#‘I hope you didn’t steal that from a motel lobby’ ‘you can hope’

[renneiscent]

Two Sides of The Same Coin

Note: I apologise for bad writing and grammar, I hope you enjoy it.

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Chapter 4: Lodging for the Missing

The motorcycle is heading to the alleys and narrow streets, away from the main road, until it is finally slowing up in front of the rickety building with neon light that says “Nobody Inn” decorating on top of it. It cannot be any sketchier, I think.

As the engine is going off, I immediately took off the helmet as I get down from the motorcycle and so does ‘Jake’. He then heads to this run-down building, leaving me nervously watching him with fidgeting my fingers. I guess he notices that I didn’t follow him, that’s why now he stops and turns at me. His hair and shirt are damp because of the rain we are passing through which is I’m not complaining.

“What is it?” he asks as if he could sense my concern.

“Well…” I bite my lip nervously; trying to find my priorities about what should I say first. Are you Jake? Where were you before? This building seems will fall down any seconds. Why did you here? WHY am I here? The name of this motel, is that for real? What will you do to me? Why your voice is so nice to hear? What—

“So?” he snaps me back from my thoughts, he is now crossing his arms over his chest while his index finger tapping to his bicep, beckoning me to speak.

“Who are you?” I finally managed to ask. It’s better rather than just remains silent and stares at him like a pervert. He raises his brows, feeling surprised.

“So that’s the reason you pulled away before?” he chuckles, I’m flustered. Yes, I did hug him because feeling guilty to steal his coat and also, yes I pulled away after realising that he may not Jake that I knew. “I will give you 3 chances to ask some things about only you and Jake know.”

I chew my lips before speaking, “what did Jake do before our first interaction?”

“I let you saw through the conversation between Dan and Jessica,” he takes some steps toward me. The answer is correct. “Well… how did you like it?” so does his response.

“What is the name of this stuff that protected me when Jake was on hiding?” I ask again, feeling more nervous and little ease somehow.

“Nymos,” he takes more steps again. “That little red eye as its symbol… I should design it less suspicious and more pleasant in the eyes, no?”

The answer is correct again and also our gap is decreasing. One last question…

“Who you gonna call?” I’m staring at him who is walking straight at me, closing the gap between us. I can hear his chuckles.

“Ghostbusters,” he leans down so our eyes are meeting. “That was so reckless of you, MC. The questions must require the information that outsiders couldn’t know.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I smile. The last question is indeed reckless, but his responses already proved me enough.

“Are you still doubting me or are we good?” his eyes are staring at me deeply. “Because someone just stole my coat and I’m soaked by the rain and right now I’m freezing.”

“Good,” I nod my head few times. “We are good, at least for now.”

He furrows his brows, probably wanting to ask me about what did I just mean by that. But before he managed to ask about it, I already walk past by him and get inside to the motel. Inside the building, it’s not crowded as I expected. Only one person I managed to find which is the receptionist and he doesn’t speak much, just focusing on his newspaper that I’m doubting if he really read it despite the lacking of light in his cubicle.

“Which one is your room?” I ask as I intend to turn to the right lobby.

He immediately pulls me by the wrist and beckons with his head, “this way.”

I’m too embarrassed and surprised so I didn’t say anything at all. I’m just letting Jake holding my hand and letting me following him from behind until we reach his room. It is in the very back room in the left corner of this building. He takes out the key from his pocket and unlocks the door. Just after he opens the door, a glimpse of shadow is quickly jumping and attacking him.

“Who do you think you are!?” a woman shout at him, my eyes widen in shocked. Her hands are wrapped on his neck, choking him tight.

“Jake!” I want to help him but Jake hints me to not intervene.

“Athena,” he calls the goddess name, the voice is choked. “We have a guest…” I guess it’s the woman’s name.

The woman named Athena groans as she lets go of her hands from Jake and turns to face me. Her hair is as blonde as the summer beach sand; her eyes are stunning like emerald as if the smoky make-up couldn’t dim the light. Her beauty intimidates me.

“Hi,” I greet her while raising one of my hands awkwardly.

She rolls her eyes then face Jake again, “and you told me to not be worried when we are in the same city as her!? You didn’t follow the target or even find the key!!”

Athena walk pass by me and slam the door until it shut then her hand pointing at me, “and you let her to come here? Are you insane, Rion!?”

Rion? I look at Jake, confused. My head is throbbing in pain with so many questions I have, it doesn’t decrease but it is increasing more and more in every minute. Jake is still in silence, not even looking at me and this Athena girl. He takes off his mask and put in on the drawer near the door. It feels like my heart is falling to my belly.

I finally see his face completely.

“Do you have clean outfit that I can borrow, Athena?” he asks calmly while heading to the room.

“Are you ignoring me?!” Athena follows him from behind, leaving me alone while still being mesmerised with Jake’s face. With the face of his, he deserves to be in jail. It’s not fair to my heart.

“What the fuck, Orion?! Why did you take my outfits?! Not that one, I never wear it yet! Stop, not that one! Fine, just lend her this one.”

I don’t know what’s happening but Jake already comes back and walks toward me with pile of clothes on his hands. “What is that?” I ask even though I can already tell what he is trying to do.

“Go change, you can wear this.” He hands me the clothes, I peek at Athena who is standing with arms crossed in the front of her room. “Don’t mind her, just go change.”

I nod then go to the bathroom, avoiding the eye contact Athena trying to make. Before I’m taking off my clothes, I’m checking the clothes that Jake just gave me. There are white sweater with long wide pants with army green as its colour and there are also… clean underwear and bra. I’m in dilemma if I should be flustered or disgusted with it.

“The underwear are still new, I just bought it. Lucky you, I guess.” Her voice is behind the door. I’m surprised since she managed to answer my question before I couldn’t say it out loud.

“Thank you, Athena.” I say sincerely, and then quickly take off Jake’s coat and my clothes, putting it on the basket there. I wonder if Athena is still there.

“How could you meet with Orion and end up here?”

I guess she is still there.

“Orion?” I ask, unsure even though I realised who is this constellation we are talking about.

“Oh my bad… perhaps you know him more as Jake,” she scoffs. “What a common name, it doesn’t suit him.” I can hear her mutters but I try to not intervene much.

“I was… in the middle of something,” I lie while putting on the underwear and then pants. “And then we just met somehow.”

There is silence between us as I finally put the sweater; I open my mouth to speak, “If I may… what is your relationship with him?”

I’m in the between of curious and afraid to know the answer. Are they, by any chance, partner in crime… looking at how hostile she is toward me, even though I realised that I’m disturbance for their mission, I’m afraid if it’s more than that.

“You don’t need to know everything.”

I can hear her footsteps walking away, I feel so doomed. All of these stuffs happening in only one night. Too much things going on in the blaze of time, it drives me insane. I then choose to wash my face before walk out from the bathroom. I’m looking at my reflection in the mirror, her sweater that I borrow is bit bigger until it sometimes reveal my skin. I fix as taking the deep breath. When I walked out, I didn’t find anyone in the TV room where all the chaos just happened, I take a peek in Athena’s room and she is also not there.

“Are you hungry?” I look to the source of the voice and find Jake is just from outside with hands full. He already changes his clothes with black hoodie and black long pants. As he takes his mask off and put his cap away, he then places the food down on the table. It’s Chinese food.

“Go have some bite. I will drive you home when it is not raining anymore.” Jake is taking off his hoodie, leaving him only wearing black t-shirt. I wonder why all of his outfits are black. Even Athena still has some colours in her wardrobe. But I’m thankful for it since the black outfit just makes him look more fascinating.

“Is it still raining?” my brows are raised as I’m heading to the couch and having a seat. “Where is Athena?” I look at my surroundings as if Jake is sitting beside me not bother me at all. Well, it does bother me! A LOT!

“She said she will go somewhere,” Jake takes one of the food containers and put it in front of me. “It’s not because of you, so you don’t have to think much. Just eat.”

I take my food and the chopsticks, trying to feed myself a small bite. But I cannot focus with my food when Jake is beside me, opening up the food containers and offering me to eat other foods he brought, even preparing my water like the boyfriend take care of his girlfriend. Especially when he has this soft and fluffy hair I want to ruffle, or the eyes as blue as the ocean that I want to swim in, those jawlines which managed to cut everything, and—

“This is not Chinese restaurant that I have in mind when I asked you before,” he turns and looks at me, smiling. “I apologise.”

Oh God, I thought I’m the crazy one for clinging to the memories and cannot move on from it. But he is still in the same page as me, remembering the moment when we discussed about the Chinese food and our thoughts when we met with each other.

“This is already perfect,” I reply sincerely, smiling from ear to ear.

Just as things are getting good, as always it really needs to be interrupted. His flip phone is suddenly buzzing, he immediately take it and stand up from the couch. “One moment,” he says as he walks away from me sitting.

It doesn’t take long for Jake to come back and sit beside me, he put his flip phone back on the table and reaches one of the bottles.

“Was it Athena?” I dare to ask.

“No,” he opens the bottle and drinks the water from it. “It’s from someone else,” he adds while putting the bottle back.

The silence between us is awkward and I’m puzzled about which things that I should bring out first to discuss with Jake. There are so many things I want to ask him and this is now the chance that great God just gave me but nothing comes out from my mouth yet. I put my food and take the water bottle instead, refreshing my mouth before prepare to ask him with everything.

“MC,” how Jake calls my name makes me flinched.

“Yes?” I look at him; he is leaning onto the couch while staring at me seriously.

“After you are at home, I want you to turn a blind eye to what’s happening tonight. Either it’s what happened in the alley or here; I want you not to stick your nose into someone’s business again.”

“What do you mean by that?” I frown, I don’t like where this is going.

“I want you to act that tonight never happens,” his hand reaches my hair and plays with it gently. I’m confused with his action and word which is not in the same direction. He wants me to ignore whatever just happened tonight but he is being affectionate with me. Does he think that I’m the greatest warrior? I’m trying so hard to handle myself here with your doings, Jake.

“Why? Are you going to disappear again?” I bite my lower lip, feeling frustrated and annoyed in the same time.

His hand now is moving from my hair to my lower lip, he pulls it gently for me to not bite it. He escapes long sigh, “where did you pick this bad habit from?”

“Jake,” I say desperately as I hold his wrist. “Answer me.”

“I’m not going to disappear, I never disappear.” He brushes my face gently as his eyes are shifting to my lips then to my eyes, “think of me as the daytime star. Even though you cannot see me, it doesn’t mean I’m not there. I’m always near you.”

“But I don’t want it. I miss you so much, how could you say something like that after finally showing up for years?” I’m furious with his statement; I don’t want to be left out anymore, especially after our real meetings, after our finally interaction from the incident in the mine. I can move on from Richy because he is really gone, but how could I do that with Jake when he is right here in front of me? I can finally see him, finally hear him, and finally touch him.

“I’m also longing for you, but as what I told you before this isn’t right,” he leans closer and tugs my hair behind my ear. “And it’s dangerous.”

“Then, why did you intervene tonight? Why did you jump and save me from them, and even brings me here?” I glare at him, this is so much unfair.

He smiles apologetically and then kisses my forehead, “because you’re all that matters.”

I quickly jump to him and put my arms around his neck, embracing him really tight. I want to hit him for being so stupid but perhaps I’m the fool one here. So instead of hitting him, I will just make myself lose in his arms for tonight.

“How you handle it?” I bite my lower lip to not let myself fall even for one tear. “You are watching me from afar all this time, how did you handle it?”

Jake places his hand on my waist and the other hand to caress my head; I can hear and even feel his breath on my neck. His scent soft and warm like the home where every missing soul is taking rest, he feels warm like he is the embodiment of sun which its ray bathes my skin.

“It’s hard, I’m still not getting used with that,” he kisses my cheek. He tighten his hug, feeling don’t want to let go. But I break the hug and pull away for us to look at each other, he looks at me confused.

“I will be really pissed if you get used with that,” I glare at him, but he chuckles. His laugh eases the pain I’m bearing. I notice his eyes are no longer at my eyes anymore, but those ocean vessels already on my lips; staring it deeply as if it’s something so precious, something so priceless.

“MC,” he calls my name affectionately. I love it every time he calls me by my first name.

“Hm?” I murmur, still astonished with his beauty.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?”

[kimtranssexler]

I just want someone to know how content the chuck flashback made me feel. I have said “I need a chuck flashback” out loud to somebody at least two times a day every day for the past five weeks. I would have screamed so loud but I was watching it with my brother and I didn’t want to kill him accidentally so I willed myself to be perfectly still and silent and it was a very strange experience physiologically. I had like a heart attack.

[parker-razor]

many a dream about you

afab!reader x mando (no y/n)

5.2k words, 18+, EXPLICIT!! 

warnings: SMUT (extended warnings under the cut), mentions of injuries, unprotected sex (use protection!), very little editing

summary: when you and mando are forced to share a bed together, you end up having a dream that reveals more than you had hoped...

author’s notes: ahhhh! this is my first fic!! i’ll be honest, i got so excited i wrote most of this in one sitting. indulge me in some of my favorite smutty tropes about everyone’s favorite space dad!

extended warnings: oral (f receiving), wet dreams, thigh grinding, mentions of rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation... i think that’s it

*****

Stars, you were exhausted.

You had just spent three weeks on the Razor Crest with the only bed available to you being a cheap mattress that might as well have just been a sack stuffed with sand. On top of the little sleep you were running on, you had just finished loading three bounties onto the Crest and into carbonite while Mando patched himself up. Dragging three grown men onto the ship and freezing them took all the strength out of you.

You finally collapsed into the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, catching your breath and giving your muscles a well-deserved break. Your eyes flutter closed as your body decompresses from the hard work and no sleep it’s been put through these past weeks. Mando had hired you just a month ago to look after the ship while he was away on hunts. Not to mention the little green gremlin he had adopted as his own, who kept you company and looked to you to get taken care of. It was much better than the life you had known; growing up on the outskirts of Tatooine was hard enough as is, but when your little shop had been pillaged and ransacked, you had nothing left on the small, desert planet. Mando had shown up just in time, sitting next to you in a dive bar.

*****

You had never seen one of his kind before, and to be honest, you were overwhelmed with the way he carried himself. He was big, towering over everyone he passed on his way to the barstools. You wondered why he even bothered if he couldn’t remove his helmet to drink, but you’d never ask. He sat himself just a few stools from yours, and after stealing a few glances with flushed cheeks, you finally opened your mouth to say something.

“Bounty hunters like you must be pretty busy on a planet like this,” you said, trying to talk over the loud band playing in the corner. “Not too many upstanding people tend to find themselves here.”

Slowly turning his helmet to face you, the Mandalorian said, “What does that say about you?”

Damn, you thought, he was quick to the draw.

“It’s not exactly my choice to live here. I’d give anything to get off this ball of sand.”

He says nothing, just turns his helmet forward again. You figure that’s the end of that, at least you tried. You can now say that you’ve talked to a Mandalorian before.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “Anything?”

You whip your head towards him, trying to figure out where this was going. Of course you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to come off too eager in case he wasn’t serious.

“I mean, what do you have in mind?” you ask, trying to act as calm as possibly, but you couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of leaving.

“I have… a son. He’s very small and can’t take care of himself yet. I don’t like taking him hunting, but I can’t leave him on the ship by himself,” he pauses, piecing together his words carefully. “I need someone to look after him.”

“So, I’d be his babysitter?”

“And ship sitter. Just keep it clean, nothing complicated.”

You pretended to ponder his proposition, but you knew you’d say yes almost immediately. There was nothing left for you here; no family, no livelihood, no friends. This was the best deal you had gotten in a long time. Except…

“So, what do I get in return?”

“I’d pay you, as much as I can afford. But you’d have your own bed and food.”

You’re sold.

*****

You’re brought back to the present when you hear Mando’s footsteps ascend the ladder to the cockpit. The child is holding onto him, smiling when he sees your face.

“How bad are you hurt?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ll live. Just a gash.”

“Well, I got the bounties in carbonite. But I gotta say Mando, I don’t know if I can sleep another night in a row on that shitty mattress.” He says nothing, and you haven’t figured out if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you making room for me! I’m just saying, I think we both need a proper rest tonight, especially after today,” you backtrack. You hear him sigh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Alright. I passed an inn on the way back here. Let’s see if they have any vacancy, hopefully with a bed better than the one you have.” You blush, embarrassed that you came off as ungrateful.

Mando was a mystery to you. He was quiet, a man of few words. It was especially hard trying to read him without being able to see any facial cues or expressions. Nevertheless, something about him exuded strength. He was much taller than you, but he was also just… big. Especially with all the beskar adding a whole other layer of strength. You couldn’t explain the attraction you felt for him. Something about how he towered over you, his visor boring into your face made you weak in the knees. How could you feel this way for someone who you’d barely talked to, let alone never seen their face?

He made you feel weak, but for some reason you liked that. Growing up on your home planet, you had to learn to fight for yourself. You were strong, with curves and muscles that showed just how tough life had made you. You never let a man make you feel less than or weak, always ready to defend yourself. But you liked that Mando made you feel small. It made no sense, but it also made perfect sense.

Sometimes at night, you’d let your hands wander. One hand wandered up to your face, whether to bite down on a finger or cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, and the other down the front of your pants. Being around Mando so much made it difficult to wait until after he fell asleep to take care of the burning need you felt for him. You had your fair share of flings with the boys in your village, but none of them made you feel the way Mando did. With the most subtle actions he could make a heat blossom in your stomach and goosebumps spread over your arms. Sometimes the way he’d fly the Crest made you clench your thighs together; he looked so in charge in that pilot’s seat. Rubbing tight circles on your clit, clenching around nothing while angling your hips just right, you would be sent into orbit at the thought of his hands taking care of you instead.

After you and Mando had packed up your essentials, you got Grogu into his pram and headed off to the village nearby. You had no idea what planet you were on, but the flowering trees brought some joy to you. In the past weeks travelling with Mando, you had seen so many new things. You had never once left your home, and things like trees and streams had you in awe. You would never get used to how it made you feel.

The village was small, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else around for miles. You got to the motel, one of the larger buildings in the area. The lobby was small and surprisingly clean, much cleaner than the interior of the Crest. An older woman, the innkeeper you presumed, stood at the desk.

“We’d like two rooms. How much would that be?” Mando asked, not interested in entertaining niceties.

“So sorry sir, we only have one room available. A few of our rooms are under renovation, and there’s only one unoccupied that is fit to house anyone,” the woman said with a sickly sweet smile.

Mando sighed, obviously conflicted with the choice laid in front of him. He turned to you for your input.

“I- I don’t mind sharing a room. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just thought it be nice to escape the ship for the night.” You rushed your words out, feeling shy at the prospect of sharing the room with Mando. He had his own quarters on the ship, and you had yours, if you could even consider them quarters. After a few beats, Mando put some credits on the desk, and took the key the woman was offering.

Pushing down the excitement you felt, you grabbed your things that you had set down and followed Mando to your room. It’s not like you hadn’t been living in close proximity with Mando for the past few weeks anyways.

But this was different.

And you didn’t fully realize why it was so different until you opened the door to your room and saw that there was only one queen sized bed. Your jaw dropped, as you looked to Mando for his reaction. Nothing, as usual. He just walked into the room as if nothing had changed.

How was this gonna go? Were you just supposed to… share? The bed wasn’t puny, plenty of room for the both of you. But this was crossing a line that you didn’t even realize had been established. You didn’t really know much about each other and hadn’t been acquainted for very long. Not to mention the burning need you felt for him growing day by day.

And now you had to share a bed with him. No big deal.

Grogu’s cries for attention brought you out of your reverie of thoughts. You picked him up from his pram and placed him on the bed, allowing him to take in the room. The love and affection for the child had grown immensely since Mando had first introduced the two of you. You were initially shocked at how silently affectionate Mando was with him. You had never expected him to be the paternal type. You had yet to learn how the curious pair had found each other; a small part of you wondered if Mando looked similar to the child under his mask.

Mando had set his things on the chair in the corner and mumbled something about using the refresher. And as quickly as the door shut, you heard the shower turn on and the sound of beskar hitting the floor.

The realization that Mando was maskless, naked, just a few feet away sent a shockwave through your body. Was he tan? Did he have blond or brown hair? Was he truly strong or did the beskar just add extra bulk? You imagined he had scars littering his body, with chest hair dusting his front. The thought of it trailing down beneath his pants sent a shiver down your spine. Stars, your mind was in the gutter.

The sun had set, and Grogu’s eyes started to flutter and shut on one of the pillows on the bed. You picked him up and cradled him, resting your cheek to his. You savored moments like this; the ones that made your heart warm and full of comforting joy. Grogu’s breathing slowed, letting out snores every once in a while. You heard the shower shut off, and carefully placed Grogu into his pram, closing the top for him to sleep in peace.  

Mando stepped out of the refresher in a thin pair of sleep trousers, a similar shirt and, of course, his helmet. Your gaze made you realize that he was definitely not wearing underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. You felt your face heat up as you looked anywhere but at him, almost positive that your face has turned as red as the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Mando said as he sauntered to the chair in the corner. He placed his things on the ground, sat in the chair, and crossed his arms as if to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over there, are you?” you asked.

“I… just assumed… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Your blush was back with a vengeance.

“I don’t mind. We got this room to relax, and you sure as hell don’t seem at ease with the way you’re sitting.” He said nothing for a few moments before sighing and standing to walk over towards the bed.

Oh Maker, this is actually happening, you thought. What act was more intimate than sharing a bed with someone? Well, there was the obvious one, but…

You scurried to the washroom, desperate to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. This didn’t have to be a big deal, and if you kept acting all standoffish like you had been, you’d chase Mando away with the bizarre energy you were emitting.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your blush, brushed your teeth with vigor, and changed into your pajamas. Granted, they were much scantier than the ideal, but you hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, let alone a room, with the Mandalorian.

Stepping out of the refresher, you see Mando lying in bed with the lamplight on. Maker, you wanted to nothing but climb in with him and lay on his chest…

His chest. This was the first time you’d seen him without all that bulky armor. Through his thin clothing you could tell he was strong, with broad shoulders and contoured muscle. His helmet turned towards you, and what you didn’t know was that he was eyeing you in your not-so-modest sleep clothes as well.

