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andvys · 9 months

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 26

Warnings: 18+, angst, alcohol consumption, weed, mentions of vomiting, mentions of sex, mentions of cunnilingus, clueless reader, jealousy

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: During a spontaneous birthday 'party', you find some things out, things that maybe should've been left unsaid.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: So, this chapter took a whole turn while I was writing it. It was supposed to head into a whole different direction but my angsty heart, had to say no to the fluffy route. @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me, you're amazingggg

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Steve lied.

He lied again.

It’s something he hasn’t done in a while.

He promised himself to never do it again, knowing how much damage it had caused in the past, in both relationships that he had.

This lie is harmless, though. At least, he thinks that it is.

He spent the day with Robin and Dustin, they had surprised him with a homemade birthday cake that Robin had made with Chrissy’s help, it would’ve been a cute one, had Dustin not ruined it with his Star Wars decorations. Lucas and Max showed up as well, ‘surprising’ him by throwing a bunch of balloons and confetti at him.

They made him blow out the candles, before forcing him to open all the presents. Dustin’s present was not surprising, at all. A Star Wars movie collection. Lucas had given him a keychain, with a little basketball pendant. Max acted all careless as always, shrugging it off when he gave her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’, yet, she gave him one of the best presents, a collection of polaroids of him with the teens, with Robin and even you, along with new records, claiming that he needs to expand his music taste. He has yet to unwrap Robin’s presents.

They ate cake, went to the movies and the diner. And afterwards, Steve drove everyone home. Robin didn’t believe him when he said that he made plans with his parents for the evening, that they’d come home to spend his birthday with him. She was suspicious, not buying the lies he was feeding her with, Steve could tell but she had no choice but to say goodbye when he dropped her off at home, he really didn’t want her to stay longer than she had to, he wanted to be alone, by himself. So, when she begrudgingly got out of the car and gave him a sad smile, he gave her a cheerful one back, pretending to be happy when he was feeling anything but it.

He didn’t go home. He knew that his parents wouldn’t come and he couldn’t stand the thought of staying in that big house, all by himself, tonight. He drove past your street, as well, fighting the urge to go and see you.

There is only one place he knew he would find peace at. The Hideout.

Now, he is sitting here, in the corner of the bar, with a drink that he had bought with his fake ID, soon he won’t have to use it anymore. With his head hung low, he lets his mind go to places that he had avoided all day. Dark thoughts that hold nothing but heartbreak and loneliness. He doesn’t feel miserable, just really fucking sad. He has people who care about him, friends who love him, people he now considers family. And yet, he still feels lonelier than ever.

He looks around the bar, it’s not very crowded, it never is. Maybe on weekends, but never during the week. Rock music plays in the back, he hears the chatter of a group of young men by the bar, they’re laughing, throwing back drinks – they are clearly having a great time. For a while, Steve watches them. How they laugh with each other, how they all look so carefree and happy. He doesn’t even know what it feels like to feel that way anymore, to have fun and be happy without ruining everything with his actions in the matter of just a few minutes.

He sighs, leaning back in the chair, he looks down at his drink, that lately he started to find more and more comfort in.

The door opens but he doesn’t bother to look up, not caring about whoever it is that walked through the door. He is so focused on the miserable feeling inside his chest, the tearing, the longing, the yearning, the hurt.

Before his mind can react, his heart is already fluttering when he hears your voice. He raises his head, eyes finding you immediately. You’re here. You’re here with Eddie. And you look more beautiful than ever. You’re wearing a black dress and the dark denim jacket that he was cursing at, last year when he had yet to find out who it belonged to. Your hair is falling softly in waves, your lips are glowing a soft pink beneath the dim light, you’re giggling, slapping Eddie’s arm playfully when he whispers something in your ear.

His eyes soften, despite you being here with him, giggling at him, he can’t help but smile when he finally sees you again. It’s only been a few weeks since he had properly seen you, yet, it seems like forever.

When your eyes find him and your giggles die down, your smile falls and your eyes widen. He freezes. Not knowing how to react or what to do. Not only have you caught him staring, you have also caught him lying. Again. You were the first person he lied to about his birthday plans. He looks away with a blush on his cheeks, his hand grip the glass tighter, he inwardly curses himself out for coming here, tonight.

“It’s his birthday, right?” Eddie mumbles behind you.

“Yeah,” you whisper in confusion. “He told me that he would spend his birthday with his parents..”

Eddie looks away from you and back at Steve. He sits there, looking crestfallen. His shoulders are slumped, his face etched with sadness, he can see it, even from a distance. The sight of him sitting there so lonely and sad is pitiful. Eddie knows what he feels like, at this moment. His dad never cared about him, not even on his birthdays, he never even bothered to give him a call from wherever he was currently living or staying at.

But, Eddie has Wayne, he always had Wayne. Steve doesn’t. He doesn’t have anyone who looks after him. He is all by himself.

“I guess they didn’t come,” you mumble with sadness and a hint of disappointment in your voice. “They never do.”

“Robin told me that he was acting weird when he dropped her off earlier.”

Despite his dislike for him, he can’t help but feel bad for Steve. The people he wants the most, aren’t in his life.

His parents are gone.

You are gone.

Steve had changed. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Eddie can see that he has changed for the better. That he isn’t the guy who hurt you, who left you standing on your birthday, who broke your heart and left you for someone else. He isn’t that guy anymore. Had he still been that guy, Eddie wouldn’t even bother to look at him twice and feel any ounce of pity for him but now, things are different. He is different. In a way, it scares Eddie, because he knows that he now has a chance for a second try, with you.

“Do you think he’s here by himself?”

You shrug, looking away from Steve, you turn towards Eddie, “yeah.”

You feel the little item in your pocket, the one that suddenly feels too heavy, the one you itch to reach for and give it to the one you got it for.

Eddie looks down at you, at the sadness in your eyes. For once, it doesn’t make him feel frustrated or annoyed to see you be so sad for someone who hurt you.

“No one should be alone on their birthday,” Eddie mumbles.

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking down at your hands. “But, I-I guess it’s what he wanted, he could’ve spent time with Robin.”

“He was with her before, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie sighs. There is hesitation in your voice and in your eyes.

“Do you want to spend time with him?” He asks, already feeling the dread tugging in his chest, knowing that the night won’t go the way he wanted it to.

For a moment, you stare into Eddie’s brown eyes, there’s a kindness in them, kindness for him. That is something so rare.

“Uh, I’m sure he wants to be alone.”

Eddie knows you. Eddie knows what you want, right now. But, you are hesitating out of fear of upsetting him.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, placing his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. “I won’t get angry. If you want to spend time with him tonight, we can cancel our plans and you can go be with him.” He nudges his chin into Steve’s directions. “I don’t like him but, shit, even I can’t stand the fucking kicked puppy look that he’s sporting, right now.”

You eye his face. Even through the sadness for Steve, the smile for you, you can see the slight fear in his eyes. The fear that any moment with you, will be his last one before you find your way back to Steve, before you say goodbye to a friendship that might’ve saved your life. But even through the fear, he still wants the best for you, he still wants what you want.

“I think he wants to be alone,” you repeat.

Eddie looks over your shoulder to see him staring at you.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

You sigh, shaking your head.

“What if we all hang out together?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that Steve would be happy to spend time with me–”

“Please, Eddie,” you whisper, mustering up the best puppy eyes and a pout that he can never say no to. “We can just have fun together, you’ve never met drunk Steve before, he can be funny – unless he decides to break your heart but, that won’t happen to you, don’t worry,” you giggle.

He raises his brows at you, surprised that you are making a joke about that.

“You go buy us drinks and I’ll go convince him to spend time with us. We can just all get drunk together, maybe you’ll finally get along,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile, you place your hands on his chest, pushing him towards the bar, not taking no for an answer.

“I don’t think it’ll take much convincing,” he snorts. As though you would ever have to convince Steve to spend time with you. Eddie is certain that all it takes is a glance from you and that man is already by your side, you got Steve wrapped around your finger, just like him, and you don’t even know it.

You turn on your heel, not waiting for a response from Eddie. You make your way over to Steve, whose head is still hung low. Your heart thumps a little faster in your chest when you inch closer and closer to him. You push your hand into your pocket, reaching for the tiny bag that you had taken with you earlier when you considered dropping by his house.

You stop in front of him, taking a shaky breath as you place the small bag on the table, sliding it towards him.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” you whisper.

His wide eyes stare at the bag, the tiny jewelry pouch that clearly holds a present inside for him. His eyes soften, staring at your ringed fingers that linger next to his hand for a moment.

He looks up, slowly. Hazel eyes flashing with softness when they meet yours. You stare at him with a shy smile, sadness lingering in your pretty eyes. His heart flutters so strongly, he longs to touch you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, giving you a smile. “W-What’s that?” He asks, pointing to his present without tearing his eyes from you.

“I got you a little present. I-It’s nothing special just, I just wanted to get you something. You don’t have to open it now, just uh–”

“Y/n,” he smiles, interrupting your rambling, “you didn’t even have to get me anything but I appreciate it, I will love it.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Yeah but it’s from you, so, I will love it, dolly.”

A smile appears on your face, you nod slowly, whispering a small ‘okay’. You know that Steve always loved to keep certain presents for last, so you’re not surprised to see him tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.

“Your parents didn’t come?”

He looks down, holding the glass tighter, he shakes his head, unable to bear the pitiful look on your face.

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers before you can say ‘I'm sorry, steve.’ He doesn’t want you to pity him.

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I-I wasn’t alone, I was with Robin all day and the kids–”

“But, now you are.”

He raises his head to look at you. And, before he can even say anything, his words get caught in his throat when he looks at you. Your eyes are glistening, not with tears and sadness, but with something else, something he cannot read. You look at him differently than you did weeks ago, not in a way that scares him or breaks him but, in a way, that only leaves him with one too many questions. He struggles to read you, to understand you. It’s like he can no longer see through you the way he could before. Nonetheless, he feels so calm and safe in your presence and he wants this moment to last forever.

“Right now, I’m not, though. You’re here.”

You smile at his words.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

When Eddie appears by your side, Steve tries not to let his smile fall.

Right. He is here too.

“Happy Birthday, man.”

To Steve’s surprise, he sees Eddie not with two but three shots in his hands, he places them all on the table. Grinning at him in a way he can’t tell whether it’s a kind one or a sarcastic one.

“Thanks,” Steve nods at him.

Eddie pulls the chair back for you, you smile at him, taking the seat across from Steve. Eddie sits down beside you, leaving Steve with a questioning look on his face as he looks between the two of you.

“W-What?”

“You think we’re gonna let you spend the night alone, Harrington?”

Steve looks at Eddie in confusion, hearing these words not from yours but from his mouth leaves him more puzzled than ever. Eddie spending time with him willingly? He purses his lips, squinting his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, shrugging. You slide one of the shots towards him.

“I mean, I thought that we could spend this night together,” you say, smiling with hope in your eyes. “Or we can leave if that’s what you–”

“No, I-I want to.”

He looks between you two, giving Eddie an awkward smile.

“Cool! Let’s drink, then.”

“Yeah, let’s drink,” he chuckles as he ditches his glass of whiskey for the shot of whatever Eddie had ordered.

“When’s the last time you got drunk?” You ask them both.

“Oh man,” Eddie mumbles, leaning back in his seat, he puts his arm on the back of your chair. “I don’t even remember, it’s been a while. What about you, sweetheart?”

“Uh, well, I had a cocktail night with the girls, a few weeks ago,” you say, giggling. “Oh, also at a party.”

You and Eddie look at each other, he instantly knows what party you are talking about when he sees the amused look on your face. He chuckles, though he instantly gets taken back that night. When you showed up with that stolen bat plushie, when you told him how much you missed him, when you told him that you wished you met him first.

Steve looks between you two, a sinking feeling in his stomach takes place. There are things you share with Eddie, things that he will never know about because he isn’t in his place anymore.

“I knew it! I knew you were lying to me, Dingus!”

Startled by the voice, all three of you snap your heads towards the angry girl walking towards the three of you with a frown on her face, pointing her finger at Steve.

Steve’s eyes widen, “I can explain.”

Something about the anger on Robin’s face and the panic in Steve’s features makes you giggle.

Robin slaps the back of his head, lightly.

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are such a–”

“Dingus, yeah yeah, I know.”

Eddie laughs at that, smirking at Steve who throws him a glare.

“You think that’s funny, Munson?”

Eddie leans back with a satisfied grin, “actually yeah.”

Robin plops down in the seat next to Steve, still staring at him with a frown on her face.

“Why did you lie to me? Why are you here?”

Steve sighs, scratching the back of his neck as he gives her a sheepish smile.

“And what are you two doing here?” She asks, turning to look at you and Eddie.

“Came here for a couple of drinks and then we found this sad puppy,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes, mumbling a few incoherent words under his breath.

“We just asked him to spend the night with us.”

Robin gives you a surprised look before her eyes move back to Eddie, who, doesn’t look as enthusiastic about this whole thing as you do.

“How did you even know I was here?”

Robin leans her elbow on the table, tilting her head at Steve, “well, I was craving some burgers and my favorite driver was apparently at a birthday dinner so I couldn’t ask him to drive me, so I walked, imagine my surprise when I saw a certain BMW standing in front of The Hideout.”

“Robin–”

“No! Don’t Robin me! Why’d you lie?”

Steve didn’t want her to feel like it’something she had to do, hang out with him, spend his birthday with him because there’s no one else for him other than her. He doesn’t want her to do anything out of pity for him.

He doesn’t feel comfortable to talk about it in front of Eddie or even you, knowing that you pity him the most. You always did and he hated it. A part of him always thought that that’s why you were with him, because you pitied him, the sad boy who was always abandoned by his own parents, because you knew he had no one else that cared about him, that loved him. So you stayed, you stayed even when you shouldn’t have.

Even now, you look at him with those big sad eyes with that look of pity in them.

“Robin,” you warn when you notice how uncomfortable he looks, how he clenches his jaw and bites his lip.

Eddie senses the tension, the looks you are giving Robin, the way she is ignoring you because she desperately wants an explanation from Steve.

“Lay off, Robin. Maybe he just wanted to get a few drinks and not deal with your annoying ass,” he says to her with a grin.

She flips him off, rolling her eyes at him.

“Just relax, here, take my shot and drink it, you need it, Robin,” you say, sliding the shot glass towards her.

She turns towards the two of you, shaking her head with squinted eyes, “you’re both pretty rude.”

“So are you, Robby.”

“Ew,” she scrunches her face up at Eddie, “don’t fucking call me Robby.”

“I’m gonna keep calling you that, if you don’t stop being so rude to sad birthday boy over there.”

Steve sighs, running his hand down his face.

“Can you just call me Steve, dude?”

You giggle at the annoyed look on his face.

Eddie grins, “okay, Steve.”

“Not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re mocking me!” Steve exclaims.

“How am I mocking you, Steve?”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head, “see, you’re doing it again!”

“Oh my god, shut the hell up!” Robin slams her hands against the table, truly, shutting them both up. “Eddie, get me a drink.”

Both Steve and Eddie look at her as though she had grown two heads, while you giggle at her little outburst.

“That was an order.”

“Damn girl,” Eddie whistles, getting up from his chair, “you need more than one drink,” he mumbles as he walks off.

“You are both two immature idiots,” she groans, burying her hands in her hair.

“You are so mean to me,” Steve mumbles, looking at her in disbelief, “and that on my birthday!”

A smile tugs at your lips, you look between them, chuckling at the way she rolls her eyes at him.

“You know what, I really need a few drinks.”

“Wait, are we actually doing this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the shots on the table.

“What, getting drunk?”

He nods at you.

“Yeah. Just like old times, right?” You smile at him in a way you always used to.

“Just like old times.”

His eyes suddenly flash with amusement, he snorts, “do you remember my fifteenth birthday?”

Your eyes widen as a giggle falls from your lips.

“Of course I remember!”

Robin’s eyes flash with curiosity. There’s things she doesn’t know about yours and his friendship, things neither you or Steve had talked about yet.

“Wait, what happened on your fifteenth birthday?”

Your eyes light up with excitement, you lean closer to the table, looking at Steve, waiting for him to tell the story.

He chuckles at the look on your face before he turns his body towards Robin.

“We stole my dad’s super expensive wine, he was supposed to take it to some event – I got in so much trouble for that, by the way,” he says to you.

“I know, I know. Keep going, Steve.”

“Alright, so, we stole that wine bottle. We played a drinking game, kept passing that bottle back and forth until we were fucking hammered,” he says, chuckling as he thinks back to that day in his backyard. The way you giggled at anything he said, the way you danced and ran around barefoot on the grass, the way you jumped in his pool, fully clothed, the way he hugged you when you were both in the water.

“This crazy girl over there started to cannon ball into my pool–”

You giggle at the memory.

“She did it over and over again and it looked so fun so I joined her. Honestly, it was pretty fun but I had half a bottle of wine and ate a whole pizza before that.”

“Oh,” Robin scrunches her face up, already seeing where this is going.

Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips, his eyes crinkle, his cheeks flush and he giggles, “we’re in the pool, having the best time of our lives, right? And, fifteen year old me apparently thought that it was a good idea to kiss my best friend, but I totally missed her lips and kissed her nose and she fucking laughed at me, but I wanted to try again. I lean in when I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.”

“Oh, ew! Stop!”

“He threw up in the pool, Robin!”

“That’s so disgusting!” She whines, trying to get the image of Steve puking into the pool out of her head, “you don’t have any better stories to tell?”

You and Steve can’t help but laugh harder at her reaction.

“I mean the kiss on the nose is fucking embarrassing, Steve. But throwing up in front of her afterwards?”

“I thought it was funny,” you giggle.

“What is funny?” Eddie asks when he comes back with two drinks for Robin, placing them on the table and sliding them towards her before he sits down beside you again.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Robin says with a look of disgust on her face.

“I don’t?” He asks, glancing at you and how amused you look.

“No, you really don’t.”

“Okay,” he snorts.

He glances at Steve, grinning at him, “hey dude, I got a birthday present for you.”

All three of you turn to look at Eddie in surprise, watching him in curiosity when he raises his hand, reaching for something in the pocket of his dark flannel. He picks out a joint, tossing it at Steve who catches it with one hand.

He laughs at that, raising one brow, giving Eddie a smile, “I do appreciate this, it’s kind of expensive nowadays.”

“Is it expensive?” You ask, turning to Eddie, “you always give me some for free.”

Eddie’s lips curl into a smile, he lifts his hand towards your face, tapping your nose with his finger, “well, you’re my best friend.”

Steve keeps his eyes down, not wanting to look between you and Eddie.

You smile at the way Eddie looks at you, the way his eyes glisten, the way his cheeks are always a little red, the way–

“Do you guys wanna smoke this?” Steve asks, cutting the voice in your head.

“Here?”

He chuckles at Robin, “of course not. We could go back to my place, my parents aren’t home, anyways.”

To Eddie’s surprise, he not only directs these words at you and Robin, he also directs them at him.

“Uh, I’d love to!” Robin grins.

Steve gives you a hopeful smile, one that makes it impossible to say no to him.

“Me too.”

At that, his eyes light up and his smile grows bigger.

“Sure, let’s do it.”

“We’ll have to walk though,” Robin gestures to the drink Steve already had, “cause you can’t drive and I don’t have a license.”

He shrugs, “we can take Eddie’s van and I’ll get my car tomorrow morning.”

“Uh, no,” Eddie mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “my uncle took my van cause his car is at the shop, we walked here.”

Steve sighs, “shit.”

“But you could let me drive, I didn’t have anything yet,” Eddie smirks, pointing to the untouched shots.

Steve snorts at him with a deep glare, “uh, yeah, keep dreaming, Munson,” he mumbles as he leans back, reaching for the keys in his pockets, you all watch him curiously. “The only one who’s allowed to drive my car is dolly.”

Robin raises her brows in surprise when Steve chucks his keys at you that you quickly catch, looking down at them with a dumbfounded expression before your eyes light up and you look up, beaming at Steve.

“Okay, let’s go,” you smile, excitedly as you play with the car keys. You scoot back, getting up from the chair. Robin knocks back one shot before she gets up as well. Steve and Eddie glance at the four untouched shots on the table and then, their eyes meet, they both shrug at each other and reach for two shots, each.

Robin pats Steve’s shoulder, chuckling when he knocks one back and then the other, grimacing at the strong taste.

You giggle at Eddie, who looks unfazed by the bitter taste.

“Let’s go, ladies and.. Steve,” he grins.

“Dude.”

“Don’t start this again,” Robin warns, pointing at them both before she rushes over to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, she grins, “us ladies, ride in the front, and you two can cuddle in the back,” she winks at them, pulling you away with a giggle.

After an eventful ride to Steve’s house and a few shots of tequila, you all settled in his backyard, each of you occupying one of the many loungers around the pool. Passing around the joint that Eddie had given Steve as a ‘birthday gift’. You are sipping on a drink that Steve has made for you, coke mixed with his dad’s expensive whiskey. You are pretty sure that you will regret the amount of alcohol and weed you are having tonight, when you wake up tomorrow morning. But the floaty and giddy feeling you are experiencing right now, will have to make up for it.

Steve is sitting on the lounger beside you, a can of beer in his hand, his lips wrapped around the joint that is already stained with your lipstick. A spitcurl is hanging in front of his eyes, he doesn’t bother to push it away. He shakes his head at something Robin had said to him, something you didn’t even hear because you were too busy letting your eyes skip back and forth between him and the curly haired metalhead who now left his lounger to be closer to you.

Eddie wraps his hands around your calves, stroking your skin softly with his ringed fingers as he places your feet on his lap. He does it all without breaking his conversation with Robin. Though he feels the goosebumps on your skin, he hears the breath that hitched in your throat when he touched you. He hides his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip of the cold beer.

Steve clenches his jaw as he looks between you and Eddie. The way he continues to stroke your calf, the way he smirks at your reaction, the way you are blushing, biting your lip as you look down at the hand touching your skin.

He forces himself to look away, turning back to Robin, he offers her the joint.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, giggling when she almost doubles over as she reaches for the joint.

“Already hammered and we haven’t even played a drinking game yet, tsk,” Eddie shakes his head, giving her a playful grin.

With an eye roll, she gets up, placing the joint between her lips as she sits down next to Steve.

“A drinking game, huh? What kind? ‘Never have I ever’? Okay,” She grins at him without giving him a chance to reply. “Never have I ever had a girlfriend,” she smirks, teasing him.

Steve licks his lips, chuckling at Eddie, who nods at her with an annoyed look on his face.

You raise your eyebrows, “why are you teasing him, I never had a girlfriend, either,” you shrug.

“Yeah but you had a boyfriend,” she mumbles, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

Eddie tilts his head at you, looking you up and down with a smirk, “do you want one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask as you raise the glass to your lips, shrugging, “I don’t know, I never thought about it but kissing girls is fun, so.. I suppose doing anything else with a girl is fun too.”

Eddie’s lips part, his brown eyes widen, darkening as they do so. He swallows as he continues to stare at you. Millions of questions run through his mind. There are things he doesn’t know about you, yet?

Robin and Steve look at you in surprise.

“Wait, w-what?” He mumbles, laughing nervously.

Robin’s lips curl into a smirk, “you kissed a girl before? Who?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, do tell us your dirty little secrets.”

“Hmm, no,” you smirk, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Was that before or after me?” Steve asks, cheeks flushed red as he tries to fight the images out of his mind.

“Before you,” you giggle.

“Shit, I wanna know who it was.”

“Me too, Eddie,” Robin says. “I know that it wasn’t Chrissy, she’d tell me.”

“Huh, was it another girl from the cheer squad?”

You shake your head at Eddie, biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing.

“Were you close?”

You shrug, nodding your head.

Steve squints his eyes, tilting his head at you.

Robin’s jaw drops a little when she figures it out. There is only one girl that you’re close with that wasn’t in the cheer squad – well, besides her.

“Holy shit,” she mouths at you, grinning.

Steve and Eddie glance at each other in confusion.

It’s amusing how obvious the answer is, yet, neither of them are close to figuring it out.

“If you think kissing a girl is fun, you should try eating one out,” Robin mumbles before she takes a drag from the joint, “it’s the best thing ever.” She blows out the smoke, not noticing the confused frown on your face.

“For once, I have to agree with you, Robin,” Eddie chuckles.

Steve freezes, closing his eyes as he looks down.

“Huh?”

Noticing the look on your face, Robin suddenly regrets opening her mouth about that. Your lips are parted, your eyes filled with confusion and curiosity, your brows are pinched together as you stare at her with a questioning look on your face. She straightens her back, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breath when she looks at Steve’s embarrassed face.

“What’s that?”

Eddie freezes. The smirk falls from his face, he glances at you, at the clueless, lost look on your face. Oh. Steve had never – fuck. How? If you were his, he’d spend day and night on his knees, worshiping you.

“Huh?” This time, it’s him, whose confused.

You look at him with big and curious eyes.

“What is that, I don’t watch porn.”

“Damn, I guess it’s time to,” Robin mutters through gritted teeth.

“Licking someone’s pussy, sweetheart. And well, fucking one with your tongue.”

Your jaw drops, your cheeks heat up and you stare at him in shock. You look cute like this and he could stare at you forever but, in his state of shock, he slowly turns his head towards Steve, eyes filled with concern, confusion and disbelief, “dude, what is wrong with you?”

Steve, whose face is beet red, glares at him.

“I’m very self conscious of not doing a good job, so–”

“You learn!” Eddie throws his hands up.

“What, Munson, are you the pussy expert or something?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at him.

You look back and forth between them. Taking in the sight of Eddie’s slightly angered face and Steve’s embarrassed one.

“I have eaten my share of pussy, thank you very much.”

The scoff falls from your lips before you can even stop it. Neither of them acknowledge you though, until you open your mouth. “What, like three?” You scoff, again. “You only fucked three girls, that’s what you told me, unless you lied about that.”

Eddie swallows, glancing at you, he fails to notice just how intense the look in your eyes is.

“There’s a difference between sex and foreplay, sweetheart.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue as you look into his eyes. Not once, had you spent a single second wondering if Eddie was seeing someone, if he was fooling around with girls when he wasn’t with you. But now that you think about it, now that you imagine him with other girls, you suddenly feel the bile rising in your throat. The sickening feeling makes you want to drop to your knees and puke out the waffles you had eaten this morning.

“So, when was the last time you did that then, Eddie?” Robin asks, both curious to know and to see your reaction.

He shrugs, “I don’t know, Buckley. I don’t keep count of how many days–”

“Yes, you do! Men always do!”

He doesn’t feel comfortable sharing that in front of you, but he knows that Robin won’t drop it until she gets an answer she’s satisfied with. Besides, you probably won’t even care. Despite Dmitri’s encouraging words, he still refuses to believe that there are any feelings other than the platonic ones that you feel for him. This won’t hurt you, right?

“Fine! Two or three months ago, happy? Now, Harrington, I think I should teach you some basics.”

You feel as though a cold bucket of water has been dropped on you. Your heart leaps to your throat as your stomach drops. Another wave of sickness floods through you. You stare at him, not noticing Steve’s or Robin’s eyes on you.

When was that? Was it the weekend you couldn’t spend time with him? The night you couldn’t come to his gig? Was it before or after he had gotten angry at you for kissing Steve?

It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, it shouldn’t make you feel this sick, this jealous. You barely figured out your feelings for him. But the longer you stare at him, listen to his words, you can’t help but feel anger rather than jealousy.

You didn’t have feelings for him back then, or at least, you weren’t aware of them. He’s single and free to do whatever he wants but so are you – so were you when you kissed Steve and yet, he was so angry at you when he found out about it. He treated you so coldly, all because he hated the thought of you kissing Steve. Yet, he was out there fooling around with other girls.

“You have never actually eaten pussy before, dude?” Robin mumbles.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, nervously, “I mean, yeah. Just not–” he pauses with a look of shame in his eyes as he briefly glances at you.

You roll your eyes.

