#there seems to be some green under the wood so hopefully sun and water will bring it back

[swankpalanquin]

hibiscus is looking rough, but I think still alive... hopefully will be able to document it coming back to life

[eddie-sweetheart]

🏕 Camp Lovers Lake - Chapter One 🏕

An Eddie Munson x Female Reader summer camp story. Set just before the beginning of season 3 of Stranger Things, with a few diversions from the original plot of the series.

🏕 Chapters List

Pairing and tropes • Eddie Munson x Female Reader - fluff, forced proximity, slightly slow burn, summer camp clichés ♥︎

Summary • June, 1985. Close to the city of Hawkins, Indiana, the placid waters of Lovers Lake stand as the perfect background for the homonymous summer camp, where you’re about to be a counselor for the last time before senior year and then, hopefully, college. Your brother Dustin Henderson won’t be with you this year, as he’s chosen to attend Camp Know Where until July - but with your best friend Robin Buckley at your side and the unexpected addition of Steve Harrington to your duo, the upcoming months seem to promise endless fun and exciting adventures nonetheless. However, as you get closer to Eddie Munson, resident metalhead and drug dealer who’s been forced by his uncle to work at Camp Lovers Lake after another missed graduation, your plans for the summer might have to go in a completely different direction.

Warnings • Cursing, possible mentions and/or depictions of violence, sexually suggestive language. Having no idea where this is going myself, you’ll need to be 18+ to read this fic just in case!

Chapter notes • Well I didn’t expect to get likes so fast, thank you!! Here’s chapter one, which is very introductory and meant to set the story. I already have a few ideas for the next chapters so hopefully I’ll write them down asap! Let me know what you think - and sorry in advance for any mistakes, doing my best job here! :)

Chapter word count: 3k

The hot rays of the summer sun heat the concrete strip that runs through the thick woods, causing the shapes of the trees to wobble and lose definition in the distance. The temperature is unusually high for an early June morning, as they keep repeating on the radio between short intervals of static and fragments of pop songs from the 1985 top chart. 

“Citizens of Hawkins, remember the health guidelines” a female voice echoes from the speakers of the car, “stay hydrated, keep children and elders inside during peak hours and be generous with the SPF. This is going to be one of the hottest summers our town has seen in the last century”. 

You shift in the passenger’s seat, the exposed skin of your legs squeaking against the leather. After adjusting your denim shorts, you lean towards the glove compartment to lazily shuffle among a couple of music cassettes. “They repeat the same things every year” you observe with a sigh, finally picking one tiny plastic box and waving it in front of your mother Claudia. “Can I put on some Abba, instead?”

“No need for that now, darling” your mom replies, turning the wheel to the right as you reach a narrow gravel path covered in leaves and twigs, “We’re here”. 

The dark green of the forest at the side of the road, which has been mixed up in a blur until now, finally acquires more definition as the car slows down. Further ahead down the gravel path, two thick, wooden poles hold up the familiar sign that has welcomed you for almost every past summer: a curved, chipped plank with the words Camp Lover’s Lake written on it with dark green paint. 

The sight of the camp entrance makes your hands prickle with expectation. This will be your last summer as a counselor before senior year and, hopefully, college - and you want to make it one to remember. 

Once you pass under the wooden sign and enter the parking lot, the natural surroundings suddenly come to life as groups of kids and parents walk back and forth between the cars and the cabins, guided by other counselors and the few adult directors. 

The place is literally buzzing with cheers, hugs and greetings among the campers, their excitement reflected by the glittering of the sun rays on the calm surface of the lake, its crystal clear waters slightly visible beyond the main building. 

“Here we are” your mom exclaims, finally stopping the car and opening the door as you bolt out. “Make sure you don’t forget your bags, darling!”

“Yes, mom” you reply, rolling your eyes as you open up the trunk and grab a canvas satchel and a trekking backpack. Suddenly, just as you sling the bags on your shoulder, someone comes up behind you and tickles your waist, causing you to shriek in surprise. 

“Jesus, Robin” you exclaim as you turn around to meet the amused face of your childhood friend Robin Buckley, “You almost gave me a heart attack! I could have died”.

Robin scoffs ironically. “And you almost hit me with those” she replies, nodding at the bags, “I could have got a bruise, or worse, a broken bone. Do you know how much it hurts to break a bone? Way more than a stroke, I can assure-“

“Oh, shut up!” you interrupt your friend’s rambling with a hug, almost toppling her to the ground.

“Did you pack the first aid kit?” Claudia says with a rushed tone, walking around the car to you girls, “And do you have the sheet I made you with all the phone numbers you can call if you need anything?”

“Yes, mom” you repeat, this time with a soft smile, “you know they’re the same numbers every year, right?”

“And every year you seem to lose the note and forget them” Claudia says, kissing your forehead goodbye and patting Robin’s back affectionately. “Have fun, girls. And behave” she concludes, going back inside the car. 

You and Robin wave until the Ford Escort is just a dot at the end of the gravel path. 

“So, no job at the new mall, then?” you ask Robin as the two of you finally turn around and start heading towards the main building of the camp. 

“I actually got a proposal, you know” Robin replies, kicking a pebble on the ground, “serving ice cream at Scoops Ahoy. But I couldn’t ditch our last summer at lovely Lover’s Lake to work at Starcourt, could I? Plus, the dude who did the interview with me was a bit a creepy - he kept staring at my nonexistent boobs for some reason” she concludes with a shiver. 

“Poor guy” you laugh, “little does he know. Was he cute, at least?”

“Jeez, y/n, and how would I know that?” Robin replies, rolling her eyes. “He had lots of hair, if that may help you in assessing his attractiveness. He kept touching it, too”. 

“That sounds a lot like Steve Harrington” you say, causing Robin to elbow you in the side with excitement. “Ouch, Robin!”

“Yes, Steve Harrington! That was his name. Wait, do you know him? Should we avoid him? Is he dangerous?” 

You shake your head, massaging the spot where Robin’s elbow has landed. “God, no, he’s harmless. He’s Dustin’s best friend, basically. They used to run around together all the time last year, doing god knows what”. 

“I see” Robin replies, pondering the new information just to put it aside with a shrug. “So Dustin won’t come this year?” she asks, opening the door of the meeting room on the back of the wooden building you’ve just reached and letting you through. 

“No, he insisted on going to a science retreat or something - Camp Know Where, I think, which sounds a bit nerdy but also cute” you reply, crossing the threshold into the room, “and after weeks of annoying complaining and imploring, mom finally agreed. However, he’ll stay there just one month because it’s too expensive. So I guess we’ll see him here later in July”. 

“That sounds cool” Robin nods, as the two of you find a place to stand on the side of the already full room. “As cool as our summer will be, I hope”. 

The meeting room isn’t very big but it’s airy, with windows facing the lake on one side and the woods on the other. A ceiling fan slowly moves the warm air, which is filled with the sound of low chatter and chairs scratching the wooden floors as everyone starts sitting down on a table in the middle of the room. Tall shelves occupy the space between the windows, overcrowded with old folders and files documenting all the years of activity of the camp. On the wall opposite to the entrance door, a big cork board is plastered with pictures, postcards and various kinds of sheets detailing schedules, cleaning turns and room assignments. 

At the table, something like eight to ten counselors are sitting lazily: some older teenagers, some seniors and a few college first-years. Other kids that couldn’t find a place to sit just stand in its proximity, like you and Robin. Next to the cork board, lined up in an almost military fashion, are five adults: the director, the nurse, the cook and the maintenance and security guys. 

“Welcome, counselors” Mr. Smithson, the director, suddenly exclaims, causing the excited chatter to bubble down. “Today marks the start to a new summer at Camp Lover’s Lake. I’m glad to see many familiar faces” he says, smiling at some boys and girls, including you two, “as well as some new entries” he adds, his gaze lingering especially on a moody-looking, long haired guy, leaning on the wall in the farthest corner of the room. 

You briefly look at him, his face and all black clothes seeming vaguely familiar - but you can’t recall if and where you’ve seen him already. 

“As usual, you will find the assigned cabins for you and for the campers on the outside board. The new uniform is already waiting for you on your beds” Mr. Smithson continues, a proud smile appearing on his face, “we tweaked the design a little bit this year. If you’re new, I’ll see you here in an hour for a camp tour and guidelines review; if you already know it all, today you’re free until dinner, which will be at six. After that, keep two eyes out for the kids, be responsible and have fun. See you later!”

—🏕 —

“I’m getting the upper bed this time” you state as you throw your bags on the dusty floor of cabin 3, “that was our deal”. 

At Camp Lover’s Lake, the kids sleep in larger cabins that host four to six beds. This allows night checks and supervision to be easier for the counselors, who, instead, are usually split up into couples (strictly same-sex ones, as if it does anything to prevent hormone-fueled night escapades) assigned to smaller cabins, furnished with a bunk bed, a small wardrobe and a tiny desk. During the day, those same couples can be mixed up to perform different tasks and activities with the campers, in order to “promote new friendships and a healthy overlapping of social circles”, as Mr. Smithson likes to say. All the shifts and schedules are detailed into a dedicated sheet of paper pinned onto the board in the counselors’ meeting room. 

Thankfully, just like last year, in this glorious summer of 1985 you and Robin have managed to get assigned to the same cabin - which is already cluttered with your stuff, as if your bags have exploded as soon as you’ve set foot into the small wooden room.

“As you wish” Robin sighs, helplessly taking a seat on the lower mattress of the bunk bed, “but don’t ask for my help when you’ll be drunk or half asleep and won’t be able to climb up there”. 

Grabbing the t-shirt that is neatly folded and placed on your bed to examine it, you scoff. “I’m not a child anymore”.

“I wish I had my tape recorder to get these words and make you listen to them again as soon as you’ll ask me to walk with you to the bathrooms in the middle of the night” Robin mocks you with an affectionate smile. 

“Just to have you say yes anyway?” you turn to her with a grin, “Sign me up. By the way, is this the ‘tweak’ Mr. Smithson mentioned? Doesn’t look that different to me” you say, holding up the t-shirt with the camp logo (a bungalow with a pine tree on the side) for Robin to see. 

“Oh, so basically instead of the basic white top they picked a baseball tee with green sleeves that clearly plagiarizes the official colors of Hawkins High” the girl replies, “he looked so proud, though”. 

You laugh, as you start to unbutton your shirt to replace it with the camp one. “I know, his face was literally glowing as he said that”.

“Well, that’s new, though” Robin suddenly exclaims in surprise as she casually glances out the window of the small cabin while you change, “That’s the guy I was talking to you about- Steve Hairington or something”. 

“What do you mean?” You ask curiously, getting closer to Robin and slightly moving the curtains to peer outside. 

“Right there, with Mr. Smithson and that other boy. Do you see him?” Robin replies excitedly, pointing at three figures standing in the path that sneaks around the other cabins towards the lake. One is undoubtedly Steve Harrington in flesh and blood - big hair, cocky pose and everything. 

The other one is the tall guy you’ve noticed in the meeting room. Narrowing your eyes, you give him a double take to properly assess his figure. He’s wearing black jeans with a wide rips on the knees and a chain dangling from a belt loop to one of his back pockets, white, beaten up sneakers and the camp’s t-shirt, which is hanging lazily on his torso. With his long, wavy hair just slightly moving in the light summer breeze, he’s leaning against a tree, arms crossed on his chest and an amused look in his eyes as he listens to Mr. Smithson, who is apparently explaining something to the two of them. 

“Yeah, I see him” you tell Robin, diverting your gaze from tall, long haired boy, “I really wonder what he’s doing here”.

“Maybe he’s stalking me” Robin shivers, moving away from the window and starting to get changed herself.

You giggle, looking back at your friend after the three men disappear beyond the cabin next to yours. “As much as I don’t believe he is, I might not be surprised actually” you reply, “so just to be sure, I’ll ask him later at dinner”.

—🏕 —

The sun is already setting beyond the furthest shore of Lovers Lake. The warm, orange rays are shining through the rustling leaves of the trees surrounding the camp, creating pools of gold on the dusty ground covered in pine needles. 

With the glittering water of the lake in the background, animated by tiny waves splashing on the pebbles of the shore and against the narrow, wooden pier, the main building of the camp - affectionately named “Headquarters” by campers and counselors alike - is echoing with the loud voices and cackles of the kids, sitting at the long tables that fill the large central room.

“Hello, Harrington” you exclaim, startling the boy as you slam your plate on the counselors’ table, sitting down in front of him with a wary and suspicious Robin at your side.

“Jesus, Rose Henderson! You scared the shit out of me” Steve replies with a flustered look and a hand on his chest, but he sits back straight and turns his frown into a smug smile as soon as he eyes Robin. “Hey there, I’m Steve. Do I know you from somewhere?” he asks her with a nod, and you almost chuckle as you can swear he was seconds away from winking at her.

“No” Robin replies sharply, a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Actually, she did the interview with you at Scoops Ahoy” you explain, earning a burning glare from your friend, “So we were wondering why you’re here and not at Starcourt”.

Steve shrugs, poking the generous serving of mashed potatoes on his plate. “It was way to much work and not enough money for one single person since, you know, no one else applied or accepted the job” he explains, side-eyeing Robin. “Also, your brother has been going on and on about summer camp and how it’s supposed to be so much fun and how there are a lot of… uhm, beautiful ladies” he adds, flashing a smile that, if you’re going to be totally honest, makes you vaguely understand why he’s so successful with the female sex.

“Oh god” Robin sighs as she rolls her eyes at the ceiling.

“And what would Dustin know about ladies?” You ask, “He’s just a kid - I hope you’re not corrupting him already” you warn him, pointing at him with your knife.

“First, he’s a teenager” Steve replies, lifting his eyebrows almost condescendingly, “and it’s better for him to have someone to guide him through this delicate phase of… exploration” he tentatively adds, relaxing as soon as he understands that you might actually agree on that. 

“Just make sure you don’t go too far with your teachings, though, Harrington” you tell him, going back to your dinner.

Steve shrugs. “Actually, he’s doing pretty fine on his own. He called me the yesterday saying he met this girl, Suzie-“

“He called you?” You interrupt him with a sigh as you turn to Robin. “He never calls me to tell me stuff”

Robin looks down at you with a knowing expression. “Of course he doesn’t, dingus. You’re a girl and you’re his sister”

“I guess so” you say, then turning back to Steve. “We didn’t see you in the meeting room earlier, though”

“Yeah, I was late” he mouths through a spoonful of potatoes, swallowing it noisily and causing Robin to grimace. “Had to give a lift to Lucas and Will to Mike’s house. Then I came here and went straight for the newbie tour just to find out I’m sleeping with Eddie Munson for three months” he adds, rolling his eyes.

“Eddie who?” You and Robin ask in unison.

“That’s Eddie Munson” Steve explains in a low voice, slightly nodding towards the end of your table, “You might have seen him around school. Deals drugs in the woods behind the football field, has repeated senior year like, twice already… and of course they assigned him to my cabin”.

You follow Steve’s gaze to find out he’s referring to the guy you spotted earlier with him and Mr. Smithson and who is now sitting with Gareth - a kid who is forced by his parents to attend the camp every summer to “keep him out of trouble” while they work. Little do they know of his mischievous attempts at subversion and chaos, which often end up in pretty hilarious situations and that, surprisingly, Mr. Smithson is always in favor of forgiving. Having turned 16 in the winter, this will be his first year as a counselor - and it looks like he has already found the perfect partner to bring his shenanigans up a notch.

“He seems a bit… out of place, here” you observe, diverting your gaze from Eddie Munson and the tattoos that are poking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt just before he catches you staring. 

“He looks scary” Robin states, her eyes sticking to her now empty plate.

“Yeah, well, tell me about it” Steve replies, “At least you don’t have to share a room with him”.

“Oh, so he doesn’t count as a beautiful lady for you then?” Robin jokes, earning an angry glare from Steve, whose piqued reply is shut off by Mr. Smithson announcing that the first dinner of Camp Summer Lake is over and everyone can go back to their cabins for the night.

—🏕 —

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Feedback is always welcome!

Taglist • @meaganjm

[tranquilitybasehotelcasino]

pokemon type traits that have the ability to pass on to humans

water - they usually sport gills, but scales are also common. some get sharp teeth or webbed hands and feet, but that’s rarer. second, clear set of eyelids over eyes to protect from salt or chlorine damage. most have really smooth skin and hair but they need to drink a lot of water or else they’ll dry out :(

fire - they have incredible heat tolerance, especially in the extremities (to the level of “pull a pan out of the oven bare-handed”) and dislike of the cold. run naturally very hot, upwards of two or three degrees above normal. never get burnt no matter how long they spend in the sun

grass - they really do grow faster if you talk to them when they’re kids. some of them have green hair, which is caused by high concentrations of chlorophyll in the keratin cells. they can generally photosynthesize but they can’t actually live off it, it sort of just gives them an energy boost

electric - their bodies are capable of storing much more static electricity than an ordinary person, so much so that some of them can charge electronics by holding them. strands of their hair can carry currents, making them functional wires (this isn’t very common, though)

bug - many have the ability to echolocate, though if you asked them how they do it they wouldn’t be able to tell you. some have sticky skin or iridescent hair, and very rarely can have pseudo-compound eyes. psychologically are incredibly predisposed to living/working in groups rather than in solitude

ice - they have incredible cold tolerance, especially in the extremities (to the level of “dip your hands in liquid nitrogen”) and dislike of the heat. run naturally very cold, but they’re able to regulate their own body temperature much more effectively than others can. frequently found with ice crystals in their hair

ground - their bone structure is incredibly dense, making them much heavier than they look like they should be. prefer salty and crunchy things. they’re very hardy and can withstand a lot, both in terms of injury and in terms of unfavorable conditions, but they tend to have dry skin and stiff joints

poison - their blood is incredibly toxic, despite scientifically not seeming to contain any foreign contaminants. they have iron stomachs and immune systems like concrete walls, and many can burn holes through porous materials like fabric or wood with only their saliva

steel - they have incredibly durable skin that can withstand extensive damage without breaking, bruising or burning. many of them are slightly magnetic. keratin structures (hair, fingernails, tooth enamel) are all extremely strong and far less brittle than that of an ordinary human

flying - their naturally honed reflexes result in noticeable increased agility. can’t actually fly (per se) but generally are able to tolerate high altitudes for far longer than the average human. can also whistle incredibly loud, hold their breath for upwards of seven minutes, and occasionally pull off extremely high jumps

dark - all have extremely specialized night vision, including tapetum lucidum and very elastic pupils (think cat or reptile eyes). many are equipped with fangs or claws, but both are usually unretractable. some are followed by too-dark shadows or look different under moonlight

psychic - hopefully self explanatory, but the actual range of abilities vary. most have either some type of telekinesis or some type of telepathy (a small percentage have both) and a select few have the ability to induce sleep/hypnosis or even intercept visions of the future

ghost - also hopefully self-explanatory, but the level of receptivity to spiritual activity can also vary wildly, ranging from “being particularly likable to ghost type pokemon” to the ability to see, speak to, and interact with fully-formed human apparitions to actually being a ghost themself

rock - similar to ground types, their bone structure is also very dense. several features can appear abiotic in origin, like a feldspar tongue or silver teeth or eyes like cut gemstones. some of them are sensitive to the planet’s magnetic field, giving them excellent senses of direction

fighting - they generally have enhanced speed and strength, often at odds with their actual appearance. they have very high levels of physical endurance and can go for days without sleep, but have very fast metabolisms. high awareness of their own body results in perfect balance and perfect hand-eye coordination

dragon - most are found with scales covering some portion of their skin, ranging from small patches to entire limbs. some observe growth of fangs or horns, but neither ever get particularly large. many exhibit vaguely reptilian traits, such as long tongues or (relatively) cold blood

fairy - their hair often seems to move around by itself, and they’ll often leave smudges of a glitter-like substance on surfaces they touch. large eyes and beautiful singing voices. they’re very conflict-avoidant and their lifespans can exceed others’ by forty-something years

normal - they’re as close to a “regular human” as we would understand, but many of them do have severely diluted traits from other types. generally are found to have thicker/coarser hair and higher tolerance for bright light/loud noise, and are often naturally very flexible

[darylsgirl]

The Farmers Daughter                       Daryl Dixon Smut 18+

Request: Hey i really love all your stories. Could you do one where, the reader is Hershel's daughter and she has just turned 21 and she has a massive crush on Daryl. She is tired of being babied by the entire family ( they won't let her out of prison gates cause she's young) so she asks to go on a run with Daryl as her 21st bday gift. On the run she kinda seduces him and smut ensues.

Also she has kinda tried to seduce him at the prison before too (just subtle hints)

Please please take my request 🥺🥺🥺

Hey guys! Here’s my first ever story written for a request! Hope you liked the way it turned out Anon! And i hope your all having a lovely day <3

Love Jen x

                                                    Masterlist 

You had to admit it was a beautiful day. Looking out across the prison yard, If you ignored the walkers groaning at the fences and well... the whole end of the world thing it might have been a perfect day. Everyone was feeling safe and relaxed for the first time in a long time and enjoying the day as you would have before the end. 

Approaching your dad seeing the relaxed look on his face, You’d thought this would be the perfect opportunity to ask him to let you go out on a run, You were the middle green daughter and he didn’t let you forget it. It was so unfair! He always let Maggie and Beth do whatever they wanted but kept you close by at all times wanting to teach you all he could about medicine, Treating you like nothing more than a baby even though you had just turned 21. 

As always when you asked to go with Daryl his face turned to stone. “You know my feelings on this Y/N, Your much too young, Everyone has a job to do and yours is here” 

“Dad please! I’ve been training, I can take care of myself. You let Beth go! She’s younger than me! Stop treating me like a child” 

“Y/N that’s enough, I said no” 

Knowing you wouldn’t get anything further out of him you stormed off it probably didn’t help things that you were maybe acting like a bit of a child right now. But you couldn’t help it, you were so mad! He had to know you were no longer a child. Most middle children get ignored but not you, He was more strict when it came to you, Babied you constantly. Even before the end Maggie and Beth loved it of course it meant they got away with more because he was always so focused on you. 

Part of you understood why. There had been a nasty incident a few years back with a boy from school which ended in your dad having to pull a shot gun at him to get him to stay away from you. Smiling you remembered the prick’s probably dead now, You’d definitely gotten the last laugh!

Ever since then Hershel had been extremely protective of you, He’d let you attend self defence classes and even taught you to shoot, Which is why it was so mind boggling that he wouldn’t let you do your part. You felt useless just sitting around all day reading old medical books and occasionally helping fix someone up. 

You wanted more than anything to be out there, Pulling your weight helping feed this family! You needed to be out there….With him.

When Daryl had appeared on your family’s farm that day on his motorbike, Your knees almost went weak. That was a man, He was sheer perfection. Unfortunately for you he was a bit of a standoffish man. 

You tried for weeks to get his attention shyly moving closer to him whenever he was around, Whenever he even looked at you he caused the blush to rise in your cheeks.

When he had fallen onto his arrow you were there mopping his brow as he slept. Sadly when he woke he only gave you a grunt of acknowledgement. But still it was more than he had before. 

Still you persisted, He had started warming up to you more since the trip to the prison. You were the one to make sure he ate and cleaned him up every time he managed to get another wound. It was slow going but before you knew it muttered thanks had turned into longer sentences from him. 

He still wasn’t much of a talker but at least he noticed you now. Not in the way you wanted him to but it was better than nothing.

You raised your hand in welcome to him as you saw him making his way across the yard to you.

“Hershel say no?” He asked when he came and took a seat with you on the grass. 

Nodding you sighed, pulling your knees to your ample chest.  Nudging you slightly “Ya don’t wanna be out there anyway, Get’s too dangerous” 

Rolling your eyes “Oh please not you too? How many times do i have to say i can handle myself! I just need a few hours out of here!”

An idea coming to your head you turned to him putting your hand on his shoulder, He froze slightly at this as he seemed to every time anyone touched him. Deciding to ignore it you turned his torso slightly to face yours. 

“You could convince him! You said yesterday there was a pharmacy not too far from here that looked untouched!” 

Shaking his head at you “No Y/N I ain’t goin against Hershel, He’s a good man” 

“Please Daryl, You could consider it a birthday gift to me? And i could be useful! I know what medicines to look out for” 

“Who said i was gonna get ya anything?” He grumbled. Moving closer to him and putting your hand on his chest. 

“Please Daryl, He’ll listen to you” You purred hoping it came across sultry. 

His eyes met yours very briefly, His eyes wide when he saw how close you were. Standing to his feet suddenly “Alright fine, If it’ll get ya to quit harpin on”

He turned leaving you on the grass before stalking off towards your dad. You waited there for what felt like forever watching the corner he had disappeared behind. 

When he finally reappeared you got to your feet meeting him halfway.

“Well?” He gave you a short nod of confirmation. Jumping up at him excitedly you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Thank you!!” He froze in place again before relaxing into your hug. 

Patting your shoulder once “Go on then, Get ya stuff we leave in 10” As you pulled away you saw a slight smile on his lips before running back to the Cells to grab a bag. Packing two bottles of water and some protein bars leaving the rest empty to carry anything you might find. Slinging it over your shoulder before strapping your pistol to one side of your belt and your knife on the other. 

Running back out you saw your dad waiting by the step. You almost knocked him off his crutches hugging him tightly

“Thank you Daddy”

He hugged you back “You be safe Y/N Listen to everything Daryl tells you!” Pulling away from him you nodded gratefully. 

“Ready to go?” Smiling you turned and started to walk away. Hearing your dad call “Take care of my little girl Dixon!” Daryl just raised an arm in response before leading you over to the bike. 

Swinging his leg over her motioned for you to do the same. Smiling happily you jumped on the back wrapping your arms firmly around his chest, Your fingers desperately wanting to touch all of him. 

“Ya don’t need to hold on so tight!” He grumbled at you. “Oh sorry!” You moved your hands slowly from his chest favouring every second until they were resting gently on his waist. As he pulled out of the main gate you put your chin on his shoulder grinning.

He hid the bike a few blocks away from the pharmacy before continuing on foot. On the way you only encountered one walker. Putting your hand on his arm as he raised his crossbow. 

“Let me do it” He nodded to you, letting you charge ahead with your knife drawn. Easily taking the walker down, Swiping the walkers feet from under it you plunged your knife into his head before turning back to Daryl “See i can take care of myself”

Handing you a rag from his belt you cleaned the blood off your knife before handing it back to him. 

“Never said you couldn’t Y/N” he said before continuing on to the pharmacy. As you reached the shutters Daryl Raised one slightly looking underneath before knocking on the shutter a few times making a racket.

“Daryl! What are you doing” You whispered urgently. 

He put his finger to his mouth while he listened for a moment before pulling the shutter fully open stepping behind it motioning for you to follow. Stepping in you noticed the door to the pharmacy was still closed and your bodies were pressed tightly together. 

Your breath was stuck in your chest, Your heart pounding as you felt his body on yours. He looked at you confused for a moment before moving his arms around you to the open shutter. Pulling it back down again, You felt as the muscles in his arms rolled down your entire body pulling the shutter. His head was at your crotch when you let in a sharp intake of breath as his head brushed you core. 

He darted upwards to you again “You ok Y/N? We can go back if ya scared”

His words snapping you out of it, You felt the blush rise in your face “m’not scared”

You were dying for him to kiss you, As you looked up you saw his lips were only inches from yours, Surely he had to feel this too? You closed your eyes inching closer till your lips were just about touching. You could feel his hot breath cascading over your lips. The world paused for a second while you waited to see if he would close the gap. 

Clearing his throat “Looks empty, Let’s go in” You opened your eyes as you heard the tinkle of the bell signalling the door had been opened. And just as quick as the moment had come it was gone. 

You stood frozen at the door for a moment trying to gather your thoughts. Could he really not see what just being in close proximity to him did to her? 

You walked after him further into the pharmacy jumping behind the desk “Jackpot! This place is completely untouched!” 

“Grab what we need, We’ll come back for the rest with more people” 

You filled your bag as Daryl went around the aisles picking up other essentials. 

You closed the pharmacy back up adding a lock to the shutter as you left, Hopefully no one else would stumble across it before you had a chance to come back. 

Daryl agreed when you asked to walk back through the woods. It was far too hot to go all that way in the sun. It was still hot under the trees but at least you were being protected from the sun, Daryl stopped and waited for you as you dropped your bag pulling off the loose over shirt your father always made you wear. 

You saw his eyes wander over you as it came over your head showing your curves to him for the first time in your tight white vest. 

His eyes were dark, You couldn’t tell if he was angry with you or if it was something else. 

Looking away from him now “Sorry, I just need some air….Wait what’s that?” He darted forward pushing his body in front of you looking for danger. 

Rolling your eyes you stepped around him picking up the bag and heading to the cabin you had seen. Stopping in the doorway you copied Daryl’s previous actions knocking on the doorway. 

All of a sudden his arms were around you lifting you from the ground pulling you inside the cabin, Closing the door behind you both his hand was over your mouth, His mouth to your ear “Shh, There’s a herd bout 50, Don’t think they saw us” 

As he put you gently back down you both made your way further into the cabin to check for threats, After searching the bedroom he pulled you inside before blocking the door with the set of drawers. 

He made his way to the bed before lying down “might as well make ourselves comfortable gonna be here awhile” You sat on the bed not facing him for a moment before taking a deep breath and lying down on the bed. 

You saw him looking at your chest before he sat back up “Almost forgot” He grabbed his bag. “Happy birthday 21 right?” 

Pulling out a bottle of whiskey and handing it to you. You looked at it nervously taking a deep breath and just going for it. You ripped the cork out taking a deep swig, Dropping the bottle back down you scrunched your nose a little in disgust

“What girl ya never had whiskey?” 

“Never had any alcohol, Dad never let us with him being in recovery and all” You shrugged taking another pull on the bottle. 

He snatched it from your hands then “Didn’ no it were your first. Ya can’t drink it like water, Gotta take it slow” 

You chuckled slightly at his words laying back down on the bed with him following you. 

“What’s so funny kid?” 

