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jellys-compendium · 4 months

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Red Handed

A König x f!Reader Oneshot

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: After your poor performance on one of your squad's training exercises, you've been punished by fulfilling laundry duty for the entire facility for a month. It's a thankless job, but maybe it will help you figure out who the hell has been stealing your panties. Cw: smut (pwp), mutual pining, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, panty kink, panty sniffing, pet names, size difference/size kink, mask kink, semi-public sex, masturbation, mutual pining, König is a bit of a pervert but he's also awkward, shy and sweet and eats pussy like a champ. Word Count: 3k A/n: This fic is for a dear friend of mine. I hope you enjoy it!

It’s 5:12 AM on a quiet Sunday morning, and mostly everyone in the compound is fast asleep.

Normally, you would be too. But rather than enjoying that sweet extra few hours to sleep in on the one day you have off, you instead find yourself with your teeth grit and cursing under your breath as you haul the last enormous load of laundry into the KorTac facility’s laundry room.

“This is your punishment,” Your superior officer’s words replay in your mind like a broken record.

“For your abysmal performance in the last training exercise, you’ll be assigned laundry duty for the entire facility for the month.”

Sheesh, what an asshole. While you understand that this is how it goes in any military faction, it’s not like the man had to assign you to laundry duty for the whole damn month.

Your comrades had of course taken full advantage of the situation, flinging their dirty socks and other unmentionables at you with childish glee as you passed by their bunks with the laundry bin. Of course, you had returned every little quip with one of your own.

“Thanks mom!”

“No problem, least favorite child.”

“Can you get my boxers smelling like roses when you’re done? My girlfriend would love that.”

“Sure, but I don’t think your hand is all that picky.”

The banter had been amicably scathing for the most part, but admittedly there had been some days where the teasing had frayed your nerves. Unfortunately, that group of lovable meatheads really struggled on picking up on when you’ve had enough. Luckily for you, on those days salvation had come in the form of one very unlikely character.

König. The charmingly awkward 6ft10 giant that could snap a man’s spine over his knee without breaking a sweat.

“That’s enough teasing from you all. Let her do her job in peace.”

As you load the huge pile of laundry into the washing machines, your mind begins its usual circling around thoughts of König. You like him. A lot.

You’ve liked him from the moment you first laid eyes on him nearly a year ago. There’s just something about his dorky personality, coupled with his awkward charm and humongous presence that makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest. Absolutely every single person in the facility knows about your crush too. Well… everyone except König.

König is a bit of a weird and mysterious person. Sometimes he does and says things that don’t really make a lot of sense. You’ve also come to discover that König is pretty secretive about his past, never giving anyone too many details about where he comes from or who he really is.

But the strangest thing about König is that he always has his face covered, even when he’s off duty. As the two of you developed a closer friendship over time, you’d mustered the courage to ask him about the mask one day, but König had simply let out a nervous little laugh and said,

“Ah. I’m sorry, I’m just a bit shy, häschen.”

Also, yes, häschen. The huge Austrian man you had a not so secret crush on had given you an affectionate little nickname. A nickname that he only used whenever the two of you were alone.

“You’re always so busy and energetic! Like a cu—ah—clever little rabbit, ja?”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. God, you are so down bad for that man. Too bad that when it comes to your feelings, König is about as perceptive as a bag full of hammers. You can’t quite figure out if he genuinely is that oblivious to your advances or if it’s his way of letting you down gently. For fear of it being the latter, you had decided to not push it and see where things go.

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly sinking your fingers into your pussy every other night, his name a silent whisper on your lips and his innocent little nickname an echo in your brain.

Häschen.

A tremor travels up your spine, and your thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat courses through your body. Right. Ignoring that.

Refocusing on your task, you finish filling up one of the many washing machines, slide out the tray, and pour in the detergent and softener before setting it to cycle. Then, you proceed to fill in the next one and the next until finally you get to your own pile of laundry.

As you start to sort your clothes, you realize that you’re running low on underwear again. It’s so weird.

In the last few months you’d noticed that some of your panties had gone missing. Originally you’d thought that it was just a fluke—maybe one of your not so perceptive comrades accidentally dropping one or two behind the machines? But since you yourself had taken over laundry duty, you realized that this isn’t the case. Another pair had gone missing and from right under your nose.

You had been especially annoyed when you discovered that it was your favorite comfy but lacy little pair too. Either this is a joke in poor taste, or you have a pervert on your hands. Regardless of which one it is, it’s the last thing you need right now.

Sighing, you reach down and are about to finish filling up the last drum with your dirty clothes when you realize that you had forgotten to add one of your favorite hoodies to the pile.

“Shit.” You whisper under your breath. It’s going to be a bit of a trek to head back to your room and get it, but you really love that hoodie and the thought of being wrapped all nice and warm in it once it’s out of the dryer is too enticing to ignore.

Leaving your laundry to sit in the open machine, you make your way back through the dimly lit hallways of the KorTac training facility. It’s too early for even your superiors to be up, so you’re not that worried about being caught padding through the hallways with bare feet and without your uniform.

As you pass by König’s room, your eyes can’t help but linger on the door. He hasn’t come back from his contract yet. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen him and you miss the big guy.

Even though König hasn’t shown any signs that he’s interested in you beyond being just friends, you still miss seeing him in the mornings. Exchanging some amicable and encouraging words before heading off to your first drill is one of the highlights of your day. Maybe he’s not into you, or maybe he’s just that shy. König’s true intentions are really just as mysterious as the face he hides.

Finally reaching your room, you make a grab for the hoodie that you’ve forgotten at the foot of your bed. Once you have it safely tucked under your arm, you quietly slip back out into the hallway and jog back towards the laundry room. You’d prefer to have your laundry duty done before your comrades wake up and start harassing you for clean clothes.

You slow your gait as you reach the laundry room, but as you silently reach for the door you detect the softest little sound resonating from behind the door.

Is someone there? Seriously, at five in the morning? But then strikes you. Maybe this is the culprit behind your missing panties!

‘Caught you red handed you, jerk.’ You think as you slowly wrap your fingers around the doorknob and turn it. Once the latch is free, you silently push it open just a crack and peek inside. What you see has your jaw nearly hitting the floor.

It’s…König.

Your eyes sweep across König’s unmistakable, enormous frame as he leans over the washing machine you had left open, his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose, giving you a teasing glimpse of his lips, chin, and jaw as he presses a bundled wad of red fabric against his face.

Wait…holy shit are those your fucking panties?

A deep groan escapes König’s lips, his huge body tensing as his left hand travels down. You nearly choke on your own spit when he starts to palm at the raging hard on pressing severely against his fly.

Whoa…is that a third leg in his pants or…

Your eyes are glued to König’s hand as it travels up and down his clothed length, his body shudders gorgeously as he moves back to lean against one of the dryers. The sight of the pink swipe of his tongue darting out to lick at your panties has you practically gushing between your legs.

Then, another soft sound, this time a desperate little groan of your name wisps through the air as König’s hips start to roll against his hand. The tiniest little wet spot forms on his pants where the head of his cock rests.

“You taste so good, mein häschen.”

Then, his thick fingers move towards his belt.

Oh.

You bite your lip, debating on what you should do. The intoxicating thrill that bubbles in your tummy at the thought of watching König stroke his cock to the scent of your pussy is outrageously tempting. But…this is a messy situation. You really shouldn’t be spying on him. But then again, he really shouldn’t be stealing your panties and using them to jerk off.

Fuck. But König wants you too, doesn’t he? He’s pent up and desperate, straining against his pants and you can help him with that.

Stealing your resolve, you drop your hoodie, enter the laundry room and then slowly close and lock the door behind you.

Another hot groan escapes König’s mouth. He opens his eyes, those blue pools all glassy and love drunk until they fall on you. The moment his brain registers that you’re in the room with him, König’s entire body jolts as if he’d been hooked up to a car battery.

“Scheisse!”

The mountainous man drops your panties like they’d bitten him, his mask falling back into place as his blue eyes widen into saucers filled to the brim with panic.

“Ah—uh—G-guten morgen! I s-see that you’re still on laundry duty.”

König hips shift. He’s clearly trying to hide the massive tree trunk in his pants from your line of sight. A cheeky little grin spreads across your lips.

‘Yeah, good luck with that, big boy.’

“I am.” You confirm, making your way towards him. König’s eyes follow you like a hawk, the subtle quick rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he’s still flustered.

Stopping at the discarded panties on the floor, you reach down and pluck them between your fingers. The dark, wet stripe of where König’s tongue had been is clear for you both to see. The heat that pools in your gut as a response nearly has you jumping the man’s bones.

“What were you doing with my panties?” You softly ask, your gaze meeting König’s before lowering down to his cock.

The man freezes up like a statue.

“I—uh—I…”

He’s speechless, and you’re going to take advantage of that. Stepping forward, you close the distance between yourself and König. Once you’re close enough, you place your hand on the throbbing dick trapped in his pants.

König inhales sharply, steading himself against the dryer with his powerful hands. The wet little patch on his pants grows, and you feel him shyly push his cock against your hand just a little bit harder.

Cute.

Licking your lips, you start to palm him, the heat and size of König’s cock makes your heart race and your pussy throb. Being this close to him, you realize that the tip of your head barely even reaches the height of his clavicle.

Fuck, he’s so huge and powerful. This man could absolutely bend you into whatever shape he wants. You’ve seen him in action many times before and you know full well that König is not a force to be messed with. And yet here he is, complete and total putty in your hands.

Then with a coquettish little wink, you reach for König’s pocket and slowly stuff your panties inside.

“You know,” You whisper. “If you want to lick my pussy, König, all you have to do is ask.”

Before you even realize that’s happening, König’s massive arms encircle your waist and haul you into the air with absolutely no effort at all.

Gasping in surprise, your breath is stolen from your lungs as König turns you both around, and after another quick flurry of movement you find yourself pinned against the top of one of the dryers. Pinned, secured, and at the utter mercy of König’s incredible strength.

Your pussy practically weeps.

“Can I then?”

You try and catch your breath, eyes locking with König’s blue ones. You realize that König no longer has a look of startled panic. Instead, those eyes of his are hooded, lust filled, and they are staring directly at you.

“W-what?”

König’s scorching fingers brush against the band of your pajama shorts, teasingly grazing the sensitive skin of your navel.

“Can I eat your cunt, leibling?”

You shudder, heat pooling between your thighs at the hungry growl following König’s words.

“Yes.”

Your shorts and panties are off you faster than you can blink. And you watch—totally breathless—as König lifts his mask up just enough to reveal his mouth before diving his lips and tongue between the folds of your pussy.

Your body arches, crying out softly as König’s stubbled chin and cheeks scratch pleasurably against your skin. His tongue immediately flexes then flicks against your clit before diving back down to your entrance to lap at your taste.

“Fuck,” König groans sensually, his hands snaking around your hips to grip and pull you closer—burying his face deeper into you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

You gasp as König’s fingers dig roughly into your flesh, his hot moans vibrating against your clit. Your hips will be decorated with bruises later no doubt, and that thought makes you purr with unabashed ecstasy.

“M-more!” You beg, your hips rutting against König’s mouth. “König, please don’t stop.”

“You want more?” König hums. “Gut. I’ll give you more.”

Those blue eyes flash to yours, and your pussy practically melts as he dives back down to tongue at your cunt—but not before giving you a little cheeky grin first.

God, he’s such a dork. An adorable, massive dork. And you are so head over heels for him.

Your thoughts scatter as König sucks and licks and laps at your flesh. His lips circling and sucking at your clit, his tongue caressing your folds, his breath hot as he whispers hushed praise against your skin in his native language. He feels so good.

And you want to touch him. You’re so desperate to touch him. But you have to admit, there is something so incredibly sexy about having a man—this man—go down on you while he’s wearing his mask. You don’t even know what he really looks like, but at this moment you realize that you don’t even care.

“König,” You pant, thighs trembling as you get closer to your climax.

“Mmm. You’re close, leibling.”

A statement, not a question.

“Y-yes.” You keen, arching up as he circles your clit once more.

König groans then sucks at your clit, rolling the engorged bud against his tongue as his right hand comes up to your cunt. You groan as he works to drench his fingers with the slick between your folds.

“Need to have something inside you, ja?” He probes your entrance with his thick fingers. “Want to squeeze down on me as you come?”

“Please!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut as that powerful wave of pleasure crests—on the verge of crashing and pulsing through your body like a storm.

“Yes! König, pleeeease!”

And as König’s sinks two of his thick fingers inside you, you feel him smile against your cunt.

“That’s my good girl. Come on my fingers, häschen.”

König pumps his thick digits deeper inside you, stroking along your walls and lapping at your clit with such force that your body has no choice but to succumb to your orgasm with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

Your release rips a high pitched cry from your throat as your back arches and you writhe against König’s hands and mouth. You can faintly hear him curse under his breath, moaning brokenly as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and laps up every drop of your release like a man starved.

“That’s it.” He whispers with reverence. “So pretty when you come in my hands, leibling.”

König takes his time helping you ride out your high, his mouth not leaving you until the last of your pleased little shivers leaves your body. Then, he pulls away, licking his lips as he lets his mask fall back down again.

“König,” You mewl, the thrumming pleasure in your body still burning strong as you reach for the front of his pants.

“I want your cock.”

The massive man groans, his blue eyes shutting tight in an effort to restrain himself. You palm at him, desperately wanting to feel the weight of his body on yours. You want to know what it feels like to be filled up to the brim with him.

But König shakes his head.

“We’ll have time for that later.”

“But—”

The feeling of König’s fingers pressing up against your pussy once more interrupts your sentence.

“You’re very small here, leibling.” König coos. “We’ll have to take our time preparing you to take my cock.”

A debaucherous little shudder courses through your body at his words. Patience is a virtue they say. But right now, it feels a little more like torture.

You’re about to argue with König, when suddenly a resounding knock bangs against the laundry room’s door. Your bodies freeze like a deer in headlights as you both hear one of your superiors angrily calling your name.

“Hey! Are you in there? What is this hoodie doing out here and why is the door locked? Open this door immediately!”

You and König stare at one another.

Shit. Caught red handed for the second time today.

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#call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig call of duty #konig smut #cod smut #jellywrites

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kedsandtubesocks · 1 month

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seasons of you (year 1 - spring)

Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance

word count: 5.4k

a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.

For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.

“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”

At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.

He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.

“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.

After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.

It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.

Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.

Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.

One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.

From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.

But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.

“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.

Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.

“You alright?!”

The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.

Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.

You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.

“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.

“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.

“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.

He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.

“What happened!?” He barks confused.

Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.

“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.

Joel sighs angrily.

“Come on.”

Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.

“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.

“I’m fine.” You snap back.

“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.

Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.

It’s larger than your grandpa's.

Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.

So you let your eyes wander.

Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.

Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.

After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.

“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.

You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.

“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”

You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.

“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.

“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.

“Not all the time.” He replies.

You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.

He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.

“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”

Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.

“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.

“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.

You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.

Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.

“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.

A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.

“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”

“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.

“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.

“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.

You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.

“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”

There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.

“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.

“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”

You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.

“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”

Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.

“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.

This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.

“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.

Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”

You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.

“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.

Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.

“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.

“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”

You snort at that.

“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.

Joel chuckles.

It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.

“Alright, all fixed up.”

The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.

“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.

“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.

“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.

This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.

Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.

“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.

“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”

He hums a noise of acknowledgment.

Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.

“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.

He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.

Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.

“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.

Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.

“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.

It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.

“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.

“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.

Joel nods and with that you head out.

You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.

But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.

You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.

When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.

- ☼ -

Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.

His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.

You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.

Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.

Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.

Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.

Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?

Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.

You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.

By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.

Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.

The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.

You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.

The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.

A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.

Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.

You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.

“Where y’heading?”

You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.

When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.

Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.

“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.

“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.

Alone with Joel Miller once again.

The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.

Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.

“No new crops coming in?”

“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”

“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.

“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.

“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.

You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.

“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”

You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.

A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.

You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.

“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.

“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”

“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.

Kid.

“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.

Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.

“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”

A daughter. He’s a dad.

It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.

“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.

“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”

So he’s an empty nester.

Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.

Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.

“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.

“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.

Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.

“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”

“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.

“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.

You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.

“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”

The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.

You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”

“Takes after me.” Joel nods.

“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.

“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”

A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.

“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.

Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.

“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.

There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.

Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.

“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.

You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.

Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.

“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.

Maria yells out Joel’s name again.

“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.

The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.

But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.

Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.

Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.

“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.

“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.

Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.

“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”

You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.

“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.

Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.

Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.

Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.

Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.

So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.

Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.

- ☼ -

The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.

The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.

“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.

He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.

Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.

With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.

“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.

Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.

“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.

“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.

He’s Joel’s brother.

“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.

You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.

“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”

Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.

You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”

A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.

“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.

Yet his eyes remained glued on you.

You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.

“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.

Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.

Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.

“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”

Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.

Shit.

You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.

Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.

Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.

At least this will be over soon.

The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.

His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.

“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.

Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.

“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”

Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.

Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.

He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.

For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.

“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.

“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.

Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.

Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.

“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.

“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.

“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.

He continues walking alongside you.

Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.

“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.

“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.

“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.

You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.

“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.

Joel however rolls his eyes.

“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.

It sounds like a promise.

You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.

“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”

He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.

Joel is walking you home.

And he called you sprout.

You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.

Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he’s trying to keep you focused.

To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.

Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.

Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.

He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.

“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.

Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.

It feels different seeing him here.

Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.

Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.

“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”

Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.

“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.

“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.

When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.

However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.

So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.

“Wait how will I know you made it back?”

Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.

A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.

“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.

You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.

A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.

Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.

You wish so badly to wave back.

Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.

Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.

Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.

Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.

Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.

Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.

#I blame this on the Stardew valley update and thinking of sheep farmer Joel and here we are lol #but wow this au means so much and im so grateful to write this and if you read this me & Joel love you & are giving you a stardrop #joel miller x f!reader #farmer!joel miller #Joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller x you #stardew valley au #seasons of you fic series #Joel 🤎#pedrostories

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 6 months

Note

Please let Astarion meet Tav's family and have a younger sibling like 6 be like im gonna marry the prince points at Astarion.

Tav : Sorry, im married to the prince

NO IM GONNA MARRY THE PRINCE

That's so fucking cute kill me. But I just realized AFTER I finished it I read this wrong 😭😭 I read it as "marry" instead of "married" so whoops now it's an asking for your hand in marriage fic.

Also, I'm going to make this a weird little, unofficial, alternate reality, off shoot of this fic to explain away why Astarion can be in the sun without ascending because I am ~lazy~

Quick summary if you didn't read it, Tav serves Selune, gets a blessing for all the good work, and uses it to cure the anti-light issue of the vampirism (but not all of it). It's not a literal extension of that fic but I'm stealing my own plot explanations. That's it! Now here we go:

Astarion wasn't nervous per se. He was just... on edge. And the two-week journey it took to get here wasn't helping things, not when it gave him so much time to ruminate in his thoughts. He never expected to be in the position of "meeting the family," let alone in anticipation for asking for someone's hand in marriage.

Astarion wasn't even quite sure how his life got here. He had always fantasized that a life without Cazador would be one of selfish hedonism, not one where he would be legitimately concerned about a damn six year old sibling's first impression of him.

But then you came along, effortlessly shattering all of his grandiose plans with a batt of your eyelashes. Perhaps the entire journey of falling in love was more complicated, but it felt like it was that simple. In hindsight, he never stood a chance against you, but it was hilarious that there was a time he ever thought he did.

All of his prior dreams and fantasies felt like nothing in comparison to just being with you. It had been a year since you both saved the Sword Coast, a beautiful, fantastic year. That had ended with him somehow more in love with you now than when he first confessed. Selune's blessing had certainly helped with that he was sure. He still couldn't quite believe that you would use a god's blessing on him of all people, but gods, was he appreciative. Because being able to walk in the sun again meant that he could live the life he wanted, with no restrictions. He could be the partner you deserved, the kind that a father would happily say yes to when asking for your hand.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma. Perhaps he hadn't seen any of your family members in the time you'd been together, but he had heard plenty. You loved them all to death, especially your little sister. You wrote to them constantly, the mere sight of a letter from your parents enough to put you in a great mood for the rest of the day. He was aware that your mother was supposedly a saint, a fact that your own father had instilled in you often. He knew that they had a wonderful, loving marriage and were both higher ups in the Church of Selune. A fact that Astarion didn't particularly enjoy.

As grateful to the moon goddess as he was, he was aware that you were an expectation to the very normal belief that vampires were bad. And that marrying one was one of the stupidest things you could ever do from an average person's perspective, let alone a Selunite.

Why you hadn't done the smart thing and lied about what he was, Astarion would never know. But he did know that the thought of their rejection over his admittedly sordid history was putting him in a tailspin.

"They're going to love you," You said for the hundredth time, giving his hand a squeeze as you led him up the steps to your childhood home, "You have nothing to worry about sweetheart. I promise."

Astarion highly doubted that, but you were already knocking on the front door before he had a chance to argue. The door instantly slammed open, a beaming child already launching themselves at you before Astarion could process what was happening.

But you were more prepared them he was. You effortlessly caught them in your arms, laughing at their excited shouting, "Titi! You're late!"

So this was the famous Arabeth.

"No, I'm not!" You laughed as you settled her on your hip, "And what happened to my little girl's manners huh? You haven't even introduced yourself yet."

The child glanced over at him, like she was just realizing for the first time that someone else was standing over there. She looked a little shocked at the sight of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Wide enough for Astarion to start to wonder if something was on his face.

He gave her a little wave only for her to bury her face into your shoulder, peeking out at him with her lips pursed. Which was not the best start to the whole making his darling's family actually like him plan.

"Well, as you've probably guessed this is Arabeth. She's just a little shy," You reassured as you stepped inside, muttering a quick invitation inside under your breath. He appreciated that, he didn't need the whole house to be reminded of his... limitations.

"But she'll get over it soon enough," You continued as you called into the house, "Mom? Dad? We're here!"

And just like that they were rushing into the room, acting just as excited as your sister had been. Your mother wasted no time in smothering your face with kisses while your father swept you up into a hug. It was a rather impressive display of coordination, considering how they hadn't managed to knock you and your sister to the floor in the process. Astarion was pretty sure they were both saying something along the lines of We missed you! But it was hard to tell with all of you so tangled up in each other.

It was heartwarming to see, in all honestly. Of course such a loving person would come from an equally loving family, what else would he expect?

Though he certainly hadn't been expecting for your mother to throw her arms around him next. She brought him into a tight hug before looking him up and down, "So you're Astarion huh?"

She turned back to you, grinning ear to ear with her hands set on Astarion's shoulders, "He's so handsome! Selune help us, do you remember the last boy you brought home? He had a nose the length of my arm-"

"And that's enough of that," You said with a strained laugh, pulling your eccentric mother back a few inches, "And we've talked about the impromptu hugs. What happened to asking for permission?"

"Sorry, sorry!" She said with a wave of her hand, "Let me try again. I'm Seliras, and this is my husband-"

"Marcoul," Your father interrupted, putting his hand out for Astarion to shake, "It's been awhile since we've met a boyfriend."

"He's a little more than that," You said with a sigh as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"We'll be the judge of that," Marcoul said with a sharp but friendly grin, the grip he had on Astarion's hand briefly tightening before he let go, "From what we've heard, you're quite the character aren't you?"

Ah, so the interrogating was starting early then. It was nothing that Astarion hadn't expected. Besides, turning up the charm was his strong suit, even when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Astarion smiled back at him, "You've heard right. And I'm more than happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Oh gods please don't say that," You groaned, but it was too late. Your parents were already leading him to sit, rapid-fire questions coming out of their mouth.

Where are you from? How did you meet? Are you serious about our Tav? What's your religion? Where's your family? What are your plans?

But Astarion answered them all, with only mild censorship for the child's sake. The child who suddenly couldn't stop staring at him. It wasn't exactly easy to sell himself as a future husband when he was a vampiric ex-slave, but he made do.

It was an overwhelming experience to say the least, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. That was one good thing about trying to marry into a family of zealots, it was a lot easier to convince them of your virtue when you received a personal blessing from their goddess.

By the end of the night, they were all throughly appeased, enough so to get off the topic of him for a moment.

"You look a little young to have a thirty-year old child," Astarion said to your mother. He was actively trying to compliment her for obvious reasons, but he was also genuinely curious. She barely looked a day over 40.

"Oh we breed young," She said with a laugh, "We had Tav in our teenage years. Arabeth came much, much later. Our favorite little surprise. Gods, I can't think of a single person in our family who didn't have kids young. Our little Tav is the only exception to the rule."

"But maybe not for much longer, huh?" Marcoul added with a grin, yelping when you lightly smacked him over the head for the comment.

"Do not start the kid talk again!" You hissed out, cheeks red, "We've talked about this!"

Astarion couldn't help but grin at your reaction, charmed by your embarrassment. Though... the idea of the two of you having children together sure was an interesting thought.

Astarion felt a tug on his sleeve while you were distracted arguing with your parents. He turned, smiling when he saw your little sister standing there, still staring at him with wide-eyes.

She took a deep breath before blurting out, "You look like a prince. Are you?"

"Not exactly," Astarion said with a small laugh. That couldn't be further from the truth, "There's no blue blood in my veins."

She frowned, cocking her head at him like he wasn't making any sense. But then an idea obviously struck her as she excitedly asked, "But if you married a princess, then you'd become a prince too. Right?"

"I suppose?" Astarion answered with a shrug.

"So if I become a princess, and I marry you, then you'll be a prince?"

This conversation was quickly becoming out of his depth. But luckily enough for him you were swooping in to save him.

You laughed at her question, turning your attention back to the two of them, "No offense Bethy, but I'm going to be the one marrying this particular prince."

But Arabeth wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, looking at you like she was the one talking to a child, "You can't. Because if I don't marry him, he won't be a prince. So there. I have to do it."

She looked so serious, her facial expressions incredibly similar to your own. Astarion was holding back a loud laugh as you tried and failed to reason with her, "I can marry him without the royal status-"

"No! I'm marrying the prince!"

Your parents were doing a much worse job at hiding their reactions, both of them opening giggling behind their hands as you came up with a compromise.

"Okay, okay," You said with a sigh, kneeling down to look the small girl in the eye, "How about this? I marry him first. But only until you become a princess. Then he's all yours. Sound fair?"

She thought about it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Sounds fair."

Well Astarion wasn't going to get a better set-up then that. He turned to your father, his nerves coming back for a brief appearance, "I'm assuming now might be a good time to ask what I came here to ask. Though I do promise I only intending on asking for one of your children's hand in marriage."

Marcoul nodded slowly, his face unreadable as he spoke, "I mean no offense when I say this Astarion, but you aren't exactly who I imagined for my daughter."

"Dad don't-"

"Darling, let him finish," Astarion gently interrupted, his eyes still locked with your father's.

He took a deep breathe before continuing, "That said, I've never seen her so... herself with someone else before. So yes. The two of you can marry. On one condition."

"Anything," Astarion said instantly, nearly giddy at the fact that he was so close to the official yes, "Just name it."

"You have to have the wedding here," Seliras answered for him, a massive smile on her face, "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"And I get to be flower girl!" Arabeth chimed in, her past indignation completely forgotten as she climbed all over you, "And there has to be chocolate cake!"

"Oh gods, help us," You groaned, but Astarion was already nodding along. He couldn't give less than two shits where it happened or who was involved. He could scarcely believe that it was happening at all. But that was the last thing he had needed.

He already had the ring, the most amazing person he could ever fathom being with. Who actually wanted him back.

Now all he had to do was ask.

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soullumii · 9 months

Text

if my heart’s gonna break | joel miller x f!reader

part 1 (read part 1 before reading this!)

summary: a couple nights later, you head back to joel’s

warnings: 18+!!!! smut again. unprotected piv. fem!afab!reader. angst again don’t worry i’ll make a happy ending okay

word count: 4k

joel mod in gif is by speclizer (so fucking hot oh my GODDDD)

a/n: finally finished part 2 omg i’m sorry for the wait yall… i’m a perfectionist it’s lowkey debilitating. anyways… i hope u guys enjoy <3 tysm for the support on part 1 and tbh on all my other fics too… i can’t believe ppl like my writing that much. i am very grateful! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

im scared but if my heart's gonna break before the night will end

i said we're in danger

sleeping with a friend

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You cant stop thinking about the kiss.

The kiss that honestly shouldn’t mean so much to you. You’ve kissed him, like, so many times. So many times his tongue has been in your mouth, been in your damn vagina. So why the fuck… why the fuck are you so worked up over this right now?

It’s just…it was so heavy. It felt like…like more than just a kiss. Like he was laying his life down for you, much like he does in patrols.

He… Joel… he usually never kisses right after sex. He recognizes in the post-coitus energy that things are different. They mean more. He has to know that. So… why now? Does he…?

No. You’re just in your head again. Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard. You’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before now. Maybe this… maybe this is regular.

But for your own psyche, you think you might have to set some ground rules.

There was always that main rule, that wretched, critical rule. The one you said to him on the first day of your strange exchange.

“Don’t go falling in love with me, cowboy.”

Well, to hell with that one, right? Pretty sure you’ve beaten that shit to death. Shattered all possible remains of it.

So more rules. More rules will have to do. Starting with:

No kissing.

Should be easy enough.

You’ll figure out the rest later. You have got to stop thinking about it, though, because you’re on the way to his house right now.

You knock swiftly on the door, and you swear you feel your heart drop into your pussy the moment he opens the door to reveal himself. A plain, black t-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, haphazardly tucked into a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. His graying hair is ruffled beyond belief, curling around his ears and falling over his forehead. In your fits of passion and desire a couple nights ago, you hardly realized it had grown longer. It looks nice.

This sleepy and soft Joel is not one you’ve seen in a while. Well, it’s not like you’ve seen him much lately anyway, with him having been gone and all. Still, it’s disorienting.

“Howdy,” he says.

“Um. Hi.” You try not to gawk. “Did…did I come at a bad time, or something?”

“No, not at all. I just got back from patrols… took a shower,” he says, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, strong arms crossing over his chest. There’s a tiny, barely perceptible smirk on his lips. “Need somethin’?”