What you didn’t know was how Mando gazed at you when you held the child, cooing at him as he gently tugged on your hair or stroked your cheek. His helmet protected him from you finding out how often he stared at you in adoration. Your curves, your smile, your silent strength. Stars, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But what you saw when he looked at you was a silent T-visor staring at you with no emotion.

After a beat, your gaze met the floor as you walked to the other side of the bed, closest to the window. You crawled under the covers, waiting for some quick comment or a reaction from the man next to you. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the chair?” he asked.

“Stars, Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want to be as far away from me as possible,” you responded, embarrassed.

“That’s- no, not at all. I, uh, just wanted you to feel comfortable,” he stumbled. You had never seen him so lost for words, so taken back.

“I promise, Mando, if anything I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” Oh Maker, why did you just say that? That was the most upfront you’d been with him. Just as you were about to take back your words…

“I feel the same,” he responded quietly. Stars, if your heart didn’t explode at his words.

It was quiet for a few moments, until you said, “Well… goodnight Mando.”

“Goodnight.” He turned off the lamplight and shuffled deeper under the blankets. You were unsure if you should stay as close to the edge as possible or be truly comfortable and let yourself get a little closer to Mando. Before you could make up your mind, exhaustion overtook you and you drifted to sleep.

*****

Mando stirred in your sleep, disturbed by something he hadn’t recognized yet. As he continued to drift in and out of sleep, he heard something that he wasn’t sure was a part of a dream or reality.

Quiet mumblings came from your side of the bed, mixed with indistinguishable groans. His instincts kicked in, becoming fully awake to survey the room for any threats. It took him a moment to realize that as you slept, you had moved closer to Mando – much closer.

Your leg was draped over his torso, with your chest pressed to his side and your arm resting on his chest. But what he noticed most was the way your hips rolled, your core grinding against the side of his thigh. Looking at your face, he could tell you were asleep. Your breaths grew heavier, quiet groans turning into moans. Mando felt his pants grow tighter, not know whether or not to wake you from your obvious wet dream.

Mando froze when he heard you say his name while your hips sped up. “M-Mando, don’t stop… Please…” Fuck, you were dreaming about him. He wanted nothing more than to rub the growing problem in his pants, but he knew that crossed a line.

As your breath started to hitch, he could tell you were getting close. Just as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, breathing heavily while taking in what was going on.

You looked down at the scene you had caused, rendered speechless. Flooded with humiliation, you jumped out of bed and ran to the refresher as Mando shouted your name. You slammed the refresher door and locked it, tears springing to your eyes. Fuck fuck fuck, this was bad. Did you just ruin everything? Mando must hate you now.

“Please open the door, I’m not mad. Let’s just talk,” Mando said through the door, not wanting to reveal how he felt behind a slab of wood. You said nothing, feeling utterly mortified. There’s no way you could look him in the eye (well, helmet) after getting yourself off on his thigh in your sleep. Fuck.

After twenty minutes of Mando trying to convince you that he wasn’t upset and he just wanted to talk, he gave up. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor and went back to sit on the bed. Though the tension in his pants had gone down, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made. He looked down to see that you had left a wet spot on his leg, causing him to groan. He had to stop himself from thinking that way, at least for right now while you were upset.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were in shock. You tried your best to recount what had happened, but it didn’t help that you were asleep for most of it. The dream you were having a blur; Mando on top of you, and the intense feeling of being filled to the brim. Then, you remember waking up to Mando staring down at you, putting two and two together, and that was that.

You realized that Mando was awake before you were, which means he was watching you… do that to him. He didn’t try to wake you up or stop you. He was watching you get off. That had to mean… he liked it. He liked seeing you like that. Right?

You slowly stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping the tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your bedhead and opened the washroom door, rounding the corner to face Mando sitting on the bed.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at as he sat deep in thought.

“Are- are you okay?” he asked, uncertain of what he should say.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I was asleep and I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” you admit, eyes glued to the floor. A few moments of deafening silence pass, with you shuffling in the spot where you stood and Mando’s helmet fixed towards you.

“What did you dream about?” Mando asked quietly. The Mandalorian was normally so stoic and strong in his conviction that to hear his voice quiver in nervousness made your gaze shoot up to his.

“It’s… embarrassing. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Your face turned beet red, a trait of yours you didn’t realize you possessed until you met Mando. He was the first person to make you feel shy and flustered.

“I won’t, I promise. I just want to know… I need to know.”

“It was… about me. And you.” Mando rose to walk over to where you were standing, near the foot of the bed.

“What about us, exactly? You can tell me. Tell me everything.” You hesitated to meet his gaze, eyes wide and nervous.

“You were… on me. In me. All over me.” You felt yourself getting breathless as Mando got closer to you, as you retold your dream without getting too graphic yet still admitting that you had dreamt of him taking you.

“And was I gentle, or was I rough?” Mando’s voice grew husky, just as breathless as you. Maker, his voice made you weak at the knees.

“Gentle, at first. But the longer you went you got rougher. Much rougher.” Your voice dropped into a whisper as Mando found himself right in front of you, almost chest to chest. Your eyes dropped to admire his chest, what it’d look like without his shirt. You wanted to trace every scar that marked his skin, kiss him, bite him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze from his chest to his helmet.

“And which did you like better? Tell me,” he whispered through the modulator, but there was no filtering out how deep and raspy his voice had gotten, like you had never heard before.

“I… I was just happy you were touching me,” you whispered, in shock that this wasn’t just another dream. His hand drifted from your chin to your neck, caressing every inch of you. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that he was touching you without his gloves on.

Suddenly, both hands came to your waist and pulled you into his chest, your hands finding their place on his chest. You whimpered, never feeling so small, not knowing why you liked it so much.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweet one? Like I did in your dream?” he rasped.

“Please… please touch me, Mando.” He groaned at that, manhandling you so your back turned to the bed and quickly thrown onto the bed.

“I like hearing you beg, love. Beg some more for me.” You whimpered, flushed and embarrassed but in the best way. Mando yanked at your legs so they were hanging off the bed with him standing between your knees. His hands drifted from your stomach up to your breasts, squeezing them while his thumbs rubbed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

Unable to take it any longer, you sat up and yanked your shirt over your head as Mando did the same. His expanse of muscle was all you could think about, the thatches of chest hair made you want to run your hands all over him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“Tell me, did I eat this sweet pussy of yours in your dream?” You moaned, unable to remember but wanting his mouth on you all the same.

“I want you to, but your helmet…” Mando grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the bed, throwing it so one end covered your stomach and the other fell near the middle of his back. Awkwardly, you saw him maneuver under the blanket to take his helmet off, and then your shorts.

Before you could say so much as a “please,” Mando’s mouth enveloped your cunt with his hot mouth. Your gasp was loud and ragged, not expecting him to feel this good. You felt him moan into you, licking from your hole up to the tip of your clit.

“Am I the one who made you this wet, my sweet one? You’re dripping onto the bed for me,” you heard him rasp under the blankets.

“Please, Mando, you feel so f-fucking good,” you gasp as he puts his mouth on you again. You reach under the blanket to grab his hair to pull him the exact spots you wanted his mouth to be. Maker, his mouth was immaculate. His tongue messily toyed with your clit, groaning in your cunt when you tugged his hair which sent vibrations everywhere.

When he found that one spot, just to the left of your clit, you started to feel that familiar tension in your stomach, the one you’d get when you’d touch yourself in the silence of night in the Crest. You tilted your hips just right as he sucked your clit into your mouth, letting out an animalistic moan.

As soon as you felt him hum into your cunt again, you were gone. You fell over a cliff higher than ever before as everything went utterly white, white in your vision and white noise in your ears.

Maker, you came so fucking hard. And through the whole thing, Mando licked and sucked at you, slowing down when you eventually came down. You felt like you were floating through the aftermath as Mando kissed the inside of your thighs, and through the reverie you were in you felt the tickle of facial hair on your skin. You smiled to yourself, finally able to know something about the appearance of the man you adored so.

Mando quickly put his helmet back on under the blanket before pulling himself over you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“Do you want more? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked. As spent as you felt, at the sound of his voice your body began rearing up for more.

“More. I need your cock, Mando, so badly,” you whimpered, feeling a brand new wave of wetness flood at the apex of your legs.

You picked your head up, finally wrenching your eyes open as you felt Mando start to take his pants off. You were very suddenly awake again when you saw his cock spring out. He was big, bigger than the boys you had taken by far.

“I- I don’t know if you’ll fit. I’ve never had a man bigger than you.”

“No, sweet one, you’ve only had boys. I can’t wait to be the first man who wrecks you,” he rasps into your ears as your hands wrap themselves around his neck and down his back. Stars, he was sexy, an odd mix of shy and domineering all at once.

He started rubbing the tip against your cunt, and suddenly you were on fire again. You had never tried to get yourself again after one orgasm, always too spent and high on dopamine to go again. So you never got to realize that once you had one, more orgasms were not very difficult to achieve. Until, Mando’s tip swirled around your clit and you could feel the coil tighten yet again.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, causing him to groan and only put more pressure on your clit.

“Then do it, my love. I want to see your face when you cum for me.” You let out a series of curses until you came again, slightly weaker than the previous one but it rocked through you. Before you could even come down, Mando thrusted himself into you in one go. You let out a yell bordering on a scream, feeling your pussy stretch itself to fit all of him. Stars, the burn of the stretch made you shiver.

“Oh f-fuck, my sweet girl has an even sweeter pussy,” he gasped as he started to thrust himself into you. “S-so fucking t-tight and w-warm, I’m not gonna last…”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Mando’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you at an unfathomable rate.

“No no, look at me. Look at me while I’m making you feel good,” Mando growled as he grabbed your cheeks to make you look at his helmet. You tried so hard to keep your eyes open, but as Mando tilted his hips just right, jamming into your G-spot, you lost control over your body. You were saying something, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t decipher what it was.

“Is that- fuck- all you can say, pretty girl? Please? Please what? What do you need, fuck I’ll give you everything you want, just say the word,” Mando rambled, just as drunk on your pussy as you were on his cock.

“D-d-don’t stop, p-please don’t s-stop,” you uttered out, not completely sure if you were having one long orgasm or if it was building to something even bigger.

“I’m never gonna stop, baby, never wanna stop…” Without warning, an orgasm so strong racked through your body. You had never cum just from penetration before, but the way the hair at the base of Mando’s cock was brushing against your cunt as he fucked you sent you beyond the edge.

“Oh my fucking- stars, baby you’re so tight I can barely move… I-I’m gonna-“ Mando gasped as you felt him cum deep inside you, moaning louder than you thought he would.

You both gasped for breath, utterly exhausted from the best sex in both of your lives. Mando pulled out and laid next you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” you croaked, voice almost gone from overuse. Silence fell over the two of you, and you wanted to take back your words, until…

“Close your eyes. And don’t open them. Promise?” he said.

“I promise, I swear I won’t,” you said, shutting your eyes with your heart leaping at the prospect of finally kissing him. After a few moments of the sounds of shuffling next to you, you felt a soft pair of lips meet yours. It was tentative at first, but after a few gentle pecks Mando caressed your face and kissed you with a passion so strong it took your breath away. You felt his mustache tickle your upper lip as he kissed like if he pulled away, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When he finally pulled away, you reminded yourself to keep your eyes closed as he put his helmet back on. You pulled yourself over him, almost in the exact position you had found yourself in when you woke up from your dream, except this time Mando’s arm was draped under your neck.

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Mando admitted after a while. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you started living on the Crest.” You lifted your head from his chest and rested your chin on his right pec, gazing at his face.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You grinned from ear to ear, thanking the Maker that this wasn’t just because Mando was horny and he had found you getting yourself off on him. He had wanted you, too.

“For a minute I thought…I thought you’d tell me to leave and never come back. I was so embarrassed to wake up like that. But… I guess it ended up helping us out,” you chuckled. You heard Mando chuckle too as his chest shook a bit, warming your heart.

“I will never ask you to leave. I want you to stay, I need you to stay,” he admitted quietly. “Plus, I don’t know anyone else who would take care of Grogu so well.”

“Oh, Maker, Grogu!” you exclaimed, realizing Grogu had been closed in his pram in the corner throughout the entire… act.

“The device is soundproof, he didn’t hear a thing,” Mando explained. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know, with those ears?” you laughed, hearing Mando laugh with you.

“Maybe they’re more for balance rather than hearing,” Mando replied, causing you to let out a loud laugh, making joy flood Mando’s body.

“We can only hope…”

[drakenology]

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki. 

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside. 

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree. 

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door. 

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this. 

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away. 

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki. 

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit. 

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest. 

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?” 

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep. 

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes. 

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men. 

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch. 

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21. 

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round. 

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table. 

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think. 

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him. 

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall. 

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill. 

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.” 

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that. 

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed. 

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him. 

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body. 

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot. 

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it. 

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now. 

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch. 

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request. 

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go. 

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still. 

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers. 

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head. 

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand. 

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all. 

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi. 

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes. 

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him. 

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe. 

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life. 

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head. 

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you. 

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot. 

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark. 

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release. 

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum. 

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm. 

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up. 

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind. 

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed. 

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow. 

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame. 

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks. 

bitch i.. i’m sick. 

[mattzerella-sticks]

metamorphosis

Chapter 3 (ao3)

Prologue (ao3) (tumblr)

What if, when Jack was born, he stayed a baby?

A retelling of season 13, with a few key differences.

No planned schedule, will update when I finish chapters lol

               Chapter 3 - the Sacrament of Confession

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…”

           Mia sat at her kitchen island, rivulets of wine drip and form legs like tiny, burgundy tear tracks each time she swirled her drink. Hours passed since Buddy died, since the hunters and their magical baby left with the shadow that hung over her life for the past few years, rolled up in her antique rug, and she didn’t feel like doing anything else but this. It was funny, though. With Buddy gone, Mia was free to do anything, go anywhere, and all she did with her newfound freedom was climb the few feet from her lobby to her private floor. She camped in her kitchen for hours, drinking; the empty, nearby bottle of wine was full when Mia first retrieved it, an older vintage the cashier advised her to pop open during celebrations.

           She guessed this counted.

           Finishing her drink, Mia pushed both empty glass and bottle to the side. She laid her hands flat against the dark, marble counter and pushed, steadying herself as she stood. The room hardly spun. It wasn’t that strong a wine, especially given her inherited tolerance. Mia chose not to waste another.

           Rather, she felt like taking a lengthy soak in her bathtub. With fancy bubbles and salts mixed in the water, and scented candles perched upon pure porcelain and wooden shelves and whatever space she could find.

           She needed a relaxing bath. She needed to relax. Buddy dying meant she finally could relax.

           Why is it so difficult for Mia, then?

           On her way towards her bathroom, the intercom buzz annoyingly sprang to life.

           Mia jumped, hitting the wall at her back and rocking the few picture frames hanging there. Her chest expanded with frantic breath, mind immediately conjuring an image of Buddy, angry, leaning his whole weight on the buzzer. Soon, she calmed, reminded how that was impossible, now and forever.

           She approached the intercom with more confidence, slapping the receiver in response, cutting off another round of buzzing. “Yes?”

           “Hey, Doc,” a familiar voice drawled, low and raspy, “can I come in?”

           Dean Winchester lapsed into a weighty silence after. He said nothing else that might clue Mia in on why he stood on her porch for the second time this evening. And as Mia learned early on, there’s a lot that can hide beneath such silence.

           A troublesome thought surfaced from the depths of fear simmering in the back of her mind, cloaked in the voice of her mother, sounding like advice she passed onto Mia from her mother who learned from her mother’s mother and so on in a long line of ancestors. “Hunters only come by for one thing,” they warned, “the best thing you can do is run.”

           What if Dean, despite killing Buddy, wasn’t satisfied? What if he returned for her, to make good on his earlier threats? If she let him inside, will he prove her mother and mother’s mother and so on true? Fire a bullet between her eyes in the half a second it took to open the door? Or, if she refused, would he barrel inside regardless and steal this newly returned peace from her?

           Would he stand outside all night, if Mia stayed quiet like she was, and think she abandoned her practice and skipped town halfway through his question?

           Already she drew out her answer too long, and either she spoke in the next few seconds or fled to her bedroom where she’d stay awake until morning, hoping he left. The latter didn’t appeal to Mia. She promised herself that she finished running. That it wasn’t what Mia wanted to do, not anymore. Mia cleared her throat and pressed her finger on the button again. “Sure. I’ll be down in a moment.”

           Mia detoured, grabbing a steak knife from a drawer and hiding it within the folds of her skirt. The knife wouldn’t overpower a gun, if it came to that, but Mia might take him with her.

           Hopefully Mia’s fears stayed exactly that.

           Mia opened the front door slightly, peeking onto the porch through a sliver. Dean stood, his shoulders stooped from exhaustion and a haggard expression across his face that exaggerated every wrinkle on his pretty face. Quickly scanning him, she saw no sign of a weapon. She couldn’t decide if it were better or worse. Mia unfastened the final lock, fully welcoming Dean back into her home. “Dean,” she started, “what can I help you with?” Her grip tightened on the knife, sharp line of its blade shifting against her skirt’s fabric.

           He shuffled towards her, Mia flinching as he did. The knife perked at her side. “Sorry,” he said, both hands rising to greet her. His open, empty palms soothed her somewhat, and weakened her hold on the knife, it wilting into her skirt. “I didn’t come here for a fight.”

           “Then why are you here?”

           “I…” A shudder ran through him like a summer storm, righting his posture instantly. He glanced behind him, into the waiting shadows, as if a ghost might step out of that inky blackness. “Can we talk inside?”

           She owed him nothing. Still, Mia swore an oath when she accepted her diploma. As she noted during his first visit, this was a man who needed help.

           Who would she be if she turned him away, hunter or not?

           “Follow me,” she instructed, turning on her heel without waiting for his answer. His clacking heels let Mia know he trailed after her, from the entryway and up the stairs until she was in her kitchen again. Mia set her knife down on the island, facing Dean as she did. He snorted, raising a brow at the weapon. “What?” she huffed, “a girl can be cautious, can’t she?”

           “You’d be stupid not to be.”

           She rolled her eyes, “Yet here we are.”

           Mia waited for Dean to respond. Instead of snagging the obvious bait, he hunkered down on one of her brass stools, shoulders hunched and fists mangling each other in a facsimile of prayer. She busied herself, setting the empty bottle nearer the sink while she washed clean her glass. Then, Mia asked Dean if he wanted anything. His non-answer meant she needlessly flipped cabinets open and shut, trying to fill a void with something other than words. Mia hadn’t much she wanted to say to Dean.

           But about when Mia checked her refrigerator a third time, her mouth spat loose a question that dripped like drool past her lips and splattered everywhere by the time she realized she asked. “What you do with Buddy?”

           Dean awoke, his eyes darting away from the swirling, enchanting pattern of her countertop. “Do you really care?”

           A deflated no sat on her tongue, unwilling to rise from a lack of something Mia cared too little to analyze at the moment. It wouldn’t do Mia any good doing so, either. She sensed an answer that, in her current state, she might not like. Mia also recognized what Dean tried doing. Therapists smelled avoidance like vamps did blood. She glossed over his question with attempted ease, shrugging, breaking their locked gaze. “Call it being sentimental,” she said, “or curious. Whatever you feel like.”

           Dean kept his judgment close to his chest but offered up what she asked for. “I dropped Sam off at the motel with… with the kid, then I took your ex past city limits. Dug a shallow grave, struck a match – that paint enough of a picture?” She nodded. “Thought so. Sorry ‘bout your rug, by the way. It was nice.”

           “It was Home Goods. I’ll find another just like it.”

           “Of course…”

           Mia stood across from him, separated by the island. Her fingers lightly brushed the knife’s handle. “And you decided the next best place to come was back to the scene of the crime?”

           “I stopped for gas in between,” he told her, “Bummed around at the Gas’n’Sip, bought some gum… not like I was dying to bother you again, or whatever.”

           “But you’re here,” she pestered him, a sly smile crawling across her face as she noticed him squirming, like a worm wriggling for traction in mud. “Why?” Dean remained tight lipped. Mia pushed further. “Therapy didn’t seem like your thing earlier.”

           “Therapy’s for people who have time to whine about their problems.”

           “I think you’re afforded a little time,” Mia said, “especially after losing your mother.”

           Dean grinned, his features stretching like saran wrap to barely conceal his frustration. “Can’t believe you bought all that crap, doc,” he laughed, “Sam and I were stringing you along. None of what he said was true.”

           “So then she didn’t die a few days ago?” she asked, “And this little diversion, this hunt, wasn’t some sort of distraction from that big blowout?” Mia slid the knife towards her, studying her reflection in the blade. “It’s late, Dean. I’m tired. I’m betting you are, too. Sam sure was, only reason I could think of for why he’d spill all that to me while we were alone.”

           She angled the knife Dean’s way, staring at it still. He looked furious in the silver mirror. “Did he mention anything else?”

           Mia returned her gaze, arching her brow. “Was there anything else to mention?”

           This contest ended with Mia the victor, Dean bowing his head in surrender. “…No. I guess there isn’t.”

           A little, natty voice at her ear warned what he said was a lie. She didn’t call him on it, showing some mercy. Mia returned the knife to its drawer, her back facing Dean. “Is there anything you feel like mentioning?” Mia asked him, “About your mom… about what happened… about, hell, why you’re here?”

           Her hand stayed on the knife’s handle as she kept turned away from Dean, her spine rigid and ready to snap at the first scrape of the stool. All she heard was a low exhale of a man with a lax grip on his sanity and some rustling.

           “I was thinking about what you said during our… session,” he mumbled, “about how you practice. How you shift…”

           Mia smiled, closing the drawer with a soft tap. She rounded the island, laying a soothing hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Is there something you want to say, that you didn’t get to?”

           Dean nodded. He pulled his hand out his pocket – she hadn’t noticed it disappeared – and revealed a photograph. It was old. It was bent every which way. It was given to her with trembling hands. “If you don’t mind?”

