervous system took holding up the barrier became a dulled sensation as you struggled to breathe around the loss of your grandfather. 
The Spartans had stopped but didn’t move back. A woman was off to your right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Smiling like she was friendly but the mock kindness didn’t reach her eyes. They were bright with excitement; the way hunters spotted prey. A scientist finding a new object to dissect. 
“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”
Of course she was. She wanted to dissect you. The same way the scientists from Conatix tried many years ago by trying to buy you from your parents. She was saying your name but she had no right to it. 
This Dr. Halsey. 
False smile given under false pretenses. Just like Kahn has his fancy glittering speeches that kept hopes high and results low. 
“We don’t want to harm you. If you are willing to come peacefully we promise we will leave the colony immediately. No further bloodshed needs to happen.”
The part of you that wasn’t soaked in grief agreed. It was the best call to make - the right call. It promised no more suffering would happen. It meant your grandmother would be safe. 
Your grandmother. A woman who lost her son. Her husband. Now her granddaughter. Who would watch her if you left? The thought alone sprang a sharp refusal to your tongue until you stood, your eyes cast down at the warm body of your grandfather. In that moment, whatever reasonable human being you used to be ceased to exist. The only thing left was rage. 
Dr. Halsey must have noticed. No longer was she crouched to be eye level with you. She returned to her full height. Her hands placed out in front to shield herself, as if that would be enough to stop what happened next. 
“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.” 
Your reply came in a scream that crawled its way from the pit of despair that had lodged itself inside your heart. The loss of your parents, the death of your grandfather,  and for your grandmother who would be alone. You used that hurt, bitterness, and rage and used it to erupt your shield into a burst of biotic energy that detonated like a bomb. The sheer force alone sent the Spartans back. 
It wasn’t enough but you only needed a minute or two. Just enough time for you to send your biotics crackling along the air in a line until it grabbed a hold of Kahn and pulled him like a slingshot of force back towards you. When he was close enough, you dropped your left hand that you’d use to control the pull of his body, and cocked back your right arm, your palm open, and launched it forward. The slam of the biotics hit home at the center of his chest launching Kahn back through the scrambling crowd of people, with the sickening crack of his sternum mixing with the scream that tore from your throat.
It was all the time you had before the Spartan marked with 117 came into view. His armored fist closes in like a warthog at full speed against your cheek, sending your body spiraling into the dirt. You could feel the earth shift with tremors as he moved to follow you. You could taste the blood from the hit and wondered if your jaw was broken. If you just lost a whole row of teeth. 
“John, Incapacitate her only! I need her to be brought back with us. Alive.”
For a glorious moment, your blurred vision swirled only with the uninterrupted view of the sky before the cameo green of Master Chief, savior of the galaxy - or John - 117 -  helmet came into view. A joke was brewing on the back of your tongue, covered in humor and blood before his fist came crashing down your line of sight, and the world became blissfully quiet.
_________
You found that the darkness wasn’t as quiet as you’d hoped.
The impact from the punch the Maater Chief, or John - 117 as that woman called him,  had launched you into what felt like a nightmare. Held hostage by a paralysis of your own mind. Unable to change the forms of what you saw. The images were vivid. The sounds carried a weight that sat heavy like lead in your skull. It made you miss the pain of being conscious. 
You weren’t sure if the screams that bounced around inside your head were real or if they were just a part of the nightmare. Over and over your broken mind played out the moment a Marine’s bullet found a hole inside  your grandfather's gut. 
No matter how fast you ran, if you launched yourself in front of him, you were never fast enough. Each step you took sunk deeper into the earth as if your legs were trying to race through quicksand. Your own biotics mysteriously grew quiet - refusing to work for the first time in your life. 
No matter what the outcome never changed. Your grandfather was gone, and there was no time travel to head back and change that startling fact. 
A sickening lurch, one you knew meant a ship was coming out of slipspace, sent the contents of that morning’s breakfast swirling in your stomach. You barely had time to register that it was real, the nausea, and that you were really about to throw up. You’d barely rolled to your side before said breakfast displayed itself onto a very shiny metal floor. 
As soon as you finished, you rolled back onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the fluorescent lights, the cool slated metal ceiling that matched the walls and floor. It was definitely a cell, and you most definitely found out much too late that your wrists were tied behind your back. 
When you were sure you weren’t going to upend anymore of your breakfast, you slowly began to maneuver to sit on the only bench they’d laid you on. The pain in the sockets of your shoulders informing you that you’d been like this for quite a while. 
You were still trying to gather your bearings when the sliding doors to your right opened. A woman with blonde hair stood at the forefront with a Spartan, the dusk green armor of John - 117, standing protectively behind her. When she moved, he moved. You couldn’t help but consider her a puppeteer and the Spartan the puppet. He didn’t move unless she did and you doubted he would be doing any of the talking. 
She entered the room with a cautionary smile and clinical eyes assessing you before she even entered. It was easy to tell she was a scientist and, more than likely, a very experienced one in whatever it was she specialized in. 
“Hello, Subject Cobalt,” she said brightly. Her smile never faltered once. “I’m glad to see that you are alright. My name is Doctor Halsey. I’ve come to do an assessment on you and make sure you didn’t sustain any life-threatening or mind altering issues after what happened back on Laconix.”
Subject Cobalt? 
Was that supposed to be you?
You eyed her warily as she took her first step inside the cell. The heavy footsteps of Mjolnir armor followed closely behind. If she suspected you were jumpy - a rabbit in headlights, as the old ones used to say - Halsey never showed it. 
A few more steps and she was beside the bench. Another breath and she was sitting beside you. The smile on her face beaming and hollowing out her eyes with rapture at what she must have considered a new species. You made a fine new specimen for any scientist, you would imagine. A nervous system full of eezo that lit your body up like an Earthen Christmas tree and the power to wield it like a weapon.
Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you. 
“I’m going to do a few simple tests to verify cognitive function isn’t impaired. To do so, I’m going to need your assistance. Do you think you could do that for me?”
Your eyes scanned over her as you considered your options. It turned out to be a very short list that was available to you. The only option being to go along with what she asked. 
“Okay.”
That one word was all the go ahead Halsey needed to cause her megawatt smile to go up a notch. She must have thought you would be resistant to following orders and she wasn’t wrong but, from where you were sitting, this seemed like the lesser of two evils. 
“Splendid. First, I’m going to run this pen horizontally and vertically. I need you to focus on the tip of the pen, and follow it as closely as you can.”
“Okay.”
Doctor Halsey lifted the pen up to eye level, a few inches away from your face, and waited for your eyes to train on the silver point. You hadn’t expected an examination as soon as you woke up. You weren’t sure if you should’ve felt happy or worried about it. If you were one misstep away from becoming a lab rat. 
You’d been so deep in thought - your mind considering all the outcomes and possibilities of this interaction ending well - that you completely missed her first question. 
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”
Another smile. Another deflection. It was enough, however, for you to notice the tightness in the fine lines of her face. It was so small you could’ve missed it. 
“Of course. During your biotic episode on Laconix, I noticed your nose started bleeding. Does it do that every time you use your biotics?”
“No.”
The tightness again. This time it was the edges of her smile - suspended in that mock sweetness - that reminded you of your mother. Waiting for you to give more detail without prodding and realizing, rapidly, you feared incriminating yourself. The pen dropped into her lap. Her eyes roaming over your face for a sign - a tell - that she could exploit. 
“You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I’m merely trying to help you -“