You’re not surprised to hear that, you’re not even hurt. After everything that happened between you and him, his sex life with Nancy is the last thing you had ever worried about. You always knew that he treated her better than he ever treated you.

And, that he tried new things with her isn’t anything shocking to you, anyways.

You open your mouth but before you can say something that might ruin the night, you press your lips together again. Sighing, you look down at your drink. You take a deep breath before you raise the glass to your lips, gulping down the rest of it.

You plaster a smile on your face. Ignoring the concerned looks that Robin is giving you. She thankfully changes the topic. Eddie and Steve, surprisingly fall into yet another conversation.

Their distraction allows you to slip away for a moment, you pass by Robin without meeting her eyes and make a quick escape to the bathroom. Locking yourself into the small room for a moment to collect yourself.

Despite the anger you are feeling, you don’t want to ruin the night for Steve.

You splash some cold water and run your fingers through your hair.

With tears in your eyes, you stare at yourself in the mirror.

Whether it’s tears of anger or tears of sadness. You are sick of it. You are sick of yourself. You are sick of crying. You are sick of the pining, of the jealousy, of the sadness.

Steve had given Nancy everything. He tried new things with her while you were grieving your relationship, crying yourself to sleep and thinking about him like a goddamn fool while he was having the time of his life with a different girl.

And Eddie, you try not to think about it, you try not to let the jealousy in. But you can’t push out the anger that you are feeling for him, right now.

Or the anger that you are feeling for yourself.

How you take everything to heart. How you let everything and everyone hurt you.

You are done.

You are so fucking done.

next chapter

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked @nemesis729

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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purple-babygirl · 5 months

Text

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

Part IV

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whitexwolfxx310 · 1 month

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|| Why Are You Never Real ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Eleanor//Elena)) || Bucky x Loki Summary: In 1943, 24 year old Eleanor gets set up on a blind date with Bucky Barnes. The match is so perfect, it was written in the stars. Yes, they're soulmates. Unfortunately, HYDRA gets in the way- taking the perfect life away from the two. But what if fate was so certain, it gave them another chance to be together?

Warnings: Fluff and angst off the charts (I'm so sorry!). Some cursing- but very little.

Word Count: 5.8k A/Ns: So a few things inspired this fic; First, someone requested something similar to this about a year ago. The idea stuck with me (although it was originally about the love interest being on ice also). I can't find the message of the person who requested, so if you come across this & it was you, please let me know so I can give you credit! Second, I saw a TikTok of Bucky & Loki and I've been obsessed with bringing the two together. Last but not least, I'm one of those that is constantly blasting Sleep Token- so in combination with all of these things, the song: The Apparition was also inspiring. Let me know what you think!

1943

It was Labor Day weekend, and anybody who's anybody knows that's when the carnival came to town. Not only was it the official end to the hot New York summers, but it was an escape from everything having to do with the ongoing War. It was a reprieve for the children, to go out and experience some lighthearted fun. But mostly, the carnival lured the young adult crowd like a gullible captain to a siren in the sea.

Eleanor was twenty-four, still living comfortably at home with her parents and four younger siblings. While she helped take care of her siblings, the passive comments about how she was unmarried and reaching her prime age to start a family never failed to be brought up in daily conversations in their household. It wasn't for a lack of suitors. Plenty of men had asked her on dates, a few even so bold enough to offer marriage without so much as going for a stroll in the park. But for Eleanor, it wasn't just about picking a random man to build a life with. She dreamed of a true romance, just like the ones she would get so lost in while reading her books- and eventually starting a family out of love and not necessity or by society's regards.

While she had already made plans to meet up with her girlfriends on Saturday night at the carnival, her mother had a different idea- A blind date.

Eleanor had intriguingly spent the afternoon with her hair in curlers and ironing her favorite yellow summer dress, the one with white polka dots and matching heels. It would perfectly accent the slight tan she obtained from the few times she snuck to the beach on the outskirts of the city to dig her toes in the sand and lay in the scorching sun. As her typical primping time took a little longer than usual in anticipation for the blind date, Eleanor’s mind kept getting swept up in who the possible mystery man could be. Was it someone she knew? A family friend? What did he look like? Was he short or tall? Does he have a sense of humor? Sure, she of course curious if he was handsome. But that was never her main focus. Eleanor wanted someone who could make her laugh- someone that was playful and knew how to have fun. But a pretty face was definitely a bonus. Opening the front door and stepping out into the Summer’s relentless humidity, she was met with none other than Bucky Barnes- Brooklyn's most notorious flirt and former high school crush. He leaned casually against the railing of the front steps, dressed in an olive-green Class A's uniform wearing a smug smile.

"Ready for our date, Doll?" After initially closing the door in his face in a panic, Eleanor's mother pleaded with her to try and give him a chance. Rumor amongst the women on the block was that he was looking for a wife. She rambled off the typical list of how handsome he was, how he came from a good family, and the cherry on top of the guilt pie: he had just enlisted in the Army and was leaving in just a few short weeks for basic training. Who knows when he will come back home, if at all? Could one date really be so bad?

Eleanor felt nervous walking the few blocks with Bucky, exchanging formal pleasantries about how beautiful the night was and so on. But she was shy- at least, by her standards. She had always worn a big smile and never felt self-conscious about how loud she laughed, regardless of how many times people stated that it was ‘unladylike’. Because of her unapologetic mentality in refusing to conform to make herself small, it labeled her as difficult. Eleanor didn’t have many friends, but she always said: “I’d rather have four quarters than a hundred pennies,” and felt fulfilled. The people in her life that truly knew her, knew of her dreams and ambitions- and that she truly had a heart of gold. Not many others noticed, but Bucky did. He had always noticed how Eleanor could light up a room. She was the sun incarnate. So, when her mother ‘accidentally’ bumped into him on the street that morning and suggested he take her out tonight, he couldn’t refuse the idea. “So aside from enlisting,” Eleanor gestured towards his uniform with her free hand, since her other was interlocked around Bucky’s arm, “what else have you been up to since we graduated, Barnes?” She unconsciously gripped his forearm just a bit tighter, using physical touch to ground her from the unfamiliar nervousness she felt. “Sergeant Barnes,” he corrected with a grin. The pair moved from their sedentary spot in the carnival ticket line, only a few away from the booth. “Okay, Sergeant,” Eleanor reiterates, laughing to herself. “So?” she asks again, tilting her head to the side curiously and looking up at him through her lashes. “Boxed my way through art school. Then with all the boys gettin’ drafted, I just figured I’d sign up before Uncle Sam had the chance to come knockin’ on my door,” he recalled casually, but didn’t seem interested in talking about himself. Bucky’s arm disentangled with Eleanor’s, pressing his palm to the small of her lower back to coax her forward gently as the ticket line moved again. Her breath hitched slightly when he didn’t remove it right away, she eyed him up and down modestly.

His head tilted to the side, “What about you, Ellie?” his sapphire blue eyes holding her gaze, “What keeps you busy these days?”

Ellie. The nickname he uses makes her stomach drop, and they haven’t even gone on any rides yet. It’s a name he’s used off and on through school and over the years in passing. Her cheeks brighten with a new shade of light pink, breaking their fixed look at one another. Bucky takes notice and smiles fondly to himself.

“Um,” Eleanor forces herself to look back up at him, feeling at a loss for words as she tries not to focus so much on his beautiful smile- On how his slightly parted lips show the smallest hint of his white teeth. She didn’t think she’d be on a date tonight, let alone with someone that she’d been smitten with since grade school.

“I um,” her words were failing her for the first time ever, “I teach at the elementary school.” She hesitates a moment, before taking a breath and says, “to be honest, I’ve been waiting to get pulled into one of the factories.” Her voice now has a hint of sadness. Ellie quickly tries to deflect the subject, “Plus my brothers and sisters keep me pretty busy.” “Ah,” Bucky’s smile grows wider as his head tilts back at the recollection, also taking the hint, “and how are the little scoundrels?” Ellie laughs, thankful to have the relief of talking about herself put off. She shakes her head, “Still terrorizing anyone and everyone.” “Next!” Bucky reluctantly pulls his attention away from Ellie to step up to the ticket booth. “Two please,” he answers politely. As the worker counts his change, Bucky’s eyes couldn’t help but admire Ellie from head to toe. How she pointed one foot inward and fiddled with her fingers as she waited patiently with an imminent smile- admiring the sights and sounds of the fair around her. She was truly breathtaking.

There was no short supply of local attractive women. Bucky had dated plenty of them, and even more had shared his bed. They had always flocked to him, like a moth to a flame. It was a great stroke to his ego, but he was never taken with any of them. And none of them would have slammed a door in his face at the mere sight of him. Ellie though? She was something else entirely. He was always interested in what she had to say. The stories she told always captivated him and made him laugh. Being around her was easy and never forced. Even when they were kids, he found himself stealing glances and daydreaming about her. He had to make tonight mean something.

As Bucky had promised himself, he pulled out all the stops to impress Ellie. It wasn’t long before she eased back into her normal self, although she couldn’t ignore the butterflies constantly flittering along the lining of her belly. The two spent hours walking around the carnival, sharing treats like cotton candy and the biggest, most delicious cannoli they had ever had. Bucky learned fast, and kept suggesting riding the bigger rides, because he selfishly loved it when Ellie clung onto him when she got scared. And Ellie, never being one to back down, always said yes. Ellie eventually convinced Bucky to take a break from riding the tilt-a-whirl back-to-back after threatening him with seeing the pink cotton candy to make an appearance again. He reluctantly conceded, knowing that he would be missing her reaching out and holding onto him. He suggested they play some carnival games until she felt better. And from the way Ellie’s eyes lit up with excitement, Bucky knew it was a promising idea.

In the meantime, they threw darts to pop balloons, a few several types of ball toss, and a horse racing game. Bucky even got to show off his marksmanship at a rifle target booth, winning Ellie a brown teddy bear that she proudly carried around with her for the entirety of the evening. But the best part was the way they cheered each other on with every game. Bucky’s heart swelled each time he won, and Ellie would jump up and down in excitement for him. Even with the playful competitive banter back and forth, neither of them felt a bitter loss. It was starting to get late, and the fair would be shutting down soon. The only ride the two hadn’t ridden yet was the Ferris wheel. Saving the best for last. Standing in a decently extensive line, the pair continued on with the tradition of the night: sharing belly laugh filled stories about dates gone horribly wrong and glances that lingered just a little too long.

Bucky felt something being with Ellie that was completely unfamiliar. In a world that was currently plagued with such darkness, this was the first time in he didn’t know how long he didn’t feel it weigh on him. She rejuvenated his very soul. Bucky silently wished out into the universe that she felt the same about him. “Y’know Ellie, I have to admit,” Bucky tucked his hands into his pockets as he stared down at the dirt his shoe kicked up. “tonight’s been…Ellie?” As he looked up from the ground to meet those golden eyes, there was nothing. She was gone. “Ellie?” Bucky repeated, louder this time as he frantically scanned the large crowd. “Ellie!” He shouted through his funneled hands while standing on his toes. Bucky’s head was starting to spin with worst case scenarios when he suddenly caught a glimpse of her bright yellow dress. Off in a quiet corner next to the circus tent, Ellie was crouched down talking to a young boy. The boy wasn’t looking at her, but instead his head hung low as he stared at the ground, and he seemed… upset.

Although he was too far away to hear, Bucky watched the encounter intently. Ellie nodded gently as she spoke to him, gesturing with her free hand- but the boy still seemed unresponsive. A moment of silence passes between them, and then with a bright smile, Ellie holds up the brown teddy bear that Bucky had won her earlier. She makes the stuffed animal dance, wave its arms, and boop the boy on his nose- finally getting his attention and smile. Then she holds the bear out to him. Without hesitation, he snatches it into his arms and pulls it tight against his chest. The boy is now beaming and looks like he was swapped with a completely different child. He hugs Ellie before running off to another group of children, holding up and showing off the bear while they all exclaimed how lucky he was. Ellie smiled and waved as the boy ran off, remaining crouched down on the ground for a moment even after being alone. Standing up as she brushed off her dress and watched the boy, her expression changed to one with a sorrowful undertone as the boy and his friends ran off. Turning to walk back to the Ferris wheel line, her honey brown eyes locked with Bucky’s. Just the sight of him waiting on her, standing online looking tall, broad, and handsome in that uniform watching her made her cheeks blush and a small smile tug on her lips.

From Bucky’s point of view, time seemed to move in slow motion. The bottom of Ellie’s dress flowed out with each sway of her hips. Her curls gently bounced with each graceful step, despite the uneven fairgrounds. He forgot how to breathe the closer she approached.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Sarge.” Ellie says apologetically, joining Bucky back in the line. “It’s alright,” Bucky’s voice is soft from his throat being dry. The feeling is suddenly overwhelming, his hand has laid dormant for too long. Taking the risk of not being on a ride, he wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Everything okay?” Leaning her body into his, Ellie sighs, “that was one of my students. He got the news earlier this week that his father died in the war. Left behind a wife and three kids… I just-” taking in a deep breath to try and calm herself, she shakes her head, “I know we’ve heard this story a hundred times before, Buck. It just never gets any easier. And I’m so sorry about the bear. I just got caught up in wanting to make him feel better that I just, I-” it was obvious that her heart hurt for the boy as her voice started to crack as she rambled.

She was right, it never got easier to hear these stories. And it always hit that much closer to home when it was someone you knew that was affected. Bucky was unsure if it was the story of the boy, or seeing Ellie’s act of compassion, but there was an undeniable gnawing in his chest as well. “Hey…” he cooed gently, cupping her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, coaxing her to look at him. Ellie tilted her head, though reluctant to look into Bucky’s eyes. But when she did, she found those cerulean irises filled with an unfeigned understanding as he leaned in close, “just means I get to take you out again for a chance to win another one, doll.” Her breath hitched again, at both the close proximity and the idea of another date with Bucky. Her eyes drifted down to his lips briefly before she met his gaze once again. Instinctively, Ellie started to lean in closer- not caring who was around to witness her kiss Bucky Barnes in public.

Bucky mirrored Ellie’s motions, his tongue gently flicking against his lips as he leaned in also when- “Next!” The carnival worker called. The disappointment was evident on Bucky’s face as his lips clenched into a thin line and his eyes closed tightly. Ellie though, was the opposite. She grabbed Bucky’s hand, “C’mon, Sergeant!” she giggled, dragging him onto the ride. Yet again, her smile was contagious, and he immediately gave in. Settling into their car on the Ferris wheel, it quickly jerked and rocked as it started to spin. Ellie threw her arms straight up into the air, squealing in pure excitement. And Bucky watched- Watched as the wonder sparkled in Ellie’s eyes, how the glow of the fair’s lights accentuated her already mesmerizing features, but mainly, he was dying to know if those lips tasted like the most perfect red delicious apple since they were painted exactly like one.

“Anybody ever tell you that you have a staring problem, Sarge?” Bucky had to blink a couple of times to focus. The Ferris wheel car had stopped at the very top, Ellie had her chin propped on her fist, smiling up at him through her lashes. He shook his head, “I was just thinking,” Bucky moved in a little closer, reaching his arm around Ellie’s shoulders, “that you are the most fascinating woman I have ever met.” “He’s lost in a memory…” Ellie’s cheeks blushed, but she rolled her eyes, “oh stop. I bet that’s something you say to all the girls.” Fireworks started firing off into the sky, mirroring the evident spark between the two. “I don’t care what the hell has to be done! Get him out of it! Scramble him again if you have to!” Bucky’s nose scrunches as he smiles, his head tilted up slightly to look down at her, “no, no. My pickup lines are usually waaay cheesier.” He and Ellie both laugh in unison, muffled by the occasional loud pops of the fireworks. But the pair refused to look away from one another.

“But sir-” Leaning in, Bucky breathes in both the mixed carnival aromas and the beautiful floral scent that is Ellie’s perfume. Her eyes flutter close as her lips purse towards his- “I. Don’t. CARE! Do it! NOW!” [2013] Bucky is met with a swift, vigorous slap to the face. Blinking rapidly, his eyes painfully adjust to the fluorescent lights in the room. Once focused, he finds numerous pairs of hard eyes staring down at him. Bucky sheepishly looks down at his bare chest, flexing painfully against the tight restraints of his chair. The realization that it was in fact not 1943 and not his first date with Ellie was quickly confirmed by the surrounding HYDRA agents, all staring at him like he was some wild animal waiting to snap and tear through a village.

Although in retrospect, he may have done that once or twice. And secretly, he never minded having HYDRA blood on his hands. If that wasn’t confirmation enough, the skin on his left shoulder was taut- the built-up scar tissue irritated from the roughened edges of his metal arm. God, how he hated that fucking thing. Sure, getting used to any kind of prosthetic takes time to accept- if at all. But this was used with the sole purpose of turning Bucky into a weapon, and for that reason, he hated it and everything it stood for. At least, when he could remember. Which is why he was always restrained. Which is why he was brainwashed over and over again until he forgot his name. Which is why he was thrown on ice when he wasn’t of use, so they didn’t have to hear his endless screaming as he tore and ripped at the skin, praying it would be tarnished enough that they couldn’t make him a new arm. But they always made him a new arm.

Alexander Pierce stepped out from between a few of the agents, clad in an expensive gray suit that stood out against the sea of all black military grade HYDRA uniforms. “Where’d you go?” he asked nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pockets. It’s not like he was genuinely curious about anything that didn’t pertain to his own interests. Bucky’s brow furrowed, his eyes glancing briefly in Pierce’s direction before looking down again, “n-nowhere…” he replied apprehensively, always cautious about giving personal details when he remembered them. Pierce huffed sarcastically under his breath. A smirk tugged on his lips as his eyes narrowed on Bucky, “wipe him,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “we’ll start fresh again tomorrow.” He wasn’t even fully done speaking before he spun on the heels of his dress shoes and was out the door.

The mechanical whirring from the machines surrounding Bucky’s now reclined chair grew antagonizingly loud. He could feel his lips uncontrollably twitch- and it took everything within his remaining willpower not to snarl as he reluctantly accepted the mouth guard the agent forced onto his teeth. Bucky’s chest already glistened with sweat as it heaved deeply, anxious for what was to come. His eyes widened at the sight of the all too familiar chrome halo that soon clasped securely around his head. He braced himself for the pain of his mind feeling like it was on literal fire by breathing around the mouthpiece and digging his heels. At least today, he remembered Ellie. Bucky just focused on the pure, rare beauty that she was sitting on top of the Ferris wheel that night- smiling at him like he was the only man in the world. Until it all went black. [Present Day]

He wasn’t sure if it was the sounds of his own screams or flailing around in his sleep that woke him from his nightmare. Or rather, memory. Bucky sat upright from the living room floor, tangled up in his blanket. His eyes traced the room, taking in the primarily dark apartment aside from the faint glow of the television. He felt hot, despite only sleeping in his boxers and his skin shining with a thick layer of sweat. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, even though he desperately took in quick, ragged breaths. Bucky felt so lost, even though he had been found. Even with being free of HYDRA and breaking from the control that anyone could have over him after spending time in Wakanda, he didn’t feel as though anyone truly knew him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure who he was after it all was stripped away. The only people who understood Bucky were Steve and Ellie, and they’re both gone. A small ‘meow’ came from Bucky’s side, making her presence known before gently rubbing her head against his thigh. Well, maybe there was one who understood him.

Letting out the pent-up air in his lungs, Bucky picked up the petite white cat and cradled her against his chest, “Sorry, pretty girl,” he actively softened his voice, “did I wake you?” He gently ran his hand over her head and down her neck, immediately pulling purrs from Alpine. He sighed to himself but continued to concentrate on petting her as his accelerated heart rate started to come back down. Alpine’s purrs grew louder as she started making biscuits against his thighs, making herself nice and comfy before drifting to sleep in his lap. At least one of us will be able to sleep tonight.

As expected, he didn’t fall back asleep. Instead, Bucky replayed the distant clashing memories over and over in his head until the sun started peeking through the windows. At the break of dawn, he jumped into the shower in hopes of washing the night away. As Bucky stood in the shower, letting the tiny streams of water encase around him, he realized just how much he missed his old life. That version of him and how often his mind drifted to a time where he used to belong. In that moment, he decided he was going to use today to go to his old stomping grounds, reminisce and allow himself to truly grieve that part of his life.

Throwing on a pair of dark wash jeans, a grey T-shirt and a black leather jacket, Bucky locked the door to his apartment and made his way through The Compound. Leaning against the wall near the entrance was Loki, seemingly keeping to himself. He noticed Bucky though as soon as he stalked into view. His skin looked pale, his blue eyes dull and lifeless above the prominent dark circles underneath. Bucky’s nightmares and lack of sleep were something that the team was all too familiar with. They each collectively had their own demons that haunted dark rooms and spoke through the walls in the lonely hours late at night. “Isn’t it just a tad early,” Loki stood to his full height, “to seem this aloof already, James?” Bucky regarded Loki as he kept walking. “Yeah,” his earnest tone matching his gloomy mood as the door automatically opened.

The bright, warm sun was a stark contrast to the cold, dark night that Bucky just had.

Standing at the edge of a small, curved road in the park that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge, Bucky took in all the sights and sounds. It was strange to him how much the city had evolved and yet, some things were still the same. People passed, not paying him any mind. Friends gossiped over their morning coffee on a nearby bench, the runners attempted to get that last mile in before the day got too hot, couples walked by holding hands, and families pushed large strollers with smiley babies. It all sounded the same, but nothing was as it used to be. The intrusive thoughts felt heavier today as he continued to watch and take it all in, reminiscing about the times he and Steve used to drink beers at the bottom of that very bridge. Or rather, Bucky would try and convince Steve to drink. But he never did. Bucky and his sister used to play in this very park- though it looks different now. It sometimes was still difficult to differentiate what was a memory or a daydream he had conjured up to disassociate.

"Vader!" If he squinted his eyes just enough, he could see where his family's old town home used to stand in the distance before it was bulldozed down. "No! Don't- You're going to make me-" The sound of a heavy thud made Bucky look over his shoulder. On the ground a few feet behind him was a small cardboard box with the top cut off, lying on its side. Scattered all around and halfway in the box, was an assortment of wildflowers. "Damn it, Vader!" An annoyed voice grumbled before sighing heavily.

Giving the apparent mess a once over, Bucky breathed deeply through his nostrils before turning around and taking a knee- putting the box right side up before starting to subtly pick up the flowers. "Sit!" The sound of nails scratching against the asphalt came to a stop, only to be replaced with heavy panting. Bucky glanced over briefly to see a rather large German Shepherd watching proudly as he picked up the flowers. "God, thank you so much for your help! I'm just having one of those days. No thanks to this one here either." The woman's voice sounded slightly exasperated.

"No problem," Bucky replied, trying to look up but the sun blared straight into his eyes, momentarily blocking the person with whom he was speaking. After picking up the last few flowers, he tossed them into the box as he stood up. His height gave him the advantage of no longer having the sun in his face and he finally was able to see the person he's been interacting with. Bucky stops breathing- eyes widening in disbelief. Eleanor. It was her, and yet it wasn't. Her skin was evenly tanned, her golden hair long with a slight wave to it framing her face, dressed in matching yoga pants and sports tank as she clung tightly to the dog’s leash to keep him in place. "I spent my whole morning picking those," she gestured towards the box, "and this lunatic has been dragging me everywhere in between," she explains, embarrassed. Bucky is still staring, just blinking occasionally, skeptical that this is real.

Clearing her throat softly at what she perceived to be awkwardness, she picks up the box. "Thanks again!" she remarked politely, starting to turn away to leave. "W-what-" Bucky started, causing her to hesitate. He took a small step forward, "are those for?" he pointed to the box. It was the first thing that came to his mind, he had to keep her there for just a little while longer. He needed to know more. Smiling as she turned back to face him, Bucky's stomach twisted. It's the same smile. "I'm a teacher and anytime I'm here I grab some for my students," she shrugged nonchalantly. "I can usually come up with some kind of craft or whatever to make use of them." "You're a teacher?" "Mhm! Elementary." Down to the same damned occupation. "You... come here often? With your dog?" Bucky awkwardly motioned towards the German Shepherd. "Oh, um... Well," She laughed. Oh no. He feared that his question made her uncomfortable. "This is Vader," she runs her hand over the dog's head a few times, "but he's not mine. Just watching him for some friends while they're away."

Bucky looks over Vader, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile before fixating on the woman again. "I'm sorry, " she starts, her eyes narrowing slightly as her head tilts in inquisition, "but do I know you? You just look so familiar..." He swallowed the large lump in his throat, "Uh, no? Nope, I don't think so." "Huh," she muttered to herself, continually examining his blue eyes. Clearing her throat, she holds out her hand "I'm Elena, but my friends call me Ellie." Taking her petite hand in his gloved one, he carefully shakes her hand. "Ellie," Bucky repeats, incredulously. "James, but my friends call me Bucky." "Bucky." Elena mirrors his tone. Her eyes drift down to his chest momentarily, spotting his dog tags. "And you're military?" A small snort escapes as he grins, "former Sergeant in the 107th." "Interesting," Ellie responded, continuing to search his crystal blue eyes as if it would magically reveal as to why she felt magnetized by this man's presence. Looking down, Bucky realized they were still holding onto one another's hand. His eyebrows raised, an amused smile eclipsing his former expression. The pair chuckled once, letting go. "Well," Ellie said, fidgeting with the dog leash in her hands, "It was nice meeting you. Thanks again," her voice sheepish as she shifted the cardboard box under her arm. "Nice meeting you too, Ellie," Bucky agreed. There was something about the way he said her name, how smoothly it rolled off his tongue that just felt so... intimate. Like he did in fact know her. That there was a secret between them that she was dying to know. Giving him a hopeful smile, she turned to walk away- Vader following at her side, "Hope to see you around, Sergeant!" Ellie called over her shoulder, giving a small wave.

Bucky watched Elena walking away, left utterly astounded by the interaction that had just occurred. Two images from two separate times seemed to overlap- Ellie from today, and Ellie with the tight curls and red lips in the yellow polka dot dress. A form of Deja vu. But one thing was for sure, he made it his mission to see her again.

Later that evening at The Compound, Bucky stood at the counter in the kitchen holding a small drinking glass filled with ice and whiskey. The recent encounter from this morning consumed him and all of his thoughts. Which is why he didn’t notice Loki casually walk into the kitchen as well. Loki found this to be peculiar, since Bucky was the type to at least give an acknowledging scowl. “Penny for your thoughts?” Loki inquired, his voice low. Bucky swirled the ice in the glass before peeking up at him, “I had something… strange happen to me today.” “Oh?” “I uh-” Bucky sighed, putting the glass down a little harder than intended. “I swear I bumped into someone from my past. But it makes no sense. She would have to be, what? Over a hundred years old? It was her but it wasn’t her.” His hands expressed the bafflement he felt through their motions.

“You’re over a hundred, James.” Loki reminded. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, “yeah, I know.” He asserted. “But this was different. I don’t know how to explain it.” “Hmm.” Loki hummed to himself, looking over Bucky. Taking a step forward, extending out his hand out, “show me.” “Show you?” Bucky retorted, disgruntled by the question. “And just how would I do that?” Loki grinned, “I was raised by Witches, boy. There are many things I can see that people don’t understand.” Without waiting for an answer, Loki took Bucky’s flesh hand and pressed it flat between his. “What are you-” “Shh!” Loki planted his feet firmly, looking into Bucky’s eyes- which widened with concern. What would Loki see looking into his mind? His memories? Would he recount the same faces and what he’d done to them that haunt Bucky every single night? He suddenly felt overwhelmed with anxiety. Bucky stared back at Loki- his normal cobalt blue eyes started to glow a bright green. “Ah,” Loki breathed, “found it.” Flashbacks of today as well as the carnival shared between the two as a birds-eye view, like watching Bucky’s memories as if they were a movie. “Tell me, James,” Loki smirked while watching the images, “do you know what reincarnation is?” “What? Like being born again?” Bucky spat, feeling ridiculous. Loki laughed, “I’m afraid it’s much more in depth than people think.” Bucky raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain further. “Rare is it that one is given such an opportunity.” Loki breathed, astounded.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sighs, “What the fuck are you even trying to say here, Loki?” “I’m saying,” he kept his voice low, trying to maintain patience, “that this universe somehow deemed you worthy of a second chance… with your soulmate.” “Soulmate?!” Bucky’s voice was loud, incredulous. “I haven’t seen this before,” Loki answered, fascinated at the scenes playing before them, “A soul brought back in the same lifetime to make up for time lost. Destiny can be a finicky thing.” “You’re saying that we were meant to be together all those years ago?” Bucky swallowed hard, his stomach twisting inward on itself. “Yes. And decisions made that weren’t your own affected that outcome. You’ve been given the opportunity to actually live out your true fate.” The eerie green glow faded from Bucky’s eyes as Loki pulled his hands away. He saw many things but decided to only show Bucky what pertained to this conversation. The screams already a sound he knew he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. The two always had a mutual understanding of each other. They typically got along, more so than the rest of the team. Their history often left preconceived tension with people, but they never judged one another. Just themselves. “So,” Bucky scratched the back of his head, “what do I do now?” “You, my friend,” Loki gripped Bucky’s shoulder, “go get a happy ending.”