“Don’t call me that” You said as your eyes narrowed. 

He looked at you amused “It’s what ya are” 

Lurching forward you pressed your lips to his, feeling him freeze under you, You held your lips there urgently, Pulling your hands to his face and pulling it to yours. You pulled away slightly when he didn’t return the kiss.

“I aint a kid, I saw the way you looked at me earlier. I know you know that too” You said breathlessly. 

Looking down at your lips he replied “Ya still Hershel’s Kid he wouldn’ like this” He ran his hand through his hair.

Feeling angry again Your hands were still on his face “Does it look like i care what he thinks? Right now Daryl all I care about is this. Feeling you against me. I need it. I’ve needed it since the moment i saw you” 

His eyes darted up to yours seeing only the truth in your eyes. “Kiss me Dixon” 

His tongue licked his bottom lip slightly. Pushing your lips back to his you took his bottom lip in your mouth tugging on it slightly with your teeth. 

You heard the low growl coming from his chest as you tugged harder. 

“Fuck it” He muttered against your lips before flipping you onto your back kissing you back harshly. 

You let a moan escape your lips as he settled over you arching into his chest, He nudged your knees apart before putting one hand behind your thigh and lifting it around his hips. The other hand was on your waist. Both hands kneading your skin harshly. 

His hands felt like they were burning through your clothes. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, Moaning again you ground your hips upwards desperate to feel his heat against yours. 

He pulled away panting resting his forehead against yours. 

“You sure Y/N” Grinning at him you pulled your hands to the neck of your shirt ripping it open slightly. 

“Never been so sure Daryl” His eyes watched growing darker, pulling his hands to the rip you had started already he ripped the shirt from you with ease, hands going to the front of your bra tearing that too. 

You could feel his breath on your chest as he ducked down taking one of your nipples into your mouth and biting down on it. You moaned louder now reaching down, you pushed the vest from his shoulder before turning your attention to his shirt groaning as you realised you couldn’t reach the hem to pull it up. 

He chuckled watching you sitting up over you he pulled the shirt off himself. Glaring down at you now with his dark hungry eyes. Moving from you he stood next to the bed. 

“Take em off...Now” His thick southern drawl made your already wet panties soak. 

Your hand slowly went to the button on your jeans not wanting to take your eyes off him, His glare grew darker.

“Ya aint fast enough” He lunged over you gripping the pants at your sides and tearing them down, You gasped now realising you were fully bare for him, His eyes met yours as you looked towards his pants, Your thighs rubbing together in delicious anticipation. 

He untied the cord of material holding his pants up letting them drop to the ground. 

Licking your lips you stared at his huge length. Walking over to you he pressed his cock to your lips gently.

“This what you want?” 

“Mmm yes please Daryl” You stuck your tongue out tasting the tip of him, God he tasted good. You opened your lips intending to wrap them around him, When you felt a hand in your hair pulling your head back. 

“Say ya want my cock Y/N in that dirty little mouth” Looking at his eyes now you could see he was serious. 

Pushing him back from the bed you climbed off sinking to your knees in front of him. 

“Mmmm let me have your cock in my dirty….little….Mouth…..Please?” You breathed

His fingers caressed your face for a moment He murmured “Better Y/N….Go on take what ya want girl” 

Reaching your hands up to his length you held it gleefully smiling as you brought it back to your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the tip you let your eyes fix on his again as you sunk him deep into your mouth, As it hit your throat you let it choke you slightly moaning around his length. 

“Shit Y/N” Daryl let his mouth drop open and his head hang backwards enjoying your lips around him, Putting his hands back in your hair he pushed you fully down his length until your lips met his pubic bone, You choked again, Breathing through your nose you held yourself on him getting used to the feeling of him stretching your throat. 

Moaning on him again he pushed and pulled you over his cock until you felt it throbbing, Pulling you fully off him he looked back down at you wildly. 

“Shit, Ya too good at that. I almost -” You cut him off pulling him back into your mouth with determination bobbing faster over him until he fell over the edge spilling his huge load into your mouth. You heard him cry out your name whilst he fucked your face harder letting the last of his orgasm roll out. 

Once he slowed you pulled him from your mouth swallowing before licking every inch of him clean drinking every drop like it was life or death. 

He wrapped one hand around your throat now pulling you back up to him. 

“Get back on the bed, Knees up legs wide. Now” He growled. 

Still catching your breath you did as you were told. He kneeled on the bed between your legs rubbing his still hard cock up and down your folds. Grinning at you mischievously he pulled completely away, Watching you squirm from the lack of contact. 

Leaning over your body he whispered in your ear 

“Ya aint ready for that...Not yet anyway” He roughly pushed your chin upwards pushing your head back into the pillow. 

Kissing his way down your neck he moved to your chest, Lifting your breast he sucked just underneath your nipple hard enough to leave his mark, Moving down your sternum he left three more identical marks from your breasts to your belly button. Marking you as his. As he reached your dripping heat you tried to grind up towards him.

Using his hand over your hips he held you down, 

“Ya gotta wait Y/N You’ll get it when im fucking ready” He growled again before sinking his teeth into the inside of your thigh, You let out a loud mewl trying to stem the noise biting down on your forearm. 

He bit harder now before letting go and glaring up at you, “Dont ya dare stop it, I wanna hear ya”

Panting for breath you looked down at him “But the …...Mmm shit...The walkers..will hear us!” 

“Let them fuckin hear, I’ll kill everyone of those dead bastards if they try to get between me and this sweet pussy” He ran one finger softly down your folds to accentuate his point. 

Moving your hand back down onto the bed you gripped the sheets with both hands as he sucked and bit the inside of both of your thighs leaving multiple love bites. 

“Please Daryl! I can...ntt take it anymore”

Seeing the need in your eyes he harshly took your clit in his mouth sucking and nibbling on it before moving his tongue down to your entrance, He lapped at the juices flowing out of you for a minute before replacing his tongue with his fingers, Pushing two inside he rocked them in and out of you bringing his lips back to your throbbing clit. 

“God Y/N you taste so fucking good” You could feel the pleasure building higher and your moans getting louder as you were rapidly reaching your high. You could feel your walls clenching on his fingers as he started moving quicker. 

“Ahhh, Shit Daryl” You screamed letting your high crash around you, You could feel him moaning into your clit as you screamed his name. Pushing another finger into you as you rode them blissfully feeling him stretch them inside you before pulling them out, Leaning back over you he pressed his fingers to your mouth. 

“Clean em” You sucked on them happily feeling the slickness in your pussy coming back as it did every time you saw him. 

Once he had deemed them clean enough he dropped his hand back to you.

“Mmm ready for me again so soon?” You bit your lip gazing up at him with your best innocent face. 

“So ready baby, Please...Please fuck me Daryl”

“Ya only needed to ask Y/N” He quickly pumped his cock a few times before pushing it slowly into you, Gasping a little in pain he stopped. “You ok?” 

“Yeah….Its just so fucking big” He grinned as he continued pushing into you until he reached his hilt grunting as he felt your walls moulding around him. Staying still for a moment he let you get used to his length. Pressing his lips back down to yours he tugged at your lower lip with his teeth parting your lips before diving back in with his tongue. 

Your tongues danced together fighting for dominance, He moaned into your mouth as he started moving again slowly at first building his speed until he was pounding mercilessly into you. 

Rolling back till he was sat back on his legs he pulled your legs over his shoulders gripping them tightly using them to drive himself even deeper and harder into you. Your hands wound your way into your own hair pulling at it gently letting the pleasure of his relentless pounding completely take control of your senses as you feel yourself letting go to him again. 

You back arched high as you felt your high building. 

Daryl let one hand fall to your aching clit rolling it with his fingers. 

“That’s it Y/N cum for me, Cum all over this cock” He growled loudly. You felt him pulsing inside you and it sent you straight over the edge. 

“Fuckkkkk Daryl!!” You screamed bucking your hips against him as you rode out your high. 

Daryl couldn’t take it anymore watching you buck wildly against him screaming his name, He exploded thrusting deeper into you letting his hot cum wash over your walls. 

He let go of your legs letting them crash to the sides of him, Your entire body was trembling now as he collapsed forward on top of you, Both gasping for air. 

When he rolled off you, You looked him straight in the eyes “Told you i could be useful” You giggled. 

“I think we may need to convince ya dad to let you on more of these runs Y/N. Very fucking useful” he said pushing his lips back to yours for a sweet kiss this time. 

Putting his arm around your shoulders he pulled you to him letting your head lay on his chest. You could definitely get used to this. 

You sighed before continuing in awe “Happy fucking birthday to me” 

He chuckled kissing your hair. You lay happily in his arms until the sun started to go down, Only breaking the happy stillness to let your lips meet lovingly.

Looking out the window he murmured “C’mon best be getting back. Dont need em sendin out a search party and findin us like this” 

Groaning you let him pull you up, Both getting dressed. Daryl picked up your ruined shirt and bra stuffing them into his own bag with a wink, Thank god you had worn two shirts today. Daryl then pulled the draws away from the door running through the cabin to check it was still secure. You followed him out of the cabin and back to the bike. 

Happily putting your arms around him and running your fingers across his chest, Enjoying the last moments of your freedom as he drove you back to the prison and through the gates.

You sisters came running to meet you as you returned checking you over before giving you hugs in turn, Maggie took a step back staring into your eyes for a moment before leaning back into you whispering so only you two could hear

“I see you got your birthday wish lil sis” Your eyes went wide in panic, Grinning at you she whispered again. “I know the scent of cum when I smell it. It’s all over your breath, That and you're definitely no longer wearing a bra” 

You flushed embarrassed hoping no one else would notice looking back at her with a panicked whisper “Don’t tell Daddy!” She nodded at you looking behind you to the guard tower “Looks like it's time for round two” She nodded towards Daryl who was standing there staring at you drinking you in with his eyes again. 

“Don’t worry ill cover for you, Just go” She winked. Running over to the tower you slipped in closing the door as you felt his hand at your throat again. 

“Ya all mine now Y/N”

“So you don’t think I’m a kid anymore” You asked playfully. 

“Nah, Your definitely all fucking woman” He growled back before pulling you back into a room and fucking you till you were mewling all over again for him.

Taglist! :) Let me know if you want on or off it :) 

@pncnsc​

@jazzy1118​​

@one-shot-plus-size​

@marvelfansworld​

@phoenixblack89​ 

@fuseburner​

@angelofthorr​

@jodiereedus22​

                                                   Masterlist

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day One: Sparks Fly

Summary: Virgil goes deeper into the forest than he’s ventured before in the hopes of gathering more food. He finds more than he bargained for when a fairy claiming to be the prince of the forest begins to follow him.

Warnings: food mention. If there’s more please let me know!

Ships: Prinxiety (Virgil x Roman)

Prompt: Feel a spark when you touch your soulmate

WC: 3959

AO3

Tugging his long, dark cloak impatiently away from a jagged branch, Virgil skid down the steep embankment swearing the entire way. He didn’t often venture this far into the woods but he was getting just desperate enough to find gatherable ingredients he had decided to risk it. Honestly as long as he kept his eyes straight ahead and avoided the beckoning twinkles of light between the trees he should be fine. Thankfully this time of year the river was reduced to a large creek at best, making crossing to the other side where he was certain to find berries and mushrooms aplenty quite easy. It was only a matter of keeping his balance on the slimy rocks that normally made up the river bed, a skill he had mastered before he had even been entrusted as a gatherer.

Hiking his pants up to just below his knees he carefully adjusted his pack to be more balanced and draped the bottom of his cloak over his arm for good measure. The last thing he needed was to be scolded for dripping mud all over the floors again when he returned to the kitchens. Absentmindedly rubbing the stinging memory from the back of his head he hopped to the first rock, breath hissing between his teeth as the cold water rushed over his heated skin. With another breath he was perched on the second rock and then the third, toes gripping the moss in a mostly unneeded measure for stability. Wiggling a bit so his pack would recenter he eyed his next target, muscles tensing in preparation for the bigger leap.

“What are you doing?”

Squawking in alarm, Virgil tipped back dangerously, arms pinwheeling as his feet lost their purchase and let him fall backwards into the creek. Taking a brief moment to thank the gods he hadn’t landed on a rock he sat up quickly, sputtering as water ran down his face and soaked his shirt more than it already was. His cloak dragged behind him as he tried to get up, aiding only in him slipping back again with an unceremonial splash.

“Oh my dear I didn’t mean to frighten you!” There was more mirth than malice in the voice but that didn’t stop Virgil from flinching away from the strange hand that reached towards him. It retreated as he shoved sopping hair from his eyes and squinted against the sun to try and see what idiot made it a habit to scare people when they were jumping on wet stones. His breath caught when a face finally came into focus, sunlight forming a halo around the most beautiful person Virgil had ever seen.

His brightness was almost blinding, with shining red curls looking like spun gold in the light. Sharp features complemented kind brown eyes and tanned skin flecked with earth. Like Virgil he was barefoot, but instead of wearing sturdy pants and shirt to protect himself from the woods, autumn-red pants flowed just below his knees with an equally flowy white shirt tucked into them and unbuttoned to the chest. Despite the darkness of his skin he seemed to radiate his own gentle light that somehow made the sun look dull by comparison, making Virgil idly wonder if this was what seeing a god was like.

“Prince actually, but you do know how to inflate the ego.” The man chuckled.

Face burning with the realization that he had not only said that outloud but he had also been sitting in the water gaping like a stunned fish for entirely too long. Mumbling low curses under his breath he once again struggled to his feet while waving away the other’s outstretched hand impatiently. A fairy prince coming to pester someone with zero assets or connections- the fae were worse pranksters than they had the reputation for. Sighing, he decided to wade the rest of the way through the creek since he was already soaked, leaving the stranger behind in hopes he would stay there.

“So you never did answer.” No such luck apparently. “You do realize what part of the forest you’re in right?”

Virgil gritted his teeth. “I don’t wish to consort with your kind fae. I’ll only be in here for a little while.”

“My kind?” Virgil winced as he detected insult in his tone. “My kind are the reason your kind feel safe enough to traipse wherever you please regardless of obvious territorial lines!”

Virgil glanced at him quickly as he began scrambling up the incline of the bank. “Territorial lines?”

The man drew himself up proudly, keeping pace with Virgil as he effortlessly stepped his way up the embankment rather than crawling. “This part of the forest is mine, a long way from the edge of the river by your route. I could turn you into dandelion fluff for trespassing here.”

Virgil raised an unimpressed brow as he searched around for his next handhold. “Mhm, I’m sure you could.”

Smirking as the other man stomped his foot impatiently he made it up and over to the other side, slinging his pack around to see how damaged the things he had already gathered were from his earlier fall. Shoulders sinking as he surveyed the smashed contents he shot a glare at the stranger, who was currently standing on tiptoes with his arms crossed trying to see inside the bag.

“Humans used to grovel at our feet, what happened to that? Also is it custom to smash ingredients well before they’re cooked? I’m not caught up with the latest human affairs. Terribly dull, most of them.”

Gritting his teeth Virgil dumped the berries and mushrooms he had collected onto the forest floor, water that had seeped in from the top sloshing out as well and coming out like a weird, thick juice for all the mush everything had turned into. “They only smashed because I fell- something I never do unless someone decides it's a good idea to startle someone who’s trying to balance.”

The man looked unimpressed. “Why were you coming over this way anyway? There should be plenty of the things you were collecting on the other side of the river...and much closer to the nearest village too might I add.”

“Fall makes the pickings slimmer the closer to the village you are. Other people gather, animals eat what ‘s left, sparcer trees means more sun means things ripen and fall faster. I was trying my luck further in.”

“And you came alone?”

“None of your business.” Virgil hauled up the pack and stood. “I’m a tracker so I’m the one that usually gets sent out.”

“Oh really? Must be an expert to come out this late.”

“Sure.” Grunting, Virgil stepped over a rotting log and began pushing his way through bushes.

The man snorted. “Expert tracker- when I could hear you tromping through here from across the forest.” 

“Your words not mine. And stop following me, I’m only here to gather ingredients.”

They continued on in silence for a while, the fae following behind him near silently as he kept an eye out for anything edible. The crops had been plentiful this year but berries, nuts and mushrooms weren’t something locally grown, so gatherers routinely went into the forest to search for them to dry for the winter. Fast protein was always welcome in the harsher months when tracking fresh meat became a dangerous chore.

The forest was quiet here, nearly serene if it wasn’t for the fae still following him no matter how harsh a path he took- not that he was having much luck finding easier ones. He imagined he could easily get lost here if he wasn’t careful so he kept an eye on the direction of the shadows and any landmarks he spotted so he couldn’t get turned around. Fair folk were rarely hostile towards travelers as long as you met them on their level and stated your intentions clearly. Most of the time a certain level of sass while only answering them when they were curious served Virgil just fine. Of course, they didn’t normally follow him either but he remained unconcerned so long as the forest didn’t turn hostile. He didn’t think he’d succeeded in pissing the other off that much...hopefully.

It was some time later when Virgil found his cloak snared on a branch as he was struggling to get over a particularly high log. Crawling under it hadn’t been an option so now he was stuck straddling the thing awkwardly with the cloak snagging in one direction and his pants in the other. Blowing out a frustrated breath he startled as the fae appeared a foot from his face, brown eyes searching his green ones as he struggled not to fall backwards for a second time.

“What are you tracking anyway?”

“What?” 

“You’re a tracker, so what are you tracking?”

Virgil resumed trying to lift himself enough to get his other leg over without ripping his pants. “Nothing at the moment. Not that, again, it’s any of your business.”

The fae glanced at the dirt under his nails and hummed thoughtfully. “Mushrooms is it?”

Groaning, Virgil sat back down and instead reached behind him to try and tug his cloak free. “Partly.”

Trying and failing to get his cloak untangled he stumbled as his feet found solid ground after dangling for the better part of ten minutes, nearly overbalancing for the third time that day as the fabric went limp in his stranglehold. Looking up he saw the spot on the river bank he had climbed over not ten minutes before with a significantly lighter pack. Confused, he slung it around and peeked inside only to see it nearly overflowing with varieties of mushrooms he had never seen mixed with the more common ones he had found before. Opening his mouth to speak he quickly shut it as a light breeze carried faint laughter through the trees.

“Feel free to thank me later.” A faint voice called.

Looking down again, he carefully closed the pack and looked up at the sky. It was barely encroaching late afternoon...would anyone believe he had gathered these that quickly? Deciding to just say he had gotten turned around and found a good spot if anyone asked he started hiking his way back as slowly as he could. He’d have to find something to offer as thanks when he came back.

-----

“You’re back.”

Virgil shuffled around a low shrub between the trees awkwardly. “Mhm.”

“Do you need more mushrooms?” The fae crouched on a low branch, balancing on his tip toes as he watched Virgil struggle through the underbrush. 

“They asked me to come back- ow!” Stumbling away from the bush he knelt down to tear away some thorns sticking out of his pants. “Since I was so successful yesterday they asked me to come back to find more. Among other things.”

“They?”

“People from the kitchens.” He started off in a slightly different direction, seeing sunlight a little ways away and hoping for a clearing.

“What else do you need?”

“A variety of things to dry for the winter. Nothing to concern yourself with. I won’t invade your forest for too long.”

“A shame. My forest is beautiful but I’ve found I enjoy looking at you more.”

Virgil stopped in his tracks as he tried to process the comment. Was this a trick? Some weird fae flirting technique to get his guard down so he gave away his soul? Which reminded him-

“Not because of that comment, but for helping me the other day.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a smooth skipping stone, the surface a perfect, uniform pale gray. He knew fairies rarely had use for human materials but things like this could be enchanted or used for entertainment- the more pleasing to the eye the better. “Here. And...thank you.”

The man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the stone, taking it carefully and running his fingers gently over the smooth surface. “For me?”

“Don’t expect it again, I don’t expect anything more from you.” Hoping that would settle it, Virgil continued on in the direction of the clearing. Fae were always tricky to get involved with and with the fall harvests approaching, continuing to speak with one claiming to be a prince wasn’t something he would allow himself to get involved with- at most for the sake of the village and at the very least for his own sanity.

“A pity really.” The fae called from behind him. “I could help you find whatever you need.”

Gritting his teeth, Virgil resisted. “I don’t need any help.”

“Right, expert tracker and all that.” He startled as his pest of a companion appeared in front of him waving a hand dismissively. “This is my forest and I can bend it however it suits me at the moment. Right now it suits me to help you, why won’t you let me?”

“I don’t want to owe you anything. Owing things is a risky business- especially with fae. No offense.”

The fae sniffed indignantly, putting a hand  dramatically over his heart. “No offense indeed! I suppose this wound was here before you arrived, it’s fine really.”

Virgil glanced over as the other man draped a hand over his eyes and leaned back slightly, sighing loud and deliberate and trying to disguise the fact he was peeking at his human companion from under his arm. Virgil couldn’t help it- he barked out a laugh he managed to quickly catch with a hand slapped over his mouth. Watching as a wide grin took over the fae’s features he realized he was too late and the damage had been done. He stalked over and jabbed the air in front of Virgil with a perfectly manicured finger. 

“You like my company!”

Blinking, Virgil lowered his hand. “Absolutely not!”

“You do! You find me amusing! Dare I say charming!”

Snorting, Virgil readjusted his pack. “Uh-huh. Nothing like a raving lunatic spouting he’s royalty to get the giggle juice flowing.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe fae will say anything to strike whatever emotion they want in a human. Whether it be fear or awe, the end goal is always to lead someone astray.”

Glancing over he startled when he saw the other man actually looked a bit hurt at his words, head down and eyes flicking to the side with a tight draw to the lips. A trick...obviously. But one that had him reconsidering his choice of words.

“Look I-”

The fae held up a hand. “It’s okay! I’ll prove it to you! You need mushrooms and berries and the like right?”

“Uh- yeah?” Virgil watched as the fae stepped forward and furrowed his brow in concentration. Bringing his arms up towards the clearing he swung his arms out and up before slouching tiredly. 

Virgil squinted against the sunlight shining overhead, looking around in wonder. They were in a large clearing absolutely teeming with enough plantlife to fill his pack ten times over. Dappled shade dominated at least half of the clearing as the sun shone through the bright trees at an angle. Soft grass soothed his aching feet that had previously been treading on nothing but snapping sticks and long-dead leaves. It was beautiful- and  glancing over at his companion as bright gold shot through his hair and the sudden calming warmth relaxed him- Virgil could tell he was in his element. 

“Did you just use magic in front of me?” He honestly hadn’t thought the fae would go that far to prove a point.

“Watch regular fair folk top that for ability.” the fae mumbled under his breath. Speaking up, he flashed a bright smile and punched a hand lightly onto his hip. “Of course! Got the point across didn’t it? Never seen a fairy bend a forest before?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen a fairy perform any magic before. Usually they keep that to themselves. Honestly none of the good neighbors have paid me any mind before whether I was in their territory or not.”

“Oh.” The fae sputtered uselessly for a moment, fluttering his head to his hair to fidget with the curls. “Well, clearly that’s their loss. Berries, was it?”

Face burning, Virgil nodded mutely and made his way over to a far tree that looked like it promised chestnuts in the higher branches. He never figured having company, however forced upon him it was, would be so nice. 

Later, when Virgil’s pack was practically bursting at the seams, he reluctantly turned towards home. The afternoon had been wonderful, gathering enough to make the people in the village happy while listening to the other man as he sang almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. Rich, low tones filled the clearing with a bright melody that Virgil didn't recognize but found himself humming along to- much to his companions utter delight. 

It had surprised him when he began singing popular festival songs after that, thinking that fair folk never bothered much with humans and therefore wouldn’t know many traditional tunes. But when Virgil had started softly singing along, offering a wry grin when the other man had started excitedly bouncing on his toes from having a singing partner he couldn’t bring himself to care. Eventually both of them had started getting louder and louder, swaying along to an invisible beat as they had continued collecting what was needed. Another reason Virgil was reluctant to return to the village for fear their noise had reached ears he’d rather not explain himself to. He found it strange that he felt drawn to stay, stranger still that he didn’t immediately think it was some trick on his companions' part. He just- enjoyed his company and wished he could come into the forest to actually visit rather than just his job. Pressing his lips together he turned around, smiling faintly and gesturing to his back.

“You really didn’t have to help, or keep helping. But thank you again-”

“Roman!” The fairy blurted at his slight pause.

Smirking, Virgil cocked his head to one side. “Aren’t I supposed to give you my name first?”

Roman shuffled slightly. “Yes well, seems a shame that if you were to think of me you’d have no name to give the thoughts.”

“Bold of you to assume I think of you after leaving the woods.”

“How could you not?” Striking a bold pose he sniffed indignantly. “It’d be an insult really, wounding me so deeply.”

Chuckling Virgil turned and started walking away. “I’ll be sure to bring bandages next time.”

“It’s a date, Doom and Gloom!”

“That a promise, Sir Sing-a-lot?”

“If my serenades are what brings you back I shall renounce my princehood and become a siren.”

“Your voice is certainly deadly enough, leads to something prettier though.” 

The forest was silent for a moment, before Virgil began walking as quickly as possible without stabbing his feet to the edge of the woods. Why had he said that? Did he mean that? Of course he meant it but why on the gods green earth had he said it? Could he even come back now? Chest tight with nervous anxiety and head swimming he didn't look back as he dashed out of the trees.

Though if he had he would have seen Roman standing stock still, face a mask of shock but slowly splitting into a flustered smile below rapidly reddening cheeks.

-----

When Virgil stepped into the creek the following day, it was without his pack. Early evening sunlight drifted through the trees as a slight breeze ruffled the cloak around his shoulders. Pushing his dark hair away from his eyes he surveyed the banks for any sign of Roman, deflating a bit when he saw none. It was stupid to think he could get away with saying something so forthright without reaping anything but negative consequences. It was just as well he supposed, consorting with fair folk never led to anything good after all. He had just- hoped this would be different.

Fair folk and humans rarely mixed well, platonic or not, and once he found his soulmate he was doubtful they would enjoy the thought of fraternizing so casually with one of the good neighbors- especially one as powerful as Roman appeared to be. If he knew anything of the fae it was that one didn't just casually bend an entire forest to their will with so little effort by themselves. Sighing, he turned to leave, feet missing the wispy grass of the clearing as they crunched through dead leaves.

“Going so soon?” Whirling around he was met with a charming smile, Roman balancing on a rock in the middle of the creek with a hip thrust out cockily.

“I thought- I didn’t think you’d come back around.”

“If you were trying to get me to leave, your methods are wanting my friend.” Roman squinted at him curiously. “No pack today?”

Virgil shuffled a bit before answering. “I- just wanted to see you.”

Blinking in surprise, Roman smiled warmly. “What an honor it is that our wants should align. Care to join me?”

Face burning, Virgil was quick to hop to the first rock, finding his balance easily. Keeping his head down he stepped from rock to slippery rock, finally getting close to where he assumed Roman would be. Looking up however, he didn’t expect to be quite as close as he had gotten, vision suddenly filled with deep brown eyes surrounded by flaming red curls. Yelping he tipped backwards, arms reaching forward in a desperate attempt to not repeat their first meeting even as he prepared to go home soaking once again.

To his surprise, the riverbed never rose to meet him, instead finding himself surrounded by the scent of wildflowers and moss in the most comforting embrace he’d ever been in. Virgil tilted his face up when he heard Roman gasp in wonder, his own eyes widening in disbelief as he leaned back to take in their surroundings. Colorful sparks seemed to catch the evening sunset as they bounced off and around them, falling like stars imbued with the colors of the sky and sizzling as they hit the water only to be immediately replaced by ten more. 

Leaning back but still catching each other’s arms they watched as the sparks continued to fly around them in a frenzied shower, dimming the already fading sun itself in their wake. Virgil watched as the light caught itself in Roman’s eyes, flecking the brown with golds and brilliant reds and deep purples. Seeing his face literally light up in amazement and wonder, Virgil couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, then tilting his head back and laughing out loud.

“What- why are you laughing?” Receiving no answer, Roman grinned uncertainly. “Do I have something on my face?”

Shaking his head, Virgil stifled another bout of laughter to answer. “I’ve never seen the sparks of soulmates before. Are they supposed to be this dramatic or is it just because of you?”

Smile turning more genuine and laughing himself, Roman let go of his arms and instead wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted, twirling them around with a sure step even as the water splashed around his feet. Setting him down gently, he rested his forehead against Virgil and held him as close as he could. 

“Maybe both- knowing me, probably more of the latter. Do you really mind?”

The sparks were dying down as the sky darkened and yet to Virgil his companion still stood bright enough that he feared nothing the darkness could threaten him with. Leaning impossibly closer he touched Roman’s nose to his  own and smiled softly.

“Absolutely not.”

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[laurafett]

Unfamiliar Fruit

PART ONE

Friends to lovers, sex pollen Boba Fett x f reader 

Words: 10k

- You and Boba are guests in a palace on a different planet. The King serves you some strange food, with the intetion of doing both of you a favour - 

No mentions of pronouns, hair or skin color, sexuality. Also, let’s pretend that there is underwear in space. Minors, do NOT interact!!

Warnings: smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 18+), mentions of food and eating, masturbation (m and f), comlink sex, pain due to sex pollen, slight voice kink 

______________________________________________________________

Why did you always let yourself get dragged into some bantha shit like this? You were dirty, sweaty and smelled like the inside of a Tauntaun. Boba told you this was going to be a short hunt for which he needed your help. Just one bounty he would have to hunt and collect. He said it would take about two or three days. Yeah, no shit. You were sitting on this Marker forsaken planet for almost two weeks now because Boba found some new connections for his business on Tatooine.

He didn't want you to get into trouble so you had to stay in Slave I almost every day. You had no clean clothes, the water tank for the shower was already empty and soon you would be out of food too.

You sat in this tiny, dirty ship while the bounty hunter probably was living in a  big, glamorous palace at the other side of the town. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, letting out a sight as you tried to find a comfortable position in the pilots seat. This was where you spent most of your days, sitting in the cockpit while looking out of the big window in front of you.