“Is that what you’re trying here, Dr. Halsey? To be my friend? To tell me I’m not in any danger when you took me off my planet against my will?” You inquired. Her mouth was still suspended open, forming around a word cut short by your desire to not hear anymore bullshit. “It feels like there is more going on than what you’re sharing.”
She schooled her face - even her eyes - to remain emotionless. A perfect blank slate to display only what she wanted without giving away what she didn’t. 
“Alright. I watched you. At first, you seemed in control, but after the third or fourth time your biotics displayed themselves, and you overextended their use, you suffered an epistaxis - the nosebleed. Further scans done here in the ship’s medical bay presented signs of swelling and hematoma on the brain. A few hours before you woke up, I had them run another analysis and both are gone. Which leaves me to believe it only occurs upon exhaustion.”
She watched you as she spoke. Her gaze searching, prodding, for signs of whatever reaction she expected but wasn’t getting. You would’ve loved to offer up whatever it was she wanted, if only you knew which specific one she was hunting for. 
“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”
“What is this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s a lie,” you shot back. 
The tone in your voice matched the anxiety rising in your chest. It caused your words to be rougher than intended, alerting the Spartan in the corner who took a step towards you. Only the rising hand of calm - control - from Dr. Halsey kept him from taking another step. 
“I think you understand more than you’re willing to tell me or, at least, not wanting to show your whole hand, anyway. You’re a scientist, right? Probably super smart. Smart enough you probably come from some UNSC lab  from Reach or Illium?”
“Reach.”
The carefully constructed smile was back on her lips, but this time you could see a spark of something brighten up the soft blue of her eyes. You were doing something she didn’t expect, but her scientific mind found it fascinating. No doubt logging it away to draw it open later somewhere quiet to dissect. 
Your lips pouted around her admission. Reach. One of the top three planets, if not the first, for all private and commercial research filled with legal litigation and NDA’s to protect organizations and UNSC labs from the courts of public opinions. It was how Conatix got away with doing what they did to you and the other kids scattered across the galaxy. Only taking notice when it seemed like something that could benefit them. You weren’t stupid. Halsey had taken one look at what you could do - what you did - and only two things came to mind: control or destroy. 
You hadn’t figured out exactly which one you were to Dr. Halsey yet. 
“Are you going to kill me?”
Halsey didn’t necessarily give you a reason to think it was an outlandish guess. Everything - everyone - was expendable when it came to science and the betterment of humanity. Or whatever the UNSC’s science team's new slogan was.
“Why would we kill you?”
You tried to shrug off the growing anxiety that sat coiling inside your gut.
“To experiment on me. Take me apart and see what’s buried underneath, so to speak. Isn’t that what you people do.”
“You don’t realize what you are, do you? The advancement of human genetics - biology - that is flowing through you.”
“What’s flowing through me is eezo and it cost hundreds of children their lives.”
“Yes, but for one out of a hundred children there is something remarkable. You. The one out of a thousand. A stepping stone towards humans having a place amongst the vast and ever growing populace of space. I don’t want to kill you, Cobalt. I want to integrate you into my program.”
“What program?”
You wondered if madness was contagious. If you asked anyone else, they might have dismissed your words as too harsh. No doubt calling Halsey’s display of excitement for simply that, but you could see her eyes. Underneath all that perfectly concealed pleasant exterior was an intelligence that was willing to break the norms - rules - to get to whatever she needed. 
“I run the Spartan program. Granted, you are well past the parameters to become a Spartan, no, I…I want to make a subunit. I think Cobalt, we can help each other, and not only help each other, but possibly end this war.”
UNSC propaganda. 
That’s what the war was. Everyone in the outer colonies knew it was just a fancy attempt to stop the growing surge of colonists from joining the insurrectionists. Halsey sensed your doubt before you disregarded her words with a shake of your head. 
“No. The covenant is just a UNSC nightmare story to try and get the outer colonies to toe the line. To allow themselves to be governed under your jurisdiction.”
“I can promise you. It’s not.”
“Of course you would say that! You’re a USNC scientist for Christ’s sake!”
“John.”
Somehow, you’d forgotten that big hunk of tin was in the room. Halsey kept you focused on her - solely on her - that when the Spartan took a step forward, the reflection of the room mirrored in his visor, you almost jumped out of your skin. 
In his hand was a holopad that he deposited into her waiting palm. Halsey didn’t waste time logging in. Her fingers tapped wildly across the screen with a speed that left you dizzy. When she found whatever it was she’d been looking for she extended the holopad out for you to take. 
“This was transmitted to us only a few hours ago.”
Warily, you watched her. Your mind debating if you should take the holopad or tell her to fuck off. It was more made up videos or fancy speeches, you were sure of it. The grim lines of her face, however, left you wondering just how certain you were. It was her turn to place the holopad in your hands. Your gaze on her a few more seconds before it dropped down to the video that played on the screen.
Bright beams. It’s what you noticed first. Beams that erupted from the sky with such brilliant clarity you knew it could only be one form: plasma. You couldn’t understand - comprehend - what you were seeing. 
Plasma on that scale was impossible. It should’ve been and yet, you watched as it sliced through the planet's barrier, through molecules, and simple things like trees and mountains. Everything it touched turned red hot like lava from volcanoes you’d heard stories about that were on the original human planet of earth. While the plasma beam continued its destructive course, the magma it left behind flowed behind. 
You didn’t understand until you did. 
You knew that mountain. You’d glanced at it many times on walks to neighboring villages for trade. Attempted to climb it a thousand times as a child. 
“What is this?”
Your disbelief was met with something you couldn’t place from her. Halsey didn’t offer up sympathy. She offered up an understanding of watching everything you love disappear in a wave of destruction. But how could she understand the hollowness, the sinking feeling of dread that gripped your heart and threatened to make it stop?
“It’s Laconix. Shortly after we left the Covenant arrived. They glassed the planet.”
“Glassed? I - I don’t. I don’t understand.”
You were going to hyperventilate if you weren’t careful. 
“It’s gone, Cobalt.” That’s not my name. “The Covenant doesn’t take prisoners. They destroy everything. Kill everything. Your planet is gone.” 
Gone. 
Gone. 
Your home. What was left of your family - your people - your community. Gone. In less than 7.8 seconds of holopad footage. 
“But you can avenge them. You can fight for them and to protect every other planet still left out there in the galaxy and I can help you do it.”
Deep down a part of you knew this had been her tactic all along. If reason didn’t make someone join your cause, then using their emotions against them would. You should’ve seen it coming. Took the time to ask more questions but the growing hole in your soul moved on from shock and grief was rocketing towards unbridled rage at lightning speed. 
When you glanced back up at her, Halsey knew she had you before you even spoke. 
“What do you need me to do?”
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As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.
118 notes · View notes
inlovewithdob · 4 months ago
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Pairing- Stiles Stilinski x reader
Warnings- none just cute fluff but reader has curly hair
Word count- 900+
Curls and Cuddles
⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂
Friday night afternoon with a not so fortunate sky. Your idea to go on a beach date went back to just an idea. Which wasn’t the worst thing for Stiles since he hated unwanted oglers staring at your body. And honestly just prefers staying in bed cuddling while one of the many Star Wars movies played (but only the prequels). Paired with a big bowl of a sweet popcorn concoction, and a share sized bag of candy he bought you at a gas station on the way to his house. As "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...." it seemed as if his grip around your waist tightened if that was even possible. He was in pure bliss. Body sprawled out on top of yours. Face buried so deep between your breasts you questioned how he was even still breathing. But what he was most enjoying was- your hair. More specifically, your curls. 
 
