#i draw this guy more than the actual kid who the tag belongs to

[rogdona]

[always-just-red]

@irandial and @micasosa34 requested a Rafayel version of this fic, so here it is!! This is a loose sequel, but mostly a spin-off? Also an emotional rollercoaster, sorry! (I fear I put too much of myself in this one, guys... there will be no beating the 'oh you are ACTUALLY in love with this man' allegations after this.....)

Fourth Wall (Rafayel Ver.)

Rafayel x Player!Reader 🔥

(Previous part/Sylus version here!)

Summary: You didn't think Rafayel would let you walk around an art gallery all by yourself, did you?

Genre: Angst! This is my revenge for the claw machine debacle (Checkmate, Rafayel!!! But also I'm sorry and I love you)

Warnings/Additional tags: player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, one instance of swearing

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You made it through about two rooms of the gallery before thinking about Rafayel.

You stand in front of a dark seascape: a night sky and a symmetrically black ocean framing the plight of a small fishing boat, adrift in the centre. The moon casts a pale, faraway light, and an orange lantern glows, drawing colour from the oppressive darkness— deep blues, and rich, shimmering turquoise, crested with white.

It should evoke some feeling of smallness, some respect for the vast indifference of the natural world, but no— your mind is set on the fictional artist who lives in your phone.

What would he think about it? What would he have to say?

At the moment, you suspect it would be some remark about how you should get your own opinion, rather than piggybacking his.

Still, it gives you an idea. You glance around self-consciously as you draw out your phone and earphones— tucking the latter into your ears as you offer a curt smile to the nearby gallery attendant. You’re not breaking any rules by loading up Love and Deepspace, but it feels slightly ridiculous in a place like this: full of real and honest things where you’re somehow lonely.

You log-in with a tap. “Let’s go to the beach,” Rafayel greets, his voice as warm as sunshine that melts a cold morning haze. “I never get tired of seeing the sunset there.”

You smile more sincerely, tousling his hair, but then it’s straight to business. You drag him into the AR Photobooth, directing him through a few poses until you find one you like: a duo pose. His fingers are meant to be around your chin, but without you, he seems to be pointing. Perfect, you shift— tilting your phone until the painting sits behind him.

He’s winking at you as he gestures to it, his face and body as still as marble.

You’re about to take the picture when a not-so-distant conversation strikes up, making you glance backwards. Another visitor is asking the attendant about a painting, and you lower your phone’s volume a notch so you can eavesdrop on them.

“This is one of Turner’s earliest paintings, y’know? He was young when he painted it. Like, super young.”

You freeze. The attendant and the visitor aren’t standing by a Turner painting; you are. Your gaze snaps back to your phone, drawn by the familiarity of the voice.

Rafayel’s turned away from you. He’s staring at the painting, one hand on his hip and the other up by his face, stroking his chin. He’s swaying on his feet gently, his head tilting as he takes in different parts of the seascape.

“You gonna take the picture, cutie?” he asks, glancing back at you with a knowing grin.

Your lips have parted slightly in surprise, but your finger manages to find the photo button. Rafayel returns to his candid observations just in time for your screen to flicker, mimicking a camera flash. 

“Ok, one more.” He turns around and settles into a new pose. You take another photo. “Nice,” he beams, “you’ll send those to me later, yeah?”

But you can’t—

“Relax, ok? I’m kidding. Now come on,” he pokes at the edge of your screen like a mime trapped by an invisible box. “Move this thing! I wanna see what else they’ve got here.”

You do move, but not to show him around. He gets a blurry view of the floor as you hurry over to a nearby bench, sinking down with a sigh because you can’t believe this is happening— again. With a few taps of your finger, you draw the curtains on Rafayel’s view to your world and return him to his.

“No, no, no! What?” he groans in disbelief, suddenly back in the Destiny Café. He throws himself into the armchair with reckless abandon— limbs sprawled— one hand over his face as though it would pain him to look on anything at all. “You find out I’m self-aware and the first thing you do is drag me back here? Where’s your heart? Your empathy? Your soul?”

You poke at his hand and he swats at the air like you’re bothering him.

“Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m busy, like, contemplating the futility of my existence?”

So dramatic! You consider closing the app out of spite, but this is Rafayel. You know Rafayel; look past the theatrics. It’s been, what— just over a month since Sylus first told you he’d seen through all of this? He said the others were lagging behind, but maybe…

Maybe they weren’t.

Shit. Maybe they weren’t.

You watch Rafayel, sunken down in one of two places you’ve seen him inhabit every day, every night, for almost a year. This café isn’t different from the old in any way that matters. Sylus is new but Rafayel has been here from the very beginning. So many more days. So many more nights.

How long has he known?

He lifts his hand, just enough to peer in your direction. You’ve not closed the app. You’re not poking at him anymore. He sits up straighter in the chair, both hands in his lap, and he looks at them pensively. Maybe even remorsefully.

“You’re thinking about what it all means, huh? Don’t.” It’s a command, but it’s soft. Then softer, a: “Please?”

Your breath catches— oh— he’s known for a long time, hasn’t he? You lean back against the gallery wall, grounding yourself as you text him an emoji: a chick bursting out of its shell with question marks over its head.

He pulls out his phone. Sees it. “Why?” he translates with a melancholic chuckle.

Yeah. You tickle his head. Why?

He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess… I didn’t want you to feel bad?”

You text another emoji and he glances down at it, then laughs more loudly: “I’m a dummy? Check a mirror, cutie— isn’t it you who’s been walking around thinking Mister Wannabe Vampire is the only one smart enough to figure this all out? Puh-lease.”

He laughs even more at his own joke— maybe to fill the quiet and the fact that he can’t hear you laughing with him. It peters out like it inevitably must, and like it always does. He goes still.

“Can’t you show me around, even a little?” he asks.

No.

You feel bad, you do, but you can’t start living for him. This is your world; if you invite him in now, when does it stop? You already spend too much time with your head down, lost in your phone. You were walking through a gallery and thinking about him, remember? Art is supposed to make you think about something real.

No, you text him: a crow holding a sign with a big, red cross. It’s too abrupt, but there’s not an emoji for “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Rafayel’s face falls further as he checks his phone, his eyes like the ocean in the painting across the room: lit by a weak, failing little light. He looks to you, even though he can’t see you. “Please?”

You don’t move.

“Please,” he tries again, “just this once— this once. Is that so much to ask?”

You’ve used up your three means of answering him.

He scoffs in dismay, alone in the silence of everything you can’t say— you couldn’t say— even if you were really with him and the distance between you was merely invented. How could you go to him, hold his face in your hands and tell him the truth: that you care, but not enough?

Here, now: the quiet confesses it for you.

Rafayel stands from his seat, taking a step closer, his gaze dark. You can see his eyes more clearly; that lantern is at the bottom of the sea, with the rest of the ship and everyone on board. “Do you know what my life is?” he asks, and the silence has become his ally, punctuating his every word so it can cut more deeply. “My life’s an empty café, a book with blank pages and a phone that won’t ring.”

The curtains behind him move softly with a superficial breeze, lit by a superficial sun.

“The only thing that’s real,” he says, “is you.”

You feel like the breath’s been knocked from your lungs.

You can’t resent him for it. He could have drowned you from the start, could have dragged you under a weight of responsibility, but he didn’t, and that’s Rafayel: always tempering himself into something less lethal. He’s been so still for you. So silent for you.

Your mind is wrapped in a vow you made him— one you’ve been unconsciously breaking— and you’re going to break it again, knowingly, wilfully this time, because you want him like this: angry.

You promised, didn’t you? I will never make Rafayel wait for me.

He’s always been waiting, and you want him to stop.

You close the app, muting your phone when notifications start coming through: a squall of frustration, pleading, and frantic apologies. You tuck all of it into your pocket and stand, wandering back to the painting that started it all so you can look at it differently.

Something real to think about. Something real.

You stare at a black ocean and think about him.

…

Rafayel isn’t talking to you.

It’s been a week since your ‘breakup’— dubbed gleefully as such by Sylus— and you load up the game to find your artist slumped back in his armchair, his book over his face. A week of him sitting down, cross-legged and armed, during the Deepspace Trials you’d set out to clear with him. A week of him hogging the Claw Machine, and missing every rare plushie with a sarcastic ‘oops’.

The worst part is that you’ve missed him. You’d tried replaying the kindled moments from his five-star memories, but he’d made you regret it. In Sparkling Traces, he’d summed up his feelings in a very… colourful drawing. Omnipotent Perception: he’d slipped deeper into the bathwater, a blush on his face as he avoided your gaze and murmured something about you ‘having some nerve.’

Now, you can’t even call him over to you. You poke at the book on his face, once, twice, then repeatedly until it slips, but his hands shoot up to catch it. He holds it in place.

Ugh. If he would just—

You drum away at the book more vivaciously, but his grip is solid. Plan B, then: you open your in-game messages and send an emoji instead. Rafayel stirs, one hand moving to his pocket and the other lifting the book so he can peek down at his phone. “What— you tryna bribe me now?”

He’s looking at grumpy crow holding out a present: a bundle of shiny, red gems. His translation is spot-on, as per usual, and you reward it by poking at his chest. He frowns down at the contact, then sits up, rolling his eyes as he tosses the book over his shoulder.

“This better be good,” he yawns, standing up and stretching with a listlessness that could only be described as cat-like, however much he’d whine about the comparison.

Having won his attention— and begrudging consent— you navigate your way to the AR Photobooth. Rafayel stares at you from within the frame: an unwitting subject of a portrait he doesn’t yet understand, but he soon will. You smile as he turns cautiously to regard his backdrop.

Behind him, the ocean laps at a shore of pale sand and stretches into the horizon, where the sun lazily dips. There’s about half of it left, turning the sky a blurred palette of orange and pink that’s spilled over the water. Clouds are few and dark purple, their linings aglow.

Rafayel’s folded arms have dropped to his sides. After a few, long seconds, he gazes back in your direction, eyes wide with surprise before they soften with a radiant smile.

“You—” he starts, and it could be something as light as a joke or as deep as a soliloquy. You’ll never know, because he doesn’t put it to words. He glances at the ocean again. Then at you. “Thanks,” he settles for.

You chuckle. There’s not many ways you can answer without tearing him away from the sunset and trapping him back in the café, so you stay sitting still. It’s a different silence than a week ago. There are things unsaid, but that’s ok— they’re the sort you don’t need to speak aloud, anyway.

Your shoes are set aside by your feet so you can feel the sand, still warm beneath your toes. You wiggle them into it, gazing out over the ocean as the evening breeze catches and plays with your hair, and the last of the sun trails over your skin. You stare out at where it’s sinking.

Rafayel moves, and your focus meanders back to your phone. He’s walking away from you, gradually— retreating further into the composition you’ve created, just for him. He looks as though he’s nearing the shore, but it’s cosmetic: there are no footprints in the sand. His hair isn’t moved by the same breeze, and his face isn’t gilded by the same light.

He stops by the ocean’s edge and crouches gently, mesmerised by the push and pull of the tide. Slowly, humbly, he reaches out a hand and lowers his fingers towards the water; they never slip beneath the surface, and they don’t stir a ripple.  

Rafayel laughs, masking an undertow of sadness, but not disappointment. “It’s funny,” he says, still sketching invisible, ineffectual shapes. “Loving the ocean as much as I do, and knowing… knowing I’ll never touch it.”

He’s all the way over there, but his voice is in your ears, so intimately close. You swallow an ache.

He looks up at you. Smiles: “Y’know what I mean?”

You’re using memories to complete the picture: His hair, mussed by the summer breeze that day you stood amongst the cherry blossoms. His face, painted by the sunset of a different life, where you’d roamed a desert together. In each and every moment, his eyes are the same, just as they are now: kindled by a tender, tentative fire.

“Yeah, Raf,” you say to yourself— just yourself. “I know what you mean.”

[haircoveredwriter]

Caryl going forward in S2

Now that the season is over, I've had a chance to collect my thoughts on the direction I think they are looking to go for S2 and I am even more convinced everything we've seen was linked and deliberately choreographed to highlight the upcoming Caryl payoff. This includes the season as a whole as well as the finale and the Book of Carol promo. I'm going tag it but keep in mind this discussion will assume things from having watched the season finale and contain spoilers as such, so you have been warned.

It's a known fact at this point Daryl's intent on going home. The man is on a mission. He wants to get the kid to where he needs to go, then he wants a radio to contact home or a boat to get him there. Regardless of whatever anyone said to him or deceptive manipulation attempts used the man stayed steadfast in his desire. And while he may have begun to care about Laurent over the season, at each turn brought forth by various others; Isabelle (multiple times), Fallou, Azlan, Laurent, and Lasong, Daryl once again repeated himself like the looped tape recorded message he made in episode 1.

They've also made it abundantly clear through parallels, name dropping, and actual conversations/on screen appearance that for Daryl, Carol is his home. Nothing could have personified this better than the scene we got with Sylvie in the car. She asked if he had ever been in love ... words we have only ever heard him fathom to mention to anyone except Carol; his distant gaze and physical reaction all we'd need to see to know who he was thinking about. IMO there is no other option. If they had truly wanted to do any ship baiting their chance to do so was sitting in the damn backset and it would have taken nothing but a change in camera angle to do so. They didn't because it isn't ... the focus and end point is/has always been Caryl. (That is all I am going to say on this because my focus is Caryl). The tag line plastered across the season 2 promo of "To find home is to find each other" both confirms this as the plotline's intent as well as stands in direct contrast to everything everyone tried to convince Daryl of in the finale. He may listen to Isabelle and Lasong but neither were effective in changing his mind because it was never a possibility.

Daryl wants to go back to Carol.

Now I don't believe for a second Lasong has no other motives besides "nurturing the next messiah" which he proved by trying to guilt Daryl into staying at the Nest. He reminds me of the overly religious zealot in The Mist, putting on a nice act until shit hits the fan and what others want goes against their objective. These are the very same kind of tactics Isabelle has been using from the beginning - either admitting to faking the ocean drawing and then her abhorrent attempt to imply Daryl was abandoning Laurent like his grandfather did to his family. Newsflash guys, Daryl is only a "father figure" to Laurent because YOU made him so with lies and with-holding the truth before Daryl ever got there. The only way anyone in France can seem to grasp changing his mind is to resort to lying or low blows which only serves to lessen the strength of their stance, and thankfully Daryl saw through it each time. (Props to & exclusion from this crappy sect goes to Fallou because he seems to be the only one listening).

All of this would have been great by itself and I was in LOVE with TBOC promo beforehand but it got even better post finale watch. "I don't know if this is the place I'm supposed to be." The voiceover gives me the impression that after being forced by fate to stay in France and not let Laurent be the latest walker snack, Daryl still isn't buying the whole where you find yourself might be your home line. He's still worried about Carol, still possibly field the ever constant questions from Izzy about "maybe he belongs in France". (I'm really getting tired of hearing that from her ... no means no, woman). This line from Daryl in itself shows that we are continuing with the shows main constant. Daryl Dixon wants to go home. He's not staying to make a new family, he's not forgetting about the people who matter most to him. The man is stuck and literally being fucked over by fate at every turn.

I have theories about how the Laurent managed to track Daryl down to the beach and none of them are good for other characters but fall in line with what they have done in the past - we'll leave those under a pin for now. None of the characters are named fate lol.

Take away for season 1 and heading in to season 2, Daryl wants to go home and looks to continue his search on ways to get himself there. Luckily for him, home (Carol) is in the process of making that trip shorter.

[murkystarlight]

DREAMZzz S2 spoilers pt.2

(And my personal comments)

Okay- I lost all progress once. But this time it'll be fine. Right? Anyways... I lost my energy so I'm going to make it a bit more shorter and brief....

Starting off with the sirens. Can we appreciate that glossy tail?? We need them as figurines ASAP.

Izzie and Cooper suffering

I like the sticky hand Mateo makes. Probably the best one he made during his... *I miss z-blob phase*

And- have I mentioned the opening song before?? Cause it's really nice

RIP Sandman... where did he go??😭

I personally loved all the ✨family drama✨ in this season (also, poor Izzie that keeps thinking she forgot stuff she doesn't actually know. Must be really confusing)

And do they not know that their parents got divorced? I mean... they gotta be divorced, right?

(Did anyone hear Mr. Oz grumbling while he took out the dreamy-screamy?)

Cooper, not having any knowledge on tech giving an idea for using a Lumi-Caster, that's used for making light, while they're in broad daylight? Sad. But adorable

Why do they have headphones in the library? For kids who have trouble with the noise?

Zoey winking? And mentioning Way of the departed?? Then she punches a siren in the face???

(Logan needs more appreciation)

Dallas is doing a great job knitting

Throws headphones, lands on their heads perfectly

"Woah-"

Also, they almost get eaten. EATEN. By the sirens!? We need angst art on this👍

"Remember, DO IT QUIETLY" (he's Dumbledore) ((what color can I give mr oz? This is the only one left so))

Cooper stressing out from not being able to turn on a computer- he's losing brain cells, oh god... and he got a temper like have you seen Mateo and Zoey's face? Shocked

Mrs. Castillo is the best

(Oh~ then we must go north!)

Why are their colors the same? In the last season when they went through the rift the colors were like... faded and... dreamy

"The fantasy realm? Sirens dont belong here!" (That's a bit mean- be like Cooper->) "well, they have to be somewhere, don't they?"

Or preferably. Like Zoey

"I hope they don't eat anyone though"

Why did Mateo tell Logan to play his song before they left the rift?? Or- at least when they're a little bit closer to the rift?

Cooper was badass with that frying pan.

We got a new

Rapunzel

He looks so happy when he tagged the ravennn (the wacky-tracky looks like it resembles a bird. Don't you think? Or... is it just me..?)

aughhhh my heart

(He also seems really down, he says so himself that "if I do one thing right today, please be this" he needs help y'alll)

José and Jasmin look so happy togethr

And Mateo got over his mom a teenie weenie bit "we're all just figuring it out, right?"

(Sounds a bit...🏳️‍🌈) just saying! Don't take any of what I'm saying seriously

Episode 4

Logan's song. Let's see the good parts I found-

Mateo singing along and dancing(and being mad about it- btw, the z-blob drawing right in front of Mateo when he wakes up has got to be one of the cutest drawings yet). Zoey, Cooper, Mr. Oz and Albert dancing

Now-

Why can't they be supporting? I mean... okay.. maybe it's a bit weird (and I thought it was a bit weird too- especially when the other guy suddenly got so popular just as fast as Logan) but he's your friend?? Is it that surprising that Logan have fans? ....yeah.. okay, maybe?

(Also, Logan can do splits??)

Uh- I just noticed, Izzie has pickles on her lunch plate. Like- a full sized pickle! That's pretty much all she has on her plate

But Zoey. That was kinda mean- you... you were more than harsh

✨Sparkles✨

They really tried to make us belive that Jasmin is a witch or smth- but! I know my cliches. And at this situation? She's definitely just a normal person(and I was right)

Does Logan's beast crafting only work with his anger? I remember seeing a cool artwork with Logan using it with other emotions. Maybe later if he develops his powers?? Or.. something similar?

Why does some people only think of dancing and some people can keep thinking 'what the- why can't I stop??' And all that(like Zoey still complained)

Rupert Finneas Shufflebottom Oswald

How did Mateo and Izzie get up in a tree??

Cooper looks so darn cute!! Look at his smile! So precious

He looks... genuinely happy. Like... has he really been losing brain cells?

When Logan has his head down, the mouth animations looked really cool(also, I love the captions. Logan's official name as the blue gremlin is Lo-lo)

Zian and the frog cab is also dancing! Cute

"A lizard person from planet Sikoria!"

"And- why are we sitting on mrs. Castillo's food truck?"

"I don't want dad to hurt like I'm hurting right now.." such- a good kid

Is it just me or did Cooper really, actually get more laid-back than before??

Oh- so Logan is the tech guy now?

Logan looks so sad-

Well Zoey. You tried. It wasn't a bad apology, but.... not the best.

And Logan with a new instrument??

Episode 5

We need info! Why is the Never witch so mad?!!

But seriously- her incantations are just... really nice

Really sad that Izzie can't remember Phil...

Hate Royce

Cooper being...

Rebellious

Phil being the best wingman ever-

(The hug.... Phil- oh god)

"Coop, did you mess with this thing?"

"No, why?"

"Just wondering if you broke it"

"Wow."

The raven was being happy and cute making it's nest... aww

I like how Izzie keeps repeating what she did the first time(like trying to fly)

"Oh! Try asking it to lead us to the witch!"

"[Laughs].... oh, you're serious"

Oh right! The Grimm spawn disguise! We have a new costume now~

Logan's moms being bird ladies and everyone staring at Logan like he's gone mad

Izzie still doing the Naruto run

"We're close"

"Uh- close to what?"

"Her"

Yup. He's losing brain cells...

And that one scene when they retrieve their memories?(kinda). Oh..... boy

Cooper you poor thing! Nooooooo

I was very happy when I heard the sound of glass shattering. And.. why was it so sad?? They do not have the right to make it seem so sad

But like- even though this is great. Love the angst and all...(he barely got to be sad about it? He barely showed it) I hope Cooper gets his tech powers back. He can be a chef, and a tech guy. Like that show on Netflix! Baking impossible? I think it was? Making functioning cakes. But maybe the whole "tech guy" thing was like... a fence for him? He only thinks of things in that way. Maybe that's why he was the most closed(least creative) person at first. But now he's out of that boundary. And he does look like he's being more care-free and seems more brighter? (...in case you haven't noticed yet. He's my favorite character. He's going to take up about... half of the space in my rambling;;)

Zoey's past!

That was dark. Like... really cool though

I love how Izzie gets her memories back!

The armor coming together? Coool

Inspector Strick actually helping them??

Previous part , next part

[joaquinwhorres]

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Happy Little Accidents

Part Two: Hope

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,317

Warnings: I don’t think there is any?? Crying/light angst, adoption process, stress??

Request: Yes

Summary: You work on getting you little girl back. And hope that it’s successful.

A/N: It’s been a long time coming, I haven’t proof read it or anything (but when do I ever? Lol), so bare that in mind.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

Being a pair of Avengers and going through the adoption process was so very complicated.

On one hand, you were well known across the globe. Household names.

But on the other. You were dangerous people, with violent past's -and futures to come- with more enemies than you could count. Some of which you didn't even know existed. And who in their right minds would ever let a child into that environment? People have been turned down for much less.

However.

You were basically celebrity's. And as everyone knows, that comes with a lot of special treatment. Even if you and Natasha -And most of, if not all of your team- denied to use any of it. But in this case? For little Hope? You would do whatever you had to.

So, it was thanks to that, that you were even allowed to be considered for adoption.

And there was so much work that had to be done.

Papers to sign, meetings to attend, visits and screenings every which way. And so much more.

It was a long and tedious journey. And you still had a long way to go.

Right now, you had to watch as someone picked apart your home -once again- to make sure it was okay for your little girl to come home. Where she belongs.

You had moved not too long ago, maybe a little over two months, and in that time, it had been looked at three times. Which really made it seem like you weren't doing anything, in their eyes, considering you were busy working and renovating the whole place out at the same time.

The day after you and Natasha had to say goodbye to Hope, you knew that you had to get a bigger place than the apartment you had both shared. And began looking for new homes the very same day.

Tony's help wasn't needed, you had plenty of money, but he insisted. So when you two found a townhouse that you absolutely adored, not too far from SHIELD HQ -where you both now worked most of the time. As when Fury found out that you were both to be adopting Hope- or trying to at least, the man lowered your hours and took you off missions altogether. Just until you were all settled-, the billionaire bought it for you, the moment he got wind of it.

You were moved in three days later. Deciding to work on the house while you lived there.

"So, where would the child be sleeping?" Your caseworker asked.

"Oh, right this way," you said, leading her down the hall to the newly decorated bedroom. Natasha following behind.

You gestured to the light pink, yet slightly sparse room. "This is it."

"We still have to pick up some of the furniture. But we've been waiting for the room to be decorated first," Natasha said, excusing the bare room.

"Yeah, Hope's not going to sleep on a stack of paint cans," you tried to joke. To which you barely got a smile from your caseworker, Stephany Halla.

"It look's decorated to me?"

"Oh." Natasha smiled. "We're having a friend of ours paint a mural or two on the walls."

"Yeah, Hope has a few favourite Avengers, so he's gonna paint them. And he's been learning how to draw cartoon characters for it, too."

"He's actually trying to adopt the two kids he took in with his fiance."

"Steve Rogers?" Stephany asked.