It was a green planet, with lots of trees and fields of grasses. It was a welcome sight after spending so much time on Tatooine. The air here was cool and fresh, but it was not exactly cold. The small forests shielded the ship from the sun, so that it always had a comfortable temperature in the ship. At least that was something nice about your current location.

Another nice thing was there was a river which’s stream led behind the big city walls. On some particular hot days, you used the water there to cool down your body. You watched how the water disappeared as soon as it reached the high built bricks that were put there to shield the town and the people there from any kind of intruders.  

You couldn't see much of the city because the ship was stationed some miles away from it. You guessed it was old, from the way the walls looked. In all your days here you never saw a person leaving or entering through the massive wooden doors. It made you wonder if the town was really so big to have everything they needed, so no one ever had to leave this place.

Tearing your eyes away from the mysterious town in front of you, you looked into the sky. Only a few more hours before the sun would start to set and you would have another silent night all by yourself.

If you were on Tatooine you would have spent time with Fennec during your sleepless nights, her never seeming to sleep much as well. But no, you were here. And you were bored to death. There wasn't even anything to read on Boba’s ship, so you had no other option other than to sit around and  keep staring holes into the air.

Right when you were about to get lost in some thoughts again, your datapad received a message from your absent partner. Your back straightened and you leaned forward to read it.

“We will leave soon, only one or two more days.

They invited you for dinner tonight as well,

you also get a proper quarter to sleep in.

Be here before the sun sets.

Take the ship with you, there is a place near the palace

where you can land it. Be careful.”

You almost started crying at the thought of a real bed and real food waiting for you. “Thank the Maker.”, you mumbled to yourself before you checked that everything on the ship was secured so nothing would break during your flight. It didn't take long for you to start the ship and fly directly in the direction of the big castle-like building.

Only five minutes later you landed the ship near the palace and some people were already coming out of the ancient building. You grabbed your blaster before leaving the ship and walked towards the other people. They greeted you by bowing in front of you. Eyebrows lifted in surprise, you looked back down at them.

There was an older man with brown skin and dark hair, some strands already whitening. His mouth was almost hidden by a big, long beard that went down to his throat, but you were able to make out a small smile on his lips. He wore a purple robe, so long that the end of it was covering the ground behind him. Some golden chains covered his chest and he wore rings on almost every finger.

He was in the company of four young women, covered in light yellow cloaks. You were able to see their faces, all of them smiling at you. Each one seemingly more beautiful than the others. Now you could understand why Boba spent so much time here.

“You must be the partner of the great Boba Fett.” The man in front of you began speaking, “We are glad to have you here. All our guests get only the best. We’ve prepared your quarters for the night and one of my maids will show you the way so you can refresh yourself before dinner.”

The old man pointed at a young woman with curly hair, who was smiling at you.

“Thank you, that's really nice.” was all you could say in your current state of surprise.

“Nothing to thank us for. We made a really good deal with your partner so it is a pleasure for us to have you here.” The man nodded slowly and you gave him a weak smile. These people were way too friendly to make a deal with Boba. You hoped he would explain this to you when you see him.

“Follow me, I will show you your room.” The young woman said and waved her hand for you to follow her.

The palace was gigantic. Many statues and old art were all over the place. The statues were made out of white stone, portraying people you didn't know, probably warriors. Strong bodies, perfectly chiseled into different kinds of material, telling a story you've never heard before. Paintings covered the high walls, showing many faces. Some of them looked like normal citizens like farmers, children, or the whole families portraits. Others picturing royals, queens and kings, princes and princesses.

The two of you walked through an uncountable amount of rooms and corridors. And after almost ten minutes of walking the woman turned around, looking at you. She opened the doors on your left and your eyes widened in shock. The room they prepared for you was bigger than any house you had ever lived in. It was filled with old furniture, a gigantic bed, a big balcony and a probably enormous bathroom behind a closed door. The maid walked into the room with you being directly behind her. She went over to a large closet and opened it to reveal that it was full of beautiful clothes made out of the best material in the galaxy. One of your hands rose to touch the silky fabric of one of the dresses.

“These are for you to wear. We asked your partner for your size and I hope there is something that fits in here. If not, feel free to tell me and we will get you something else.” You slowly nodded while looking through the amount of different clothes. “The King wants you to wear anything you feel comfortable in but would be happy if you would wear something more festive for dinner.” You looked over to her and she smiled at you again.

“Dinner will be ready in about two hours. Feel free to use the bathroom and clean yourself up.” She slowly made her way to the door, “And if you need anything, please let me know and we will be happy to help you.”

“Thank you.” was all you could say before she left the room.

Now being on your own, you slowly walked through the chambers, trying to take in every detail. The walls were a light rosé and sky blue curtains hung beside the windows. All the furniture was made out of dark wood. A small glass table stood in the corner of the room with some books on top. The bed was covered in white sheets and pillows and was large enough to allow 4 people, maybe even more, to sleep comfortably.

You walked out onto the balcony and gasped. You had a great view over the whole city. It wasn't the biggest you have ever seen, but definitely one of the most beautiful ones. Everything looked more like a big garden than a place where people lived. Old, small houses were blooming like mushrooms between a field of grass. Many fields covered the space underneath the palace.

People stood in front of their houses, talking to each other. Children were playing hide and seek, laughing so loud even you could hear it. The lights were turned on in almost every house and you could see some farmers bringing the harvest they collected over the day into the warmth of their homes. This place was really beautiful.

And now, as the sun slowly started to set, it looked even more aesthetically pleasing. You looked down into the court of the palace and saw Boba. He was taking a walk with the man you talked to when you arrived. Hopefully he would tell you what this was all about as soon as you had some alone time with him.

After standing and watching the city for some more moments, you went back inside and into the bathroom. Just as you thought it was just as big as everything else. Covered in white tiles, a marble bathtub, a shower beside and a big sink with a mirror and any kind of makeup you could think of. You never really used something like this, but maybe tonight was a good night to try it.

You stripped out of your dirty clothes and quickly got into the shower. The warm water ran down your body and you couldn't help yourself but moan at the relaxing feeling. After cleaning yourself completely, you just had to stay under the warm water for just a bit longer.When you finally had enough, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. With one hand you grabbed one of the soft towels, wrapping it around your body.

Entering the bedroom once more you walked over to the big closet and searched through it. You opened one of the drawers, instantly moving back in surprise. It was full of some of the most expensive and beautiful lingerie you have ever seen. Did Boba tell them to get those for you? Curiously you looked through them, soon realizing that all of them were exactly your size. How could he know what size you wore? But before you were able to think much further, your eyes caught a glimpse of a beautiful, dark green lace set.

You pulled it out of the drawer, taking the time to really look over it. It was gorgeous. Without thinking too much, you dried your body and tried on the underwear. You weren't insecure about your body or anything, but you were still afraid that it might not look as good as you imagined. With small steps you walked in front of the big mirror beside the closet and looked at your figure. Holy shit. You looked fucking hot. The bra fitted perfectly around your breasts and you were able to see through it a little bit. The panties wrapped themselves around your ass without covering too much. You were speechless. How could've Boba guessed your size so perfectly?

Before putting on more clothes you went back into the bathroom to do your hair and make up. And while doing that your thoughts started to wander.

You always had a thing for Boba. From the day you agreed to work with him to this current moment. The both of you met while searching for a bounty. He got attacked by several men at the same time and you hopped in to help him. He was impressed, to say at least. You joked about saving his life and how he would owe you something.

The bounty hunter was almost speechless at that moment. You weren't afraid of him. You knew who he was, but you weren't afraid, not in the slightest. He was almost sure he could like you until it turned out that both of you were going after the same bounty. Boba tried to tell you that you had no right to go after this man and that he would kill you if you still tried to, but the only thing you said was:”Are you afraid of losing, old man?”

And that is how it started. You were able to catch the first bounty. Boba was angry about it, but he would never tell that he was almost as much impressed by your fighting and hunting skills. Those games continued for weeks. Every time you met each other on a planet, searching for a bounty, you made a contest out of it.

He would never admit it, but he loved it. He loved to see you getting lost in your hunting instincts and trying to get whoever you were looking for. He loved seeing you fight, you were much stronger than you looked. But mostly he loved to see your euphoric smile when you showed him the bounty you just caught. Of course he would never admit that to you, but he loved spending this time with you.

But things got more stressful on Tatooine and he had to stay there for a certain amount of time, dealing with his business. You two didn't see each other anymore and it drove both of you crazy. You listened to every conversation about Boba to find out where he was right now, secretly hoping to see him again as soon as possible.

Until one day, you received a message from the King of the Underworld himself. He said that he would need more good bounty hunters in his palace and offered you a job at his side. Obviously, you couldn't say no, so the next day you made your way to the palace to start working with him and his right hand Fennec.

The three of you got along pretty well and work seemed to be as easy as never before. The only thing disturbing the good climate you had in the palace was the never ending tension between you and Boba. You didn't know what exactly the reason was for this undeniable tension, but it drove you mad. You were attracted to him, there was no point in denying that. But you also knew that he saw you as a coworker, maybe a friend. There were other things going through his head than what was going on between the two of you. You were also sure that you just imagined all the small hints which could possibly be a sign for him returning your feelings.

Until Fennec decided to confront you. She asked you why you didn't already tell him, that it was already really obvious. You didn't know what to say and tried to deny your feelings. The only reaction she showed to your very bad lie was a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I can't wait until you both realize that each of you returns the feelings for the other one.” was the last thing she said before she walked away and it still haunted you to this day.

Your eyes were glued to the mirror in front of you while you were trying to do your eyeliner. Finally finished, you looked at yourself. Even though you didn't use makeup on a regular basis, it looked really good. Happy with your hair and makeup, you went back to the closet.

Your eyes scanned every single piece of clothing in there. What would be something acceptable to wear while having dinner with a King? One of the dresses caught your eye, but before you were able to pull it out of the closet the door to your room got opened.

Eyes widened in shock, you looked at Boba who stood in the doorway. You couldn't see it but his eyes scanned your almost naked body. He didn't even realize it but his breathing stopped as soon as he saw you. You looked absolutely stunning. Only when his eyes met yours through his visor, he realized that he was staring at you. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned around, trying to get his breathing under control.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to see if everything is alright and tell you that dinner is ready in about half an hour.” he spoke with a raspy voice.

“Okay, alright. I will be there.” You looked at his back while speaking.

Without another word Boba went out of the room and closed the door behind him. He walked down the corridor with large steps. The picture of you, just standing there in the probably hottest set of lingerie he ever saw, was burned into his mind. They asked him for your size, yes, but he never thought they would pick out something like this for you. Maker, he needed to cool down.

Entering his room, he sat down on the white sheets of his bed. Seeing you like this was completely new for him and he couldn't deny the fact that his trousers got tighter when he had scanned the length of your body. He knew you for a good amount of time now, but most of the time he had enough self-control to not imagine you in this certain kind of way. But this time, he couldn't help himself.

Pictures of your body laying underneath him flooded his mind. He wondered if the sounds you made were just as beautiful as you? Would your lips feel as soft as they look? Would you taste like- Kriff. His eyes snapped open and he let out a deep sigh. At this point, he was rock hard just by thinking of you. He needed to stop.

He knew that someone as beautiful as you and also younger than him would never share the same feelings as him. You were able to have any person you wanted, why would you choose him? He thought back when you first arrived at his palace.

The way the people eyed you. Hundreds of hungry eyes stared at you. He still remembered how glad he was that he wore his helmet, so no one could see his jealous expression. Only when you walked up to him and started talking to him, the people stopped staring at you. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to pull you onto his lap and show everyone that you belonged to him and if anyone dared to lay a hand on you, they would have to deal with Boba himself.

But you weren't his. You belonged to no one, you told him more than once. And he understood what you meant by saying this and he respected you, more than anyone else. But he still found himself alone at night, wishing you were by his side.

A knock on the door ripped him out of his daydreams.

“I just wanted to tell you that food is ready in five minutes.” A voice said through the door. After that it got silent again. Trying to get you out of his head he stood up and made his way into the dining hall. This is going to be a long night.

You stood in silence for a minute after Boba left your room. You noticed his staring, but you weren't sure if it was just because you were in your underwear or if he really thought you were attractive.

Thinking about it for a second, you decided to try your luck today. If it turned out that he wasn't interested, you could finally live in peace again. But if he was, then you were going to have a very good night.

The bounty hunter was  already sitting at the table when you entered the large dinner room. You saw how his helmet turned in your direction but you couldn't see any reaction from his side. And again, Boba was very happy to wear that stupid helmet. You looked stunning. Your body was covered by a silky black dress with thin straps. It went down to your legs and hugged all your curves perfectly. He swallowed hard, almost sure everyone could hear it.

With a nervous look, you settled down in the seat beside him. You looked at his black visor and he nodded slightly. Before you could say anything the King, as you learned for the maid, stood up and began to speak.

“Tonight we want to honor our guests, the great Boba Fett and his beautiful partner. Our kingdom was able to make a deal from which we all are going to profit from and which will keep us all safe.” He raised his glass in your direction. “We hope you enjoy your meal and now, let the festivities begin.”

He brought his glass to his lips and drank one sip, before everyone else joined in.

Two big doors swung open and the staff brought in the food. You almost couldn't believe your eyes. So many different kinds of food, mostly things you didn't even know. Your stomach started rumbling at the sight of all the different courses. With wide eyes, you looked at Boba once more. He didn't notice because he was in the middle of taking off his helmet. You were about to stop him, but it was already too late. He never let his enemies or business partners see his face, but by the reaction of the other people in this room it wasn't the first time they saw him. He turned his face to you and mustered you with a confused look.

“What's the matter?” His eyes fixed on yours while he was trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“Nothing. Don’t worry.” You shook your head slightly.

Bringing your eyes back to the food in front of you, you couldn't stop yourself from starting to eat. So many different vegetables and fruits. All the different variations and sauces. You moaned when the first piece of food found its way into your mouth. This was the best feeling you've ever experienced.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Boba watched you and a small smile tugged at his lips as he saw your satisfied expression when you finally started eating.

Without even trying to hold back you ate as much food as you could. Each dish was better than the other and you were almost overwhelmed at all the different choices.

You were still eating even after all the others finished their meal, but you didn't care. You had no good food in weeks and to be completely honest, the food on Tatooine wasn't the best either.

Shoving the last piece of food into your mouth you fell back into your seat, holding your tummy. You were stuffed, to say the least.

“Finished already? Don't you want to lick the plates of all the others clean too?” Boba smirked at your exhausted figure, bringing his glass to his lips.

You gave him a playful annoyed look, but couldn't hold back your laugh. The corners of his mouth raised around the glass.

Before you were able to reply something the other man beside you started talking to you. You were so caught up in getting food inside your stomach that you didn't even talk to anyone in here. So you gladly interacted in the conversation the other man tried to build up.

Turns out this planet was one of the only ones which stayed completely out of the war that happened some years ago; which was impressive because almost no planet was able to stay out of those kinds of politics. But this was the reason why everything here was so old. They never had to rebuild anything because nothing ever got destroyed. Maybe by accident on occasion but never due to war. The people who lived here had one of the oldest environmental systems in the galaxy, which is the reason why you didn't recognize most of the food. It's local and you are not able to get it on any different planets. You wondered if Boba made a deal about some kind of spices, but he was more than a spice smuggler. That would make no sense.

Suddenly, in the middle of the conversation, someone came up behind you and sat a new plate in front of you. On it was a fruit, you also didn't recognize. It had thick skin and was bright yellow. You looked around and saw that Boba and you were the only one with this kind of food on their plates. With a confused look you turned your head to him but he just shrugged his shoulders, signaling you that he also had no idea what kind of fruit that was.

“We decided to give you some of our rarest food on the planet. It is hard to grow and actually is the only fruit we sometimes sell to other planets. But after everything you will be doing for us, I think you deserve to get a taste.”, the King spoke and looked at the two of you. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination but all the other people in the room looked at you with a smirk on their face. As if they knew something you didn't.

There was no room left in your stomach, you were full. But after everything the man said, you didn't want to be rude, so you took your fork and tried a small piece of the yellow food in front of you.

Before you even started chewing it, you tasted how sweet it was. Too sweet. You grimaced at the overwhelming taste. It was like nothing you ever tasted before. It gave your tongue a tingling sensation but also made it numb at the same time. The juice that squished out of it when you bit it, immediately ran down your throat. You desperately tried to hold back a cough. With one big gulp, you swallowed the piece of fruit and laid your fork back down.

Side-eyeing Boba, you saw that he wasn't impressed by the taste either. Just now you realized that all eyes in the room were laid on the two of you, waiting for your reaction.

“It-” You began, clearing your raspy voice before continuing, “It tastes delicious, really. Amazing, different taste.” It was a lie and anyone smart enough would have realized but it seemed like the people didn't notice. They started smiling, bringing their attention to their own desserts.

Boba looked at you in a way that said 'You are a terrible liar.', but you didn't care as long as everyone was happy.

“I'm very glad to hear that and now eat up. We wouldn't want to waste anything of this delicate fruit.” You sent a death look into the direction of the king, but your partner nudged your side with his elbow.

“Eat up. You don't want to be rude, do you?” Your death glare wandered directly to Boba and he smirked at you. Cocky bastard.

With a disgusted look on your face you took the fork again and started eating the fruit.

Soon it was much later in the evening but you didn't notice the passage of time because you were actually having some nice conversations with the people from the city. You talked about the wars, the way this planet stayed out of them, the story of how you became a bounty hunter and joined Boba.

Your eyes wandered into the direction of said bounty hunter more than once that night. Sure, he wasn't someone to talk much, especially about his feelings, but you couldn't deny the feeling of disappointment that he didn't even acknowledge the way you looked tonight. The small amount of hope in you wasn't strong, but it was surely gone by now. Forcing your eyes away from him, you started listening to the story one of the women in front of you was currently telling.

Boba didn't feel well. It wasn't the amount of strangers around him or the fact that he probably ate too much, no. It was the fact that you turned heads in this room. From more than just one or two people.

But well, he couldn't blame them. Your body looked like art in the dress you were wearing. He asked himself what the reason was, for your choice of looks tonight. Did you want to impress someone? Boba knew you had your fair amount of affairs. It had been revealed after you two along with Fennec drank too much spotchka one night and talked about your sex lives. He still didn't know how that happened.

Anyway, even though he knew you weren't his, he tried to keep everyone away from you that showed just the slightest bit of interest in you. He knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't stand the thought of someone else touching you. Was this the reason you were dressed like this? Did you want to hook up with someone from the palace?

He shook his head. He had no reason to think about your intimate relationships with others; he had no right to judge or decide over your choices. But the more he let his mind wander, more thoughts of you popped up in his head. And one of the thoughts was the picture of you in your underwear. Again.

Suddenly, he felt hot. Not in the way he felt when he was angry or embarrassed, but actually hot. So hot that he started sweating. He looked around to find a reason why the temperature suddenly had changed in here but it seemed like no one else noticed. He tried to adjust himself in the chair. It felt like his armor got two sizes smaller and he wasn't able to breathe. Different parts of his body began to tingle and he was sure he would pass out. His body quickly raised from his seat, to get out of the room but the second he stood, he couldn’t move due to the feeling of dizziness that held him. Boba stood there for a second before he made his way out of the dinner hall.

Your eyes fell on his quickly moving body and the way the look on his face seemed alarmed. Something told you to follow him. Without excusing yourself, you left your seat and made your way up to him. Before he was able to leave the room, you reached for his arm and stopped him. He turned to you, his eyes wide in shock.

“Boba, are you alright? You look terrible.” The look on your face was concerned and you glanced at him through your lashes. He stared at you, not without noticing how his eyes started to wander over your body.

“I- umm...” He stopped his rambling when he felt a painful sting in his lower belly, his erection forming in his pants. What was wrong with him?

“Kriff.” was all he said, looking around to see if anyone was staring at the two of you. Luckily no one seemed to care about the fact that the two of you were standing away from the table.

Without thinking, Boba grabbed your waist and pulled you a little closer to him. You were so surprised. You couldn't think of anything to say. He lowered his head so his mouth was directly at your ear.

“We are leaving tomorrow morning, be ready. I'm going to bed now and you should too, Princess.” Not a second later, he released his grip on you and was gone.

Princess. The word rang through your ears. It was almost as if you could still feel his hands on you. A shiver ran down your shine when you thought about his breath hitting your sweaty neck. Lost in your thoughts you still looked at the door he left through.

A sharp pain in your stomach shook you out of your trance. You flinched at the feeling, wondering what that was. But a moment later, you felt a burning heat in your core and the feeling spread through your whole body. You grew even hotter than before. Maybe Boba was right. You should go to bed.

It was harder than you thought to find your way back to your quarters. The fact that your legs got weaker with every step and the slightly dizzy feeling in your head wasn't helping either. You stumbled through the corridors, hoping to soon find your stupid room. Who needs a palace that big anyway?

After some more minutes, you were sure you finally arrived. About to open the door to your room, you heard a strange sound coming from a chamber down the hall. You stayed still, to see if it wasn't just your head trying to trick you.

“Dank Farrik!”

Even though your whole body was aching at this point, you followed the sound. A loud groan came out of one room and you realized it was Boba. A little bit faster than before, or at least as fast as you were able to go, you went to the door the sound was coming from. Your mind clouded from the heat and pain taking over your body as you knocked.

“Boba?” Your voice was weak and raspy as if you had been screaming for hours straight. Nothing happened, so you tried again. “Are you alright? I heard some noise-”, a sore, deep voice cut you of.

“I'm... I'm alright.” A sore, deep voice cut you off. On the other side of the door, the man struggled to speak. His throat felt so dry as if he had wandered through the dunes of Tatooine for days without a single drop of water. Every part of his body arched and he panted, not being able to breath properly.

When he entered his room some moments ago, he got rid of his armor, tossing it carelessly onto the floor and falling down onto the bed. He didn't feel dizzy anymore but there was pain, almost as bad as in the sarlacc, flowing through his body and especially into his abandonment. He was hard, harder than ever before and it hurt. Scared of touching himself, of making the pain even worse, he just kept laying there, hoping that the pain would go away. No luck yet.

There was a white noise in your ears and you almost didn't hear what he said. His voice sounded so breathy; you were afraid he was hurt. You tried to steady yourself by holding on to the doorknob. You felt like you were about to pass out, but you still wanted to make sure that everything was alright.

“Are you s... sure? It doesn't sound like it.” It almost hurt to speak.

You heard a terrifying growl from the other side of the door.

“Fucking hell. I'm doing fine and now go to bed.” Boba shouted.

Too dizzy to be shocked or to show any reaction towards his tone you slowly made your way back to your quarters. Barely able to find the strength to push the door open, you almost fell into the room. The pain got even worse and couldn't hold your body up any longer. You felt your legs carry you across the room so you could collapse on the bed, groaning loudly as your body landed on the mattress. Your mind wasn’t able to form any kind of rational thought. The only thing you were aware of was the pain in your body and the growing wetness between your legs.

You had no idea what was going on, only realizing that you started to become incredibly needy. With all the force you could muster in the moment, you rubbed your thighs together to create even the smallest amount of friction. You almost started cringing when you felt how just wet you were. Maker, what was wrong with you?

The pressure from your thighs wasn't enough. Your panties were already soaked, even without anyone touching you. Slowly, you let one of your hands go between your legs. Your body jumped at the first light touch and an obscene moan left your mouth. Holding your other hand over your mouth, you carefully started to touch yourself.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on giving yourself some kind of pressure pleasure, but it didn't work. The pain was still there and it seemed like it wasn't about to leave any time soon. Starting to move your hand faster, to find your way to the desperately needed climax, you heard the sound of your wet cunt.

You’ve never been this wet. Especially without anyone touching you. Your thoughts drifted to Boba. Him calling you princess surely couldn't be the reason for the mess between your legs. You wanted to fuck him, but you weren't that affection starved. Or were you?

Thinking about your partner brought you closer to your own orgasm. Two of your fingers circled around your clit and started to become sloppy as you grew closer to your release. Your eyes stayed shut, trying to imagine something that would help you. You thought of Boba, sitting on his throne, legs wide and taking every inch of space in the big seat. The way he looked so dangerous, just by doing nothing then looking around the room. How often you thought about riding him in that position. You on top of him, his large hands on your hips. You would be completely naked for him while he still wore his armor, feeling the cold beskar against your heated skin. His body would tense underneath yours while he pounded into you, calling you his good girl.

You were so close, you could feel the familiar heat rising. Just one or two more seconds.

“Hey. Are you here? Can you hear me?” Your hand moved from your core as fast as possible. Shooting your eyes into the direction of the door, but it was still closed. A groan left your mouth. You were so close and the pain was still so present in your body, you were probably imagining things.

Just as you were about to continue, the voice rang through the room again. You tried to sit up, looking around, searching for the reason you were able to hear him.

“Are you mad at me? Dank- I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you.” Boba sounded like he was out of breath. Your eyes landed on the pile of clothes on the floor. Sure, your comlink. On shaky legs, you walked to your old clothes and took the small speaker from your belt.

You were afraid to say something. Did he hear you? You were embarrassed. He was your coworker and you just almost had an orgasm while thinking about him.

“Boba.” The only thing leaving your mouth, in a breathless voice, was his name. You weren't able to say more, afraid that he might sense what you just did.

The man in the other room was still laying on his bed. He didn't trust himself to stand up. His heavy breathing was the only sound around him. His fist clenched around the comlink, after he heard you speaking. Your voice sounded just as weak as his, you must feel the same reaction as he did.

Boba has been to a lot of planets and different cities, but this feeling was new to him. He knew what the cause for this was, probably. The fruit contained a certain type of pollen. He heard about them, about the stuff they do to the ones eating it. It was almost like an aphrodisiac, people would get desperate for any kind of sexual interaction, just to make the pain go away. And he also knew that the pain would fade much faster, if you would do something about it and even better, not by yourself.

The sound of you whispering his name through the speaker made his hips twitch. He would never act on the feelings he had right now, especially not with you. You were too important to him and he would never forgive himself if he lost you due to his needy brain and body. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. The fact that you felt the same exact pain he did in this moment, made it even worse.

“Are you... are you alright?” Your quiet voice cut through his thoughts. Maker, why did your voice have to sound so fucking desperate? He shuts his eyes close, trying to stay focused.

“Yes, I think so. What about you?”

“No. No, I think something is wrong with me.” Boba's eyes snapped open again when he heard you were crying. “I- I don't know why, but everything hurts. Kriff, it hurts so bad Boba. I don't know what to do.” By now your voice was almost unrecognizable, it was shaky and blurred from your crying.

The heart of the bounty hunter sank deep in his chest. He didn't want you to go through this. “Okay, try to calm down. You got this, try to ignore it.” He almost laughed at himself. There was no way to ignore it and he knew that.

“Are you kidding me? Try to ignore it? Boba, it feels like my whole body is on fire, I can't just pretend I don't feel that shit.” There was a hint of annoyance in your voice and he couldn't blame you. He was better at controlling his body in general and it was still hell for him. He couldn't even imagine how you felt. “You know what, I'm coming over, right now.”

“No!” He screamed the word into the communicator in his hand. With all his strength, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. There was no way he would spend this time with you. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if you were with him.

“Boba, what the he-”

“I know what might help you.” His tone was low and calm, trying not to cross a line with what he was about to say.  “You need to touch yourself.”

Your mouth fell open. Did... did he really just say that? You stayed silent, not knowing what to say. That was what you were already doing, touching yourself, but hearing him saying those words sent goosebumps all over your body.

“Before you start to protest, yes I know it sounds strange, but believe me, it will help you.” A moment of silence fell above you before he started to speak again. “Please. I don't want you to be in this terrible pain. Do... do it for me, please.”

You weren't able to stop the whine that left you after hearing his words. It was too much; this whole situation was too much for you. Your body was aching and you knew that your hands would never be able to sooth the pain and growing heat between your legs.

“Boba, I-” He cuts you off once again.

“S- stop saying my name like that, please. I will not be able to control myself if you keep doing that.” You felt even more heat rising in your body at his words. “Just... just try to do what I just told you.”

Without letting go of the comlink, you sneaked your hand under your dress once again and into your wet folds. You moaned at the feeling. There was a hiss, coming out of the speaker and you heard the man on the other end swearing.

“That's it. Just keep doing that.” Boba wasn't able to hold it back anymore, freeing his painful hard cock from his pants. It snapped up against his tummy and he threw his head back when the cold air hit his aching member.

“Boba.” This time you moaned his name on purpose and he really had to hold himself back from cumming right there and then, “I- I can't do this on my own, please.”

At this point you didn't care how desperate you sounded or if he could hear the sounds you were making. You needed something. You needed him.

The man heard you, very well, and it drove him crazy. He put his hand around his cock, slowly starting to pump it. It didn't feel good. He didn't like to masturbate in general, but with this burning need inside him and hearing you, touching yourself, it felt even worse. The urge to touch you has never been this strong, but he needed to keep it together. You only did that because you felt the pain this fruit caused, not because you were genuinely attracted to him.

Your fingers circled your clit, but it didn't feel like it was enough. Silent tears were still streaming down your face because you couldn't build up the friction you really needed. You whined in frustration.

Boba was sure he wouldn't last long if you kept making those sounds. Maker, what would he give to see you right now. Disheveled hair, your makeup probably all over your face, your hand between your legs and eyes closed. He was sure you looked like a goddess.

“Please, Boba. I need-” He had to stop you. He couldn't listen to you with that sweet, sweet voice of yours any longer.

“Alright, okay. Just do what I tell you.” The bounty hunter didn't believe what he was about to do. He has wanted you for so long and even though you weren't with him right now, he would savor every second of this.

“Just... umm...” He stopped himself and rasped his voice. He never had a problem with being talkative during sex. He actually really liked it but with you and especially in this situation, it felt different. “Bring your middle finger and your pointing finger to your clit and start rubbing it in circles. Not too fast, to build up some good pressure.” His grip around his cock tightened at the picture of you in his head.