He’s always been fascinated by them. Being the first thing he noticed about you when you were sat in front of him in Coach Finstocks class. He couldn’t bring himself to care about how the size of your mane blocked his view of the board (not that he was paying attention anyways). Until his daydreaming sesh was interrupted by a loud whistle right in his ear, causing him to lift up from his chair with an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek. 
 
“BILINSKI, did you even hear my question?” Coach asked in that same tone he always used on him.
 
His head shook enough to bring him back to reality and turned to look up at the teacher slowly. He flashed a sheepish smile ”no coach, could you repeat it?”
 
Coaches whistle blared the another ear death-ening pitch, erupting another yelp from Stiles “detention Saturday.” 
 
His lips parted to begin his moan and protesting but you 180’d around your chair to look behind you to face him holding back a giggle. To finally see the beautiful face of the owner of the beautiful hair, he had to blink almost as if he couldn’t believe that someone as perfect as you was even looking at him- let alone smiling at him. His jaw fell slack. Detention being the last thing on his mind. Coach stopped caring and made his way back to the whiteboard to try and yell the information into the scholars skulls somehow. You winked and turned to face back at the board, continuing your notes and doodles. God did that wink make his heart stop beating for a second, then somehow made it thump it faster.
 
Once the unnecessarily long lesson on whatever coach was roaring about finally finished. Stiles scrambled out of his seat and shoved his (empty) notebook into his backpack, not even bothering to close it. He caught you by the door before you left “h-hi I’m s-stiles,” his flustered stuttering making him impossibly more adorable.
 
You were thrilled he came over to talk to you ”hi, I’m y/n.”
 
You two stood there by the door sharing your interests, which were mostly all common-until coach shooed you both out to get to your guys next period. Right before you two were off to part ways, you handed him a folded little note torn straight from the corner of your notebook and connected a soft peck of your lips to his cheeks. You left from nervousness over your sudden action before seeing his reaction. Which he was happy about since the reaction from just a quick kiss to not even his lips erupted from him was entirely too embarrassing. After he took a second to breathe and calm down, he carefully unwrapped the note since it was now tied with his beloved Jeep “Roscoe” for the most important items he owned since you gave it to him. Inside was a little doodle of him knombing on the end of a pencil, which was surprisingly good. And your little signature and phone number on the back.
Hooked ever since.
His legs fought to tangle tighter with yours, needing to feel your warmth and presence as much as he could. One of his hands bunching up the fabric of the hoodie you stole from him behind your waist. With the other springing and twirling your coils. His voice raspy and muffled by your chest as he spoke, “Mmm, I love your hair.”
 