"That's the guy," you said, nodding along with Natasha.

"I've seen him around the office," She spoke again a few moments later. "So, when are you planning on getting the furniture for the room?"

"Hopefully, within a month," Natasha replied, "But with our and Steve's schedules, things are up in the air."

It was a difficult start to the adoption process, more so than it was now. Considering that the children legally didn't exist to the world. So, everything was so confusing and thrown up into the air while waiting for the kids to be registered.

Almost like you didn't know whether you were coming or going. Everything stuck in limbo as you waited to see what kind of adoption process you would have to take. And even with all of your connections in the world, you were still left in the dark.

There was the fact that the kids were found overseas in Romania, so they could be considered Romanian. And so, you would have to go through international adoption.

However, none of the children have birth parents and were brought to America because you had rescued them. So, some would say they could be considered immigrants.

Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Babies that had been grown in a lab and saved from a further torturous life, that now needed legalization in the world's eyes.

You and Natasha had to watch as Government's essentially fought over these children you saved. Over the same child, you clothed and fed. The one you played games with and bonded with the little girl you grew to love and consider your own.

So, as the world fought for the right of your child, your little Hope, you waited. Just wishing and wanting to bring your daughter home.

But, luckily for you, the children were now classed as American citizens. Which made it ten times easier for you to adopt than it would otherwise.

Which is honestly just crazy to you, considering just how intensely hard this is.

There were times you didn't believe you could ever adopt your child.

On more than one occasion, Natasha would come to you, saddened to her core, because she truly believed that you would never have Hope in your family.

It was so fucking hard.

Natasha had rolled over one night after you two had -once again- gone through the rules and regulations of adopting. Uttering how you were, "Never going to get her back" that there was "Juts no way, they will let us adopt", as she cried into your arms.

But still, the process continued.

"Well, your home seems to be in good standing. So for. But I advise you to get the furniture for the child's room as soon as possible," Stephane commented as she began packing up her belongings and paperwork.

"Oh, we know."

"Steve did say that he was going to start work on it in the next few days," Natasha added, nodding along with you.

"Well, that's is good news." Stephane smiled. "I'll see you at our next meeting with Hope."

Natasha sighed happily. "We can't wait."

"Well, goodbye then."

You whished the dirty-blonde woman farewell, closing the door behind her.

"We get to see our daughter in a couple of weeks," your red-headed girlfriend said excitedly, dancing from side to side out of pure happiness. Her bright smile filling your soul with warmth, that travelled all the way into your bones.

You matched her emotions, hands coming to curve around her shoulder blades and pulling her close to you.

"I know, Honey. It's been so long since we've seen her. And we're gonna bring her home one day."

That was all you could say before your mouth was covered, with the crushing feeling of Natasha's plump lips against yours.

***

Nerves rattled through you, but you hadn't the faintest idea why, considering this wasn't the first time you had seen Hope. However, it had been one of the first times you were able to see her since the day she was taken away from you.

If you thought you were bad.

Natasha was far worse.

She was practically shaking. From nerves or excitement, you didn't know. But you had a good inkling to think that it was both.

You had done so much for this child in the short span of time you had known her.

And yet, you couldn't imagine your life any other way. The thought of how your life had been that time last year.

No Hope. Surrounded by missions and work. Every free moment you had was spent with Natasha, and the rag-tag group of hero's you had grown to call your family.

It all seemed so foreign now.

Like a past life.

'Wow', you thought, 'Maybe I really am growing up'.

A part of you was afraid that the girl you thought of as your daughter wouldn't recognise you or your []. And would be scared of the two strangers that had just barged their way into her life. Breaking both of your heart's.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Was the thing that greeted you, as soon as the door had swung open. Making you realise just how stupid your train of thought really was.

Natasha rushed forward, scooping the girl up into her arms, with a bright smile upon both of their faces.

"So, I still don't get a name, huh?" you joked, walking over to the reuniting girls.

Brushing a hand over Hope's short hair. Grinning when she reached her arms towards you, ready to give you a hug of your own, which you gratefully accepted.

"Don't worry," Natasha said, rubbing Hope's back as she hugged you, "You'll get a name soon."

"I better. Or else I'm gonna have ta tickle it out of her."

Hope's squeals reached your ears as you threateningly poked her side with your fingers.

"Here, baby. I'll save you," Natasha called, pulling the giggling girl from your arms. Both of them watching as you pulled your hand's in front of your face, wiggling the fingers almost spookily as them. The girls turned to each other, "They're silly."

Then they walked away.

With you calling after them.

"Hey! I may be silly, but-... I have no rebuttal!"

Natasha laughed at this, then greeted the care worker that was patiently waiting for you both. The one that you had only just noticed.

"Hello, Stephany," Natasha said in greeting, shaking the woman's hand. You following suit.

"Hey. How have you two been?"

"Missing this little one," Natasha replied, bouncing the girl on her waist. Receiving fun-filled giggles in return.

"I bet you have. And you, Y/N?"

"Exhausted," you told her honestly, "With moving house and everything, I just want to have Hope home, then sleep for a week."

The care worker laughed at that.

"Let's hope that that's sooner rather than later, then."

Your few hour's with Hope passed faster than you ever could have imagined. You played with blocks, ate lunch, "helped" Hope colour in her haphazardly filled colouring book. You absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up, and she started dancing and flailing her arms when she saw bubbles for the first time. You almost couldn't continue blowing them because of your bright smile.

And now you were watching as Natasha spoke gently to the little girl. Hope's hand's resting on the red-heads cheeks, watching her mother with such concentrating eyes.

You adored your little family.

You just wished you could have them all home.

'One day', you thought, 'one day'.

Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

Just like the last time.

And the time before that.

And the time before that.

And the one before that.

It just got harder and harder each and every time you did this.

Hope was crying. And so was Natasha, albeit silently, as she tried to console the toddler.

"I know, my little love, I know-"

"Mommy!" Hope cried.

"I know, angel. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"Mommy!"

"I know."

Once in the car, you let your tears fall, Natasha sobbing in the seat beside you.

"I don't think I can keep on doing this anymore," you admitted. Deciding it was best you explained when Natasha turned to look at you, an incredulous look upon her face, "Keep on seeing her, and not being able to bring her home."

"We'll get there," your [] reached over the centre console to squeeze your hand, "We will. You're the one who's always saying that we've got to take after her namesake and have hope."

"But it almost seems endless, Nat."

"I know, honey." She wetly kissed your tear-stained cheek. Her lips, brushing against it as she continued, "We'll bring her home. I just know it."

"I hope you're right."

***

She was right.

Of course, she was right.

She was Natasha Romanoff, after all.

It was like she just had this inability to be wrong.

But in this case? You were so fucking happy about that.

Granted it had taken a while longer -a good eight months- but finally, you were here.

Exiting the courthouse with Hope in your arms, and Natasha by your side. Bright smiles upon all of your faces, about to take the little girl- Your daughter home.

You would never have to say goodbye to her, like that, ever again.

She was legally a part of your family now. And nothing would ever change that.

"Ready to go home, sweetpea?" Natasha asked the beaming girl.

"I don't know about you," you started, "But I think this deserves celebratory ice cream."

"I think you just want ice cream before dinner."

You gave an overdramatic gasp.

"Why I would never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

Natasha laughed at your antics but nonetheless nodded her head.

"I agree. This does deserve celebratory ice cream."

"Yes!" you exclaimed happily to Hope, your free arm raising above your head in victory, making the girl copy you by raising both of her arms.

She was already taking after you.

Your red-headed girlfriend sighed dreamily after you, as you chanted, "Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" On your way to the car.

She couldn't remember a time where she was this happy.

It had been a long time since then.

And Natasha just couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life would bring with the two of you now by her side.

***

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,

SFW Tag list: 

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

[littlesmartart]

Leverage AU thoughts

okay so I wanted to keep the worldbuilding for the AU in that specific photoset relatively short for the sake of how the post worked, but I've seen a lot of questions in the tags so here is some more information for you all, under the cut because it got LONG:

MORALITY: okay so I called this the "(sort of) Leverage AU" because it basically flips the Leverage concept of "criminals work together with one non-criminal for the greater good" into "one criminal persuades a bunch of non-criminals that law =/= morality and that sometimes to make sure the bad guys get justice you have to work around legality". Obviously some people are easier to persuade than others (Huaisang has always been pretty ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ about the law, but before he joins the team he insists all of his crimes have been Theoretical, and besides, pirating movies isn't real crime, da-ge, god), and some of them are a little troubled by it but have their own reasons for joining (Mingjue has a LOT of issues with it, but joins to protect Huaisang for That One Job, and then stays with the insistence that a. they don't kill anyone, b. they don't involve anyone who doesn't super deserve it, and c. that their goal is always to get evidence so the mark can be convicted and the mark is always handed over to the appropriate authorities at the end of the job. he has a little more moral flexibility than canon Mingjue because of his Complicated Past He Wants To Atone For, but he still has an incredibly strong internal moral code that he absolutely will not violate. Jiang Cheng cares more about the law in principle, rather than personally, and as soon as he sees that they can get Justice that the law can't, he's sold). Xichen has the hardest time of it; he jumps into the first job without protest because Meng Yao asks (and Meng Yao never ever asks for anything, so it... it must be important, right? And Jin Guangshan definitely deserves it). After that he has a lot of internal struggling going on, and he's usually the one in the team trying to steer them towards legal means, and going through the "correct" channels. He probably has a breakdown about it at the end of a season and spends the next season Travelling To Find Himself. He winds up coming back to the team when, on one of his travels, he watches a family he's staying with lose everything after being targeted by a conman, but because of a dirty police chief the evidence is destroyed. They refuse to take his money when he tries to help, and he realises that they only way to get them justice... is to call in the team. That's not to say he is 100% cool with everything from then on, and he definitely draws the line at certain criminal acts (stealing for the fun of it he is not okay with, for example, and he gives a Hard No on the suggestion of trying White Rabbit) but for the most part he accepts the concept of what they do as being for the greater good.

GRIFTER XICHEN: yeah it's ridiculous and implausible but hear me out... that just makes it better. Because this man is terrible at improv and can only lie when he's in character (you see that means it's not lying then, it's just ACTING) and doesn't drink and absolutely will not seduce a mark past the level of general flirting... and yet he's somehow a wildly successful grifter??? How??? I'll tell you how: he's so fucking handsome and kind and charming and cultured that pretty much everyone who meets him just... melts a little bit and, with some coaxing, gives him whatever he needs. IT'S LIKE A FREAKIN SUPERPOWER and it's absolutely ridiculous. With the added bonus that he's juuust famous enough that the average person might kind of think he looks familiar, which means he's very good at coming across like he totally belongs wherever he's seen. Of course he works here, he's been here for months... don't you recognise him?

NO WOMEN ON THE TEAM: look, in Meng Yao's defence, when he put together this team he thought it would only be for one job, he wasn't trying to future-proof it! But yes, it can sometimes be an issue if they don't have time to plan ahead, and he and Huaisang - as the most stereotypically feminine members of the team, and by far the best liars - will usually take on any female roles they need if they're in a pinch and can't call in outside help, although all of them are ready to take on roles of different genders if need be (female roles are actually the only way to persuade Huaisang to grift, and he has an extensive shoe collection for such roles that he likes to expand by billing to the company account... Meng Yao is deeply unimpressed by this).

OTHER CHARACTERS: when Meng Yao started this, he worked very very hard to keep his siblings and the rest of his family out of it, to keep them all away from any fallout in case it went wrong (and also to stop any pesky Moral Issues from getting in the way). When that was over and they started taking regular cases, he relaxed the rule a little - Mianmian will sometimes step in to help if she can be sold on how bad the person is they're taking down, Zonghui can be relied upon if they need extra muscle, and Wen Qing is their go-to Ask No Questions doctor. Wei Wuxian frequently gets roped in to consult, as, if you give him six packs of hot chips, ten cans of monster, twelve hours, and a laptop, he can become a specialist in almost anything. Jiang Cheng was very very resistant towards the idea of his brother being allowed in the team, even just as a consultant, but the MOMENT Wei Wuxian was given any access to Shenanigans there was no fucking stopping him. In the later jobs Qin Su accidentally gets pulled into one of the cons and turns out to be a WAY better grifter than anyone could have imagined, so she winds up on the "ally call list". Meng Yao is both perturbed and proud, but absolutely draws the line at teenage Mo Xuanyu being allowed to help.

PAIRINGS: flipping the "two parents + three kids" dynamic in Leverage, this AU has 3zun and Sangcheng - so "three gege + two didi". Xiyao have a One That Got Away sort of past, and Xichen joins the team SPECIFICALLY because Meng Yao expresses emotional vulnerability by asking for help fOr OnCe In HiS fUcKiNg LiFe. Nielan dated when they were teens, and are happy to be reunited, but Mingjue refuses to rekindle a romantic relationship until Xiyao sort their shit out because it's obvious to anyone with eyes how hung up on Meng Yao Xichen is. Nieyao have a certain amount of "I'll work with you towards a common cause but that doesn't mean I have to like you" vibe, but veeery slooowlyyy wind up bonding over doing stuff they're not proud of for something they were so sure was a worthy cause at the time, but now they just feel jaded and used (there's a lot of arguments along the lines of "oh, so my corporate espionage is worse than what you did in spec ops... because the military says that what you did was legal. RIGHT. OKAY. SURE."). After several years of will-they-won't-they struggle, 3zun do get together, and everyone is very relieved. As for Sangcheng... it starts off as Huaisang just flirting kind of obnoxiously with Jiang Cheng, who rolls his eyes and snarks back, and then naturally Huaisang winds up catching feelings and is like [meme voice] Haha, I'm In Danger! He is unwilling to act on his feelings because he doesn't believe that Jiang Cheng likes him that way, and continues to believe that right up until the day Jiang Cheng snaps, and grabs him and kisses him, and is like "if I didn't actually like you flirting with me I would have punched you in the face years ago" and Huaisang is like "huh. Yeah that's probably true."

[yutahoes]

Different

summary : You just wished everything was different. 

word count : 2.3k words

warning : Mention of One Night Stand and Alcohol 

genre : I don’t really know how to tag this. Fluff? Angst? Can you call this that?

taglist : @ailoveyuta​ @killmeminyoongi​ @yutazen01​ 

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Y/N woke up hearing small footsteps from outside her room and smiled to herself, she knew by heart to whom they belong. It's Sunday though, why is he up early? And why is he quietly approaching her room? Haru quietly opened the door to her room, tiptoeing to where she was sleeping, and somewhat, she's glad that she's wearing decent pajamas to sleep in last night. "Eomma," he called softly, hearing a faint rustle in the background.

The five-year-old climbed up her bed, giving his mother a hug. "Eomma, wake up," he said once again, a little louder this time that made her turn to him while slightly opening her eyes. "Happy Mother's Day, eomma." he greeted, making her smile. Is that why he's up this early?

"Good morning, my Haru." she greeted with a smile, surprised to see someone leaning by her doorway and looking at the two of them. What is Yuta Nakamoto doing here? "Did you have a nice sleep?" And the child nodded, smiling at her the same way as his father did. They really do have that same lovely smile that whenever the younger would smile, she would be reminded of Yuta.

It was a graduation after-party. She got drunk and the next thing she knew, she’s sleeping next to the almighty soccer jock, naked. Although they had few conversations before, she and Yuta were never really close. It was a mistake, she knew. But Haru is the best mistake that happened in her life. A mistake she’s sure she’ll repeat over and over again.

Her pregnancy isn’t a secret to him but he made sure that they cannot have anything more than just the mother and father of the child. It’s alright, she thought. She can even take care of her son alone but Yuta just had to enter her son’s life like this.  

Haru bounced on her bed, smiling at the man by the doorway who was carrying a plate in his hands. "Appa and I made something for you to thank you for giving birth to me and being a great eomma," he said that made her smile, surprised at the sudden eloquence. True enough, for a five-year-old, he is ahead of his classmates since he can speak fluently at age three and can converse in both his mother tongue and Japanese.

The older handed the younger a plate of pancake with chocolate syrup drawing of a heart, coffee also present by her bedside table. "This was all appa's idea," he said with a grin present on his face. "He even brought you a present."

Y/N looked at the door to see Yuta bringing in a bouquet of flowers and pink heart-shaped balloons. "I'm sorry for crashing in without your knowledge but Haru wanted this to be a surprise," he said sincerely that made the girl purse her lips in gratitude.

"Thank you…" she said quietly when he handed her the bouquet and admired the sunflowers in the bunch. She had always loved sunflowers. Does he know? Or maybe Haru told him. "Yuta-shii." she continued.

The girl grinned at her son, cupping his cheeks to give him a smooch. "Thank you, my Haru." And the younger guy giggled at the affection. Ever since young, her son had always liked the affection from her unlike other guys his age who wanted to act tough in front of their moms. Probably because it's always the two of them.

"Appa said that since it's a special occasion, we can go somewhere that you really want, eomma..." The younger claimed while licking the chocolate on his fingers. "Like the aquarium." And Y/N had to giggle at that. When did she say that she liked the aquarium? It was actually Haru who really wanted to go to the aquarium. "Right appa?" he asked while munching on the pancakes that made the girl smile.

Yuta just nodded and she wondered when the two became this close. Their soccer bonding? Is it really a good idea to let Haru know about his father? "You can just ask me if you want to go to the aquarium..."

"But I want to go with you and appa to the aquarium," he stated that made her look at him. Maybe he really is yearning for a family, a complete one like his classmates. "Please eomma," he begged, showing his puppy dog eyes. Where did he get this aegyo from? Probably from Yuta. The only girl just nodded, making the young boy scream in delight. "I love you, eomma. I'll get ready now." He said while peppering her face with kisses that made her laugh. Why is Haru like this?

He quickly ran off outside her room and into his, creating a loud thud from the door. The girl just kneeled down on her bed, fixing the sheets and removing the plate of now gone pancakes. "I'm sorry. Haru is always like that when he wants something," she said softly and Yuta was quick enough to get the plate. "Are you sure about this, Yuta-shii? Haru can be really hyper outside," she claimed then drank the coffee in one go. This is sweeter than the usual coffee she has.

The guy just smiled getting the coffee cup from her. "It's fine, I want to spend time with Haru anyway." She just nodded, unable to say something. Sensing the awkwardness, Yuta just laughed. "Cute pajamas, by the way." he complimented and she lightly glanced at the matching top and bottom light blue pajamas with yellow rubber ducks as design.

Y/N giggled to hide her embarrassment. "It's a matching set with Haru."

"You've always liked cute stuff like that." The comment made her stop. Huh? Why does he know that? Yuta cleared his throat at the sudden awkwardness. "I'll help Haru get ready. We'll just wait for you outside." And she just nodded, hearing the door close as she sat by her bed. Why is this so awkward for her? And what does Yuta want now?

From inside her room, while getting ready, she could hear Haru's giggles as if he's really happy with something. Once done, she went out of the room to see the young boy already dressed and on his father's lap laughing at something on Yuta's phone. "Appa, I think ojisan and obasan are really cool. Do you think eomma would let me meet them?" he asked innocently which made Y/N surprised. Does he want to meet them that badly?

Yuta nodded. "They'll be very happy to meet you. Let's ask eomma if we can go to Japan sometime." This is bad. They can never know about Haru, they shouldn't. She should prevent Yuta from taking over Haru's life.

"Eomma," Haru called that surprised her, snapping her out of her thoughts. "You look really pretty." And she honestly wanted to laugh at that, she's only in her white shirt and jeans. Is her son really whipped for her like this? "Isn't she, appa?"

Her eyes darted to Yuta who was looking at her with a surprised yet amused expression, he smiled then nodded. "Your mom is always pretty." Her face felt warm that instant, a blush creeping in her cheeks at how he said those words.

"Let's go! I'm excited to see the fishes." Haru said excitedly, that made her blink. He then held his father's hand, running outside the door.

Y/N is again thinking deeply about this scenario, is it correct to let Yuta in Haru's life? The doctor said that it is indeed good for him and she had been a witness to how his health got better when he had soccer and he bonded with his dad. But is it good for them?

Yuta opened the door to the backseat and the younger boy smiled before getting in. The girl was about to get in when he closed the door then pointed at the passenger seat that made the two adults look at each other. "I'm sorry," she said but Yuta shook his head, opening the passenger door for her.

It was really awkward. She didn't know that she'll be this close to the father of her child after the night they conceived him. She has no idea that a time will come and she would be next to Nakamoto Yuta like this. He's always an unattainable person for her, really cool and famous. Why does it have to be him? Alcohol is such a bitch.

The aquarium is full of people because of the weekend and it's a special occasion. Haru was holding tight on his father's hand as he shared to the older trivia about fishes that he would always read in his books. She was just watching how natural their interaction is, how excited her son is with the presence of Yuta. An emotion that she hadn't seen in him for five years. If things were just different, this might be an image she would witness every day.

Haru was playing in the playground when he sat in front of her, smiling. "Thank you for doing this, Yuta. Haru is really happy."

The guy just nodded then sipped on his cola. "You know I'll do everything for him." A shy smile appeared on his lips as he watched his son play with the other kids. "I already talked to Mika…" If only things were really different. "She wanted Haru to come with us to Japan." A gasp escaped her lips and she looked petrified. They wanted to take Haru from her? "I know it's a stupid idea but Haru can get treated in Tokyo…"

"I'm doing my best to take care of Haru." She revolted, tears springing from her eyes that they're starting to attract attention. She's doing everything for him all these years, taking care of him and juggling her job on the side. Yet Yuta wants to take him away from her when he just entered his life. "Please don't take Haru away from me."

He gulped hard, moving to the seat next to her. "I'm sorry. That's a really stupid idea." He mumbled, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. "Please don't cry. I don't like seeing you crying." He handed her a handkerchief and she quickly dried her tears, complaining that this is the first time she cried in front of him. "You always cry in the library during junior year."

What? How come he knew that? "Eomma, are you crying?" Haru asked, returning from the playground and looking really worried. She quickly turned around from him to hide her tears. "Did appa make you cry?"

The guy gave a heavy sigh then carried the younger boy on his lap. "Haru, do you remember the talk we had about eomma?" He nodded while giggling. "Can you promise me that you'll take care of eomma while I'm in Japan?" Yuta asked which made her look at the two of them. She hated how they looked so comfortable with each other like they shared a special secret between the two of them.

"You're going to return for my birthday, right?"

"Of course." Yuta grinned. "And eomma's birthday as well." Another surprise. Does he know her birthday? "But for now, appa had to work hard in Japan for you to meet obasan and ojisan."

The younger boy nodded in excitement and she hissed. Isn't he liking this so much? "Is that why eomma is crying? Because she'll miss you?" This kid really.

Yuta had to laugh at that. "Eomma likes ice cream, can you get her one?" he asked the younger boy who nodded when he gave him cash. "Chocolate for eomma. And you get one for yourself, as well." The younger can be seen skipping to where the ice cream is but her eyes cannot leave Yuta's face. Is he doing this to take Haru away from her?

"I'm sorry." The sincerity in his eyes was all Y/N could see right now. "You're doing a fantastic job taking care of Haru. I'm glad you're his mom." He held her hand that was above the table, his thumb running along the back of her hand. "But please, Y/N, if anything happens…" He looked conflicted, a new image of Yuta in front of her. "If you need anything, call me. You know I'll drop anything for Haru."

He does care about Haru but she refuses to believe that lie. There's one thing that Yuta cannot drop for their son. "Just, whatever it is, call me." She nodded just as the younger boy came with chocolate and vanilla ice cream.

Haru was still grinning on the ride home, wishing that the day could extend more. She wished the same thing. "Thank you, appa." Haru beamed, hugging his dad. "I'm really happy." She badly wanted to tear up at that, he really is. The happiness that only his father can give.

The two were still talking secretly that made her smile, Haru is giggling and Yuta is smiling at him. The younger went inside the house, running. "Yuta, thank you."

"Anything for Haru."

She smiled bitterly. Of course, it's for Haru. "Please say hi to your wife for me." The image of him in conflict appeared once again, replaced by a smiling one. "Take care, Yuta."

"You too, Y/N." He said then held her arm, lightly squeezing. This should have been romantic for her. If only things are… "I wish things were different." He mumbled, her eyes widened in surprise. "Nevermind." He shook his head then smiled at her way. "I'll see you and Haru soon."

Y/N had to repeatedly remind herself that he's doing this for his son. Nothing more, nothing less. That she should stop assuming that everything will be fine and they'll be a happy family. That's highly impossible.