You did as he told you and moaned, more at the words he spoke than to the actual feeling of pleasure. Never in your life have you been this turned on, not only because of the strange feeling in your body but also by the way Boba guided you through this. You could already feel the familiar heat growing in your lower stomach again. It wouldn't take long for you to finish.

He needed a moment to breath before he continued. Your moaning and whining made his dick twitch in his hand. His thumb collected the precum that already leaked and used it to start stroking himself again.

“Now use those two fingers, slide them inside of you and start fucking yourself.” His mind was clouded with pictures of you. The sounds you made rang in his ears and he wasn't able to hold his grunting back anymore.

The two of you listened to each other, touching yourselves. Both of you would lie if they said that this wasn't the hottest thing you’ve ever done. Feelings aside, the urge to feel one another and touch each other was so present and burning as never before, it was almost worse than the actual pain in your bodies.

Your back arched as you felt yourself getting close again, but you needed to hear his voice one more time. “Boba, I'm- I'm so close... I-” He was too and your words almost sent him over the edge, but he wanted to help you reach your climax first.

“It's alright, Princess. Just l- let go.” The hand around his cock sped up. His rapid pace was almost hurtful. “Imagine it’s someone else doing that to you. Imagine your fingers are someone else's, someone you wish was touching you right now.”

An incredibly loud sound left your mouth and you began to see stars. Your legs started to twitch and shake, while a loud white noise flooded your ears. Without thinking you started to scream. “You. Fuck, I wish it was you who was touching me right now, Boba.” You cummed hard. Your toes curled, your head pressing into the mattress underneath you. The hand inside of you stopped moving and started shaking, like every other part of your body.

As you laid there panting, you slowly came back to your senses. It was silent, but the pain in your body was still as present as before your orgasm. You groaned in frustration.

“It didn't help. Fuck, Boba. The pain is still there.” You whined but there was no reaction. The other side of the comlink was completely silent. Tears build themselves up and were about to escape your already burning eyes. You fucked up. You just told him you wished he would touch you.

“Shit!” You screamed and pressed your hands flat over your face. The tears started to stream down your face faster now as you started crying again. The pain and the embarrassment took over your brain, you never wanted to see him again. He would fire you, bring you back to the planet you came from and leave you there. You started sobbing and removed the hands from your face to place one of them over your mouth to muffle your pitiful cries.

You hated yourself right now. So much so that you would rather stay in this room forever than ever have to see his face again. The moment repeated itself in your head over and over again. You didn't notice when he broke the connection, but you knew that he probably did it after the last sentence you said.

New tears formed in the corner of your eyes, but before they were able to make their way down your face the door to your room got pushed open. Your head turned to the person standing in the doorway. It was Boba, wearing nothing but his black flight suit he always wore underneath his armor. You brought up your head and steadied yourself on your elbows.

“What are you-” The man was in front of you in a matter of seconds, looking down at your weak form. You slowly sat up and stared into his dark eyes.

“Was that what you said the truth?” His voice was even deeper in person. He looked exhausted, breathing unsteadily and sweating all over his face.

“Boba, I... I don't know-” One of his hands grabbed your chin roughly and tilted your head in his direction. Your heartbeat was going faster than before. It was hammering hard against your chest. You could feel it in every part of your body.

“Just tell me if you meant what you just said, or not. Because if you did, I will help you. I- I will touch you, just the way you need it, little one.” His eyes pierced into yours. His voice sounded calm but you could see that he was just as worked up as you. “And if not, I will leave you alone. I don't want you to feel pressured to do anything you don't want to do.”

It was almost as if you forgot how to breath. His words rang through your ears and for a second you believed you passed out and all of this was a dream. But the grip around your chin proved you wrong.

“I asked you a question.” He said in a more aggressive tone. The hand on your face tugged you slightly forward and only now you became aware of his hard erection, pressing against his pants. You swallowed loudly, looking back up into his eyes. A small smirk played around his lips.

“Like what you see?” The smirk on his face grew even wider when he saw your head nodding.

“Now tell me,” He brought his body down to yours to look directly into your face, “Do you want me to touch you? Do you want me to help you get rid of the pain?”

He paused for a second and brought his face closer to yours so both of your noses were touching.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Your breathing hitched in your lungs and you felt a hot sting going through your body, going straight to your cunt. Boba drew his face away from you, just a little bit, but you already wanted to protest. Your hands rose up and grabbed his broad shoulders.

“Yes.” It was nothing more than a silent breath but the words rang in his ears as if you screamed them. “Yes, I want you to touch me and make me feel good, I- Fuck, Boba. I want you so bad.”

Without wasting another second he crushed his lips onto yours and started kissing you. The kiss was heated, fast and passionate. Teeth clenched against teeth and tongues tried their best to taste the other person. His lips were softer than you expected, they were warm and inviting. A tingling feeling made its way to your chest and you realized you never wanted this to stop.

You felt like you were in heaven and even forgot about the pain for a second, but not for long. Boba's hands were holding your face, brought it even closer to his while you did the same with your hands around his neck.

His mouth pulled away from yours as he began to wander and kiss his way down your throat. He let both of his hands slide down your body, over your breasts until he rested them at your waist. Your body arched into his touch and a whimper escaped you. The man's lips twitched into a smile, feeling proud about the reaction of your body against his touches.

With one hand on your back, he slowly started to lay you down on the bed. His body was now hovering over you and you could feel the strong heat radiating from him. Every kiss he left on your bare skin was like a small flame burning its way into your mind.

When his lips reached your cleavage he stopped and looked up to you. You looked so beautiful, a sweating, panting mess underneath him. That's everything he ever dreamed of, maybe even more.

Both of his hands ran patiently down your sides until he got to your thighs. He reached for the hem of your dress and pulled it up a little bit. His hot mouth went down your clothed body, not once breaking the eye contact.

You shivered at the sight in front of you. Every part of you felt like it was electrified and you were sure you would explode if he wouldn't start properly touching you soon.

Boba went onto his knees in front of the bed, now pulling up your dress so that the hem of it lay just above your panties. His eyes fell to the soaked green material that still covered your heat.

“Look at you. If it wasn't for the fucking fruit, I would say that you are pretty desperate for me, little one.” A wide smirk covered his face and even more heat rose into yours.

“What has the fruit to do with-” But you were cut off by the feeling of one of his thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds. Your mouth fell open in a breathless moan and your head pushed back into the white covers. Only when you heard the man in front of you humming your head came back up only to see that the finger, which was between your legs just seconds ago, was now in his mouth. His eyes found yours while he licked his finger clean, pulling it back out with a small popping sound.

“You taste fucking delicious. Better than any food anyone’s ever served me.” He smiled at you. “Even better than I've imagined.”

Your eyes widened at his words. He imagined the way you tasted? The man in front of you was about to pull down your panties, but you stopped him. He looked at you with a confused expression.

“What do you mean with 'you imagined'? Have you thought about this before? About us?” The pain was buzzing through your body, but you needed to know.

His expression softened and a small smile appeared on his face. He planted a soft kiss on your knee before talking.

“Princess, are you serious? I've dreamed about this for so long, to finally have you. To feel, taste and hear you, everything. But right now,” His lips made their way up on your inner thigh, “is not the time to talk about this. Let me soothe your pain and afterwards, we can talk about everything. I promise. Right now, I just want to taste you.”

He reached your clothed cunt and pressed a kiss on to it. His fingers reached up to the waistband of your panties. Your legs were already shaking from watching him move. You were about to tell him not to tease you when a knock on the door cut through the thick tension hanging between the both of you.

A sigh left your lungs and you fell back into the sheets underneath you. This couldn't be real. You whined, tears swelling up in your eyes again.

Boba noticed and started rubbing his hands up and down your legs. “Hey, hey. Calm down. We don't have to answer.”

It stayed silent for a while, a relieved feeling washed over your body. Boba started kissing your inner thighs again and just before he reached the spot where you needed him the most, the knock disturbed you once again.

“Kriffing hell.” The bounty hunter muttered to himself and got up. With large steps he went to the door and opened it just enough so the other person could see his face.

It was one of the maids. She looked at Boba with an apologizing look.

“I'm sorry to disturb you but our communication system received a call from your palace on Tatooine. There is a woman, called Fennec Shand and she wants to talk to you. She didn't say what it was about but she said it is urgent.”

He wanted to scream, wanted to tear down the whole palace. No, not now. His head turned into your direction. You looked at him with dove eyes, still shimmering from your previous tears. He couldn't do that now, both of you still in the middle of the reaction from this fruit. He was in pain too, but he knew it was worse for you. Turning his head he looked back at the maid.

“The woman is waiting for you.” Boba sighed. He knew it was wrong but he needed to know what Fennec thought was so urgent.

“Give me a second, I will be right there.”, he said before closing the door.

The man turned around and looked at you once more. He didn't want to go. His deepest desire, finally so close to him and his duty as the King of the Underworld keeping him away from reaching it.

“I have to go.”

“What?” Your body shot up from it's laying spot in the bed. A hand reached out to him and clutched at his sleeve. “No. No, please. You can't leave me now.”  

“I have to, but it won't take long, I promise.” Boba gabbed the back of your head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He was about to turn around, but you still didn't let go of him.

“Boba, stop. Please I- it still hurts. I can't take this anymore.” He looked at you, bringing his hand to your cheek.

“You can do it and while I'm gone you’re going to touch yourself again, you hear me? Prepare your pretty, little cunt for me and when I come back, I will give you everything you need.” Not waiting for another response from you, he freed his arm from your grip and walked out of the room.

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Armitage Hux x Female Reader

A/N: Set in my Echoes of the Heart universe I went back in time and wrote a little moment between Armitage and Reader before their arranged wedding. For Writer Wednesday @autumnleaves1991-blog @clydesducktape

Warnings: Mention of arranged marriage, nothing else I can see.

Word Count: 1503

The house seemed empty, you knew better though. Candles lit the dark wood hallways, casting a warmth that was not felt, flickering long shadows on the walls making the hallway have a life of its own. Your feet were bare, feeling the plush carpet beneath your toes as you padded to your favourite room on the Hux estate, your black nightgown fluttering with your movement. You took a candle off the wall and gently pushed open the large dark wood door, it creaked and you paused for a moment before slipping inside.

Rain pounded on the window, rivers of water flowing down the outside of the house as the never ending deluge fell from the perpetual grey clouds that filled the skies of Arkanis. The room was long, a dark wooden desk and two chairs stood to one side and you gently placed the candle down swapping it for one of the fuel cell powered lights. It filled the space with a barely perceptible hum but it gave you a sense of comfort. You trailed a hand over the back of one the chairs, the velvety grey/green texture soft against your fingertips. Lining the walls were rows of shelves all holding artifacts from one place or another. You even saw an old Imperial Trooper helmet on one but that’s not why you were here. Looking up you could see the foreboding wooden structure ran all the way to the ceiling and the top half was filled with books.

Books were rare in the Galaxy and for the Hux’s to have an entire library of them just screamed out their insurmountable wealth. You carefully made your way up the stairs, your heart thrumming with excitement as you approached the delicate objects, some were standing, their binders out so you could see the titles. Others were slumped in their little spaces, resting on one another as though they were tired of existing. Dust covered them, a thin layer but enough to see when it had been disturbed and you saw a void on one shelf. You trailed a finger across the gap, someone had been here and recently. You jumped when the door opened below, your first thought was to hide among the shelves but the light was on and it was pointless pretending you weren’t here.

“Hello?” Your breath hitched at his voice.

“Forgive the intrusion General.” You carried on perusing the shelves, coming into view so he could see you as you moved into the next aisle and disappearing from view again.

“No intrusion, it is I who should apologise for disturbing your solitude.” Always so formal, you thought with a little sigh. A shiver ran down your spine when you heard him start to come up the stairs to replace the book he had taken.

“Do you have a favourite General?”

“Book?” You peered round the end of the aisle to look at him, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Yes of course you meant book,” he muttered to himself. Your eyes dragged over him, he was still in his First Order uniform, he had bags under his beautiful green eyes and his hair was fluffy and soft as it dragged over his brow.

“Can you not sleep?” He cast a guilty look at you, his pale hands clutching the book tightly as though it was grounding him.

“No,” he confessed. “I am, I believe…nervous.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words, you had so much you wanted to say, how you hoped this marriage could blossom and become real but you didn’t think he was ready.

“I told you, I am not unwilling, I do believe it was the library that might have sealed the deal.” You joked and he let out a slight laugh, running a hand through his hair. You wanted to commit the sound to memory. He didn’t seem like a man who laughed freely very often.

“You enjoy books?” He asked lightly.

“I must confess we only had a couple in our house before…” my father sold them. “I did have one, it had such beautiful pictures depicting the planet Naboo.” Your eyes drifted as they lost focus, you remembered running your hands over the pages admiring the blues and greens, the glint of gold in the letters. Naboo was everything Arkanis was not. Armitage raised a hand and you focussed back on him.

“Wait a moment,” he mumbled and disappeared down an aisle, curiosity got the better of you and you followed him, both of you disappearing into the dimly lit rows of books. “Here,” the whisper of a book being removed from its resting place reached your ears and he turned to you with almost a hesitant expression on his face. “I believe this is the book you are referring to.” You took it, tracing your hands over the cover before turning and heading back into the light. You felt like you were in a dream as you glided down the stairs and took a seat in one of the plush chairs. You didn’t realise he’d followed you until he was peering over your shoulder. His body heat a comforting sensation on your back as he leaned over, his hand resting on the back of your chair, ever careful not to touch you.

You winced at the crack in the binding as you opened it, they hadn’t been handled for a while and so you must always open them with care. The pages were thick, just as you remembered and words were scrawled across the parchment. Long flowing runs of slanted words, the first letter of each page stood out, decorated with shimmering gold and you gently traced a finger over the colouring. You turned another page and sharply inhaled at the picture that was revealed to you. This picture showed waterfalls all blue and clouds of white, vibrant green grass and sunshine. You ached for such things, to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, to be able to lay on the grass and hear birdsong instead of rain. To splash in the lakes, run your hands over the gem coloured pebbles only to dry off in the sun, a gentle breeze drifting over you. Many hours had been spent pouring over this book, it had got you through your mother’s death, transporting you to places undiscovered.

You didn’t realise you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, concern edging his tone.

“Yes,” you dabbed your eyes, careful not to mark the pages. “I am just being silly.”

“Do you have memories tied to this book?”

“I do,” you hiccuped softly. “When my mother was dying I spent hours pouring over the pages, imagining I was anywhere but here.” You slammed the book shut already worried you’d said too much. The marriage was tomorrow and if you spilled anymore of your damaged soul he might call the whole thing off. You stood abruptly making him back up a step in surprise, your fingers clutched the book almost loathed to part with it. “Thank you for showing me this,” you whispered, offering it back to him. His hands were hesitant and slightly shaky as he wrapped them over yours. His fingers were warm and smooth and he pushed the book gently back towards you.

“They never get looked at in here. Consider it….a wedding present.” You glanced at him, the light from the lamp casting harsh shadows over his chiselled features but all you got from him in that moment was kindness.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. You expected his hands to move away but he stayed where he was, the warmth of your hands bleeding together until you couldn’t tell them apart without looking down. Your heart fluttered, you wanted to kiss him, to express your gratitude and to show him some kindness in return. You’d heard the rumours of how ruthless General Hux was, his subordinates deferred to him without question, he’d killed people for less than disobeying a simple order. But right now you saw none of that, just a quiet man in his huge house offering a moment of solace to someone he barely knew. Your chests rose and fell in sync as you stared at each, you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek but his expression changed. You saw the horror flood his eyes, the panic fly across his face as he snatched his hands away, his movements jerky and he backed out of your reach.

“Goodnight My Lady. I shall see you tomorrow afternoon,” his tone abrupt and dismissive as though he was brushing you off.

“Goodnight General.” You replied softly, watching him almost flee the library. You sat down with a sigh, pulling your gown around you to ward off the sudden chill that filtered into the room. Hopefully he would open up once you were married, hopefully you could show him the love that he clearly deserves even if he never returns it.

[immortalecstasy-blog]

The Man From Willow Creek - PART ONE Pairing: Mountain Man! Dean/Author! Reader

Y/N isn't in a good headspace, so her publisher sends her off to a remote cabin in the mountains in an attempt to rid her of all distractions and produce the highly anticipated first draft of her last book. But as she battles with snow, word counts, and surprise visitors, she learns that not every battle needs to be won, and that happy endings aren't always what we'd think.

WC ≈ 35,000 Total A/N: Thank you to@redweddingsandbowties for helping me to churn out over 25,000 words in a week and filtering out my typing fails. Warnings: Violence, Recreational Drug Use, 18+ Smut, Pet Death

Read on AO3 or...

“Miss, your total is $426.54. Miss?”

Y/N blinked and looked up at the cashier before taking her credit card out and handing it over.

“Are you stocking up for the end of the world?” The cashier asks as he runs her card. Y/N glances at the trolley loaded with a months’ worth of non-perishables and a dozen crates of beer.

“Something like that.” She tells him as she scribbles her signature on the store receipt.

The trolley is a bit on the heavy side as she heaves it across the car park towards her truck, but she manages it. When she’s got everything all loaded up beside the bags and bags of logs she’s worked up a sweat and has to unzip her coat as she climbs up into the driver’s seat. The truck feels empty without her little border terrier, and she finds herself wishing Harley could have been with her for this new adventure.

It had been her publisher’s idea to go on this little escapade, to get her out of the city, away from all the distractions. He cared more about the lack of pages than her deteriorating mental health, but for the sake of her sanity she had agreed that a month-long retreat into the mountains might do more for her writer’s block than being in her too quiet apartment. Her creative juices had bit the dust around the same time she’d had to make the heart-breaking decision to have Harley put to sleep.

His other idea had been to get a new dog. She’d used some extraordinarily strong language at that suggestion, so… mountains.

She feels fairly well prepared. Provisioned. Whatever. The cabin her publisher had found had been empty for a few years, and she had been warned that it may take a bit of work to get the generator working, and that there would be no mobile signal out there either. But she had been equipped with a satellite phone and the publisher had done some technological whizz-bang magic that meant she would be able to send and receive emails via satellite. She’d also done her own extensive research, which hopefully meant that once she arrived, she wouldn’t have to make the drive back to civilisation until her month was up and her first draft was on its way. She had churned out three books a year at some points, she could manage this.

She reaches over to the passenger seat to pick up one of her many notebooks, this one was her ‘survival plan’. “Snow tyres, check. Firewood, yes. Socks, hundreds…” She went down the whole list, covering everything from dry shampoo to copious amounts of candy and snacks. She’d even found a repair manual for the generator online, and had both printed and laminated it, just to be thorough.

“Okay, let’s do this.” She says aloud, still not used to Harley’s absence. The truck’s engine whines a little as it starts up, and she takes a moment to put the map (also laminated) on top of the paperwork piled up on the passenger seat. She still had a few hours until noon, plenty of time to get to the cabin while it was still light and make some sort of order out of it before dark.

The first two hours of her journey went as expected. She didn’t even miss the hairpin turn she had been dreading, but as the bare trees began to curl over the road and block the sun, she felt a prickle of unease. Wishing again for Harley. What was she thinking? A woman, on her own, hiding out in a run-down cabin in the middle of nowhere, all for a book she was contracted to write but had no heart for.

The last four years of her career had been dedicated to her high fantasy trilogy, the world, its characters, its mysteries. Mystery solved and arcs resolved, her baby was done. Before that she had spent years churning out a crappy serial romance saga before a well-earned break funded by selling the rights to turn them into a television series. That was until the inspiration for The Fallen had hit her. But of course, the publishers were keen to squeeze out more profit, and had coerced her into signing another book deal. They wanted a revival of the romance saga, but after over twelve years of being free from churning out two or three contentless books a year, it wasn’t something she wanted to revisit. Besides, it felt ridiculous to be in her early thirties, and turning back to something she started when she was only seventeen. Something different. She didn’t know how to write different. She had planned to save the existential breakdown until she’d arrived and at least got a fire going, but apparently her brain hadn’t got the memo, and she had to pull over to stumble from the truck and put her head between her knees. She focused on her breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose… “C’mon, you can do this.” … out through the mouth.

As she climbed back into the truck sometime later, she heard an engine and slammed her door shut just in time to see beaten up chevy truck thundering past, black smoke sputtering from its exhaust. The driver beeped their horn at her, and her panic was replaced with annoyance. She’d picked a safe place to pull over, she wasn’t blocking the road. Hell, that dick didn’t even have to move positions from the centre of the road.

Apart from the short break at the side of the road, and a five-minute detour down the wrong lane, Y/N was making good time. The only problem came when the cabin was actually in sight. A tree was blocking the drive, and nowhere on the map could she pick out any way to go around. The cabin looked to be only a ten-minute walk away, but everything was blanketed in thick snow, and she had a months’ worth of wood, food, water…not to mention all her writing stuff, clothes, blankets… beers. It would take an insane number of trips and eat into her daylight. But the tree was huge, and even if she had a chain or ropes to try and pull it out of the way, she had no idea how she’d do so safely. That wasn’t something she had researched how to do.

She climbed out and her legs disappeared up to her knees in the thick snow. Not to be put off by the first hurdle, she found the keys for the cabin, gathered up the only valuable things in the truck (namely her laptop and the satellite phone), and locked the truck behind her. The tree had a tangle of roots, so it seemed to have fallen naturally. Not that she really knew what she was looking at. She skirted around the edge and stomped through the snow towards the cabin, which was bigger than she had imagined. The ‘ten minute’ walk took closer to fifteen minutes, hampered by the snow, and then there was the issue of trying to get the door open. The wood seemed to have swelled, and she had to throw her shoulder against it several times before it burst open in a cloud of dust.

It stank. It had that unlived in smell, like stagnant water, and she kept the door open – not just for the light – but for the fresh air.

It was much as she expected really, a small kitchenette (which really was just a log stove and a cobweb infested sink with a single section of worktop) with a small dining table and four chairs. A mismatched armchair and leather sofa tucked close to a log burner. Two doors stood off the one side, presumably to a bedroom and a bathroom. “Right.” She said, setting her laptop bag down and wondering what to do first.

The owners hadn’t been sure that the water supply would still work, which is why she had lugged her own plastic barrels up here, but if it was working, she wouldn’t have to carry so many.

The pumped the lever over the sink a few times, still flushed from the hard walk. After a few tries, the tap sputtered out a dead spider and rust coloured liquid, followed a moment later by clear, precious water. The initial horror at the colour of the stuff still had her deciding to get some water from the truck, however.

“Okay.” She said to herself, stepping back. “Water, oil, logs, clothes for the night, bedding, cleaning stuff. Food.” She ran through her list again and then nodded, satisfied. On her way out of the door she spotted a big old wooden sled propped up under the window. “Perfect.”

Her second trip took longer than the first, fighting the sled the entire way and almost losing the barrel of water. It slid off the sled and looked for a moment like it might roll clean of the mountain, but the packed snow stopped it in its tracks.

Catching her breath for the next trip, she checked the other side of the two doors. Discovering to her horror that both led to bedrooms, then – to her relief – that the master bedroom had a rather basic en suite. It contained one of those giant clawfoot baths you only ever saw in movies, though this one was an old-fashioned green colour and a bit rusty around the plug. She hoped she could get the generator running to enjoy a soak at some point.

She tested the double bed in the master bedroom, and then checked both the twin beds, testing which of the three was the most comfortable, and therefore the one she would be using. The other bedroom, she would use as storage for all her supplies. The big bed in the room with the en suite was fortunately the comfiest, which meant she could pile all her stuff into the room with the twin beds.

She found an old oil lamp in the kitchen cupboards and a little paraffin heater in the cupboard under the sink. It was the ancient kind with no warning labels. Though common sense filled in the unwritten ‘use in a well-ventilated space or you will suffocate’. She set it up, just to take the edge of until she could get a fire going and put the lamp on the dining table next to her laptop, deciding there and then that this evening would be electricity free. She didn’t want to have to deal with the frustrations of the generator, and it seemed encompassing of her new mountain persona to forgo some of the basic necessities.

Two trips later and her hands are blistered from the friction of the sled rope, even through her gloves. Her legs are screaming at her, and despite the three thick pairs of socks, she would put all her royalties betting on frost bite setting in. There’s one last trip to make sure she has everything she’ll need for the night and most of the next day, and then she covers the flatbed of her truck with its waterproof cover and makes sure it’s stupidly tight. None of her things will enjoy a night in the freezing cold, but as long as nothing gets too damp, everything will be fine.

The door had been open all this time, so the cabin is now just as chilled as outside, but at least it smells fresher now. Her phone – devoid of all signal – becomes a glorified sound system. The oil heater starts to inject a little warmth, and as soon as it’s warm enough to abandon her coat and gloves, she gets to work on making the place fit for habitation.

“…As long as my heart's beating, and these old lungs keep breathing, the highs and the lows, yes and the no’s…” She sings loudly as she sweeps out the log stove of half burnt longs and powdery grey ash.

By the time the sun is setting, the whole cabin is as dust free as it can be without a hoover, the log fire is roaring, the bed is made, and the only lingering issue is the draft from the front door, which – having been forced to open – is now refusing to close properly. Having decided that the back and forth from the truck was enough work for one day, Y/N simply snacks instead of making a dinner and then sits by the fire with her notebook and pen. The flannel patterned throw she’d bought from home depot thrown over her legs.

Nothing comes. Not even a silly doodle in the margin. True, she usually wrote on her laptop. But the charge wouldn’t last long, and she’d been prepared to write this book by hand.

Even with the fire and the blanket there seems to be a wickedly cool draft, and she makes a note to put a makeshift draft excluder together in the morning. Finished with her bag of chips, she stands to select another snack and grab a beer, missing Harley weaving between her legs. She twists the cap of the beer bottle and walks back to the sofa and freezes in surprise.

On the sofa, is a pleased looking black Labrador.

The beer bottle slips from her fingers and shatters on the floor. The dilemma of broken glass and soft paws snapping her out of her shock.

“Hello…” She says slowly, answered by a thumping tail on brown leather. “You stay there. Okay?”

thump thump thump

“Okay, good boy… girl… good dog. Stay.”

Fortunately all the cleaning supplies are in easy reach. Y/N focuses on sweeping up the broken glass as a priority, ignoring the beer sloshing around the stone floor and seeping into the rope rug. Glass sorted; she gets a cloth to wipe the beer up. The front door in ajar, which explains how the dog got in. But it doesn’t explain what they’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere. They seem happy enough, well fed, shiny coat, wet nose. So they’re obviously being cared for by someone.

“Okay, it’s safe.” She tells the Labrador from the floor once she’s sure all the glass is up. They seem to be a pro at broken bottles, because with the all-clear, they jump from the sofa and come greet her properly.

“Oh, yes, hello. Nice to meet you too.” She tells them, trying to shove their face away as their tongue makes a beeline for her mouth. She giggles, giving their neck a good scratch. There’s a chain collar, but no tags. “Where are you from, huh?” She asks, attempting to stand, her knees protesting against the stone floor.

There’s a tremendous bang and the front door flies open. Halfway to her feet, Y/N loses her balance and topples onto her back, staring up into the doorway.

Where a bearded man in a Stetson and a heavy coat is pointing a shotgun at her.

PART TWO

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 16

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 16

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1754

Summary: Some of Sam’s efforts to ‘nest’ in their new life together reveal new possibilities.

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, swearing, s l o w  b u r n

           Water laps at the weather-beaten wood of the dock underneath you slowly and the rhythm feels like hypnosis with the sun beating down a blanket. You sense Dean at your side without opening your eyes.

           “So…was he any good?”

           You can’t help but laugh, hearing the echo go out over the small lake, and get up to your elbows. It’s bright enough that you have to squint over at Dean where he lays next to a couple fishing poles and a cooler, t shirt hitched up to show a sliver of his stomach with his arms behind his head. His smile is devilish, made even more smug with eyes closed against the sun so his lashes cast an inch-long shadow on the dusting of freckles across his cheeks. “You can’t ask that!” you giggle.

           His lips flatten into a knowing line. “So that’s a no?”

           “Jesus Christ, of course it’s not a n—you know what, I’m not talking to you about this,” you smile, laying back down.

           “Ooh, so it’s a yes,” he teases as he turns on his side to face you. “Go Sammy. That mean you two are, like, going steady now?”

           You let your head loll over to him and roll your eyes. “Are you done?”

           “Not yet. Is he going to let you wear his letterman jacket? Take you to junior prom?”

           “I’m giving you ten more seconds.”

           Dean laughs, free and easy. “Fine, okay, I’m done. Wait—did he wrap it?”

           “DEAN!” you yell, covering your face in embarrassment.

           “Okay, alright, okay.” He’s still chuckling when you open your eyes to look over at him and reaches over to slip a piece of hair behind your ear. “You, ah, you seem happy.”

           You search his eyes for any hidden anger and find only the softness of calm affection with a pinch of solemnity. Where his hand lingers in your hair you turn into it, pressing your lips to Dean’s palm. “I am.”

           Dean smiles, straight teeth a perfect row of pearls so white you think for a second they might ‘ding’ with sparkle like a cartoon, and he looks relaxed enough as he puts his hands back behind his head that it calls up images of a kitten falling asleep in a sunny spot like this even as he keeps his eyes on you. “Took you guys long enough.”

           “And you’re still okay with this?”

           “Yeah, hell yeah. That’s the best I could ever ask for, you two happy. So, what do you say? Want to see if we can catch some fish?”

           Spring was a blessing; clean greenness breaking through the grey and white purifying the air and breathing new life into you, Sam, and the community you’d come to be a part of. The cabin was that much nicer with the new hours of sunlight pouring through the windows and all the upgrades you had put into it, to the point that you began to feel truly comfortable there. You even invited the Kaisers over for dinner a few times, feeling more like equal partners in your burgeoning friendship with them.

           You started to feel stable enough to get things; picked up a bookshelf at the combination flea/farmer’s market that happened in the K-12 school’s field every Saturday morning and got higher quality spatulas to cook with, the kinds of nonessential stuff you never would’ve bought before knowing you were going to stay in one place long enough to get good use out of them. Sam, in turn, kept building: changing the locks to sturdier ones and erecting a shed big enough to hold a lawn mower.