           She studied the profile, committing details to memory as the beginning pinpricks of the shift startled like morning waves lapping at her feet.

           “Give me a few,” she told Dean, “I won’t be long.”

           Mia retreated for her downstairs bathroom. That room was more accustomed to handling the ooze produced from her shedding. Plus, a bubble bath wasn’t out of tonight’s equation entirely. If she used the one upstairs, that wouldn’t be the case.

           She slipped the photograph between the cabinet mirror and its frame, thumb tracing the profile captured there. Her body roiled with change. Her cracking bones echoed within this small space, bouncing off tiles as she changed to better fit what she saw. In the process, Mia stripped free of her clothes. Then, she peeled away her dark skin for something lighter and, by her guess, calloused.

           Tiny hands doubled in size and calloused. Her jaw became squarer, stubble shadow obvious once her eyes adjusted to their new color. Mia’s hair sat flatter atop her head, lifeless.

           When she dropped the last piece of dead skin into the tub, and her body fell silent as the hum inside quieted, Mia examined her appearance in the mirror. She compared what she saw with the picture. “Not bad…” she coughed, voice and octave deeper, and with a similar twang she heard Dean and Sam speak with earlier. Mia approximated this detail, like she had the height.

           He looked tall, in the photo.

           Mia left the bathroom, diverging briefly for the armoire in her office. She kept a few outfits inside, at least one article of clothing for each size. Her eyes caught a simple, grey button-down and a pair of jeans, not caring to put on much else.

           It’s not like she’ll wear them long.

           Dressed, she shuffled back towards Dean. He moved from the kitchen since Mia left, sitting on one of her sofas in the living room. Dean didn’t flinch when she stepped on a loose floorboard, though its creaking startled her enough to make a tiny gasp. Dean’s focus lingered on his lap, held there with grit and determination if his trembling shoulders were any indication.

           Mia approached him with care. “Dean,” she started, voice gruff but also soft, “I’m right behind you.” She laid her hand on his shoulder, overtly aware how he tensed from his words and then again, somehow worse, once she touched him.

           Dean’s head whipped around so fast she felt the breeze against her now-hairy forearms. “Wow,” he chuckled, a grim sound that didn’t rest easy, “you really look like him.” Mia moved to sit beside Dean, her hands off and in her lap. “So,” he continued, “do I call you Mia, or…”

           “It’s best you speak to me as if I were the man in the photo.”

           Nodding, Dean slid away from Mia, widening the distance between them. He tried meeting her gaze. She noted how his eyes stayed fixed on a point behind her. “Okay,” he said, “uh… this is… this is so weird…” It’s not an unusual reaction to this method. Mia was well accustomed to this routine, waiting, watching him cycle through his discomfort still and silent as an ice sculpture. Every patient, no matter their differing problems, responded the same. “Hey… hi,” Dean squeaked out, deflating, “dad.”

           Mia’s lips thinned in response, the only cue she gave for Dean to keep talking.

           Dean cleared his throat. “It’s… it’s been a while, I guess. That is – that we’re here like this. I know it’s not – you’re not… if you were you, it’d sure be a shock. What am I? Nearing forty… neither of us probably predicted that happening, did we…” He sighed, rubbing away some glistening wetness crowding his eyes. “Fuck, I don’t – I don’t know what I’m doing. Dad… Mia… I don’t – I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here?”

           He begged for an answer with pouted lips and hollow cheeks. Mia, resilient, ignored his pleas. She dipped her chin and raised her brow in practiced ease.

           The combination provoked something terrifying from Dean. A wildfire tore across his face, razing the sadness and confusion. Those softer emotions flew on windswept smoke while the only thing left to see was an ugly fury.

           “You want me to yell?” he asked, voice climbing higher, more frantic, “Is that it? Yell at you? Scream and rant and rave at you until I’m hoarse – because I can do that! I want to… I… I’ve wanted to, for so long.” He leaned closer to Mia, snarling, scaring her. She kept playing statue, not to comfort wounded prey but to protect herself from a rabid predator. “Swallowed so much shit, since good little soldiers didn’t talk back to their drill sergeants. Because that’s what you were. You weren’t a dad, I was. Hell, I was mom, too. I had to be both of these things while you spent every day playing hunter, chasing down the demon that killed mom. To what end? Revenge, for mom? The last thing she wanted was for any of us to get involved in this life, becoming hunters like she was… not like you’d know, since she kept that from you.” He sunk into the sofa, chest heaving, ripping breaths out of the air with deadly intent. Dean spoke, again, in a much calmer tone. His words were sharp and precise, aimed to kill. “You didn’t know who she was. You didn’t know Sam… and you sure as hell didn’t know me. All you ever were concerned about was yourself. You lied to everyone, pretending what you did was for something much more noble than it was. Justified being a shitty dad with excuses, like how hunters can’t be good parents or have childhoods, or that, when mom died, a part of you died, too…”

           Dean paused for far longer than a beat, giving Mia a moment to digest what he said. Recovering from her stupor, she reached across the divide and laid a hand on Dean’s knee. “Dean…”

           He jumped. “I get it,” Dean whispered, “I really do, how you must have felt after mom died. When Cas… I didn’t know I could get more broken than I already was. Seeing him there shattered what little of me there was left. And what sucks is that I can feel myself… feel myself turning into you, but also being aware of who I used to be. It’s like I’m going crazy…” Dean shook with the force of an earthquake, except nothing else in the room moved an inch. “I want to blame someone for making me like this. I want it to be you, I want this to be your fault so bad because it feels like it should… because you didn’t step up when mom was taken from us. You didn’t try to be the adult and forced that job onto a kid who wasn’t ready. You made me become a nurturer, then into a killer – now I’ve got a kid and every few seconds I’m flipping between comforting him or destroying him.” Dean sucked in a deep breath, eyes flooded and red-rimmed. “I hate Jack and I hate that I hate him, but I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to fix it. And I can’t stop thinking about you, because you sure didn’t ask for Yellow Eyes to kill mom. She made that deal… same way Cas did what he did, to protect those they loved. We were the suckers who got stuck picking up the pieces, is all.”

           Dean’s trauma reminded Mia of her first shift, of skin strips peeled slowly one by one, left in a pile of blood and pus. She wiped her own teary gaze, clearing her throat. “Dean –“

           “I don’t,” he talked over her, “I don’t need to hear that you’re sorry. I understand you… but I doubt I’ll ever forgive you. I just… I want to stop feeling like this, so… so full of anger and hate and venom… but empty, at the same time.” Dean sagged, shoulders drooping as he shunted the heavy baggage he carried for, what Mia guessed, decades. “This was stupid,” he said, “I shouldn’t have come here –“

           “Dean,” Mia started, rising, “Wait –“

           “Thanks for trying anyhow, doc,” he mumbled, scurrying towards the stairs, “I’ll see myself out.”

           She stood there, letting Dean run from her home. He clambered down the steps, and when he slammed the door open Mia heard the hinges scream as they rocked from the force.

           Mia sighed. Those hinges called for her. They warned that someone might take advantage of her open front door to come do harm.

           Except no one could hurt her tonight. Nor would they any other night.

           She stripped off the borrowed clothes she wore, marching to her bathroom naked. Mia twisted the knobs beside her faucet, hot water cascading from the spout and filling her tub. Then, she opened her mirrored cabinet for supplies: perfumes, bubble baths, a box of matches and a green cylinder of pre-rolled joints. As she closed the cabinet, her stare lingered on the features of the face she borrowed. Mia traced the edges of Dean’s father’s face, frown deepening with each passing second. “You must have been a real rat bastard when you were alive,” she said.

           Mia struck a match, lighting a joint and all of the candles littered about her bathroom. She dumped a capful of bubble bath into the half-filled tub and added a few drops of perfume. Once the tub reached the inner rim, it looked like a field of bubble-shaped flowers that smelled of lavender with a waterfall she slowly eased to a trickle and then a drought.

           It was the perfect environment for relaxation. Unfortunately, that was the furthest thought from her mind.

           Mia, however, accepted that.

           She slipped into the tub, taking a drag from her joint and huffing smoke past her lips. It clouded the past events, of Buddy’s attack and his death, of Dean Winchester’s breakdown, but didn’t fully remove them. Tonight carved itself a firm place within her mind as a turning point in her life.

           And though her heart ached for Dean, wishing him luck in finding his own version of peace, Mia learned from their session.

           Freedom came slowly, bit by bit, one piece of skin at a time.

           Mia wasn’t sure who she’ll be on the other side of this transformation. She smiled, content with who she was now and reveling in the uncomfortableness of freedom.

[ms-rampage]

Eden’s Gate: The Mother Chapter 1 - Hope County

Warnings: Some swearing

Word count: 1.8k

Where it all began. 

Summary: Mandy Winchester, a single mother who lost custody of her 2 teenage daughters 4 months earlier passes through Hope County, Montana that has been liberated by a doomsday Cult. Upon arrival in Hope County she catches the attention of a certain Leader.

Guest OCs: None

Guest Characters: Archangel Raphael (Supernatural), Chuck/God [mentioned]

Note: This takes place in 2012. Supernatural & Far Cry 5 crossover. 

*********

*Ace of Spades by Motorhead plays over the radio*

If you like to gamble, I tell you I’m you man

You win some, you lose some, all the same to me

41 year old Mandy Winchester drives down the road entering Hope County, Montana.

Passing through to get some gas, food, maybe some beer and rest.

Drumming her fingers along with the song on the wheel, singing along with the song.

The pleasure is to play, makes no difference what you say

I don’t share your greed, the only card I need is the Ace of Spades

The Ace of Spades .

Playing for the high one, dancing with the devil.

Going with the flow, it’s all a game to me.

Driving down the countryside road.

Seven or eleven, snake eyes watching you

Double up, or quit, double stake, or split- 

Not even halfway through the song, the radio cuts out with static. Changing it to some depressing Christian music.

“What the hell?!?” she says, trying to fix the radio.

When none of that helps, she shuts it off. Driving in silence. 

She was told she had to go to Hope County by Archangel Raphael. He didn’t say much on why she had to go. 

All that she had to protect a certain man.

Because “God was gonna speak with him, or that God spoke with him about the end”. Something like that. 

She doesn’t even know this man’s name, or what he looks like. But he did say that she’ll know when she sees him. Her gut will tell her, that still didn’t help. She thought she was wasting her time, she could’ve been looking for her husband’s killer, but Raphael said that this will “help her with what she needed” whatever that meant.

She drives down the road in the Henbane River. 

Nothing unusual, seems like a normal country town. She pulls into the Misty River Gas station. Getting out, putting gas into her truck. 

A quiet town. She knows her daughters would’ve loved it here. As gas is being pumped into her truck, she looks around.

“Passing through?!” a man’s voice asks from behind her.

She turns around to face him, “Yeah, I’m here on business”.

He nods, “Well be careful. There’s a lot of crazies here”.

She chuckles, “Don’t worry”, she pulls out her .45 pistol, “I got that covered”.

He nods his head, smiling, “Well that’s a good start”.

She takes the pump of her truck putting back in the gauge.

“Where can I find a place to eat?!” she asks him. 

“Well you can go to the Spread Eagle bar that's over in Holland Valley, 8 Bit Pizza, Aubrey’s Diner or Whistling Beaver Brewery they’re here in Henbane, or you can go to the Grill Steak that’s over in the Whitetail Mountains”.

Mandy nods her head, “Which one do you prefer?!?”.

He takes a moment, “I would say Spread Eagle”.

She nods her head again, “Alright I’ll check it out. Thanks”.

“No problem. Have a nice day ma’am” he says, going back inside the gas station. 

Mandy takes off down the road. Crossing over a bridge leading to Holland Valley.

“Okay where is this place?!” she asks herself.

Driving through Falls End, she spots the bar. Parking her truck outside. She walks in to it with the smell of chicken wings, and whiskey. Looking around the bar, its not too busy, not too slow, she takes a seat at the bar.

A blonde young woman behind the bar approaches her.

“What can I get you hon?”

Mandy looks down at the menu attached to the bar counter.

“Uhh, I’ll have Guinness, and some chicken wings. Buffalo sauce on the side please. Thank you”.

She gives her order to the cook, and gives her a bottle of Guinness.

“You’re not from around here are you?!” she asks.

Shaking her head, “No, I’m just here on business” she answers.

“What kind of business? If you don’t mind me asking” she asks.

“FBI” she replies. 

She raises her eyebrows, “Really?”.

 She laughs, “No, I’m joking. I’m just passing through”.

“I see you got a sense of humor. We need that around here” she says, cleaning glasses. 

“What’s it like around here?!’ Mandy asks, before taking a sip of her beer.

“It’s quiet. But beware there’s a Cult growing here” she says.

“A Cult?!” she questions.

“Yep, they’ve been growing, kidnapping people to join, stealing property.”

“What about the police?! What are they doing about it?!?” she asks.

Mary May scoffs, “They ain’t doing fucking shit. We have to fend for ourselves”.

“I’m Mary May by the way"

“Mandy” she says. 

“Nice to meet you Mandy” she greets.

She gives Mandy her food, and she eats them, while chatting with Mary.

“So what’s this Cult?!” she asks.

“They’re called the Project at Eden’s Gate”

“A religious cult. They’re the worst” she jokes.

“This Cult ain’t no joke. They’ve kidnapped people, forcing them out of their homes, taking over businesses, killing innocent people if they refuse to join them” Mary tells her, while cleaning the counter, “They’ve tried taking my bar. My father’s bar. I did everything I could to protect this place”.

They talk for another hour, and a few beers later, Mandy leaves for a motel in the Henbane River that Mary May had recommended, King’s Hot Springs Hotel, to get some shut eye. 

She planned on leaving the next day, but unfortunately due to the Cult, she’s trapped in Hope County. Now she has a reason to “protect” this man who is living in Hope County. Doesn’t know his name, what he looks like, none of that shit.

While driving back to the Henbane, on her way to the hotel, she slams on the brakes to her truck. When three bald people run in front of her truck. Looking like they escaped a mental asylum.

“Oh shit!!!” she yells, slamming on the brake pedal. That scared the living shit out of her.

“What the fuck?!?” she says under her breath.

She continues her drive to the hotel. Arriving at the hotel, she walks in, goes up to the front desk

She’s able to get a room, despite all the Cultists running around and stealing properties.

Mandy’s showers, and goes to sleep.

Figuring out who this person Raphael told her about in the morning. In the middle of the night around 1:30am, a loud crash sound of glass breaking from downstairs in the lobby wakes her up. 

Gun shots, and the sound of bodies dropping. Making her room windows vibrate. Heavy footsteps, moving up the stairs. She reaches over to her nightstand, and grabs her pistol.

Waiting for whoever that broke in, to break into her room. 

After a few minutes, her bedroom door bursts open, and before they could even take a step in, and see her.

She fires two bullets at them, one in each of their skulls. Killing them both.

“What the fuck?!?” she mutters.

She checks them both, and one of them as an usual symbol on their forehead. 

“What the fuck is that?!?” she asks herself, examining the symbol. She has never seen anything like it before.

She moves the bodies out of her room, and into the hallway away from her door.

She tries to go back to sleep, but fails to do so. Staying up, listening to every little sound. The sun finally comes up, Mandy gets dressed, and goes downstairs.

The clerk that checked her in is dead, the bellhop is dead.

A few people that were staying there are dead.

She quickly leaves the hotel, and drives towards Aubrey’s Diner for something to eat. On the drive there she sees that same exact symbol on a billboard.

“What the hell is that damn symbol?!?” she asks out loud to herself.

She pulls up to the diner, and it’s been taken over by Cultists.

“Are you fucking serious?!?” she says.

She drives away, and pulls over to the side of the road, near a huge field with cattle.  She sighs, closes her eyes and prays to Archangel Raphael.

“Hey Raphael, it's me Mandy Winchester. You told me to come to Hope County, Montana to protect some man. You didn’t even tell me his name, or tell me what he looks like. So get your feather ass down here, and give me that information!!”.

After a few minutes of silence, she’s about to start her truck and drive away when the fluttering of feathers, and the Archangel appears in her passenger seat.

“Well it’s about time!” she says.

“You prayed for me?!” he asks.

She nods, “Yeah, you told me to come here to protect some man. I don’t know from who, or from what. But you told me I needed to protect him because of Chuck”.

Raphael sighs, “His name is Joseph Seed. You can’t miss him, he wears yellow sunglasses, and is often shirtless. A very distinguished character”.

Mandy shrugs, “Okay where would I find Joseph Seed?!”.

“His compound. The middle island between the Whitetails, and Henbane. The one that's all fenced up” he says.

“Okay, so what do I do?!” she asks.

“You’ll have to wait” he says.

“For what?!”.

“For him to approach, or ask for you. God has mentioned you to him” he tells her.

“Why would Chuck say that to him?!” she asks, concerned. 

“He didn’t say. All he said to Joseph was that “A woman will make herself clear to you, and will be your guide”. That’s all he said to me, but I’m sure he said more to Joseph”.

Mandy sighs in frustration, “Great, so what do I do?!. Just sit around, and wait for him to notice me?!”.

“God will tell him of your arrival” he tells her.

“So when I do meet him, what do I say to him?!?. “I’m here to protect you?!”, or “God sent me?!”, what do I tell him?!”.

“Whatever Joseph says to you. Go with it. It is important that you protect him. From death, being arrested, anything that’ll cause him to be gone, or in danger”.

***********************************************

Joseph’s compound

The Church of Eden’s Gate just finished having their sermon, spoken by The Father Joseph Seed.

God has been speaking to him, about the arrival of a particular woman that will guide the Project to the gates of Eden.  After the sermon, Joseph gets lost in a trance, lost in his visions, he closes his eyes, the voice speaking to him.

Telling him, “She has arrived, she is here. She will show herself. The Mother will guide you, and your flock to the New World”.

Mandy’s face shows in Joseph’s mind. Her smile, driving in her truck, filling it up, eating at the Spread Eagle, checking into the King’s Hot Springs Hotel, and killing one of his followers. 

“Father?, Father Joseph? Are you okay?” one of his followers asks.

He opens his eyes. “Yes my child. It was just a vision" he responds.

“A vision?” they ask.

“Yes, she has arrived. The Mother has arrived” he answers, turning to face them.

[aloha-cowgirl]

Willing to Bet: Ch. 2

This was written for the SPN Stay-at-Home Challenge. @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 @pray4jensen  

Monday 5: Motel (Read it on AO3)

[1754 words - Destiel, Sharing a Bed, BUT THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Bi Panic]

Last week’s fic obviously caught fire in my imagination, because not only did I write a second chapter that’s 3 times as long, but I have ideas for 3 more chapters now.

The road ahead was clear and dark. Sam had joined Eileen in Atlanta on a vamp-hunt, so Cas was currently settled in the passenger seat, relaxing back on the leather and contently watching the trees go by. He sometimes moved his hands together, twiddling his thumbs, interlacing his fingers and releasing them again, thumbing the edges of his fingernails. Dean had been stealing glances throughout their journey and noticed this habit of Castiel’s and wondered what would happen if he were to just grab his hand and hold it in his own… to stop the fidgeting, of course.

It was nearing midnight. Dean had driven through the night who knows how many times before, but he wasn’t in any hurry tonight. Sam wouldn’t be back for a few days, so there really wasn’t any reason to rush back to the bunker.

“Let’s stop for the night,” he finally said, carefully keeping his eyes on the asphalt. “Get some rest, breakfast in the morning and drive the rest tomorrow.”

Castiel’s brows twitched in question, but he just nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Dean repeated, switching lanes to take the next exit.

Ten minutes later, they were driving through a quaint little old-fashioned town, each looking out the windows in search of a motel.

“Apparently outsiders aren’t welcome in friggin’ Mayberry,” Dean grumbled as they turned onto another tree lined street.

“There’s one,” Cas said after a few more minutes of Dean’s complaints.

Sure enough, a Vacancy sign was lit in the window of an office flanked by what looked more like a cluster of tiny dollhouses than the motels they typically stayed in.

“I don’t know whether to call this place cute or creepy,” Dean said as he pulled into the parking lot.

Cas grinned. “I think it’s charming.”

Dean rolled his eyes and held back a smile as they grabbed their bags from the trunk.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

They headed inside to find that the dollhouse aesthetic carried right into the motel lobby with its deep green carpeting and flowery wallpaper. There was a grandmotherly old woman waiting at the counter with pink-framed glasses, bouffant hair, and a friendly smile.

“Welcome to the Rosemont Motel, gentlemen. My name is Marla. How can I help you? Are you here for the festival?”

Dean and Cas each looked at the other with raised brows before Dean shook his head. “Uh, no. No, we’re just passing through.”

“Oh, what a shame!” Marla waved hand toward a poster beside the desk. “The Rose Festival is this weekend and the whole town will be out. We’re nearly booked up here.” Her gleeful smile was evidence enough that the little town didn’t often get visitors.

“Not completely booked, I hope,” Dean said, leaning forward with a charming smile.

Marla batted a hand toward him with a blush. “We do still have one room available.” She slid her ledger toward Dean to sign while he passed her a credit card. “I’m sure you two will be nice and cozy. Maybe you can even pass through the festival on your way out of town tomorrow.”

“I think that would be lovely,” Cas said as Dean accepted their key. Marla beamed as they bid her goodnight and left the lobby.

As expected, the room matched the rest of the place—plush pink carpet and striped wallpaper. However, what was not expected was the lone queen-sized four-post bed. Dean stared at it for a moment too long before Cas stepped up beside him.

“Well, Marla said we’d be nice and cozy.”

Dean felt his ears turning red.

“Shut up, Cas.”

He dropped his bag on the end of the bed, fished out some sweats and hurried into the bathroom to shower. Once behind the closed door, he leaned forward on the sink and stared at himself in the mirror.

This is what you wanted, you idiot. You wanted to stop for the night. You wanted to stretch this whole thing out... So, suck it up, dumbass. It’s all in your head.

He shook his head at his reflection and turned on the shower, not waiting for the water to warm up before stepping in.

When he came out of the bathroom, still toweling his hair, Cas was sitting on one side of the bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs crossed at the ankles and the television remote beside him. He’d changed into a t-shirt and a pair of soft flannel pants, and while that sight was enough for Dean to consider just staying awake all night, it was the television that distracted him.

