#i know its four sentences hUSH YOU SAW NOTHING

[jaskwritesthings]

Oooooo shadowidomauk pirates, perhaps? 👀👀👀

Kingsley looked over the hold of ill-gotten gains with a pleased eye, "What precious treasures I get to plunder."

Caleb snorted on a charmed laugh he desperately tried to cover as Essek glared down the Plank King, "I don't appreciate the amount of platinum we waste on ever increasingly twitchy crews because you insist on taking our ships captive to play out these fantasies of yours, King, we have work to be getting on with, and we can visit you via teleport whenever we feel like it, this," he waved a sharp hand around the hold of their ship and the very confused and slightly terrified faces of their most recently purchased crew, "is unnecessary and annoying."

"You'd never take a break from your academic studies if I didn't mount a sea-faring intervention once in a while," King gleefully pointed out as he came close enough to plant a chaste greeting kiss on Essek's cheek, he noted that the drow lowered himself enough to receive it, so he wasn't too upset with the interruption. Caleb welcomed him with open arms and a warm kiss as Essek sighed and went to reassure yet another seasoned crew that, no, they weren't about to walk the plank it was, in fact, just the feared Plank King's favoured courting practice, so sorry for the inconvenience.

three sentence au

[ravensofdarkwind]

Chapter 6: The Trial

“I call to order, the trial of,” Lord Gracious glanced at the scroll his advisor held to his side. “Rogue Four?” He finished, unimpressed by the edginess of the group's name. Muttering arose from the three who had protested the name, as well as amongst the crowd that watched with eager anticipation. Lord Gracious clapped his hands, a loud boom echoing through the cavern. The crowd hushed, in awe of their great leader.

“Now then,” Lord Gracious continued. “in a recount of the day’s events, you are here because you murdered two guards in the town of Moonshine. This is a serious crime.” He glared at the four accused, each of whom held a separate expression.

Hesmira looked calm, not the slightest bit worried by being surrounded by the guards; She knew in a pinch she could get out of there. Er looked defiant. He was guilty of the crime, but he was justified, and that was enough reasoning in his mind to keep himself at peace. Morbek looked nervous, not knowing how the crowd would react to a goblin like him.

Birdie looked like he was about to pass out. Birdie, who had encountered only one other stressful moment in his life, had now lived through multiple in the last day alone. He was shaken, to say the least. In a move of great bravery, Birdie stepped forward to speak.

“Lord Gracious,” He started, with a deep bow on one knee. “We are honored to be in your presence, and we all recognize the severity of the crime.” He looked up from the floor, hopeful his flattery would get him a head start.

“Cut the bullshit.” Lord Gracious barked. The crowd laughed, honored to be graced with both his wit and frankness. “You are here to plead your case, not to flatter me. Now, plead it.”

Birdie flushed. He was used to being jeered, but never by a crowd this large. He gulped, then continued.

“Lord Gracious, we are not guilty.” He finally stated.

“So, you were not the ones that killed the guards in Moonshine?” Lord Gracious raised an eyebrow.

“No. Well, I mean, yes, we killed them, but-“ A gasp rose from the crowd. Conversations broke out, some shouting “HANG THEM!”

Lord Gracious clapped his hands again.

“SILENCE!”

“But we are justified in doing so!” Birdie cried. He closed his eyes, waiting for the guards to take him away. But nothing happened.

He slowly opened his eyes, unsure of what was to come next. The crowd had settled quickly; their interests now piqued.

“What do you mean you were justified?” Lord Gracious challenged, leaning forward in his throne.

Birdie contemplated his word choice. As much as Lord Gracious was his title, he was a dangerous man to cross. To get on his bad side would be an instant death sentence. He came up from his kneeling position.

“Lord Gracious, the guards had betrayed their people. “Tax Collectors” had laid claim to all the money these poor townspeople had. Instead of defending their citizens, the guards took their posts to stop anyone from intervening. They were in the wrong; we only acted in the interest of the people.”

Lord Gracious pondered a moment, stroking the wisps of his beard. “I was unaware of these “Tax Collectors” in Moonshine. However, I will need more evidence that you are not lying to me.” He turned his attention to the wizard that had made the purple mist appear. “Summon him.”

The wizard cast a new spell, its effects taking place in the adjacent alcove of the cavern. From this new gray mist appeared a familiar face; the barkeep that the four had met in Moonshine.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” The bartender asked worriedly, looking around his new surroundings in dismay.

“You are here to testify in front of this court about what you saw yesterday evening in the town of Moonshine. Please, explain to this court what transpired.” The audience watched the bartender compose himself before speaking.

“Well, I was going about my day when I saw this halfling and his friends enter my tavern. I served them some drinks and I heard the tax collectors call for everyone to come to the square and pay up. So, I collected my payment and went to take it to them. When I had almost handed it over, these heroes appeared, taking out the bandits that were going to steal all our money! It was incredible.” The crowd murmured in astonishment.

“Thank you, your view will be considered in this sentencing. You may go now. Lord Gracious decreed, waving his hand at the court wizard.

The bartender began to panic, arguing that he would rather travel back to Moonshine on foot, but the gray mist that had brought him to the courtroom overtook his voice, transporting him back to his tavern.

The four looked at each other. A small smile broke across Birdie’s face, hopeful.

“Your sentence will be reduced due to your heroic actions.”

Birdie’s face fell. “Only reduced?” Birdie questioned. “But, we did the right thing, and-“

“You still committed the crime, did you not? You even admitted to it during this trial.” Lord Gracious stated calmly; no personal emotion swaying his verdict.

Birdie paled. ‘Shit, I did say that.’ He thought. He was roughly pushed to the side by Hesmira, then to the other by Er. Morbek caught him before he could completely fall to the ground.

“But we did the right thing!” Hesmira shouted.

Lord Gracious held his hand up, turning to a separate advisor that had appeared in the margins. He snapped his fingers and the purple mist sunk to the floor, hushing his voice. He spoke urgently with the advisor, furrowing his brows in concentration. With another snap of his fingers, the wizard let the purple mist rise again, charming his voice with reverberation.

“I have just been informed that you completed another heroic act outside Giant Foot’s very walls. They tell me that you slew kobolds that intended to infiltrate our city. For that, you have my gratitude. “He nodded his head slightly to the group. “In fact, this gives me an idea for your sentence.” Lord Gracious leaned forward once more. “There is evil afoot. Not just in Moonshire, but all of Darkwind. I have no doubt adventurers such as yourselves have seen it on the rise over the last 7 years. There are rumors the dragon Zestyl is behind these evil incursions on our land. However, as the legend goes, the great wizard Varkaag defeated Zestyl. That raises the question: How has evil run rampant without it’s great authority to command it?”

Birdie was more familiar with the story than the acts of evil creatures recently. He heard the tale of the wizard Varkaag that had slain the dragon Zestyl with his party of adventurers, but that was as far as his knowledge went.

“So, I lay the task before you: find why this has been happening.” Lord Gracious looked at the group with sincerity. “If you can still find the great wizard Varkaag, I’m sure he will be most willing to help you stamp out what remains of Zestyl’s reign. If not, then you are tasked with defeating what is left of Zestyl’s army. Or,” He paused, the crowd on the edge of their seat to hear what punishment would befall the criminals if they refused. “you are sentenced to a month’s worth of community service in Giant’s Foot.” The crowd groaned. Lord Gracious was known for his unusual punishments, but it didn’t appear anyone was to be killed today for their actions. The more blood thirsty congregants began to make their way out of the cavern, disappointed.

“I will allow you to deliberate your choice.” Lord Gracious snapped his fingers, and the wizard that had made the mist appear cast the spell again to let it sink closer to Birdie’s ankles. Testing if they were truly free to discuss, Morbek snapped his fingers a few times, confirming their words would not echo.

“We should take the community service.” Er said bluntly. The other three stared at him in disbelief.

“Are you insane?” Birdie hissed. “Didn’t you hear what he said? There is evil on the rise, and you’re not going to do anything to help?” Birdie turned to look at Hesmira and Morbek, trying to confirm if he was in the right. “We would be heroes if we accomplished this.” Birdie had the stars in his eyes, childlike and naïve.

“If, we accomplish this, there is a big if there, Birdie.” Er stooped down to Birdie’s level to make his point very clear. “How many life-threatening quests have you been on?”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right.” Hesmira agreed. Er and Birdie both turned to her, unsure of who she was referring to. “We’re no strangers to evil in this land. And the uptick in that has me worried. We should help out.”

Er huffed out in frustration, then looked to Morbek for his opinion. Morbek wrung his hands together.

“We would do more good for Darkwind if we took this quest, Er.” He paused, unsure if Er was going to turn on them. “My goal is to bring peace to the nations and people of Darkwind, so if this quest helps them, I say we do it.”

Er huffed again. He waved his arm to Lord Gracious, signifying that he was ready to say his piece. Lord Gracious motioned to the wizard, who made the mist rise once again to enunciate their voices.

“I have a question, Your Highness.” Er leveled. Birdie cringed at the changed title. “Why would you offer us the choice if you are pushing us to one or the other? I personally want to do the community service, but my companions here are convinced we should go on this quest that will most certainly get us killed. So, convince me; why should we risk our lives for a hopeless cause?” The other three stared in horror at Er’s abrasiveness. Birdie wanted to charm him into apologizing. Hesmira looked like she was considering knocking him out. Morbek started looking around for the nearest exit.

Lord Gracious let out a deep chuckle. “I like your spirit, boy. Do not try that with me again or you will find yourself with a sentence much worse than the one I have presented before you.” Lord Gracious paused to let his threat seep in. “You say you need to be convinced? I don’t believe that. You have already shown you want to do the right thing for others. You defended innocent people when they were being taken advantage of. You rushed in to defeat evil at the entrance of this town. Not to mention, these companions have stayed by your side in spite of not committing the crime themselves.” Er cocked his head in confusion. “Yes, I see the blood on your staff. It matched the blunt injuries that those guards had, but not all the tax collectors were wounded with. Do not mistake me for a fool. These heroes could have turned you in by yourself to face my wrath but chose to stand by your side instead. They have already shown a deep loyalty to this motley crew that has been created. So, I believe I do not need to convince you of anything. You need only accept it for yourself that you are willing to do what is right for Darkwind.”

Thoroughly read, Er stepped back to contemplate Lord Gracious’ words. Morbek stepped forward to fill the orator space.

“Lord Gracious. We are ready to discuss the conditions of this quest to defeat Zestyl.”

“Very well, if you are all in agreement now.” Lord Gracious settled back into his throne. “You will be provided with the carriage driver that brought you here to Giant’s Foot. You will also be provided with rations for the journey to the port town of Cantertois. I trust you all to defend each other on this quest, and to stay together. Should any of you break off from this quest, there will be consequences.”

Morbek spoke in Gnomish, a language Birdie had heard but never had caught onto himself. It elicited another chuckle from Lord Gracious.

“You surprise me, goblin. Very well, I will send an official scroll with you four. Show it to anyone who questions your mission or presence.” A new advisor appeared, a large scroll in hand, already mostly written. “As a note, I recommend you choose a new name for your party. What shall Darkwind know you four as?”

Birdie began to open his mouth, before Hesmira clamped her hand down across it. “You don’t get to decide names, your ideas suck.” Hesmira commanded. Birdie muffled out a defeated sigh, then pulled her hand down to speak anyway.

“I was going to say, may we have a moment to discuss, Lord Gracious?” Birdie asked meekly.

“You may have two minutes. Choose wisely.”

The purple mist descended once more. A fierce deliberation broke out amongst the group. Birdie excitedly shouted something. A pause of silence followed. Hesmira waved her arm to Lord Gracious, showing the group was ready to officially dub themselves.

“What is the name of your party?” Lord Gracious readied his quill to the parchment.

“We are,” Hesmira announced. “The Ravens.”

“The Ravens you will be.” Lord Gracious’ hand scrawled across the parchment in elegant strokes. “You have the rest of the day to prepare for your departure. Go forth, and bring peace to Darkwind.”

The guards relaxed slightly, leading The Ravens out of the cavern, into the upper level of Giant’s Foot.

This, is where our story truly begins.

[silverdelirium]

hi! can you do one where draco and the reader are married (don’t make them old please make them like the married rich pretty milf and dilf couple), and they have a daughter. anyway, draco is out because of work/something else (it’s up to u) and the reader is with their daughter and they get into a small fight and the daughter says something really bad/hurtful to the reader (her mother) and the reader like gets sad (make it bad so it can be dramatic😏) and when draco gets home he finds the reader like crying (smoking too bc a milf smoking is hot but if you don’t want to add it it’s fine) and yeah basically the rest is up to you :)) ily hope ur well and fine. <3

CIGARETTES & INSECURITIES | D.M

thank you hoe @selenesheart for helping me with the title ily

warnings: anxiety, lowkey panic attack, insecurities of being a bad mother, mean child, smoking, angst w a happy ending

———

draco’s hurried steps were heard echoing across the hallway as he rapidly made his way downstairs, cussing his boss out under his breath for calling him on a fucking Sunday. the same sunday he was about to spend basking in the love of his wife and child, all expectations now turned to mush.

“i’m sorry i have to go, my love. call me if you need anything, okay?” spoke draco, tone soft as he held your face in his hands, giving you one last sad smile before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips.

you gave him a feeble nod in response with a reassuring smile, watching him storm off in long strides, still swearing in hushed whispers and with a flick of his wand, he was gone.

you instantly took notice of how intense the atmosphere got around the manor- almost scary. deadly quiet with your four-year-old toddler still asleep and big curtains blocking any sunlight from coming in.

it almost caused goosebumps to rise on your arms as if the universe was already warning you of the day you were gonna have to deal with today.

maybe the first bad thing to happen today was being woken up by draco’s phone going off like crazy with calls of his boss and endless text messages of his colleagues.

it didn’t matter though, you had other things to worry about. your toddler was already walking down the stairs with a sleepy stare as she made her way to you, immediately taking notice of how there was no trace of draco, and looking around for any signs of her father.

“hi there” you greeted, giving her a sympathetic smile when she asked for draco, her small body already wrapped around your torso. a small sigh with a brief explanation of a work emergency was given to her. her sour mood amplifying a tenfold for every word that left your mouth.

she stayed quiet for a moment, and just as you started beaming at the thought of calming a daddy’s girl- she sobbed heavily in your ear, clinging hard to you but still screaming for draco.

a grimace found its way to your face along with a sorrowful expression as you shushed her down, tracing your fingers down her spine; a small trick you always did to relax her in days like this.

her sobs quieted down but she still cried silently in your shoulder, hot tears rolling down her face that had you questioning whether you should call your husband or not, the thought accompanying the insecurity of being a terrible mother who can barely keep her child tranquil.

after a few minutes of letting her pour all her emotions out, you made a path to the kitchen and sat her down on the barstool, wiping her tears away as she huffed in what seemed to be an angry expression.

“would you like some breakfast, baby?” you spoke, tone soft and slow as to not aggravate the situation.

“i want daddy”

“he’s- he’s not here right now” you tried to reason, watching as she took a deep breath but said nothing.

you turned around to head for the stove. but your ears caught a small murmur of “you’re the worst” coming from none other than your daughter.

a thunder-struck look adorned your face, blinking back the tears that found their way to your waterline.

ever since you found out you were pregnant, the anxiousness of being a not good enough mom had filled you in seconds, thinking of the worst scenarios possible throughout the pregnancy. draco was always there to ease your nerves a bit, yet, never quite pushing them away completely.

and jesus- did that simple three-word sentence stung painfully at your heart.

you stayed frozen in place for a few moments before taking a deep breath and quickly collecting yourself, continuing your errands around the kitchen as you made an effort to ignore the way your hands became clammy and heartstrings were pulled harshly in your chest.

the rest of the day went painfully slow, your daughter completely ignoring you and just curling up on the couch or playing in her room, always slamming the door in your face whenever you attempted to talk to her. your back also aching from having to do all house chores by yourself. every once in a while getting a text message from draco, rushed typos of “i love you” and “i’m gonna be there soon”.

——

the clock read 6:07 P.M and you held the cigarette to your lips with shaky fingers, tears blurring your vision as all the frustration from today came crashing down at once.

sobs rocked through your body as you inhaled the smoke and blew it out past your nostrils. warm, thick tears not coming to a halt even once.

your cries muffled every sound around you. not taking notice of draco who was now frantically searching for you, already finding your daughter safe and asleep on the couch. yet you were nowhere to be found.

it took one look at the cigarette package on the dining table for draco to locate you. he knew about your anxiety and how bad it got when triggered.

his heart ached and fists clenched at his side as he turned to his baby girl, snuggling her deeper into the thick fluffy blanket before making his way to the porch where you sat with a hand to your sternum, big clouds of smoke fogging the air around you.

“oh, baby” he sympathized, not giving you time to react as he enveloped you in a big hug, feeling the way your curled your fists on his shirt and sobbed quietly, taking ragged breaths every once in a while.

after a few minutes of taking shallow breaths, you pulled your head back from his chest, just enough to stare at his face, his bright grey eyes running down every feature you had, almost like he was studying it.

“what happened today?” he whispered, closing his eyes and connecting his forehead with yours.

you released a breath through your nose and lit off the cigarette on the small table next to you before explaining every small detail from today to draco, a few tears escaping at some points.

once you were done, draco removed his head from yours, pulling back and displaying both of his palms on your cheeks, observing your tear-stained face made him ache with sorrow.

“my love” he started “you are the world’s greatest mother to ever exist, a bad day with your child does not define your abilities as a mom. she loves you, we all do. you don’t know how fuzzy she gets when you’re not here.”

his words made a small smile crack through your lips, buzzing nerves slowly weighing down after every syllable he spoke.

“we would all be doomed if it wasn’t for you. every parent has a bad day, do not beat yourself up for it, it happens to the best of us.” he finalized, chest swelling with pride once he saw how you were full-on beaming, puckering your lips like a silent sign for a kiss which he gladly provided.

“i love you” you mumbled against his mouth.

“i love you more” he responded.

———

🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @metaraxia @dracoslittlesluttyprincess @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety @dracoscum @riddleswh0rekrux @laceycallisto @slytherinbabess @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @yagamigf

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[valdemart]

Valdebreed Part 2

Us: *votes for courtier content*

Nyx Hydra: Yeah we’re not gonna actually do that lol

I tried to keep Valdemar as in character as possible but honestly? Fuck cannon. If Nyx Hydra isn’t going to feed us, I am! Come get y’all lunch!

NSFW ValdemarxReader Consentacles, way too much cum, dirty talking Valdemar, breeding kink, ruined furniture, pet names, after care probably a rushed intro but fuck it.

After pulling yourself together and freshening up in a very well-earned bath, you made your way back to your room where Valdemar waited.

The fire place had been lit. It was also the only light in the room. If it hadn’t been your own room, you might have bumped into something as you made your way over to where you could see Valdemar.

When you first moved in, there had been a chair in the library that you had fallen in love with. It was an oversized arm chair, big enough to curl up in, made of burgundy velvet. You sank into it like a spoiled house cat and read for hours at a time. Valdemar had found you napping in it at some point and shortly after you had found it had been moved to your room. That’s where they sat now. Naked.

 Valdemar never disrobed. Ever. Honestly, you had wondered a few times if their clothing wasn’t part of their actual body. This wasn’t their ‘real’ form, after all. You wouldn’t have been totally shocked to learn that their coat was just their true form’s arm or something, molded to look like clothing. Apparently, you were wrong. All of their skin was the same olive hue as their face and hands, the only other skin of theirs you had really seen before. They were a rectangular shape, their waist only dipping in slightly beneath their ribcage before fulling out to their hips. Their ribs were almost all entirely visible, the shadows cast by the firelight highlighting each groove and protuberance. And sitting on those ribs were the tiniest handfuls of breast tissue, with such perfectly symmetrical shape and nipples that they very obviously weren’t ‘human’. You’d only ever known breasts to be perfect mirror images of each other on statues. You could follow their legs up to their lap, but then all you could make out was shadow.

They were breathtakingly and horrifyingly beautiful.

“I think I’m…overdressed,” you said, your voice so thick with anticipation that you had to pause to swallow before you could finish your sentence.

“For now. I thought this particular situation called for some vulnerability on my part. Disrobe, Little Mouse.”

You slid off your robe and let it pool at your feet, leaving you as bare as they were.

“Come to me.”

You were before them in an instant, desperate to be near them. On them. Filled with them.

“Sit.”

You straddled their lap slowly, knowing the extent of their strength, but still slightly put off by the sight of their ribs. Parts of your brain seemed to have mistaken them for human.

You shivered as your chest pressed against theirs and your nipples hardened against their cool skin. You noticed quietly that theirs were still unerect and soft against you. Their hands wrapped around you gently, their fingers somehow sliding perfectly into the spaces between your ribs where they connected to your spine. If they squeezed, they could probably collapse your whole chest cavity. You had seen them crush a femur in their fist like it had been made out of sugar.

“We’re you ready to begin the experiment, Mouseling?”

“Kiss me first?”

Their lips were cold and thin and they felt so good against your heated skin.

There was loud crackling noise, too loud to have been from the fireplace, followed by a grotesque, wet sound. It sounded like someone was butchering a chicken right in front of you and you would have fallen back to the floor in surprise if Valdemar hadn’t been holding you.

You only saw it for a second but, in the firelight, you saw a cleft on Valdemar’s sternum that started to split open further like the skin was being retracted. You yelped and Valdemar reached out to grab your chin and hold your head upright.

“Look at me, Mouseling. Look only at me.”

They released your chin but your eyes never left theirs. You watched the flames behind you flicker in their red eyes as something unimaginably horrible was happening right below you. The sound traveled downward until it stopped where their genitals would be. Then it was quiet again. You could feel the dark energy emanating from just a few inches below you, but your eyes never left Valdemar’s and you weren’t sure if it was from fear or servility.

“Such an obedient little thing,” Valdemar praised as they brushed your hair off your face. You were sweating despite the chill of their skin and your head was swimming. Their magic tended to do that to you. Asra’s magic and your own magic never made you sick, but Valdemar’s always did. You weren’t sure if it was because it came from a different source or because it was too strong for you. Asra said it was a much older, much darker magic, and that even he wasn’t completely sure he understood it. That had upset you at first, and you tried to argue with him that Valdemar wasn’t evil and you were sick of everyone’s constant comments about it, but he merely placed a finger to your lips to silence you and said ‘I said dark energy, not evil energy’. To Asra’s credit, he handled your relationship with the doctor better than most people had.

But what would he think about a baby?

“Allow me to show you just how satisfying that which you fear is.”

Several appendages the width of a finger started to caress your body, making you jerk away against them, but Valdemar held you steady and your eyes never left theirs. They stared at you, unblinking and smiling softly, as their little tendrils fondled your stomach and legs. They were wet and soft like small tongues, and they left trails of moisture wherever they lapped. While they were a little unnerving, the sensation was like nothing you had felt before. Especially when they found your breasts. They flicked against your nipples flatly before wrapping around them to tug lightly. Your clit pulsed desperately with each little caress and your wet hole clenched around nothing, leaving you feeling desperately empty.

You groaned softly and bucked forward, trying to guide even one of those tendrils to where you now needed it most.

“Impatient?” Valdemar asked, knowing damned well the answer to their own question. “We have the rest of eternity.”  

Still, the tendrils descended then. Some softly pulled your lips apart, exposing you, while others tasted you. Two alternated flicks against your clitoris while three or maybe four slid into you at varying depths.

You keened and bucked into Valdemar’s lap, but you knew nothing you could do would change anything they had planned for you.

“Let’s get you nice and prepared to take my seed.”

It didn’t take long for the appendages to lubricate you, perhaps excessively so. Your body was wet now, and it caused you to shiver against the air.

The tendrils working your body withdrew, and you whined pitifully.

“Hush, Pet,” Valdemar said softly, though clearly unannoyed.

There was a singular tendril then, thicker than any of the last ones. A blunt head prodded you gently for a moment before sliding fully inside. Its girth stretched you, but whatever Valdemar had covered you in took away all resistance.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and, for a moment, you were worried they wouldn’t come back. This was so much more than anything Valdemar had ever given you. You doubted Valdemar had an established phallus, especially since they shapeshifted every other part of their physical form. This huge thing inside of you was made specifically because they wanted you helplessly full, pinned from the inside.

“I c-cant…Val…”

You weren’t asking for them to stop. No, this was delicious. You need this. But it was so, so much.

“You can. And you will.”

The phallus withdrew slowly to the tip before sliding back in just as slowly, all while Valdemar didn’t move a muscle. It was so typical of the demon, to wreck you without any indication of physical response on their end. They were going to fuck you and anyone watching would think they had nothing to do with it.

Valdmar’s…cock? For lack of a better comparison in your mind fucked you in the uniform way Valdemar did anything. While it lacked human variation, it was unrelenting in its endeavor to impregnant you.

“I can feel your little cunt milking me. Your body’s as desperate to get pregnant as you are.”

Your head dropped with a heavy moan and Valdemar shifted back, taking your full weight against them. If this dicking didn’t kill you, them talking like that certainly would. The heat inside of you was becoming unbearable. All you needed was a little bit more.

“Can you go faster?” You asked softly as you jerked your hips forward into their thrusting.

“Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t handle things as they were?”

You whined pitifully at their teasing.

“Please? Please? Please?”

With each beg you humped yourself harder. You could feel your climax mounting and all you wanted was to finish with Valdemar this deep inside of you. You weren’t above begging.