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year

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Chapter 12- I Love You. I Know.

Summary: As the end of October approaches, you and Javi learn more about celebrating Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos together. After a sleepless night, and a Halloween party at the Murphy's, Javi begins to open up to you about his past.

Word Count: 15.6K (I'm sweating)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, semi-public sex (Oh the poor Murphy's...), PTSD/Anxiety around grief, loss and Javi's past, some angst/tension, mentions of drinking/being drunk (Steve is getting PLASTERED), mentions of food/eating, SO MANY STAR WARS REFERENCES, literally this chapter made me sob while I was writing it, editing it, and re-reading it, I am SO sorry

A/N: You guys. Holy shit. This chapter really had me in my feels. This chapter was def a labor of love, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!! Thank you for as always for all you kind words, you truly, truly, TRULY have no idea how much your support means to me 😭💖 Also please don't kill me after you finish reading this chapter I PROMISE *things* are happening so soon I can literally taste it, but I needed for this chapter to happen first, and you would be silly to think that *things* didn't get its own whole ass chapter and I am just as excited as you AH

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The excitement of October’s conclusion was in the air, and the joys of getting to celebrate what you hoped would be the first of many holidays with Javi was at the forefront of your mind. While the end of summer meant school was here and your carefree days were gone until next June, October meant it was time for one of your favorite holidays- Halloween. It was one of your most cherished things to celebrate as a kid, and even still as an adult. The memories of jumping into leaf piles off your swingset with your brothers, dressing up in goofy, homemade costumes to trick-or-treat (because your mom was not about to buy 4 new sets of costumes every single year), carving pumpkins, and stealing as many of your brother’s Kit Kat bars as you could without getting caught, filled your heart with a warmth and joy that you couldn’t quite describe. While the 80 degree temperatures and lack of bright reds and yellows painted across the leaves falling from their trees was much different from the Chicago Octobers you were accustomed to, it hadn’t stopped you from heading full steam into Halloween.

“So do you have any thoughts on what we should be for Steve and Connie’s? I have no problem going out to buy stuff for costumes, but I can already hear my mom yelling at me for wasting my money on cheaply made clothes I’m gonna wear for 5 hours when I have something perfectly good in my closet.” You rolled your eyes as you shuffled through the hangers, Javi sitting on the edge of your bed folding the laundry you were working on putting away.

The two of you had gladly accepted the invitation from Steve and Connie to spend the weekend with them in San Antonio, as the Murphy’s planned to host a Halloween party at their house for their friends and co-workers, giving you and Javi a chance to have a fun weekend out of town together.

“Hmmmm?” He asked, looking up at you as you grabbed a few shirts, examining them for costume potential. “We’re dressing up for this thing?”

“Yeah, that’s like, the whole point of Halloween, dummy.” You giggled, throwing a few options on the floor before making your way over to your pants. “Didn’t you dress up as a kid for Halloween?”

Unlike yourself, Javi had spent his whole life celebrating Día de los Muertos, Halloween having nowhere near as much relevance to him as it did to you, spending the end of October and first days of November gathering with his family to spend the day making Pan de Muerto (Day of the Dead sweet bread), watching the parades on the streets of Downtown Laredo before visiting the cemetery where his grandparents were buried, decorating their graves in cempasúchil (marigold flowers), candles and photographs with his primos (cousins). Since his mom had passed, Javi hadn’t been home to celebrate with his family, and had almost forgone the tradition completely during his time in Colombia, the pain and loss of his mother and the solemn sadness of celebrating alone leading him to try his best to forget about the holiday all together.

“Uh, no, not, not really. Didn’t really do Halloween, isn’t really as much of a thing down here. My family always celebrated Día de Los Muertos instead.” He replied, almost embarrassed by his answer, not wanting to damper your excitement as you dug through your closet for costumes.

Your heart sank to your stomach, feeling awful that you hadn’t even taken into consideration that Javi's traditions around this time of year were completely different from what you were used to. The two of you had never really talked about how you wanted to celebrate future holidays, and always had wanted to make sure that the important parts of your lives were celebrated equally. Javi hadn’t said anything after you had spent the past few days putting up Halloween decorations around your apartment, and now you felt like an idiot assuming he had spent his whole life celebrating just like you.

“Oh… Shit. Javi, I’m so sorry, if you don’t wanna do costumes, we don’t have to, you just hadn’t said anything about Día de Los Muertos so I just assumed that-”

“Baby, it’s okay.” He pushed himself up off the bed, the width of his broad palms wrapping around your hips, trying to ease the guilt he could tell was rapidly consuming you. “You’re right, I never told you about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything to celebrate it, and I haven’t been home for it since I’ve gotten back from Colombia. I just- I don’t really know how to feel about it, I guess. The last time I did anything for it was before my mom died. I was never able to bring myself to do anything about it while I was gone, and I guess now I just feel really shitty that was the way I decided to handle it.” It broke your heart to see the pain in his eyes, pulling yourself closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his stomach, leaning your head against his chest. It was then, the realization had hit you too- This would be your first year of holidays without Patrick. You didn’t know as much as you would have liked to about Día de Los Muertos, but you did know that it was to celebrate the lives of loved ones you’d lost, a feeling that you and Javi were both all too familiar with.

“Listen…” You raised your head, looking up at him, arms still intertwined around his waist. “I don’t- I don’t wanna make you do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. I guess this is the first time we’ve ever really talked about this kind of stuff. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Jav, and that means celebrating the things that are special to both of us. The things that are important to you are important to me too. I want our lives for us, for our future family, to be filled with all the things we care the most about, whether that means keeping old traditions or making our own new ones. It would mean a lot to me to get to celebrate Día de los Muertos with you, and if it’s okay, I would love to sprinkle in some Halloween too, because I’m fucking dying to carve a pumpkin.”

You smiled up at him as his hand slid under your jaw, his thumb tracing across your cheek as he tried his best to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. It took everything in him to not ruin his plans, wanting to run into the bedroom, grab the ring out of his sock drawer and propose to you that very instant. Even after all this time, Javi still couldn't believe that he was the person you wanted to share the rest of your life with. That you wanted to intertwine your past, present, and future with his, to have a life, a family, together that the two of you could cherish forever. Never in a million years had he assumed he’d be anywhere close to where he was today, holding the world’s most beautiful, perfect woman in his arms, as she told him how she wanted nothing more than to build a family and spend the rest of her days with him.

“Osita… I fucking love you so much, you know that?” He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and deep kiss, your heart racing as he pulled you in tighter.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess, just a little bit…” You giggled, poking fun at him, considering not a day had passed since the first night he had said it that Javi hadn’t told you just how much he loved you.

“Shut up, you dork.” He chuckled, making you squeal as he picked you up, playfully shaking you in his grasp before setting you back down. “I’d love nothing more, Hermosa. I don’t know how the fuck you’re supposed to carve a pumpkin or what the hell you have planned for these costumes, but I’m all in. I want it all with you, Osita. Thank you.”

“Of course. For as much or as little as you want to do for Día de los Muertos, I’m all in too. I’m gonna be honest, I love Hallowen. Not as much as Christmas, but it’s a close second. It means you’re gonna have to trust me with a giant ass knife and cover yourself in pumpkin guts, though.”

“My trust is quickly starting to fade. Seriously though, what the hell are we supposed to dress up as?” He raised an eyebrow at you, nodding over to the pile of clothes you had pulled from your closet, now piled on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some ideas.”

The weeks leading up to the holidays had made for fun at home date nights, the both of you genuinely looking forward to learning about the traditions you had both held so dear to your hearts. Almost every night after work, you had done something to celebrate the events leading up to the day. You had shown Javi a few of your favorite Halloween movies, including It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Beetlejuice, and Ghostbusters, very adamantly insisting to him that those movies were about as scary as you were going to get, blaming your brothers for scarring you after forcing you to watch The Exorcist at the ripe age of 7 years old. In addition to the movies, you had told him about other funny Trick-Or-Treating stories from your childhood, Javi’s favorite being how your brothers, (being the ruthless idiots they were) paid one of their friends in all of their halloween candy to jump out of a bush dressed as a terrifying old lady to scare the absolute shit out of you, and making you quite literally pee your pants. In return Javi shared his favorite memories of cooking in the kitchen with his mom as she made Pan de Muertos for his family, the two of you even attempting to make it one of the nights after work, milling about the kitchen together as Javi told you about his family you had yet to meet, or had passed away long before you.

After a lengthy hunt, you were able to find pumpkins, bringing them to Chucho’s house to carve them since you had nowhere to put them inside your apartment. You offered him the rest of your Pan de Muertos in exchange for a place to work on your pumpkins, and while he gladly accepted the bread, the three of you knew Chucho was always happy to have you and Javi over, regardless.

“So tell me, mija,” Chucho spoke in between mouthfuls of sweet bread, rocking back and forth in his chair, “is there a meaning behind carving the pumpkins, or is it just for fun?”

“Just for fun! Okay, it looks like we’re ready, you want me to show you how to do it, or just let you go for it?” You smiled at Javi, the two of you sitting cross legged on Chucho’s porch, pumpkins open in front of you.

“You just scoop them out, right?” Javi questioned, looking into the pumpkin with an unsure grimace. “It seems like there's a lot in here, Osita. I have to get all of it out?”

“Yeah, or else you can’t see the design when you carve it. C’mon you big baby, just stick your hand in there and pull the guts out!” You laughed, digging your hand into your pumpkin, scooping out hearty globs of pumpkin guts, slopping them into the bucket Chucho had set out for you. Reluctantly, Javi joined, you and Chucho both absolutely dying at Javi’s face as his hand met the squishy fibers inside his pumpkin.

“Jesus, that feels fucking gross!” He laughed, shaking his head as he threw some of the seeds and strings into the trash next to him.

“You need me to do it for you?” You giggled, flicking a pumpkin seed at him as he winced with the second handful he pulled out.

“No, cabrón (asshole), I can do it.” Javi grumbled as he rolled his eyes at you, the both of you scooping hearty handfuls of goop.

“You hear that, Chucho? Calling me an asshole because he’s too scared to pull out pumpkin guts.” You looked back at his dad, giving him a playful grin, his smile already wide from the enjoyment of watching the two of you. With your back turned to Javi, you hadn’t noticed the small handful of seeds he had collected in his hand, lining up his arm to aim right at the back of your head. “I can’t believe that- HEY!” You whipped your neck around, running your hand over the back of your neck, picking seeds and strings out of your hair, seeing Javi snicker to himself as your jaw dropped open in shock. “Did you seriously just throw pumpkin guts at me?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, must have been a ghost.” He shrugged, smirking to himself before digging his hand back into his pumpkin.

“You see this?!” You looked back at Chucho, pointing your finger at Javi, pretending to be stern, although your laughter quickly escaped. “Absolutely ridiculous, I swear.”

“Javier, that is no way to treat your future esposa! (Wife) No quiero mis nietos ser cubierto en calabaza! Me encantáran en cualquier caso, pero todavía! (I don’t want my future grandchildren covered in pumpkin! I will love them either way, but still!)” Chucho scolded with a smirk, you and Javi silently smiling to each other at the thought of one day doing this with your own children. Javi had tried to stop fighting off his dad’s comments about grandkids a while ago- Chucho knew just as well as the two of you that he would have his grandchildren soon enough.

“Ella lo pído… (She asked for it…)” Javi muttered under his breath, shooting his gaze up at you as he felt cold goop hit the side of his cheek, wiping the pumpkin you had just thrown at him off with the back of his hand, watching you smirk silently to yourself as you continued to scoop out your pumpkin.

“Ahora… Estamos a mano. (And now… We’re even.)”

The 3 of you chatted on the porch, the sky now painted a dark black, filled with twinkling constellations above as you finished carving your pumpkins. Yours, a cute ghost with a little smiley face, and Javi’s, what he had tried to convince you and Chucho was also a ghost, even though it looked more like he had just carved a squiggly hole in the middle of his. It took a little prodding and convincing, but as you all talked about how the Peña family had spent many a Día de los Muertos, you and Chucho were able to get Javi to agree to go visit his mom’s gravesite on the Sunday after you got back from Steve and Connie’s party. Chucho had even promised to keep his tias, tios, and primos (aunts, uncles, and cousins) completely out of the picture this year, wanting to give Javi all the time and space he needed to go see his mom for the first time since her funeral. He was reluctant at first, riddled with the guilt of leaving her unvisited all these years, but as he felt the gentle squeeze of your hand, your silent reassurance was all he needed to know that you would be by his side, every step of the way. As you said your goodbyes, Chucho hugged you just a little extra tighter than normal, as if to thank you for everything you had done for his son, and just how thankful he was to have you in his life, too.

Even though the Murphy’s had very graciously offered to let you and Javi stay on Friday night as well as Saturday, both Steve and Connie very much understood when you had told them on the phone that the only thing that you wanted to do after coming home from the chaos of managing an elementary school Halloween party was take a very, very long nap. You and Javi had spent the night ordering pizza and watching Young Frankenstein, only lasting about 20 minutes into the movie before you were dead asleep, snoring against Javi’s chest, still dressed in If You Give A Mouse A Cookie costume from earlier today. Carrying you to bed and undressing you from your mouse ears and oversized overalls, Javi curled into bed next to you, pulling your body against his as he stared at the ceiling. Despite how hard he tried to fall asleep, he laid there, wide awake as ever, as his head raced with the tornado of thoughts brewing inside his brain.

Javier Peña had never really considered himself to be an anxious person. For most of his life, he couldn’t be. For the sake of his job, the sake of his family after his Mom passed, Javi had survived the only way he had known how- Block it out, and ignore it. And so far, that strategy had seemed to bode for him pretty darn well. But that was before he had anyone who depended on him, cared about him, anyone who made his life worth living for. That was before he had met you. Now, Javi found himself at the crossroads of a moment he had been waiting for since the moment he had first laid eyes on you. Something that brought him absolute joy and sheer terror at the same time- Javier Peña was going to propose to you, and he was an anxious fucking mess.

If that in itself wasn’t enough, things at the Laredo County Sheriff's Department had been an absolute shit show. Mexico was the only thing on anyone’s radar, making for long days and high tension at the office, trying to do anything to slow the spread of the cartel’s influence across the border. Day after day, report after report, it felt like the department was drowning in the endless shitty news of new death tolls, record breaking trafficking stats, and lack of control as cocaine moved across the Rio Grande at a groundbreaking pace. Even though he found himself even further removed from Mexico than he ever was in Colombia, he couldn’t help but feel that painful, searing wrench in his gut when he sat down to really think about it.

You.

Spending your lives together.

Having a family.

Protecting his wife and kids.

The things he would do to keep you safe.

The terrible things he had done he had justified were keeping other people safe.

The imagines of the things he wish he could unsee.

The pain and hurt he wished he could take back.

The fear of what he was capable of doing.

So with a knot in his chest from work, a ring hidden away in his sock drawer, and the beginnings of a plan to ask the woman he loved more than life itself to marry him, Javi coped with the weight of his stress the only way he knew how. He couldn’t fucking sleep.

The thoughts played in his mind on repeat, torturing him with every loop around his brain. He tried his best to close his eyes, to empty his head for a moment of peace, but no matter how much he wished he could have willed himself to sleep, it was no use. By the time the alarm clock on his nightstand read 2:05 AM, Javi had completely given up on the idea of rest for the night, quietly making his way out of bed to go wander around the living room. It wasn’t long before you too were also awake, rolling over in your sleep to find Javi’s space in the bed cold and empty. Rubbing your eyes and propping yourself up against your pillow, you scanned around the darkness of your room as you came to, realizing that Javi was nowhere to be found. Draping one of the blankets from your bed over you, you crept into the hallway, greeted by the soft light of one of the living room lamps painting shadows against the wall.

“Javi, are you up?” Your voice still soft and sleepy, rubbing your hand along your face, squinting from the sudden brightness that lit up the room.

“Osita, baby, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry. Go back to bed, okay?” Javi shot up from the couch, setting down whatever book he had been half focused on reading as he watched your bed headed figure meander into the living room.

“No, it’s okay.” You grumbled, holding out your blanket covered arms for Javi to melt his body into yours, wrapping you in a tight hug. You pressed your head into the bare skin of his chest, snaking your hands around his waist as he planted his lips against the the top of your head, burying his nose in your tangled hair. “Baby, what’s going on? Why can’t you sleep? I’m worried about you, Jav.”

“I’m… Yeah, I’m okay, Hermosa. Just a lot on my mind.” He sighed, his exhale still buried in your hair as he savored the smell of you, still lingering even in your sleepy state.

His pause alone was enough to know okay wasn’t the word that you would use to describe Javi right now. His words were burdened and fatigued, making it clear that whatever was on his mind was weighing on him more heavily than he wanted to admit.

“Are you sure? Javi, if you wanna talk about anything, you know I’m always here, right?”

You wanted so desperately to pry. Everything in you had a feeling that whatever was keeping him up were entangled in the parts of his dark parts past, the last secrets holding up the final wall between the two of you. You knew from your brothers how hard it was to talk about the pain and suffering they had witnessed, and begging them to talk about it before they were ready only seemed to make it worse. Hell, after Patrick died, it felt like you didn’t sleep for weeks, and it had taken you months to open up about it. You knew Javi hurt, and as much as you wanted to, digging deeper into the things that plagued him in his restless nights wasn’t what he needed right now. Right now, he just needed someone to be there for him.

“Is there anything I can do, Javi? I just wanna help.” The breath of your sympathetic whispers were hot against Javi’s skin, squeezing your arms to pull him as close to you as he could. He paused for a moment, letting out another deep breath as cradled the back of your head with his palm, running his hands through your hair.

“Will- Will you stay up with me? Just a little bit longer?” His voice trembled as you turned your head to lock your eyes with his, the gentle nod of your head bringing him a moment of relief.

“Of course, baby. Of course I’ll stay up with you. Do you wanna turn on the TV or put on a movie? Sometimes that helps me sleep.” You stretched your arms over your head, scrunching your face as you yawned before tugging your blanket tighter around your body.

“Believe me, Hermosa, I know it does.” He let out a soft chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Oh shit, yeah that is true. I don’t even think I made it halfway through Young Frankenstein tonight, which is a crime. It’s such a good movie. I don’t even remember getting into bed.” You yawned again, this time taking one of your blanket covered fists to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake.

“Well, if you give a mouse pizza and a movie after a long day at school, then she’ll probably need her boyfriend to carry her to bed because she’s so tired.” Now awake enough, Javi’s cute jab at your costume for school made you let out a little giggle, giving him a little shove with your blanket wrapped body. “Why don’t we turn the rest of it on, so you can finish watching?”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you, Javi.” You grumbled, pouting up at him, considering he had just asked you to stay awake with him.

“It’s okay. As long as I have you by me, I’ll be alright, I promise.” Reluctantly, you nodded in agreement, plopping yourself on the couch as Javi turned on the TV, rewinding the VHS tape to the point where you had fallen asleep earlier before joining you, draping his arm around your shoulder as you tucked in your knees and scooted closer to him. You sat for a few minutes in silence, letting the sounds of the movie fill the background. As you turned your head to look up at Javi, you could tell that even though his eyes were pointed at the screen, there was no way he was really watching the movie. Reaching up your hand, you ran your fingers across the length of his strong jaw, his stubble scratching against your palm, forcing him to look back at you. Your eyes met his, the sweet, chocolate brown looking back at you, with a confusing mix of exhaustion, guilt, want and helplessness. You brought your face closer to his, your lips now only inches apart as your whispers danced against his mouth, desperate to find something to ease his pain.

“What do you need, Javi? Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

His tongue swept against his bottom lip, taking one last shaky breath before his words left his body with his exhale.

“You. I need you.”

His hands found their way to the bare skin of your thighs, his fingertips barely brushing against your flesh as he traced his way up to your torso, toying with the hem of one of his shirts that always looked so much better on you than him. Pressing his palm against the soft curves of your stomach, he tugged at the waistband of your sleep shorts, causing you to shift your body so he could slide them down your legs. Reaching over towards his lap, you grasped at his boxers, feeling him already half hard under the fabric as you rubbed your hand against him. Javi held your hips, slowly guiding you to straddle him as you kicked your shorts off your feet, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Slowly, you began to grind deeper into his lap, the feeling of him now fully hard beneath you. Gently prompting you to raise your arms over your head, Javi lifted your shirt, leaving you bare as he dropped it next to your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Javi rasped, pressing languid kisses against your neck and collarbone as you ran your hands against the width of his broad shoulders.

“Of course, baby.” Your reply low and horse as you began to drag the fabric of his boxers lower and lower, finally letting his cock spring free as his waistband pushed past. You brought your palm to your mouth, licking a long, wet strip across it before wrapping it around his length, thumbing over the precum already leaking from his tip. Javi tilted his head against the back of the couch as you twisted your wrist, stroking his cock, letting out a hushed moan before sitting back up to watch you.

“You’re fucking perfect, Osita. I don’t deserve you.” He dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your ass, his sweet, brown eyes locked on yours as you pressed against him, nibbling at his ear.

“You deserve everything, Javi. I could give you everything in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Javi grasped at your face, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss, his voice shaky and lustful as his mouth parted with yours before he spoke.

“I don’t need anything besides you, Osita. Eres mi todo. Estás todo lo que necesito. (You are my everything. You’re all I’ll ever need.) He shuttered, letting out a low groan as you continued to rub your hand along his length, Javi now reaching down to trace lazy circles around your clit before dipping his fingers inside your wet heat. His fullness made you whimper, wrapping tighter around his cock as you stroked him, now bucking your hips against his hand as his fingers curled, bumping against the spongy spot that made you lose control. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so wet.

“Mhmmmmm.” You gasped, rapidly nodding your head as his digits pulsed inside you, your cunt already drenched, desperate to feel the fullness of his dick, despite the thickness of his fingers. Carefully, you lifted your hips, moving yourself closer to him as you ran your fingers through the soft ends of his sleepy curls. Sitting up on your knees, Javi removed his hand as he watched you hover over him, his palms roaming to your hips as you guided his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before lining him up with your entrance. His jaw went slack as you lowered down on to him, taking your time as you savored the stretch of every sweet inch until you had bottomed out at his base.

“Fuckkk, baby.” He mewled, gently guiding his hands against your hips as you dragged yourself up along his length before headfully sinking back down, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix with each movement. Javi nipped at your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down your collarbone before stopping at your breasts, flicking this tongue along each of your pebbled nipples as you pushed deeper into his lap, whimpering at his touch. “My sweet girl, always taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me, baby. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Javi pulled you in tighter, caging his chest against yours as his arms wrapped around the small of your back as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” His words were desperate and needy against your bare skin, digging your fingers into his dark curls as you swirled your hips around his cock.

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.” You moaned as felt Javi shift his weight, thrusting upwards as he buried himself deep inside you. His fullness had you digging your nails into the nape of his neck, your body melting into his with each push and pull against each other. You could feel the all too familiar tingle creeping up your legs and through the base of your spine as Javi’s hand found its way to circle around your clit, already throbbing as the curled hair around his base brushed against your sensitive nerves. The lewd noises of your moans and tangled bodies drowned out the sounds of the TV behind you, practically hearing how wet you were as Javi cock slipped in and out of your heat, his pace pounding as he punched into you. You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, arousal pooling in your belly, Javi knowing you were close as you whimpered into the crook of his neck. “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Cum for me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Javi’s fingers rubbed faster along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone.

“Javi, Javi- fuck- Javi, Jav-ahhhhhh.” You could feel yourself gush around him, crying out his name as you reached your high, your legs shaking and fingers digging into his skin, pleasure flowing through your veins.

“That’s it, Hermosa. Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too, fuck myself so deep inside you. My perfect girl. Mierda- Quiero que seas mío para siempre, mi amor. Solo tú, por siempre y para siempre. (Shit- I want you to be mine forever, my love. Only you, forever and always). Fuck me, I- fuckkkk.” Javi hissed as he buried himself deep in your hilt, spilling every drop of his spend against your walls. You could feel the mixture of the both of you dripping down your thighs, soaking Javi’s lap as you slumped into his body, your heart racing as the damp curls of his hair pressed against your shoulder. You both sat there for a moment, letting your chests rise and fall together in sync as you came to. “Fuck me, Osita. I could stay like this forever, baby.”

“You and me both. Although, I feel like that would make things awfully inconvenient for the both of us.” Your soft, sleepy giggles making Javi smile as he ran his fingers though the twisted ends of your hair. Carefully, you lifted yourself up, hissing at the loss of Javi inside you.

“Thank you, Osita.” Javi whispered, tenderly circling his thumb along your jaw as you curled up next to him.

“For what?”

“Just- fuck, you’re so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. So, I just- thank you. Thank you for being everything I need.” Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, Javi pulled you tighter, holding you in his arms as you leaned against him.

“I’ll always be here for you, Javi. I promise.”

You hoped he knew. That he knew your words were true. That when the time came for him to open up to you, letting you into the painful past that loomed above him, that you wouldn’t run. You would be right by his side, just as you were right now.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Javi chuckled as you twisted in the passenger seat, stretching your arms over your head, scrunching your face, letting out a lengthy yawn.

“Fuck, how long was I asleep for? How much longer do we have left? Sorry, I wasn’t planning on sleeping that long, I just wanted to take a nap for a little while we drove.” You ran your hands over your face, looking out at the bright Texas sun shining over the neat suburban neighborhood you now found yourself driving through. Javi reached over across the center console, rubbing his hand along your thigh as he chuckled to himself.

“Baby, I knew from the moment you fell asleep you were gonna be out for the rest of the drive, it’s okay. I was just worried I was gonna have to wake you up in the Murphy’s driveway.” You grumbled as you looked over at Javi, giving him a playful swat against his arm, shaking your head, now emerging from your post nap fog.

“Well if we weren't up fucking at 2:30 in the morning, perhaps I wouldn’t be so tired, hmmmm?”

Javi rolled his eyes as you poked fun at how the both of you had found yourselves last night, trying to ease Javi’s sleeplessness. While your solution had worked enough to ease him back to bed, it had now left you wide awake, wondering what had been going through Javi’s head, torturing him enough to keep him up. It had also meant that the two of you had slept in much longer than you intended, leaving later than planned for Steve and Connie’s. The two of you had quickly packed your things and hit the road, stopping to grab lunch on the way before you found yourself dead asleep next to Javi for the last hour and a half of your journey to San Antonio. With only a few minutes now left in your drive, you peered out the window, admiring the houses that lined the quiet streets of the Murphy’s neighborhood.

“This is a cute subdivision.” You smiled over at Javi, admiring the houses, charming and inviting as they were freshly decorated from Halloween.

