#Silent Hill Firm

[justaaveragereader]

Ice On My Teeth Or Ice In My Mouth

Pairing: OT8 x Reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Switch Reader, Dom!Hwa, Dom!Yunho, Noona Kink, Everyone Else Is Subs, Bukkake, Name Calling (Good Boy, Darling, Slut..) Breast Play, Oral, Cum Eating, Dirty Talk, Mentions Of Reader Taming Woo, Spitting, Slight Exhibitionism, Reader Loves Being Watched, All Of Them Love Readers Grill, If I Missed Anything…Lemme Know👀👀

A/N: This comeback good lord…all my villain Yunho enthusiasts stand up with me! BC HOT DAMN, there is so much to talk about but when I tell you I rannnnn to google docs to punch up this fic, I swear the MV was so scrumptious I thought we would have a part 2 of Hwa ina grill, or any of them but it’s alright🙄😒, I made the reader make up for the lack of grills in the MV. Also Dom!Hwa and Dom!Yunho they 🤪, I will die on the hill that Yunho, Jongho, and Hwa top three doms in the group. Fic wasn’t entirely proof read so🙃 Hope yall enjoy😚

Masterlist

All Ageless, Blank, and Bot Looking Blogs Will Be Blocked.

“You wanna what!?” You exclaim, sweaty back against the floor, heaving with deep breaths as teaching all 8 members the choreography to their upcoming comeback was draining you more than it was draining them.

“It’s just a thought..” Seonghwa said silently while patting the sweat off of your forehead with a small towel.

“You really wanna share me? With all of them!?” You say, pushing his hand away slightly, leaning up on your elbows. With a smile I’m his face and a careless shrug he nods his head. Clearly he has thought about this before, it just was finding the right time to bring it up to you. Seonghwa was a lot of things but selfish when it came to sex was not one. He’d be lying if he said he hadn't thought of sharing you with his own members, he saw the twinkle in their eyes when you paid them a compliment, or even when you all sat for movie night brushing against one of the other members thoughtlessly.

“I think it’ll be fun, imagine that, you covered in their cum. While you swallow mine, just think about it princess.” Seonghwa hums out, continuing to brush away the sweat on your forehead, nodding your head lightly. He begins to hum with each wipe, your mind goes straight to the thought of you being a cum dump for all of the members. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about each and everyone one of them in that way, they were all attractive men, it was no secret their looks were second to none. A group of 8 visuals, with amazing personalities to match. You sat and thought about what Seonghwa had said for weeks on end, coming towards the end of the month right before the comeback began you took him up on that offer.

~

“You can cum on her but no one is allowed to touch her.” Seonghwa says, his hand firm on your hip while your eyes flicker through each members expression. Immediately nodding his head Mingi stands up, beginning to fiddle with his belt. Grabbing his arm Jongho pulls him back down, furring his eyebrows at him.

“That doesn’t seem entirely fair.” Wooyoung says, keeping his legs crossed tightly not wanting to show his hard cock through his pants. Per usual this bratty personality arises. Making you cock your head slightly to the side, eyes swirling with dominance wondering what it would be like to tame the Jung Wooyoung. Seonghwa notices your eyes swirling with excitement, patting your hips, he grabs a soft pillow from the couch tossing it in the middle of the room. The soft item hitting the floor with a silent thump.

“This isn't about us, this is about him.” Yunho says, eyes twinkling with his own lust, man spreading loud and proud. Your eyes flicker down to his cock that’s standing at attention in his sweatpants. Raising his eyebrow, Seonghwa looks at Yunho impressed, nodding slightly, he looks at the man mentally applauding him for putting two and two together so quickly.

”What can I say?” Seonghwa says with a shrug to his shoulders, eyes twinkling with pride, patting the top of your thigh you let out a quiet sigh.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen her with other men.” With a shrug to his shoulders he leans back against the couch. Your eyes flicker over to Mingis jittery figure. Biting his polished nails with anticipation, he didn’t care how it happened, he just wanted it to happen. Choking on his spit, Hongjoongs eyes double in size, side eyeing Seonghwa, clearly he had known of your and Seonghwas sex life but he didn’t think cuckholding or swinging would be something he’s into.

“Fuck it, I’m in!” San says, brushing his sweaty palms on his pants. With all the boys coming around slowly, they all begin to stand in a circle, surrounding the pillow. With a firm squeeze to your hips your eyes float to each man. Anticipation, nerves, and hard cocks.

“How do you want me?” You say loudly, eyes continuing to flicker between each man, yet subconsciously they all knew you were speaking directly to Seonghwa. With a small smile cracking on your face, the light catching the silver grill lining the top of your teeth. Making all the men in the room let out soft groans of desperation.

“Naked and on your knees, darling.” As you begin to stand, hands clutching the bottom of your shirt to pull it off of your head you hear a small whimper leave Yeosang and Mingis throat. Before you can continue taking your clothes off, Seonghwas hand stops you as your fingers come up to unclip your bra.

“Make it worthwhile for them, they look like pent up college boys.” He says with a snicker, leaning back against the cushions once more. Watching as your naked figure makes way towards the pillows. As your knees hit the soft item, your shoulders jitter slightly with excitement. Chin up, head on a swivel you turn your head to look at all of the members as they stand before you. Cocks hard, some biting their lip, others with their hands balled into a tight fist, trying to hold back their orgasm. Just seeing you kneeling before them was enough to make them blow their load.

“Well…are you going to pull those pretty cocks out, or am I going to have to beg some of you for that.” You say matter of factly, voice laced with a slight innocent tone. You hear a small whimper to the right of you, head turning to look who it’s from your eyes grow with darkness, eyelids hooded as you seek out your first member.

“Look at wet patch on your pants Mingi, someone is excited.” With a heavy blush to his cheeks, he shifts from foot to foot. Fiddling with the waistline of his pants. With a soft coo you beckon him over with a lift of your finger, moving like he’s in a trance. His feet move swiftly, bumping Hongjoong as he makes his way towards you. Standing in front of you with his large stature. You place a hand on his waist and on his pants, tugging at the material slightly, as the air hits his cock he lets out a whine, his large cock smacking the bottom of his stomach before standing at attention in your face.

“I thought you said we can’t touch her..” Wooyoung says, eyes deeply boring at the sight in front of him.

“He never said I couldn’t touch you..” you say, eyes darting over to Wooyoung who doubles over in moans as your eyes cut to him. His bratty ways make your body break out in goosebumps. Saying a silent prayer to yourself, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time that you all did this. Your itch to tame Woos bratiness was at an all time high, gripping Mingis cock firmly, your eyes traveled back to him.

“You're going to cum on me, baby.” You moan to Mingi, fingers dancing along his length. With an eager nod he bites his lip, staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him.

“You got such a pretty cock Mingi.” You whisper while placing a small kiss on the base of his cock. His body jerking instantaneously, knees buckling he clenches his hands in a tight fist, nails digging into his palms.

“N-noona please..” Mingi begs, chest beginning to heave, thighs twitching with each soft kiss you place on his dick. Your eyes cut into a seductive look, eyelids growing heavy as you begin to hear the big man begging for you.

“Are you going to cum for me Mingi?” You say though each small kiss, fingers brushing lightly over his tight balls. His knees buckle as you continue to talk to him. Voice as smooth as silk flowing in and out of his ears.

Tugging down his own pants San wraps a firm hand around his cock, groaning at the sensation of his warm hand wrapped around it. Eyes shut, titling his head back, he imagines it's your hand around his hardened length. Eyes squeezing with each sweet, filthy word you speak. Each member starts to slowly grab their own cocks, bodies twitching with excitement as your naked frame sits in the middle of the room.

Your eyes float from Mingis face down to his lower abdomen, bringing your other hand up to brush over this lower stomach. Brushing your lips over the tip of his cock, he lets out a small, high pitched whine. Jerking his hips slightly, you watch as his hands flex tightly.

“You are such a good boy for me Mingi.” You whisper out, lips continuing to brush over his leaky tip. His knees buckle once more, lower lash like filling with tears that are meer seconds away from being shed.

“I’m a good boy?” He whimpers out, gripping the lower fabric of his shirt. Wet eyes shooting over to Seonghwa, eyebrows furring in a pleading look. Your hand that was rubbing across his lower belly moves to his balls once again, giving them a firm squeeze making Mingi jump, his eyes dart back to you.

“Ah, ah, ah. You look at me Mingi, you are my good boy, not Seonghwas.”

With a loud moan, Mingis hand gripping the lower half of his shirt tighter, head tilting back as you feel his cock pulsing in his palms.

“Who's my pretty boy?” You ask through a moan, tongue swiping between the slit of Mingis cock.

“Me..” he whimpers out pathetically.

“Look at me Mingi.” As he prys open his eyes, looking down at you. The sight before him has him teetering the edge of orgasm.

“Who's my pretty boy?” You ask seductively before slipping your tongue between the slit once more before kissing the tip, and giving his balls a squeeze.

“M-meeee!” He groans out knees practically giving out as he cums with the firm tug you give his balls. A loud whine leaves his throat, doubling over your kneeling form as he shoots his milky load all over your warm skin. His cum splashing on your lower lip, getting on some of the grill, and face. As he finishes you give him one firm squeeze before he jerks his body back. Swiping some of the cum off your lower lip. You let his flavor dance on your tongue as you look up at Mingi, who looks like he’s just ran a marathon, tongue darting out to lick over the shining piece in your mouth, with weak knees he wobbles his way over to the far end of the couch. Tossing his limp body on it.

As your chest grows sticky with Mingis dripping cum you look up at the others, eyes dancing to figure out who's next. Your eyes instantly land on Wooyoung, beckoning him over with a flick of your finger he follows as well. As he makes his way forward you call out for Yeosang, and Jongho. With Wooyoung standing in front of you, Jongho on your left, and Yeosang on your right. Your head swivels between the three men. Swiping the cum off your chest you lube your hands up in his cum, firmly grabbing Yeosang and Jonghos dick. Both of them let out a loud hissing noise at your warm hands wrapped around their lengths.

“Touch yourself, now.” You say to Wooyoung, his hand slowly snakes itself to his member. Wrapping a hand loosely around it, he pumps himself to the same speed that you are pumping Yeosang and Jongho. Alternating between suckling on the tip of their cocks, you keep your eyes on Wooyoung.

“You are such a brat you know that?” You muffle out, popping off of Jonghos dick, before going to spit on Yeosangs, as the cool spit hits his cock you watch as Wooyoungs cock bounces slightly in his hold.

“Look at you, stroking your cock all because Noona asked. What a slut.” You say through a slight chuckle, biting his lip he racks his brain for a slick comeback yet he comes up short. Biting his lip he steps closer to you, cock brushing against your warm cum coated skin. Gathering all the spit in your mouth, you spit it on Wooyoungs cock. His back arching slightly at the sudden feeling. Jonghos hips stutter in your firm grasp. Your thumb coming down to roll over his reddened tip. Releasing your hands from both men on your sides you tilt your head back slightly..

“Who wants to be the first to come in my mouth?” You ask, eyes growing heavy as you stick your tongue out, with your mouth wide open.

“Oh fuck…” Jongho whispers out before standing by Wooyoung, his hand wrapping around his cock as he begins to stroke himself quickly. Yeosang remains where he is. His eyes glued to your form, as his hand comes down to wrap around his cock. You swipe some of Mingis cum off of you before swiping it on Yeosangs member.

“Such filthy sluts I have around me.” You moan out, with each word you degrade all three of them with the closer and closer they are to their release. Yeosangs attractive flushed face twists in pleasure milking his leaking cock for all that it’s worth. As he pumps himself two more times, he’s letting out a loud cry. Head tossing back in pleasure as roles of cum dance along your skin. Shooting all over your shoulder and the side of your breast, it sets off a chain reaction. Eyes dancing along Yeosangs figure, as he groans with each final pump. White teeth sinking into the bottom of his plush lip, Jongho tries his best to keep his hands off of you. Watching your sly reaction as Yeosang paints your skin has his toes gripping the carpet below him, watching Yeosangs face contort in such pleasure has his body jerking, the final line snapping as he hears Yeosang whimper your name out quietly. Triggering his own orgasm, he clenches his shirt tightly, hips jerking forward as the tip of his cock brushes the side of your mouth.

Quickly turning so he can paint the inside of your mouth with his release, wanting to leave his stain on the studded jewelry in your mouth. Wooyoung grips his cock tightly once more, applying heavy pressure to the tip before he’s spilling into his own release. His warm cum dances along your skin, mixing with Jonghos as they paint the inside of your mouth. While both men retreat back to their seats, Seonghwa stands up, making his way towards you. With your cheeks squished between his thin fingers, he watches as your cum coated mouth is swimming in both men’s release.

“You are going to suck me off while the other 3 boys have their turn with you. Lay down.” As your eyes twinkle with excitement. You lay on your back, mouth still cum coated, studded jewelry still shining under the light with each smile. Waiting for Seonghwa to tell you when to swallow, you watch as Yunho, San, and Hongjoong approach you slowly. As if they were a group of lions walking about their feast for the night.

Kneeling down, Hongjoongs cock ghosts right above your face. His hand firmly wrapped around him, with your cum stained tongue rolling out of your mouth he can’t help but let out a low groan. Yunho continues to stand, his large figure swallowing your small frame on the ground. Standing over your stomach Seonghwa kneels down both of his legs trapping the sides of your body, while San stands directly between your legs, that you’ve hiked up, feet planting on the ground so he could get a good look at your cunt. With Seonghwa kneeling over you to get a perfect shot at cumming on your tits. Your eyes flicker to each man standing around you. Your body grows with excitement. Thighs slickening up with arousal as you hear the panting of men, as they pump firm hands up and down their cocks. Inching closer to you, Seonghwa slowly pushes his cock between your lips. As your tongue instantly darts out over hardened length you lock eyes with Yunho who is standing over as if he’s in charge of this whole thing.

As you sucked on Seonghwa harder, making sure to swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, tongue hugging against the throbbing vein that runs on the underside just how he likes it. The sight before San has him in a trance, his grip on his cock eases up as he’s too enamored with the way you suck Seonghwa in your mouth. With spit pooling around your lips, and dripping down to your naked chest, he gets lost in his dirty thoughts. Your eyes flicker over to his large frame, eyes growing heavy, and seductive with each suck you give Seonghwa. As one of your hands comes up to rub the base of his cock, you continue to lock eyes with Yunho. A battle of dominance between you both, one that you know you will lose. As Seonghwa rubs his thumb across the bottom of your jaw. Eyes flickering to your scrunched face, eyes heavy in concentration on Yunho, that your sucking begins to speed up. As Yunho watches you inhale Seonghwas cock, his own jumps at the sight. The small groans leaving your mouth, the clenching of your thighs. His heavy gaze is too much to bare, you break eye contact with Yunho, eyes fluttering to the man on top of you who's looking at you with a wild look.

“Usually she’s such a brat..” Seonghwa groans out, his eyes never leaving your concentrated face.

“First person I’ve seen her so easily submit too…” he says through a low moan, before pulling his cock from your mouth. The cool feeling of the grill makes him groan, the piece of jewelry hugging your teeth has his knees buckling.

“Isn’t that right, pretty?” He replies in a airy voice, your eyes wet with unshed tears from coughing slightly, you look at the four men hovering above you, a small smile creeping onto your face. Feeling too close to blowing his lid, he moves from kneeling in between your thighs to move on the side of you, directly across from Hongjoong making sure not to take up the space Yunho was standing in.

“Yes..” you whisper out before reaching up to touch Sans throbbing cock, that was twitching in his hand, eyes wide, with his pupils blown. Collecting some of the spit from the corners of your mouth, you rub your moist thumb over Sans tip, a loud mewl leaves his throat, knees buckling almost instantaneously. Your other hand comes up to run across the base of Hongjoong, his precum beading at the redden tip of his cock. With his large hand wrapping around his own member, he pumps himself while watching your every move. Yunho always carried a heavy presence, it practically made you wanna melt.

“Fuck…you are so heavy Hongjoong..” you whisper out, finger tips dancing along his tightened, heavy balls. A small whimper passes through his lips, pulling his head back as you give them a firm squeeze, he makes a move to stop your hand, not wanting to blow his load so quickly yet he remembers the rules. No touching you.