           You’d been cooking on an early Sunday afternoon when Sam came home and crossed the cabin in a few strides, giving you a kiss on the cheek before setting a thick paper bag down on the kitchen counter. “Smells great, what’re you making?”

           “Ratatouille!” you buzzed, placing a slice of eggplant carefully into its slot. “I’ve never had it, but I’ve always thought it looks so pretty. Hopefully it’s good. Where were you?”

           “Hardware store. I thought maybe I could build a greenhouse; see if we could grow anything. Might be enough to work against the cold.”

           You raised your eyebrows in appreciative surprise. “Look at you! What’re you thinking? Poppies? Platinum OG? Purple Haze?”

           Setting a box of screws down, Sam rolled his eyes through a smile. “My plan was more along the lines of tomatoes or something, but I’ll, uh, take those suggestions under advisement.” You had a sudden urge to twist a gentle finger into the dimple that stayed on his cheek as he unloaded the rest of his supplies but didn’t want to embarrass him, instead sweeping some garlic skins into your hand to throw into the small bucket Sam kept under the sink to collect scraps for the compost pile. When the bag was empty he refolded it and took off his jacket, passing by you to put it on its hook by the door. “Want any help?” he asked, sounding about as breezy as you’d ever heard him.

           “It just has to bake for about an hour. Does a late lunch work with your construction schedule?”

           Sam leaned over to slip a hand around your waist and kissed the top of your head before grabbing an armful of stuff to take outside. “Definitely. Just yell when you’re ready for me.”

           You giggled and waggled your eyebrows suggestively. “I’m always ready for you.”

           He tried his best not to blush but bit his lip in spite of himself, looking up at you with a bashful twinkle in his eye. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

           In response you held up a spare slice of zucchini that Sam readily accepted, opening his mouth like an obedient puppy and chewing as he went out the back door.

           You loved watching Sam work on his greenhouse in the weeks that followed, getting so excited about the tiny shoots sprouting up from the soil that he sometimes woke up early to check on them before starting his day. After a few weeks he woke you up one morning with a cup of coffee, bare-chested under slightly sleep-tangled hair and the hems of his flannel pants sloppily half inside his boots. “I wanna show you something,” he said, throat still gravelly. You accepted the mug and got out of bed, following him drowsily and jamming your feet inside your shoes at the door, too tired to worry about the laces.

           He led you into the greenhouse with its clear plastic walls and pointed down at a petite bud on top of a green stalk. It had the telltale waviness of a basil leaf, and when you bent down to look closer at it the plant already smelled herbaceous. “It’s so cute!” you hummed. Sam practically glowed with satisfaction, an unbridled smile the perfect accessory to the broad span of his chest where it was backlit by the fuzzy light through the greenhouse walls. You straightened and rubbed his back in congratulations, staring down at the plant together with your coffees like parents on Christmas morning. Tucked in the corner of the greenhouse behind the basil, a scattering of bitty white flowers caught your eye against the burnt umber soil.

           “Wait, you already have stuff flowering in here? What’s that?” you asked, tiptoeing around the wooden stakes in the soil to get closer.

           “Oh—I, uh—” he stammered behind you.

           At arm’s length the flowers looked vaguely familiar and you stopped short. “Is that—?” You turned back to Sam, who seemed not to be able to come up with anything to say, his face the kind of blank surprise that indicated he didn’t know whether you were about to be upset. “Really? Where’d you even…how did you get some?”

           He tucked his hair behind his ears to stall for even a half second. “I—well, I found a guy who got me—got us—some.”

           “You still have an African dream root hookup?”

           Sam’s lips pressed into a well-practiced silent ‘I guess?’ and he reached back to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck, the movement stretching his side distractingly enough that if you hadn’t been so startled by the discovery of a plot of dream root literally in your own backyard you might’ve forgotten what you were talking about altogether.

           You raised your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to explain.

           “I made some calls, found someone in Milwaukee who got his hands on some and he mailed it here. I didn’t want to, uh, tell you in case I couldn’t get it to grow.”

           All kinds of possibilities and frustrations raced through your head. “So you’ve had this for weeks? That’s why you built the greenhouse?” Sam didn’t answer fast enough. “Never mind, I don’t care,” you found yourself saying, and surprisingly, actually meaning. You took a deep breath to stop the words from jumbling together. “Do you think it’ll work?” you breathed, knowing he would understand the real question: would we be able to see Dean together?

           “Only one way to find out.”

           For whatever reason you’d gotten freshly showered, made up, and dressed before brewing the tea with Sam on your next day off of work. It felt like there should be some level of pomp and circumstance about it, this giant undertaking that might be able to change your whole life again, even knowing that your prep wouldn’t translate into a dream. You were giddy with anxiety and almost wished you could reasonably put it off, the idea of this new possibility being yet another dead end making you nauseous.

           “Your place or mine?” you asked, trying to put a little sheen of humor on your nerves.

           Sam chuckled but you could tell he was nervous too, rubbing his palms dry on the knees of his jeans over and over again. “You haven’t done it before, right?”

           You shook your head. “Is there a learning curve or something?”

           “Honestly it’s been long enough that I don’t really remember. Hold on—hold still.” He reached out and very gingerly swept a finger across your cheekbone, drawing back to show you an eyelash stuck to the whorl of its pad.

           You straightened where you sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s as good a sign as any. Cheers, I guess.” Sam dropped the tiny hair into his mug and touched the ceramic to yours, his eyes hopeful and reassuring as you took tandem sips.

           And then you were off.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 17

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

Chapter 15 - Valley of the Living Rock

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday at 6:00 pm CEST dst/UTC +2:00 on (link) Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

Elsa could not avert her gaze as they passed the ice palace on her left about an hour after dark. She had placed her forearms on top of each other on the side of the wagon and supported her chin on her left hand while she visibly enjoyed the sight. A pale blue glow lit up the palace from the inside and made the filigree structure visible from afar. It was like a beacon in the night and beautiful to look at.

“This is what I should have created?” she asked Anna softly, “It is simply fantastic.”

“Yes, that was you, Elsa, all alone. I'll have to tell you the long story about it sometime after. It was your refuge and is now the home of Marshmallow and the Snowgies.”

Elsa turned to her with a questioning expression on her face. But Anna laid a hand on hers before she could ask for it and said, smiling, “Be patient. It's an exciting as well as funny story and you'll certainly have many more questions about it.”

Elsa nodded and turned around again afterwards. “All right", she said very quietly and, "I'd love to have a look at it from the inside,” more to herself than to Anna.

But Anna had heard it and said almost as softly, “You will, sis. We will visit your palace together. Hopefully very soon.”

Suddenly Anna remembered all the events when she was looking for her sister back then. Except for the pure beauty of the palace itself and the fact that she had met Kristoff on her arduous journey, however, she did not have very pleasant memories of it and she was somehow glad that Elsa did not insist on her story right now. There was plenty of time for that in another day; she thought.

But it wouldn't be easy for her to reopen her past, she knew that for sure now. She bit her lower lip slightly as she thought about it, but quickly shook the thought off again. There were more important things to do now and soon they would reach the Valley of the Living Rock. Her eyes fell on Olaf, who was sitting directly opposite her. Somehow he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, for he nodded at her in a knowing way and looked at her sympathetically.

But as if she had guessed the right moment in advance, Kristoff just called forward in a loud voice and asked Mattias to come back to him. Both wagons stopped and Mattias rode to his side.

“I know a shortcut and we have to turn off further ahead soon. The path is hard to see, especially now in the dark. It's best if I get in front of your wagon and drive ahead. Sven also knows the way and will lead us there safely.”

“All right, Kristoff. I'll let my people know up front, and we'll come after you. How long will it take us to get there?”

“A little over an hour, I'd say. We'll have to walk the rest as soon as the road is too narrow for the wagons. Besides, the area is very rocky and there are active geysers there.”

Kristoff saw, in the flickering light of the lantern hanging outside the wagon, how Mattias looked at him in astonishment, finally just nodded and rode back. Kristoff pulled up slowly when he saw Mattias waving. The wagon in front also had a lantern hanging on the outside and as he drove by he saw two sceptical looking faces. Trygve and Kristina were obviously not very eager to meet living legends from an ancient fable story in the middle of the night. He nodded at them smiling, “Don't worry, folks. The trolls are harmless. I grew up among them.”

But Kristoff did not see them grinning at each other anymore and Trygve tapped his temple with his finger and shook his head.

Olaf climbed to the front beside Kristoff and laughed in his inimitable way: “I am looking forward to seeing everyone again, especially the little ones. They're always so funny.”

Kristoff looked over at him and was about to answer him when Anna's head appeared between them and said to Kristoff conspiratorially quietly, “Kristoff, I think it's better if you go ahead later and make sure that only Grand Pabbie is waiting for us alone. I don't want Elsa to be frightened. You know how trolls are. Maybe you should warn him about her condition right away.” Turning to Olaf, she quickly added, “I'm sorry, Olaf, but you won't be able to see the little ones tonight.”

“Never mind, Anna, we'll visit them some other time soon,” he returned happily and laughed at her.

Anna looked at Kristoff again and he nodded. “All right, Anna. I hadn't thought of that yet.”

She put a hand on his shoulder with a smile. “Thanks, honey.”

When she sat back down again, Elsa grabbed her arm and asked, “Trolls? We are going to see trolls now?”

Anna pressed her lips together with raised eyebrows and wide open eyes and felt caught. Kristoff hadn't exactly been quiet earlier, and Elsa was now certainly feeling insecure. Why hadn't she instructed Kristoff before.

“Um ... well, actually only to one troll. He is very old and wise, has great amount of knowledge. You have seen him twice before and he has known you since we were both little kids. Kristoff and I hope he can help us with your lost memories. He has certain abilities, you know? You don't have to be afraid of him, even if he looks a little ... strange at first glance.” Anna searched Elsa's face to see if she seemed afraid.

But Elsa just smiled and replied, “I think I have many more miracles to prepare for. I'm beginning to feel as if I've woken up in a fairy tale that's come to life.”

~~~

Yelana had now been on the road for hours and stopped at a lively little stream to refresh herself and give the reindeer water. The advantage of travelling cross-country, as opposed to a wagon on a reindeer, was to save time and travel. She knew the area pretty well, so there was no danger of getting lost in the woods. But despite the time saved, dusk had already fallen and she would not quite make it to Arendelle in daylight. It did not make sense to arrive there in the middle of the night.

She looked around and found a good place to spend the night. The foliage of a big tree was very dense and underneath it was a small open area that would protect her from possible rain. At least as long as it did not pour.

She led the reindeer there and tied the line of the harness to a thick branch. Then she gathered lichen, moss and some mushrooms for the animal. Unfortunately, she herself had not had time to provide for her own food, but this area here offered enough plants that were full of edible berries. She gathered enough of them to satisfy her hunger to some extent.

She then cut off some green pine branches from various trees around her and used them to make a temporary camp for the night. Finally she sat down in front of it and thought about her next steps. Would the council in Arendelle even believe her? She had to find Queen Anna first and inform her about the new situation. It would change everything and possibly endanger the newly won peace treaty between Arendelle and her people considerably. Would she be able to help her to regain her place as leader of the Northuldra?

Yelana sighed and shook her head. Probably not; she thought. In order to proceed against Kolgrimr without endangering further human lives, someone with magical abilities would be needed. Someone like Elsa. Right now they were all so dependent on their fifth spirit, however Elsa was unfortunately out of action.

Yelana reached into her bag and pulled out her scarf that she once got from her mother. She put it around her shoulders and wrapped herself tightly in it. Lost in thought, she stroked the five symbols on it and thought of her past, of the time when everything was still in balance and they all lived in harmony with themselves and everything around them. Long before the fateful day when King Runeard appeared and since then everything, but really everything, had gone out of control.

The peace had not lasted long and she would have to fight for it now, even if it cost her her own life. Once again, she had been thoroughly mistaken about someone, for as it now turned out, Gyda had been giving her son shelter for years and unnoticed. It had probably been she herself who had poisoned her son's being with her hatred and had turned him into a monster. Someone who was now even willing to kill.

Under no circumstances was Gyda allowed to lead the people of the sun. Not ever. She would make sure of it. But Yelana did not yet know how she would do it. She needed support. She needed help from Arendelle.

She gritted her teeth in annoyance and disappointment at herself as she thought back to the Norting and what she had told the men there.

Gyda had lied right into her face and she had believed everything.

~~~

Kristoff stopped the wagon and jumped off the trestle. “End of the line. We have to walk from here,” he called out.

Rocks rose up to their left and right, and the path had become narrow and rocky. Further ahead, the steam of the geysers enveloped the rest of the path.

Kristoff waved back to Mattias and the other two drivers and then went to Sven to make sure that everything was all right with him and that he felt comfortable. Mattias said something to his people and then came forward alone.

“Are we there?” he asked.

Anna replied in Kristoff's place, “Pretty much, Mattias, but Kristoff will go ahead alone first and announce our arrival.”

Mattias nodded and got off his horse to stretch his legs a little.

“I'll be back soon,” Kristoff said as he came back to them and got a torch from inside the wagon. He lit it on the lantern and disappeared shortly afterwards in the fog in front of them.

They waited and it took at least half an hour until finally the other two came to them as well. Trygve carried the lantern from the wagon and asked, “Is there a problem?”

“No, it's all right. Kristoff went ahead alone and should be back any moment,” Mattias replied to them. He saw their skeptical looks, which were directed past him to the front and said, “You don't have to come along if you don't want to.”

“It's okay, General” Kristina said, “We've been through so much already, we don't want to miss the opportunity to encounter a myth.”

She looked at her companion, who nodded affirmatively, “We'll come.”

“All right,” Mattias said, “to be honest, I feel the same way, but keep your eyes open all the time, remember our duty is to protect the royal family at all cost.”

A few minutes later, a faint reddish spot dancing up and down in the thick haze like a will-o'-the-wisp announced Kristoff's return.

After he gave his okay, they all left. Anna walked ahead at his side, followed by Elsa with Olaf, then Mattias, who looked around attentively, and in the end Trygve and Kristina, who looked visibly nervous and kept peering back over their shoulders into the dark. Kristina rubbed her wet palms against her leg dresses.

The little geysers hissed and enveloped them in their damp steam as they passed them. However, after a short time the view became clearer and the narrow path opened up into a lower, almost circular area where there was a large rock. On it sat a quirky looking creature covered with moss, wearing a chain of yellow shining crystals around his neck. It was Grand Pabbie, the king of the trolls, who looked calmly and serenely towards them and had folded his big hands in his lap.

They were already halfway to the clearing when Elsa only now noticed him and stopped in surprise. She stared at him and began to nervously knead her hands in front of her. She hadn't expected this after all. All the others behind her also stopped and waited to see what might happen. Only Olaf ran on and stood next to Anna, who now stopped right in front of the troll. She hadn't noticed anything behind her yet.

The old troll bowed before her. “Your Majesty ..., Kristoff ... it is never a dull moment with you all. Only this time you're going to give me a real challenge.” He looked at Elsa in between them and it took a few seconds before he finally said something again. “She's afraid.”

Anna's head spun around and she ran the few steps back to Elsa, took her hands in hers to calm her down and looked deep into her eyes. “Elsa, you don't have to be afraid of him, really. He only wants to help. Please come forward with me, I'll be by your side at all times,” she said softly and almost imploringly. “Trust me, there's no danger at all.”

Anna felt her sister's hands tremble slightly and for a few moments Elsa didn't react but just stared at the troll. Then her sister took a deep breath and nodded. She looked at Anna and squeezed her hands.

“Okay, let's do it. Whatever come next, we'll do it ... together.”

Anna smiled in relief and led her to Grand Pabbie, holding one hand. They stopped in front of him and Elsa scrutinized him closely, looking at every square inch of the old troll and wondering how such a creature could even exist.

He was alive, there was no doubt about that, but his hair and eyebrows seemed to be made of dry straw and there even grew a small bundle of it out of his ears. His bulbous nose was unnaturally large and the small indentations in it, which were probably the pores of his skin, looked more like the surface of a weathered stone, as did his skin, which showed traces of moss. His moss mantle looked somehow ... fresh, as if it had been harvested in the morning dew and simply peeled off in one piece as a blanket from the ground. The transparent crystals he wore around his neck on a willow rod chain glowed from inside without any visible light source and it almost seemed as if this glow was pulsating slightly.

Finally she looked up into his night-black eyes and held her breath. His gaze seemed to penetrate her and literally nailed her to the spot. His eyebrows lifted and he stretched out his short arms towards her, palms up. He obviously wanted her to put her hands in his. She felt Anna's handshake and her thumb stroking the back of her hand.

She took her eyes off Grand Pabbie and instead looked at her sister questioningly. She now released Elsa's hand and nodded encouragingly. “Go ahead, Elsa. That's just his special way of finding out hidden things inside us. This way he can feel and see what's bothering us. He can help you with that,” Anna said and looked into the troll's face. “At least I hope so,” she then added somewhat more quietly.

Elsa hesitated but finally raised both hands and slowly lowered them onto Grand Pabbie's large four-finger palms. When she touched them, all she felt was a cold, rough surface and a gentle pressure as the troll embraced her hands and held them.

For a while, nothing happened at all, everyone just stood there and concentrated on what was happening. Grand Pabbie had now closed his eyes and his bushy eyebrows were drawn together in deep concentration. There was a tense silence.