“Are you—are you watching Dr. Sexy?” he asked, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, one foot still on the floor, the other knee up on the bed so he could face the old tube-style television that sat on an old painted dresser. “Wait, is this in—?”

“Spanish, yes,” Cas answered. “This television doesn’t get many channels, and this was the most interesting thing on.”

“I think that TV is older than you are, buddy,” Dean said, finally sliding back on the bed to lean against the headboard beside Cas. “Wish I knew what they were saying,” he said mostly to himself.

Cas leaned a bit toward the center of the bed. “Dr. Piccolo and Dr. Sexy are arguing over the ethics of Mrs. Beale’s experimental face transplant.”

“Yeah, that Mrs. Beale seemed pretty shady.” Dean shifted on the bed to get more comfortable. If he happened to have leaned a little toward Cas, well, it was just because he was listening intently. “Ooh, what’s up with Johnny Drake?”

By the time Cas had translated the remainder of the episode, the two were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the bed. Cas hugged a frilly pillow to his chest while Dean had tucked his feet beneath the floral comforter. Their laughter at Dr. White walking in on Dr. Sexy and Dr. Piccolo in the on-call room (again) died down, leaving them in an awkward silence when the credits finished rolling and the screen switched to an infomercial for some miracle fix-it product. Neither had moved and it felt like tension was radiating from the spot where their arms were pressed together.

They both reached for the remote at the same time, Cas reaching it first, and Dean’s traitorous hand paused for just a millisecond too long on top of Cas’s. So, while Cas turned off the television, Dean quickly ducked under the covers, turning on his side to hide the redness that was most certainly creeping over his face right now.

When the room was covered in darkness, Dean could feel Cas shifting behind him, sliding under the blankets and arranging his pillow. He thought back to the days when Cas was a full-powered angel, when he didn’t need to eat or sleep and spent his nights watching over the Winchesters—especially Dean. Sure, it was weird back then, but when he thought about it now it almost made him smile. Cas still had days when he could get by without food or rest, but Dean knew him well enough to see that a good meal and a good night’s rest made him feel better.

Dean could feel the warmth of Cas’s back facing his own, and while distracted by his drowsy thoughts, he’d inched ever so slightly closer to the center of the bed. Cas, apparently, had done the same thing because they were suddenly pressed back to back. Both tensed momentarily, but when neither moved to recreate the space between them, they slowly relaxed, letting their weight meet in the middle as they drifted off into sleep.

Dean slept more peacefully than he had in quite a long time. The sun was fully up and streaming through the gauzy curtains by the time he groaned into consciousness.

In the night, Dean had apparently turned onto his opposite side and his face was now pressed up against the top of Cas’s head, his arms wrapped tightly around broad shoulders. Cas was nestled close, his head tucked against Dean’s chest, his hand resting on Dean’s waist. From their position, it seemed Dean had likely been the one to pull Cas close and Cas had curled right in. Their bodies fit together so well and warm that before Dean was fully awake, he kissed the top of the head he was cradling.

When he finally opened his eyes, they were wide and full of panic, realizing what he’d just done. He wanted to run from the bed, but he was currently tangled up in angel limbs, which had snaked around his waist pulling him closer in response to that little kiss on his head.

Shit, shit, shit! There was nothing that Dean could do. He and Cas were both awake, wrapped up in one another’s arms. They simultaneously moved, each retreating to his own side of the bed.

“I—I’m gonna…” Dean pointed at the bathroom, quickly grabbed his toothbrush, and hurried into the bathroom to hide for the second time since they’d arrived at this damned dollhouse motel. He turned on the tap and considered drowning himself in the sink, but settled on splashing the cold water on his face before brushing his teeth. He still had the toothbrush in his mouth when he looked up to his reflection with a panicked realization.

Did I—Jesus, I fucking kissed him. I kissed the top of his head. What the FUCK.

When he couldn’t feasibly hide in the bathroom any longer, he ducked his head and returned to the room. Cas had already changed out of his flannel pants and was pulling on his shoes. He looked up at Dean and gave him a small unperturbed smile as though he hadn’t woken up with his face pressed against Dean’s chest not more than fifteen minutes ago.

“Should we get some breakfast?”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at himself. What was he hiding from? He hadn’t woken up with some stranger… This was Cas, the angel that pulled him from Hell, the angel that watched over him as he slept, the angel that like peanut butter and honeybees. The angel that wrapped his arms around him tight when Dean kissed his sleepy head… the angel that maybe he was a little in love with.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled. “Breakfast. And, uh, maybe we can check out that Rose Festival before we head out.” He looked up tentatively, waiting for Castiel’s reaction.

Cas grinned. “I’d like that.”

@rauko-is-a-free-elf @petrichoravellichor @crack–attack @katekarnage7 @ladygotsoul @all-or-nothing-baby @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @dammitsammy @dizzypinwheel

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Stay Ch. 18

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Violence, feels, uh... stuff...

A/N:  Well... Just know I always knew this was coming and I think that once y’all read it you’ll realize why it took me so long to just sit down and do the fucking thing. 

Tags are open!

Post-Snap

Your hand trembles as you dial the code for the voicemail. It takes several tries for it to go through. There’s nothing there… You knew but…

You slam the phone on the table so hard the woman at the table next to yours jumps. Swallowing hard you force yourself to give her an apologetic smile, though you suspect it comes across as more of a grimace.

The sounds of the bar begin to overwhelm your senses. Radio chatter and static, people talking, crying, glass clinking, it all rises in your ears until it practically hurts. Your chest tightens, heart thundering in your ears. In your desperation to escape you almost send the table toppling over as well as a few people in the lobby.

Outside the sounds don’t quiet. Thunder rolls, cars replace the clinking glass, somewhere a siren screams and you think you may join it.

You stumble down a nearby alleyway and press your back to the concrete, covering your ears, begging it to stop. The air seems too thick to breathe, even the sound of your own pulse seems too much.

Too much thinking… too many memories… you feel like your chest may split and that would be bad for so many reasons… The sky beats you to it.

Lightning cracks, rain begins to pelt your skin. You sit as the water and memories wash over you, unable to stop either.

June 2009

The budget motel room you’d been in for the past month looked like the den of a serial killer.

It didn’t matter to you. You needed to see it all laid out, needed to look at the pattern because something was unfolding for you…

Over the past year and a half since Budapest, you hadn’t taken any jobs, gone mostly off the grid hunting your white whale. Bit by painstaking bit you had pulled together pieces of a sinister puzzle that spanned from just before World War II to now. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you had everything you needed… it was just a matter of putting them all together into something that somehow made sense.

That was where the issue lay. You knew that this had something to do with the Nazi science unit called Hydra, you knew somehow that organization had influenced almost a century of clandestine activity since being disbanded, you knew they even had involvement in the Red Room… What wasn’t clear was who they were now… or better yet, where. Thin threads of connection, some so fine you almost doubted yourself, went to so many things. You just couldn’t make it all fit.

You think of calling Natasha. Sometimes it helped to just hear her voice even if you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to her about all this just yet. And you missed her. It had been a few months since you’d seen one another. Maybe tomorrow…

Drunk, frustrated, and utterly sick of staring at the documents, photos, and your own notes that scattered the walls of the room you collapse face first into the bed. Sleep. That would help. Maybe you’d wake up and it would all make sense.

Hours later your foggy disjointed mind registers that your phone is ringing… has been ringing. Your hand flops in the darkness for the screaming rectangle. It’s a number you don’t know but that’s not so unusual.

“Huh,” you groan in answer.

“Palais.” A woman’s voice manages, thick with emotion. But… it’s not Natasha.

“Who the fu-” The line goes dead.

A tremor shakes your whole body. Without a second thought, you flip the lights on and begin to tear the room apart, shoving all your research into your bag haphazardly. Sure, this could easily be a trap but you weren’t willing to risk it. Whatever was there you’d handle it.

With one last sweep of the room, you’re out the door and into the shitty car you’d purchased a few weeks prior in less than an hour. You’d been in Krakow, about four hours from Vienna. You screech to a stop in front of The Palais in just under three, every traffic law known to man broken in your haste.

You don’t even look at the valet when you hurl your keys to him and rush inside.

Desperate eyes scan the lobby for red hair and a heart-stopping smile, even Clint’s face would have been something but… nothing. Then you see someone you hadn’t even thought of in years.

“Hill?” You croak tapping her shoulder. That one moment of contact sends an image so vivid searing through you it’s a wonder you don’t combust. Natasha, pale, covered in blood. Hill’s fear, sadness, guilt… Oh god.

Words completely fail you. Hill turns and gets off her stool, approaching you speaking words you aren’t hearing. You just keep backing up, head shaking whispering, “No, no, no nonono,” over and over until it’s just a sound and not a word at all.

That now familiar feeling of your chest tearing at the seams begins and you know that it would be terrible for all these people to feel this but you can’t help it.

She grabs your shoulders and shakes you, “She’s not dead, Y/N!” Clarity begins to flood your system. “I need you to pull it together.”

You nod, blinking hard. “I’m sorry… I saw…”

“She’s hurt. But she’s gonna make it. I’m here to take you to her.” For a minute you stare at Hill, remembering your first exchange and how cold she’d been… “She’s my friend.” There’s nothing but truth in her words.

You grab your things from the car, leave the keys with the valet and climb into the front seat of Hill’s car. Anxiety curls like a snake in your belly, remembering the drive to the jet you’d taken all that time ago but before you’re even able to ask she tells you.

“We’ve got a small jet in a private airport here, we’ll be there in less than two hours.” The only response you can manage is a nod.

Once you’re on the jet and headed toward Odessa you’ve had time to roll the image you lifted from Hill over in your mind enough times for the rage to settle in. Natasha hadn’t told you she’d be anywhere near Odessa…

“Ask.” Hill’s tone is gravel.

“Why waste my precious breath?”

“What’s that mean?”

“Not like you’d tell me shit anyway.”

“Why would I offer if-”

“You didn’t offer. You said ‘Ask’ that’s a bait, not an offer. And trust me I’ve got half a fuckin’ mind to just take the information from you regardless of-”

“It was supposed to be an easy mission.” She cuts you off, voice steady. Her eyes meet yours and you’re hit with something you didn’t anticipate, remorse. “In and out in deep shadow. But somehow-”

“Whose orders?” You practically whisper.

“What?”

“Who’s. Fucking. Orders?”

“I… Fury… but…”

“Who gave him the intel?”

“I don’t know?”

“Hill… I swear to god I will-”

“I do not fucking know, Y/N.” Her eyes burn into yours. Truth, nothing but the truth, all of it. “Why?”

You stare at her, something churning inside of you, your brain still plucking at those threads, still trying to fit the pieces together… “Nothing.”

“You can tell me.” You don’t respond. “Like I said, Natasha is my friend I want to know who-”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Her eyes glue onto the open sky.

“But when I know,” you say after a few minutes of feeling her conviction roll off her in waves, “I’ll need your help bringin’ ‘em down.”

Hill’s brown eyes latch on to your own. The two of you share a moment beyond words and she nods. You know then that no matter where this leads she’ll have your back… and that maybe you’ve found a new friend too.

When you get off the jet you refuse to let your bags out of your sight. You weren’t about to let anyone from S.H.I.E.L.D. touch a damn thing you’d worked to gather, especially now.

You expect to see Fury when you walk in but it’s Clint, bleary-eyed and stoop-shouldered. His demeanor stops your heart.

He must read your face though because before you speak he tells you what you need to hear, “She’s ok, Y/N.”

Relief floods your system and you find yourself accepting his open arms without question. Tears burn hot in your eyes but you hold them back, not ready to let the flood gates open.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Why?”

“I should’ve been there, should’ve-”

“Don’t.” He pulls back and you study his face, his guilt like a cloud around him. “This isn’t on you, Clint.” But you were going to find out who was responsible.

“Any word on ballistics yet?” Hill asks from behind you.

“Mhm,” frustration creases his forehead. “Soviet slug. No rifling. It’s a dead end.”

It may be a dead end to them but you’d seen that signature pop up over and over in your research. The implications… your blood runs cold.

“She should be out soon,” Clint rests a warm hand on your shoulder. “It nicked an artery so it’s taking a little time to get her patched.”

“Where’s Fury…” Your tone drips with malice.

“This isn’t Fury’s fault, Y/N… Come on sit and-”

You pull away from him, “Where is he, Clint?”

Hill answers, looking at her phone. “He’s en route. Should be here in an hour or so.”

“Thank you.” Now you do sit next to Clint.

After a few minutes, Hill disappears to take a call. Leaving you two alone.

“Distract me with pictures of the only children I like.”

“Pretty sure they’re the only children you know," he laughs.

“True. Still.”

He doesn’t need convincing. Laura and the kids were a well-kept secret, but he loved talking about them. The distraction is sweet and needed until Hill returns.

The more time that passes the more your panic rises. Clint holds your shaking hand tight and you rest your head on his shoulder, so fucking thankful to have him here. Hill paces, chewing her nails. None of you speak.

After almost an hour that felt more like a decade, the surgeon finally comes out. You and Clint practically fall over yourselves scrambling to your feet.

The surgeon smiles, “She’ll be fine.”

“Can I… Can I see her?” The surgeon looks to Hill and she nods.

“As soon as she’s settled you can go in.”

The three of you embrace in relief. She was ok. You wouldn’t need to kill Fury. Things were looking up.

Natasha’s still out when you’re ushered into the small room they have her in. Her skin is so pale in the harsh lights, the skin under her eyes dark, her lips lacking their usual rosy tint. The image makes your breath catch.

You lean down and kiss her cool lips softly before you whisper in her ear, “I’m here, honey. I love you.”

You’re unsure how long you’ve been in the room, holding her hand, willing those emerald eyes to look at you when Hill knocks.

“Hey,” her voice is low, “sorry, Fury and…” she clears her throat, “Secretary Pierce want to see you.”

“That’s nice.” Nothing would remove you from this room. Not until she woke up.

“I can, stay here and-”

“Sorry, but you can let them know I’ll talk to them after she wakes up and not a goddamn second before.” Hill swallows hard, “Deliver that in whatever way won’t get you fired. But I don’t fucking work for them,” yet, “and I don’t come when they call.”

She doesn’t say anything else, just heads out.

Your hand still locked on Nat’s you lay your head on the narrow mattress and drift off for a bit. Fingers pushing your hair back wake you with a start.

“Natasha!” She gives you a weak smile.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” your voice cracks as you gently cover her face with kisses. “Don’t scare me like that honey…”

“I’m sorry. I thought…”

“Shh. No, it’s ok… I… just can’t lose you.” You kiss her a touch harder this time.

“Y/N,” she takes hold of one of your hands so tight it almost hurts. “It was-”

“I know.”

Fear flashes in her eyes and your heart constricts, “They always said he’d come for me… and he did. Y/N if he, you…”

“Hush.” You kiss her trembling knuckles. “I won’t let that… thing… or anyone close enough to hurt you again, got it?” You swallow hard knowing what it would take for you to keep that promise.

“I love you, Natasha.” You focus on that warm, golden feeling, and open it to her. Instantly her features relax.

“I love you too.”

You kiss her lips, noting the color creeping back. “I’m gonna get Clint. Fury wants to chat but I’ll be back.”

“Ok.”

Reluctantly, you grab your bag and head out of the room. Hill is at the end of the hall.

“Assuming you’re here to be my escort to the big boss men?”

“Yup,” she smiles at you.

You give Clint a hug as he heads to Nat’s room and steel yourself for the conversation you’re about to have… and the commitment you’re willing to make.

Hill opens the door and you step in knowing full well that your life is about to change. But maybe… just maybe for the better.

You’d never met Alexander Pierce but you’d read plenty about him over the years. He’s almost a foil to Fury’s stoicism. When you enter Pierce smiles brightly at you, the man certainly doesn’t look his age.

“Miss Y/N, pleasure,” he extends a hand. You think it’s a bold move until you take it and get next to nothing. Much like Fury, this man is guarded.

“Secretary Pierce. Fury.” You nod at him, he remained seated, glowering.

“I expected you to come in here guns blazing.”

“If she had died I would have,” you sit across from them. “Since she’s very much alive I’m willing to talk.”

Fury holds your gaze. All you’d found for him since your last meeting were a few sloppy low-level agents lining their pockets with dirty money. That only came to light because they had a gossamer tie to one of the orgs that seemed to be linked to this Hydra thing… They were your focus, it didn’t leave much room for S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Well?” Fury breaks the silence.

“Well, what? I was told the two of you wanted to chat so here I am.”

Pierce smirks, “I like her.”

Fury rolls his eyes. “I thought you were keeping an eye out for-”

“I kept both eyes out for faults in your organization if they came up in my own research, that was our deal. I delivered you the faults I found. If I had anything else I would have handed it over.” Silence hangs again.

Your frustration snaps. “Is this all you wanted? Do you really think if I had a shred of intelligence that would imply she’d be in someone’s crosshairs that I’d let it slide?! Come on Fury.”

“That’s not why we wanted to speak with you,” Pierce’s tone is level. His cool eyes catch yours, giving away nothing. “We simply wanted to know if you had any theories as to where we could start finding holes in our intelligence system.” Your brows rise, “Obviously you’ll be compensated. But it’s clear that we have a bit of a problem here…”

“Well,” you sigh, “you can start by putting me on your intel team.”

“Are you shitting me?” Fury looks genuinely surprised. “Because if so, Y/N, I’ll have you know I am not in a joking mood.”

“No jokes. No small print.” Everything in your gut is telling you not to do this but you need to have Natasha’s back… This was too close, you won’t let it happen again. His look says he doesn’t believe you.

“Look… I coulda lost her and it would’ve been on me. Because had I taken your offer last time… well, let’s just say there’s no way in hell something like this would have gotten past me.”

“You seem very sure of yourself.” Pierce isn’t mocking just being matter of fact.

“I don’t have a big head or an ego about what it is I do, Secretary Pierce. I simply have certain abilities that allow me to be the best at what I do. That simple.” He nods, a soft smile on his lips.

“Ok,” Fury slides a file over to you. “Take a look and tell us if you have any thoughts on who our mystery assailant is.”

You slide the file back to him. “I don’t need to look. I know.”

“Oh?” There’s a slight change in Pierce’s demeanor. A tickle of something. Excitement maybe?

“I’m also fairly certain I have an idea of who’s behind the trigger man too. But… I’d rather not say.”

Fury sighs, “If you’re going to be a part of this, of my team, you’re going to have to get used to giving up your intel freely. ‘I’d rather not say,’ isn’t gonna fly.”

He’s right… but you refuse to lay all your cards on the table at once. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy but… The Winter Soldier put a bullet in Natasha-”

“And is Santa the one behind the trigger man?” Pierce has an eyebrow cocked high. “The Winter Soldier is a ghost story.”

“You don’t believe in ghosts, Secretary?”

“Of course not.”

You smirk, “How about telepaths? Or empaths? Hell, didn’t some giant green fucker wreck Harlem not too long ago?”

“Well… yes but-”

“The world is full of freaks, far as I can tell it always has been. We just got sick of bein’ burned at the stake so we got better at hidin’. I’d suggest you approach things like ghost stories with an open mind, Mr. Secretary.”

“Still like her?” Fury quips.

“Very much so,” Pierce gives you another broad smile.

A little over an hour later and you’ve effectively agreed to do the only thing you never thought you’d do… put yourself on a leash. True… it was a very long leash with some pretty sweet perks but still, something in you rankled at the thought.

The next day you’re on the jet, heading into truly unknown waters for the first time in a very long time… But the feeling of Natasha’s hand in your own, her sweet tired smile, these things remind you why you’re doing this. You’ll keep her safe… no matter what.

-

Your first few days in DC are a blur. Natasha is still being held in the hospital for safety, and though you have full access to her place you’re still by her side every free second you have. Those seconds are few and far between because you’re constantly needing to run to S.H.I.E.L.D. for something it seems.

Papers need signing, blood taken, quick physical endurance tests. You beg Hill to just try and put this shit off until Nat is out but no. S.H.I.E.L.D. had a certain way of doing things, there was no way around it.

When you enter Natasha’s room on the third night you swear she’s literally glowing. Her smile takes your breath away and all you want to do is kiss her lips raw.

“Still not sick of me?” You ask as you bend down to kiss her.

“Never.” She cups your face in her hands, “You look tired, baby.”

“Aww, thanks, hun.”

“Shut up,” she bats at you playfully. “Seriously though…”

You sit in the chair next to her, unable to meet her piercing stare that can always see through you. Instead, you study the way your hands connect, hope she’ll drop it. She, of course, doesn’t.

“Y/N, look at me,” her tone is so soft you can’t help but obey. “I’m getting out tomorrow.”

“Honey that’s amazing!” You jump up and wrap her in your arms, tears of joy stinging the back of your eyes.

She hugs you back as tight as she can before gripping your shoulders and holding you away at arm’s length, “I want you to do something for me before then.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to go home… er, to my place.” A slight blush hits her cheeks and your heart trips over itself. “I want you to order take out, take a long bath, sleep in a real bed, and come get me tomorrow.”

“Nat I-”

She holds her fingers against your lips to silence you, “You’re no good to me exhausted.” A smirk stretches across her lips and she winks. “Tomorrow… we get to really start our lives… together.”

You take her hand away from your mouth and kiss her knuckles.

Her tone shifts, “I know it’s a lot all at once… I’m still amazed you did this but… I’m thankful.”

“I’m thankful too, honey.” You mean it. Sure, you were still terrified of what it meant to be under someone but it meant you got her. The fear was worth it.

“Now,” she rips her hand from yours, “ get outta here.”

You laugh, “Yes ma’am!” Stiffly you stand and give a mock salute.

She giggles, “Kiss me.” You do. Thoroughly.

You’re both panting by the end, foreheads pressed together. “If I don’t see leftover Chinese or pizza there tomorrow I’m going to assume you didn’t properly binge.”

“I think I can manage, Nat.” You kiss her forehead.

“Menus are all in the drawer by the oven.”