“Of course, Duckling. We need your orgasm to move my ejaculate to your womb.”

Their weird medical speak should have been embarrassing, but your walls fluttered around them.

One of their hands found the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist. When Valdemar pushed back into you, it was a sharp, hard thrust and you cried out before you fell forward. You moaned loudly into the fabric of the chair and Valdemar held you against it.

“I have you.”

The tentacle started to piston in and out of you, the speed of the penetration through both of your fluids making the most unholy of sounds, like someone drowning in mud. Your body jiggled and shuddered against Valdemar as they remained perfectly still while they kept you caged to them.

“Val! Val-d-de-mah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”

It was right there. You could feel yourself about to snap. Just a little more. Oh, please just a little more. Oh please oh please oh please oh please

A few of the small tendrils from earlier reappeared to lap at your clit and you screamed into the chair. As you contracted around the still thrusting phallus, you could feel it erupt. The fluid coming out of it wasn’t hot or cold, but there was a ridiculous amount of it. It squirted inside of you before you felt it leak out around the two of you, quickly causing a puddle to form in Valdemar’s lap. Despite this, they were still moving in and out of you, fucking their cum back inside of you as it came out.

Too spent to try and wiggle away from the overstimulation, you whimpered for mercy.

“ ‘S too much. Val…”.

“I’m only trying to make sure you’re completely inseminated. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Despite their teasing, their tendril retracted out of you. You shuddered, both thankful for the break and grieving the loss of fullness.  

“Val…That was crazy…”

“Science often is.”

It wasn’t hard for Valdemar to maneuver you onto your back in their lap, despite you being completely dead weight. Hooking one arm under your knees, they elevated your lower body and cradled you.

“You’re being too wasteful with my sperm, Little One. You need to be more grateful.”

Finally able to look at yourself, you saw that you were bathed almost completely in black. It started around your breasts where the tendrils had played with you and you grew darker the further down yourself you looked. Of course, Valdemar came black. You doubted anything viable in terms of offspring would actually come of this, but the closeness, the intimacy, that was what you had really needed. The brain melting orgasm hadn’t hurt either.

“I love you.”

Valdemar hummed in acknowledgement before softly running a finger down your stomach, through the gummy pitch they had covered you in, before tracing small circles around your womb.

Every time the fire flickered, the lighting on their face changed, making them look like they were morphing briefly. You couldn’t help but smile.

“We’re going to have such cute kids.”

[bucksfucks]

         amorosa // steve rogers

        chapter five: paris, france

 chapter one // chapter two // chapter three    

                    chapter four // chapter five

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

                            series masterlist

summary || steve takes you to paris to accompany him to a business gala where you meet an old friend and partner, discovering some secrets about your steven.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader

word count || 2,023 words

warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, daddy kink, undefined age gap, minor panic attack, angst — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

     When Steve said that the private jet was learning first thing in the morning, he meant it. It was three in the morning, the sun not even close to being up as you rode through the empty and dimly lit New York streets with Steve's hand on your thigh.

    He decided to drive, sometimes you thought he was superhuman, running off of only a few hours of sleep, yet wide awake and alert.

    You envied him as your head lolled to the side as drowsiness washed over you. You yawned, big and loud as Steve chuckled.

    "You can sleep on the plane, Princess. I know early mornings aren't your thing." He teased as you shot him a tired look, but smiled as you placed your hand over his.

    When you opened your eyes next the car had stopped in the middle of the runway, a sleek private jet in front of you as your eyes went wide with excitement. You'd never gotten anywhere close to a private jet, the closest thing being bumped up to business class on accident.

    "Is this it?" You asked, sitting up as Steve opened his door, "sure is, buttercup." He winks, coming around to open your door and help you up. The air was cold, the smell of frost faint in the air as Steve wraps his arm around you.

    "I've never been on a private jet," you mumble, more so to yourself as Steve laughs in response. He takes your hand, leading you up the stairs of the jet until you're entering the lavish cabin.

    "Then by all means, Princess, let me be the first to introduce you to them." He purrs from behind you, arms snaking around your waist as you take in the clean leather and polished surfaces.

    "Steve this is…" you're at a loss for words, mouth agape as you spin around to plant your lips on his. You're standing on your toes, arms hastily thrown around his neck as Steve lets out a surprised grunt before catching his balance on the nearby wall.

    "All for you." Steve finishes your sentence and you just about melt in his arms.

    He chuckles when you explore the rest of the jet, taking the time to talk with his pilot, Léon, about the flight plan. Their voices are hushed as you enter the back of the plane, walking into the bathroom to take a moment for yourself.

    It's a lot, overwhelmingly so and you start to feel your heart racing when you think of Steve.

    You've loved before, but have you been in love? The realization causes your breathing to become shallower as you wonder if these past few months have been a whirlwind romance destined to burn out like the brightest flame?

    Or perhaps this bubbling feeling deep in the pit of your stomach has been blossoming, nearly blooming into what so many people refer to as love?

    You gasp when you hear soft knocking on the door, "are you all right, buttercup?" It's Steve, and the nickname causes butterflies to flock to your chest as you swallow your feelings.

    "Just checking out the bathroom," you giggle and well, it wasn't a lie.

    He smiles, taking your hand, "pick a seat, Princess, we take-off soon." Steve says before you're sliding into one of the comfortable, almost too comfortable seats and buckling into it. Steve's hand is in yours, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your knuckles as you feel the same swell in your chest.

~

    Paris, France.

    You'd never been, although you don't think you'll ever want to leave.

    When you arrive it's late in the evening, the bustling city life is alive and well as the car drives from one end of the city to the other and you still can't believe your eyes as you pass by the lit up Eiffel Tower.

    The hotel room is nothing but lavish, with tall windows, balconies, gold and champagne detailing and the largest bed you'd ever seen. The sheets are soft and clean and you want nothing more than to collapse into bed with Steve.

    The bathroom has a claw-foot tub, a full shower, and four sinks along with a velvet chaise.

    "How about a shower, Princess?" Steve asks, sitting on the bed as you fall back onto it. His voice is coarse and rough, no doubt tired from the many hours of travelling as your tired eyes meet him as you nod.

    "Here," Steve stops you when your fingers hook under your shirt, "let me," he offers before slowly undressing you.

    The bathroom is quiet, nothing but the sound of running water heard as Steve removes your clothing before shedding his. The moment is soft, gentle and caring as his touches are featherlight.

    Once the water hits your tired body, you let out a sigh of relief. It's warm, your muscles relaxing under the stream as Steve steps behind you. The glass door fogs up, encasing you in your own world as Steve's hands knead over your tight shoulders.

    "Just relax, Princess. Let Daddy take care of you tonight." He whispers in your ear, it's not sultry, but instead washes an overwhelming wave of relief over you as you let Steve take care of washing your body.

    A fluffy towel is wrapped around your body before the cold air even has time to hit your body. By then the water has lulled you into a state where all you want is for your head to hit the bed, engulfed by the covers as Steve's steady heartbeat soothes you to sleep.

    You aren't really aware of when you get into bed, all you know is Steve is telling you goodnight, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you're thrust into a state of comatose.

~

    The sound of quiet voices is what wakes you, bright sunlight streaming through the nearly translucent curtains making you squint as you let out a groan. You aren't sure how long you've been asleep, but it's probably far too long.

    You roll over, the alarm clock reading 11:37 and yup, you've definitely overslept.

    Who cares, you're in fucking Paris.

    "There's my girl," Steve beams, walking into the bedroom dressed in a casual, yet professional attire. Simple fitted slacks and a tight button down that's not done up all the way with the sleeves rolled up.

    You smile as he presses his lips to yours.

    "I've got some business to take care of this morning, okay? I shouldn't be more than a few hours." He explains as you give him a small pout. "I've ordered breakfast to the room, take your time gettin' ready. Tonight's the big gala so your dresses should be here soon, along with hair and makeup."

    Your eyes nearly bug out at the sound of his words, hair and makeup? Multiple dresses?

    "Don't act so surprised, buttercup. You know Daddy takes care of his girl," he smirks before standing up to his full height.

    "Guess I'll just have to find the best pastries alone," you playfully retort, "I love croissants, remember that." Steve winks before he's giving you one last kiss and disappearing out into the Parisian streets.

~

    Paris was breathtaking, beautiful, and everything you could've dreamed of.

    Yet you couldn't help feel out of place as you walked through the streets alone, soft music playing through your headphones as you tried to scout out the best café in the city.

    You felt stares on you as you tried to keep your head down, people stopping as they looked at you. Maybe you were in your own head, but you could've sworn you saw people take out their phones to… take pictures of you?

    No, you had to be in your own head.

    The hotel was in your sights as you bolted in its direction, a text message from Steve prompting you that everything would be arriving at the hotel soon and that he was on his way back to get ready.

    Your heart hammered, thumping as you realized that you would be on Steve's arm as he introduces you as… his girlfriend.

    "You okay, Princess? You've been quiet this entire ride." Steve asks, fingers lacing with yours as you look down at the gold satin dress you've chosen for the night. It compliments all your best aspects, the colour great on you as you nod your head.

    "Just nervous." You mumble, it was the truth as you felt your stomach churning as you approached the banquet hall. It was gorgeous, lavish from the outside and you couldn't imagine how much nicer it would be on the inside.

    "You've got nothin' to worry about. I won't leave your side, promise." Steve says softly, holding out his pinky for you to hook yours against it. You giggle, doing it as your worries vanish for a split second.

    When you walk into the hall it's littered with people wearing their most expensive gowns, suits, and jewellery as Steve grabs to flutes of champagne.

    "For the nerves," he jokes and you take it, the bubbly alcohol running down your throat distracting you for a second before Steve's hand is on your lower back, leading you through the people.

    "Hey Punk!" The voice that shouts it is low and deep, hearty and boisterous as Steve whips around with the biggest grin on his face.

    "You Jerk," Steve replies playfully, the two embracing in a hug as you take a good look at the other man.

    He's slightly shorter than Steve, dark brown hair in a loose messy bun paired in an all-black suit. If that didn't make him look intimidating enough, he's got a black and gold prosthetic to match his aesthetic.

    "So this the dame that's captured your heart?" The man smirks, casting his eyes on you as you can't help but feel your body flush.

    "Sure is, this is James." He introduced you, your name squeaking past your lips as you shake his hand. James rolls his eyes at Steve, pressing a kiss to your hand as you admire the cool shade of blue his eyes are.

    "Call me Bucky, Doll." He comments as Steve claps his hand over his shoulder, shaking his body as you're thrown into conversation with the two men.

    It's a strange sight, seeing Steve being thrown around by whom you learned to be his childhood best friend turned business partner some years ago. Though you must admit that you like Bucky, he seems like a good influence on Steve.

    "Here, I'll go grab up some more drinks," Steve offers, standing up to press a kiss to your cheek before striding off to the bar leaving you and Bucky alone.

    "You know I gotta admit Doll, I'm real surprised that Steve's found someone." Bucky muses, fixing his collar before turning to you. Your expression is full of confusion as you silently press him to explain himself.

    "After Peggy, I really didn't think the kid had it in him to love again, but here we are." He smiles, it's not malicious or venomous, it's a genuine smile but your heart has dropped into your stomach and all you can hear is the ringing in your ears.

    "Peggy?" Is all you can manage to ask as your heart begins to hammer in your chest.

    "Steve's ex-wife, he didn't tell you about her?" Bucky asks and suddenly he's got a remorseful, regretful look on his face as you shake your head, "no."

    "Paris has the best champagne," Steve breaks the conversation as you look up to meet his eyes, trying to hide your hurt as you take the delicate flute between your fingers.

    "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you say with a tight-lipped smile. You don't wait a response, quickly seeking out the nearest bathroom before you're holding yourself over the sink, trying to calm your breathing.

    Bucky's words continue to replay in your mind, an ex-wife, an ex-wife that he chose to keep secret? You felt tears brimming your eyes and you wanted to scold yourself for thinking a man of his power had no dirty secrets.

    How ironic to have your heart broken in the city of love.

tagging // @jennmurawski13​ | @nakedrogers​ | @vollzeitliebe​ | @kelbabyblue​ | @jevans2​ | @babyyhoneyydarling​ | @rogerslovesstark​ | @cloudystevie​ | @lahoete​ | @speechlessxx​ | @aikeia​​ | 

any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

[hyukmoon]

moon. | l.sy x gn!reader

lee sangyeon x gn!reader

word count: about 4.01k

to put it short: congrats! Something you should actually say, right? Your best friend and crush is getting married in two days and you feel,... well, not very good about it. So, wait... he's returning the feelings? Damn.

content warning: ANGST in capital letters, I would add lots of exclamation points but im lazy. So yeah, hella angsty. Some good old making out, it's kind of heavy at some point but no smut at this point lol. I don't condone any of the done actions, so yeah, I would've personally handled everything differently, but you know, y/n is kinda wild. Very awkward sometimes, but that's more the situation in itself. ALSO, NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @loki-in-hogwarts

note: the second thing i wrote and im somewhat excited!!! Yes! Exclamation points. So,... thanks for reading :)

It was a great day. Well, at least seemingly for everyone but you. Your best friend in this world Sangyeon was about to get married to the love of his life, who is notyou and now you just stand in the hotel lobby waiting for it to happen. Funnily enough, the crushing feeling of desperation and fear didn’t seem to set in yet.

The hotel lobby was filled to the brim with acquaintances and other guests possibly confused by the uproar of the wedding guests. So, who were you specifically waiting for? The rest of your friend group, the ones who will most likely clean up after the wedding whatever will be left of you.

A nervous smile swept up to your lips, casually just avoiding every sort of tension that could come across you. Just with the luck of this entire occurrence an older woman started to approach you, demon alike features spreading around her face almost like she knew you were apparently the only single person here. An aunty, that wasn’t even related to you but had all the business to judge.

“Are you here for the bride or the groom?”, her sweet voice rang a familiar feeling in your stomach. Almost too sweet, making you suspicious of her intent. “I’m here for my best friend, Sangyeon. So, yeah, for the groom.”, you hesitated a second, “What about you though? Do you know the bride?”

“She’s my youngest niece, the only one that still visits, her sisters don’t even care anymore…” You nodded politely, not wanting to anger her now and stepped towards a different direction.

“So, my dear, are you here with anybody?” You already feared that question, the same as always. The eyes of yours started with a panicked expression searching through the room a familiar pair. “No, I am here on my own. I kinda wanted to focus on getting Sangyeon through with it, being there for him.” As a friend.

Possibly this was the first part of feeling despair and fear. People at this wedding were really waiting for them to get married. They weren’t joking, this would change everything.

“Ah, I see. You know, get over him. Well, it is time for you at least, you’re not getting younger. There are quite few handsome men here. I remember the names Juyeon and ah yes! Kevin, get over here!” As far as you were concerned, your facial expression couldn’t possibly look more stunned than a moment ago, yet another one of your good friends appeared, seemingly just as confused.

This only held on for a good second, Kevin knew exactly what to do. “Oh hi, I’m so sorry to steal [Y/N] away from you, but I actually need to talk to them on my own over a gift we both prepared for the couple!”, he grinned at the lady, who was obviously smitten with him. “Yes, of course, hun. Take your time.” She finally hushed into a separate direction.

“So, how are we doing? You seem kinda… stressed.”

“You don’t say”, you sighed, “if I have to go through a conversation like this again today, believe me I’ll-. “

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I get the sentiment. Even though I meant more the other situation. Like in, Sangyeon getting married and you sitting here all grumpy because of it.”, Kevin was already aware of your “small” infatuation with your best friend, a man too far out of your reach also funnily enough, the man’s wedding you’re attending. However, your friend in front of you didn’t seem to mind talking about it out loud in a place like the hotel lobby. Your lips tightened up into a fine line.

“I’m not grumpy! I just…I don’t really know what to do. I mean, I know I’m going to be there for him but yeah, okay, I might feel a bit grumpy.” The lobby did clear up a lot now.

“Okay, oof. There’s this dinner with everyone in the evening today, do you think you can get through that?”, Kevin asked hesitantly just as stressed with this additional complication.

“I mean, I probably have to, don’t I? This makes me so sick, ugh. Not gonna lie, my stomach feels like a laundry machine.” You laughed quietly and drifted off again into a place where you didn’t need to think about this.

“What did you really expect though? You know I love you, respectfully, but like, this feels like an incredibly bad move to do.”

“Don’t you think it would be worse if I didn’t show up at all? I’ll just need to go through this weekend and I’m outta here. No one will know anything.” It might feel like a nightmare but at least a nightmare you can actually run away from and not actually have to face at some point.

“Well, I hope you’ll keep your confidence. Because imagine I saw the person, I love getting married to someone else. Oh my, believe me, you wouldn’t find me for the next three weeks.”

“Not very helpful, a good three out of ten. I guess, I’ll just stick to sulking around then.” A dead smile crept up your lips following a stern look from your side at your opposite.

“Seems like a good plan, just stick to me, maybe we will find someone to take your attention away from this, huh?” A sly grin was visible on Kev’s face.

“Ughhh, of course. Let’s do this. It can’t get much worse than that”, you cleared your throat, “thanks, though. You actually make this here somewhat bearable.”

“Awww, come on. We should pack out our suitcases.”

No one can really prepare someone for a moment like this. Most older folk turned into their hotel rooms which left you in a party like situation seeing your closest friends turning it up in a huge pavilion while the future groom sits comfortably on a velvety sofa hand in hand with his fiancée.

The air was quite warm even at this time of the evening, not humid, just warm enough for everyone to taste the end of this era with nostalgia and a slight feeling of energy to experience what’s to come afterwards.

You as well sat down, continuously processing your environment. With a cup of your favorite drink, you felt invincible, nothing able to shake you down.

Now while this wasn’t a preferred environment, this was manageable; you could look your best friend into his eyes and proudly congratulate him on his wedding. You would be able to get over this and continue to be a great friend. Black hair with an intense facial expression made its way into your viewpoint along with a somewhat tipsy Kevin. Simultaneously the lighter hair of your best friend fought his way through the crowd.

Lee Sangyeon, the man lighting up your mood with simple touch of his fingertips was now signalizing for you to head outside towards the veranda of the pavilion. He exuded patience, yet clearly waiting for a response of you. You nodded and brushed cautiously over your evening attire.

“Hii, [Y/N]! Can I introduce this someone to you? This is Juyeon, he might look a bit intense, but he’s really nice to talk to! So, I’m gone for a sec then!” Kevin started drifting off into a different direction where you stopped him in his tracks.

“Could this wait? Sangyeon needs to talk to me. I think it’s important, I’ll come back though in a bit!” You gifted both of them an apologetic face and made your way around the men towards the going to be groom.

Surely it wasn’t exactly clear why he wanted to speak to you, especially on his own. He was still waiting for you after all.

“[Y/N]! What has it been? Like three? Four months? I missed you so much.”, Sangyeon pulled you into his chest abruptly and sighed softly into your shoulder. Engulfed entirely in his figure you never wanted to wake up from this again. Was it now 10 seconds? 15 seconds? Neither he nor you really seemed to let go, taking in all the scents of his that were formerly familiar to you.

“Yeah, I think so. You were probably busy planning this all and I just had to work, I guess.” Trying to keep it short was your main goal, appearing distant maybe. He didn’t mind at all though. Not discouraged from continuing this conversation Sangyeon pointed at the veranda, showing the only speck of space with little to no crowd.

The veranda was close to closed off to the party. Non distinguishable palm trees in the far distance were playing right into your cards for not having to look into his eyes. Magnetically glowing, that’s how he appeared. All happy and smiley about the obvious luck he was experiencing. Now again, he sat down with you in the beach chairs without loosing a word.

“The palm trees are so pretty. You remember me wanting to buy some new plants?”, you tried to invite him to the conversation.

“You always want to buy new plants, which time do you mean?” Sangyeon grinned to himself. “You know what? It’s so weird. Everything feels still so unreal. This wedding, also you at my wedding… So weird.”

“I am literally your best friend, where else should I be? Your funeral? At home? Who else is going to charm the hotel staff for some free capri suns and new towels?” Your mouth crinkled up and you let out a soft laugh.

“[Y/N] … You know exactly what I mean!”

“Noo, not at all. I’m so confused right now, not gonna lie.” Your face finally moved towards his direction, seeing his gentle gaze resting on you.

“Do you remember when we were still in school, and we promised each other we would marry each other if we didn’t find anybody else?” His gaze got more intense with each sentence.

“Yeahh, kind of. I was probably tired and it’s like ten years ago. I’m not really sure what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I really thought I was going to marry you. For several years, actually.”, he laughed. “I had such a crush on you and then you met your s/o and all that. Ughh, it seemed so complicated back then. Kind of weird to think about what could have happened if I did ask you out or something.”

“True.”, you turned away again standing up and resting against the wooden railing of the pavilion. “But you didn’t so, let’s just drop it there.” The weather as well started rebelling a bit, the wind hugging your figure slightly too tight for your taste.

“Why are you so cold all of a sudden?”, he whispered closely behind you.

“Well, you’re getting married tomorrow. And you’re telling me about a crush you had on me?”, you croaked.

“I was just being nostalgic, I thought this would be fine with you.” Sangyeon appeared now next to you on the railing, waiting for you to face his concerned dark eyes.

“It isn’t for me. It just feels wrong.”

“What feels so wrong about it? It was a long time ago.”

It is here, the bitterness. Bitterness shouldn’t even be the correct term, the pain of your heart going into a slump didn’t feel like a fitting word. Being reminded again that you will never have a chance again.

“Wait or is it not a long time ago for you?”, The voice of his tried to word his next sentence very carefully.

“I went out with them because I thought you were joking. Then when I thought about you, it was always different. It was too late though, you met her.” Only the close ocean along with the wind were hearable, neither you nor he were able to form another thought put into a sentence.

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve-.”

“Broken up with her?”

“No, I-.”

“Then what could you have done?”, you interrupted Sangyeon’s rambling, trembling while speaking. Terribly spiteful with a bite that wasn’t too often dripping down your lips.

“This.” Sangyeon pressed a fluttery kiss against your lips. Slender fingers tapped onto the skin right under your chin, signalizing you to look at him.

The now much calmer atmosphere made you snake your arms around his torso. Heat rose towards your head, longing after a second out in the cold again just to see his lovely facial expression. Your lips broke off and touched once more in an almost hypnotic fashion.

His hot breath started sliding downwards your cheek to your neck, physically making you unable to resist his entrancing presence. Also his hands broached over from your face down to your waist, holding you with the lightest touch.

Sangyeon’s lips darted away from yours, catching you staring deeply into his eyes. The silence felt warm now as well, filled with the slow and recovering breath of the participants.

“[Y/N], I think I still feel that way.”, a rosy blush swept over the man’s face you wanted to hear say these things so many times and so long ago.

“No. No. No. You shouldn’t! I shouldn’t either! I have to go.” The reality of the situation caught up to you. This was bad. Incredibly bad. Still the disgusting feeling of hope within this made its way up to your head. Stinging alongside the feeling of remorse, you didn’t think clearly, especially now, next to him.

You darted in the fastest way possible from the pavilion up to the hotel to your room, leaving him there.

Today should be the final day. The hopes that already should have been buried a long time ago, crawled up again and clawed its way into your mind. What if he leaves her for you today? Like in those unrealistic rom coms. Yes, again, it was unrealistic.

Leaving her at the altar and running after you. While all those thoughts of hope and wishes came together you found yourself with a stomachache. His fiancée was an incredibly nice person, sweet and kind along with being a beauty. You shouldn’t even dare to think about Sangyeon that way anymore, she deserved a lot more. Quite honestly, you felt pathetic. Who were you to run into their possible future?

Just because of a simple brush over the lips, his eyes staring into yours like no one else existed but you and his soft hands delicately touching your waist. A tap on your shoulder put you out of your trance, “[Y/N]? Can you go up to Sangyeon’s room? He asked for you.” Kevin’s eyes glanced at you with uncertainty. Neither you nor he knew why he wanted to see you.

Even more importantly, why did he need to see you alone? This seemed like dangerous territory after, basically yesterday. Agony rose again, what if he really was going to leave her?

“Sure, I don’t know why he wants to see me again though.”, you said and left to see the groom’s room. You stumbled more and more over every step closer to the door of the man who’s going to rip your heart and air out of your lungs. The normally soft laid out carpet felt in this moment like you were stepping barefoot over glass. There was the door, brightly painted in eggshell paired with the digits of the hotel room.

Before you could reach the door to knock on it, light brown waves greeted your overtly surprised face.

“You clean up well.”, Sangyeon’s rang in your ears clearer than freshly hung-up laundry in your nose. His previously concerned face curled up into a faint smile.

“Same goes for you”, you tried your best to hide the very apparent frog in your throat, “So, why do you need me?”

“Just needed to see you before going out there, I guess.”, his voice got a lot quieter. It got silent.

Not sure if a said word was necessary, you plopped down on a small, velvety stool. Every whisper was to be heard. An otherness surrounded Sangyeon, like he wasn’t there anymore, and his thoughts took over his being. You scooted closer towards him, just wanting to see him up close for the last time like this, smelling his earthy cologne from this distance.

“Why are you doing this to me?”, your voice went close to hoarse after the question. He was just as silent as before. No sound, nothing. This torment of a weekend was supposed to end with no gratification, not feeling free from this feeling on your chest? Your hand slid over his, the most desperate attempt to get his attention while also experiencing his touch again. Sangyeon jerked his hand back and returned to his absent posture.