You see it now, the water clinging to his hair, darkening it, beading at his temples like sweat. You follow a line of water trickling down his throat until it disappears behind his collar.

Rule 2: Don’t come over after he’s showered.

“I…uh, I can come back later if you want—“

You’re nervous to ask him what you want to ask him, which is honestly ridiculous considering you guys have been doing this for months now. You used to be able to just knock on his door and he’d pull you in, and it was that easy. Or you’d give him a look when in public, and he knew exactly what you needed.

Now, you’re painfully awkward. Curse him and curse your feelings.

He straightens a bit, his brows furrowing in slight concern. “What’s goin’ on?”

Heat spreads down your neck, embarrassment. Shame. It’s strange, how just a couple nights ago you let him finger you in public, and now you’re afraid to ask him for sex again in his house and for your panties back.

You should honestly just say something like:

I’m here for my underwear.

And you’re positive he’d say:

Want it back? You gotta earn it, sweetheart.

And your knees would buckle and you’d sink down to the carpeted floor in front of his couch and suck him off until he was coming down your throat, stroking back your hair and thumbing his cum on your plush bottom lip.

But instead you’re scowling at him and blurting: “I need a drink.”

How dare he leave you high and dry for three weeks, come back and fuck the shit out of you, make you realize you’re in love with him, and look this good?

God damnit, you need to get your shit together.

Joel’s eyes widen, surprised only slightly by your outburst, before he backs up to allow you inside his home. When he shuts the door behind you, his hand settles warmly on your lower back as he steers you toward the kitchen.

He immediately beelines for the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of red for you. A warm, tingly feeling stirs in your stomach at the fact that he knew you’d want wine. The frustration you’ve been feeling fizzles out.

“You know me so well.”

He gives you a light smirk, uncorking the bottle. The liquor gurgles as he pours it into a glass. “Think you’d kill me if I didn’t know after all this time.”

You laugh, “Sure, but the real test of friendship is if you knew how I’d kill you.”

“A swift kick to the nuts and then one of my guitars to my head.”

Your eyes widen on a guffaw. “You think I’d damage one of your guitars?”

“You care more about my guitars than my genitals?”

“Yes. Why would I ever smash one of your guitars?”

He rolls his eyes. “Kill two birds with one stone—my soul and my body. It’s effective. If you needed to kill me, I’d hope it was like that. Now how would I kill you?”

You hum in consideration. “Trick question. You wouldn’t—no, you couldn’t.”

“You know me so well.”

His words mirrored back at you so gently, with his brown eyes trained on you intently has the warmth in your belly spreading, making you drop your gaze.

His smirk grows and he hands you the wine glass and reaches for some homemade brandy. You watch the muscles in his arm flex as he pours, sipping daintily while your mind replays thoughts of filth. Of you dragging that arm between your legs, grinding down on it until—

“So, you really only here for a drink?” He asks with a playful lilt, taking a sip of his own beverage and effectively jolting you out of your daydreaming.

You lean against the island, wondering if you should tell him the truth. From the way he’s looking at you, hungrily and heated, like a lion ready to pounce, you’re tempted to.

But…you’re afraid. You can’t stop thinking about The Rule. The one you broke and the ones you just made. You wonder if whatever might happen between you two tonight will unravel them before you can even put them into place.

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pursed around the rim of the glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”

His eyes darken, tongue darting out to lick his lips of sweet fermented wine. His gaze travels up and down your figure, comfortable and breathable in a t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy and cute like your sundress from the other night, because today you had to work. But Joel has never minded what you’ve worn, swearing you always look sexy in anything.

Which is something that also makes you question this friends with benefits situation you have here.

He sets his glass down and eases in closer, curling an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “How high’s the chance then?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the probability that you really did only come here for a drink?” he drawls, eyes following your lips as your tongue dips out to wet them. “Or was there another reason?”

The cold tip of his nose brushes along your throat, lips ghosting over your skin. You tremble in his hold. “Odds are in favor of the first option,” you breathe, “ran out of alcohol at my place.”

“And you couldn’t just stop by the Bison? Had to steal from my stores?”

“You know you have the good stuff.”

“You’re lyin’ but I’ll pretend like you ain’t.”

That makes you laugh, and more tumble out of you when one of his hands traces lazily over your stomach, fingers light and delicate and teasing.

“So why d’ya need a drink?”

Because you’re driving me crazy. Because I’m driving myself crazy. Because the universe wants to fuck me over.

You smile and your free hand skates up his muscled back, your fingers brushing along the stretchy fabric of his tee, your voice soft. “Just needed to destress a little. Work has been intense.”

He grins back, presses it into the spanse between your throat and your shoulder, before he lightly scrapes his teeth over it and lays a gentle bite that has you keening into him, pressing your body against his.

“Well, I could help you destress another way too,” he murmurs, palm squeezing the pudgy flesh of your waist, fingers digging lightly into your muscle.

“Mm… yeah?” you hum, your voice a low purr, back arching. Your breasts press into his chest, and Joel makes a sound deep in his throat in agreement.

He presses you into the island, caging you in with his hands on either side of you. He towers over you, a sweatpant clad leg sliding between yours.

He leans down to kiss you, and a flashing light blares in your mind — NO KISSING — loud and bright and distracting. You turn your head at the last second, his lips landing on your cheek. But Joel doesn’t pull back, doesn’t question you. He just kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, mouthing at you. Sucking your skin to leave little marks that will either fade or be covered by concealer.

It used to upset you when he left marks because they’re a pain to cover up. Then, you started to like it. You didn’t mind covering up the marks because when you took the makeup off and saw them at the end of the day, all you could think about was him. About the how he made you come. About the words he muttered in your ear. About the feeling of his hands on you—in you.

Now, you’re starting to grow upset again, but this time it’s because you want to wear them proudly. Want people to know he gets to claim you like this. But… you can’t. But you also don’t want him to stop.

You allow him to continue marking you up, his hand coming up to rest behind your skull, holding you in place. You press your body into his eagerly and with desperate, soft noises that he returns with placating moans.

And then he shifts, and his thigh ruts against your clothed core, and you moan lightly, airily, grinding your hips down against him, searching for any friction.

His hands curl around the hem of your white tee, and he peels it off your body. One skates behind your back to easily undo the clasp of your bra, and then your breasts are heavy and on display for him.

Joel stares down at you with heavy eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

Longing claws at your chest, and you look up at him coyly, your lip caught between your teeth. Joel groans like he’s in pain, and squeezes along the underside of one of your breasts before leaning down to close his mouth over the nipple while his other hand gives attention to the other, squeezing and pinching. Your hands find purchase in his damp hair as low moans tumble from your lips.

When he’s deemed one nipple adequately appreciated, he moves onto the next. Licking, revering, his dark eyes peering up at you while his peppered hair is fisted in your hands. The sight has slick arousal pooling in your underwear.

Eventually he pulls back and his hands clamp down on your hips. He guides you along the muscle of his thigh, your clit pulsing at the contact.

“Want you to come on my thigh, baby.” His voice is a ragged slur of words against your ear, warm and paired with a kiss to your cartilage.

“Fuck…yes, Joel,” you whimper, sparks flying through your nerves with each roll of your hips.

His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him as you rut against his thigh. He’s grinning, eyes heavy lidded and deep, dark like wet tar. They suck you in as if they were quicksand.

You’d let him drag you under a million times over.

Your best friend.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling yourself grow close. Standing at the cliff's edge. His eyes bore into yours, his grin slipping as he focuses on you. Focuses on making you shatter atop him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it. You can come,” he says encouragingly, fingers stroking the skin of your hip. You feel tears prick your eyes as the waves crash, spreading from your throbbing clit along your muscles. Filling you with warmth, stronger and deeper than the buzz from the wine.

“Good job,” he praises gently. “Did so good.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

He laughs, and despite yourself, heat floods your body, throbs between your thighs. His words caress a deep, carnal animal inside of you, and the hunger takes over.

You frantically pull at his shirt until he has to tell you to slow down, and takes it off himself. Your hands run along his chest and stomach the moment they’re able to and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm his hardening cock through the soft, gray fabric. Joel groans deep and heavy, his lashes fluttering as he stares you down. His hips thrust into your palm automatically. Involuntarily.

God, that makes you light up like a firefly. Makes your nerves sing and your cunt flutter and your mind go numb.

He tugs down your shorts and underwear and sets you on top of the granite, but before he can strip the underwear from your ankle to no doubt pocket this pair like he did the other, you flick it off your foot across the kitchen. It lands somewhere near the door to the dining room.

He can’t steal all your underwear, or you’ll have none left.

“I wanted those,” he drawls, expression on the edge of a pout.

“Yeah, well I need them. It’s not common to come across a good pair of panties in this world.”

“But I’d give ‘em back.” He’s full on pouting now. It is, unfortunately, very cute, but you’re used to it.

“Sure… like the pair you took from me the other night that I have yet to receive.”

“How else am I supposed to get you to come over?”

“I dunno? Maybe ask?”

“Should I leave a note on your door? Is that good enough for you?”

“At least be classy. A letter delivered in my mailbox with a wax stamp, please.”

He laughs. “As you wish, Princess.”

He finally peels off his sweatpants, free of underwear beneath them, and you watch with barely concealed hunger as his cock springs free.

And while you like the idea of him fucking you on the counter, you’d much rather him fuck you against the counter, so you hop down and turn so your back faces him. Your hands curl around the granite lip of the counter top, and you push your ass out and back, peering at him over your shoulder.

This way, it’s easier for him not to kiss you. Easier for you to turn your head and deny your lips to him.

“Look at you…” Joel hums appreciatively at your show, at the wiggle of your hips as his palm smooths down your back and over your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh.

You moan quietly, and Joel’s eyes darken, watching you intently like you’re the only thing in the room.

His fingers drift down to your cunt and your slickness coats his fingers fully. You’re so wet for him. So ready for him to bury himself inside you and call you his.

It’s funny, you’ve lost all your heat from a few nights ago. All your sharp edged words. Now, you’re soft and pliant.

He swirls his soaked index and middle fingers along your clit, punctuating your sensitivity, before sliding them back inside you to the knuckle. You keen and push back, desperate for more. His fingers are so much longer than yours, thicker, and yet you crave more.

“That’s it, Joel,” you huff. “Fuck, feels so good. Need more.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

Shame lights your cheeks, but you push down the embarrassment. “Need…need your cock inside me.”

He lays a kiss on your neck. “Still a bit desperate aren’t we?”

“You’re the desperate one, Mr. Panty Stealer. You’re a fucking creep.”

He chuckles against your neck, but he squeezes your ass in retaliation. “Be nice, would you?”

“You like it when I’m mean.”

“Wanna see how much I like it?”

“If you’re willing to show me and get on with this, sure.”

He huffs in amused frustration. “God, you’re annoyin’.”

You just smile innocently at him.

Your legs tremble, slick running down your thighs when Joel pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with the hardness of his cock, of which he runs along your wetness, readying himself.

“I think ‘bout you way too much,” he says into your back, pressing a gentle kiss there. “D’ya think ‘bout me too?”

It’s an odd question. One you’re not expecting. One that has your heart stuttering in quiet confusion from this sudden switch in tone.

“Of course I do.” Obviously. You told him as much. Three weeks. Three weeks you thought about him.

“Good… wanna be the only thing on your mind.”

A high pitched keen hisses through your teeth as Joel eases himself inside you with a long, slow stroke and a low moan. Your fingers white knuckle the countertop, gripping it tightly.

He presses in close, burying himself all the way in before he withdraws slowly, his cock sliding inside you torturously.

“Joel,” you moan.

“I know, baby.” He presses kisses to your shoulders.

Joel’s hand gravitates to the back of your knee, and he slowly pushes up to lift your leg until your knee is resting on the counter.

And then… with this new angle…he starts fucking you in earnest.

His hips snap against your ass, the sound deafening in the kitchen, and you crumple against the granite with a moan.

“Shit,” Joel grunts. “Yeah.”

Each of his heavy thrusts punches the air from your lungs, and your fingers slip on the countertop, scrabbling for purchase every chance you can get. He’s hot, thick inside you, warm as he folds over you, his hand on your tummy holding you upright, the other keeping your leg up to continue hitting you at that pleasant, delicious angle.

“H-holy shit—oh—“

He breathes heavily at your neck, low grunts and moans escaping his lips from his efforts. “Could spend eternity inside you, darlin’. Fuck, you’re mine.”

Your heart stutters, the words uttered in a lust filled craze, likely meaning nothing. But to your traitorous brain, to the hope lingering in your chest like a persistent cough, they mean everything.

“All…” you’re losing your train of thought, fucked into blissful nothingness. “All yours, Joel.”

It’s too difficult for him to kiss you from this angle, which you’re relieved about. But a part of you longs for it, longs for the feel of his mouth moving against yours.

Joel’s strong arm wraps around your chest, and pulls you up so you’re flush against his back as he pounds up and into you. Keens and whimpers and breathless pants escape you with every thrust.

“Please, Joel,” you cry, tears pricking at the edges of your swirling vision.

“What, baby?” He huffs. “Need’a come?”

You nod crazily. “Yes—need to—“

“Shhh okay… I’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the hand wrapped around your tummy inching down to circle at your clit steadily.

Your legs buckle beneath you but Joel keeps you upright as the pleasure soars through you, sudden and strong. He strokes you through it, groaning praises into your ear before he comes inside you a moment later.

The two of you hiss in tandem when he pulls out, but he smothers it when he lays his mouth over yours. You’re hardly coherent enough to remember your rule, and for a moment you let him kiss you. You kiss him back, chasing the heat of his mouth with your own, moaning against his lips when his tongue dips into your mouth.

Then, you remember.

You pull back panting, cheeks a flame, “Joel.”

“Hm?” He murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw before moving back up to pull you into another kiss. You move away before he can. His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… I don’t think we should kiss anymore.”

He blinks. “What? Why?”

Your eyes flit across the kitchen, catching on labeled jars and wooden spoons and spices, anything but his own. “It’s too intimate.”

It’s a lame excuse. Joel sees through it immediately.

“And my cock inside you ain’t?”

You sigh heavily, avoiding eye contact. “It’s different.”

“How? Enlighten me.” His tone has gone rougher. Hurt swirls in his eyes, and you feel worse than you did the other night.

Because you and I are friends. Because I don’t think I can pretend like that’s the truth when all I want is to call you mine. Because when I kiss you it’s like my world finally starts to make sense.

“Please, Joel. Just…I don’t want to do it anymore. Can you respect that, please?”

He runs a hand down his beard, his hurt expression hardening into a stoic one you haven’t been on the receiving end of in years. Fuck. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t kiss you anymore.”

You expect relief but all that comes is a deep longing and sadness that you try to push to the depths of your conscience. Though, like a buoy, it keeps popping above the surface.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

The cleanup is awkward. He watches you silently as you pick up your underwear and slide them and your shorts back on. He seems far away, here and gone all at once. It makes you worry, makes you wonder if what you just said was the biggest mistake of your life.

But you have to do this. You have to hold him at arm's length because if you admit to him…if you tell him how you really feel… maybe he really will leave you. He’ll realize you’ve gone and fucked everything up, and the friendship you’ve kindled, the trust you’ve built, will all be for nothing.

You can’t lose him, even if it means you can’t keep him close.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say eventually, when he’s walking you out the front door.

He smiles at you, faint and untrue. It’s like the one from the other night. Like that laugh he forced out for you. You feel like a Joel from the past has teleported to the present, with his thin smile and his hard eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“You okay?”

Joel frowns, shifts on his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… I don’t know. Never mind.”

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “You need me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum. A moth circles the porch light. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. He looks as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” is all that he says.

“Okay,” you repeat, feeling empty. A waif, a lonely white flag waving in the wind. “Um, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Night, darlin’,” he says, squeezing your arm, like he’s trying to be normal. It doesn’t work. His hand is cold. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Joel.”

It’s raining by the time you reach your house, and you curl under your blankets after a shower, your hair cold and wet against your scalp, listening to the droplets splattering against your window.

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

part 3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #tlou #game joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #this is trouble

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warmaidensrevenge · 3 months

Text

It's not a never.

Pairing: Eddie x best friend!Fem reader

A/N: Hey loves. Hope you all had a great week. Tonight's fic is part one of two. I hope all you like it. As always thanks for reading. Kay love ya byyyye.

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else. Please respect all creators. Also, all pictures and songs are from a Google search and found on Spotify. A credit to original posters and artists. Thank you for your work.

Word count: 3,045

Warnings: 18+ No minors please. Language, angst, sexual implications and not proof read.

Summary: New feelings? Yeah Eddie's got it bad.

Part 1

Eddie looked around the cafeteria table at his friends. “ Uhhhh you're joking…you gotta be joking…pfff that's hilarious.”

Everyone sat there in silence.

“ Guys? Seriously?! No way! No fuckin way!” He said, putting his hands up. “ Nope!”

He locked eyes with you and raised his brows. “ Common, you agree with me right?”

You averted your gaze to your lunch and shrugged.

He looked at the imbecile that brought up the subject in the first place. “ You turned her against me!”

Gareth scoffed. “ Dude no. All I'm trying to say is that prom is like a highschool right of passage. I don't know about you, but I don't want to miss out.”

Eddie tuts and narrowed his eyes at him. “ Miss out on what exactly? Penguin suits?”

You answered his question. “ You guys don't have to wear tuxedos. You can wear all black. Like always.”

He shot you a look and you smiled at him.

He rolled his eyes. “ Okay how about shitty music?”

You answered again. “ They're bound to play something good.”

He gave snake eyes now to you and you stuck your tongue at him.

“ Okay how about all of us are broke and we can't afford a limo?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he pressed his lips and widened his eyes at you.

Grant cleared his throat. “ Ehem. Well, you do have a van.”

Eddie licked his lips and looked at his lunch box. “ You guys are nuts. I'm admitting you all to Arkham…I-I can't believe you're trying to convince me to go to prom…Where the hell am I gonna find a date?”

“ Eddie, we're going together as a group. No dates.”

He looked up at you and you gave him a pout. God he hated when you did that. He could never say no when you put your lip out like that.

“Do you even own any dresses?” He asked sarcastically.

When you beamed at him, he gave you a defeated look. You'd convinced him.

You smirked.“ Oh you'd be surprised what I have in my closet.”

Eddie sat there and kept shaking his head while his friend talked about the plan for prom.

…

He couldn't believe it. Eddie absolutely could not believe he was doing this. He was driving to a damn dance. It was the last thing in the world he thought he would be doing. Yet here he was. Pulling up to the last stop before prom.

He lowered the music and parked in front of your house. He honked the horn and waited.

A minute passes and he sees your mom open the door. She then motioned for them to come in.

Eddie sighed when he saw her waving a camera. This was not a night he wanted to remember. Or there to be any evidence of it ever happening.

Everyone hopped out and walked to the house.

“ Oh my! You guys look sharp.” Victoria said, giving them each a hug.

Eddie grinned and gave her a warm embrace. “ Look who's talking. You look ravishing.”

Victoria playful slapped his chest. “ Oh you.”

“ Seriously Eddie? Dude, stop hitting on my mom.”

He turned his head to give you a smirk but instead his jaw nearly hit the floor.

There was only one word to describe how you looked coming into the foyer in your off the shoulders black satin dress.

Beautiful.

That word along with your name in the same sentence was not normal. Well other than him saying (That nat 20 was beautiful y/n.)

But now you are beautiful. Not that he thought you were ugly or something. It's just he never thought about that at all.

You were just one of the guys. A kid that liked to ride bikes and wrestle with boys. A kid that didn't care if you got dirty or cried when you scraped your knee.

You were one of his best friends and up until now, he never saw you as anything more.

“ Stop gawking dude.”

Your comment woke him up from his initial shock.

“ Ermmm. Y-you clean up alright kid.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “ Gee thanks. I appreciate that. You don't look awful yourself. I see you pulled out your funeral attire.”

He looked down at his black short sleeve button up and his uncle's black slacks. Along with his white Reeboks.

“ Well you did say-” he looked up and you turned around and went to say hi to everyone else.

You always did that. Whenever he was gearing up to argue, you would walk away. It always irritated the living fuck out of him. However, right now all he could do was smile to himself.

Before the group pictures you had gotten each of them a white rose to pin on their shirt. Eddie watched you smile happily as you and your mom put them on.

When it was his turn, his heart started to race. You were so close to him, he could smell your perfume. It was sweet and floral. Playful yet sexy. Something he could smell forever. He could just bury his nose in your neck and die happily.

He shook off the intruding thoughts and focused on your hands.

“ OUCH!” He hissed.

You pulled your hands away and looked up at him worriedly. He grinned and thought your forehead looked so cute when you pinched your brows together like that.

He grinned. “ Just kidding.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and mumbled under your breath. “ You dick.”

He chuckled and apologized.

…

You guys were sitting at a table near the exit in the gym. Talking amongst yourself. Eddie would have complained how they have been there for half an hour and the DJ has yet to play a passable song. Instead, he sat there wondering if he should ask you to dance. Would it be weird? No one else asked you yet. And he didn't think Gareth or Jeff would. Grant maybe. Because he liked all kinds of music and loved to dance. And he had a secret crush on you.

But Eddie had to beat him to the punch. He needed to know what it felt like to hold you close.

Just as his mind went haywire, he felt you tap his thigh and began spelling something out.

‘U- ok?’

He glanced at you and nodded. He always did like how you guys secretly communicated. He put his arm on the back of your chair and started writing on your back with his thumb.

‘Yeah- u?’

He kept his thumb pressed against your skin. Loving the warmth radiating from it and how smooth it was.

You wrote back. ‘Hungry.’

He looked down at your salad plate and it was empty. While cursing at himself for declining his salad that he should have given you, he searched around for more food.

He leaned in towards you when he found some. “I'll be right back.”

He got up and went for a plate when someone sat down in front of the one he was eyeing. He sighed and went on the hunt for another. It took a few minutes but eventually he was able to sneak one. When he came back he saw that you and everyone else at the table had a dinner plate already.

You grinned at him. “ I spoke too soon. But I'll totally eat that one too.”

He shook his head. “ I think all of us are gonna need 3 servings of this. With how much the tickets cost, they could at least give us more than an ice cream scoop of potatoes and a chicken wing.”

You agreed with him and offered to take them out for burgers after.

You guys were in the middle of eating when yours and his song came on. You immediately put down your fork and wiped the corners of your mouth.

“ Mhmmm. Okay! Let's go.” You said standing up. “ Let's do this.”

Everyone looked at each other and got up too. Except him.

“ Muuunnnnsooonn.” You sang out, walking backwards towards the dance floor. “ Common. This is our song dude. We have to.”

He chuckled while you pretended to cast out a line and start to reel him in.

He had no choice. He had to join and belt out the song with you.

What's goin on!”

While grabbing his hand, you started swaying with him and the others.

🎵

“ And so I wake in the morning and I step outside. And I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream at the top of my lungs.

🎵

Eddie re-lived all the memories you and him had.

All the times he was bummed or sick. You would show up with food and sing that song. When you had a bad day at school or got anything less than a ‘A’ on an assignment, he would wrap his arms around you and rock you back and forth. Singing at the top of his lungs. Making you laugh like crazy.

He liked hearing you laugh. Especially when you laughed so hard that you would let out a small snort. He also liked how your fingers felt, scratching his head when he had a headache. The way you hummed What's Up? always made him feel better.

Even now, seeing you rock back and forth, singing your heart out. It made an alright night to one he'll never forget.

…

A couple weeks went by and Eddie couldn't get you out of his head. After prom, everything went back to normal. Except his feelings. You weren't that kid anymore. You weren't just one of his best friends.

In addition to being that, you were a girl who he wanted to hold. Maybe kiss and have sleepovers. Well, a different kind of sleepover than he was used to.

He tried so hard to avoid you as much as possible during those weeks. But he eventually missed you, so he gave into whatever was taken over his heart.

All the times he hugged you hello and goodbye would last a little longer. He became more affectionate than he'd ever been. Random tickling you when it wasn't weird. Just so he could touch you. Or he constantly had his arm around your shoulders whenever you were together.

He thought no one would notice since it was so close to graduation. But he was wrong. Apparently he was doing it so much that Gareth had to pull him aside and talk to him.

“ What the hell's going on man?”

Eddie's eyes went wide. The jig was up. “ Ermmm hmmm? What's up?”

Gareth crossed his arms and stood quiet. That's all he needed to do to get Eddie to talk. That and a stare down.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “ I…I don't know what happened…one minute she's who she's always been and the next, she's not.”

Gareth tilted his head to the side and remained silent.

Eddie clicked his tongue and shook his head. “ Look man, I don't know what I'm doing. All I know is that I feel different.”

Gareth straightened his head and raised his brows.

Eddie let out a long sigh. “ Fine! I like her. I like her, like her.”

Gareth smirked and put a hand on his shoulder. “ Welcome to the club.”

Eddie jerked his head back. “ What the hell does that mean?”

Gareth laughed. “ Dude! We all had a crush on her at some point. Remember when Jeff needed help with the spelling bee in the 6th grade?”

Eddie nodded.

“ Well she helped him for a whole 2 weeks. Jeff swore he loved her after that. And Grant…well you know he always liked her. But it really hit him when she decked Jenny for calling him fatso.”

Eddie was quiet for a second. “ W-what about you?”

Gareth put his hands in his pocket and gave him a thin lip smile. “Uhhhh…so I broke my arm once. Before you moved here…She helped me out a lot during that summer. She did my chores and helped cut up my food sometimes… You know, she was the only one who signed my cast.” He smiled. “ She's a great friend. She always has been. Honestly, I'm surprised it did happen to you sooner.”

Eddie licked his lips and put his hands in his back pockets. They had all liked you because you helped them out or defended their honor. But you hadn't done anything different with him. Besides you looking incredible at the dance, there was nothing that he could think of that made him like you like that.

“ S-so all of you guys still like her like that?”

Gareth shook his head. “ Nah man. I knew that it was just a crush. And Jeff, well Jeff's dating Connie. Grant…Grant still likes her. He even tried to kiss her.”

Eddie flexed his jaw. “ What?! When?!”

“ Prom.”

“ PROM?!”

“ DUDE!” Gareth hushed him up. “ Calm down. You left to get food and he tried. But she let him down gently. She said that she sees him as a brother. In fact, she sees all of us as family. And it would be weird if she dated any of us.”

Eddie's heart sank. Did you really think that about all of them or just the 3 stooges?

“ Look Munson, don't worry about it. It will go away.”

“ What-what if it doesn't?”

Gareth shrugged. “ Then talk to her. Maybe she can say something that will make you feel better about it.”

All of sudden Eddie felt hands on his hips.

“ Hey ladies! What are we gossiping about?”

He turned slightly to find you staring up at him. His heart fluttered seeing your amazing smile.

Gareth spoke up when Eddie couldn't answer.“ uhhhh nothing. Just talking about Mrs O'Donnells final.”

You huffed and grabbed his hand. Pulling it over your shoulders. Lacing your fingers with his.

What did that mean? It was weird right? You and him were close. But now that he had feelings for you, everything you did seemed intimate.

“ Don't you guys worry, okay. I've helped both of you and you'll do fine. Then all of us are gonna walk the line and finally get the hell out of here.”

You looked up at him and beamed. Making him grin right back.

There was a moment there where he thought that you felt the same for him. But that was squashed when you let go of his hand and hook your arm around Gareth’s.

“ Now common. They're serving pizza and you know how I love pizza Fridays.”

He and Gareth chuckled and responded at the same time. “ More than us.”

You started for the cafeteria. “ You betcha!”

…

A week later and Eddie still couldn't shake you. He just couldn't get past the thought of being with you. Or even if what he felt was just a hard core infatuation. But nothing could prepare him for the events of senior outing.

It wasn't camping or a field trip to Washington. It was a movie in the park.

Sure, you guys could have rented a decent horror flick and binge out on snacks in your basement. But you argued that it was one of the last chances to hang out. So of course everyone went.

Eddie was walking back with Jeff. Hauling bags of popcorn and drinks for everyone. As soon as he was close enough he caught your eye. You bit your lip and waved him over.

He immediately felt butterflies in his stomach.

When he sat down you scooted closer to him and covered his legs with a blanket you brought.

You then grabbed your purse and pulled out his favorite candy.

He smiled and patted himself down. Pulling out a box of milk duds from his jacket pocket.

“ Awwww you remembered. Thanks.”

His eyes went wide when you gave him a peck on the cheek.

He had only a second of shock before he tried to brush it off. “ Of-of course. I could never forget.”

You happily rocked side to side as you combined the candy and popcorn. Then you held out a bite for him.

His heart started to race the closer your hand got to his mouth.

He closed his eyes and let you feed him.

Under any other circumstances, this was totally normal. You were very affectionate. It actually annoyed him most of the time. However this time, it only served to make him think you actually did like him too.

As the movie he couldn't pay attention to kept playing, he tried not to think about his “crush”. But it was a battle he was losing. Every time you would laugh, it would warm his heart. Every time you guys reached for popcorn at the same time, your fingers would touch. All he wanted to do was hold your hand or pull you closer by your waist.

Then like a sign from above, the wind picked up. You moved closer to keep warm. Out of nowhere you rested your head on his shoulder and put your hand on his upper thigh. That's when his breath caught in his throat. He tried to clear it and ended up coughing.

Without hesitation your reached over and lifted up your lemonade for him to take a sip.

He licked his lips and took a drink. After you put the cup down, you started tracing across his thigh.

‘Better?’

He gulped and nodded. “I uhh I'm gonna get us refills.”

He felt your eyes on him as he got up and grabbed your cup and his.

While he walked to the snack bar he tried to talk down a chubby. This wasn't okay. The way you made him feel was agonizing. But in such a good fucking way.

When he hit the stand there was a huge line.

Shit! He thought.

By the time he got back to the spot, you had moved to sit between Gareth and Grant. That's when he noticed you wearing Grant's leather coat. He instantly got jealous.