“Got it.” Once more you press your lips to hers before staring deep into those spectacular eyes. “I love you, Natasha.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

-

As you settle onto the couch after a long soak to wait for your pizza and watch Steel Magnolias you have to admit that Natasha was very right. You needed this, badly. And tomorrow she’d be right here next to you, in your arms.

A life filled with a strange sort of domestic bliss peppered with plenty of espionage-related shenanigans plays in your imagination, louder than the movie. You could have real date nights, find favorite local spots to visit more than just a handful of times. Sure you’d have stretches apart to work different jobs, but nothing like it had been. And the best part was that Fury agreed to let you vet every single gig Natasha was assigned. So even if you weren’t with her you’d still be able to have her back in some way.

You don’t even realize you’re smiling until your cheeks start to ache. This would be fine. A sense of peace settles over you, nice, warm, and so foreign.

Finally, a knock at the door tells you the star of the evening has arrived.

“One second,” you fish some cash from your bag and open the door.

Your heart stops.

“Hey, Oracle.” A familiar sinister voice intones from a cocky smirk.

Too slow you try to slam the door but Rumlow’s booted foot stops it fast. Clumsily you stumble back.

Dodging his lunge you bolt for the kitchen and the gun you know is hidden under the island countertop. Your fingers fumble to release it and a knife lodges in your upper arm. You cry out but still manage to get the weapon, holding it up with one shaky hand.

He laughs, “Shoot.”

You do. But as soon as you squeeze the trigger a metal hand grabs your wrist from behind you causing the shot to miss.

Pure terror fills your chest as that hand breaks your wrist with one, effortless squeeze. You don’t even scream.

“Yeah didn’t come alone this time, bitch.” Rumlow saunters toward you. He grabs your chin, “I’m gonna have a good time with you.”

It doesn’t take thought or effort to force every single negative emotion you’re feeling toward Rumlow. He gasps, releasing you as he steps back.

Feeling the hand at your wrist loosen a touch you seize the moment of distraction. You slam your left elbow back into the chest of who or rather what you’re certain is The Winter Soldier. He hardly huffs at the contact. Instead, he spins you around pinning you to the wall, flesh hand on your neck.

Half of his face is covered in a mask so you can’t make contact there. But his arm would be enough. Your left-hand latches onto the exposed skin of his forearm and you pull anything you can hoping the blow is enough to throw him.

The flood of images though… A half-choked scream tears through your throat from under the steady pressure of his hand. Pain. Hot, electric, blinding. Fear, panic, desperation, words… German… no Russian. A flash of a man screaming from a train car… a word… a name…

“Bucky,” you gasp feeling your body begin to go slack.

You don’t know if it’s the name or the slap of your power to is brain but he releases you, stepping back, brows knitting, frozen in place. Desperately you draw in air. Where there had been nothing in his eyes before now something flickers in them. Not that it matters.

Rumlow is on his knees grasping his chest. The Soldier looks like… a broken doll. A shiver creeps up your back as you bolt, amazed that he doesn’t immediately pursue you.

Your feet are barely on the asphalt of the alley behind the building when you hear someone above you. Not daring to look up you run as fast as your legs can carry you toward the lit street…

Two sharp pains sear from each of your thighs and you tumble face first to the ground. Looking back you can see the hilt of a knife sticking out.

The Soldier slowly approaches you. This time you focus the pain and fear filling you at him the moment he’s close as you try to crawl away. He staggers but continues forward. You’re not shocked after what you felt when you pulled his memories…

Eyes cold as any you’ve ever seen, pin you as he kneels and rips the knife from your right thigh.

“Fuck!” You scream, a sob threatening, you won’t allow it. “Please, Bucky,” he pauses before tearing the other out. Still… he does it. You cry out and he lifts you by the neck of your tee.

The name… “That’s your name right?! Bucky.” Flicker of something behind the eyes. “Please, please don’t do this…”

Your left-hand shoots up and grazes his forehead before he catches your arm, pinning it against the wall. It was enough to pull more flashes of horror from him.

“What did they do to you?” Your voice cracks.

There’s a moment of hesitation before his metal hand cracks across your temple sending you plunging into darkness.

-

Ice cold water splashes across your naked body and you gasp as consciousness comes flooding back to you.

The taste of blood fills your mouth. Your head throbs. Your right wrist and both thighs scream with pain. And your freezing, tied to a metal chair.

“Sorry about the harsh wake-up.” After a moment your eyes focus on the source of the voice. Secretary Pierce… “You were taking a little too long to come to and we’re working on a tight schedule tonight.”

Silence hangs as you stare at him, the Soldier posted to his back left. All the pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to put together for so long click horrifyingly into place. Bile rises in your throat.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was the front for your job on Natasha because Hydra was the one actually behind it… And that gig hadn’t just been about her… it had been about you too. Everything since had been linked in some way to Hydra, the children’s hospital, them bringing Nat into S.H.I.E.L.D., Budapest… Odessa…

That same broad smile he wore in Odessa fills his face, “You’ve been stumbling around us for some time now, Y/N.” He stands, rolling up his sleeves, “Honestly, it’s been impressive. You’ve exceeded expectations in every situation we’ve orchestrated.”

He holds his hand out to the Soldier who hands him a phone. Your phone.

“And then, Budapest! I mean, when we heard from that grunt what you’d done to him and his men. I couldn’t believe how lucky we were. You even shook this one,” he motions a thumb to the Soldier. “Extraordinary.”

He stands a couple of feet from you, flipping your phone in his hands. “Nothing?”

“You seemed to enjoy monologuing.”

He laughs, “I really do like you.” Pierce sighs, “If only we weren’t so short on time. I’d love to be the one to break that smart mouth. But there’s business to get to.”

“I’m not doin’ shit for you, you fuckin’ Nazi prick.” Your voice is a low rumble.

“Nazi is such a tired term and really inaccurate.” He signals to some unseen person and an image flicks up on the white wall behind him.

Natasha’s hospital room. She’s sound asleep. Your chest constricts.

“Like I said, business to get to.” The image disappears.

“If you take me she’s gonna come for you,” that terrifies you. It takes focused effort to hold it all inside… who knows what they’d do if you were perceived to attack this sack of shit.

“Oh, I know. She’d likely find a way to get Fury in on it too I have no doubt.” Fury knew nothing about this, you’d expected as much. “So we’re going to take care of that.” With a nod of his head, the Soldier approaches and stands ready beside him.

“Fury made your hesitation about joining S.H.I.E.L.D. clear to me on our way to Odessa. In fact, he was convinced that even after that incident you’d still refuse to join. So the thought that you’d run from all of this isn’t so far fetched.”

Carefully you coach your features. This man thought he knew so much…

“You’re going to call and leave a little goodbye message. She’ll still look for you and I will happily be providing her with some S.H.I.E.L.D. resources with which to do so.” Fuck. “After all,” his tone is sickening, “who doesn’t want to help true lovers reunite?”

He dials and gives the phone to the Soldier to hold to your ear. “I suggest you keep it short and sweet.”

The voicemail tone sounds, “I’m sorry honey… I just… I can’t do this,” your heart shatters with every syllable. “Being on someone’s leash… it’s just too much, Natasha. I-” You almost end with I love you but there’s another way you can tell her that and alert her to the danger all at once. “We’ll always have the… Palais.”

You nod and the Soldier crushes the phone in his metal fist. A part of you goes with it.

“I could shed a tear. Very Casablanca.” The Soldier retakes his place beside Pierce. “You remember Casablanca don’t you?” He directs it toward the Soldier, voice dripping with condescension before he pats the side of his face. “Of course you don’t.”

The question falls from your lips before you can stop it, “What did you do to him?”

“Me?” Pierce jesters to his chest. “I didn’t do this. He’s the product of a bygone era. But don’t you worry, your brain is far too precious for us to wipe clean.” The smile on his face this time is sinister, “We’ll have to get a little more creative with you.”

With that, he turns on his heels to leave.

“Oh!” He turns back. “And I’m sure you’ve figured this out but I want our terms to be clear. As long as you cooperate she doesn’t get another unwanted hole in her body. Understood.”

“Crystal,” you growl.

The moment the door closes the image of Natasha returns.

For hours you sit thinking they’re going to make you watch her die… It nearly drives you mad. But nothing happens. She sleeps soundly, wakes, and looks at her phone…

You watch as she gets the message, hurt and anger and pain flashing across her features until that last word. She listens again, and again, and again. One glittering tear slides down her cheek before the image disappears… And something in you goes dark.

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight @jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2 @alphalesbianwolf @sxph-t @marvelb00kwolf @itsqueenofchains @demonlover87

[woossexyponytail]

Prologue Threat of death.

Summery: After a job gone wrong, Jeon Jungkook finds a target on his back, realising he has no idea who wants him dead, they bring in the help of an old friend who coincidentally is an assassin for higher.

Threat of death mlist

________

The street's were dark, the stars and moon hidden behind dark grey clouds, the only source of light coming from the street lights down below.

The night was cold, the wind ran through your body, causing a shiver that ran down your back, crossing your arms tightly to get warmer.

The black and red leather coat you picked for tonight wasn't weather appropriate, a long with black jeans and a white silk shirt. A gun strapped to your thigh and a knife to you belt.

You leaned forward over the ledge of the building you were on, binoculars raised to your face watching the building in front of you.

"So what did you find?" You asked in your headset the voice on the other end piped up "His lobby's a death trap. I know your into those, but it's not really a winning option." RM, your helping hacker for tonight's misson said.

"If I can't go down, I'll go up." You said looking up at the roof, seeing an opened window at the very top, "I don't know about this shadow." RM said uncertainty sounded in his voice.

"That's why we have to view the problem from a different angle. Namely, the roof." You told him, putting the binoculars away in your bag, hiking it up on your back, and clipping it securely around your chest.

"This is going to require some creativity." You told him, You jumped of the building throwing a rope attached to you belt, attaching it to the building you started to climb up, swinging left to right getting higher and higher.

"You know, I think you forgot your climbing gear on purpose." RM said as he watched carefully on the cam that was on your headset. "What would give you that idea?" a smirk planted it way on your face.

You jumped to the next window without using your rope "Really it's like going up a set of stairs, only far less boring." You told him, looking down at the street below.

"Yeah, well, I want to throw up every time you look down...hey Jin back. Grab a headset" RM said noticing his friend who knew about RMs side job.

You've known RM for about two years, RM works for you, after Slick, the guy who gives you the targets, told you about him.

Flash back

Crawling through the vents you noticed some suits, "You getting this?" You asked, "Whoa I'm getting too much, that looks like the hong Kong on steroid" RM said.

"You want to tell me what it's doing here?" You asked, "Couldn't say, I hear that BCI working on some new suits, and that sure is mums apple pie no civilian protection" he told you.

"Can't argue with that and the guns?" You asked, "Well it's not that clear, but it looks like low frequency laser weapons limited range, get away they'll have to take you out in a plastic bag" he told you, "I get the picture, You got any suggestions?"

"I got a suggestion right here, go find another way out, because you don't wanna know what happens when you hope man" RM told you.

"Indispensable as always" you told him,

"Your a hard boiled lady you think of something" RM said, "Why exactly am I working with you?" You asked, "For my extraordinary knowledge and not to mention my addictive personality baby" at that you rolled your eyes "You're right, I won't mention it".

End of flash back.

You couldn't help but smile at the thought, after that you couldn't help but call him for the next job, and the next. "Back so soon from florence, wasn't it?" You asked, focusing on your Climbing once again.

"Ah, yes went to florence for some business, But nevermind that What are you doing?" Jin asked now watching the screen in front of him, watching you climb "Ascending."

At that moment you got up at the top of the roof of the building, fixing your gloves and walking towards the opened window.

"Jin meet Pae Kyungsoo, he's CEO of the company Hanwa Group, been stealing money from the company for over ten years, Now they want him gone."

You explained "Delighted." He replied.

You jumped through the window landing on your feet, looking around to make sure the coast is clear. "Im in."

"Ok lets see what you can do, follow down the left side to the main corridor you come at a door to the right" RM said you heard the typing on his computer as he spoke "Any welcome party?"

"That's your job girl, I'm not some xray vision superhero" RM told you, at that your rolled your eyes "I noticed the last bit."

"Oh you are so sharp, you're gonna cut yourself" Jin said laughing, "Just remember the less attention the better" RM reminded you "Thanks but that thought did cross my mind" you told him.

"Just making sure your on the ball." He said, you could hear Jin still laughing in the background "Enough talk, contact me if you see anything".

At that, you clicked the headset off to focus on your job at hand, the last thing you heard was "Wow that girl has one bad attitude tonight." Jin's voice spoke up, at that you shook your head a small smirk showing on your face.

As you got to the door you needed to be, you looked back at your watch seeing the time. Your watch showed two thirty am.

Waiting at the door, you listened in to the room. You heard the sound of people talking, but by the sound of the crackling you knew it was a video. By the moaning you realised that, Pae Kyungsoo, was no doubt, watching some porn.

That thought made your eyes roll, once again your target is a sleazy, disgusting, revolting old man.

Breathing in and holding your breath you quietly opened the door, the room you steped in too was an office, a desk right in front of you the chairs back facing you.

You didn't take note of the design of the room, eyes focused on the man sitting in the chair, as he watch a video on his laptop.

You walked forward pulling out the gun from you holster, the gun had a silencer on, pointing the gun at the man's head, pulling the safty off you breathed out the moment you pulled the trigger.

The screen of the laptop that sat on the man's lap, now covered in the red substance from the hole in his head, the jolt caused the thing to fall, the sound of it breaking the moment it touched the floor.

Your eyes landed on his desk, a couple of picture frames sitting proudly on top, the images of a woman and three kids all smiling up at the camera.

"Sorry kids, daddy isn't coming home tonight" you whispered, a faint smirk ghosting your lips. Putting your gun back in the holster, you quickly turned around to leave.

Running down the corridor and jumping out the still opened window, grabing the rope left out, you slide down to the bottom of the rope.

Still to far to jump down to the floor, you started swinging. When you got your momentum up, you jumped to the building you where previously on before.

"Job done?" You heard RM asked as you landed safely on the roof, waiting, trying to get your breath back,

"It's done" was all you said, as you walked to the door leading down to the streets below "what, no jumping down the stairs?" RM asked

"I decided to take the slow way down." You told him as both RM and Jin laughed at that, Jin piped up "your crazy".

"Thanks, I try" you told him shrugging your shoulders as you carried on walking down the flight of stairs.

"Well I think it's time to leave you, I'll tell Slick that you did your job" RM said saying goodbye to them both, you clicked the off button on your headset. At that you started walking back home for the night, to get some much needed rest.

Walking down the street you've come to know too well, Chungmuro, you got to a small alley way as you turned in, walking past three small buildings you stood at the door.

Blueboat Hostel it was a cheap motel with six rooms, most people who lived with you in the place, are mostly students, everyone kept to themselves, you where not there to make friends, so you didn't bother getting to know them.

Knowing what you did for your job, it was dangerous to get attached to people, especially when you knew they were nice people.

As you punched in the code, the door beeped letting you open it, walking in you smile tiredly at the old woman sitting at the reception desk, after staying here for the past 3 years you still didn't know her name.

The woman smiled back knowing full well you weren't a chatty person and that you preferred to keep to yourself, learning the hard way the first two months was nothing but hell for you, as she always tried to get you to talk, or to come to the Thursday night dinners she made all the tenants go to, but not you.

She gave up after a while, which you appreciated greatly, but it didn't mean it stopped her still inviting you to the meals.

Walking up the stairs you cursed quietly, fed up with all the stairs tonight, the moment you got to the top floor you pulled out your keys unlocking the door.

Getting in you took your shoes off by the door and made your way straight to you bed, the apartment you lived in was small the kitchen and living room being the same room and having a tiny bed room that only fit your bed and one closet, the bathroom was also tiny.

You didn't really care though since with the money you got for your job, you never really spent it, only surviving to get by, saving it for an emergency just in case.

The look of your bed inviting you in, you sighed not really wanting to get changed but needing out of your clothing, leaving your underwear on you crawled in to bed and under the covers, waiting for the sweet bliss of sleep to enter you body as you closed your eyes.

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; A Series of Lists (Part 21); PG

part 21: five times things were smol and cute

It’s his first time back since he told Jonghyun that he loves him and he wants to remind him with, like, kisses and nuzzles and shit.

ao3

masterlist

1 Taemin yawns as he struggles to pull a long sleeve shirt over his head. Running his fingers through his hair when he’s done, he shuffles out of his room and closes the door behind him. With a quick glance around the hallway, he notices someone backing out of a room near the staircase.

No, not a someone; a Jonghyun, and he’s not backing out, he’s rummaging in the room with his back to the hallway. Hmm. Must be a storage closet or something. Taemin heads over to him, happy that the first human he’s going to interact with today is going to be his boyfriend. It’s the group’s first time back to the motel since Taemin’s birthday. He’s a brand new adult and he’s been hoping for some extra kissies in appreciation for it.

He comes up behind Jonghyun and puts his hands gently on his waist, opening his mouth to say his usual quiet, “Hey.” Before he can get the word out, a lot of different things happen.

Jonghyun gasps loudly, jumps like a mile, turns halfway around, bumps his shoulder on the doorframe, turns the rest of the way around, hisses “Jesus fucking christ,” stumbles a lot of steps back, tumbles to his butt on the floor, curls his knees up, and laughs.

It’s a shaky breath of a laugh first, wide eyes blinking up at Taemin in relief, but as the seconds tick by, it turns louder, harder, heavier, until he’s leaning against a dusty shelf with his hands over his face and laughing so loud Taemin thinks he might wake up anyone that managed to sleep in even later than he did.

Taemin blinks down at him, very confused at that sequence of events.

“Oh,” he says, “um,” he says, “sorry,” he says. He fumbles to sit down on the carpet in front of Jonghyun awkwardly. “I wanted to say hi.” He didn’t mean for… this. To happen. Jonghyun keeps laughing, eyes all scrunched up, mouth wide, whole body curled up in a little ball. Taemin’s never seen him like this. It’s really fucking adorable, even if he doesn’t understand it at all.

With one hand, Jonghyun reaches out until he grabs Taemin’s wrist. He half crawls, half tugs Taemin forward, still giggling, until he clambers himself into Taemin’s lap and clings around his neck, face buried in Taemin’s shoulder. He shakes with laughter and now Taemin shakes too, arms loose around his waist. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say, and even if he did, Jonghyun is laughing too much to hear him.

Taemin just sits with him, with his giggly, bubbly, bright boyfriend, and rests his chin on Jonghyun’s shoulder. His eyes slide shut and he breathes slowly, such a contrast to Jonghyun’s quick irregular lungfuls of air. As far as sudden unexpected things that make no sense go, Taemin thinks this might be the first one that he actually likes.

Eventually, Jonghyun’s laughter dies down to just quiet little giggles and breaths against Taemin’s sweater. Eventually, he nuzzles Taemin and then pulls back, lifts one hand to Taemin’s cheek, and leans in for a kiss, confident and sure of himself without a shred of his usual anxiety. It’s warm and firm and more of a smile than anything else. Taemin blinks sleepily back at him when he gently breaks it off.

“Hi,” Jonghyun says, and kisses him again.

2 Taemin is conflicted when he follows Jinki into the lobby of the motel and sees Jonghyun behind the front desk. He’s happy, because Jonghyun is wonderful and he’s been wanting to see him all week, but he’s also dejected because if Jonghyun is working then he can’t snuggle right now. It’s his first time back since he told Jonghyun that he loves him and he wants to remind him with, like, kisses and nuzzles and shit. He also wants to do it far away from people that will watch and make him blush, because lately he can’t even fucking think about Jonghyun without heating up on the inside. He had to sit on his bike with his helmet on for a minute when they all first rolled up so he could control his fucking face.

For now, he settles for creeping his hand over the counter to sit next to Jonghyun’s right as he taps in everyone’s information with his left. There. That is a simple and inconspicuous display of affection that will let Jonghyun know that he’s ready to snuggle whenever.

Jonghyun glances at his hand, takes it gently, rubs his thumb over his knuckles, and throws him a little smile before he ducks down to pull out keys and passes from under the desk. Just those tiny, obvious actions send heat creeping up into Taemin’s face. He looks away before Jonghyun straightens up again, hiding his blush behind his hand.  He’s so fucking cute. Jinki cocks a brow at him and Amber nudges his side and Taemin huffs, grabbing a parking pass at random from the desk and shuffling back to join the others in the parking lot before his heartbeat goes through the roof. Fuck. He doesn't need this. Being in love and everyone knowing it is garbage. He hates having emotions and shit. No one even pretends to believe him when he’s pretending to be an asshole anymore.

Outside, he grumbles onto his bike, gripping the handles and closing his eyes. He breathes slow, deep breaths while everyone else goes into the garage ahead of him. By the time he starts his bike and putts it in himself, he’s evened his body out and kind of stopped caring. Jonghyun is sweet. And good. And adorable. And no one is going to remember that he had emotions next week anyway. It’s fine.

He does wish he could snuggle Jonghyun now though. He misses his warmth, his smell, his heartbeat.

And then, just like that, he’s having emotions again. God. This is so fucked up. He rubs his hands over his face before he turns his bike off and shuffles back to the front door with his bag over his shoulder. He’s gonna blush even more when he sees Jonghyun behind the counter. He knows it. All he wants to do is just scuttle through the lobby and fumble with the key to Jonghyun’s floor for like a minute like he always does and then lie on his couch and relax. He hopes Jonghyun doesn’t decide to take a break to see Taemin early or anything like that like he usually does.

Well, he does, because that would be really gay and wonderful, but also, he doesn’t, because he doesn’t think he can get any redder without just straight up evaporating.

As he passes the front desk in the lobby, Jonghyun gives him a shy little wave with a bitten smile. Taemin almost trips over his own two feet trying to get to the door before anyone else notices his red cheeks.

3 “Taemin… Taemin… Taemie….” A soft voice near his ear and a gentle hand shaking his shoulder brings Taemin out of a dream that he barely tries to remember. He scrunches his eyes, taking a deep breath and turning to smush his face into his pillow. It’s too early. He knows it is. He doesn’t even have to see the time to know that he would hate it. Jonghyun keeps jiggling his shoulder and there’s a grin in his voice when he speaks again.