“Why do you want to hurt me like this? I am your best friend, and you use me like I’m nothing.” The lack of power you had now made you sink down to the beige teddy carpet. Small tears started swelling up in your nearly dry eyes, kind of contradictory, yet the more tear drops rolled down your cheeks the rottener and hollow you felt.

“You were my best friend until you-.”, he stopped midsentence, “made me feel things again I didn’t need, I didn’t want.” Also his face was wet, ridden with tears making his usually calm and cheerful persona look like a painful insult.

“You asked me here. It hurts, Sangyeon. I can’t make it stop hurting, I don’t know what to do”, you reached for him again, “Could I ever be enough for you?” He returned your former attempts to stroke your face. Cornering both of you, the air trapped you in the toxins of heartbreak and hopelessness.

Once again, Sangyeon’s hand glid over your soft skin and halted on your face. Glaringly staring into each other’s eyes, you were there again. The day before, yesterday. Close to baring the soul of each person present.

“[Y/N], it’s not about being enough. It never has been. I have made a commitment I already broke, I…I can’t do this”, he sighed, “you know I love her.”

“I thought you loved me as well.” Overwhelming nothingness overruled you, almost scaring you about this reaction. You weren’t crying, yelling nor having any physical reaction at all. It was convincingly numb; the resting hurt would come later. Sangyeon’s head dropped in the dip of your shoulder and neck.

This sort of closeness would never happen again. You feeling him breathing into you while having his comforting heartbeat close to yours.

“I do, but I can’t do this to her. I would never do this to her.”, he whispered into your shoulder. A sigh came from his side.

“Then, please. Kiss me, for the last time.” The last part of the sentence left a disgustingly bitter taste in your mouth. This was over, right? His head, which was formerly resting on your shoulder, drifted up and towards yours. Also his expression blank and hollow, like he didn’t know anything.

For the last time, his hands cupped your face in a comfortable manner. As always, he felt homely, but he surely wasn’t yours ever. Not even waiting a good second or two, the light brunette’s face came closer to yours. With no hesitation both of your lips touched tenderly, releasing every sort of affection that could be expressed at that second. You inhaled again his intoxicating scent, in the hopes of having him all over you. His now reddened lips moved closer towards your jawline making you gasp for air.

Also, you weren’t completely still, constantly shifting your hands up and down over his torso upwards his neck, desperately feeling everything, you can for the last time. Sangyeon’s locks tickled you softly while he suddenly latched his mouth onto your neck right below your ear.

“No. Please, I just want a kiss on my lips.”, you said lowly, closely resembling a whine afterwards. He complied pretty quickly, leaving you with no thought but him tickling your bottom lip with his warm tongue. With him being this fast, you didn’t want to keep him on his toes. Entirely engaged in this moment, hands surprised you again on your waist, wandering closer and closer under the blouse you were wearing. You moaned into the kiss, making him take the opportunity to maneuver his tongue into your mouth.

Similarly to you, he was also stunned for a short moment when you grabbed up onto some strands of hair. A sigh left his now plump lips, a need of fresh air arrived onto both of you. Yet this was short lived, his hands captured your chin and attached his lips again onto yours in a matter of mere seconds. A bell rang, close footsteps to be heard across the floor reminding you of the situation you were in.

“Why am doing this? I am so sorry.”, you broke off his lips and took a step backwards at the door.

“[Y/N], we both did this, and it won’t happen again. We just need some time without each other. I think it would be for the best if we don’t spend time together alone anymore.”

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing? I don’t know what to say. I-.”, His lips captured yours again fast with a lot more force behind his kiss.

A strong arm shut the about to be opened door again and hovered over your head. The other one caught grabbed your chin with an almost contradictory feeling to it, the lightest touch just to shove you into his direction. You sighed into his lips, waiting for him to commit with his tongue one more time. Buttery lips pressed against yours and clang inside your mouth. Fiercely did your tongues meet, ending with him sucking on yours. Wet cheeks batting against each other with no intent of separating, your movement still came to a halt.

“You know what? I hate this. I want you to be happy, then if it is with her, I will just y’know…go or uhm mind my business.”, you slurred the last part. It wasn’t really one of your most prideful moments. Still flushed with tears and embarrassment you dropped again against the room door.

“I ask for one condition though,” incredibly hearse was your voice after the crying and even more so because of your follow up, “I do not not want to see you for some time, I don’t want to have to see your face ever again.” Tears weren’t anymore swelling up in your eyes, they never seemed to stop running down with no chance of leaving this conversation with an ounce of self-respect and pride.

It wasn’t even really much of a problem to leave him behind for a bit, it most likely would be for the best anyway, yet while his words should only leave a small mark and feel like a ripped off band aid, you felt alone. A sense of loneliness crept stealthily into you leaving you with nothing but a severe feeling of dread.

“If that is what you want, I’ll respect that.” The room got quieter till you heard the last of his words: “Of course, I still want you in on my wedding though, you’re still my best friend.” Sangyeon’s usual soft and kind smile appeared on his face, seemingly reaching you an olive branch. The former assertiveness and confidence drained through the conversation; you were nothing but a wreck.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

The ceremony was beautiful. Fairy like flowers were hung all across the beach space, making the place more surreal than it was to begin with. Everything light with a hint of light green and an even lighter lavender tone. The air seemed to have evaporated all the tension and sadness from your face. All across the seats were relatives and friends sitting with a nervously happy face. Ironically, he really thought it was going to be you someday.

“You’re [Y/N], right? Everyone always tried to introduce me to you. Now we’re sitting next to each other at Sangyeon’s wedding together! I’m Juyeon by the way.”

[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part Two - Some Of You

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k - again; das pretty spooky.

Summary: Y/N’s and Javier’s actions on the couch are confronted. 

Content Warnings: No smut just yet... Slow burn? Uh 18+ still though cause Javier’s got a filthy mouth and Y/N can’t stop saying fuck.  Angst. Jealousy. Reference to declining mental health. 

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to get out. I’ve rewritten this three times because I just didn’t enjoy the direction it took. It was way too serious and stuffy, so I’ve gone a little playful with it and I’m kinda into it. Anyway, enjoy!

MASTERLIST

AO3

Part One 

You and Steve spent your first night in Colombia talking about everything and anything. Well, to be more accurate Steve did. For the most part your job was to listen and absorb. If Javier minded the Murphy reunion playing out in his living room he was kind enough not to say anything and stay safely behind his bedroom door. 

By 7am your mind was melted, you had already been going on 24 hours without sleep but taking on this amount of information, man, your brain hurt. They’d hung his cat, he’d beat the shit out of some coke head at the airport and to top it all off he’d saved the Colombian president from a terrorist attack. 

"This place is a real resort, huh?"  You mumbled, rubbing your eyes in disbelief.

"It's definitely something alright," Steve lit what you believed to be his seventh cigarette in four hours, it seemed the stress of Escobar had made his chain smoking worse. "You can't stay here, it's not… it's not a good place to be. It makes you different, harder. Paranoid."  Steve didn’t look good at all, his knuckles were bruised and oozing yellow and his eyes had dark rings of purple no doubt from the sleepless nights he’d had recently.

"I'm not leaving until you look like you're not gonna' blow over at the slightest goddamn breeze. I'm a big girl Stevie, I make my own choices." 

He didn't look impressed but he had no response, you knew that the conversation was far from over but with a shrug and a shake of his head he tabled it for a later date. The two of you sat in silence for a moment as you searched for what to say next.

"I need some sleep and a shower. I figured you wouldn't mind me camping on your couch." 

"Uh, my place…" Steve scratched his neck uncomfortable "is a bit of a wreck. I lost my shit after Con, and I haven't tidied in a while-" 

"A shower please and at least 12 hours of sleep then we'll sort it all out," you stood up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders you towered over him from where he sat.

Javier's bedroom door opened and Steve shot up out of your embrace. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment at being caught feeling his feelings.

"Javi, I can't thank you enough man... Thanks for looking out for her." Steve clapped his partner on the shoulder.  "Sorry if we kept you up,”

"Nah, I passed out after you got here,” Javier supplied kindly and whilst you knew it probably wasn’t true, you thought it was nice that he tried. “I’m about to head out, got a lead on Escobar to look into, got some concrete info from my informant. But you’re welcome to crash here, shower and rest… last I saw it, looked like a bomb went off in his place.” He snarked with a smoke hanging out of his mouth and buttoning up his fresh orange shirt. 

“Thanks man,” Steve muttered for the third time this morning though this one was laced with sarcasm. “He’s right though, you should get some sleep here and give me some time to fix it up.”

“Don’t be silly. If Javier really doesn’t mind I’ll rest up here and help you clean it after. I’m here to help Steve, so let me.”  

“Makes no odds to me,” Javi drawled with a shrug whilst pulling on his boots. After a quick tour of the bedroom and shower, you thanked him before turning to your suitcase and pulling out a fresh pair of pyjamas and your toiletries.

The two men were talking about the ‘concrete info’ Javier had gotten from his informant the night before, when you stood up and spotted the towel Javi had placed upon the table. When you got close they both clammed up, making you narrow your eyes in suspicion, though Steve ignored it completely. 

“I’ll get some shut-eye too, come and knock when you’re up,” Your  brother announced whilst stretching with a groan as he turned towards the door.

“Make yourself at home,” Javier smirked. His tone was full on innuendo even if he didn’t say anything inherently sexual. You turned quickly and clutched your toiletries closer, flustered by his words.  You hadn’t known quite how he was going to interact with you this morning, part of you had been scared he’d ignore you completely so you were quite happy with the easy going kindness.

You closed the door and sighed, feminism was really taking a hit at your hands. Jesus Christ you were pulling the whole female race back a couple of centuries as you could barely look a man in the eyes with flushing a bright red and losing your ability to manufacture sentences. 

You turned on the faucet of the shower just as Javier showed you. Whilst it was heating you up you turned to look in the mirror, your hair was a shade darker than it should’ve been coated in a disgusting cocktail of what you could only imagine was grease and sweat. Pulling your hair back, you noticed you had a bruise forming between the curve of your jaw and behind your ear.  Was this guy secretly a 17 year old boy? leaving you with a goddamn hickey.

You peeled your fragrant clothes all while cursing Javier's name. You stepped into the shower and washed away the stress of the past night. All had ended well you supposed, better than well really. You’d made it here safe, found Steve and made out with a gorgeous man. The only downside was now you were here you saw how awful your brother looked. 

Sighing, you decided to compartmentalise these complex thoughts until you had at least 8 hours of sleep under your belt. So you washed both your hair and your body quickly, reaching beyond the shower curtain for your toothbrush. You spent longer than was really necessary brushing your somewhat fluffy teeth before dropping the instrument back on the counter. 

When you were finally done, you rinsed off and turned off the tap, exhaustion hitting hard now you were finally in the end zone. You looked around for your towel only to realise it was still on the dining table, you’d been distracted by the mens hushed whispers and Javiers teasing remarks.

“For fuck sakes,” you huffed under your breath out of the frustration of yet another task being between you and sleep. So after wringing out your hair you opened the bathroom door and peeped your head out.  

The coast was clear, or at least it appeared that way. 

As you rounded the corner, Javier was sitting with a coffee cup in his hand, and the towel resting in front of him with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“You forget something?”

You let out a dignity killing squeak and dove for the blanket that lay on the back of the sofa. You couldn’t believe the gall of this man.

“I could ask you the same thing! I thought you were going!” You proclaimed, gasping at the audacity of this man. 

“Wanted a cup of coffee, y’know, start my day off right,” his face held absolutely no remorse and there was something distinctly challenging that dwelled there. 

"You're a fucking perv, you do realise that spying on unsuspecting women as they get out of the shower isn't very cop-like." You growl at the man. 

"Whose spying? I'm just sitting here enjoying my morning coffee, whilst you waltz around my apartment naked." He smirked holding his hand up "If anything I'm the injured party, what with you throwing yourself at me."

Your instant reaction was outrage, a huff left your body before you could restrain your response, that shit eating grin of self satisfaction remained on his beautiful face. It was so much worse than the usual smirk that usually resided there, you wanted nothing more but to knock it off him. 

Schooling your face you rolled your eyes at his words and released your hold on the blanket. Two could play at this game.

"Whoops," 

You saw his eyes widen and flick down your body for just a second before the mahogany eyes narrowed and settled back on your own. 

If this was a game he wanted to play, you’d win it. 

It was your turn to smirk as you stepped over the blanket completely stark naked in the living room of a man whose last name you didn’t know and who just so happened to be your brother's partner.

You strolled forward noting how his eyes never left your own, the man had some real willpower.  You had meant what you said last night, this was definitely not a good idea. You were playing with fire and you could guarantee Steve would murder you both if he found out about this, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play a little bit of cat and mouse.

So you ignored the man completely and grabbed the towel from the table in front of him. You turned away and began patting yourself dry before rubbing at your hair as you walked back to the bathroom. 

“Have a good day at work!” You call as you use your foot to kick the door closed behind you, though the door doesn’t finish its journey as a hand catches it and flings it back. The sheer force with which it slams into the wall makes your eyes widen and take a startled step backwards. 

Javier stands in the doorway, staring at you. Your facade of confidence is knocked as you stare at him, he walks forward slowly, all swagger as usual and takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

Much like last night, he places a teasing single, solitary kiss on your lips. Your eyes shut as you wait for the onslaught to begin. But it doesn’t. He pulls away before placing a finger on the bruise on your neck, which was now on full display as your hair was pulled back from your face, dripping water down your body.

“Sweet dreams, maravillosa.” He whispers a voice like honey, backing up. His eyes, deliberately slow, roamed your body before they rose to meet your own. There were no playful winks or smirks present any more, only a heat. A burning fire between the two of you. 

He was an arms length away from you but you felt a pressure on your chest, it was constricting your breathing. Making it hard to think, you didn't move or speak for fear it would break the spell. No words were passed between you as he took you in one last time and then turned on his heel and strolled out of the apartment. 

That fucking bastard. He'd won again. 

...

It was dark when you awoke to the front door slamming closed, it took you a moment to realise where you were. 

Your head felt like it was full of wool and your teeth felt heavy in your mouth, you rubbed at your eyes feeling like you'd slept for an age. 

You remembered the events of the previous night as you looked around taking in his room, minimal decorations, it looked like a prison cell rather than a bedroom. Javier was definitely not a nester. 

Oh God Javier. The man you'd had at least two sexual encounters with in the past 24 hours. You'd thrown yourself at your brother's partner like a sex starved maniac, but my God, he was making you feel more alive than you had in years. 

You sighed and lay back down, closing your eyes and rubbing your head. You grabbed the pillow and put it over your face. You weren't here for Javier, the lovely distraction he was proving to be, you were here for Steve. Steve was a goddamn mess, he was all over the place. Volatile, emotional and drunk, apparently, a large percentage of the time.

No, you decided, with a clear head for the first time in 48 hours. You could indulge in Javier when Steve had his head screwed back on and not a moment sooner. You would restrain yourself, you were not a blushing teen, contrary to your recent behaviour. You could do this.

You breathed out in a forlorn sigh, my God he'd destroy you. You knew all that swagger had to have experience to back it up. 

Restraint Y/N, restraint. 

You huffed in frustration and were struck by his scent, it had been around you all day, but he was condensed into the pillow covering your face. It smelt like smoke and his own brand of spice, something that brought his cocksure face into your minds eye. 

This was going to be difficult. 

Placing the pillow back down where you'd found it you rolled into a standing position, stretching out your arms above your head. You heard someone moving around in the lounge, a man and a woman talking. 

Narrowing your eyes to step silently over the suitcase you'd moved into the bedroom last night and pulled out a pair of jeans, an undershirt and nondescript plaid shirt. You pretty much threw them on along with clean underwear as quietly as you could, it was as you were sitting on the bed pulling your socks on you heard the scrape of the sofa and silence throughout the apartment. 

What in the hell?

It was then you decided to make as much noise as you possibly could… your rational brain told you he wouldn't… no- he couldn't be so god damn stupid not to check you weren't still in his bed before bringing a woman home after you'd been dry humping on that sofa not 12 hours ago. 

You pulled on your trainers, steeling yourself for what you were about to find. This was either going to be a huge misunderstanding and you’d misconstrued the sounds or he was banging some lady out- A moan cut through your thoughts. No. No fucking way! That absolute fucker, getting you all hot for him and then pulling this shit! 

You were struck by your position then, you were in his bedroom. Trapped. There was no clean exit. At this point the name of the game was damage control. You planned in your head, just get out of the apartment with as much dignity as you can muster. Resolved you all but launched your suitcase upwards crashing it into the wardrobe as it went and zipped it making sure to make it drag it out as much as possible to make the most noise you could. 

You took in a breath, dragging your suitcase behind you and opened the bedroom door slowly and pretty damn stealthily if you do say so yourself, the apartment was dark, the only light source was from the warm glow of the street lamps outside. 

So, you began your escape, taking a hesitant step forward. One foot after the other you got closer to the door, the wheels on your suitcase frustratingly loud, they had not got the memo that your mission had changed and your panicked brain now wanted to escape without confrontation.

As you rounded the corner, your stomach dropped. There, in the same position you had been not hours before was a woman, completely naked and riding the man that had invaded your dreams and had made you lose your head like no other.  

You stopped dead in your tracks for just a moment before your fight or flight instinct kicked in. Now you'd like to say you're a fighter, the kind of girl to stick up for herself but all you wanted was for the ground to open and swallow you up. So in a moment of unhinged panic you made a run for it. Ditched the suitcase in the hall and hauled ass. 

You weren't proud of it by any stretch of the imagination but you escaped pretty much unscathed apart for your dignity. That bitch was abandoned with the suitcase, decimated on the hallway floor. But hey, who really needed dignity?

You heard a surprised shout of something that sounded vaguely like ‘what the fuck?!’ from the lovers in Spanish as the door slammed behind you.  You were taking the steps three at a time in sheer fear Javier and his lover would follow you out of the apartment. You knocked on the door of Steve’s place, praying to all that was holy that he was awake. Your luck, it would seem had not run out. As Steve opened the door looking as fresh as a daisy, well. A daisy that had been carried around in a child's pocket, mushed and missing a few petals, but you appreciated the effort of him tidying himself up.

“You alright?” His eyebrows dropped as he took in your sweating forehead and gasping breath.

“Uh, yeah? I ran into Javier and his … girlfriend? I think he forgot I was there.” You weren’t proud that you snitched to your brother but that was the best way of getting your things back without seeing Javier, you needed a hot second for this awkwardness to scab over. 

“Fucksake Javi,” He pushed past you and nodded his head towards the apartment. “Make ya’self at home, yeah?” 

With a nod you stroll into the living room still struggling to breathe. You throw yourself onto the couch, that was thankfully nothing like the one downstairs. 

You were such a pussy.  

You couldn’t explain why but seeing that had been a punch to the gut, you’d known him for an evening, you had absolutely no claim on the man but a part of you still mourned what could have been. Javier was exactly like eating peanut butter from the jar, you know you shouldn’t do it and your family gets annoyed if they find out but my God if it isn’t more delicious that way. 

You would’ve let him take you apart piece by piece uncaring of if he put you back together after. He looked like the kind of man that knew exactly how to do it but it was a moot point now, it was over. 

Jesus. You had to draw the line somewhere for your self respect. So that's how you rationalised your anger, you were annoyed at him for messing up a good thing you had going, the sex would’ve been filthy it would’ve renewed your faith in the universe. It was one hundred percent annoyance at him, you were not jealous. 

Okay maybe 90% annoyance, 10% jealousy. It had been the woman from last night, all leggy and gorgeous. That bitch.

No, No, No. Y/N. 

Being angry at her was easy but she wasn’t the one humping you on a couch. Javier was the bitch here.  Your inner monologue was cut short by two male voices, coming up the stairs.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.” You whisper and leap out of your seat, you run for the door on your left as it looks like the bathroom in Javier’s apartment. The two men are close now, maybe at the top of the stairs? You open the door to reveal a fucking closet.  You close your eyes and wince in desperation as you hear their voices outside the door. 

There’s not enough time to dwell on your declining mental stability as you throw yourself into the cupboard and close the door behind you. You back up and nearly knock something off of the shelf, you turn and catch it in time. You can’t see what the bottle holds as you’re stuck in pitch black but your nervous hands have an iron grip on the plastic. The front door is pushed open, only you can’t see anything except from the strip of light that goes around the perimeter of the door. 

“... I swear, you best hope…” Comes Steve’s laughing voice, he sounds strained. “Thanks for the help man, I’ve said that so many times recently it's gonna lose its meaning, but really. Me, you and Y/N -where ever the hell she's got to -we’ll get dinner as a real thanks for all your help.”

“Hey’ like I said. It’s no trouble, I’m just sorry I forgot she was there man!” He sounded meeker than you remembered. 

“She’s a big girl as she likes to keep reminding me. I’m sure she’s fine with it. Beer?” 

“Nah, I’m good, I got Valeria downstairs. Tell Y/N I said goodnight, ok?”

“Tell her yourself, Y/N!” You close your eyes and smack your head.

‘He was fucking leaving you idiot’ you seethe within your mind. 

You hear Steve walk past to the hallway that leads to either of the two doors you could’ve made a run for and actually had an explanation for being behind. But no, here you were hiding in a fucking closet with a quickly waning amount of time before you got caught. 

“Where the hell’s she gone?!” Steve all but shouted as he threw a door open. “She’s not here, I was only gone five minutes, they couldn’t have-” 

The spiral was coming. This was Colombia after all, his mind had gone to the worst possible scenario, so cringing all while you pushed open the door of your hiding spot to meet the cocked guns of the two DEA agents. One with frantic eyes, the others laden with concern.

Javier looked sinfully disheveled, he’d clearly dressed in a hurry. (Join the club asshole.) Steve looked disbelievingly at you, shaking his head and holstering his gun in the back of his jeans.

“... Uh, I was looking for, um…” You look down at the product in your hands “... Fabric Softener?” Your voice lifts at the end of the sentence, your lie sounds awful even to your ears, but it's your story and you plan on sticking to it.

Both of the men look at you expecting you to elaborate, but you stare right back, more so at Steve than Javier. His face currently causes a nagging sensation in your jaw, making your lips want to purse in disapproval. 

“Thanks for your help Javier.” You say cheerily, placing the bottle back on the shelf.

He stares at you, like you're a cornered animal and he doesn’t quite know if he should duck for cover. His eyes follow you hesitantly as he too holsters his weapon. “Sorry, if you saw-” 

“It’s fine. Don’t sweat it.” You smile at him, your voice is no longer false as you force a dishonest genuinity to it. “Small price to pay for a comfy bed. You shouldn’t keep her waiting though.” 

“Yeah..” His eyebrows meet in the dip in the centre, like he's trying to figure out a tricky maths equation and keeps getting the answer wrong. He nods one last time and gives your brother a clap on the shoulder before vacating the apartment.

“Well,” Your brother starts “That was fuckin’ awkward. Nice hiding spot, Moron.” You burst out laughing at his understatement of the year.

“I mean, I saw him banging that lady, I couldn’t make eye contact after that.” You play it off, but you feel like there’s something to your voice you can’t quite disguise, but if Steve notices he doesn’t stop smiling, so you’re happy. 

You take the beer out of his hand and point to the cards on the table “Ready for me to whip ya’ like a dog?”

The awkwardness is quickly forgotten. Well, Steve forgets it at least. You don’t. A couple of hours later as you're lying on Steve's couch, trying to force yourself to sleep so you’re not quite so jet lagged tomorrow, you find yourself thinking about it. Analysing Javier’s actions. 

After an hour of lying in the dark in contemplation, you can confirm you have no fucking clue why a person would do what he did.  The only air tight hypothesis you have as you finally drift off is that he just wanted all the pussy, got greedy and got caught. Your eyes close as you finally lose consciousness with your heart in your gut.

You wake at 5am. The sun is just rising as you roll over, straight onto the wooden floor.

“Fuuck.” You groan, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. 

You felt like absolute shit. If you’d thought 10 hours of sleep had knocked you into tuesday, a further forced three hour nap had done you no favours. Rubbing your eyes you shrugged out your shoulders trying your hardest to work out the kink you deserved for sleeping on a sofa. It was barely dusk but a soft golden light was warming up the room. 

You sat up and reached to your backpack, pulling out the book you’d purchased at the airport in a hurry; ‘Spanish for Kids.’ There had been a distinct lack of Spanish for beginners and whilst you had faith in yourself, intermediate espanol had scared you off.

So learning to speak like a toddler seemed the better of the two decisions. You didn’t want to be presumptuous about how long you were going to last in Colombia, but you had no plans on going home any time soon. Steve looked like shit, you’d quit your job at the grocery store and Connie was taking care of the rent on your apartment. You were as free as a bird, figuratively speaking, you had no doubt your brother would forbid you to leave the apartment, as if that was in his power. 

You sat patiently reading and repeating the words for about two hours, religiously scanning the thin book as if it was the word of God from cover to cover three times. You now had the ability to give people strange facts about yourself, yep, rather underwhelming for two hours work, nevertheless, it was progress.

First job is to find another translation book, Stevie would probably be able to get his hands on one. You looked to the clock on the wall, 7:32am. You could hear Steve snoring away in bed as you stood, pulling on your clothes from last night. You surveyed the fridge and found it lacking even the basics. 