You looked up and gave him a small smile. “ Sorry Eddie. I got really cold while you were gone.”

He shook his head. “ It's cool. The line was long.”

Once he handed you your drink he plopped down and sulked.

Obviously his feelings weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

What the hell was he gonna do?

…

@salenorona23

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x plus size reader #eddie x oc #eddie x you #plus size reader #plus size girls #Spotify

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astravv · 7 months

Text

one of your girls || alhaitham x stripper! reader || multi-part

warning(s) : smutty fic, reader is a stripper

pairing(s) : alhaitham x female! reader

summary : modern au story. alhaitham owns a strip club where almost all of his girls have a thing for him. it’s no wonder since he’s so handsome. his club catches your eye. easy money, and dancing. something you are good at. a week into the job, you start to notice that alhaitham has been keeping an eye on you. maybe he’s taken a liking to you?

a/n : this idea came to me while I was listening to

the weeknd’s song “one of the girls” so if ur the type to listen to music while reading fics, there’s a good song to listen to for this fic.

—

you strut around the pole, swinging yourself around for all the men to see. you were your favorite pair of lingerie tonight. after all, it was a special night. it’s your birthday. some people wonder why you would work on your birthday, but you like to think that you’re treating yourself with all the stacked up cash drunk men like to throw at you.

after the song is over, you quickly collect your cash and continue to the back of the stage, giving a small smile to the next dancer coming on stage.

she was one of the more snarky girls. she was stuck up and always has an attitude. she’s also a blonde with a damn good body, so of course the men love her, and she knows that. she always makes you and the other dancers feel bad about how much you make when you see her fat wad of cash she brings off of stage every night. boss seems fond of her too. she brings him good business, after all.

you up to your assigned vanity and locker to lock up the cash you received for the night.

“going home soon, newbie?” one of the brunette girls asks.

“yeah actually, i better be getting home.” you shoot her a small, soft smile. she nods and goes back to cleaning up her makeup.

“wish you could’ve stayed longer, i just got here.” the brunette sighs, setting down her powder brush she had been using to fix her makeup up.

“i know, tonight is my birthday and i just want to do something special tonight.” you reply, grabbing your normal clothes out of the locker.

“well happy birthday, newbie.” she exclaims.

“thanks.” your voice trails off. you quickly get into your comfy clothes and start turning your vanity off and tidying up your area so you can leave. you then place all the cash you had made in your purse, and head out the back entrance. alhaitham always said to all the girls to leave out the back entrance because he didn’t want random intoxicated men bothering us and following us home. no one was allowed behind the office buildings, and even if they came back there, we had really good cameras.

before you walk out the door, you hear a familiar voice call out for you. you turn around to see alhaitham leaning out of his office door, urging you to come in.

you nod your head and follow your boss into his office. he pats the chair in front of his desk, signaling for you to sit down. you start to worry if you’ve done something to upset him, but nothing comes to mind. you’ve been on time to work, left on time, and have done good out on stage, at least you think so.

he sits down on the chair at his desk, looking into your eyes. you awkwardly sit yourself down in the chair and dust your pants off, waiting for him to speak.

“so y/n. i’ve taken a liking to you.” alhaitham begins, smiling softly. you’ve rarely ever seen the boss smile. granted, you haven’t been here for long, but still. nothing but a blank stare ever comes from him. “customers seem to like you too, they’re constantly asking when you’ll be out next.”

you anxiously nod.

“don’t tell the other girls, but i think you’re better than all of them. you’re gorgeous, have a nice body, beautiful eyes.” he tells you. “now i am just blabbering on, but it’s true. you are one of the prettiest girls i’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

alhaitham gets up from his chair and walks over to you, staring into your eyes the whole way. he reaches his hand up to your chin and pushes your face up, so he can get a better look at you.

“so pretty.” he mumbles.

“alhaitham, i-“ your voice trails off. he lets go of your face and smiles softly again.

“what’s wrong, babydoll?” he whispers.

“isn’t this unfair to the other girls?” you question, quickly standing up from the chair.

“it’s not like they’re competing for my love. they’re all here to make money. if they wanted my love they’d make more direct advances like that one allie girl.” he replies. “she’s obsessed with me. i don’t feel the same about her. she’s just like any ordinary girl. boring.”

“yeah, i guess.” you murmur under your breath.

alhaitham grabs your arm and pulls you close, his lips so close to yours. you both join into a soft, yet passionate kiss. your hand trails up his arm and squeezes it.

alhaitham moves back from the kiss, still staring longingly into your eyes. he kisses your neck, biting at the soft flesh, making little soft moans escape through your lips. your hand grips onto his arm harder, digging your nails through his shirt.

then there’s a knock on the door. alhaitham lifts his head up and looks towards the door.

“who is it?” he calls out.

“allie.” a girl’s voice responds. “i need to talk about my schedule.”

you roll your eyes, then look at alhaitham who also looks very annoyed. he pulls himself away from your grasp and goes to open the door. you walk behind him, then quickly push yourself through the doorway, ignoring allie’s dirty looks.

you piece yourself together and push the back door open so you can head out to your car.

once you get to your car, you immediately throw yourself in and start collecting your thoughts. the thought of alhaitham’s lips on your neck was enough to drive you insane, especially the whole drive home. you almost completely forgot that it was your birthday, but maybe that’s the reason why he was acting so weird towards you. maybe it was a special birthday thing?

the thought of it just being a birthday thing upset you. you didn’t want this crazy incident to be a one time thing. you needed more of alhaitham’s touch.

once you got into the parking garage of your apartment, you spot a familiar face. it was a taller man, he was handsome, but clearly looked intoxicated. you realized he was one of the men at the club who was staring so closely at you.

you bit your cheek, hoping that it was just some random coincidence that he lives in the same apartment complex as you. but you always had an open mindset to creepy men. especially with the job you have.

the man presses the elevator button to go up. he waits patiently and then enters the elevator once it gets to the garage level floor. he heads up, and all your worries seem to be gone.

you continue on, pressing the elevator button to go up too.

#alhaitham smut #alhaitham #genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham

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ebrysteria · 1 year

Text

Temptation

Kang the conqueror x (fem) reader

SUMMARY: you found Kang a while back when his ship crashed, you offered to help him and you've now known each other for months. You go out to try and seduce someone for an important part to fix it but he cant help but get jealous even if its just an act... Warnings: Smut 18+, wrap before you tap, jealous Kang, understanding of feelings, fingering, unprotected PnV (be responsible guys), giving into temptation

Note: So I went onto tumblr and searched for Kang fics and there were none at all?! I decided to write my own but this is my first ever time writing so please let me know if you enjoy it, I might make a part 2 and comment any suggestions on what you want me to write next.

———-

Nothing much surprised you down here anymore. It was all the same really. Landing in the quantum realm 20 years ago had changed you. Your way of living and scavenging to survive.

Most of the civilians weren’t that bothered by your arrival but many were sceptical. They were scared of an outsider being in their realm and many didn’t trust you. You couldn’t blame them though as you would feel the same if someone with no resemblance to you at all suddenly started living in your own home.

You got used to your way of living, you learnt how to hunt for food and supplies. You’ve been through a lot and have seen nearly twice as much.

But what you haven’t seen since you arrived was a ship come crashing down from the outer world. Naturally you were curious grabbing supplies just in case whatever it could be was dangerous. What you didn’t expect was it to be a man, around the same age as you.

He didn’t look like most of the people in the realm, he was different. He had deep scars running down each side of his face, travelling all the way just to the top of his plump lips.

He stood by his ship taking in his environment as you watched him, he seemed annoyed? Angry? You weren’t too sure. You didn’t know his motives so you decided to just observe.

“Damn you idiots, I’ll be back you can’t keep me here forever” he mumbled to himself whilst staring down his ship. It was smoking and in bad condition. It barely even looked like a ship with the state that it was in.

A loud screech emerged from in front of him, whatever it was was obscured by his body but you caught a glimpse of blue creatures lunging themselves at him.

You quickly aimed your blaster at the things, praying you wouldn’t accidentally hit the man. You quickly shot the creatures off of him rushing over.

“oh my god are you okay?” you asked offering your hand to pull him up.

He eyed you quizzically while dusting himself off.

“just about, thank you” he grabbed your arm as you pulled him up.

“I saw your ship come crashing down, I didn’t expect it to be a human from the outside world. You are human right?” You looked him up and down.

He wore an armour that consisted of purple and blue colours. Well what was left of the armour, it was damaged, torn and practically falling apart. Whatever happened to him must have been hurt.

“Yes very much human” he smiled chuckling slightly. “Why? Are you not human yourself?

You grinned at him, loosening the grip you had on your blaster slowly placing it in your blaster holder on your hip.

“Yes I am human, most inhabitants here aren’t, they all speak their own language and most were born here unlike us”

“Unlike us?” He said looking you up and down.

“Well yes I wasn’t born here, I broke open a gateway when experimenting with time. I didn’t expect to end up here.” you said quietly, you didn’t speak much of your past with anyone. If they knew what really happened you’re life would be over. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now I’ve gotten used to the way of living in this treacherous hell hole” you gestured to your surroundings as he looked around.

He didn’t look too surprised with his surroundings, he looked more uncomfortable. Then you realised you were still out in the open when any more threats could arise by the minute.

“Yes well this place isn’t on my bucket list of places I would like to visit” he looked back at his ship, crouching down next to it. He pulled open a panel and smoke puffed up into his face. “God damn it”

“What’s wrong?”

“My ship, it’s broken and I can’t power it. If I can then this would be my ticket out of here.”

“Wait you’re saying that thing can travel outside realms?!” you were shocked, no one had technology that advanced except from the people you worked for before your life got turned upside down.

He got back up turning to you.

“Well yes if it was working”

You looked around, it wouldn’t take too long for you to make it back home on foot. You don’t usually accept strangers into your home but he was human and you felt empathetic for the man

“hey the place I’m staying at isn’t that far from here, do you want to come with me just for tonight. I have a spare room and food. It’s just something to get you back on your feet before you figure out what you’re going to do next” you suggested. It would be nice to have some company as living alone for 20 years hasn’t done the best for you. It was a lot safer than staying somewhere with the other inhabitants but the isolation got painful at times.

“Thank you I appreciate it, I don’t even know your name yet

“My name is Y/n” you said whilst turning around beginning to walk. He quickly began trailing behind.

“Okay y/n lead the way”

“Aren’t you going to tell me yours” you said stopping turning around to raise your eyebrows.

He extended his hand outwards to you.

“Kang”

You reached for his hand, it was soft and he shook gently it.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Kang” you said softly smiling.

——————

Turns out it wasn’t just one night.

He happily accepted his room and you got used to living together, it had been 6 months since he had moved in. You decided to help him repair his ship agreeing that he would help you out of here as well and during this you two got closer. You often went out to the market to find spare parts while he helped you around your home. He cooked you wonderful meals and if you didn’t know better it seemed as if he cared for you. You managed to extend your living space to accompany the two of you. The only thing you really had to share was the bathroom as you only ever had one considering you weren’t used to living with someone. But it wasn’t a problem. You both had your own schedules and you worked well together.

You stared at yourself in the mirror humming. Tonight was important. There had been one particular piece for his ship that was very rare to come by and Kang was beginning to feel hopeless when you told him that material like that was unlikely to come by in the quantum realm but you had heard through the market-place that a man named Quaz was actually in possession of some. You planned to speak with him tonight. You didn’t want to say you were going to seduce him but you were determined to get the piece for the ship as it was unlikely you would ever have an opportunity like this again.

You ran your hands down, smoothing out your white long silk dress. You wanted to be humble but you did look good. There was never really much reason to dress up in the quantum realm so it felt nice to have some sort of normality in your life. You hand came up to the dainty necklace that hanged from your neck fixing it into place. You gave yourself one last look before opening the bathroom door.

Kang stood just outside the door and when the door opened he was shocked. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you and how your skin looked exposed by the dress. You felt him drag his eyes down your figure. He quickly looked back up and went to open his mouth but he quickly closed it shaking his head.

“Where are you going dressed like that?” he asked demandingly.

You were taken aback by his tone. You thought you looked good.

“I’m going to the bar, I found some good news on that impossible piece you needed for your ship. I was going to tell you but you were busy fixing your suit and I didn’t want to disturb you”

His eyes softened staring at you. It made you blush slightly.

“You- You look good please be careful” he said reaching out to run his hand down your arm.

“I always am careful you know that, this could be our chance to get out of this place, I shouldn’t waste time because we could lose our opportunity” you quickly rushed out leaving a quick kiss on his cheek and left the house.

He froze and stood there shocked. He feet were rooted to the ground. That shouldn’t have done something for him but it did. He couldn’t stop thinking about you in that dress, how thin it looked. How easy it would be to just pull it off your shoulders. He needed to calm down.

“Get a grip” he mumbled to himself walking into the bathroom.

As he washed himself in the shower he couldn’t stop thinking, no one else should have the privilege of seeing you like that when you're out. And what if they tried to make a move on you? Or hurt you? He wouldn’t be there to help you. Every bad thought went rushing through his head until he decided he was going to go the bar to keep an eye on you. Just to keep you safe. Right?

—————

The place was busy. Busier than usual. The dance floor was filled with swaying people and flashing lights making you feel a little energised as you think back to all the enjoyable nights you’ve spent here in the past. Typically you enjoy this type of stuff. But tonight you only had one goal.

Get the piece.

You move further into the bar, looking around for your target. You have a gun hidden in your dress so if anyone tried anything you were prepared. You looked around with caution until your eyes fell on a man, slightly younger than you drowning himself in ooze. You were never a fan of the drink, maybe because the last time you were forced to drink it to be able to communicate.

You were getting distracted just staring at the man so you moved over and took the high seat next to him. He eyed you as you ordered.

“hi can I have whatever the handsome man next to me is having” you said flashing him a short and sweet smile.

He gave you a drunk smile back, running a hand over his face shuffling closer to you.

“I must say I haven’t seen you around here before, I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours” he said extending his hand “my name is Quaz”

You took it gently shaking it, lingering it slightly longer to get him interested. You gave him a made up name not wanting anything being traced back to you. He admired your dress.

“That’s a nice dress you’re wearing”

You blushed at the compliment, flirting back with him. What you didn’t realise was a certain someone coming into the bar staring at you from just beside the crowd.

---------

He didn’t know if it the fact your target was flirting with you or if it was you flirting back but jealousy began to spread within him. He tried to remain calm, reminding himself you are free to do what you want with your life but Kang couldn’t stand it. They way some random man moved closer to you, making you smile like that. It should’ve been him. Not some disgusting drunk man obviously only trying to get in your pants. He clenched his hands trying to ground himself. Seeing you two laughing together. It felt wrong even if it was just flirting.

It was worse when he saw the man begin to make advances on you. Resting his hand on you, carelessly stroking the outside of your thigh. Every time he rubbed his hand across your smooth delicate skin he felt the heat, anger and possessiveness within him getting worse. No one but him should be seeing you in this dress. You looked beautiful in it sure but it should be reserved for his eyes and his eyes only.

-----

It turns out that he doesn't keep the piece hidden at all; instead, he stores it in an ordinary old bag at his home. You almost got him where you wanted him; you joked with him in an effort to learn as much as you can about the piece. It was so simple that it was hard to believe.

"So… do you want to go out of here?" He asked softly, bringing his hand higher to the inner part of your thigh.

All contact abruptly vanished, and you swiftly turned around to see him being pushed off of you and onto the ground. Kang gives you a short glance before tightly grasping your waist.

"You touch her like that again and i wont hesitate to kill you" he spat quickly putting a bruising grip on your wrist dragging you out of the bar.

"What the hell are you doing! I almost had it! We could've gone home!!" you yelled trying to shake out of his grip.

He didn't budge staying silent, continuing to pull you along with him until you arrived at your shared home. He harshly slammed the door shut after you both walked in.

He stares at you intensely looking at you up and down almost as if he's contemplating what to say.

"Stop ignoring me and tell me what's wrong, you literally just dragged me out of there with no explanation whatsoever" you questioned first.

"Did you not see that guys hand literally touching you all over?! Its ridiculous I should've punched that smug smile off of his face"

"It was part of my plan!" you scoffed, you couldn't believe he was jealous after you literally told him you were going to get the piece.

"The piece isn't worth that much" he mumbled looking anywhere but you. He seemed- embarrassed?

You walked closer to him "I cant believe you ruined it because you were jealous"

"I am not jealous"

"sure seems like it"

He moved closer staring at you more intensely than before "I cant believe you were going to whore yourself out just for some stupid material"

"What the fuck!! I wasn't going to whore myself out" you said, quickly pulling your dress up slightly to show him the gun you had strapped to the side of your other thigh.

He just stared at your flesh for a moment. Before slowly reaching forward to remove the gun from its holder. It was only then when you realised how close you were. How you could feel his breathing as he looked down at you. It sent hot shivers within you, the warmth spreading like some sick disease. It starts in your stomach and spreads throughout your body - a hunger, a hunger to feel him, closer, that the hunger and heat transcends within you in an unexplainable way

He clicked the gun out and then threw it on the couch. "you could have gotten yourself killed" he whispered leaning down slightly lower. Your breath hitched. His eyes darting downwards as you licked your lips, you could feel a pair of warm hands rubbing over your sensitive skin of your thighs just below where the gun was, moving upwards gently.

That's when he realised what he was doing, dropping your thigh creating some distance between the two of you. "look we will find another way to get the piece okay, just go to bed now its late" he quickly muttered storming off to his room without another word.

You felt hot all over, a part of you wishing he never stopped touching you. You rushed to your room quickly closing your door thinking about what just happened. The way his hands gripped your leg so gently as if you were the most delicate thing in the world, the slight hunger that seeped into his eyes and he traced small circles along your flesh. You wondered what happened if you continued. It was making you begin to feel wet and you knew you had an attraction towards him but you never knew he could be that...

…sensual

----------

He briskly shut his door rubbing his hands over his face. What the hell was he doing. Touching you like that. He almost gave in. Temptation was getting the better of him. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs, his whole chest constricting with the thought of him calling you a whore. He couldn't believe himself. But God the way you looked at him, the way you stood so close to him all would have to do is move an inch and he would have kissed you. claimed you as his, he wanted you so badly. watching you work for him everyday, determined to fix his ship. He wasn't aware that he was falling for you, but he ought to have seen the warning signs. The fact that he went out of his way more to be nice to you than he has for anyone else. Making sure you returned home safely, sneaking out to punish everyone who had ever upset you, ensuring that your favourite meals are prepared, and bringing you back to bed if you accidentally nodded off on the couch at night.

He should've kissed you then and there.

He got out of bed and began heading to your room...

----------

You keep thinking about the tension between the two of you, he couldn't leave you feeling like this otherwise the heat will swallow you whole. Pulling yourself to your feet, you swiftly get up and swing your door open.

Kang was on the other side, wide eyed, unblinking with his hand half raised in a fist as if he was going to knock. He stared down at you frozen on the spot.

He gazed at you with an intangible nature that is impossible to describe—a sense of learning something new, a revelation. Perhaps it was a knowing look but you didn't seem to care under the intense stare that he had you under.

"What do yo-"

And as you were about to inquire him you were abruptly cut off as he brought you into a searing kiss by cupping your face with his warm, soft hands and making you gasp into his mouth. You eagerly accepted the kiss, gripping onto him as he pushed you further back into your room.

He hurriedly pressed you against the wall to your right and shut the door behind him, his hands frantically and needily roaming your body desperate causing you to whimper in pleasure. He seems to never want to let go of you as he holds you between his arms, up against his chest, and against the wall. He makes it a goal to kiss every square inch of your face, imprinting every detail of it in his mind.

He lets out a moan as your nails scrape his back on his shirt, the flex of his muscles makes you blush and begin to lose balance from the lack of oxygen of him kissing you breathless, and he's ready to take most of your weight when the kiss gets heavier, deeper, your tongue frantically searching as he holds your face, never wanting to let you go.

"I couldn't stand it" he mumbles moving to the side of your neck trailing his plump lips teasingly, "i couldn't stand the way he was staring at you in this dress" his hand comes up to trail behind your back, pushing you further into him as he began to nip kisses into your neck and travelling lower to your collarbones causing your breath to become even more laboured. You felt him slowly tugging at the strings at your back of your white silk dress. "All i could think about was pulling it off in front of everyone and showing them who you really belong to" finally releasing the strings from the back causing the front of your dress to falter slowly revealing your breasts. "I would've made them all jealous making them know none of them can have you. None of them can make you feel the way i make you feel," he said then he quickly sucked on your nipple causing you to let out a soft feral noise.

"God those sounds you keep making are so pretty, keep going. Just like that" he encouraged looking up at you from your cleavage as his hand gropes at your breast. He moved his other hand shifting it down to the lower part of your body to cup you, a wet spot forming on the fabric covering you from his fingers. You whimper as he pulls your panties aside to reveal your beautiful puffy lips that are drenched from your want for him "Keep making those sounds for me" he whispered into your chest as his fingers dipped and found your clit causing your head to tilt back.

"Fuck Kang.." you whimper loudly again and he came back up to capture your whimper in a strong kiss. He traced your pussy lips with his fingers before thrusting one of them in causing you to release a loud moan. He kept pumping in and out of you adding a second finger and your whines kept getting louder and louder. You were getting so close, legs beginning to shake, your walls tightening around his two fingers as he curls them inside, making your back arch. You realised you were closer than you thought. He must have known because he removed his hand completely, placing it on your waist dragging you away from the door.

The back of your knees caught at the end of your bed as he gently pushed you onto it while removing the rest of your dress leaving you almost completely exposed to his hungry eyes.

"My god you are so beautiful" he said against your lips. In a tangle of limbs he began removing his clothes. You ground against him above you causing you to rub him enticingly. He let out a needy moan, gripping onto your hips harder as he used one hand to undo his zipper.

“Please don’t stop…” you begged, and the hand clutching your waist squeezed your flesh in an reassuring way that told you that he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t. Not when you tastes so good and sounded so angelical. Not when he needed you so bad. He had been dreaming of this for months. 6 months of pure torture of the need to be inside you and be claimed as his.

"You see what you do to me? Do you know how hard its been for me to try not to be tempted to fuck you senseless when you sat in the chair of my ship when you were fixing it.

You sat up eagerly helping him pull down his zip and rubbing over his covered crotch causing him to groan as he leaned forward into your neck to leave darker marks. “Don’t you know the power you have over me?” he groans again.

You gradually begin pulling down his pants and you become dizzy off of want from the root hairs that slowly begin to get exposed with the rest of him, it cause something dangerous inside of you to stir as you wrap your hands around him. Like an inextinguishable fire that could only be put out by him.

He releases deep, grave gasps when he bucks his hips into your hand and his sloppy lips land on back on yours as if whispering a silent prayer.

"I need to be inside of you" he moans softly against your lips pushing you back down removing your panties completely. He continues kissing you with so much passion and desire. Its been so long and he's scared that if he stops he will awake from whatever dream that is possessing his senses in a crazed manor.

He began lining himself up with your entrance and looked at you for confirmation, you nodded quickly as he gripped your hand pushing above your head against the mattress.

Slowly he began pushing inside.

You sobbed in response to the sensation, reaching out for his back with your free hand and scraping your nails against his skin as you felt the sting of pain that accompanied the pleasure. Your back arched and he leaned into you moaning.

"You feel so good. Fuck.." you moaned tilting your head back further into the pillow.

He removed his hand from yours and gripped your waist plunging into you further making your eyes roll back.

"I want you to remember the way that I'm fucking you right now, no one will ever fuck you the way I do will they?" he smirked from above you.

You nodded back frantically biting you lips creating them all wet and swollen.

"Use your words love" he said while brining up a hand to clasp your chin to make you look at him. He saw the hunger in your eyes. The way he was making you feel.

"No one will fuck me the way you do" you moaned loudly as he picked up his pace. Both of your moans and whines loud with the slick lewd sounds of skin connecting.

You were getting so close, you could feel the coil begin to tighten as he pounded harder into you. Your nails dug deeper as his hips began to snap into you. "Always so kind to me, so beautiful…"

Each of his now sharp and rapid thrusts silenced your whimpers and groans. There was no room between the two of you, and you could feel it in the way he kissed you and the way he fucked you into the mattress. You could also feel it in the way his hands held your hips and hurt them as he drew you impossibly close to him.

"Kang fuck I'm close" you moan gripping onto him tighter as your legs begin to shake.

"give it to me, give it to me baby. Cum for me please, please, please, Fuck"

You moan loudly clenching around his cock as it his you. You feel euphoric as your vision clouds from the intensity of your orgasm.

As your pussy clenches him it caused his cock to twitch and white spurts of cum go up washing inside of you. Painting your walls with him. You milk him as he slows down pushing the cum further back into you until he eventually pulls out. He looks down at you and sees your fucked out droopy eyes.

He gets up from you leaving the bedroom, you go to call out for him to stay but your throat hurts from the loudness of your moans.

Not much longer he returns with a cloth crouching down to clean you up gently, staring into your eyes with a promise of him not leaving. He kisses your inner thighs before putting the cloth back in the bathroom and coming back to your room.

He comes beside you lifting you under the covers with him, he cradles your cheek like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen while he leans back and pushes the hair out of your face, straightens your brows, he kisses your lips softly, giving you fatigued tiny pecks here and there till you are content and can feel him forever.

Your heart stopped when one of his arms surrounded your waist to pull you closer and against his chest. You looked down and realized that he had folded everything including your dress so that neither of you would stumble over it the next day, rather than getting dressed. When you stared at him, It was then that you noticed it in his eyes. This desire, this affection, which he has never permitted himself to express to you. His touch still makes you feel buzzy and electrified.

You nuzzled closer into him, maybe life in this realm wasn't as bad as you thought...

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

A/N: so how was that? I hope you enjoyed it, please comment if you do and comment any suggestions you may have for me to write.

#kang x reader #kang the conqueror x reader #kang smut #kang imagine #kang the conqueror smut #jonathan majors x reader #kang the conqueror #kang one shot #kang the conqueror fic #ant man quantumania #he who remains

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slasher-smasher · 2 months

Text

Tamp-On the Heroics (Homelander x gn!reader)

Two fics in one day?? Yeah, I am absolutely bored and highly caffeinated.

This is not meant to be taken seriously. I thought the idea would be silly and funny.

Words: 1,618

Masterlist: here

Warnings: None, unless you consider ridiculousness a warning.

Reader is written as GN but they do own a feminine product. I just used it as a plot device.

Not beta read.

Summary: Homelander finds himself in a sticky situation when his son, Ryan has an accident and he grapples with the challenges of parenthood and unexpected emergencies. Being bombarded with texts from a hysterical supe boyfriend was not something you were expecting when you went to work that morning.

Your phone goes off five times during your shift at your job. At first you didn’t think anything of it. Probably just a telemarketer or some scammer calling to let you know about your “cars extended warranty”. Jokes on them, you don’t own a car. Why ride when you can fly first class on Homelander airlines?

When your phone rang a third time, you got a little curious. Maybe it was someone trying to get a hold of you. But who? Your friends are here at work with you. Your boyfriend Homelander rarely uses his phone to get a hold of you, plus he would just fly over if he really needed something. You tried sneaking your phone out to check before you boss walked like a prison warden, hands laced behind their backs, eyes scanning for anything they can chew you out for that is preventing you from doing your work. You weren’t really the best at subtlety so when you attempted to pull your phone out from your desk drawer, you almost slammed the drawer on your fingers in your hurry to close it as your boss poked their head around the corner to call you for a quick meeting in the staff room.

Damn.

After the fifth time was when you got worried. You swiped your phone then rushed into the restroom locking the door behind you. Seeing eleven notifications of missed texts made you feel a surge of panic. Your fingers tremble slightly as you unlock your phone to scroll through the messages.

Heroic Hunk : Hey pumpkin, just checking in on you. I would fly over but Ryan is visiting. 😊

Heroic Hunk: Oh, I just remembered, did you put milk on the shopping list? We are going to need more. Ryan keeps guzzling down MY milk when he puts that fucking sugary strawberry powder shit in it. I swear he was dropped as a baby. Fucking gross.

Heroic Hunk: Precious, funny story… So I was helping Ryan practice his flying and we thought playing catch would have been a fun challenge. He got a bit too into it and there may have been an accident.

Heroic Hunk: Ryan flew face first into a tree…🤦🏼

Heroic Hunk: Okay, so Ryan just had a nosebleed, and you are not picking up. I'm freaking out a bit. What do I do???

Heroic Hunk: Seriously, what's the protocol here? Should I call a doctor? Should I fly him to a hospital? Why are you not picking up??

Heroic Hunk: I'm starting to panic a bit... his nosebleed won't stop! What if it's something serious? I NEVER HAD A FUCKING NOSEBLEED BEFORE!!

Heroic Hunk: I tried using a tissue, but it's not helping much. Should I try something else? How can my kid bleed so much? ANSWER THE GODDAMN PHONE!

Heroic Hunk: Okay, update: I found something in the bathroom. I saw this being used in a movie. Going to see if it works. I’ll call you after.

Heroic Hunk: It seemed to work, but now I'm worried I've done something wrong. 😬

Heroic Hunk: Update: The bleeding stopped, but Ryan's giving me weird looks. Was that a bad move? Please advise a.k.a call me back.

Heroic Hunk: Crisis averted! 💪 Love you! 😘

You were so confused and incredibly worried now. What the fuck has happened? Why did John think having a young child—who recently just learned how—fly through a forest AND play catch at the same time was a good idea? You can’t leave your boys alone for two seconds without something either burning down or someone ends up bleeding.

You looked at the time on your phone before you pressed the call button next to the name he put in for himself.

It rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey pumpkin. You ready for me to pick you up?” He answered jovially. Like he didn’t send a plethora of panicked texts your way just an hour ago.

“Hi sweetheart. I am really sorry I didn’t answer my phone earlier. I was in a meeting. Is everything ok?” You tried to keep your voice even and calm.