“Taemie baby…. Sleepy Taemie baby boo--”

“What?” Taemin grumbles. He is not a baby. He’s a grown adult that just isn’t used to waking up at like five in the morning or whatever the fuck time it is that Jonghyun wakes up to get ready for work. Jonghyun laughs softly and pokes at where his right cheek isn’t pressed into the pillow. Taemin grumbles more and turns his face so it is, and then Jonghyun gently pets his hair.

“Can I look through your bag to steal one of your sweaters?” Jonghyun asks him. “I’m feeling really gay today.”

“Mmgh,” Taemin mumbles. He hugs his pillow close to himself and nods. That’s really fucking cute. Almost cute enough to justify being woken up early for. “Sure,” he says. Maybe later when he wakes up on his own and sees Jonghyun all snug and warm in his sweater he’ll be less grumpy about it. Jonghyun presses a kissie to his head with the quietest little “mwah” before Taemin feels him leave the bedside.

He hears him rummaging around in his bag a moment later as he’s counting his breaths to go back to sleep. Four seconds in, eight seconds out. Four seconds in, eight seconds out. Already he feels his mind slipping into nice, warm, peaceful blankness. It’s nice and cozy here under the blankies. His breath against the pillow warms him even further, making him feel all toasty and melty. Four seconds in, eight sec--

“Taemin,” Jonghyun pouts. Taemin scrunches up his face again.

“What,” he mumbles.

“Where’s all of your sweaters?” Jonghyun asks. “All you have is the ugly blue and white one.” A dip in the mattress tells Taemin that Jonghyun has sat down next to him and a soft pap on the cheek tells him that Jonghyun is wiggling the sweater sleeve by his face. He wiggles, curling up into a ball under the covers. Jonghyun pushes gently on his shoulder so he turns his face away from the pillow so he can speak clearly, but covers his eyes with his arm.

“Luna’s I guess?” he says. Where he keeps all of the clothes that he doesn’t take with him in his bag.

“What?” Jonghyun says. “Why?”

“Hot outside,” Taemin says. He’s not gonna carry all of his sweaters with him all the time if he’s not gonna wear them. “Also it’s not ugly,” he mumbles defensively. That sweater is a stripy fuzzy friend.

“It is,” Jonghyun tells him, and then, while he’s still frowning, “and I meant, why not Jinki’s?”

“God, no,” Taemin says. “I don’t wanna like. Talk to his rich stuffy family at all, are you kidding?” Jinki never even wants to see his family, so much that he considers renting his own storage unit every time he has to go pick something up from their house. Taemin definitely isn’t going to meet them just so he can dump some clothes there twice a year. Jonghyun doesn’t reply to that other than a quiet pout, a little whiny noise.

“No egg cloud sweater?” he asks. “No knitted black v-neck, no Homeboy, no Clarity, no skull smiley face, no ‘A lie can’t be covered with another lie?’”

Taemin hesitates, listening to Jonghyun list off all of these sweaters that he has. He knows exactly which ones Jonghyun is talking about. Finally he opens his eyes, blinking groggily up at his boyfriend as Jonghyun pouts down at him.

“Do you have, like, my whole wardrobe memorized?” he asks. Jonghyun looks down at him, then looks away, scratching the side of his head.

“I mean,” he says. “I guess?” He fiddles with the striped sweater in his lap as Taemin watches him. Then Taemin shrugs, closes his eyes, nuzzles back into his pillow. He’ll call Jonghyun cute and make him blush later.

“Just take my leather jacket,” he mumbles.

“Ooh,” Jonghyun says, a sharp hiss of excitement, and immediately gets up to grab it.

4 The sun is pleasantly warm through spotty patches of clouds overhead as Jonghyun lies on his back in the grass. It’s not even hot on his face or arm. He would almost appreciate its existence for once if he didn’t just dislike it on principle.

What he does appreciate is Taemin next to him, Taemin dozing off with his head on Jonghyun’s right bicep and his hands linked lazily on top of his stomach. Jonghyun can’t see much of his face from this angle, but he knows his cheeks are all soft and squishy and that’s what’s important. Closing his eyes against a ray of sun glaring at him from behind a cloud, Jonghyun reaches lazily for Taemin’s hands with his free one.

He finds Taemin’s left and gently picks it up, rubs his thumb over the back of it and holds it in his. This is nice. He’s been busier lately, training Taeyeon and doing his regular shifts and working on his music, and it’s nice to be able to lie outside in the grass and relax with his babe.

As he explores Taemin’s hand with his own, he comes upon a multitude of rings on his fingers. He stops at each one, feeling each of them out, remembering how they looked when Taemin first showed up with all of them. Two small grey rings sit around his pinky, one studded with fake diamonds. On his pointer finger is a thick silvery metal ring. His middle finger has three black rings with a little chain that connects them all to each other. Another black ring with a white line through it is around his thumb.

And on his ring finger, alone, is a simple black band with silver lines on each side.

Jonghyun smiles to himself as he plays with that one, twisting it gently back and forth. That’s the one that he gave Taemin. And when he gave Taemin that ring is when Taemin went out and bought all of his other rings.

Taemin’s hand moves in his, twists away from him for just a second so he can lace their fingers together instead. Jonghyun grins. For someone that’s supposed to be sleeping that wasn’t smooth. He lifts Taemin’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his ring finger gently--for half a second before Taemin inhales sharply and huffs “God, fuck,” and whips his hand away. Rolling over to his stomach next to him, Taemin nuzzles aggressively into his shoulder and squishes his hand between their bodies.

Jonghyun feels Taemin rubbing his fingers against each other for the next ten minutes.

5 There are a lot of people in here.

Jonghyun knew there would be; he knew that he called his friends and hired some people and told the bikers they were free to help him move in if they wanted to. He gladly accepted all of the help he could get, and here it all is, from the group of movers assembling his couch in front of the TV shelf to Kyuhyun and Changmin slowly carrying the TV in together while Kibum guides them in to everyone else helping unload the moving truck one thing at a time.

Taemin hovers awkwardly by the kitchen doorway, watching them all, and Jonghyun leans against the living room wall, watching him, amused and endeared. He’s cute. Flustered, overwhelmed, all clammed up around so many people, and cute.

Jonghyun slips outside after the TV gets in and grabs the box of all of his little knick knacks from the van. Carrying it back inside, he pulls a stepping stool up to the empty shelf by the hallway and sits himself down in front of it.

As he’s gently placing his little collection of model motorcycles on the middle shelf, arranging them up all neat and orderly, he catches Taemin shuffling to him out of the corner of his eye. Soon, Taemin slips his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and rests his chin on his head.

“Hey,” he mumbles, voice quiet and disinterested, sigh slow and bored. Jonghyun feels his heart thudding in that way it does when he’s closing himself up but hasn’t quite finished yet and smiles fondly.

“Hi,” he says back. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Taemin mumbles. Jonghyun snorts. Alright then. Taemin’s fingers grip his shirt loosely. Jonghyun continues setting up his little motorcycles, all the ones he’s made over the years, from simple lego sets to complicated functional replicas. After another few minutes, Taemin takes in a deep, slow breath.

“Hmm,” he hums, and pulls away from Jonghyun. Jonghyun pats his tummy gently as he walks down the hall towards the bedroom. He can go be alone for a while if he wants to.

Or, for a minute, Jonghyun guesses, because soon Taemin comes right back. Jonghyun glances at him over his shoulder as he presses up against his back again. Taemin isn’t looking at him because Taemin is looking at what’s in his hand, which is a little baggie full of little motorcycles.

“Oh,” Jonghyun says, delighted, as Taemin fumbles the bag open and shakes them all out onto the shelf. They’re cheap little toys, all plastic and simple paint jobs. They’re adorable and Jonghyun never knew that Taemin had them. With one hand, Taemin picks each one up and arranges them neatly next to all of Jonghyun’s. His other hand sneaks around Jonghyun’s waist again. When he’s done, he trails his fingers along the shelf in front of them before slipping his other hand back around Jonghyun’s waist to complete the circle.

“They’re all girlfriends,” he mumbles, nodding lazily to the collection of motorcycles. He nuzzles against Jonghyun’s shoulder, lips pressing to his skin where his shirt collar dips wide. Jonghyun smiles, reaching up to gently nudge two closer together. They sure are.

[bluboothalassophile]

Give Me Back My Mind!

Pancakes or Waffles

Jason didn’t like this as he drove through one of Raven’s portals and found himself in a parking garage. Raven promptly collapsed with a moan and laid against the window.

“Hey!” he snapped at her, she blearily opened her eyes as she panted. He’d be so very fucked and dead if a Titan; especially this Titan, died on him. And having the Demon Spawn of a man he’d rather got the hell before seeing again was enough motivation to have him looking at the exhausted gray girl in the passenger’s seat.

“You’re exhausting,” she muttered as she rubbed her brow and yawned.

“We’re stopping at a motel, then continuing tomorrow,” he decided as he pulled out of the parking garage Raven had landed them in. She merely hummed.

“What’s wrong with her!?” Damian hissed, pulling a knife on him and Jason slammed on the breaks before reaching the exit as he snatched the knife from the Bat Brat.

“She’s exhausted, I didn’t drug her, and if you pull another fucking weapon on me we’re going to go a few rounds and it’ll hurt,” Jason warned lowly so as not to disturb the woman who was passed out. After waking her the first-time Jason wasn’t too keen on having a repeat performance of four furious red eyes, cold environment, and shadows coming to life; right now. He was interested in going toe to toe with Raven again, but not until the playing field was even and he was armed. Also, he wasn’t going to tolerate mini-Bruce trying to stab him every turn of the way.

“What did you steal from her?” Damian spat as Jason paid a parking fee and drove into the street. He looked at the street signs and decided that they were going to need a motel, a map, and food; in that order, before going to Gotham.

“A book,” he answered. He felt no need to elaborate as he slowed at a stop light. Pulling a cigarette he lit it, rolled the windows down and took a steadying breath. He was not ready to deal with Bruce’s brat or the other Bats; it was too much fucking turmoil for him. And he sure as hell wasn’t ready to go to the vicinity of Gotham County; nope, but here he was.

“What book?” Damian demanded.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” he lied. “I’m a contractor, shorty, I am hired to acquire goods from secure places, and that’s exactly what I did.”

“Then why are you helping Raven?” Damian growled.

“Because I don’t work for double crossers, and Raven’s got leverage I need gone,” Jason grumbled as he turned and took another sweet, soothing breath of his cigarette before he blew the smoke out the window. Raven was sound asleep, she didn’t even move as she slumped in the seat, Damian settled behind Raven and glared at him the entire time and Jason just hoped for patience.

He was not patient with people, especially not Bats.

This was going to be hell.

~~~*~*~*~~~

She had missed! The fury at having missed fueled her as she stalked through her safe house and wondered how that child had gotten a Titan on his side. And worse, how said Titan had threw a dumpster at her and broken her arm.

Growling she sat at her table and frowned. Her father wouldn’t just be disappointed with her, no, he’d be furious. They had taken this job on the contingency of it being useful to their cause. The money was a bonus, and she was the best in the League. She never messed up, and she never missed, now…

Her head fell back as she felt her age for the first time since giving Damian to his father. The exhaustion seeped into her bones, and her fury started rising. There’d been a moment she’d cared about Jason, a miniscule moment in time, and she had shown mercy on him. But he was dangerous, and now he was a liability to the cause. It was time to eliminate him. Looking at her set wrist she stood up and started packing, she’d have to track Jason down, and while that wasn’t going to be easy she’d been the one to teach him how to disappear. She could, and would, find him, and she put a bullet between his eyes and burn his body to end it.

Just because he had come back once didn’t mean he could continue to do so.

And the Titan would be next.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“Why are we stopping here!?” Damian protested when Jason pulled up to a hotel; a cheap Hilton, and he narrowed his eyes on the older man.

“Because, Raven needs sleep, I need to plan, and you’re a pain in the ass,” Jason snapped as he parked and got out. Damian scowled at the man as he got out of the car. He watched as Jason collected Raven out of the passenger side, wrapped her up in a leather jacket, pulled a hat over her head and carried her. Damian was just shocked Raven never stirred.

“You’re my kid brother if anyone asks,” Jason growled.

“We are not related,” Damian snapped. Jason merely barked a laugh.

“Ain’t that the truth!” Jason chuckled, Damian frowned because he didn’t think this was funny. “Anyway, if they ask, you’re my kid brother, Rae here is my girl, we’re on a road trip.”

“Why?”

“Just do it brat,” he snarled.

“Raven can do better than you.” Damian jabbed. Jason just scowled.

“I’ll have you know I’m a hell of a catch!” Jason haughtily stated.

Damian said nothing as he glared blandly at the other, but Jason was no longer looking at him as they approached the counter.

“Afternoon, I need a room, two beds if possible,” Jason smiled at the receptionist, and Damian rolled his eyes as he started looking around the lobby.

He was only here because otherwise Raven would have left herself to the mercy of a criminal. And that didn’t sit too well with Damian.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason shifted Raven a bit as he continued to chat up the receptionist and fill out the paperwork for the room.

“Your brother is too cute,” the blonde giggled.

“He’ll be a lady killer for sure,” Jason chuckled and Damian’s head snapped up then as his eyes narrowed on him. Raven grumbled a bit, she shifted and that grabbed the receptionist’s attention.

“Girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” he lied. “She’s not feeling great, so we’re stopping here for the night.”

“Poor thing,” the blonde mused. “She’s looking rather gray.”

“Might just be car sick,” he chuckled.

“If you need anything,” the blonde smiled and trailed off with a wave.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” Jason lied as he took a key and struggled with holding Raven steady and fiddling with the keycards. The demon never woke.

“Come on shorty.”

“I am not short!” Damian snapped as they got in the elevator.

“Sure you’re not,” Jason rolled his eyes as he pressed the button for his floor. Raven grumbled as she shifted again, he stiffened when her face was pressed against his neck but remained calm when she stopped fidgeting.

“Is she supposed to be like this?” Damian asked worriedly.

“The fuck if I know!” Jason hissed as the elevator stopped and they walked the hall. It was quiet, eerily so, but Jason was used to the nice hotels being like that. It was part of why he preferred the shitty motels, at least there was life; even angry life, in them. Opening up their room he was blasted by the icy air of the room but ignored it as he maneuvered Raven to the bed nearest to the window and farthest from the door.

“This is a hovel,” Damian declared.

“It’s pretty nice actually, clean, simple, quiet,” Jason listed icily as he checked Raven’s brow for a fever; just in case. She was looking grayer than usual in his defense.

“Whatever,” Damian grounded.

“I’ll be right back with the bags, stay put or be useful and help me,” Jason stated.

“As if I trust you,” Damian rolled his eyes and Jason didn’t take offense as he and Damian walked out of the hotel room to his Charger to collect the bags.

Jason unzipped both of Raven’s bags to find her clothes, picked up her backpack, zipped her duffle, grabbed his bag, and his computer before he shut the trunk and locked his car; also, arming the traps he had there.

After having stolen three of the Batmobile’s tires he was a bit paranoid about his own vehicles and kept them carefully guarded. It was the only reason he left his weapons and Raven’s magic shit (because that’s what he was assuming was in her duffle bag of books), in the trunk. Also, he was a thief, he designed every possible fail safe so thieves could not steal his cars or gear. Damian was standing there with his own bags and gear.

“What does Raven have on you?” Damian demanded as they walked into the hotel again.

“What the hell makes you think I’ll tell or give you hints to that!?” Jason demanded. Damian shrugged and Jason was shocked; it was such a Dick action, but seeing the kid do it was startling. It almost made Talia’s spawn look human.

“Look, kid, you don’t like me, I’m not overly fond of you, however, since you’re with Sunshine, we’re stuck together. Raven and I have called truce, what do you say we do that same?” Jason smiled maliciously as he looked innocently on the boy who was glaring daggers at him.

“Raven is a fool to trust you,” Damian stated.

“Whoa, stop, I have to correct you on several things about that statement,” Jason huffed. “One, Sunshine is the smartest Titan, or hero I’ve ever come across and she possesses a great deal more common sense and power than anyone on the Titans, she’s the furthest thing from a fool, so give her credit. Two, the biggest fool on the Titans is the Bird Brains, you included. Third, who the hell said she trusts me? We’re two individuals working together for similar means to an end and going to part ways when this is over. She’ll go back to trying to kick my ass, and I’ll go back to trying to kick hers’. Kapeesh?”

“You seem to hold your enemy in high esteem,” Damian smirked.

“No, I hold admiration for what she is and what she can do, and enjoy pushing her buttons!” Jason gleefully corrected, honestly, he loved toying with Titans. It was a blast!

“Then you are the fool,” Damian spat.

“Possibly, or just insane,” Jason wolfishly grinned. Yes, he was certifiably insane at times, but he was also sane at times too. It kept everyone on their toes; him included.

“I don’t trust you,” Damian decided.

“First smart thing I’ve heard from your mouth, but how about we call truce Bat Brat?”

“Stop calling me that!” Damian hissed.

“Fine, shorty it is.”

“I’m not short!”

“Are you sure? Because Sunshine’s taller than you and she’s short,” Jason explained.

“Why do you call her Sunshine?”

“Why not?” Jason mused. They walked the hall and Jason opened the hotel door to see Raven had wrapped herself up in his jacket again, in fact, she was using it as a blanket; completely tucked under it. All he could see of her was her toes and a tuff of dark hair. Sighing he dropped his bag as he took his jacket away from her, turned down the bed and put her in it before pulling out his computer. Sitting at the desk he started getting to hacking as Damian sat on the other bed and watched them.

Honestly, Jason didn’t know what was the matter with the demon spawn and he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he not be blind going into Shadowcrest; he was not dying for a fucking book! It was not happening! He had shit to do before his next death.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“Hey, Cyborg, do you know where friend Raven is?” Starfire asked as she appeared. Kori was a bit… stressed, and was hoping to get Raven to indulge in the shopping. It soothed Kori immensely when she and Raven hung out. Raven; after the body swap debacle, was patient with her and Kori in turn could push her friend further into socializing. It was nice. Star could even get Raven to spend an afternoon doing the painting of nails; not that she could get Raven to paint them pink, but it was progress.

“Uh… yeah, she had a mission come up, magic stuff,” Cyborg said cryptically which had Star frowning. Raven was always complicated, and secretive, but Kori could honestly say that Raven would not leave right now. Not with the new kids, or Barbara, or the Titan responsibilities.

“Cyborg, where is Raven really?” Kori demanded.

Cyborg huffed, then grabbed her as he dragged her into his room and shut the door.

“Look, if I give you the bare minimum of what I know; which is the bare minimum of what Raven was willing to tell me, you can’t tell Gar or Dick,” Cyborg stated.

“Alright?” Kori huffed.

“RedXstolesomethingofRaven’s,she'sgotleverageoverhim(Idon'tknowwhat),they'regoingtogogetwhathestoleback,andDamian'swiththem,” Cyborg rushed out.

Kori blinked.

“Raven is with Red X?” she managed.

“Yup, no telling Dick,” Cyborg stated.

“But his baby brother is with Red X as well!” she shouted.

“Not ideal but he’s with Rae, and Rae will never let anything happen to the kid. Besides he’s a trained ex-assassin!” Cyborg defended. Kori gaped at him.

“And that makes it alright!?” she snapped.

“No, but I couldn’t send Raven alone, and she was going it alone Kori, she wouldn’t have told me but she’s like my kid sister!” Victor snapped.

“Very well, I will not tell Dick,” Kori sighed.

“Thank you! I’ll make it up to you however you want,” he promised.

“That is acceptable. Victor,” she hummed as she stopped herself from leaving and looked at the other man.

“What’s up?”

“Do… Do you think Richard loves Barbara?” Kori hated herself for this weakness, but it couldn’t be helped. Her and Richard had been going solid (as something, not quite girlfriend-boyfriend, but not friends with benefits either) for a year nearly, and while they were good together, Dick had feeling for Barbara.

“Um… Star… that’s, that’s complicated,” Victor gulped.

“I see, thank you Cy,” she lied and she hurried out of the room. It was actually her relationship with Dick that she had wanted to talk to Raven about. Stopping Kori stared out at the setting sun and she just stood in the empty hall of the founding member’s living quarters as she savored it. She felt so lost, and a bit alone right now, she was scared. She knew that, she knew she was scared; terrified, that Dick would leave her and run for the gorgeous redhead who was his best and oldest friend. Kori couldn’t compete with Barbara, and she hated knowing that if Richard chose Barbara, she’d leave.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Damian watched as Jason worked and Raven slept. Boredom was what had him placing his weapons out on the bed as he methodically sharpened them. Jason didn’t make a move to threaten Raven, who hadn’t woken up, though now it was night.

“Go to sleep baby bird,” Jason said.

“What are you doing?” Damian challenged as he started organizing everything he kept in his utility belt.

“Working,” Jason answered.

“Then I’ll stay up,” Damian stated. He was not taking his eyes off Raven when she was vulnerable like this. Raven hadn’t stirred at all since she had passed out in the car. Jason could not be trusted with her safety; Jason was a thief and the very reason Raven was in a mess.

“Awe, if I didn’t know better someone has a crush on the little bird here,” Jason cooed, Damian’s eyes narrowed as he threateningly held a knife.

“I do not!” the boy hissed. “Raven's…. Raven’s my best friend,” he decided. Jason merely blinked and leant back in his seat then.

“Best friends are good to have,” the thief omitted. “However, I’m not going to hurt her, and even if I was, I would take you out first and I don’t intend to have the wrath of the Bat Clan raining down on me so get some fucking sleep, tomorrow is a long fucking drive.”

“I don’t know why think I would let my guard down around a deceitful thief,” Damian huffed out; though he felt a yawn coming which was about to prove himself tired. But he refused to reveal such a weakness to this scoundrel.

“Kid, I happen to have morals, and not that you need to know this, but I do not hurt women or children, just assholes in need of an ass kicking,” Jason grounded out.

“I don’t trust you,” Damian snapped.

“Already established, but you need sleep, she’s sleeping, and I’ll be going to sleep in an hour; sleep or I’ll knock you out,” Jason snapped. Damian scowled but secretly decided there’d be no harm in sleeping as he put away his gear and weapons. He’d clambered into the bed he had claimed and settled as he looked between Jason and Raven, Raven never stirred and Jason was clearly consumed by whatever he was doing.

Slowly Damian let sleep claim him.

His mind wandered and for the first time since his mother had left him with his father and renounced him as her son he felt… content, accepted, something? True with his family he was loved and accepted; Grayson had made certain of that, and while he and Drake hated each other they were learning to work together, and Pennyworth was Pennyworth, and father was father. But Raven made him feel at ease, but there was something about being here with the thief and Raven which made him feel content. It beat the tower and dealing with imbeciles trying to understand him.

No one would ever understand him.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Wincing a bit Raven shifted from her spot on a bed, there was a hand on the small of her back which was too large to be hers’. Blearily she turned her head and looked at the sprawled man beside her and frowned. Mumbling she moved and dragged the covers over her head as she glanced across the room and noticed Damian sound asleep still. Sighing, Raven dragged herself out of the bed she was in, and surmised that they were in a hotel with the neutral colors and matching décor. Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled to the bathroom and glanced at herself in the mirror.

She felt like she’d been run over by a bus from everything yesterday and the day before.

Between the training and the team dividing, then Jason stealing her book, the attack on Jason, the trip to New York, the trip back home, packing, agreeing to take Damian and then trip to Pittsburgh, she was exhausted. And drained. Very drained, if she were attacked right now she didn’t think she’d have the needed energy to even deflect the attack. The good news was her mind shields were up, keep Damian and Jason’s emotions out of her system.

Scrubbing her face, she looked in the mirror and sighed, she wanted a fucking shower. It was no longer a request, she felt sticky, drained, and very gross. Walking back into the room she noted that someone had brought her bag up and she collected it. Hopefully in the thirty minutes she was in the shower neither Damian nor Jason would wake and start a war. She dimly remembered the tension between them and Jason’s fury and uneasy, and Damian’s distrust and anger.

Sighing in bliss she let the hot water poor over her as she thought over everything that she was doing. But more than that Raven wanted to know why Zatanna of all magicians wanted a book of Azarath. It wasn’t like anyone could read it; Azarath’s language and culture had never really left Azarath, and it was all ruined anyway. Shutting her eyes, she scolded herself and reminded herself that Azarath was her fault. It was all her fault.

It was still her home.

But it was her fault it was dead, that genocide had happened on her home world. Stepping out of the shower she wrapped a towel around herself and frowned. No one, not even Dr. Fate would have use for the book, and it was doubtful anyone besides herself, Victor and Garfield knew about the Nevermore, Azar had stressed the importance of her hiding such a weakness. And the Nevermore was a weakness just as it was a strength; it was a way into her mind. Drying off she pulled on civilian clothes and cast a glamor spell on herself to hide her identity; it was amazing how few people recognized her without her ashen skin and chakra gem.

Walking out of the bathroom she glared at Damian and Jason; the former being locked in a headlock by the latter.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“So what do you think?” he asked as he let the sorcerer examine the book.

“I find it fascinating, the magic she placed on it,” the man smiled.

“Can you get around it!” the boy snapped impatiently which had the sorcerer narrowing his eyes on him.

“It’ll take time, but yes, I can, though I’m sure the Witch Boy beside you could do it,” the sorcerer hissed.

He just sighed.

“If Klarion could do it he would have done it,” he countered as the Lord of Chaos scowled.

“Not surprising, the Gem of Scath would not leave something like that laying around,” the boy defended and he found himself praying for patience.

“You’re going to need more than one sorcerer,” the sorcerer snapped at the Witch Boy.

“That’s why we’re here, can it be unlocked?”

“Yes,” the sorcerer repeated.

“Then retrieve the Nevermore,” he stated.

“I’ll get some… acquaintances to help, Klarion’s help is needed as well,” the sorcerer growled. The Witch Boy just huffed and he sighed. Klarion was more powerful than Raven in the mystic arts, he was an incarnation of chaos after all, but Raven had been clever and used Azarath magic on her book; and no one they knew, knew Azarathian to break it. A very clever move on his sister’s part, but it wouldn’t save her.

It was time sister dearest served her purpose, properly this time.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“Enough!” Raven roared and Damian looked up in his headlock from Jason and the both stiffened. Raven had her eyes narrowed, her hands on her hips and the fury in her stance. Jason dropped him, and he landed on his feet.

“He started it!” Damian defended.

“I do not care! You two will learn to get along on this trip, or Damian so help me I will send you back to Dick!” Raven hissed and he frowned. Part of the deal for coming was obeying Raven’s every command. And though he didn’t like it, he knew she was the only one who’d never turn back on her word. Raven was rather like Alfred, she could and she would follow through on her promises.

“Jason, where are we?” Raven asked and Damian scowled.

“Pittsburgh,” he answered.

“Why?”

“You were exhausted, I’m not driving with demon brat unsupervised, and I am not walking into Shadowcrest without information,” Jason stated.

“Do you have the information you need now?” Raven challenged.

“As a matter of fact, I do, princess,” he grinned like a shark and Raven frowned. Damian rolled his eyes, he didn’t like it when Jason grinned, it was like he was plotting something and they didn’t know it.

“Don’t call me that. Do you have the information you need?”

“Yeah,” Jason smirked.

“Can we go now?”

“After I shower and the demon brat showers,” Jason chuckled. Damian growled as Jason passed him and slid past Raven before Raven and he were alone again.