With a daring plan, you grabbed Steves keys and wallet from his leather jacket on the hook near the front door. You scribbled a note on the pad near the phone and left it on the dining room table, just so he didn’t think the Sicarios had decided to hang his sister this time. 

You took the cash and dropped the rest of his wallet, folding the wad of money and putting it in your front pocket. Grabbing your shades from the table, you all but skipped out of the apartment taking the steps in quick little hops.  As you took the last step into the lobby, you ran into the exact last person you wanted to see slipping back into the building.  

“Y/N…”

“Hey Javier.” You replied with what you hoped was passable as a smile. There was silence and you could see the usually slick man, scrambling to come up with a topic. For the first time in your life, you let another human flounder and enjoyed it. You had nothing to say to him, zip, nada. Not your problem. 

“No Steve?”

“Nah, He’s sleepin’ thought I’d get some groceries.”

“Alone?”

“I made it here in one piece, didn’t I?”

The man's eyebrows furrowed. “Gimme’ a sec’. I’ll come along.”

“Seriously Javi, I appreciate you being such a good friend to Steve. But I’m fine. Honestly. Steve said last night that the shop’s two blocks to the left.”

“Nah, I need some eggs.” You were bemused by his response. But fine, if he wanted to continue this exercise in torture he could feel free to. You shrugged and gestured towards his apartment. He turned on his heel and raced back in, for what, you couldn’t guess. He returned not two minutes later, yellowed sunglasses sitting lazily on his nose and a hand in his back pocket. 

“After you,” He all but whispered in your ear as he came up behind you holding the building door open, giving a wonderful performance of a gentleman. You strolled out surprised the sun was this strong even first thing in the morning. You could feel it beginning to power up for the day as it bathed your skin in a soothing warmth. 

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes as you took in Colombia. It wasn’t quite what you expected, maybe not as impoverished. You didn’t have much time to dwell on that analysis, before Javi pulled you from your surroundings.

“Look, about last night…” He trailed off as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“Don’t worry. Honestly.”

“I-”

“No. Honestly, we fooled around. It was a bad idea to start with, maybe it’s good, y’know, that things turned out this way.”

“I-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No. Look. My brother’s a shit show. Absolute train wreck happening in slow motion. I came here for him, I’ve got way too much on my plate right now to worry about where you're sticking your dick. So we’re gonna start over, no awkwardness, no nothing. Hi, I’m Y/N Murphy.” You offered him your hand in surrender, now he may have just witnessed a break in your mental health but he had a half smile on his face as if he had found your soul spilling endearing, instead of deranged. He wrapped his bronzed hand around your significantly smaller one.

“Javier. Javier Peña. Nice to meet you again, guapa.”

“Fucksake, Javi. You don’t make it easy.”  He let out another body shaking hearty chuckle at your words. 

“I’m Javier, remember? I’ve never felt your wet pussy through my jeans.” Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. He’d taken your white flag and set it on fire and was currently using it to set your lower body alight.  “Start over? Like I can get you my outta my fuckin’ head. I didn’t come with you today because I’m Steve’s good friend. I came to get fuckin’ eggs I don’t fuckin’  need because I want to know how you taste.” He’d backed you up against the gate that surrounded what looked like a church, your hand grabbed at the black bar as he advanced on you, the two of you were close but not touching.

“You’ve tasted me.”

“Not those lips, amada.” You couldn’t help but gulp at his words. How were you here, you’d been so angry at him last night. Last night, when he’d woken you up fucking another woman. Ice water shot down your spine as you pushed at his chest.

“No.” You hissed, your hands pushing him again. “You’re giving me fuckin’ whip-lash! One minute you’re getitng me excited thinking I’ma’ bout’ to get the best fuck of my life, the next your screwin’ someone whilst I’m asleep in your fuckin’ bed! Are you insane? They need to either up or lower your dosage, because I don’t know what would make you think that this is okay!”

He huffed, backing off of you but not quite aquiasing to your shoves. “An informant, she was a fuckin’ informant.”

“Oh Javier! Why didn’t you say!” You gasp, before you roll your eyes. “This makes absolutely everything okay.” 

Sarcasm dripped from your voice as he seemed to reel from your words, the fucker actually thought he had gotten out of it.

“It’s my job. Finding Escobar, that’s it. That’s all that matters, that’s the end game.”

“Fine. Do your job, just leave me out of it.” He huffed at your words rubbing in between his eyes.

“I have never met anyone as goddamn infuriating as you, Murphy.”

“Fuckin’ likewise, Peña!” The two of you seemed to be in a stare off, neither of you willing to submit. You knew who was in the wrong and from the way he huffed before rubbing the back of his neck, he did too.

“Hello, nice to meet you, I’m Javier Peña. What’s your name?”

NEXT PART

@drinkingwhileblogging​ @va-guardianhathaway  @jedi-jesi

Tag List - Just ask if you’d like to be added to the night we met tag list.

[eddiemunson-thehero]

hey there I've an idea for a bucky request, just an idea though if you don't wanna write it that's completely fine! : ) so im thinking super angst with a sprinkle of fluff maybe? bucky either has a nightmare or some type of episode as the winter solider and attacks reader but doesn't remember doing it, then when he sees reader again he keeps pestering her asking what happened to her bcuz he can see that she's injured. she doesn't want him to feel bad so she tries her best not to tell him but he keeps asking and wanting to talk to her to see if she's okay and she eventually tells him that he did it

Why of course! I hope this is something along the lines of what you requested. I ended up getting a bit carried away hahaha.

Here is Line Without A Hook

You, Bucky, and the rest of the team had just returned from a grueling mission infiltrating a Hydra base in Russia. To be expected Bucky was a bit shaken by being back there, he was quiet most of the ride back in the Quinjet. Deciding that a nice scalding long shower would not only ease your tension but also Bucky’s, you began to light sweet smelling candles along the sink and warm two towels in the dryer.

“Bucky come here my love,” you called out as you were discarding your tactical gear and stepping into the shower. After a few minutes of no response from your blue-eyed lover, you peek your head around the shower curtain, glancing around the room in search of Bucky. Not being able to find him made your heart drop to the depths of your body, slipping out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel, setting off to find him.

When you enter your shared bedroom that is attached to the bathroom your nerves settle, finding your lover stationed stagnant on the bed as if he had fallen asleep sitting up. You walk over and place your hand on his shoulder, only to be met with his metal hand gripping your wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and up against his chest. 

“Bucky what’s going on?” you question, confused by the sudden force of violence he has used upon you. Apparently talking to him wasn’t the right move, seeing as you were now being shoved face-first against your bedroom wall, picture frames falling down from the force, glass shattering around the two of you. Gashes and cuts litter your face as blood begins to trickle down, seeping its way onto the white towel.

Your blood begins to run cold, soon realizing what exactly was going on, the mission had affected Bucky more than he had let on, more than you had realized. Being back in the cold of Russia, in the Hydra base had weakened Bucky, letting The Winter Soldier take main control of his mind and body. Struggling against the grasp that he had on you was no use, as the Soldat roughly turns you around shoving your back against the wall, bringing his metal appendage to wrap around your throat. Before his grasp became too tight you let out a blood-curdling scream, hoping someone would hear and come to your rescue. Black spots begin to speckle across your vision, breathing becoming more ragged as your limp body falls from the grasp of your lover.

________________________

Bright shining lights, hushed conversations, and the scent of sterilized tools are what you awoke to. Blinking slowly, allowing your eyes to adjust to the light you saw that you were in the infirmary located in the compound. Steve and Nat were at the door, indulging in a hushed conversation that you weren’t able to make out. Gently raising your body to sit up caused alarms to sound on the countless monitors that you were hooked up to, which made Steve and Nat’s heads whip around to see your terrified eyes.

Steve rushed to your side, “Y/N, are you okay? How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to realize the tightness and dryness in your throat. Slowly you reached over to grasp the cup of water next to your bed, bringing it to your lips carefully, gulping down its contents quickly. “I’m okay, what happened” you rasped.

“You don’t remember?” Nat questioned, leading you to shake your head no. “Bucky attacked you, something from the mission…” she hesitated, “caused him to lose control on his mind and body, allowing for the Winter Soldier to resurface.” 

“Where is he?” you didn’t care what had happened to you, bruises and cuts would heal with time, the emotional turmoil this would cause Bucky would simply break him. You needed to get to him before he realized what the Winter Soldier had done to you, ripping out your IV and removing your nose cannula, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed ready to find him.

Steve grasped your arm, pulling you back into bed, “He’s in bed, he hasn’t woken up yet, he doesn’t know…” 

“Don’t tell him,” you begged, “Please don’t tell him, he will never forgive himself, let me handle it.” Steve and Nat shared a concerning glance between each other before slowly nodding, knowing that if and when Bucky finds out what happened, he would never forgive himself and would surely disappear. 

After a few hours of tests, you were discharged and were able to go back to your room. Walking down the hallway your breath hitched as you hesitated opening up the door to your shared bedroom with your lover. Hearing his soft snores is what pulled you from the trance, twisting the knob and slipping in quietly. Discarding your clothing in the laundry basket, you crawled your way into bed, next to the man you recognized, smiling peacefully to yourself, you know in your heart that you two will be able to overcome this, as long as he never finds out he was the one to inflict so much harm upon you.

____________________________

The next morning you awoke to soft feather-light kisses being pressed along your spine. Contently you rolled over to snuggle closer to the warmth that radiated off of Bucky, welcoming arms encased you bringing you closer to his chest. Opening your eyes and slowly looking up at Bucky, you heard him inhale harshly, eyes filled with terror and worry. “What the hell happened to you doll?” he stuttered.

“Oh you don’t remember?” you questioned hesitantly, “I got caught up during the mission, some Hydra agents got to me but, you rescued me, my knight in shining armor you.” Letting out a breath you did not know you were holding, you stared at Bucky, praying to God that he believed you.

“No, I don’t remember that, I don’t remember much of the mission…” he trailed off, looking at you questionably. Slowly removing yourself from his grasp, you left the warmth of your bed, extending a hand out to him. “Come on, let's go eat,” you whispered, hoping he would drop the subject. Bucky intertwined his hand with yours, pulling himself out of bed, trekking down the hall to the kitchen where Steve, Nat, and Tony were chatting over breakfast.

“Good morning everyone,” cheerfully you skipped over to the fridge to get out the jam while Bucky grabbed the bread and peanut butter for your breakfast meal.

“Y/N what the hell happened to you?” Tony gasped when your mangled neck and face came into view.

“Oh nothing, just a few scratches from the mission, don’t worry I’m okay,” you replied, hoping everyone would just drop the subject.

“It wasn’t on the debrief, I read it just a few moments ago, care to explain this?” you felt four sets of eyes on you as you slowly turned around, hesitating on your next sentence you locked eyes with Nat and Steve wordlessly begging them for their help.

“Doll…” Bucky moved slowly near you, grabbing both of your hands, pulling you to look at him but, you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. Steve and Nat ushered Tony out of the kitchen with hushed whispers. A metal hand reached under your chin, lifting it and making you hold eye contact with Bucky. You open your mouth to start to try and explain but nothing comes out as tears slip down your cheeks. That was an answer enough for Bucky, to realize that the gashes and cuts on your face, the bruise that cascaded down your neck was him. “Did I…” Bucky’s eyes shifted to the floors, dropping your hands from his as he began to step back from you.

“Buck, honey it’s okay I’m okay,” you rushed out moving towards him, which only caused him to back himself up against the wall away from you. “It wasn’t you, this wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know how going there would affect you, no one could have predicted this.” As soon as those words slipped from your lips he was gone, rushing away from you. 

_________________________

You didn’t see Bucky for the rest of the day, you decided to give him the space he needed, hoping that by the end of the night he would come back to you. Wait, that was all you were able to do. When dusk fell your day spent walled up in your room became unbearable, you slipped out of bed, letting your legs carry you to the living room of the compound where you found Steve. Sitting next to him startled him, causing him to look up at you with glossy bloodshot eyes.

“Steve, where’s Bucky?” you question, unsure why the soldier broke down in front of you. Mindlessly you wrapped your arms around him, cooing gently to him.

“He’s gone…” he muttered, “Bucky left this afternoon, to Wakanda.” Steve glanced up at you to see a play-by-play of your heart-shattering. “Shuri said she could get the Winter Soldier program out of him within some time, so he left.”

Wordlessly you curled into Steve’s arms, slowly realizing that the love of your life left you, without even saying goodbye or a promise of returning.

[thelastspeecher]

Spirit Touched - Chapter 1: Little Prince

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6   AO3

Uhhhh so this is the first time I’ve written and posted something for ATLA, and of course it wound up being because of a fanart of a fanfic that I adore.  Basically, yesterday I saw this art drawn by my pal @agent-jaselin.  And that art appeared to apply one of my all-time favorite tropes (de-aging) to one of my all-time favorite fics (Salvage, by @muffinlance).  And dagnabit, I...got inspired.

So, without further ado, here is my interpretation of a theoretical Zuko being de-aged after Chapter 8 of Salvage.  Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Praying to the spirits for guidance was a mistake.  Hakoda could see that now.  He pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to dispel the headache already forming.

              This is what I get for thinking the spirits might make things easier. Their actions are rarely convenient for us mortals.

              “Bring him to Kustaa,” Hakoda said after a moment.  Toklo nodded and hurried for the healer’s room, his friend in his arms, buried in a pile of furs.  Bato looked at Hakoda.  He raised an eyebrow silently.

              “That’s new,” he said.  The casual tone made Hakoda’s headache pound in full force.  Bato was treating this as just another matter of fact.  Like seeing the former Prince of the Fire Nation reduced to a toddler overnight was just as common as…

              Hakoda’s head hurt too much to even think of something that was common.

              “Yes,” Hakoda finally said.  “It is new.” He was struggling to align the grumpy teenager of yesterday with the toddler he’d just seen drooling in his sleep.

              “How could this have happened?” Bato asked quietly.

              “I asked the spirits for help last night.”  Hakoda scowled.  It was help he’d desperately needed, after Zuko had broken down in front of him and renounced his crown, maybe even renounced his own nation.  And it was help he was obviously not getting. “Apparently, they didn’t want to make things easier.”

              “The spirits work in mysterious ways,” Bato said.  “It’s best to trust in their judgement.  Eventually, you’ll understand why they’ve done…this.” Hakoda eyed his second-in-command.

              “Since when are you so spiritual?”

              “Since meeting the bridge between the spirit world and ours,” Bato said flatly.

              “Fair enough.”  Hakoda sighed.  “I should go speak with Kustaa.”

              “I might be best if you were there when the little prince woke up,” Bato agreed.  He thumped Hakoda on the back.  “At least you’re good with children!”

----- 

              Unlike every other day since he’d recovered from his illness, Zuko didn’t wake up with the sun.  If he didn’t remember how much his own children slept at this age, Hakoda would have been concerned.  He sat in the infirmary, having a hushed conversation with Kustaa while Zuko continued to snore.  The sight of a toddler swimming in furs was painfully cute and reminded Hakoda of when Sokka was young.

              “I’ll be able to get a better examination done once he’s awake,” Kustaa said in a low voice.  “But from what I can tell, he’s perfectly healthy.”

              “He’s a toddler,” Hakoda said.

              “A healthy one.”  Kustaa glanced at Zuko.  “By my estimation, about four years old.  So, almost out of the toddler years.”  Zuko rolled over in his sleep, mumbling something.  Kustaa and Hakoda held their breaths.  Zuko didn’t wake up.  “From what he’s told me, he didn’t get that scar until a few years ago, so I’m not completely sure why he still has it.”

              “The spirits are testing me,” Hakoda moaned.  Kustaa chuckled.

              “No, Chief.  The spirits are testing all of us with this stunt.”  He sighed and leaned back.  “Now would be a good time to have a waterbending healer, to examine his spirit and chi.  But the odds of finding one of those…”

              “Aren’t good unless we stumble across a Northern Tribe ship,” Hakoda said, finishing the healer’s sentence.  Kustaa nodded.  There was movement from Zuko’s pile of furs.  Hakoda and Kustaa looked over.  A small hand fought its way out, followed by a head.  Zuko’s regular scowl was replaced by confusion as he stared at Hakoda and Kustaa, who most likely seemed larger to him than they had yesterday.

              “You’re up,” Kustaa said calmly.  Zuko shoved away the furs he was buried in.  His eyes widened at the sight of his body.  Hakoda grimaced.

              There was a split second of dumbfounded silence before the screaming started.

----- 

              Kustaa wasn’t sure whether he preferred Zuko like this or not.  On the one hand, it would be difficult to run the ship with a literal toddler on board.  But on the other hand, it was much easier to handle Zuko.  He could literally be picked up and carried somewhere else if needed.

              “This doesn’t fit right!” Zuko whined.  Kustaa glanced over at his young charge.  Zuko had insisted on dressing himself in the smallest shirt they could find on the ship.  That smallest shirt came down to past his feet.

              Then again, so will everything else.  Kustaa beckoned Zuko to come.  Zuko scowled but walked over.  Kustaa fought back an amused grin at the firebender’s toddling gait.  While not as severe as it would be for someone younger, it was still evident.

              “Nothing is going to fit right until either we adjust clothes to fit you or purchase ones already in your size,” Kustaa said.  He adjusted the shirt as best he could by pinning it up and wrapping rope around Zuko’s waist to act as a belt.  “Now that you’re dressed, we need to go see the chief.” Zuko’s eyes went wide in horror.

              “No!  I’m not going outside like this.”

              “Everyone knows what’s happened to you,” Kustaa said, getting to his feet. He took Zuko’s hand.  It was small and warm.  “Most of them saw you already, and the rest were informed by either the chief or Bato.”

              “…Fine,” Zuko grumbled.  Kustaa led him out onto the deck.  The moment eyes landed on him, Zuko dropped Kustaa’s hand to hide behind his legs.

              “Wow, you’re barely older than the babes we left at the South Pole,” Panuk remarked.  Zuko didn’t move or speak.

              “I think he’s adorable,” Toklo said firmly, marching over.  He crouched down to Zuko’s eye-height.  “I always wanted a baby brother.”

              “I’m not a baby,” Zuko snapped.  At his high-pitched, youthful voice, Toklo beamed.  “I’m sixteen.”

              “Four,” Kustaa corrected.  Zuko scowled.

              “Either way, that’s not a baby.”

              “Aw, no need to pout,” Toklo cooed.  Zuko’s scowl deepened.  “It’ll be fun having a little kid on board.”

              “Will it?” rumbled Aake.  “We only let men join the crew for a reason.”  Zuko let out a small squeak as Toklo lifted him up and held him out for Aake to see.

              “Try saying ‘no’ to this face,” Toklo said.  Aake’s deadpan expression didn’t change.

              “No.”

              “Were you saying ‘no’ to Zuko or ‘no’ to saying ‘no’ to him?” Toklo asked. Aake shrugged and continued to sharpen his spear.  Zuko squirmed in Toklo’s hold.

              “Let me go!” he snarled.  He broke loose, falling to the deck with a soft thump.  Kustaa waited for the tears that would come from a toddler being dropped. But Zuko didn’t cry.  His eyes were glistening in a way that suggested he was holding back tears, but he remained otherwise stoic.  Kustaa filed this observation away for now.  He walked over to Zuko and pulled him up.

              “The chief needs to talk to you, remember?” he said.  Zuko nodded silently, allowing Kustaa to lead him to Hakoda’s cabin.

----- 

              The moment they set foot inside the cabin, Kustaa could tell Hakoda was going to struggle with not seeing Sokka every time he looked at Zuko.  At least Bato was there to help mediate things.

              “Take a seat,” Hakoda said.  Zuko toddled over to the chair he normally sat in.  After a moment, he climbed onto the seat with obvious difficulty.  Bato stifled a laugh.  “Zuko, we’re not sure why the spirits have done this to you.”

              “Probably because they hate me,” Zuko muttered, crossing his arms.

              “Well, no matter why you’ve been turned into a toddler, the fact of the matter is that it has happened to you.  Generally, we don’t allow children your age to be on our ships.”  Zuko paled and opened his mouth to make his case. Hakoda held up a hand.  “Given your…extenuating circumstances, we won’t be dropping you off at the next port or something like that.  Who knows, maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow sixteen again. Until we have a better understanding of your condition, including how long it might last, you’ll be staying on the Akhlut.  Do you understand?”

              “Yes,” Zuko said with a nod, visibly relieved.

              “Good.  Now, just because you’ll still be on board, don’t expect things to stay the same for you. You won’t be required to do any chores on the ship.  If you want to help, you can, but the crew has been instructed to stop you from overexerting yourself or doing something that might hurt you at your current age.” Zuko’s eyes boggled.  “Additionally, you’ll be sleeping in the infirmary with Kustaa for the foreseeable future.  It will be more comfortable for you.”

              “Understood,” Zuko mumbled.

              “Another change is that you will be expected to do what a child your age must in order to remain healthy,” Hakoda said.  Zuko tilted his head curiously.  “In particular, you will have to take naps.”

              “What?!” Zuko shrieked.

              “We can’t have a cranky, overtired firebender on our wooden ship,” Bato said.  Zuko crossed his arms, scowling.

              “Those are the major changes.  We will adjust things as we see fit,” Hakoda said.

              “Okay.”  Zuko fidgeted in his seat, an abrupt reminder to the men in the room of how hyperactive toddlers were.  “Um, about my clothes…”

              “Go see Panuk and Toklo.  They offered to try to cobble together something for you until we can make port,” Hakoda said.  Zuko ducked his head.

              “Thank you.”  He slipped off his chair and left the cabin, his head held high in an attempt to maintain any dignity.  Once the door closed, Kustaa looked at Hakoda and Bato.

              “He’s not going to act like a toddler if he can avoid it,” Kustaa said. “He’s almost certainly going to resist the reduced workload and naps.”  Hakoda nodded.

              “I agree,” he said solemnly.

              “This won’t end well,” Bato said, shaking his head.  “There’s a reason we wouldn’t normally have someone his age on board.”  There was a loud ruckus from the deck; clattering, heavy footsteps, and Toklo’s voice.

              “Come on, Zuko, it’ll look so cute!”

              “That,” Bato said, “is the reason.”

-----

              Hakoda begrudgingly agreed with Toklo’s assessment.  Zuko was cuter than he had any right looking, walking around the ship with a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape.  According to Toklo, Zuko had begun shivering while he and Panuk were working on finding something for the new toddler to wear. Toddlers tended to get cold easier, and Hakoda supposed that being a firebender might make Zuko more vulnerable to cold as is.

              “Are you hungry yet, little prince?” Panuk asked.  Zuko looked up from his fumbling attempts at making a net.

              “Don’t call me that,” he snarled.  Panuk patted Zuko’s bald head.

              “All right.  You hungry yet, Zuko?” he asked.  Zuko’s stomach rumbled loudly.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”  Panuk got up. “Come on.  Let’s fill you up with sea prunes.”  Zuko got to his feet and eagerly followed Panuk.  Hakoda watched Zuko toddle across the deck and to the kitchen.

              “You’re getting soft, Chief, I can tell,” Aake, standing nearby, said quietly. Hakoda looked at him.  Aake sighed.  “But I’m getting soft, too.  We left when Sitka was about that age.”  A weary and wistful expression settled on Aake’s face.  “I miss my son.”

              “I miss mine as well,” Hakoda said quietly.  Suddenly, Zuko burst onto the deck, his arms full of sea prunes, running from Panuk.

              “Hey!  You don’t get all of them!” Panuk protested, coming onto the deck as well.  Zuko merely sped up.  Hakoda and Aake’s eyes widened as they realized the former Fire Nation Prince was giggling as Panuk chased him.  Zuko’s lighthearted, childish peals of laughter filled the air. He rushed belowdeck, his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.  Panuk followed.  A silence fell.  After a moment, Tuluk, who was swabbing the deck, spoke.

              “Well, that was adorable.”

----- 

              Hakoda expected Zuko to hide belowdeck, embarrassed by behaving like a toddler.  But Zuko returned to the deck after a while, seemingly unaware of how childish he had acted. He walked up to various crewmen in an attempt to do some of his old chores.  Each time, he was turned away.  His regular scowl settled on his face, chubby with baby fat.

              “Can’t do anything,” Zuko muttered as he stalked around the deck, his blanket trailing behind him.  He finally sat down next to the mast, pouting.

              “It’s good that you can’t do anything,” Hakoda said, walking over. Zuko looked up.  “Leaving a task in the middle of doing it doesn’t usually produce good results.”

              “Why would I not complete a task?” Zuko asked.  He crossed his arms.  “I’m not really a child, I can focus.”

              “You’d need to take a break for your nap,” Hakoda informed him.  Zuko’s eyes widened.  “I saw you yawning just now.  You’re tired.”

              “No, I’m not!” Zuko said, jumping to his feet.  He shed his blanket cape.  “I won’t nap.”

              “You agreed to take naps.”

              “Only if I needed them.  I don’t. I’m not tired.”  Zuko’s argument sounded eerily like those Sokka made as a child.

              “There’s nothing for you to do anyways,” Hakoda pointed out.  He reached for Zuko’s hand.  Zuko darted away before he could be grabbed.  Unfortunately for his millionth escape attempt, Aake was nearby. Aake picked Zuko up as he ran past.

              “Let me go!” Zuko said, twisting in Aake’s grip.  “Let me go!”  A breath of flame escaped from his mouth.  He suddenly stilled.  Aake handed him over to Hakoda.  Zuko didn’t make a peep as Hakoda carried him across the deck and into the infirmary. Kustaa looked up from the book he was reading.