“Oh yeah. Everything is all hunky-dory. Just a little mishap. We are currently watching one of my movies. Kid is mesmerized.” Homelander replied with pride and a laugh, you could hear the tv in the background. Sounds of explosions and guns going off.

“Well ok. Yeah. I am ready. Need to file away some papers but I’ll be done by the time you get here.” You sighed, still a little unconvinced but you will find out everything yourself when you get home.

“Alrighty! I’ll be there in a sec. I’ll bring your jacket too since it’s starting to get chilly. Love you.” He made a kissing noise into the phone which you replied with your own I love you too and kiss.

He was right. It was getting chilly as you waited on the roof of your office building. You started using the roof for drop offs and pick ups when using the front entrance got too hectic. Having a celebrity boyfriend who was the most powerful supe came with the pains of having people fall over themselves just to get an autograph or photo with him. The swarms got so bad that you almost broke your arm being tripped as they rushed to meet their idol. That almost ended in a bloodbath which would not go over well with your boss when you had to explain that your short-tempered man-child of a partner lasered half of the employees over an accident.

“You look like you need a ride.” Homelanders' teasing voice snapped you of your thoughts making you look up as he slowly floated down to greet you. His signature cape swishing in the cool breeze. God he was beautiful. Blue pools that sparkled with mischief. His smug smile and corny jokes made your heart race and you couldn’t help but laugh.

You were so gone for this man.

“Hey there handsome.” You greeted as you settled yourself into his warm embrace.

“You ok? You look tired.” He asked, concern can be seen in his face handing you your jacket.

“Yeah, it was just a long day. Let's go home and get some dinner. Ryan is probably hungry.” You answered as you put it on and relaxed into his arms when he wrapped his arm under your knees and lifted you easily. Thank you super strength.

You could have fallen asleep with how gentle he was with you during the short flight back but you forced your eyes to stay open.

Landing softly in the front yard of the cabin you pulled him down to plant a kiss on his lips and thanked him for the lovely ride as always. Full stars on yelp. He let out a chuckle and took your hand into his as you walked into the house.

You let out a satisfied sigh as the heat from the fire in the fireplace greeted you. Looking around the living room you didn’t see Ryan which made you frown. He usually rushes to give you a big hug but he was nowhere to be found.

“Ry? I’m home.” You called out in a normal voice. Knowing he inherited his fathers sensitive hearing so there was no need to be loud.

“I’m in my room! I’ll be right out!” You heard him respond from deeper into the home. You looked back at Homelander who just shrugged.

“Probably playing with his little Legos. He said something about recreating a scene from the movie before I left to get you.” He supplied as he walked into the kitchen.

That boy and his Legos, you thought as you followed Homelander who poured two glasses of milk and handed you one.

“Did you get my text about the list? If not, then I can have someone drive out here and get everything delivered.” He asked before he took a sip of his favorite beverage. Holding your with both hands as you also took a drink. You were not as big of a fan as Homelander is but you do enjoy the cold taste of milk occasionally.

“I did but I wanted to ask Ryan if he wanted to go with me tomorrow. You know he likes looking at the Legos in the toy section,” You said as you took another sip then a thought popped into your head. ”Speaking of text, what did you end up using for Ryan’s nosebleed anyway?”

Homelander finished his glass with a large gulp licking his lips as he set the glass down on the counter. He looked at you with a proud grin which if you were honest, made you suspicious.

“I couldn’t believe it worked but it makes sense with what it is actually designed to do. Just a different hole.” Homelander lifted his hand, pointing at the ceiling and twirling it in a circle indicating to turn around.

Wait, what? Hole?

You gave him a confused look then turned around and spat out your mouthful of milk as you saw Ryan walk into the living room with a large grin that made him look even more like his father. What ruined the similarity was the dangling string that was attached to a piece of cotton shaped into a bullet that was shoved up his nostril.

“OH MY GOD. JOHN!” You couldn’t breathe due to the giggles shaking your body.

“What? It does the same thing!” He defended.

You completely forgot you had tampons in your bathroom.

“Well it did stop the bleeding,” you managed to breathe out as you walked over to give the boy a hug.

You love your boys so much.

#homelander #the boys amazon #homelander x reader #homelander x you #crack fic #my writing #Homelander is a milk drinker #ryan butcher #gn reader

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

Round 2 *ding ding ding*

Fives and "Try and get some sleep. I'll stay right here– I won't let anything happen to you, I swear."

Please and thank you, my love 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Safe and Sound

Summary: When you are doing a favor for your father you stumble across a clone who's been drugged and is being hunted for a crime he didn't commit.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Reader (future)

Word Count: 2185

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: This is a sort of prologue towards the last Fives x Reader fic I wrote.

Divider by Saradika

“This is the place, Checkmate?” You ask as you regard the warehouses thoughtfully.

“Yes ma’am,” Checkmate, a clone formerly from the 91st, replies as he folds his arms over his chest, his sharp gaze flickering around the area, “By all accounts, the warehouses are up for auction within the next tenday.”

You hum thoughtfully, “And what’s your assessment?”

Checkmate is quiet for a moment as he looks around without leaving your side. His gaze lingers on a group of spice addicts for a moment, and he purses his lips, “It won’t be easy to keep the building secure, if you plan to use it for storage.”

“Hm…I agree.” You reply lightly, “What if we demolish the building and build something else.”

“Such as?”

“My brother is always looking for places to set up new clinics.” You reply with a light smile.

A small smile crosses Checkmate’s face, “He is an amazing man.”

“Careful Captain, you’re in danger of swooning.” You tease gently, and then you laugh when he bumps your shoulder with his own, “In any event, I didn’t see any clinics anywhere in the area.”

“Probably because there isn’t one.” Checkmate replies, “You know what businessmen are like.”

You shoot him an amused look.

“Businessmen who aren’t associated with Gryffin Industries.” Checkmate clarifies with a roll of his eyes, “Everyone knows that the people who run Gryffin are about as close to saints as mortals can be.”

You laugh again, “You think far, far too highly of my family.”

Checkmate glances at you out of the corner of his eye, “Your family takes vod’e who are no longer able to do their duty, like myself, and gives us jobs, medical attention, and a place to live. That puts you pretty damn close to sainthood to me and my vod’e.”

“It’s hardly-”

“Both of my legs were blown off, and you gave me prosthetics that helped me walk again. Pretty sure that makes you the Patron Saint of Lost Causes.” Checkmate interrupts with a grin.

“You’re awful.”

“Hm, maybe if you would pick a bodyguard, then I wouldn’t tease you so much.”

“Yes, you would.”

“Yes. I would. You’re baby sister coded.”

You pout at him, and then focus your attention back on the warehouse, “Putting a clinic here would help us win some goodwill with the lower levels,” You say lightly, “Plus we can hire a bunch of people, and piss off some very rich assholes at the same time-”

“What, exactly, did the rich and powerful do to your family to make you all so bitter against them?” Checkmate asks as he watches you buy the warehouse…and then another three just for good measure.

“People like that use their influence to hurt innocent people. And it’s disgusting.” You reply, “And…there. Gryffin Industries now owns about three blocks down here.”

“What are you going to do with three blocks worth of warehouses?”

“A hospital, maybe? And a park, with a playground.”

“I’ll just add another check in your ‘destined for Sainthood’ book.” Checkmate teases, and then he tenses, and a scowl crosses his face. “Incoming.”

You turn slightly, and see an irate man stalking over towards you.

“You,” He barks at you, and you arch a single brow, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Actually,” You reply pleasantly, “I own everything in a three block radius. Which means you are trespassing.”

“That’s-” He stops when you lift the badge marking you as one of the owners of Gryffin Industries, and his scowl deepens, “I am a General in the GAR-”

“Unless there are Separatists in my warehouses, I suggest you see yourself off my property. Before I call someone to do it for you.” You say pleasantly.

“Someone tried to assassinate the Chancellor!”

“Which is a problem for the Guard, not the army.”

The General scowls and spins on his heels, “Fine. Then I’ll call the guard and they can search for him.”

“Do make sure they have a warrant, General.” You say to his back, and you hide your smile when he flinches. He shoots you a baleful look, and then stalks away, and you turn your head towards Checkmate, “Since when does the Army search for supposed criminals?”

“Since never.” He replies, “The warehouses are ours?”

“Yep.”

“Then let’s see what we just purchased.”

The first warehouse is empty, save for dust and some empty crates. The same for the second warehouse.

But in the third warehouse the pair of you stumble on one of the clones sitting on the floor leaning against a crate. He’s gray and sweaty, and his hands are shaking. “He looks like he’s in the middle of spice withdrawals.” You murmur as you crouch next to him.

The clone, who had a 5 tattooed on his forehead, turns to look at you and seems to look through you rather than seeing you, and you frown and press your hand against his forehead.

“That’s not spice withdrawal,” Checkmate replies, “He’s been drugged. Look at his pupils.”

You frown thoughtfully, “We have spare armor in the speeder, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll go grab it and bring the speeder around.” He turns and hurries away, it won’t take him more than a few minutes to bring the speeder around.

You set your hand on the ill soldier’s shoulder, “It’s okay.” You whisper soothingly, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Whatever he was drugged with seems to have stolen his ability to speak, as he doesn’t say anything. But he does whine low in his throat, and he slumps over against you, his head landing on your chest.

“It’s going to be okay.” You whisper soothingly as you stroke the top of his head, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Checkmate returns only a moment later, and with his help you get the ill clone in a set of Gryffin Industries armor, which is much more streamlined that Clone armor, and is painted with dark teal and white accents.

And then Checkmate carries him out to the speeder and you slide yourself into the backseat next to him. You call the family lawyer as soon as the speeder leaves the warehouse district, and when you hear the glee in her voice, you almost feel bad for the people who cross her.

Almost.

It takes two days for the drugs to leave the clone’s system, and another day after that before he’s actually able to walk and talk properly.

And so, here you are, four days after you found him in the warehouse, sitting at a roundtable meeting with the rest of your family, with the clone, Fives he introduced himself as, standing at the end of the table.

Your father’s smile in kind as he regards Fives, “Alright, young man. Take your time and say what you need to say.”

Fives takes a deep breath, and his hands settle behind his back as he stands at attention. And then he starts to talk.

He starts slowly, and then, when he realizes that everyone is listening and no one is interrupting him, he gains momentum.

He talks, non-stop, for an hour, and when he stops talking the room is completely silent. You lean back in your chair and rub the spot between your eyebrows.

Your father swears loudly, and you understand the sentiment.

“I know you probably don’t believe me, but-” Fives says, sounding almost panicked.

“No, no. Lad, that’s not the problem.” Your grandfather says in his crisp accent, “The problem is that we do believe you.” He closes his eyes for a moment and then turns his attention to the table, “So, what do we do?”

“We can’t run at Palpatine directly,” Your cousin, the head of security, says from where he's sitting across from you, “He’s too powerful.”

“It’s also too risky,” You brother adds, “With the knowledge of what these chips are for…” He shakes his head.

“You’ve been removing them, right?” Your father asks.

“Of course.” He sounds offended, “Of course, I thought they were more like the Hutt explosive slave chips rather than free-will overwriting slave chips, so of course I’ve been removing them.”

“It’ll be easy enough to send the information to the battalion medics,” You say thoughtfully.

“How would they keep the surgeries a secret?” Your twin asks with a frown.

“They’d have to go slow.” Your brother murmurs, “No more than one or two at a time, and whenever someone is injured, or ill, they take the opportunity to remove the chip. I can reach out to the battalion medics.”

“And what about Palpatine?” Your grandfather asks.

“We can’t touch him until the men are no longer under his thumb.” Your cousin reminds, “For now, we need to pretend he’s no longer a threat.”

“I’ll think on that. For that matter, we’re going to need to make sure that not everyone knows everything. I’ll handle it.” Your father says, and then he pauses, “And what about Fives. He can’t return to the 501st, he has a price on his head.”

“I’ll take him.” You reply after a moment of thought, “You’ve all been hounding me about not having a bodyguard for ages now anyway.”

“Does that work for you, Fives?” Your father asks.

“Uh..yes sir.”

“Excellent.” He looks at his datapad, “Okay, I think that’s enough for now. Get him settled,” Your father says to you, “And make sure he gets proper armor.”

“I will.” You stand and walk over to Fives, “You can follow me.” He nods and turns to trail after you as you walk over to a hidden elevator and you press a button to activate it, “Until you get a proper helmet, we’ll be using the hidden passages and elevators.” You explain.

“That makes sense,” He replies, sounding deeply, deeply exhausted.

You smile at him soothingly as you step into the elevator, and you press one of the buttons. The elevator goes down seven levels, and then the door dings open and you lead him through a richly decorated hall, and you stop in front of a door, “This is my room.” And then you walk a single door down, “This is yours.”

You push the door open, and reveal a proper studio apartment. “This is all mine?”

“Yes. At the moment, nothing is stocked because I haven’t had a bodyguard since I was a child.” You explain, “I’ll make sure food is delivered, and you can use the datapad to order anything you might need.” You motion at the datapad on the counter, “Food, clothes, and hygiene items are included as part of your paycheck. Anything you want for fun, movies, books, games, you have to buy yourself. But that’s what the paycheck is for.”

“That seems really generous.”

You shrug, “We can afford it. Armor and weapons will be supplied. My twin will get you set up with armor as soon as you’re feeling up to it. We have a paint room with the appropriate colors all in stock.”

“Alright.”

“The bedding is clean, so you’ll be able to sleep in here tonight, or whenever you want to sleep.” You motion towards the closet, “The laundry shoot is in there, generally laundry is returned the day after you put it in the shoot.”

“What’s that door?” Five asks, as he motions to a door on the opposite wall.

“Oh. Right.” You walk over to the door, and press the button to open it, “This door connects my room with yours. It can’t be locked on either side. You have to be able to get to me quickly as my bodyguard, but I also need to be able to get to you quickly for the same reason. The door can be left open, or shut, depending on our preferences.”

“Alright. Can we keep it open? I’m not used to sleeping alone.”

“Of course.” You press another button, and the door locks in the open position, “Any other questions?”

“No-” His sentence is broken by a yawn, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You gently guide him towards the bed, “You should get some sleep.”

Fives hesitates, “I don’t know if I can. I keep thinking that someone is going to swoop in and kill me-”

You very gently sit him down on his bed, “Fives, try and get some sleep. I'll stay right here– I won't let anything happen to you, I swear.”

He hesitates for a moment longer, and then lays down on the soft bed. Fives tosses and turns for a bit, but after you grab his datapad and sit on the side of his bed, he settles a little bit.

He’s still not sleeping restfully, but he shifts and he slings his arms around you, clinging to you like you’re a stuffed animal, and he presses his face against your back, and you heave out a silent sigh of relief when his breathing becomes deep and even.

With Fives asleep, you decide to take the time to go through and place his food order. As well as ordering some clothes and the necessary hygiene things that he might need.

Everything’s going to be alright. You won’t stand for anything else.

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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onestepbackwards · 1 year

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What’s All the Buzz About? Pt. 2

Hello I am back again with part 2 of my Bee Hybird Submas fic (❁´◡`❁) The fic is inspired by @r0-boat‘s BeeGearStation Au! Please go check out her work, it’s really fun and amazing to read! The designs for the hybrids were heavily inspired by @antidotesprout! Please go check them out as well! Their art is truly amazing! I struggled a bit with this chapter, I will not lie. I apologize if it feels a teeny bit off. It felt like I was a bit everywhere with this one. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy the chapter! Summary: After an unfortunate cave in, you find out the subway tunnels you were trapped in were actually now part of a Bee Hybrid hive. Thankfully, one of the twin Kings have offered to take care of you until you recover! Though you were thankful for the help, you can’t help but be a bit nervous at what you might encounter... CW: Leg injury, minor anxiety attack, spiraling dark thoughts, mentions of a cave in, mentions or coercion, bee hybrids, Hybrid!Submas, King Bee Emmet, King Bee Ingo, Word Count: 6744 words! >Previous: Link >Next: Link ------

Your day has gone from bad, to horrible, to damn near unbelievable. From being coerced into going ‘exploring’ with your boss and coworkers, to being stuck and injured in the subway tunnels from a cave in thanks to said boss and coworkers, then to being found by a King bee hybrid. You didn’t even think King bees existed, let alone hybrid ones. And now? You were being carried bridal style by said King bee hybrid, who happily hummed as he strolled through the tunnels, carrying you to his hive. He had offered to help you rest and recover, assuring you no harm would come to you in his care. Seeing as your leg was completely out of commission, you had no idea where you were in the tunnels, and you were terribly exhausted, you decided to take him up on his offer. ...Not like you had much of a choice. But, he seemed genuine and kind, and you were just so done with everything. You needed a break. Even if it meant being taken to a live hive full of bees, as long as you got some food and sleep, you’d take it at this point. Even if it was a bit odd. Emmet had insisted on carrying you, and you were a bit hesitant at first. However, your leg was in no shape to continue having pressure, so you accepted his offer. He had even insisted on walking instead of flying, worried he might jostle your leg if he flew through the tunnels. You were a little touched he, a complete stranger, seemed to care so much. If you were being honest, you were also a bit mystified by the man, you couldn’t help but look him over. He was tall, taller than any human you had ever seen. No doubt he was easily over 7 feet. The way he held you in his arms made you feel especially small. He also wore a uniform of sorts. It was a white uniform, though he wore a golden tie, and his coat had gold patterns on the sleeves and along the middle. You couldn’t help but think it looked good on him. For some reason, it really fit him, though you couldn’t explain why. …And you may or may not have found it adorable how his antennae fit through the brim of his white hat, twitching every now and again. “See something you like?” He suddenly asked, jogging you out of your thoughts. His eyes playfully glinted as they stared back at your own. You could feel your face heat up, knowing you had been caught staring. His smile seemed to grow almost smug at your blush, and his antennae twitched. “I… Was looking at your uniform. Sorry.” you quickly apologized. Emmet only seemed amused. Your face burned hotter as he continued to stare. Thankfully, he decided to give you a break, and you felt him shift you ever so slightly. “Do you like it? My uniform? It is inspired by the role of the subway boss that this city used to have!” He excitedly gushed to you, trying to show off his outfit. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “It looks nice on you. Did you make it?” You asked, trying to make small talk, and feeling more comfortable, seeing how happy he was. Emmet’s smile brightened, and you couldn’t help but think his smile looked good on him. “No, but I had commissioned a friend of the hive to make it for my brother and myself! Through trade, they even made extra Depot Agent uniforms for the drones!” He explained. You blinked. “...So the whole hive is themed like the subway?” You asked, a bit surprised. Emmet nodded excitedly.

“Yup yup! The drones were quite taken with the uniforms! After the Queen died, we had more freedom to do as we wished, dress as we wished.” You were still a bit surprised. You hadn’t heard of insect hybrid colonies or hives doing this, but it was kind of a cute visual, if you were being honest. Though you couldn’t help but wonder a bit at what he said. Just when had their Queen died? Had he not always been a King? How did that even work? You didn’t think hives even had King bees. Then there was the fact he didn’t exactly seem pleased when he talked about his former Queen. You couldn’t help but wonder if their reign hadn’t been a peaceful one. Were they strict? Overbearing maybe? Or maybe even worse in ways you didn’t want to imagine. As much as you wanted to ask, you wondered if it would be rude to do so, especially seeing as he was one of the current Kings. That was another thing you were curious about. You knew hives usually only had one Queen. From you could remember, you know that regular hives could sometimes have two Queens, but this wasn’t a regular bee hive. Could hybrid hives even have multiple royals? Perhaps it wasn’t impossible. As you thought this, you nearly missed the large door covered in wax that Emmet carried you through. It was such a shock, you nearly blanked out from the large area. Everything was covered in wax and combs. There were bee hybrids everywhere you looked! Some were flying throughout the room, others were on the walls, others were milling about on the floor, heading to one place or another. Some bees were even chatting with each other, and checking on papers or clip boards.

This definitely explained all the buzzing you had been hearing, and the drones digging tunnels into the walls was the rumbling, you assumed. True to Emmet’s word earlier, the bees all seemed to be wearing variations of the Depot Agent uniforms that the station used to have. Despite what some might call as chaos, you couldn’t help but find it all finely organized. If you were being honest with yourself, you were in awe at what you were seeing. Chances were, you were one of the few humans that ever even got to step foot in a hybrid hive, let alone this hive in particular. “Impressed?” Emmet’s voice once again shocked you out of your thoughts. His eyes seemed to almost light up as he watched you take in the hive. “It’s… Wow! I haven’t seen anything like this before. It’s so cool!” You spoke quietly, still amazed at the sights of the hive. Emmet couldn’t help but feel his antennae twitch at your words and expression, and his body straightened up with pride. It was a step forward! After all, how could you rule a hive, if you didn’t even like how it looked? That, and the fact that the cute human he found liked his home! You were impressed with what you saw so far, and this was only a small part of the whole structure! Not to mention, you didn’t seem freaked out in the slightest. He had to hold back his wings from buzzing in excitement. It was no secret amongst insect hybrids that they were not well liked among human kind. He had heard all sorts of things from other hybrids, and even from some humans himself. It wasn’t exactly fun being called or referred to as a ‘creepy crawly hybrid’, either. Most humans stayed clear of his kind, and his kind likewise did the same. Sure, there was the little hiccup when you first saw him, but it was now obvious it was from your situation, and your nerves. You seemed un-bothered about his and the drones’ appearances now that you were a bit more calm! Yes, this was already going a lot smoother than he had originally aimed for. Meanwhile, as Emmet carried you further into the hive, you couldn’t help but shift a bit in Emmet’s hold every now and then. Every time you passed a bee, if they weren’t busy, they’d see you in the King’s grip, and stare. Some seemed confused, Some seemed suspicious, others almost looked as awed as you felt. But much to Emmet’s word, they did nothing to you. They didn’t even stop the King hybrid as he merrily carried you along. The stares made you a bit uneasy. Just what would have happened if Emmet had not come across you? Would they have attacked on sight? Or had given you directions out of the tunnels? You couldn’t help but think of the ‘what ifs’, and just how close you could have possibly been to death. This didn’t go unnoticed by Emmet. You didn’t seem bothered by the drones themselves, but you seemed a bit skittish when they openly stared at you both. He supposed he couldn’t blame you. You were in a very vulnerable state. Though it made him feel a bit sad you felt this way. But no matter! Himself and Ingo could get the hive used to you in no time. He was sure with a little bit of kindness, and a bit of a push, you would grow comfortable with his drones as well! After all, he really didn’t want you scared of the other bees, especially when you seemed so interested in them. Truly, as long as himself and Ingo said so, the drones would never lift a finger towards you. He had to make you comfortable. Though that left another thing lingering in Emmet’s mind. No doubt Ingo wouldn’t be pleased with him bringing a random human into the hive without consulting him first. Emmet was sure Ingo would listen to reason when he heard your story, and saw you were injured. His older twin may be wary of humans, but he had always been curious of them, and a big softie to boot, despite his strict face. Ingo also didn’t like turning people away who needed help, unless it hurt the hive. But how to get Ingo on his side for his grand plan? How to convince him? As he went over his minor mental dilemma, you could only admire the hive as Emmet crossed the giant area, taking you into a large hallway. The few bees in the area quickly moved out of his way. Although many had their eyes on you, they still took time to greet the King. Some offered a small wave or smile, others gave a brief bow. It made you critically aware of just how casually you had been treating someone considered royalty this whole time. He didn’t seem upset or anything, from what you could tell. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Have you done anything offensive that you were unaware of? You don’t think you’ve done or said anything, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit weird about it. “Um… Mr. Emmet…” You spoke up gently. His eyes landed back on you. “Yes? You may just refer to me as Emmet.” He told you. Despite the assurance, you could help but still be a bit nervous. “About that… Should I be referring to you with a royal title as well? I don’t want to offend you…” You spoke, unsure about the situation. He was being kind enough to let you stay and heal, you didn’t want him upset. At your question, he seemed to stop for a moment and think. “No. You are not a drone, you are a guest of the hive. Emmet is just fine.” He told you, though. “But thank you for asking!” You let out a sigh of relief. You hadn’t offended him, and you had permission to just refer to him as his name. An odd thing to have been hung up on, but you couldn’t afford to piss a King off, you figure. Before you could dwell more on it, Emmet turned a corner, and entered a rather large room. Like the hall and the large room from before, it was covered in wax, and had several dozen honeycombs littering the walls. There were several drones flying around, checking on the combs, or milling about. A few drones were even on the beds, some hidden behind curtains, others being checked on by other drones. The room itself had several beds across the room, and you easily figured this must be an infirmary of sorts. As Emmet walked in, almost all eyes were on the King and you. You fought the urge to squirm in his hold as he carried you to the corner of the room. A few drones moved out of his way, and he gently placed you down on a very soft cot of sorts. “Give me just a moment, please.” He told you, and ushered a few drones over, and walked a bit of ways away to speak to them. You sat on the elevated bed, looking around the room, though it was a little hard to do so. The bed Emmet had chosen for you had a curtain around the side of it, so you took in what you could. The drones especially had caught your attention, not just the ones talking to Emmet. The King hadn’t been kidding about a subway theme for the hive. Almost all the drones walking and flying around were wearing the green Depot Agent uniform that the official subway used in the heart of Nimbasa city. They each had 2 sets of arms, one through the regular sleeves, and a pair of arms just under the other pair, ripped through the uniform. An odd detail you also noticed. The King only seemed to have one pair of arms. You supposed that was normal? Though you didn’t know enough about King bee anatomy to dispute it. You couldn’t help but also notice little details about the drones. They all looked very similar at a glance, sure, but they each had their own unique little traits. From height, weight, muscle (did bees have muscles???), wings, and even fuzz and face details. They looked so cool. You couldn’t help but find them interesting to watch. You were already a bit of a people watcher, so getting to watch hybrid bee drones move around and work like this was fascinating to you. But you also didn’t want to just stare at them. Was that rude? Probably. Though it’s not like you had anything else you could do. It was the only thing capturing your attention, and distracting you a bit from the increasing pain your leg was in. Emmet was too far away for you to hear what he was saying to the drones, though you did see some salute him, and run out of the infirmary. He seemed to then instruct another set of bees, occasionally gesturing to you. Whatever he was saying seemed to catch them by surprise, though he had their utmost attention. Some even had clipboards, and were furiously writing down notes, occasionally glancing your way, then back at the King. You weren’t quite sure if that was a good thing or not. Before you could dwell on it further, Emmet quickly returned to your side with several of the drones he had been talking with. He seemed excited, along with the bees, who all seemed eager to see you.

“Excellent news! I have some drones on standby learning more about human anatomy to help you heal comfortably. As they go over the information, the hive’s medics will be looking over you to the best of their ability. Will that be alright with you?” He asked, looking over at you expectantly.

You blinked, trying to process what he just said for a moment. That… Was already a lot. You just expected maybe to have a bed and wait for the break to heal so you could leave, maybe get it rebroken at an ER so it could heal properly. This was going above and beyond what you expected them to do for you. They waited for you to answer patiently, and you finally nodded your head. “I… Okay. That will be alright.” Perhaps you should have given it more thought, but the bees were already moving after you gave them the okay. Still, thoughts couldn’t help but flow through your mind. Should you have agreed? When will you be better? When would you be able to go home? You felt the exhaustion hit you when you thought about everything going on in your life, now that you had ended up trapped. Did your boss call anyone? What about your coworkers? Had they left you in that tunnel to die? Have they even alerted the police you had been left behind, probably injured and alone? Did they even think you were alive?

…Did they even care? Would you end up just a passing thought? Would your boss cover up your disappearance?

Would your family even be informed?

You could feel your mind quickly beginning to spiral as you really began to think about everything.

Your breathing was picking up, and your vision was beginning to blur. Faintly, you could feel yourself beginning to sweat. Just out of your vision, you were barely aware of the drones moving around you, until you felt a cold hand on your shoulder. The touch startled you, and you looked up. Emmet was looking at you, and the smile you had gotten used to seeing on his face was nowhere to be seen. “Are you alright?” He asked, clearly concerned.

You had begun to smell… Off. Nor had you looked completely there. When you had started shaking and breathing quickly, he was quick to worry. What was wrong? Was this a human thing? Was it the shock wearing off?

Different questions ran through his mind, and his wings twitched with worry. When you turned to look up at him, he felt his breath catch. The way you looked at him made you seem so vulnerable. It really hit him in that moment, just how much you must be going through. He couldn’t say if it was physical pain, mental pain, or a mixture of everything, but you were trying so hard not to break. You took a moment to stare at him, before reaching up, and rubbing the tears that threatened to fall away. His presence had luckily snapped you out of it before you fell in too deep. “Y-Yeah. Sorry. Just… overwhelmed. Sorry ‘bout that.” You mumbled, looking away from him, a bit embarrassed. Emmet thought to himself for a moment. He really couldn’t imagine what you must be feeling, or what you are going through. Emmet had no idea what kind of life you lived, especially since he had just met you about an hour ago. There was a slight peace in his mind, knowing this was probably just stress in general, not fear from his hive. But he would not lie. He was worried about you. The stress you were under must be immense.

Internally, he went over what you may need in his head. First, you needed medical aid, which his drones were already working on. He had already sent several to grab some human medical aid supplies that he knew had been left behind when the subway was abandoned. After that, you probably needed rest, first and foremost. That, and food and water, something he had sent several other drones on a mission to find. If he recalled correctly, humans could eat a lot of things, including fruit. Some fruit, added with some of their honey, and you should be feeling better in no time! But first, you needed medical attention and rest.