“Yeah, it is pretty nice.” He grinned back, wrapping his palm around your thigh, giving your leg a little squeeze. He took a deep breath, his voice now shifting in tone, becoming more shaky and nervous. “Would you uh- would you, um, wanna live in a neighborhood like this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, the houses are all really close together. I spent so much of my life in the city, and even at my house growing up, everything always felt so cramped. After coming here, especially after seeing your ranch, I don’t know, I would love to be somewhere with more space. But that’s a big ask, so, maybe one day if it works out, I guess.” You reached over, rubbing your hand along Javi’s arm, your soft smile meeting his tender gaze as he smirked, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, one day.”

Taking a last turn down one of the neighborhood streets, the two of you pulled up to the quaint two story home belonging to the Murphy’s. Turning off the ignition, Javi paused for a moment, grinning to himself as he ran the hand resting on your leg up to your face, cupping your check as his eyes roamed the length of your body, taking every inch of you in as his sweet brown eyes consumed you. “I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” Both of your heads tilted, your lips gently pressing against one anothers as you traced your hand through Javi’s dark curls, pulling him closer into you. You could feel his smile against your mouth as his tongue barely swiped against your bottom lip, the two of you so lost in the moment, you hadn’t even seen Steve make his way out of the house to greet you, let alone the fact that he was now standing at the driver’s side door, hands on his hips as he watched your impromptu makeout session in Javi’s truck.

“You two lovebirds want help bringin’ your bags in, or do I need to give you a minute?” Steve chuckled to himself as you and Javi shot up, hearts racing and faces going white hearing his distinct drawl and rapid tapping at the driver’s side window. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Javi placed one more soft kiss on your forehead before promptly turning around to flip off Steve and opening the driver’s side door. “You two are worse than a pair of horny teenagers, I swear.” You could hear Steve still snickering to himself as you exited out your side of the car, making your way over to find Javi and Steve in a tight hug, lovingly patting each other on the back.

“Fuck off, Murph.” Javi shook his head against Steve’s embrace, pulling away to grab your two bags from the backseat.

“Listen, I’m not the one makin’ out in my driveway.” Steve shrugged as you sheepishly emerged from your side of the truck, smiling at you as grimaced at him.

“He started it…” You glanced over at Javi, you and Steve now both giggling as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Of course he did, wouldn’t put anything past this old bastard. How ya doin’ sweetheart? Good to see the both of you, we’re really glad you guys could make it.

“She’s doing great after the hour and a half nap she took on the way here.” Javi interjected, slamming the truck door behind him, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

“Whatever, you meanie. In my defense, I was not planning to sleep that long, and I think Halloween exhaustion got the best of me.” You shot Javi a quick wink, trying to bite down on your lip before turning back to face Steve.

“Listen, I don’t blame ya. I’m fuckin’ exhausted after trick-or-treating with 3 kids, let alone tryin’ to keep ‘em wrangled at school all day. I love those girls, but I don’t think I could've gotten them in my parents car fast enough when they came to pick ‘em up this morning. Here, come on in, I won’t make you stand out in the driveway all day, unless you need to make out more.”

As you stepped into the Murphy home, you were greeted by an abundance of Halloween streamers and banners hanging in the living room and up the stairwell to the second floor, along with a few Barbie dolls and accessories scattered across the entryway, nearly stepping on one as you came through the door. You could smell the sweet scent of something baking in the kitchen as Connie came rushing through the hallway, arms outstretched to greet you and Javi. “Oh it’s so good to see you two, thank you so much for coming!” Connie squeezed you and Javi in a tight hug before she backed away, kicking one of the toys on the floor across the room. “Sorry about the Barbies, I told the girls to clean up before they left for their grandparents this morning but I think all 3 of them are still running on a sugar high from last night and that obviously didn’t happen.”

“Thank you so much for having us! Don’t worry about it at all, I totally understand! Javi was just telling me on the way over how much he was hoping the girls had Barbies he could play with anyways!” The 3 of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as you gave him a smirk and a little nudge.

“Fuck, I forgot how funny she was Jav.” Steve snickered to himself, picking up one of the Barbies and tossing it across the room into one of the toy baskets along the wall. “Seriously though, we are really glad you guys could make it. Your birthday party was fun as hell, old man. Glad to be close enough to actually see each other and do stuff like this again.”

Before Javi would respond, you all jumped, startled by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping rapidly from the other room. “Oh crap, sorry, I gotta grab the cupcakes out of the oven!” Connie grimaced apologetically, making her way back to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” You asked, excited to spend more time with Connie.

“Oh my gosh actually if you could help with frosting the cupcakes that would be amazing. I made these yesterday for Olivia and Abby’s class parties, and I had no idea it was gonna take so long and was worried I wasn’t going to have enough time for all of them before the party! Thank you!”

“Of course!” You replied, grinning at her before following her lead to the kitchen, giving a little wave as you disappeared around the hall, looking back at Steve and Javi. “Have fun, you two.”

Steve paused for a moment until the both of you were out of sight, waiting to forcefully slap his hand against Javi’s chest, making him groan from the unexpected pain.

“What the fuck was that for, you jackass?” Javi winced, glaring at Steve.

“Where the fuck’s the ring, man?! Steve hissed through gritted teeth, looking back at Javi in disappointment. “I thought you were gonna fuckin’ do it after you got back from Chicago and met her family?! I thought everything was all good with- oh shit, did something happen with the ho-”

“Shhhhhh! You fuckin’ idiot, please, talk louder, I don’t think the people at the end of the street could hear you.” Javi looked around the corner, clenching his jaw, praying that you hadn’t heard anything from the kitchen.

“I’m not that fuckin’ loud… Shit, what the fuck happened then?” Steve grumbled, looking over at Javi with concern.

“Can we maybe talk about proposal plans somewhere that’s not right by the woman I’m trying to propose to?” Running his thumb over his balled fists, Javi’s eyes darted back and forth, staying on the lookout for your return.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll show you where the guest room is and then you can tell me.” Steve motioned up the stairs, Javi trailing behind with both your bags draped around his shoulders

“Was I really that fuckin’ loud?”

“…Have you heard yourself talk?”

“So how’s everything been going at work? There definitely was a full moon sometime in the past week because things were crazy at the hospital, I’m sure they had to be equally as bad at an elementary school.” You and Connie giggled as you squeezed a dollop of orange frosting onto one of the cupcakes before taking one of the little bags to pipe on eyes and a mouth to make it look like a pumpkin.

“Oh my god, I think it must have been on Wednesday, I had a boy cut another girl’s hair with scissors and then had to call another parent because her daughter bit another kid at recess pretending to play werewolves. I felt really bad we didn’t come last night, I was exhausted after our Halloween party, I fell asleep on poor Javi at like, 8 o’clock.”

Although you found yourself laughing with Connie again, you couldn’t help but shake the uncomfortable feeling you had in your gut as you thought about after you had woken up in the middle of the night to find Javi wide awake and distressed. You carefully set down your spatula, taking a deep breath before glancing over at Connie, still frosting next to you. “Hey, uh, Connie? Can, um- Can I ask you something?” Connie immediately sensed the shift in your tone, putting down her cupcake.

“Of course, honey. What’s going on?”

“Did um, did- Did Steve ever- ever talk to you? About all the stuff that happened in Colombia? I mean like, I know you were there, but I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to ask, this is probably way too personal, I-” You could feel yourself shrinking, retracting in embarrassment at your overly intrusive question, unable to finish your thought before Connie cut you off, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, honey…” Her eyes were filled with sympathy as they looked back at yours, letting out a sigh before she responded. “Did something happen?” You began to nod your head no, even though you could feel the words yes burning in your throat. You took another shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears now welling in your eyes as you spoke.

“No I mean- well, yeah, I guess. Last night, I woke up and Javi wasn’t in bed. He was out in the living room and I could tell that something was bothering him. I don’t know- maybe it was nothing. I just- when my brothers came back from active duty, there were a lot of things that kind of just went unspoken. I knew it was hard for them to talk about. Charlie handled it okay, but my brother Patrick never wanted to talk to anyone about what happened, and it just- I don’t know Connie, I don’t think Javi would ever do anything stupid like he did, but- fuck- it scares me sometimes. I know Javi’s done things that he’s probably not proud of, and I get it’s part of the nature of what his job was. I don’t care. I really don’t. People do shitty things when they’re put in shitty situations. But he never talks about it. Ever. Does… Does he not trust me? I care about him so much, Con. More than anything. I get so worried about him.”

Your tears were now streaming down your cheeks, leaving your face wet as you wiped the back of your hand across your skin to try and do some form of damage control before Connie embraced you, pulling you in for a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around you. “Oh sweetheart. Of course he trusts you. When Steve came back, he was a mess. I don’t think it really all hit him until he was finally home. I guess you’re right, it was different because I was there, but even then, there were things that happened that I didn’t know about. After begging and begging him, I finally got him to go to see someone and it really helped, but even now, there’s times where it still creeps up on him. Honey, Javi loves you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day he was in love as he is with you. If he’s anything like Steve, he just doesn't wanna hurt you.”

You sniffled, taking a step back to wipe your nose with your sleeve, your lip trembling as you tried to keep from crying harder than you already were. “But that’s what hurts, Connie. It hurts me to think he has to keep this from me, like I’m gonna think less of him for what he’s been through.”

“I know. Have you talked to him about it?” Connie’s voice was gentle and sweet, rubbing her hand along your arm as she listened to what you needed to get off your chest.

“No… I guess I should have. I never wanted to pry. I know it’s hard to talk about, I just- I wanna be there for him Connie. I don’t want him to have to do it all on his own.” You shifted your gaze to the ground, guilt washing over you. After Patrick, you couldn’t live with the idea of letting Javi try to suffer through his past alone. You loved him more than anything- and even the slightest thought of going through anything similar to what had happened to Patrick again with Javi was almost paralyzing.

“I think the best thing you can do is to go talk to him.” Looking back up, you saw Connie smiling at you, trying to convince you that everything would be okay, even if it felt like it wasn’t. “Why don’t you go find him? Party’s starting soon anyways, you can go change into your costumes and come down wherever you’re ready. I’ll be just fine with the cupcakes, tell Steve can put himself to work frosting.” The both of you grinned as you tried to wipe your tears, nodding slowly in agreement.

“Thanks, Connie.” You whispered into her shoulder as you pulled her in for a hug before heading up the stairs to find where Javi and Steve had gone. It didn’t take you long to find the pair, hearing their voices carry through the hallway from the slightly cracked door of the guest bedroom. You were about to knock and interrupt their conversation, stopping yourself with your fist barely touching the door as you tried to make out what they were talking about.

“The offer was in fucking cash, too. I was trying to make it easier so I could speed up the process, but it’s been taking them so goddamn long to close on everything so I can finally go sign the fucking paperwork.”

“That fuckin’ blows, Jav. I’m sorry. It’s not like she knows any better, though. It’ll still be a huge fuckin’ surprise, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I know. It’s been killing me to wait this long. I just want it to be perfect, Steve. She deserves everything. Honestly, I’m kinda glad it bought me some more time. I need to find a way to get her to see it before everything’s official in case she fucking hates it.”

“Javi. She’s not gonna hate it. Fuck it, tell her Connie and I are lookin’ for somethin’ and we wanted you two to go see it for us. I don’t know, maybe that’s too obvious. Speakin’ of which, I should probably go check to see if she needs anything before this party, I’m already in the fuckin’ dog house for forgettin’ to bring the girl’s trick-or-treatin’ bags to school, I don’t need to be in trouble for anything else.”

What the hell were they talking about? What was Javi signing? Why was it taking so long? What the hell did it have to do with you? Wait… holy fuck. No way… Was he-

Before you could finish your thought, you suddenly realized Steve was making his way towards the door. You quickly rapped your fist against the wood, trying to play off the fact you had been eavesdropping and make it look like you had just unassumingly made your way upstairs, not overhearing the conversation the two were just having.

Knock, knock.

“Hey, it’s me! Uh, Steve, Con wants to know if you can help her with the cupcakes really quick.” You pushed open the door, trying your best to smile at the suspicious pair as Steve shook his head, looking back at Javi.

“It’s always fuckin’ somethin’. I don’t even know what I did wrong this time, I swear.” Steve held up his hands defensively, sliding his way past you in the doorway before heading downstairs, leaving you standing there awkwardly, unsure how to feel after your conversation with Connie and the one you had just overheard.

“Hey, Osita. How’s everything goin’ down there? Sorry, we were just about to come down and- Hey, baby, you okay?” Javi stood up, concern spreading across his face from the strange scrunch in your brow as you stared at the floor.

“Ummmm…” You froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, your conversation with Connie had you ready to confront Javi, to finally work up the courage to ask him about the past life he had tried his best to keep from you. But as you glanced over at him, seeing his sweet brown eyes and stupidly handsome face, remembering the discussion you had just overheard through the doorway, the other hand meant you weren’t at risk of ruining your night that the two of you had been so looking forward to, and right now, the other hand was going to have to be the one you needed to play. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I just- I was gonna ask you something but forgot what I was gonna say. I’m sure I’ll remember it eventually.” You smiled at Javi, neither of you completely convinced by your response. “But um, Connie said that people are gonna start getting here soon, so we can change into our costumes if you want.” A smirk slowly stretched across your cheeks as you nodded over to the black duffle bags laying on the bed.

Javi’s grin matched yours quickly, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer against him as you giggled. “You sure we’re not gonna be the only ones dressed up?”

“Well considering it’s a Halloween party and I literally just talked to Connie about what she and Steve are wearing downstairs, I’m gonna give it a pretty confident yes. Worst case, it just looks like you’re wearing a white shirt and vest, Mr. Solo. You stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking nerf herder.” You raised your eyebrows, playfully poking at his chest. Javi paused, shaking his head at your quote, firing one right back at you as he bit down on his lip.

“You just like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

“I happen to like nice men.”

“I am a nice man.”

Javi cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, heavy kiss before backing away to unpack your bags, shooting you a quick wink as you rolled your eyes. Jesus, he even found a way to make Star Wars sexy. Just when you thought you couldn’t be anymore in love, Javier Peña never failed to find a way to make you realize you’d never stop falling for him.

After putting in what felt like the 74th bobby pin into your hair after getting the last braid wrapped over your head, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror, pleasantly surprised by how well your costume had turned out. While Javi was disappointed you were adamant you were not going as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi and showing up in front of a group of strangers at Steve and Connie’s party in her slave costume, you and Javi both agreed that Hoth Princess Leia was definitely the next best look. Staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, Javi had been adamant about waiting with you as you finished getting ready, leaning his hip against the bathroom counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you finish the last of your hair and makeup.

“Okay, I think that should stay. All those years of braiding my hair for under my hockey helmet are finally coming in handy for something.” You snickered, pushing the final clip into your hair to hold it into place, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. As you looked yourself down, Javi’s eyes wandered up and down your body just as fast, practically undressing you as fast as you had put your costume on.

“Goddamn, Osita… Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Me? Jesus Christ, Javi. You put Harrison Ford to shame with how fucking good you look. I like Han Solo better with a mustache anyways.” You licked your tongue against your bottom lip, running your hands along the muscles of his arms, straining against the tight henley shirt he was wearing under his vest. You were no better than Javi, practically having to force yourself to not look in his general direction while you were getting ready to prevent yourself from pouncing on him. But given the lack of chatter downstairs, and the impressive speed at which the two of you had gotten ready, you really couldn’t help yourself. Slowly, you let your hands begin to slip down his arms and across his chest, palming at the denim of his black jeans as he let out a deep groan.

“Hermosa…” He hissed against your neck as you grasped at the bulge now growing under his pants, your other hand now making its way down to undo his belt, the clinking of the metal drowned out by Javi’s heavy panting. You began lowering your body, sliding Javi’s pants and boxers down his thighs as his cock sprang free, his tip already red and leaking with precum. You rested on your knees, face to face with his length as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him a few times.

“This okay, Captain Solo?” You batted your lashes at him, giving him a wink before letting your spit dribble onto his cock, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. Curling your fingers around his base, you began to twist your wrist, hollowing out your cheeks as you took him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck me. Holy shit, Osita.” He moaned, tilting his head back, letting his jaw go slack as your head bobbed back and forth. He gently rested his hand along the side of your face, helping to guide you along his length as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, that feels so good. You look so hot, god fuckin’ dammit.” Javi’s words were labored and shaky as you started to increase your pace, wrapping your free hand around the back of his bare thigh, digging your fingertips into his leg. Feeling the pressure beginning to build in his stomach, Javi began rocking his hips, his jaw completely slack as he looked down at the sight of how well you took him in your mouth, saliva dribbling down your chin as sucked along his cock, hard and heavy on your tongue. “Fuck, Osita. I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I cum like this, baby? Fill up that- fuck- fill up that pretty little mouth of yours?””

You glanced up at him, nodding, your lips still wrapped around his dick, the motions of your head and wrist now becoming faster and sloppier as you watched Javi’s brow scrunch and jaw clench, a sign you knew all too well that he was moments away from coming undone.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, baby- shit- se sientes tan bien, estoy tan cercaaahhhhhh-” (you feel so good, I’m so closeeeee-). The hot ropes of his spend coated the back of your throat, the salty, tangy mix filling your mouth as Javi whined, giving his hips one last push as kept your lips wrapped around him, making sure that you had milked him of every last drop before releasing. Letting your spit and his release fall from the corners of your lips, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking up at Javi’s blissed out expression. “Jesus Christ, Osita. You’re too fucking good at that. Holy shit. Lemme take care of-“

You held up your hand to stop him as you stood up, your gesture cutting off the rest of his sentence as you helped to pull up his jeans and boxers still resting along his thighs. “I’m allowed to give my hot ass boyfriend blowjobs without anything in return. C’mon, we better get downstairs before Steve walks in on us again.” You pressed up on your tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on Javi’s lips as he reached down to buckle his belt before the two of you tried your best to fix yourself up in the mirror to avoid the inevitable shit Steve was about to give the both of you. Giving Javi a quick nod in the mirror before turning off the light and heading out the door, he gave your ass a playful smack, making you squeal in surprise, making you turn on your heels. Resting his hand on his hip, he beamed at you, biting down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I know.”

The Murphy’s living room had begun to pool with guests as you made your way down the stairs, looking for Steve and Connie amongst the crowd. You and Javi both grabbed a beer from the cooler at the bottom of the stairwell, quickly turning around as you heard Steve’s familiar twang approaching behind you.

“Well I’ll be damned. You got this motherfucker in a costume? He must really love you.” Steve chuckled, shaking Javi by the shoulders. “And Star Wars too?! You asshole, how many times did I try to tell you they were good fuckin’ movies?! You shoulda dressed him up like Jabba the Hut.” You and Steve cackled as Javi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and what the fuck are you supposed to be? A sad pirate?” Javi jabbed, poking fun at Steve’s poorly put together costume.

“Listen, Olivia and Abby both wanted to be the Little Mermaid, so we had two Ariel’s, Con was Ursula, Madison was the yellow fish and I didn’t wanna be that annoying ass crab, so pirate it was, asshole.” Steve retorted, punching at Javi’s arm, the two of them laughing at each other like little boys. “Alright, go enjoy yourselves lovebirds, I’ll see ya in a little bit. And Javi?”

“Yeah Murph?”

“You really gotta start checkin’ your pants, buddy.”

Javi’s cheeks turned red, his eyes darting down to his zipper, still all the way undone from your activities upstairs, the both of you grimacing at each other, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with Steve as he disappeared into the crowd.

It really wasn’t a surprise to Javi how many friends the Murphy’s had already managed to make in their time since moving to San Antonio. Their house was quickly crowded with all sorts of people- Steve and Connie’s co-workers, neighbors, parents of friends Olivia and Abby had made at school, regardless of where the party goers were from, everyone had collectively agreed to make adult Halloween just as fun as any kids. You and Javi were having a great time catching up with Steve and Connie, as well as meeting some of their other close friends, one of Connie’s neighbors being an elementary school teacher, giving you two plenty to commiserate about from the hellish week it had been. It didn’t take long for the party to move outside, Steve drunkenly deciding that he needed to make a bonfire, despite adamant argument that with the amount of alcohol Steve had in his system, he was going to spontaneously combust if he got close enough to a flame. Javi, sober enough to still help his friend make rational decisions, was glad that Steve was happy to let him build the bonfire.

“The force is strong with you, Han Solo.” You giggled, Javi wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead as the two of you stared into the flickering orange glow of the fire pit.

“Not strong enough to extinguish Steve if he got close enough to it. Hey, I got shit all over my hands, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and wash ‘em off. You need anything while I’m inside, Princess?” You smiled as you nudged Javi at the nickname he had been adamant about using since you had put on your costume.

“I’m good, thank you. I’m gonna go wait over on the swingset so I don’t completely reek of bonfire later.” Javi nodded as he slid his hand down your back, giving your ass a quick squeeze before making his way through the crowd, heading towards the house. Surprised no one else had capitalized on the chance to sit down, you wandered over to the wooden playset at the corner of the Murphy’s backyard, taking a seat on one of the plastic swings, kicking your feet against the grass below.

“Hey, there she is! How goes it, Leia?” Taking a few long strides through the yard, Steve was now quickly making his way over to you, stumbling over his own feet as he somehow managed to sit himself down on the swing next to you. You tried your best not to laugh at Steve’s drunken state, but his current antics weren’t making it very easy on you.

“I could ask the same to you. You doin’ okay there, pirate?”

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m doin’ fuckin’ great. Where’s the asshole?”

“Inside, I’m sure he’ll be back out soon.” You snickered at Steve watching the beer dribble down his chin from the overly confident swig he had taken.

“Good, I don’t need ‘em right now. You were the one I was lookin’ for.” Steve pointed in your general direction, but clearly wasn’t aware enough to hit his target head on.

“Me?” You laughed, pointing back to yourself.

“Yes, you. You talk to him yet?”

“About?” You paused, wondering if Steve had any inkling of the conversation you were planning to have earlier, or if he was drunkenly deciding you and Javi needed to discuss something else.

“You know about what. I talked to Connie earlier. I figured I owed it to you to come talk to you about it, too.”

Your heart began to race, that uncomfortable feeling once again beginning to churn in your stomach as you thought about the things you and Connie had discussed earlier. “Steve, you don’t owe me anything, I-”

“No, I do. Hold on a second.” Steve turned away, letting out a hearty burp, pouding on his chest before facing back towards you. “Sorry, I’ve been holdin’ that in for like 10 minutes, I needed to let it out. Anyways… What was I sayin’? Oh shit, yeah, the grumpy bastard. Listen, sweetheart. I know it’s gonna fuckin’ suck, but you gotta be the one to bring it up and talk to him about it. If I know anything about that motherfucker, it’s that he will bottle things up for way too fuckin’ long until someone gets it out of him. He’s a good guy. He says he’s not, but he is. Saved my ass more times than I can count. That job made us do some fucked up shit neither of us are fuckin’ proud of. But that doesn’t mean he gets to keep it from you. I swear to God, that asshole is so fuckin’ in love with you, it makes me sick. You make him so happy. He just doesn’t wanna fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, all you could manage was to reach over to the swing next to you, pulling Steve in for a hug as you tried to keep your tears from staining his shirt. “Thanks, Steve.” You whispered, leaning back into your seat, using your sleeve to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“I know you love him too. You deserve to know. Don’t let him be a stubborn jackass to you, okay? I’m bein’ serious. I should be the one thankin’ you though, honey. In all the years I’ve known him, I never thought I’d see ‘em this happy. I promise I won’t get this drunk at your wedding.” Steve winked, straining to push himself up out of the swing, somehow managing to catch his balance as he stumbled into the grass.

“You do make a very inspirational drunk, Steve.” You laughed to yourself, looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Alright, enough sap, I’m gonna go get another fuckin’ beer, I’ll see ya around okay?”

“Okay, maybe a water would be good for you, too.”

“Water’s for pussies.”

“Water’s good for people who don’t want raging hangovers tomorrow.”

“Pirates are always drunk, so I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

It didn’t take long for Javi to return, easily spotting his tall, broad body making his way through the crowd, beaming at you as he walked over to the swings. You tried your best to smile back at him with the uneasy pounding in your chest quickly building, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Hey, Hermosa. Sorry it took so long, I ended up stopping to get another drink on the-“

“Do- Javi, do you trust me?”

Your words were quiet and blunt as they rolled off your tongue, your eyes peeled on your feet kicking through the grass beneath you.

Javi’s brow immediately scrunched in confusion, completely off put by your question and demeanor. “Do I- Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I trust you? What’s going on?” Setting down his drink, he began making his way next to you in frantic, worried strides.

“Then why won’t you talk to me about it?” Your eyes darted from the ground up to his, his sweet brown eyes swirling with confusion at the firm tone of your voice and desperation growing across your face.

“Talk to you about what? Hermosa, what’s going on? Is everything ok-”

“Why won’t you talk to me about Colombia?”

Javi took a step back. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defense, or absolute shock from the words that had just fallen out of your mouth. He stared at you for a moment, his jaw locking as you could see how hard he swallowed, trying to bide his time as he calculated his response.

“Osita… It’s not that simple.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. Baby, if this is because of last night, you don’t need to worry about me, can we please just drop it?” The two of you faced each other in an unspoken standoff, Javi’s hands now resting on his hips as you crossed your arms over your chest. You had tried so hard to be patient, but in the moment, it was like all of your frustration was beginning to boil over.

“That’s exactly why we’re talking about this, Javi. Because I fucking worry about you. All the time. I’ve tried so hard to be patient. I’ve never, ever tried to get you to talk about it because I know it’s fucking hard. But last night, you’re up at 2 A.M, wandering around the apartment, and I’m begging you to tell me what’s wrong and you won’t fucking do it. I’m not an idiot, Javi. I can’t live in this weird in between space in your life where you pretend your past doesn’t exist when I know it still fucking haunts you. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

Javi could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweating as they clenched in tight fists at his sides. He tried so desperately to find an answer, something, anything he could tell you to try and justify his choices. The choices he had kept from you. The choices he couldn’t forgive himself for. “Because, I- fuck- because, goddamnit, I just- I was a terrible fucking person, okay? The things I did, they were-”

“What? Fucked up? Painful? Shitty? Of course they fucking were, Javi. You were literally in Colombia chasing down Pablo Fucking Escobar. What did you think I thought you were doing down there? Filing away paperwork? You don’t think I know that you did things you regret? That you’ve hurt people? Made choices that hurt innocent people who didn’t deserve it? I know Javi, I fucking know. I watched my brothers come back from the same goddamn thing. I tried so hard to give them space, to let them come to terms with the fucked up things they did on their own, and you know what fucking happened? One of them’s fucking dead because of it. I can’t let it happen again. I don’t care about what you did. It doesn’t make you a bad person. But you can’t try and hide it from me and pretend like it doesn’t exist. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t if you don’t trust me. Please trust me. Please. I love you so much, Javi. I can’t lose you.”

Javi stood in silence, as the both of you fought the tears streaming down your cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he had just been hit in the gut with a giant sucker punch, or if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He truly didn’t know how to feel. He wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly. Did you really just tell him that you knew about the fucked up, terrible things he had done and that you didn’t care? That you still fucking loved him? All you wanted was for him to trust that you wanted to be there for him? He could feel his hands trembling and lip quivering as he tried to find the words to speak.

“Osita… I- fuck, baby. Osita, I’m so sorry. I trust you with my fucking life. You- You don’t deserve to have to deal with with all the fucked up things I’ve done. I don’t wanna scare you away, baby. You’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me and I was so terrified if you found out about the terrible person I used to be, you’d leave. It’s not fair to you, I can’t expect you to carry the weight of all the fucking things I’ve done, too. I’m so sorry.” Quietly, Javi sat down next to you on the empty swing, burying his hands in his face. Gently, you reached over, pulling his hands away, forcing him to look at you.

“Whatever you tell me isn’t gonna scare me away. I promise. The only thing that’s gonna scare me is when you try to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Javi… Javi, I just- I just wanna be there for you. I don’t want you to have to do it alone. I’d do anything for you. I trust you more than anyone. You’re my best friend. I just- fuck- I just want you to trust that I’ll always be there for you to. I promise.”