~~~*~*~*~~~

“Damian,” Raven sighed as she rubbed her brow then and the boy folded his arms then.

“I was ordered to protect you, he said he was going to peep,” Damian defended. Raven just shook her head and walked over to the young boy.

“I doubt I’m Red’s type, and if he did peep, I would and am fully capable of kicking his ass,” Raven stated.

“Cyborg said you would need protection,” Damian countered.

“Not really,” Raven assured him. The boy huffed as he fell onto the bed.

“I do not like him, he is dishonest, untrustworthy, volatile, and a scoundrel,” Damian stated.

“Hmm… I know someone like that, in fact I’m standing in the same room as him right now, but I trust him anyway,” Raven said and Damian shot up to defend himself.

“Damian, I am not judging,” Raven said, cutting off his defenses. “But you have lied, repeatedly, to your father, and to Dick; the Court of Owls is proof of that. You have proven yourself untrustworthy at times, but you always come around; your views, your grandfather, your mother, and relationship with the League of Assassins are concerning. You do not play well with others, even with your own brothers; but you do have a kind and generous heart in there, it’s just guarded. And you are a scoundrel; you’re a Wayne and they’re all scoundrels and that’s not bad. But you need to stop judging Jason because of what he does, you don’t know him and what he’s been through. Just have an open mind. People can be a pleasant surprise.”

“Do you believe that?” Damian demanded.

“Empath, nothing surprises me,” she stated flatly as she sat on the bed and Jason reappeared, dressed, clean shaven, and still a bit damp from his shower.

Damian stalked past him with his own bag and Raven sighed as she rubbed her temples. Damian’s hostility towards new people was truly exhausting, but she could and would get through to him. Though at times it was exceedingly tempting to just wipe him emotionally and have him start over, have a chance at being… normal, and happy.

“You look like you went partying,” Jason chuckled as he started packing his stuff.

“All the hangover without the fun,” she mused flatly as she fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

“You weren’t really going to peep, were you?” Raven asked. She didn’t see why any guy; especially one of the Wayne boys, would ever do something so vulgar. Besides, it wasn’t really like she had anything worth peeping at.

“What? No,” he said. The shock and offense she felt roll off him was too genuine to fake.

“Then why were you and Damian fighting?”

“Because, the brat said something, it was time he had manners taught to him.”

“Ah, please refrain from head locking a ten year old who will happily stab you,” she dismissed.

“As if he could,” Jason mused.

“League of Assassins I take it,” she mused listening to the pipes sing with the hot water, she could feel Damian in the water so she felt safe asking about Jason Todd, not just Jason.

“How’d you…?” he blinked.

“They’re the only organization with a Lazarus Pit that I know of,” she stated.

“Ah, should have known, and yes, don’t ask,” he sighed.

“I’m not judging, just mildly curious,” she said as she sat up and packed up her stuff too. “Also curious about why you were in my bed when I woke.”

“Because Prince Wayne there would stab me if I even contemplated sleeping in his bed and you were in the next world and wouldn’t have noticed if I slit your wrists and walked away; not that I would, but you were that out of it,” he mused.

“Ah,” she nodded as she and Jason started making the beds to check for stuff.

“You’re not going to be all demon pissed on me?” he questioned.

“No, I’m not so immature to demand you sleep on the floor instead, I just don’t usually wake up with people in my bed,” Raven shrugged as she and Jason moved to Damian’s bed to make it. Raven had very rarely shared her bed, and the few times she had it’d been with Star or Cyborg on movies nights when they’d crash. Other than them no one had ever been in her bed. Ever.

“I don’t usually wake to someone in my bed either,” he grumbled. She smiled a bit, because she sensed he had a different meaning in that statement.

“Alright, all of our stuff is ready to go, as soon as his highnass gets out of the shower we’ll check out,” Jason decided.

“Stop calling him names,” Raven ordered as she double checked her bag.

“Can’t be helped, Sunshine,” Jason grinned.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

“But you’re always so happy!” he chuckled.

“After I get my book back, I just might send you to another dimension,” Raven grumbled.

“You’d miss me, if you didn’t have me winding up Bats and Bird Brains, who would!?” he chuckled as he heaved up his bag and slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Ah the peaceful life without Red,” she sighed blissfully.

“You wound me, little bird,” he dramatically huffed.

“I doubt that,” she muttered.

“Too right, now breakfast, a very serious matter, pancakes or waffles, your answer will decide the terms of this truce,” he stated seriously.

“Waffles, always,” she proudly stated.

“My God, you’re my kind of woman,” he chuckled.

“Oh Azar!” she moaned as her head fell back. Jason sniggered. They both looked at Damian.

“You were discussing breakfast,” Damian said calmly. Raven tried to shake Jason’s arm from around her shoulders, but he didn’t budge.

“Yes, serious question as this will determine the compatibility of this team: pancakes or waffles,” Jason demanded.

“Pancakes,” Damian replied promptly.

“We’re doomed to failure, little bird,” Jason informed her. “It’s an omen, we should call off this mission.”

“Nice try,” Raven stated flatly.

“But if you and I like waffles, and he likes pancakes, it’s proof we’re doomed to failure.”

“You’re an imbecile, that logic makes no sense!” Damian snapped.

“I’m warning you,” Jason chuckled as they walked out of the room.

“You are not back out, or I use my leverage over you,” she warned as they walked into the elevator.

“Rats, it was worth a shot.”

“Are you sure he’s a criminal mastermind, Raven?”

“Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos,” Raven chanted as she tried to stay calm as the elevator closed on them.

[bendinthemoonlight6613-blog]

The Avatar Falls! Chapter 2

A/N: So apparently I wasn’tt clear enough when I said no flames! I really like sering people’s feedback but if you don’t have anything helpful to say then don’t say anything at all! Anyway, I hope you guys like chapter 2! <3 :) <3

 Chapter 2

 It was night. Diden drove along a dark road alone. There was noting but him, his anguish, and the car he’d stolen from his neighbors. His neighbors were criminals so he didn’t feel lthat bad about it, but he still didn’t like stealing. Still, it was the only way he could sayve his mother, or so he had hoped.

 Dinden was on the road to Ba Sing Se when he decided it wasn’t worth going back. He hafd nothing to go back to. Now that his mom was taken from him, he had no one. So he decided instead to head south. He would expore the open road, maybe check out Zou Fu. Whatever he did, he know it would find ihm some way to exact his reveng.

 The dark nighttime sky and the dark road made diden very sleepy/ He decided to stop for the night at a dusty look,ing motel or whatever.

 Diden walked in the front lobby. He went up to the bell cleark.

 “What the fuck do you want?” asked the bell clerk.

 “I need a room.” Diden told him.

 The bell clerk grumbled, annoyed. He grabbed a key and put it on the tesk. “That’ll be 20 yuons.”

 Diden dug through his pockets and pulled out money he had taken off of the bodies of ome uncounscious guys at the sperpents pass. He didn’t like having to steal from them but then again they were fead so he didn’t feel that bad about it. He gave the guy the money and glaowered at him.

 “Thanks,” Diden said angrily at the cheapskate of a bell clerk.

 “You’re fucking welcome.” The bell cleark said happily. Diden wanted to bunch him.

 Diden went to his room. He sat on the bed and bruded. He hadto kill the avatar. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t want to, bu he had to kill him. Itw as the only way.

 “What the fuck are you doing in my room?” asked a boice that startled, but didn ot scare Diden.

 “What tge fcyj? Who are you?!” Diden asled.

 “I asked you fist asshole!” said the voice. Diden woulcn’t see it, but he knew where the voice was coming from.

 “Show yourself jackass!” Diden ordered. The other voice was too frightened to disobey, so he showed himself. He kufted his head from behind the bed to reveal that he was actually a rare dragon raven! Not only that but he was the lst of his kind.

 “Holy shit! You’re a Dragon Raven!” Diden shouted. The walls were thick so noone heard him, which is good because if anyone knew there was a dragon raven in the room they would probably tri to lill it.

 “Yeah, I am a dragon raven. I’m tha last one too, so if you try to kill me I will kill you!”

 “I won’t kill you,” said Diden. “My name is Diden. What is your noame?”

 “Noshej.” he answered.

 “Nice to meet you Nosheh. Sorry to barge in your room. The hotel gyy gave me the room key for this room. Guess he didn’t realize it was taken. He’s such an idiot.”

 “Yeah, the hotel guy has been a bpain in my ass for a long time. Almost as much of a pain as the avatar.” Nosheh said.

 “Wait, the avatar?” Asked Diden.

 “Yeah, he killed the last of the dragon ravens, other than me. He hated us because we are dragons but we can also speak like humans.”

 :That’s horrible! That fucker needs to die!” Diden shouted.

 “I agree. I wish there was some way I could kill him.”

“I’m trying to kill him. Will you help me?”

 “It would be my honor, Diden.

 And that is how the fearson dragon raven Nosheh came to work at Diden;s side.

 A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Some asshole told me that I should try “soell check” or whatever. Biut like I think I got most of them so they can fuck off. Everyone else, thank you! I love you all!!! Let me know what you think :) :) :)

[mattzerella-sticks]

Natural One (Fabian Seacaster/Riz Gukgak, 5.8k)

5 times Fabian rolled a natural one, and one time Riz rolled a nat 20

Fabian and Riz stand with their backs against each other - well, with Riz’s head pillowed by his lower back - surrounded by tiny gnomes baring their tools menacingly. Hammers and saws meant for building were slowly tearing them and their friends apart. One lucky swipe slashed his arm and earlier one of their attackers bashed Riz’s knee in. For tiny creatures they have a ginormous ruthlessness to them.

If they survive this, Fabian will bind Fig’s hands together with enchanted chains. So she can never again anger a room full of sleep-deprived mechanics by pressing the only button that would destroy their hard work.

“Why would you even make a button for that!” Fig screamed, swinging her guitar wildly, “It’s like hanging a piano with fraying rope. One way or another it was getting smashed!”

“Less pointing the finger and more apologizing !” Adaine said, tossing up a shield to block the flurry of screws pelting her.

Now while their friends handle the main engineer, Riz and Fabian stay with the stragglers.

“I never thought it would end like this,” Riz mutters, fingers twitching against his trigger, “After so many close calls… taken down by a bunch of gnomes hopped up on coffee and Adderall.”

“Don’t say that Riz,” Fabian says. He glances at the smaller boy, attempting a reassuring smile. “We’re adventurers. We have the final say on when we perish… and that day is certainly not today.”

Riz meets his stare, mirroring his expression. “Thanks, Fabian.” The words drift towards Fabian’s heart and wraps around it, squeezing. The uptick of his mouth feels more genuine. While he has confidence in his premier abilities and skills, Riz’s support is a special kind of blessing. A gift far greater than any Kristen’s terminally positive deity could give. His faith in Fabian is unshakeable, even when some of his actions and misadventures were questionable.

Why he never realized he loved the eager goblin sooner Fabian blames on tunnel vision. Too focused on aiming for precise points on the dartboard that he completely missed the bull’s-eye.

Once he realized where he should be firing, though, his aim faltered.

Fabian faced the encroaching gnomes, ready to fight. He crouches and leaps, twisting over the pack blocking him. Picturing how amazing he must look - twirling in the air, fluorescents flashing behind and casting him in a vengeful shadow, preparing to swing, slash, and drop his enemies.

Except he lands wrong. Foot sliding, Fabian falls to the floor. His sword flies elsewhere, wrung from his hands. The last thing he hears before succumbing to swirling darkness was Riz calling his name.

It doesn’t make him feel as warm as it did seconds earlier.

He comes to surrounded by the other Bad Kids. “It’s all smoothed over,” Gorgug says, “I managed to convince the boss that Fig blowing up their machine was a good thing.”

“Helped that he thought you were his son,” Fig chuckles, elbowing him in the ribs, “Seriously, who knew so many gnomes adopted orcish orphans? Apparently it’s really big in the gnomish community.”

Gorgug whines, “But he’s not my dad!”

“Honestly?” Kristen says, leaning on her staff, “It was a little touch and go there.”

Adaine nods, “I saw you mumbling to yourself. ‘No, it can’t be… three dads is too many’.”

“I got there in the end, that’s all that matters!”

Fabian sits up, waving his hands and cutting into their argument. “Wait a minute! It was that easy? But what about the other gnomes we were fighting?”

“They stopped pretty quickly after their boss offered them paid time off,” Riz tells him, “After you went down -”

“Which I took pictures of,” Fig adds, “very funny.”

“After you went down,” Riz repeats, “the gnomes closed in and were about to end me. But when the gang rushed in with the PTO forms they rushed home.”

“I can’t believe I got knocked out almost as the fight was over,” Fabian groans, “What did I even slip on?”

“Some loose nuts and bolts.”

Fabian slams his head into his knees, hoping the concussive blow could force him unconscious once more. “Please,” he says into his legs, “No one speak of this.”

“Too late,” Fig says, “I already texted it to the entire school.”

All he wanted was to impress Riz. He surely wouldn’t find a laughingstock that worthy of his affections.

The Hangman sped in as the group said their goodbyes, promises to meet up tomorrow and discuss their findings. Fabian couldn’t leave fast enough.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coach Gorthalax stressed how important this game was for the Owl Bears. Winning this meant that they would advance to regional championships, playing bloodrush against some of the top schools across the lands. And with their final competition being the boys from Hudol, there wasn’t any doubt they’d move forward.

“Even if their players are pale, nerdy weaklings, with so little muscle development they can barely hold up their books,” Gorthalax said during the huddle, “I don’t want you slacking. Being lazy now is just the thing that’ll give them an edge over us. If we all focus we’ll win and have a good time!”

“Yeah!” Ragh screamed, pounding his helmet against his chest, “Let’s go and mutilate the other team! Woo!”

“See, now that’s some great enthusiasm,” Gorthalax wags his clipboard at the orcish player, “I want to see that from all of you. Now let’s hear some hoot growls. Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl!”

“Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl! Hoot Growl!”

A stampede of cleats and warcries filled the pitch as Fabian and the other Owlbears stormed the field, startling the opposing team as they sipped at their tea. Watching a biscuit drop and crumble onto the grass made Fabian grin, an omen for how the game would play out.

Hudol didn’t stand a chance. The Owlbears played to their strengths. Fabian and Ragh never let them have the ball, and on the off chance they did Gorgug tackled them once they stepped foot near the goal. Height and long limbs had their advantage when guarding. Riz helped by confusing them, rolling up into a little ball and jumping into their arms. Sometimes a Hudol boy ran towards Gorgug only to find Riz in his arms smiling. Distracted, they never saw Gorgug until it was too late. They high-fived over the prone figure below them.

Halfway into the third quarter, though, Riz sat on the sidelines. Helmet off and chatting with Fig, their assistant coach and manager. He didn’t think a student could hold such a position, but one day during practice she came in with a whistle and two hats - ‘Ass Coach’ stitched onto one and ‘Womanager’ on the other.

“Is this allowed?” Gorgug asked, “What did Principal Aguefort say about this?”

“He liked my moxy and wanted to know if  I could be coach as well,” Fig said, smirking, “I told him thanks but assistant coach and manager were already enough. Then he did a bump of cocaine, offered me some, and hopped out of his office window.”

Riz arched a brow. “You didn’t take it did you?”

“What are you, a cop?” she huffed, rubbing her nose.

They were most likely discussing plays and maneuvers. Fig surprised him with her skills in both roles she took on. During practices she pushed them harder and further than even his mother during sword practice. Outside the field Fig kept their successes circulating in the school paper and once, for an overnight away game. booked them the nicest motel.

“I didn’t think the school had the budget for something this fancy,” Fabian said while waiting in one lobby with its own water feature. Gorthalax spoke with the lady behind the front desk while the others ran to their rooms.

“Oh it doesn’t,” Fig said, “That’s why I used Gilear’s credit card. Not like he’s spending money on anything other than yogurt.”

Caught up in the memory he doesn’t see the leg of  Hudol player until he’s tripping on it. The ball in his hands goes flying.

Luckily an Owlbear snatches it and powers through over to the Hudol goal. Fabian glares, shoving the boy who tripped him as he stood.

Ragh jogs over to him and slaps his shoulder. “Head in the game, Seacaster. Hoot Growl!”

“Yes, yes - Hoot Growl!” The teams move to set up for the next match after the Owlbears scored their latest goal. Fabian waits in the middle for the referee's whistle. Glancing over to the bench he sees Riz staring at him intently. Under such intense scrutiny forces a blush to settle on Fabian’s cheeks. Trying to will it away only causes him to miss the whistle and see Hudol steal their ball.

“Get it!” Gorthalax screams, “Get the ball!”