Yes, she had his child. But she can never have Yuta's heart.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Second Part

[elizabeethan]

Watch The Sunlight Fade: 3 / 18

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: You may have noticed a chapter count! It’s subject to change, but I’ve outlined the whole story and have written halfway through chapter 12, so we’re getting there, friends. Reminder to check warnings and tags and message me if you have questions. There will be depictions of violence, domestic violence, very very brief discussions of non-con (kind of) and psychological abuse throughout this story.

Rated M

Get added to my tag list

Read the Rest

Read my Other Stuff

Read on Ao3

~~~~

The door to his apartment slams behind her as she stumbles in, the alcohol in her veins obviously taking over as he helps to steady her. “Easy,” he warns, hand on her waist as he guides her towards the guest room. 

 “You’re not gonna let me stay in bed with you, big guy?” she slurs, giving him a flirty smile. 

 “No, love,” he answers softly. “You need rest.”

 With a giggle, she answers, “I get paid to have sex with people. Shouldn’t you be flattered that I’m soliciting you?”

 “Tink,” he laughs, “I am very flattered. But you need to go to bed.”

 “I can still give you a good time even though I’m drunk, you know,” she promises, letting her fingers dance along the lapels of his jacket. 

 “I know that, love. I just think… perhaps it’s time to… bring this arrangement to a close.”

She pouts, her bottom lip popping out and her brows furrowing. “Something I said?” she asks. 

 With a slight shake to his head, he smiles shyly down at her and brushes a wayward strand of her honey locks out of her eye. “No, but perhaps we can finish this tomorrow morning when you’re sober?”

 Tink shrugs, letting her heavy kids fall closed and turning around to stumble down the hall. “It’s okay,” she says as she finds the doorknob. “I know it’s that blonde girl.”

 “Liv…” he starts, although he isn’t sure where he’s going as he begins to speak. It’s not the blonde girl, not really. Although he felt a connection to her from the moment he saw her, he also knows that his and Tink’s fling is just that: a fling. It can’t last, and while he likes her well enough, he thinks it unfair to continue on with something to which he isn’t fully dedicated. “It’s not you.” 

 She snorts and nods her head lazily, letting it flop a bit too freely on her neck. “It’s not you, it’s me. I get it.” 

 “Hey,” he tries again, giving her a soft smile as he tucks away the same defiant strand of her hair. “I’ll always be here for you, you know that. I’ll always have love for you.”

 “Yeah,” she smiles with a soft blush, her lids looking heavier and heavier with each passing moment. “I love you, too, bud. It was probably a bad idea to sleep with your best friend anyway.” 

 “I’m not sleeping with Robin,” he deadpans, knowing with certainty that it’ll draw a hearty laugh from her. She pushes against his shoulder with more force that she was likely expecting and turns around to open the door to his guest room. 

 “You dolt.” Once she’s in the room, just as she’s about to shut the door behind her, she spins quickly to face him once more. “By the way, you’re a total idiot if you go after her.” 

 “Bloody hell, not you too,” he complains as he scratches behind his ear. 

 “She belongs to Cassidy and you know it. You know what’ll happen if you pursue her.” 

 “Aye, that’s why I have no intention of doing so. Now, go to bed, Olivia.” 

 “Ooh,” she fakes a shudder, “full name; I must've been naughty.” 

 “Aye, you were. Goodnight, love.” 

 “Night, KJ.” 

 He listens to her giggle as she stumbles through the room, one she’s stayed in countless times before. She’s right; they probably never should’ve started their affair in the first place. Sleeping with your best friend is bound to end badly. But they understand each other, each of them here with hardly a choice on whether they stay or go. It isn’t as if they’re being held against their will, but the implication is that they’ll seriously regret it if they try to leave, one way or another. They simply both took comfort in knowing that someone else felt as they did. 

 He’s about to go to bed himself, ready to rid himself of the guilt that came along with the events of the day, but he pauses as he walks by his front door just in time to hear a resounding thud coming from across the hall. He panics and swings his own door open when he hears the terrified cry in response. He heard something earlier today that sounded exactly like that terrified cry. 

 Rushing over to Neal’s apartment, he places his hand on the knob and presses his ear to the door. He doesn’t want to burst in with haste since he has no idea what he actually heard, and the door must be locked anyway. But he can’t help but recall the image of her pressed to the door looking horrified, two knives on either side of her throat. He can’t get the look in her eyes out of his head. 

 There aren’t anymore sounds resonating from the apartment, silence falling over him as he attempts to listen out for signs of trouble. After a moment, all he hears are soft, painful sobs coming from the other side of the door. 

 ~~~~

 It’s surprisingly even more terrifying to be in the shop during the day than it was at night. At least when she was here last night, the shadows kept the frightening details of the space hidden, but now that the sun is up and streaming through the small basement windows, she’s able to see too much. 

 She can see the aged and worn paint on the walls, giving her an automatic and infallible feeling of unease. She can see the decorative weapons proudly displayed on every inch of every wall. She can see the rugged violence on each of the men’s faces so clearly in the sunlight. Being here terrifies her. 

 “Morning, Miss Swan,” Peter greets as Neal leads her into the large meeting room. He’s already sitting at the table waiting for them, Gold at his right and two empty seats to his left. There are several other members at the table as well, and she can’t help but notice how bright Killian’s eyes look in the sun streaming through the windows. “Welcome to your first real family meeting.” 

 The others around the table laugh, everyone but Jones seeming to find his joke about her near death experience to be funny. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” Neal asks in her ear, his voice low and his teeth clearly clenched. 

 She clears her throat and gives Peter the fakest smile she can muster. “Good morning.”

 “That’s a good lass,” he praises, setting free a flock of anxious butterflies in her stomach. “Come sit. We saved you a seat by Neal.” 

 They sit side by side, and it’s becoming easier and easier to question his ranking within the group of men at the table. She finds it impossible to see him as a simple lackey when his name is carved into the table in intricate lettering in front of his chair, directly to the left of Peter's seat at the head. 

 There are talks of their plans, and she gathers some information easily while they seem to go to great lengths to keep other things hidden from her based on the threatening glances Peter doles out from time to time. There’s a trip coming up, and it’s automatically assumed that Neal will be going with Peter and Gold will be staying behind, as if this arrangement was made and agreed upon a lifetime ago. Once the other attendees are determined, Peter turns to face her and gives her a smile. 

 “Now, a job for you, my dear. Neal tells us you have a talent in finding people.” 

 “She can find anyone,” Neal says proudly, referring to her short stint as a bail bondsperson back when she lived in Boston. When she had met Neal after he witnessed her taking down a skip, he took her under his wing and told her she didn’t have to live such a dangerous lifestyle anymore. “Well, almost anyone.” 

 Her stomach flips at his hint; at his willingness to bring up one of the most painful memories she has. She’s great at finding people, but in 25 years, she still hasn’t been able to find her parents. 

 Pan hums. “We can look past a few failed attempts. What we need from you now, Emma, is your skillset to find a certain someone who deserted our cause.”

 She gulps. “You want me to hunt down someone who doesn’t agree with you?” 

 “No love,” he laughs, and Neal’s grip on her hand tightens just a notch. “I want you to find someone who has valuable information and won’t hesitate to hand it over to a rival.” Emma bites her lip in thought, concern likely colored across her face. She hadn’t considered the existence of a rival gang before this moment, and she becomes frightened to think of there being more than one set of men like them. The thought that another gang is out there and considers themselves rivals to The Lost Boys means she’s potentially putting herself in even more danger by becoming associated with them. What will another gang do to the girlfriend of one of their rival’s members, especially a member whom she suspects is higher up in the rankings than he’s letting on? 

 “It’s not lost on me that you’re feeling uncomfortable here, Emma. The tension between you and Neal is perfectly palpable. But I’d implore you to let go of your fears; no one here will harm you. We’re here to protect you. By simply being associated with Neal, you have the protection of everyone in this club. And I’m sure it makes perfect sense that we would expect something of you in return for our unquestioning devotion to your safety.” 

 Although something about his words makes her suspicious, she suddenly feels a sense of strength at his claim that she’s a part of the group now. It’s as if he’s telling her that her thoughts and opinions matter, so she makes a bold choice and speaks up. “Can I clarify something?” she asks. 

 “Of course.” 

 “What are you protecting me from, exactly?” 

 Peter smirks and shakes his head, giving Neal a look that she can’t quite read. “I suppose Neal hasn’t informed you of how dangerous a place this world can be for a woman like you, Miss Swan. Your love for Neal makes you a target, as does Neal’s love for you. By falling for him, you’ve also fallen into our world. And because we’re so devoted to what you have to offer, we will protect you from everyone who may want to hurt Neal.” 

 “Just because I can find people pretty easily?” she asks doubtfully. His explanation isn’t making any sense to her. She can’t rectify in her head how loving Neal can equate to requiring constant protection, especially based on his claim that he’s going to be leaving soon. 

 “No, Emma,” he laughs condescendingly, as if he were talking to a child who couldn’t handle the truth. She wonders if he’s right. “Worry not; all will make sense to you as time goes by. For now, let's get started with your first assignment. Hook, show the lady to her office.” 

 ~~~~

 “Most sites are blocked here,” he explains as he powers up the old desktop, groaning softly as he stands again. “You’ll likely run into trouble if you try to find him on Facebook or anything.” 

 “Why?” she asks, and although she immediately regrets opening her mouth, the look he gives her feels more amused than anything. 

 “Why?” 

 “Um… why are they blocked?” 

 He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head and looking away from her once he notices that the computer has booted up. “To keep you out of trouble, I suppose.” 

 She bites her bottom lip, squeezing her fists until she feels the sting of her nails digging into her palm. She isn’t sure that, in the last day since she’s come here, she’s been kept out of trouble at all. She’s been in trouble-- in danger-- since she heard those bikes pulling up behind her and Neal. 

 “Right,” she says softly, sarcastically, and again, she kicks herself for opening her mouth. She wonders what would have happened to her by now if she was with anyone but Jones in this moment. 

 “Love,” he starts, his voice soft and tender, and she almost wonders if he intends to step close to her. Perhaps he means to comfort her. “I’m--” he clears his throat, “If you need anything…” 

 Their eyes meet, and it’s like the first time again. His azure stare bores into her in a way that makes her shudder, but not out of fear this time. She feels seen, understood, and while it’s only been a day since her traumatic greeting from the club, it feels like a lifetime since she’s felt a sense of safety. It feels comforting to meet his gaze, and she suddenly lets her breathing steady and her heart rate settle. “Thank you,” she whispers genuinely. She isn’t sure how she could relay it to him if she does need something, but the way he looks at her tells her that he’ll know. 

 For the first time since she’s been here, her safety appears to be a priority to someone. Relief washes over her and she lets it, despite knowing that it will dissipate the moment he walks out the door.

 ~~~~

 “How’s it goin’ in here, my little worker bee?”

 She looks up from the computer she’s been staring at, met by Neal leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed. The dinosaur she’s working on is hardly functioning, most sites she’s tried blocked and inaccessible and the speed at which it loads each page almost painful. After almost a week of working on the assignment they’ve given her, she’s found almost nothing.

 “Hi,” she mumbles, turning back to the screen. All they had given her was a name and a last known location, and she’s struggling to find more.

 “Doing alright?”

 “I can’t find much,” she says. 

 “You’ll find him; you’re smart. I wonder if that’s genetic,” he says with a laugh and a smirk in her direction. She isn’t sure what he means or how to respond, so she simply smiles somewhat awkwardly and moves on. She refuses to let herself wonder if this is another dig at her for being parentless. 

 “It just feels impossible. This guy, Graham… are you sure he even exists?” she jokes. 

 He laughs, but it’s forced and she doesn't detect a genuine smile. “Are you doubting Peter?” 

 Emma looks up at him, meeting his eyes with confusion colored in her own. “No,” she starts, although she isn’t sure if she’s being truthful in her answer. “It’s just…”

 Neal shoves away from the door and slinks closer to her, bending at his knees and squatting until his eyes meet her level. “Ems,” he starts, his hand landing on hers and applying what she thinks is meant to be a comforting amount of pressure. “Don’t start.” 

 “What…?” 

 He groans and leans away from her. “It's not a damn secret that you aren’t happy to be here. I need you to be better about that.” 

 She lets her jaw hang open for a bit longer than she means to, shock taking over her as he confirms what she’s been suspecting since the meeting she attended. “Neal,” she starts, “you’re the one who said you want to get out. You said we could leave after a few weeks.” 

 “And?” 

 “Uh… and… it’s been a week and you don’t seem like you’re… I mean… it seems like you're happy here.” 

 “So what?” 

 “What do you-- so what? You said we were leaving and now it’s like they're your family!” 

 Neal stands quickly, spinning from her in exasperation as he thrusts his hands into his hair. “You’re being so-- stop judging me! What do you even have to complain about?! They’re being nothing but nice to you. You have a home now, I feed you, I love you, we protect you… I don’t get what your damn problem is!” 

 “The knives, Neal!” she shouts, unable to hold back the emotional response to his nonsensical claims. “You threw knives at my head!” 

 There's a loud smack against the desk she sits at, and she’s brought back to the reality of her experience and out of the false sense of control that she let herself believe she had. She has to force herself to move on from the thought that she and Neal are able to have a conversation. When she looks down to where his hand met the surface, she sees his gun held beneath his palm. She pales. 

 “It’s time to move on,” he hisses quietly, his voice taking over the silence of the room. It’s another threat. Another convenient way to show her that he has power over her. That he can take everything away from her, even her life, in a second if she gives him a reason to. “You weren’t in danger, baby,” he says, his voice more soothing this time, drawing from her that feeling again. The feeling that she’s overreacting. “I had it under control, remember?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

 She sighs heavily at the feeling of his lips tracing along her jaw until he reaches her neck. “You did?” she asks weakly. With his sudden change in demeanor, his obvious desire not to make her feel unsafe anymore, she feels something shift between them. 

 “Of course I did; don’t be stupid. You know I did.” 

 It feels good, she lets herself realize. As her eyes slip closed and a soft breath escapes her lips, she makes herself relax into his touch. With her sense of sight cut off, she feels herself giving in to his touch in favor of feeling some sense of relaxation after a week of hypervigilance. His rough stubble scratches at her skin, something she normally doesn’t like, but right now, she doesn’t think she minds too much. With her eyes shut, the rest of the world closed off from her mind, she thinks she could appreciate some stubble. 

 She feels the smooth leather of his sleeve under her fingertips and she likes it. Sure, she’s always thought the leather jackets were sexy, but here and now, something about him in it becomes more appealing. But when his hand creeps up her waist, his touch a bit too rough, too domineering, she flinches. 

 “Shh,” he hisses softly, attempting to soothe her. “It’s alright.” 

 At the sound of his voice, something snaps within her and she stiffens. It sounds wrong, she realizes. “Wait,” she murmurs as his hand creeps under her shirt. 

 He breathes out a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously?”

 “I just,” she starts, nervous as he pushes away. “We’re… I mean, we’re here.” She gestures around the room, hopeful that her discomfort at the thought of sleeping with him in this office where anyone could walk in is clear. 

 “Right. So when we get home, you’ll be more than willing?” he asks doubtfully, rolling his eyes. 

 “Neal,” she begs softly, unsure of where she went wrong. She’s unsure of how she could have messed this up when she was the one to express her own discomfort. “Please.” 

 “Please,” he mimics, his voice rising in pitch. “I’ll see you in a week.” 

 With that, confusing words exchanged between them, he’s out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. 

@courtorderedcake​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​ @stahlop​​​​ @klynn-stormz​​​​ @laschatzi​​​​ @emelizabeth88​​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​ @kday426​​​​ @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story​​​​ @captain-emmajones​​​​ @gingerpolyglot​​​​​ @ebcaver​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​​​ @jrob64​​​​​ @onceratheart18​​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​​ @swampmedusa​​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​​ @dancingnancyy​​​​​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything​​​​​ @shireness-says​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​​​ @ouatpost​​​​​ @daxx04​​​​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​​​​ @donteattheappleshook​​​​​ @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​​​​​ @xsajx​​​​​ @itsfridaysomewhere​​​​​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​​​​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​​​​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​​​​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​​​​ @rapunzelsghosts​​​​​ @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice​​​​​ @batana54​​​​ @sailtoafarawayland​​ @deckerstarblanche​​ @zaharadessert​​ @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza

[until-theend-oftheline]

Finding Neverland - Part 1: Man Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: PTSD, Survivor’s guilt. 

Squares Filled: “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back” for @star-spangled-bingo​ and survivor’s guilt for @badthingshappenbingo​

Word Count: 1200ish

A/N: First part of my new Bucky series! I am super excited about this one and I hope you guys will like it too. There is no reader in this part - she is coming but the first few parts will set up Bucky and the journey he is on before he meets her. 

Betaed by: @blacktithe7​ - thank you love

Masterlist

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Bucky walked into his room. A room that despite him having stayed there for the past year still didn’t feel like his own. It wasn’t just the room though, it was everything. Ever since the war, and maybe to a degree even before the war, Bucky had felt out of place. He didn’t belong in this place or maybe even in this time. He shouldn’t even be alive. 

The Supreme Court had exonerated Bucky of any guilt of the things HYDRA had made him do. That didn’t mean Bucky had forgiven himself though. He hadn’t, which was why he had agreed to move into the Tower when Sam had asked him for help running the new Avengers team. Bucky had red in his ledger, as Nat would have said, and maybe helping Sam would clear some of that out. 

It didn’t feel like it had though. All Bucky did was more fighting and more killing. Bad guys this time around, and the killing was only when they gave him absolutely no other choice. Still, he was doing all the things he had promised himself, while he lived in Wakanda that he was through with. Bucky lived in the building that had once been owned by a man that had tried to kill him. With good right. Bucky had taken everything from Tony Stark and had never had the chance to even try to apologize. Not that an apology would mean anything to a kid whose parents he had brutally murdered. 

“It wasn’t really you, Buck.” 

Steve’s words rang in his head, and even though Bucky knew Steve was right, he didn’t feel it. He doubted that he ever really would. He remembered every waking moment. He remembered the torture, the experiments and the brainwashing. Worse than that, he remembered them. Innocent eyes shining with fear before his hands robbed them of their lives. He remembered the pull of a trigger and blood spatter on walls, windows and cars. He remembered it all, and it was hard not to blame himself for what had been done by his own hands even if he wasn’t in control. 

The guilt wasn’t enough to keep him here anymore though. Steve had gotten to live the life that had been stolen from him, and Sam had taken over the mantle of Captain America. He was great at it, even if Bucky would never say that to his face. Sam didn’t need Bucky, at least not anymore. Steve seemed as if he had found peace. Even with Peggy having passed, he was still surrounded by kids, grandkids and friends. Bucky didn’t need to worry about either of them. So he decided to take his therapists advice and worry about himself for a little bit. 

Bucky threw his bag on the bed next to his helmet and looked around the room. Even if it never felt like home, it still felt strange to walk away. For the first time in his life, he was well and truly going to be on his own. With no one to help or look after. No one but himself. The thought of that terrified him, but he knew he had to do this. 

Bucky closed his eyes, taking a deep breath just as a knock on the door sounded, and the door opened behind him. 

“What? You thought you could sneak off without saying goodbye?” Sam’s teasing voice sounded behind him. 

“Sam...” Steve scolded. The one word speaking a million just as always.

Bucky smiled turning around to face his two friends. “And risk having a stupid drone bird following me until I get back?”

“Hey. Redwing is not stupid,” Sam pointed a finger at Bucky, before smirking. “And I distinctly remember him saving your ass a few times.”

“You are coming back?” Steve interrupted, drawing Bucky’s attention to him. Steve looked so much older than him now, but Bucky still saw the same kid he had grown up with over a century ago. He always had. No matter what changes Steve had gone through, Bucky still saw him for who he had always been. 

“Off course I am pal. You did right?” Bucky smiled, reminding Steve of the conversation they had shared just over a year ago. For Bucky at least for Steve it was half a lifetime ago. 

“Bucky…” Steve started, but Bucky just shook his head to stop him. 

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine. You should worry about this one instead,” Bucky gave Sam’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “I don’t know what he’ll do without me out there.”

“I’ll do just fine, thank you very much Tinman,” Sam huffed, before reaching out to pull Bucky into a bone crushing hug. “Don’t be a stranger. I don’t wanna have to track you down again because Steve worries.”

Bucky laughed, hugging Sam back. 

“I won’t. Be careful out there okay?” Bucky said, pulling back, looking a little more serious before turning to Steve. 

The worried frown on Steve’s face made Bucky want to laugh. He couldn’t remember how many times he had given Steve that exact look, knowing that no matter what he would say, nothing could change the stubborn punk’s mind anyway. 

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” Bucky mirrored the words he had said to Steve before going off to war; the same words Steve had said to him before returning to his past with Peggy. 

That line, drew a small smile to Steve’s face even if it was battling worry lines deeper than ever now. 

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,” Steve answered just like expected, and Bucky grinned before leaning in to hug Steve goodbye. 

“Nonsense. I’m leaving him right here with you,” Bucky grinned, looking over Steve’s shoulder at Sam. 

“I’m really not gonna miss you,” Sam huffed in pretend annoyance, but Bucky knew his words meant the exact opposite. Even if his relationship with Sam was more than a little odd, Bucky still counted him as one of his best friends. One of two actually. 

Saying goodbye to them hadn’t been easy, but Bucky had done it. He felt as if he was closing a chapter of his life as he walked out of the Avengers’ Tower. He closed the strap to his backpack across his chest, put his helmet on and mounted his bike. He started the engine, giving the Tower one last look, before raving up the bike and taking off. Destination unknown, even to himself, and Bucky kinda liked the feeling of freedom. Something he had never truly felt in his life before, at least not since he was a kid riding a truck back home after spending all his money with Steve on Coney Island. 

Reblogs spread my work and make me happy. Got a favorite part/line? Did something touch you? Do you relate in some way? Please tell me and make my day. 

Bucky Barnes Tag Team

@feelmyroarrrr​ @littlebittcrazy​ @sleepretreat​ @roxyspearing​ @jewels2876​ @hellaqueerangelofthelord @blacktithe7​ @danijimenezv​ @rumoured-whispers​ @becs-bunker​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @avengerscompound​ @grace-for-sale​ @scarletlingeries @averyrogers83​ @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ @sorenmarie87​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @erosbellarke  @the-wayward-robot​ @super100012​  @lucifersbird​ @achishisha @awkwardfangirl2014​ @igotkatiepowers​ @dottirose​ @panicatttckiss @kimmiestrawberrykiwi​ @sdciopo @deathofmissjackson​ @cosicas-cuquis @stormi-ames​ @anxiousamandapanda​ @miraclesoflove​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @pinknerdpanda​ @percywinchester27​ @mysupernaturalfics​

[writethelifeyouwant]

Dive Bar, Ch 8/?

Pairing: Dean x Sam (eventually, he he he) | Sam x OMC (Chase) brief 

Rating: 18+

Prompt/Summary: After a one night stand with a random college chick turns into a threesome that also featured his little brother, Dean- well, frankly, he panics. What’s even worse than gay panicking? Gay incest panicking. Luckily, Sam winds up being a little more cool about the whole thing than Dean ever would have imagined.

WC: 3,631

Tags: Awful flirting (but I’m not sorry), gay panic, angst, Dean having graphic naughty thoughts, male masturbation, blow job, rimming, anal sex, cock ring (? kinda) 

Warnings: thoughts about to brother/brother incest

Beta:  @negans-lucille-tblr, actual angel 😇

Divider: @firefly-graphics ❤️

Sam looked up at the sound of slow clapping, expecting it to be Dean returning with their refills just in time to see Sam pot the last ball. But he couldn’t see Dean, and it took him a moment to identify the clapper as the guy with dark blonde hair strolling towards him with a look of contemplation on his slim face.

“That was pretty impressive,” the guy nodded at the pool table, and Sam straightened up a little, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, thanks,” Sam shrugged, the game he’d felt so proud of - and wanted to rub in Dean’s face a moment ago - now making him feel self conscious. He hadn’t meant to draw any kind of attention to himself. That was normally Dean’s forte.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“My um, my brother taught me.” Sam clutched the pool cue between his hands, eyes darting around and landing on Dean at the bar. His breath eased a little once he knew where he was. The new guy’s eyes followed Sam’s and found him watching Dean at the bar.

“That guy’s your brother?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded cautiously.

“Well, that is a relief,” he laughed fully, openly.

Sam was taken aback. “Why?”