And just like that, the last brick holding up the wall between you and Javier Peña collapsed. There was nothing left to run from. Nothing left to hide. After he returned home, he was a changed man. He had hated the person he had become. Maybe there was a part of him that didn’t want to be loved, because he didn’t believe that he deserved to be. But then, there was you.

You.

You had taken everything he had known and changed his life for the better. You had become his better half, the person he loved more than anyone in the world. You had proved he was worthy of more than just existing- you had proved to Javi that he was worth the love and happiness you had promised him from the moment you had come into his life and made it worth living for.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Always.”

The way Javi grabbed you and wrapped you in his arms, grasping at the back of your shirt as he pulled you in tighter, feeling the hot breath of his silent sobs against your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You didn’t know much, but if there was one thing you did know, it was that you loved Javier Peña more than life itself. As quickly as it had felt like your life had fallen apart, he had come into it and picked up the broken pieces to put it back together. And on an October night in San Antonio, sitting on an old wooden swing set in the Murphy’s backyard, you hoped that Javi knew that you would always be there to pick up the shattered parts of his past, too.

You weren’t sure how many hours had passed as you sat hand in hand in the swings with Javi as you listened to anything and everything he had to say. Long after the backyard was empty, and the bonfire had faded to embers and ashes, and the only one left awake besides the two of you was Connie, trying to drag Steve back inside from the plastic lawn chair he had passed out on, you finally made your way up to bed for the best sleep the two of you had in a very, very long time. Your goodbyes to the Murphy’s had been short and sweet- Connie exhausted from the late night, and Steve barley coherent from how hungover he was, you were still both so thankful the two of you had made the journey out to see them, and the both of you, just as grateful for the sweet and supportive life long friends you knew the Murphy’s would become. Most of your drive back to Laredo was spent in a comfortable silence, the golden sunrise spilling through the windows of Javi’s truck as you cruised down the highway, Javi’s hand never leaving yours, your fingers intertwined together as his thumb gently rubbed against your soft skin and your head rested against his broad shoulder.

“How are you feeling about seeing your mom today?” You asked, lightly squeezing his arm as you smiled up at him, now exiting off the freeway quickly approaching the cemetery where you planned to meet Chucho to celebrate Día De Los Muertos, trying your best to comfort Javi as he prepared to see his mom’s gravesite for the first time since her funeral almost a decade ago. Javi let out a quiet sigh, his grip tightening just a little tighter around your hand as he looked over at you, a surprisingly calm look flooding his face.

“I’m actually doing okay. Better than I would have thought. I think I was always so worried that she wouldn’t be proud of me and the man I’d become after she was gone. I um- I finally think that she’d be proud of me now.” He glanced over at you, his smile soft and tender as he soaked in the reason for his pride sitting right beside him.

You noticed Chucho’s truck as you pulled up to park along the edge of the small cemetery, Chucho excitedly waving you down as you both hopped out of the car. Walking around to Javi, you were quick to grab his hand, giving him a reassuring grip as the two of you made your way through the gravestones along the thin cobblestone path towards Chucho, already arranging the items he had collected for Lucia’s ofrenda.

“Hola, niños.” Chucho grinned, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of today, Chucho. I know… Well, I just- I’m really honored to- just, thank you.” Chucho wasted no time pulling you into your own hug, his rough and worn hands holding you by the shoulders as he looked at you with misty eyes.

“Mija, I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if we would all be here today. Lucia’s last wish to me was that I would promise to make sure Javier was happy. Now hija, I think my sweet Lucia can rest a little easier knowing someone else has already fulfilled my promise for me.” As the two of you spoke, you hadn’t noticed as Javi had quietly stepped over to his mother’s gravestone, crouching next to it, his fingers delicately tracing along the engraved letters of her name, his other hand holding one of the marigold flowers Chucho had brought with him. The two of you watched quietly as Javi sat next to his mom, gently placing the flower on the shiny stone as he spoke.

“Hola, mamá. Te extrañé. Siento haber tarado tanto.” (Hi mom. I missed you. I’m sorry I took so long). Javi’s voice trembled as he took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling as his hand rested on the stone, warm from the sun, shining brightly in the blue November sky. “Que estaba asustada de de verte porque estaba orgullosala de la persona en la que me había convertido. Que no quería decepcionarte. Tenía miedo mucho, mamá. Me sentí como si todo se derrumbase. solo quería olvidar. Pero entonces…” (I was scared to see you because I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I was so scared, mom. I felt like I let everyone down. I just wanted to forget. But then…). Javi turned his head, seeing you and Chucho, arm in arm, a smile growing across his face as looked back at the two people in life he loved the most. He took an extra moment to stare at you and the soft grin spread between your cheeks, basking in the comfort and warmth of the woman who had forever changed his life for the better. “Pero entonces, mamá, La conocí. Que es perfecta. Nunca supe que podías amar tanto a alguien. Ella es lo mejor que me ha pasado. La habrías amado.ella es una maestra, tambien. A veces me pregunto qué ve en mí. No sé qué hice para merecerse. voy a pedirle que se case conmigo.Cuidaré bien de ella. Ella se merece todo lo que le pueda dar y más. Espero que estés orgulloso de mí, mamá. te echo mucho, Pero le juro a usted, al fin soy feliz. Te amo, mamá.” (But then, mom, I met her. She is perfect. I never knew you could love someone so much. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You would have loved her. She’s a teacher too. Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in me. I don’t know what I did to deserve her. I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I’m gonna take such good care of her. She deserves everything I can give her and more. I hope you’re proud of me, mamá. I miss you so much, but I promise you, I’m finally happy. I love you, mom.)

With a gentle nudge from Chucho, you softly stepped behind Javi, gently placing your hands on his shoulders before he rose up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest as he wiped away the tears welling behind his eyes. Staring down at Lucia’s gravestone, Javi ran his hand through your hair, carefully planting a kiss against your head and burying his nose in the soft waves of your hair.

“I wish I would have had the chance to have met you, Mrs. Peña. I would have had someone else to commensurate with over all of the crazy teaching stories I’m sure the both of us have. Maria, Estelle and Linda all miss you a lot too, but I’m sure they haven’t changed a bit. Thanks for raising such a good son. I don’t know what I would do without him. I know he says that he doesn’t know what he did to deserve me, but I really think it should be the other way around. I promise I’ll look out for him.” You tried your best to smile through your soft sobs, looking up at Javi, tears streaming down his wet cheeks. It wasn’t long before Chucho had snuck up behind you, patting each of you on the back before smiling down at Lucia, too.

“Estos dos están tan enamorados, Lucia. Tal vez más que tú y yo. Ella es una buena chica. Estoy muy contenta de que ella sea parte de nuestra familia. Finalmente tendremos a nuestros nietos, también.” (These two are so in love, Lucia. Maybe even more than you and I. She is a great girl. I am so happy she is a part of our family. We are finally going to get our grandchildren, too). Chucho winked, nudging Javi in the side, forcing him to laugh through his tears, shaking his head at his dad’s comment. “Now, no more tears, you two. This is a happy day. Your mamá is smiling down on you, and I can almost hear here scolding me to keep you from crying anymore. C’mon, let’s decorate and eat, I even brought pozole.”

The three of you spent the next hour decorating Lucia’s grave with bright orange and gold cempazuchitl (marigold flowers) and little Calaveras (sugar skulls) painted in bold colors and refined details, sharing and laughing about Javi’s favorite memories of his mother while snacking on the Pozole Chucho had brought to share. For the first time in a long time, Javi no longer felt guilt and grief when he thought about his mom- her memory filled him with love and joy. He wasn’t the same bitter, broken man he was when he had said his final goodbyes to his mother all those years ago. While he wished he could change the past, the reality of the present, and his future finally brought him peace, knowing he could be proud of the man he had become, thanks to you.

As Javi helped Chucho to clean up the extra flowers and decorations he had brought, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching at the wrinkled photo you had shoved in your pocket as you had packed up to leave from the Murphy’s this morning. You carefully took it out, holding it gently in your hands as you tried to uncrinkle the edges. “You ready, Hermosa?” Javi called out, now a few steps ahead of you, making his way back towards the truck. “Hermosa?” He asked again, thinking perhaps you hadn’t heard him the first time. When he was greeted by silence again, he looked back to see you staring at the crumpled photo in your hands.

“I um- I know that he isn’t buried here, and uh, if you don’t want me to, it’s okay- but um- is it, is it alright if I leave a couple flowers for Patrick?” You sniffed, a tear dropping down on the photo of the two of you, Patrick holding you in a headlock as you laughed with a wide, toothy grin, drowning in one of his old Blackhawks jerseys that you were so excited to wear because it belonged to him.

“Of course, Osita. Of course it is.” Javi smiled at you softly, turning back around with the tub of leftover decorations, making his way towards you. Quietly, you walked back over to Lucia’s gravestone, carefully setting down the picture of you and Patrick next to it, putting a few marigolds over top of it so it stayed pinned in place from the warm breeze.

“I miss you, asshole. You deserved so much better. I hope you don’t still think that I hate you. I mean, I do, but you know what I mean. Honestly, you were lucky you didn’t have to live through the Blackhawks losing in the playoffs this year, that fucking sucked. Mom and Dad and Charlie and David all miss you too. I finally went back home to see them. It still wasn’t the same without you there, but I know you don’t hurt anymore. I hope that you don’t hurt anymore. I love you, Patrick. Crack open a cold one up there for me, okay?” Trying your best to not to uncontrollably sob, you sniffled, wiping the tears running down your face as you leaned your head against Javi’s chest. He ran his hand along your back as he held you tighter, letting you take a moment to get everything out before you took a deep breath, nodding your head as if to signify to Javi and yourself that you were okay.

“You okay, Osita? We can take all the time you need, baby.” Javi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder.

“No, I’m okay. I just- I wanted to do something for him, too. Thanks, Javi. I love you.”

“I know.”

After several more long hugs goodbye with Chucho, you and Javi began your journey back home, marveling at the beautiful sunset, painting the sky with bright pinks and oranges and the warmth and comfort of Lucia and Patrick’s presence. You were so lost in thought staring out at the fading sky, you hadn’t even noticed that Javi had detoured from your usual route home until he had said something to you. “You okay if we make a quick pit stop on the way home, Osita?” You nodded, smiling at the golden glow covering his face. It wasn’t long until you were veering off the main road, Javi turning to make his way down a tree lined gravel pathway with a “For Sale” sign posted in front of it.

“For sale?” You questioned, looking over at Javi before peering out your window to watch the trees lining the path pass by you as the gravel crunched under the truck’s tires.

“Yeah, uh- I was talking with Steve at the party yesterday and he- uh, one of his buddies said he was looking to get out of the city- wanted a plot of land to build on. Said he had heard good things about Laredo but didn’t have time to go check things out for himself, so I told him I would go take a look around and let Steve know what I thought.” Javi replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant as you shrugged before looking back out the window. As you reached the end of the path, the trees opened to reveal a beautiful, lush green field, the sun setting perfectly along the rolling hills of the horizon in front of you. Turning off the ignition, Javi gestured for the both of you to get out of the truck so you could go take a look around.

“Jav… This is beautiful.” You marveld, grinning as you took in the beauty of the open space drenched in golden sunset.

“You like it?” Javi grinned, laughing as you spun around, the gentle breeze blowing your hair in and out of your face.

“Oh my God, yeah. Tell Steve’s friend to get on this place ASAP before I scrounge up every penny I have and sell one of my kidneys on the black market to buy it from him. There doesn’t even need to be a house, I’ll just lay in the empty field, perfectly content.” You giggled, letting out a happy sigh as you grabbed Javi’s hand, leaning your head against his arm as you admired the sun slipping away below the horizon.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. He said he’s wanting to build a house here, do you think- do you think that he would think it’s got enough space? It’s not too far from everything? I know it’s a little farther from downtown and a longer drive to work- if uh, if he works by where we do, you don’t think that’d be a problem? For him?” Javi squeezed back, trying his best not to stumble over his words.

“Are you kidding me? It’s literally perfect out here, Javi. Could you imagine getting to see this every night? He better put some big windows on this house so he can get all of the sunlight, oh my god, it would be so pretty. It’s not even that far from everything, and the view makes the extra drive time worth every minute. I know it’s probably a far way off, and we haven’t really talked about it, but I would love to live at a place like this someday.”

Javi smiled to himself, looking down at you as you rested against him, soaking in every ounce of you as he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist, gently rubbing his thumb along the soft hem of your shirt before letting out a content sigh.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd

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maimingaffairs · 1 year

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Hey, could I please request something for Aleksander x femReader where the Reader is a Star Summoner? He and Reader have been friends since they where children and have walked the earth together since then. They always thought that the love they have for the other is just friendship, but boy where they wrong...Their friendship takes a hit during the whole Alina in the Little Palace time...Reader knows about the plan to expand the fold and is all for it, she just really doesnt like Alina....Anyway, during the events on the skiff when Alina runs, Reader and Aleksander get separated and believe the other to be dead...They go on to free Grisha on their own. After some time they meet and in the heat of the moment he kisses her...They finaly confess their feelings...After that they go on to win the war...After they win they get crowned King and Queen and bring peace to Ravka, but expecialy to the Grisha...

this was another 3am write, i yet again apologize for that. also, i apologize for how long it took for me to finish this. i have been in Tennessee all weekend seeing taylor swift... anyways... anon thank u so much for this beautiful req. i hope that it is to your liking

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of blood

word count: 8.2k

Are There Still Beautiful Things? (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

“One more time, please?”

“You’ve said that four times, Aleksander.”

“And I’ll say it four more if I must. It’s beautiful.”

You looked over at your best friend and gave him a little smile and rolled your eyes.

“Your mother is not going to be happy when you don’t get inside.” You remarked and then nodded at his hands once.

The two of you laid underneath a large tree just outside of his home, just as you did almost every other night. You’d been best friends with the boy ever since the two of you were little children, and now here the the two of you were, barely fourteen, and you were still yet to be rid of that childlike wonder.

“I don’t really care. She won’t get mad, she likes you enough.” He insisted and reached out to gently grab your hand, “One more time, I swear this is the last one. Please?”

You looked into his dark, round eyes and you nodded once, conceding under his pleading stare.

“Okay. One more time.” You giggled and squeezed his hand once.

The two of you intertwined your fingers and Aleksander raised his free hand to conjure a thin sheet of shadows just above your heads as you looked up at the space around you.

The stars and the moon above your heads disappeared behind the shadows he conjured and you reached up to drag your fingertips through the inky darkness above your heads. Finally, you flexed your hands and clasped them together for just a moment before you opened your palms up towards the shadows, sending little glittering shards of soft white light up into the shadows. Aleksander marveled at the sight for a while, and you turned your head to marvel at him.

Sometimes when you did this, the two of you would spend hours making up your own constellations and galaxies within the self-made stars and sky that you’d both created. This wasn’t one of those times, though. The dark haired boy next to you leaned over and placed a little kiss on your cheek before he reached up and shooed away the shadows he’d created.

“Okay, I said it was the last time and I meant it. See?” He teased

You giggled and nodded, watching as he pushed himself up off of the ground and held his hands out for you to take.

“Let’s go inside, yeah? My mother will likely beat me with a stick for not coming in an hour ago.” He said and gave you that charming smile that you had come to love so much over the years.

“Okay.” You answered softly and reached up to take his hands.

Aleksander’s hands clasped around yours tightly as he swung himself down off of his tall horse and he gave you a small, soft smile. He leaned down to press a hello kiss to your cheekbone and then let go of your hands, and you lowered them back to your sides.

“Well, I see that the Little Palace is still intact and hasn’t been burned to the ground yet, so I assume my time away wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.”

His voice soothed you more than just the sight of him and you let out a relieved sigh, straightening out your kefta.

“It was bad. For me, at least. I had no one to bother. Stop running off.” You replied, earning a lazy smile from him.

Aleksander shook his head with a quiet whisper of a laugh and he turned around. In his last letter to you, he raved about how he’d found the Sun Summoner at long last.

The girl perched upon his horse must have been her.

She was pretty, despite her state. Days of riding had put her hair into tangles and there was dirt caked underneath her fingernails and smudged across her cheeks. Aleksander helped the slender girl off of his horse and he motioned towards you once she was securely on her feet.

“Miss Starkov, this is y/n. Star Summoner and my right hand.”

Her eyes traveled over you, up and down a few times. The ghost of a disdainful look crossed her face and then she gave you a curt nod.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance.” She replied briskly and gave you one more look up and down before she clasped her hands behind her back.

You eyed her cautiously in return and then gave her a small hum.

“Likewise, Miss Starkov.” You replied in the same clipped tone.

The girl watched you as if you were a current threat to her and you slowly shifted your gaze to Aleksander who was looking over his shoulder at Ivan. You cleared your throat, effectively capturing his attention and he turned back to the two of you and then nodded towards the palace.

“Meet me in my chambers, would you, y/n?” He asked and you gave him a nod.

Alina didn’t even give you a second glance, turning her head up to face somewhere between Aleksander and the doors to the palace. You blinked a few times, taken aback by her coldness and you slowly moved away from the two of them. You bunched the skirt of your dress up in one hand and made your way back inside the palace, greeting a few of the Grisha that had gathered around the entrance, wanting to catch a glimpse of the Sun Summoner. You shouldered your way inside and made a beeline for Aleksander’s chambers, letting out a little huff.

“You’re in an awful hurry.” A voice called out behind you and you turned around with a relieved smile when you saw Baghra.

You stopped walking and waited for the older woman to make her way to you and she gently hooked her arm with yours and let out a sigh.

“So, this is it.” She said simply and walked with you as you continued down the hall, now going at a pace she could easily maintain.

“I suppose so,” you mused and then you let out a tiny scoff, “I would’ve thought she’d at least be a bit more… pleasant.” You stated and glanced over at her.

She shrugged a bony shoulder and she drummed her thin fingers against your arm.

“Well, from what I understand, this is all new to her. Imagine finding out one day into your adult life that you are the Sun Summoner, prophesied for centuries. I’m sure she’s a bit apprehensive, my dear girl.” Baghra reasoned and then gave you a tired smile.

“Perhaps. Where are you headed this afternoon?” You asked softly and led her through the winding halls to Aleksander’s chambers.

You had known Baghra since you were only four years old, and she had always been nothing but kind to you, taking you in eventually once you grew older. Your parents never were fond of you being Grisha. She was often viewed as bitter and harsh by others, but you had nothing but admiration and love for Aleksander’s mother.

“I came to seek you out. I figured you’d either be outside with my son or you’d be headed to his quarters. Seems I was correct.”

She usually was.

“Oh? Is there anything I can do for you?” You asked her softly and she simply patted your arm before speaking.

“Just make sure he doesn’t make poor choices. Please. You’ve always been his voice of reason. He cares for you like you would never imagine.” She hummed and then looked up at you.

You gazed down at the woman and then gave her a small smile in return, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze with your own.

“Well, I care for him like he could never imagine so I suppose it works out, doesn’t it?” You asked and then leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek.

“I care for you, too, you know. You are the child I never birthed. I am thankful for you. He needs you. You remind him to be polite and kind, and he reminds you to utilize your power and your cleverness.” She said with a little sigh.

When you two approached the doors to Aleksander’s chambers, you pushed them open for her and she let go of your arm and wandered inside and you followed behind her, closing the doors behind you.

“I must know, and you need to tell me the truth, darling. Does my son have ulterior motives with the Sun Summoner?” She asked and turned around slowly to face you.

You met her eyes and then shook your head before you gave her a shrug as well.

“Not that he’s told me of. I mean, we don’t discuss the Sun Summoner often. And when we have it’s always been hypothetical. This is the first time we’ve been faced with a reality with her in it.” You explained.

Lie. You lied.

You knew very well what Aleksander planned to do with The Fold. You felt a bit of shame as you lied to Baghra, but you swallowed it down like dry bread and kept your eyes on hers.

“Time will tell I suppose. It was lovely to see you, y/n. Come and see me for tea tomorrow afternoon if you can sneak away from Aleksander. I know he doesn’t much like to share you.”

You watched as she walked to the far side of the room and pressed her fingers against a wall panel and it slid open.

“I’ll cross my fingers that I see you tomorrow. Until then, behave.” She said with an affectionate smile and you gave her a little wave as she disappeared into the wall.

You stood in the middle of Aleksander’s war room for a while before you took your kefta off and laid it against the large table in the middle of the room and you wandered into his bedroom. You let out a long sigh as you walked towards his bed, and as soon as you were close enough, you tossed yourself backwards onto it.

You wondered where Aleksander was and realized he must be busy with the Sun Summoner.

The Sun Summoner. Your stomach turned a bit and you sneered to nothing in particular. You could already see where this was heading. He had to devote time to her, you knew that. But you weren’t excited to share his attention. After all, you’d been the main recipient of it for the last five hundred years. You stared up at the ceiling and a little pit began to form in your stomach at the thought of Aleksander giving his attention to her and you shook your head, trying to clear the thought from your mind, pushing it down as far as it could go.

He devoted time and attention to his army, to other Grisha, to his mother, the royal family… the list could go on. So why was this different?

You feared you knew the answer and you shoved it out of your mind as fast as the thought could take form, but the feeling lingered nonetheless.

It was different because you had feelings for Aleksander.

“Oh, Saint’s sake, Zoya! I asked you to be gentle today!” You called to the Squaller.

She looked over at you after she had yet again, knocked down one of the trainees cruelly in combat and she gave you a shrug.

“They aren’t going to get the option of gentleness in a real combat situation, Miss y/l/n!” She called back at you with a grin.

It had been nearly a month since Alina had arrived at the Little Palace, and Aleksander was adamant that you oversaw her training. You stood off to the side with your hands clasped behind your back, watching all the trainees carefully. You oversaw almost all of the combat training these days, as you were quite skilled in combat. You glanced out over the small group of new Grisha and you pointed at Alina, beckoning her forward.

“Alina, darling. Why don’t you go next? I’ve seen you beat Zoya before.” You suggested and the girl eyed you discontentedly.

She slowly stepped forward and then folded her arms over her chest. She looked Zoya up and down before she turned her head and looked at you, her eyes narrowing just slightly.

“I don’t appreciate how you’re singling me out. It’s a bit eerie how obsessed with me you seem to be.” She called out to you.

Your eyebrows shot up challengingly and you stared her down, daring her to say another word. When she didn’t, you spoke.

“Obsessed with you? Please, don’t flatter yourself, Miss Starkov. Nearly everyone has taken their turn today, and now it is yours.” You replied coolly.

Zoya shifted awkwardly where she stood and then she glanced up at you. You gave her a little nod and then waved your hand once.

“If there are no more interruptions, let’s start.” You instructed and lowered your hands down to your sides, flexing them frustratedly.

“I’m not going to.” Alina said sharply.

You folded your arms across your chest and watched her amusedly.

“And you think your belligerence is going to get you anywhere? You need a reality check, Starkov.” You remarked and watched as she rolled her eyes at you.

“The Darkling wouldn’t-“

“The Darkling wouldn’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to his second in command. So spar or don’t, but either way you will walk yourself down to his chambers and tell him yourself just how you spoke to me and how you refused to be compliant with your trainers.” You stated and watched as she shook her head.

She muttered something out from under her breath and then she spun on her heel and turned in the opposite direction and walked haughtily away from you and the rest of the Grisha.

You watched as she marched off and then turned towards the trainees that were gathered around you.

“You are all dismissed for today. I have some business I should attend to.” You said in a flat tone and didn’t wait a second longer before you made the brief walk from the training yard to Aleksander’s chambers inside of the Little Palace.

You didn’t bother knocking on his doors and you flung them open, marching inside of his war room with a frown across your lips. Your eyes fell upon him as he leaned over his war table and you walked up to his side, allowing the door to shut behind you.

“You are displeased.” He remarked without even looking up at you.

“What gave it away?” You huffed, leaning your waist up against the edge of the table.

“You didn’t announce yourself. And you’re stomping.” He slowly turned his head up towards you.

You stared into his dark eyes and then sighed. You leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder and you frowned.

“Your Sun Summoner is not a very kind person. I’m tired of her disrespect towards me.” You mumbled and you felt Aleksander chuckle.

You stood up straight just as he did and you shook your head.

“What’s funny about that? I’m very serious.” You stated and folded your arms over your chest.

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean to disrespect you. She’s probably just a bit homesick. She’s tired of being here. Don’t take it personally.” He advised and then reached over to rub your arm reassuringly.

You gaped at him and knitted your brows together.

“Don’t take it personally? If I had complained about anyone else disrespecting me, you would’ve seen to their swift punishment. Why is it different when it’s her?” You asked incredulously, a little pang of sadness resonating through your stomach, up through your chest.

“It’s not different. I just… don’t know what you want me to do.” He said exhaustedly and then he rubbed his face and stared down at you.

“I want you to put an end to it! I am your second in command. Your best friend. I have known you since you were a child, Aleksander! I expect you to stand up for me!” You exclaimed and threw your hands up in the air.

Aleksander bitterly let out a laugh and he shook his head once.

“Please. You sound ridiculous. I think that you’re jealous.” He remarked and folded his arms across his lean chest.

“Jealous? Excuse me?” You sputtered and then gave him a nasty look, “Of Alina? What planet do you live on, Aleksander? I could end her with the flick of my wrist.” You countered angrily.

“You could not. We both know she’s more powerful than you. You seem to detest that. Trust me, I’ve wished for you to be as powerful as her many times before.” He snapped coldly and you blinked at him a few times.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they couldn’t be taken back. The look of shock on your face slowly turned to sadness and then shame and your eyes filled with hot tears. You looked down at the floor and your chin wobbled a few times before you looked back up at him. You squared your shoulders and sniffled back your tears, looking at him sadly.

He felt as if you’d taken his heart out and crushed it in your fingers just from the look in your eyes alone and he opened his mouth to apologize.

He hadn’t meant a word he’d just spoken to you. Your powers had always been the most beautiful things in the world to him.

You cut him off before he could even speak.

“She will never stay by your side like me. Her power may be greater than mine, but her devotion and love for you is not. That is the one thing you’ll never find again, Aleksander.” You said in a harsh tone, barely above a whisper.

He reached out for your arm but you recoiled backwards as if he was lightning and you shook your head, “Don’t touch me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t think of me. Just leave me alone.” You hissed and then turned around and stormed out of his room.

And for the first time in a long time, as soon as you reached the security of your own room, you allowed yourself to cry.

It had been nearly a month since your fight with Aleksander, and you had avoided him successfully. At first, he tried to approach you. But you easily evaded his presence each time. You stopped overseeing training and did what you could to avoid Alina, too. You spent most of your time with Baghra now, and tonight was no different.

It was the winter fete, and you had decided not to go. Aleksander had sent you an elegant invitation and a beautiful, grandiose black dress with pearly white embroidery of constellations and swirls of stars. You’d taken the box to his door and left it there without another word.

You sat in a chair next to Baghra and she let out a soft sigh, passing you a little lap blanket as you sipped on the tea she had kindly made for you.

You stared into her little fireplace and you turned to look at her to find that her eyes were already fixed on you.

“I wish desperately that you were the Sun Summoner.” Baghra spoke softly and you frowned, setting your tea down on the little table next to you.

“You and Aleksander both.” You said coldly and moved to rise from the chair you were in.

She reached out and grabbed your wrist gently, shaking her head once.

“No. Not like that. I wish that it would’ve been you. You are the only one who sees him for who he is. The only person that can see past The Darkling and instead see Aleksander.” She said with a small frown.

You sunk back into the chair and held your hand over your face, a frown etching itself onto your lips.

“It wouldn’t make a difference. I’m not enough for him regardless.” You said slowly and spread the little blanket that she had handed you out over your lap.

The old woman simply shrugged and let out a dejected sigh, leaning her chin against her hand.

“May I ask you a question? I need your honesty.”

You glanced up at her and you hesitantly nodded once. You leaned forward a bit in your chair, curious to hear what she had to ask.

“You know him best. He tells you everything. So tell me- truthfully- what are my son’s intentions with the Sun Summoner? Does he really mean to vanquish The Fold?”

You eyed Baghra with a slight frown and then you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest.