Making you giggle since he reminds you about it every day, “Oh, you do,huh?” Faux-shock
 
While he was too entranced, twirling and curling the springs that engulfed your head to notice your mocking tone, “Mmm, so much.”
 
Your fingers raked along his soft, unruly tufts, lightly scratching his scalp enough to tingle the nerves of his spine “I love your hair too.” 
 
He couldn’t help but lean into your touch, letting out a deep content sigh“yeah but mines boring and normal. Yours is just...mmm” with the dopiest smile on his face eyes peacefully closed inhaling your scent that he found himself clinging on to whenever it was left behind on any of his belongings.
 
Landing a gentle kiss against his pale expression creased forehead “that’s funny since you're the least boring and normal person I know.”
 
His head lifts up from where it’s buried deep between your breasts, just enough to meet your eyes with a slight smile and cock of the head “is that a good or bad thing?”
 
Your hands left his chaotic dark brown hair sticking up in every direction to cup his mole speckled flushed cheeks. “good thing. Definitely a good thing.”
 
He uses the grip on your (his) hoodie as leverage to lift his face up closer to yours
“I love you”
 
Your smile widening, leaning in to meet him halfway”I love you to my cute little nerd,” sealing it off with a gentle lock of the lips.
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juneberrie · 1 year ago
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WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN ➜ peter parker, mcu
requested: yes / no — not goodbye. just "see you later"
author's note: i was listening to remi wolf as one does and down the line came on.. and i got the amazing idea to write this. you're welcome! debating whether i should make a part two. . .
ⓘ content: fem!reader, angsty, mcu!peter, takes place during nwh mwahahaha, not proofread
word count : 1.4k || peter parker masterlist
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"you're gonna forget who i am," peter blurts out.
"what?" ned says. mj stares at him, a cut on her forehead dripping blood onto her eyebrow.
"peter, what do you mean?" you ask, voice shaking. so much had happened today; you just wanted to go home, take a shower, and curl up in bed with your boyfriend.
"it's okay," he whispers, taking your hand. "i'm gonna come and find you, and i'll explain everything. i'll make you remember me. it'll be like none of this ever happened. okay?"
you shake your head at him. "what are you talking about?" you say quietly. "what– what do you mean, we're gonna forget you?" your voice cracks.
"i'll explain everything when i find you," he repeats. his eyes are welling up with tears. he turns to ned.
"promise?" your friend asks.
"i promise." peter drops your hand quickly to embrace his friend. when they pull away, tears are rolling down both their faces.
peter turns to mj. "i'll come find you."
she steps forward and hugs him. "you better," she warns. "or– or i'm just gonna figure it out."
peter lets out a shaky laugh. "i know you will." he finally turns to you.
"ange–" he starts, but you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. his hands drop to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
when you finally pull away, he gives you a soft smile. "i love you. don't forget it."
with sobs threatening to spill out of your mouth, you shake your head. "i don't want to. peter," you beg. "isn't there anything we can do?"
he shakes his head, watery eyes staring into yours. "i'm sorry," he murmurs. "i love you," he repeats.
"i love you too," you whisper, burying your face in his chest. he kisses your head, murmuring reassurances.
"i promise i'll fix this," he says. you look up through blurry eyes, taking in your boyfriend one last time. the boy who had been by your side for the past year and a half, building star wars legos, having study dates, binge watching movies. the boy you loved.
he looks behind you, at mj and ned. his face settles into stony determination. "take care of her. of– of each other," he says.
"we will," ned promises. mj gently places a hand on your back.
peter swallows, his adam's apple bobbing. he lets go of your waist. he jumps up onto a piece of a fallen wall, turning back to look at you one last time.
"bye," you say quietly, salty tears streaming down your face.
he shakes his head. "not bye. see you later."
he swung away, leaving the three most important people in his life crying behind him.
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2 WEEKS LATER.
the door jingles as someone pushes it open, letting a cold gust of air in the cafe. mj shivers as the air reaches her bare arms.
"it's so fucking cold out," she complains, pouring coffee into a cup. you snort.
"that's why we're inside, mj," you remark, taking a bite of your donut.
she rolls her eyes at you. "you should do stand up," she says, snapping the lid onto the cup and sliding it across the countertop to a waiting customer. "when's ned getting here?"
you check your phone for any texts. "soon. he say's he's almost here."
right as you say that, the door jingles again, and you turn to see a boy holding the door open for ned. "he's here!" you say to mj. she rolls her eyes again, smiling. she turns to the other boy, who looks strangely familiar.
"hey," ned says, sliding into the seat next to you.
"hi," both you and mj reply. she gives the two of you a small smile before turning to look at the boy, who's glancing between you, ned, and mj.
"can i help you?" mj asks. the boy looks slightly startled, but shakes his head and smiles.
"hi!" he clears his throat. "um. hi. i'm peter parker and i....." his voice falters as he looks at you. he takes a deep breath. "i would like a coffee, please," he says.
mj side eyes you and ned, who bites back a laugh. "okay, no problem, peter parker." she turns to grab an empty cup and moves to the coffee pot.
as she does this, you notice the boy, peter's, eyes quickly flitting between you, her, and ned. his eyes lock with yours and you raise an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips.
he clears his throat again, looking away. mj hands him the coffee and tells him his total. he pats down his pockets before pulling out a wallet and handing her a few crumpled bills.
"thank you..." he says slowly.
"no problem," mj replies.
he looks at ned's sweater, the mit logo emblazoned on the front. "you excited for mit?" he asks.
"huh?" ned turns to him, then looks down at his sweater. "oh, yeah. which is weird. usually i'm not excited about things. i kind of expect disappointment."
peter takes a sip of his coffee. you see his nose scrunch up slightly. he hates black coffee, you think. you blink. what was that? how would you know that? you shake your head ever so slightly, telling yourself that its a normal reaction to pure black coffee.
tuning back into the conversation, you hear him ask mj, "are you okay?" he's looking at the bandaid on her forehead.