“Because if he was your boyfriend I was probably gonna get beat up for hitting on you.” He smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling, but still a little shy.

Sam blinked, dumbfounded. He didn’t know why he hadn’t been expecting it. He’d had a suspicion that this place was an LGBT haunt based on the number of same-sex couples he’d noticed dotted around, but that hadn’t led him to the conclusion that he’d maybe have an opportunity he hadn’t had since Dean had picked him up from Stanford. Sam glanced nervously back to Dean at the bar, watching him knock back a shot of something, not paying attention to his little brother. But why did Sam even care if Dean saw him talking to this guy? He breathed out sharply when he realised that he didn’t have to hide this from Dean - he’d come out to him last month. He didn’t have to be worried about what Dean thought if he saw him talking to - what was this guy’s name?

“I’m Sam,” Sam offered his hand, and the man took it, shaking it firmly. Sam noticed how smooth the guy’s hands were.

“Chase,” he smiled wider still, like he couldn’t believe Sam was actually having a conversation with him.

“So are you, uh, here with anyone?” Sam wasn’t used to making small talk anymore. The only people he talked to were Dean or law enforcement - or witnesses to supernatural phenomena.

“A few friends,” Chase nodded behind him, but not with enough direction for Sam to actually tell which table of people he might have been talking about.

“Do you, um,” Sam let out a sharp, amused exhale, not really believing he was actually doing this. “D’ya want to have a drink?”

Chase smiled brightly. “Yeah, I’d love that,” he nodded, and the pair started towards the bar. “Then maybe you’ll be so kind as to show me just how you play that game over there?”

Sam grinned, this guy was pulling out a classic, but it was a good one.

“You want me to teach you how to play pool?” he smirked and moved closer behind Chase, bracing his hands on the bar on either side of him, and ducked down to speak against his ear. “I should warn you, I’m a pretty hands on teacher.” Sam felt Chase grin, even though he couldn’t see his face.

“I think I’m counting on it. I might need a lot of hand holding,” Chase laughed at his own joke, probably realising how lame it was, but Sam thought it was cute.

While Chase ordered drinks, Sam glanced over his shoulder across the bar and caught Dean looking right at them. Sam blushed under his brother’s intense gaze, a little embarrassed that Dean had been watching him come onto this guy so strongly. But how was that different to any time Sam had to watch Dean flirt his way through every available pair of boobs in these joints? He decided it wasn’t; he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. Sam gave Chase a once over from behind, eyes lingering on his ass. Yeah, definitely not ashamed of this, Sam resolved. He flicked his eyes back up to meet Dean’s again and gave him a bold wink.

Dean’s face was blank, but his gaze wavered between shock and dread. He’d never seen Sam flirt so blatantly with anyone before. He’d never seen Sam flirt with a guy before either, but he guessed he should have expected that to happen eventually. It hadn’t really hit him before now what Sam being bi really meant. It wasn’t just that he was happy to have a threesome that involved two guys instead of two girls, it meant that sometimes he would want to sleep with guys, just because.

The pride Dean usually felt when Sam successfully picked up a chick wasn’t making an appearance right now, though. This was different. Dean reluctantly realised that the difference here was jealousy. He looked at the guy Sam was pressed up against and took in the spiky hair, the henley pulled across decently toned muscles, the black leather cord he wore as a necklace. He was about Dean’s height judging where he stood against Sam. Angry voices inside him shouted at Dean to break it up, stop Sammy from doing this, protect him, though from what, the voices didn’t care to elaborate. Hopeful voices inside tried to soothe his anger. Telling him that maybe Sam wasn’t with him now, but the guy he was with looked just a little like Dean… maybe… and what if that meant that Sam was drawn to him for that reason?

Dean shut down that internal dialogue with a grimace, and ordered another shot. He wasn’t gonna stay here and watch Sam hit on some guy without getting drunk.

Sam and Chase were two drinks in and back by the pool table, and Sam was having more fun than he could remember having in a long time. Watching Chase bend over the table, ass pressing tight against his jeans, and knowing that he was doing it so Sam could look… it was exhilarating. Even the vague prickling on the back of his neck every time Dean looked over at them gravely didn’t spoil Sam’s mood. He knew his brother was just being an overprotective ass.

Chase shot him a coy smile over his shoulder, still bent over trying to corral all the balls into their frame. Sam grinned back freely, eyes glinting with want that he knew Chase could see.

“You gonna show me how to hold this stick?”

“I’m gonna show you so much more than that,” Sam promised. He pressed against him and threaded his arms through the smaller man’s, slotting their hips and their hands together. “You want to hold it firmly, but not too tight. Just give it a little squeeze.”

Chase burst out laughing, shaking Sam off his body. Sam stood back, confused and a little offended at the reaction. Chase’s eyes glinted under the fluorescent light hanging above them.

“I’m sorry man,” he stifled another laugh and tried again. “Sorry, I just, I couldn’t not think about the innuendo there.” Sam smirked and moved back to Chase, bending him back over and leaning into him heavily.

“That was sorta the point man,” Sam breathed in his ear. “Now, put your hands back on that long piece of wood and do as you’re told.”

Sam realised then that he had been repressing this part of himself for far too long. Or at least his dick thought so, because it was paying quite a bit more attention than it usually did in public.

He was never shy about wanting to be the one in control in the bedroom, but with girls, he never really knew how they would take it. He always worried about hurting them if he was being too rough. With guys it felt a little different, he felt a little freer, like he didn’t have to be scared of throwing them around as much. And he’d had enough to drink that his filter wasn’t inclined to hold him back anymore. The shiver that had run through Chase at Sam’s words only solidified Sam’s resolve to take this guy home and absolutely wreck him.

Dean thought he was gonna be sick. Most people would think that was down to the amount of alcohol he’d just downed in such a short span of time - switching to tequila had either been a very good or a very bad decision on Dean’s part - but in actuality, he was still on the good side of drunk. The thing churning his stomach and pulling him apart from the inside was what he was watching his baby brother do to that twink pressed against the pool table across the bar.

Jesus, they were in public and Sam was practically dry humping the dude. At least respectable people would go to a club and hide behind dancing as an excuse. But there was his brother, his little kid brother, practically fucking some stranger right in the middle of the room. What the fuck does he think he’s doing?

Dean had never seen Sam so blatantly sexual before. Well no - that was a lie - he had seen him that way once, when he’d been pounding into Dany so hard he shook the bed, and looked right at Dean when he’d broken down inside her, staring right into his eyes as he came undone. But the way Sam was looking at him had Dean believing that, maybe, Sam wasn't thinking about Dany at all.

Dean wanted to pretend that he was only offended by the sight before him because it was indecent - not cool, bro - but if the guy below Sam had been him, he wouldn’t have given two fucks how decent they looked, so long as Sam showed everyone watching that it was them who belonged together. That Sam belonged to him, inside him. His.

Chase was a horrible pool player. But that might have more to do with the fact that Sam was grinding a semi against his ass every time he helped him line up a shot. Poor guy had to be at least a little distracted. After two games of utter domination from Sam, he took pity on his playmate and graciously bought him a drink to mellow the loss.

Locking eyes over the wet edged shot glasses, Sam tipped his back and swallowed, long and deep. Sam watched as Chase’s eyes traced his throat and down into the v-neck of the t-shirt he’d revealed when he unbuttoned his flannel during the second game. His eyes settled there for a moment, and Sam wondered how long he would linger there before he caught himself. His breathing quickened slightly - bringing his chest up and down with it, and Chase continued to stare. The attention only aroused Sam more. But it was over when Chase blinked harshly, and brought his eyes back to Sam’s, looking a little startled.

“What?” he said stupidly, fingers slipping on his glass, still full and hanging in front of his lips.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Sam enunciated, a knowing smirk back on his lips.

“Yeah,” Chase nodded and downed his own drink, licking his lips to catch the drop of alcohol that had spilled over. Sam’s eyes locked on his tongue and followed it back inside Chase’s mouth. Their lips met briefly, Sam pulling back almost immediately to check he hadn’t misjudged things - to check he was actually about to follow through on going home with this guy.

Chase’s face was hot, colour staining his already sun-kissed skin, eyes wide like he was staring into the sun. Sam jerked his chin towards the door, brows raised, and Chase nodded and leant in close so Sam could hear him better. “I’m just gonna grab my things, meet you outside?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded and squeezed Chase’s arm in reassurance. “I’m just going to let my brother know where I’m headed.” Sam jerked his head to where he had clocked Dean hunched in a booth nursing a hefty glass of whiskey.

“Hey,” Sam slid into the seat across from Dean, slapping a rhythm against the table as he sat down.

“Someone’s chipper,” Dean grunted sourly, taking a swig of his drink.

“Someone’s bummed out.”

Sam’s sass tugged at the corner’s of Dean’s lips. but he didn’t let it get an actual smile out of him.

“Sorry the girls here weren’t exactly ‘your scene’,” Sam did look a little apologetic, but he couldn’t wipe the smug excitement off his stupid face.

“Yeah, well,” Dean grunted again, and knocked back more of the burning liquid, “about time you got laid, was beginning to think you’d accidentally pulled it off from jerking too much.”

“Ew, dude, gross,” Sam grimaced. “How would you know how much I jerk off, anyways?”

“We live in each other’s asses, Sam,” Dean excused, not caring to mention the fact that he knows Sam’s jerked off in the shower every night since he’d picked him up from Stanford, and he’s spent the last month joining in from the other side of the door. Choking down the jealousy and shame that came with it, Dean pushed Sam out of the booth with his foot. “Now go on and fuck your little boy toy, he’s over there waiting for you.”

Sure enough, when Sam checked over his shoulder, he saw Chase waiting anxiously by the door.

“You gonna be alright, man? You got a motel key?”

“Fuck off,” Dean grumbled, and watched sullenly as Sam made his way through the crowds of people to the door, slipping out behind his company for the evening. Dean knocked back the rest of his glass and stood, stretching the stiffness out of his joints. He didn’t want to stay here, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go besides the motel room. Remembering they had passed a convenience store on their walk here, Dean figured drinking alone was less embarrassing if he was actually alone while he was doing it, and made up his mind.

-

Arriving back at their room with a bottle of Jack he’d already cracked into, Dean crashed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. What the hell was he doing? Sitting in the dark, drinking himself to sleep because his baby brother went home with someone else. Pathetic. Pining over Sam had become Dean’s new favourite pastime without him even realising it, and most certainly without his permission.

Dropping his hand over the side of his bed and groping for his duffle, Dean managed to dig his hand into the side pocket hiding the bracelets that he’d pushed out of sight nearly two months ago. Curling his fingers around the smooth-worn wooden beads, he dragged them out, clutching them hard until he felt his nails cutting into his palm.

More Jack; these relics in his hand from a time when he used to be a good big brother, one Sam could actually admire and love, and Dean decided he was done. If he was gonna add this to the list of everything else that was fucked up in his life, then he was gonna goddamn lean into it. He knew Sam had noticed that he wasn’t wearing them anymore, and the thought that Sam might think Dean was mad at him, or didn’t love him with literally everything he had was unacceptable now.

He dropped the beads on the comforter and the bottle on the nightstand, and rose to pull off his jeans. If Sam was getting off tonight there was no reason he shouldn't. But at the thought of Sam, Dean couldn’t stop himself thinking about the guy he’d gone home with, who he’d had bent over the pool table in front of the whole damn bar. It was too easy to picture what Sam was doing to him now. Dean settled back against the lumpy pillows and squeezed himself over his boxers, letting himself sink into the images flashing through his mind.

Sam pressing that bastard up against the door. Sam threading his fingers through the short, dark blonde hair and pulling - the very thought draws a gasp from Dean, wishing it was him Sam was doing those things to, pressing those kisses to, scraping his teeth against and leaving marks on.

Inside Chase’s apartment, Sam didn’t waste any time. He had him pressed against the door with his wrists pinned over his head in a heartbeat. His kiss started teasing and light. He nipped at Chase’s lips, and the tip of his tongue that had tried in vain to connect to Sam’s. He dragged his teeth across the five o’clock shadow that dusted Chase’s jaw and down, locking on the hollow up his throat and pulling a heavy sign from his partner.

Sam kissed his way back to Chase’s lips and devoured him this time. Their tongues slid together but there was no fight for dominance, no illusion as to how this night was going. Sam was in charge, and that was just where they both wanted him.

Lurching backwards, Sam pulled Chase along with him, and they stumbled blindly around the entryway and managed to fall through the door to the bedroom - Chase’s doing. Sam’s jacket and shoes were discarded on the floor, Chase’s henley tossed onto the scattered laundry piled at the bottom of his bed. The sight made Sam smirk, one more confirmation that he went home with a guy tonight.

Sam sat on the bed and dragged Chase on top of him, grabbing his neck and forcing their mouths back together. At a loud groan from Chase, Sam opened his eyes and stared into the blue-grass eyes he remembered admiring in the bar, but in this dim light they looked darker, greener, and suddenly, Sam wasn’t looking at Chase anymore.

Dean tried to picture something, anything, other than Sam but he couldn’t. He saw Sam rolling himself on top of that guy and dragging himself down - would they be on the couch, or a bed? - down to the fly on his irritatingly well-fitted jeans and popping the button open with a grin. He saw him pulling the denim down and off, saw him mouthing hungrily over the cotton-covered bulge he found himself faced with, tonguing along the head and leaving a dark stain behind.

Dean groaned and pulled himself free from his boxers, needing it faster, tighter, meaner.

Sam swallowed Chase down eagerly. He didn’t even have the patience to pull his boxers all the way off, and he twisted the fabric in his hands, pulled it tight. It had been so long since he’d had a cock in his mouth he nearly gagged himself in his excitement to suck down every last inch. Chase whimpered above him, lost in the heat of Sam’s throat. Sam could tell he was trying so hard not to lose it already, so he eased up a little. He didn’t want to see Chase cum until he had his cock inside him.

Granting Chase a brief moment of reprieve, Sam slid further down until his tongue was thrusting in and out of his ass. Chase tried to squirm away but Sam held him down, bracing his arm across the slim hips to keep his prey in place. Chase managed to fish the lube and a condom out of his nightstand and throw them vaguely in Sam’s direction without Sam needing to stop his tongue’s assault. Sam knew he was rushing, but by the time he pushed inside of Chase’s not-prepped-enough hole neither of them cared.

Dean could feel it, hovering out of reach. He wanted it so badly but he couldn’t get there, and the frustration was starting to outweigh the desperation. The volume of alcohol couldn’t have been helping things either, but logic wasn’t what Dean was interested in right now. He needed something else, something more. Grasping in his mind for the images of Sam to come back, Dean’s fingers clawed against the bedspread, tugging on his cock relentlessly. Then his fingers nudged something - Sam’s bracelets.

Without thinking too hard, Dean clutched them in his fist, bringing both hands to wrap around himself and pressing the small, cool beads against his heated flesh. He still wanted more, needed something to cut through this haze of want and really make him feel. He wrapped the worn strings around the base of his dick, cinching tightly, and squeezing a whimper of pain through his lips. But that pain was just the spark he needed.

The urgency he’d been chasing before came rushing back, and visions of Sam above him, touching him, choking him, calling him a desperate, pathetic little cockslut, beat against the inside of his eyelids, and he was cumming harder than he could ever remember. He felt a white heat burning through every artery, vein, capillary in his goddamn body, and it brought him to an edge he never knew existed. It was agonising, and perfect.

Sam fucked his hips into Chase’s faster and faster. Their teeth met more often than their tongues as they kissed frantically, both reaching the ends of their tethers. Chase grabbed himself and pulled, beating himself faster and faster until he spilled into the sweat pooling between their bodies, groaning Sam’s name. Sam thrust harder and harder and froze, crammed so deep inside he barely fit, and then he was cumming; spilling his seed into Chase, and spilling Dean’s name from his lips.

*

Tags: Tag: @vulgar-library @jackandthesoulmates @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @whoreforackles @schaefchenherde​ @hawkerz12​ @dylansbabygirl24​ @mineshinamary​ @popsensationnicole23​ @spn-problems​ @donthateme454​ @doyouknowsamw​ @peridottea91​ @delightfulbakeryaliendeputy​ @fictionallemons​ @natastic​ @Marvelfansworld @half-closeted-bi-girl​ @j-ai-adore-dean​ @kiss-my-peachy-arse​ @tftumblin​ @alice101macwil​ @disneysloot​ @caitlinvd​ @crashlyrose​ @miufel​ @itsthedoctah10​ @leftlokiofpuppy​ @devilsbbyy​ @akshi8278​ @deandreamernp​@lyarr24​ @lovealways-j​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ 

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if... 10c

First off, right away, I know some were looking forward to a Mandorin wedding and Grogu joining them, but truth be told, the What If story would have ended up on 500k too if that was to happen, because the boys are still so very young and I love exploring their lives and their first times for everything too much to do a big time jump... So my deep apologies to the ones who were waiting for that, but hope that some sweet teenage feels can soothe the disappointment a little. And, yeah, while we might not reach that point in this fic, of course these two got married and adopted the little bean, just a bit later on in life <3

Second, this is a monster so beware of a chaotic mess of plenty of POVs behind the cut. The main story was Dulcy’s but here she shares it with the others. Beware of feels and maybe a familiar face or two ;)

And, again, THANK YOU to the supporters of this fic. I appreciate every kudos, re-read every comment a worrying amount of times and cherish the reblogs like beskar! (You guys have some of the best tags ever xD ) 

And Sprungich, this chapter is for you! <3 With the lovely coffee you provided, feel free to send me a message if there is a particular one-shot you would like to see happen! <3

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a Part 10b

Epilogue Everyone:

They have six entire months of just blissful happiness and fawning over their new family member, then Zev disappears. Again.

Dulsissia hates when she does that, but Davarax knows there is little they can do about it, except let her know that she’s always welcome home.

After nine days without a word, Zev’sonya reappears.

Standing right outside the entrance door, her face a mask of defiance as usual, Zev sticks her chin out. “Can my friend stay here too?”

Davarax shrugs. “Are they in trouble?”

“Yeah.” Zev replies. “His family is a bunch of mean jerks. He needs a safe place.”

Instantly filled with empathy, Dulsissia steps up next to Davarax. “Of course, baby.”

“Awesome.” Zev turns and gestures for her friend to step forward. “I said they were cool. Come on.”

Davarax instantly places his hand on his blaster while Dulsissia looks like she wants to scream but she’s too shocked to make any sound.

“This is Mose.” Zev’sonya declares with a grin.

A massive Hutt glares at them.

The silence stretches out until Zev’sonya reaches out and smacks the Hutt across the stomach. “Say hello, idiot.”

“Hello.” Mose grouses. A big drop of drool slides from his mouth.

Struggling to regain her words and the ability to form a comprehensible sentence, Dulsissia looks from one to the other until she ends up back with the Hutt. “Uhm, hello. N-nice to meet you?”

“He stays outside.” Davarax growls, not having that thing anywhere near where his children sleeps.

Zev’sonya frowns, but the Hutt nods and doesn’t seem surprised by the order.

A good thirty minutes later, Dulsissia is shoulder by shoulder with Davarax as they stand there and look out at where Corin and the others are cautiously approaching the Hutt, driven by youthful curiosity and bravery.

“That’s a Hutt.” Dulsissia says.

“Mhm.” Davarax confirms.

They continue to stare for a while, then she speaks again, a little worried this time. “What… what do Hutts eat?”

The size of their new arrival says whatever they eat, there will have to be a lot of it. Davarax is not thrilled at the idea of having to get even more credits to feed a Hutt. “Whatever doesn’t run fast enough, I think.” Davarax mutters. “Better keep an eye on that one, ner riduur.”

Dulsissia studies the Hutt. “He doesn’t seem… evil?”

“He’s a Hutt. I’ve seen what they can do.” Davarax declares in a hard voice. “They have their reputation for a reason.” He lets out a soft breath. “If he hurts one of our kids, he’ll find out that we Mandalorians have ours for a reason too. I will skin him alive.”

“If he hurts any one of them, you will have to get in line.” Dulsissia says. “But he hasn’t harmed anyone yet.”

To Davarax’ irritation, she then walks over to join in on the welcoming committee. She introduces herself, tries to put on her polite smile and only shudders a little at the drool dropping from the creature’s mouth and soaking his belly. “So, tell me, how did you meet our Zev?”

The Hutt gives her a blank stare. “She robbed me. I tried to kill her and she offered me a job.”

Dulsissia blinks. “Oh.”

Zev’sonya grins.

Davarax is not amused.

-

The day passes, so does the next and soon a week, and the Hutt does not harm anyone or try to eat any of them. Mose mostly keeps to himself. He sleeps in the shed Davarax and Din had set up for the speeder bikes, eats less than what a Hutt normally would and doesn’t really speak unless spoken to.

Davarax doesn’t relax, but he won’t end the Hutt’s life before he gives him a reason to as Zev’sonya really seems attached to him for some reason, almost to the point where he rivals her friendship with Din. So he watches and waits.

While he has trained and taught no small amount of children, Davarax have no real experience with babies. They are mystical beings to him, beautiful little wonders with endless potential, and his daughter is very much that. She amazes him when she starts to crawl around with curious determination to explore the world without any sign of fear. If something scares her, she watches it and frowns, but she will not back away and only cries when in pain.

There are moments when Davarax fears his heart will physically burst with pride.

So the horror he feels when he takes his eyes off his daughter for just a moment to reply to a message from Dulsissia, who is on a supply run with Corin and Din, and finds her gone; there are no words to describe it.

She’s not walking yet, but that little girl crawls at lightspeed when she sees something she wants to investigate and something must have caught her eye.

Davarax runs, panic snapping at his heels when he sees the doors are open to let some of the breeze into the too warm house, and his hand goes to his blaster as he sees his precious daughter having made it just outside the entrance door and is struggling to sit up in front of the massive Hutt standing there.

Nonono! Davarax can’t breathe, the fear is too strong and his fingers fumble at the hilt of his blaster and can’t quite get a grip. He’s never failed to draw his weapon before.

The girl reaches up and makes a curious coo.

Mose eases himself down, watches her for half a second, amused by her grabbing hands, then slowly reaches out and holds out a finger to her, which she eagerly takes a hold of and starts exploring.

Davarax’ panicked run morphs into a slow trot and then an awkward halt. He can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

Unaware of being watched, Mose’s mouth eases ever so slightly into a faint smile. His big eyes give a slow blink with a benign softness that doesn’t belong in a terrifying and cruel Hutt facing the offspring of the enemy.

And then he notices Davarax.

Mose quickly pulls himself back up into his usual towering posture, but him yanking his hand away unsettles the little girl and she topples backwards.

Another fierce jab of fear cuts into Davarax, but before he can do anything; Mose curls his tail behind her and prevents her from falling. He doesn’t take his eyes off Davarax while he does it, keeps staring, keeps holding himself upright and a big glob of drool soon leaks from the corner of his mouth.

Davarax frowns. He’s starting to put some pieces of a puzzle he didn’t want to see together. That posture is not the Hutt’s arrogance, as Davarax had concluded earlier, this is a defensive pose. This is an intimidation tactic to fend off attacks, not seek them out. And the drooling? Now that he thinks about it, Davarax can only remember the Hutt drooling around him and Dulcy.

-He’s scared. The realization comes sudden and hits hard.

And shortly after it, a question arises. How old is he? Mose is far from the tallest Hutt Davarax has ever seen and his body mass is skinny compared to them, it kind of says oversized teenager or young adult. The life expectancy for a Hutt would make them slow developers, no? He might be older than Davarax and Dulcy put together, but still a kid by Hutt standards, and Davarax never once considered it. A Hutt foundling? That’s one for the legends.

Walking over, Davarax bends down and picks up his daughter, noting how Mose cautiously withdraws his tail and curls it protectively around himself. More drool is slipping from his mouth.

Somehow Zev’sonya had seen this side of Mose, or sensed it somehow, and decided to bring him home instead of leaving him to be devoured by the other Hutts. His baby daughter had shown Mose nothing but curiosity and trust. Davarax decides to do the same. He looks over at Mose, who is barely breathing, and nods towards the house. “You can come in.”

For a second there is confusion on Mose’s face and then he mumbles; “The shed is fine.”

A thick dollop of drool hits the ground with a splat. That’s going to be annoying indoors.

“It’s not. You are a guest here.” Davarax heads inside again but pauses in the doorway. “Come on.”