              “Is it time for my nephew’s nap?” he asked.  Hakoda nodded and set Zuko down.

              “Sleep,” he said firmly to Zuko.  “That’s an order.”  Zuko nodded, visibly cowed.

              “Yes, chief,” he mumbled.  Hakoda turned to leave.  “Sir, I apologize for firebending earlier,” Zuko said suddenly.  Hakoda looked over his shoulder at the toddler.

              “You firebending on accident wouldn’t have anything to do with agreeing to nap, would it?” he asked.

              “Uncle says that sleep works in concert with meditation to control your inner fire.  Children who are too young to know how to meditate only avoid burning down their house by taking…naps.”  Zuko scowled slightly.  “That’s the excuse he gives for being so lazy.”  Kustaa chuckled softly.

              “Judging by what happened on deck, your uncle might be right,” Hakoda said, feigning a casual tone.  Zuko nodded. “Sleep well, Zuko.”

              Hakoda poked his head into the infirmary after he had checked on the rest of the crewmen.  Some of the crew felt Zuko’s current size was an improvement.  Hakoda could see where they were coming from.  Zuko was yet again buried in a pile of furs, his minute arms wrapped around Scuttles.

              “He went down almost right after you left, chief,” Kustaa said quietly.  “I didn’t even need to make him any tea.”

              “Hopefully he won’t argue against naps in the future.”  Hakoda continued to watch Zuko sleep.  The toddler let out a soft snore.  “It’s foolish to expect that he’ll ask for a nap, though.”  Kustaa nodded.

              “I would agree with that.”  Zuko rolled over in his sleep with another snore.

              “Let me know if anything happens,” Hakoda said.

              “Of course,” Kustaa said.  He picked up another book, opened it, and began to read.  Hakoda left the infirmary, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.

[favefandomimagines]

Knight in Shining Armor (g.w.)

Summary: the three times george saved you and the one time you saved him

AN: mentions of death and injury obvs if you know where this is going

It was no secret to anyone that you and George had shared feelings for each other. Except it was a secret to the two of you. The stolen glances, the touches that lasted longer than they should have, the very obvious flirting. 

Though the two of you were completely oblivious. 

It was your fifth year at Hogwarts, Quidditch season being in full swing. You were a Chaser for the Gryffindor team and a damn good one at that. 

You were currently sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast, sitting between Alicia and Angelina. “Are you ready for the game today?” Alicia asked you. “She’s always ready. She’s our prized possession.” George interjected, him and Fred sitting across from the three of you. 

“Aside from our Seeker, Georgie.” Fred added. “I guess Harry too.” George said. The younger twin sent you a wink as you tried to cover the redness on your face. 

Angelina and Alicia nudged you, knocking you out of your bashful state. “Are you two ready for the game?” You asked. “Of course! We’re going to crush them.” George answered. “Cocky isn’t a good look on you.” You teased. “It’s not cocky, love. It’s confidence.” George replied. 

The game against Slytherin wasn’t going according to plan. You knew Slytherin played dirty but during this game, it was worse than usual. Every time you got the Quaffle in your hand, another Chaser came out of nowhere to try to knock it out of your hands. 

Usually you could get away from them quick enough but you were currently sandwiched between two Slytherin Chasers and they were trying to force the Quaffle from your hands. 

One of them seemed to give up his pursuit until he slammed into the side of you, causing you to lose your balance and fall off your broom. You fell to the grass below and the world around you went dark. 

You woke up seemingly a few hours later since it was dark outside and you seemed to be in the infirmary. Trying to sit up, a pounding headache stopping you from doing so. 

“Whoa, easy there, Y/N.” A voice stopped you. You looked to your right and saw George, Fred and the rest of your friends standing around you. “What happened?” You asked them. 

“Slytherin Chaser knocked you off your broom. Thankfully you only have a concussion. It would have been much worse if George hadn’t stopped him.” Hermione explained. 

You looked at George for some sort of a confirmation of his actions. “Definitely worth the five points we lost.” He said. “George sent him into one of the towers. He’s in way worse shape than you.” Fred added. 

“Thanks, Georgie. For defending my honor.” You joked lightly. “For you, darling, always.” He replied. 

__

The Quidditch World Cup was something you looked forward to every year. Your parents were wealthy pure bloods and you got to go the World Cup every time. 

This year, you got invited to go with the Weasley’s and you couldn’t pass up that opportunity. Your parents were okay with the idea because they trusted Arthur Weasley to no end. 

You had arrived at your tent with the Weasley’s, plus Harry and Hermione, and were blown away with the set up. “Girls, pick a bunk and unpack.” Arthur instructed you, Ginny and Hermione. 

“This is incredible.” You commented with a large smile on your face. “A change of pace from the fanciness you’re used to, aye Y/N?” Fred said. “It’s so much better.” You replied. 

“Why? Because you’re away from the parents?” George asked. “No, because I’m with you.” You corrected. A red tint crept its way up George’s neck and painted his cheeks at your comment. Causing Fred to laugh at how flustered you made his brother. 

“Besides, I need someone to cheer on Ireland with me. My parents love Bulgaria.” You added, sending him a wink. 

Before game time, you all were walking up the stairs to your designated section, George helping you up the steep stairs because you were so incredibly clumsy. 

Even when you got to your section, he wouldn’t let go of your hand. Once the game was finished, you were all back at the tent. The boys were all hyped up about the game and you were just laughing at the craziness of the four. 

You were standing by watching when George grabbed your hand and spun you around. He then wrapped an arm around your waist and dipped you back, causing you to laugh. “How does it feel losing to Krum?” He joked. 

“It was all luck.” You answered. George laughed at you as the two of stared intently at each other. When Arthur stopped the celebration, he mentally cursed him in his head. 

It all happened so quick, it was hard to comprehend what was going on. You were ushered out of the tent by Arthur and your jaw dropped seeing the chaos ensue. 

“Oh my,” You started before George grabbed your hand. “Y/N, we gotta go.” He told you. “Wait, where’s Harry?” You questioned. “I don’t know, but we have to get out of here.” He said. 

He had a tight grip on your hand but the amount of people pushing past you made it hard for you to keep holding on. You felt his hand slip out of yours as you got pushed to the ground by some bystander. 

You tried to get up but the people running and fleeing the scene made it difficult too. 

“I lost Y/N.” George told his twin and Ginny. “What?!” Ginny exclaimed. “I have to go find her.” He said. “George wait!” Arthur called as his son ran back in the direction of the tents. 

You finally were able to stand as you looked around you, hoping to spot a familiar head of red hair. You were looking around when you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

A scream left your mouth as you turned around quickly to see George standing there. “Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, hands cupping your face as he looked at you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” You answered before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“We have to get out of here, okay?” George said to you. You nodded your head and he took your and and pulled you away from the scene. 

If the Death Eaters were truly still there, they knew who your parents were. They were members of the Order and worked at the Ministry, besides Harry, you’d be a prime target. 

Once you were far away enough, George wrapped his arms tightly around you, afraid to let go. 

“Thank Merlin you’re okay.” He whispered. “I’m okay thanks to you, Georgie.” You whispered back.

—

Your final year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the best year yet. You were made Quidditch captain of the Gryffindor team, you had a good feeling you were going to pass all of your exams and you had the best group of friends.

But what was supposed to be the best year turned into the worst year. Umbridge had basically taken over Hogwarts. Your parents never had a nice word to say about that woman.

You were starting to see why. She banned Quidditch and all other student activities and you were devastated. Which caused you to act out more than normal.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was usually your favorite class when she wasn’t teaching it. She was going on and on about different scenarios where we’d use certain spells. Never once actually letting your class practice said spells.

As she explained yet another spell with no demonstration, you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Is there a problem Ms. Y/L/N?” She asked you. George turned around to look at you, shaking his head to tell you it wasn’t worth it. But that never stopped you.

“Would it be possible to actually practice the spell?” You asked. “There’s no need for that, dear.” She said in a sickeningly sweet tone. “I respectfully disagree with you, professor. You are aware my parents work at the Ministry. I believe they are of higher rank than yourself and they have reason to believe that Voldemort is back and I think we should be able to defend ourselves. So yes, professor, there is a need for that.” You said, your voice surprisingly confident and calm.

The class fell into various hushed whispers as students talked quietly amongst themselves. George looked at you with a mixture of utterly proud and terrified for your well being.

“Detention after class, Ms. Y/L/N. And your parents will be hearing about this.” Umbridge told you.

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your chair as she continued on with her lesson.

After class, you arrived at the woman’s office and stepped inside. The amount of pink on the walls was enough to make anyone cringe. That and the various cat plates.

“Please sit, Ms. Y/L/N.” She instructed you. You sat in the desk across from hers and noticed the piece of parchment and the quill next to it.

“You will be doing lines for me today. You will right ‘I will not be disrespectful.” She said. “How many times?” You asked. “Until you feel the message sinks in.” She answered. “I’m going to need some ink for this.” You said. “That’s a very special quill, dear. You won’t need ink.” Umbridge told you.

You picked the quill up and began writing the sentence and soon a dull stinging presented itself on your other hand.

As you kept writing it only got worse. You looked at the top of your hand and noticed the words you were writing were being written into your skin.

You dropped the quill and clutched your hand, seeing the words already starting to scar.

“I think the message was well received. You may go.” Umbridge told you. You quickly picked up your bag and exited the office.

You didn’t think you could run so fast as you sprinted towards the common room. Your trek was cut short when you ran into someone.

“Whoa there, Y/N, are you in a hurry?” Fred joked. “Uh, yeah, you can say that.” You said quietly, not making eye contact with the twins. “What’s wrong?” George asked. “Nothing. I was just on my way to the common room.” You lied.

“Then why are you holding your hand?” Fred questioned. The twins have known you since first year. They could easily see through your lies no matter how convincing they seemed to others.

You pulled up the sleeve of your robe and showed them the top of your hand. “Umbridge did this, didn’t she?” George asked. You nodded your head though you knew they didn’t need any confirmation.

The matching scars on their hands was proof enough.

“I’m going to kill her.” George sneered marching towards Umbridge’s office. “George, don’t. She’s not worth it.” You rebutted. “She hurt you, Y/N. That’s more than worth it.” He said.

“I think what she’s trying to say, mate, is that you’ll get more than just a detention.” Fred interjected. “Please don’t do anything. We will handle her later.” You said to him.

George looked down at you for a moment before groaning. “I hate it when you’re right. Especially when Fred’s right.” He said.

You smiled at him before looping your arm through his.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked as the three of you walked back to the common room. “Just you being here is enough.” You answered.

Fred inwardly groaned at the obliviousness the two of you had. He then made it his life’s mission to get the two of you together.

—

Nothing really made sense anymore. Not after the war. Of course you came out victorious but not without paying a price. A price you’d rather pay with your life than anyone else’s.

Everything happened so quickly. You had lost sight of Fred and George halfway through and the next thing you knew, Ginny was pulling you through the Great Hall.

You made eye contact with George and you knew the second you looked at him something was wrong.

“No,” You muttered as he walked towards you. “No, no, no. Tell me that’s not him.” You cried. “He’s fine, Fred’s fine.” You added. George shook his head as he pulled you into him. He tried to shield you from seeing your best friend’s body but it was no use.

Fred was gone. He was gone and you never got to say goodbye to him.

It had been eight months since the war and everyone was slowly starting to get back to normal. Or whatever the new normal was.

You and Ron got the twins’ joke shop back up and running. George still wasn’t able to step foot in the building, staying at your flat since that day.

“Mum keeps asking how George is. I have to tell her he’s fine and just getting back on his feet.” Ron told you. “You can’t lie to your mother like that, Ron.” You replied.

“Maybe you can convince him to come visit the Burrow. He listens to you more than anyone.” He said. “I don’t think he’ll listen to me this time.” You said. “He loves you, Y/N. He might’ve been too daft to say it in school but he really loves you.” Ron admitted.

You were quiet for a moment before nodding your head and apparating back to your apartment.

The living room was dark but there was a blanket on the couch, signaling that George left his room.

“Georgie?” You called. “In here.” You heard, which was a good sign. Usually he never replied when you called his name.

You opened the bedroom door and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed with a picture frame in his hands. It was a picture of the three of you the day the shop opened.

George had his arms wrapped tightly around you as Fred hugged the both of you.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting next to him. “My brother died, how do you think I’m feeling?” He snapped at you. He saw you noticeably tense at his harsh tone and he instantly felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to snap like that.” He added. “It’s okay.” You said quietly. “It’s not okay because you’ve been nothing short of incredible taking care of me, making sure I’m eating, reopening the shop for me. I really don’t deserve you.” George said.

You took his hand in yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I do it because,” You started, thinking about Ron’s words. “I do it because I love you, George. And I hate seeing the person I love so broken and I know I can never fill the void that’s left, there’s a pretty big one for me too but I’m hoping I can help.” You finished.

Your gaze remained fixated on your hand in his, afraid of what his response would be.

“You love me?” He questioned quietly. “Yeah, yeah I do.” You replied. “I’ve loved you since third year. Fred kept trying to get me to tell you but I was too scared you’d reject me.” George explained. 

“I would never reject you, George.” You said. “You saved me too many times to count. Now it’s time for me to save you.” You added. George nodded his head as he looked at you and you could see the tears pooling in his eyes. 

You pulled him into you, his head near your chest, as you just let him cry. The only sound that calmed him was the sound of your heartbeat and the knowing that you were his. 

[lexosaurus]

I Love You

My fic for day 5 of DP Side Hoes Week (yes I’m a day behind). 

Character: Jazz Theme: Hospital

This oneshot exists within my Everything Was White fic series [ao3]. You do NOT have to be following Everything Was White to understand this fic, this one exists as a prequel in the timeline and I give enough context in the text for anyone to be able to understand it. 

Okay, enjoy!

---

Jazz sat on the armchair, her gaze blank. Hazy. She hadn’t moved since she sat down some time ago. Time moved without reason, and she wasn’t sure how long it had been. Her back hurt and her lips were chapped, but she hardly noticed her discomfort.

The only thing that mattered was the person laying on the bed before her.

The person she hardly recognized.

Four weeks. That’s how long he had been missing from their lives, that’s how long the Guys in White had him. Twenty-eight days on the dot.

She could never forget his eyes as he was dragged out the door. They were wild, desperately staring down their parents who were both pinned down by government agents with guns trained to their heads. He screamed, struggling against his captures. 

But it wasn’t enough. 

Because in the end, he was thrown in the back of a white van. All while Jazz stood on the stairs doing nothing. 

She should have freed him. She could have helped. But she was too weak. 

Too weak.

Her eyes stung, and she wanted to cry. Break down. Sob. But she had already used up her stock of tears hours ago, when she finally saw him for the first time since he’d be transferred out of critical care.

He was frail, tiny. Nothing but skin and bones. His body was scarred, torn, encased in gauze and casts. Doctors fluttered about, talking in hushed tones as they analyzed her brother’s body. They tried not to show it, but Jazz knew they were baffled by him.

There was talk about his injuries. He hadn’t woken up yet, at least not completely, but Jazz was already told of the more...drastic injuries.

The Y scar on his chest.

The paralysis.

The starvation.

No one knew what the permanent effects were going to be. No one knew how he was going to fair once he woke up. But there was one thing they all knew for certain, a truth that none of the Fentons had said out loud yet: 

Danny was not going to be the same anymore.

She crumbled, allowing her head to fall into her hands. Apparently, she still had more tears to give. A sob tore its way from her throat, pulling with it a wave of emotions that Jazz had just spent the last few hours desperately trying to repress.

She was tired. So, so tired. And yet, this nightmare refused to end.

“Danny, I—I’m so sorry.” Jazz’s voice was raw. The naked truth was hanging right there in front of her, the consequences of her complete failure. 

She should have been there for him during the ghost fight. The one between him and Skulker that ultimately led to his revelation right there high in the skies in front of the entire town. She could have helped him.

She should have known the Guys in White would then come surround their house and take him.

She should have tried harder to find him and break him out of the government compound. They tried so hard, but they couldn’t find the stupid building.

She should have practiced her questions better in court. Maybe then the jury would have decided sooner. She could have gotten him released before he was hurt so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond.

“I love you so much, Danny. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond.

---

“You alright there, son?” Jack asked. He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

It didn’t seem to matter. Jazz doubted Danny even heard their father’s question. She was honestly questioning if he even realized they were in the room.

His eyes wandered around the room as if he were still trying to take in the walls of the hospital. He woke up four days ago, and yet every day had been the same blank wandering gaze. 

Jazz hoped it was just the pain medication the hospital was giving him. She desperately clung onto the belief that her brother would snap out of it one day and would come home and he would be back to normal.

Back to how he was before.

“Your mother and I are going to meet with the surgeon.” Jack put an arm around Maddie, pulling her into his side. 

Her face was white, streaked with red as if she’d been crying recently, and the bags under her eyes had never been so pronounced. But Jazz couldn’t blame her. After all, she probably looked more or less the same.

“Stay with Danny, alright? We’ll come grab you after.”

“Sure, Dad,” Jazz said, putting on a smile she hoped was comforting.

Her mother muttered something that Jazz didn’t catch, and then both parents were gone. 

And Jazz was alone. With Danny.

Again.

She turned back to face him. The doctors had said that he’d sustained significant brain damage, and they weren’t sure yet how much communication he would be able to do. He was too drugged up still, too out of it. 

He couldn’t speak, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t understand her.

Or maybe that was her hopeful side talking again. She shouldn’t get her hopes up. She would only be hurt in the end.

“Hey, Danny,” Jazz tried. Her voice was thin. Dry. She tried to wet her lips and spoke again. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re comfortable. If you were wondering, you broke your spine. I mean, I’m sure you already knew that but—” Her voice cracked. “—you know. That’s why you, um, might be uncomfortable right now. It’s the brace.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at her.

Just continued staring at the ceiling.

Jazz wondered if anything was going through his mind. If he had any questions. She would if she were Danny. 

She tried to imagine the sort of things he would say. His voice, crackling through the throes of puberty, as he poked fun at her in that annoying way only a brother could accomplish. She tried to envision a world where he could still do that.

And she tried not to think about the fact that there was a good chance that she’d never hear his voice again.

“Your SCI was incomplete, you know. So there’s still a chance…” Jazz shook her head. 

There she was getting hopeful again. 

“Everyone really missed you, Danny. I—I really missed you.”

He blinked slowly. In her imagination, Jazz heard him say “I missed you too.”

“I love you.”

He didn’t respond.

---

“What band are we in the mood for today?” Jazz asked, scrolling through her playlist.

Danny was starting to come to. He seemed to be able to hold eye contact, albeit not for very long, and his minute facial expressions showed at least some understanding of what was happening around him.

Although, he still hadn’t spoken yet.

Jazz glanced brightly down at him. Now that she knew he was conscious of her presence, she couldn’t afford to show up at the hospital in sweats with her tear-stained face anymore. She had to be there for him. She had to be strong.

Maybe she had been too weak to help him before. Maybe back then, she had failed him.

But she would be damned if she wasn’t strong enough to help him now.

“What do you think? MCR? Blink-182?” she asked. “I got these band names from Sam, by the way. So if she lied to me about what music you listen to now, don’t blame me.”

Danny just stared at her with his owl-ish expression.

“Here, if you want, you can choose.” Jazz held her phone screen out in front of him, watching as his eyebrows scrunched up ever so slightly as he gazed up at the screen.

Jazz felt her smile falter for a split second before she pulled her phone away and straightened herself up on her chair.

She had to be strong.

“It’s okay, I’ll just choose one.” She tapped the screen and set her phone down. 

The sound of over-compressed guitars filled the tiny bluetooth speaker on the windowsill, and Jazz beamed down at Danny, waiting for that tiny flicker of recognition to hit his face.

And, to her delight, some of the fog in his eyes momentarily lifted. He looked over to Jazz as if he were seeing her for the first time, the shock and disbelief seeping through the blank slate that was his expression.

Jazz was hardly able to keep the glee out of her voice. “You like it?”

His eyes flickered between Jazz and the bluetooth speaker. Back and forth again before settling back on the ceiling.

“Well, I’ll have to thank Sam for the recommendation later! She can’t wait to see you, you know. The doctors are only allowing family in your room right now, but maybe next week if you’re feeling up to it, Sam and Tucker can stop by. I don’t want to make any promises right now, but you never know.”

Danny’s eyes slowly traveled around the ceiling.

“Are you thirsty?” Jazz asked. “Hungry? Well, you’re probably not hungry. Doctors have been monitoring your nutrient intake a lot. I’m glad, too, because you have some color in your face again.”

His eyes shut, and a content smile twitched on his face.

Jazz couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so peaceful.

“I love you, Danny.”

He didn’t respond. 

---

Danny was home now. That should have been a good thing. 

It should have been.

And it was. In so many ways, it was wonderful having him home again.

But in so many other ways, it wasn’t.

Jazz had been under some illusion that once he made it home, things would go back to normal. Sure, he would be in a wheelchair until his PT started, and he might not be able to turn into a ghost for a few weeks either, but her brother would be home. 

Except, Danny never came home. Physically, he did. But mentally he was still trapped somewhere far away.

He was talking now at least. He’d started talking the week before he’d left the hospital. He wasn’t able to speak in full sentences, at least not without pausing, and he wasn’t able to really understand long sentences either, but this was a start.

Jazz wanted to hope that things would get better, but hope was a dangerous drug.

After all, even though he’d started speaking again, he still refused to talk about what happened to him. Anytime Jazz would try to bring the conversation up, he’d clam up and close off for the rest of the day.

And that hurt. It hurt so bad. She so desperately wanted to be there and support him, to help him talk through the trauma he’d experienced, but he just didn’t want to.

But that was okay. It had to be okay. She had to be strong.

She stood in front of his door, pausing only to compose herself before knocking.

He didn’t acknowledge her knock, but Jazz wasn’t expecting him too. He was trying to isolate himself, and Jazz wasn’t going to let him.

She’d already failed him once. 

“Good morning, Danny!” Jazz bursted into the room, her voice chipper despite the fact that she hadn’t slept last night.

She doubted that Danny did either.

Danny was lying on top of his comforter, already dressed. Their mom must have gotten him situated before shutting herself down in the lab.

Their parents seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

“Come on, get up. I come bearing an activity!”

“Too early,” Danny grumbled.

Jazz ignored him, sauntering into the room brandishing a large, easy piece jigsaw puzzle she’d just ran out to buy that morning.

It was hard to find one for kids that wasn’t either a princess castle or a race car scene. Fortunately, the store had one on sale that had colorful, cartoon baby ghosts covering the image.

“Either you get up, or I drag you up. Either way, you’re doing this puzzle with me.”

“Puzzle?” Danny asked.

Jazz tried not to stare as he struggled upright, only swooping in to set his pillows upright behind him. “Yeah, puzzle.”

She set the box down in front of him, pulling off the lid and revealing the large pieces in front of him.

“That’s...so Boring.”

“Well, the doctors still want you avoiding screens for a little while longer. I figured this was better than staring at the wall.”

Danny eyed the box, his face impassive. 

“Here, wait.” She went out into the hallway, grabbing a large piece of cardboard from the wall. “I brought something to make the puzzle on. Figured it would be easier than the mattress.”

“Okay.” He picked up one of the pieces, inspecting it slowly as if he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“So…” Jazz plopped herself down on the mattress next to Danny and put the cardboard over their laps. “What do you think we should do first?”

Danny gazed blankly down, his eyes trailing between the cardboard and the puzzle piece in his hand. He blinked, and then put the puzzle piece down on the cardboard.

“Okay, we can start with that one!” Jazz chirped.

“No…” Danny ran his hand through his hair. “No that’s not...need to sort.”

“Oh?” Jazz grabbed another piece from the box. “So what should I do with this one then?”

Danny gazed quizzically over at Jazz, grabbing the piece to inspect it. “Edge,” he finally said, setting the piece down on the opposite side of the board from the first piece.

“So we’re sorting the edge pieces from the regular pieces?” 

Danny hummed, grabbing another piece from the box.

“Sounds like a good plan!”

They worked together in near silence after that, Jazz only stopping every so often when she could feel Danny’s attention slipping to ask him to help her sort a piece. It was almost cute how determined he was to complete the task correctly. It almost reminded Jazz of the quiet determination that would slip onto his features in the moments just before he transformed into Phantom. 

Solving the puzzle was a whole different beast. If Jazz were honest, she wasn’t sure if they would have been able to finish in one sitting. Danny still tired far too rapidly throughout the day, and he still slept for more hours than he was awake.

But finally Danny snapped the last piece into place, completing their simple blob ghost picture.

“Nice job!” Jazz put her hand up for a high five.

Danny blinked, slowly processing the motion, before his brain caught up and he gave a little smirk, a tiny eye roll, but met Jazz’s hand all the same.

She put the cardboard with the now completed puzzle on the floor before sitting back against the fluffy pillows. Breathing out, she allowed herself to sink back into the cushions for just a moment.

She was so tired. 

Her brain swirled, and she wanted to sink deeper into the darkness. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t allowed to.

“Are you asleep?” Danny asked.

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

A quiet trepidation settled over the pair. Jazz could feel the unspoken questions hanging in the air like forbidden fruit ripe for picking. But the apples were just out of reach, and she knew the branches wouldn’t sink lower until Danny was ready. 

But he had to come home first. He would never be ready to tell her what happened until he finally came back to them. And Jazz didn’t know how long that would take.