"yeah," she says simply. "don't remember how i got it, but it doesn't hurt anymore."
"thats good," he replies. a silence settles over the coffee shop, the only sound being the wind outside.
"is there anything else you need?" mj asks him.
"um." he glances at you again. "no, actually. thank you."
"no problem. see you around," she says, grabbing a washcloth and starting to wipe down the counter. peter pushes the door open, the bell jingling, and steps into the cold new york air.
immediately, mj turns to you, leaning her elbows on the counter. "he was checking you out," she says bluntly.
"what?" you feel your cheeks get hot. "no way."
ned poked you in the side. "yes way. he was totally into you!"
you shake your head, laughing at the two of them. "yeah, alright."
the three of you laugh. you had to admit, he was pretty cute. but you probably would never see him again, so what was the point in getting caught up with a crush?
walking back to your apartment, you shove one hand in your coat pocket and use the other to fish your key out of your bag. you trudge up the stairs, thankful for the shelter from the freezing, snowy air outside.
as you reach your floor, your hear the landlord say, "rent is due on the first of the month. don't be late." he brushes past you as you make your way towards your apartment.
peter from the coffee shop was standing outside the door in front of yours, struggling to balance a box and slip the key into the lock.
"oh, hey!" you say. he turns to you and nearly drops the box. you grab it before it hits the floor. "need any help?"
his face flushes. "oh– uh, yeah, that'd be great." you smile at him as he fumbles with the key, finally getting it in the lock and twisting the knob. he pushes the door to his apartment open, holding it open for you. you set the box down on the kitchen counter, then turn to him.
"i'm y/n," you offer.
"peter," he replies. he hesitates before holding his hand out for you to shake. you laugh at his nervousness. it was kind of endearing.
"nice to meet you, peter," you smile, taking his hand. "hey, if you need any help moving in—" you point across the hall, to your door. "—i'm right over there."
he smiles. "that'd be great." he glances down at your still joined hands and flushes slightly. he lets go. you stand together in his empty apartment for a few moments.
"well, i'll see you later?" you say, a hopeful smile on your face.
"yeah, yeah," he nods quickly. "sure."
"cool," you smile. "well, bye!" you step out of your newfound friend's apartment, fishing your key out of your pocket.
"see you later," you hear him murmur. smiling to yourself, you unlock your door and slipping inside and shutting your door. you can't wait to tell mj about this.
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scuderiasundays · 2 years ago
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a promise is a promise
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summary: sliding into a stranger's dm's, nostalgia for your first date, and a promise sealed with a kiss + a little insta au at the end 💙
words: 1,071
a/n: my first time writing for mr. leclerc! thank you for the req, @headinthecloudssblog 🫶🏼 tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @formulaforza, @thatsdemko, and @diorleclerc because i trust you all deeply. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses!
Charles loved Adele and he sure wasn't shy about it. While the other racing drivers were hyping themselves up with rock, EDM, or rap, the Monegasque’s AirPods (which he often lost) were blaring “Someone Like You.” You, yourself, wondered how the powerful yet melancholy ballad could put him in the right headspace to drive at breathtaking speeds of up to 362 km/h. 
You were nothing short of euphoric when it was announced that she would be extending her exclusive residency in Las Vegas. It would be a dream come true if you could see her live during the weekend of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. However, a bitter reality crept in when you discovered the final show was scheduled for November 4, a mere two weeks before the two of you would arrive stateside. Charles would be racing at Interlagos, while you would be stuck at a clinical genetics conference in St Andrews.
“I was going to get us tickets to thank you for your service in the Great War!” You huffed as you watched Charles tie the laces of his Puma running shoes, visibly let down by the news. All of your friends thought the racing driver had used his F1 connections to get you those coveted floor seats, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. Your boyfriend had spent 18 hours in a virtual queue on one of his few days off, using multiple of his sim racing monitors to secure tickets to the Eras Tour. Arthur had mocked his older brother about how “whipped” he was, joking that he was relieved someone else’s screen time was as horrific as his own.
With a light kiss on your neck, Charles wrapped his arms around you from behind, his voice filled with affection. "It’s like this, ma chérie. I'm going for a run with Andrea," he whispered. As he headed towards the door, his shoulders slumped and his AirPods in, it became clear today's run would be more of a recovery run, a moment for him to recharge physically but more so emotionally.
Determined to bring Charles closer to his idol, you swiftly grabbed your phone from the kitchen island and opened Adele's Instagram profile. Sliding into someone's DMs had never been your style, let alone that of a Grammy-winning artist, but you figured there was nothing to lose.
"Hi, this is Y/N. I know it's unlikely that you'll ever see this, but I'm taking a leap of faith for my boyfriend Charles, who is undoubtedly your biggest fan. Our first date perfectly encapsulates his essence," you began typing, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. "He took me on the most gorgeous twilight yacht ride, accompanied by a meticulously curated playlist of his favorite songs. Upbeat songs like 'A Sky Full of Stars,' 'Pepas,' and 'Feel So Close' filled the air. But then, out of nowhere, a hauntingly beautiful piano melody began to play."
Pausing for a moment, a reminiscent smile graced your face as the memory came roaring back to life. "'Is this Adele?'" you had asked, a glass of rosé in your hand. Charles looked so at peace compared to the tense expression he sometimes wore during race weekends. He had offered you his blue Ferrari sweatshirt to ward off the evening chill and confirmed that it was indeed Adele. Charles shared that he, unlike most, found comfort in what he deemed “depressive music.”
Since that fateful evening, the British songstress' music had become an integral part of your relationship. It served as the soundtrack to your road trips, where you took turns belting ‘Rolling in the Deep.’ It sparked heated debates about whether Adele’s ‘Daydreamer’ or Sade’s ‘By Your Side’ should be your first dance song. It even led to late nights, downing espresso shots just so you could listen to her latest album the second it dropped.