Mose cautiously does as he’s told. He carefully squeezes in through the door and follows Davarax down the hallway. Eyes flickering nervously from doorway to doorway, drooling non-stop and twitching fingers reveal how uncomfortable he is, but Davarax feels a pinch of actual guilt when he stops by the room he wants to place the Hutt in and he turns around to see Mose no longer going for the towering intimidation pose but actually shrinks and somewhat cowers anxiously. Inside the house, the Hutt is at a disadvantage. His movements are restrained and Davarax is armed.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Davarax reassures him, hoisting his warbling daughter a little. “I know I haven’t been the friendliest and I apologize. I thought that you… Well, I thought wrong. And I’m sorry.” He turns and pushes the button to open the door to the room used for storing furniture. “I’ll get the others to help clear it out, but you can fit in here, right?”

“The shed is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“Yeah, you’ll fit in here.” Davarax then realizes something. “But we don’t really have Hutt beds. Will have to make one.”

“The floor is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“I’ll ask Barthor to set up some calculations. It’s going to have to be strong.” Davarax sighs. “Okay, so what else will we need. Maybe-”

“What’s going on here?” Zev’sonya’s voice is sharp. She stalks forward and places herself between him and Mose.

Davarax nods towards the open room. “We need to get the others and clean this out. For Mose.”

Zev’sonya blinks with surprise and then, for the very first time, she gives Davarax a genuine and bright smile. “Really?”

Momentarily stunned by the sweet, happy side of her, usually hidden behind frowns and scowls, Davarax has to clear his throat. “Yeah. Really. We can’t have guests sleeping out in the shed.”

“The shed is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“I’ll get the others.” Zev’sonya declares and runs off.

Davarax watches her, gives a faint shake of his head in amazement, then looks over at the awkward and heavily drooling Hutt. He sighs with a faint smile. One more troubled youngster. Why not.

-

Barthor is heading back to his speeder bike after finally getting his hands on the last computer chip he needs for his little project. He’s parked right outside of the small town and it shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes before he’s back home.

It shouldn’t, but it does.

Because as he steps outside the town walls, something wraps itself around his ankles, tightens and he drops like a roped tauntaun.

Training kicks in. Barthor instantly reaches for his blaster and his blade, seconds before he’s rolled over on his back to face his captor.

Blinking surprised, Barthor forgets to draw his weapons.

“Hello.” A voice says.

“Uh…” Barthor replies. “Hello?”

“They say you are very clever. Is that true?”

Barthor doesn’t do modesty. “I suppose so.” He gives his restrained ankles a pointed look. “Is that why you roped me? To ask me if I’m clever?”

“Maybe.” There is a flick of a wrist and the rope loosens so he can free himself. “Your friends seem more brawn than brain, which made me curious about you.”

Barthor gets up, a little tense. “They’re more clever than this entire town put together.”

“Loyal too?” A thoughtful hum. “You really are interesting, Barthor.”

“Wait. How do you know my name.” Barthor takes a step forward as they step away. “W-what’s your name?”

“Kaleo.”

“Do you have to go?” Barthor shrugs a little. “You can’t just rope some guy, ask him if he’s clever, insult his family and then walk away without an explanation, you know?”

A soft laugh. “I told you; I find you interesting.”

“The feeling is mutual…” Barthor mumbles. Then he twitches when they step away again. “Can I see you again?”

“Sure.”

“When?”

“When you find out where I live.”

Puzzled, Barthor shakes his head. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because you’re the clever one.” Is the reply. “You’ll figure it out.”

-

With the constant adding to their family, it comes as quite the shock when they lose one.

Davarax, Din and Paz are at a marked on the neighbouring planet when Din suddenly goes from half-asleep to full alert and shaking with eagerness.

Before Davarax can ask him what is going on, Din runs off.

It’s not difficult to track him down and when he does, Davarax instantly realizes why Din had reacted the way he did. He remembers the clothing on the corpses that littered the streets where he’d found Din and the man talking to Din right now is wearing that very thing.

It’s Din’s tribe. What’s left of it, anyway.

It’s a handful of people who have set up some stalls at the end of a marketplace. A couple of kids are running around in outfits similar to the one Din had worn when Davarax had brought him back to the Covert that first time.

Din is talking in a language he barely remembers, struggles a bit with the words and pronunciation, but the smile on his face is something Davarax can count on one hand he’s seen in the Covert. And when they go back home, there is a distance in his eyes that wasn’t there before and a heavy sadness settles in the pit of Davarax’ stomach.

Back home, Din instantly seeks out Corin to tell him about what had happened and for once he is the one eagerly talking while Davarax and Paz exchange quiet looks.

For the next week, Davarax spends no small amount of hours checking out the story of these people wearing clothes from Din’s tribe. He stalks and spies and learns as much about every individual as possible. He has to know they are who they say they are. He has to know they are good people.

They are.

Meanwhile, Dulsissia hugs Corin a little closer and a little more often that week, unable to explain to him why because she has a weak hope that she, Paz and Davarax might be wrong.

They’re not.

Din wants to go back and talk to them again and once he does, he learns that they are about to leave for the next planet on their path. After losing their home, they lead a rather nomadic life, searching for others from their tribe and lost relics to reclaim. They ask if Din will join them.

“Please don’t go…” Corin asks, tears in his eyes, holding on to Din’s arm as if he would float away into space if he didn’t.

“It’s just six months.” Din reassures him. “Then we are coming back here a-and we could-”

“What if we’re gone by then?” Corin blurts out, absolutely miserable.

“Then I’ll find you.” Din promises, reaching out and placing his hand behind Corin’s neck. “I’ll find you, okay?” He leans in and rests his forehead to his. “Stay safe. Look after the others. And we’ll talk again in six months.”

Silent tears running down his face, Corin gives a faint nod.

Din walks over to Dulsissia and lets her hug him, kiss his hair, squeeze his face and kiss his forehead with a patience he’s never show before. He even holds on to her a little longer than usual. Paz is furious and refuses to utter a word. Raga mutters for Din to look after himself. Zev’sonya is nowhere to be found. Barthor gives him a brief hug and wishes him luck.

Davarax waits a small distance away from the others. When Din walks over to him, Davarax has to clear his throat to speak. “You got everything you need?”

Din nods.

A heavy silence hangs between them for a moment before Davarax tells him in a quiet voice; “If you change your mind, if something happens, if… if anything, you send me a message and I’ll come for you. Day, night, one day from now, one week or a month, it doesn’t matter. You always have a place here, Din.”

Din nods and looks away, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

Davarax hesitates before speaking again. “Din, I…” I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I failed you.

Din looks back at him.

“Be careful out there.” Davarax says, hating himself for his cowardice. “And remember, if you need us, if you need me, I’m here. Always.”

Din nods again, a couple of tears breaking free and he turns and stalks towards where his tribe is waiting for him.

Dulsissia absently pulls Corin close as he heaves for air between the tears.

Paz turns and stalks back on board the Razor Crest, Raga follows, then Barthor, Dulsissia and Corin. Davarax is the last to leave, his eyes on Din for as long as he can see him...

-

Corin’s heart is broken. His best friend is gone. No, not just best friend… He and Din was… Whatever they were, it was special. It was not like anything he’s ever felt for or with anyone else.

A heavy sadness settles over their family for a long, long time. They all miss Din and it feels like they are missing a limb.

His parents find distraction in his sister. Paz and Raga find comfort in each other. Zev’sonya runs off and does whatever she does. Barthor keeps heading into town to be with this Kaleo person. Corin is the only one who can’t stop thinking about how Din isn’t there any more.

None of the girls and boys in town can take his mind off Din. Nothing can.

Which is probably why Davarax agrees to let Corin come along on a bounty hunting job. Usually he goes alone on these, but Corin asks and after a brief discussion with his mother, Davarax agrees.

“You do as I tell you. Understand? This is a hunt and they will do whatever it takes to escape. Including shooting us.” Davarax warns Corin as they enter the city to find their bounty.

“I understand.” Maybe getting shot at might cure the numb feeling inside?

It does. Once the first blaster shot flies by him, Corin yelps and flails and forgets all about being sad. He has to focus on surviving instead.

Davarax goes after their prey like a Corellian hound. Corin has gotten so used to seeing his mild and calm side that he’d almost forgotten how dangerous and brutal his dad can be if he wants to.

They chase after their bounty into an abandoned building so worn down it is barely standing.

“Stay here.” Davarax orders and uses his jetpack to fly up the middle of the winding stairs.

Corin stays, but when he leans forward against the railing to look up to see if Davarax had caught his prize; the railing just gives in and Corin falls.

Luckily he doesn’t drop more than a floor before he slams into the ground, but it’s enough to knock the air out of him and scramble his brain for a bit. (If not for his helmet, his brain would probably have been scattered all across the floor…)

When his blurry sight clears up, Corin realizes that what he thought were white pillars are moving and he rolls over on his back with a startled sound to see the storm troopers walking towards him. He fumbles for his blaster, but a kick to his hand sends the weapon sliding across the floor and then a storm trooper is pointing their blaster right at his t-visor.

Corin closes his eyes and prepares to die.

“Wait.” One of the troopers says. “Wait. Stop. Wait.”

Corin opens one eye and sees one trooper grabbing the arm of the one aiming at him.

“Look. That’s a kid.” The trooper preventing the other from shooting says. “You can’t shoot a kid, man.”

“He’s right.” A third trooper says, appearing next to them. “We don’t shoot kids, remember?”

“But this one has seen us.” The one with the blaster growls.

“The kid is not going to say anything.” The one who had prevented him from shooting says, then turns to Corin. “Right? You’re not going to say anything? You never saw us, kid. Right?”

Corin nods. Sure. Whatever. He’ll agree to anything as long as they don’t shoot him.

“Put the weapon down, Pat.” The third one says and takes off his helmet. It’s a man in his early twenties with dark hair and tired eyes. “Listen, kid, I’m sorry. We thought you were someone else. You run along.”

Growling, the one called Pat reluctantly holsters his blaster. “You better be right, Dee. If this kid gets us killed, I will never forgive you.”

The one who had stopped him from shooting reaches out a hand towards Corin. “Come on, kid. Upsy daisy.”

Dazed, not sure what the right thing to do is, Corin slowly reaches out and lets him pull him up on his feet. “T-thank you…”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. But you better get out of here.” The man says.

Dee puts his helmet back on. “Drop is right. Go.”

Corin takes one step, but then something heavy lands behind him.

“There you are, little Mando.” It’s the twi’lek man Davarax had been hired to hunt down.

Pat reaches out, grabs Corin’s shoulder and yanks him towards him and the others. “Stay down, kid!”

A mess of blaster fire follows. Corin is boxed in by white armor as the three take up a defensive stance around him and he can’t see what happens, just hears the battle. It’s over within a minute.

When the storm troopers step away, Corin sees the twi’lek lying there, dead, with a blaster in his hand that he’d meant to use on Corin.

“Someone will have heard that.” Dee says. “We have to get out of here. If the others find us, it’s all over.”

“Do you think we’ll get a trial?” Drop asks with a touch of hysterical humour.

“No. They’ll execute us in this shitty place.” Is Pat’s deadpan reply.

Dee turns back to Corin. “Go. Hurry. You don’t want to be here either if the imperial army decides to check out this place. And be careful.”

Corin opens his mouth to thank them when another heavy shape lands behind the storm troopers. An arm goes around Dee’s throat and he’s yanked back against unforgiving armor while Davarax lifts his blaster to fire at Pat. Drop instantly draws his own blaster.

“No!” Corin runs to stand between them, his helmet nearly touching the muzzle of Davarax’ blaster. “Don’t shoot them!”

Davarax hesitates, ignoring Dee’s wheezing attempts to pull his arm away from his throat. “Corin, what is going on here?”

-

After the explaining is done, Davarax reluctantly lets go of Dee, who stumbles forward into the protective grasp of his friends and coughs there for a moment while Davarax yanks Corin over to his side just in case.

“What are three storm troopers doing down here?” Davarax asks, suspicious.

“I think they are deserters…” Corin replies, looking at the three. “Am I right?”

“Hand the kid a medal.” Drop says with a wry smile in his voice. “Correct on the first try.”

Corin looks up at Davarax. “They can’t stay here. We have to help them, dad. Please?”

Davarax sighs.

And that is how he not only returns home with credits for a successful hunt and a revitalized Corin, but also with three ex-storm troopers in the cargo hold of the Razor Crest.

Dulsissia brings their daughter to greet them when the ship lands, only to freeze at the sight of what follows her husband and son off the ship.

“It’s okay, mom.” Corin reassures her. “They’re good guys. They saved my life.”

Dulsissia swallows down her fear and forces herself to put on a smile. As much as she hates that armor, she cannot hate men who has saved her son. “Then I am in your debt, sirs.”

While Davarax walks over and holds out his arms as the little girl eagerly reaches out for him, the storm troopers line up next to the ship and remove their helmets.

“Your son saved our lives in return, so I figure we are even, m’am.” Dee says.

Pat nods. The tallest of the three and with a semi-permanent scowl on his face.

Drop is staring at Dulsissia. “That is true. And something else that is true is the fact that you have to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, my lady. You don’t happen to need a new father to your charming son here?”

Davarax looks up from the toddler in his arms and his t-visor locks on Drop. “I think I changed my mind. I’m going to shoot you after all.”

Drop’s eyebrows flies up. “Oooh. You two are…? Oh. Ah. My bad.”

Flattered, Dulsissia smiles at Davarax. “I like these guys.”

Davarax grunts. “Yeah, I’m definitely shooting them.”

He doesn’t. Instead, the three are allowed to spend the night in the house and Davarax and Corin will head into town tomorrow to get them other clothes so they won’t be shot on sight. But the evening is spent with Davarax and Dee talking for hours over some strong smelling drink, speaking quietly and solemnly.

 Corin tries to eavesdrop, but he keeps getting distracted by Drop constantly trying to cheat to win the second round of the boardgame he had challenged just about everyone to join in on.

Paz, Raga and Barthor had all been a little bit taken back when three storm troopers walked into the house, but then Paz shrugged and decided to just go with it as it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d experienced since leaving the Covert. Raga and Barthor couldn’t ague against that.

Zev’sonya and Mose have no opinion as they have disappeared again. Corin wonders what Din would think. He hates storm troopers. Din would probably never allow a storm trooper to stay with him.

The next day, in town, looking for clothing that will fit the men, Corin is not prepared to make another friend in such a short time.

“Hi.” A voice says as Corin tries to decide between two different leather jackets for Dee and it startles him into jumping around to face the culprit.

The owner of the voice is a brightly smiling blond boy around Corin’s own age. He is broad shouldered and clearly no stranger to staying in shape, but his incredibly cheerful attitude drowns out almost everything else about him. “You need help with that? Go with the left one. Way cooler.”

Corin blinks. “O-kay… Thank you?”

“No problem.” The boy steps closer. “I’m Leo. What’s your name?”

“Corin…” Corin decides Leo is right. The left one ‘is’ way cooler. He hangs back the other. “I haven’t seen you around here before?”

“I’ve just arrived with my family.” Leo happily shares. “My mom brought my dad to this place. He’s sick. There’s a doctor here that they say can help him.”

“Oh…” Corin shudders at the idea of either of his parents getting sick and it must be horrible not to have any friends in a new place during such a time. “So, uh, I’m looking to buy my, uh, uncles some clothes. All three of them. For their birthday. Today.”

Leo frowns a little. “They’re all born on the same day?”

“They’re triplets.” Corin lies with a tense smile. “You wanna help me pick out the rest?”

Brightening again, Leo coughs once and then nods eagerly. “Sure. Yeah. Awesome.”

-

Dulsissia is relieved to notice that things improve a little after that. The former troopers are eager to abandon their armor, which Davarax throws out of the airlock somewhere in space, and Dulsissia is pleased to discover a house for rent not too far away from their own where they can hide out and decide their next move. (Dee swears to pay them back and will not hear of anything else.)

Plus her son has made a new friend who seems to be able to cheer him up again, which makes Leo a very welcome guest in her eyes.

Paz bullies Leo a little but loses interest when it’s like kicking a defenceless Porg. Raga and Barthor both treat him with mild indifference. Davarax appears a little overwhelmed by the boy’s enthusiasm and habit of holding on to an uncomfortable subject, but her baby boy is finally laughing again and that is music to Dulsissia’s ears.

A little over two months pass before the next incident occurs.

At the shooting range they had set up behind the house, Dulsissia aims her blaster at the target despite little hope of actually hitting it as long as Davarax’ mouth is on her neck and his hand slides across her stomach to urge her to lean back against him. She fires and misses and doesn’t care as that gives her the excuse to twist around a little to making him move his lips up to hers.

Dulsissia knows how important it is to be improving her aim, but her husband is so incredibly attractive, sweet, kind, caring and the best kisser ever, so…

Davarax suddenly pulls away to prod at his vambrace. “Sorry, I…” He prods some more before stalking over to pick up his helmet. “Just…”

Dulsissia waits while he puts his helmet back on and listens to the message he’d just received. Whomever had contacted him had to be someone of importance for him to react like this, so she feels worry instead of annoyance at the interruption.

A little while later, he removes his helmet and Davarax sends her a wide-eyed look. “It’s Din.”

“Din?” Dulsissia’s worry triples. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah.” Davarax replies, sounding a little dazed. Then a faint smile appears. “He wants to come home.”

Getting Din back feels wonderfully right. Dulsissia feels no small amount of relief seeing the teenager again and find him looking healthy and unharmed. He even smiles when Paz hugs him a little too hard.

Everyone except the absent Zev’sonya and Mose are eager to welcome him home, especially Corin. Her sweet son has been climbing the walls since he heard Din was coming back and finally the two are reunited again.

“So much has happened while you were gone.” Corin declares. “Nemi is starting to walk. Barthor keeps sneaking off on dates with this person he thinks we don’t know about. I went on a bounty hunting mission with Dad and met these three awesome dudes who saved my life and are now our neighbours. And I can’t wait for you to meet Leo! Mom said I could invite him for dinner so you can say hello.”

“Our dear neighbours are coming over to dinner as well. I invited them.” Dulsissia adds, with a touch of glee as it makes Davarax groan. She knows he gets along really well with Dee, but Pat is too tense to relax around and Drop winds the youngsters up even more than hyper-sugar.

Din exhales with a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I missed out on a lot, huh?”

Paz reaches out and smacks the back of his head. “That’s what you get for leaving, idiot.”

Deliberately falling behind a bit while the teens stalk towards the house, Dulsissia hoists the toddler on her arm before looking over at the quiet Davarax walking next to her. He’s watching Din.

“Did he tell you why he wanted to come back?” Dulsissia asks.

“No.” Davarax replies, sounding uncomfortably solemn. “He hasn’t said much of anything.”

“You think they were mean to him?”

“No.” Davarax says again. “He wasn’t angry or scared or resentful or… or anything. Sad, if I was to make a guess. But he was quite determined to leave.” He sighs. “If he wants us to know, Din will tell us in his own time.”

Dulsissia hopes he’s right.

-

They are going to have to move. The house is nowhere near big enough for all the souls who have come into their lives, but Dulsissia realizes that she’s going to miss this place. She’s grown so very fond of it. There are so many good memories here. And they keep creating more.

Barthor is sitting by the kitchen table with Nemi on his lap, keeping her entertained and hiding from the lively ruckus in the living room where there is far too much activity and far too many people for his taste.

Dulsissia is mixing up some treats on a plate when Davarax appears to hover in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Need some help?” He asks.

“No, but thank you for asking, cyare.” Dulsissia replies. She glances back at him. “Things okay in there?”

Davarax leans his shoulder against the door frame and sighs. “I think having Drop and Leo in one room might cause a black hole to appear. That kind of energy is not natural.”

Giggling a little, Dulsissia adds some fruit to the plate as well. “Leo is a sweetheart.” She glances back at Davarax again and sees Paz hovering behind him and trying to sneak into the kitchen but is being blocked by the man. “And Drop is always welcome in our house.” 

It’s mean of her to tease but it is kind of flattering to see Davarax’ eyes narrow a little as he’s reminded of how interested Drop had been at the very first sight of her. Dulsissia purses her lips thoughtfully. “I wonder how he got his nickname?”

“Probably because his parent dropped him on his head while he was a baby.” Davarax mutters.

This is when Paz loses patience, wraps his arms around Davarax’ waist and simply picks him up.

What follows is probably the most hilarious thing Dulsissia has ever seen in her entire life.

The raw shock and utter disbelief on Davarax’ face as his arms and legs flail while he’s unceremoniously moved to the side and set back down again is something she will remember until the day she dies. Even after Paz has set him back on his feet and simply saunters into the kitchen to find himself something to drink, Davarax stumbles away from him and glues his back to the wall, looking horrified. He’s not a small and frail man, by far, and probably hasn’t been lifted since he was a child. If anything, Davarax is the one to pick other people up and move ‘them’ out of his way.

But Paz is now quite a bit taller than him and he’s gaining muscle by the day. Davarax watches him warily as he saunters back out and even takes a step away so not to risk humiliation again.

“Welcome to my world.” Barthor mutters.

Dulsissia breaks down laughing, wishing she had a way to immortalize the look on Davarax’ face.

Din greets Dee, Pat and Drop with polite distance, but he does brighten a bit when, to Dulsissia’s surprise, Zev’sonya and Mose suddenly appear in the doorway.

“I heard you were coming back.” Zev says with a grin, reaching out a hand towards Din, and they pull each other close for a brief hug/bump against each other.

“I had to come back and make sure you stay out of trouble.” Din replies with a grin of his own.

Over by where Dulsissia and Corin are sitting, Leo grabs her son’s arm with a soft gasp. “Is that your sister?” Unlike the gawking ex-troopers, he seems oblivious to the Hutt standing there as well.

Corin looks over at where Zev’sonya is bragging to Din about whatever she and Mose have been up to, nothing legal would be Dulsissia’s guess, and Corin makes a face. “No. She’s, uh, it’s complicated. She kind of lives here with us. Sometimes.”

Leo can’t seem to take his eyes off her. “Dude, you got to introduce me to her.”

Corin frowns. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to marry her.”

Corin looks somewhere between amused and genuinely scared for Leo’s safety and sanity. “Maybe you shouldn’t say that so she can hear it…”

“I’m in love.” Leo breathes, still with his eyes glued on Zev. “Come on, man. Introduce me.”

Corin looks over at Dulsissia, who shrugs. If Leo wants to risk his life, who are they to deny him? And maybe, hopefully, that sweet boy can be a good, calming influence on the troubled girl?

Dulsissia leans back and watches as Corin and Leo walk over and the introduction is made. It’s no surprise that Zev’sonya’s immediate reaction is to scowl and throw her emotional walls up, but Leo isn’t put off. He’s gentle in his approach, careful, like he’s defusing a bomb, but he’s not scared.

Dulsissia is about to smile, but then she sees Din’s face and she doesn’t feel like smiling anymore.

He’s looking at Leo with something dangerously close to hatred in his dark eyes.

-

When things wind down for the night, Dee, Drop and Pat agree to walk Leo home, despite the blond’s objections that he’s perfectly capable of getting there by himself. Dulsissia sends with them food and snacks, knowing they’re still finding their footing as civilians, and doesn’t know what makes her flush the hardest; Dee’s soft kindness, Pat’s intense respect or Drop’s shameless flirting as they fight to thank her.

She looks over at where Corin and Leo are saying goodbye, the blond making Corin promise to be his best man at his and Zev’s wedding, and the two laugh before Corin gives him a gentle kov’nyn and shoves Leo into Drop’s arms.

Din is nowhere to be found.

After they clean up, one by one they saunter off to their rooms.

Her riduur is one of the last to go. The long journey to get Din had Davarax start yawning early in the evening and now he’s close to falling asleep on his feet, so he only puts up a weak fight when Dulsissia orders him to bed while she finishes up the last bits of the cleaning.

Plus there are a couple of things she has to clear up before she has any chance of finding sleep.

Dulsissia piles food on a plate before heading to the backdoor and stepping outside the house.

Mose is lounging on the grass, staring up at the stars, but he carefully pushes himself up when he sees her approaching him. His gaze flicker cautiously from the plate to her face and back again.

“Here.” Dulsissia holds the plate out for him. If someone had told her that she’d be worrying over the well-being of a Hutt when she was younger, she would have laughed her head off. “I noticed you didn’t eat much earlier. You got to be hungry.”

Mose hesitates before slowly reaching out and accepting the plate. “Thank you.”

But Mose isn’t the only one who is on her mind tonight. “Do you know where Din is?”

Mose lifts his tail and points towards the Razor Crest.

Of course. His favourite place. Dulsissia sighs and pats Mose’s arm as she walks by him on the way to the ship. “Eat up and then get some rest, baby.”