“I love you,” Jazz said.

Danny didn’t respond.

---

Thanks for reading!

[tlou-1]

Joel Miller x Reader (Home) Chapter 21

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13| Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 

Chapter 21 - Joel is in a really bad way, you and Ellie await to see how and if he will recover

Contains | SMUT and a minor glimpse/reference to PTSD

A couple of days pass and you still had’t left the surgery, you had barely left the chair sat across from Joel’s bed. He still hadn’t gained consciousness, from the beating, the drugs, the stitches. On the second night Molly brought you a change of clothes and suggested you head home for some sleep and to check on Patrick. 

“I left Patrick with you for a reason Molly. I am not going anywhere until I know he is okay” you said shortly to her nodding your head towards Joel. You would be no use to Patrick like this and what child should have to see his parents like this at such a young age, you trusted Molly to look after him for a couple days.

“Fine but at least change your clothes, your jeans are soaked in blood.” She sighed pointing at the pile she had set out for you. For the first time you looked and felt the clothes you were wearing, the dried, crusted blood on your knees creating a smell of iron which filled your nose with nausea. You washed and changed like she asked but after sat right back into the same seat. 

A couple hours when dusk had set in Ellie appeared at the door, neither of you seemed to know what to say to the other. Nothing would make this better, the only person that could was lying in the bed next you both unable to do so. Ellie pulled up a chair next to you and you took her hand, she clenched it tightly. You both fell asleep together on those chairs that third night. 

In the morning, Ellie brought you both two mugs of coffee, “I hate the stuff to be honest but I love the smell.” She sighs. 

You smile slightly at her, “I know exactly what you mean”, neither of you could smell the stuff without thinking of Joel. 

You reach your hand out to Joel’s and squeeze it. Ellie props herself at the foot of the bed as you feel something brush across the top of your hand. You look down to see Joel’s thumb stroking the back of your hand slowly.

“Ellie” you whisper gesturing her to look down at the movement. 

“Joel can you hear me? I am here, Ellie is here too” You call to him. 

“Oh I can hear you darlin, I’d know those two voice anywhere” he says quietly and horsely. He sounded rough but even hearing him call you darlin, well there wasn’t many words that could describe the sense of relief. 

You press your forehead to Joel’s hand which you were holding and let out a deep breath which became a small cry. 

“I thought” you start but you couldn’t finish that sentence. 

“That I would leave the two of you and Patrick? Not today anyway but I see you are already into my coffee stash” he says taking his time with each word, it was difficult to talk and his laugh barely made it past his lips. Neither you or Ellie laughed, it was clear he was trying to lighten your spirits. Joel could barely see out his swollen eye but he could still see and feel the look on your faces, he grips your hand tighter. 

“Joel I’m so sorry” Ellie begins to cry, really cry with her eyes and nose leaking its like she can barely catch a breath. You want to reach out for her but Joel is already there, putting his hand out to her hush her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear. Nothing” He says sternly pulling Ellie’s conscious back into the room. You all sit together a few moments before Joel asks Ellie if he can have a moment with you. “I’ll just go clean our mugs” she suggested offering to take the empty mug from your hand.

There is such a long silence once Ellie leaves, you were about to say something when -

“What on earth were you thinking?” He whispers angrily at you. 

“What? What was I thinking? Are you really asking that now?” You repeat his words defensively. 

“What about the baby, did you think about that? Or Patrick?”.

“What about thank you for saving me Y/N? I don’t know where I would be without you Y/N? Hmm?” Your voice gets a little louder and you continue.

“All I could think when I saw you, like that was that my husband and father of my child was about to get beaten to death in front of me and our daughter. I was not - I wasn’t going to let that happen. You said you wouldn’t leave, you made that promise, I was keeping it.” Your voice shaking as you spoke.

Again Joel says nothing for a bit before a quiet “Thank you Y/N” escapes his lips, he is clearly still frustrated.

“And the baby?” He asks. 

“Joel we haven’t even been to the doctor to confirm if I am pregnant, I am probably too old for it, just because I am late doesn’t mean-“ but he interrupts.

“When in the four years that I have been with you have you been late?” He asked bluntly, the answer was never but you just had a feeling he wasn’t right this time. He was mad, of course he was mad but how you make a ‘rational’ decision in that kind of situation. Maybe the grenade was a dud, maybe it wasn’t, maybe you might have died, maybe you wouldn’t, maybe you were pregnant, maybe you weren’t. The only thing that was certain was Joel was going to die if you didn’t do something, so you did the first thing that came to mind. It seemed hard for him to understand that, maybe he thinks his life isn’t worth that much, ‘what an idiot’ you thought when so many people loved and depended on him. 

“What would you have done if it was me? If you saw me beaten half to death in front of you, would you leave me there?” You asked, he was silent again and you both knew he would never have walked away. Ellie joins you both again “Everything okay?” She asks.

“Yeah we are good kiddo” Joel reassures her with a soft smile. He grimaces slightly, clearly the painkillers beginning to wear off. After Doctor Henry has a good assessment of Joel she explains it’s going to be a couple weeks for a full recovery, “I ain’t staying here for a couple weeks. I want to be in my own house” Joel insists. You pull Doctor Henry aside as you prepare to move Joel home and explain your own situation, “If you let me take a couple samples, I will run some tests and should be able to tell you in a week or so” she smiles. 

Joel spends the next week in your bed at home. By the second week he is beginning to get back on his feet for short periods of time, he manages to walk downstairs and joins you and Patrick to watch a film “What we got tonight?” He asks pulling you into his arms, you let out a large sigh and sink into him. “Patrick picked Monsters Inc again” you point to Patrick who has moved off the sofa to a spot right in front of the TV wanting to be as close as possible. “I’m not pregnant Joel” you whispered so only he could hear, you couldn’t see his face but he squeezed you shoulders tighter and pressed a firm kiss on the crown of your head, “Are you okay?” He asks, you nod your head. You really were okay, “I am. I am really happy with my family. I don’t need anything more than I already have”. You both go back to watching the film and don’t talk about it again. 

That night in bed, Joel turns to you and wraps his arms around the back of you, you feel his hands trail under the shirt you were wearing. “Joel” you groan slightly and press your back into him further, you can feel him stiff against your ass, “Mhm?” He purrs against your ear, “You are still recovering” you state, he wasn’t really in a fit state yet. “I am” he nods and his hands further higher up your top, cupping your breasts. You turn to meet him and press a kiss on his lips before breaking away and venture towards the end of the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asks trying to sit up, you push him back down and begins to pull his underwear away. You lower your head and trail your tongue along his shaft from the bottom to the tip, he let out a hiss as you took him entirely in your mouth. Working away at him with your mouth and hands you feel him tense as he moaned “oh Jesus baby” and finished him off. 

You both fell asleep, you leaning into Joel but being careful with him as good as he was doing, he was still in some discomfort. You watched him sleep, it felt good feeling his chest rise and fall under the palm of your hand. As you feel him breath, you begin to feel him move restlessly under your hand, his breathing becoming erratic. You gently nudge him but it seems to make him worse, you sit up and press your hands at either side of his face, “Joel, Joel wake up! You’re having a nightmare”. Before his eyes flash open he raises his hand to your throat, his grip tightens but quickly loosens as soon as his eyes open and the realisation of who he had in his grip crosses his face. You get your breath back and Joel still hasn’t moved, his eyes wide open, “I - I am sorry. I don’t know wh-“ he says flustered, seemingly unable to move or even blink. 

You move closer to him, almost sitting in his lap, you take his face in your hands and try to force him to look at you “Hey it’s okay, I am okay Joel.” But he is still struggling to look at you and try to pull his face to look at the ground. 

“I just keep seeing it” he says in almost a whisper, you can feel his cheeks are becoming slightly damp. 

Pressing a kiss to his forehead you reply “It’s going to be okay, I promise”. 

[nikki-writes-stuff]

Sweet As Sin - Part Four

Summary: After losing your job and having to spend all of your savings, you find yourself completely broke as you desperately search for a job. On a whim, you join a website for sugar babies and sugar daddies can meet, and you’re surprised when you immediately make a connection with Captain America, of all people. But as you grow closer to Steve, you start to realize that there may be a dark side to America’s golden boy.

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Steve Rogers x Reader, with eventual Dark!Steve Rogers

Read part three here!

A/N: Here be smut! 18+ only, please. :) Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Your GPS navigated you to the address Steve had texted you that morning, and you immediately felt out of place as your old, battered Impala puttered down a road lined with well-manicured brownstones. Each one was a little bit unique, but they all had the same thing in common – they were wicked expensive, located in one of the nicest areas of Brooklyn. You had passed a boujee private school, two quaint shopping centers, and a small dog park on the way, and now you were parallel parking in front of Steve’s house.

After reaching into the backseat to sling your duffel bag over your shoulder, you turned on your heel and stared up at the three-story building. Planter boxes lined every window on the street-facing side, and you smiled at the thought of Steve planting and tending to the ferns growing within them. The door had been painted a bright, cheerful red, and an American flag was flapping just to the left of it. You had to chuckle a little at the cliché, but you knew that Steve was an old-fashioned guy. It was easy for you to picture him making this house his home.

You climbed the front steps and knocked on the door, adjusting your knit cap as you waited for your boyfriend to answer. The wind was biting as it whirled through the streets of New York, and a quick glance skyward told you that snow would be coming soon.

You were broken out of your thoughts when the door opened, revealing Steve smiling down at you from its other side. He was dressed in a cable-knit sweater that was the same color of his eyes, and your mouth watered when you saw the steaming mug of coffee in his left hand.

“Hey, doll,” he greeted you, and you immediately stepped into the warm space, pressing your forehead against his chest.

“You’re so warm,” you groaned, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Glad I can be of service,” he joked. The door clicked shut behind you as his free hand rubbed your back. “You’re cold as ice, hon. Come in; let me take your things.”

Steve slid your duffel bag off of your shoulder, waving at you to follow him into the living room. Along the way, your eyes skimmed over the space, taking in the pictures he had dotted around the walls. You paused at one that showed him sitting on a couch with some very familiar faces; Tony Stark was sitting directly to Steve’s left, holding his hand up behind his head to give him bunny ears. Then, there was the famous Natasha Romanoff, who had her legs draped over Hawkeye’s knees. Thor – the actual Thor - was standing behind the couch holding a massive stein of beer, a large, dopey smile spread across his face as he posed for the camera. And, to top it all off, Bruce Banner was sitting on the floor in front of Mr. Stark with a shy grin.

“That’s me and the original team,” Steve said from behind you, and you jolted at how close he suddenly was. “We took that about a year after the Battle of New York. Tony’s always throwing these parties around holidays.”

You smiled, turning back to face him.

“You guys look like you’re all good friends,” you commented.

“Yeah… We’ve had our ups and downs, but we all know that we have one another’s backs.”

You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the baby hairs growing at the base of his skull.

“You need to tell me about some of your adventures sometime,” you remarked. Steve laughed and squeezed your hip, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“You’re my favorite adventure so far.”

“Oh, my god,” you laughed. “That was so cheesy, Steve!”

He smiled sheepishly before stepping back, leading you towards a crackling fireplace waiting just in the other room.

“As cheesy as it is, it’s true.”

You nearly melted once you laid eyes on Steve’s living room. The space was incredibly cozy; there was a large, beige sectional sofa to one side, and a matching loveseat was placed directly in front of it on the other side of the hardwood coffee table. To the left, there was a large bay window that had been visible from the street, and there was a window seat built into it full of decorative pillows. Bookshelves lined the opposite wall, and you recognized one of them from the picture Steve had sent to you during your first ever conversation.

The fireplace, though, was truly the heart of the space. It was large and made of stone, and above the mantle, there was a huge painting of the New York skyline done in abstract shades of brown and red. As you walked further into the room, you felt the heat from the fireplace wash over you, and you didn’t hesitate before taking a seat on the floor in front of it and sticking your hands out to warm them by the fire.

“Steve, I’m in love with this room,” you gushed, smiling up at him.

“And here I thought I’d never be jealous of my own house,” he joked, lowering himself down beside you. He set your duffel to the side and carefully set his coffee down a few feet away before pulling you flush against his side. You leaned into him as his arm came up around your shoulders, closing your eyes as you breathed in the scent of his cologne.

“I can’t take full credit for this place, though,” Steve continued on. “When I picked this house out, Tony surprised me by hiring a decorator. But there are a few things that I’ve done here and there to put my own spin on it.”

“Like what?”

You watched as he pointed at the painting above the mantle, nodding towards it.

“Well, I did that about a week after I moved in.”

“Wait, you painted that? Steve, that’s amazing.”

You turned to him just in time to catch the blush that was painted over his features. He just chuckled and shook his head, waving off your compliment.

“Nah, it’s nothing. I don’t make nearly as much art as I used to,” he confessed. “Back when I was growing up, I would draw on the side to earn extra cash for me and my mom all the time.”

You smiled, craning your neck so you could look up at him.

“What kind of things would you draw?” you asked.

“Usually people,” he reminisced. “I would set up my sketchpad on a street in a rich neighborhood, and some people passing by would give me a nickel to do a quick sketch of them.”

“Wow… So on top of everything else, he draws too,” you chuckled. “Is there anything you can’t do, Steve?”

He laughed, pulling you tighter against him.

“Oh, god, yeah,” he laughed. “You could write a series of encyclopedias about the things I can’t do.”

“Oh, please. Name just one.”

“I can’t dance,” he said immediately.

“C’mon, everyone can dance-“

“Everyone except for Steve Rogers,” he insisted. “It was the same back when I was younger; whether it’s to modern music or not, I can’t dance without looking like a goober.”

You snorted, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry, just… ‘Goober’?”

Steve winced, glancing at you sheepishly.

“…People don’t say ‘goober’ anymore?”

“Steve, no one has used the word ‘goober’ in a sentence in a thousand years.”

“Now, I know that’s not true. I’m old, but I’m not a thousand-“

“Are you sure about that?” you interrupted with a grin. “Because anyone who says goober should probably be checked into a nursing home. Actually, I passed a few on the way, if you’d like to consider-“

You cut yourself off with a squeal as Steve turned you around, pressing your back to the floor as he straddled your hips.

“You know what?” he laughed. “I don’t need to take this abuse.”

You couldn’t hold back the giggles that were tumbling out of your lips, and Steve’s smile matched yours as he held you firmly in place despite how much you were squirming.

“Oh, what, do you have somewhere to go, miss?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes!”

“And where is that?”

“I was hoping,” you smiled, “to explore my boyfriend’s house a little bit. See what kind of incriminating things I can find in his bedside drawers and medicine cabinets; you know how it is.”

“Hmmm… No, can’t say I do. What I do know, though,” he remarked, moving one of his hands slowly down your side, “is that your boyfriend has something else he would rather be doing.”

You bit your lip, looking down to watch as his hand snaked lower and lower, eventually finding the button on your jeans. His fingers played with it a bit as he watched your face to gauge your reaction; you looked up at him, staring into his blue irises, and saw how his pupils seemed to dilate.

Suddenly, his mouth was on yours, and you made a small noise of surprise before wrapping your arms around his back and kissing him. The carpet was soft beneath your skin as he slowly started to pull your shirt off, and when you finally broke your kiss, it was only so he could fully remove it and toss it onto the couch. The heat of the fire was warm against your right side, but you still shivered as his eyes hungrily settled on your breasts. You said a silent thank you to your past self for deciding to wear one of your nicer bras that morning as Steve ran his hands over the pink lace of your lingerie.

“I really like this,” he murmured under his breath, most likely to himself. You felt your cheeks heat up from his praise, but your eyes widened when Steve abruptly reached around your back and ripped the bra’s band clean in half.

“Steve!”

“I’ll buy you another one just like it,” he promised, hushing your protests with another searing kiss.  

He tossed the now-useless scrap of fabric away before greedily kneading at your tits, rolling them in his palms as his hips started to grind against yours. Every time his bulge pressed against you just right, you felt shocks of pleasure emanate from your already-drenched pussy.

His lips slowly started to trek downwards, trailing a path down your cheek to your neck, and you cried out when you felt him bite your flesh. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he licked over the bitemark, soothing it before once more sucking in what you were certain would be an impressive hickey later.

Suddenly, though, you felt yourself being flipped over, and your breath was nearly taken away when Steve maneuvered you onto your belly.

“I wanna try something,” he murmured against your ear. You nodded quickly as you felt him guide you up onto your knees, and you shifted to support your weight on your elbows.

You craned your neck and looked over your shoulder, watching as Steve efficiently started removing his and the rest of your clothes, tossing them into a neat pile before turning his attention to you again. He smirked, giving you a wink as he knelt behind you.

“Have I mentioned,” he asked, “how much I love your ass?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you saw his jaw clench as he brought his palm down hard against your ass. You gasped, closing your eyes and letting your head fall forward. Again, he spanked you, and you bit your lip from the sting it left in its wake.

“I asked you a question, baby,” Steve cooed as his hands groped and squeezed your ass.

“I-I,” you stammered, trying to gather your scattered thought. “Uh, n-no, I don’t think you’ve mentioned it.”

“Well.” You could hear the smile on his lips as he once more leaned down, covering your body with his as he kissed your shoulder. “I love it. And I wanna watch it as I fuck you.”

You gulped and nodded, biting your lip as Steve’s mouth trailed down your spine. A noise escaped your throat as his hands spread your ass cheeks, and your pussy clenched as it was exposed to the sudden rush of cool air. You spread your knees wider apart and arched your back, glancing behind you once again.

Steve’s eyes darkened as he took in your form, sitting back on his heels as his hands shifted, using his thumbs to keep you spread open while the rest of his digits curled around your hips. His tongue darted out, licking his lips as his eyes focused on your pussy.

“So wet,” he observed, leaning closer. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And do you want me?”

“Yes, Steve, please-“

“What happened to sir?”

He arched an eyebrow, smirking up at you, and you felt something mischievous stir within you.

“Sorry, Captain,” you purred, wiggling your ass. “I meant to say, ‘Please, sir, fuck me until I can’t walk straight-‘”

A moan interrupted you as Steve leaned in and licked a stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you let out a moan as he lapped at your clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue. One of his hands trailed up your back until it rested between your shoulder blades, and you felt him slowly start to press you downwards until your chest was flush against the carpet and your ass was sticking further up into the air.

All the while, his tongue was starting to flatten out, tracing patterns against your clit that had you seeing stars. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your crossed forearms, your hips jolting any time his tongue changed its pace. Moans fell from your lips unbidden, and you hoped to God his neighbors couldn’t hear you as you grew louder and louder.

The carpet was rough against your knees and your hands, and the lewd sounds of Steve’s tongue laving over your soaked cunt filled the air. You could feel your own juices running down the inside of your thighs, and you could tell from the knot tightening in your belly that you were getting close to cumming.

“Steve,” you panted, pushing your hips back against him. “Fuck, I’m close-“

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, though, Steve pulled away. You whined at the loss, your nails digging into the carpet as you squeezed your thighs together. Within seconds, though, you felt Steve grip your hips as he drew himself up onto his knees, and before you take a breath to prepare yourself, he was pushing into you.

“O-oh, fuck,” he groaned, “Been thinkin’ about this pussy all damn day…”

He wasted no time before starting to move, and you braced yourself as you felt the way your pussy stretched around him; his cock was still just as big as you remembered it being, but despite the burn from being stuffed so full, it still felt amazing as your cunt took his hard length.

“Captain, oh my God-“

You craned your neck to watch him, taking in the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he rolled his hips forward. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his jaw was clenched; you wondered if he was straining to control himself and his strength, doing his best not to hurt you.

Ragged groans were emanating from his parted lips as he fucked you into the floor, and his hands were continuously exploring your body, gliding over your ass to your tits and then back to your hips. With every thrust, the head of his cock was slamming into a spot deep inside of you that had you all but screaming his name, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you found your release.

“You’re getting close,” Steve grunted, pressing his chest against your back and caging you in beneath his body. “I can feel it; you gonna cum for me?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you moaned. “F-fuck, I’m so close-“

One of Steve’s hands moved towards your pussy, brushing past your folds to tap your clit in time with his thrusts. You wailed, your body tensing as your orgasm ripped through you. Your eyes rolled as wave after wave of pleasure washed over your body, and somewhere in the background you could hear Steve’s groan as he came inside of you. Hot cum coated your inner walls as you both rode out your highs, and you shivered as his cock began to soften inside of you.

“Fuck, doll,” he sighed, rolling over onto his side. He gently took you in his arms, spooning you from behind as you faced the fire. “I’d been looking forward to that.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips, and you turned your head to press a quick peck to his lips.

“Me too. To be honest, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off of you, now that I’m gonna be staying here.”

You turned away just as a wide grin spread over Steve’s face, and you missed the pleased, possessive gleam in his eyes as he pecked your cheek.

“I hope it takes them a long time to fix your heating, then.”

____________

The rest of the day went by quickly. You and Steve laid there, talking and dozing for a good hour before going for another round. This time, he fucked you from behind as you laid on the floor, rocking his hips slowly as he whispered filthy things into your ear. Your orgasm was slow-building and languid as he slowly wrung it out of you, and you didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep afterwards until you awoke to find Steve picking you up.

“Sorry, doll,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Oh! Oh, no, it’s… it’s fine. Shit, what time is it?”

“It’s almost five.” Your eyebrows flew up as he started carrying you to the staircase, climbing it with long, confident strides despite baring the weight of an entire other person in his arms. “I was just about to start on dinner.”

“Oh?” A yawn interrupted you, and you giggled when Steve yawned immediately after. “Oh, sorry.”

“For what?”

“For giving you my yawn.”

Steve frowned.

“I… Don’t understand. Your yawn?”

“Yeah! Cuz, you know. Yawns are contagious?”

He shook his head as he carried you into a bathroom decorated in white and blue tile. He sat you down on the counter as he bent down to retrieve a hand towel from beneath the sink, and you took the opportunity to admire just how wide his shoulders were.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Yawns are contagious; for most people, if they see someone else yawn, it makes them yawn, too,” you explained. “It’s a sign of empathy.”

“Huh.” Steve smiled as he ran the towel under the sink, getting it wet with warm water. “Well. Since I caught your yawn…”

“…It means you’re a very empathetic person,” you finished. “But I could’ve told you that anyways.”

“Mm.”

He pulled your legs apart gently as he nodded, and you felt your cheeks heat up as he started to clean the cum from between your legs. His touch was exceedingly gentle as he ran the rag over your skin, and the warmth in his eyes as he looked at you made butterflies erupt into flight within your chest. You thought that this might just be the most intimate moment you’d ever shared with another person; there was something about the sudden shift in mood and the vulnerability of your position that made you want to cling to Steve and never let go.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but his lips found yours in a slow, lazy kiss that had your toes curling. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling his beard as it tickled and brushed against your chin. He tasted like coffee, and he was so warm; you felt as if you were going to dissolve into his touch.

From there, Steve carried you into the kitchen, which was right next to the living room. It, too, was decked out with blue and white tile, and there were several modern stainless steel appliances with the Stark logo on them. You sat on one of the barstools at the island in the center of the room, making easy conversation with your boyfriend as he set about cooking a casserole of some sort.

“Thanks again for letting me stay with you,” you sighed, setting your chin in your hand. “Leave it to my luck to have my heat go out during the coldest time in the year.”

“I don’t think it had anything to do with luck,” Steve spoke, glancing up at you. “I looked into it, and apparently three other apartment complexes in your neighborhood had the same thing happen.”

You straightened upon hearing that; you hadn’t seen that anywhere on the news.

“Oh, wow. I had no idea.”

He shrugged, pulling a head of broccoli from the fridge.

“Well, your side of town isn’t exactly the, uh…safest place to live,” he mused. “If anything, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner.”

“Hey, it’s not so bad,” you quickly defended. “If anything, it’s on the nicer side of things for that part of Brooklyn.”

For a moment, Steve looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held back, closing his mouth before he could make whatever point he’d just thought of.

“…I guess I just worry about you,” he finally huffed. “Sorry; I know that’s probably paranoid.”

“It is,” you agreed. “But… It’s also very sweet. And I am grateful that you invited me to stay here with you.”

A smile came to his lips, and his eyes twinkled as he looked over at you.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”

As it turned out, the casserole Steve made was actually good, despite its bland coloration and questionable look. It was a recipe from the 30’s, after all, but you weren’t disappointed. After eating, you insisted on helping Steve do the dishes, which you did standing side by side in a comfortable silence.

Once the dishes were dried and put away, Steve brought your duffel bag up to the bedroom, giving you a quick tour of the space on the way.

“There are three stories and a basement,” he explained as you ascended the stairs. “But I only use the first and second floor, for the most part.”

He paused on the landing, pointing out various doorways as he listed off rooms.

“Office, bathroom, and bedroom through there,” he explained, gesturing to each respectively. He turned and pointed towards the second set of stairs, which lead upwards. “Upstairs is there, but don’t bother checking it out; it’s just storage and old boxes.”

He walked into the bedroom, which had in it the biggest bed that you had ever laid eyes on. It looked like something out of a movie, and you immediately walked over and sank down, headfirst, into its grey sheets. Steve laughed as he set your bag on the dresser.

“Comfy?”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned, your voice muffled by the sheets. “It’s so comfy, Steve.”

“I did not understand a word of what you just said,” he joked. “But I think it was a yes.”