You reached for your phone once again. "That night ended with Charles’ hand resting on my thigh as he drove me home to 'Make You Feel My Love.’ Your music has been the soundtrack to so many of our most intimate moments, and it would mean the world if you could find some time to perform for him," you typed, pouring your heart into the message. You added, "I know this is a long shot, but I..." before eagerly hitting the "Send" button. With a growing sense of accomplishment, you decided to run to the grocery store to pick up some fresh salmon for dinner.
Unable to keep a secret to save your life, you shared what you’d been up to with Charles. "You DM'd the queen? Je t'aime, ma belle, but I highly doubt she'll reply," he playfully teased, rolling his eyes as he wiped the dish you had just handed him.
"What if she does?" you retorted, a hint of hope in your voice. "You know how I treasure you so much I don’t even trust myself to take you on a hot lap? We’ll do it in Las Vegas if and only if Adele responds." His devilish Leclerc wink accompanied the mischievous remark, leaving you to wonder how this crazy turn of events would unfold.
Weeks passed, and with each passing day, the likelihood of a reply dwindled. Charles was away in Qatar when the doorbell unexpectedly rang. A courier stood before you, holding a grand bouquet of white roses along with a message card. Assuming it was from him, your hands trembled as you read the sign-off on the ivory white card. There it was, unmistakably etched in the most elegant script. Five letters. Adele.
You snatched the card eagerly and read it over countless times, overcome with disbelief. It turned out that Adele's devoted fan base had made her very much aware of Charles' fanboying. She expressed her delight and confirmed that she would be more than happy to sing a few songs for you over dinner so long as she could score some “cool mom points” and bring her son Angelo to the race.
Your hands trembled with sheer excitement as you shared the spectacular news with Charles. He blamed his nonexistent allergies as tears welled up in his eyes, but you saw right through his lies.
"So, you'll be taking me on that hot lap, Leclerc?" you grinned, blissed out seeing him so happy. "Bah oui, une promesse est une promesse," he replied, sealing his vow with a well-earned kiss.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
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liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 61,616 others
yourusername: weekends with adele (and charles) 🎰🍸❤️
fan1: “it’s true that, after a bad day, if you listen to that, you cry. you don’t feel any better. but i like it. i like the mood of depressive music.” - chuck leclerc
charles_leclerc: i have the best girlfriend in the world! tu est simplement la meilleure ❤️
adele: she’s one of a kind! thank you for letting me bear witness to your love x
yourusername: you, sir, are the love of my life. thanks for tolerating my impulsivity!
fan2: i need a charles and adele collab and i need it NOW 😤
joris_trouche: he’ll never shut up about this
charles_leclerc: prepare to be sick of me! wait, you and @andferrari007 already are 🫣
scuderiaferrari: c² music challenge but adele songs only?
carlossainz55: why play when i don’t even stand a chance 🤨
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kotias · 1 year ago
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We Are in Our Eden - Until Our Stars No Longer Shine
A little reprieve from the angst war @opscuritas
Fluff story written with @daneecastle
Word count: 1492 words
Crowley was out for the day, and had stopped by a cliff close to Aberdeen, with the grandest view to the ocean he could experience in the country. The wind was strong, almost pushing him away, and he laughed. What a view! The waves crashing against the rocks beneath him, the smell of iodine taking into his nostrils, and most of all, the view of the sun setting on the infinite horizon, spreading its yellows and reds and purples onto this side of the world. But it was only when he lifted his head and watched above that he noticed- He took his phone out of his pocket and called home. “Angel! Come here! Cruden Bay, the highest cliff you can find!" He knew he had an unexpected squeal in the middle of that call- well, it was guaranteed to give his angel some form of curiosity, at least. He looked up again, a bright smile on his face.
“Cruden Bay? But why? It's almost time to eat!" he heard over the phone, and didn’t say a word. Just the next second, he heard the familiar flutter of white wings behind him. “Crowley, what is it?”
He instantly caught his hand, dragged him a little further up, feeling like a teenage girl eager to spend time with her crush. He was jittery, smiling, squealing- "Look!" He pointed to the stars. Shooting stars in the sky, crossing the ozone layer, lighting up like fireworks. He could barely stay put, looking at them with the wonder of a child- and he knew it was an unreasonable reaction- he knew! But this was the first time he had the opportunity to watch them with Aziraphale. Pressing his fingers around the angel’s, he looked back at him, caught the adoration in his eyes, the immensity of his love for him, trapped behind those perfect eyes, changing with his emotions, and the slight blush he was showing. Crowley was over the moon- it mattered not whether the angel had really looked at what he was trying to show him. And the stars- the stars! So close to his reach! 
An idea came- he raised Aziraphale's hand and kissed it, before letting go of him and coming to the very edge of the cliff. Raising his left hand and snapping his fingers, he said "Here, boy!" And one of the shooting stars changed directions entirely, flinging in their direction and stopping right at his feet for him to collect two good pieces of it. He tapped it like a good dog and snapped his fingers again, leaving it to go back to its path. The rocks between his fingers were hot, almost crisp in his hand. And they smelled... so unique. He turned to Aziraphale again and showed them to him. "There's something I love about those shooting stars," he said, looking at the rocks like he would a child.
“What is it?” Aziraphale asked with a sweet, enamoured voice, never looking away from him. “I would love to know.”
He let out a small giggle. "It's a piece of Heaven, wrapped in the fires we find in Hell... falling on Earth. It feels like home. And also-" He turned to the shooting stars again. "My eyes aren't the best at seeing far. I miss a lot of the star lights that you describe to me. But the shooting stars? I can see them."
Aziraphale stepped closer to him, his deep blue eyes draping themselves in an emerald shroud. "Maybe…” He lightly touched his arms, caressing them with his thumbs. “Someday we could ask God to have your eyes changed back, so you could see the splendour of the world you helped create." He kissed Crowley's forehead. "I'm sure, after all you've done, She wouldn't mind."