Mose watches her leave in silence.

The Razor Crest’s left ramp, the one out of sight of the house, is lowered and Dulsissia makes her way up it and into the ship. Once inside, she sees Din right away.

He’s sitting on one of the fold-down seats in the cargo hold, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Din?” Dulsissia speaks softly, hoping not to scare him. “Are you okay?”

Jolting into an upright sitting position, Din stares wide-eyed at her. “Dulcy. Yeah. Yeah, I-I’m fine.”

He’s lying. It’s obvious. Sighing, she takes a step forward and gestures towards the seat next to him. “Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“I don’t mind.” Din looks cornered and almost a bit scared.

Sitting down, Dulsissia looks over and fights the urge to hug him close. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” The answer comes a little too fast and his voice is too weak for it to be true.

“You can tell me, baby.” Dulsissia reassures him. “I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

Din is about to say something but then he pauses and his eyes flicker for a moment before he asks, quietly, cautiously; “You promise?”

Dulsissia places one of her hands over his and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I promise.”

Din hesitates, then takes a deep breath and looks towards the open ramp. “I just thought… I thought that being with my parents people, it would feel like home. I thought I’d finally feel like I belonged. But… I didn’t. All I could think about was going back to you guys.”

Her heart shivers with pain, but Dulsissia is careful to keep her voice free of it. “You left because you didn’t feel like you belonged with us?”

Din turns his gaze down to the floor. “You feel like family to me…”

There is something unspoken at the end there. Dulsissia squeezes his hand again. “But?”

Din doesn’t answer right away. He tenses up and his breathing becomes a bit laboured and choppy, as if trying to fight back a wave of emotions, but eventually he loses and Din looks up at her with tears in his eyes. “He adopted Corin!” The tears begin to slide down Din’s face. “He found me, he saved my life and taught me almost everything I know, but he gave me away to those people and then adopts Corin. What is wrong with me? W-why doesn’t he want me…?”

“Oh, baby…” Dulsissia whispers and gently eases him into leaning over so she can hold him close, running a comforting hand up and down his back while his shoulders shake with grief. “Sweet, sweet baby. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Davarax simply thought you’d be happier with parents who could be with you instead of him who had to leave all the time. And he knew how dangerous his work was. It was not because he didn’t love you. He does.”

“He’s got you, Corin and Nemi now. He has his family.” Din whispers. “If I hadn’t come back, no one would have cared.”

“That’s not true.” Dulsissia argues gently. “We all missed you terribly.”

“Yeah. I saw.” Din’s voice takes on a sharp edge. “Corin missed me so terribly he replaced me with the first cute guy he could find.”

Petting the dark hair, Dulsissia sighs. “Din, Corin doesn’t think of Leo that way at all. They’re just friends. You don’t have to be jealous of Leo, trust me.”

Din pulls back to stare at her with a startled look, despite the tears still making his cheeks shine. “I didn’t mean… I’m not jealous.”

That makes Dulsissia smile a little. “Yeah. You are.” She wipes away a tear from his face. “Leo is a nice boy, but he couldn’t steal Corin away from you even if he wanted to.”

Din flushes and his gaze slides away, too embarrassed to meet hers.

“Din.” Dulsissia makes him look at her again. “You have a home with us. You do belong with us. We all love you.”

That brings a faint smile to Din’s face and he lets her pull him into another hug and this time, he hugs her back.

-

The conversation helps, but it doesn’t solve everything.

Dulsissia can see the tension to Din’s shoulders and the hint of anger in his eyes at times. And his patience becomes close to non-existent. Especially when it comes to Paz sliding right back into the role as his protector and supervisor.

“You don’t like those.” Paz says as Din reaches for some spicy spinach at dinner. He takes a hold of the tongs and puts some other vegetables on Din’s plate instead. “Here.”

Dulsissia sees the spark in Din’s eyes half a second before he explodes.

“Maybe I’ve started to like them!” Din shouts, making everyone turn to stare at him.

“You don’t like them!” Paz shouts back. “You refused to eat them the day before you left, idiot!”

Davarax glares over at them. “Hey! Tone it down. Now.”

Din grits his teeth and stares at his plate. Paz looks tense enough to want to punch him. But they leave it that. That day.

Because that is just the start. More shouting matches follow and the comments go from angry to mean as the tempers keep growing hotter and hotter.

When Din stalks off after bellowing that he regrets coming back, Dulsissia decides it has gone on long enough as she sees the hurt in Paz’ eyes. She inches over to the boy who now towers over her. “Paz…?”

Exhaling his anger, now just sad and tired, Paz looks over at her. “Yeah?”

Dulsissia puts on her most innocent face. “I was wondering if I could ask you a huge favour?”

He shrugs. “Sure.” While he was rumoured to be sullen and uncooperative at the Covert, Paz has always been incredibly amiable and helpful to her. Her sweet giant boy.

“I’ve been super-busy lately, got a lot of projects going on and with my blaster training and… Well, you know how it is.” Dulsissia lets out a dramatic sigh. “I could really need a little help with Nemi.”

Paz actually smiles a little. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do, actually.” Dulsissia insists, giving him her doe eyes. “I’m serious, Paz. I would really appreciate your help.”

“Why me?” Paz asks. “Why not Davarax or Corin?”

“Davarax, well, I don’t want him to do more than his share. And Corin has his mind on other things these days. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. I can probably ask-”

“No. I’ll do it.” Paz shoots in. “No problem. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

Dulsissia almost smiles. She could have had a great career in the Imperial army with her evil genius.

“Cyare?” Davarax’ voice says, half a day later. His voice worrying sweet and high pitched.

“Yes, cyare?” Dulsissia replies, curious.

He steps into the room where she’s doing adjustments on her helmet. “Do you mind telling me why I come home to find that our daughter has been kidnapped by a 6”7 man-child who told me he would, and I quote; knock my helmet off if I woke her up after he just got her to sleep?”

Giggling, Dulsissia wanders over to give him a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I asked him to help out.”

Davarax frowns. “Why? Are you okay? I could-”

“Din and Paz have been fighting a lot lately. Din wants to stand on his own feet and Paz is too overprotective to let him so I decided to defuse things by directing Paz’ paternal instincts over to someone who wouldn’t mind.”

Sighing, Davarax returns the sign of affection and places a light kiss on her forehead. “I love how you love these kids and how you want them all to get along, but those two? With their tempers and stubbornness, I fear they might be doomed to be butting heads while killing anyone who dares to hurt the other.”

Dulsissia fails to hold back a smug smile. “Let’s see, shall we?”

-

At dinner, Din sends Paz a defiant look as he reaches for the spinach again, ready to erupt the second Paz makes a comment, but ends up having to ease some over on his plate without a word as Paz is too busy tending to Nemi trying to rub her food into her hair to care what Din is doing.

(Din still doesn’t like spinach and ends up just pushing it around on his plate with a frown.)

As days go by, Din tries to provoke one way and the other, determined to show he is the master of his own life and that Paz doesn’t get to tell him what to do, but time and again; Paz is distracted by the child and ends up ignoring Din all together.

Ignoring him little too much, as it turns out. Because one day Dulsissia sees Din stare after Paz’ retreating back as he carries Nemi off to fetch the toys she wants and she sees the sad slump to Din’s shoulders and the lost expression on his face. First Davarax, then Corin, and now Paz, Din thinks he’s lost them all.

Oh no. Her plan is working too well! Curse her evil genius.

Dulsissia considers interfering again, but luckily she doesn’t have time to conjure up another plan before she gets to witness Din inch over to where Paz and her daughter are building with blocks on the floor. Din asks what they’re up to, listens and nods and then cautiously offers to help.

Paz looks up at him, surprised, then lights up and gestures for him to sit down with them.

Together they watch over and help the little one. There is not a single harsh word between them.

“Fine…” Davarax mutters as he comes to a halt next to where Dulsissia is lurking and spying on them. “You win. Your little trick is working.” He nuzzles her neck. “Jedi witch.”

Quietly cackling, offering up her neck, Dulsissia feels unbearably smug. “No trick. Just logic. You Mandalorians really do love to complicate things.”

But Dulsissia’s evil plan do affect another victim when Paz and Raga are in the middle of another make-out session in the living room, which Dulsissia is pretty sure is just to annoy Davarax, and when her daughter makes an unhappy whine, Paz instantly breaks the kiss to see what is going on.

Barthor awkwardly adjusts the child in his arms but she is clearly still not pleased.

“You’re holding her all wrong.” Paz states, taking a hold of Raga’s hips, lifts her off his lap and sets her mindlessly aside so he can walk over to Barthor to show him what he’s doing wrong.

Raga rolls her eyes and flops down to lie on the sofa with a frustrated groan. She sends Dulsissia a glare.

Dulsissia responds with an apologetic smile.

She’s not forgiven.

Pleased that she had managed to salvage the friendship between Din and Paz, Dulsissia decides to take the chance. “Dav?” She speaks into the darkness of the night as the two are curled up together in bed.

“Mmh?” He mumbles against her shoulder.

“You have to talk to Din.”

There is a moment of silence, then Davarax lifts his head to look down at her, what little he can see in the darkness. “Is he okay? What’s wrong? Did he tell you something?”

“I promised not to tell anyone.” Dulsissia replies. “Just… please talk to him.”

Davarax hesitates, then slowly lies back down again. He doesn’t say anything, but he is awake for a long, long time after that.

-

All it takes is a simple question if Din wants to help him do some repairs on the Razor Crest and Davarax has the boy eagerly trotting along towards what he fears will be a rather uncomfortable conversation. Something is clearly wrong and odds are that it’s Davarax’ own doing.

Davarax has a moment of soft affection when he sees the adoration in Din’s eyes when he looks at the trusty old ship. He might be the only one who loves her as much as Davarax himself does.

They work in the cockpit in silence for a bit until Davarax manages to build up his courage.

Sighing, he wipes his oily hands on a horribly oily rag. “Din?”

“Yeah, yeah, almost done.” Din replies, half-way under the control panel.

“Just… leave it for a bit.” Davarax says. “I want to talk to you.”

Din’s body freezes. He breathes once, twice, then he inches out and looks up at where Davarax is sitting in the pilot seat. His face is awfully pale behind the smudges of oil. “She told you.”

“Nobody told me anything.” Davarax reassures him. “Whatever secrets you have, they are still yours. I just want to make sure you’re okay. A lot can happen in two months.”

Staring at him, studying his face, Din eventually relaxes a little as he can’t see whatever he fears seeing in Davarax’ eyes. He clears his throat, inches himself further out so he can sit up. “I’m fine.”

“You hardly said a word the entire ride back home, Din. You’ve been fighting non-stop with Paz. I barely see you with Corin anymore. You’re not fine.” Davarax says, firm but gentle. “Will you let me help?”

Frowning, Din stares at him and there’s a touch of anger there. “So now you care?”

Davarax blinks, not expecting that. “I always care.” And the snort Din gives at that feels like a slap to Davarax’ face. He reaches out and places a hand on Din’s shoulder, making him meet his eyes. “Din. I care.”

The teenager tries for a defiant stare, but there is hurt there and Davarax realizes this is why Dulcy had told him to talk to Din. Guilt settles on Davarax’ shoulders and weighs him down so hard he can barely breathe. “You think I don’t care? Why? Because I let you leave?”

Din shrugs.

“I didn’t want you to leave, Din. Of course I didn’t. But you wanted to go, you wanted to be with them, and what you want is more important to me than what I want. It wasn’t because I didn’t care.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you gave me away…” Din mumbles quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Davarax opens and shuts his mouth a couple of times. Oh, the guilt is so heavy it hurts now. “Din, I…” He gently squeezes the boy’s shoulder and makes him look back up at him again. “I’m sorry that didn’t work out. I thought… I just thought that it would be better for you to have a steady family, someone who didn’t leave all the time and who might not come back alive. I wasn’t in a good place back then, Din. But I never stopped caring. I still care. I will always care.”

“You have a new family now.” Din mumbles. “I have no one, because no one wants me.”

“Hey.” Davarax places his other hand on Din’s other shoulder, holding a little too tight but unable to stop himself “My family? You are a part of that. You always will be. Nothing can ever change that. From the very first time I saw you, the second you gave me your trust, you were family to me.”

Din’s eyes grow blank with tears and he smiles a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms, then leans a little closer to give him a pointed look. “You’re the only one I’d trust to look after the Razor Crest if I end up parking my slippers for good.”

Din’s smile widens and turns genuine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms again, now with a faint laugh. He gives him a light shake before he gets up and pulls Din up on his feet too so he can hug him close. Feeling Din’s arms go around him in return and how tights he holds on makes Davarax’ heart shrivel up with even more guilt. “I’m sorry, Din. I’m sorry I let them adopt you. I’m sorry you thought I didn’t care whether you left or not. I’ll try to do better from now on. I promise.”

“S’okay.” Din mumbles, his face buried into Davarax’ chest.

“You forgive me?”

Din nods.

Davarax runs his hand over Din’s smooth hair. He doesn’t deserve his forgiveness after so many mistakes, but that’s not his decision to make. All he can do is try to keep from making more and not have Din regret his kindness. “Thank you.”

Din merely hugs him harder.

-

When Din and Davarax return to the house, Dulsissia is relieved to hear Din talking like he used to; relaxed and almost playful with his great hero by his side. Davarax is smiling too.

She hides in the kitchen, doesn’t want to interfere, but she’s dying to ask. It takes no small amount of will-power for her to just wait.

Finally Davarax walks into the kitchen.

She turns to face him, about to start talking, when his hands cup her face and he leans down to give her a couple of soft, lingering kisses on her lips, before kissing her forehead and just pulling her into a tight, lingering hug as he sighs.

“Why do you put up with me?” Davarax asks.

“Because you’re hot.” She replies. Then she leans back and looks up at him. “So, you talked to him?”

“Yeah.” Davarax gingerly eases a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

Smiling, Dulsissia goes up on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

-

Luckily Leo is busy harassing Zev and Barthor is off to be with his mystery date, so Din gets to have Corin all to himself when they head into town to buy some supplies.

A lot has happened in the two months Din has been away, that much is clear by Leo’s arrival and them suddenly having three uncles now (who, Din had been horrified to learn, are in reality three storm troopers who have defected and will be shot if discovered.), yet the biggest change is the one he’s currently witnessing.

“Two? Are you sure I can’t get three for that price, Tahm?” Corin says to the shop-keeper’s daughter. He smiles, holds her gaze and even tilts his head a little. “Pretty please?”

The girl giggles and flushes.

Corin reaches out and slides a finger along her jawline and leans a little closer as he lowers his voice. “Pretty, pretty please?”

Din blinks. Corin is gorgeous. He’s always been a good looking kid, sure, Din isn’t blind and people have been talking, but over time Corin has gone from cute to gorgeous and… he’s clearly aware of it. There is nothing modest about the wink he gives that girl. Or the look he gives the young man who ends up selling them his wares to half of his original asking price.

“What was that?” Din asks as they load the bags up on the speeder bike.

“What was what?” Corin asks in return, fastening one bag.

“That.” Din insists. “Back there. The… that. The thing. You did.”

Corin snorts a laugh before glancing over at Din with a wicked grin. “Making them give me a discount? Leo taught me. It’s easy. You should do it too.”

Din feels his face heat up. “I don’t think I…”

Corin steps over, a little too close, and looks at him with bright, earnest eyes. “You could totally pull if off too, Din.” He touches Din’s jawline with light fingertips and the skin burns.

“I’m not…” Din swallows, his heart racing like crazy. “I’m not pretty. Like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Corin laughs a little. “Din, you’re beautiful.” He leans in, gives Din a minor heart attack, and gently places his forehead to Din’s before turning back to the speeder bike again.

Din can barely breathe.

“I think that was everything?” Corin says. “Let’s go.” He gets on the bike, looks over at Din when he doesn’t move and raises his eyebrows. “Din?”

“Yeah…” Din croaks, forcing his legs to work. “Okay…” He gets on the bike too.

-

“No.” Zev snarls. “Go away.”

“Come on.” Leo whines, trailing after her. “One date. If you still hate me after, I will leave you alone. Pretty please?”

“I cannot think of a single thing that would change my mind about hating you, so I see no point.” Zev’sonya declares, chin held high and refusing to look at him.

“I could surprise you.” Leo tempts her. He coughs a couple of times before continuing. “One date, Zev. One!”

Zev’sonya wrinkles her nose. “You’re just going to give me your cold.”

Leo shakes his head. “I’m not-” Suddenly his gaze shifts over to something behind her and he frowns.

By the time she has turned around to see what he’s staring at, Leo is already running towards the three brats ganging up on Mose and trying to provoke him into a fight. By the time she’s caught up with him, Leo has already knocked one of the brats out.

The fight is over within minutes. Once Zev’sonya has made sure Mose is okay, hating how resigned he is to being hated and loving how Leo is huffing with offence on his behalf, she makes her choice.

“One date.” Zev’sonya says.

Leo spins around to face her, eyes huge and jaw dropping. “Really?! Wait, why? Wait, I don’t care.”

“One.” She underlines.

Leo nearly nods his head off and she has to hide the smile threatening to break free.

-

Din can’t forget about it. Can’t forget about watching Corin flaunting his good looks, the touch of his fingers and the kov’nyn… He can’t forget about it!

For years Corin has been his best friend. He felt so lucky to have him as his friend. He still does. But… it is getting harder and harder to be happy for Corin when others look at him the way Din does when Corin is not paying attention.

And after hearing Corin call ‘him’ beautiful, after having his full attention like that, Din can’t karking forget about it!

Din sits on Corin’s bed, thinking about this, when Corin enters the room again after he’d headed out to raid the kitchen for something to snack on. He returns victorious with a plate of cookies.

Sitting down on the bed as well, Corin places the plate between them and grins. “Mom said no, but then I gave her the eyes and she folded. I am a genius.”

“How… how do you do it?” Din asks, his pulse thrumming under his skin after daring to ask.

“As I said,” Corin inches closer so his knee almost touches Din’s, “it’s easy. All you have to do is keep eye contact.” He looks directly into Din’s soul with those incredible eyes of his. “Add a smile.” His lips curve into a smile that sends a frightful heat into Din’s blood. “And if you really need to bring in the big guns…” Corin reaches out and places his hand on Din’s knee. “...touch.”

Oh, Din swallows hard, struggles to find his voice. “I don’t think… it’ll work if I do that.”

“It definitely will.” Corin reassures him. “Your face? You will get whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Din asks, his pulse thrumming in his throat.

“Definitely.”

“Okay…” Din gathers his courage. “Eye contact.” He moves a little closer, so their knees not only touch but cross each other a little. “Smile.” Din forces his mouth to shape into what he hopes is a careful but appealing smile. (He sees Corin’s gaze dart down to his lips for a second and it makes his hear jump.) “Touch…” Din reaches up and carefully cups the side of Corin’s face, runs his thumb along his cheekbone. “Like this?”

A slight flush creeps into Corin’s cheeks. “I, uh, yeah…”

Din is keenly aware of how he’s pushing his luck, but he can’t make himself stop. “Now what?”

Corin is staring at him. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you want?” Corin almost whispers.

Din can’t say it, couldn’t say it to save his life, so he just looks at Corin’s lips with unspoken longing, hating himself for being such a coward. He just fears that if he gets a taste, he won’t survive seeing someone else kiss those lips…

“Okay.” Corin says, as if Din had spoken out loud, and before Din can ask him what he means; Corin leans in, tilts his head and gently touches his lips with his.

Din inhales sharply, startling Corin and causes him want to pull back, but Din’s hand flies up to grab his shoulder and hold him there. And then Din is the one to move closer to touch his lips to Corin’s.

It is such a sweet feeling. Soft, warm, cautious and fragile, and utterly perfect.

“I missed you so much…” Corin whispers, eyes closed and lips brushing his as he speaks.

Din’s throat snares up with a thousand feelings. “I missed you too. All the time.” They share another kiss before he can speak again. “Corin, I… I like you.”

That brings a soft laugh from Corin, startling Din a little into leaning back, but Corin merely grins at him. “I like you too, stupid. I kind of hoped we were past the obvious bit when we started kissing?”

Din’s face flushes hot. “I…”

“I kind of thought you did, was waiting for you to say something,” Corin says, shrugging one shoulder, “but then you left and I thought that meant you didn’t like me after all, but then you came back and… Well… “

“How did you know…?” Din mumbles, dying of embarrassment. He’d been so careful!

That makes Corin laugh again. “It was pretty obvious, Din. Come on.” He leans close again and smirks. “You’re always so nice to me. Not nice like with the others. Extra nice. And… you look at me a lot.”

Din’s face is about to melt off his skull. “I…”

Corin is dangerously close now. “You want to look some more or should we go back to kissing?”

Din stutters.

Laughing, Corin sits back up and grabs a cookie. “I’m sorry.” He munches on the cookie. “I’ll be good.”

Din’s heart is beating a thousand beats a second. He can’t stop staring. “You don’t have to.” He clears his throat. “Be good, that is. You can be… whatever you was just being. That’s… that’s fine.”

Corin lowers the cookie. “Yeah…?”

“I-if you want to.” Din adds cautiously.

Corin eagerly leans closer. “I really, really want to.”

Din grins, a little more confident. “Good.” He moves closer, both of them ignoring the plate tumbling to the floor, reaching up to touch Corin’s face. “Because I really want you to.”

Din is not a good kisser, he knows, it’s not something he has practised too much, but oh Corin is. Din follows his lead, moves his lips as softly and sweetly as he does, and can’t decide whether he’s grateful for Corin knowing how to do this or viciously hating every person who has kissed him. In the end, it doesn’t matter, Din is just weak with happiness.

-

“Obvious? What do mean it was obvious?” Din snaps, not expecting this kind of nonchalance from Paz when he confessed that he and Corin have become… a thing.

Paz shrugs, adjusting the wrapping around his left hand. “It just was. Everyone could see it.”

“Everyone?” Din asks with utter disbelief.

“Yup.” Raga confirms, delivering some hard hits that has the punching bag make a sound like it is groaning with pain. “Everyone.”

Din sinks down to sit on a crate, stunned by shock and horrible embarrassment. “But you never said anything?”

“I wanted to.” Paz says. “Believe me.”

“But Dulcy told him not to.” Raga throws a vicious punch. “I think she and Davarax have a bet going on which of you would make the first move.”

Din hides his face in his hands and groans.

-

Zev’sonya cannot believe she’s agreed to this. It was a moment of madness, that’s all. She got carried away after punching those jerks who bullied Mose and that blond idiot just happened to be there with his stupid date request.

What was she thinking?

Zev’sonya sighs as she looks at herself in the mirror. She’s clean, the clothes she’s wearing are whole, all the daggers and blades are hidden, that is good enough, isn’t it? Or do humans have other standards for this… dating thing?

She sees Mose’s reflection as he is standing behind her and scowls at the grin on his face.

“Don’t.” Zev’sonya warns, but his grin only widens so she flees before he can say anything.

Leo had wanted to come and pick her up, but she refused and insisted on her meeting him by his house. Bad enough Mose knows, but if Din and the others learns of this… ‘date’, there would be no end to the comments.

Approaching the house, Zev’sonya is surprised to see Leo sitting on the stairs leading up to it. But the surprise morphs into unease as she feels an intense wave of… sadness wash over her. No, he’s not just sad. It’s more. Deeper. More painful. Zev’sonya pauses in front of him, he doesn’t even notice her presence, and braces herself. “Leo?”

Starting a little, he looks up and when seeing her; he tries to smile. “Hey.” The boy is pale, there are dark smudges under his eyes and he looks miserable under his facade. “I, uh, I’m sorry, Zev. I know I hassled you for this date, but, uh… I don’t think I can go.”

Frowning, Zev’sonya crosses her arms. “What happened?”

Leo’s smile wavers. He swallows a couple of times before he can speak. “It’s, uh, it’s my dad, he…” Another swallow. “He died.”

That’s what she’s feeling from him. Grief. Zev’sonya exhales, forgetting about being angry and defensive and she merely moves to sit down next to him. “I’m… I’m sorry, Leo.”

He nods, turns to stare at the ground again. “We knew it was a long shot. They said it couldn’t be cured.” He carefully wipes at his left eye. “At least you won’t have to go out with me now.”

Zev’sonya plucks at the fabric on the knee of her pants. “I can wait.”

Leo shakes his head. “No.” He wipes at his other eye. “I, uh… It’s better if we don’t. There’s no point.” He clears his throat. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious. I got it from working the mines with him.”