That evening, the two of you sat on the sofa and watched movies in your pajamas. As it turned out, Steve had never seen Star Wars (though you weren’t terribly surprised by that fact), so he rented A New Hope for the two of you. He kept up with the plot surprisingly well, though you could tell some of the science-fiction jargon went way over his head. And once it was over, he asked if you would watch Empire Strikes Back with him next, which you happily agreed to do even though you were starting to feel your eyelids grow heavy.

Steve’s reaction to the ending, though, was completely worth staying up. You laughed as he sat there, watching the credits, his jaw still slack with shock.

“…So wait a minute,” he finally said, setting his elbows on his knees and staring at the screen. “You’re tellin’ me that Darth Vader is Luke’s father?!”

“I cannot believe you haven’t had that spoiled for you before,” you laughed.

“I mean, I thought it was a little funny that his name means ‘father’ in German, but I thought it was just a coincidence,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair. He let himself relax once again, sinking back into the sofa cushions, and you set your head on his shoulder as he tapped his foot restlessly.

“Darth Vader is Luke’s dad,” he whispered to himself, and you barked out a laugh. Directly afterwards, though, a yawn overtook you, and Steve looked down at you with an arched eyebrow. “Gettin’ sleepy?”

“Just a bit,” you yawned once again. You blinked up at Steve slowly, finding a fond smile plastered across his lips.

“I think,” he said, pulling you into his arms, “that it’s time for us to go to bed.”

You made no protest as he picked you up, effortlessly carrying you through the house as he went around, shutting off all the lights. He only let you go once he brought you to the bedroom, and you kissed his cheek before kneeling down by your duffel, looking around for your toothbrush.

“Oh, shit,” you groaned under your breath. “No, no, come on-“

“What’s the matter?” Steve asked from the other side of the room.

“I forgot my toothbrush,” you sighed, standing up. “I’m gonna have the worst morning breath.”

Steve chuckled and gestured for you to follow him to the bathroom.

“Don’t worry; I picked up an extra for you the last time I was at the store,” he told you.

“Oh, thank God-“  You paused, arching an eyebrow at him. “Wait… How did you know I would be over?”

The smile on his face faltered for just a second as he turned to answer your question, but it righted itself before he spoke next.

“Oh, I didn’t. But I was hopeful that you’d spend the night here at some point.”

You grinned, nudging his shoulder with yours after he pulled a still-packaged toothbrush out of the medicine cabinet.

“Someone was confident,” you smirked.

“No, not confident,” he corrected you. “Just hopeful.”

____________

You slept like a baby that night; how could you not? Steve held you in his arms almost the entire time; as it turned out, he was a bit of a cuddler in his sleep. You weren’t complaining, though; when you woke up the next morning, you felt more well-rested than you had in a long, long time.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.”

You turned to find Steve walking into the bedroom, already dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue button-down. A quick glance towards the clock told you that it was only 8:07 in the morning, but you could already smell breakfast wafting from downstairs.

“How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, drawing your attention back to him.

“Perfectly,” you smiled, pushing the sheets back and stretching.

“Well, I’m glad. We have a busy day ahead of us,” he remarked. You arched an eyebrow as you stood up and made your way over to your duffel.

“Oh, really? What do you have planned for us, Cap?”

You jumped when you felt him press up against you from behind, and you let him tilt your head to the side so he could press a soft kiss to your neck.

“Well,” he murmured, trailing his hands over your hips. “I thought that we could eat a big breakfast, first off. And afterwards, I was thinking we could go to the zoo.”

You gasped and spun around, feeling excitement spark in your chest.

“What?!”

Steve laughed, a wide grin spreading over his features.

“Well, why not? I’m in between missions, so there’s nowhere for me to be. And I’ve always wanted to take a dame to Prospect Park; me and Bucky were actually at the opening of the zoo there back in the 30’s.”

“That’s…really cool, Steve,” you smiled, starting to pick out your outfit for the day. “What was it like?”

Steve sat on the bed and watched as you debated which sweater you wanted to wear with the jeans you’d picked out, thinking back to the fond memory.

“Well, me and Bucky were broke, first of all,” he chuckled. “We couldn’t afford a ticket in, but Buck was friends with one of the zookeeper’s sons. So he snuck us in with him when he went in to work that morning.

“The whole place was packed that first day; things were different back then, you know. Most people had only ever seen pictures of an elephant or a lion, and even then, the pictures weren’t detailed and in color the way they are today. So people were seeing these creatures they’d only ever imagined before in real life for the first time. It was…”

You looked over as you pulled your sweater over your head, catching the small, wistful smile on Steve’s face as he thought back to that time.

“It was magical, as corny as that sounds,” he finally sighed. “Plus, that opening day was the day before my birthday, so it was extra special for me.”

“Oh, I bet that was one incredible b-day,” you said. “What day is it on?”

At that, Steve paused, and you could have sworn that a blush had started to spread over his cheeks.

“I… Well, it’s…”

You frowned, walking over to set your hands on his shoulders.

“What is it?” you asked? “Don’t wanna tell your own girlfriend when your birthday is?”

Steve let out a huff of laughter at that, letting his hands come to rest on your waist.

“It’s just… Well. When Tony found out about it, he never let me hear the end of it. In fact, every year since he found out, he’s thrown an enormous, obnoxious birthday barbeque for me.”

“Oh, come on, that doesn’t sound so bad-“

“My birthday is on the fourth of July.”

You blinked, trying your best to fight back the grin that was trying to spread over your face. A sharp burst of laughter escaped you, and you quickly threw your hand over your mouth as Steve let out a sigh.

“…Yyyyeah…”

“You’re kidding me,” you giggled, letting your hand fall from your mouth to your chest. “No, that’s…that’s too perfect. The universe would never be so rude to you.”

Steve shook his head, scratching his beard.

“Tony puts up these banners that say Happy America Day, and my cake has been red, white, and blue for the past five years.”

You couldn’t help it; you laughed so hard that tears came to your eyes; Steve had just looked so defeated as he said that, and you couldn’t deny the irony that Steve would also just happen to be born on the same day America declared its independence from Britain. He took it like a champ, though, and just laughed with you at the coincidence.

“Well,” you finally said, still grinning, “this year we’ll do something for your birthday that’s decidedly not patriotic.”

Steve, for his part, actually looked touched, and there was a tone of relief in his next words.

“I would…really like that.”

______________

That day might have been one of the best of your life. After feasting on pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs, the two of you dressed up in your warmest coats and left for the zoo. Steve had offered to drive you there on his motorcycle, and despite your initial trepidation, you’d said yes. As it turned out, you enjoyed the experience, if for no other reason than it gave you an excuse to have Steve between your legs for the duration of the short drive. It was nice to feel the wind rush around you as you clung to him, and the way the bike tilted into the twists and turns of the road was exhilarating.

You’d never had as much fun at a zoo as you had that day. Steve gave you a grand tour of the parts he remembered from the 30’s, and you told him random facts about the various animals the two of you saw. And despite the fact that Steve swore up and down that he didn’t enjoy using modern technology, he took nearly a thousand pictures that day – most of them were of you or whatever animal you were looking at, but you managed to convince him to take a few selfies with you.

You even captured a picture of Steve that, in your opinion, was priceless. It was of him in front of the lion exhibit, and it was taken the moment one of the lions started walking right towards the glass. Steve’s eyes were wide in the photo, and his mouth was open wide in an excited smile; you’d found out later that lions were his favorite animal. He told you that as you two sat in the zoo’s main plaza, snacking on some overpriced pizza that Steve had insisted he didn’t mind getting for the two of you.

“To be fair,” he said after laughing at the picture, “lions are my favorites. I get that excited any time I see one.”

“Really? Why lions?” you asked.

One of the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile, and he took a sip of his beer before answering.

“They were always my mom’s favorite,” he explained, and you could hear a hint of melancholy in his voice. “I used to draw them for her; they always made her happy, even after she got sick.”

A sad smile had fallen over his face, and your heart squeezed at the sight of it.

“…I can tell you miss her,” you spoke softly, reaching over to put your hand over his. “But for what it’s worth, I know that she was proud of you, and she’d be even prouder to see who you’ve become. But… I know that doesn’t make it any easier.”

Steve’s eyes found yours, and no one could miss the affection that was glimmering in them for you. His hand squeezed yours, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Thanks, doll,” he murmured. “It does help, more than you know.”

After the two of you finished your lunch, you walked around the rest of the zoo, hand in hand. Steve’s beard made it harder for people to recognize him, but there were still a few who came up asking for selfies with him. He was always gracious about it, letting them take a quick photo and thanking them for their kind words before turning back to you. There were others who didn’t come up to talk to him but who definitely still recognized who he was; you saw a few of them taking pictures of you, but you tried not to worry about it, focusing instead of Steve and the scenery around you.

Once you were done at the zoo, you two walked around for a while without any real purpose or destination. You took in the sights of the city, strolling down tiny side streets and exploring what Brooklyn had to offer. Towards mid-afternoon, you stumbled upon a small, hole-in-the-wall café that had the most delicious smell wafting from its open door. The two of you had stepped in to find that the shop owner had just baked some homemade cinnamon rolls, and so the two of you took a break in your exploration of the city to have a cup of coffee while sharing a cinnamon roll. It, of course, was sinfully delicious, as was the sight of Steve licking icing off of his lips.

He caught you staring at one point and winked, causing you to look away as your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. You got him right back, though, when you saw his eyes linger on your mouth as you licked icing off your fingertips.

“See something you like, sir?” you’d asked quietly. His eyes had visibly darkened, and his voice was husky when he leaned in to murmur his reply.

“I’m gonna remember that later on tonight, baby,” he’d promised.

And once the two of you got back to his place, that’s exactly what he did. That night, the two of you could barely keep your hands off each other. When you finally did manage to go to sleep, you were thoroughly exhausted, which might have been the reason why you slept so late the next day. In any case, when you finally woke up, the clock on the nightstand told you it was 9:30 already.

“Fuck,” you sighed, sitting up stiffly as your sore muscles ached in protest.

No amount of stretching was able to calm the ache in your limbs, but despite how it made your every movement burn, you didn’t regret a single thing about the day before. A small, sated smile had settled over your lips as you pulled on one of Steve’s t-shirts and made your way downstairs. Halfway there, though, you heard your lover’s voice coming from the kitchen, and he didn’t seem happy.

You paused, a frown spreading over your face you slowed to a stop.

“I don’t care, Fury,” Steve was saying. You peeked around the corner, seeing him seated at the island, a stormy expression on his face as he stared down at his cup of coffee. You could just barely catch the sound of a man yelling something on the other line, but you couldn’t make out his words.

“Then get Natasha to lead the mission,” he suddenly barked, and you ducked back around the corner as you listened. “Or Sam; he’s more than capable of-“

He was interrupted again, and you bit your lip, contemplating whether or not you should reveal yourself. Maybe you should go back upstairs? But what if he heard you walking away – would he realize you’d been eavesdropping?

“Director, my personal relationships are none of your business,” he all but growled, and your ears perked up; was he talking about you? “And neither are my reasons for turning down missions. Bottom line is, I’m not going. Sam will be willing to lead, and you can send Wanda in for extra backup. And before you say anything, yes, she’s ready for this.”

With that, Steve hung up; you heard the clatter of him dropping his phone onto the countertop. You held your breath and counted to ten in your head before straightening up and walking around the corner, watching as his head popped up to look at you.

“Good morning,” you smiled, walking over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Did I hear you on the phone with someone?”

Instantly, the worried lines on his face disappeared, and an easy smile overtook his features as he pulled you in for a quick kiss.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said. “Just some business back at the compound – nothing to worry about.”

You pulled back, looking over his face; as upset as he’d sounded before, now there were no traces of frustration to be seen. A small part inside of you glowed at the thought that you’d been the one to relieve his tension so quickly, but you couldn’t help but wonder about what his phone call had been about.

“I was thinking we could go back to that café we found yesterday for breakfast,” he said abruptly. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Oh! Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’d like that. I’ll go get dressed.”

Steve smiled and nodded, watching your ass as you walked back towards the stairs. His eyes followed you until you completely left the room, and even then his gaze lingered where you’d been standing moments before; he was totally, completely, addicted to the feelings you brought up in him. At first, he’d felt guilty about tampering with the heating unit for your building, but he reasoned that it would only take them about a week to fix it. And, God, did he need this – a week alone with the woman he was so quickly growing to adore.

Any shred of regret he’d felt from stealing the copper wires from your heating unit or from turning down missions just so he could spend more time with you had faded away as soon as you came walking into the kitchen wearing nothing but his t-shirt. So, no, he wasn’t going to entertain Director Fury’s tantrums when he said no to an assignment. In fact, he reached for his phone and turned it off before sliding it in his pocket and picking up the newspaper in front of him.

He sipped his coffee as he skimmed over the articles, and although he usually discarded the gossip and entertainment sections entirely, his eyes fell on a headline that caught his attention. Biting his lip, he turned to its page, staring that the picture printed before him. It was from yesterday, when the two of you had gone to the zoo. His hand was in yours, and you were smiling up at him as the two of you strolled past the elephant exhibit. ‘Captain America Finally Finds Love?’ was scrawled boldly across the top of the page, and his eyes scanned the article, taking in the various speculations as to who you were and how you’d met the famous super soldier.

Just as he was finished reading, he heard your footsteps start to descend the staircase, and he quickly pulled the page out of the paper and folded it in half a few times, sliding it into his pocket just before you appeared in the doorway, looking absolutely gorgeous in a deep burgundy sweater dress and soft gray leggings.

“Ready to go?” you asked, adjusting the knit cat perched on top of your head.

Steve grinned and stood up, grabbing his keys before making his way over to you.

“I sure am, doll.”

[honey-dewey]

True Trans Soul Rebel

Pairing: Din Djarin/Trans Reader (Not specified whether reader is FTM or MTF)

Word Count: 2,220

Warnings: Mentions of needles and injections, transphobia against the reader. 

Traveling with Mando was an experience, especially after being beat up all your life for being transgender. It’s taken a lot for you to love yourself, but the mandalorian who definitely supports and probably loves you absolutely helps. 

Traveling the known galaxy was a very unique thrill. Seeing new planets every week and sleeping every night on a ship suspended in hyperspace, it was an experience like no other. You highly doubted much could top it. 

Well. Maybe one thing. 

Traveling the known galaxy with a Mandalorian might be able to beat just traveling. 

He was kind to you, which was odd because all your life you’d heard nothing but hushed whispers about mandalorians as takers and hunters. Despite your home planet being in the mandalore sector, mandalorians themselves didn’t have a high reputation there. The only bright spot was the story of Mandalore the Binder, who had been born on your planet. 

But that was in the past. Now, years after you’d left that planet, you were traveling with a mandalorian, which was a huge rush in and of itself. You’d seen so many new planets, and Mando, as he insisted you call him, never questioned the abnormality that had gotten you thrown out of your old family. He saw past the physical and into the skills you had as a mechanic, plus you’d been basically at death’s door when he’d met you. And if there was one thing this mandalorian had, it was a soft heart. 

“Where to now?” You asked, slumped loosely in the copilot’s chair, Grogu asleep in your lap. 

Mando turned, as if he’d forgotten you were there. “Shikaakwa.” 

You paused, trying to remember where that was. “The Tython system? Why are you headed out there?” 

“The quarry I’m hunting is out there.” 

“Oh.” Sometimes you forgot you were traveling with a bounty hunter and not just a weird single father. “Is that the system with Kalimahr?” 

Mando nodded. 

“Sweet,” you said, flicking one of Grogu’s ears simply to watch it move. “I need more Imitoin.” 

You could’ve sworn you heard Mando sigh, but he didn’t move or say anything, so you assumed he’d taken what you said into consideration. 

Shikaakwa was a weird planet. The atmosphere was breathable, so Mando let you take Grogu out to play for a bit. But he was extremely uptight about it, and for good reason. Best you remembered, the planet was still under horrible gangster rule, meaning it was likely unsafe for you outside of the Crest. 

That didn’t stop you from playing outside. 

Mando kept a stern eye on you and Grogu, fiddling with his pulse rifle and tracking fob before finally standing. “I’m going,” he said, catching your attention. “Get back on the Crest and do not leave until I get back.” 

You nodded, scooping Grogu up and waving goodbye. 

“C’mon kiddo,” you said happily, stroking down Grogu’s ears as you walked back to the Crest. “Let’s go screw with daddy’s shit.” 

Four days later, you’d organized everything on board twice and actually got around to fixing the mildly faulty left engine that you’d been putting off for months. Mando hadn’t returned, but you’d gotten a message from him on the third day that he shouldn’t be too much longer. 

On day five, he returned in the middle of the night, the quarry immediately being frozen and locked up before he even thought about finding you. 

You, of course, had been woken by the sounds of Mando returning. It was horribly late and you fell back asleep almost immediately, knowing that Mando would wake you if he needed help. 

When you actually woke the next morning, Mando was landing the ship, which was odd because you hadn’t felt him take off. However, you just yawned and sat up, adjusting your oversized shirt that had once had a logo on it. You slipped out of your bed, patting around for Grogu until you heard him cooing in the cockpit. 

Continuing to adjust your sleep shirt and horribly stained shorts, you wandered around, entirely barefoot, until you reached the cockpit. 

“Good morning,” Mando said, looking over his shoulder as you entered. “We’re on Kalimahr. My docking pass lasts twelve hours, so make them count.” 

You nodded, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “When’d you get back?” You asked, yawning halfway through your sentence. 

Mando’s modulator made an odd noise before he answered. “Late. You fell asleep in my bed, by the way.” 

Immediately, you squeaked out an apology, but Mando waved it off. 

“I wasn’t going to sleep anyway,” he reassured. “Couldn’t stay there any longer.” 

You nodded, still embarrassed. “I’m gonna go get dressed,” you said. “Can you find the closest pharmacy?” 

Mando gave you a gesture of affirmation while you slid out of the cockpit and down into the fresher. 

Dressing was always interesting. Mando thought it was impressive that you’d learned how to care for yourself in the dark, and you hated how sad you’d sounded as you explained why. Every time you saw your body it made you want to scream and cry. 

“One day,” you mumbled to yourself, blindly locating your favorite tank top. “One day I’ll get that damn surgery.” 

When you finally got dressed, you were able to flick the lights on, admiring yourself in the grimy mirror. This outfit was a favorite of yours, with the olive green tank top and overalls you hadn’t stained too badly yet. You preemptively wrapped a grey fabric baby carrier around your chest, knowing you’d probably be taking Grogu today. Overtop that, you had a loose brown jacket that came down past your knees, the patches and overly large hood giving it character and telling your story. 

Lacing up your black work boots, you grabbed the tiny trash can that was stowed away in the fresher corner, intent on getting rid of whatever trash had been accumulated. 

“Let’s go!” You shouted up to the cockpit, using your foot to open the portable incinerator you kept on board for the trash. 

As you emptied the trash can, you absently watched the contents burn. Your syringes took a minute, along with the few empty glass medicine bottles. The bandages burned quickly, but what made you recoil was the very strong smell of burning hair. 

“Mando!” You yelled, looking behind you as his boots firmly stepped off the ladder. 

“What?” 

You closed the incinerator, wrinkling your nose and walking past him to put the trash can back. “Next time you cut your hair,” you said, walking back to him and taking Grogu from his arms. “You’re emptying the trash into the incinerator. It smells like shit.” 

Mando chuckled, watching you adjust Grogu into your baby carrier. “Deal.” 

Your trip into the city was relaxing. At least, much more relaxing than waiting for Mando on board the Crest while he probably got himself shot at multiple times. When you stepped into line at the pharmacy, a few people gave Mando a look, one mother tugging her child closer to her side. You rolled your eyes. Mando wasn’t a completely uncivilized killer. At least not all the time. 

He turned a blind eye to the hesitation as the line moved forward. When it was finally your turn, you put on your kindest smile and spoke sweetly to the four armed woman manning the window. “Hi! I need a six month supply of Imitoin-126, with the syringes.” 

The woman eyed Mando and Grogu before addressing you. “Can I see your card?” 

You dug your prescription card out of your pocket, sliding it across the counter. The woman took it and examined it before giving it back. “I’ll go grab you a box of that. Is there anything else I can get you?” 

You thought about the supplies on the Crest. “Mando?” You asked. “Do we need anything?” 

“Bacta patches,” Mando said after mulling it over. “And probably some more painkillers.” 

“Cool.” You turned back to the woman. “Two boxes of bacta patches, one medium and one small, and one bottle of Omnipril please.” 

The woman nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

While you waited, you stroked Grogu’s ears, making him giggle whenever you gave them a light tug. Mando watched, occasionally reaching out to tug on Grogu’s ears himself. 

The woman came back after a few minutes, your various purchases in her arms. “That’ll be three twenty five.” 

You gave her the credits, accepting the bag of stuff she handed you. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too!” You said cheerily, putting the bag in your leather satchel for safekeeping.

The rest of your day was mundane. You picked up a few more purchases, namely food and parts for the Crest. Eventually, Mando split off to find something specific for his pulse rifle, leaving you to absently browse in the city’s center. 

While you looked over a new pair of welding goggles, you heard a commotion behind you. Turning, you noticed a group of protesters standing outside an unassuming white building, harassing someone who was just trying to get in. 

“Excuse me?” You stepped up, despite knowing you’d probably be giving Mando grey hair if he could see you right now. “What’s going on?” 

One of the protesters pointed at the person, who you assumed from the white coat was a doctor. “This doctor is a disgrace!”

“Why?” You were genuinely curious now, putting a protective hand over Grogu’s chest just in case this got ugly. 

“They are willingly defiling the natural form!” The protester said firmly. “They would actually perform a procedure to change the body and make it something else! To turn people into ungodly abominations!” 

You stepped back, not wanting to get involved now. “Oh. Well.” 

The protester glared at you. “You do not find this disgusting?” 

“I-“ You took another step back, flinching away from another protester who grabbed your bag, the abrupt action spilling its contents on the cobblestone. 

“They are a disgrace!” The protester shouted, seeing your Imitoin hit the ground. “A disgrace!” 

Immediately, the protesters ganged up on you, forcing you to your knees, curled around Grogu in a desperate attempt to protect him. 

“Hey!” A loud and familiar modulated voice broke the vicious cycle of abuse, causing you to look up. 

Mando stood in the center of the cobblestone circle, his shoulders squared. 

“Leave,” he growled, taking a step forward. 

The protesters scattered, running off, leaving you and the doctor. The doctor reached your crouched form first, slowly helping you to your feet and gathering your purchases to place back in your bag. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded, wiping tears from your eyes. “Yeah.” 

The doctor smiled, looking up at Mando. “If you ever need anything,” she said softly to you, handing you a small card. “Come back here, okay?” 

Mando put an arm around you, carefully tugging you to his side. “We’re going home,” he said tightly. 

The walk back to the Crest was silent. Mando kept his arm around you the entire time, and your head remained bowed as the Crest got closer and closer. 

When you were finally curled up in the cockpit of your home, you broke. 

Mando, thankfully, wasn’t as much of an emotionally stunted brick as people assumed. He wrapped you in a beskar hug, slowly putting his forehead on top of your head as you sobbed. “It’s okay,” he reassured softly, smoothing a hand up and down your back. “It’s okay.” 

You continued to cry until your body had nothing left, leaving you exhausted and horribly dehydrated. Mando let you sit in the pilot’s chair, grabbing a water bottle and watching closely as you drank half of it in one go. 

“Let’s do your medicine and then you can take a nap,” he said finally, once you’d put the water bottle down. “While you sleep, we can head back to Nevarro.” 

You nodded, silently taking your coat off and unwrapping the grey baby carrier from your body. Grogu was in his pram, half asleep already. 

Mando carefully helped you to his bunk, turning away so you could take your overalls off and slip into your sleep shorts. Once you’d done that, he handed you the empty syringe and the new bottle of Imitoin. You expertly filled the syringe and stuck yourself in the thigh. It didn’t make you nervous anymore, as it did in the beginning. Mando watched, sticking a bandage to the small puncture hole while you disposed of the syringe. 

“Are you okay?” He asked finally. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, settling down on the mattress. 

Mando sighed, beginning to take his armor off and pile it on the floor. Once he was left in just his tank top, pants, and helmet, he laid down beside you, shutting the door and plunging the small sleeping area into darkness. 

“C’mere,” Mando murmured, tugging you closer. You tangled your legs with his, losing yourself in the broadness of his chest. 

You drifted off, waking up a bit when a small hiss filled the space. 

“Whassat?” You mumbled, looking up at where you thought Mando’s head was. 

A dull clunk and a soft sigh woke you a bit more as you realized what was probably happening. 

“Go to sleep,” Mando murmured, his voice richer now that it was unmodulated. “I’ll stay until you do.”

You fell asleep slowly, cuddled up to Mando. He did his best to relax you as you drifted, scratching slightly at your scalp and hardly moving as you finally let the world melt away, held safe in the arms of the mandalorian who loved you.

[daretosnoop]

Chapter 2: The Investigation Begins

Chapter 1

This chapter is more descriptive heavy. I changed the layout of the upstairs area to include a bathroom and another bedroom. 

At first, all Nancy felt was dizziness. It was strange. It wasn’t the first time she’d been knocked out by someone. But it was the first time it was done by a masked skull figure, and they didn’t exactly knock her out so much as throw, something, towards her face. Whatever it was, it was potent. She still felt woozy and would have gone back to sleep if it weren’t for the thunder and a woman’s voice.

“Here, drink this”.

The sudden smell of something bitter filled Nancy’s nose.