Perhaps he should move you to a separate room? You’ll probably feel more at ease, with less curious eyes on you. Just as he opened his mouth to ask if you’d like that, the doors to the infirmary burst open. “EMMET!” Emmet winced. You meanwhile, jumped at the sudden loud noise. When you faced the direction of the doors, you were surprised to see another bee hybrid the size of Emmet turn the corner. “Emmet, just what do you think you are-” He said, beginning to lecture the other hybrid, only to pause when he saw you past the curtains. You shied back a bit from his intense gaze. The hybrid stared at you for a moment, mouth agape as he looked you over. His eyes landed on your injured leg, before he glanced back at you, and then back to Emmet. As he did so, you got a good look at him. This must be Emmet’s twin brother. Emmet hadn’t specified how he had a twin, only mentioning to you in the tunnels he was one of the twin Kings of the hive. And they certainly looked like it, as they stood side by side. Where Emmet’s coat was white and gold, his brother’s was black and gold. Even his trousers were black, along with his little hat, which also had a gold trim above the rim. Other than that, the only physical difference was the frown on his brother’s face, where Emmet still had a smile. Though you could tell the smile was now a nervous one. Those two were nearly identical.

You fought back the heat rising in your cheeks as he stared at you.

He was just as pretty as his brother. A beat passed, and Emmet tried to speak up.

“Ingo-” Ingo(?) quickly turned to Emmet, before casting one more glance at you, then pulling his brother away from the bed you were on. You could only hope you weren’t getting Emmet in trouble by being here… Emmet however, was more or less expecting this to happen, just not as soon as it did. Ingo pulled him into the corner of the infirmary, making sure you were out of sight and hearing range, before his brother’s eyes were on him. “I can explain-” Emmet began, before Ingo crossed his arms, wings twitching in irritation. “Yes, please do. Why did you think it would be a good idea to bring a human into the hive, without consulting anyone first?” Despite how upset his brother seemed, Emmet held himself back from sighing in relief. He could read his twin better than anyone. Ingo was upset, sure, but also incredibly curious. No doubt after seeing your injury, he had an idea what had happened, but wanted to hear it from Emmet himself. Emmet took a deep breath, before explaining. “I was in the tunnels north of here, going over the expansion progress from our workers. I had been flying back, when I saw the human limping in the dark at the first diverging set of tracks.” He began, and he had Ingo’s immediate attention. “From the split tracks? So they came in from the poorly sealed entrance that had been broken into a few years ago? Isn’t that still unstable?” Ingo asked, his tone growing worried. Emmet nodded in confirmation. “Yes. Apparently, they came down here because they were made to by their boss and his drones. From what I could gather, somehow the entrance caved in, and the human’s leg was crushed, and they were left behind.” Ingo’s eyes widened, and he glanced back in the direction of the cot you were sitting on, before landing back on Emmet. “And they walked all the way to the crossroads? With a broken leg?” Emmet grinned at Ingo’s awestruck expression. “Nope! They walked even further.” Ingo looked at him in disbelief. “I followed them for a while, unaware that they had been injured. I was curious as to why they were down here, and if they were here for the hive. I had concluded they were actually injured, and approached them about 30 minutes out from the north lobby.” Emmet’s hands raised as he tried to explain what happened, his wings and antennae twitching as he did so. “They were startled at first, but seemed surprised, rather than scared to see me. In fact, I think they were rather impressed.” Ingo stared at him for a moment. “So they weren’t scared of you, an insect hybrid?” Emmet shook his head, his grin growing. “Nope. They seemed surprised to see me, but did not fear me!”

It was mostly the truth. Sure, he did scare you, but that was more situational than his hybrid status.

What Ingo didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Ingo had an odd look on his face, and raised a hand to his chin as he continued to think. “So, I offered them help. They were alone, and were about to walk into the hive anyways. They are injured, and are no threat.” Emmet assured Ingo, though continued to speak. “I apologize for not informing you first, I-” Emmet began, and Ingo raised his hand, causing Emmet to pause. “I can see where you are coming from now. No apology needed. I apologize instead for yelling at you in front of our guest. I owe them an apology as well, it seems.”

Emmet’s smile widened. He knew it would not take much for Ingo to waver over this!

Though before his brother could walk over to see you, he grabbed Ingo’s sleeve.

“I would like to talk to you momentarily in private, after this.” Ingo looked over Emmet’s expression, trying to glean just what he wanted to talk about, though nodded his head anyway. Judging by Emmet’s tone and face, he was serious. “Okay. Will do.” After that, Emmet let go of Ingo’s jacket, and both walked back over to the bed you were sitting on, talking to a drone with a clipboard. “...No, not particularly. I should be fine eating that.” They heard you say, and the drone eagerly wrote something down. Both you and the drone looked up when both twins arrived. The drone did a small bow in greeting, before continuing to write. Ingo cleared his throat, before tilting his head towards. “Hello, I would like to apologize for my earlier outburst. I had not been made aware of the situation. I hope you can forgive me for startling you.” Ingo said, putting a hand to his chest, and doing a small bow. Ingo felt a bit embarrassed that he had yelled and intimidated you. If you were truly an injured human who Emmet deemed no threat, then he would treat you like a guest. Both of them dreamed of being good hosts to those who needed it, even if they weren’t going out of their way to have guests. It was something the last Queen hadn’t been, and they wished to change that. What better way than starting with an injured human? You were a bit speechless though, seeing the other King of the hive just come up and apologize to you. “Oh… It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You told him, tilting your head. Emmet had mentioned he would need to let his brother know at some point, though you guessed the drones must have gotten the news to his twin first. Ingo shook his head. “I still yelled without knowing the situation. I apologize for doing so.” Despite the frown on his face, he seemed genuinely upset. It tugged at your heart a little bit. You gave him a small smile. “I accept your apology then. I’m not upset!” The hybrid then gave you a nod, and what looked like a small smile. “I’m glad. Now then, how is everything? What do you need?” He asked, clapping his hands together. You blinked, and looked between the two royals, and then to the drone. “Uh… I’m okay? I was telling the drone here what I can and can’t eat.” The drone next to you nodded, giving a small salute. “Yes! We wanted to be sure there was no risk for any allergies, and if we needed to get anything for specific dietary needs.” It was kind of sweet, and considerate, you thought. You wouldn’t have figured the bee hybrids to be more concerned over your needs than your own fucking job and coworkers. But hey, you were thankful. You weren’t gonna complain. Hell, you were half tempted to thank them on your hands and knees. They could have killed you, or left you to rot, completely lost in the tunnels. Instead, the hive actively wanted to help you so far.

The Kings, and even the few drones you have met so far all seemed nice. They were all gentle with you, and were making sure you were comfortable before doing anything with you or your leg. The other drones didn’t make you as nervous now, after talking with one of them. From what you could gather, most were genuinely just curious, which was a relief for you.

Both the Kings looked between you and the drone. “We also have a list of any allergies to be aware of, and the others are currently on their way back with some medical supplies.” The drone piped up again, twirling the pen between his fingers. You nodded. “Yeah. Thank you by the way. I appreciate you all taking the time for that.” You said, making sure to look at all three of them. It wasn’t much, but you at least wanted to vocalize it. The drone smiled brightly, and his wings cutely buzzed behind him. “It’s no problem at all!” Ingo and Emmet nodded at you as well. “Yes, it is no trouble! Thank you for being patient with us as we figure things out. We have not had a human in the hive in over a decade, so forgive us if it takes some time to figure things out.” Ingo said, thanking you instead. You had to hold yourself back from getting a bit flustered. Your emotions were definitely a bit high strung tonight. You felt like your nerves were all over the place. Still, it was a bit nice to be treated so kindly like this. When was the last time anyone had shown you such concern and kindness? Emmet then brought up his hand, and caught your attention. “I was thinking. Would you like a room, instead of the infirmary?” he asked, with a cute tilt of his head. Your eyes widened at the question, and you shook your head, hands waving. “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that! I’m just thankful for the help as it is, no need to go out of your way for me! It’s okay, I-” You tried to finish speaking, only for Ingo to speak up. “Nonsense! You are our guest. Let us take care of you!” Emmet nodded, clapping his hands in a familiar fashion to Ingo. “Yup! Yup! It is no problem!” The drone next to you all hummed, and put the end of the pen against his mouth. “It’s true, despite how cluttered it looks, we have the space. There are plenty of empty rooms we have ready on standby for guests. Some were made for future projects that never saw fruition. Others are remnants from the subway system, we just have not found a use for them.” He explained. “Honestly, it would be no issue! Please, allow us to treat you.” Ingo finished, and you felt all their eyes on you, almost eager to please. You had to hold back your jaw from dropping. You… Were not expecting this kind of treatment. Genuinely, you felt like it wasn’t necessary to go above and beyond for you, but you could tell that arguing as such would probably be a losing battle. “Okay. If you insist.” You said, albeit a bit unsure. Ingo clapped his hands one more time, his eyes lighting up. “Bravo! We shall have you healed up in no time!” You were expecting Emmet to come pick you up again, though were surprised when Ingo walked over, and held out his arms. “May I carry you to your destination?” His silver eyes were on you, waiting expectantly. You suddenly felt a bit flustered, but nodded your head. “You may.” Ingo’s wings buzzed for a moment, almost as if he was excited. Then he reached out, gently scooping you up in his arms, being mindful of your injured leg. You let out a small gasp at the action, and held onto his shoulders as he slightly adjusted you to a more comfortable hold. You happen to look up, and meet his eyes again. The silver, just like Emmet's, almost seemed to glow. It nearly took your breath away. Emmet cleared his throat, causing you both to break eye contact, and turned to the drone. “Please have some drones make sure room 15c is ready. We shall depart shortly.” The drone nodded, and immediately scurried off. Emmet turned towards you, and gave you another bright smile. “The room is more or less already set up, for the rare chance we host visitors and merchants from other colonies. It should be ready when we arrive.” You nodded, a bit overwhelmed again. It has been a long day, and it wasn’t even ten pm yet. A part of you wondered if this was all just a fever dream of some sort. Perhaps you were really just at home, and having the most realistic dream of your life. It wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t a dream. The pain, the fear from earlier, that was too real of an experience. Still, a part of you could hardly believe the situation you were currently in. Just how many humans got to say they were carried bridal style by two King Bee Hybrids in one night? …Granted, you didn’t think most humans could even say they got stuck in a cave thanks to their coworkers, and nearly stumble upon a hybrid hive either. It had been a long day. You were brought out of your thoughts though, when Ingo and Emmet began walking, taking you back into the hallway from before. They continued down the long hallway, occasionally pointing out things of interest to you. Different drones, a few rooms with food, or honeycombs, some rooms with what looked like a lot of paperwork. It was all fascinating to you. As you admired the different rooms you passed, you failed to notice how the twin’s eyes seemed to almost always be on you.

Ingo nearly couldn’t believe it. He was holding a human! One that wasn’t afraid!

He had seen a few humans before, back when he had been a drone. However, he had never shown himself unless necessary. The few times he had, never really went well.

They were either terrified, grossed out, or felt they were above him.

It was enough to make him want to keep his distance.

He knew not all humans were that way, but the few experiences he had made him want to avoid going out and making contact. Unless it was absolutely necessary, of course.

Which unfortunately, would have had to have been soon, regardless of his feelings.

But then he saw you.

You piqued his curiosity.

A human who wasn’t afraid? Who happily chatted with them and the drones?

Not to mention, you were rather easy on the eyes. You were easily one of the most attractive humans he had ever seen He looked at Emmet from the corner of his eye. His twin’s gaze was on you, even as he explained how a room was set up that they had passed. For a brief moment, Emmet’s eyes met his, before going back to you. You had potential. You could be perfect, just what the hive needed. Now it made a bit more sense. Emmet was kind. He would have helped you regardless, unless you had been hostile back in the tunnels. His younger twin didn’t like seeing others suffer. With that broken leg of yours, you definitely needed help, and Emmet wouldn’t have ignored that. However, if Emmet had wanted, he could have easily just taken you out of the tunnels, and into the city for help. No doubt you would have been taken care of. But Ingo could see the bigger picture. Emmet wanted to make a great impression on you. He wanted to help. Wanted you to like him, and to like the rest of the hive. And Ingo knew why.

You had potential to be the perfect Queen the hive needed. Ingo felt the gears turning in his head. Emmet was making gamble, putting his eggs in a single basket like this. However, both were getting desperate. They couldn’t support the hive forever on their own, and there weren’t any other bee hybrid hives in the nearby area to help with this issue. That, and bee hybrids specifically could be terribly territorial. He doubted any would help unless it had major benefits to their own hive. With their own hive being in the state it was in, just reaching out was a risk neither wanted to particularly take. So helping you like this, it was a huge gamble.

But ingo looked over at your cute, curious expression, and felt his antennae twitch.

This was a gamble Ingo decided he wanted to take stakes in.

One thing was for certain, Ingo and Emmet were very similar in a lot of things. One of those things being both enjoyed a risk. You weren’t some trophy to be won, nor would they treat you as such. But you were worth the effort to try and win over, he could feel it. They would not force you to take this role, of course. Everyone would only end up miserable if that were the case. You and the drones did not deserve that. Especially after the last Queen’s rule. But he had to have hope over this. His eyes once again landed over on Emmet. His brother had mentioned wanting to talk to him privately. Ingo had a feeling that it was over you, and the possibilities laid out before them.

He looked forward to that conversation. However, it would have to wait. The room was fast approaching, and they had to get you as comfortable as possible. These next few weeks were going to possibly be rough for you as you healed, so Ingo was eager to get you comfortable as soon as they were able. When they approached the room, Emmet was quick to walk up front and open the door. Ingo gave him a nod, and brought you inside. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight. The room was a little dusty, but still fairly clean. A bed was at the back of the room next to a wall, with a cute little black end table. The bed itself had basic black sheets, with a gold comforter and pillow cases.

‘Cute…’ you couldn’t help but think. The walls were a dark gray, and had a few posters from the old subway, and what looked like motivational posters as well. There was also what looked like a restroom off to the side, something you were very thankful to see. Ingo carried you through the room, and ever so gently laid you down on the bed. It was a lot bigger up close. Was it a king size? Before you could ask, Emmet placed his hands on his waist, and nodded. “Excellent. Is the room to your liking?” He asked, genuinely curious. You looked around the room a little more, before nodding your head with a small smile. “It’s very nice, thank you for letting me use it.” Both twins seemed to almost preen under your thanks, standing a little straighter. “Of course! We’re glad to be of service.” Ingo then turned to Emmet, and whispered something to him, causing the other twin to nod. Ingo turned back.

“We will try getting some more furnishing for you when the opportunity arises, we apologize in advance for that.” He told you suddenly, and you felt your eyes widen. Before you could tell them it wasn’t necessary, the door was knocked on, and a few drones peeked their heads in. They looked at you all, curious, though especially curious about you. Emmet waved them in, and they shuffled into the room. There were four in total, all wearing the cute little Depot Agent uniform. “We have the medical supplies!” The smallest one said with a cheer, and the biggest one behind them held up a box full of first aid equipment. “Bravo! Excellent!” Ingo praised them, and the bees sat up in pride.

Then, everyone turned towards you, and you suddenly felt a bit small at their intense gazed.

You could only hope they knew how to properly help you.

374 notes · View notes

kaminocasey · 1 year

Text

Tech Care

(Get it, like "Take Care" lmao)

Summary: Tech breaks his leg. You try to help.

WC: 600

A/N: I hope you ALL tag me in your taking care of Tech with a broken leg fics, please and thank you!! <3

When you’d heard from Omega and Echo that a crate had fallen on Tech and broke his femur, you were beyond worried. You, Hunter, and Wrecker were trying to get back to them as soon as you could, but it didn’t seem like that was fast enough. So much had gone so wrong, so quickly. When you get back to Cid’s, you’re giving her a piece of your mind. War chest, be damned. What if that had been Omega?

You notice Omega and Echo having a moment so you leave them be and go back to the bunks to check on Tech. You’d set the fracture and put his leg in a temporary splint until you could land again.

“You’re pacing again.” Tech looks up from his holopad, slightly annoyed.

He was doing better since you’d given him something for the pain, but now all you could do was hover.

“I’m sorry…” You sit on Hunter’s bunk across from Tech’s.

“There was nothing you could have done. It was an unfortunate accident.” Tech looks back at his holopad.

He’s trying to make you feel better in his own way but still, you can’t help but feel bad. You were supposed to stay with Echo, Omega, and Tech… but you’d followed Wrecker out of the war chest and-

“I can see my words are not helping… perhaps if you check my leg again… keep yourself busy?” He smiles ever so slightly.

You can’t help but smile back. “Thanks…”

You carefully sit on his bunk, checking out the splint, making sure that it’s tight enough, but not too tight, that it’s set correctly, being careful enough not to hurt him.

“I was supposed to stay with you guys…” You murmur, looking down at his leg.

Tech sighs, sitting his holopad down and placing a hand over yours. The action is very unlike Tech so you can’t help but look up at him, confused.

“Things… happen.” He nods.

“‘Things happen’?” You ask with raised eyebrows. “Who are you and what have you done with Tech?”

“That older gentleman… Romar… he sort of put things into perspective for me when we were taking shelter. He said they had existed before the war… that they weren’t Separatists, but Serennian.” Tech tells you, quietly. “I told him I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

This man must have really gotten to Tech, because he looks deep in thought. You don’t want to bother him anymore so you start to get up, but are kept in place with Tech’s hand.

“I am glad it was me and not you or Omega.” He nods.

You can’t help but smile at the kind thought of Tech caring about you, touched that he would even say such a thing, but still disagreeing. Placing your hand over Tech’s, he gives you a kind smile and you stay like that for a bit until Wrecker and Omega come barrelling through, goofing around a bit.

“Be careful. Don’t want to hurt Tech even more than he already is.” You warn them.

“Let them have their fun. I imagine Cid will have something to say to put a damper on their moods.” Tech shrugs.

He had a point. You still know that you’re going to have words with Cid before she can get her words in.

Echo calls you up to the cockpit and you give Tech one last light squeeze before he lets you go. He murmurs your name one last time and you turn around, smiling.

“What is it?”

“I’m grateful for your help… and-” He struggles to find his words.

“And?”

“That’s… it.” He nods.

“I’m grateful for you too, Tech. Get some rest.” You give him one last sympathetic smile before going back up to the cockpit to talk to Echo and Hunter.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @grievouus @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @corona-one, @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @crosshairmylove587 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @dnxgma @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @greaser-wolf

#tbb s2 spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb tech #tbb #bad batch spoilers #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you #tbb s2

300 notes · View notes

cowboydisaster · 1 year

Text

His Brother's Keeper

pairing: Arthur and John (PLATONIC) this isn't a ship fic. I explain more in the notes

word count: 5.3k

summary: John goes to Arthur at some of the most important turns in his life, and recounts his brother's words once Arthur is no longer here.

a/n: If you are scrolling past this because its not x reader I beg you to give it a chance. This is my first fic without x reader, but I really am proud of it. I got this idea while thinking about John and Arthur's younger years, I wanted to write something about their sibling relationship, and John going to Arthur for advice. I can honestly admit that I both laughed out loud and cried while writing this. There's so much emotion: joy, love, grief, anger, fear. It's very raw. anyhow, if you've stuck around this long to give it a chance I appreciate you. <3

warnings: theres nothing explicit but I wanted to add these in case- mentions of Arthur's death, mentions of pregnancy, angst

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

Rio Bravo, 1892:

It’s late in the night, owls hoot and coyotes yip, claiming the dusty plains as their own for the next few hours. Despite the late hour, Arthur’s not feeling tired. He sits up in bed, one knee bent, reading some old dime novel that Hosea had let him borrow. Arthur’s other hand rests on Copper, scratching behind the Vizsla's ears, his favorite spot. The dog grumbles, pressing into Arthur’s hand and demanding more of his attention.

“What is it boy? You’re takin’ up the whole damn bed.” Arthur chuckles, scooching towards the dog to avoid falling off his cot. Copper only wags his tail, nudging his cold, wet nose under Arthur’s hand until he keeps petting him. Arthur smiles down at the pup.

Arthur is surprised when he hears a knock against the outside beam of his tent, and he sits up taller, placing the novel on the stand beside the pictures of Mary and his momma.

“Yeah, come on in.” Arthur hollers towards the canvas flap, and is surprised even further when John walks in. Little Johnny, he’s been running with them for nearly five years. He’s taller now, more of a man, but still acts like an annoying kid, like a spoiled, rabid thing. But now, as he steps inside the tent, he looks… upset. His face is downcast as he slowly makes his way to Arthur’s bed, petting Copper for comfort.

“It’s late John, whatchu need?” Arthur asks, not angry, but confused. John doesn’t usually come to Arthur like this, upset and seeking comfort. Even though Marston is a little bastard, Arthur feels bad for whatever misfortune seems to be weighing on him.

“Remember when you were engaged…?” John asks sheepishly, eyes flickering to the portrait of Mary on Arthur’s table. Arthur’s eyebrows pull together. Sometimes John does things like this, bringing up old wounds and wasting time to piss people off. But by the look on John's face, Arthur doesn't think he's looking to annoy.

“The hell kind of question is that? Yes I remember bein’ engaged." Arthur sighs, watching as John touches Copper’s nose a couple times, not making eye contact with the older outlaw.

“Look if you came in here just to badger me, I’ll be tossin’ you in the San Luis again.” Arthur growls, and John looks at him, eyebrows raised in fear.

“No, no! I'm serious, Arthur!” John says, going feral at the thought of being thrown in the river again. When it happened the first time, Arthur didn’t know John couldn't swim, John couldn’t get the words out quick enough- it was a whole ordeal, and Dutch coddled the damn kid for weeks afterwards.

“Well then why you askin’?” Arthur asks, scooching as far towards the makeshift headboard as possible and gesturing for John to sit down by the footboard. He does, criss-crossing on the bottom of the bed, dragging mud onto Arthur’ sheets. Copper rests between the two of them, extremely content with all the attention he’s receiving. John’s eyes remain down on Copper, a small, embarrassed, blush on his cheeks.

“There’s this girl and I… I like her, Arthur.” John breathes out, relieved to have finally said the words out loud. Arthur chuckles loudly, leaning his head back for a second.

“Little Johnny Marston has his first crush! This poor woman, she sweet on you too?” Arthur asks, and John thinks for a moment before shrugging.

“I don't know… how can you tell?”

Despite the jokes, Arthur doesn't mind helping John. He’s glad that John trusts him enough to talk about this stuff. Arthur could have used some more guidance in his younger years when it came to women. Arthur sighs, growing serious as he looks across to John’s curious eyes.

“Well, it’s about readin’ the room, readin’ her body language, y’know? Why don’t you tell me about her?” Arthur says, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his nightstand. He strikes a match against the grainy side of the box, lighting the smoke before bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag. When Arthur looks up, John is extending a hand, asking for a turn with the cigarette.

“Fine, but don’t go tellin’ Dutch I gave you this, n’ sure as hell don’t tell Bessie or we’ll both get our asses kicked. Now c’mon, tell me about your woman.” Arthur whispers, leaning forward to hand John the cigarette.

“Her names’ Abigail,” John smiles just at the mention of her name.

Oh he is gone on her.

"And I think I’m in love with her…” John whispers, eyes far away as he takes a long pull from Arthur’s smoke before coughing a little at the burn. Arthur chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, hold your horses there, partner. You even talked to this lady yet?” Arthur asks, snatching his cigarette back from John and putting it out on the table.

“Well, kinda…” John mumbles. Arthur’s getting irritated with all of John’s dancing around, he wishes he would just get to the point.

“Whatchu’ mean ‘kinda’?” Arthur asks, tossing his hand in the air with some irritation. John’s cheeks turn red and he scratches the back of his neck, coughing awkwardly.

“Well I spent a few uh- I spent a few nights with her…” John whispers, waiting for the chastising that he knows he's about to get. Arthur runs his hand over his face, eyes wide.

“You WHAT?” Arthur growls. John is a dumbass, he of all people should not be getting involved with women in that manner, it's a choice Arthur has paid for.

“I mean I paid for the times-” John explains, and really Arthur doesn’t know if that's better or worse. Arthur shakes his head lightly, suddenly wishing he could just go to bed.

“Leave it to you to fall in love with the first girl who drains your tap- jesus, John.” Arthur sighs, exasperated, shocked even though he shouldn’t be. Arthur’s eyes come up to John, little John, sitting there looking like a stray, even after all this time. Arthur knows, knows by the look in his eyes, that this is something that means a lot to the younger outlaw, so he loses some of his bite and attempts to help.

“You’re goin’ about this all wrong. You’re supposed to court a lady, not pay for one…” Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, once again pinching the bridge of his nose as a question arises. It’s an awkward question, but one he feels obligated to ask for this poor woman’s sake.

“You at least-” Arthur sighs, rolling his eyes before cutting to the chase, “You at least took care of her, yeah?” Arthur asks. John's eyebrows pull together in confusion as he pets Coppers back.

“How you mean?” John asks, genuinely. And Arthur doesn’t know whether to be glad John’s asking, or ashamed that he doesn’t already know. Arthur places his head in his hands, groaning loudly before running them down his face and looking up to a very confused, very innocent John.

“How's this gettin’ worse-? I'm meanin' to ask did she-” Arthur rolls his hand, as if whatever he’s trying to get John to understand is obvious.

“Did she finish? Did you do anythin’ to help her find- her release?” Arthur asks, whole body cringing as he recoils from this damn conversation.

John’s jaw opens a little, and he looks to Arthur with wide, mesmerized eyes. John leans in, completely flabbergasted.

“... Women can do that too?” John asks, and Arthur prays that he’s joking, but by the pure look of shock on Marston’s features, he's dead serious. Arthur’s palm runs down his face.

“Christ alive, this is worse than I thought, kid.” Arthur groans, resting his head in his hands for a few minutes. John waits patiently, for once, for some more insight, some more tips. With a sigh, Arthur gestures for John to continue.

“Alright what’s she like, this Abigail? And don’t go tellin’ me about what you both got up to, please for chrissakes- just tell me about her.” Arthur pleads, fingers crossed that John won’t make this conversation any harder than it already is. John smiles, scratching at a hole in his jeans.

“She’s a lot smarter than me in some ways, funny too, but she’s mean to me sometimes.” John chuckles, and Arthur smiles, pulling another cigarette from his pack, hoping he’ll actually get to use this one. A smirk tugs at Arthurs lips as he brings the match to the smoke between his lips.

“Good, that means she likes you.”

John smirks at that, a young, sweet fluttering feeling in his chest. The boy’s naive, and Arthur knows it, but he deserves a chance at young, dumb love. It's a right of passage.

“She’s got eyes the same color as The Count’s, real blue.” John adds, thinking of Dutch’s little white arab and Arthur snorts.

“Alright buddy, we gotta work on your metaphors there, but you’re on the right track.” Arthur chuckles, and as it dies down he notices the small, sad tug at John’s lips.

“I’m just so lost. I wanna do the right thing, I don’t wanna mess this up, but she’s quick as a whip with the remarks, if I mess somethin’ up she’ll start makin’ fun of me. I guess I’m askin’, will you help me?” John asks, fingers rubbing circles on Copper’s belly.

“Sure,” Arthur starts, blowing some smoke out from his mouth before continuing, “We got a ground rule though: Don’t pay for her services again, n’ don’t touch her again. Not until you’ve courted her n’ not until she asks you to touch her. Suppose I’m gonna have to teach you more about that too or else Abigail is gonna have some real let down evenings.” Arthur takes another long draw from his smoke before wrapping up.

“But that’s the only rule, do not lay with her, not till she initiates it. Got that?” Arthur asks, looking at John who is rolling his eyes.

“But-” John starts, but Arthur cuts him off, sternly. This isn’t a rule he’s willing to compromise on.

“No buts. You want my help or not?” Arthur interjects, and John sheepishly nods.

“Good, so back to Abigail. She think you’re funny?” Arthur asks, leaning back against the headboard to give his back some relief. John nods with a huff.

“Yeah, I make her laugh. She probably thinks I’m dumber than a box a’ rocks and that's why she’s laughin’ but I’ll take what I can get.”

“No doubt,” Arthur jokes, “Alright take her out, somewhere nice.”

John piques up, an idea popping in his head.

“Okay, like the saloon?”

“No- goddamnit, not like the saloon. Take her for a picnic, or the theater or somewhere romantic. You want somethin’ intimate, somethin’ fun and sweet.” Arthur explains, thinking back to bittersweet memories of theater shows, chaperoned strolls and picnic dates. The memories tug on Arthur’s heart, and he quickly glances to the portrait of Mary before grabbing his satchel from the floor. He reaches in, pulling out a thick wad of cash before handing it over to John, whose eyes are boggling.

“Here, take this. Take a bath n’ get a haircut, you look like a damn sheepdog. Buy a decent outfit and take her somewhere she deserves. Be yourself, but be a gentleman. Y’know, hold doors, don’t interrupt her, hold her arm when you’re goin’ down the street, help her out of the coach, as hard as that all may be for you.” Arthur orders, tossing his satchel back onto the ground.

“Jesus, I'm gonna need a notebook for all this.” John huffs, tucking the money into his pocket.

“Lastly, most importantly, use that head, empty as it may be. Don’t think with your dick.” Arthur jokes, and John rolls his eyes with a smile, standing up from the bed and giving Copper one last pat.

“Kid?” Arthur calls, and John turns to meet his gaze.

“When the day comes for you to go out, come find me. I’ll help you get ready.” Arthur offers, and John smiles, excited for the first time in a while.

“Thanks, Morgan.”

— — —

Armadillo, 1894:

When John rides into camp on Old Boy, head hung low, Arthur knows something is wrong. It's late in the night, later than John usually returns. Marston is an open book, and now he's colored with worry. Arthur watches from his spot at the campfire as John jumps down from his stallion, not even hitching him. Copper stands up from his seat by Arthur, tail wagging as he runs over towards John. John doesn't even pet the vizsla, ignoring him much to Copper's disappointment. Oh, something is definitely wrong. Arthur swigs the last drop from his beer bottle before tossing it onto a growing pile of the things before reaching over to a half empty carton of beers and grabbing a new one.

Arthur pops the cap off, grabbing a stick from the ground and throwing it away from Copper for him to go fetch. John walks over sheepishly, dragging his heels. His shoulders are slumped over as he stands across the fire from Arthur.

"Oh I know that look. How bad is it? What did you do?" Arthur asks, resting his elbows on his knees.