Startled, Zev’sonya looks over at Leo. “You’re sick too?”

Now Leo nods.

Fear and horrible resignation, both seep from him and into her. He will die choking and gasping for air, thrashing, terrified, like his father.

Zev’sonya reaches out and places her hand on his neck, and after a second of surprised hesitation; Leo shudders once before he breaks into helpless tears. She eases him over and wraps her arms around him, her eyes narrowing with determination.

He’s not going to die.

-

Davarax is biting his lip as he watches Nemi wobble along the table with a firm grip on it with her tiny hands and a look of thoughtful concentration on her adorable face. He is so proud, watching her progress, that he could die. His heart is not designed to handle this kind of emotion. He’s too happy.

“I need to talk to you.” Zev’sonya stalks into the room.

Nemi blinks, lets go and drops down on her behind to stare wide-eyed at the twi’lek.

Davarax stares at Zev too. She wants to talk to him? Why? Is she going to try to kill him again? She hasn’t done that in a long time. He thought they were making progress when she smiled at him after Mose moved in. What has changed? Why is she angry with him now? “Uh… Okay?”

After she’s done explaining, Davarax almost wishes she had tried to kill him instead. It would have been easier to handle than failing her meek request and having to watch her have her heart broken when the boy dies. “I… I’ll ask around.”

Zev’sonya brightens with hope and that terrifies Davarax.

“Zev.” He stops her from leaving. “I can’t promise anything, okay? I will try, but it sounds like they’ve been looking pretty hard for a cure already.”

Her dark eyes flicker before she focuses on Davarax again and she shrugs. “You got a good track record of saving kids. If anyone can save him, it’s you.”

Davarax stands there, staring, long after she’s gone.

-

At first Dulsissia is heartbroken when she learns that Leo is sick. That sweet, cheerful boy seemed like someone who would live forever. Hearing that he’d watched his own father die in such a terrible way makes her hug him for so long he gets a little worried.

Davarax sends out a message to every contact he’s ever made in his years as a bounty hunter and mercenary, but one by one they come back negative.

It’s ironic that the one sliver of hope they get is from one direction they did not expect.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.” Dee says. “They call it Miner’s Lung.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Davarax asks, trying not to get his own hopes up.

Drop makes a face. “Depends on how advanced it is. Once it catches proper hold, when it gets in the blood, it’s basically impossible to weed it out.”

“Tell us where to go.” Dulsissia says. “We have to try.”

On board the Razor Crest, Dulsissia doesn’t know what makes her smile the most; Zev’sonya’s expression of utter disgust but not doing anything to stop Leo from holding her hand, or how at the very back of the ship; Din tries to hide how sneakily he reaches out for Corin’s hand.

The doctor refuses to see them until he hears ‘Motti’. Dulsissia has absolutely no qualms about using her name to wring the arm of this horrible man to help Leo. No baby will be dying as long as there is something Dulsissia can do about it.

A complete medical scan, some tests run and a lot of frowning later, the doctor hands them a datapad with a treatment schedule that will last for about eighteen standard months and drugs that would knock out a fully grown Sarlacc. “This should work, but I can give no guarantees. It’s not like that boy has grown up on the most nutritious diet. His immune system is as poor as his family clearly was.”

Dulsissia takes the datapad, hands it over to Davarax, so she can step close to the doctor. “If it fails, then I know who to hunt down. You should know, sir, we Mandalorians are very protective of our children. We take the loss of one very hard and will take our anger out on whomever is responsible for their death.”

The doctor goes pale. “If he’s not showing any signs of improvement in two months, you better come back so we can make some adjustments to his medication.”

Dulsissia gives him a sweet smile. “Lovely. Thank you.”

Davarax looks at her like he wants to propose all over again.

When they walk back to the Razor Crest, Dulsissia is eager to hold her daughter again but also can’t help but to adore the sight of the group of teenagers ambling in front of her and Davarax. It feels like only yesterday they were mere youngsters and now they are snapping at the heels of adulthood.

Corin has his arm around Leo’s neck, laughing and tugging him into a mix of a hug and a headlock, while Din and Zev’sonya walk behind them and give identical shake of heads at the boisterous duo.

Paz is standing by the ramp to the Razor Crest, his back towards them, and Dulsissia wonders what he’s doing until she sees the hands sliding up to cup the back of his neck and she knows.

“For the love of…” Davarax mutters. “They will get brain damage from lack of oxygen soon.”

Dulsissia giggles.

“Hey.” Davarax snaps, making Paz and Raga flinch apart. “Don’t make me hose you two with cold water.”

Raga rolls her eyes. Paz clears his throat and glances over at Leo. “How did it go?”

“We got a plan and hopefully a cure.” Davarax replies.

“Nice.” Raga replies, punching Leo in the arm and laughs at his yelp. “The clan keeps growing.”

“Let’s go home.” Dulsissia says, entering the ship and heading over to where Mose is curled up with the sleeping Nemi in his arms. She has to smile at that sight as well. It’s just too cute.

The little girl has everyone wrapped up around her little finger, but Mose maybe most of all. Who would have thought a Hutt could be such a softie?

“Everything okay?” Dulsissia asks, running a gentle hand over Nemi’s hair.

“She’s good.” Mose confirms in an affectionate tone. “Fell asleep ten minutes ago.”

The ride home is blissfully incident-free, which is why it is no big surprise the shock comes the day after they return home.

-

Dulsissia opens the door and blinks at the sight that meets her.

Dez Vizla is standing there.

“I, uh…” Dulsissia is suddenly awkwardly aware of standing there in Mandalorian armor, helmet off, and looking like the fraud she is. Luckily Davarax appears in the hallway, carrying their daughter, and he walks over to hover behind her.

“Dez. What are you doing here?”

Dez’ t-visor shifts up from the little girl on Davarax’ arm to his face. “You had a child?”

“Yes.” Dulsissia replies cautiously, placing a protective hand on the curious Nemi’s back.

“Mom! Dad!” Corin shouts, stepping into the hallway with Din and Leo in tow. “We’re heading over to Dee, Drop and Pat. We’ll be back for dinner.”

“Fine.” Davarax shouts back.

Dez watches the three and tilts his head a little, a bit puzzled. “More Foundlings, I see.”

Then Zev’sonya steps into the hallway to head into the kitchen and Dez says; “A Twi’lek?”

“Well…” Davarax manages to say, before Dez flinches and places his hand on his blaster, and Dulsissia deducts that Mose has appeared behind them. “It kind of just happened.”

Dulsissia keeps a wary eye on Dez’ hand on that blaster. “Please don’t draw that blaster. Mose is a part of the family.” She knows she has absolutely no chance of overpowering Dez Vizla, but she will not let him just threaten her family.

Dez rumbles before he reluctantly takes his hand off his weapon. He seems a little overwhelmed. “I just… I want to see my son.”

Davarax nods then points.

Dez turns his helmet and looks.

Walking towards them, oblivious to the visitor, Paz and Raga are entirely lost in each other. Paz has his arm around her shoulders, she has her arm around his waist, and instead of looking where they’re going, they are staring at each other, making grinning comments and exchanging kisses.

Dulsissia hears Dez exhale and in that moment, she realizes that while the man might be cold (He hasn’t seen Paz for years and he hasn’t sent a word, not since they left) and that he can be cruel at times, he’s not entirely without a heart. At least not when it comes to his son.

Seconds after that, Paz and Raga both discover Dez’ presence and they come to a sudden halt not too far away. Both of them look extremely worried at the sight of Paz’ father.

“Paz.” Dez greets his son.

Paz gingerly removes his arm from around Raga, but she follows when he walks over to his father. “Father. What… What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my son.” Dez replies, reaching out to grab Paz’ shoulders, looking him up and down before snorting a laugh. “And what a sight!”

Paz manages a faint smile. He’s taller than his father now and working on becoming as muscular as him.

Seeing the unease in the boy’s eyes makes Dulsissia frown and she looks up at Davarax, but he simply looks every bit as nervous as Paz. Clearly the awe-inspired fear that everyone in the Covert had towards Dez and most Vizlas didn’t just apply below ground.

“And little Raga Saxon.” Dez drawls, turning his attention to the one next to his son. “Not so little anymore. Quite the warrior. Your mama said you were doing well. I’m pleased to see she’s right.”

Raga dares a careful smile and nods.

“Vizlas and Saxons, it would be a powerful clan union.” Dez points out, now sounding smug.

Paz clears his throat. “We… we took our helmets off, father. I don’t think they care what two outcasts are doing.”

“Don’t underestimate the influence your father has.” Dez gives Paz a couple of semi-harsh pets to the cheek. “As far as they know, you removing your helmet is just a rumour.”

Paz frowns, looks down. “I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t take it off. I’m not a liar.”

Dez lowers his hand and his t-visor stares at his son in silence for several long seconds. “I see…”

An awkward tension follows and eventually Dulsissia steps forward, trying to put on her pleasant face that she used whenever rival families had to meet during the social events on Seswenna. “Let’s all go inside, shall we?”

Luckily her trick works.

Paz’ reply seems to have knocked Dez off balance a bit and he spends the next couple of hours talking to Davarax, just glancing over at his son as if he doesn’t quite know how to approach him again. “I have to admit,” Dez says, having turned ignoring Dulsissia into an art form, “I did not expect to find you like this, Davarax. I didn’t think you’d last long without the Covert. Without her.”

“How is she?” Davarax asks, careful hope in his eyes for news about his sister.

Dez shrugs. “Like she always is.”

Davarax smiles a little and Dulsissia feels guilt wrapping around her heart. If not for her, Macero would not have sent the mercenary after Davarax, his helmet would have stayed on and he wouldn’t have had to leave the Covert. Davarax being here is her fault. She wonders if he regrets saving her that day when they’d met for the very first time.

No, he wouldn’t regret something like that. But maybe he regrets bringing them to the Covert? Maybe he regrets letting her into his room that night?

When it is time for dinner and the others return to the house,  Dez declares it is time for him to head back to the Covert. He says so with a final look over at his son, but Paz tenses up and stares at the floor, which leads to him merely offering Paz a formal goodbye and stalking out of house, ignoring the other children gawking at him.

Dulsissia walks over to Paz, touches his arm and gets his attention. “You okay?” He nods, but it’s not really convincing.

Din appears on Paz’ other side, shoves Raga away, and punches him in the shoulder. When that gets him an angry glare, Din speaks. “He’s a douche. This is your home now. Trust me, leaving will only make you realize that. We’re your family too.”

That actually makes Paz smile and to Dulsissia’s delight, he pulls Din into a hug. It’s so sweet. It’s adorable. It’s… She sighs when she sees Paz’ biceps starting to bulge and Din squawks angrily before he starts trying to battle his way to freedom before he’s squeezed flat.

“I’m hungry.” Barthor whines.

“Let’s go eat.” Dulsissia declares.

-

That night, Dulsissia struggles to find sleep. All of her babies are in bed, safely tucked in, her husband is drowsing next to her, all is well, and yet there is an unease in her chest. She turns to look at Davarax. “Dav.”

“Mmh?”

“Are you awake?”

Davarax opens one eye to look at her. “If I say no, will you go to sleep?”

Dulsissia grins.

Sighing, Davarax turns on his side, fluffs his pillow and settles to look at her. “What’s on your mind?”

She reaches out and fidgets with the collar of his shirt. “Do you regret it?”

That brings a confused frown to his face. “Regret what?”

“Bringing us to the Covert.” Dulsissia rests her hand to his chest. “You lost everything because of that one decision.”

“I didn’t lose anything.” Davarax counters, reaching out and tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I gained a family. You, the kids, that scary twi’lek, a genuine Hutt and even our three bothersome neighbours, I wouldn’t trade this for the Dark Saber.” He leans over and gives her a soft kiss. “Without you, I’m scared to think where I’d be today.”

Dulsissia’s eyes well up with emotional tears as usual. “My life was horrible before I met you, I know it would be horrible today without you.”

“No regrets?” Davarax asks with a faint smile.

“No regrets.” Dulsissia confirms, burrowing close to him and savours the sensation of his arms going around her.

“Dav?”

“Yes, Dulcy?”

“Will you help me take the Creed?”

“Yes, cyare. It would be my honour.”

The unease in her chest is suddenly nowhere to be found and holding on to each other, they both slip into a peaceful sleep.

-

The End...?

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

mirrorball

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word count: 2110

[a/n: thanks for being patient with me! hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! if i forgot to tag you please inbox me]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Year: Summer 2014

Steve flopped down onto his bed, tired after today's events. Elizabeth softly laid down next to him, Steve wrapped his arm around her bringing her closer to his chest.

"Today was a day," he tiredly says.

"You okay?" She asked him.

After Bucky had left there was a sadness aura that followed Steve for the rest of the party. He had no clue what he had expected Bucky's reaction to be, but definitely not the one he got. He had even prepared himself fo a fight, he was grateful that didn't happen. He just wasn't expecting for Bucky to shut down and leave. Not even accepting his offer of having a conversation later.

He knew that Bucky just needed his space, time to think it all over. But the look on Bucky's face had Steve questioning whether or not he would ever come around.

It threw Steve off when Bucky requested that he breakup with Elizabeth. He couldn't believe his best friend would want his own happiness to suffer.

His whole life he had done everything possible to keep Bucky happy. After what Bucky and his family had to go through with his father, Steve made it his mission to never let his friend feel that way again. Granted he was only 7 when he made that promise to himself, he still kept it.

Steve had never put himself first, at least not until he had made the decision to go to school in California. He had even thought about changing his plans after his breakup with Elizabeth but he knew his parents would've been disappointed with that decision.

He had put Bucky first his entire life, what he's doing isn't selfish. Yet he can't help but feel like the most selfish person ever.

What if he was keeping Elizabeth from truly being happy? What if she just didn't want to break his heart? What if she just didn't want to break his heart during a family event? What if come tomorrow she would tell him the truth, that she was really still in love with Bucky.

He's not sure he could handle that heartbreak.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" Elizabeth asked, breaking Steve from his self destructive thoughts.

"I won't be mad if you still love him," Steve says, "I'd understand."

Elizabeth quickly sat up to get a look of Steve's face to make sure he was being serious. It nearly broke her to see how defeated he looked. She's never seen him so down, not even after his breakup with Peggy.

"You don't have to pretend to save my feelings," he continues, "If it meant you were happy, that's all I care about. If being with Bucky makes you happy, then please don't let me stand in the way."

"Oh Steve," she gently caresses his face, staring down at him, "I wasn't lying earlier when I told Bucky that I didn't love him anymore. And i most definitely wasn't lying when I said that I love you, because I do love you, with my whole heart. You make me happy. The happiest I've ever been. Bucky was my past. You are my now, and hopefully my future.

"If you can't see how truly great you are, then I must not be doing my job as not only your girlfriend, but you're friend," she says, "Because you make me feel special every single day. And I just want you to feel the way you've made me feel."

"It's not your fault," Steve softly says, grasping her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"Growing up I've always been second to Bucky," he explains, "Everyone seemed to prefer him over me. Whether it was girls or just our friends. It was always Bucky then Steve."

Elizabeth takes a moment to think back on their time growing up. She couldn't help but feel guilty when she realized that everything Steve is saying is true.

After she and Bucky got together, Steve sort of became an after thought, not because they purposefully excluded him, it never crossed their mind simply because Steve also had Peggy at the time. But after Peggy left, Elizabeth never really got to talk to Steve about how he felt, because she got caught up in her own drama.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I should've known then about how you felt. I was so caught up in my own shit, I never realized that you could've been going through your own stuff."

"Liz, it was never your fault," he says, "You were going through your own stuff. And I had learned to suppress it. Plus Bucky was your boyfriend at the time, of course i wasn't really on your mind. Plus it's kind of my fault for allowing it to happen. I never spoke up about it. I just always went along, figuring it was better than nothing."

"Once I got to Berkeley that's when everything changed," his mood shifts a bit to a much lighter feel, "I no longer felt like the shadow of a person. I felt like my own person for the first time ever. I was able to become someone I never thought possible. I am no longer 'scrawny Steve, Bucky's best friend'. I just became 'Steve' or 'Rogers'."

Elizabeth smiled at the way Steve's eyes lit up when talking.

"I had never imagined myself leaving New York, let alone making the permanent move to California," he confesses, "As much as I love it here, California is where I feel I belong. I know you feel it too."

Elizabeth nods her head agreeing with him. She felt the same way, as much as New York was her childhood home, California was where she felt her heart aching for. Where she felt like she belonged, where she could thrive. The more she spent time there, the more it felt like home, that's why moving there wasn't a tough decision for her.

"Coming back here," Steve says, causing Elizabeth to shift back her focus on him, "It just makes me feel like that scrawny kid all over again. I feel like no matter how hard I try to shed that image, Brooklyn will never see me for who I am now, but for who I was then. Like no matter what I do I will always be 'little' Steve Rogers."

"I know you feel it too," he says looking up at her.

She did. She did feel stuck in the past whenever she came back home. It seemed like life stood still here, while outside of Brooklyn everything is moving ahead. She knows it's only because she grew up there, and had nothing to do with Brooklyn itself. Once she was in California, she got a taste of life outside of Brooklyn, and she's not sure if she would want to go back. So moving there was an easier choice for her to make.

"I do," she agrees, "It's why moving to California was an easy decision for me to make."

"I wasn't even sure I was even going to make it to California," he says.

"Why is that?"

"Felt like I was disappointing my parents," he confesses, "We had always discussed me going to Columbia as a pre-med major. That had been the original plan. It wasn't like they were forcing it on me. More like I was forcing it onto myself.

"It was the 'safer' choice, granted the longer one, but in the end it all would've been worth it. For some reason as a child I believed that was the only way my parents would've been proud of me. Regardless of the fact that they were already proud and would tell me constantly. I just put that pressure on myself."

"It wasn't until junior year that Mr. Lawson, my high school art teacher said I should apply to some art schools," he continues, "Then after I had a long discussion with the guidance counselor she agreed as well, saying I would get in no problem with whatever art field I applied in.

"I never really gave my drawing much thought. It was just something I would do. Also a career in art is not exactly financially stable, or at all stable. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to apply to a couple of schools as an architecture major. Never really gave it a second thought."

Steve pauses, "I did get into Columbia."

"Steve, no fucking way," Elizabeth gasp sitting up straighter, "I never even heard."

"That's because I only told my parents," he says, "I got the acceptance email the same day I got NYU's and Berkeley's, where I hadn't applied as pre-med, which my parents didn't know of at the time."

"Wow," Elizabeth responds feeling herself become speechless. She had only known about NYU and Berkeley. She knew about NYU because that was the plan, they, including Bucky had discussed Freshman year. Back when she was still with Bucky, and Steve with Peggy and they all had planned to stay in New York. Before life got complicated.

"When I did get the Berkeley acceptance I had to come clean to my parents about what major I applied under. I was nervous, because a part of me never told them because I was worried I wouldn't get in. So seeing that acceptance it was the assurance I needed. One that really let me know that I could actually do it. And of course my parents were proud."

"Of course," Elizabeth smiles, "They would've been proud if you had decided to not even go to school and just worked in a restaurant."

"That's true," Steve lets out a small laugh, "And I think I more so didn't want to regret the decision. Leaving home to move across the country for a career that could be unstable. It's scary."

"Do you?" Elizabeth asks.

"Do I what?"

"Do you regret it?"

"Not one bit," he smiles, pulling her back down onto his chest.

They laid there in a comfortable silence. Steve ranking his fingers on Elizabeth's arm, feeling himself grow tired.

"I hope you know you're amazing," Elizabeth quietly says looking up at him with pure admiration in her eyes, "That I think you're amazing. I think you're one of the greatest people I have ever known. And if I have to spend my entire life showing you just how amazing I think you are, I will."

Age: 29

Year: 2023

Location: Santa Barbara, CA

Elizabeth giggled as Steve carried her over the threshold into their hotel room for the weekend. He kicked the door closed as he silenced her giggles with a kiss, before placing her on her feet.

"Why thank-you Mr. Rogers."

"You're very welcome Mrs. Rogers," he smiled brightly at his new wife.

Her makeup was slowly fading, hair no longer perfectly done after a night of dancing with their close loved ones. Steve just stares at her lovingly. He ahs never seen her more beautiful and the fact that he gets to be her husband for the rest of his life, he's never felt luckier.

Elizabeth feels his eyes just on her, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, just admiring my beautiful wife," he compliments, causing Elizabeth to blush.

"How about one more dance?" she asks.

"There's no music."

"When I'm with you there's always music," she says holding her hand out for him.

Steve pulled her to him, one hand grasped in her's, while the other lay on her lower back. Elizabeth's head rested on his chest, with Steve's chin softly resting on the top of it.

"You know I think you're amazing," Elizabeth says as they sway softly in each other's arms.

"You might've told me once or twice," he responds.

"Get used to it because I'm going to be telling you that for the rest of our lives."

"Nothing I want more than that," he kisses the top of her head.

"If you'd asked me to runaway with you to join a circus, I would in a heartbeat," she says.

"Oh really? If I lose my job, and having nothing to show for, you'd still be there?"

"Right next to you baby, every step of the way," she says looking up at him, "Plus you won't have nothing to show. You'll have me. You'll have us. With me by your side I'll make sure you never not know how much you mean to me."

"You've made me believe in love again when I thought it wasn't possible. You've made me love myself in a way that I didn't think were possible. You make me a better human being by just being you. I love you Steve, more than anything.

"So if everything were to go to shit, as long as I have you that's all I need. I'll be there reminding you every single day just how special you are to me."

"I love you," Steve smiles as tears fall from his eyes.

[ninak803]

Elitist Nightmares

Aaand I finished a new chapter! Yeeei!

@whataboutmyfries thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️❤️

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Psssst @sunflowerfox87 a new chapter!

Please read tags for CW!!

Chapter 7

Remus

The last days went by in a blur. Remus and Leo organized everything that needed to be organized, like a needle to draw blood and bleach to clean up the mess he was going to make.

Now they were both sitting in the car and Remus went through the plan step by step, so he won't forget anything.

“Okay, so I'll be waiting here for you.” Leo said, watching Remus carefully.

He felt Remus' tension; he was good at reading people, Remus had to admit. Working with him wasn't bad after all.

“Yeah. If I'm not back in two hours, something's gone wrong; get the hell out of here and contact O'Hara and Tremblay, they know what to do. Okay?”

Leo nodded.

“Good luck.” he said as Remus left the car.

For the third time, he sneaked through the Black’s mansion, that was two times more than he initially had intended, it had never happened to him before, but plans changed. Obviously.

When he opened Sirius' bedroom door, he was sitting on his bed, awake this time. He looked at Remus, whose heart beat faster out of nervousness. He closed the door behind him quietly and walked over to the other man.

“I thought you might have forgotten me.” Sirius said, his voice a bit teasing.

Remus rolled his eyes. This guy really was something, talking to his assassin like that.

“No, I did not.” Remus said and placed the things he had brought with him on the bed.

Sirius moved closer to get a better look.

“What's that for?” he asked and pointed at the blood drawing kit.

Remus raised his eyebrows.

“How did you think, I would get your blood without actually hurting you?”

Sirius looked at him with horror, his eyes wide.

“I… I didn’t think about it.” his voice was just a whisper.

Remus grinned at him a bit.

“You're afraid of needles.” he stated.

The other one shook his head.

“No, of course not. I just… don't like them, with their pointy ends and all.”

Now Remus had to laugh, Sirius was cute when he was like that.

“Don't worry, I know what I'm doing, I've done this before.”

And this wasn't exactly a lie, he had trained on how to draw blood with Leo for the last couple of days. The poor boy's arm was covered with bruises from it.

“Why do you know how to do this?”

Remus just shrugged vaguely and held out his arm.

“Give me your arm, please.”

He placed the tourniquet around Sirius' arm, took a pad, then disinfected his arm.

Sirius stared at him, following every move he made with watchful eyes.

“Okay… Please lean back and look at the ceiling.” Remus instructed.

He waited until Sirius did as he was told, then took the needle in his hand and looked at his arm to find the vein.

Sirius' breaths were rather fast and Remus looked at him.

“Tell me something. Something I don't know. Something good.”

Sirius looked into his eyes for a moment, then back at the ceiling when he started talking.

“Uhm… When we were still kids, Regulus and I had this place down the road. There is a small forest, I don't know if you know. It's really not large, but it's very nice and not many people go there. Well, it was pretty empty, I don't know what it's like now. I haven't been there in years… So we would go there when our parents were… When they were shit again. We would just run away and hide for a while, pretend that everything we see is ours. We built small hideouts with the branches and moss, had fights with sticks which we pretended were swords and we were some sort of knights…” he smiled at the thought.