Seonghwa reaches up to crush your boobs together, creating the perfect crevice for him to stick his dick between. Hiking up your chest further, he lets out a loud groan at the feeling of your warm side flesh hugging his cock, with swift movements he begins to rock forward, making sure the tip of his cock taps your chin.

“She’s taking it so well..” San says through a small cry, your thumb still rubbing around his tip. Your eyes leave Hongjoongs..

“You are taking it so well to Sannie..” you whisper out, licking the top of your lip, eyes growing dark as you feel him and Hongjoong pulsing in your hands.

With your heavy gaze on the men above you, biting your lip, the silver shine from your grill has Yunhos hips stuttering in his firm grasp, with Seonghwa letting out a small mewl on top of you, sweat slowly rolls down his temples, eyebrows furring with trying his best not the cum so fast. Licking the top of your lip, your eyes grow heavy at the feeling of both men throb between your hands, pulsing with need. Letting your tongue roll out slowly, making sure to slide your tongue over the shining jewelry coating the front of your teeth, all four men above you look like they are on the verge melting right into you.

“Come on..” you moan out quietly, gripping Hongjoong and Sans cocks a bit firmer, eyes darting to all the men above you..

“Cum on me..”

DO NOT REPOST.

[queers-gambit]

Shadows of the Past

prompt: the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 5.1k+

note: wonky brain can think of nothing but this show right now i'm so sorry

warnings: cursing, spoilers, another reader insert for the haters, depiction of character injury, emotions are hard, small canon complicit angst, literal hurt and comfort, established relationship.

"Tell me again," your brother-in-law asked, "why you're not leading this company?"

You smirked, stepping over a fallen branch, "Because the High King has bestowed the honor to Herald Elrond, Daenor."

"Then why enlist you, too?"

"I am a mere emissary of the King. Besides, skills are required for this quest, Daenor, why would I not be employed?"

"Right, of course. I guess my question should be, what skills do you possess?" He teased, laughing when you shoved his shoulder playfully. "But truly," he asked, "why would the King send you both, so close to your wedding day? Why send you, too, if not to lead this company?" However, before you could answer, the air turned serious when the procession you followed came to a rather disturbing discovery upon the laid path.

You leaned on the intact stone while listening to Camnir discuss with Elrond possible paths forward after intending to cross a bridge over the gorge, only to find it in ruins and rubble. Elrond originally questioned the force that could've brought the ancient stone down in such a harsh and violent manner, thinking perhaps lightning, but another voice refuted this idea by claiming it was the Dark Lord, Sauron.

This familiar voice was that of Lady Galadriel - and while you've known her to be a fellow Commander, you were unsure of her title now. Yes, she was technically lieutenant of this company, and that was what she was addressed as, but you knew how stubborn the Elleth was and that she would not be so easily demoted.

You said nothing. You just listened as Camnir told Elrond they could take one of two paths: one so out of the way, it would add two weeks to their journey, and the other, down the same darkened path the Dark Lord laid.

Upon mentioning the path before them through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad, Lady Galadriel twitched. She had been daintily ghosting her fingertips over the charred and mangled metal of the lanterns set on the imploded bridge, seemingly stuck in thought, then freezing. You couldn't see her face, only taking note of the brisk tension mounting in the Elleth's shoulders.

She spoke, "There is evil in those hills." The group shared silent looks, each with varying degrees of mistrust or caution. "Ancient, and full with malice," Galadriel glared at the landscape before her. "Sauron means for us to go that way. We must go another," She informed the group as if she were in a position to give orders.

From the crouch he took to observe the damage done to the stone, Elrond rose while speaking in a firm tone that overpowered the Lady's, "The Enemy is doubtless watching both roads." His eyes flickered over yours last as jetting over each of his soldiers, clocking the way you nodded in agreement. To you, it seemed common sense: of course, the bad guy was watching the paths that would lead the good guys to him! He was evil, not stupid! Elrond reminded his people, "This collapse makes it more critical than ever to reach Celebrimbor at speed."

"We won't reach anywhere with speed if we walk into a trap," Galadriel argued; the two friends (and distant cousins) held each other's even stare for several moments.

"What say you, Commander?" You asked, hoping to break the tension and little trance they were locked in. No, no, not out of jealousy, but out of protectiveness; wanting to break the ice for the sake of Elrond's authority.

"We go South," Elrond decided, turning from the fragmented bridge stump, ready to lead his company on, when Galadriel spoke again - from the same spot she had yet to move from.

"Commander, I must protest."

You did not move when the others did, you waited when Elrond paused and replied, "Your opinion on the matter has been heard."

He went to walk away again when Galadriel growled with a rolling tongue, "Elrond!"

You flinched to a halt in blinding irritation, upset by your peer's very audacity. Everyone halted around you, Camnir even shifting in his stance out of nervousness from the heat of your glare not on him. Your fiancé turned back to glare at his friend, ending with finality, "Opinion heard, lieutenant. We go South." He gave an encouraging command in Sindarin, leading only a few strides before pausing. When you automatically halted yourself at his side, he nodded and spoke softly while seemingly mindlessly grabbing your hand to give an affectionate and reassuring squeeze, "Lead them on, love, stay on the trail."

You glanced back at Galadriel, who was finally moving to keep up, and whispered for only his ears, "You sure?"

"I'm sure, go on," he confirmed, nodding again and offering a soft sort of half-smirk. His eyes, though, were squinted; indicating he was genuine in his displayed gentleness. With a squeeze to his hand, you offered one last stale look at Galadriel, who expertly avoided your eyes, then let go and walked forward to lead the way.

Behind you, Elrond snarled his scolding of Galadriel, insisting she shape up, forgo trust in the Ring of Power she wore, and if that wasn't possible, she needed to excuse herself. The Commander of the Northern Armies rebutdtaled that she did not desire to see any member of the company slain - a veiled response to her stubbornness to not abandon their quest and refusal to ignore her ring.

Forward, you marched.

Though you seldom showed it, you felt fearfully nervous when the night fell and your company crept further into what felt like infected wood. The ground turned spongey, a particular stench permeated the air, the darkness shadowed most all you saw. The trees loomed tall, the moon casted a bright silver light, and dead leaves crunched under booted, lithe steps. Elrond shared a nervous look with you, his hand only briefly brushing yours; a way to say he was there with you without being overly affectionate in front of his soldiers.

From the corner of his eye, Elrond saw your head tilt back in wonder before a fell voice hissed on the wind, "I am waiting for you." But in truth, nobody was sure about what they heard or did not hear. Perhaps they did not want to know, but still, the voice made the area further darken in suspicion, and once in a small clearing, all came to a halt to survey the surrounding area. There was a threat somewhere, but where exactly was yet to be determined.

Daenor questioned sharply, "What is this place?"

"Tyrn Gorthad," Camnir answered. "Known to men as the Barrow-downs."

You chimed in softly, "In ancient days, this was where they laid their lords and kings to rest."

"I feel no rest here," Daenor grumbled. "Even the trees seem ill at ease."

"Fear not," Vorohil chimed in, sounding amused while stepping up to (and through) your group's observation deck. "Dead men are no threat."

"Well, we've lived very different lives," you scoffed under your breath.

However, after Vorohil, Elrond followed; casting a look at the lot of you and reminding, "Keep moving."

You let the others pass ahead of you, trying to shake off your nerves and mentally prepare yourself for the hell you were walking into. Something anchored your feet, refusing to let go; every nerve in your body on fire and begging you not to wade into the dark. Your name was spoken gently, Galadriel's hand on your shoulder startling you.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"We shouldn't be here," you whispered, Elrond doubling back when he noted your delay. Not wanting a confrontation, Galadriel sighed and patted your shoulder before slipping away as your lover approached you.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly but urgently.

"There's something sinister here," you told him stiffly, stepping half a step closer, "watching us."

He took a breath, "If Galadriel's ring - "

"It's not that!" You insisted. "I feel it, Elrond, not the ring, not anything Galadriel said. I feel it."

Elrond's brows furrowed at the tips, like something hooked them to yank towards his nose. "Then stay close to me," he decided.

"We should move on, quickly," you snatched his hand to prevent him from parting; his gaze turning worried. "Please, listen to me."

"My love," he spoke softly, squeezing your hand, "it is a gravesite, nothing more. The dead cannot harm us."

"It is the living's influence I fear."

He sighed and nodded, "We will not linger." His forehead found yours to rest, "But do not stray from my side, it is of great comfort."

"To us both," you agreed, letting him pull back. Yet he did not relinquish hold of your hand, keeping it tight in his and leading you into the clearing the others were surveying.

"Commanders," Rían called, standing over the corpses of two horses... Attacked seemingly a time ago, and upon inspection, discovered the pairing bodily remains of an Elvish party.

Elrond questioned your name when you squatted, brushing aside debris. "Their barding is from Lindon," you told him, gently ghosting the leather with your touch. You looked up to meet his eyes, glancing over to see Galadriel, predicting, "The King sent a dispatch to warn Celebrimbor."

Galadriel nodded in confirmation as Rían discovered the encased message from the King in a decorative tube, asking, "This dispatch?"

Slowly, you stood from your position and held a silent hand out, being given the tube for inspection; all eyes on you, waiting for whatever your overly keen (even for an Elf) eyes would see. After confirming the contents, your eyes locked with Galadriel's, and she spoke what you both were thinking: "We must go from this place."

Elrond appeared ready to agree, tension mounting as your company seemingly felt the blanket of panic being thrown over them all. From the dark, a set of rotting chains shot out to coil around Daemor, yanking him into the toxic, spongey earth and across the clearing.

"Y/N!" He shouted in shock, and without thinking, your hands slapped into his as if in an effort to anchor him... But you were both yanked off your feet. "Commander!"

"Daenor! NO!"

"Help me! Y/N, Y/N, please!"

"Hold onto me!" You begged, being drug on your belly.

"Sister! Sister, please, help me! Help me!" He sobbed in fear, a vice grip on your wrists and hands surely to leave blemishes. "Don't let go! Pl-eeeeeaaaaaase!"

"Daenor!" You whimpered, struggling as the force that held you both hostage was too strong to maintain a safe, secure hold permanently - meaning, saving him was futile.

Your name was bellowed, being drug towards one of the opened tombs; but at the last moment, the tether that kept you and Daenor together was broken and he was pulled into the abyss of the grave. You whimpered in fear, slowly lifting from your belly and to your knees as Daenor's screams were silenced... In fact, the entire area turned eerily quiet.

Behind you, the others rushed to the scene and Elrond immediately dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around you. "Are you hurt? Hey, hey, look at me, are you hurt?" He demanded, fearful that the chains might shoot out again to finish the job to swallow you in the dark. He checked for any physical injury, but the tension was too great to ignore; the mouth of the tomb glaring at you, forcing Elrond to silence himself.

You flinched back into his hold when the gruesome sounds of crunching bone and squelching flesh was heard; indicating whatever was inside, whatever claimed Daenor, had disposed of his living body.

Elrond took advantage of your flinch to rock you back onto your feet, standing as a group as a voice hissed, "Cold old be hand and heart and bone, And cold be sleep under stone, Never more to wake on stony bed, Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead." Galadriel brandished her sword as the wights first emerged, revealing their zombified forms. You encouraged the group to form together in a circle as the demons emerged. The Voice continued, "In the black wind, the stars shall die."

"Prepare yourselves," Galadriel warned, the group arming themselves.

"What are they?" Rían trembled.

From perfectly between Galadriel and Elrond, you answered, "They are those who laid in the tombs, the Lords and Kings of old... Lore calls them Barrow-wights."

The creatures surrounded your company, leering, growling, sizing you up. In Sindarin, Elrond commanded, "Attack!"

In tandem, the group lunged; weapons striking the ghoulish foes but they merely disintegrated in air... Then reformed. It seemed that fighting only served to irritate the enemies, their collective hissing and screeching making stomachs curl and skin to prickle in fear. Galadriel clocked this first, warning Rían, "Still your arrow!"

But the Elleth was already locked and loaded, the string slipping from her grip to fire at a distant wight. But it only soared through the zombie's face, not stopping, directing towards Camnir - but Elrond intercepted, swiping his sword to cut its path and save his soldier. The creature rejuvenated.

"They're impervious to our weapons," Camnir voiced, fear inking his tone.

Elrond's eyes found yours, seemingly connected by a string of similar thought; remembering the old wives tales you once read a lifetime ago, ancient lore about Barrow-wights dating back to the time of Melkor. So, he sheathed his sword and told his soldiers, "Hold fast." To Camnir, the closest to him, he demanded, "Come with me!"

"Where are you going?"

"Help me open it," Elrond told him, trying to pry open the sealed tomb as you swiped at another wight's skeletal hand reaching for you.

"What?"

"Hurry!" Elrond barked in Sandarin.

Back in your group, Rían muttered nervously, "Commander?"

"Ease yourself, remain calm..."

"What do we do?"

"Make no sudden movements. Stay together, fend them off but don't engage a fight," you advised, "hold strong - "

A gasp cut off your words when chains coiled around your ankle; securing in a tight zip that knocked you off balance and back into the toxic dirt. You scrambled for purchase on anything, finding only wet leaves; and suddenly, the chain turned taunt with tension before you were being sucked back into another tomb.

"Commander!" Vorohil shouted, trying to reach for you, but just missing as you were reeled back over the dirt.

"Y/N!" Rían cried, alerting Elrond and Camnir of your situation. You whimpered in fear, sobbing as you couldn't fight the force; couldn't save yourself; only able to helplessly submit to your approaching doom after clawing unsuccessfully for salvation.

"No! No!" You yelped, trying to remove the chains, but another tightened around the first chain in a horribly tight, vice grip that strangled breath from your lungs from the pure burning sting. With the last of your air, you screamed, "Elrond! Please!"

You heard Vorohil sprinting after you, freezing in your escape attempt when a grisly, decayed hand extended from the ebony shadow of the tomb towards you. There was a panicked finality to your blood, fear clogging rational thought; never seeing Elrond, only focused on the threat pulling you in. But the half-Elf you meant to marry in only a few weeks time came surging onto the scene, sliding on his knees at the mouth of the tomb and swinging a sword to sever both hand and chains.

"Y/N - "

"Fuck's sake!" You snarled, unintentionally cutting Elrond off; shoving the chains from your leg, scrambling to your feet.

You were just about to thank Elrond when he instead encouraged, "Here, take this." He held out one of the ancient weapons excavated from the tomb, nodding with increased vigor before turning away when it was in your grip. You hacked and stabbed the wight that came after you, Elrond and Camnir tossing the rest of the company weapons to cast down the surrounding enemies.

"How?" Rían asked in shock, seeing the wisps of the last wights waft into the wind.

"According to lore, only the blades with which they were buried with will return such creatures to rest," Elrond explained.

"But the men buried here have been entombed for over a thousand years," Camnir trembled, turning to his companion.

Vorohil seethed, "I think it is safe to say that something has awoken them."

"No," Galadriel argued, glaring down at the wight's decaying body. "Someone... Awakening evil. Across all Middle-earth."

You ignored the conversation and slowly took a seat; leaving your weapon in the dirt while focusing on hiking up your trouser leg after discarding your boot. With a clenched jaw, you revealed the wight's chains left sizzling lacerations; the metal seemingly enchanted to burn damn near to the bone, creating craters, indentations, dimples to your otherwise pure and unblemished flesh.

You winced when fabric stuck to the wound, bearing your teeth while hissing through them; breathing turning staggered as the pain became biting. "Commander?" You heard Camnir question softly with concern, others turning to set their attention on you.

"It's nothing," you insisted, observing the wound and deciding a tourniquet was required.

"You're hurt," Elrond growled, surging forward and unintentionally knocking Galadriel's shoulder - but the Elleth didn't take offense. The others wanted to close in around you, but Galadriel held them back after witnessing you before. As Commander of the Southern Armies, you had seen many battles with Galadriel, and sometimes, you sustained injury; she's witnessed how you turned akin to a panicked animal when accosted with attention - no matter how genuine the concern.