Then the old troll suddenly moaned and stared at Elsa. “You really have a big problem, Elsa, and I'm afraid I can't help you. You're under some kind of spell. Someone with magical powers has blocked the access to your inner self along with your memories.”

~~~

---

To be continued ...  

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp @the-fifth-spirit-elsa ​

[mandalorewhore]

Two Steps Ahead

PART THREE OF HUNTER (formerly hunter and prey)

gif by @princessxkenobi

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Fighting as Foreplay, Rough Sex, Penetrative Sex(PIV), Unprotected Sex, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Top Mando, Sub/Dom elements, Very slight Pain Kink, possible CNC elements although I didn’t write that I also want to warn anyone who doesn’t want to read about rough sex with physical fighting as foreplay Words: 6.9k AO3 LINK

Summary: Reader and Mando start tracking their first bounty together

A/N: i believe things are happening...interesting

***

 “I feel like you have a distinct advantage here.” A bead of sweat drips over your brow as you mop at your sweltering forehead in irritation. Your temple throbs as you press on it, pain shooting down your neck at the pressure.

       It’s so fucking humid here. You’re tracking one of Mando’s bail jumpers in the middle of a boggy swamp planet that you never caught the name of and you’ve been walking through the forest for at least 24 hours, only stopping for water and ration breaks. Based on the holo-map you’re currently staring at, this entire planet is one big swamp, with no escape from the damp, sticky environment.

 The thing barely makes sense, a jumble of colors and shapes that worsens your headache the longer you try to figure it out. You had borrowed a thin shirt from Mando before setting out, but it does little to protect you from the buzzing swarms of insects, while at the same time it reflects just enough heat to have you sweltering.

 Mando acts unbothered under all that padding and armor, trekking through the trees without any visible sign of struggle. You don’t understand how he can stay awake for so long without caf, yourself being covered in caf-patches to keep from passing out. It’s probably somewhat dangerous to have so much of the stimulant coursing through your veins, but oh well. If my heart gives out then at least I’ll escape the bugs.  

       “Footprints aren’t the only way to track a quarry.” He returns mildly, moving swiftly over tangled tree-roots to avoid the pools of murky water that litter the forest floor. You move with less grace behind him, trying to climb slippery wood and juggle the holo at the same time. The twisted trees of this planet seem to reach inward to point at the forest floor, giving you the impression of being trapped within their clutches. The eerie feeling isn’t helped by the distinct lack of light, odd lichen tendrils drape between branches to create a blanket that absorbs most natural light from the sky. A faint glow emanates from the tendrils, basking the forest with ghostly illumination. You scramble to the top of the particularly tall root he’s perched on then plop down to catch your breath.

       “No, it’s not the only way,” you pause to take a swig from your water skin, dabbing off the spilled drops from your chin with your sleeve, “but the footprints      you    track are apparently all glowy and red. I get to look with my naked eyes for shit like depressions in the ground, which is so fun considering the only paths here are solid wood.”

       Mando rolls his helmet on his shoulders, the effect similar to someone rolling their eyes. When he speaks it’s short and gruff, annoyed by your attitude. Which is… appropriate. The hours you’ve spent walking in this heat together is starting to snap both of your tempers. “Stop complaining.”

 He’s not wrong about the footprints. You’re mostly annoyed because of how useless you feel, more like you’re tagging along than assisting him on the hunt. Drawing your eyebrows together you try to come up with a plan. Most of those mercenary skills you talked up for Karga don’t apply here, this naturalistic setting is too messy and... wild. Unpredictable. You’re used to the structure that comes with starships and cities, places engineered and civilized.

 Tracking people isn’t very hard, you’ve done it plenty of times before. The only issue is that all of your practice came from environments where they left clear signs of direction, displaced gravel indicating a shoe-print, broken branches, a trail in sand. It also helps that your targets didn’t know they were being stalked. The only path here is over hard wooden tree roots, with nothing to indicate direction, not even moss grows over the foot trail for traveling feet to mark. You take in a deep breath and hold it for several seconds before letting out all your air in one huge swoop.

       “I’m sorry, “ you tell him sincerely, “I want to help you -and not just for a bigger cut. Is there anything I can do?” You truly do feel bad for snapping at him even if you know you’re right about his advantage. Just because you don’t have fancy thermal settings and footprint tracking doesn’t mean you’re useless. The Mandalorian settles his hands on his hips and surveys the area, looking for a task to assign you. His helmet tilts up and lingers on the trees, and you’re already two steps ahead before he can voice his idea.

       “I can climb,” you interject, standing up swiftly and moving. “Trees can’t be more slippery than a spacecraft.”

       He nods in acknowledgment. “Find something and your cut goes up by five percent.”

       “Ten percent.” You grin at him cheekily, wanting to tease him even if he won’t give it to you.

       “Eight, if you find somewhere to camp.”

       “Deal.” You return, already halfway to the widest tree you can reach without getting your feet wet. The trunk is covered in knots and twisted vines, ugly but providing fantastic handholds for your hands and feet. Grabbing hold of a sturdy looking ledge you begin your ascent.

 The climb is fairly easy even with the woods damp surface, and you reach the forest canopy with minimal effort. Carefully squirreling around the thin top-most branches you attempt to find a break-through point, the wood beneath you bowing a little from your weight.

 When you finally poke your head through and see the sky you gasp, taken aback by the sight. You hadn’t hung around in the cockpit during landing, instead choosing to pack the bags while Mando skillfully piloted his ship. The forest floor is all you’ve seen of the planet and apparently you’ve missed a lot.

       The sky here is beautiful, a color palette that is completely opposite from the dark, damp underbelly of the forest ground. Swirling aquamarine clouds float lazily in the sky, speckling the orange hued atmosphere above you. There are at least 6 pale moons lined up on the horizon from edge to edge, stars twinkling around each orb as if drawn to their orbit. You drink in the sight greedily, the ache in your head lessening in the natural light. This is      so     much better than the cold stark metal of space stations that you’re used to living on.

 It’s hard to tell the time based on the sky alone, the moons must be constantly present in the sky no matter the time of day and you can’t find a single sun. Maybe this planet lives off the light and heat from each moon, reflected from a distant star? The thought is lovely but you don’t think it’s possible. You file the image away for your daydreams then divert your eyes back to the thick forest, searching for anything useful to tell Mando.

       The line of trees is unbroken, a sea of dark green leaves and glowing lichen. An orange sky helps to warm up the pale glow from the lichen but it’s eeriness still sends a shiver through you. Everything on the horizon is of even height, betraying nothing within its depths. It isn’t ideal. You gnaw your lip anxiously, dreading to return to Mando without any information especially on your first hunt together. Eyes flitting around desperately, you try to analyze any possible breaks in the natural pattern of trees.

     Could that be a settlement there? You think, looking at a slightly thinner section of forest that might roughly be three miles away. You aren’t sure about the planet’s curvature and how flat the terrain is so you double check the holo, looking for the information.

 Something catches your eye as you’re pulling up the data, just substantial enough in your peripheral version that you stop what you’re doing. There is a mist rising from that thinned area, far enough away that you mistook it as some sort of lighting effect from the overwhelming color palette here. That has to be steam right? It’s too thick to be naturally occurring from the bog. There must be machinery over there. A settlement hopefully.

 You’re about to climb down when you pause, looking at the still lit holo with renewed curiosity. Something about the map visually paired with your clear view of the forest allows the pieces to fall in place. When you compare the shape of the map to the trees you’re finally able to make sense of what you previously thought was a topographical mess. A built pathway lies here, a body of water there. And clearings. Several clearings not too far from where you are now, the perfect size to settle down in. Hopefully they’re dry.

 Either the caf-patches are finally sending you into cardiac arrest or you’re manically happy to finally be of help to your hunting partner, but either way, you’re grinning so widely that your teeth clatter together.

 “Hey Mando! Guess what you owe me?” You shout down at the ground, beginning to descend. You’re so excited that you practically slide down the vines, jumping to the ground when you’re several feet high in the air, sore muscles creaking at the impact. The Mandalorian is sitting now, resting with his elbow propped on his knee while he waited for you to come back. There’s a soft pang in your chest and you wonder if he’s tired. You brush it off, feeling as though you’re just projecting, and instead grin widely at him in triumph. “7 percent increase for me!”

 He lifts his helmet and looks you up and down. “What did you find?”

 You reply chirpily, hands grasped behind your back and shit-eating grin still plastered on your face. “There is a settlement of some kind roughly three miles that way,” you point in the direction where you saw the steam, “and several clearings nearby suitable to camp in, if we don’t want to head in right away. Oh, also we aren’t on the actual path used by locals here, the asset must be making an effort to hide.”

 “That isn’t very smart of them,” Din observes, shaking his head at the concept. “Busy path hides more prints.”

 “Hm…” You take that in, wondering what other techniques a quarry may use to shake its hunter.

 It occurs to you that there is a lot you could learn from the Mandalorian, since so far hunting someone has been notably different from your mercenary missions. You’ll find a moment to ask questions later once you’re settled down for the night, wherever that’ll be. “Do you want to camp or find the maybe-settlement?”

 “We should camp,” he responds immediately, rising from his seated position and walking closer to you, “we don’t know what we’ll face there. You can choose the area, since you climbed the tree.”

 You pull up the holo-map again and zoom in on the different options, feeling far more energized now that you actually know what you’re doing. There are two spots that seem encouraging, both a short hike away from where you are now but removed enough to grant you some privacy. You’ll still need to set up a watch to prevent ambush or stray travelers from finding you but it’ll be easier if you make an effort to hide. One of the clearings seems to have a running water source, you hope it’s cleaner than the still-water you’re currently surrounded by. Maybe you can bathe there too.

 “Lets go here,” you pull up the coordinates for Mando, “that looks like a stream, right?”

 He leans into your body for a closer look, broad chest just brushing against you in a way that sends flutters through your tummy. You know he can zoom in with his visor, there is no reason he needs to be so close to you except for your benefit. He seems to enjoy messing with you like this, throwing you off with unexpected touches, looks, and gestures. It’s like a game he plays and you’d be far more annoyed by his teases if it wasn’t so exciting.

 “Looks good,” he rumbles low in his chest. “Fresh water would be nice.”

 Your heart quickens, but you tried to hide your reaction by teasing him back, tapping your fingers on his helm and stepping away. “I was hoping to clean myself up, actually…”

 Mando straightens up at this, visor locked on your face.

 “Lead the way.” He returns quietly, giving away nothing. Trying not to smile, you start off in the direction of the clearing, for once moving faster than your armored companion.

 Your goal isn’t very far, only about 3 miles north of your previous position and a mile adjacent to the settlement you’ll pay a visit to tomorrow. Large, fuzzy fronds of an alien fern droop down the sides of the hollow clearing, providing a barrier between the forest and empty space in between. The trees still tangle above the open area, blocking out part of the beautiful sky, save a few of the large moons, and old pieces of charcoal are ground into the sandy earth here, a sight that makes you a little anxious. This spot must be used by others, you’ll have to be more careful with setting up the watch than expected.

 The water source turns out to be a small spring set on the edge of a cliff at the far end of the clearing, a sizable waterfall cascading down the side and gathering in a crystalline pool. Skipping ahead of Mando to the edge of the pool you crouch and dip your fingers in the cool water, sighing in relief as it relieves some of the warmth in your overheated body.

 You’re unable to hear Mando’s approach - how he is so stealthy under 50 pounds of metal escapes you, but you feel him behind you. You smirk. Arching your back as you rise, you turn around slowly and begin to make eyes in his direction however, when you actually see what he's doing, you cringe at yourself in embarrassment. He’s not looking like you assumed, instead he is surveying the clearing skeptically, body-language imbued with disapproval. Your heart simultaneously sinks to your stomach and contracts in frustration. You thought you had finally done something right.

 “What? Is something wrong?” You ask him tightly, subtly shrinking in on yourself in disappointment. You try to hide this by fiddling idly with a stray thread on your tunic, stubbornly keeping your head lifted high despite wishing you could disappear. He doesn’t respond right away, instead turning and walking the length of the clearing then back, stopping just in front of you sharply. You meet his visor with your eyes, holding the look until you feel like you’re burning up in shame from the pressure of it.

 “It’s too… open,” he finally says, voice halting as he tries to find the correct words. “Anyone could walk into our camp.”

 “I figured we’d set up a watch. There’s only one entrance-”

 He interrupts you. “One ground entrance. Anyone can climb down from the trees.”

 “Maybe, but this planet isn’t supposed to be dangerous, is it? Practically abandoned,” You huff out, fists clenching at your sides as you argue with him. “Besides. It’s… pretty here.”

 The Mandalorian sighs, pinching the helmet just below the visor where his nose bridge would be. “Fine. I’ll take the first watch. No fire.”

 Nodding in response, you cross the clearing and set your bag down on a log, letting out a sigh in relief. That’s fine by you, you don’t need the extra warmth and the glowing lichen provides enough light to get by. You really did not want to hike again after moving for 24 hours straight. Mando mirrors your movements, leaning his rifle next to your pack before settling on the sandy earth. A loaded pause passes between you, earlier implications at the forefront of your minds.

 Letting out a shuddering breath you crouch down and pull your old tunic from your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before making your way back to the small pond. The water is completely clear, an inviting sight after the marshy puddles that made up the forest ground on your way here. You’re facing the water now but you’re still well aware of the man behind you, the intensity of his gaze burning even through the impassive visor. The invitation is clear. Take it off.  

 But you aren’t sure if you want to give him that yet. The exhaustion from today has wrung you dry, small bickerings between you and your work partner dampening the sweet mood leftover from Nevarro. Apologizing with sex isn’t really your thing. You’d rather stoke the mutual respect between you as allies instead of start up a pattern of fighting then making up.

 You crouch at the water's edge, peering into the depths for a moment before splashing your face with cold water, fresh scar throbbing as blood rushes to the surface of your face. The spare tunic you grabbed just brushes the surface of the water, sending ripples throughout your reflection. Curious, you lean over and observe the way the mirror-like pond breaks off into fragments, bits of you here and there mixing in with the moons that lay on russet sky.

     Like a painting. You think in awe, having only seen a couple of the artifacts in person. The richest target you were assigned to owned two pieces of art, real paintings on real paper, encased in transparisteel viewing cases before you smashed open the backing to wonder at them. You close your eyes and try to recall the texture of the paint before the rest of your memory catches up and sours the whole thing. The man's home had to be burned in order to erase evidence, his paintings too large to smuggle out of the city.

 When you open your eyes the pond has settled with your reflection only- you’re not alone.

 “Maker!” You jump at the sight of the Mandalorians gleaming helmet appearing in the reflection. “What the fuck, you sneak.”

 He just chuckles in response and offers you a hand, which you take firmly while rolling your eyes and standing. He leads you back to sit with him on the sandy earth, taking ration bars out of his pack- not yours, and breaking them evenly between you. The gesture is surprisingly tender and none too appreciated what with your stomach growling audibly at the bland meal. All at once, you are reminded by the spattering of caf-patches on your limbs, the jitteriness becoming more apparent now that you’re finally still. You’re shaking. Mando notices as well.

 “You may explode.” He remarks, prompting you to start pulling off the stimulant, crumpling each piece and setting them neatly in a pile at your knee.

 “Good, let me explode. You’re too bossy to work with.” You return with a smirk, hoping your sarcasm lands. He hums in response, pulling one of the patches off of your forearm and flicking it in your direction for you to catch.

 Tutting, you roll the patch into a ball and set it at the top of your pile. “Don’t leave a mess, this forest is ugly but at least it’s untouched,” you tell him firmly. Mando just nods.

 The ration bars are hardly a delicacy but you shove them in your mouth all the same, appreciating the engineering behind them. They are so calorie rich that a piece the size of your palm can keep you going for hours. However, your body can’t seem to relax despite the food lining your belly- perhaps you actually overdid the caf. You should be tired right now. Staying awake for more than a day isn’t exactly the average schedule but your knee bounces uncontrollably in a frantic pattern, stirring up puffs of sand between you and the warrior.

 “You need to tire.” Mando mutters, firmly placing a glove on your thigh and holding the limb down. “Stop that.”

 “Sorry,” you reply, trying to freeze yourself and sit as still as he does. Mando always exists so sagely, like a monk. Completely calm when he wants to be before exploding into action, no warm-up necessary. You wonder if he had some sort of meditation training to achieve that. Is that why he sits like that in the cockpit, his back rod straight like a statue? Weirdo.

 “Hey…” The palm at your thigh presses again and you suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t even realize you were twitching again. “Do I have to hold you down?” He growls.

 You gulp. “Tempting. But no.” Your words come out steadier than you feel. The caf becomes all too much in that moment so you lurch to your feet, his gleaming helmet following your body as it rises jerkily. You feel far too energetic, needing to get the energy out somehow so you can finally pass out. Your idea leaves your mouth before you can truly think it over.

 “Wanna fight?”

 “...What?” Mando sounds truly surprised even if his body betrays nothing.

 “You heard me,” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, swaying back and forth like a green sailor on the oceans of Mon Cala. “Let's practice our combat, I rarely get to do that.”

 He’s standing before you can blink causing you to jerk back, startled by his speed. The Mandalorian poses right in front of you, too close to not be a challenge with his weight settled on one leg breezily.

 “Okay. Hit me.”

     What a taunting mother fu-  You swing your left hand out as if aiming for the unarmored spot on his ribs, which he blocks with ease… leaving his throat open for your right fist to sharply jab.

 The bounty hunter doubles over, coughing and clutching his neck with one hand.

 “O-Oh shit! I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean, let me-” You scramble with lost movements, trying and failing to help him straighten upright. It leaves you awkwardly placing your palms on his back while the crown of his helmet presses into your belly. “I, um… Mando?”

 His arms wrap around your middle in a flash, pulling you tightly against his chest and throwing both your bodies to the ground. It happens so fast that you can’t even shriek before the air is knocked out of you, hitting the sand hard enough to throw it into the air around you. Gasping, you smack full force at the Mandalorian on top of you, his arms still crushing you against him while your legs lock straight together with his knees on either side. It’s sexy, but you’d really like to breathe. He lets up just barely.

 “Nice punch,” he rasps, throat clearly affected by the hit. “Don’t think I’ll hold back after that though.”

 “Don’t… want… you to…” You shoot back at him, sharp as you can manage while wheezing. Mandos visor raises ever so slowly and pins you, hidden eyes holding you down more effectively than his body. After a drawn out moment of this, your head spinning as you calculate your escape strategy, he crawls up your body to prop himself above you, locking your wrists in one large hand with the other presses against your chest, shoving your back into the earth. It is just enough pressure to squeeze some air out of your lungs and it is then when you know he isn’t kidding about not holding back.

 You’re so fucking happy that he isn’t letting you win.

 In other instances, you’d panic at the hopeless feeling of being trapped like this, by someone twice your size and clad in the galaxy’s most powerful steel. But the way he spars with you now, full force and not playing easy... it has implied respect for your skill. He knows you can fight and doesn’t spare you the opportunity to prove it.

 Only a second or two has passed since he fully immobilized you and you’re still locked in your flattened position. When he motions to stand, pulling your wrists as if to drag you, you know you must make your move now or it will be too late. The only spot he has open on his body right now is… well, right between his legs. The first thing a smaller fighter learns about combating larger foes is to fight dirty and there is no reason you should hold back if Mando isn’t. Your legs had been pinned tightly together before he moved to drag you but now there is just enough room to swing a knee up and hit him between the legs.

 Mando doesn’t wear a full codpiece but luckily for you, the padding on his groin isn’t enough to block your kick. A choked sound rips out of his throat and he falls to one knee, the fingers encircling your wrists loosening slightly while he struggles to fight his body’s natural pain response. You wrench one hand free and use it to grip his cowled neckline, planting your feet against his cuirass and swinging yourself into a hanging position before his grip tightens again. He's steady but you try to dig your feet in to throw him forward, hoping to twist around and land on his back with his face down. He totters for one frozen second, both your bodies on the precipice of falling but unfortunately, he manages to wrench himself backwards and land heavily on his back with you on top.

 You’re both gasping and groaning at the shock of hitting the ground so hard, and for one breathless moment all you do is stare heatedly at each other on the forest floor, eyes locking through his visor and somehow you know he is grinning.

 His smile mirrors on your face when you feel his hands rip at your clothes, wrenching the thin pants off of you down to your thighs forcefully enough to knock your legs together with a dull thud.

 “Did I not just kick you in the dick, Mando?” You laugh, working at his belt at the same time. He palms your ass through your underwear greedily, squeezing so hard that you know finger shaped bruises will blossom there.

 “You missed.”

 “Must’ve hurt either way…” You mutter, finally managing to reach under his thick layers and wrap your hand around his length, producing a low growl from the man beneath you. “Maybe, it's good I missed.”

 The only response you get is his hands pulling both your hands to lay on his chest plate then traveling back down your body to tug aside your underwear and grind you down onto his hips, rubbing your now bare slit against his bulge. You vaguely remember deciding against coming onto him as a form of apology, but for some reason, since he started first that all ceases to matter. It feels like a game you’ve begun to play with each other, playing with the tension between you and the Mandalorian until you find out what breaks your resolve. Maybe it started even before you entered this forest, perhaps back on Nevarro or even on the station.

 You can’t tell but you don’t want to question it either.

 A moan falls from your throat, your hands moving on their own volition to try and remove his belt entirely, or at least enough to pull his cock out. Mando’s glove flashes up again to circle your wrists, immobilizing them and harshly pinning you down with his vambrace lain across your back.

 “You yield?” He asks, voice dripping with a sickly triumph. A chill runs down your back and you feel as if he just dunked you into the pond.

 “W-What?”

 “You yield… I win?”

 “Wha- No!” You cry out indignantly, struggling against his iron grip. “I didn’t realize we were still sparring!”

 He laughs, fully bodied and dark with some emotion that swirls deep within your core, and you can’t put your finger on it exactly but you know you’ll have to do something before you’re swept up entirely. “Oh, but we are. What shall the winner gain?” He asks, so quietly that it is almost lost in the warped modulator, barely a question and more so a crackling of static.

 Fuck, you’re so wet.

 You lick your lips and shakily respond. “I am not one to give up, however-”

 “Then don’t. Keep fighting.”

 Oh, and you love what he implies. There is no reason to argue further and less time to act, so you immediately struggle hard with the upper half of your body, wrenching your wrists to try and distract him from the way your legs are free to swing into his ribs. But Mando doesn’t fall for your feint a second time. In fact, he seems to have expected it, his leg is more than prepared to hook around the back of your knees and hold you against his body, rolling to the side to throw you underneath him.

 You’re pinned on your back with nearly his full weight, unable to do more than weakly punch at what you can reach- unfortunately for you all you can reach is armor. Your cry of anger is cut short when Mando flips onto your front, your chest pressed roughly to the floor of the forest.

 The helmet appears over your shoulder, his ragged breathing right by your ear. “T-This okay? You want this?” You can’t find your words to respond with the way you're held so tightly against the earth, so you nod as best you can with one cheek pressed into the ground. Mando snarls something furiously, one hand leaving your back to fumble with his pants and pull his cock out, lining himself up at your soaking entrance and running the head through your folds.

 His helmet drops back down to your shoulder, the visor turning and burying itself into the line of your neck and you know that if he weren’t bound by his creed then he would be kissing dark bruises there.

  “You know this means I win,” he hisses, pressing his cock to breach your tight opening ever so slightly.

 “I-I know.” You whimper weakly.

 With that, he fully pushes himself into you and if you weren’t so wet you know his size would be unbearably painful. Instead, the stretch is pure bliss, a slow burning sensation that has a hint of sting to it, his dominance lending to complete submission and all you can do is lay there and take it. There is still the strain you grew to know from when he allowed you to use his body on Nevarro, but something about Mando topping you encourages you to open yourself for him with more ease.

 He quickly bottoms out then holds himself till, allowing you to adjust to his size. You’re writhing as much as possible under the way he crushes you to the floor, knees carving grooves in the soft sandy earth.

 “Fuck,” Mando grits, teeth clenched together so hard that you swear you can hear the grinding in his jaw. “You’re so fucking tight, fuck.”  

 The position is hard to maintain on the soft ground, his hands keep sliding ever so slightly on either side of you forcing him to adjust every few seconds. His patience breaks after the third time this happens, a growl crackling through the helmet as he settles his hands on your lower back and hoists his body up, knees planted on either side of your thighs, crushing them together with intense pressure on your clit. Your body is locked tight, pussy clenching harder around his cock when he rises into an upright position.

 You let out a genuine scream when he draws back then thrusts sharply into you, pain mixing with pleasure in a manner far more biting than on his ship, when he had let you take control entirely, never even doing so much as to thrust into you. It is almost too much for you but even while you struggle to take his cock, you don’t      dare    tell him to stop, nor do you want him to stop. You’re so blinded by the stretch that you don’t realize he is speaking until you miss several, distorted words.

 “Fuck, why did I wait, why did I wait? I should’ve fuck-fucked you back on the station, approached you in that hangar and made myself fucking clear-”    Each gritted word is accentuated by a mean thrust, his dick is so big that he has to shove himself inside of you rather than glide, breaking you open in a way that burns so sweetly. Your legs are held together, knees locked and straight, which doesn’t help how tight you are but you can’t budge at all to open yourself to Mando, his hands pressing down at your lower back so heavily that you’re short of breath.

 A garbled moan is forced out of you when Mando grinds his length into your pussy as deep as he can possibly reach, hips smashing against your ass while he pulses inside of you and for a second you think he's cumming. But no- he draws himself from your depths and starts to rut his cock between your cheeks, head resting on your upper back and hands by your head.

 A powerful hand wraps under your side and settles at your sternum, pulling you back against his cuirass and lifting so that you end up seated together, fitting against him without even an inch of space between your bodies. His hand lifts your hips, other appendage snaking around to position his cock back at your entrance before allowing gravity to do the work, your legs spreading to rest on either side of his thighs as you sink down on him to the hilt.

 Once settled, Mando starts to work you on his cock, lifting you like you weigh no more than a pebble then letting go. The head of his cock slams full force into your pussy with the weight of your entire body, each brutal pounding sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Lungs free and no longer crushed to the floor, you’re unable to stay quiet, broken sobs and moans puffing from gritted teeth as he takes what he denied himself on his ship, the memory a thousand miles away as your processing center is fucked stupid.

 You can’t say how long this goes on for, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but the next thing you know is that your cheek is back on the sand, burning from the way it chaffs against the floor with each rhythmic thrust that claps against your thighs. You’re don’t even know if you’ve cum yet but it doesn’t matter, not with the way he is fucking the life out of you here in the wilderness. Mando is still talking, still uttering filth and praise through the helmet and all you can think about is how badly you want to hear his real voice speaking that way to you, you’re so close to asking him to take it off but you can’t find the words, you can’t think, you can’t-

 Abruptly, he grinds to a halt at the deepest point in your body then pulls himself free, pushing your shirt up lighting fast before cumming across your back with a choked exclamation. You’re both still for a second before your knees collapse, landing flat on your belly and gasping desperately. There is a shuffling noise behind you, accompanied with heavy breaths from the bounty hunter. It sounds like he’s rummaging through something then, yeah- your train of thought is confirmed when a wet cloth wipes his pleasure from your skin, gently trailing along your spine and ass.

 You reach behind you and hold his wrist, feeling the fluttering pulse there. “I’ll win next time…” You whisper, drawing his hand along the soreness on your bottom, the area he bruised, you suspect. He laughs- or pants you can’t really tell, but either way his touch becomes more gentle on your body, smoothing out the tense muscles and cleaning you up. Today's travels with the man have suddenly caught up to you and you might pass out right here, half clothed and dirty.

 “Come on, get up. Don’t sleep here.” Mando firmly states, helping you up and guiding you across the clearing after you pull your leggings up from where they gathered at your ankle. You’re trembling like a leaf, fragile in your spent state but glowing all the same. Mando sets you down on a log and brings you a canteen of water which you gulp down thankfully. He chuckles. “Wait up or I’ll have to drink from the spring.”

 That gives you pause, reminding you of something he said while you lay beneath him. You’re slightly nervous to ask but you do it anyway, warm and satisfied on your perch while he cares for you. “You.. When you were, um- fucking me. Well, you said something about how you shouldn’t have waited. Does that mean what I think it means?”

 He nods, “I noticed you for other reasons too, burc’ya.”

 “Maybe you should’ve fucked me back then.” Taking another gulp then handing the canteen back, you stretch then slide down to sit on the ground with him, back against the log. “You said that word before, ber-borshaw?”

 “Burc’ya.”He corrects,“It means friend in Mando’a.”

 “Oh.”You cheeks heat, feeling silly and rude for not recognizing the use of his people’s tongue, also noting that he used it to refer to you twice now, endearingly. It is an honor, one that makes you nervous. You feel like you should apologize, somehow. “Y-You speak Mando’a? I’ve never heard you use it before.”

 Mando settles against the log, leaning his broad shoulders to rest against the wood near your side. A few moments pass before he responds, “I chose to not use it around the others. Didn’t trust them.”

 “Oh, so you trust me?” You giggle, tapping the side of his helmet with your elbow. Questions burn within you and you may as well ask now, in the quiet afterglow of sex where everything is warm and slow. “Why didn’t you trust them if you started the company with Ran? How am I any different?”

 “You aren’t ruthless,” he surprises you by answering immediately, and you can’t decide whether you're insulted or not before he continues. “Ruthless and cruel is all that group ended up being, and it didn’t start out that way. We weren’t just mercenaries, we had a      code.    In the early days, attacking a slave ship would’ve been out of the question. Ran wasn’t always so full of greed.”

 Silence falls after he speaks, letting you mull over his explanation for a while while the waterfall rumbles in the background. Really, his perspective confuses you when you think back on your actions as a mercenary. Desperate to climb the ranks, to make a name for yourself, to earn credits and reputation. You suppose you conducted yourself with empathy, avoiding selection for hits that targeted innocent people if you could help it. You never had much choice in the area but it seems your actions spoke louder than realized. So much energy spent to avoid seeming weak and you never considered that your aversion doubled as strength.

 “Friend…” You whisper, not of your own accord. The word floats on your tongue, a specter within your vocabulary. In your adulthood you’ve had allies, you’ve had teammates, you’ve had acquaintances, but to have a friend… it terrifies you as much as it warms your heart. You considered yourself partnered professionally with the Mandalorian and didn’t      dare    to consider yourself lovers, no matter how much you privately hoped. But a friend is a luxury you didn’t hold close, mainly out of fear. You lost too many as a child. For a faceless man he manages to strike areas that are quite intimate.

 You decide that you’ll enjoy being his friend, a bit surprised that you aren’t too hurt by what is essentially a romantic rejection of the crush you held for so long. Probably because this is      real    , solid and built within reality instead of the silly fantasies you built prior.

     This is better than lovers, you tell yourself, the slight ache in your heart melting into the background of your desires, behind lock and key for another world.

 “I’ll take ‘friend’, Mando.” You grin, extending a hand to him cheekily. He stares for a second before taking it and shaking, helmet tilting in a respectful nod.

 His next words send an unexpected pang throughout your chest, taking all the careful walls you worked hard to set up and throwing them into a blazing inferno.

 “Let’s see where it goes.”

  Fuck.  

   ----------------

   Leather boots prance lightly through thick branches high in the trees, footfalls landing silently with all the grace of an athlete. Through the delicate glasses perched on the pursuers nose, a red glow blooms on the shadowy floor of the swamp, two sets of footprints lighting up to reveal a steady path made by the travelers. A musical giggle bubbles out of the darkly dressed woman as she pulls a small holo-watch from her bag and straps it onto her wrist, pale light mixing with her lavender skin, transforming it into a sickly grey.

 Xi’an claps a hand over her mouth to prevent her cackle from ringing through the trees as her plan takes form.

***

TAG LIST (working on it slowly, message if you want)

@velia27 @shrekscoochiehair @tbhitisdbh @sparklingwitches @lazyonasunday @peach-child @leah-halliwell92 @riot-sounds

[themagicmistress]

He finds her in a back alley dumpster, head down, fur matted in ugly, spotted clumps that speak of long, hungry months and too few meals.

When Magnus fishes out a piece of jerky from his front pocket, she doesn’t even growl at him. Instead, her tail wags lightly, shifting the dust around behind her.

“Hey, buddy,” he mutters, approaching slow. “What’re you doing all alone out here?”

There’s a flash of tooth that has him retracting his fingers, and the jerky is scarfed down as she tears into it, messy. Her muzzle is grey, he notes, the fur around her scruff shot through with thin lines of silver. She sniffs after finishing and then growls when he reaches his hand out.

Magnus freezes. “Hey,” he starts, “it’s okay. I’m alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.” She gives him dubious eyes, pupils big and black, cautious in a way that hurts his soul. “Really,” he promises.

She leans her wet doggy nose forward and sniffs the palm of his hand, leaning her head down and giving him permission to scratch the back of her ears.

Well, he’d always wanted a dog, right? Magnus still wanted a dog, in fact. It’d been ages since he’d gotten to take care of one. Since he’s woken up to paws on his chest, a tail bouncing against his legs. It’d been a long time. Maybe too long.

She doesn’t resist when he picks her up and brings her to the vet either.

The first thing she does when Magnus brings her home is bound across his home. He runs in after her. “Julia!” he calls out, half-laughing despite himself. “I’ve got a surprise! Make sure the studio is closed.” God, he hopes he closed it before leaving.

He rushes into the kitchen to find her with an armful of German Shepherd, hands awkwardly wrapped around fur and a pattern of muddy pawprints up the side of her skirt. Julia turns to him, eyes alight, a delighted little grin dancing across her face. Her fingers are stained with wood polish and the sunlight makes her deep brown skin glow through the kitchen window.

“Is this delightful little lady the surprise?” Julia coos to her, and the dog in her arms licks the side of her face, flat pink tongue leaving a streak of saliva behind. She laughs in bright peals. “Hi, honey, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“You don’t mind?” Magnus edges awkwardly. “Ah, I’m sorry, I know I didn’t ask and this is your home too.” He falters and doesn’t continue. He doesn’t want to bring her back.

Given the mock-offended look she gives him, his girlfriend doesn’t either.

“This cutie? Absolutely not,” Julia clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Mine now. But maybe yours for a couple seconds. Can you take her? My fingers are sticky and I don’t want to get anymore polish in her fur.”

“Oh! Yeah, here,” Magnus helps the no-longer stray to the ground.

He finally manages to tear his eyes away from Julia and sees a row of wooden bows on the kitchen counter, carefully propped up on long planks as to not get any polish on the table. Reality doesn’t quite come crashing down, because the rebellion is an ever-present weight in the back of his mind, but his chest tightens at the reminder.

Their new dog sniffs slightly at his side. “Just trying to bulk up for the final push against Kalen,” Julia says, turning to wash her hands in the sink. “I have about thirty more in the studio. What do you think?”

Magnus plucks one of the strings. It twangs under his fingers. “Jules?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m not sure if everyone’s gonna be able to fire these?” He says unsurely. “I mean, the workmanship is excellent, and they look great, but…”

Julia frowns at them, tapping at one near the end of the counter to check for tackiness before holding it up. Careful, she pulls back the string and her biceps flex as it draws back with ease. Magnus gulps. Her eyes dance, mischievous and knowing as she puts it back down before she draws a breath.

“Yeah,” Julia grimaces at the row of bows, “I see what you mean. I’ll re-string them a bit later. Forget about work for now, did you have a name in mind for her?”

The dog jumps up onto his legs, paws on his pants and Magnus reaches down a fond hand to scratch between her ears. “I was thinking,” he hesitates, “what do you think about ‘Star?’”

It’s not quite right. It doesn’t feel wrong, but it’s just shy of the goalpost, like biting into banana bread without chocolate chips in it: not bad, but weird. Julia still nods, face warming as she looks at the new addition to their home.

“I like it.”

~

He’ll find them together on their off-days, few and far between, Star curled in Julia’s lap as she takes the time to read one of those detective novels she loves, but never has the chance to look at.

Star will look at her with pleading eyes whenever his girlfriend strays too far to the door, leash dragging after her. Star follows her around the house too, so much that they’ve had to install another, gated door in the entrance to the workshop because she’ll try to wander in if they’ve forgotten to close it behind them. During strategic meetings for the rebellion, Magnus will look around the planning room and Star will be around Julia’s legs because everyone they know is at the meeting too and they can’t leave her home alone.

The revolution is no place for a dog. It’s no place to have a life either, but then, he plans to do something about that.

It’s apparent to both of them who the favourite is. “Who’s the best girl in the whole wide world?” Julia says to Star, a goopy grinning mess on her feet in their bed.

“Love you,” Magnus says: to Star, to Julia. To whatever gave him a home, a better future on the horizon, a family he loves, and a ring with a wooden rose carved on top, tucked away in the second drawer of their bedside table.

She shifts closer to him, a warm weight at his side.

Julia pulls his chin to her and plants a kiss on his lips, warm and soft. Then, she pulls back and Magnus blinks, dazed but happy.

“Say that again,” She tells him, eyebrow quirked. “But this time, don’t make it sound like a goodbye, alright?” 

Magnus grins, a little sheepish. “I love you, Jules.”

A pleased grin spreads across her face. “I love you too.”

The week after Governor Kalen goes down, they take some time off to go to the park, toss around a ball. Magnus actually brought five balls, because he keeps throwing them a little too enthusiastically and they go bouncing outside the gates of the park.

“No, girl,” Julia giggles as Star jumps up onto her pants, “bring it back to Magnus, okay? Oh, alright, fine.” She seems to begrudgingly add another stick to her pile.

A guy nearby grumbles about the lack of sticks in the park and Magnus raises his voice. “Hey, Jules? Didja know they’ve been calling me ‘hero of the people?’” Magnus watches him pale and proceed to fuck off with no small amount of petty satisfaction.

“Yeah, babe! I know!”

“Isn’t that a great name!”

“I like ‘Maggie’ better!” Jules yells back and throws a stick. Magnus gets knocked over as a ball of fur collides hard with him and when he manages to push himself up, she’s laughing so hard her hands are wrapped around her stomach and her face is red.

“Just stand there,” Magnus shouts back, grinning too, “see if I care. Our dog loves me more than you and I’m pretty sure she just gave me a concussion!”

Julia throws another stick and they have learned nothing from their mistakes because this time Magnus really does get a concussion.

~

He finds her across the bridge that once connected to the Craftsmens’ Corridor, snout between her paws, fur coated in dust so thick she looks like a grey dog instead of a brown and black one. Magnus searches for Julia, upturns every outcropping of Raven’s Roost just in case there’s some chance she might have made it out, that she might have survived. Then, he does the same for Kalen, but for very different reasons. When he can’t find either of them, Magnus cries into Star’s fur.

He sets up a camp on the outside of town, just a little tent, something to put a roof over Star’s head. Magnus sleeps with her at his side and he is always cold, with the damp forest grass soaking through the thin layer between him and the ground, the clothes on his back that do nothing to warm his fingers, and each breath calcifying in his lungs like liquid nitrogen. Star becomes the only warm thing about him.

The first day after he sets up camp, Magnus wakes up to find her gone.

“Star?” he calls out, instantly alert. “Star?” Magnus bounds out of the tent, having slept in his clothes, and yells out to the forest. “Star? Girl, are you out there?” He searches, half-blind and panicked, not realizing where his feet are taking him until he’s there.

She’s at the edge of the cliff again, staring hopefully out over the two posts where a bridge once connected to his home. There is no bridge anymore. There’s no Craftsmens’ Corridor and instead there lies the open ocean, stretching in front of him for endless miles.

He walks to her side in a daze, a dream-like state. The horizon’s wrong, he thinks. From Hammer and Tongs, he could see the ocean, breathtaking and unending. Here, the other stone outcroppings lay scattered and empty to his right, marring his fantasy that for just a second, he’s home again.

“C’mon, Star,” Magnus mutters. She doesn’t move or look at him, just staring out over the water. He can’t find it in himself to tear her away, so he doesn’t. They sit there together until the sun goes down.

The next day, he wakes to find Star gone again.

Magnus keeps going there with her, leaving only to find them food. He goes to the cliffside in his dreams until there is no difference between his waking hours and sleeping hours. He always wakes up, disappointed that his wife’s never in them.

Eventually, he has to drag himself away. Star needs food, actual dog food and that takes money. 

At first, he leaves her with the Burringters, a family with a little girl that shrieks in delight at the sight of Star. They’re some of the last stragglers on their way out of town.

“Make sure she has her ball when she’s feeling nippy,” Magnus tells Mrs. Burringter and places a ratty green ball in her hand with long tooth marks gouged into its sides. “Sometimes she forgets how much she weighs, so just— be aware. Of that.”

“Of course,” the halfling woman says, hair done up into a high ponytail, belly swelled with many months of pregnancy. “Where’re you looking to find work?”

“Oh, uh, Birchmore.”

She nods. “I think Greg’s got a cousin up there if you needed help finding something to do. He’s got a little business importing leathers.”

Magnus blinks at the bit of unexpected generosity. “I’m good, thanks. Nice of you to offer, but I’m alright by myself for now.”

Mrs. Burrington eyes him and all of a sudden he’s small again, being stared down by his mother and he almost thinks she’s going to lick her finger and wipe off a bit of dust from his cheek. “You know, if you need something, we’re always here.”

“That’s—”

“Not just us,” She puts a hand to her chest. “Anyone from Raven’s Roost, Magnus. Any of us.”

Magnus isn’t sure what to say. He settles for, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

The sun rises and sets on the ocean and the two of them are there to watch it every time. Or, almost every time. Eventually, people leave Raven’s Roost and he can’t leave Star alone by herself so he brings her with him when he needs to find work, to buy food and essentials.

A part of him thinks Star needs to grieve, to take that time before moving on with him. Another knows that isn’t the reason he stays. 

She’s all he has left of her.

One day Magnus wakes up and Star hasn’t gone, and there is nothing warm about her presence at all. Her paws are on his chest, eyes closed and he knew she wasn’t a young dog, but somehow he’d still managed to miss the rapidly greying hair of her muzzle, the way she dragged her feet back to the tent.

Or maybe Star hadn’t died of old age. Maybe it had just been a broken heart.

He buries her beside Julia’s empty grave, makes her a wooden marker with simple lettering. She loved and was loved, he scrawls across it and the writing is crooked, far too messy for what she’d deserved, but it’s the best he can do.

The next day, Magnus packs up his bag and his tent, hefts his ax over his shoulder, and leaves the sea behind. A part of him already misses it and still, he knows it’s not the town he misses. 

Magnus doesn’t turn back when he leaves Raven’s Roost for the last time.

He knows he’ll see them again.

~

Link to A03 version here.

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.28

A Dangerous Homecoming

04/08/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 5,529

Warnings: wounds, blood, language, fluff

A/N: We are in the home stretch my loves. The end is in sight. Hopefully I can speed up my momentum. I have the chapters outlined out but always seem to slow down when I’m near the end. I’ve done it with lots of my stories. And I am SORRY. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Consciousness isn’t something that Steve is often at odds with.

From that fateful day when his mother gave in to her most rabid of fears and made her deal with the Sun Witch. With Doctor Erskine’s enthusiastic encouragement and his own experimental flare, Steve’s fate was changed.

He was altered, irrevocably so. The man he might have grown up to be—or rather, the man he would have died as��had disappeared and in his place a new one was formed. One of drive but not ambition. One with the will to do good and now with the strength to do so.

Steve had been blessed with the body to fight, but now he understands that he was also cursed to drag everyone he loves into the darkness opposite his light.

He gasps, sweating into his expensive and ridiculously extravagant tunic. The dark blue, etched in delicate silver and blacks is nearly soaked through.

His dark gray undershirt clings to his wounded and bruised form.

His lungs struggle for breath as his fear mounts, choking him as silver steel eyes grow dark, black, and dangerous. A curtain of deep chestnut hair flutters around a pale but cold bitten face. There’s a gleam to this man’s left and a fist curls with a keening cry as metal bends.

Steve’s hands twitch. His lips part, dried blood crackling around the edges of his lips.

His fever rages, burning hotter than he’s ever burnt before. The wound in his side stings. The pain is consistent until suddenly it stops.

As the dark eyes charge forward, his weapon hand raised to strike, a soft dampness coaxes Steve away from the image. He gasps, death poised to strike only inches away, when a soft whisper pulls him out.

“Shhhh.” The whisper says and Steve lashes out.

His eyes open wide, his hand closed tight around muscle and bone.

“Ow.” You whisper, pained but also controlled.

Steve’s eyes search and find you to his left, right hand angled painfully away from his face with a damp piece of cloth in its grasp.

“You’re safe.” You tell him gently, trying to convince him. “You’re alright.”

The panic in his chest dissipates. His heart begins to slow. There’s a searing burn on his left side and he looks down to see his shirt and tunic pulled up to expose a long wound now stitched together and freshly cleaned.

“Steve…” You plead. “My hand.”

His panic returns and he drops your wrist. “Did I hurt you?”

He pushes himself up but stops as you place a restraining hand on his chest.

“Don’t get up.” You order.

And it is and order. No doubt about it.

Though Steve knows that you take your role as Queen of Broklin very seriously, he has never heard you use that very authority on him and it strokes it heartstrings like a harp.

He sits back, resting against what feels like sacks of grain. It isn’t exactly soft but it’s better than the ground. Beneath his is warm mattress, hay by the feel of it. Grass too probably.

With his senses returning, he takes a quick look around where you’ve brought him.

“Where are we?”

“My home.” You tell him, resuming the cleaning of his face. “Or it used to be.”

You gently massage away the grime from his skin. The blood caked on his scratches and cuts require a bit more pressure but you’re as gentle as can be.

While you work, he takes it in. Your once home.

It’s small. Only one room, slightly smaller than his study back in Broklin.

The floor is made of aged wood that creaks as you shift on your knees to reach the far side of his neck.

There are small holes and cracks, moldy spots of green in one corner. In another a vibrant yellow weed pokes through from the ground below.

The wattle walls have been painted to attempt a brighter interior. The paint is scarce. He can see how you tried your best to make this little room a home.

The windows, all without panes of glass and only shutters to keep out the cold in winter, have begun to crumble and splinter. A vine has begun to take over, weaving it’s way in and up into the leaky thatched roof.

“Sorry about the water. It started raining while I was in the village.” You explain and his eyes hone in on you.

“You went out alone?” He demands, fear beginning to grab hold.

“Just for a little bit.” You stop your cleaning, meeting his fretful gaze with what he knows now is a stubborn will to be independent. “I needed to get some food and clean scraps for your wounds.”

Steve frowns, hating that you'd gone anywhere without him.

He reaches up to place his hand along your left cheek, caressing your skin until his finger finds a small three inch pucker across your cheek bone.

“You’re hurt.” He hates it. He hates it so much his stomach begins to bubble with bile.

“It’s just a scratch, Steve.” You shake your head, then lean towards him again to resume your cleaning. “Luckily my old sewing box was still in the cupboard. I tended your wound as best I could but we should get it looked at properly.

“I don’t want you getting an infection.” You sigh.

Steve’s turns towards the cupboard beside the small table by the fire you’ve got going. There’s an old rusty pot resting just beyond, handle broken.

All of your furniture, including this bed that he’s laying on is of the poorest quality. With you gone and without your care, even though it’s been under a year, it has fallen into disrepair.

“I won’t.” Steve assures you, looking at the sewing box by your legs, resting on the tattered skirts if your once fine dress.

“That won’t work on me, Steve. You’re seeing a doctor as soon as we’re with father.” You frown.

“No.” He shakes his head, looking at your stubborn pout.

He could kiss you. He loves the way you are bot afraid to challenge him or show you care. You love him so openly. With no fear.

He’s never known this kind of love. Freely given with no thought of restraint.

“I mean, I can’t catch an infection.” Steve explains. “I’m already healing. Even my fever is already gone.”

You almost dive towards his cheeks, hand thrown out to feel his temperature. You press your little—well, little to him—palm against his forehead and wait.

Steve can’t help but love you in every moment that you are by his side.

Especially now as you teeter over him, face screwed up with concerned concentration. You’re a mess. Like him.

Skin broken in small places from rocks and the falls you took. Hair completely disheveled. Your crown, the smaller one he’d had made for your outdoor events, is gone. Lost somewhere in the crowd and amongst the fight.

He doesn’t dare bring it to your attention.

His eyes naturally follow the curve of your throat down to your chest, and then finally your stomach.

His calm glee at your fussing quickly fades as the small swell of your stomach—more noticeable to him day after day—grabs hold of his attention completely.

With two hands he cups the bump, wondering if he might somehow know how the little prince is in your belly. His son.

“How are you feeling?” He checks, meeting your gaze which calms as you sit back onto your ankles and place your hands over his.

“He’s alright.” You stroke his fingers, a gesture of comfort. “I was a little worried while we were walking. After the carriage flipped over, I didn’t feel him for a while, but he did wiggle a bit as we walked here.”

Steve feels a rush of relief, grateful to you for always being your shared son’s protector. He knows how much you love him already.

“That’s not what I asked.” Steve clarifies, eyebrows raised high as he waits.

“I’m fine, Steve. A little tired. Achy but that’s to be expected after today. And very worried.” You sigh, shoulders rising high and dropping low as you slouch with the weight of your grief.

Steve knows what you’re thinking about, because he’s been thinking about it too.

He thought about how far he needed to get you away from the city. And Bucky. He thought about his son and his health. And Bucky. He worried about his friends. And Bucky. He wished he could do more for the innocents he’d left behind. And Bucky.

“They’ll have subdued him by now.” Steve promises.

“How do you know? He was so…so lethal, Steve. I’ve never seen him like that. How is it even possible?”

Steve takes a slow breath, knowing that it’s time for this story. He would have preferred for Bucky to tell you himself, but this time…he’ll have to make an exception.

“There’s something you should know about Bucky.” He begins, but you nod.

“This has to do with him being taken a few years ago?” You offer, entirely more knowledgeable than he’d expected you to be. You never cease to amaze him. He shouldn’t be surprised.

You’re smart as a whip. Perhaps not by a Lady’s standards, but you know more than anyone knows. You’re observant and your common sense and instinct is unparalleled.

If you weren’t so important to him, so precious; if you weren’t his only love and the mother of his child, he would recruit you onto the team and find a way to make you impervious to harm.

Maybe find a witch to bewitch you the way they’d done him or even Peter.

“How do you-?”

“The other day when Nat and I spent some time together alone, she alluded to a story. She didn’t tell me, but she said she would. Later.” You explain and Steve can see the resignation of your all too special patience.

“I suppose it’s later.” Steve nods. “A few years ago, Bucky, Nat, Clint, and I were on a quest to find one of the secret Hydra camps in the Southern forests. The deep south. In the elder wood.”

He watches as you bring out your feet from under you and settle on the floor. He hates it, you on the hard surface while he’s on the soft bed…but if he asks you to sit with him, you’ll argue.

“He was gone for weeks. Nat was inconsolable. Clint did what he could but eventually they had to move on. They had things to attend to. Responsibilities. Thor had to go back to Asgard, Tony had to help Pepper run his own Kingdom, and although I—I should have gone back to ruling Broklin, but I couldn’t give up.

“Nat and I kept searching. How could we stop looking? Bucky is…he was my only remaining family. And for Nat…well, it would be like when I lost you. Knowing you’re out there with no way of knowing whether you’re safe, only we knew that Bucky wasn’t.”

“This was after Margaret’s death?” You probe carefully, fearful it seems in upsetting him.

He’s driven that fear into you and it upsets him that you feel you can’t be open with him about Margaret. It’s his own fault.

Steve nods. “Only just. It was so fresh. Her death…and I was grateful for the distraction; however painful it was. The thought of losing Bucky too after everything with Maggie…I couldn’t stand it. I was determined in finding him. As was Nat.”

Steve can almost sense his own desperation again. It was just as bad as when you were missing. He ignores the ache in his chest at both memories and instead presses on, pushing those bad times out of his mind.

You’re here, attentive and precious in front of him. He won’t waste another moment on the thought of you anywhere but at his side.

“When we finally found him, he’d been strapped to a wooden bed with no mattress in the lowest level of a ruined castle. It was damp but hot, as we were farther South than I’d ever been. Although Natasha knew the territory well and we were able to search it with ease thanks to her expertise.

“For the most part, Bucky seemed fine. He was a little tired when we pulled him out of that wretched cell, but he was happy to be with Natasha again.

“His arm…it was gone. Replaced by the one he has now. When we asked him what had happened to it, he said that he didn’t remember and that it did hurt, but not as much as he might have thought it would to lose an arm.”

“Weren’t any of you worried about what they’d done to him?” You ask in shock, voice tight and whispered. Steve can only guess at what has you so spooked but he’s certain it’s the loss of Bucky’s arm. Here was no grand tale of him losing it in battle.

One day it was there, the next it was gone.

“Yes. Of course. Nat and I more than the others because we couldn’t understand why they would take him only to do that to his arm. So, we kept a very close eye on him. We secluded him to one room in the castle with guards at his door day and night.

“Tony was also very suspicious. Only Tony…Tony wanted to do more than just keep an eye on him.” Steve says, voice dropping low and his eyes going dark at the memory of Tony’s panic, the fear in his eyes as he looked at Bucky laying unconscious as he recovered.

A perceived threat. But to Steve, it was Bucky. His friend and brother. Like hell he was going to let anyone hurt him any more than he’d already been injured.

As Steve can’t fight his anger, with his brow furrowed, you seem to realize suddenly that this must have been what drove your Father and Steve apart. This was what had needed your marriage to bridge the divide in their relationship.

“He wanted to lock him up permanently.” You say, not surprised one bit, but a little disappointed? “Or worse…”

As Steve’s gaze meets yours, you read his eyes like no one else in his life can and realize that Tony had actually tried to do something about it, not simply wanted to.

“What did he do?” You barely manage to say.

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, I fought for Bucky. Nat did too. We were split, though Thor and Bruce weren’t there for the fallout, everyone else was.

“Peter was the only one who managed to balance both sides even though he initially fought with Tony. He realized what this would mean and helped mediate a stop to our quarrel. At least for a while.

“Tony and I didn’t speak again until we arranged a marriage between Morgana and myself with the full intention of having it end before we could ever truly consummate the marriage. That’s where you came in.” Steve sighs, feeling a surge of gratitude for you.

He doesn’t even plan for it to happen, but his voice becomes softer as he reaches out to stroke the curve of your chin. Caressing you whenever he has the chance. How long will you allow him to show you his affections?

He cannot be touching you always, despite his desire to do so. He must maintain some form of decorum in front of his friends and subjects.

However, here in the dimly lit home of your past, he can be as free with his love as he pleases.

You catch his hand and release a held breath, looking appeased and happy to feel the heat of his skin, just as he relishes in yours.

“So, Bucky never showed any signs of mental manipulation until today?” You wonder.

“No. Nothing until today. When nothing happened, we assumed he was fine.” Steve sighs heavily, the weight of his fight with Bucky weighing heavy on his shoulders. Had he missed some sort of clue? Had there been an indicator of what was to come? Had he been blind because of how close he was with Bucky. “It’s been more than two years…”

As if that might ease his strife. It doesn’t. It only makes him worry that maybe there is more to come. What if it isn’t over? What if they’ve turned his friend into someone dangerous permanently?

Steve pulls you a little closer and you shift for him, moving where he wants you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He isn’t satisfied until you’re right against his side, your hands pressed against his chest where your fingers take to restlessly twitching against the loose threads of his shirt.

He watches you, so grateful that you’re safe. You’re as lost in thought as he is. Reliving the terrible day just as he is, no doubt.

Steve’s arm tightens again, and you look up to meet his eyes. Your own worry seems to dissipate as you see the stress in his.

As much as he loves Bucky. He can’t help but think how close he came to taking you from him today. How easily his life might have changed again. For the worse.

With a small quiet sigh, you reach up towards his cheek and begin to wipe at the smudged dirt there but stop after two swipes, eyes going wide as you stare into Steve’s storm blues.

“What?” Steve asks, seeing the shift in your expression. “What’s the matter?”

“I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think it was important.” You begin, and Steve can hardly breathe.

“Didn’t tell me what, flower?” He coaxes, adjusting on the bed to sit up a little straighter.

“I…I think I know what happened. What set Bucky off today.” Steve begins to speak but you’re quick to shake your head to silence him and he obeys you, shushing if that is what you wish. “I didn’t think it was real. I was just waking up in the carriage when I saw it. I was drifting in and out, but I found it odd and even asked father about it.”

Steve’s impatience begins to prod at him, but he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet for you.

“Now that I think about it, I didn’t see him any other time except for that moment.” You shake your head, shutting your eyes as you struggle to pull the image together in your mind it looks like, so Steve reaches up to cup your cheek.

“Tell me.” He pleads gently, forced but willing.

When you meet his eyes again, he can see the terror there but also the absolute certainty.

“I saw Lord Pierce across the square, getting out of a carriage. Bucky was there with him. Looking upset, I think. Then Lord Pierce leaned in and whispered something into Bucky’s ear.

“He went a little stiff, his face went blank, but then I must have gone under for a moment and when I opened my eyes, Bucky was gone. Lord Pierce was gone too.

“Even then, my heart was racing. I knew that what I saw wasn’t good, but I could have been dreaming it. And when I asked father if Lord Pierce was in attendance at the procession, he said that he wasn’t. That he’d made sure to exclude him purposely. So, I put it out of my mind.”

Steve’s hands are claws against your back, the rage within him is nearly choking. He wants to scream. To destroy. If he weren’t injured, he might have even torn your house apart with his bare hands.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, he assumes because you can feel his upset.

“No.” He manages to say, voice deep and quaking with his anger. “No, Y/N. You did right to tell me now. I don’t blame you.”

“But I should have said something.” You fret.

Steve looks down at your belly, the agony of almost having lost both of you today eats at him and helps calm him. It levels him out and he breathes in slowly, then releases the breath but pulls you to him in a soft embrace.

“You’re safe.” He shuts his eyes, really letting himself feel you there in his arms. He trails one hand down to rest on your stomach, tracing the shape of the small curve. “You both are. That’s all that matters.”

“What does this mean for the kingdom? For Lord Pierce? For Bucky?” You ask him, looking to him for a response to this new crisis.

Steve doesn’t often feel as if he is a king with people who depend on him.

Though he knows that he does indeed have a responsibility to his people, he doesn’t often feel as if he’s looked on for leadership. Those moments when someone is truly waiting for him to make a decision.

In your eyes he sees devotion and respect. He sees a genuine intention to follow. And yet he knows that even with this willingness, you would easily disagree with him if you felt it were important.

Everyday you are proving to him that you are not only the woman he loves, but the Queen he has needed at his side.

With you beside him, he truly feels as though he could rule his Kingdom with confidence, with grace, and with a will to do better. For you. For his son. And for all of the people who depend on him.

“I will issue a warrant for his arrest.” Steve declares, confident in his decision. “I will state his crimes clearly so that everyone may see what a snake he is. It will ruin his name and he will have no choice but to either turn himself in for trial or run.”

“What if he runs?”

“Then we will follow.” He nods. “He’ll pay for what he did to Bucky. He’ll pay for what he’s done to you.”

You lift your chin, filled with what he hopes is belief that he can do it. That he can bring Pierce to his knees.

“No one hurts my family and gets away with it.” Steve declares. “No one.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you doing?!” Natasha shouts, shoving herself between Tony and Bucky, fully intent on punching if the need should arise.

The beautiful pale stones of Tony’s castle are a stark contrast to the horrors on the bed behind her.

Natasha glances back at Bucky, wary of the amount of blood he’s losing from the countless wounds to his torso.

What tortures her further is the knowledge that she was the one that put three of those stabs into his side.

She’d been careful to avoid his most sensitive spots, but after he’d woken up on the way home, he’d tried to fight his way out.

It took a hard hit from Tony to the back of the head to knock him out completely and he hasn’t woken up since.

“I need to remove the metal of his arm.” Tony replies exasperated with Natasha’s meddling.

“I needs to wait.” She says.

“It can’t. Bruce said I need to remove it immediately. He’ll have to treat that wound too to prevent infection.

Natasha licks her lips, her green eyes blazing with fear.

“Nat…Let me fix him.” Tony pleads.

“I don’t trust you.” Nat replies, brow crinkling with distrust.

“I know.” And Tony can’t blame her. He’d made a bad impression the first time Bucky had shown up altered. Now here is the results of what he’d always feared but he knows better now about what he’s willing to lose by taking certain precautions.

Bucky is irreplaceable to Natasha and Steve. He must respect that if he’s going to keep not only you but the team in his life.

“But you have to.” Tony argues, holding his hands out for her, his tools held tight as he waits for her to move.

Natasha turns around to look at Bucky once more, her face contorted with indecision and grief and reluctantly moves aside.

Tony lunges for Bucky and works quickly on his arm while Natasha cuts away Bucky’s clothing to tend to his other various wounds.