“Don’t give her anything strange, then I really will have to take her to the hospital,” came another, lower, voice.

“Oh hush now. Just get back to your work,” the woman snapped back. She turned towards Nancy and urged the drink.

“It will make the dizziness go away, dear”.

Ignoring all warnings of caution, Nancy reached for the drink and drank. It was bitter, not that she expected it to be anything else, but it worked. She quickly found herself coming back to terms with her surroundings.

“There’s a dear,” the woman said. “I’m Renee. Mind I ask what you were doing unconscious in the Bolet manor?”

“Someone attacked me”.

“Someone, attacked you?” Renee repeated, not understanding.

“Someone dressed as a skeleton attacked me. I’m Nancy Drew. I’m looking for Henry Bolet”.

“Girl, you sure you didn’t hit your head too hard? Should we take you to the emergency?”

“No,” the lower voice broke in. “No emergency rooms! I’ve already got enough to deal with, and this power outage doesn’t help matters!”.

Renee sighed and shook her head. She turned towards Nancy.

“If you need me, I’ll be out in my garden”.

Saying so, she got up and left out through some double doors.

“I’ll call them and put them on hold and see how they like it!” the low voice grumbled after Renee left the room.

Slowly, Nancy got up and looked around. The room was dimly lit. Candles were everywhere, decorating bookshelf after bookshelf. One bookshelf was oddly decorated by teeth, with each book depicting a tooth on its spine. Another had a stuffed lizard on it. Trophies decorated the other side of the room, and in the left hand corner a desk sat with a young man on a swivel chair.

“Uh,” Nancy called weakly, then cleared her throat. “Excuse me. Are you Henry Bolet?”

The swivel chair turned and she came face-to-face with an oddity of a man. He dressed sharply and was very fit, but he leaned into the red chair and slouched a bit. His crisp looks were contrasted with features that Nancy recognized as a goth look. Not quite one or the other, she thought.

“I am”.

“Uh, well. I guess I’m the woman who fell unconscious at your house. Sorry about that. Bad way to introduce yourself, though, I guess it could be worse.”

Henry looked at her perplexed. “How so?” he asked.

“Well, for starters, I could be all up in your face demanding why you kidnapped my friend”.

“Okay,” Henry drawled.

“Long story. I’m Nancy Drew. We have a mutual friend, Ned Nickerson?” She held out a hand towards him. “Pleased to meet you”.

Henry shook her hand firmly.

“Ah Ned,” he started but then dropped the sentence. He knew who Ned was, barely. They shared accounting courses. Ned Nickerson blended into the class and Henry would have never thought to approach him. But somehow Ned noticed him and stuck around to give a friendly wave and smile.

“He’s, persistent,” Henry concluded.

“Well, that’s Ned for you,” Nancy said, giving Henry a bright smile.

Ned was the only one to notice Henry being even more gloomy and withdrawn as usual. Perhaps he overheard the phone calls Henry had with Bruno Bolet’s doctor and solicitor. Henry didn’t know, but Ned asked him how he was coping with his uncle’s loss. When Henry said he was going to New Orleans, Ned insisted on having someone check in on him.

“I’m guessing he sent you here to check on me. I kind of come off as needy, but I’m fine, really. So you can just go on home and tell Ned I’m fine. Go out and enjoy New Orleans”.

Henry didn’t really understand why Ned would send some friend over. They barely knew each other, so this Nancy person would find things even more awkward. It was best to just get this over with. The sooner she left, the better it would be. The whispers were chattering amongst themselves. They weren’t loud, and they seemed at ease. It was a new sensation.

Skull… find… mask… skull… her…

“I can’t just leave! I don’t know how you’re doing. Plus,” Nancy started to shift her weight from one foot to another. “You see. I’m the type of person, well,” she sighed. “Look, I just can’t let go of what I saw”.

“What did you see?”

“The door was open so I stepped inside. When I entered the living room, there was a man dressed in all black with a skeleton mask. He threw something at me and I got knocked out”.

She’s really lost it.

“I have not lost it!” Nancy snapped, reading his face.

“Are you sure you didn’t just make it up?”

“I know what I saw, and I’m determined to figure it out”.

Well, at least she’s not bothering him about his feelings.

“Can I at least look around for some clues. I promise not to break anything”.

Henry sighed.

“Alright. But I better warn you. Uncle Bruno was eccentric and into all sorts of exotic pets and things. So be careful. Just because he’s dead, doesn’t mean they are”.

Way to sound ominous Bolet. He didn’t mean to scare her, but also didn’t want to deal with a bigger headache than the one his uncle left for him.

But Nancy just smiled, thanked him, and left the room.

 Nancy really didn’t understand why Ned asked her to go and visit some classmate of his. He even acknowledged that he barely knew this Henry Bolet, but she’d be damned if she let the Nickerson charm fail now on account of her. Everyone became enthralled by a Nickerson. So she came down to the French quarters of New Orleans with a friend, Bess Marvin, for a week of good sights and good food, only to have it pour down rain for two days. Trapped in their hotel room, she and Bess called their friends, Ned and Bess’s cousin, George Fayn. It was there that Ned requested her to check in on Henry, and seeing as the rain had no intention of stopping, Nancy went alone.

She was expecting it to be a simple check-in, nothing longer than an hour or two. When she knocked on the door, on one answered. She learned from the concierge that most folks kept their doors open in New Orleans. It wasn’t just on account of friendly neighbours It was also to allow ghosts to exit the house after accidentally entering it. Apparently, ghosts became cranky if they get trapped in a house. Twisting the knob, she entered the manor and went to the foyer. Towards her right was a room and she walked towards it. A person stood in a black tailcoat and boots with his back to her. She called out to them and as they turned, a shiver ran along her shoulders. The person had no face. Or rather, their face was obscured with a skull mask. Before she could ask who they were, what they were doing here, why even were they wearing a mask, the electricity went out. Rats, she thought. Trapped in an empty house with a skeleton person, well done Nancy. A flicker went off and a flash of lightning lighted the room. Within that brief time, the skeleton person managed to tramp up to her, close enough for her to see the eyes underneath the mask. They threw some powder in her face and between her stinging eyes and choked coughs, Nancy lost consciousness.

Had she not been an experienced detective, Nancy knew she probably would have become one today. She went back to the living room and started to investigate. The skeleton figure was inspecting the model cemetery when she entered, so she headed towards it. It was really beautiful and Nancy could see why it would have won an award. This Bruno person clearly appreciated cemeteries from the intricate figures of each burial ground. She read the names. Sleeping Meadows, Terra Siesta, Crowing Crypts, Sorrow Park, Withering Roots Memorial, Forty Winks Mausoleum, all clearly meant for a final resting place. Each burial ground was uniquely decorated and had crypts that indicated how a person was buried. She followed each paths around the cemetery, anticipating any indication of what the skeleton figure was looking at. There was a swamp with an alligator in it, surely a creative addition. There was also a large mausoleum separate from the other burial grounds. It seemed randomly placed and as Nancy peered closed, she saw that there were four engravings on it.

There were buttons that allowed her to change the engravings. Clearly this was some sort of locked box, but she didn’t know the combination that would open it. But she was confident that this was what the skeleton figure was looking at. Stepping away from the model, she looked around the room. There was a collection of portraits on the left wall. These must be the Bolets. They were quite unique in how their appearances overlapped. Guess, this must be where Henry gets his looks and style from. Each portrait revealed the personality of the subject. Oddly enough, they each held some object in their hand. One frame was empty and below it, Nancy saw a piece of paper. She picked it up. On it was an etching of a crow. It matched the engravings on the solitary mausoleum. Surrounding the crow was a detailed border. But Nancy remembered that only one of the engravings had this border. So, there must be three other pictures I need to find.

Nancy looked closely at the bird drawing. It looked like someone stenciled it from some surface. I wonder if this belonged to the Skeleton figure. The paper was slightly damp. So, that must mean the skeleton figure, must have stenciled this outside somewhere. I’ll have to take a look around outside.

Pocketing the paper in her trench coat she moved towards the fireplace. It was cold, but there were indications that it had been previously used. It’s too hot to be using a fireplace right now. She picked through the coals and found scraps of some paper. Most of it was too small and burnt off to be of any use, but she did find one piece with a name on it. Zeke. It looked to be the name of some business, but what?

Nancy stood up and went back to the study room. Henry was still typing away at his computer.

“Henry? I have some questions for you”.

The man swiveled around and raised an eyebrow.

Start small Nancy, you don’t want to scare him. He already thinks you’re seeing things.

“How well did you know your uncle?”

Henry shrugged. “Barely knew him at all”.

“Didn’t he raise you?”

“I guess. If you could call sending me to boarding school, summer school, military school as raising a child. He may have looked after me, but he never cared to spend any time with me”.

“Oh”. Great going Drew. She tried again. “Well, what about your parents?”

“They died in a car crash when I was eight. Then I got dumped onto my uncle. End of his bachelorhood I guess”.

Okay, that didn’t go so well either. She might as well rip the whole Band-Aid off.

“I think this skeleton figure was looking for something in this house. Is there some big object or hidden money or something that people might want to get their hands on?”

Henry looked at her, puzzled.

“Uh, maybe? There’s a lot of junk in this house, as you can see. Some of it might actually be worth something.”

“Well, I think they were after whatever is locked up in the mausoleum box in the cemetery model. It has a lock on it and this,” she took out the crow stencil. “This must have been left by the skeleton figure. If we can unlock the mausoleum, we can get whatever’s inside before the skeleton figure comes back. Do you know where the solitary mausoleum is located?”.

“Look,” Henry began and Nancy internally groaned. She knew that word and tone all too well. Distrust and disinterest. It was rare to ever find another person who had the same interest and excitement in uncovering mysteries. Most people didn’t care about the little odd threads that didn’t add up, only to cry when everything become unwound. It was times like these where she sometimes wished she had her friends and fellow detectives, Frank and Joe Hardy, to back her up. People were more willing to listen to a group than an individual.

“Why are you so concerned about this skeleton figure?” Henry asked.

“Why are you so calm?” Nancy countered. “Someone broke into your house and you’re calm about it? I clearly interrupted them which means they might come back, which means you’re in danger”.

“I got a lot of work to complete”.

Who doesn’t. Nancy sighed, “You don’t need to help me, just tell me a bit about the garden space. Is there a mausoleum that’s separate from other burial grounds?

Henry hesitated. There was such a mausoleum and he knew it very well. Too well.

“What do you need from that mausoleum? The door is completely locked. No one had been inside in years”.

“I don’t think I need to go inside. I just need to look at the building itself. There are engravings that could match the key for the model one”.

Henry nursed his head. “Alright. Once you enter the cemetery and go past the bent tree, the mausoleum should be to your left. Just keep heading that way. Hard to miss”.

Nancy beamed. “Great, thanks so much. She turned to go out towards the door, then turned back.

“Yes?” Henry drawled.

“Do you happen to have any paper?”

“Sorry. Ask Renee”.

Nancy nodded then headed out the door.

Henry watched her leave then turned back to his computer where an excel sheet filled with numerical data awaited him. God, I hope I don’t regret this.

 Outside the Louisiana heat infused into Nancy’s skin. She was not accustomed to the humidity and could already feel her back start to warm up and stick to her dress shirt. She turned to her left and saw a small alcove draped over by green vines. Tucked inside was Renee who was busy potting young plants.

“Hello,” Nancy called out.

Renee looked up sharply and Nancy wasn’t sure whether it was the heat or Renee’s grey eyes that initiated the sweat droplets down her back.

“Hello, dear. Welcome to my little lantern-lit corner of the world. Come in here where it’s dry”.

“What are you growing?” Nancy asked.

“Whatever I need dear”.

“Nothing like freshly grown herbs to add to your food, right?”

Renee looked hard at Nancy and her voice dropped.

“I don’t use these herbs for cooking, darling”.

Then what do you use them for? Nancy wanted to ask Renee this, but the older woman switched topics.

“Have you had a chance to talk to Henry yet?”

“Yes, I have. From your conversation earlier, am I correct in assuming you two are not on the best of terms?”

“My you’re forward aren’t you!” Renee laughed. “Henry is a very morose, very negative young man. Very cunning too”.

“How so?”

“I am almost certain he’s selling his uncle’s property on the sly. When he’s not supposed to, that is”.

“Doesn’t it all belong to Henry now?” Nancy asked.

“Absolutely not!” Renee exclaimed. “According to Dr. Bolet’s will, Henry is to receive thirty percent of the estate. Dr. Bolet’s physician, Gilbert Buford, is to get thirty percent. Our Lady of Route 57 Dentistry and Cosmetology gets thirty percent, and I am to receive ten percent”.

“Is the cemetery part of the estate?”

“Yes and no. It’s not legally part of the estate, but it technically belongs to the Bolet family. It all belongs to Henry now, along with his thirty percent”.

“Who is Gilbert Buford?”

“That’s Dr. Bolet’s heart doctor and best friend. Those two go long back. Thick as thieves”.

Nancy reflected on what Renee provided her with.

“Does Henry seem upset by only getting thirty percent?”

Renee drew her head up and stood tall. “Young lady,” she started. “The Bolet family is intrinsically connected to New Orleans. Henry is not only gaining assets, but also a name, title, and land. Thirty percent of the Dr. Bolet’s fortune is quite a tidy sum, never mind the Bolet family fortune and cemetery”.

“Oh”.

Renee looked towards her plants and slowly resumed her potting.

“I suppose I gave you the impression that Henry is greedy. While I cannot attest to it, Henry is nonetheless not someone you can trust. You best watch yourself around him”.

Renee potted some soil then paused.

“One more thing dear. That skeleton man, I’ve—I’ve seen him too. Now don’t ask me more questions, I don’t want to think about it. But just know, there is something in this house that’s just not right”.

Nancy nodded then switched the topic.

“Do you happen to have some paper?”

“Get the urge to draw something?”

“Yep!”

“Well, now. I know I have some paper in my room, but I won’t be able to go get it till after I’m done potting my plants”.

“I can help you pot the plants”

Renee laughed. “Impatient one you are! No. No. No need. Just take this key and go on up yourself. And while you’re at it. I’m feeling a bit hungry. In my cupboard there’s a stash of Koko Cringles. Be a dear and bring one down for me, and help yourself to one too”.

Nancy took the key and headed back inside. Henry didn’t acknowledge her entrance, so she continued out of the study and up the staircase. It was wonky and creaked a bit. There were four doors. One door was on a lower level and the other three were sequentially placed along the top most level.

She didn’t tell me which door was hers.

Nancy placed the key in the first door, but the handle had no lock. Curious, she pushed open the door and saw an empty room that was bare of anything save a drawer and bed. There was some clutter around the bed and she assumed it was Henry’s. Why would he sleep here though? It was so, lifeless. The rest of the house had character, but this room just looked sad. Nancy quickly shut the door and move up a floor.

The next door had a vase decoration near it, though Nancy didn’t recognize the plant resting within. This door had a lock and she tried the key. The door unlocked. She stepped inside.

 The room looked like a doll house. A creepy one at that. There was an elegant but simple bed with green bedsheets. The bedside cupboard. A vanity table was littered with all sorts of bottles and herbs, and a chest sat in one corner, opposite the bed. Nancy first went to the table.

A bottle with the label ‘hiccup powder’ sat at the forefront. Surely not, she thought as she picked up the bottle and opened it. But to her surprise the burst of powder caused a series of hiccups to come bursting out of her. She quickly put the bottle back, then began to rummage through the other bottles. There was nothing labelled sleeping powder or knock-out powder, though some of the bottles were unlabeled. She didn’t think it was wise to open them though. There was no paper on the table, so she went towards the cupboards.

Opening the top drawer, Nancy found the paper. She then opened the bottom drawer and found a stash of chocolate. Jackpot baby! She took one for Renee, and then ate one. The warmth of the melting chocolate felt good in the creepy room and Nancy couldn’t help but take one bar for the road. No telling when she would need to keep her fortitude up in this house. She got up and turned towards the door when something on the wall caught her eyes.

The wallpaper itself was old, faded and ripped in places, but clear as day in the centre were seven symbols surrounding a major rip. They contrasted a glaring red against the pale yellow wallpaper. Blood red. Nancy stepped towards the symbols and tentatively placed a finger on one sign. The colour was dry and odorless. Probably not blood. But she had no idea what those symbols meant.

Walking around the room, Nancy noticed a rocking chair and went towards it. Lightning flashed and as thunder rumbled, Nancy caught a glimpse of a doll. Not just any doll, but one she specifically saw with an old case of hers. A doll that belonged to a woman that died more than 200 years ago. Nancy had no idea how Renee could have gotten her hands on that doll seeing as the company closed a long time ago. She turned to her right and saw the chest.

Squatting down, she saw four abstract figures on each corner and a large blank circle at the centre. Surrounding the large circle were a multitude of buttons. Curious, she pressed one, and a line appeared on the centre circle. She pressed another and another line appeared. The centre image was now beginning to look like one of the corner figures. She pressed two more buttons but both failed to finish the image and the circle blanked out.  

Nancy looked back towards the wall symbols, then at the chest. Random symbol equals random symbol? She tried again to replicate one of the corner abstract figures. This time it worked and the figure turned blank. Curious lock, she thought as she solved the other three figures. Once all the figures turned blank she heard a click and the chest lifted a little.

Opening the chest, she saw all sorts of odds and ends and a book on hoodoo symbols. She opened the book up and skimmed through the pages. On one page she noticed that the symbols on the wall matched the one’s in the book. Beside each symbol a name was written. Bah? Boo? Dee? Mo? They didn’t spell anything, nor make any sense. Still, it was best to record it down. Nancy took out a notebook and pen from her trench coat and jotted down each symbol along with their associated name. She then packed everything up and headed out of the room and back towards the garden.

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x nonbinary!reader part 2

Agents Mulder and (Y/N) investigate mysterious killing on a forgotten road in rural Wisconsin. A connection to a case in the past brings the investigation to a whole new level.

—

The agents decided split up. Mulder went to go speak with the surviving victim and (Y/N) went to the coroner’s office so that they could look over the victims so they could get an idea of what could have done this.

-

Mulder entered the ICU where the boy was being held. Jason Mulligan, age twenty-two. He was a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire. After getting directions from the nurse, he knocked on the door and made his way inside. Laying on the hospital bed, the boy looked like he’d been through the ringer. Any skin visible was covered in bandages, even his head apart from his right eye and mouth was covered. At his bedside was a woman he assumed was his mother.

“Pardon my intrusion, I’m special agent Fox Mulder with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He flashed his badge.

“This was an animal attack though.” Mrs. Mulligan said.

“We were called in, it’s just procedure. I just came to ask Jason a couple questions if he’s up to it.” Mulder said, looking at the boy in the bed.

Jason sat up a bit, “I can answer questions.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

“I appreciate that, young man. Now how did you find yourself out on Bray Road yesterday evening.”

“A couple of my friends from school said they saw the beast. We wanted to find it, take pictures and I don’t know… get some money for it? I don’t believe in this type of stuff but-…” He paused, his hands tightening into fists.

“But now you do?” Mulder asked.

“Look, I’ve seen bears and wolves. That thing wasn’t either of those. That thing wouldn’t let us leave the road. It circled us. Picked us off one by one. I got thrown into a ditch and played dead. I stayed there and passed out. I woke up in the hospital.” He recalled the night before.

“The officers said that you were saying a word when you were found. Repeating it actually. You were saying “field” over and over again.”

“I mean, we were right by a field. That’s the only thing I could think of.”

Mulder’s cell phone began ringing in his pocket. He handed Mrs. Mulligan his business card, “Call us if he remember anything else.” He made his way back into the hallway and answered his phone.

“Mulder.”

—–

(Y/N) arrived at the coroner’s office and was led back to the autopsy facility. Dr. Andrea Sherman was the doctor beginning the procedure. Dr. Sherman got scrubbed in and began speaking.

“We’ve pieced together about five bodies. Or what’s left of them. This is the body that’s mostly intact.” She motioned to the body on the table covered in a blue sheet. Dr. Sherman pulled the top of it away revealing the head and torso of Zeke Bruins according to the tag on his toe. His left arm was torn to shreds by the creature’s claws. His right arm, seemingly torn off. The doctor began her physical examination of the body.

“I think this is pretty open and shut.” Dr. Sherman began, “We’ve had a few bear sitting recently. These kids were just there at the wrong place and the wrong time. Probably just a mother defending her cubs.”

“But it’s only October, cubs aren’t usually born until January.” (Y/N) said without thinking, like the words just flew from their mouth. The doctor looked up from the corpse and eyed them.

“I suppose.” She squinted through her safety goggles, “By the way, are you from around here? You look really familiar.”

(Y/N) shook their head, “Nope, just have one of those faces.”

“Well anyway, rabid bear, black bear, the rare grizzly, it’s probably nothing-” She stopped mid sentence, “What the…”

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked. Dr. Sherman was staring into the arm socket of the boy, she took a pair of tweezers. With a little effort, she jerked free something that was embedded in the bone. She dropped it in a metal bowl.

“Oh my god.” Dr. Sherman said. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and their eyes widened. It was a human tooth. Their stomach dropped and their heart leapt into their throat.

“Could you sent the xrays to the field office in Quantico?” The doctor nodded, “Good. I’ll be in touch.” They made their way out the door and called agent Mulder. He picked up in the first few rings.

“Mulder.”

“It’s (Y/L/N). Listen, one of the victims had a tooth embedded in his shoulder blade.”

“A bear tooth?” He asked.

“No, a human tooth. But that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, (Y/L/N) the human jaw is capable of biting off our fingers like a carrot, whose to say it can’t be lodged into your bone?” There was just a hint of humor is his voice.

“It’s impossible. The wounds sustained by the victims can’t be human. The average strength of our jaws are at about one hundred sixty pounds per square inch. The force that it would take to do this damage would have to be over two thousand.”

“I have a hunch. I’m meeting up with a local journalist on the case can you meet me there?”

—-

The address agent Mulder gave them was to a small townhouse closer to downtown. They parked in the driveway behind Mulder’s rental and met him on the porch where he seemed to already be talking with the journalist.

“Speak of the devil,” He smiled, “this is agent (Y/L/N).” (Y/N) met the pair and extended their hand to meet the woman’s.

“Linda Godfrey, a pleasure.” They shook her hand. Linda smiled at them.

“Have we met? I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu.” She said.

(Y/N) shook their head, “Nope. Sorry.”

“Well, like I was telling your partner, back in 1991, I started working for The Week which is the local paper for the county. We were just getting siting after siting. So I started compiling and unraveling. I’m actually writing a book about it, I’m going to call it: The Beast of Bray Road: Tailing Wisconsin’s Werewolf!”

“So you think the beast is a werewolf?” Mulder asked, looking somewhat pleased.

“Well, I don’t know what else it would be. From the descriptions given that could be the only possibility. I even have the testimonies of the only survivor from the attack in the seventies.” Linda said excitedly.

“The survivor was a little kid, it was dark and they were scared. I don’t believe any testimony they give would be accurate. It’s the power of suggestion, this child lives in a town that makes its revenue from a cryptid like mothman or the Jersey devil.” (Y/N) rationalized.

“Even if that were true, Agent (Y/L/N), it’s all we have to go on. The child was placed with family in another state.” Linda said, “Now, if you would like, I could get you a copy of my research and all the evidence I have. You just have to promise to not let a single soul see it.”

“Cross our hearts.” Mulder made a crossing motion with his finger over the left side of his jacket coat.

“Well, come on in.” The agents followed Ms. Godfrey into her home. There were met by endless imagery of wolves and bears on almost every wall, figurines on the coffee table.

“I’ll be right back.” She said, leaving them in the living room.

“I never told you her name.” Mulder said, bending down to look at a figurine of a bear fishing.

“Huh?” They said, mind taken away from the portrait of a wolf howling at the moon.

“When I called you over here I never told you what the journalist’s name was. But you recalled it like it was someone you knew.” His green eyes seemed to look into their soul and to the core of their subconscious. They avoided eye contact, chewing on the inside of their lip.

“Look, Agent (Y/L/N), if you want me to trust you then you need to tell me what’s really going on here.” He said. They stood in silence for what seemed like forever. That is until Linda Godfrey came back with a stand of files.

“Here we are!”

-

Back at the hotel, Mulder had been in his room reading through the files that he had been gifted. Every first hand account of the creature. When he got to the killings in seventy-four he stopped. The name of the child from the case had the same first name as his partner, nothing strange about that. A coincidence more than anything. But that made him think. If he could find this person, who would be around his age at this point, maybe he could convince them to undergo regression hypnosis. He placed a call to the bureau to try and get the adoption records and went next door to share the findings.

-

A knock at the door pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They hadn’t even realized the tears that were trailing done their face until then.

“Come in!” They called. The door opened and Mulder appeared in the doorway. He came inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I was looking through the records and I think the kid from the accident is our best bet of finding this thing. I got in contact with the bureau and they’re uncovering the adoption records.

“That won’t be necessary.” They said, finally meeting his eyes.

“And why’s that?” He asked. After taking a good look at them, he sat besides them on the bed, “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.” They paused, choking on back sobs. They cleared their throat and laughed a little.

“Mulder, it’s me. I was the child in the car.”

—–

Yay! Part 2! I’m really happy with how this is coming our so far. Thank you for reading!

Part 3 here!

Also just in case anyone is interested: Linda Godfrey is a real person who actually wrote a book about the Beast of Bray road. I only dramatized her for the sake of the story.

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