“I think if you are asking me again, you already know the answer.”

The room around the two of you was silent, save for the crackling of her fireplace. You met her eyes and she stared back at you with something between disappointment and fear.

“You lied the first time I asked.”

“Yes.”

Her mouth twisted a bit but she didn’t say anything else for a moment and she instead looked in your eyes with intent.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly and shifted your eyes down to your lap.

“I don’t fault you, child. I know that you’d do anything for Aleksander. I realize the power he holds over you.”

You didn’t even argue. Normally you’d protest him having any kind of hold over you, but you knew he did. You knew it very well. It affected almost everything you ever did.

“It’s the same power he holds over the Sun Summoner. It’s easy to seduce someone and bend them to your will when you’ve had five hundred years to practice manipulation.” Baghra noted, likely mostly to herself.

You furrowed your brow and looked up at her questioningly.

“Seducing? Who? Alina?” You asked, not liking the tone that you took on when her name fell from your lips. It was bitter, envious.

"Who else? She sneaks around at night, in and out of his chambers. It's easy for him. She's naive and he's charming, easily the prettiest boy that's ever shown her attention."

You listened to Baghra sadly and you turned your head away from facing her, your nose burning and your eyes growing hot with little pinpricks of tears. Finally, you turned your head back towards her and she frowned deeply.

"You love him."

"Of course I do, he's-"

"No. I know you love him. What I mean, is that you have fallen in love with my son." She remarked.

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. She wasn't wrong. You weren't even sure when it had happened, it could have been any time within the last four hundred years.

Baghra reached over and laid her bony hand on your wrist and you closed your eyes, sniffling quietly, keeping your tears at bay.

"I always preferred you over Luda, anyway." She said sweetly, her attempt at lightening the mood.

You let out a sad laugh and then shook your head once.

"Aleksander will always prefer a powerful woman." You said quietly and then you opened your eyes to look at the woman's face.

"You are powerful. You are very powerful. you’re capable of things no one presently on this earth has seen. Things only perhaps Morozova knew of." She said slowly and then gave you a little frown, "You just accept what you’re presently capable of as all you can do because you don't mind being second to Aleksander."

You knew she was right again. There was no use in justifying yourself to her. She would always be right.

"I'm going to tell Alina to leave this place tonight, and I think you should do the same thing. Nothing good will ever come of the path my son is choosing to walk."

You didn't feel like speaking, didn't feel like arguing. Though you would have stayed through all of his wicked plans, it was clear to you that all you had become to him was a burden. Aleksander and you had been in fights before, it was only natural to do so when you had known someone for that long. But this time had been completely different. He had never once taken a dig at you. An unrelenting sadness ensnared you entirely and you wrapped your arms around yourself tightly.

You couldn't help but wish they were his arms instead of your own.

A pair of arms did wind themselves around your shoulders and you looked up to see Baghra had risen from her chair and come to stand in front of you. You leaned into her embrace and you rested your face against her arm, reveling in the small bit of comfort she offered in the sea of your distress,

"I love you, y/n. As if you were my very own child. You deserve more than this and truthfully, you always have. Go. Please. For me. Get out of Os Alta, get away from Aleksander, give yourself the chance to be happy. To be everything you need to be for you."

Her words had fresh tears springing to your eyes and you allowed a few of them to fall onto the fabric of her robes. You brought your arms up to her torso and you clung to her like a small child.

"I love you, too." You whimpered and allowed her to soothe you by running her hand over your head and shushing you.

"Please do this one thing for yourself. You have spent four centuries giving everything you have to Aleksander. Run. Promise me you will run."

You squeezed your eyes shut and didn't move or speak for a long time. Running away from Aleksander meant that you could never come back to him. He'd condemn you forever. But staying meant that every single time you saw him would be a reminder of how you weren't enough for him.

Baghra was right. You needed to do something for yourself and yourself alone.

So you nodded one and held her tighter.

"I promise."

The cold fingers of an icy rain fell through your hair and down underneath your clothes, leaving trails of chills over your skin. The wet sloshing of water that gathered in the grass was loud under your feet and you tried to be as quiet as possible while you approached the little prison camp made especially for Grisha. You slowly crept around trees and stayed hidden for moments at a time behind the especially big ones until you were close to the tree line. You could see a few lanterns up ahead, and around it stood a few First Army soldiers.

This camp was smaller than the last one that you'd come across, with only three cages. Easy.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself out of the cover of trees and you walked across the muddy clearing in silence. Rain soaked through your clothes and left your hair in strings around your face and made the mud under your feet squelch. You looked up at the sky to find it empty. It must have been a new moon. Either that or the clouds hid the stars and the moon from your vision. The darkness around you seemed to take shape and you found yourself checking your periphery for anyone. You had to remind yourself that you wouldn't see him in these shadows. He was dead. He died in The Fold. It was all you heard for weeks as you passed from town to town all over Ravka. The Darkling was dead and the Sun Summoner was presumed to be the same, though most people had their doubts about that.

Ever since you had ran away from Os Alta, you always felt like you had to check over your shoulders and into your periphery, in fear of him finding you. It wasn't that you feared him. You just didn't want to know how he reacted to you leaving, didn't want to know what he would say to you. Truthfully, guilt ate you alive everyday since you had left, but you had to keep telling yourself it was for the best. Aleksander found you to be a burden, and he had Alina now, anyway. What did he need you for?

You continued to trudge through the muddy field, and one of the soldiers must have caught sight of you because he called for the others and pointed at you frantically. You continued to approach nonetheless and they raised their guns at you, all three standing in various places around the lanterns, which sat in what looked to be an old fire pit.

"Don't come any closer! Hands behind your head, get on your knees!" One of them commanded loudly.

You didn't obey, in fact, you picked up the pace of your steps a bit more and approached them.

The first shot that went off missed you by many feet, but the next came much closer. The third shot one of them fired off was aimed much better. You swept your arm out in front of you and deflected the shot with your kefta. You could hear them all begin to load their guns again and you finally reached them.

You reached out with a white hot light burning beneath your skin and you grabbed one of their throats and yanked him forward. He let out a loud, agonized scream, and the skin under your hand began to burn and sizzle beneath your touch. You tossed him aside and walked towards the next man. The barrel of his long gun stopped you as he pressed it against your stomach, and in the dim firelight, you could see him sneer at you.

"Ah, it's you. The Darkling's right hand." He spat and you eyed him.

You gave him a little smile and then you grabbed the barrel of his gun and you clicked your tongue.

"I am no one's right hand." You hummed and leaned closer to him as you reached up for his throat, your hand beginning to glow with the hot light of the stars.

Something blunt and hard made rough contact with the back of your head and you stumbled backwards, colliding into someone's chest with your back. You groaned and glanced behind you at the third soldier and you cursed yourself for not subduing all three faster as he dropped the gun that he had just hit you with. His hands quickly encircled your wrists and he held them apart with a steel-like grip. You struggled against him and let out an angry yell.

"You will die for your actions against the Grisha. At my hand!" You hissed and sent a backwards kick into his knee.

The soldier crumpled a bit, but he didn't release you, and you were soon faced with the point of a sharp dagger, digging into your throat, held by the other soldier that stood in front of you.

"Lock her with the others." he commanded, but neither of them made a move to lock you away.

The one holding your wrists from behind cleared his throat and squeezed your wrists tightly, his nails pressing into your skin.

"If she was really General Kirigan's right hand woman, then she is obviously powerful. We need to execute her immediately." He stated and you thrashed savagely against his grip.

"Stop moving or I will put this dagger through your windpipe!" The one holding the blade threatened and you slowly stopped moving and eyed him dangerously.

"You won't. You would have by now if you were going to." You said gruffly and he burrowed just the tip of the dagger into your skin.

"Try me, witch." He breathed.

You prepared yourself to slam your head into his and you watched his face when tendrils of shadow began to reach around his head from behind. You watched him in shock and curiosity as the tendrils covered his face and nose, and by the time he realized he was being smothered with tangible darkness, it was too late, he was already being yanked backwards. He struggled against the shadows and the other soldier yanked you backwards and pushed you down to your knees hard.

"What are you doing to him, witch?" He asked angrily and sent a kick into your side.

You gasped when his boot made contact with your rib and you crumpled onto the wet grass, rain still falling steadily. You were completely soaked with rain by now and you looked up at him as he raised his foot once more to kick you again and you covered your face with your arms protectively. Suddenly, there was a sharp, distant sounding clap, and the blow never came.

Instead there was silence in the clearing other than the whispers and groans of the three locked away Grisha and you moved your arms away from your face. The soldier above you wobbled on his feet and then his head rolled off of his neck and smacked against your ankle. You let out a bloodcurdling scream and kicked it away from you before you put your hand in something warm. You looked down at the ground behind your back and you gasped to see the other soldier, headless as well, and your hand was in a rapidly growing puddle of his blood against the already wet grass. You heard heavy footsteps and looked up fearfully. The creature that stood in front of you was two times the size of a regular man and shaped like a disfigured and fluid-like human. It was so dark that it made the moonless night around you seem sunny and you began to back away from it, still on the ground. It lunged forward at you and you screamed loudly and protectively raised your arms again.

You felt nothing but a cool burst of air against your skin and you let out a little whimper and looked up, moving your arms away from your face. You were met with two legs clad in black and your eyes traveled up the darkly clad form in front of you, a lump forming in your throat, realization washing over you, the feeling even colder than the icy rain that pierced through your clothes.

You closed your eyes, not wanting your eyes to finish their journey upwards. Your lips tugged down into a deep frown and you let out a shaky breath.

"You- you’re dead. You died."

There was silence and you opened your eyes again, and let out a startled shriek.

You were met with the scarred face of your closest friend as he knelt in front of you. Rain had plastered his normally immaculate hair onto his forehead and the sides of his face and the back of his neck. He had thin, black scars that traveled across the length of his face and there was a new hardness about him. His eyes seemed even darker than they had previously and he reached out and grabbed your chin.

You gasped when you felt his cold, wet fingers against your chin and your lip quivered as you looked into his eyes, confused and scared.

"I live. I live and breathe before you. I should have let those soldiers kill you, traitor." He hissed and you stared up at him fearfully.

You shook violently and you weren't sure if it was because of the rain, fear, or a combination of both. You shakily reached up and wrapped your hand around his wrist as he kept his hand on your chin.

"T-traitor? N-no! I didn't betray you!" You shouted and opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off recklessly.

"You left me! You abandoned me without a single word!" He bellowed and tightened his grip on your chin.

"You didn't need me anymore!" You cried, "you had Alina! She's more powerful than me, anyway! Why would you need me?" You asked, your face wet with cold rain and hot tears.

"Come on, we are not having this discus-"

"You even told me she was more powerful than I!" You exclaimed.

"Y/n, you abandoned me. Abandoned your duties at the Little Palace." He growled and tightened his grip on your chin even more.

Pain shot through your chin and your jaw and you let out a little cry, your eyes squeezing shut as you winced.

"Aleksander, you’re hurting me." You whispered in a trembling voice.

You knew he wouldn't really hurt you, but he had never been rough with you like this before and he was scaring you. Everything from the tone of his voice to the newfound deep blackness in his eyes was scaring you. Haunting you.

His grip on your chin very slowly loosened more and more until he let go entirely, and you let out a little sigh of relief before a loud sob tore itself free from your chest. You wrapped your arms around your cold, shaking shoulders and you pulled your knees up to your chin. Rain pelted the back of your head as you leaned your face down against your knees and you shivered, your teeth chattering violently.

"Get up. Come on." He said firmly through the rain.

You shook your head and held your eyes closed.

"Y/n, sweetheart, please get up. You are going to freeze out here. Look at you; you’re shivering." His tone was not warm, but it wasn't cold either. It was vacant mostly, save for the tiny bit of concern that crept into his words towards the end of his sentence.

You shook your head again and you sniffled loudly. There was a soft shuffling sound above you for a second before you felt two arms wrap themselves around your body and before you could protest, Aleksander was lifting you up into his arms. He wasn't a single drop drier than you were, yet he felt warmer; more comfortable. You didn't make a move to grab onto him as he held you, but you allowed him to gently coax your head down against his chest. His cold, wet kefta pressed against your freezing cheeks and it made you shiver just once, your head shaking before you finally relaxed against him. Everything about him was almost the same, but there was a new, ragged edge to him. To his breath, his movements, his voice, even the way he smelled. You shivered again at the thought of him being rougher around the edges after whatever it was he'd gone through and you pressed your lips together to prevent another sob. "You are cruel. You are a cruel woman. How dare you leave my side? For five hundred years you have been faithful to me. How could you?" He asked. His voice was no longer empty; it was full of sorrow.

You shook your head as it laid upon the side of his chest and you let out a shaking sigh.

"Why would I have stayed? I was reminded every single day that I wasn't enough for you. You let Alina disrespect me, you called me crazy and jealous when I asked you to put an end to it. You told me she was more powerful than me, Aleksansder! You told me you wished I was more powerful! Why would I have stayed?" You repeated and lifted your head away from his chest to look up at him.

Raindrops streaked down his face and fell from his lashes, down over his lips and off of the tip of his nose. He looked glorious in the minimal light of the nighttime with his hair unkempt and wet as it hung in his ink-like eyes and he shook his head as he looked down at you.

"I didn't mean it. Not a single word of it." He said ashamedly, almost shouting over the rain.

"I am your best friend! I love you! I would do anything for you," you began and then you reached up and covered your face with your hands, "and yet, you casted me aside as soon as you got a shiny new toy. I know. She's the Sun Summoner. She will save the world. I can make pretty stars with my fingers and can only swear loyalty to you. I can't expand your Shadow Fold, I can’t do the things she can do!" You cried and moved your hands away from your face to look into his eyes once more.

Emotions swirled within his deep brown eyes and he tightened his arms around your body as he held you against his chest as if you were no larger than a small child.

"You just need to let me go." You said tearfully and bit your bottom lip sharply, "Let me go and we can go our separate ways, and then you can get back to your plans, you can find your precious little Saint." You exclaimed miserably.

The way he stared down at you was unlike any other way he'd ever looked at you before. He stared at you much like a devout follower would stare at their deity and his jaw flexed a few times, the skin over it pulled taut against the bone.

"Don't you see? I needn't search for my precious little Saint any longer." He remarked quietly, his tone reverent.

"And why is that?" You asked sadly.

No warning could have ever truly prepared you for the way his lips fell upon yours. He kissed you with a sadness that you could feel all the way in the center of your chest, and after the initial shock wore off, you kissed him back, your eyes falling shut. His lips moved against yours resolutely and you reached up with a cold, rain slick hand to hold the side of his scarred face. His sadness melted into something a bit softer and more inviting, and the moment you thought you could put a name to the feeling, he was pulling his lips away from yours. He laid his forehead down against your own and he closed his eyes.

“I do not need to search for my precious little Saint any longer because she is here, in my arms as we speak.” He whispered.

You felt all the color drain from your already pallid face and you looked up into his eyes.

“What do you even mean?” You asked exasperatedly and you let your hand fall away from his cheek.

“I mean… You. You are my precious little Saint. You are my closest and dearest friend, and you are the love of my life. Did you know that?” He asked softly and then nudged the tip of his nose against yours.

Your stomach dropped dramatically and you pulled your forehead away from his. You stared up at him with a shocked expression.

There was absolutely no way.

You blinked a few times confusedly and then you laid your head back down against his chest and rested your hand over his heart, tapping your fingers against his kefta.

“I am not.” You whispered and closed your eyes.

“I’ll spend forever trying to convince you that you are, sweetheart. You’re mine. Don’t you see? You always have been. For five hundred years, you have been mine.” He murmured and pressed his lips against your ear as he spoke, “You are mine. No one else can have you. I’d kill whoever tried.” He breathed against the shell of your ear and it gave you goosebumps. You gathered the thick fabric of his lapels up in your fist and you shook your head a few times.

“Deny it all you want, but I know you feel the same. I could feel it in your kiss, my sweet little star.” He mumbled and pressed a lingering kiss against your ear.

Your mouth opened and closed stupidly and you let out a shaking breath.

“If I don’t deny it, you will one day shatter my heart.” You whispered and leaned closer to him.

The rain around you had slowed to a drizzle now and little beads of water were dripping from his hair down onto your cheeks as you laid on his chest. The very faint light of the stars behind the rain clouds in the night sky was enough for you to see the frown on his lips and he shook his head.

“Never. I’ll never break your heart. Oh, it’s far too precious.”

His words bounced back and forth in your head and you tugged his kefta gently, a particularly violent shiver ripping through your body.

“Please, just take me somewhere warm. Somewhere safe. Somewhere with you.” You begged softly and hid your face against his wet clothes, “I’ll go wherever you go.”

He nodded once and gave you a little reassuring squeeze before he whispered something about home near your ear. The patter of the rain made it nearly impossible to make out entirely but what you did catch melted your heart.

“… and it doesn’t matter where we go, because when I’m with you, it is home.”

Little specks of rainbow light glimmered all over your bedroom, bouncing off of mirrors and glass to create even more little flecks of color throughout the room. The crystals on your dress sparked brilliantly as you stood in the window, watching the sun set. A deep purple horizon was settling over the land just beyond your windowpane and you let out a soft sigh.

Your head was heavy with the weight of a brilliant crown, made of black metal and sharp, glimmering diamonds. Your silvery dress was tugged down with the weight of a thousand little crystals and you watched as their light refractions danced across your walls. You were a sight to see.

Formidable, graceful, beautiful.

You were a queen.

Not just a queen. The Queen.

Against all the odds, against every enemy, and against each and every opposer, Aleksander managed to take The Firebird as his own amplifier and he put an end to the incessant thorn in his side that was the Sun Summoner.

His plan, no, both your plan and his had been entirely successful. For hundreds of years, Aleksander chased the crown. He waited patiently for it. Sat in the shadows, stalked, paced, and plotted for it. And it was finally his. The night he saved you from almost dying, he’d taken you to his sanctuary and promised you on both of his knees that he’d give you a crown and a love like you’d never known before and you’d never know again.

He made good on both promises.

The day had been eventful. After a long banquet in the morning, you’d been crowned queen in front of only Grisha while Aleksander was given the title of king.

Aleksander Morozova. The Darkling King.

His title made you shiver practically and you let out a soft sigh as you continued to watch the night sky swallow up the blue of the day with deep purples and pinks.

It was over. It was all over. The war, the fighting, the conflict, all of it. Aleksander would now waste no time in stopping Grisha persecution all over Ravka and everything would be right in the world.

“Is the Queen pleased with her view?”

Two strong hands found their way around your waist and pulled you backwards. Your back was pressed up against Aleksander’s chest and you closed your eyes softly, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

“Ah, very much so. Though, I think you’re the better view, my King.” You whispered.

He swept all of your hair out of his way and lowered his lips down to the nape of your neck, trailing butterfly-wing-light kisses to your skin.

“You flatter me.”

“Do you not deserve it?”

“Perhaps I do. But perhaps I don’t. If you find me worthy of flattery then I must be doing something right, angel.” He mumbled and dragged his lips around the side of your neck.

“I find you worthy of all beautiful things.” You whispered and tipped your head to the side as he pressed his soft lips to your skin.

“Ah, so I must be worthy of you.”

“Of course.”

He hummed contently as he playfully nipped at your skin on your neck and he smiled into the side of your neck.

“This country is ours now. Ours to have and ours to keep and ours to have, hold, and protect. How does that make you feel?” He asked softly and lifted his head away from your neck. He leaned his cheek against the side of your head and traced his fingers over your waist as he awaited your reply.

It made you feel powerful. Strong. He made you feel that way. You loved him. You loved him more than words could possibly have ever said, and you were lucky that he loved you back. The Sun Summoner drew breath no longer, the former prince Nikolai sat in a cell underneath the Palace accused of treason, and Aleksander and you assumed the roles of the two most powerful Grisha to ever exist. You felt ecstatic.

You looked up at him and his eyes shifted down to yours and you gave him a little smile.

“I’ll show you.”

And you stood up on your toes to reach him and you pressed a kiss to his lips. One of gratitude, one of happiness.

One of five hundred years worth of love.

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #grishaverse #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

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skrrts · 16 days

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Home Is ✧ seonghwa version (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x park seonghwa ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, fluff, romance ✧ word count: 1,4k

You have found the love of your life, and now the two of you are ready for the next step in your relationship: moving together. Neither of you can wait to finally be able to spend every day together but it's out of the question ... the whole progress looks a lot more casual and aesthetical on social media than it actually is. Chaos. Why are there so many cups and should you go for the aesthetical or the useful setup2? But wait a moment... did you see seonghwa's most beloved animal crossing lego figures? there is no way you continue unboxing until it's found.

a/n: #1 of my friday oneshot series for September ft. the hyung line. i meant to do them in order but after watching hwa's live stream, i changed my plans. just something short and chaotic for the start of the weekend. also, for some reason, this might be part of the animal crossing proposal universe... they just fit so well together.

Did you always own so many plates? You couldn't stop wondering when you went through three boxes of plates, cups, and other smaller kitchen items. Seonghwa and you both previously lived in very tiny apartments and on all the days you spent at your boyfriend's place, it just never felt like it just was as much. You carefully turned the cups around that very likely were gifts from Hongjoong because they had handpainted little doddles on them.

There was a wild mixture of elegant pieces and a few very silly ones from Animal Crossing to Star Wars you carefully took out of the cardboard box with his name on it. Now, you couldn't part with those, could you? A small sigh followed as you started to make two pills, a keep and one you'd likely donate. Nobody needed that many.

It still felt like a fever dream to realize it really happened, Seonghwa and you made the step of moving together. Now that you finally graduated and picked up a job, it was the logical decision and you managed to find the perfect apartment, it was still small but cozy with a tiny balcony just big enough to put a table and two chairs out. There was a giant old oak tree outside, offering some privacy.

Seonghwa's small noise made you look up. He was about to unbox his selection of Lego figures after you two spent all morning putting together a new shelf dedicated only to them. You placed the cups aside and walked over, finding him going through a box in semi-panic, long hair falling out of his little ponytail.

"I can't find it!" A name was added but you had given up trying to remember all of the little Animal Crossing figures, there just were too many. Your boyfriend looked up, blinking.

"Is one of them missing?" Seonghwa nodded as he went through the other box again: "It's the bunny! The one I used for the special surprise for you! I know I put it in one of the boxes, I was so sure it was with the garden set!"

You rubbed a hand over your cheek before moving over: "Let me help you." After all, there was no way it was gone, so maybe it just slipped into the wrong box. The truth was that just maybe, you were a little distracting when Seonghwa tried to pack but it had been difficult not to, your excitement just had been so high on that day. You might be guilty there.

"Are you sure you put into the bubble wraps? Maybe it stayed in one of the sets," you offered as you checked the ones he already emptied to see if maybe, it got stuck in the additional paper to protect them from being thrown around in the box.

Seonghwa frowned, trying to remember when he really had it for the last time. "I was sure I did put it in here but ... now I am not sure anymore. Let's check those."

He turned around, looking at the remaining two boxes with Lego. "Let's split it up, I will take the upper one and you can take out the other. Then we also just can unwrap everything and see if it is there."

You walked over and took his hand, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "It is okay, Hwa. I am sure we will find it," you promised and he sighed, a soft smile spreading on his lips. "You are right. It's just special, you know? Everything that is tied to a memory with you is." His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you a little closer.

Seonghwa always was sentimental, he loved to collect pieces that reminded him of a moment in his life he enjoyed and you always thought just how sweet that was. "You will forever judge me for being unable to remember the name but I know how much it means to us. I am sure it is right there, just teasing us."

He offered a lazy smile: "You are right, considering it is my figure, he likely does." He smiled, seeing you giggle before letting you go, and clapped his hands together the same way he did when he announced he'd clean your messy apartment.

"Let's do this!"

You picked up the other box and very carefully unwrapped all of the small Lego figurines, placing them on the desk before starting to take out the scenery sets. You gifted Seonghwa a few of those last year for his birthday and he treasured them ever since. As you placed it on the table and removed the protective wrap, there it was.

The little bunny figure was napping in the middle of the star death ship or whatever it was called.

"I found the criminal, about to destroy our apartment," you called out, laughing. Seonghwa was over in a second, gasping: "I can't believe this! Such a betrayal! What is your excuse for leaving your fiance alone?!" He scolded the little figure on purpose, making you chuckle. Seonghwa walked over to the shelf with the other Animal Crossing and placed it next to its announced counterpart.

"Now it's where it belongs," he hummed.

You threw the wrapping back in the box, crossing your arms with a smile: "The day has been saved. Such an excitement." No doubt this was much more enjoyable than carrying all of those upstairs, even with the help of seven people and your families.

Seonghwa's gaze softened as he looked at you, walking over. He cupped your chin and lifted your head a little, his thumb brushing over your cheek making your heart jump.

"You know how much I love you? Never judging how silly I am," his voice was soft and full of affection.

"And I love you because you are just like that," you whispered and he leaned in to share a tender kiss, one you wouldn't mind to last forever.

Seonghwa was smiling into it and before you knew it, turned into a teasing grin, and suddenly, the floor underneath your feet was gone and you were lifted up on top of his arms.

"Hwa! What are you doing?" you blushed, looking at his pretty face as he carried you over to the to-be bedroom with little effort. You decided on a new bed, one that only would be delivered in a few days so you set up a mattress in the form of a little semi-blanket castle as the sky above it.

"Placing our world to your feet," he whispered and placed you down carefully before laying down as well, pulling you closer to him.

This was nice, you could smell his perfume and admired how hair framed his face as he undid his ponytail. Soon, you were snuggled against him and you two sighed contently.

"Can't wait to do this for the rest of our lives," he whispered, placing little kisses on top of your hair. You nodded, your fingers brushing over his stomach muscles: "I know... it's strange to think we really no longer have to say any goodbyes. I can't wait, for all the memories we will make living together now."

There was a moment of silence before you two laughed in sync: "We really are sappy, aren't we?" Seonghwa asked and you looked up, grinning: "Mhm, we are hopeless." He smiled, a hand resting against his cheek: "Good, I'd not want it any other way. Now we will make this our own little dream island."

That sounded amazing, really.

"Do we also have to become best friends with the neighbors here?" You asked, winking as you snuggled back against him.

Your boyfriend chuckled as he relaxed back into the pillow: "Well, let's say I'd not be opposed to it but we also won't have to worry. I am quite confident that our friends will come over often enough to make it about the same experience."

Your friends and family, now your worlds really slowly melted into one. "They better bring gifts then;" you teased and closed your eyes.

"I'm sure they will but I'll make sure to take good care of you always," Seonghwa whispered in his gentle voice. You only nodded, yawning as you slowly drifted off.

You once read in some countries, they believed the first dream of a new home would come true. Yours was about a life with Hwa, so you gladly would embrace this. Always.