Fabian spins and chases the player, bulleting over. Leaping forward Fabian tackles the other boy and rolls with him until he’s crushed underfoot. Grabbing the ball back, he takes a moment to appreciate the cheers erupting from all around. The stands go crazy. He spots a sign held aloft by Adaine and Kristen, both girls stamping their feet in excitement. On the bench Fig is shouting at him, but he can’t notice over the pride glowing from Riz’s face.

He craves more of it. “This one’s for you, Riz,” he says, and charges towards the goal. Fabian slams the goalkeeper to the side and scores a point. Overcome with delicious victory, Fabian throws the ball and begins dancing.

Suddenly someone knocks him to the ground.

Ragh rages over him, teeth bared and drool leaking from his mouth. “You idiot,” he says, “you cost us a point!”

“What?”

Gorgug groans from his side. Craning his neck far enough, Fabian can see the taller boy hunched in on himself. Nursing his wound from the vicious attack he laid upon him.

“There goes our perfect game!” Ragh seethes, “You working against the Owlbears? Is it some kind of elf thing? Because if there’s one thing I don’t like it’s a traitor -”

“Get off of me!” Fabian says, shoving Ragh off of him. Standing he looks past his friend and notices the rest of the scene. His teammates glare at him, scowls hidden behind their helmets. The crowd flipped on him. They boo and taunt him, Adaine and Kristen hiding behind their hands. Gorthalax shakes his head while Fig breaks her clipboard with her knees and sets it aflame.

And Riz winces, as if the overwhelming embarrassment crushing Fabian was too painful to watch.

“Get it together,” Ragh shoves him, jogging over to the starting line, “We have a game to win.”

Owlbears triumph over Hudol with a wide margin. However the celebrations are muted since it wasn’t the landslide they were expecting. The locker room was silent where Fabian changed. No one clapped him on the back or flicked a towel in his direction in good cheer. What he did receive were fumbled assurances from Gorgug - who brushed off his apologies, saying there was no need - and Riz’s attempted jokes.

All Fabian wanted to do was crawl into his bed and die.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fabian sits at Riz’s table confusedly following the red strings criss-crossing the corkboard in front of him. “Wait, how is the Daycare connected to the Pixie smuggling ring?”

Riz sighs, sipping at his coffee. “Okay, so the Pixies…” He launches into another explanation, Fabian doing his best to focus. But like before he stops listening and instead focuses on how Riz’s mouth moves to shape his words. The way his hands flit around and, at times, shake so much Riz nearly drops his coffee. And when he turns to point at his work Fabian’s eyes drop low to appreciate how his slacks cling to his tush.

“And the money from their operations gets funnelled from the Daycare and into these shell accounts,” Riz finishes, facing Fabian again, “Do you get it now?”

He doesn’t trust his voice, so he nods.

Riz smiles. “Good. Then that’s exactly how I’ll explain it to the others when we see them tomorrow.”

Fabian returns it, fiddling with his own mug. Like always they and their friends were wrapped up in some serious trouble. This time Kristen, in trying to set up a physical location for her Church of Yes?, accidentally rented out a space that used to hold illegal artifacts between trades. They discovered this when Gorgug picked one up and unleashed an army of gremlins that wrecked the barren floor. After beating them and destroying the orb Riz sent the evidence to his mother.

Hearing how it was stolen piqued their interest, and once again launched them on another adventure.

A few days of serious investigation later the group reconnected and went over their findings, Riz taking it down and setting the clues on the corkboard. The night dragged on and one after another their friends dropped. Gorgug left first, promising to meet them at school in the morning. After him Adaine said she needed her rest and invited Fig to join her and Kristen for a sleepover.

“Sure,” she said, “can we have a few brewskis and kick it before we hit the hay?”

“I don’t know,” Adain shrugged, “we can always ask Jawbone?”

“Sick!”

That was over an hour ago. Fabian felt the siren call of sleep singing to him, tempting him with the wondrous beauty of sleep. He fought against it as he did everything in life; clawing tooth and nail for what he wants. In this moment it’s to share the cramped kitchen with Riz and his cluttered corkboard.

Riz settles in the seat across from him, pouring another cup of coffee. “You want me to top you off?”

Fabian shakes his head, pushing his mug away. “I really shouldn’t. Too much and I might not be able to hold my sword without it shaking.”

“You get used to it,” Riz says, “Years of drinking this stuff allowed me to take into account the jitters for when I’m shooting my gun.”

“How early did you start drinking coffee?”

“Same as everyone else. Five?”

Fabian bites his lip, unwilling to shatter the illusion for his friend. Instead he glanced behind him at the corkboard again. “I must say, that sure is something…”

Riz follows his gaze. Smiling, he leans into the chair and takes a huge gulp of his drink. “We did a lot of good work. I know officers who can barely think past their patrols who wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

“I think the real credit goes to you,” Fabian says.

The other boy directs his smile at him. “You think so?” he asks, a small tint to his cheeks. Seeing him fluster brings a rush of warmth racing up Fabian’s chest, and he hopes a blush isn’t blooming across his own face.

Everyone knows how deeply Riz loves detective work. Aside from how he dresses and the never-ending supply of mystery novels he keeps in his briefcase, Riz also treats everyday matters like an investigation. Once a water fountain broke and, before the janitor could react, Riz canvassed the area with caution tape and began questioning witnesses for motives. During lunch he explained how, using deductive reasoning, Riz found the stolen item in his Rogue class and where his teacher hid it.

“That’s amazing!” Fig cheered, “Now do Porter! Find out exactly what evil schemes he’s working on!”

No matter what situation they were faced with Riz approached each mystery with a ferocious tenacity for finding the answers. Not willing to rest until every stone was uncovered and the truth was set free. Fabian cannot count the amount of times Riz’s quick thinking saved them or helped them see an important piece of evidence they missed earlier.

With the way Riz’s eyes sparkle under the flickering light bulb, Fabian wants to tell him how much he values and appreciates him.

Instead, what comes out is this. “No one else is as this obsessed with mysteries than you, The Ball.” Wincing, Fabian pinches his thigh in disappointment. Especially when Riz’s face falls.

“Oh…”

“That, I didn’t…” Fabian sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say at all.”

Riz tries to smooth his expressions, except Fabian can clearly see the lines marring his pretty face. “It’s late, I get it. Why don’t you turn in for the night?”

“Don’t you need my help?”

“It’s like what you said… I’m the only one obsessed enough to stay up this late. You don’t have to worry. I’ll crash on the couch if I need to.”

Fabian leaves, drained of any energy to stay and apologize. He shuffles over towards Riz’s room, closing the door behind him. Stepping over empty coffee mugs and sheaths of paper he stops at the smallish bed. Fabian strips off his jacket and jeans, folding them gently and leaving the pile on a clear space of floor. Then he curls up on the bed and wraps the wrinkled sheet around his shoulders.

There’s an ache in his chest where his heart is. Sleep won’t come until he’s finished lambasting himself for shoving his foot into his mouth. At least the smell from Riz’s pillow eases the blows, and gently cradles him as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting at his desk, Fabian thinks that he finally found a way to confess his feelings to Riz.

He got the idea from his mother after a particularly grueling day of training. Fabian laid on the lawn, gasping for breath and waiting as Cathilda prepares a protein shake for him. Hallariel stands beside him, checking her makeup using her sword’s reflective surface as a mirror. A few feet away, sitting on a lawn chair, was Gilear. His mother’s boyfriend played keep away with a seagull who wanted his yogurt.

Turning away from a remarkably hilarious sight, Fabian asked his mother, “How did father win your heart?”

Hallariel shrugged, “With his passionate lovemaking.”

“ Mama !”

“What? You asked me a question and I answered it. Did I do something wrong ?”

“No, I…” Fabian sighed, leaning up on his elbows, “I wanted to know if there was anything he did that might have made you… swoon . Something sweet and romantic. ”

Hallariel’s gaze darted away from her face to her son, smirking. “Does my darling boy fancy a girl?”

“Mama…” Fabian ducked away, blushing, “it’s not a girl …”

“Even better,” she grinned, “now you won’t deal with the crushing disappointment when you realized she could never be as good as your mother.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s no one who could be more perfect than you, mama,” he said, reaching forward to accept the shake from a returning Cathilda, “except maybe Cathilda. If you’re number one she’s definitely number two.”

“Bless your heart, you young thing,” Cathilda said, hand over her heart, “the sweetest you are.” She moves over to Halladriel, “What were you two discussing now?”

“Fabian wants to know if Bill ever did anything romantic,” Halladriel explains, “probably so he can use it for inspiration in winning over his little crush.”

“Oh! Why don’t you tell him about the letters?”

“Letters?” Fabian asked, “What letters?”

“The sweetest things they were,” Cathilda tells him, “your father, Bill Seacaster, would write these beautiful letters to your mother and send them whenever he was away for months on end. Whenever they arrived I’d always read them aloud as Haladriel drifted off to sleep.”

“Papa wrote you letters?” Fabian looked to Haladriel, “Why didn’t you remember this?”

She shrugged again. “Honestly I was toasted so much during my time with your father a lot of it is still a blur…”

Cathlida clapped, drawing their attention towards her again. “We still have them!” she said, “They’ve been put away, but I can dig them out for you if you’d like?”

“I would be delighted.”

Reading through the letters provided Fabian with a lot of details he didn’t need, learning that the beautiful prose was essentially foreplay for his parents. Imagining Cathilda read about his father’s length forced him to pause and spend the next few minutes hovering near the toilet. When he recovered Fabian focused on finding the little bits that weren’t explicit. Where his father compared his mother to the beauty of the sea or explaining how his newly earned riches would look better once locked away with his most valued treasure - his family.

While a letter was deemed gauche by today’s standards, Fabian found the practice intimate. Halfway through composing his own letter, though, he was hit with the worry that his letter wouldn’t arrive. Maybe on the way to his apartment it would be lost or damaged. Perhaps someone other than Riz opens it up? Squanda, to check and make sure the letter wasn’t a bomb. Fabian wouldn’t be surprised if Fig stole Riz’s mail that day and read his feelings, only to then tell Riz and butchering his meaning.

He succumbed to the anxiety and decided on a more direct approach. Fabian transferred his writings to his phone, finishing the letter there to send through text.

Re-reading it for the third time, Fabian realizes he needs to send it.

Fabian copies the text and switches from his notes app over to the messages. Working quickly while the courage of his father swims through his blood Fabian clicks on Riz and his messages. He pastes the text and sends it, slamming his crystal onto the desk face down.

Staring at it won’t make Riz respond faster, yet he cannot pull himself away. Each minute ticks by slowly the longer his crystal stays silent. Allowing for horrible images to flash across Fabian’s mind. Like Riz laughing and sending the letter to their friends, a highly impossible outcome. But the one where Riz spends time crafting the kindest rejection is unfortunately a sound possibility.

Suddenly his crystal flashes to life. Fabian snatches it with terrifying speed, opening the newest message.

It isn’t Riz.

Aelwen cooly thanks him for his devotion, offering him a night of passion if he’s willing to make the journey. Scrolling upwards he sees all the words that poured from his heart - sent to the wrong person.

He hadn’t talked to Aelwen since his disastrous attempt to free her. Fabian managed to follow through on his promise and fought for her freedom alongside the ragtag crew he gathered for the mission. Dodging spells and powering through guards, Fabian rode the Hangman and crashed through her cell. Then, after a kiss filled with searching hands and tongue, he helped her onto his motorcycle and fled to his ship.

Halfway across the Celestine Sea, Aelwen showed her true colors. Fabian found her preparing a dinghy for leave one starless night. He asked her where she was going.

“I’m leaving,” she said, “Is that not obvious?”

“But… but why?” Fabian asked, gut screaming as if stabbed. “We’re almost to Solace. And there we can be together… I - I thought…”

“You thought what?” Aelwen snickered, “You thought that I’d go with you because you freed me? Sorry to break it to you but I don’t slum it with trash, even if they’re somewhat cute and entertaining as you.”

Vision spinning, he staggered backwards. “W-what?”

“Thank you for all your help,” she said, untying the last rope, “But I must return to Fallinel. A friend offered me a room at her estate when I was free and I’ve kept her waiting long enough.” Hopping into the dinghy, Aelwen winked at him one last time. “Do tell my sister one thing for me? Even though she’s now an oracle she still can’t see what a colossal disappointment she is to the Abernant name. Farewell!”

The rope slips from her hands and she drops into the ocean, nothing left but the splash on her exit. Fabian doesn’t run to see her off, rooted to the deck as the pieces of his heart spear through his boots. When he collects them, Fabian shuffles towards his cabin and hides them until they reach shore.

His reception wasn’t well received. Adaine screamed at him until her voice was hoarse, pounding against his chest until she slumped over and was led away by Kristen. Fig and Gorgug didn’t say anything but kept their distance for the next few weeks. Only Riz stuck by his side.

The other boy sat with him after everyone left, understanding that Fabian had to go and see Aelwen. “Once you make up your mind about something,” Riz chuckled, “it’s hard getting you to change it.”

Riz’s words held no judgement. Even as Fabian confessed everything, including how Aelwen used and left him; he asked how that made him feel and hugged him through the rolling wave of depression that swelled inside.

Things returned to normal after a while. Adaine forgave him, and their group drifted together again. Except it wasn’t the same.

During the days Fabian and Riz were left alone he finally began to take notice of how special and important the goblin boy was to him.

So seeing how disastrously he messed up something as easy as a text, sending it to the worst person imaginable, turns his hopes into ash.

Fabian deletes the messages and leaves his phone on silent.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s now or never.

Fabian needs to take a leap of faith and lead with action. His father would chastise him thoroughly for how he’s tiptoed across the whole ordeal. Inviting embarrassment by tiptoeing around Riz. When he should do first and apologize later - if at all.

The group sits huddled together in Basrar’s, enjoying some milkshakes. Ever since Adaine freed him from his curse, Basrar has branched out to include other items in his menu besides various ice creams. To varying levels of success. While his milkshakes were delicious Fabian suffered at the hands of his chicken nuggets.

But they’re not slurping them as vigorously as they usually do. Too worn out from fighting pirates all day at Seacaster Manor.

His crew from the Aelwen misadventure came calling for Fabian, demanding their pay. He should have seen this coming since, bereft of any common sense by the heartbreak, he gave them a map rumored to lead to the grandest treasures of all. Except he drew it up in less than five minutes and water-logged it with tears.

When they finally discovered the ruse the ship set course for their newest mission - robbing the accumulated riches of Bill Seacaster.

Pirates were no match, of course, for the combined efforts of his friends, his mother and housekeeper. “And Gilear,” Halladriel added, standing over the corpses of their enemies, “we couldn’t have done it without his help.”

He glared at the sad elf his mother rubbed against, her hands tugging at his jacket. They knew Gilear added nothing of value to the battle save for the accidentally flung yogurt that sabotaged the cannon firing at them. Halladriel wouldn’t hear reason and began undressing Gilear in front of them.

“Best to run along, children,” Cathilda ushered them away, “Who knows how long they’ll be at it.”

Kristen swallowed her vomit. “Gross.”

“It’s not gross,” Fig defended her second father, “it’s good for him.”

“Well it’s awful for me,” Fabian hissed, “let’s go before we hear anything.”

“Oh!” Halladriel cried from a distance, a cold chill shooting up his spine, “You taste so sweet! What is that flavor?”

“Nothing too adventurous… just a simple vanilla mango yogurt…”

Fabian led them away with blinding speed. They decided on Basrar’s thirty minutes into their wandering, too sore to stay upright for long. Sliding into the booth the group ordered and enjoyed the calm environment. For once the group rested quietly, enjoying the silence.

It was so peaceful Fabian could think clearly for the first time in a while. An epiphany floated down from above and entered his spirit, imbuing it with strength.

Riz rests against his shoulder, skin tingling under his shirt and jacket. The smaller boy was injured pretty badly during the fight. Kristen’s healing only helped so much and Riz looks seconds away from sleeping. Kept awake only by the gentle shakes from Fabian every so often.

He wants to do this before sleep lulls him away, so Fabian softly whispers Riz’s name. Riz glances at him, frowning. “Yeah?”

“Riz, I…” A voice that sounds like his father cuts through his mind, telling him to stow his words. Show the other boy what he feels and steal a kiss. Cooling his nerves, Fabian leans down to do that. To capture Riz’s lips with his own.

But then something cold drips onto his nose.

“What’s th-” A blob slams into Fabian’s face and knocks him backwards, falling onto the floor. He curses and wipes the mess clear. Investigating what hit him, Fabian finds the culprit was a stray scoop of ice cream.

“Oh my God!” Fig screams, “it’s raining ice cream!”

Ice cream pelts their station, inspiring different reactions from the group. Unlike Fabian they cheered at the surprise dessert storm.

“How is this possible?” Adaine asked, chocolate ice cream melting on her head, “Our wish was already fulfilled?”

Basrar drifts over, smiling. “That is true, yes. However, I received a call from a man named Gilear asking that I serve you kids a treat so you would stay far from the Seacaster manor a bit while longer. He asked me if I could conjure some yogurt, but I told him that my magic does not create something so... sad . So then he asked if I could give you all frozen yogurt, which I could only assume was a strange way of saying ice cream!”

“Are you kidding me!” Fabian growls aloud, “How did Gilear even find out where we were?”

“I texted him,” Fig says, scooping ice cream off of Kristen’s shoulder. “Figured he’d want to know where we were in case more pirates came back.”

He groans as more ice cream pelts his prone body. Squinting one eye open Fabian sees all his friends save Riz enjoying the treat. Riz smiles down at him, fondness shining in his eyes. Fabian flushes, turning away from the stare.

Shoes squish onto the ice cream as Riz jumps out of his seat. He offers a hand to Fabian, “Need some help?”

Fabian answers by weakly taking Riz’s hand, pushing forward.

Instead of standing Riz tugs Fabian closer to him and slips an arm around his waist. Riz kisses Fabian, surprising him and earning catcalls from their friends. He ends their embrace, still smiling.

Fabian cannot wipe the shock from his expression. “Did you-?”

“Do what you should have done from the start?” Riz chuckles, “Yeah. Did you like it?”

“Did I like it -?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lou slams his fist on the table. “This is some bullshit,” he says, “How is it that I’ve spent countless games rolling nat 1’s trying to seduce you. And the first time you decide to flirt back you roll a nat 20. Bullshit!”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Murph laughs along with the other intrepid heroes, “Usually my rolls are the crap ones.”

“Is that why you never helped out until now?”

Murph grins, winking. “Nah, I liked seeing how many times Fabian suffered.”

He scoffs, “You think that’s going to make me want to kiss you again?”

Brennan jumps into the conflict, shoulders shaking with contained laughter. “With a nat 20 Fabian and Riz begin making out in the storm of ice cream.”

“Oh come on!” Lou cries, “Fabian’s supposed to be the dashing hero! He had to make the first move! These dice are cursed.”

Emily shakes her head, cackling. “Could be worse. Riz could’ve rolled a nat 1 and we’d have to sit through another round of you trying and failingseduction rolls.”

“It’s not easy,” Lou argues, “Love to see you try and get a nat 20.”

“I so could,” she says, “you saw how hot and heavy me and Dr. Asha got. The next time we see him I’ll roll and ask him to marry him.” Brennan rolls some dice, drawing the group’s attention. He barks a quick laugh, looking to Emily. Her smile falls, “Uh oh, what?”

“All the commotion of raining ice cream and teens making out means the entire store is looking at your booth. Especially one seat at the bar where a dwarven doctor relaxed after a long shift at St. Owen’s Memorial Hospital,” Brennan explains, chewing on a chip he sneaked. “He walks over and, to Fig, asks, ‘Dr. Keller? Why are you hanging with these teens and not at home watching the kids?”

Lou erupts with laughter, leaning back in his seat and clapping. Emily scowls, grabbing for her dice. “What do I have to roll.”

“Let’s start with a deception.”

“Okay I’m good with deception…” She rolls, slapping her hand against the table. “I got a four. But that’ll be over a ten.”

“Say what you’re going to say.”

Emily clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “I needed a break from the kids and release the inner child in my heart with these… actual children?”

Brennan squints, head skewed to the side. “Dr. Asha is taken aback by that, slightly, but wants to believe in your relationship. ‘Did you at least get a babysitter’?”

“Yeah, yeah they’re fine…”

Lou turns to her. “So, are you gonna ask?”

“I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it…” Emily says, “So, Dr. Asha, I know we’ve been seeing each other, and we have kids… I think we should take this to the next level. I think we should get married.”

Brennan rolls another die. “Make a seduction roll, with disadvantage.”

“Fine.” Emily drops two dice on the table. Looking between the two, she screams and drops her head onto the table.

“What did you get?” Brennan asks.

Zac, at her side, uproariously laughs. “She rolled a twenty and a one.” They all hiss at the disastrous roll.

“A twenty,” Emily chuckles self-deprecatingly, “How can I split it this bad?”

Lou asks Brennan, “What happens?”

Brennan rolls a few more dice before smirking at Emily, doom curling his lips. “As you ask this Dr. Asha’s phone lights up with a call. He answers it, and the real Dr. Kelly speaks from the other end. Asking if he can bring home a pint of ice cream for the twins.”

“Oh, crap.”

“And,” the dice ominously tap against the table. “When he hangs up a couple enters Basrar’s - one elven ranger and the other a ginormous demon. It’s Sandralyn and Gorthalax!”

“Seriously?” Emily hisses, “How is this possible?”

“It’s possible because of the dice, baby,” Brennan says, “They see you and come over. Gorthalax starts up, ‘Fig! Oh, my lovely daughter, Fig. We didn’t know you’d be hear. Are you having fun? It’s so great to enjoy the days of youth before it’s all over. Being a high school student can truly be some of the best times of your life. Anyway, we won’t cramp your hang - get home at a reasonable time, though!’ They seat themselves far away, leaving a stunned Fig and Dr. Asha.”

Chin trembling, Emily asks, “Does he still accept my proposal?”

Brennan claps, laughing. “Dr. Asha leaves immediately.”

“Dammit!”

“See,” Lou says, “it’s not that easy.”

Emily rolls her eyes, “Just enjoy making out with my husband, okay?”

“I will!”