Crowley shook his head slightly, losing his train of thought as Aziraphale’s slight sadness in his voice was gnawing at his euphoria. "Ah, yes, well- I think you'd miss the yellow in my eyes, wouldn't you?" 
"I would, I won't deny it, but-" He kissed him one, twice, and reverted back to his little star babies in his hand. "Here, hold this-" He handed him one of the two rocks and cradled the other between his two hands. "Let see if I can still-" His eyes lit up as he felt his power surge into it. "Yes!" When he uncovered it, it was glowing like a little sun, and he beamed at his angel, who couldn’t take his eyes from it, shining in unison with it. For a moment, he paused, only looking at him and how beautiful of a sight his amazement was, everytime he showed him something different from what he knew.
He cleared his throat. “Okay, now-" He held the little star up, pointing it to the darkening skies. “What do you want to be called, little one?" It was like an old music sheet had been rediscovered. The little star glowed, surrounded his hand in affection. He smiled. “Ah, I see. How about-" The little star extended to his forearm. “Oh!" He gave a glance at Aziraphale. “Naming it would mean giving it to the sky. I believe it doesn't want that, it's clutching onto me right now." He pulled his hand back to their levels as the angel chuckled. “Perfect little thing, why would you insist on staying with me?" he asked, like one would to a small child. 
“What wouldn't want to be with you?" he heard Aziraphale answer with a dreamy sigh, and he chortled.
“You’re barely objective, angel, we’ve known each other for-” A little power coursed from the star to his chest. “Oh-" Tenderly, he passed his fingers on the edges of the little thing. “Okay then- Angel, could you give me the second one? Thanks," he said as he received it, and kissed his nose. “Okay little star, do you want to help me, then?” He weighed the rock and the star; then, pressing the rock a little harder, he parted it in halves. The little star lightened excitedly. "Yes? That what you want?" He approached his two hands until they touched, and the little star crossed them to engulf the two new little rocks. He smiled and looked at Aziraphale. "It wants to stay with us, you see- so it's preparing a nest. I hope- I think you'll like the result."
The little star melted into the rocks, and the rocks melted into the star. Glowing brightly into Crowley's hands, they were exuding a homey warmth, and he let the three elements figure out what they wanted first, before guiding them gently into a form. For a second, his eyes darted to Aziraphale's hands, and he got back to work. They were shining so beautifully, he thought, as they let themselves be moulded by his attentions. After about a minute of working together, he blew on them, revealing two rings; one obsidian, textured like the meteorites coming from space and speckled with little twinkles all over it; the other perfectly white, gleaming like a happy little star, with a thin, tiny little black snake coursing its way all around it. He looked into his angel’s bright eyes, asking the question silently. Would you like me to put it on your finger? To make you mine for eternity? 
Aziraphale gasped as he watched the rings come into existence, shining like their very own little stars, tethered to the world that they had called their own. He felt stunned, overjoyed and excited, on the verge of tears as he realised what they were meant for, what Crowley had done to them, bearing the promise of their eternal loyalty to one another. For quite a long time, he was staring at the rings, far from Crowley’s expectant eyes, until he shook himself off; they knew, the both of them, and many years had passed since they had truly needed the words to express this intense sentiment they felt for one another, or the promise of an everliving love for one another. Yet, he gave a vocal answer. “Oh, you silly demon… Of course I would.”
His smile warmed him like a fireplace during the winter, his fingers wrapping around his hand made his heart flutter, and his kiss felt like a cloud.
The white ring slid perfectly on his finger, and he felt its otherworldly warmth on his skin, draping around him and offering just a bit of Crowley’s essence to mix into his own, his final oath in this union they were making for themselves.
The demon slid his own, dark ring on his finger, then passed his hand into Aziraphale’s hair and sealed their lips and their Vows together with a kiss. Together like they had been since the beginning, and never intending to part, they were an us, like God most certainly had intended.
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squichymochi · 11 months ago
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Ops another lucifer x reader I wrote this weekend. I really do hope you enjoy reading it, it’s one of my favourites.
Warnings: This story contains mature themes consistent with Hazbin Hotel, including violence, blood, strong language, and mentions of death.
Disclaimer: You once found yourself entwined in a passionate relationship with Lucifer and Lilith. But when Lucifer was cast out of Heaven, you didn’t go with him.
Lucifer x Reader
Word Count: 1.445
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Your words cut sharply through the air. “I swear to fucking God, Adam, if you start another one of your guitar solos again, I’ll personally rip those ‚chicken‘ wings off of your back and boot you straight to Hell!” The words left your lips before you could stop them, echoing through the meeting room. 
Across from you, Adam nonchalantly chewed his ribs with a smug smile adoring his face, surrounded by a flock of adoring soon to be exorcists who treated him more like a rock star than a holy being. 
Next to you, Sera, the First Seraphim, cleared her throat disapprovingly, prompting a flush of embarrassment to color your cheeks while she stared you down with a judgmental gaze.
You unclenched your jaw and sank back into your chair, your wings unfurling behind you and dropping with an air of regal defiance. “My apologies, First Seraphim,” you managed through gritted teeth. But your patience was wearing thin, especially with Adam’s smug grin. “I can’t tolerate his sanctimonious attitude. He's an insufferable—”you continued, only to be cut off by Sera’s raised hand.
“Enough!” Sera’s voice thundered through the room, silencing any further protest. “Y/N, if you wish to avoid Lucifer’s fate, you will keep your opinions to yourself. We cannot allow Hell to gain any advantage.”
Growling in frustration, you said „but these are souls we are talking about“, your voice trembled with rage and you clenched your fists so tightly that crescents were etched into your skin. „Who cares? They’re sinners, just like your damned husband, who fucked my first wife and now festers in Hell,” Adam declared, his grin wide and taunting, as he casually twirled a bone between his fingers.