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez au #ateez writing #park seonghwa x reader #sh tag #home is #seonghwa fluff #ateez fluff #fluff tag #reis writes

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kurim-chis · 1 year

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blade/yingxing x reader scenario:

kurim: blade’s past name was yingxing, supposedly

(blade sees your smile, beautiful and loving and inviting as he remembers you to be — when he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and pretends he can have this, at the very least. you were so lovely, so very lovely, and the man he once was - yingxing - had truly loved you in a way he could not love anyone else)

you and yingxing were lovers, decades ago when he was still part of Xianzhou and you a person he fell in love with, yingxing liked building you trinkets and taking you to eat during the weekends and seeing your smile and he would throw hands with jing yuan because he always teased him and called him a love sick puppy

you and yingxing were some of the short-lived species in Xianzhou, you were content in XXXX area and yingxing was a genius amongst genius in crafting, building and creating tools, machinery, weapons and works of arts.

you and yingxing had your whole life planned out, it was not hard to when there was so much to do and so little time to do it, but you two are determined to make your lives count despite the looming threat of the abundance hanging over their head and the wars Xianzhou has to partake in and how nothing is determined in life, but you two love each other, but then this happens, but then that happens, but but butbutbutbut—

yingxing becomes mara-struck.

yingxing kills you in his first mara-struck rampage/haze.

yingxing will forever remember it - your blood is very warm and wet, even as he drops to his knees and tries tries tries but there’s nothing he can do because you’re already dead — he might have screamed, howled until his throat burst and his lungs collapsed and mended themselves, he might’ve had fought against jingliu too as well, he doesn’t quite know. he cannot remember anything apart from a red haze, doesn’t remember if you had screamed or tried to fight back or tried running away, but one look at you shows just how horrible a death you had experienced in your last moments. blade will have forever etched the image of your mangled body in his memory, because of course yingxing will have.

this is the first step towards the death of yingxing’s ego, and what will eventually create blade, an abomination who seeks for death and yet is denied time and time again, who is only left with vengeance and violence as a driving force for moving and breathing and fighting because he has nothing else

yingxing was a man who committed many great mistakes and paid for it with everything in his life, including the one he loved

blade is the remains of that man’s ego, the hatred and grief and anger and obsession and destruction and love, a monster given eternal life and reduced to a mad dog of destiny’s slave, all for the sake of reaching paradise

blade lives for the sake of dying — he lives for death, for vengeance, for the possibility of paradise

(blade sees your smile, beautiful and loving and inviting as he remembers you to be — you smile and smile and smile, perhaps a little sad but as lovely as he remembers and he wants to reach out for you with his bloodied hands, but you are unreachable, a ghost of his past, the victim of his sins, and he can do nothing but watch you stand on the other side of the river of stars. blade thinks that you’re as lovely as yingxing remembers you to be, waving at him, smiling at him, always smiling at him)

elio promises an ending to his wretched existence.

blade will stop at absolutely nothing to reach his desired paradise.

(you smile at him, and blade thinks that you still look so very lovely, decades after your death)

i’m sorry, i’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me, it was all my fault, if only i hadn’t—

(you only smile, and then blade opens his eyes to find his mangled body healing and mending and stitching together again)

#kurim writes hsr #blade x reader #blade sees death as a paradise he cannot attain sooooo #here’s the equation: you = dead = paradise #EXTREMELY SELF-INDULGENT I GUESS #i wanted something angst #hsr blade #hsr #blade x you #honkai star rail #in this house we swim in the pool of blade’s suffering #actually that’s kind of weird because I swear i wasn’t this obsessed over him before #I actually kind of liked Jing Yuan more :P #hsr scenarios #hsr imagines

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erwinsvow · 10 months

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𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

summary: you and aaron are having a hard time deciding on a baby name.

word count: 1.5k

author's note: eeeeeeee x3. cannot stop writing for aaron, especially domestic, happy aaron. not bau!reader but i stole elements from that story too, linked here. i really loved this one!

now spinning

You had thought time would fly by during pregnancy, or at least that’s what everyone else made it seem like. You felt like all you’d heard so far was warnings to enjoy this time with ‘just the two of you’ and spend your days preparing as much as you could.

You’d taken it very literally—your evenings after work were spent reading baby books and prepping food to store in the freezer.

Your days off from work, and even the rare, treasured weekend Aaron has off, is spent looking at paint samples (all yellows and greens, even though you’ve known it’s a girl since the two of you had Jack take a big bite out of a cupcake with raspberry frosting inside) and browsing websites for a car seat and a stroller. Aaron digs through the garage for Jack’s old things, and comes out with a sturdy wooden crib and a beautiful bassinet.

Aaron doesn’t worry as much as you, of course, and he has the best dad instinct you’ve ever seen. It comes so naturally to him, you almost worry about yourself. Will it be this easy for you?

You have experience parenting now, thanks to Jack and all the time you spent with him and Aaron even before you got married, but he barely counts. He’s an angel child—one who asks for extra servings of vegetables, does his homework without being asked, and never complains when you have to remind him to tidy up his room.

Besides a few puzzle pieces and various, outgrown sports gear scattered throughout the house—your house, your family home, you think fondly— he always puts away his belongings in the proper place.

He even reminds you and Aaron of his upcoming school projects and which commitments he penciled in for—a friend’s birthday party next weekend (When should we go get the gift?) and a class field trip next month (They need two more chaperones. Should I ask Uncle David?)

You’re convinced you’ll never have it this easy with another child. You start over preparing the week you find out you’re pregnant, after Aaron smothers you in kisses and hugs.

He takes you out to dinner with the team—another rare, treasured event, but not because he doesn’t want to, just because they’re always on a case—and you break the news to them when you turn down a glass of wine from Emily, who looks at you quizzically. No more wine for nine months, you had said. Ten, JJ corrected.

You’re seven months now, halfway to eight. Pregnancy brain is very real and has affected you like crazy. You keep forgetting to go grocery shopping and then you keep misplacing the paper grocery list Aaron keeps on the fridge with a little magnet. You and Jack have been eating a lot of take-out, and he’s not complaining but he still inquires about his vegetable intake over slices of pizza.

“You know, the baby is the size of a coconut right now,” you tell Aaron on the phone, rubbing your stomach. Your back has been killing you lately, another thing you had read about happening nearing month eight in your baby books of horror.

Aaron offers a massage when he’s around but it always hurts the most when he’s gone. Besides, his massages are what got you into this predicament in the first place.

Jack is asleep on the sofa right next to you. He had asked to watch Star Wars before bed—it’s a Friday night and he has no soccer practice tomorrow, and you are a perpetual good cop who can’t say no—so you had cozied up with him and a bowl of popcorn on the couch while The Empire Strikes Back played quietly in the background. You move your hand back to stroke his hair while he sleeps.

“Really, sweetheat? A coconut?” Aaron says. The team is up in Connecticut, and though he’s gone and you wish he was here with you, you’re thankful he’s in the same time zone.

You’re not sure about the case and can’t stomach the gory details anymore, but you think they must have made some strides since he’s staying on the phone with you and not in a rush to leave.

“Uh-huh, that’s what my book said. Never knew a coconut could kick this hard.” Aaron laughs on his side of the call, a sweet sound. You smile. “Maybe she’s kicking now to let us know she wants to play soccer like her big brother.”

“A prodigy in the making. Speaking of, does Jack have practice tomorrow?” Aaron likes to remind you of these things because he knows you keep forgetting.

“No, nothing tomorrow, I triple checked. And this little brainiac is just like you, keeps reminding me so I don’t wake him up at seven-thirty tomorrow.”

You hear Aaron laugh again. It all feels very domestic. Your mouth hurts from smiling.

“Aaron, it’s getting to that time. We need to pick a baby name soon. Any crazy ex-girlfriends or female serial killers we need to avoid?”

“Well there’s certainly a few. Serial killers, that is, not the other thing. What are you thinking so far?”

“Well my book said-” Aaron groans on the other end. “Hey! Don’t knock my book, it’s helpful.”

“Honey, your book had you convinced the baby would be missing fingers and toes if you had a turkey sandwich.”

“Deli meat is bad during pregnancy! So is sushi, thank you very much. I’d rather not risk my baby’s digits just because you wanted subs.”

“Reid said that’s not true and everything’s fine in moderation.”

“I’m sorry, has Reid ever birthed a human before?”

“Point taken. Your book also said your heartburn isn’t a big deal because it just means the baby will have a full head of hair-” “JJ said that too! And she said Henry had lots of hair-”

“And it also said sex during pregnancy is bad. Remember that?” Your face heats up. Damn him, making you blush even when he’s hundreds of miles away.

“Oh, whatever. Just tell me which names we have to avoid. I think we should do something with a J, though. Make it matching.”

“Very sweet, honey. Jordan? Juliet? June?”

“Hmm,” you ponder carefully. Even if it’s silly, this feels like one of the biggest decisions you’ll ever make. “I like them all but I don’t love them. They’re too… something. Too new maybe.”

“Older names, then? Joy, Josie, Julia?”

“I like those too. Should we really name our child after a Beatles song though?”

“I think that’s a great idea, don’t you?” You can almost hear it in Aaron’s voice—he’s relaxing for the moment. Either they’ve already caught the unsub or you have a bigger impact on him than you thought you did.

“Well if we’re gonna do that then we should at least use Eleanor or Michelle. Or Lucy! I like Lucy.”

“I’d prefer not to name our daughter after a song written about hallucinogens.”

“Aw, you're no fun. How about Anna?”

“What happened to wanting to match with Jack?” he asks.

“Ah, let the kid have his own identity. If he had it his way we’d name the baby Leia or Yoda.”

“Leah’s not bad. Pretty and simple. Four letters, keeping the trend.”

“That’s not a Beatles song!” You hear Aaron groan.

“You have too many demands, honey.” “No, I’m just picky. You should consider it a compliment, I’m choosy and I chose you, remember?”

“Vividly. Prudence, then?”

“Oh, that’s pretty.” You try to picture it written on holiday cards and homework sheets. Prudence Hotchner. You say it aloud to test the feel of it. “Prudence Hotchner. Prue Hotchner.”

“Sweetheart, I was joking.”

“You should never joke around a pregnant woman. I like it, it’s so pretty. Pretty Prudence.”

“You don’t think it’s a little old?”

“Well, her father is an old man who wants to name her after a Beatles song, so yeah, it’s very fitting. Doesn’t it just roll right off the tongue? Prudence Hotchner? We could call her Prue.”

“Prue is very cute. I like Prudence Joy.”

“Oh, I love Prudence Joy. Prudence Joy Hotchner. I like it so much. I’m tempted to wake up Jack and ask if he likes it. Will you ask the team if they like it too?”

“I will, honey. Isn’t it time to sleep now?”

“Yes, I’ve just been putting it off. Jack’s asleep next to me, I have no idea how I’ll get him upstairs without waking him.”

“If you wake him he’ll be able to fall asleep again, as long as it’s quick-” “I know, honey, don’t worry about us.”

“Can’t help it.” You can’t stop the smile that spreads, cheek to cheek. You have a feeling he’s smiling too.

“You’ll ask the others, right? About Prudence?”

“Yes, honey, I will. I’ll see them in a little bit, I stepped out to call you while I made another cup of coffee.”

“Oh, Aaron, it's so late for coffee,” you chide, lovingly. Don’t drink a whole cup please. I wish you guys would drink tea instead. Or at least decaf.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I gotta go now. Kiss Jack goodnight for me?” “Of course.”

“And play Prudence her song, then?” You can’t contain the smile on your face.

“Of course. Good night from all three of us, Aaron.”

#hope everyone likes this one!#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #hotch drabble #aaron hotch

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hyper-fixated-delusions · 1 year

Text

To be or not to be.

High school Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

A/N: I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)

Translation: “Sestra.” Sister.

Word count: 1,034.

Masterlist.

So there Wanda was, standing by her locker talking to her friends when she spots you, her girlfriend, just a few feet away talking to your own friends looking as adorably cute as ever.

Which was completely unfair if you ask Wanda, since she is supposed to mad at you and you definitely shouldn't be looking as cute as you are looking right now because the only thing it does is cause longing in her heart for you, wanting to make up so she isn’t away from you for any longer.

But being the stubborn person that she is, the brunette does the only thing she allows herself to do. Which is continuing to stare at you from afar, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she nibbles on it.

As you stand laughing and joking around with your friends. You suddenly feel like someone is looking at you, so you glance around the halls, only for your eyes to land on your girlfriend who is staring at you intently from a couple of feet away. Lip between her teeth and a look you know all too well.

Which throws you off slightly if you’re being completely honest, since you were 100% sure Wanda has been mad at you for the past 5 days. But even in your confusion, you can’t help but shoot Wanda a soft smile and then proceed talking to Bucky, Peter and Sam again.

Wanda seeing your cute smile, can’t help but feel her resolve slowly break and after debating with herself for a good few minutes on whether or not to approach you. The brunette decides to take action and goes up to you.

“Hey, can we talk?” She asks once she’s in front of you.

You nod then turn to your friends, “I’ll catch you guys later alright?” You say, then walk away with your girlfriend.

Both of the girls make their way down the hall, when suddenly Wanda stops in front of the Janitors closet. Looking both ways to make sure no one is around, she opens the door.

“So what did you want to talk about?” You ask, but suddenly you’re yanked inside the closet by the hem of your shirt. “Wha-?” You begin but are cut off by Wanda’s lips basically attacking your own.

Wanda kisses you with such an intensity that when you pull back you’re left speechless, "wow," you breathe. “Not that I'm complaining, because I’m totally not, but what was that for?” You ask with a dopey smile, causing Wanda to glare at you with no actual malice behind her eyes.

“Oh no, don’t look at me like that!” Wanda says, arms crossing on her chest as she tries to remain serious, “because even though we did just make out inside this closet, it doesn’t mean that I'm not still mad at you, because I really am,” she frowns. “But you seriously just had to wear your glasses today, didn’t you? You know how I feel about you in glasses, it makes me weak!” She pouts, “Also the whole Star Wars shirt. Could you be any more nerdy? You look so cute and adorable that it hurts! You shouldn’t be able to break my resolve! Ugh!” The brunette rambles, arms thrown up in the air in frustration.

“I-I lost my contacts and Star Wars premieres this weekend, I’m sorry?” You say weakly, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I know, I figured as much,” Wanda sighs softly. “But you make it so hard to stay mad at you baby, and it’s beyond infuriating! So now I'm going to kiss you until l either feel angry again or we just go back to our day to day lives," the brunette says as she pushes you against the wall and cups your face to kiss you once again.

Both you and Wanda stay inside the closet making out for another good 10 minutes when you pull back slightly and say, “so, what's the verdict babe?”

Wanda rolls her eyes, a small smile on her lips as she says, “I'm no longer mad.”

“Okay good. So can we go back to hanging out with our friends?” You ask and Wanda nods.

As both girls walk out of the janitors closet, hand in hand and towards their friends, you stop walking for a moment to place a soft kiss on Wanda's forehead, the short brunette sighing happily as she moves forward to hug you close, an action that causes Natasha's voice to boom down the hallway.

“Hey Stark, you owe me 10 dollars!” The redhead exclaims.

“Damn it, you lovebirds! Couldn't you have waited 2 more days?” Tony yells back, looking at both you and Wanda disapprovingly, causing you to pull apart and walk the short distance to the group.

“Wait, what?” You ask with a laugh once you’re standing in front of your friends.

“We were all betting to see how long you'd stay mad at each other. The majority of the group said 1 or 2 days, I said 5 and Tony said 7. So I win!” Natasha boasts, with a happy smirk.

“Okay, how about this! Bonus round, did Wanda cave or did Y/N actually do something to get out of the dog house? Another 10 bucks says it was Y/N,” Carol says.

“No way, it was definitely my sestra,” Pietro chimes in with a smirk.

“Nope, Y/N!” Steve exclaims.

“Nah, there’s no way, it was totally Wanda!” Clint exclaims.

“Wow, I'm glad our problems amuse you all,” Wanda deadpans with an eye roll.

“So since Tony and I were actually the closest, this is between us two and my money is on Wanda caved, what about you Tony?” Natasha says.

“Y/N, did something.” Tony says, eyes squinting with certainty.

“So what is it?” All the friends exclaim at the same time.

You wince slightly while looking at Tony and say, “sorry Tony, but Wands caved,” and all through the hall there are loud echoes of both celebration and disappointment which causes you to slightly grin.

“Nice, now pay up, playboy,” Natasha smirks, hand stretched out towards Tony.

“Damn you, red,” Tony grumbles as he hands Natasha a 20 dollar bill.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fluff #my writing #my fic #no beta #to be or not to be

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thecoffeelorian · 9 days

Text

Fandom Friday, 09/13: Fanfiction

Hello again, everyone…and welcome to another installment of Fandom Friday, the two-post series where I go off to find new and interesting fanworks that might need a bit more visibility.

Before I forget, there are just two little reminders I’d like to drop here:

First, in order to have as many examples I can gather from as many facets of the fandom I can draw from and still fit the ten-link limit…I’ve made the executive decision to do this every two weeks, even if just to give you all as complete an experience as I can.

And second, if there’s anybody not on the tag list who ends up liking this series of posts two times in a row…well, I might be tagging you in a few questionnaire posts later this weekend, as I’ll be double-checking people’s interests in pursuing stuff like this, or not.

Anyways…before I ramble on or delay any further, here are my fanfiction picks of the week!

THE PREQUELS

The Prequels Fanfiction--By @josephsaturn:

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @captn-trex:

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @dangraccoon:

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @happy-beeeps:

ROGUE ONE

Rogue One Fanfiction (Inspired Poetry)--By @colleybri:

THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY

The Original Trilogy Fanfiction--By @ladyxskywalker:

STAR WARS REBELS

Star Wars Rebels Fanfiction--By @lost-in-derry:

THE MANDALORIAN

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @djarins-cyare:

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and, on Friday every two weeks, highlight those writers who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the writers a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

And finally, so that I do not forget…thank you to my friends, thank you to this fandom, good morning, and good luck.

No Pressure Tags: @melymigo @algo-o-nada @theosb0rnway @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenabb104104 @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above @tlmtwelve @snoowply and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanfiction.

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 5 months

Text

Of Honeysuckle and Haiku [Tech x Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: This is my submission for an event hosted by the wonderful @cloneficgiftexchange, written for @apocalyp-tech-a. I hope you enjoy my first Tech x Reader! 2nd Person POV, undescribed Fem!Reader who works as an analyst/researcher for the GAR. Minor AU changes (no missing and/or dead Clones here (but Echo is still part of CF99)!). Prompt sentence/s will be orange to keep in line with the color scheme of the graphics. Tech has a “secret” crush on Reader that she knows about. Flirting is stored in the info-dumping/poetry. Star Wars and real-world swearing is as naughty as it gets. Some Mando’a. Brief references and allusions to injury and other canon-typical violence, and a small flashback where Reader’s senior colleagues are (implied to be) behaving like jerks to Tech, but nothing explicit. Use of stylistic and narrative italics. Fictional flowers.

Prompt: Can't we ever go to a nice place? | Oh, that's what that button does.

Word-count: 8,270

Another Primeday, another pile of notes in your locker.

That's how the weeks always started.

You worked closely with the Grand Army of the Republic as something of an analyst and unofficial bookkeeper, going on for two years now. Colleagues and work-friends would slip scraps of flimsiplast in the ventilation grooves of your locker as a way of non-electronic communication.

The old fashioned way, older department heads joked.

The flimsi stacks contained a mishmash of written comms. Inside jokes. Recipe trades. Reminders to get CT-6922’s helmet serviced for the video feed you needed for Jais in the Reverse-Engineering Department if they're ever going to find out how that new Separatist spider droid worked.

And a poem, written in spidery Aurebesh lettering from your “secret admirer”. Always the top of the pile that collected at the bottom of your locker.

You knew full well who it was after a while, piecing together all the clues he'd strung along for you. Game recognizes game, as they say. It took cracking a complicated cipher in order to-

Nah, who are you kidding?

You got impatient and asked Jais in R.E.D. to help you with scrubbing the security footage for the last person to stop by your locker one morning, finding a haiku waiting for you. A haiku regarding subject matter you had just been discussing with a colleague the other day who had a grueling day of carefully dissecting a Flame Beetle from Kashyyyk ahead of them, and you were slated to assist them.

The shimmering shell That conceals a beetle’s wing Is called elytra - I wish I was a beetle

Mild alarm that someone was messing with you turned to curiosity soon after; it had been Tech of Clone Force 99 who dropped the poem into your locker some weeks ago.

He'd been helping the analysts while he got his leg in working order, having broken both the tibia and fibula of his left leg in a skirmish. (That's about as much as you knew at the time.) Tech would be returning to fieldwork sooner than later; between check-ups and some physical therapy work, the genius and navigator of CF99 kept himself busy here, so he would still feel useful to the GAR while recovering.

Of all the analysts Tech assisted, you seemed to be his favorite given that you actually liked letting him help you, and didn't saddle him with a dull day of deskwork like some of the senior analysts who wanted him out of their hair.

You felt it was incredibly unfair to Tech, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. You'd tried.

Instead of reading this week's new stack of flimsi notes from your weekend off at your locker, you decide you'll read them at your desk for a change. The smell of Tech’s typical caf blend is particularly inviting this morning. It’s been raining since last week, this morning the hardest yet. Thank the Maker you had a rain repeller in proper working order for the walk to the research center from the speeder cabs.

“Good morning, Tech.”

Sitting down, from around the other side of the desk, you can see he's in a walking boot now. An improvement from when you last saw him just two short days ago.

“Hey, that's a good sign! Think you'll be back with the rest of the Bad Batch soon?”

You take no offense when his eyes do not lift from the screen of his datapad. “Good morning. I suppose, yes…” He doesn't sound entirely enthusiastic like one might've expected, but you have enough of a grasp on his mannerisms by now to know that Tech is eager to return to his brothers in due time.

You've met the rest of his squad on a handful of occasions as they've come to check on him, making sure he's not missing all the action by keeping him up to speed on their exploits.

Smiling, you slide a cup of caf you believe to be Tech’s closer to him as you leaf through the notes from your locker.

“Don't let your caf get cold.”

The datapad drops away. “That is for you,” he explains, “if you desire to try it, that is. I recalled you expressing interest in the last blend of caf I brought in, saying that it smelled good last Taungsday.”

You blink, surprised he remembered those details. Well, not that surprised; you understood Tech had a remarkable memory that allowed him to recall obscure details. It’s saved you from a few headaches, like that same Taungsday when a visiting representative from Glee Anslem insisted upon having the innocuous bouquet of Nabooian Honeysuckles sent off for allergen testing. Whatever it was that provoked the Nautolan’s (thankfully minor) allergic reaction, it was not the flowers, though they were refused return.

Shame… the delicate white, orange and cream blossoms were such a thoughtful gift from Senator Amidala to the visiting representative and now they look so out of place on your desk, still in the elaborate ceramic vase they came in. You’re going to need to find a way to return it to Ms. Amidala once the flowers have shriveled and lost all their silky petals.

Thanking Tech for the thoughtfulness behind brewing you a cup of caf, you give it a careful taste and find the flavor far more robust than the instant mix the breakroom keeps on hand while you read the first of the notes. (Looked to be a heads-up that a commando had some grisly footage to be analyzed because Trandoshan pirates were involved and the credits were on Delta Squad being responsible.)

“Mmm… That’s nice. Thank you again, Tech.”

“You are welcome.” he replies, half-ducking his head back down into the datapad, though his eyes remain on you.

Framed by the yellow lenses of the black-strapped goggles he wears, there is an observative nature to those brown eyes. The phenotypic eye color for all Clones is brown, he explained to you once. Though yes, there were a few aberrations in physical traits among his brothers in the GAR, just not quite to the same scale as the experimental squadron that Echo from the 501st Legion (once thought to be dead) joined not long ago. Echo still keeps in contact with the 501st, Captain Rex and a brother named Fives the closest of all. You figure what he must have been reading off his tablet before he came in this morning were more messages from his brothers.

Setting aside notes as you read them, you’re careful to keep the scrap of poetry for last as always. Wonder what it’ll be today. A sonnet? Free-verse? Acrostic or maybe a limerick? Another haiku? Tech seemed to love leaving you haikus most of all.

Still finding his eyes upon you, you lay aside the last note about keeping an eye out for a missing label-maker and delicately clear your throat. “Yes, Tech?” You’re careful to offer him a friendly smile, a quiet measure of assurance that you’re not annoyed or disturbed by his watchfulness.

“Senator Amidala sent a letter of apology to the center regarding the honeysuckles and vase,” he begins, explaining the letter was forwarded to everyone who worked in the analysis department, “and since she feels terrible about the situation inadvertently caused for both her guest and the center, she suggested someone is welcome to keep both, if they wish.”

“Well that’s very kind of the senator.” you reply, giving the flowers on your desk a look of consideration, one that prompts a strange expression out of the genius you generously share your desk with.

You ask what the matter is with another swig of caf.

“I hope you don’t mind too terribly that I… accepted on your behalf.” Tech confesses, aware he’s more than likely crossed a line by doing so. You and Tech do not know each other all that well, but he’s strung together enough clues to have some idea of what you like. He’s noticed what you give the most attention to, and you had secretly been admiring the Nabooian bouquet for some time on Taungsday…

Cautiously, Tech adds, “You could always give them to a friend.”

Casting a third glance over the tri-colored flowers, Tech is assured that won’t be necessary, and he’d been correct in his assessment all along. “I don’t mind at all; thanks for saving me the trouble. I was secretly hoping to take these home, I’ve been obsessed with Naboo for a while now…” you admit, dropping your voice into a near-conspiratorial whisper.

There was an often sunny windowsill back home with plenty of space for the vase and flowers that would make for the perfect spot to show both off. Maybe it’d inspire you to finally take that trip to Naboo you always wanted. Naboo sounded like a nice place, nestled in the Chrommell system of the Outer Rim Territories.

Idyllic, picturesque, it was often described.

All this analyst-work had you in a position to see the glorious, the gory, and everything in-between in the adventures of the Grand Army day in and day out. Compiling reports near and far was beginning to instill a sense of longing for adventure in you; nothing grand was necessary, just something different. Something beyond the walls of the GAR research center here among the Core Worlds.

I’ll be satisfied with a taste of adventure. Just one bite. Just one, I promise.

The yellow-lensed goggles are adjusted. “What fascinates you so much about Naboo?” Tech asks, curiosity burning at him.

“Oh… I dunno,” you say with a shrug, smiling, “it’s hard to put it all into words.” And you wouldn’t exactly have the time, either, with your shift due to start soon. While you’ve still got the time, you should finish as much of the caf as you can before it grows cold, and finally get around to this new poem Tech’s left for you. Maybe he can already guess that you know these are from him, but a part of you finds it fun in some way to pretend you don’t.

Fixing an errant strand of hair back in place, you unfold the note and read. Another haiku, today, lamenting the dreary weather.

To simpler splendors Like summer's gentle breezes and honey most sweet - When will the rain stop?

You find it curious and strange - this possible complaint - given you know Clones come from the storm-cloaked world of Kamino. Surely this weather feels just like home for him; familiar, maybe even comforting. But maybe it’s not his complaint, it could have been your own off-handed remark from some time ago that he’s echoing back to you now.

Tech’s level of observation was truly incredible, sometimes. You already felt yourself missing his knowledgeable presence once he was healed up and returned to the Bad Batch. That wouldn’t happen until he was rid of the walking boot and cleared for active duty, which was mildly comforting to you, selfishly speaking. Logically you know this arrangement is temporary, and you will not always have your willing assistant.

A willing assistant who has given his attention to closing off communications with Wrecker, from the sound of things as CF99’s genius reads the messages under his breath. Tech is trying very hard to appear like he’s not taken notice that you’ve read his latest haiku.

You set the poetry aside along with the other locker notes, and pick up your clipboard full of the day’s tasks. “Take your time, Tech.” you promise, chuckling warmly as he flashes the famous pointer finger in your direction, requesting just an extra moment. “I know Wrecker misses having his big brother around.”

Tech says nothing in response to your teasing quip, only offering an appreciative if distracted smile before he’s ready to help you with your tasks for the day.

On Primedays, the first item of business on the list is often the most nerve-wracking of all your assignments, today no exception.

“Dammit, I grabbed the wrong screwdriver… Would you mind handing me the… the, uh…?” Tech takes the incorrect screwdriver from your fingers and replaces it with what you need while you struggle to think of the name for the correct type, much to your relief. “Oh, thank you Tech. Will you need this back when I’m done?”

Tech nods, a silent promise it was no trouble. “I will not. I’m finished with what I needed it for. Feel free to use it as long as you need.” He does not need to remind you to go slowly.

Your first research assignment of the morning involves dismantled bombs, and the additional Clone tucked in one corner of the room clad in the bright orange of ordnance specialists serves as an eye-catching distraction rather than a precautionary measure. Nicknamed Reddy, this Clone trooper is only doing his job, of course; he’s supposed to be here as part of the protocol. This facility has gone one thousand and twenty-seven days without an explosive incident, which is a comforting number, but there is no room for complacency. In the unlikely event a bomb somehow reactivates, Red Wire is here to snuff it out for good.

(Or tell everyone to evacuate and seek shelter if he somehow can’t.)