John sighs, and there's emotions warring in his eyes, fear, sadness, anger. Arthur is all too familiar with it. But this is different for John. Somethings happened, there's been a shift.

"I fucked up- I fucked up real bad Arthur." John breathes out, resting his head in his hands. Arthur has a few ideas, but the one ringing loudest in his head is Abigail. When John comes back like this it usually has something to do with his woman. But even then, John never looked this lost.

"Abigail?" Arthur asks quietly, moving his eyes from Copper who is gnawing on the stick to John. Marston nods, running a hand over his face.

"Come sit down. What'd you do now? Ya damn fool." Arthur sighs, shaking his head while patting the log beside him. Arthur slides down the log, making room for John and grabbing an extra beer from the box. Like clockwork, John sits down by Arthur, and Arthur hands him a beer.

"Fraid I'm gonna need somethin' stronger than this, brother." John laughs, but it's humorless, cold. He pops the cap off, bringing the beer to his lips and Arthur knows he's gonna be nursing the bottle for a while.

"You actually gonna tell me what happened or you gonna keep bitin' a bullet?" Arthur urges as Copper runs over to John with his stick, tail wagging rapidly.

John ignores the dog, and his tail stops wagging. Arthur notices, and calls his pup over, throwing his stick for him. John's head hangs low, as he curls in on himself, hoping that the earth will just swallow him whole and spit him back out somewhere far away.

"She's pregnant, Arthur." John almost hisses, and Arthur's shoulders slump.

"Oh, Marston you goddamn idiot-" Arthur growls, huffing and shaking his head in disappointment. Because of course John has gone and done the one thing that'll ruin that poor girl's life. She'll be tied to him, to this gang in one way another for the rest of her days.

"It can't be mine, Arthur. I'm not- It's gotta be someone else's." John lies to himself, eyes far away. Something dangerous flashes across Arthur's face as he points his finger at the younger outlaw.

"Now you know that ain't true. Shut your mouth." Arthur growls, and John rests his head in his hands again, realizing that he can't run from this. The law, his past, he's been running all his life, and now he can't.

"I can't… I ain't ready to be a father." John huffs, picking his bottle up from the ground.

"Well you best get ready, boy." Arthur hisses, shaking his head, "You fool."

John chuffs, humorless as he squints at Arthur in annoyance. He gestures towards the older outlaw, bringing up some particularly painful pieces of Arthur's past.

"Why are you actin' like you didn't do the same damn thing?" John says, exasperated by Arthur's hypocrisy.

"I- that was different." Arthur growls, eyes fixated on Copper to avoid his brother's gaze.

"Was it?"

"I don't know…" Arthur sighs, bringing his near empty bottle to his lips.

"I can't help her, she's gonna have to-" John sighs, deeply. "I didn't intend for this to happen. I can't be a dad, Arthur. It ain't mine." John denies the responsibility, denies his actions and the consequences to them. Fury rages across Arthur's face. He's been down this path, he wanted his son, he wanted to be there. And here John is, throwing away the opportunity. Abigail doesn't deserve to go through this on her own, and Arthur will bend John's wrist if he has to.

"You best knock it off right now, Marston. Look at me." Arthur growls, glaring daggers at his idiot little brother.

"When Eliza fell pregnant, I wanted to be there, I wanted to step up-" Arthur starts, but John cuts him off, angrily.

"Yeah and how'd that work out for you, Arthur?" John hisses. He's said the words before he's even registered them, and immediately he regrets it. Arthur's face turns downright threatening, and his fist clenches at John's words.

"You watch your fuckin' tongue, John." Arthur growls. John's crossed a line and he knows it. The wound is still fresh in Arthur's mind, though he rarely brings it up.

"I shoulda stepped up but I didn't, not in the way I should have. I let them down, I weren't there n' now my boy is gone." Arthur snaps. John isn't looking at Arthur, but he's listening, getting the scolding that he expects, that he needs.

"So you better learn, you gotta help her. She didn't ask for this neither. This is your mistake, John, so you best own up to it. Be responsible, be a damn man for once." Arthur finishes his spiel, sighing and scooting to the ground, resting his back against the log he was just sitting on. He brings one knee up, resting his hand on it before tossing another empty bottle to the pile. Silently John follows suit, sitting on the ground next to Arthur.

"I… Sorry Arthur. Shouldn't have brought up Isa-" John starts, but Arthur raises his hand, cutting him off.

"Yeah, you shouldn’t have." Arthur pops open another beer, he's had too many, but he doesn't care, "Look at me." Arthur bites, and John sheepishly obliges.

"I ain't askin, I ain't suggestin. Go to your woman and help her. Be with her. This way of life? It aint gonna be easy for you with a kid, it weren't for me. Don't make my mistakes, kid. You fail her, or this kid, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life, I should know." Arthur mumbles, running his thumb over the lip of his bottle.

Copper comes trotting over, tail wagging, blissfully oblivious. He lays down between the two boys, always excited to be with them together.

"Tomorrow, go talk to her." Arthur sighs, laying his head back against the log, looking up at the sky.

There's a comfortable silence that falls over the two, with John thinking over the future and Arthur over the past. They think of their sons, ones to be and ones that were. Copper drapes over Arthur's lap, resting his head on the outlaw’s stomach.

"This can be a good thing y'know. If you let it." Arthur says, one hand resting on Copper and another on his beer. He sets the glass down, reaching silently into his pocket and pulling a pack of smokes out.

"You think?" John asks, crossing his hands behind his head to look up at the night sky.

Arthur brings the box closer to his eyes, pulling out a cigarette. John holds his hand out, asking for one. With a chuckle, Arthur pulls out a second and hands it over Copper to the younger man.

"Yeah. Havin' Isaac was the best thing I ever did. Somethin that good, that innocent comin' from my blood? He was a good kid." Arthur sighs, the old wound rearing its head as Arthur strikes a match off his boot, leaning over to light the cigarette between John's lips and then his own.

John nods, thinking over Arthur's words for a minute. Taking a pull from his cigarette and watching as he blows the smoke up into the air, John feels a little better.

"Thanks, Arthur…" John whispers, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, enjoying the way the alcohol and tobacco take the edge off. Arthur only nods in response, never much good at accepting compliments or thanks as another question pops into his mind.

"How far along is she?" Arthur whispers, eyes flickering to the younger man.

"Bout five or six months, the doctor says." John sighs, taking a swig of beer. Arthur whistles lowly, shaking his head.

"Shit, you're runnin' outta time to get it together, kid."

"Tell me about it." John whispers, finishing his beer.

Words don't need to be exchanged as John throws the empty bottle into the dirt. Arthur reaches over, grabbing another beer from the box and handing it over to John.

"So tomorrow I go talk to Abigail… but what the hell am I supposed to do now?" John sighs, looking up at the sky and wishing he could escape, follow the moon and never turn back.

"I reckon for now we get good and drunk, don't think either of us will be sleepin' tonight anyway." Arthur whispers. Simultaneously they bring their bottles together, clinking the glasses against one another in a toast.

"To your kid." Arthur says right as the bottles 'clink'.

"And to yours." John whispers back.

The night passes quietly, silent passes of beer bottles, quiet exchanges of matches. John is caught up in the future, in what he may become, and what might be of his son or daughter. And Arthur is caught up in his past, remembering Isaac and praying to any higher power that John won't make the same mistakes that he did.

"Not sure what I'd do without you Arthur…" John says, eyes slipping shut as he slurs his words, falling asleep on the log.

"You too, kid." Arthur whispers back, eyes already closed with Copper snoring on his chest.

— — —

Blackwater, 1907:

John stares down at the little objects in his hands, some of the only mementos he has left from arthur. He wishes that Arthur could be here right now, because Arthur always knew what to say. John is nervous, lost for words, somehow sure of everything and nothing at the same time. Many times, times like this, John has gone to his brother, hea hung low in search of the guidance that only Arthur could provide. But now Arthur is gone, and John is left to figure these things out on his own.

Most of his life John thought that Arthur was a fool for the way he loved so easily in his younger years. John thought that loving people made you weak, vulnerable. But now, as he looks down to the little ruby and gold ring under his thumb, pressed against a picture of Arthur and Mary, John thinks differently.

“Could use your advice now, buddy.” John chuckles, bittersweet, looking at Arthur in the old picture. He sighs, tucking the ring and photograph into his pocket just as Abigail rounds the corner from the restroom.

“Darling.” John smiles, looping his arm with her own, just as Arthur taught him all those years ago. He’s trying to remember everything. He helped her down from the wagon, held the door open for her and now he’s escorting her down the cobblestone road.

“We better get home.” Abigail whispers, seeing that the sun has begun to set behind the lake. It’s casting the town in a beautiful, golden glow, and though she’s worried about the farm, John has other plans. The ring Arthur had given to Mary burns in John’s pocket, and he’s all too aware of it as he takes a turn, leading her towards the dock.

“Nah, we never get out. The farm will be fine… Why don’t we go down to the lake?” John suggests, trying to be calm and collected, natural, as Arthur said.

“Be yourself, but be a gentleman. Y’know, hold doors, don’t interrupt her, hold her arm when you’re goin’ down the street, help her out of the coach, as hard as that all may be for you.” Arthur’s words ring out in John’s head like a mantra. He doesn’t want to mess this up. Abigail deserves nothing but the best and he is just a fool.

All the cheesy, romantic type things came so easily to Arthur. John loves Abigail, but he doesn't exactly know how to show it. He's clunky, less smooth than Arthur but he's trying, and that's gotta count for something, he's sure.

Abigail quirks a brow, but walks with him nonetheless, noticing how strange he's acting.

"The lake? You finally plan on drownin' yourself?" Abigail huffs, looking up at John with confusion. John sighs, content, as a light laugh falls over his lips.

"In a manner of speaking, I guess I am. Happily so."

Abigail smiles, and she knows something is up because he's just acting so damn strange. Earlier in the day, he had hopped up into the wagon, cursing himself before jumping back down and helping her to climb up. He'd walked into the door of the photographers, and just as the door was about to slam back into her face, he whipped around and held it open for her with a smile.

"You're a silly man, but you're actin' real strange, John Marston." Abigail chuckles as John leads her down the golden bank towards a little boat.

"Here, let me help you in." John offers, thinking that Arthur would definitely tell him to do this if he were here. In a strange way, though Arthur has been gone eight years, it seems as if he is here. John knows that somehow, somewhere Arthur is watching him, probably making fun of his poor chivalry, and slapping his hand over his forehead every time John slips up.

"Like I said… real strange." Abigail whispers, taking his hand and stepping into the boat. John makes sure she's settled properly before sitting down himself and grabbing the oars.

It's beautiful. Even John is impressed with the stunning golden light. It's mesmerizing, reflecting from the water. John rows out until he's in the perfect spot, and almost drops the oars before realizing that Arthur would yell at him for not turning the boat around. So, he uses the oars, turning the boat so that Abigail has the better view of the sunset.

Johns is nervous, but not necessarily in a bad way. Everything Arthur had told him, about love and fatherhood, about family, is starting to make sense in his eyes. John wants this, more than anything. He wishes Arthur had the chance for something similar.

"Will you-" John starts chastising himself in his head. No, he should definitely get down on one knee. John chuckles, thinking of everything Arthur taught him and everything Abigail has given him as he gets down on a knee in the old boat.

Abigail looks down at John, surprised, confused and happy. John looks at those familiar blue eyes, a genuine smile on his lips because she's given him so much.

"Will you marry me?" John asks, holding onto both of Abigail's hands.

Abigail chuckles, rolling her eyes.

"Get up, I am married to you." She chuckles, but her giggles die down when she sees that John isn't joking.

"No, I mean proper, in front of God." John says, squeezing her hands.

He watches as a range of emotions play over her face, and tears prick the corners of her eyes. He thinks he's doing pretty good with this, Arthur would be proud.

"You serious…?" Abigail asks.

Suddenly John realizes he forgot the damn ring, and he almost curses. Surely Arthur is cackling at him now, wherever he may be. Probably robbing the angels up in heaven, the bastard.

John reaches into his pocket, past the picture of Mary and Arthur until he feels the ring. With a small smile, he pulls it out and presents it to her.

"Got this ring… had it for a long time." John says quietly, slipping it over her left ring finger. Tears pool in Abigail's eyes, and a few slip out as she recognizes the ring and its origins.

"You serious?" Abigail repeats, at a loss for words.

John nods, dipping his head before meeting her teary, blue eyes.

"It would make me…" John struggles to find the words, wondering what Arthur would say before realizing that Arthur would tell him to be himself.

"It would make me very happy if you would-" John starts, finding his words before Abigail interrupts him.

"We've lived a lot of lives…" Abigail says, afraid, hopeful.

"Let's just live this one from now on." John smiles. Abigail nods her head as she looks down to the ring adorning her left ring finger. She laughs, tears streaming down her face.

“I love you-” John starts, knee digging into the floor of the boat as Abigail cuts him off.

"Kiss me, you silly fool." Abigail laughs, tears slipping down her pink cheeks. She pulls John up from his knees onto the seat, hands wrapped behind his neck as she pulls his lips to her own.

There's so much emotion behind the kiss. So much love and hope and remembrance and pain. All the two have been through, all they have grieved. Now at this moment, it all makes sense.

The kiss lasts a long while, ending just before becoming indecent. Abigail wraps her arms around John’s neck, pulling him down into a hug, never wanting to let go. After a while of just hugging and crying and kissing, the sun begins to slip behind the mountains, and John knows they better head back, lest he flip the boat in the dark and drown to death. Wouldn’t that be something. Abigail admires the ring as John rows back towards the dock, both are unable to clear the smile from their faces.

John pulls the boat near the dock, stepping out to pull it onto land. He takes Abigail’s hands, helping her to step out of the boat. Just as he helps her down, a smile on his face, he looks up to the wooden dock.

In the center of the dock, just as the golden light begins to fade behind the trees, a large whitetail buck stands proudly. It has massive antlers, a pristine coat, unlike any deer he's ever seen. The buck turns its head, looking directly at John before bowing its head to the man. John’s head cocks in confusion as he looks at the animal, feeling something… divine, like a presence. After a moment, the buck trots forward. It runs across the road, and a wagon passes by. When the wagon clears, the deer is gone. There’s no where it could have gone, it just… vanished. John's eyebrows pull together, and he looks down to Abigail as she clings to his side, stepping onto solid ground.

"Abigail did you… you see that?" John asks, looking to where the deer had run into the street and disappeared.

Abigail's eyebrows pull together as she looks up to where John is staring. A few horses trot down the path, a wagon rolls by…

"See what?" She asks. John only shakes his head, offering her a smile before leading her towards the wagon to return to the farm.

"It was uh- it was nothin' darling." John whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead with a smile before leading her home. John feels it in his heart, only the way a brother can, that Arthur is here, and he’s proud.

#arthur morgan #john marston #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #john marston fanfic #platonic

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eddie-is-baby · 2 years

Text

Those Good Days Passed

| Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader |

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent piece of writing. Odds are this will never see the light of day, but on the off chance I pull some courage out of my ass and post this bad boy, I am sorry. In an effort to put a metaphorical Band-Aid over my heart, I have decided to write my first multichapter fic throwing Eddie into the events of season three and fixing his completely unnecessary death scene. That is all :)

Summary: After years of being away from Hawkins, you're finally able to come down for a visit again. You’ve got a cabin, a ride, and a loving cousin to keep you company. The only problem is- you need a job, and it just so happens that a certain metal-head is looking for a new coworker.

Contents & Warnings: Fem!Reader, Reader is over 18, Multichapter Fic

Word Count: 4k

Chapter One - Cabin in the Woods

Your fingers were starting to go numb from how long you had been gripping the steering wheel. The drive from Hawkins hadn’t been an easy one. In fact, it had taken several hours to get anywhere near the damn place. In that time, you had been cut off twice, flipped off three times, and at one point, you even had to pull over to fix a blown tire… Overall, the trip could have gone better, but your journey was finally coming to an end.

As the scenery changed from seemingly never-ending monotonous highways to a sweet little townscape, you couldn’t help but sink down in your seat. This isn’t the first time you had been to Hawkins. Oh no. You had visited your aunt and little cousin many times throughout your childhood. Fourth of July, Christmas, Thanksgiving, all the big ones but as the years passed, the drive seemed to get longer and longer, and your parents just couldn’t spare the time to make the trip out anymore. However, now that you were older and your uncle conveniently needed someone to housesit his cabin, they finally agreed to let you visit for the summer.

Dustin, of course, had been ecstatic to hear about your extended stay, mainly because, in his own words, “it would give him and his party a new base of operations.” Whatever that meant. Despite your younger cousin's strange ideas of what house sitting meant, you were still excited to visit. It had been a while since you had last seen him, and if last year’s Christmas card was anything to go off of, the kid had really grown up.

The only things you were genuinely concerned about were one, becoming a babysitter for the summer, and two, finding a good enough job that you wouldn’t have to worry about babysitting duties. Aunt Claudia had mentioned something about a new mall opening up, so you had written up a few resumes before making the drive. Hopefully, whatever little shop decided to take you in wasn’t too mentally taxing, but you figured any mall job would work out just fine.

When the crunch of gravel under your truck's tires grew heavier and the bumps in the little dirt driveway became more frequent, you knew you had made it. However, just in case there was any doubt at all, Dustin was sitting there on the front few steps of the patio to welcome you into town. He was smiling, but his teeth were missing again! You could have sworn he had gotten dentures at some point, but maybe you were wrong? It was either that, or he had lost them, which seemed unusual for him. Perhaps there was some other reason?

You didn't have much time to think about it though because almost as soon as you had shifted into park, your favorite curly-haired cousin was swinging open the car door and pulling you into a hug.

“Dustin! C’mon, man. I still have my seatbelt on!” You laughed, hugging him back as you tried to wiggle your arms free enough to unbuckle yourself. Yup, he had certainly grown! He was practically twice as tall as he had been during your last visit and about three times as strong.

“This is what you get for taking so long to come back,” he argued playfully before finally stepping away to let you stretch your legs from the long drive.

The sentiment was enough to pull a smile onto your face as you hopped out of the truck. Your legs felt a bit like jelly, but you recovered quickly. You had a lot of unpacking to do afterall, and it had to be mostly done by five o’clock. The mall closed at nine, and you wanted at least a few hours to pass around some resumes. Maybe if you were lucky and some place was really short-staffed, they’d let you start within the next few days. Wouldn’t that be nice? However, right now, you needed to get all of your junk out of the truck and unload your bike.

“You gonna help me unload, or are you just going to keep giving me shit for being gone for the past few years?” You teased right back, giving him a light push on the shoulder before swinging the back hatch of the truckbed open.

You may have overpacked a little bit. Bringing your Suzuki was definitely an interesting choice given the fact that you already had the truck with you, but you just couldn’t justify leaving her behind! Plus, Dustin had mentioned wanting to take her for a spin, and you couldn’t just leave the poor guy hanging, even if it meant being scolded by your aunt for letting her “sweet little Dusty on that death machine.”

It took about an hour to get everything out and into the cabin. Clothes, cassettes, gear- everything a girl could need to survive a couple of months in Hawkins. However, just as you finished unpacking the last box of your various things you simply couldn’t live without, Dustin dramatically threw himself on the couch in faux exhaustion.

“No!” You groaned before trying to pull him up by the collar of his shirt. “Get up, lazy bones. We still need to go to the mall before it closes! Not all of us are protected under child labor laws anymore, remember?” Unfortunately, your very solid argument went completely ignored as he flopped back down onto the couch with a huff.

“I can’t believe you packed so much stuff. I must have brought in a million boxes!” Dustin complained as he pretended to wheeze out a final breath and die right there on your couch.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his ridiculous display before using all of your upper body strength to push the back end of the couch up and flip him onto the floor.

“Ah! What the hell!” The boy squealed before plummeting the foot's distance onto the carpet.

“It was barely ten boxes; stop being such a baby and get up.” Again, your words fell on deaf ears, so you did the only sensible thing and resorted to bribery. “If you help me unstrap my bike, I’ll buy you ice cream when we get to the mall.”

That seemed to do the trick because Dustin was up and at ‘em again in no time. Hell, he practically beat you outside, despite you being closer to the door. With your little cousin’s help, you managed to get your bike off the trailer in less than fifteen minutes and could now start heading towards Hawkins’ new pride and joy. Starcourt Mall.

She was a beauty, really. A true wonder of engineering, and by wonder, you meant that it was a wonder that it still worked. She had been wrecked, fixed, wrecked again, and put back together from the ground up. Aunt Claudia had called it a deathtrap, and to be completely honest, she probably wasn’t far off, but to you, she was ol’ reliable. So, after fixing your spare helmet onto Dustin’s head and pulling on your own, you kicked her into gear and set off down the road and towards the mall.

It had been a while since you had last visited Hawkins, but not much had changed. Well, save for the giant glowing neon beacon of capitalism, of course. Seriously, you thought you were going to have a harder time finding the mall, but between all of the extravagant billboards, bus routes, and the many many signs directing traffic towards the huge vibrant colored building, it was sort of hard to miss.

Well, at least you didn’t have to worry about finding a job anymore. The place was gigantic. There had to be over a hundred little cubical-sized shops under one roof. It would be impossible not to find somewhere to make a little cash while you were here. Hell, you were surprised there were enough people in Hawkins to keep this place up and running, some place had to be understaffed.

Unfortunately, to your and Dustin’s surprise, most of the more cookie-cutter jobs had already been swiped up by high schoolers on summer vacation. Damn! Everything from Macy's sales associate to McDonald's burger flipper had been taken weeks ago. You must have checked half of the shops in that stupid mall and all of those “Help Wanted” signs that your aunt had told you had already been pulled from the windows.

“How is this even possible?” Dustin huffed in disbelief as you two entered the food court, looking less than enthusiastic about your lack of finds. “I was barely gone for a month, and all the jobs are gone! Where the hell did all these people come from?! Do they not have anything better to do during break?”

“Like I said, Dusty, not all of us can ride around Hawkins all summer without needing some cash. These teens were probably cut off from their parent's bank accounts so they would get out and ‘learn the ways of the real world.’ Can’t blame them for trying to make an extra few bucks during the summer.” You tried to soothe, but you also felt the sting of the impending question. What if you couldn’t find a job this summer? You couldn't just phone up your parents begging for a little pocket change. They were states away! Asking your aunt for some money was also out of the question because you didn’t want to overstep your welcome, especially since this was your first visit back in a while.

With a sigh, you pat Dustin's head through his trucker hat and spoke again. “I’m sure I’ll find something, but right now I’m starving, and if I'm not mistaken I owe a certain someone some ice cream. How bout it, kid? Know any good places?” And with that, Dustin lit up again.

“Oh my god! I’m such an idiot! How could I have forgotten?!” Dustin suddenly exclaimed, looking at you with wide eyes before shooting off through the crowd.

“Wh- Dustin! Wait up!” You tried calling after him, but it was too late. That kid was on a mission, and he was dragging you along with him. You bobbed and weaved and even had to duck at one point as you made your way through the crowd of hungry food court patrons. Some grumbled as you frantically darted passed them, but you were determined to keep up with that goofy kid, so you did what you had to do until he came to a screeching halt in front of a sailor-themed parlor.

“Dude, what the hell! The ice cream isn’t going anywhere.” You wheezed, gesturing toward the brightly colored “Scoops Ahoy” sign glowing down at you from above. Still, Dustin seemed way too proud of himself at the moment to care about your complaints.

“It’s not about the ice cream,” He scoffed, rolling his eyes like you just weren't getting something that was glaringly obvious to everyone else. Little shit. “Don’t you see? This is the answer to all of your problems!” Yeah… you still had no idea what he was talking about.

Suddenly an almost obnoxiously loud voice called out from inside the nautical-themed creamery. “Henderson?” You turned to see a man in a ridiculous-looking sailor's uniform looking at both you and your cousin in confusion.

“What?” You both answered, which only served to confuse the poor guy even more as he finished serving the last customer at the counter. He was tall, but his hair was even taller, and he was practically oozing confidence despite the absurd uniform he was sporting. Coincidentally, he also looked to be around your age, so how did he know your little cousin?

“What gives, man? I thought you said you were with the geek squad today.” The sailor questioned as Dustin pulled you into the ice cream parlor and completely ignored the guy's questions like he so often did to you.

“Is Scoops Ahoy hiring?” Dustin prodded bluntly, which caused the older teen to shake his head from the near whiplash he got from the change of subject. You took his momentary stunned silence to slip in a question to your younger cousin.

“Who’s the hair?” You tried to whisper, but apparently, you didn't keep your voice low enough because the sailor began to introduce himself.

“Steve Harrington, and you are?” He started, but Dustin cut him off again.

“She’s my cousin,” he stated before repeating his earlier question. “Is Scoops hiring? C’mon Steve this is important!”

The sailor’s - Steve’s - eyes landed back on Dustin as he pursed his lips for a moment. “Sorry man, between me and Robin we pretty much got the place handled” He finally answered, genuinely sounding a bit mournful as his eyes found yours again. “But, if you're looking for somewhere to work in the mall, I’m pretty sure I still saw some help wanted signs hanging up in a music store across from us when I walked in this morning. I think it's called Tape World? Big blue neon sign, you can’t miss it.”

Before you could thank the guy Dustin was tugging you towards the exit again. Little man really was on a mission.

“Dustin- Chill out!” You laughed, as you tried not to trip over yourself, but your legs still fumbled around uselessly. “Thanks, Steve! It was nice meeting you!” You managed to call out before Dustin had completely pulled you out of the Scoops Ahoy and back into the food court, but he didn’t stop there. No, he continued to drag your ass passed the many eating patrons and over to the entertainment section of the mall. It didn’t take too much longer after that to find that big blue sign Steve had described, and sure enough, there was still a help wanted sign hanging crooked in the window.

For a moment, you two just stopped and stared at it in awe. Could this be it? The answer to your metaphorical prayers? It didn’t look too busy at the moment, which was a bit of a surprise considering that the mall was packed. Maybe it was a shitty music store? Well, there was only one way to find out.

You took a moment to smooth out your shirt from all the running you had just done before casting a look down to Dustin. You were surprised to find him already looking up at you, but you didn’t let it shake you too much. Instead, you stepped towards the invitingly opened doors.

“You coming, or what?” You questioned to break the tension ghosting across your shoulders, and after a breath, Dustin followed suit. The both of you walked in and took a moment to take in the shop.

There were cassettes and records practically covering every wall. Hell- practically every surface. Everything from Bon Jovi to Black Sabbath. There was even a little section in the back with guitars, bases, and amps for sale, and was that Metallica playing quietly through the speakers overhead? A surprising choice, but certainly not an unwelcome one. Well, at least to you it wasn’t, but you knew at least half the families in Hawkins probably thought that that kind of music was for satan worshipers or something. Was that why there was barely anyone in here?

You were just about to head up to the front counter, but as you took your first step towards it, you caught a blur of hair and black leather zooming past out of the corner of your eye. Unfortunately, your paths intersected, and you crashed right into it. A decent stack of tapes went flying, along with your resume as you collided.

“Oh, shit. I just reorganized those,” The man groaned, already starting to bend down to retrieve the poor cassettes. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I am so sorry.” You apologized, face heating up as you kneeled down and started to frantically gather up the tapes. “Here, let me help.”

Duran Duran.

The Cure.

Tears for Fears.

And…

“Hey, this is the album that's playing, right? Ride the Lightning?” You asked as you handed the guy back a blue-colored cassette case labeled Metallica.

For a moment, he just stared at you. Not in that ‘Oh yeah? name three of their songs!’ type of way, but more like he was genuinely, and maybe even pleasantly, surprised. Nevertheless, being put under such an intense gaze was beginning to make you feel a bit nervous. So, you did what any sane person would do and laughed like an idiot.

“What? Is this not For Whom the Bell Tolls or something? You’re looking at me like I got three heads.” You tried to break the tension with some humor which actually seemed to work because he finally took the tape and cleared his throat.

“No, yeah. Sorry, yeah. That’s what's playing. I just,” He shook his head and looked down to pick up the last of the cassettes before continuing, “you don’t look like you would be into this kind of stuff. You just surprised me.”

You scoffed, not in a harsh way, but almost teasingly.

“What? The black riding boots aren’t enough to give me away?” You joked, and to your delight, the long-haired guy actually joined you for a huffed laugh.

It was at that point he reached for the small stack of papers that had flown out of your hands during the collision.

“Resumes?” He prompted, setting the newly reorganized cassettes safely back onto the glass counter before offering a ring-covered hand to help you up. You took it.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm in town for the summer and I basically blew all my money just to get here so… resumes.” You looked down awkwardly at your shoes as you explained. Slowly, he handed you back all but one of the stack. His eyes scanned quickly over the document. So quickly, in fact, that there was no possible way he could have caught more than just your name and number.

Then finally, after what seemed like an eternity,

“You’re hired. Can you start tomorrow?” He asked, folding up your resume and shoving it into the back pocket of his ripped jeans.

What?

“What? Just like that? No interview?” You weren’t one for chancing your luck but this just seem way too easy after all you had just gone through. There had to be some sort of catch, right?

“Nope! I happen to be a fantastic judge of character, and I am judging your character to be perfect for this job.” He answered so confidently, that you almost believed him. “And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m the only one working in here, and I am so sick of being around so many people with absolutely no taste.” He finally fessed up after a short pause, pulling a soft laugh from your chest.

“So what do you say? Can you start tomorrow?” The poor guy was practically begging at this point, and you really needed the money so…

“What time?” You answered with a grin, looking back up just in time to catch him fist pump the air and jump up onto the counter, swinging his legs across so that he was on the other side.

He ducked below, and for a second you lost sight of him completely. Then, almost like a groundhog, he popped back into view with a vibrant blue vest with Tape World embroidered on the breast and a stack of new employee forms.

“We open at ten tomorrow, but if you come in at nine-thirty, I’ll show you how to work the register.” He announced, sliding the items across the counter before leaning forward, resting his forearms against the glass display. “Oh,” His eyes closed as if something important had just caught up with him, “I also got a deal with the guys down at Hawkins’ Heroes so we can get some free breakfast too if you want.”