"It's nothing," you repeated, reaching for one of your belts, "I'm fine."

"You're not - "

"It's a burn, Elrond, nothing more," you sniffled, feeling how far up the chain had gone; deciding to tie the tourniquet above your knee.

"Let me," Elrond whispered, laying his hands over yours that shook and trembled without abandon.

"Elrond - "

"Just," he snipped, needing to pause and take a breath, "please, let me help you."

Behind him, Galadriel ushered the others away to a short distance; deciding to gather whatever belongings of Daenor they could to honor his lost life. You met Elrond's worried gaze and nodded, sniffling, "Okay. J-Just above the knee, here," you showed him.

"I know, love, I've got yah," he breathed, shuffling closer and kneeling beside you while taking the belt. You pulled the material of your trousers straight, grimacing when Elrond first wrapped the leather around your thigh. "All right?" He checked, seeing you nod rapidly; no words used because you were holding your breath to prevent yourself from crying out. When Elrond first tied the leather, you whimpered and his eyes turned teary. "It's gonna get worse, love, just hang on f'me - " He warned you before suddenly tightening the tourniquet, making you yelp painfully. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it hurts, I know, I know, I'm so sorry," he repeated, your hands latching onto his forearms out of subconscious need to feel him for comfort while he secured the leather belt. When done, he reached for your cheeks and pet hair that escaped your braids behind your ears, encouraging, "Breathe for me, just breathe, love. You're all right, there you go. Breathe. Good, good, I've got you, I'm so sorry, just breathe, just breathe... Oh, I, uh..."

"What's wrong?" You worried when he trailed off; eyes full of tears and his mouth half opening while retracting his hands that you held by his wrists still.

"I've blood on my hands..." He splayed them in display between you two.

"It's okay - "

"Got it on your face," he frowned.

"It's fine," you insisted, sniffling sadly, "it's my blood, anyway. We should be moving - "

"You're hurt."

"I know, but it's not life threatening, I don't need coddled."

"I'm not coddling you - "

"You are," you half smirked, "because you're worried."

"Of course, I am," he scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe your cheeks and temples free of blood. "How can I not be? You..." His voice quaked with emotion, "You are my starlight, my fairest friend, my sweetest love. Seeing you hurt..."

"I know," you whispered, bringing him close so your foreheads met, "but I'm okay."

"For now."

You sighed, pulling back to respond, "Don't say that, don't even think it. Optimism is our only friend in this situation, else, what is the point of going after Sauron?"

He needed to take a breath, sniffling his own emotion. "Fine. We should rest until morning... Regroup, give you time off this leg for now."

You nodded, "You sure?"

"I think we could all use the reprieve," he admitted.

"Does that include you?" You asked while caressing the coils of chestnut off his forehead.

"I'm fine - "

"As I am?"

Elrond paused, then scoffed a small laugh and nodded. "I'm managing..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Hey," you whispered, bringing him back to your forehead, "you're doing an excellent job of leading this company. But we all have limits and tonight was a lot, you deserve the time to breathe."

"Time is something we don't have."

"We have enough for now," you insisted, more or less forcing Elrond to relent.

As Daenor's belongings were pulled from the tomb and buried in the scorched earth his killers had rose from, the company each offered you hollowed words of condolences for your loss. Beside Elrond, it was known, you and your brother-in-law were great friends - being the reason he met and eventually married your sister. His sword was embedded in the ground as a marker, the company gathered to silently pay their respects while their commander stood at the riverbed's edge in deep, solemn contemplation.

You held one of his daggers, intending to keep it in reminder; pocketing a few pieces of jewelry, intending to give it to his wife. However, all was interrupted when from a distance, you heard the booming rumble of drums. Not just any drums, but the beating sounds of a marching procession; something ominous and daunting. You perked up, standing to your feet as something dark and familiar started in your chest before sinking to your gut. By looks of your company, they, too, heard the drums and shared your worried thoughts; sheathing Daenor's dagger to your belt and surging for where Elrond stood speaking to Galadriel.

"Forgive my intrusion," you bid the pair, Elrond turning instantly.

"Are you all right?" His hand reached for your hip instantly, trying to help stabilize you - if you had been off balance.

Your hand laid to his cheek, answering swiftly, "I'm fine," before dropping your hand to rest on his bicep, "but we've heard drums - in the deep. Sounds like there's a host on the march."

This sent the company into action, tracking the sound of the enemy over leagues of wooded area. By the end of the day, at dusk, you all gathered slowly on a darkened clifftop; watching in horror as legions of orcs marched down the beaten path to the sounds of their war drums. "Orc treachery," Rían cursed upon sight.

"That trail...?" Elrond questioned, letting go of his secure hold on you to lower in a squat, "I gather it leads to - "

"Eregion, my liege," Camnir confirmed.

"We came in search of Sauron," Vorohil narrated everyone's thought and question, "And instead, we find Adar?"

"Could they be in league with each other or... Perhaps at war," Elrond thought aloud, you shifting on your bad leg for a moment to readjust your stance among the trees.

"A legion of Orcs have marched into Elvish lands," Galadriel spat in anger, glaring at Elrond. "We are all of us at war."

Elrond agreed, "Word of this must reach the High King before our host sails for Mordor."

The silence was calm in a resolute sort of way, everyone just pausing to bask in their shock and awe. This was shattered when a distant Orc shouted, "There!" An arrow thunked into the trunk of the tree behind you, a horse neighing shrilly as it galloped through the forrest towards freedom and away from its pursuers. Just as the company turned to face the enemy, another arrow flew through the air almost inconspicuously, finding its mark in the soft part of your chest just beneath your sternum.

You grunted when the arrow landed, taking half a step back and wanting to cry out. Instead, you just held where the arrow embedded itself in your flesh. You felt dizzy suddenly, clothes and hand saturating with blood as the arrow had pierced through the aorta artery to cause major damage. Irreparable damage. Fatal damage...

In a whisper, Elrond told his soldiers in Sindarin, "Hold!"

In the distance, the Orcs were heard complaining about the horse escaping while a few random arrows were fired off again in a last ditch effort to wound the animal. If you did not move, the mangey creatures did not notice, smell, or sense you. But you couldn't form a full coherent thought, just understanding your injury, the looming grace of Death soon to kiss you, that breath was becoming increasingly harder to come by, and the pain - the pain was aching, soon spiking.

You did not mean to, but your fear was too great to ignore, and you stuttered in a whimpered gasp, "El-Elrond?"

His head snapped over, seeing the arrow protruding from your chest and feeling himself crumble inside. You were choking on blood, trying to remain silent - and they all saw that effort. How blood came splattering from your nose as you tried to subdue your noise, but that only made it harder to breathe; inadvertently choking, a groan strangled from your lungs just as Elrond reached you. He held you to him with his chest and single arm anchoring your waist, the other lifting to lay his hand over your mouth as Galadriel glued to your other side for added support.

The company moved back several yards, covering ground swiftly before laying you down behind a natural outcropping of protective rock. You were struggling, unable to fight it any longer; hacking a cough, blood spewing, splattering, streaking down your neck, the pain insurmountable. Elrond's one hand cushioned under your head, tears in his eyes as he could only hold you as the Orcs were heard closing in, other hand once more clasping over your mouth.

Still, Galadriel was sandwiching you, wincing when Elrond's hand stifled your groans of pain as he strained himself to peak over the top of the rocks. When he lowered himself, your lover leaned his forehead on your temple and hushed in your ear, "I'm so sorry." Upon lifting, he met Galadriel's eyes, who had been examining your wound, only to find her's full of sadness. Her head shook with muted words - telling him whatever she saw wasn't good.

You whimpered lightly. The Orcs could smell an Elf.

You wrangled Elrond's hand from your mouth, "Lis-Listen to me - "

"Hush, do not - "

"Shut up and listen!" You hissed, keeping hold of his hand, "'M not makin' it outta this, love, you've gotta go. L-Leave me - "

"No!"

"Elrond. Leave me," you insisted, "and they'll k-know 's m-me they smell. Y-You have t'warn the H-High King."

"I'm not leaving you," Elrond grit.

You smiled sadly, "And I love y-you for that. B-But you h-have t-t-to."

"Not in this lifetime," he begged, a few tears falling. "Just give me time to think, I'll figure something out."

"Time... Is something we don't have," you repeated his words from earlier. Suddenly, Galadriel just knew something without words; a feeling; a sort of understanding that she could help in this moment. She heard you whisper, "I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. W-We should've had so much more time - "

"Please, don't say that," Elrond begged quietly.

Galadriel took a sobering breath and moved her hands to the base of the arrow; pressing enough to make you wince and breath in sharply. Elrond went to tell her to back off, but paused when The Ring of Power she wore twinkled in the dark night - seemingly pulling you out of that fatal twilight. Your breathing turned slow... Eyes clearing of hazy pain... Life breathing back into your flesh...

The arrow fell out, making all three of you gasp. Galadriel's hands fell away as your own shot to where your wound had been - finding it healed between the fabric the arrow tore. You looked at the Elleth in shock, breathing, "You healed me...?"

She just nodded, Vorohil speaking in astonished Sindarin, "Amazing."

"You're - You're, you are - ?" Elrond stuttered in shock.

"I'm okay," you confirmed, caressing his cheek as he beamed down at you in pure glee. "I'm okay, love, I'm okay; Galadriel, she healed me," you sniffled, looking to your friend. "Thank you, my friend."

"Of course," she breathed, the Orcs heard shouting in the distance to overturn every rock. With a look of shared understanding, Galadriel told Elrond over your body while you tried to mop up some blood, "Get to Lindon. I will occupy them as long as I am able. Get her up."

Elrond huffed through his nose, but did as bid - not like he needed to even be told in the first place. He gathered you into himself and stood, making sure you were stable before looking back at Galadriel; slowly squatting again as she wriggled the ring from her finger. "Take it," she breathed, presenting Elrond with the band of jewelry. When he made no move, she snatched his hand and folded the ring into his grasp, "Take it, Elrond!"

"What will you do?" He asked begrudgingly, storing the ring in a leather pouch for safety.

"Something foolish, probably," she smirked, nodding in meaning. "Now, go. Go!"

"Elrond, love," you whispered, holding your hand out for his and heaving him to his feet. "With me, c'mon, quickly," you advised the others, beginning the trek down a new path in the woods. As you moved, you realized that Galadriel's ring hadn't just healed the arrow wound, but the Barrow-wight's chain, as well, which helps remedy your limp.

A semi-safe distance away, there came a decently loud and abrupt boom behind you, and upon looking, saw the trees up in flames. It was where Galadriel must've been battling the Orcs alone.

In earnest impression, Camnir narrated, "She scarified herself to save us all."

Elrond came to a halt when he realized his company members were captivated by the sight of heroics in action. So he interrupted their dreamy thoughts by calling, "No, you are mistaken, Camnir." He stalked forward through his delegates, telling them in their native tongue, "She did not do it to save us."

Tension simmered over each member.

"What?" Camnir questioned.

Elrond turned away from the spectacle with Galadriel's fire, consulting the dark again, speaking with ramped distain in Sandarin, "She did it to save the ring." His hand reached for yours again, the two of you leading the company forward with him calling over his shoulder in the Common Tongue, "Hurry!"

requesting rules and masterlist

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[beegomess]

Your Honeymoon || Slytherin Boys

Summary: A kind of Headcanon continuation of what your wedding would be like. Warnings: fluffy and slightly spicy.

Open orders!

Blaise Zabini Southern Italy

The honeymoon with Blaise looked like it was out of a movie, wrapped in a stunning setting in southern Italy. The isolated village, hidden between green hills and vineyards, exuded a timeless elegance, where the old and the modern met. The sky was starting to turn orange and gold when you arrived, and Blaise, with that enigmatic smile he always carried, took your hand and guided you to the interior of the village.

The days were calm, but loaded with a palpable tension. Blaise, with his aristocratic manners, was always impeccable and controlled, but there was a spark in the air, a growing desire that he let shine through in the deep looks he threw at you. On one of the afternoons, after a walk through the vineyards, the sun was already setting, he pulled her against him, involving her with a controlled force. His touch, initially soft, became firmer, and soon his lips were on his neck, causing goosebumps that ran through his entire body.

That night, the village seemed too small to contain the intensity of what you felt. Dinner was forgotten when Blaise lifted her from the chair and took her to the master bedroom, her fluid and precise movements as always. "You drive me crazy, you know?" He murmured, his voice deep and low, while his fingers ran over his skin with a touch that oscillated between the gentle and the possessive. The night unfolded with a silent intensity, where every touch, every kiss, carried the passion that had been growing since the moment you arrived

The following days became a dance of emotions. Every dawn, you explored the charms of the village, from the ancient stone alleys to the small trattorias that exhaled the aroma of the best of Italian cuisine. Conversations flowed naturally, between laughter and complicit glances, while the nights turned into moments of pure surrender. In each gentle breeze that blew from the sea, you felt that you were falling even more in love with Blaise, as if the two were in tune to a melody that only you could hear.

However, there was also a mystery involving Blaise that you couldn't ignore. Sometimes, he lost himself in deep thoughts, as if he were fighting against something inner. You wanted to understand, you wanted to unravel what was hidden behind that undisturbed facade. And while the passion involved them, a question began to form in his mind: what was the true self behind that enigmatic smile?

Thus, as the last day of honeymoon approached, the intensity of passion and uncertainty intertwined, creating a vibrant picture of emotions. At the end of that magical experience, you realized that it was not just a fleeting moment, but the beginning of a deep and transformative journey. And when you looked into Blaise's eyes, you felt that you were about to discover not only love, but also the secrets that would shape the future of you two. This honeymoon was not just an isolated chapter in their lives, but the promise of an even richer and more intriguing plot to come.

Draco Malfoy Venice, Italy

His honeymoon with Draco was a dream of elegance and luxury, perfectly set in the romantic city of Venice, Italy. The palace he had reserved was on the banks of a quiet canal, its ancient walls adorned by tapestries and works of art that exuded a subtle but undeniable richness. From the moment you arrived, Venice seemed to conspire in your favor, with its narrow streets and secret canals that created a perfect environment for passion and mystery.

Draco was more relaxed than you had ever seen him, but there was still that spark of intensity in his gray eyes. At night, after a gondola ride under the stars, he pulled her to the private terrace of the palace, where the city lights reflected gently in the waters below. He held his hand, his firm and warm touch, and, with a malicious smile on his lips, approached, his eyes shining with something deeper than simple desire.

"I've been waiting for this so long," Draco whispered as his hand slid down her waist, bringing her closer. The kiss was slow and deep, full of promises. When they finally entered the luxurious room, the grandeur of the space seemed to disappear, leaving only the intimacy between you. Draco's touch was a perfect mix of control and passion, his movements calculated to ensure you felt every detail. He liked to take his time, exploring every inch of his skin with an attention that made him almost reverent, but there were times when passion took over, and he pulled it to himself with a fierce intensity, as if he wanted to record every sensation deep in his memory.

The canopy bed, adorned with rich fabrics, became the stage for an unforgettable night. Draco, with his usual precision, took her to the limit several times, prolonging the moment until both were lost in each other. Every sigh, every touch seemed to vibrate in the air of the ancient city, and Venice, with its atmosphere of romance and mystery, became the perfect setting for the intensity of the passion you shared. At the end of the night, he held her firmly against himself, the heat of their bodies contrasting with the cool breeze that came in through the open windows, whispering promises of a future equally full of desire and devotion.

And so, as the last nights in Venice unfolded, you realized that the true essence of that honeymoon was in Draco's intriguing duality. On the one hand, he was the burning lover, capable of awakening in you a deep and overwhelming desire; on the other, the mysterious man, wrapped in secrets that made every moment even more fascinating. When leaving the city of canals, the certainty that there was much more to discover about him and about the love they were building made his heart race.

Lorenzo Berkshire Provence, France

Lorenzo was always the kind of man who valued beauty in everything, and his honeymoon in Provence was no exception. Surrounded by lavender fields and the intoxicating aroma of flowers dancing in the wind, the romance between you seemed more alive than ever. Lorenzo was delicate and attentive, but you knew that behind that gentle smile there was a flame ready to be lit.