~~~~~~~~~~

“He’s stable for now.” Bruce declares, wrapping up Bucky’s arm recess where before there’d been shredded metal.

“Will he wake?” Tony asks, trying to keep his voice down for Natasha’s sake.

She’s only just fallen asleep, sitting in a large cushioned chair with a high back. Her hand firmly wrapped around Bucky’s scuffed up right hand.

“What did you give her?” Bruce asks, ignoring Tony’s question for a moment as he also looks to Nat to see her sleeping so peacefully.

“Just one of Agatha’s herbs. She’s a witch with herbs.”

“Or just a witch.” Bruce says quietly, fixing Tony with a wary look.

“I’ve been thinking so too. But she’s devoted to keeping Y/N safe so she’s a good one, as far as I’m concerned.” Tony moves to the wall to pull the call. Somewhere in the castle, he’s sure a bell rings.

“She’s going to be upset when she wakes.” Bruce points out.

“She needs the rest. Thor, Clint, and Peter are out searching. Sam has gone back to Broklin in case they head that way.” Tony assures his friend. “We’ll find them.”

“Y/N is going to be upset that you’ve got Sharon helping Samuel.” Bruce teases, a small awkward smile playing on his lips.

“She’ll deal with it. Finding them is most important right now. Not jealousy.” Tony argues.

Bruce huffs a small laugh, turning to seal Bucky’s bandage before checking on the wounds that Nat had tended to just to be sure they were sealed well.

“You are aware that Sharon snuck into Steve’s room to try and seduce him, and your daughter caught them in bed together, right?” Bruce asks, turning a knowing look to his friend.

Tony blinks, hands clasped at his front before he begins to fix his shirt.

“I am now.” Tony admits. “I’m sure she didn’t let them get away with it. And they seem fine now.”

Mind racing with what might have happened after finding Steve and Sharon like that, he resolves to give Steve a scolding when he sees him.

When. He will find you both if it’s the last thing he does.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks, voice groggy from sleep.

You’re uncurling from his side, moving to his removed tunic to rifle along the front at his expensive baubles and medals.

“To get us some food and something less conspicuous to wear. We don’t know if we’re being pursued. We must lay low.”

“And going into the village to buy things isn’t the opposite of laying low?” Steve asks.

You shake your head. “I’ll only be half an hour and I know the people here. They won’t hurt me.”

Most of them…

“Let me go.” Steve begins to get up, but you frown when he groans.

“No.” You insist, moving to him with a handful of jewels and silver.

You push him back down onto the bed and fix the ratty blanket you’d used to use over him.

“Stop arguing with me.” You chastise him. “I’ll be faster. You’re still wounded.”

“I don’t like you going out there alone.” Steve argues.

“Steven, please. Don’t fight me on this. I will be as quick as I possibly can. I’ll be as invisible as I was before I left. You’ll see. No one will pay me any mind. I was an insignificant orphan. No one will care that I’m here.” You assure him.

“You’re Queen of Broklin.” Steve argues. “And you look like her now, whatever you may think. You don’t look like the girl that came to my castle nearly a year ago.”

“What do I look like then?” You wonder, stripping off your dress before pulling on an old ratty set that you’d had here in the house from before.

It’s thin and meant for summer. Does little to shield the cold but it’s better than your regal, however torn up it might be, gown.

“Even in that you look like an angel.” Steve says.

You can’t help it. You laugh.

“Don’t you think you’re a little biased?” You ask him.

He frowns at you.

“Steve, I’ll be fine.” You move back to him and he welcomes you despite the terrible clothes you’re wearing.

He pulls you in suddenly, no warning as he kisses you hard.

You gasp, hands tense on his shoulders as his lips crush yours painfully.

When he pulls away, he does so slowly, his kiss shifting into tenderness.

“What-?”

“Please be cautious. Don’t talk to anyone that you don’t have to. Turn my cloak inside out and take it. I will not have you and our child freezing.” He worries.

“Why weren’t you this annoying when we first got married?” You tease him and he shuts his eyes, head falling forward to rest against your chest.

You chuckle and stroke his dirty hair, smoothing it out despite the blood and grime still caked into it.

“Please be safe.” He begs, looking up at you again. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, Y/N.”

“You’d go on. Because you’re strong. And you have a whole Kingdom that depends on you.”

Steve sighs. “I don’t want to be rational. I’d gladly follow you into the end.”

“Then I guess I’d better not meet my end.” You decide.

Getting up, you move to his cloak and turn it inside out as he wished. It’s plain gray on the underside. Still a fine fabric but less ostentatious in its stitching. It makes it much warmer in this clothing and it smells like Steve still.

“Stay quiet.” You tell him, then pick up his shield and put it beside him. “I’ll be right back.”

You slip out into the early morning freeze. The wheat fields are barren and give you no cover as you trek across the cold semi-frozen mud. It sticks to your shoes, much too nice for the plain peasant dress you’re wearing but with the cloak they’re somewhat hidden.

You’re tired by the time you reach the edge of the village and take shelter in the smithy’s doorway. He’s already open, an older man who had tried his best to ignore your hunger plight often. Many of the wealthier villagers had made the very conscious decision to pretend you didn’t exist.

You can’t blame them. You were a child in need of care and many of them, though richer than you, still struggled to make ends meet. They had no way of caring for a whole other mouth to feed.

He’s working inside, too busy making his living to care that you’re resting on his doorstep.

It takes you fifteen minutes to walk across the village make your purchase with only a somewhat lingering look from the tailor who must be the only one to notice your absence in the village as you’d always been a bit of a pain to.

You had offered to mend clothing at a cheaper cost and so stole most of her mending business.

“Haven’t seen you around here.” She states, wrapping up your new dress and the clothing and shoes you’ve purchased for Steve.

“I’ve been travelling.” You say quickly. Offering no further explanation.

“You look different.” She says, pushing the parcel over the counter towards you.

Fucking Steve.

“Do I?” You take the package and throw a silver pin on the counter worth six times as much as she’s charging you for the clothes.

Her eyes go wide at the sight, but you don’t wait for her to say anything and instead leave as quickly as you entered.

You buy some food from the bake, just something to tide you both over until you can go hunt something up and pay with a small ruby.

You’re gone before he can respond to the payment.

With both errands out of the way, you make your way back towards your cottage, eager to be back by Steve’s side.

Your trek is quick across the barren fields, pace increasing the closer you get.

It’s just beyond this slope, beyond the windmill.

As you curve around it, smile stretching your lips, you gasp as a large stocky man blocks your way.

Your free hand drops to your stomach protectively as your eyes take in the only threat to you in this village.

“Well, hello, hello, hello. If it ain’t tha little mouse.” He says.

As you take in his pale skin, a messy array of vibrant red curls on his head, your mind provides you with several excruciating memories of his large beefy body pinning you against the tavern wall. His hands tearing away at your clothing. Ripping your skin as angry tears stained your cheeks.

Both times you’d been able to fight him off. You’d been lucky.

As he devours you with his eyes, you can see the wheels in his mind turning.

“You’ve been gone a long time, little mouse.” He grins. “I’ve missed you.”

[were-all-idjits-here]

Still Alive, Part III: Now We Hunt

Summary: While watching the season 7 finale of Supernatural, you’re zapped from your world to a world where everything that happened in the show is real. Sam’s real. Dean’s real. Monsters are real. And so is Purgatory–where Dean’s currently trapped, unbeknownst to Sam. Frustrated by Sam’s lack of trust and motivation, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, cursing

A/N: the final part of this series. Thank you guys for your patience while I wrote this. Been recovering from burnout due to a toxic work environment, so that’s been making this a bit difficult writing-wise. But hope you all enjoy!

~~Read here on AO3~~

Birds trilled in the trees overhead. The breeze caused the evening light to dance through the forest as you stared at an unassuming spot on the ground. This was where Dean would emerge—whenever he emerged. But who knew how long that would take? You had already wasted a full day and night going to Target and stocking your new backpack full of supplies, getting a full night’s sleep (if things went bad, who knew when you’d have a chance to be well rested again?) and finding transportation all the way from the motel near Amelia and Sam’s to this specific spot. Then nearly another full day to get here. You’d tried to be careful and took out as much cash from Sam’s credit card as you could, but who knew how fast he would track you down?

You sighed and shouldered your backpack full of supplies as you trudged back to the motel you were staying at. It was nearing dark and you didn’t want to be caught out here after the sun set. Plus, you had to figure out a way to contact Dean so you knew how close he was to escaping Purgatory. About 30 minutes later, you let your backpack fall to the floor with a thud, pulling out your new laptop and opening your browser. The library in both towns you’d stayed in weren’t very helpful in figuring out how to astral project without being on top of old lingering magics. The second night you’d stayed at the first motel unfortunately didn’t render anymore visions of Dean. But after some Googling, you had found a YouTube link reading “Astral Projection Music *VERY STRONG*” that would hopefully at least point you in the right direction.

You settled onto your bed and took a deep breath before clicking the link. Ambient music with some strange undertones you couldn’t describe engulfed the motel room. You leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes. You weren’t sure how long it took, but you felt yourself falling asleep. Your last thought before succumbing was a sinking feeling of disappointment as you realized this music would probably give you the best night of sleep of your life at best.

“Son of a bitch!” a rough voice barked in your ear.

You jumped and snapped upright to smack right into someone’s forehead. “Ow,” you muttered, rubbing at the spot that was sure to bruise later. You jumped as you saw Dean’s face just inches from yours doing the same. “Shit, it worked.”

“You sure you’re not a witch?” Dean asked. He was sprawled out on the ground next to you on top of his jacket, eyes bleary and hair sticking up every which way. You’d have laughed if you weren’t in Purgatory. The sky was darker than the first time you’d visited and the campfire was slowly dwindling. It looked to be a different clearing than last time; this time, he was near a stream, with two other jackets spread out around the fire.

“Um, no,” you replied. “Would’ve given a lot of assholes back home a good scare if I was. Did you find Cas and Benny?”

Dean groaned as he sat up. “Yeah. Benny’s hunting and Cas went further down the river to see if he could figure out which way this portal is.”

“You’ve got the spell ready for Benny?”

“Yep.”

“You found them fast. It’s only been a few days.”

Dean shrugged. “Benny wasn’t too far behind you. Or maybe you showing up changed things. He says he’s gonna take us to the portal tomorrow.”

“Good. What time?”

“No idea. We’re gonna start out first thing in the morning and get there as fast as we can. But make sure you tell Sam—”

You cleared your throat and looked away awkwardly, picking some dirt out from underneath your fingernails. You sighed and steeled yourself. Better to just rip the band-aid off quickly. “I’m alone, Dean.”

Dean stared at you with a blank expression for several moments.

Before he could cut in, you continued, “He won’t be catching up to me, either. He still doesn’t believe me and dumped my situation onto another hunter that was supposed to show up at the old motel I was staying at.” You inhaled deeply. You didn’t like telling him this, but better he knew everything upfront. As big of a fan of the show as you were, you knew how he reacted to secrets. “He…seems pretty convinced you’re dead and there’s no bringing you back this time.”

Dean shifted his still blank gaze to the dying flames. “What about Kevin?”

“I don’t think he and Sam have been in contact. From what I know of the show and judging by Sam’s reaction when I brought it up, Kevin’s been trying to get a hold of him and Sam just hasn’t been answering.”

“What?” Dean looked angry now and you bit your lip, unsure how to continue. You spread your hands in an irritated gesture instead. “You’re 100% positive about all this?”

“Yes.”