“That sounds great! I guess I’ll catch you tomorrow then…uh…” Your eyes darted across his uniform, searching for a name tag, but no joy. Fortunately, he must have caught your struggle because he stood back up straight and extended his arms out for an exaggerated bow.

“Edward Munson, at your service.” He introduced himself in a booming voice, that actually seemed to spook a couple of patrons towards the back of the store. “But! You can just call me Eddie.” He continued in a much more reasonable tone, dropping his hands back down to his sides with an almost goofy lopsided grin.

Who even was this guy? You asked yourself fondly, smiling back at him.

“Well then, Eddie, it's been a pleasure, but I’ve gotta feed this guy and get him home before his mom sends out a search party.” You threw a thumb back at Dustin who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole exchange. “Nine thirty, right?”

“Nine thirty,” Eddie confirmed, picking up the tapes he had dropped a few minutes ago to restock the shelves.

And with that, you gave one last wave before walking out of that little music store you were sure would leave a big impact on your summer vacation. Hopefully, it would be a good one.

As you and Dustin once again made your way back toward the food court, you couldn’t help but notice that he was giving you a look. At first, you tried to ignore it, but as you two got closer and closer, his smug look seemed to bore itself into the side of your head until you finally conceded.

“What?”

“Huh? Oh, Nothing.” Dustin answered nonchalantly, finally looking away. He was trying to seem aloof, but you knew he was just being a little shit.

“C’mon, kid. Spit it out.” You tried, but he seemed content keeping up his little act for a little while longer. Eventually, after another long moment of silence, he couldn't contain himself and broke.

“I was just thinking about Suzie. That’s all.” He answered smugly and given his tone, that definitely wasn't all.

“Suzie?” You prompted, raising an eyebrow at your little cousin.

“Suzie.” The kid repeated but continued to elaborate when you shot him a questing look. “My totally beautiful and genius girlfriend from Camp Know Where.”

“Okay. Sure. What about her?” You were really failing to see how his definitely real and totally not made-up girlfriend was relevant to the situation.

“Well, I was thinking about the way she looked at me after I finished building Cerebro.” After another long pause, Dustin was starting to get impatient with you. “She looked at me like that guy from the music store looked at you just now!” He groaned at you as if what he was saying was painfully obvious.

“Dustin, what are you talking about?” You scoffed, but his stupid smirk didn’t budge. “He was probably just thrown off because some random girl ran into him and made him drop a bunch of shit. Stop- Quit smiling at me like that!” You could feel your face start to heat up again, but you couldn't tell if it was because you were embarrassed or annoyed.

“Uh-huh. Sure. That was definitely the only reason.” It was at that point that you gave him a light shove on the shoulder. Not enough to hurt or push him down, but apparently enough to send him spiraling into a fit of laughter.

“You are such a cocky little shit, you know that?” You snorted as pulled him back upright and under your arm. “Now shut up and pick something to eat so we can go home.”

————

(This work & all future chapters have been moved to my new blog! @ace-writes-stuff)

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things writing #stranger things headcannons #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #fix it fic #sub!eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #please dont roast me lol #my writing #multichapter

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saninthebuilding · 2 years

Text

sheathed swords and stupid faces

summary: a coronation turning into a bloodbath could be the worst thing to happen, right? or so you would think. because apparently, dealing with a certain dark haired prince proves to be more challenging than getting out alive. especially when there are feelings involved.

(inspired by the coronation scene in the cruel prince)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: potential spoilers for the cruel prince, mentions of injury & blood, swearing, cardan being a hot asshole, bad writing??

a/n: i recently finished reading the cruel prince series and have been completely obsessed with it istg. like- CARDAN IS SO FINE HELLO?????????? this the first time i’m actually posting a fic that i’ve been thinking about, so feedback is greatly appreciated! :D

hope you enjoy it <3

crouched under the table, i shift on my knees. “damn this stupid dress” i scowl, irritated as i struggle to move comfortably. inching forward slightly, i take a peek through the tablecloth, and am met with a rush of movement. dancing and drinking and fighting. it’s a mess.

in short, the coronation for the future king of faerie did not go as planned. not at all.

within a matter of seconds, the entire royal family had been slaughtered. and it was madoc’s fault. my father. i didn’t really acknowledge those words before, but believing them now was impossible. he was responsible for the deaths of all of them. rhyia. caelia. dain.

my parents.

a wave of emotion threatened to creep up, but i shoved it down. i had known this. i had known that madoc was nothing but a murderer. but i let myself think otherwise. i convinced myself that he could change. he could become a stand-in for the parental figures we had lost. i let myself hope.

and that hope would be the death of me.

his knights had managed to get jude, taryn and the rest of my family out, but they hadn’t got me. i was glad they didn’t have to witness the events that went down after their exit. but for some reason, i was glad i wasn’t led out.

if only because now i knew madoc was nothing but a cold blooded killer.

a thud somewhere nearby jolted me out of my thoughts. shaking my head to clear my mind, i shuffle to the other side of the table to get a view of my surroundings. as i look around through a slit in the cloth, i see the staircase leading into the castle.

“gotcha,” i grin to myself.

as i start to formulate a plan, i hear footsteps approaching the table. “ofcourse luck isn’t on my side” i think as my fingers brush the dagger in my sleeve. i watch the polished shoes come to a stop directly in front of me, and i clench my jaw, pulling my blade out. there’s a slight pause, and then suddenly the cloth moves.

and i am face to face with none other than cardan. the last one standing of the greenbriar line.

he also happens to be the only one who can officially crown balekin.

i meet his eyes- black and alive. a sudden surge of anger rushes through me at how he’s mixing with his would-be murders should an oppurtunity arise. it only proves what little regard he has for his own life. there’s a goblet in his hand, and from the slight laziness in his movements, he seems to be drunk. yes, when you’re about to die, the only solution is to drink yourself till you pass out. however, it doesn’t stop him from looking effortlessly handsome in his onyx suit.

damn him and his stupidly perfect face.

cardan stares at me for a second, almost confused, before speaking. “it’s not safe here,” he says, “you’re mortal.” “no shit” i reply, mildly amused at his attempt to show concern for my well-being. “you need to leave.” he reaches down to grab my arm, but i yank him towards me before he can get a grip.

“hey!” he snaps, wincing as he lands hard on his knees. rolling my eyes, i ignore the slight regret i feel as i pull him under the table. the tablecloth falls back into place.

“are you trying to die?!” i hiss angrily. “they’re looking for you all over and you’re waltzing between them like your head isn’t up for grabs?” he gives me an odd look, but doesn’t pull his arm out of my hold. however, he snaps out of his daze and yanks his arm away from me.

“since when did you care? your father was more than happy to murder the rest of my family, what’s stopping you from finishing the job?” he sneers, his usual glare seeping through his wine-glazed eyes. i turn on him, my own features hardening- “he’s not my father.”

cardan eyes the dagger in my hand, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing. “is that seriously what concerns you right now?” then he scoffs, as if coming to a realization, “why should i expect anything else? mortals and their insignificant priorities.” irritation rising, i shift my grip on my blade. “you wanna see what else this mortal’s got in store?”

ignoring me, he looks through the tablecloth to avoid meeting my gaze. “whatever. do you have a plan or are we going to keep playing in the dirt?” i make a face at the back of his head, but i slide my dagger back into my sleeve before shuffling over to him. peering through the crack, i point at the stairs. “if we can get through there, i can get us somewhere.”

i feel him come closer and look over my shoulder, his breath hot near my ear. i feel my heart speed up, but i ignore the shrinking distance between his body and mine as we study madoc’s guards. “i don’t know why i’m trusting you,” cardan mutters under his breath. i’m about to counter him, but he speaks. “fine, let’s go.” i stared at him, stunned. “what do you mean, let’s go?” i ask, mimicking him, “we can’t just walk out there as though we own the place.”

his dark eyes meet mine, black and glittering. “lucky for you, i do.”

he pushes his way out from under the table, and i huff, following him. his life is in danger and he still has the balls to act cocky.

and someone kill me for finding it attractive.

we weave our way through the crowd, and i manage to snag a mask off the appetizer table before an elf can put it back on after eating her tart. slipping it on, i make my way back to cardan’s side and he glances at me as we make our way up the steps. from his face, i can tell he has no clue how i got the mask. i let myself revel in the achievement of surprising him.

as we approach the main doors, one of the guards steps forward. i recognize him as one of the men who madoc keeps at his side. “where do you think you two are going?” i opened my mouth to answer, but cardan is faster. “king balekin has been searching for prince cardan, and he is getting a response,” he says. it takes all my self-control not to turn to him.

what the hell is he doing?

“is he now?” the guard narrows his eyes, and i can see the other one let his hand fall toward the hilt of his sword. i let mine dangle freely by my own, but otherwise remain calm. “i received this ring to prove a connection to the royal family” he says, and from the corner of my eye i see a ring in his palm.

his ring.

how the hell did he get it off without getting caught?

immediately compliant, the guard steps out of the way, and we make it through the doors without further confrontation. i lead cardan down a hall to the passage the roach had shown me. i’m about to push the trigger, but i hear thuds from behind the wall. coming in our direction.

my eyes go wide, and i turn toward cardan. alarmed, he takes a step away, and ends up backing into a door. “y/n?” he asks warily, hands coming up halfway as though he expected me to hit him. “get inside,” i breathe as i push him. the door opens, and he stumbles backwards. i rush inside, shutting the door and locking it in time to hear bricks sliding, followed by footsteps receding. blood pounding in my ears, i lean against the door as i exhale deeply.

looking up, i see cardan leaning against a desk stationed by the back of the room. he’s watching me, an unreadable expression covering his face. i meet his eyes, and he raises his eyebrows. “what’s up with you?” he asks, but surprisingly there’s no attitude in his voice. i shake my head, “nothing.” silence fills the air.

he’s the last greenbriar left to crown balekin.

he wouldn’t do it.

hope will be the death of me.

hand him over to balekin in exchange for power.

i am no murderer.

my stomach lurches as the image of cardan kneeling comes back to me. his bare shoulders tense as balekin pressed his nails into the pale skin of his nape. him gripping the sword as though he would run the human servant through. the belt coming down hard on his back, his jaw clenching down. the slap of leather against skin-

“hey.”

cardan.

i shake my head, coming back to where i am and what is going on. “sorry?” i push off the door, only to stop myself from crashing into cardan’s chest. i look up to see him standing in front of me, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dress pants. “i said…” he leans down, putting his face in front of mine, “what’s got you so shaken?” my brows come together, proving my confusion, and he drops his gaze down to my hands which have formed fists. i unclench my fingers, and see my nails have pressed half-moons into my palms.

i run a hand over my face, feeling exhausted. “why do you hate me?” i find myself asking out of nowhere. he seems surprised too, leaning back to take me in fully. but i need to understand how he sees me before i figure out what to do.

can i trust him?

“is this really the time to be asking this?” he asks, but i fix him with a stare. within a split second, i pull my sword from my hip and hold it out in front of me, pointing it at his chest. “it’s a simple question.”

cardan instantly stops playing around, his jaw tense, “you gonna kill me if i don’t answer?” my chest tightens at his words, and the fact that he believes i will actually harm him shows me that i’m no different from madoc. “no” i snap, “just answer me.” my arm doesn’t waver, still extending the sword, and cardan glances at it once more before opening his mouth.

“i hate you,” he says finally. “because you are a mortal yet madoc treats you with respect, while my father disregards me even though i am a prince of faerie. i hate you because you are the older sibling to jude, taryn and oak that i never had- caring for them and treating them with respect regardless of how they treat you. i hate you because you don’t get beat by your older sibling on a day-to-day basis, and because balekin never failed to degrade me after your performance at the feast.”

i stare at him, mildly surprised at balekin even knowing that i exist. “there has to be something else.” “excuse me?” cardan seems a bit worried now, seeing me raise nightfell higher, and gambles by taking a step back. i don’t move.

“that’s ridiculous. you can’t just hate me because of all that. you don’t live with the murderer of your parents, both anger and fear ruling every aspect of your life. you don’t have to deal with the fact that there is nothing you can do to prove yourself worthy to live among those around you, because being mortal is a sin on these lands. a sin that instantly overlooks your value.”

something in cardan’s eyes changes, but his lips curl into a familiar sneer. “fear? anger? i’m bargaining for my life here, and you say i don’t know anything about fear? ”i take a step forward, the sword still a threat, “just answer me!”

cardan leans back into the desk, and tilts his head down to avoid my gaze. “most of all, i hate you because i think of you more often than i should. and i can’t stop.”

i stare at him, frozen in place. no way. “don’t mess with me” i say, but it comes out as a whisper. not about this. but he remains still, even as i walk up to him, sheathing my blade.

he stays silent, and i realize that his reluctance isn’t because he’s thinking himself superior. it’s because he doesn’t want to face me. my heart speeds up- he’s serious.

“do you really?” i raise an eyebrow, taking another step forward. “y/n…” cardan’s watching me, hesitant yet seeming bolder than usual. i force him into the desk behind him, my hands coming down on either side of his hips, trapping him in. i lean in, my lips close but not enough to touch his.

if i hadn’t been right up in his face, i wouldn’t have caught how his breath hitches at the lack of distance between us. how he swallows hard, seeming to hold himself back. how his face is a mix of panic and longing.

“i guess it’s true” i breathe, and he shivers at the heat of my words against his lips, “faeries can’t lie.” i bring my hand up to rest on the column of his throat, his skin hot against my palm. his eyes flash with alarm, probably thinking i’m going to choke him.

however, i shift my grip to his nape and press his lips to mine.

for a boy nicknamed “the cruel prince,” his lips are surprisingly soft, which makes me wonder how such harsh words could slip through them with such ease. i can feel how tense cardan is under my touch, and his hand on my arm is slow. he’s holding himself back.

however, it doesn’t last long.

he pulls away, and i open my eyes to see him staring at me, his gaze intense. “wha-” i don’t even get to ask him. “fuck it” he whispers, and suddenly spins us so that i’m pressed against the desk. his hands come up on either side of my face and he kisses me hard. my hands wrap around his neck, drawing him against me. it’s messy and rushed, but in this moment i know better than to doubt him.

it’s real.

we break apart, chests heaving, and his hands grip the desk from around me. i stare at cardan, momentarily speechless, “is that what you thought about?” his eyes meet mine, the emotion swirling through them wild and unchained. “i’ve thought about way more than that” he grins, and i’m hit by how young he looks when he smiles. how charming.

i roll my eyes, “shut up. i can still attack you.” the threat comes out half-hearted. he raises an eyebrow, “you expect me to believe you after you kissed me like that? please.” i feel my ears burn red, and i shove him in the chest, but he just laughs. my heart speeds up at the sound, and a smile makes its way onto my lips.

damn him and his stupidly perfect face.

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gothcsz · 1 month

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𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter II.

gif credit / @azertyrobaz

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Javier is slowly beginning to realize that monotony isn't as bad as he initially thought…

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: Mutual pining, mentions of masturbation, they really wanna fuck each other, that good slowburn angst, lots of smoking, southern gothic vibes are strong with this one, if you love worldbuilding then this is the fic for you, mentions of a religion, mentions of sex workers, dbf!Javier Peña because I have no self control.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Lexi, my beloved, who has been a BIG help in helping me figure out this crazy ass story. Love you bestie, I don't know where I'd be without you < 3 I am… so obsessed with these two and the little universe they live in… *muffled screaming* I hope everyone reading so far is having a good time because I know I am! I've got a lot in store for this pairing, and if you're a fan of the horror/thriller aspect of this plot there's a lot comin' your way ;) Anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback on this blog < 3

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

It’s an extraordinarily warm day, which isn’t uncommon for the area however it’s the type of warm that reminds her that summer is just around the corner.

It’s Paloma’s favorite season. While the Seminary heat was unforgiving as all hell; she loves the way the sun feels against her skin, the thin layer of sweat that clings to her gives her the perfect glow and nothing beats cooling down by the creek. The town is also much more lively during the season, too, since tourists heading west often take a rest stop in Seminary.

It’s how she gathers most of her summer weekend crowd. People who do not expect this drive through town to be as charming as it is. While small, it has a community actively keeping it thriving. The businesses that line the streets of their downtown all owned by families who have been here for decades. A lot of love has been poured into their settlement, and while most of the time Paloma feels suffocated by the repetitiveness of her days, she’ll always have a soft spot in her heart for her hometown.

She’s become the performer that she is by staying here. Her shows at The Whiskey Fox have been the perfect training grounds for her to get a comfortable grasp on her stage presence, which aside from singing, is the most important thing about being a musician. An aspiration that she keeps to herself, mostly, just telling those who ask that she’s doing this ‘singing thing’ as a hobby. That her ‘real job’ would be going full time at the library.

That is her plan, the future she damns herself with. As quick-witted and rambunctious as Paloma can be; she’s still not valiant enough to take control of her own life.

Instead, she’s at the beck and call of her father’s.

It is much easier this way, she justifies it to herself like that all the time. If she goes out into the world, pursues her want to be a musician; there’s a chance that she fails and has to return home with her tail tucked between her legs like a shameful dog. At least staying here in Seminary provides her with a stability to keep her content for the rest of her life.

But would she really be content? Would she regret not trying and potentially not even failing?

Paloma bikes the familiar path from her house down into town, woven bag with her belongings in the basket that’s zip tied to the front of the bicycle she’s had since she was in high school. There’s a small grocery list and an even smaller to-do list accompanying her things; a brown paper bag with her father’s lunch also tossed in there.

When Darla, her 1970 Buick Electra , officially died on her; she hated having to bike everywhere. Her father was able to take her places whenever he could, but most of the time it was just Paloma and her bike against the world.

The sheriff even made the suggestion of sending one of the deputies to escort her wherever she pleased, but Paloma despised the idea of having an officer always following her around. So after a few awkward car rides to and from town; she decided it’d be more convenient for her to bike it until further notice. The only time she requests an escort is after a closing shift at the library or a show at the bar.

The most peaceful part of the trek is riding over the abandoned railroad tracks near the old train station. Something about the scenery; being surrounded by the lush forest with nothing but her and her thoughts for miles and miles is very comforting to Paloma, so whenever she arrives at this little landmark of hers, she makes a point to stop and soak it all in.

On days like this, where she doesn’t have much to do; she stays for a while.

Paloma approaches the familiar tracks, stopping entirely and propping her bicycle against a nearby tree. She pops a Linda Ronstadt CD into her portable player, the headphones slipping over her ears as she approaches the tracks. The sound of the gravel crunching beneath her boots is muffled out by the soft country tunes that begin to play. Paloma sits right on the track, a little unorthodox but she doesn’t care. Using her bag as a makeshift pillow, she lays flat and looks up at the sky until her eyes shut close; sighing wistfully as she slips away into another world entirely.

She has been struggling to finish any of her music lately, inspiration lackluster to the point where she’s had to revert to covering songs instead of performing original material at The Whiskey Fox . It is frustrating, to say the least, especially when she knows she is more than capable of writing a good song.

There just hasn’t been much happening that warrants a spark in her passion. No romantic love to pour her heart over, no life-altering event to process with instruments and lyrics. Nothing exciting.

She was in a rut…

That was until a few days ago.

Mind seemingly wanders over to the handsome man that had been in her family home.

Those dark brown, intense eyes that had her flustered any time they made eye contact, the strong cut of his jaw and how it flexed when he spoke, lips that looked so inviting underneath the mustache that she hates she’s so attracted to.

This is the first time any man has left such an impression on Paloma. She giggles softly to herself, remembering how she was harping on her own father for bringing out the fancy scotch in order to impress Javier.

“ Man must’ve left quite an impression for ya to be bustin’ out the crown jewel. ”

Now she understands why. Aside from being quite the eye candy–– she found herself completely engaged in any conversation he partook in. While he was not a man of many words, the few that he did have had her feeling like a freshman schoolgirl crushing on a senior athlete.

She is particularly interested in the fact that he had lived in Colombia for a better part of however many years; curiosity bubbling anytime he mentioned anything about his time there. She is envious that he has been able to experience a country filled with such culture and ecological beauty, even though she understands that the nature of his job probably didn’t entail to him sightseeing much.

That’s another thing; he was very vague about what his role was down there. All Paloma knows is that he was a DEA agent, responsible for cornering one of the most notorious drug traffickers to exist in the modern world. One thing led to another and now he’s back in the United States as a Deputy Sheriff for a small town in the middle of fuck-knows-where Texas.

It intrigued her to know his backstory and how that led him here. What all he’d done and witnessed, even if it wasn’t any of her business.

She finds it fascinating and it adds a layer of mystique to his persona.

Then her thoughts begin to turn into something more… sinful as she imagines the way his mouth wrapped around the colored end of the cigarette, his fingers flexing around the drinking glass before downing its contents in one swift movement, tongue peering out to lick at his lips. Fuck , her eyes flutter open and she squints slightly as the sun beams down on her. Her skin is warm, just how she likes it, buzzing with excitement at the image of the older man nuzzled in between her thighs, teasing her until she was at his mercy.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, fingers slowly trailing down her torso then drumming along the exposed skin of her lower stomach. The thought of moving her digits beneath the fabric of her panties crosses her mind for a split second before she remembers where she is. Not that she would be interrupted at this time of day but she has to have some shame, right? It’s already bad enough that she’s fantasizing about him, no need to fuel that fire by touching herself in plain daylight.

Paloma sits up, removing the headphones from over her ears and twisting her body to reach into her bag as she pulls out her notebook and pencil, a sudden stroke of inspiration striking her.

–––––––––––––––––––

Javier lazily leans back against the leather chair he’s sat in, typical cigarette dangling from his lips as he scans the report in front of him, brows pulled in to a frown as he half ass reads it. He’s only been in Seminary for a week and it hadn’t taken him long to fall into routine.

He gets up early to exercise, finding the time in his day to be able to do that again, eats what he considers a ‘healthy’ breakfast (it’s just toast and eggs… maybe some fruit if he’s really feeling it) then heads to the sheriff’s department. The day drags by until he’s at home again. He spends the evenings glued to his couch, takeout remnants on the table, nursing a beer and watching reruns until he goes to bed.

That is the part he dreads the most. The night time. Javi has always had trouble sleeping, but his time in Colombia only made the insomnia worse. He’ll stare at the ceiling, replaying all his fuck ups over and over until day breaks and soft sunlight seeps into his room.

On the nights where he does manage to fall asleep, it’s restless and doesn’t last very long as he jerks awake from whichever nightmare decides to plague him that night. He has a few that revisit him often, involving Helena and how things ended with her. Others about Carillo and his untimely death.

It is quite a vicious cycle that he has not been able to break himself free from. It was much more easier to get ahold of it back in Colombia where he could go pay for a distraction at a brothel or bury himself in the demanding job.

Here, there isn’t a damn thing he can bury himself in.

Well, there’s one person he’d love to find a distraction in but fucking the sheriff’s daughter just to get some sleep is not the best move for him to make considering he’s trying to be a better person nowadays.

There is barely anything happening at the station. The few deputies employed are constantly out on patrol, which Javi had recently revamped by giving new routes for them to follow. A task he’d conjured out of pure boredom yet left Sheriff Leighton impressed by his proactiveness.

Furthermore, the department is left partially empty with just himself, Romeo and Lorraine holding down the fort.

With no further updates in the ongoing homicide cases; there isn’t much to do. He isn't in the mood to go make small talk with the locals, and he’s already driven and familiarized himself with most of the roads within town limits, so he’s stuck in this building for the time being.

The sheriff had reiterated many times not to expect the same hustling and bustling he experienced back in Bogotá or Medellín. A fact that he knew when coming in, but experiencing it is just so damn grueling.

Instead of going home and bullshitting there, Javier decides to be responsible and help Lorraine reorganize their filing system. It is outdated to all hell and messier than anything he and Murphy could have ever conjured up at the embassy, but in attempts to be a more… responsible person, he tells the front desk clerk to not worry about a thing and that he’d handle it all himself.

He might have gone in over his head, but they’re just files. The tedious task something he is very familiar with. Javi had done his fair share of mindless tasks during his DEA days.

He’s at his desk, an unused one he plucked from the center of the room and moved over into a corner that gave him just a pinch of privacy. Romeo apologized about the lack of space for a private office, but Javi didn’t mind it. Being in an office is stifling; and he enjoys, for the most part, being out in the open.

Also, Lorraine is great company. Very unfortunate that she shares the name with his ex-fiancée.

Javier sets the sheet of paper he’s reread a dozen times down, ashing his cigarette and scratching at his nose with his thumb when he hears the sound of their front door opening.

His eyes lazily trail over to the entrance and an immediate smirk tugs at his lips, crease between his brows disappearing.

Paloma Leighton.

Oh, how he’s been thinking about her since that night he had dinner over at their house. How wrong it is of him to be pining after a woman like her.

It is not that difficult to capture Javier’s attention, he is very self aware in that regard. As long as you were interested; you were pretty much on his radar.

Javier loves women. He loves the way they look, the way they smell. Their soft moans and pants in response to his coaxing, how their nails feel digging into the soft skin of his shoulders as they come down from an intense orgasm.

Can anyone blame him for being so attracted to them all the time? Women are a godsend.

He watches her carefully as she saunters over to his desk that’s on the opposite side to where her father’s office is.

“ Now, Miss Leighton–– to what do I owe this pleasure, hermosa ? ” He asks, taking another drag of his cigarette as he keeps his position leaned back in his chair.

With an air of curiosity, he casts a lingering gaze over her form, his lips moistening involuntarily as he drinks in her presence.

She’s wearing cutoff jean shorts that hug her in all the right places and a halter top with an exposed back. She isn’t wearing a bra so her stiff nipples are prominent against the fabric. The sight gets him stirring below his belt, and he has to keep smoking in order to keep his antsy hands off of her.

“ Take a picture, it’ll last longer. ” She throws the typical line at him with a smirk.

“ I forgot my camera at home. Mind comin’ back to mine, cariño ? I’ll make sure to take the prettiest pictures. ” He ashes the cigarette, flirtatious as ever despite telling himself he was not going to go down this route.

But there’s nothing wrong with a little flirting, right? Especially not when she’s playing into it.

“ Clever, charming and cocky. I’m starting to sense a pattern here, cowboy. ”

“ And what would that pattern be? ”

“ I’m still figuring that out, unfortunately. ” There’s a brief pause, “ Those things’ll kill you. ” Paloma changes the subject entirely, nodding her head towards his nicotine stick.

“ I’m going to die eventually. ” Javier rebuttals and she just hums, honey colored eyes watching as he takes another long drag.

Javi is thankful that Lorraine had left early today. He's certain that this little conversation of there’s would have played out differently had there been a third person in the room.

Maybe it wouldn’t have happened at all and he would have been stuck fantasizing about her like a perverted fool.

“ S’that why you’re here? To criticize me smoking? ” His toned biceps flex as he brings his hands behind his neck, fingers interlocking and cigarette hanging from in between his lips.

“ No, just stopped by to drop off daddy’s lunch before I ran some errands. That man wouldn’t eat if it weren’t for me. ” Now it’s her turn to do the ogling, her gaze traveling from the cigarette to his arms, eyes sparkling down at him.

“ Sheriff isn’t in right now. ” He informs her but something tells him she already knew this. Her brows raise at the news and she shrugs.

“ ‘Course he ain’t. Probably already went down to Carl’s for lunch. I keep tellin’ him his arteries are gonna get all clogged up if all he eats is greasy burgers and beer. ” Javier can sense a hint of irritation in her voice.

“ So just let him. He’s a grown man, M’sure he doesn’t need nor want his daughter looking out for him every second of the day. ” He interjects, watching her carefully as she rolls her eyes.

Her hair is in two neat braids, bangs framing her beautiful face leaving the entirety of her back exposed to him. A few droplets of sweat slowly roll down her spine due to the weather and he imagines himself licking them right up; preferably while he has her bent over his desk.

“ Well if I don’t do it then who will? He’d barely last a week on his own. ” Though she is irritated, Javier catches how she genuinely seems to care for her father so with that, he decides to not meddle in their family business and instead moves on swiftly.

“ You know him better than I do. ” Leaves it at that, finishing his cigarette, “ Heard you got a show comin’ up ” And when he says "heard," what he really means is listening to everyone else rave about the sheriff's daughter's incredible talent and how he simply must attend one of her performances.

That sparkle in her eye glistens brighter at the mention of her show and she nods, “ Yup, ” pops the ‘p’, fiddling with the pens he’s stuffed into his faded DEA mug, her body turned slightly to face him. “ Every Friday and Saturday. Will we be blessed by your presence, Mr. Peña or are you going to hide out in your trailer home all weekend? ” Hearing his surname coming from her has his jaw ticking ever so slightly and he watches her eyes take notice of it.

Paloma likes it.

“ Dunno… gotta check my schedule, querida . Things tend to get crazy ‘round here. Or so I’ve heard. ” Sarcastic banter continues paired with a smug smile.

“ Well… if you do decide to find some time in that busy schedule of yours; the show starts at six both nights. ” And who was he to deny her? Especially as she bats her eyelashes at him, an unspoken way of letting him know she wants to see him there.

The front door bell dings, announcing the arrival of someone new, interrupting the comfortable pause of silence they were sharing.

That someone new is the sheriff, and Paloma immediately rises from her spot on the edge of his desk, making her way to her father. Javier straightens up, picking up the previously discarded sheet and feigning interest in it; but Romeo doesn’t seem to notice a thing. He looks deep in thought.

“ There ya are. I brought you lunch. ” Paloma calls after him but he’s already in his office. She lets out a sigh, looking over her shoulder at Javier whom she catches getting an even better view of her backside.

“ See you around, Mr. Peña . Maybe you should start carrying around that camera of yours. Y’know… to get all them pretty pictures. ” She makes a point to sway her hips as she walks away and he runs his tongue over his front teeth slowly.

This girl is going to get him into trouble.