One afternoon, as the sun began to set on the fields, he pulled her to himself during a walk, her lips meeting hers with a controlled passion. His touch, initially gentle, soon turned into something more urgent, and before you knew it, he was guiding her to the interior of the village. "I need you now," he murmured against his skin, his hot breath sending goosebumps through his body.

That night, the white sheets on the bed were the stage for a dance that, even if you were used to it, always looked new. Lorenzo adored her with meticulous care, his hands exploring every inch of her body, as if he wanted to memorize every detail. And when the two finally united, it was as if the world outside disappeared, leaving only the warmth of the bodies and the rhythmic rhythm of a night that seemed endless. Lorenzo, always careful and passionate, made sure that every moment was recorded in his memory.

And so, as the honeymoon in Provence came to an end, you realized that the true beauty of that experience was not only in the stunning landscapes, but in the deep and affectionate love that Lorenzo showed at every moment. In the midst of the lavender fields and the soft light of sunset, he became not only your lover, but also your safe haven, always attentive to your needs and desires.

When you left Provence, the future was drawn before you as a field of flowers in full bloom, vibrant and full of promises. Did you know that, next to Lorenzo, every day would be a new adventure, full of love and beauty.

Mattheo Riddle Scotland, High Mountains

Mattheo has always had an indomitable spirit, and his honeymoon in the Scottish High Mountains reflected this. The isolated cabin he chose seemed simple on the outside, but inside, every detail reflected the burning desire that existed between you. From the moment you arrived, the tension between you grew with every look, with every casual touch.

On the first night, after a simple candlelight dinner, Mattheo pulled her close, his dark eyes fixed on his own. "I love you," he murmured, before kissing you with a hunger that made his whole body respond. He lifted her in his arms and took her to the room, his hands already exploring her skin with a mixture of urgency and worship. The heat of the fireplace was overshadowed by the heat that emanated from their bodies while Mattheo, always somewhat wild, gave himself completely to the moment.

The following nights continued to be a parade of electrifying moments and deep tenderness, but there was a subtlety in their conversations that intrigued her. He spoke with a sparkle in his eyes about legacies and inheritances, as if he were already daydreaming about a life together, full of laughter and discoveries. And, in each touch, you felt that Mattheo not only wanted her, but that he also wanted to build something lasting, maybe even a family.

So, at the end of that magical honeymoon, as they prepared to leave the mountains, you looked at Mattheo and saw not only the man in love next to him, but a potential father in love.

Theodore Nott Santorini, Greece

The honeymoon with Theo was an explosion of romance and desire, wrapped in the stunning scenery of the white houses and the deep blue sea. Theodore, always observant and reserved, showed how much he was enchanted by you through small gestures, subtle touches and looks that spoke more than any word.

On the first night, lying on a lounger on the balcony under the starry sky, he pulled you to himself, his fingers sliding gently down your waist while his lips met yours in a deep kiss. "I can't take my eyes off you," he murmured against your skin, the intensity of his gaze burning you inside.

When you took courage to go to bed, Theodore made sure that the night was slow and engaging, his hands exploring his body as if it were the first time. His touch was both gentle and possessive, and when he finally surrendered to the moment, the passion he had held throughout the day manifested itself in a night of pure desire.

As the honeymoon approached the end, you decided it was time to break through the uncertainty that hung between you. When looking into Theo's eyes, he felt such a deep connection that it gave him courage to ask about what worried him. The answer, although wrapped in a slight mystery, brought a feeling of intimacy, as if they were finally starting to share the secrets that shaped their lives. And even with the shadows that could still exist, there was a vibrant feeling that together they could face any challenge.

The future seemed like an unknown ground, but the happiness that radiated between you illuminated this path. It was a delicious mixture of expectation and nervousness, as if each day was a new page in a story that was just beginning. Life next to Theo could be full of adventures, challenges and moments of intense joy. And as the sun set on the horizon, you knew that every step forward, with all its uncertainties, would be worth it, because the promise of a deep and true love was the greatest mystery of all.

Tom Riddle Castle in Eastern Europe

The honeymoon with Tom was anything but conventional, exactly as you imagined. He chose an isolated castle in Eastern Europe, its ancient towers and stone walls hidden between hills covered by dense forests. The air around the castle was mysterious, almost dark, perfectly reflecting Tom's enigmatic spirit. From the moment you arrived, the environment seemed to intensify every look and every touch you exchanged.

On the first night, the castle was illuminated only by torches and candles, creating dancing shadows on the stone walls. Tom, always a strategist, watched her with those penetrating eyes, as if he was planning her every move. He approached slowly, the air between you loaded with an almost palpable tension. When he finally approached, the touch was both firm and gentle, a promise of what was to come. "You have no idea what this means to me", he murmured, his voice low sending goosebumps through his body for the sincerity and presence of emotion and feeling, something restricted to you.

The castle's master bedroom was vast and imposing, with a canopy bed surrounded by dark curtains. Tom laid her on the bed with a calculated precision, her eyes never leaving hers. He was intense, every movement his measure, but full of a contained passion that finally freed himself. His hands explored your skin with a mixture of worship and possession, and you felt the tension increase with each touch.

Tom was controlling, but there were also times when he allowed you to take command, creating a balance of power and desire that left both completely immersed in each other. In that ancient castle, surrounded by secrets from past eras, the world seemed distant, leaving only you two and the electricity of your bodies intertwined. Tom insisted that every moment was marked by the intensity of his presence, and every touch, every sigh, seemed to record on the cold stone of the castle the burning desire they shared.

As the days passed in the castle, the atmosphere full of secrets and the intensity of the love between you and Tom made everything even more vivid. As the honeymoon approached the end, a new consciousness settled: the beauty of that connection was intrinsically linked to its complexity. You had created a bond that danced on the fine line between passion and mystery, and you knew that, when you left that place, you would take with you not only memories, but also the promise of a future full of challenges.

When you looked at Tom, you felt that the love they shared was like the walls of the castle - strong, but not without its cracks. There was a feeling that what was to come could bring shadows, but paradoxically, this only made the idea of the future more exciting. The uncertainty about what awaited them was not a reason for fear, but for expectation. You knew that, together, you could face any darkness, and the happiness they found in the shadows of the castle would be the light that would guide them.

___________________________

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xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[imthebadguyyy]

Coming Back Home To You

pairing : steve rogers x reader

fandom : marvel/avengers

synopsis : after a new threat wreak havoc on the team, steve suggests a safehouse with a surprise awaiting them inside.

a/n : inspired majorly by clints house!!

warnings : mentions of mind control and injuries etc. typical marvel stuff

the quinjet is completely silent, apart from the quiet hum of the engine. the entire team is still, dark shapes in the dimly lit cabin, everyone in varying levels of disarray.

natasha sits completely still, eyes staring unseeingly at the large console while a worried bruce sits beside her, combing her short red locks behind her ears. thor sits across from them, hand trembling slightly as it gripped mjolnir, mouth pressed in a thin line.

clint sits on the other end of the space, eyes squeezed shut as his wife spoke softly from the phone, reassuring him the 4 of them were all okay. tony sits a little away from him, his hands gripping his phone, staring at the picture of pepper and him peeking out at him.

wanda sits next to steve, her eyes wet with unshed tears, glimmering in the fading sunshine. steve casts worried glances in her direction from time to time, as he commanders the jet, the coordinates set in as he informs maria about where they're going. bucky sits on the other side, quiet, but not as badly affected as the rest. he had stayed on the jet for the majority of the time.

"i think we need a small break. some time to reset. whatever these things are, we need a break okay?" he says, voice firm. his team is down and he needs to look after them.

"where are you going to take them?" maria hill's voice fills the empty space. "a safehouse. fury knows where" is his cryptic response and she furrows a brow, but decides if fury knows, it's safe enough.

"okay. keep me posted" she replies, and logs off. steve takes a deep breath and wonders how it all went so wrong. one minute they were taking down the hydra base, and the second, they had all been blasted black, minds trapped in a simulation of them carrying out their deepest fears.

even wanda had been caught off guard, and before they knew it, bucky had brought the jet closer and steve was struggling off the ground to get the others back into the jet, back to safety.

they had all remained entrapped, until one by one it broke and they all snapped out gasping and shaking.

the sky is fading, a soft orange shade similar to ripe peaches, streaks of golden sunshine peeking out occasionally, as they sped away from the city, white clouds becoming more and more prominent as they reached the countryside.

after what felt like hours, steve landed the jet in what seemed like an isolated farmland, acres of green land and small dairy farms in smatterings across the area.

"where are we?" thor asked, helping wanda get to her feet. "yeah cap, are you sure this place is safe? it seems deserted" tony said, hiding the slight quiver in his knees.

"it's safe" he confirmed, helping bruce get natasha to her feet. "just have to walk for 5 minutes to the left" he continued, leading the way.

the team followed silently behind, trudging like a pack of kicked puppies, exhaustion laced on every line on all their faces.

"how do you know this place is safe?" clint asked, striding up to catch up with steve. "you'll see" he responded, smiling softly when a large house came into view.

"oh.." clint said, eyes brightening as he looked to steve for confirmation. he gave him a small smile in response.

a beautiful rustic, wooden house stood surrounded by what seemed like never ending green farmland. a beautiful wooden shed stood beside the house, and pretty flower pots and trees trailed around the house.

a beautiful patio was at the back of the house, with a small outdoor fire place and covered in fairy lights and small light bulbs, with a small table and couches.

it seemed to scream homely and comforting,and seemed to exude an aura of warmth. clint took in the place with a smile, noting the swing set and slide in the yard, and assorted collection of children's toys in the backyard.

"what is this place?" wanda muttered groggily, holding onto thor for support. "you'll see, but please wipe your feet on the mat" he said, gently pushing the front door of the house open.

what greeted them was the scent of vanilla and musk, oakwood and patchouli, and the subtle whiff of pinecones. the hallway was bright and sunny, pretty paintings and photos decorating the walls. there were small figurines made of ceramic, that looked hand painted.

as steve turned the corner, natasha noted the way he kept glancing up the long staircase, eyes glimmering with what looked like endless adoration.

"sweetheart?" he called softly, taking off his shield and setting it down on a shoe rack, that looked like it was made for his shield.

he neared the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon filled the air, and thors tummy rumbled loudly.

"steve?" came a honeyed voice, and the team was able to put a face to the voice when a gorgeous woman made her way out from behind the stove. she had eyes that sparkled softly, crinkled in a bright smile as she looked at their captain. she had an elegance to her, an aura of gentility and kindness that seemed to radiata in the brightness of her smile.

she was clad in a soft summer sundress dress, a pretty white dress that was covered in blue flowers, flowing just below her knees. they watched her eyes widen in joy, and rush towards steve, who pulled her into his arms, head burying into her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her plush waist, pressing soft kisses to her shoulders, before pulling away and pressing his lips to her own, a deep, passionate kiss that took his breath away.

"hi sweetheart" he murmured against her lips before drawing back, suddenly hyper-aware of his team. "you're home!" the woman exclaimed again a soft laugh leaving her lips. "yes I am, and i have a few guests darling, i hope that's alright?" he asked, gently cradling her head in his palm

"uh sure! hi!" you said, waving kindly to the disheveled team. bruce smiled at you, confusion still present in his eyes, while thor and wanda gave you warm smiles. natasha looked at you giving you a once over, before flashing you a weak smile. she decided she liked your kind eyes.

"y/n!" bucky exclaimed, rushing forward to pull you into a tight hug. you laughed, squeezing him, before pulling back to assess him. "hi buck! how are you?"

the super soldier grinned at you, eyes flashing with an odd expression as he shook his head sadly. "I'm okay"

"care to introduce the rest of us?" tony chimed in awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"guys, meet my wife, y/n l/n rogers." steve said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in close to him.

"i know all your names" you confessed, playing with the string of your dress nervously as they all said hello softly.

"how long have you been married?" bruce asked, slowly warming up to his captains wife.

"about five years. fury helped me set this up like he helped clint. didn't want her getting involved in the dangers of being married to an avenger. thats why I don't wear my ring around everyone" he said, answering the questions on everyones lips.

"it's nice to meet you" wanda said shyly, and you gave her an encouraging smile.

"why don't you guys go and get changed and bathed? there's three bathrooms in here and a wash room in the shed in case you don't want to wait" you said , going towards the oven to turn it off. "I have some fresh cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and i can have a cold jug of lemonade ready for you by the time you're done getting changed" you said, leaning down to make sure everything was done baking.

"where are my two troublemakers?" steve asked quietly, not wanting to spoil the biggest surprise of all. you smiled, pointing towards the staircase. "let me call them for you-" before you could finish, the thundering of footsteps became audible and you shared an amused glance with bucky.

"daddy!" two gleeful voices filled the air and two blue eyed, pigtailed figures came running into the kitchen, clad in denim dungarees and white shirts.

"hi my loves!" steve said, scooping both his daughters into his arms, laughing when they squealed and kissed his cheeks.

"we missed you!" the girl on the left said, burrowing into her dad. "so much!" the girl on the right completed, squishing his cheeks.

"guys, meet sarah marie rogers and stella jamie rogers" steve smiled proudly, to an awe struck group of avengers who had their jaws on the floor.

"you have children?!?!" natasha said, mouth agape as she stared at the twins in steve's arms. "actual puny little humans?" thor said, eyes as wide as saucers.

clint just laughed, waving to the little girls. stella buried her face in her dad's neck, clearly the more reserved of the two, while sarah waved brightly back at him.

"uncle bucky!" sarah exclaimed, reaching for the man who took her with a laugh, spinning her around. "hello little angel! I've missed you!" he laughed, ruffling her hair softly.

you watched your daughter's reuniting with their father, a soft smile on your face. how you had missed him!

"well, I guess captain america's got more than just his shield to protect now! who knew old cap could multitask? i wonder if he still gives the 'I can do this all day' speech during diaper changes." tony chimed in, smirking at steve.

you laughed at the comment, shaking his hand warmly. "yeah he does sometimes" you smirked, earning a look of betrayal from your husband while wanda and clint laughed.

"woah you're black widow!" sarah said, looking wide eyed at natasha. "you're my favourite avenger!" she exclaimed, earning a chuckle from the assassin, who raised her hand up for a high five.

"whose your favourite?" clint asked stella, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

stella mumbled something softly, still holding on to her daddy. "tell him sweetie, thats hawkeye, remember i told you about him?" steve urged gently, softly pushing his daughter's long locks away from her eyes.

"my favourite is thor" she mumbled, eyes widening as she took in the asgardian. steve watched as the god visibly melted, a bright smile on his face as he strode over to the little girl.

"it appears that i am the mightiest avenger in the eyes of the smallest mortal! dear child k if you require any tips on wielding a tiny hammer or battling bedtime monsters, you know who to call. i humbly acclaim myself your immortal servant" he said seriously, holding out his large hand for a handshake.

stella just turned away, shy and flustered at the hulking avenger before saying a soft "okay" earning a laugh from bucky.

"she's just a kid thor" bruce said, looking up from the paintings around the room. "did you guys paint these?" he asked, looking in awe of the paintings. "daddy did some and we did some" sarah responded, still happily snuggled in her uncle's arms.

"wow" wanda said, examining one of a field of tulips. "which one of you painted this?" she asked, looking over at you. "me" a shy voice responded as stella spoke up. "oh you're so talented!" wanda said, voice still soft. she related to this quiet child, and felt an immediate connect with her.

"t-thank you" she said, offering her a sugar sweet smile. "do you want to see my other paintings and crafts?" she asked, slowly clambering off her dad's lap, and walking carefully over to the sokovian.

"I'd love that!" she said, leaning her hands towards the little girl, who took her hand in her own.

"uncle bucky, do you want to help me build my trampoline?" sarah asked, arms looped around his neck. "sure sweetheart, we can do that".

"darling, let's let them all get comfortable first okay?" you interrupted, smiling when your younger twin (sarah) came bounding over to you for a hug.

"okay mama, I'm gonna go and show stella and auntie wanda some of my drawings too!" she said and she was shooting off like lightning again, but not before hugging her dad's knees and saying "i love you daddy!" again to steve.

as the team dispersed to the various bathrooms, steve led you up to your bedroom, closing the door behind you two.