Refusing to be silenced by his heartlessness, you countered with vehemence, “Their sins don’t strip them of their right to fair judgment. We need to have more discussions, more debates, before we let angels turn into executioners, slaughtering millions of souls without a second thought!” Your voice rose with every word, echoing your unwavering conviction and the urgency of the matter at hand.
Sera stood up, her voice commanding and resolute, cutting through the heated debate. “Enough!” she declared, her authority unmistakable. “I will not tolerate any action that could escalate into a war with Hell. Our duty is to protect our kind first and foremost. And Y/N, tread carefully. If you wish to avoid the same fate as Lucifer, you will keep this matter confined within these walls.”
Fueled by frustration and defiance, you couldn’t hold back. With a low growl, you flung a dagger, embedding it in the wall just inches from Adam’s head. His smugness evaporated into a scream of terror. “You’ll regret this, you little—” 
But before he could finish, you were forcefully ejected from the room, your parting gesture a pair of defiant middle fingers aimed squarely at Adam. From that day, you helplessly watched the angels execute their merciless agenda, condemning countless souls in Hell.
~years later~
In the plaza of Heaven, Adam's arm nonchalantly draped over your shoulder, his voice dripping with arrogance. “So, how does it feel, watching us purge Hell every fucking year, eh?” With a cold stare, you warned him, “Touch me again, and you’ll not only lose that arm.” His laughter only fuelled your loathing.
Just then, a commotion caught your attention. A girl, bearing an uncanny resemblance to your husband Lucifer, passed by. “What’s Lucifer’s brat doing up here?” Adam sneered.
Your heart ached at the sight. She looked just like Lucifer, except for her height. Memories flooded back – of your time with Lucifer, your love, and the painful decision to stay in Heaven while he fell. Lucifer, whom you had joined willingly, who had fallen for Lilith as much as for you. Together, you had offered Eve the apple, challenging the rigid confines of Heaven.
Yet when Lucifer fell, you couldn’t bring yourself to join him, torn by a selfish desire to protect your unborn child. You didn’t notice when Adam and Lute were caught by a pissed of first Seraphim.
In court, as you listened Charlie plead for sinners redemption, Adam let slip his eagerness to exterminate not only sinners in hell every year but also Charlie, Lucifer’s daughter. As he menacingly approached her, you acted without hesitation. A dagger flew from your hand, narrowly missing Adam. “Nobody lays a hand on my husband’s child!” you roared, charging towards him with clenched fists, ready to defend her at all costs.
Charlie’s shocked voice pierced the chaos. “Wait, what?” Her eyes locked with yours, widening in a mix of shock and dawning realisation, before she was abruptly pulled back to Hell, the portal snapping shut behind her.
In that moment, despite knowing the consequences that awaited you, you felt a profound sense of purpose. Protecting Charlie, even at great personal risk, was a cause worth any punishment.
A month later, the day of the Exorcation loomed. Adam’s taunts were relentless, but your resolve was unbreakable. Hidden in the shadows, you slipped into Hell, determined to protect Charlie.
The battle was fierce, and as Adam choked Charlie, your dagger found its mark, forcing him to release her. But Adam’s fury was unmatched when he screamed aiming straight at you „you fucking cunt, I knew you should have left for hell too“ and then a holy light shot straight at you. The fight was brutal, and soon, you felt the searing pain of losing one of your wings. With an agonised scream you started falling, the floor approaching quickly.
But then, something soft caught you – Lucifer, his arms a haven of safety. “Sorry I’m late, darling,” he smirked, descending gracefully and setting you down before his gaze met Adam‘s with a feral growl. As he rolled up his sleeves, a silent signal of readiness, an intense battle ensued. Adam, consumed by fury, narrowly missed striking Charlie, but Lucifer intervened with ferocious protectiveness, unleashing a torrent of pent-up wrath upon him.
You reached out, touching Lucifer’s shoulder with a soft but firm hand. “He’s had enough,” you murmured, bringing Lucifer back from the brink of unbridled rage. His eyes, moments ago ablaze with fury, refocused on you, softening at your touch.
Adam, beaten and defiant, let out a stream of enraged screams and insults, only to be abruptly silenced by a tiny demon you later got to know as Nifty. Her laugh and continuous mantra of „stab, stab, stab“, will forever live rent free inside your head. Watching him fall face first, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. There was no remorse, only a deep, settling peace.
Lucifer's gaze found yours, filled with a mix of shock and unspoken questions.
"Why are you here?" he asked, his voice trembling nervously, he fiddled with his fingers, a characteristic sign of nervousness. His eyes - the very ones that had captured your heart - lifting to meet yours.
„I’m here because I wanted to protect what means the world to you,” you declared with unwavering clarity, “because I love you.”
His face registered shock, and millions of other emotions playing across it as he processed your words. “But… I thought… you hated me,” he stammered, tears brimming in his eyes, “I believed my actions were why you stayed in Heaven.”
Gently, you brushed away his tears and clasped his hands. The rings – symbols of your bond with him and Lilith – still encircled his finger. “No,” you affirmed, your voice firm yet tender. “I stayed to protect our child. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner.” Releasing his hands, you turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself, the weight of years of secrets and solitude pressing down on you.
“Sera… she wouldn’t let me leave, and I just wanted our child to be safe,” you murmured, but before you could continue, Lucifer enveloped you in a warm embrace. “We have a child?” His voice was a whisper, a mixture of disbelief, wonder and regret.
Yes, and he’s incredible,” you said, pride lighting up your voice. “He’s working with Emily, inspired by Charlie, to rehabilitate redeemed sinners in Heaven.”
Lucifer leaned in to kiss your cheek, a gentle touch that spoke volumes. “Then, you should return, my love, before they realise your involvement.”
But you were resolute, grasping his hand on your cheek. “I don’t care. Our son is grown, and I want to be with you, the eternal love of my life,” you whispered, turning around and resting your forehead against his.
“Are you sure?” he asked, laying his heart at your feet. “Always,” you replied, sealing your reunion with a kiss, gentle and full of all the years of longing and love.
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