At least he won’t be so fucking bored anymore.

–––––––––––––––––––

Paloma leaves the building twenty minutes after getting her father to agree to eat the lunch she brought and not go down the street to the local diner. He seemed pretty distant so she didn’t press him like she usually would, instead giving him a peck on the cheek before leaving his office. Her gaze wandered over to the opposite corner, hoping to find Javier sitting in his seat already watching her but he was nowhere to be found.

She felt the slight pang of disappointment in her gut at his absence but she pushed it down, a budding smile at the thought of seeing him at her show.

She doesn't even care that the man is older than her, she’s down bad for him.

Paloma swings her leg over her bicycle, kicking the kickstand inwards and riding down the street towards the farmer’s market until she’s stopped by a familiar voice calling her name.

“ Paloma! ” It’s Sloane, who’s jogging to catch up with her.

Sloane McCarthy is the only best friend that Paloma has ever had. Like, ever .

Growing up, she was a very shy child and only had your typical schoolyard friends, but not any that she would willingly swap secrets with or any of that other stuff girls usually do within their social circles.

After her mother’s death, Paloma became more of a recluse. She didn't maintain a friendship outside of school, instead all her focus and energy was put into her artistry. To her, instruments were her best friends. They would always be there to listen, to help her navigate through her grief alongside coming into her own without a mother to guide her through the trials and tribulations of girlhood.

As lonely as it sounds, it was probably for the best that Paloma chose her musical hobbies to be what got her through the hard times. It allowed her to navigate the creation process at her own pace, figure out her strengths and work on her weaknesses.

She is grateful, however, for the guidance she received from Tammy, Kristy and Lola: the sisters that owned The Whiskey Fox .

They helped fill the void left barren by her mother, Abilene, and were the ones who convinced her to start performing at their bar when she was only fourteen.

Paloma met Sloane a few months ago at the library. She had come in with two other guys whom she can barely remember now, asking her about Seminary’s selection on books about the occult. There are hardly any , she had replied, since this town is too obstinate to allow many sacrilegious books on their library shelves.

Ever since that afternoon, they had hit it off and began to hang out together more regularly. Paloma had even hooked her new friend up with a job at The Whiskey Fox as a bartender.

She stops, steadying herself as the girl hugs her from the side then rounds the bike to stand in front of her.

“ Hey Slo, whatcha up to today? ” Paloma asks, eyeing the book in her friend’s possession before meeting her gaze.

Sloane possesses a striking beauty that captivates all who behold her. Waves of rich brown hair cascade down to her collarbone, framing her face like a halo. Her button nose, perfectly proportioned, adds a charming innocence to her features, while her inviting chocolate-colored eyes shimmer with warmth and depth.

But it's the freckles that truly distinguish Sloane's visage, far more pronounced than Paloma's. They form constellations upon her round face, like tiny stars scattered across a canvas of porcelain skin. And above them, her signature touch: baby blue eyeshadow delicately applied across both eyelids, enhancing the allure of her gaze with a hint of playful elegance.

Paloma found herself being envious of Slo and comparing her beauty to that of her best friend’s; especially when she was the main one being approached whenever they went out.

Not that Paloma cared about male attention, however, she still felt that pang of rejection deep in her belly each time Slo was being hit on while she was left making small talk with the bartender or waitress, depending on where they were.

It wasn’t because she wasn’t attractive, anyone could tell you that Paloma is one of the most beautiful women in town; but more so because of who her father is. Sometimes, men don’t approach her in fear of being shot at by the sheriff. It can be very frustrating, but it does help keep the creeps away.

“ Well… ” She drags out, “ I went to the library to look for ya, but Olsen said you didn’t work today so I’ve just kinda been roamin’ town… hopin’ to run into ya before poppin’ up to your place unannounced. What are you so smiley for? ” Her bubbly and chirpy southern accent reminds Paloma of the bright smile she’s still sporting.

“ Just havin’ a good day, s’all. Why are you lookin’ for me? ” She questions, deciding not to tell Sloane about her infatuation with newly appointed Deputy Sheriff Javier Peña just yet, gaze once more flickering down to the thick book in her grasp.

“ ‘Cause, babygirl, I got the answers to all those existential questions you think up in that pretty little head of yours. ” Shows off the printed work, “ Right here. Got a sec? ” She asks but with the look Sloane gives her, Paloma knows she can’t say no.

So they situate themselves on a nearby bench, Paloma’s bicycle propped up against the backside of it. Sloane turns to her, their knees knocking against each other as she begins to explain.

“ Ya know my friend August? He wrote that poem I showed you a few weeks ago… the one that had your face as red as a ripe tomato. ” She pokes fun at her friend, pinching her thigh which Paloma swats away playfully.

“ It was more explicit than anticipated, but yes I know who you’re talkin’ about. Didn’t he come in with you that one day? In the library? ” She just barely remembers him, since he hadn’t said much; just browsed the shelves with the other guy as Slo did all the talking.

“ Sure did! Well, he’s written a few books, none of them published…. they’re more so for record keepin’. However, I told him you were… a fan of his work–– ”

“ Fan is a bit of a stretch, don’t ya think? ” She snorts, stare flickering over to Slo.

“–– So he asked me to share this with you. It’s his prized possession. ” She continues, eyes twinkling as she slides the book over to Paloma.

Paragons of the Sacrificed By Augustus Rutherford Dixon

“ Augustus ? What a name. ” Is the first thing Paloma notices, thumbing through the book and scanning some of its contents. “ This reads like a manifesto, I’m not sure I’m all that interested. ” She tells Slo, closing the item shut and attempting to give it back.

Sloane blocks her from doing so, shaking her head. “ No ma’am, you’re gonna read through it. I promise you’ll enjoy it. I know how you like to get lost in your books and music… this is right up your alley. ”

She seems almost desperate as she makes her case, so Paloma reluctantly keeps the book in her lap.

“ Right up my alley. What exactly does that mean? ”

“ You know… the adventurous fantasy stuff. He’s really into religion and history but not in a weird, bible thumpin’ way how the people ‘round here tend to be. Eye openin’ stuff… real, tangible things that make you want to pack up all your shit and get the hell outta dodge. ”

Slo doesn’t have to say much after that, it’s as if she knew exactly what words to say to get Paloma to be more open minded about reading the book. She chews on the inside of her cheek, eyes falling to her lap and she sighs, giving in.

“ Sure, why the hell not. If it’s crappy, though, and you waste my time I swear I’m gonna get it back in blood. ” She teases, nudging Sloane with her elbow.

“ Oh please, I wouldn’t be bringin’ this to ya if I didn’t think you’d be interested. ”

–––––––––––––––––––

Sloane was right. This book is right up her alley.

After getting over the initial weariness of the man’s introduction, she is fully immersed in the historical events he writes about as well as the practices of an unorthodox religion that’s been on the rise, according to him, since the birth of Christianity.

Her relationship with religion in general is pretty unadorned. Paloma is a practicing Catholic, just like the majority in Seminary, and she attends mass every Sunday with her father.

It’s enervating, in a way, but she knows just how much it means to Romeo for her to accompany him every week so she does it just to pacify him. Now whether she’s as devoted as she makes herself out to be is a completely different story.

She’s not. Paloma believes in a greater being; but not in the same manner that organized religion does.

It would quite literally break her father’s heart if he heard her say that outloud.

August is a talented writer, his words transporting her entirely while also making his message concise and informative. Paloma’s been tucked away in her room, obsessively reading the book for about three hours when the landline in her room suddenly rings and it makes her jolt out of surprise.

The antique clock on her nightstand indicates that it’s nine o’clock and she blinks away the sudden tiredness at the realization. Inserting her bookmark on the page she’s currently reading, she closes the book and reaches over to pick the receiver up and wedges it in between her ear and shoulder.

“ Paloma speaking. ”

“ Hola, hermosa . ” Javier’s voice cuts right through her and she’s instantly smitten, the book she was so engrossed in not even a minute ago now forgotten.

“ You sweet talk every girl you meet in Spanish? ” She can't help but ask, feeling butterflies in her stomach at the way he flirts with her. Between his sultry southern accent and alluring dash of Spanish; Paloma can’t decide which one she likes to hear more.

She hears him shuffling on his end of the phone, “ Why? You don’t like it, cariño ? ”

The Spanish. She definitely prefers the Spanish.

“ I do. It’s different. ” Twirls the telephone cord around her index finger, “ You call just to shower me in pet names? ”

He chuckles, the deepness of it having her bite down on her lower lip.

“ No, querida , was hoping I could speak to your father. ” This makes her frown slightly, but also what other reason would he have to call their house at this time of night?

Call for her ? Talk her through an orgasm through the phone, telling her to imagine his fingers instead of hers and whispering those goddamn pet names until she’s panting; wailing out for him? Or even better: offer to come by to get her out of the dry spell she’s been under before her father made it back home?

Both so appealing. Both so ridiculously out of this world.

She realizes she’s been quiet longer than intended, so she snaps out of her sudden wet daydream, speaking up.

“ He’s out with some friends from the bar. Don’t anticipate him comin’ back home till way later so you’re just goin’ to have to catch him at his office tomorrow, Mr. Peña . ” She had taken notice of the way he was so bothered by her calling him by his last name earlier that she does it again, just to fuck with him.

“ You make me feel so old callin’ me that. ” He scoffs and her smile doesn’t budge.

“ Well aren’t you? ” Fuels the teasing, wondering how far she could push it before the fire she’s been harboring burns her.

“ You really want to play this game, corazón ? ”

“ Maybe… ”

There’s a swift pause, all that’s heard is both of their breaths on either side of the line. Paloma braces herself for whatever racy event decides unfold but he breaks the silence first.

“ Just be a sweetheart and tell your dad I called. Have a good night, nena . ” He doesn't even give her the opportunity to give a closing remark, the dial tone ringing in her ears before she pulls the phone away and sets it back into place.

She hadn't realized how tightly her thighs had been clenched throughout that whole exchange. It’s embarrassing how her body reacts to him. Whether it just be his voice or his presence itself.

Paloma groans, standing from her bed and deciding to shower to calm herself down, August’s book being placed on her nightstand next to the landline.

–––––––––––––––––––

Javier walks in to the crowded bar much later than he intended to, stuck at the station with some chatty citizen who called to complain about her neighbors dog.

This is the life he lives now. Went from tracking down dangerous sicarios to listening to elderly women bitch about pets.

Nevertheless, he does what he’s been hired to do.

He hears the music that’s currently got the entirety of the place rumbling spilling out into the street upon arrival. The decently sized bar is filled with so many patrons, that it took him a second to recognize it. Honest to God.

Javier has definitely underestimated Seminary. It becomes clearer the longer he's here. While he does find himself complaining about the monotony most of the time, he’s slowly but surely easing into it.

He finally makes it to the bar and orders himself a whiskey, neat. It’s been his go to order for as long as he’s been drinking.

Dark eyes scan the crowd until they land on the stage where the first person he notices is Paloma; dressed to the nines with a bright smile. A smile he mimics as he watches her strum her guitar, the three other woman sing along with instruments of their own adhered to their bodies. Paloma isn’t currently singing, just adding in to the instrumental of a song that he doesn’t recognize. After paying for his drink, he maneuvers the crowd until he finds Romeo sitting front and center, swaying along to the music with nothing but adoration in his eyes for his daughter.

When he sees Javier approaching, his entire face lights up.

“ Javi, my man! You made it. ” The two share a friendly handshake as Javier sits down in the empty seat besides him, digging in his leather jacket for a smoke.

“ Woulda been here earlier but had a Margaret Lipton call complainin’ about how her neighbors dog won’t stay on its side of the fence. ” He grumbles, lighting the cigarette and taking a lengthy drag as the song finishes.

“ Sounds just like her. Expect a lot more’a those. Poor woman is just lonely; her husband of fifty years died not too long ago. Ever since then she’s been callin’ nonstop over petty shit. She’ll complain if a fly buzzes by, I tell ya. ” Romeo adds on, taking a sip from his drink and this gets a brief chuckle from Javier, making a mental note to limit his calls with one Margaret Lipton.

The next song begins, a very lively country tune that immediately shifts the atmosphere of the already buzzing bar. People begin to flood the dancefloor in front of the stage, but it doesn’t obstruct his view from the person that he’s here to see. He watches as she strums her instrument before approaching the microphone.

♫

“ Came into this world, Daddy's little girl, And daddy made a soldier out of me. ”

Her voice is so rich and smooth, ears perk up at the angelic singing and he takes a swig of his whiskey, eyes not leaving her for a second.

“ Daddy made me dance, And daddy held my hand, And daddy liked his whiskey with his tea. ”

She shoots a wink towards their table, and while Javier knows it’s directed to the man besides him, he can’t help but be selfish enough to think that’s it’s meant for him.

That her attention is all for him.

“ And we rode motorcycles, Blackjack, classic vinyl, Tough girl is what I had to be. He said, "Take care of your mother Watch out for your sister" And that’s when daddy looked at me... ”

The music picks up, can feel it embedding itself in his bones and he’s so entranced by watching her perform that he just barely notices when Romeo leans over to talk to him.

“ Told me she wrote this with me in mind. Swear I’ve never been more proud of her. ” Javi peels his gaze away from her before the man notices how he’s basically eye fucking his daughter.

“ She usually write her own songs? ” He can't help but ask, her voice ringing out passionately as the song continues.

“ Majority of ‘em. Always got her nose stuffed in one’a her journals. When she’s not writin’, she’s at the piano or on the porch with her guitar. Melts my heart every time I see it. ”

Javier doesn’t say much in response, intrigued to hear how her voice sounds when it’s just her singing.

Paloma reproaches the microphone after the long instrumental that had the crowd dancing along to the upbeat country track concludes.

“ My daddy warned me about men like you He said, "Baby girl, he's playing you! He's playing you! ”

She sings with a vigor he was not expecting, making eye contact with him and he catches the way her red-stained lips pull into a smirk.

Just like that, she has captivated him all over again.

Under the stage lights, Paloma emanates an otherworldly glow, her presence as captivating as a celestial being. Clad entirely in black, she stands out against the band's more colorful attire. A leather miniskirt, paired with sleek black stockings, hugs her form, the oversized silver buckle of her belt gleaming under the spotlight's embrace.

Her leather jacket, mirroring the skirt's allure, features intricate silver detailing that catches and reflects the light with every movement. Beneath it, she wears nothing but a black bra, veiled by a sheer mesh top that adds a layer of sexiness to her ensemble.

Paloma's long brown hair cascades around her like a veil, framing her face in an aura of natural elegance. Atop her head sits a black cowgirl hat, a bold statement that perfectly complements her outfit. And completing the look, her feet are adorned with matching black boots, tying everything together with an air of effortlessness.

She appears absolutely mesmerizing. Javier finds himself reaching for another drink, needing its warmth to steady his racing heart.

“ 'Cause when trouble comes in town And men like me come around" Oh, my daddy said shoot Oh, my daddy said shoot. ”

The chorus is repeated once more by the performers and some of the crowd, which has him wondering if this was a Seminary original song.

“ Oh, my daddy said… shoot…. ”

They drag the last lyric out with the rattle of the drum’s percussion before the song officially ends and The Whiskey Fox erupts into a boisterous applause. The women take turns hugging and congratulating each other, though his focus is solely on Paloma. He doesn’t even acknowledge when Romeo gets up to get them all another round of drinks.

" Well, folks, I reckon y'all just witnessed a taste of the good ol' honky-tonk spirit here at The Whiskey Fox! Ain't nothin' like harmonizin' with these talented sisters and feelin' the energy of this fine establishment. Let's raise a toast to good music, good company, and good times at the Whiskey Fox—where the spirits are high and the music's just right! " The bar laughs and this gets a bemused chuckle out of Javier, who stubs out the cigarette he’d been puffing on throughout the performance.

“ So another ‘round of applause for the lovely Lone Star Sisters . ” After a few more formalities and some announcements, Paloma disappears for a brief moment before he spots her again, this time heading in his direction.

She’s stopped a few times along the way by some patrons who simply cannot get over her and her performance.

All Javier does is admire and be amused at how they treat her like she’s a celebrity. Even watches as she signs a slip of paper and crouches down to give it to a little girl. The interaction has his heart racing so he downs the drink in front of him to slow it down.

–––––––––––––––––––

The adrenaline that Paloma feels after a show is indescribable. It’s like she transforms when she’s up there, giving it her all and making sure that the crowd watching is being entertained to the fullest extent. It’s why she absolutely loves it when she sees everyone dancing, has even spotted a few people singing along to some of the original songs she performs regularly.

It’s an even better feeling when she gets off stage and is being praised left and right; it makes her feel like the art she puts out is important as it’s being appreciated by everyone and not just those in her immediate circle. What really melts her heart, though, is when she sees the gleam in the eyes of the younger girls who come see her play. As if they’re looking up to her, seeing their own aspirations performing out on the stage. Knowing that she’s somewhat of a role model to them is all she needs to stay content in her passion for creating music.

After finally getting through the crowd of… admirers (she doesn’t like calling them fans; it feels odd), Paloma reaches the table her father always sits in but is pleasantly surprised to see just Javier there.

“ You came. ” She doesn't even try to hide the large smile on her face, heart still beating wildly in her chest due to the high energy performance.

“ Found a small window of opportunity in my very busy schedule to be able to make it. You’re lucky, hermosa . ” He teases and she laughs with a shake of her head, shaking off the leather jacket on her shoulders and removing the hat that sits on her head.

It is entirely too hot for her to sport it for the rest of the evening, so she drapes the jacket over the back of the chair and lets her hat hang over the corner of it.

“ You’re a damn good singer. ”

The compliment has those butterflies stirring in her stomach again. Paloma won’t ever admit that she made sure to be on her game tonight in anticipation of his attendance. She doesn’t want to come off as desperate, despite how flirtatious their interactions have been since they met.

“ You sayin’ that ‘cause you mean it or are you just tryin’ to become my groupie? ” She cocks her head to the side slightly, sliding into the seat across from him and crossing her legs. She bites her lip once she watches his eyes divert down to her thighs; the top of her stockings showing and a soft slither of her olive skin teasing him to make a move.

“ I genuinely mean it, querida , but being your groupie doesn’t sound half bad. ” Paloma giggles, scrunching her nose and he smiles at her.

Why does she feel like she’s drunk off him? What the hell does he lace his attention with?

Romeo returns right on time, setting down three glasses on the small, round table.

“ Alright, a bourbon for me, whiskey for Javier and a root beer with muddled cherries for my beautiful daughter. ” She reaches for her drink, ignoring the look Javier gives her and she takes a lengthy sip from the straw; the carbonation feeling so refreshing as it travels down her throat.

“ No celebratory drink? ” He asks her, fingers once more fishing out his cigarettes and lighter.

“ I only drink on occasion. Try not to do it when I sing unless I need to loosen up the good ‘ol pipes. ” Two fingers tap against her throat to emphasize her point, his dark eyes trailing the area and she knows his soft lips would feel divine against her warm skin.

The trio fall into small talk for all but five minutes when Javier’s pager buzzes in his jacket pocket. He excuses himself from the table and he saunters away to the pay phone outside of the bar. Paloma’s gaze follows him all the way out, sound of her father talking muffled as he overtakes her thoughts.

–––––––––––––––––––

Javier digs into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a few coins to insert into the public telephone then punching in the familiar number of his former partner. The line rings three times before Murphy picks up.

“ We got him. ”

The words knock the wind out of him and he stabilizes himself by sticking his hand out to lean against the payphone stand.

“ Alive or dead? ”

“ Trujillo shot the fucker right between the eyes. ”

He presses the phone against his forehead at the news, eyes closing as he allows it to fully sink in. Knows he should be relieved… that the weight on his shoulders should dissipate now that Pablo Escobar is dead.

Not in custody or cornered. No, dead .

Yet he isn’t relieved. Not as much as he would have wanted to be. It’s a bittersweet feeling, really. They can rejoice now that they got one dirty narc over and done with but if Javier has learned anything in the past few years–– it’s that this war on drugs is far from over. The rest of the Medellín cartel has yet to fall and Cali just reached its peak.

You know what they say: cut off one head and two more take its place.

But that’s no longer his problem. He had been reassigned, sent somewhere where he could chill the fuck out and start making amends for his fuckups in Colombia. His only focus now, as long as he’s concerned, is dealing with what happens in Seminary and Seminary only.

He and Steve finish their conversation, reminiscing on all the crazy ass shit they had to do and endure in order to get to this point. Steve ends the call by telling him that he should have been here to see it all the way through and that, in a strange turn of events, he was proud of everything they accomplished together despite the bullshit that ensued.

Javier doesn’t say much, as per usual, but he doesn’t have to. Steve knows he’s appreciative.

Fingers itch to pluck out another cigarette but he goes against the urge, instead collecting himself before reentering the bar.

–––––––––––––––––––

Paloma was left alone shortly after Javier left to take his phonecall, her father being pulled away by his buddies while she finished up the rest of her drink.

When Javier does return, she immediately notices the change in his demeanor but doesn’t know how to ask him what’s wrong without coming off as bothersome.

“ Everything good? ” Is what she decides on, leaning in to rest her chin on the palm of her hand as her elbow sits on the perpetually sticky top of their table.

“ Everything’s alright, muñeca . ” He takes his seat again, still being flirtatious but there’s an edge to it. He grabs his drink and swishes its contents around the glass before downing it all in one swift shot.

Paloma doesn’t say anything else, and she doesn’t get the chance to when her father returns to them.

“ I gotta go handle some shit that’s popping off with the Sullivan’s. Go get your things, baby, we’re leavin’. ” This pulls a groan from the back of her throat.

“ I do not want to tag along while you deal with whatever the fuck they got goin’ on. Not after last time. ” Very rarely does she tag along with her father when he’s on the job; and last time they had been called to the Sullivan farm–– she didn’t expect to be there for almost three hours trying to help calm down Mrs. Sullivan, who was threatening to shoot her husband with their shotgun.

The conversation seems to intrigue Javier, eyes darting between the both of them as he begins to smoke again.

“ Well, you’re gonna have to hitch a different ride, then. ”

“ That’s no problem, Mr. Peña will take me. ” They both look over to Javi as she’s just volunteered him to drive her home.

“ Paloma––– ”

“ It’s fine, Romeo. Go handle it, I’ll make sure she makes it home safely. ” His thumb drags against his bottom lip as he stares right back at Paloma and his intense gaze has her shifting in her seat, the familiar feeling of arousal shooting heat up between her thighs.

It doesn’t take much convincing to send the sheriff on his merry way, her body tingling at the idea of being alone with Javier in his truck as he takes her home.

“ You gonna make sure I’m fine? That I make it home safe and sound? ” Paloma asks with a bat of her eyelashes, leaning close enough to where their knees brush up against each other beneath the table.

He follows her lead, leaning forward and taking a drag from his cigarette. “ S’what I’m here to do, princesa . Make sure beautiful girls like you stay safe. ”

There’s still some bite to his words but it’s hot the way he flirts with her. She catches the scent of his musky cologne mixed with the liquor and cigarettes he's consumed and it’s intoxicating.

“ I thought I told you these things’ll kill you. ” She plucks the nicotine stick from between his middle and index finger, putting out the nearly finished thing against the ashtray.

“ And I thought I told you I’m gonna die eventually. ”

“ Try not to make it anytime soon. ”

“ Why, would you miss me, cariño ? ” His brows raise inquisitively as he asks her, brown eyes gleaming beneath the dim lighting.

Paloma shrugs, sliding out of her seat. “ Probably not. I’ve just met you. ” Is said nonchalantly, despite her head spinning from how badly she wants him. She grabs ahold of her jacket and hat, “ I’m going to go pack up my things. Meet me in the back alleyway in ten. ”

–––––––––––––––––––

After getting her stuff into the back of his truck and watching her say goodbye to everyone, Paloma is sat in the passenger seat as Javier drives along the familiar road towards her house.

It’s quiet at first, the radio playing some song softly to fill the void from the absence of conversation.

“ So… you got a girlfriend? ” Paloma’s question catches him off guard and he actually laughs in her face. “ Or boyfriend–– I don’t judge. ” She raises her hands defensively.

“ Why, you tryin’ to apply for the spot? ” Javier briefly takes his eyes off the road to look over at her, biting his tongue once he sees how she’s staring at him.

She leans against the door, the soft hue of the radio's blue light casting a tantalizing shadow across her face as she draws one knee up to her chest. In that moment, she exudes an aura of irresistible allure, beckoning with every curve and contour bathed in the seductive glow. Javier contemplates pulling over just to grab her by the neck and press his lips against hers.

She just rolls her eyes, playing with the ends of her skirt.

“ Not really, just curious. ” He can hear the sincerity coating her words and while he usually wouldn’t divulge in his personal life, let alone his romantic relationships, he decides to answer her truthfully.

“ No girlfriend. M’not really the settle down type of guy. ”

“ Ah, so he’s got commitment issues… ” Paloma trails off, messing with him.

“Somethin’ like that. ” He isn't offended by her assumption, since it is the truth.

“ So no girlfriend back home? Or in Colombia? ”

“ Why the sudden interest, princesa ? ”

“ Just trying to get to know you, cowboy. ” There she goes with that nickname again and he just shakes his head softly.

“ The honest truth...? No girlfriends anywhere. Lots of hookups in Colombia, though. The women there are very beautiful. ”

She’s silent, which has him looking over at her again yet this time she isn’t staring back, instead looking ahead at the road in front of them.

“ So you’re a slut. ”

He laughs again, much more lively this time, “ Most people would agree with you, yeah. But I had my reasons for sleepin’ around. ”

“ Aside from pleasure, what were the reasons? ” Her brows raise, her arms crossing against her chest, pushing her breasts together and the sight is like something straight out of a Playboy magazine.

“ Most of ‘em were informants. Prostitutes who had vital information about the criminals we were after. ”

“ So in return for intel, they got to spend a night with you? ”

“ That was part of it. ”

She hums and he turns the question on her before she starts asking about other aspects of his life in Colombia.

“ What about you? Got a boyfriend–– or girlfriend. I don’t judge. ” He repeats her own playful words back to her, making a turn then flipping on the brights as the street lights have decreased to none; leaving them traveling down the dark back roads.

“ No, not at the moment. I’ve only ever had one real boyfriend. ” Paloma leans her head back against the window, eyes still trained on the emptiness of the night. “ And that ended terribly so I didn’t bother trying again after that. ”

Curious to know this terrible ending she speaks of, Javier proceeds to stay on topic. “ Must’ve been real bad if it got you to give up entirely. ”

“ Yeah. His name was George. We dated in high school... can you keep a secret? ” She sudden;y asks, ripping her gaze from the windshield over to him. He can see her from his peripheral.

“ For you, nena , of course. ”

“ We were supposed to get married and run off the night before graduation. Had planned the whole thing out, even bribed an officiant to wed us in the middle of the night down by the cemetery. It didn’t take him much convincin’; told us he had a soft spot for young love. ” Javier doesn’t say anything in response, instead letting his silence speak for itself and allowing Paloma to continue on with her story.

“ The big night came. I was so nervous I coulda puked. Me and the officiant waited for what felt like an eternity until eventually he apologized to me and left. I cried there all night, a stupid and naive part of me hoping George would eventually show… he didn’t. ” She sighs heavily and Javier wants to reach his hand out to rub comforting circles with his thumb against her thigh but he doesn’t, instead driving down the driveway that led to her home.

“ Found out the next day that he had left for the army. Which was so heartbreaking since that’s why he wanted to leave Seminary. He didn’t want to enlist like his brother and father had. Guess something changed his mind… haven’t heard from him since. I never told anyone about it, and the officiant passed away shortly after so… ” She trails off and Javier genuinely feels for her.

However, he can relate to an extent. Not to her but to her ex. His relationship with Lorraine back in Laredo a haunting reminder of the type of man he was slowly turning into. Instead of leaving for the army, though, he’d left her at the alter to run off to Colombia.

“ That’s… tough, querida . ” He's never been the best at comforting and it doesn’t seem like she minds his scarce sympathy.

“ It is what it is. I got over him eventually. ” They roll to a stop once they’re at the large country home, he puts the truck in park and cuts the engine; letting a comfortable silence fall over them.

“ Thank you–– ”

“ Do you need–– ”

They both speak at the same time, interrupting the other and they share a laugh about it. “ Ladies first. ” He beckons her to continue, shifting his body slightly to face her.

“ Thank you for bringing me home. I know I didn’t give you much of an option. ” The soft click of her seatbelt being undone brings a sense of reluctance over him, knowing that her departure is imminent and he's already dreading the moment she must leave.

“ Anytime, hermosa . ” Javi's dark eyes soften, “ Do you need help getting your things inside? ” Paloma nods and he’s quick to hop out of the truck, rounding it to open the door for her before she even gets the chance to reach over for the handle.

“ What a gentleman. ” She purrs, her hand brushing against his shoulder as she walks past him to help unload her equipment.

The desire to push her up against his truck and passionately kiss her, have his hands explore every inch of her body is tempting as all hell but he shows some self restraint.

They get everything into the living room and she walks him over to the front door.

“ I appreciate your help, Mr. Peña . ” Paloma leans against the doorframe with a teasing simper. They’re close enough to where he can see all the small imperfections that litter her skin. His eyes taking in how beautiful she looks up close, their bodies slowly gravitating towards each other.

“ You ever gonna stop callin’ me that? ” He asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hands landing on either sides of his hips.

The girl shrugs, blinking slowly. “ Not till you’re not bothered by it. ” They exchange a lustful stare until he decides it’s time for him to leave before things escalate and he crosses a boundary he’s helplessly trying not to overstep.

“ I’ll see you around, Miss Leighton. ” Very reminiscent to their last goodbye, her smirk softens into a smile.

“ Goodnight, Javier. ” One, two seconds pass before she’s leaning in to place a gentle kiss against his cheek, the feeling has his heart racing and she pulls back slowly before taking a few steps back and closing the door.

Javier is left in a stunned silence, the small act of affection impacting him more than he would like to admit.

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