"my sweet baby, I've missed you so much" he said, advancing towards you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging you close, forehead resting gently against yours.

"I've missed you more. are you okay? how come you're here?" you asked, brushing his sandy blonde locks away from his forehead.

his blue eyes clouded over and his grip on you tightened. "i thought i-" his voice broke and you immediately wrapped your arms around him, hearing him take a deep stuttering breath.

"there was this new hydra variant. some element of mind control. I saw you and the girls...lying here... cold and..." his voice broke and he pulled back, thumb grabbing your chin to yank you into a kiss.

he needed to feel you. to physically feel and make sure you were alive and right there with him.

"I'm right here steve, right here my darling. I'm okay, the girls are okay. and were all right here." you chanted like a mantra, stroking his hair.

he pulled you into a kiss again, messy, teeth and tongue clashing, hands roaming your waist, hips and finally resting in your hair and one hand on your waist.

"i love you" he murmured, eyes never leaving yours as he leaned back. "i love you more" you whispered back, slowly pushing him to sit down. "let's get you changed honey" you said, drawing a warm bath as you slipped into the bathroom.

steve took a deep breath.

it was all going to be okay.

he was finally home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : let me know if this should have more parts!! was thinking of one with multiple scenarios of them bonding together, explaining their names etc etc! let me know!! I'm always open to chat too xoxox

happy reading!! ♥️

TAGS

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

[yannawayne]

vi. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

NOTE: THIS IS PART 6. I POSTED 2 CHAPTERS TODAY! PART 5 IS HERE

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"No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday, 8:35 AM - Gotham Academy, Gotham City.

The halls of Gotham Academy buzzed with the usual chatter and laughter—a total disconnect from the storm of nerves brewing inside you. You zigzagged through the crowd, your trusty, battle-worn Converse scuffing against the linoleum. Damian’s varsity jacket hung over your uniform, the hood pulled low to hide the cuts on your face.

Morgan had ditched you at the entrance, probably off to plot some mad science in the labs. Not exactly your idea of fun, so you opted for aimless wandering instead.

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God.  And I'd get Him to swap our places.  Be runnin' up that road.  Be runnin' up that hill  Be runnin' up that building. 

Your headphones were snug, the music offering a temporary refuge as you walked, your head instinctively nodding to the beat. Even with the volume cranked up, you couldn’t shake the awareness of every shift in the crowd, the way the jacket rubbed against your sore muscles, or the stiffness in your back and arm from the muscle tear. Concerned whispers drifted past you, catching on the currents of passing conversations, but you kept moving, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm of the song.

When you reached Damian’s locker, you leaned against it, letting the cool metal soothe your aching back. You adjusted the hood of his jacket, tugging it further down to hide the cuts around your face. With your free hand, you quickly typed out a message to Damian, your fingers flying over the screen, each tap a small burst of nervous energy.

You:

"At your locker."

You hit send, slipped your phone back into your pocket, then immediately pulled it out again. This time, you opened Twitter, your thumb instinctively scrolling through your feed for any updates on the recent incident.

Tweets about the attack were already trending, paired with blurry photos and clickbait headlines. You cringed as fan accounts for #Nightcrawler started flooding in. It was wild how fast the public’s attention could flip from genuine concern to a full-blown obsession with the latest hero—or villain. 

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders building as you scrolled through the flood of posts.

“Beloved?”

A tanned hand brushed gently against your arm, followed by the sight of polished brown dress shoes stepping into view.

“Dami,” you murmured with a relieved smile, leaning into his hold, your head still bowed.

Damian instinctively pulled you into a hug, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. The embrace was firm but careful, as if he feared you might break under too much pressure. He could feel the stiffness in your muscles, your body wound tight with unspoken tension. His eyes narrowed with concern, but he stayed silent, letting the quiet speak for both of you.

His gaze flicked to your phone screen, catching sight of the trending tweets.

“Nightcrawler…” Damian murmured, and you lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes.

Sighing, you shifted so your cheek rested against his chest, the cool scent of his cologne grounding you. You kept scrolling, clicking on a particularly cringeworthy tweet and wincing at the fanatical comments.

“Can you believe these people?” you murmured, frustration seeping into your voice. “It’s insane.”

Sometimes you wondered how Damian and his brothers dealt with all the fanatics, the constant drooling over their hero personas—or even their civilian lives.

Damian’s grip tightened as he held you closer, his brow furrowing in disapproval as he read the tweets over your shoulder.

Repulsive. To him, it was a grotesque spectacle. The media had managed to paint the Spider into a celebrated hero, a figure of admiration, when in reality, the person behind that mask was nothing more than a monster, cloaked in deception and false heroism.

“They’re utterly obsessed,” Damian scoffed. “It’s as if they’ve completely forgotten there’s a real person behind that mask.”

“I know, right?” You sighed, closing Twitter and slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Like, I really don’t want to see those posts. They’re just—so much.”

Damian noticed your distress and instinctively started rubbing soothing circles on your back. But as his hand moved, a sharp muscle spasm seized your shoulder. You cursed, a wince escaping you as the sensation left you momentarily frozen. It felt as if someone had taken a wrench to your shoulder, yanking and twisting until every fiber protested in sharp, jarring bursts. 

Damian’s hand froze.

Muscle tear. He realized.

Without a word, he guided you gently into a nearby janitor’s closet. The door clicked shut behind you, cutting off the noise of the bustling hallway and granting you both some much-needed privacy. 

Inside, he carefully placed his hand on your elbow and began to stretch the affected muscle. You winced as a sharp twinge of pain flared, but Damian’s voice was soft and soothing.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple,  offering a small but comforting distraction from the pain.

Gradually, the pain eased, and you let out a sigh of relief. Your shoulders relaxed, the tight knots unwinding.

"I love you and your weird Robin skills," you said with a grateful smile, rolling your shoulders and feeling the tension dissipate.

Damian’s lips twitched into a faint, approving smile, though his voice remained gruff. “Love you too.”

He continued to watch you with a keen, sharp gaze, noticing the hood of your hoodie pulled up. His eyes traced the shadowy outline of your face, and he realized he hadn’t seen it clearly. His expression shifted to one of concern, a frown creasing his brow.

“Why haven’t you taken your hood down?” he asked quietly, his voice low and probing.

You pursed your lips, trying to edge toward the exit. But before you could make a clean getaway, Damian’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and yanking you back into him. You collided with his chest, and for a second, it felt like you’d just hugged a brick wall in a hoodie.

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“Uh, nowhere, apparently,” you sighed, realizing escape wasn’t in the cards today.

“Look. I just didn’t want to get my hair messed up,” you continued, trying to sound casual, but the words felt hollow in the small, enclosed space.

“Oh yeah…?” Damian murmured in disbelief, his voice thick with something darker. His eyes narrowed, and without warning, he bent down to your height, his rough fingers sliding up your jacket. You felt the fabric shift and the warmth of his hand against your side.

You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively bracing against his shoulders. Your nails dug into the fabric of his uniform as you tried to push him back.

“Pull the hood off,” he demanded, his hands working insistently to tug it up. You sputtered out protests, swatting at his hands, but Damian was relentless. “Habibti, let me see! Pull it up—let me see!”

Your grip on the hood tightened, your knuckles going white as you held on for dear life. But Damian’s concern bulldozed through any resistance you put up. He mumbled curses, and suddenly shifted tactics. Bending down, his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. He pinned you against the wall, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as your weight pressed into his hips.

"Damian, stop!" you groaned, trying to push him away.

But he ignored your plea, yanking the hood off. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the full extent of your injuries. Cuts and bandages marred your face, some fresh, others scabbing over. Dark bruises colored your cheek, spreading out like ominous clouds.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, even though he was already cursing a certain spider vigilante in his head. Damian dipped his head low, his dangerous glare cutting through you. “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll make them pay.”

“Baby, you’re being melodramatic. It’s just a few bruises,” you deflected, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll survive.”

“Plus, it’s not like you can just go around punching everyone who hurts me,” you huffed, wincing as you tried to pull your hood back up. Damian scowled and yanked it down again.

“Yes, I can.”

“Oh my god,” you said, raising an eyebrow and trying to stifle a smile. “I hate you so much.”

Damian tightened his hold, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Our relationship status says otherwise. And I’m not letting go until I get answers.”

You squirmed in his embrace, attempting to free yourself, but he held you tightly. “Seriously, let go.”

“No.”

“You’re going to miss your first period.”

“And?”

“Your education will be in ruins.”

“Beloved, my GPA is already at a 5.0. I’ve been at the top of my class since junior high. Missing one period won’t ruin my future.”

You groaned and grabbed the nearest object—a mop. Raising it in a mock-threatening manner, you declared, “I’m seriously considering hitting you with this until you let me go.”

Damian gave a flat “Tch,” raising a hand to the metal handle. With a casual squeeze, he bent the metal in half effortlessly. You blinked.

Okay, that's a little annoying, but also super, super, super hot.

“Seriously? You’re showing off now?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Showing off?” Damian arched an eyebrow. “I’m merely proving a point.”

“I can handle myself!” you insisted, frustration creeping into your voice.

“Clearly,” he shot back, eyes narrowing. “That’s why you’re covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped, your irritation bubbling over.

“I would be delighted to,” Damian replied, his tone dripping with syrupy sweetness that was equal parts enticing and infuriating.

"Ugh!" you groaned, pulling the hood back over your face in a futile attempt to hide.

“Drop the theatrics and tell me what happened,” he sighed, tugging the hood back down. “I need to know so I can handle it.”

“I already handled it! I just need some rest, okay?” you retorted, rubbing a hand over your tired eyes. "I can fight my own battles, thank you very much."

Damian’s jaw tightened at your response, setting off alarm bells in his head. He’d need to dig deeper—because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that you weren’t giving him the full story.

"You're not telling me everything," he said firmly. "But I’ll find out. I always do."

“Uh-huh, sure," you said, rolling your eyes as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform and yanked him closer. “You’re such a control freak, you know that?”

Damian scowled, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “And you’re impossibly stubborn.”

“Yeah, well, you’re nosy.”

“Nosy?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking. “I prefer the term thorough.”

“Right,” you said, barely holding back a laugh. You shook your head with a smile and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.”

Damian’s eyes softened as he closed the distance between you. You melted into him, pulling him into a tender kiss. Damian hummed softly, the vibration tickling your lips and adding a cozy warmth to the moment. He kissed you again, and again, each one a little more affectionate than the last. Your laughter bubbled up, breathy and light, as you both got caught in a playful rhythm. His nose nudged against yours, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

The sudden ringing of the school bell cut through the moment.

“Mmph!” You pulled back slightly, a smile tugging at your lips as you gently stroked his cheek. “You… probably should get to class.”

It took a few more (okay, a lot more) minutes before Damian finally let you go. You practically had to wrestle your way out of his arms, like he was a kid clinging to a favorite toy. When you told him to go back to class instead of tagging along with you and Morgan, he sulked like a toddler.

Despite his stormy mood, you managed to convince him to head back. As you both stepped out of the closet, Damian trudged away with a grumble, throwing one last dramatic look over his shoulder.

“Behave yourself,” you laughed, waving him away before setting off to find Morgan.

When you finally spotted her by the entrance, she was holding up a flash drive like it was the Holy Grail. Meanwhile, you looked like you’d just been through a whirlwind: your hair was a tousled mess, your jacket was askew, and your tie was twisted at an odd angle. 

“Got the goods?” you asked, breathless as you straightened your tie and smoothed down your messy hair.

“Yep,” Morgan said with a grin, her eyes darting to your state of disarray. “Damn. A janitor’s closet, huh? I see it got pretty heated in there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, scoffing and giving her a kick to the shin. “Nothing happened, you ass. We were just talking. I had to practically wrestle my way out because he was going nuts over my injuries.”

Morgan chuckled, tucking the flash drive into her pocket. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with him.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. "How did you know it was the janitor’s closet, anyway?"

“CCTV,” Morgan simply shrugged. “Was checking out the live feed for security. And I figured you two were up to something when I saw you both ducking out of the room. The system was laughably easy to hack into. I was honestly surprised.”

“You’re Tony Stark’s daughter,” you snarked. “Anything less than government-level encryption is basically child’s play for you.”

Morgan grinned. “True that. But there’s one tiny issue.” She raised a finger and twirled it in the air. “I might have tripped a few alarms.”

WEE-OWW-WEE-OWW!

The distant blare of sirens cut through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Red and blue lights began to flicker through the windows.

You stared at Morgan, incredulous. 

“What. What the fuck!? What did you do?”

“Let’s just say security’s gonna be a bit more interested in our location now. Oopsie!” Morgan’s grin widened. “I had to shut down some things to avoid detection. So, the power’s going to go out in 3…2…1.”

As she finished her countdown, the lights flickered erratically before plunging the hallway into complete darkness. A heartbeat later, the wail of the announcement system cut through the silence, urgently repeating, “Please evacuate the building. Please evacuate immediately.” The strobing red emergency lights cast frantic shadows, and chaos erupted as students screamed, darting from classrooms and colliding in the dark.

Morgan spread her arms wide, a triumphant grin plastered across her face as if she’d just dropped a mic. “Boom.”

“What the hell about this screams ‘stealth’ to you?” you whisper-shouted, grabbing Morgan’s hand and pulling her toward the exit.

Morgan’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she squeezed your hand in return. "It’s way more fun this way."

You both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, your footsteps echoing through the hallways and mingling with the blaring alarms.

Turning a corner, you nearly collided with a group of students stumbling through the chaos. Their faces were masks of panic. One of them tripped, sprawling onto the floor with an undignified thud.

“Watch it! Are you okay?” you shouted, skidding to a halt and kneeling to help the fallen student.

Morgan, unable to hold back, burst into laughter. “Dumbasses!”

You shot her a half-angry, half-exasperated look. “Just get us out of here before we get arrested for public disturbance!”

“Right behind you!” Morgan said, grabbing your hand again and pulling you both into a sprint. As you neared the exit, the muffled voices of security personnel grew louder, rushing to restore power. With one last burst of speed, you burst through the exit doors, the alarms fading into the distance.

Morgan looked over at you, her face glowing with sweat and a victorious grin. “And that’s how you make an exit.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday - The Safehouse, Gotham City.

After your adrenaline-pumping escape and a bumpy ride across the city in an Uber that looked like it had seen better days—note to self: next time, cab— you finally made it back to the safehouse.

Morgan was already at the main table, surrounded by a chaotic sea of files and documents spread out across multiple screens. Her eyes were locked onto the flash drive she’d pulled from the school, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she sifted through the data.

A few steps away, you were hunched over a cluttered workbench in the tech area, surrounded by spools of web fluid and a mess of metal tools. The entire day had been spent tinkering, but finally, your whip project was coming together.

With a few final tweaks, you picked up the whip and gave it a few test swings. 

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were a kid, watching Selina work her whip with that effortless skill. You’d sit in the corner of the training room, eyes wide, totally mesmerized. She made it look so easy, so natural. Inspired, you’d sneak off to your room after her sessions, grabbing whatever you could find—a belt, a rope, anything that even remotely resembled a whip. You’d slam the door behind you and practice in secret.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror—awkward, stumbling, and kind of a hot mess—but you didn’t give a damn. You’d keep at it, again and again, dead set on matching her skill, even if it meant looking like a total idiot in the process.

CRACK!

Morgan jumped, her chair spinning around as she stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't help but grin as you sauntered toward her, twirling the whip around your body. The webbing swirled through the air, curving gracefully around you in a move straight out of Catwoman's playbook. With a final flourish, you cracked it down onto the floor, the sharp snap echoing through the room.

Morgan’s ears flushed red, and she shifted in her chair, clearly taken aback. “Woah. That’s hot as fuck.”

You laughed, tossing her a wink. “Glad you think so. I was channeling my inner Catwoman.”

Still a bit flustered, Morgan cleared her throat and extended her hand. You placed the whip into her palm, and she inspected it closely, her fingers tracing the intricate details of your craftsmanship.

“Seriously, though,” she said, looking up at you, “Where’d you learn to handle a whip like that?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just a little bit of practice, you know? I’ve had some pretty good teachers.”