“And everything was well for a moment.”

Sirius looked at Remus, then at his arm in surprise. He hadn't noticed the needle at all.

Remus smiled at him genuinely.

“That sounds like a good memory.” he agreed.

They were silent for a moment, Remus watching Sirius and Sirius watching his blood and Remus, smiling shyly at him.

“Please tell me when you start feeling dizzy.” he told Sirius, who nodded.

Sirius closed his eyes. His breathing was even, just a bit too fast, maybe.

“You wanna tell me something else?” Remus asked him.

A smile appeared on Sirius' face, his eyes still closed. Remus liked this smile. It was an honest one, a happy one.

“Hm, let me think for a moment.”

He bit his lip in concentration.

“Oh, okay, I have one. We have this lake in our garden, you probably know that, and in winter when it was frozen, Regulus and I went out there to skate. It was in the middle of the night, so our parents wouldn’t notice us. It was so freaking cold. Afterwards we made hot chocolate to get warm again.”

Sirius sighed.

“I miss those days… When he was still just my little brother and not my parents' meeple. Also, I’m feeling dizzy now.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, give me a moment.” Remus said.

He fumbled with the needle and pulled it away, then placed a band aid on Sirius' arm.

Remus reached for his bag, took some chocolate out and handed it to him.

“Eat. You'll feel better.”

He waited for a while and watched Sirius eat, then Remus got up and walked into the middle of the room. He spun around several times to look at the room to find the right spot for the crime scene, then he went to the wall where he first encountered him.

This would do.

He turned around to Sirius, who was watching him, Remus swallowed.

“Can you come over here for a second?”

Sirius walked to him and Remus pushed him against the wall, gently this time. He took his knife out and held it to his throat, without any pressure though, he didn't want to hurt him.

“This feels familiar.” Sirius said with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, I need to see how tall you are to prepare…” Remus trailed off.

“Do whatever you have to do.” Sirius shrugged.

After a moment, he let go of him again and started to prepare the fake crime scene. This took him a good while, Sirius watched him from his bed again. When he was pleased with the mess he made, he started scrubbing everything with the bleach he'd brought.

Sirius was standing next to him when he was done.

“You've missed a spot here.”

Remus nodded.

“I know, I did that on purpose. So they see you didn't just run away.”

Sirius looked at him.

“Smart.”

Remus grinned.

“Thanks.”

He cleaned himself up afterwards, then went back to Sirius, who looked sad.

“Come on. We have to go now. Leave your phone here.”

And they left the Black mansion together.

Sirius

They went to a white car, a blonde guy sitting in it. Remus opened the door for him and he got inside.

“Uh… Hi.” Sirius said to the blonde.

“Hi. Im Leo. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too, I guess?”

They drove through the whole town, then parked in front of a small, rundown building.

“Welcome to your new home for the next couple of weeks.” Amber Eyes announced.

Sirius looked at it sceptically, but followed them up to the flat.

Inside it was slightly better. It wasn't the best flat he had ever seen, but at least it was clean.

So this was where he would stay now… Well, it could be worse, right? He could still be with his parents.

Remus looked at him, watching every step he made, so Sirius smiled at him.

“It's yours? Looks… nice.”

Remus laughed, he had detected the lie.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the bedroom is. You need some sleep.”

Sirius followed him into the bedroom. It was small; the bed fitted in there just so, a small wardrobe next to it.

“Take anything you need out of my wardrobe. My clothes might be too large for you, but it'll do for now. I'm in the living room, if you need anything. The bathroom is right next to the bedroom.”

Sirius nodded and Remus left him alone.

He sat down on the bed, moving his fingers over the blanket, then laid down fully clothed.

How was he supposed to sleep now? He had just faked his death and was now lying in the bed of a stranger, of someone who actually wanted to kill him, and he should just trust him now? No way.

His thoughts wandered to his brother and the fight they had only a couple of hours ago. He wished he could talk to him now, tell him he was sorry, tell him what was going to happen. When Regulus finds him gone, he would assume that he needed a day away from their family, like he did sometimes. But when he wouldn't come back in the afternoon, Regulus would know something was wrong. He will check his bedroom, find his phone and maybe the small blood spot, which Remus had left on the floor. The thought alone made Sirius heart hurt for his brother. Why did he have to do this to him?

He didn't care about his parents or their feelings, but he did care about his brother. Regulus was going to feel so damn awful.

Sirius swallowed hard and wiped away the tears. He would see his brother again. He knew it, but he was still sorry.

He closed his eyes, the touch of the soft blanket soothing him a little. He noticed a smell. He recognized it as Remus'; he remembered it clearly from the first day they had met. It shouldn't surprise him, it was his bedroom after all.

He snuggled deeper into the blanket and fell asleep despite everything.

---

Sirius startled awake. He was sweaty and his heart beat fast, because of the nightmare he just had. He swallowed, sat up and looked around. At first he didn't recognize the room he was in, but after a moment the events of the day sank in and he slowly calmed down again.

His parents weren't even close.

With an almost normal heartbeat, he got up and walked into the kitchen to get some water. A movement on the couch made Sirius stop. Remus was sleeping there, the blanket was thrown carelessly to the floor; he was sweating and his face looked painful, afraid.

So Sirius wasn't the only one with nightmares.

He walked over to the couch and sat down next to Remus, touching him gently on the shoulder to wake him up, and Remus shot upright immediately, his hands closing around Sirius neck.

Sirius held his hands up in defense, to show him he was unarmed and after a moment Remus let go of him, his eyes still scared.

“Fuck. Do you want to get yourself killed? Do not wake me up. Damn it.” he said, his voice hoarse.

Remus moved a hand through his hair, and Sirius watched him.

“You had a nightmare.” he said.

Remus shook his head.

“No, I didn't.”

“I get them too. I just had one.” he said silently.

Remus took a deep breath, then looked at Sirius with soft eyes and a small smile.

“You wanna talk about it?”

But Sirius shook his head.

“Neither do I.” Remus said, then got up from the couch.

“I don't think I can fall asleep now. You almost scared me to death.” he said.

Sirius had to laugh.

“Thanks for waking me up though…” Remus said, barely audible, then he cleared his throat and continued:

“I get myself some tea. Do you want one too? We could watch a movie or something… I mean, if you don't want to sleep again. If not, I promise you won't hear me, I won't wake you up.”

Sirius got up too.

“Tea and a movie sounds good, actually. I don't want to sleep at the moment, so… Some company would be nice, I guess? If you don't mind me…”

“Yeah, no, I don't mind.”

They stood next to each other awkwardly for a moment, then Remus left and went into the kitchen to make them some tea.

Finn

Logan was standing in the kitchen, talking on his phone apparently. Finn sat in the living room and could hear him talking to someone. He looked at Logan when the other boy came into sight again.

“I just got a call from Remus. He did it, he eliminated Black.” he sounded awestruck.

“Oh, wow.”

Logan nodded.

“Yeah. You remember this boy he took with him when he paid us a visit?”

Now it was Finn's turn to nod.

Of course he remembered Leo, he thought about him every day to be honest.

“Well, he is going to work with us now.”

Finn sat up straighter.

Well, that was some good news, right? He had wanted to see him again the moment he walked through their door with Remus. But now he had to work with him and with Logan. One boy he was in love with for years now and another one he was falling for already. Those weren’t the best circumstances. How was he supposed to stay sane?

Finn felt Logan's eyes on him, so he looked at him and smiled.

“Sounds good to me. He still needs to learn, right? We can show him a thing or two.”

Logan nodded.

“Yeah, that's actually what Remus just said to me. Leo will be here tomorrow morning at 6:30.”

Okay, so Finn had another night to think on how to handle this whole situation, not that he had many options.

“The newspapers did not cover his death yet, did they?” he asked to change the subject.

“No, it's just been a couple of hours.”

Finn nodded.

“Okay, well… We should check on Regulus and see how the security arrangements for him have changed. I guess things will be more complicated for us now.”

He got up and walked over to where Logan was standing, looking at him.

“Ouais…” he said.

Something was occupying him, Finn could see it on his face, his posture.

“Are you okay, Tremz?”

Logan looked him straight in the eye, Finn's breath hitched a second, but then Logan smiled at him and moved away.

“Yeah. Im okay. I'm just excited, I think. Everything is going to change now, isn't it?”

Finn nodded.

“That's why we're doing this. Come on, then.” he placed his hand on Logan's shoulder shortly as they left their apartment.

Finn knew Logan hadn’t told him the truth, but he also knew Logan; if he cornered him now, he would just shut down completely, so Finn let it go.

---

The next morning Finn was running up and down in his room, waiting for the doorbell to finally ring. He checked his watch for the hundredth time. 6:25 am.

He sighed and sat down on his bed. He didn't even know why he was so nervous. Well, no, he knew, but it still was stupid and annoying.

A moment later the bell finally rang, and Finn jumped up. He almost ran to the door and crashed into Logan, who already had his hand on the handle.

“Woah, slow down Harzy.” he said and opened the door.

And there he stood: Leo, tall, blonde, with friendly blue eyes and a dimpled smile on his face.

Finn's heart melted on the spot.

[steverogersbingo]

✨ STEVE ROGER BINGO’S ROUND UP - POST 1 ✨

Check out the fills our participants posted from the first month under the cut!

🎨 ART

heaven isn't in the sky (it's underwater) by agron T // Steve/Tony // Mermaids Summary: when steve went underwater he was discovered by three mermaid tony stark instead

Untitled by ABrighterDarkness G // Steve/Bucky // Alpine Summary: Steve and Bucky get distracted, Alpine enjoys every minute.

Space Stone by AriaFandom G // Gen // Moodboard Summary: Galaxy aesthetic for the space stone

Untitled by sanguineterrain G // Gen Summary: Magical, canon-divergent Steve

Untitled by call-me-kayyyyy G // Steve/Bucky // AU; Fantasy; Loin-cloths Summary: Steve and Bucky are elf's who ride their unicorns to check the perimeter.

Steve Rogers becomes Cernunnos by pinkybitesu T // Gen // AU Summary: Steve had always felt connected to the Earth. Becoming the God of the Forest, Cernunnos, made it all make sense.

"That Is America's Ass." by bleedxblack T // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve Rogers straddles Bucky's waist with booty shorts that read "it ain't gonna spank himself".

📝 FIC

Clean Up These Bloody Fists by dontcallmebree E // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky // Shrunkyclunks; Mob AU Summary: Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s unendingly generous with his care for those around him, or if Bucky’s simply been lucky enough to scale the wall built up over decades, and had somehow proven himself worthy of the affection. Either way, he knows he’ll never take this for granted. Spend some time with Steve and Bucky this week in the perpetually fluffy ‘verse of Do The Things You Never Showed Nobody.

Scars by Kimberly T // 1,888 // Steve/Bucky // Post-CATWS Summary: The serum means that Steve can't scar anymore, though he's retained his pre-existing scarring. While in the hospital recovering from the fight on the helicarrier, Steve does a little introspection about this. It's bittersweet.

Without Regret by ABrighterDarkness E // 5,284 // Steve/Thor Summary: It had been a very long time since Steve had last felt like this. There was a buzz in his mind and tingling through his body. His movements were just slightly slower, clumsier and his were words spoken a little more loosely with a tongue that felt more weighty than it ought to. Even that, though, felt different than the last time that he’d had the opportunity to overindulge with a friend.

Love and Learning by ABrighterDarkness T // 7,746 // Steve/Natasha Summary: It reminded him, a little bit, of stepping into a machine seeing everything in varying shades of grey. Only to stumble out again into a world of color more vibrant than anything he could have possibly imagined. Overwhelming but entirely breathtaking and welcome.

Good by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,062 // Steve/Bucky/Tony Summary: Steve returns to the compound and finds that the two men he loves, but never told his feelings to, are a couple now.

Lie to Me by Kit T // 2,102 // Steve/Bucky // Body Swap Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Steve and Natasha end up trapped in the others body. Instead of telling everybody, they make a bet. Who will be able to conceal their identity the longest?

Dream a Little Dream of Me by buckybleeds E // 5,719 // Steve/Bucky // Dub-con; Self-cest Summary: Steve goes back in time to comfort himself after Bucky fell and ends up having sex with himself. 

Pride by Kit T // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Tony wants to take Steve to pride to watch him freak out. Natasha tags along to do damage control.

Take Care of You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,756 // Steve/Bucky // Daddy Kink; Age Difference; AU Summary: Steve has been so busy with his work as a commander at shield lately, that he has barely had time for his partner Bucky. Bucky’s worried his Daddy might not want him anymore and Steve has to rectify this by showing how much he loves his baby.

Love Has Left a Printed Trace by Girl_Back_There E // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky // Vampires; Dub-con Summary: Steve is obsessed with finding a mysterious figure named Winter in paintings throughout the years. James is a Vampire named Winter charged with keeping Vampires a secret from humanity.

with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers by avintagekiss24 E // 4,420 // Steve/Reader // AU Summary: You and Steve share a morning in bed.

Always You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,691 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: After a year of traveling, Steve finally comes home and confesses his feelings to Bucky.

Stop the World by Rex E // 6,828 // Steve/Scott // AU Summary: When Steve got hired to entertain at Cassie Lang's thirteenth birthday party, he had thought it was going to be like every other kid's party he'd booked. He'd show up, play Captain America, get paid, and go home. He never quite gets to that last step, but to be fair, there was no way he could have anticipated the draw of Scott Lang.

Always by Rex G // 437 // Steve/Matt Murdock // Canon Divergence Summary: Even the Devil of Hell's Kitchen needs an angel from time to time. This one just happens to be from Brooklyn.

Glass by Rex M // 859 // Gen // Non-graphic torture; Implied non-con; Referenced suicide Summary: "We'll lose." "Then we'll do that together, too." Sokovia crashed, Ultron won, and he always had hated Tony the most.

We are already home by Bitters E // 4,948 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve carries an injured Bucky through a portal into…somewhere else? But they’re together, like they always have been, and that’s all that matters.

end of the line, time to go home. by moonythejedi394 M // 3,484 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Daddy Kink; Age Play/Regression Summary: Steve and Bucky always said they were together 'til the end of the line. But even they have to get off the train eventually. Everybody always figures, at the end of the line is... Y'know. The End. But actually, at the end of the line is happily ever after. It just took them a few decades and a couple suitcases of trauma to get there.

Not Technically A Bromance by dontcallmebree M // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky Summary: “A bromance?” Bruce asks, voice tinged with restrained laughter. “Yeah, we have one of those.” Steve glowers at Bruce, who’s patently laughing at him, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth. Bruce composes himself, biting at his bottom lip. “And you’ve had sex how many times?” (Inspired by that tweet, you know the one.)

At the Top of My Lungs by ralsbecket T // 1,646 // Steve/Tony Summary: Two months had passed since Tony had lost his life; since they had laid him to rest six feet under. It was two months of trying to keep his world from further falling apart, and it wasn’t really working in his favor. So, no. No, he wasn’t okay.

Thor’s Art Class for the Heroes of Midgard by WinterSabbath T // 6,338 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: In which Thor makes it his mission to help mend the broken, cold relationship between Steven and James through the only way he can think of: Art class. As a bonus, he also helps the team loosen up.

So Let It Happen by Bitters E // 2,287 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve comes home from a tough mission and needs to get out of his head. His husband and retired Avenger is only too happy to help him with this.

Made of Glass (The Way You See Through Me) by ralsbecket T // 1,132 // Steve/Tony // AU Summary: Steve wasn’t sure what came over him when the model walked out from the back room, wearing a robe; from the moment his eyes landed on his face, he was just… awestruck. Dark hair, bright eyes, full lips. He was fucking beautiful. Or, the one where Tony is the model in Steve's life-drawing class.

for your cooperation by xceru E // 3,145 // Steve/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: Hydra kidnaps Natasha on a routine mission in Cairo. When Steve finds her, Natasha decides that it's his turn to play prisoner.

my heart in the still winter air by xceru E // 11,887 // Steve/Bucky/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: “He will,” Steve says, and suddenly Natasha understands. This is the man that Steve altered his heart for, the one he thought only the serum could love. But now Steve knows better—he knows he’s bisexual—he knows his love is real, and the man that it belongs to is undead.

Won't Let Go by afalsebravado E // 2,358 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve is on the hunt for the Winter Sold-- Bucky. He's on the hunt for Bucky when the leads dry up and he heads home to regroup. But a package from Tony Stark arrives on his doorstep and makes him re-evaluate old promises.

The Truth of Who I Am by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,203 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve Rogers is not a cis straight man and he is tired of people erasing that and other parts of his identity so he fits into the image they already had of him.

Bruise of a Rose by marvelousmoons G // 1,710 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: It’s moments like this that get under his skin the most. The way Steve can just… be Steve. Be dramatic and give Bucky the cold shoulder for simply caring. But Bucky was stronger. He could play Steve’s game. He wouldn’t cave, no. He would sit and wait for the silence to overwhelm Steve first.

... And all I got was this lousy t-shirt by RainbowNerds M // 3,126 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: A month ago, Steve had the best sex of his life with a guy he met in a bar, and went home with the most hideous shirt he'd ever seen but no phone number. Enter his new roommate, Becca. The two instances are not connected, right?

Love you too, jerk by WinterRaven G // 636 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Fanart included Summary: Steve makes breakfast for Bucky and their 'kids' help him wake up his husband.

[candychronicles]

everything // k. bakugou

CHARACTER PAIRING: ProHero!Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,574

WARNINGS: lots of angst, some implied nsfw

SYNOPSIS: it’s hard to fit in when you’re working at a legendary pro hero agency. despite being a part of something good, you felt like you were nothing. those feelings were taken advantage of, and it’s up to a certain pro hero to right those wrongs.

TAGS: @jojosmilktea​ @redbeanteax​

Want to be a part of my taglist? Message me!

Bakugou was… everything. he was bright, brighter than the sun, moon and stars. his temper often got in the way of people seeing how truly amazing he was, but as time went on, as he got older, that temper molded and changed. he was still that loud mouthed, sassy, rushing in head first guy, but he finally knew what it meant to be a real hero and with that realization, he blossomed into one of the top pros, something he was always meant to be.

you, on the other hand, were just a simple girl with a simple quirk. you helped save people, sure. you were a true hero in your own right, you had the same desire to protect and serve but it wasn’t the same. you weren’t part of the prestigious class A that swept the world by storm all those years ago. you weren’t starting your own hero agencies, taking on your own wonderful sidekicks, becoming one of the greats. 

you worked closely with Bakugou, or Ground Zero, as a hero in his agency with Deku. to even score a spot there should’ve been enough for you to understand how important you were in your own right, but seeing your friends move on and up away from you was something that still hurt deep in your chest. you weren’t jealous in any sense, you didn’t necessarily want to be popular, but you wanted to be recognized for your hard work. you wanted to feel like you belonged, which was hard at an agency that was so close knit to begin with.

things only got worse once they brought in a few new heros. things weren’t all that bad to begin with, but you noticed quickly how they started getting more intense missions over you, then small missions, then patrols. you were reduced to nothing more than a simple lackey, someone who was lower than interns at times. you did nothing except other peoples paperwork, becoming a glorified secretary. 

when you confronted the two men rather maturely, they shrugged it off. Deku assured you that you were doing a great job and they really valued your work at the agency after Ground Zero said they simply haven’t needed you out of the building yet. their flippancy should’ve made you mad, should’ve made you want to scream loudly at them and demand some respect, but you simply dipped your head in acknowledgement and turned around, head held high but mind fuzzy.

it didn’t take long after that before Dabi found you, seething with untapped anger and with that anger, power. he cooed in your ear about the League, of the bigger picture, of a world where everyone, no matter their quirk, could become powerful, could command respect. you hated it at first, pushed him away, insisted that you were a hero and if he didn’t stop visiting you that you would turn him in, but he laughed in your face every time.

he knew he had you hook, line and sinker when you stopped arguing, when you invited him into your apartment. you were everything a villain wasn’t and yet, you were everything they needed. someone who was known enough to the world, someone who had a good background, someone who was powerful and didn’t even know it all that much, someone who wasn’t innocent but someone who wanted to be good so bad that they could be led astray without even realizing it. 

you had stopped showing up to work. things moved along, albeit a bit more slowly as everyone now had to fill out their own paperwork, but there was this strange feeling in the agency, as people didn’t really know what to say or do with the situation. Bakugou tried to not let it get to him after seeing that you were safe and healthy for his own eyes, not that you would’ve known as he had snuck by your apartment one day; however, something just wasn’t settling well with him. why were you not coming to work anymore? what had changed? was it his fault?

he finally gained the sense to knock on your door harshly one day, barging in when you didn’t answer fast enough. what he saw was not what he was expecting. you looked… fine. completely healthy, glowing actually. a smile graced your face, you were fit and invigorated. you were bruised all over your arms?

“what happened?” he asked, the question loaded, biting on his tongue.

“nothing happened. i emailed my resignation already, i told Deku that i couldn’t step foot in that building again. i’m better off not being there, but thank you for checking on me,” your voice was strong and yet underneath, there was a twinge of fear, of uncertainty.

“what happened?” he asked again, ignoring what you said and instead stepping forward and roughly grabbing your arms.

you pulled them out of his grasp instantly, defiance in your eyes as you replied snarkily, “i don’t need to answer you. i’m not your employee anymore. you don’t need nor should you worry about me.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. without warning, he threw his arms up in the air and began pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, sounding much like his partner. 

“you think i’m here because you’re my employee? that i would go through all this trouble for someone who didn’t want to work for me anymore? are you really that daft?”

“i’m here because i care about you and i’m fucking worried. why the hell would you just leave? why would you not talk to anyone, tell anyone what was going on? what the fuck is going on anyways?”

“you don’t think i didn’t try talking to you?” you roared, marching up to him and pushing him hard towards the door. “i tried talking to you, asking why i wasn’t working anymore, why you would send new heros out on patrols and missions over me, why i became a fucking lackey at my own job? i didn’t sign up to be stepped on. if you want to know what’s going on, i’ll tell you. i’ve found a job, an organization that actually wants to use me, that actually cares about me and my abilities.”

“god, you sound like the fucking League, always spewing that bullshit that everyone is special and can be used for the greater good.”

you stayed silent, eyes blazing yet regret swirling behind the fire.

“you’re fucking kidding me, aren’t you? you’re seriously not thinking of joining the League, are you?”

when you continued to stay silent, he scoffed, almost walking out of the door, but turned around at the last minute, this time marching up to you and pushing you back until you were up against a wall, noses nearly touching.

“they will not lay a god damn finger on you, do you understand me? i will kill every one of those bastards before i will let you go to them.”

“why the fuck does it matter to you where i go? you’re not my boss anymore, remember? i don’t even think i can call you a friend,” you retorted.

“are you stupid or something? it’s because i fucking like you. i like you so god damn much that it burns a hole in my chest. i can’t stand hearing you even say these things. you want to know why we put you on desk duty? it’s because i couldn’t bear the thought of you ever getting hurt. Midoriya really, really did not want to bench you but i insisted, and he knew he couldn’t change my mind. and now you’re here talking about going to the League? joining the villains? becoming the bad guy, someone who i would have to eventually fight one day? i. won’t. let. that. happen,” he ranted, enunciating the last sentence so fiercely you were afraid his words would crack you in half.

your mind reeled with the information that Bakugou, the one man you had admired and yet hated so much, liked you. that he didn’t want you to get hurt so he pushed you to the sidelines, that he was here, standing in front of you, smelling of caramel and desire, regret and fear. you didn’t know what you were supposed to do, so you closed your eyes and let your body take over, leaning up to press your lips against his own, gentle at first and then more rough, not wanting to ever let this man in front of you go.

“i’ll stay,” you managed to say in between kisses, teeth gnashing together, drawing blood on your lower lip. “you can’t bench me. i need to be a hero. i need to be something.”

“you’re everything. you’re everything and more,” he stated matter of fact, pulling your head back to pepper kisses down your neck. 

he nudged your ass with one of his hands and barked “jump.” you complied without question. 

“let me show you how important you are. let me show you that you are more than just something, but everything. and when we’re done, those bruises on your arms aren’t going to be the only marks on your body. tomorrow, you’re back on patrol. you have a special connection with the League. you’re going to be important, more than anyone at the agency. together, we’re going to take those bastards down. but now, right now, i’m going to fuck you senseless.”