Helmet clipped to his utility belt, Reddy is reading the printed report, bobbing his head in time to some jaunty tune he’s got stuck in his head. “Disarmed and partially dismantled by… CT-9903. That’s your squadmate Wrecker, right?”

“Correct.” Tech replies tersely, hoping not to prove himself distracting to you. He’s only standing as close as he is to give or take tools as you need them.

Reddy nods his head in approval of the work scattered over the examination table. “He did a good job. Definitely has the gentle touch needed for bomb disposal.” Yes… Wrecker certainly had steadier nerves than yourself right now. You would prefer not to have shaking hands, no matter how incapable this bomb is… should be… of going off.

“Reddy…”

He catches the warning. “Sorry, ma’am.”

You just need to pull off a particular durasteel plate, and take detailed pictures of a unique section of wiring to enter it into the GAR database of known bomb constructs and find close or exact matches. Then Reddy has the pleasure of disposing of the remnants for you. Fewer distractions while you remove notoriously fiddly screws, the better.

So why are your hands still shaking now that you should be able to focus again?

“... dammit…” You’ve worked yourself up about the unsteady nature of your hands now. Stress will only worsen it, prolonging the tremble. Setting the screwdriver aside is the best course of action until you can find your nerve.

Rational thoughts, you remind yourself, everyone has had this happen to them at one time or another.

“May I?” Tech offers, voice softer than you ever remember it being before now.

He is careful in offering to help without immediately trying to take over your work. Tech recognizes you are capable in all the various aspects of your job, and he does not wish to undermine or blow off your expertise. He understands from experience how that can be frustrating, even disrespectful.

And Tech aims to be very respectful of you. He's been very careful in how he's hinted his interest in you thus far. (Maybe too careful.) The haikus in your locker had been because he heard you liked poetry, and he proactively accepted the honeysuckles Senator Amidala offered for the trouble because he thought you might like them. Sharing his favorite blend of caf was a decision more premeditated than the other two.

You step to the side, accepting the offer.

“Thank you, Tech...” you say, gesturing to the tools in an unspoken measure of please, by all means. Tech takes position where you previously stood, and begins to work on the dismantled explosive. Long, dexterous fingers make the process of loosening and extracting the remaining screws look deceptively easy.

“You’ll want your datapad soon,” Tech suggests helpfully, soon down to just two more corner screws to remove.

“Oh, yes…!”

Scooping the tablet off of the examination table, you habitually skip your fingers across the reactive transparisteel and pull up the camera function, priming everything to capture the colorful chaos of wiring and circuitry inside once Tech has removed the panel. Once it is lifted out of the way, Tech side-steps to allow you in front of the bomb once more so that you can capture records for the GAR database.

However, the camera will not focus.

“Strange…” You tap the center of the screen, hoping perhaps the datapad will behave like your modern comlink and auto-focus, but it does not give you the result you hoped for. You chuckle somewhat bashfully. “Sorry, it’s… been a while since I’ve used this old datapad for taking pictures.”

“Press the red, center button on the top row twice.”

Taking the advice of the bespectacled Clone beside you, the image on the screen comes into crisp focus, not a detail lost. “Oh, that’s what that button does.” This tablet is an older generation, but the facility keeps it because it's sturdy and reliable. No sense in replacing perfectly good technology so long as it continues to work.

“Been using these tablets for ages and I never knew that. How'd you know that?” Reddy asks from the corner, safely voicing his curiosity now that the hard part is behind you. “Just real tech-savvy, I take it. That how you get your name?”

Tech smiles knowingly. “Learning the ins and outs of each machine I use is crucial to my effectiveness in service of the Republic. Much in the same way you're here to assist the researchers, analysts and reverse engineers in bomb identification, in some cases.” The second question goes unanswered, you notice, but Reddy seems to let it go.

“Hah, can't argue with that comparison!” he says agreeably, his smile sunny. You’ve always liked that about this particular member of the bomb squad; Red Wire has an optimistic disposition and general attitude despite the nerve-rattling nature of his job. He’s not terribly jaded or gruff like some of the other Clones on rotation at this facility.

Once you've collected all your necessary pictures, you are promised that he'll take it from here. “Good work as ever ma'am. I'll clean up while you get started on the search.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the help as always from both you and Tech.” you say, patting him on the shoulder before you follow after Tech, who’s already making his way back to your desk, neck craned over his datapad. Stepping past the blast doors to catch up to Tech, you breathe a sigh of relief while Red Wire begins the disposal process, the hardest task of the morning behind you.

“Glad that’s over,” you say, finally feeling your quickened pulse slowing at last, “Thank you for the help once again, Tech.” You’re certain he heard the first thank you, but extra gratitude never killed anyone.

Tech’s deliberate stride slows to match with yours. “It was no trouble. I thought you might want the help.” A polite smile breaks the veneer of the usual expression of thoughtfulness and concentration you’ve become accustomed to in the time Tech’s been here.

You’re very familiar with how he appears when he’s concentrated: the furrowed brow, his shoulders rolled forward, the subconscious setting and unsetting of his jaw as he mulls over a million thoughts. Wowing your colleagues with how he could extrapolate info from separate, complex datasets within multiple windows on the screen of his datapad without error.

The way his brown eyes, deep and dark, looked like honey when framed behind his goggles…

Sitting down at your desk where you fire up the database you’ll be working with, already you see the slight furrow of his brow as Tech takes his seat on the other side, trading messages with his squadmates while he elevates his leg to alleviate the pressure of the walking boot. Tech misses being out there in the field more and more with every passing day.

“Tell ‘em I said hi.” you request with a soft chuckle before allowing him to concentrate on keeping himself in the loop. You just have to hope his handsome face painted in deep concentration doesn’t prove too distracting for you as you cross-reference your wire samples. The squad leader of the Bad Batch, Sergeant Hunter, had teased Tech once a few weeks ago, when he dropped by with Echo, on the depths of Tech’s concentration. That’s when you’d truly taken notice of it for the first time.

Tech, utterly embroiled in some “little” project he’d created for himself here at the research center, was staying long after your scheduled hours, repeatedly promising that you really don’t have to stay here.

You turn another page in your holomag. “I’ll be fine staying here a little longer. I want to make sure none of the senior analysts bother you. Again.” It was a slow Zhellday afternoon you had no other plans for, and a couple of people a little further up the chain of command really had a bug up their ass about Tech’s presence here today in particular, continually complaining about an incident with his crutches.

Someone hadn’t been looking where they were going and bumped into the mobility aids propped against a wall, knocking them over this morning. Unfortunately, there had been a tray of glass instruments set aside nearby that did not survive the crutches’ sudden descent. The senior analysts, most of them much older than you, wanted him thrown out of the facility and have the agreement with the GAR that Tech would be here until his broken leg healed nullified.

“He’s got a broken leg! Is he supposed to just hobble around the lab without his crutches? It was an accident, but I’m starting to suspect you’re looking for excuses to get rid of him because you’re feeling threatened by his intellect!”

Clone Force 99’s second-in-command hums shortly in delayed response, a frown marring his otherwise concentrated expression. Tech adjusts his goggles as he pours over some reference. The man with partial skull iconography inked across his similarly tanned face next to Tech carefully nudges him with his elbow.

“Tech, this is when you’re supposed to tell the nice lady thank you.” Hunter warns him, teasingly of course. He’s gotten back from a long deployment, and rather than going to the nearest mess hall with Wrecker and Crosshair, he’s come to check up on Tech, finding that he’s still at the GAR research center. He’s too tired to give any kind of reprimand just for the sake of appearances.

“Especially after this morning… Don’t make me do the nat-born thing, vod.”

Tech sort of scoffs, the threat of referring to him by his CT number, like a misbehaving natural-born child hearing the use of their middle name, by his brother having little effect.

“No thanks necessary, honestly.” You turn the page to your holomag, skimming the article to see if it’s worth an in-depth read, then meet Hunter’s eye. “It was honestly a bit cathartic to have a go at those jerks.” Decrying them as jerks to the squad leader of the Bad Batch was putting it real mildly given your true thoughts of them right about now.

Echo gives you a knowing nod. The sergeant smirks, and this is what gets Tech to break his silence.

“Don’t, Hunter.”

“Glad you made a friend, Tech.” Hunter says it with complete sincerity, so far as you can tell. Leaning back in the borrowed lab chair, Hunter kicks his feet up for a moment on a corner of the desk to adjust some parts of his armor. “Wrecker might get jealous.”

“I think we all would.” Echo says with a kind chuckle.

“Plenty of me to go around,” you promised the three of them, “I love making friends with the GAR.”

A few hours later, now four items deep into your checklist for the day with the wire cross-referencing behind you, you lean back in your chair and stretch your arms above your head, feeling something pop with great satisfaction. “Mmm! That felt good. Hey, Tech?” He nods to show he hears you, at which point you continue. “I’m thinking of running home real quick during lunch to take the honeysuckles home so I’m not wrestling with those on top of everything else I’ll have to take with me tonight. You gonna be okay on your own for a bit?”

��I will be fine.” he assures you, sliding the clipboard from “your” side of the desk over to his. “I may need the password to your desk-mounted computer terminal, however.”

“It’s ‘naboofields’. All one word, no capitals, special characters or letters.”

You root around your desk for one of the seemingly innumerable sticky-flim pads you possess, scribbling down the password - just in case - as neatly as you can before removing the top flimsi-note and hand it over to him. Honeyed eyes blink once in mild surprise after he inspects your handwriting.

“Not very secure, I know.” you laugh bashfully, straightening a few sheafs of flimsiplast before gathering up the stack of locker notes to tuck them in your pocket. Busywork to avoid any kind of lecturing look. But when you meet his eyes for the moment before wondering how best to pick up the ceramic vase full of beautiful tri-colored honeysuckle, you find no disappointment. Only more curiosity.

“Have you ever been to Naboo?” Tech asks. He’s noticed this particular topic has been cropping up a lot between the idle doodles on flimsi scraps of the bulbous Shaak grazing through lush emerald fields and little reminders you’ve written to yourself scattered across your desk lately. Ticket prices. Best time of year to go. Popular festivals. Fashion. You were weaving a curious pattern.

Tech doesn’t do this very often, but he hazards a guess. Could you perhaps be… homesick?

“Were you born there?”

You shake your head. “I wasn’t born there, and I’ve never visited before. Naboo’s just some… silly dream of mine lately.”

“Why do you say ‘silly’?” The question is earnest and sincere, and Tech sits forward off the backrest of the lab chair, posture straightening out. “Has someone said something unkind about your desire to see Naboo?” He couldn’t imagine why someone would disparage this; many galactic citizens express some level of desire to visit this planet in the Chrommell sector at least once in their lifespan.

He’s assured there’s no one being unkind to you when you wave him off, sliding the vase across your desk carefully. “No one other than me, I guess. I dunno when I’d ever have a chance to go visit between the work I do for the GAR, plus being in the middle of the Clone Wars for stars’ sake…” You’re considering if it would be worth telling him about your developing case of wanderlust, your craving for a taste of adventure. (Just a taste… just a taste!)

What Tech was supposed to do with that revelation, you weren’t sure. Did you want his help planning this whimsical trip? Or did you just need to confide in him with this harmless little secret?

“Would it be impolite to presume you don’t have many vacation days accrued in order to enjoy a short holiday?” Tech assumes you’re well aware of labor laws the GAR has to comply with for civilian staffing, like yourself, but he has no means of knowing how much PTO you have stored up without rooting into the system.

“Karabast, I- I hadn’t even thought of…” Your thoughts trail off as you look out one of the rain-spattered panes of transparisteel and determine you need to stop by your locker to gather your weather wear and rain repeller. When was the last time you had some extended leave from work that wasn’t a sick day, anyways? “I have some PTO I’m owed, but I try to be smart and save it for emergencies… I, uh, think I have more than two week’s worth.” Truthfully it’s been some time you looked at the amount of PTO you’ve accrued. It very well could be less than you remember, or more than you imagine.

Tech makes a quiet murmur of agreement that saving the time off for emergencies is rather smart, shrugging after a stretch of clearly contemplative silence. “I was merely curious.” The statement makes it tempting to tease him in return, say something like aren’t you always? but he has something more to say before you work up the nerve, gesturing to the clipboard. “May I watch the helmet footage for you while you take the Nabooian Honeysuckles home?”

“I was warned it was grisly.” you caution him out of kindness, thinking back to one of the locker notes. “So, as long as you don’t mind or won’t be bothered, I suppose you can look at the footage for me… Credits are on it being sent from Delta Squad.”

Scrutinizing the datadisc, Tech finds RC-1207 etched into it. Commando Sev, he tells you, went missing on Kashyyyk for a month early in the war… (Thank the Maker, his pod brothers had been fortunate in finding him.) Sev has never spoken of the experience.

“This should prove to be fascinating, in some regard.” Tech speculates, slotting the disc into an external inspection device to set everything up to complete this in your absence. Goggles are adjusted every so slightly, changing the way they are seated on his face. “I’ll leave the notes for you on your desk by the time you return.” he promises.

You make sure you’ve gathered the last of your things, saying that you better get going now that everything’s agreed upon. Carefully cradling the vase in the crook of your arm, you arrange the bouquet slightly with your free hand to avoid bruising any of the velveteen petals as you carry it.

Turning on your heel, you head for your locker to collect your rain repeller. “Appreciate it, Tech, thank you. I’ll catch you later.”

“Watch out for the deeper puddles, don’t slip.” Tech calls after you.

He’s overheard many of your colleagues using this phrase the last couple of days to warn one another; the longer the rain’s gone on, the deeper the areas of rain retention have become since the water table is oversaturated. There has been no break in the weather, but the end is in sight.

‘When will the rain stop?’ Soon. Maybe even tomorrow.

Habitually, you call back that you’ll be careful and another farewell, flashing him a sunny smile as you head out the door for the speeder cabs, the honeysuckles in one hand, repeller in the other. You don’t expect to be gone long.

Taking the vase full of honeysuckle home is your highest priority, right along with making sure the flimsiplast scraps in your pocket remain dry. Flimsi, while conveniently reusable, was hair-thin, had a slight transparency to it, and dissolved in water. (Why some disposable gowns for med centers were made out of the acrylic material when it was kriffing semi-transparent you had yet to figure out.) If you were careful of the shifting winds before you got to a speeder cab, Tech’s poems would stay safe and dry in your pockets, joining the others in a box of precious keepsakes at home.

Maybe you could put them all in a scrapbook one day, able to read and admire them all at leisure, or whenever you miss having new haikus show up in your locker once Tech’s broken leg is fully healed and he rejoins his brothers. Tech’s been careful not to voice how much he’s come to miss his brothers - else he risks sounding ungrateful for the research center agreeing to let him assist there after much back and forth - but you know he’s getting somewhat impatient.

“If I had known a second BX droid was around the boulder, I wouldn’t have tried to kick the first over the precipice…”

“That’s how you broke your leg?”

“Had it broken for me when the commando droid grabbed me, more accurately. Better me than Echo…”

He’d return to his brothers in time with the whole of hyperspace at his fingertips. Hunter would get his second-in-command back. The Havoc Marauder will have both of her pilots and it won’t be Echo spending time alone in the cockpit. Wrecker and Crosshair will once again have their brother to parse through factitious scenarios and the complicated mathematics necessary to pull it off relating to their enhancements to help one another in staving off hyperspace hypnosis.

And you’d go back to dreading Primedays and dreaming of clover covered plains on Naboo between every string of data you analyze for the GAR once Tech left. You’d miss the extra pair of capable hands and his talented, dare you say exceptional, mind. You’d miss the presence of yellow-lensed goggles and the steady, red light of the cylindrical camera attached to them that sometimes followed you around the analyst lab, that were as much a part of Tech’s face as the rest of his features.

You’d miss him and the harmless little crush Jais teases you over since helping you find out who your secret admirer was.

“Swing by your locker lately?”

“You have better eyesight than a Mynock but all the subtlety of a Reek, Jais. Yes I saw he left me another haiku.”

“What do they say?”

So much by using so little.

Tech has just seventeen syllables to work with, but boy does he make them work.

They will last far longer than any tender blossom, tucked carefully on the windowsill and lovingly arranged to fill in the gaps in the bouquet during transport. Home only for a short time, you settle for tucking the new haikus and other notes on the low table in the living room to sort through later tonight while eating dinner.

Come to think of it, maybe you should invite Tech over for dinner sometime, while he’s still here. (While there’s still time to leave things behind in order to remember him by.) He’s been staying in temporary accommodations in the unofficial research district since the nearest GAR barracks are an hour away, and the district isn’t too far from your place. You’re not sure what the protocol on this is (or if there’s any), and he’s more than welcome to turn you down, but-

This harmless crush has gone beyond only going one way.

You’re going to miss Tech when he leaves, not just because it means you'll lose an eager assistant who shares what he learns while you work. You've grown to like him in ways you haven't devoted proper time to exploring why with the nature of your work, but you like Tech too. And you don’t want just a vase full of honeysuckle that will one day wither and a smattering of haikus to remember him by.

You want something more. Something meaningful before he goes back to making mayhem for the Separatists.

And maybe it can start today, if you're clever enough.

It's time to stop daydreaming.

When you return to the research center, you first put your rain repeller away in your locker and collect the few notes that appeared while you were out. No new poems, only warnings that one of the senior analysts had a bug up their ass the size of a mynock (scratch that, a bantha) again over something minor, and it's best to stay out of their way until they cooled off.

“Hey, Tech, I'm back.” You announce your return from the lockers to avoid potentially startling him, finding him fiddling with a part of his vambrace. “Got some cryptic notes in my locker. Feel like I missed some excitement while I was away.”

“Yes… You certainly did.” One of the analysts lost their temper with the ‘newfangled’ caf-pot in the break room, Tech explains. Nothing newfangled about it in truth, it just wasn't working because it had been unplugged for cleaning and someone just forgot to leave a note.

“Speaking of notes,” he says as an aside, procuring a printed message from Lieutenant Waxer of Ghost Company in the 212th, “This came in just before you arrived while I was at the copier.”

Giving the lieutenant’s request a once-over, you find a general greeting after the Grand Army of the Republic’s letterhead, asking if someone would mind helping him locate the origin of a particular word in the language of the Twi’leks. Printed requests are deemed non-urgent, but it’s simple enough that you don’t mind adding his query to the bottom of your daily checklist, on which you find only the helmet footage crossed off.

“Thought you’d have gotten more done than this.” you say, chuckling as you take a seat at your desk.

Tech adjusts his goggles and meets your eye. “Felt it would be impolite to take your work from you when we had an agreement for just the footage.” He returns to fiddling around with his vambrace and his datapad, perhaps trying to sync something up.

His concern of taking further work from you without asking is very kind, and rather touching. You feel warmth in your face disproportionate to the heating system warming the labs on this rainy day. “Oh. Well, I wouldn’t have minded too much, but thank you. What’d you do instead until I got back?” You figure it didn’t take all too long to study the commando’s footage, finding the notes Tech’s took for you pinned underneath the datadisc the feed was stored on. Lifting the high-tech paperweight, you give the notes a glance.

It’s the same thin lettering as the haikus.

Tech tuts in thought while snapping a part of his vambrace back where it belongs. “General research. Nothing important.” He does not immediately elaborate on what he had researched, thinking you may want to take a moment to mentally prep yourself for returning to work and start on the next task at hand.

They were not concerns he (often) had to keep in mind with Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair because he knew them so well compared to other people, compared to you. They spent the most time together and could give him a playful ribbing for overstepping boundaries, or starting detailed explanations when it wasn’t the best time. No one cares! was often said in-the-moment, and apologized for in ways that did not involve the words I’m sorry - and that was normal with his brothers.

So when you break into a big, friendly smile and draw out the word “Liiiike…?” while you continue to settle in, Tech knows it’s okay to elaborate. That you seem interested in what he has to say.

“It was the origin of halliksets. I became distracted when I learned they were quite popular on Naboo, and spent some time looking into that instead.” As he expected, you perk up with the mention of Naboo, interest piqued. “They’re made with seven strings, and the ore commonly used to make them comes from Kreeling, a mining planet also within the Chrommell sector.” The ore seems to be used to decorate the rounded body of the instrument, from what he had been reading. Ornamentation rather than function.

“Huh,” you say politely with a smile to match, “I had no idea. That’s really neat.”

You thank him for sharing before agreeing that perhaps you should get started on some of your work when he warns you that he can hear someone from another department coming, and it may be wise to appear busy.

For the next fifteen or so minutes, you and Tech are careful to appear focused on tasks from the clipboard. Something about figuring out why a standard caustic compound utilized by the GAR didn’t work. Tech casts a subtle glance over his shoulder while you muse over the specs, wondering just like you why someone from another department is taking their sweet time to leaf through all the disposable pipettes in the storage cabinet of all things. Trying to eavesdrop? Just really particular about their lab supplies? Who karking knows.

While looking into the humidity record on Felucia the day of the recorded equipment failure, you take a moment to open the system you submit your time-off requests to and look at the amount of paid time off accrued. Two and a half weeks. That’s not bad.

“Good to know….”

“What is it?” Tech asks.

“Oh, just poking into weather records,” you hum, hiding the portal, “Seems the caustic compound failed because of higher than average humidity that day. It was under six months old, so I don’t think it was a product age failure.” From the flashpoint of the Clone Wars on Geonosis, much of the equipment utilized barely sits on a shelf any longer than six standard months after its production and purchase for the Grand Army.

Clones were clever. Well trained. They knew how to account for things like planetary climate, weather conditions and equipment age out in the field, but you’ll always have the occasional fluke. Things beyond your control, beyond what you trained for. (Some things you could never train for.) But the Grand Army of the Republic could be trusted to give it their all, no matter the occasion, no matter the challenge.

You trusted men like Red Wire with your life here in the labs when you had to work with disarmed bombs, never doubting his ordnance training for a second. The same goes for the man sitting on the other side of your desk from you now, the injured leg in the walking boot propped up in a spare chair. You trust Tech too.

When the personnel from another department finally leaves, they’re grumbling something venomously about the missing label-maker under their breath, the word “di’kut!” loudest of all.

You recognize the Mando’a. Pronunciation DEE-koot. Multiple meanings. Idiot. Useless. Waste of space. (More accurately a waste of their time… Pretty sure someone already said the label-maker wasn’t in there.) You wonder where they know the word from.

Speaking for yourself, you’ve picked up a smidgen of the language from working as a researcher and analyst, and you’ve added a few more words to your repertoire from Tech’s uninterrupted correspondence with the Bad Batch that he’s allowed you to see some of.

And speaking of them… Now that you and Tech are alone, this might be a good time to try putting your plan in motion knowing how much PTO you have to work with now. You want to go to Naboo, and you want to see if there’s any way you can convince Tech to go with you. Maybe even meet you there with the rest of Clone Force 99. Make bumping into them look like a coincidence.

“Hey Tech, when you return to your brothers, any plans or ideas on where you’ll go first?”

A pad of sticky flimsi-notes is pulled from one of the many drawers of your desk, and you root around for a working pen while you wait on an answer. Calling upon courage from the very heart of the cosmos, you hope you can pull this off.

Tech answers the break in relative silence with a quirk of his eyebrow. “None that I’m aware of, but I suspect we’ll be going wherever we are needed.” There is a long contemplative pause, eyes flicking to his trusty tablet more than once as a few new messages from Wrecker come in.

“Is there some reason you’re asking?” He pushes the datapad aside now, giving you more of his attention, which is appreciated.

Shoulders bounce. “What if I said I was just curious?” You don’t expect him to buy that, he’s too clever. But you need a moment of quiet contemplation on his part to count out the syllables without messing up. Once you’re certain you have five, then seven syllables, you flash him an easygoing smile. “Being curious isn’t a crime, is it?”

“On some planets it is. Some rather… ridgid, often self-isolated cultures across the galaxy view curiosity as a sign of an idle mind and fear it will inspire mischief. Free thinking. Rebellion.”

The question had been rhetorical, and you don’t mind that he answered, but you find the fact quite sad. You also don’t want to begin to imagine how that sort of “crime” is punished. Curiosity is a natural part of life to all, to criminalize it is… frankly ridiculous.

“Well good thing we’re not in one of those isolated cultures.” you say, now thinking how you’ll finish penning this poem. Should you add your reasoning for why you wrote this at the bottom? (Would you even have room?) Maybe you should just tell him after he’s read your poem instead.

“Agreed.” Another message comes in from Echo this time, but Tech ignores it, continuing to hold eye contact with you; almost like he’s performing an inspection. “So I hope it does not feel like an accusation when I say I don’t believe you are ‘just curious’.”

“I did have an idea…” you admit, fiddling with the pen in your hand for the moment, “Since I heard Clone Force 99 isn’t keen on following every little order…” This is when you choose to slide the haiku you were working on over to “his” side of the desk, waiting in nervous silence as brown eyes scrutinize every Aurebesh letter laid bare before them.

Can't we ever go to a nice place, verdant fields of spring eternal? - Feel like breaking a few rules?

Tech’s eyes lift from the flimsiplast note, looking surprised. He didn’t take you for the sort of person who’d encourage breaking certain GAR protocols, let alone… Your name falls from his lips, asking what this is about in the same tender tone.

“I thought about what you asked regarding how much time off I have, and I found out I have two and a half weeks…” You explain, fiddling with the pen some more to occupy your nervous hands while he continues to monitor you. “I thought… Maybe once your leg heals up, and you’re cleared to return to active duty, you could find an excuse to spend some time on Naboo. Get to know each other better, perhaps?” He clearly has some kind of feelings for you that are in the earlier stages of reciprocation, and if you’re away from the lab, and he finds the time or the excuse to nip down to the Chrommell sector and meet up with you on Naboo, then neither one of you have to worry about behaving quite so professionally.

Looking down at the haiku once again, Tech takes in your explanation, your invitation, and offers a mild chuckle at long last.

“You know what my brothers will say if I tell them about this?”

You swallow nervously. “W-what?”

“That it almost sounds like you’re asking me on a date.”

You do what you can to keep your jaw from dropping, but there’s little to be done about the fiery feeling building in the apple of your cheeks that suggests there may be color blooming there. If you’re blushing, Tech certainly does a splendid job of politely pretending he sees no such thing while he gives your poem another look.

You do the same in kind when additional color builds in his own face and crawls up his neck from under the top of the body suit. “I take it you figured out who was secretly leaving you the haikus.” His smile is timid, but not quite as nervous as your own.

“I did. A while ago, actually.” you confess, confirming his suspicions. “I had help checking the cameras to see where the first one came from. I didn’t see a reason to say anything, or stop you.” You add that you’ve kept every single one, too, to some surprise of the computer and weapons specialist sitting across from you.

He sits forward now, carefully easing the walking boot to the floor. “You really want to spend time with me on Naboo?” Your earnest nod surprises him further. You do. Out of millions of Clones in the galaxy, you’re asking Tech (and his brothers by proxy) to join you in visiting the idyllic planet.

You carefully carve out a little portion of your PTO and submit the request as the very first step in the planning process, and while you await approval you and Tech will continue to work together as normal. You still have to behave professionally in the meantime.

Well, as professionally as possible when Tech decides he can now confess he has a backlog of haikus for you, enough so you could have one waiting for you in your locker every day until he’s cleared to return to fieldwork in a few weeks, in theory.

“Poetry every Primeday, honeysuckles today, and now you’re offering daily haikus? Maybe I will be asking you out on a date if you continue to spoil me like that.” you warn him, chuckling. Of course now you get the feeling Tech will make sure the weeks leading up to your time-off would consist of honeysuckle and haiku to ensure that you would.

And those were going to become some of your best weeks working as a researcher and analyst for the GAR, whether you got that time off or not, because it would be spent making precious memories with Tech.

That was what mattered most.

First time I've ever participated in one of these events, and I don't think I did too badly, considering I completely restarted this at one point! (Apologies for how long this ended up being, too, haha.) I hope you liked it, Tech-a! 🩷

Fic taglist: @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636 @dukeoftheblackstar @dystopicjumpsuit

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