Your gaze then shifted to her screen, where a file on Ivy's toxins was open. Charts, chemical structures, and old lab notes cluttered the display.

“Thought you were going through Octavius’ files?” you asked.

“Oh, I was," Morgan handed the whip back to you with a shrug.

"But then I stumbled on this.” She pointed at the screen. “Insane, right? Did you know Gotham University lets their Botany majors examine Ivy’s toxins? There are detailed reports from student lab projects—college students analyzing some seriously dangerous stuff. Who thinks that's a good idea?”

You arched an eyebrow. “It’s Gotham University. Top in the country. They probably consider it a rite of passage. It’s not like the city holds back on the bizarre.”

Morgan shook her head, her disbelief morphing into a bemused smile. “Seriously, though, it’s even in their chemistry curriculum. ‘Advanced Chemistry: How to Survive Ivy’s Toxins 101.’ Like, what kind of class is that?”

You chuckled. “Sounds like standard Gotham fare. The city has a way of turning even the most mundane academic subjects into survival skills.”

As you stared at the file, your mind drifted to Ivy—Pamela Isley, who had once been a big part of your life. Back when she was close with Selina, you even used to call her Aunt Isley. It felt right at the time, natural, given how much she was around.

One memory stood out: Ivy had to leave town, and she’d entrusted Selina with her beloved plants. You were just a kid, but you remember how excited you were to have Ivy’s vibrant greenery filling the place. Selina had promised to take good care of them, but… she forgot. Just plain forgot to water them.

When Ivy returned, the plants were withered and dead. For someone like Ivy—an eco-terrorist with a green thumb so legendary she could probably make a cactus bloom in a snowstorm—this was more than just a mistake. It felt like a betrayal.

The fallout was brutal. Ivy was livid, and Selina was wrecked. If you hadn’t been there to calm things down, Ivy might’ve strangled Selina with a vine on the spot.

Morgan sighed dramatically, pushing her chair back from the screen and stretching like a cat. "I’m so over these files," she announced, spinning around to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We need to do something fun."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued as she started navigating through a map on her command center. "What are you up to?"

"Finding us a little adventure," she replied, her grin widening as she zoomed in on a spot on the outskirts of Gotham. "Look at this—an old, supposedly abandoned greenhouse. Rumor has it, it’s still full of Ivy’s plants. We should go check it out."

You blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "You want to go trespassing in an abandoned greenhouse filled with potentially dangerous plants?"

Morgan shrugged with a carefree grin. "Why not? It’s way more exciting than sitting here with these boring files. Besides, think of the intel we could gather! Maybe even some samples. If you're serious about this hero thing, having some cures on hand could be pretty useful."

You raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, my focus was on tech companies. Not plants."

Morgan leaned back in her chair, throwing her hands up. "C'mon, it’ll be fun! We could call it a ‘field trip’ for our mission."

You scoffed, but a smirk tugged at your lips as you grabbed your glasses. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart and responsible one among the two of us?”

Morgan shot you a playful smile as she grabbed her jacket. “Smart enough to know when we need a break.”

She slung her jacket over her shoulder with a casual flick. “And who knows? We might stumble into something interesting or at least have a hell of a time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine, but if this turns into a mess, you’re the one explaining it to Tony.”

“Deal,” Morgan grinned, heading toward the door. “Now let’s get out of here before I lose my mind.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 12:34 AM - Ivy's 'Abandoned' Warehouse, Gotham City.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the overgrown landscape as you swung through the rainy Gotham air. Raindrops pattered against your suit, mixing with the cool breeze as you guided both yourself and Morgan down toward the warehouse’s perimeter. You landed softly on the other side of the fence, the wet ground beneath you squelching slightly.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, shrouded in shadows and engulfed by a thick veil of greenery. Vines and creeping plants had swallowed the building, twisting their way up the walls and breaking through the broken windows. Shrubs and wild foliage sprawled across the once-smooth concrete, creating a tangled jungle that had overtaken the area.

You and Morgan navigated through the thick underbrush, your footsteps muffled by the lush carpet of foliage. 

“Welcome to the jungle,” Morgan whispered, adjusting her glasses as raindrops collected on the lenses. She reached for a flashlight, flicking it on to cut through the gloomy darkness.

“Did you really have to pick the creepiest spot in Gotham?” you muttered, glancing around warily. Your spider senses buzzed faintly, a low hum that told you to stay alert, though you weren’t entirely sure what you should be on the lookout for.

As you approached the warehouse’s entrance, you noticed the heavy wooden doors were slightly ajar, propped open by a stubborn vine wedged in the gap. You took a few steps back, then charged at the door with all your might. It crashed inward with a resounding clang, sending splinters flying and the vine recoiling.

CLANG!

You kicked the door aside and stepped into a scene that looked like something straight out of a botanical horror movie. The interior of the warehouse was a riot of green. Hanging plants and tendrils formed a dense canopy overhead. The remnants of old plant pots and scientific equipment were half-buried under layers of creeping vines and moss.

“Keep your eyes peeled for anything useful,” you said, stepping inside.

The plan was simple: infiltrate the location, gather as much information as possible, and leave before anyone even noticed you were there.

Your boots squelched slightly on the damp ground as you made your way further into the labyrinth of greenery. Morgan followed close behind, her flashlight beam scanning the surroundings.

“Looks like she really made herself at home. Can’t believe she’d leave all these beauties behind,” she murmured.

After a few minutes of searching, you stumbled upon a makeshift lab tucked away in a corner of the warehouse. Old tables and shelves, now covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, held an assortment of glassware, old notebooks, and strange samples.

Morgan’s eyes lit up as she approached the lab. “This must be it! Look at all this stuff.”

Kneeling down, she began sifting through the clutter, her flashlight revealing dusty glassware, faded notebooks, and a variety of botanical samples in various states of preservation. She carefully picked up a few jars, examining the contents with growing fascination.

You stood guard by the door, senses on high alert. The slow hum of your spider senses gradually intensified, morphing into a persistent, almost blaring buzz in the back of your mind. It felt like a magnetic pull, drawing your focus to every flicker of shadow and rustle of the unseen. 

Morgan, oblivious to your heightened alertness, was engrossed in a particularly worn notebook.

"This is so fucking cool," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "Check out these notes—they look like they’re from Ivy’s earlier research. She was experimenting with ways to boost plant growth, mixing toxins, and even concocting some kind of antidote."

As Morgan continued to study the notebook, the buzzing in your senses grew stronger. You tensed, feeling a prickling chill race up your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There was something else in the warehouse—something you couldn’t immediately identify, but it was there.

“Morgan,” you said quietly. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Morgan looked up from her work, fingers curled around a test tube. “What do you mean?”

“Just keep your eyes open,” you warned, eyes narrowing as you scanned the shadows. “Start packing up and be quick. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Morgan’s fingers flew over the lab equipment as she grabbed several samples and shoved them into her bag. The air seemed to grow thicker, the plants rustling with an almost eerie liveliness.

!!!

“We need to go. Now!” you hissed, urgently grabbing Morgan and pulling her to her feet.

Morgan flinched but scrambled up, stuffing the worn notebook she’d found into her jacket. “Alright… let me just—”

Before she could finish, your spider senses exploded into a full-blown scream of warning.

DANGER.

“Get down!”

Without warning, you grabbed Morgan and pushed her down behind some crates, your suit beginning to uncloak.

A thick vine lashed out from the shadows, slamming into your side with a force that knocked the wind out of you. Pain exploded where the vine struck, radiating through your ribs as you skidded backward and crashed into a metal rack.

Your helmet hadn’t fully materialized in time, and the impact with the shelving unit sent a jarring shock through your skull, leaving you dazed and disoriented.

"A little spider has wandered into my web~"

Shit.

Warmth trickled down from your forehead where the impact had split the skin. With a shaky breath, you pushed yourself off the rack, using it for support as you steadied yourself.

"Hello, crazy plant lady," you quipped, your helmet materializing as the voice modulator kicked in.

You weren’t her estranged niece now; you were Nightcrawler, Gotham's latest hero.

From above, Ivy unfurled herself from the ceiling, smirking as she lounged on a sprawling leaf. Vines curled around her with languid grace, reacting to her slightest gesture as if extensions of her will.

"Ah, Gotham's newest little hero," Ivy's voice was a melodious yet chilling purr, her laughter echoing softly through the warehouse. "What brings you to my sanctuary?"

The slits in your mask narrowed as you drew your claws and unclipped your whip from your belt. Ivy’s eyes narrowed at the choice of weapons, a flicker of recognition in her gaze. She was clearly connecting the similarities between you and Catwoman.

"Oh, just swinging by to see what all the fuss is about. Heard you've been busy in Gotham."

Ivy's smile sharpened, a glint of admiration lighting up her emerald eyes.

"Hm. Spunk," she purred, hands moving to tangle in her hair. "I do appreciate that in my visitors."

Out of the corner of your visor, you spotted Morgan inching away. You gave her a discreet nod, signaling her to keep going while you kept your focus locked on Ivy.

"So, this place wasn’t as abandoned as I thought," you said, trying to keep Ivy talking and distracted. "For someone who supposedly retired from the spotlight, you sure know how to throw a party."

Ivy threw her head back and laughed. "Retired?" she repeated. "Oh, honey, you have no idea."

Around you, vines stirred, their sinewy tendrils snaking up your legs like snakes. Unfazed, you subtly shifted your weight, and then, with a swift slash of your claws, the vines split apart. You flipped away, slipping out of their grasp with ease.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice when my darlings are disturbed?” Ivy’s voice dripped with mockery. “Just when I finally manage to reclaim this space from concrete and steel, pests like you decide to get curious.”

“Look, I’ve got a busy schedule,” you quipped, narrowly dodging a lashing vine. “So how about we skip the tango and save us both a night of pain?”

“Oh, you’re simply delightful,” Ivy purred,sultry and chilling. “Very well, little spider. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

In a heartbeat, Ivy was in motion. Vines shot through the air like whips, each one aiming to entangle or strike. You sidestepped a thick vine that snapped past your ear and rolled under another that slammed into the floor where you’d just been. Your senses were on fire.

Beep!

In the corner of your visor, Morgan’s face flickered into view—a welcome sight amid the chaos. The camera feed was shaky, but you could make out her anxious expression as she huddled behind a stack of crates, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“Are you okay?” you hissed through the comms, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of vines around you.

“M Outside! Sorry! I…I didn’t realize Ivy was here!” Morgan said, her voice tinged with panic. “I thought this place was a total ghost town!”

“Apologize later!” you shouted back, ducking a swinging vine. “Just stay out of sight. I’ll catch up with you once I deal with the plant lady!”

With a quick flip, you barely managed to dodge another flurry of whipping vines. You drew back your whip and snapped it towards the incoming tendrils, slicing through them. 

Ivy scowled, her eyes narrowing as she watched her plants get cut down. She retaliated, sending a fresh wave of vines hurtling toward you.

You dodged and weaved, the thick, green tendrils brushing against your suit. Each crack of your whip was followed by a sharp hiss of defeated foliage.

You charged through, ducking and weaving to avoid the onslaught. When you were close enough, you landed a solid left hook to Ivy’s face, the impact echoing with a satisfying thud. Ivy’s head snapped back with a sharp yelp of pain. You laughed, not giving her a moment to regroup, and threw another punch straight to her jaw.

JAB!

“Had enough, or should I keep going?” you taunted.

Ivy’s eyes flared with rage. “You little—”

Leaping onto a stack of crates to dodge another lash from her vines, you shot a web at Ivy. The sticky strands wrapped around her wrists, pinning her securely against a nearby support beam.

Ivy struggled against the webbing, her vines twitched with agitation as they lashed out. You kept your whip and claws at the ready, prepared for any sudden moves.

“Alright, listen up,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Unless you want more of your precious plants turned into mulch, I suggest you calm down.”

“Calm down?” Ivy hissed, her frustration barely contained. “You’re the intruder here, desecrating my sanctuary. I won’t tolerate this!”

You took a deep breath, trying to defuse the situation. “Look, I’m really sorry about the intrusion. Didn’t mean to step on your botanical toes. We were just here to explore—”

“Explore?” Ivy’s brow shot up. “Is that why your friend took of my vials and papers?”

You stared at her, blinking a few times. Then, with a sheepish shrug, you said, “Okay, to be fair, you left that stuff lying around. It kind of looked like it was up for grabs. Plus, we didn’t exactly see a ‘Keep Out’ sign.”

“So, it’s a case of ‘finders keepers,’ then?” she scowled. “And here I thought you were a little more refined than that.”

“Hey!” you said, walking towards her until you were just a foot away. “I’m just calling it like I see it, lady. Maybe if you knew how to clean up, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ivy tossed her hair over her shoulder, the golden-orange strands cascading like vines down her back. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your jaw, her breath warm and tantalizing against your skin.

“Well, if you’re so keen on exploring,” she purred, her voice a sultry whisper, “I could show you something that’ll really satisfy your curiosity.”

!!!

Your spider senses flared with urgent warnings, but before you could react, Ivy thrust a slender vine beneath the edge of your helmet. In an instant, a cloud of pollen erupted inside your mask, catching you completely off guard. You gasped and choked, stumbling backward as your vision blurred and your nose was overwhelmed by the suffocating, heady scent of the pollen.

Your visor’s alarms blared, vitals flashing urgently:

TOXIN DETECTED.

“Damn it,” you grimaced as a searing heat began to radiate through your skin and bones. The prickling sensation quickly escalated into an intense burn, making it feel like your blood was boiling beneath your skin.

“Morgan!” you called out. “Find me an escape route, now!”

"Underestimated me?" Ivy cackled. "Thought you could resist my charms, did you?"

Morgan’s shaky voice crackled through the comms. “I’m searching for a way out! Just hang in there!”

“Oh, you won’t be escaping that easily,” Ivy sneered at you, still trapped in your webs. Despite her restraints, her vines writhed and twisted with a life of their own. “This is my domain, and you’re not leaving until I say so.”

You gritted your teeth, struggling against the searing pain as the vines inched closer. “Alright, I’m really sorry for this, but I’m done playing nice.”

With a sharp flick of your wrist, you shot a web at a vase perched precariously on a high shelf. The vase tumbled through the air and crashed down onto Ivy’s head, shattering into a shower of shards and a splash of crimson.

Ivy screamed as the shards rained down, a flurry of leaves and flowers cascading over her head and shoulders, momentarily obscuring her vision. 

Morgan's face reappeared on your visor, her brow furrowed with worry. “There’s a clear window—no vines blocking it! Hurry! I marked it on your map!”

Glancing at the map in your visor, you spotted the indicated window. 

"This was nice, but I’ve got places to be and people to save," you heaved, your voice breathy as you kicked away a lashing vine. "So if you don’t mind, I'll be taking my leave."

THWIP.

Launching yourself through the open window, you felt the cool, rain-soaked Gotham air slap your face as you soared into the night. The roar of the storm and the distant hum of the city below filled your senses. Behind you, Ivy’s furious shouts pierced through the downpour, her curses mingling with the crack of thrashing vines slamming against the walls.

“PEST!”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 1:05 AM - Crime Alley, Gotham City.

"Robin, status?" Oracle's voice beeped in from Damian's earpiece.

Damian was perched on a rooftop, jade eyes scanning the dark expanse of Crime Alley below. The rain poured down in relentless sheets, the cold droplets cascading off the edges of his hood and dripping onto his shoulders.

From his vantage point, he could see the dilapidated buildings lining Crime Alley, their broken windows and graffiti-covered walls illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning. The streets below were deserted, the few brave souls out in the storm moving quickly, their faces obscured by umbrellas and hoods. Puddles formed in the uneven pavement, reflecting the occasional flicker of streetlights.

He lifted a gloved hand to his communication device, the wet leather squeaking slightly against the earpiece.

"I'm in my usual position," he reported, his voice steady. "No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'," Damian scoffed as he kept his eyes trained on the rain-soaked expanse below.

"Demon brat's got a point," Jason drawled, the sound of him slurping a drink faintly audible over the comms. "Harley still calls you Duck-Boy."