“How—”

A loud crashing noise broke you out of your sleep and you cursed under your breath. You glanced around the room—now shrouded in darkness—to see that your backpack had fallen off the end table from where you’d precariously balanced it just before nodding off. The astral projection music no longer played and your laptop screen was dark, making it impossible to know how long ago it had stopped. You wiggled your mouse to see the clock read six in the morning. You weren’t sure how early Dean, Benny and Cas were planning on starting out, or if time even flowed the same in Purgatory. You quickly shot up, stuffed all your spilled belongings and laptop back into your backpack and made your way out of the safety of the motel and into the woods.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sighed as you plopped down on the ground in the very same spot you’d stood at earlier, wondering how in the fuck you had even gotten yourself here. The campers who had originally been here in the show—and subsequently been scared shitless by Dean—trudged off in the distance, grumbling distantly as the bob of their flashlight receded further into the woods. You felt bad for pulling all the asshole-ery you did to make them move, but this really was the best spot to look out for Dean. The sky was beginning to get lighter and the sounds of the breeze and waking birds made you want to nod off again. You did your best to resist, but as the minutes ticked by with no sign of Dean, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you were jolted awake by a loud bang and a blinding white light that forced you to close your eyes again. You breathed a sigh of relief upon opening them and realizing you were still in the woods and not back in your living room. You scrambled to your feet as the figure in front of you did the same, holding your knife out in front of you awkwardly. You stared wide-eyed at the tall, green eyes and dirty face of Dean Winchester. He seemed frozen with his gun pointed at you. You scrambled for something to say but came up short, feeling equally stuck with your knife out in front of you.

“Holy shit, you’re real,” you both muttered at the same time.

You heard the safety of Dean’s gun click as he slowly lowered it, tucking it into the waistband of his pants. He looked around, his shoulders just barely slumping as he realized you really were alone. He turned his attention back to you and raised an eyebrow. “Did you help me escape Purgatory just to shank me as soon as I got out?”

“What?” You felt some of the tension leave your body and realized you were still holding your knife out in front of you. “Oh, sorry.” You tucked it back into the sheath that was attached to your pants leg, noting for the first time the glowing blue light shining from Dean’s forearm.

He followed your eyes before making his way past you. “Wait here,” he mumbled, squeezing your shoulder as he went by. You felt a small thrill go through you at the contact before plopping back down next to your backpack. You watched as he disappeared through the foliage, knowing Benny was waiting for freedom. You sat and watched the sun come up through the trees and breathed a sigh. Even sitting in these woods with no home, no job, not even a guarantee that you’d be alive this time next month, felt better than the despair that had constantly engulfed you in your shitty apartment. You felt like you were finally where you were meant to be. Just being around Dean gave you more of a feeling of home than you’d ever had. You rested your head on your knees, hoping what came next was three days of sleep. You were mentally exhausted after everything that had happened.

A hand gently shook your shoulder and looked up to see Dean crouched next to you, his arm now bandaged. You hadn’t even heard him coming. “Thanks, kid,” he said, looking just as tired as you felt. “You got a motel room near here?”

“Yeah,” you replied, gathering your legs under you. Dean stood, offering his hand. Another small thrill ran through you as you took it and Dean seemed surprised as well. You stood and stared at each other for a minute, hands still clasped. Although he looked worse for wear, you knew he’d been through worse. His green eyes weren’t as intense as before and all the energy seemed to bleed out of him as he sighed, closing his eyes before giving your hand a final squeeze. Your trance broke and you let go, leading him through the woods to your motel room.

Once away from any prying eyes, you ordered food while he showered. Although you hadn’t done anything to warrant a shower, hot water sounded divine and felt even better. You emerged from the bathroom and sighed in contentment, laughing when you noticed Dean scarfing down a hamburger while trying to fit several fries in his mouth at once. “You’re gonna choke.”

“Ihf hambuwgew ih how Ah go, ih how Ah go,” he replied around a mouthful of food, several morsels of hamburger meat falling out of his mouth in the process. He made an “mm” of surprise, quickly picking them back off his shirt and plopping them back in his still-full mouth.

You shook your head and smiled as you sat down across from him. “Is mine still there—oh, wow, it is.”

“Ah diden loof all my manners in Puwgatowy.”

You gave him a look. “You didn’t have manners before Purgatory.”

“Ey! Littlew shit.”

You laughed and although Dean’s mouth was far too full of food to smile, his green eyes danced with mirth for what was likely the first time since Purgatory. You sat in companionable silence as you dug into your own burger, just enjoying the quiet. It was suddenly interrupted by a loud GULP from Dean and you burst out laughing. “I wish I was getting you on video right now.”

“I’m glad you’re not. Okay, but listen, I’ve got something serious to say—buuuuuuurrrrrppppp.”

You threw your head back and cackled, feeling tears start to leak from your eyes.

“Shut up, kid, I’m starving!”

“I can tell,” you laughed, meeting Dean’s eyes once again. Despite the sternness in his tone, he was smiling as well. You should’ve felt nervous—you had always had a bit of a crush on Dean, although you liked Sam well enough—but everything just felt easy with the older Winchester.

“But seriously,” Dean continued as both your smiles and laughter faded, “thank you. Benny got out and Cas…um…” He went quiet, his face going solemn and his hand squeezing into a fist on the table.

“I watch the show,” you replied just as quietly. “I know. You don’t have to say anything.”

Dean nodded his thanks and you gently covered his fist to squeeze his hand. He uncurled his fingers and linked them through yours to give another quick squeeze. To your surprise, he didn’t let go and if he didn’t want to, who were you to leave him hanging? You glanced up to find him staring at you, both of you quickly looking away. Your fingers were still entwined and only separated at a series of loud, sharp knocks on the door.

Dean’s face quickly morphed in the same anger you’d seen on the show many times during hunts. “You expecting anyone?” he asked lowly.

“No,” you replied. The two of you quietly got up in tandem and without even speaking, you drew your knife and hid behind the door as Dean pulled his gun from his waistband. The click of the safety sounded deafening in the silence as the knocking continued. You held your breath as Dean slowly unlocked the door before throwing it open with his gun pointed at the intruder.

“Y/N—” you recognized Sam’s angry voice which was suddenly cut short as he saw who stood in the doorway. From behind the door, you saw water suddenly splash onto Dean’s face. He blinked and pursed his lips before wiping the water away from his eyes.

“Hiya, Sammy,” he said, his face a mixture of relief, warmth and resentment. He stepped away from the door to let his brother in.

Sam stared at Dean in shock as he closed the door behind him. The sound of your knife going back into the sheath drew his attention to you, the look on his face making it impossible to tell if he was more annoyed you’d disobeyed orders or impressed that you’d brought Dean back by yourself.

You glanced between the two brothers for a moment before gesturing to the door. “I’ll give you two a minute.” You slipped out and made your way to the vending machine near your room. After scouring the snacks had bored you, you pulled out your phone to look through your meagre contact list. Mainly supervisors, coworkers and a few acquaintances who wouldn’t miss you. The feeling was mutual. You couldn’t deny the satisfaction that ran through you as you deleted everyone’s number but Sam’s. Hopefully, Dean’s would soon be added to the list. You perked up at the thought.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps. Sam Winchester slumped towards you, complete with hands in his pockets and a sheepish look on his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Sam,” you said, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of your tone.

“Look, um…” he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve at least looked into it more.”

You sighed. “Well, he’s here now, so…guess that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah…” He sighed. “Dean said he’s gonna train you to be a hunter. You’re 100% sure this is what you want? Lee said he can still get you back home if you want.”

“I’m 110% sure, Sam. I’m not going back there. It was never home for me.”

Sam exhaled sharply once more, glancing over at the now busy street.

“You’re setting a world record for sighing,” you said. “Trust me. This is what I want. If I get myself killed, I’ll only haunt you a little bit, I promise.”

Sam chuckled before nodded. “All right, then. I have to go home to Amelia. I think she’s starting to suspect that something’s up. But Dean’s still in there,” he gestured to the hotel, “and I’ll be seeing you around.”

“What are you gonna tell her?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully I will know by the time I get back home—and thank you for saving my brother.”

You nodded. “Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you too. You still have my number if you need anything?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you, keep you updated on where I am.”

Sam smiled, pulling you into a quick hug. “Welcome to the life.”

You snorted. “Thanks.”

Sam gave you a half smile and waved as he trudged back to the Impala. Dean emerged from the room and made his way over to Sam, holding his hand out. Sam dropped Baby’s keys in his brother’s hand as what you assumed was an uber pulled into the parking lot, idling in front of Sam. Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment before embracing one last time. Once Sam climbed in, the uber sped off and you made your way back over to Dean. He gently caressed Baby’s paint before turning to you.

“What now?” you asked.

He smirked. “Now, we hunt.”

Tag list: @totallyluciferr @dr7girl @pillowjj

[opossumanonymous]

Dead Silent part 2

Warnings: blood but nothing excessive

Izuku somethings wrong here but I can't figure out what..

W̴̬͈͊̓͛h̵̛̳̲̪͓̹͆y̸̖̖̟̯͌̉͛̓͜ ̷̙̖̇̄͜d̷͍͔̭̭̊̌͠i̷̧̲̝̫͚̒͑̔d̶̦͙͆̏̆̀ṅ̷̛͇̦̈́͝'̷̘̾̎t̵̮̩̩̝͂̆͠ ̷͚͐̕ý̵͎̣̬̳̜̎̆̅ȏ̷̢̮͉̤͚̀̓͂͝u̸̺͖̍̿͂͝͝ ̷̼̟͚̇̄͛ȓ̸͕̟̉ȕ̵͔̜̺̥̮̈̊n̸̢̳̝̗̣̐̅͑̕?̷̡͈͍̊̎̍̚

Ahh well Izukus probably okay....

*******************************************************

"T̶̙̃h̵̖͊a̷̠̓n̵̙̏k̴͔͋ ̷̙͘y̸̧͐o̵̬̓ȕ̵͉ ̷̟̓f̸̦̈o̷̳͊r̵̦̎ ̸͉̑ĺ̴͉e̸͕̚t̴͕̿t̵̮͛ȉ̴̫ṉ̴̋g̸̞͊ ̸̪͑ŭ̸̻š̸͕ ̸̳͘i̵̠̐n̴̩̄ ̶̹̈́l̵͕͑i̶͇͝t̶̪͝t̸̹̊l̶͉̆ȇ̴͖ ̷̞̋ọ̵̍n̵̯̊e̷͔͘."

Blood poured out of his mouth, nose, and ears in thick red rivers.

He blacked out feeling himself fall before he sat up again.

His eyes wide as he frantically looked around his room.

Wait what? His room?

But he passed out at the front door he shouldn't be in his room....

He was though, the various All Might posters staring at him with the heros iconic phrase "I Am Here" printed on it proved he was in his room.

Looking down he noticed there was no blood on his pajamas not even a drop.

Touching his face there was only a little eye crust, no blood to his relief, which he wiped off.

Maybe it was all just a nightmare, a horribly realistic nightmare but just a nightmare nonetheless.

He breathed out and in trying to catch his breath again telling himself it was all just a dream.

Wiping the sweat off his brow he let out a little laugh at himself for being so dramatic.

There was no monster it was only a dream.

Knọ̷̮̻͈̰̟͓̬̪̙̞̲͈̖̞͍̹̖͔̦͎̤̄̀̇̀͌̉̀̐͐͂̀̊͐̌̐́̐͆̕̚͜c̶̢̛͚̟͙͎̻͓̩̘̩̩͙̱͖̞̖͉͔͈̟͈͙̩͍̜͙͚͐̉͆͆͗̉̏͒͘͜͠͝ͅͅk̸̢̧̡̧̛̲̬̞͈̳̬̮̳͖̫̼̦̩̣̩͍͍̲͚̗͙͚͈̔̇̍̇̋͐̌̈́͑́̚͜͝ͅ

A knock at his door nearly made him fall off his bed in shock. As his mother poked her head in, green hair a mess as she smiled at him.

"Izuku come on breakfast is ready!"

Nodding at her he watched as she left to give the teen some time to collect himself. After a minute he got up and left his room heading down the stairs as he heard his mom call for him again.

"I'm coming mo-"

He started but stopped as he looked at the pale blue haired teen sitting at the kitchen table playing with a DS.

"Mom who's that?" He asked confused, the boy now looked up his red eyes piercing as he held the DS with his pinkys up.

"What don't recognize me green bean?" The boy spoke in a raspy voice like he hadn't had water in years.

With his cracked pale skin,a mole under his lip and bluish white hair that touched his shoulders he looked like....Tenko?

B̸u̶t̶ ̸t̸h̷a̸t̶'̶s̷ ̸n̶o̸t̸ ̷p̵o̸s̵s̸i̵b̸l̶e̸ ̷T̶e̸n̵k̴o̴s̸ ̵d̷e̵a̵d̵...

"Oh Tomura sweetie you know how disoriented Izu gets in the morning."

I̶z̴u̶k̶u̶ ̶s̶a̴w̶ ̴h̵i̶m̷ ̷i̵n̸ ̶h̵i̵s̶ ̵c̵o̵f̸f̵i̴n̸ ̶a̶t̷ ̵h̸i̵s̶ ̶f̷u̶n̶e̶r̵a̴l̷ ̵h̴e̴'̶s̴ ̸d̶e̷a̸d̸.̵ ̷

Shrugging the boy continued to play his DS while scratching his neck, a nervous habit he never could quit.

̷H̸o̶w̵ ̵i̴s̸ ̸h̴e̷ ̶h̵e̸r̴e̴?̶

He looked at his mom her slim figure still cooking breakfast while she spoke to Tenko Tomura, who gave small answers mainly focused on his game.

S̷l̵i̵m̴ ̷b̶u̶t̴ ̵w̷a̷s̷n̴'̶t̵ ̴s̷h̴e̸ ̸a̶l̶w̸a̷y̷s̵ ̶c̴u̶r̸v̶y̵?̶

Still confused he walked into the kitchen and sat down, not listening to their conversation.

W̸̺͠h̵̥͌y̶̩̽ ̵͕̃d̵̤̅í̶͓d̵̜͝n̶̳̈́'̷̗̌t̶̗̏ ̷̖͒t̵̺̉h̴̜́e̴̮̎ ̶̺́f̵̧̕l̴̰͐o̶͚̚o̸̪̍r̷̊͜ ̷͕̃b̵̰̎o̶̜̿a̷̗̅r̷̳̍d̸̬̽ ̶͎̍c̶̫̈́ŕ̴͜ė̴̜a̴͉̍ḳ̵̒

Soon he heard a distinct ding sound come from the microwave.

I̴̻̋t̶̹̊ ̸̱̕w̵̟͝a̷̩̒s̷͓̅ ̴͍͘b̷̺̎r̴̡̓ò̴͖k̶̗̈́e̸͕͋ń̸͓.̷̺̚ ̶̗̐I̷̡̕t̷͓̉ ̷͚̾w̷̻̄a̴̺͠s̵̮̆ ̷͓̇b̵̯̔r̵̠͘o̷̫̒k̷̂͜e̶̮̕n̵̠̐.̵̺͂ ̷̛͚Í̵̦t̶͕̚ ̵̜͑w̴͇̃a̶͕͒s̵̳͝ ̷̺͛b̶̘̂ṛ̵́o̸̯͐k̶̲̔e̸͓͋n̵̜͑.̶̤͊

"Oh your fathers coffee is done Izu can you get that for me while I finish breakfast?"

Still dazed he nodded and got up to get the coffee passing by the garbage can where an awful smell hit his nose.

Looking down in the can he saw some ramen that looked old and moldy sitting in the trash.

He would need to take out the trash later how did he let it get this bad?

W̶̲̓á̸ͅs̶͔̃n̶̼̾'̴̟̿ṯ̴͋ ̴̻̓h̴̤͊e̷̦͒ ̴̙͆c̵͓̎o̸̬͛ọ̴̇k̶̖͒î̵̗ṇ̸̎g̴͍̈ ̶̳̏t̴̃ͅh̵̦͝ä̵̘́t̷̗͗ ̸̩̈́l̶̺̒å̵͜s̴̩̕t̵̖͛ ̸̖͐n̸̮̚i̷̖͛g̵̢͝h̵̗̆ṯ̴̊ ̷̞̆w̶̙͒h̵͓̃y̶̼͆ ̷͉̓i̵̫̍š̷̰ ̴̫́ị̶̔t̸͛͜ ̸͍͐m̵̐͜ö̸̥́l̸͚̍d̵̠̀ỷ̶͎?̶͍̆

Opening the microwave he grabbed the coffee mug feeling like something was wrong. But he just can't put his finger on it.

Looking to the fridge he noticed a taped paper usually reserved for writing the grocery list, but now it just had scribbles all over it.

His ears began to ring as he focused on the only word not scribbled off.

His eyes watered as cold fear filled his body as he stood there frozen.

The only thing left unscribbled being-

"Hey little brother you okay?"

M̵̝̺̅e̵̼̫͐̈́a̸̝̿t̸̥̾̆

A hand landed on his shoulder causing Izuku to jump bringing him out of his thoughts. Looking up he saw Tomura stood next to him no longer playing his DS a concerned look on his face.

"Oh y- yeah I'm fine just a little out of it, my homework kept me up pretty late last night." Izuku said giving him a reassuring simle.

Even if he didn't belive himself hopefully Tomura wouldn't press any further.

He felt scared and he really didn't know why, man that dream must have really messed him up.

Tomura nodded before patting his back and sitting at the table again Izuku following soon after sitting next to him.

A peace settled over the kitchen as his mom layed out breakfast for everyone.

"What is that delicious smell?" A deep voice spoke from the door way of the kitchen where a tall man stood.

All the hair on Izukus body stood up something in him screaming.

R̷̟̘̜̋͑̓̌̚͝ư̴̝̈̈̔͑̎͋͒̈̆n̵̢͈̹̺͓̿

But there was no danger so why did he feel like he needed to run and hide?

He had short curly hair, red eyes like Tomura, and a strong build.

Izuku had never seem this man before just who was he?

"Hizashi there you are I was just about to call you come sit breakfast is ready!" His mom spoke cheerfully.

Ṯ̸̈h̷̤̽ã̴̲t̵̞̄ ̷͔̿w̶̺͗a̴̛̩s̶͌ͅǹ̶̻'̶̧̈́t̴̡͝ ̴̪̽ḣ̴͍i̵̛̥ŝ̴̬ ̴̘̓n̴̩̂ã̸̻m̶͕͌e̶͎͒ ̶̠̄i̵̛̙t̶̗̅ ̷̘̋ẉ̴̍a̵͈͂s̶̨̓-̶̮̓

"Looks good darling thankyou." He replied as he gave his mom a peck. Was this man a new boyfriend his mom didn't tell him about?

I̷̻͝t̷͈͠ ̶̭̎w̴͖̒a̵̔͜s̸͙͑-̶͚͌

"Oh it was nothing your welcome honey!" His mom said sitting down between Tomura and an empty seat.

Everyone but Izuku seemed familiar with this Hizashi but Izuku didn't know! He just didn't know what he was missing!

A̸̞̋l̸̻̓-̶̣̀

He walked on the creaky floor board, not a single sound coming from the weak wood of the board.

Ả̵͖l̵̳̒l̶̋͜-̵̤̅

Sitting down in the empty chair between Izuku and his mom at the table the man looked to the small boy.

Ȃ̷̹ļ̶̏l̵̗̐ ̸̣͘f̴̭͠-̸͈̈́

"Is that my coffee son?" Hizashi asked in a sweet voice.

A̵͚͊l̵͎̈́l̷̰̇ ̵̪͘f̶͍̅ó̷͔r̸͖̄-̸͉́

Looking down Izuku noticed he still held the coffee mug. That's right he was still holding his dad's coffee and this man was his dad.

A̴̖͘l̸̫͝l̷̥͒ ̶̨̈f̵͓̆ô̷̜r̸̼̽ ̴̡͝O̸̘͛-̶̚��

Handing the mug to his dad he smiled finally remembering the man. His mom was right he really does get disoriented in the morning.

His father thanked him as Izuku looked at his breakfast for the first time.

A̵̙͑l̴̰̅l̸̙͛ ̶̪̈́f̴͉̆ó̵̰r̷͔̽ ̷̠͆O̶̝̍ṋ̶͠-̴̕͜

A bowl of white rice with a single uncooked egg while on the plate next to it sat a large peice of meat still bloody and raw.

"Eat it all son I don't want to see a single bite left on your plate."

Said his father with a too wide too toothy grin that just stretched too far to be human.

A̷̱̋l̴̖͂l̸̫͆ ̸̈͜f̸̲̄ȏ̶̹r̵̺̈́ ̸̭̂O̸͇͝n̵̙͘e̸̲̋

His mouth watered as he nodded beginning to eat the raw meat first.

""̶̞̋Ĝ̶͍o̷̎͜o̵͎͋ď̵͇ ̴̻̃b̸̟̃o̶͍͊y̶̛̠ ̸̯̆ḙ̶̃a̷̪͠t̷̘͝ ̴̨̇û̸ͅp̶͚͝.̷͜͝"̶̱̂."

The family of four ate their breakfast in front of the window where a pepper plant wilted.

Outside the sun rose into the sky over a decaying garden full of rotten tomatoes and cucumbers.

Nothing croaked or chirped that morning the air still and crisp.

Everything was silent outside the cottage only the sounds of a family feeding could be heard.

******************************************************

All Mights still a pro hero with one for all but he's also hunting AFO who is not a super villain or even human.

Meanwhile First is trying to save any unfortunate souls that come in contact with his brother while trying to help all might find and kill AFO.

Some timeline stuff

•  First Tomura gets his quirk late like teen years late.

• Then he dies in the fire after decaying his family on accidentbecausehe thought he was quirkless.

• Next AFO finds his soul and says welp he's mine now.

• Sees Tomura being all close with auntie Inko and lil Izu in his memories and says welp their mine now too.

• Inko decided to move to the country after finding out Izu was being bullied for being quirkless.

• They live there peacefully for a year or two before AFO pulls up.

• AFO really said perfect time to suprise adopt my new son and suprise marry my new wife.

• No body snatching here just making his new fam into what he is because he'd never truly change them.

• Just there bodies so they can never leave and memories to include him.

[iwillbeinmynest]

Redcove Harvest - Bucky x Reader(f)   Chapter 2

Author’s Notes: Thank you all for the kind and enthusiastic response to the first chapter. Here’s chapter two for ya’ll. I hope you like it. I have a feeling this series with hit at least ten chapters but that means high word counts so hopefully that isn’t an issue.

AU: Farmhand!AU and SingleMom!Reader

Word Count: 

Notes/Warnings: (Notes are for the whole series) FLUFF, mentions of a past toxic relationship, a wild storm at the end, drama and a break-up, mentions of drinking, kids being adorable and ridiculous, kissing, romance and a tiny bit of angst if you look hard but nothing more than that of a Hallmark movie.

Masterlist     Series Masterlist

Bucky dropped Steve off at the store and then made his way to the address on the napkin. He turned off the highway onto a dirt road. He drove for about three miles or so down the tree lined drive. He took his final turn into an open but very busted gate. The fencing that lined the property was made of wood and was rotting in a few places. He figured that was probably on the list of things he might be doing.

He kept driving and saw that both of the fields on either side of him were overgrown. The fences were covered with saplings, vines and weeds. The fields beyond them were waist high with wheat colored grass and broom straw. He added that to his mental list. This dirt road ran for just over a mile and then he came into view of the house. It was a white two story with a wrap around porch. There was a large slab of old concrete that was being used to park cars. It held an orange tractor-mower, a Burgundy Ford and three electric kids cars. Two were pink and one looked like a little John Deer tractor.

Okay, so kids, that’s fun.

Bucky parked where he wouldn’t be in the way and got out of his truck. Two little girls, no older than ten, ran out of the front door laughing, each carrying their own basket. They didn’t even see Bucky and ran in the opposite direction, disappearing behind the house.

Bucky looked around the yard and saw a third field directly across from the front door. It was about forty yards from the porch but it was lush with greens and scattered bright colors. The field, that was also lined with a worn down fence, was a massive garden.

He could only pick out a few types of plants, though; tomatoes, cabbage, some kind of hanging gourd and (at his best guess) carrots.

A woman stood up from behind a thick patch of greens. Her hair was braided back and she had gardening gloves on. She was wearing a yellow tee-shirt, jeans and black rubber boots. She picked up a basket and started walking towards Bucky.

He slid his hands into his pockets and nodded his head her way. She waved briefly and closed the gate behind her.

Bucky could see her basket was full of freshly harvested radishes.

She reached a hand out, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Bucky shook it with another nod. “Bucky. Well, James. James Barnes but call me Bucky.” Bucky cursed in his head.

Y/N smiled. “Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

He froze at her smile. She was stunning. She had dirt on her cheek and a little sweat on her forehead but it only seemed to add to her beauty.

Her brow furrowed and she used a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she looked out over her property. “So, I need all of the fields cut and the fence lines cleaned. That will all probably take you at least a week. Then I’ll need the front field bailed but I have to rent the machine. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the fences are busted in several spots, we used to have cows, and one of Gavin’s bulls took out a few posts in a fit. And-”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Bucky jumped in as politely as he could. “So, I have the job?”

“Isn’t that why you came?” She looked a little confused.

“But you don’t even know me.” He said.

Y/N smiled. “You come highly recommended, Sergeant.” She leaned on one leg and rested her basket on her hip.

Bucky ticked his head to the side and then it dawned on him. “Steve called you.”

She nodded once. “He did.” She grinned.

Bucky could have melted from the softness of her smile.

“You can run a field mower, right?” She asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, great. I put the keys on the seat for you.” She said over her shoulder as she began to walk away. “I’ll be in the yellow barn for a bit but if you can’t find me there give me a ring.”

“Will do.” He said to himself as he watched her walk away for a minute. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He cursed Steve under his breath.

*   *   *   *

Bucky ran the mower for five hours. Somewhere in the middle Y/N called him back to the house for water and lunch but he insisted he only needed the water and that he’d take a bottle to-go if she had it, which she did.

Her property was huge, he guessed at least 250 acres. He didn’t even finish half of the first field. He pulled the Tractor back to where it was parked when he pulled up, then he tried to brush as much of the dust off of him as he could.

He could feel a sunburn on the back of his neck and decided that he’d either need a real hat or something to cover the skin above his collar.

He walked up the front steps and knocked on the door.

He heard little bare feet slapping on hardwood and running his way. The door opened and a little blonde baby was grinning up at him. “Hi!” She beamed.

“Hi,” He smiled back. “Is your mom around?”

“MOMMA!” She shouted.

A faint voice called back, “Comin’, baby!”

Bucky smiled.

The girl grabbed his hand. “I’m Lex. You should come inside. Momma doesn’t like it when the front door is left open.” She tugged on him and he conceded. Lex closed the door and then left him there.

Another girl walked past and when she noticed him her eyes grew wide. She very clearly had no idea who he was.

“Momma,” She started as she backed away.

Y/N appeared from around the corner and her gait faltered when she saw Bucky in the house. She put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“Bucky, who let you in?”

Bucky had clearly crossed a line. He backed up, taking a step towards the door. “I’m sorry, Lex-”

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed, relieved. “Of course, Lex.”

The daughter at Y/N’s side twisted and shouted as she disappeared, “Lex! You can’t just let people in the house!”

“But momma does it!” A faint Lex shouted back.

“Momma is the grown-up, she’s supposed to!”

“Gracie quit yellin’ at your sister!” Y/N turned back to Bucky. “I’m sorry. Kids.” She chuckled.

“I was just about to head out but wanted to know what time you’d like me tomorrow.” He confessed.

“Oh, umm.” She put her hands at her hips. “How about eight? I’ll pay you for a full day's work today but I’d figured that you could work eight to three for the most part. Weather pending, of course.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great. Oh! Will you come write down your information so I can pay you?” She waived him over and headed down the hall.

Bucky followed as she turned a corner and ended up in a massive kitchen that spilled into the family room.

“I’ll pay you weekly at twenty two an hour if that works?”

Bucky’s eyes went a bit wide. “Yes, ma’am that works for me.”

She looked over at him as she grabbed a pen and pad from a small basket on the counter. “Stop calling me ‘Ma’am’. Just Y/N is fine.”

He nodded as he wrote down his name and number and address. “Will I get to meet your husband?” he’d meant it innocently.

Y/N turned and said, “He passed a few years ago,” with no tone whatsoever.

Bucky jerked his head up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

She held a hand up and plastered on that gentle smile. “It’s fine. Really.”

Bucky handed her the pad and pen back.

“So, will a check work?” She asked.

“Sure, that’s fine.” He smiled back. He felt bad for bringing up her dead husband. He also felt bad knowing she had kids. “I appreciate the work.”

“I appreciate the help.”

There was an awkward pause so Bucky tried to fill it, “I’m sorry for coming into the house when I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to scare your daughter.”

“Who, Gracie? Nah, she’s tough. She was probably trying to decide if she was gonna grab a bat.” Y/N chuckled. “Lexie, on the other hand, needs some work on her stranger danger skills. She’s only five but that girl is another kind of fearless.”

Bucky laughed. “Well, hopefully I fall out of the stranger category, now.”

Y/n nodded. “Steve vouched for you so, I’d say you’re good.”

“Did he really call you?”

“He did.”

Bucky shook his head. He made a note to punch Steve real hard.

“I’ve known Steve since before Gavin died. He’s a good man. He mentioned you a lot. I’m glad to finally meet you.”

Y/N met Bucky’s eyes and they stayed like that for a moment.

“Mom! Lex won’t give me my Legos back!” Gracie yelled from up stairs. A smaller scream followed little running footsteps.

Y/N sighed and put a hand to her head. “I should take care of that.”

Bucky jerked from his spot against the counter. “Yeah, yeah. Of course, sorry. I’ll let you get to it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She followed him to the front door. “Feel free to use whatever you need in the morning. If it’s on the property you can use it or fix it. I’ll have a full list of everything I need done, too. You’re welcome to leave for lunch whenever you’d like or eat up here.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at her as he stepped through the door. “Have a good evening.”

“You, too. Good night, Bucky.”

He jogged down the steps and hopped in his truck. He suddenly got the feeling he was going to love his job.

* * * * * * * * * *

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