"Just focus on the job," Nightwing interjected, his voice slicing through the bickering with an authoritative edge. "Tonight’s a washout. Red Robin and I are on patrol near the docks. We’ve encountered a few low-level crooks, but nothing major."

"Alright," Oracle’s voice came through again. "Stay on high alert. Let me know if anything changes."

As the comms went silent, Damian pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up against the storm's backdrop. For a fleeting moment, his stoic expression softened. A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the lock screen—a picture of you, warm and content in one of his shirts, your face framed by tousled hair and a genuine smile.

He noted the time—1:05 AM. Given your unpredictable sleep patterns, you were likely still awake. Damian's finger hovered over the screen, caught between sending a quick message or making a call. But before he could decide, a sharp gust of wind swept across the rooftop, making his cape snap and sending a chill through his soaked uniform.

He slipped the phone back into his belt, shook off the cold, and refocused on the scene below. His eyes scanned the shadowy expanse: dark alleys, rain-slicked roads, and flickering, rusting shop signs.

Then, a sudden, unexpected movement shattered the monotony. A flash of red and white streaked across the skyline, its vibrant colors stark against the darkened sky. A web shot out, glinting briefly in the intermittent lightning before anchoring itself to a nearby building.

THWIP.

There was a pause.

Damian’s lips curled into a sharp snarl. His fingers tightened around the grip of his grappling gun, his mind shifting into high gear. With a scowl, he tapped his earpiece.

“Oracle,” Damian began, boots crunching as he moved to the edge of the rooftop. “I have visual on the spider vigilante. Engaging in pursuit.”

Without waiting for a reply, he fired the grappling gun. The line shot through the air with a metallic twang, slicing through the rain-soaked night. He felt the jolt as the grappling hook latched onto a distant anchor, pulling him forward.

As he swung through the storm, a fierce thrill coursed through him, like a bird unleashed with new wings. With the city sprawled out beneath him and the rain pelting against his face, Robin was ready to do what he did best.

Hunt.

 ༻⊰───⋅

"It's going to take hours to get this smell out of my suit," you heaved, wrinkling your nose as you fired a web into the distant skyline. The line stuck firmly to a building, and with a jarring lurch, you swung deeper into the city.

Morgan clung to you for dear life, her voice barely audible over the rush of air. “Not the time to worry about laundry! Focus on not crashing into something! And maybe on not dying from the poison?!”

"Hey, I’m just saying," you shot back with a strained chuckle, “if I survive this, I’m gonna need to have this suit professionally cleaned.”

Morgan’s grip tightened, and she shouted, “Survive first, clean later!"

With a yank of your web, you aimed for the next rooftop, but as you hurtled through the air, you realized that you’d miscalculated the distance. The rooftop was rushing in too fast, and panic surged through you like ice.

Your stomach lurched, and in a split-second decision, you threw Morgan forward, trying to cushion her fall. She landed with a thud, a breathless gasp escaping her as she hit the roof.

You, however, weren’t so fortunate. Your foot snagged the edge of the roof awkwardly, sending a sharp pain shooting up your leg.

CRACK.

The sickening crack of bone snapping echoed through the air as your ankle twisted violently. The force of the impact jolted your entire body, sending you sprawling onto the rough, gravelly rooftop.

“Great…” you muttered through gritted teeth, struggling to push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, the toxin’s effects amplifying the pain with each passing second.

You bit down hard on your tongue, the metallic taste of blood bubbling into your mouth. You fought to keep yourself upright, but your legs felt like lead, and you crumpled onto the rooftop, unable to fully bear your weight.

“Shit!” Morgan scrambled to her feet, her face a mask of panic and concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

"Just… a little off target," you panted, wincing as you assessed the damage. Your visor had taken a hit during the fall, causing the data to flicker erratically. Through the static, you could still make out the crucial info: a broken bone.

“It's fine… Just a broken ankle,” you added, trying to maintain your composure despite the sluggishness creeping into your movements. 

“You’re getting brain fog and dizziness,” Morgan said urgently, her fingers flipping through the notebook she’d snatched earlier. “It’s a side effect of the toxin. We need to get you to the safehouse—”

Before she could finish, you shook your head with a groan. “No. You call a cab and head there. I’ll swing.”

“Are you insane?!” Morgan nearly shouted, grabbing your arm in panic. “You can barely stand, let alone swing through the city! We need to get you help, now!”

You pushed her away, trying to ignore the throbbing in your ankle. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. The suit’s tampered, I think. Look.”

You attempted to uncloack, but the metal sputtered and glitched erratically. “See? I can’t uncloack. If you’re seen with me, they’ll find us out in no time. I can’t risk that.”

Morgan’s eyes darted between you and the malfunctioning suit, her face a mix of worry and frustration. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Stop,” you cut her off, wincing as the pain intensified. “It’s not your fault. Just get to the safehouse. I’ll manage.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Morgan’s eyes. “I can’t just leave you like this!”

“You don’t have a choice,” you said firmly, trying to steady your voice. “If we’re both caught, it’ll be worse. Now go! I’ll be fine.”

With one last, apologetic glance, Morgan pulled out her phone and dialed for a cab, her hands trembling.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Damian, concealed in the shadows of the rooftop, landed with a muted thud. He crouched behind the crumbling ledge of an old brick wall, the slits in his mask narrowing as he took in the scene unfolding just a few feet away.

He watched as you struggled to regain your footing, your movements pained and uneven. The girl beside you—her rain-soaked silhouette a blur against the storm—was clearly in a panic, her phone clutched tightly as she fumbled with it.

‘A civilian,’ Damian thought, frustration lining his features. Launching a direct attack now would be reckless. He had to be certain the vigilante was genuinely on their own before making a move.

After a tense moment, the girl finally moved and dashed down the fire escape, her figure barely visible through the downpour. Damian squinted through the sheets of rain, straining to catch a glimpse of her features, but the storm blurred his view into an indistinct smear of color and motion.

The moment she was out of sight, his attention snapped back to you. You took a deep, ragged breath, bracing yourself. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you launched yourself into the night. 

Damian followed, his movements fluid and precise as he pushed off from the ledge. His cape billowed behind him like a dark, flowing banner, and he darted into the storm. 

Below, the streets were a chaotic blur of honking horns and glaring headlights, their harsh lights slicing through the darkness like knives. Heavy sheets of rain hammered down, obscuring your vision and drenching you to the bone. Water seeped through the cracks in your suit, each drop feeling like an icy needle against your overheated, feverish skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was too much. The pain, the heat, the storm—it was all too much.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale bringing more of Ivy’s insidious toxin into your lungs.

In one desperate swing, you miscalculated the web’s trajectory. It shot out too low, sending you plummeting uncontrollably below.

Cursing through gritted teeth, you were hurled down into traffic. Everything was a blur as you slammed into the side of a car, metal denting and screams deafening your ears. Your shoulder bore the brunt of the collision, sending shockwaves of pain through your bones.

For a brief, suspended moment, everything went dark.

A cold, mechanical voice sliced through the void, its tone harsh and insistent. Maggie’s synthetic voice, though devoid of human warmth, was tinged with urgency.

“Immediate response required. Vitals are critically low. Consciousness levels decreasing. Current status is life-threatening. Please respond.”

Abruptly, your senses snapped back into sharp focus. You jolted awake with a ragged gasp, your breath coming in frantic bursts. Your vision was a fractured mosaic of blinding lights and shadowy figures. The sounds of blaring horns and panicked shouts crashed back into your ears, tires screeching all around you.

Morgan’s voice crackled through the static, panic evident in her tone. “I’m at the safehouse! Where are you? I couldn't reach you! What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” you managed, your voice strained. “I won’t make it to the safehouse in time.”

You tapped the side of your visor, making a map flicker to life through the cracks and glitches. The display was unstable, but it highlighted a route to your apartment.

“You know where my mom's apartment is, right?” you heaved. “That’s where I’m heading.”

Entering your apartment was risky, but with your condition worsening and death looming, it was the closest refuge you could manage.

Damian, hidden in the alleyway, watched you with a furrowed brow. What he initially wrote off as rookie mistakes now seemed out of character. Your disoriented movements were starkly different from the precise maneuvers he had seen in news footage and CCTV feeds. He had been tracking your case closely, and this chaos didn't match the profile he had built.

He watched as you struggled to stand, your legs shaking with each attempt. The driver's shouts were drowned out by the storm of noise around you. Your strained apologies were barely audible. Desperation marked your actions as you fired another web, using it to pull yourself up and away from the wrecked car and the angry crowd.

Damian cursed under his breath and quickly took off after you. 

He tracked your erratic path through twisted, narrow streets until he saw you aim for an apartment building. With a quick stretch of your arm, you shot a web toward a balcony, but your aim was off again.

Another sloppily thrown web sent you slamming into the windows of the apartment. The metal edge dug into your ribs with brutal force, knocking the wind out of you. You gasped, your lungs burning as you struggled to draw in air. Pain radiated from your side, and shards of glass sprayed everywhere.

Damian, perched on the rooftop across the street, stared in disbelief. This was Catwoman’s apartment—Selina Kyle’s. The worst possible scenario unfolded in his mind. To him, it looked like a break-in. His jaw clenched tightly, and his fingers gripped the edge of his grappling gun, knuckles whitening with the force of his anger.

Pest.

Without hesitation, Damian leapt into action. He aimed for the fire escape with single-minded intensity, propelling himself toward it with a powerful thrust. His boots hammered against the metal steps, causing them to buckle and the entire structure to groan and rattle under the force of his descent. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw your figure slip into the window.

Tunnel-visioned and driven by a surge of protectiveness, Damian kicked the door to the fire escape open, the metal panel scraping roughly across the floor. His father would have his head for causing unnecessary public damage—something Robin was frequently under fire for—but at that moment, he couldn't have cared less.

"Was that a crash?!" Nightwing's voice crackled through the comm line.

"I think it's coming from demon brat's side. What's the report, squirt?"

Damian merely growled in response as he began to stalk down the hallway. His tall figure, cloaked in shadows, cast long, dark lines across the floor as he moved. He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp and menacing over the comms.

"Someone's about to learn the price of crossing me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Dazed and disoriented, you slipped into the building, the rough edge of the window scraping against your battered body. As you tumbled through your apartment, you hit the floor with a heavy thud, the impact shaking your entire frame. Your head struck the ground with a thump, stars exploding in your vision.

For a brief, haunting moment, there was silence—deep, oppressive silence. Then, a cold, creeping dread slithered through you.

You clawed at the floor, your body shaking.

"Mom? Mom, please! I need you!" Your voice cracked, a raw, fear seeping through every syllable. "Mom, are you there? Please, help me!"

Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat and blood as you cried out into the empty, echoing apartment. The lights were off, casting the space into a suffocating darkness that seemed to press in on you.

Desperately, you stumbled into Selina’s bedroom. Your heart sank as you noticed the absence of her suit—no sleek, black leather or whip. She must have been out on patrol.

A deafening crash shattered the silence as the apartment door was ripped from its hinges. Before you could fully react, a rough hand clamped down on you, throwing you to the floor.

Your vision blurred in and out of focus as you were pinned to the floor. A heavy foot pressed mercilessly against your chest, crushing your ribs with every breath. The weight lifted, then slammed down again, ripping through your suit with a sickening crunch. The suit uncloaked, its torn pieces clinging to your clothes, leaving you exposed in just your undershirt and pants.

Through the dim, flickering light, the outline of your attacker became clearer. A katana was unsheathed with a chilling rasp, its cold blade pressed menacingly against your neck. The steel gleamed ominously, catching the sparse light and reflecting a deadly shimmer. The edge was so close you could feel its icy touch, a mere breath away from slicing into your flesh.

The thought of that forced you to tilt your head back, exposing more of your neck to the shadowy figure looming over you.

Tall and imposing, the figure was clad in grey and black armor, with a black cape flowing behind them. A red emblem, unmistakably the symbol of an R, was stitched onto their chest.

A cold realization cut through the fog of pain and fear—Robin?

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

dundunDUN

whatchu think bookiebears

surely the batfam will handle this well

[zwhoreo]

i’m back for now with something I’ve been working on for a little while <3

rain - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: while waiting out a rainstorm under a gazebo, you and Luffy use sex to pass the time

contains: very vanilla and casual, you ride luffy

words: 1.9k

_______________________________

The rain started when you were still far away. You had wandered through the forest trying to find those small, white berries that Robin told you about, you’re almost lost although you haven’t really tried to find your way back. The ship is over the hill, through those trees, maybe. But the rain comes in tiny bullets at first, seeming to pierce the leaves, the sky is darkening and a chill runs through you. You have to find the berries. The others are gathering meat, you’re gathering berries. And the rain comes faster now, machine gun fire, when you feel it on your shirt you know you aren’t imagining anymore. The moss grows softer under your feet, the leaves above you cast darker and darker shadows and the dappled sunlight fades to gray. Water makes patterns against the trees, you’re surrounded by gentle sound.

You realize that cover is more important than the berries, you need to wait out this storm, and so you run through the forest, stumbling in a soaked clearing as the rain falls freely on your face.

There’s a gazebo, bathed in the last of the light, sparkling in front of you. The paint is cracked and white, there are vintage designs on the awning, and someone is there already, huddled up on the narrow bench under its roof, hugging his knees. But he lights up when he sees you, running to the railing and grabbing the support pole.

“[NAME]!!” Luffy shouts.

“Luffy?” you call out, joyful. Rain is pouring in harder now and your hair is sticking to your face. It’s speeding up so quickly now. “I thought you were with Sanji!”

“Got lost!” he says, smiling. The rain starts to come in sheets and he blurs in your vision.

You run over to him, taking cover in the gazebo and he immediately comes over and holds you in his arms, pressing into you tightly and resting his head on your shoulder. It’s warm but he’s wet too so it doesn’t help much, not like that.

You look across the sky and you see blue in the distance, far away, but the clouds are rolling in and maybe they’ll be gone soon if you just wait. So you tell that to Luffy, who doesn’t mind waiting as long as it’s with you. You pull away from his grasp just for a moment so you two can sit down on the bench that he’s already dripped all over, but your pants are already soaked, it’s ok.

Luffy seems bursting with energy now that you’re here, but with nowhere to really let it out. He’s nearly on your lap he’s pressed so close, asking about where you’ve been, but running in the rain has made you tired so you just lean in and kiss him instead.

The world goes silent, except for the rain, as you place a hand on the back of his neck and press your lips to his gently, while his eyes are still wide open. You massage his thigh in small circles and whisper to him, “Glad I found you.”

“Mmn…” He murmurs in response, eyes drifting down to your hand. His skin is warm, he’s looking at you hungrily, now.

“We’ve got a little time, what do you wanna do?” You lean in, lips hovering right under his ear, you hear his heavy breathing, his heartbeat.

Luffy leans against you. He presses his body into yours and your lips connect with his skin and his back arches on instinct. You adjust. You place him onto the bench and quickly straddle him, your face still close to his, it seems like he really wants to kiss you again. And he can’t help himself anymore so once more those soft lips are connecting with yours as his hat brim touches your forehead. He holds your cheeks in his hands, your chests are together, his heart is racing against yours. He giggles into your mouth.

“Hehe, c’mere…” he says as you’re pulled tightly against his body in a firm, unyielding embrace. It suddenly becomes a little hard to breathe but that doesn’t really matter because you’re enjoying yourself so much.

And you whisper, “Luffy…” which gets him even more excited. And look at what you’ve done, he’s getting hard against you, pressing up between your legs.

“Eee…” you murmur as you squirm in his lap happily, making him shift against you with every bit of friction you give him. He’s making this little humming noise deep in the back of his throat that blends pleasantly with the rain on the roof overhead.

Your hands trail down the small of his back, slipping beneath his cardigan which sticks to his skin, his back is smooth and firm, skin silky and clean. Usually there’s wind-blown sea salt stuck to him, built-up sand and grime, usually he’s very sweaty, but as his muscles twitch under your touch he’s just honey-soft and wet, skin brown and sun-kissed and glistening with raindrops of gold.

“That feels good…” he says against your ear, face squishing against you.

“What do you wanna do?” you ask again, and he laughs lightly, tugging at your shirt.

He can see your body through the soaked fabric, he licks his lips, he pulls you a little closer and his hips go rhythmic in their tiny twitching and he says softly, “dunno, anything ya want,” with the biggest, dumbest smile.

Nami taught you how to read clouds, calculate the length of storms by the grayness in the sky, by the cracks of heaven. Peaking over Luffy’s shoulder and outside of the gazebo you can see this rolling rainstorm will pass in maybe twenty minutes, which is enough time for a lot of things, but definitely enough time to take care of your boyfriend who sits beneath you and revels in your pressure and weight.

You ask him, straight up, if he wants to have sex right now, because your boy is clueless enough to not know what you mean if you say anything else or try to make a move, he probably doesn’t even notice he’s hard. He says yes in a casual and happy way since he’s feeling especially affectionate today.

You lean back in his arms, shifting enough to reach down and undo his zipper because he looks uncomfortable in there. Drawing him out of his jeans he gazes down at your hands in a lazy, zoned out way, eyes shimmery and unfocused, lips wet with rain, with saliva. He’s so warm in your hands, so delicate and comforting.

You try not to hurt him as you squirm to pull your panties off, now bare beneath your skirt, his hands find your hips and he’s itching to just start fucking you into his lap. Poor Luffy, he’s probably been thinking about you all day. So you hug him, and listen to his heartbeat, whispering quiet permission to be picked up. And so he lifts you, so easily, you cling to him for balance as he clumsily tries to line himself up and his nose is wrinkled in deep concentration.

“Haahh…” he sighs into your ear as you’re lowered, slow and then too fast, aching fullness stretching your body, nerves lighting up down to your toes and your fingers as another heartbeat enters you. Luffy hugs you as he pushes you down onto him, tighter and tighter, huffing into your cheek. He’s about to start pounding his hips up against yours but you forgot how big he is, it’s been a little while, you need to adjust.

“H- hold on,” you gasp, out of breath, the feeling of him inside you threatening to overtake all reason. Luffy’s melting, he’s squishing against you and you can hear his heartbeat get faster and faster and it’s mixing with the crashing rain. “Hold on,” you say again with a steadier voice, trying to even your breathing. It’s going to be ok. He won’t hurt you, even as you feel his cock twitching within your stomach, trapping you to him. You’re so close now.

He’s kicking his feet against the ground and his hat falls off onto the bench as he presses his face against yours. His wet hair sticks to your skin. But he’s still so warm.

You nod slowly, and to confirm he asks, “ya ready?” in an excited, scratchy little voice and when you nod again he begins to squeeze your waist, sandals planted hard on the stone, and he starts to grind his hips in sloppy upwards circling that makes him scrape and rub himself inside you with such a peaceful rhythm.

You move as well, you let your body loosen in his grasp and bury your head in his neck as you ride him, slow and then too fast. Luffy begins to grunt and then to moan from the back of his throat so loud that the rain no longer drowns him out. And the sounds of you both are so wet like a puddle of rainwater, splashing, dripping. He kisses you and that’s wet too, accidentally spitting into your mouth in his joy and pleasure.

With each thrust you press against him closer. You love this so much, even as those fleeting thoughts cross your mind of what if you’re found? In the middle of this clearing framed by rain and white wood and Luffy’s being so loud that anyone could hear you, anyone could see you if they just looked between the trees here. But now isn’t the time for worrying, you feel safe and you don’t care.

When Luffy holds you down onto his lap, buried inside you as deep as he’ll go and not letting your hips so much as twitch, you know he’s about to cum. The possessiveness that overtakes him makes him insistent on releasing inside you as much as he can, there’s something about it that gives him intense, instinctual satisfaction. So you feel him spasm and groan and then fill you with a familiar finality of warmth and love, all to remind you that you’re his. And you don’t move from his lap, he won’t let you. You’re stuck here, glued here, maybe he just likes the contact, or he sort of likes the itching overstimulation, maybe he doesn’t want to watch his cum drip out of you quite yet. He’s stubborn, he won’t let go.

You kiss his forehead. You pick up his hat and place it back on his head, you wipe his hair from his eyes and gaze at him in that beautiful afterglow. Features so soft, angel skin peppered with raindrops, begging to be kissed.

The world just smells like earth and rain and sex now. And blue-yellow sunlight hits you and creates rainbows out of the water on your faces, it makes your eyes sparkle. It’s drizzling now, evaporating into mist. The storm passes, everything is quiet again, so unearthly still. Except the dripping from the gazebo, trickling from the roof and from your thighs. And Luffy’s breath in your ear. And that second heartbeat within you.

“Awh.” Luffy loves the sunshine but he’s sad because he doesn’t want to leave. This means he has to pull out of you, and go back to find Sanji, and to break apart from you even for a moment sounds like pure exhaustion for him.

“We can stay for a little longer,” you promise with a sleepy smile. Basking in his spreading smile, his arms, the smell of the sun and the dying rain.

[aliidarling]

i’ve been playing the og silent hill 2 and it’s SO fun guys. i’m almost done w/the apartment complex part, i’m so excited to meet maria :3

JAMES SUNDERLAND x fem!reader

— nsfw content

summary; after your car breaks down, you find yourself in need of help and shelter. a town near by, silent hill, catches your attention and you end up running into an older man who’s name is james.

warnings: smut, p in v, soft sex, pathetic james, mary is mentioned a bit, he’s a bad person, unprotected sex, praise, fingering, slightly dub-con because he’s kinda imagining mary but it’s completely consensual, low-key up to you wether he imagined mary or you

the streets were foggy, a thick cloud of mystery blocking your view. your steps echoed throughout the empty town, sending goosebumps down your spine, a frown tugging at your lips. you couldn’t even remember why you were here—

ah, that’s right, your car had run down while you were driving near by and now you were on a search for a hotel or motel, desperate for a place to crash. normally, you’d sleep in your car, but it was far too cold for that. the snow was coming down without any warning, coating your surroundings in a thick coat of white.

so far you hadn’t seen or heard anything from this small town. you had seen the signs, the title itself giving you an eerie feeling. silent hill, you thought, sounds like something out of a horror movie.

a small thud comes from behind you and you whip around, looking towards the source. you manage to spot a young girl quickly running behind one of the buildings into a dark alley way, sending a wave of uneasiness over you. a young girl in a town like this, by herself? that couldn’t be good.

“hey!” you called out, running after her the best you could. wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt, you quickly realized. you struggled to catch up with her, quickly loosing her due to the fog. but her footsteps stayed, a clear print in the snow following her figure. you sighed tiredly and patted your chest, regaining your breath. the temperature was gaining an advantage on you.

right as you finally regained your energy and was gonna continue your search for the little girl, a male voice from behind you had you jumping in shock and turning around quickly. the mysterious man wasn’t too tall, with a lean physique and a dark green jacket. he didn’t have a menacing aura, if anything, he seemed like a soaked cat.

“hello?” he says hesitantly, keeping a distance from you. his brows furrow as he scans you, an unsure glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read. he seemed troubled, stressed more then the average person.

“..hello?” you say back, almost hesitantly. you step back, hugging yourself as the snow falls onto your hair. you gently blow a few snowflakes out of your breath. he fiddled with his fingers as he frowned, giving you a small nod.

“i’m james.. i’m looking for my wife, mary.” he says quietly, his voice soft. your posture relaxes slightly at his words, looking him up and down. he seemed the opposite of a potential threat, if anything, he’d need saving from any dangers.

“uhm. sorry, i haven’t seen any women.” you mumble, looking around. it was complete silence, giving you a feeling of discomfort. you wanted out of this town as fast as possible.

“uhm, yeah —well, she has brown hair, brown eyes, pretty—“ he rambled nervously, stepping forward. your lips press together as he displays his obvious distress.

“what’s your wife doing in a town like this?” you tilt your head in question, glancing at his features. gentle stubble, tired eyes, dirty blonde hair and firm brows. handsome. a little pathetic looking. like he’d cry easily.

“she.. don’t worry about that.” he sighs, preparing to turn away. you panic momentarily and step forward hurriedly, tugging at his sleeve with a tugged scowl. “my car broke down near by and i have no where to go. can i stay with you, please? this place gives me the heebie jeebies.”

he stares down at you in confusion, glancing at the way your hand tugs at his sleeve and how hopeful you look. he’s not a horrible person, he reminds himself, he should at least help this young girl out.

“yeah, sure.” he sighs.

a few hours had passed and you find yourself growing some sort of attachment to this older man. he’s attractive, kind, sweet and gentle— what more could you want? he’s blissfully unaware of the way you’ve devoted yourself to him, the way you give him the same look a puppy would give its owner when you’re walking behind him.

your hand is always holding his cuff, too scared to let go. the fog was too thick, you feared if you let your gaze drift for a mere second you’d never see the man again. the wind was starting to pick up now. you both were walking inside the abandoned apartments when he spoke up.

“you look like her, you know.” he says quietly, looking towards you. there was a permanent sad expression on his face that ached your heart. such a pretty face, always frowning.

“your wife?” you say softly, looking up at him. he nods silently and you look back down at yourself, wondering if that meant you were his type. did he think you were pretty? you hoped he did.

“same face and smile, same voice.” he mutters, lifting a hand to gently pet your hair. you smile softly as he runs his fingers through your locks, his eyes glued to the way your hair glistened.

“she seemed lovely.” you attempt.

he offers a weak smile of gratitude.

the town was slowly trapping you two. the fog was getting worse and more thick, the wind singing a lullaby to drift you towards the darkness. you didn’t like it one bit, you didn’t like how the sun started to set and how the noises of the undead increased.

your hands clutched james sleeve cautiously. he frowns and turns to you slightly as you two walk down the street, a bat in his hand with a thick log in yours, you both had found the makeshift weapons in the apartment complex from a few hours back.

“you okay?” he rasps, giving you a worried look. your brows were furrowed with fear as you shook your head, glancing around you at the over-grown trees and the broken windows of shops.

“can we find somewhere to stay for the night? i don’t want to be here when, you know.. it’s dark.” you gulp hard.

he opens his mouth to protest for just a second before his thoughts flick back to the apartment complex, to the large pyrmaid-headed man who attacked you both, who disappeared mysteriously— who wielded a huge execution blade. a vivid image of you being slaughtered by said blade flash through his mind and he shudders, turning to you with a small nod.

“we passed a motel earlier.” he suggests, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you in the direction. you happily follow, resisting the urge to curl into his warmth. days of being by yourself without any warm bodies has you craving this old man you’ve never met before.

“sounds good.” you smiled.

the motels were run down and the rooms were cold. the bed was full of dust, the corners of the room filled with insects and the bulbs flickering. it wasn’t the most comforting place you could be in but it wasn’t the worst, you were grateful you had at least a place to stay.

the mattress creaks underneath your weight as you shift, looking at the brown walls. james shakes the blanket roughly, the dust flying off and into your nose. you cough and he looks at you with an awkward expression, feeling stupid. he mutters a small apology and you give him a little nod, coughing lowly.

he sets the blanket back down and pats the pillows, brushing off the crumbs of who knows. the sound of the fabric wrinkling fills the dark room. you glance at the window and the foggy streets outside of your small room, the dark clouds and the empty parking lot for the motel. you wondered if this place was ever a popular town where people visited often.

he exhales. “you want left side or right?”

you peer over at the bed, blinking slowly.

“ermm, i don’t mind. right?” you say hesitantly. he nods and sits down on his side, stretching his arms momentarily before pulling off his shoes. you keep your staring subtle as he straightens his legs and lays on top of the blanket, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes are glued to the crumbling ceiling, his breath slow.

another creak comes from the mattress as you settle down next to him, keeping a respectable distance. you decide against crawling under the sheets, not wanting to know what lays underneath. a quick glance towards him makes you squirm uncomfortably, your body shiver at the cold. your shoes are kicked off by the edge of the bed frame, thankfully your hoodie is warm enough to give you a small sense of warmth.

silence fills the air. it’s quiet, but if you listen closely you can hear both of your breaths and sound of the harsh winds outside. the snow is getting worse and it’s only growing colder and colder. you shiver.

“james?” you whisper.

“yeah?” he responds breathlessly, surprised you’re speaking to him. his voice is rushed, almost like he’s scared he’ll forget what to say. he’s nervous around you, anxious.

“uhm,” you start hesitantly, “mary.. what happened to her?”

he struggles to answer for a moment, feeling his stomach churn at the reminder of his late wife. he missed mary, he missed her warmth and how she used to hold him at night. her soft voice still echoes in his head at night, haunting him for the unforgivable act he had committed to her.

“she got sick.” he forces out, his own words feeling bitter in his tongue. he tells himself in his head that she passed away in her sleep, that he awoke one day from deep slumber and got a call from the hospital, that he had nothing to do with it—. but the small voice in the back of his head knows better.

“she had skin cancer. fatal. only had a few months to live.” his eyes drift towards you and takes in your facial expression. how it softens and you gaze at him in sympathy, sympathy he doesn’t deserve. you were too sweet, too gullible. why were you even sleeping in the same bed with a man you just met?

“i’m so sorry.” you say under your breath, offering a look of sorrow. the thought of this gentle man losing his wife sounded horrible to you. he seemed loving, the type of husband who wouldn’t think twice about walking the seven seas for his wife. in a way, he was. here he was, in silent hill, looking for his wife. you respected that.

“it’s okay. she died three years ago.” he sighed heavily, turning to face you fully. your eyes widen in shock as he states the loss of his wife. why was he here then? looking for a dead woman? his lips tug up into a dry smile at the sight of your confused face and huffs quietly.

“i’m not crazy. i swear.” he hums, lifting a hand to gently lift a hair strand off your face. your heart flutters at the touch, watching as he gently twirls your lock with his finger before letting it lay back on your head by your ear. your big eyes blink at him, he blinks back.

“i don’t think you’re crazy.” you state softly.

he raises a brow in question.

“you’re just hopeful.”

his breath hitches at your statement. he can’t help but realize how young and bright you really are, you still have that light in your eyes he lost three years ago. what he would do for a night of happiness.

he slowly inches closer, eyes drifting down to your soft lips. they look just like hers. soft and plump, bottom lip slightly bigger then upper lip, a baby pink. he can’t help but imagine if you’d taste like her too. she tasted like peaches.

his movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and neither does his lingering gaze on your lips. your breath slows as he slowly leans in, one hand going to gently cup your soft cheek. he holds you carefully, scared he would break you if he squeezed too hard. like a fragile vase. you were so fragile in his arms.

“are you gonna kiss me?” you exhale shakily, looking as the man props himself on top of you with lust-filled stare.

“i don’t wanna hurt you.” he mumbles softly, running his finger down your cheek before letting it brush against your bottom lip, letting it tug slightly before he resumes his spit on your cheek.

“you could never hurt me, james.”

if only he could tell you how wrong you were.

as his lips press against yours, he concludes that you don’t taste like peaches, but more like blueberries. a deep midnight blue that exploded over him, tainting his clothes as you weakly tug him closer. your soft moan sends a shiver down his spine as he whines against your lips, pressing his body against yours.

you moan his name as he parts his lips from you, making him groan lowly at the sound of your voice. he wasted no time and smashes his lips back against yours, swallowing your erotic noises and letting them fall down into his crotch. he pressed his hips against yours and shuddered instantly, almost jolting at the friction.

he hadn’t feel the touch of another woman in years. now don’t get him wrong, he fisted his cock almost every day, he had a high sexual drive but with no one to help him(anymore.) he tries not to feel embarrassed as he rocks his clothed dick against you, whimpering into your neck like horny teenager.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he rambled with eyes squeezed shut, hissing as your warm thighs wrap around his waist to tug him closer. he could probably finish in his boxers if he continued, he knew he was pathetic enough to be capable. but he wanted to feel you, and that made him feel so guilty. did he even deserve you? after comparing you to mary countless times and exploiting your innocence?

“i-it’s okay, please— james,” you moan. his hands dig into your waist before they start wandering your smaller body, placing themselves around the waistband of your shirt. he gives you a pleading look, bottom lip quivering pathetically.

“please, i need you so bad. i’m so sorry.” he whines, his voice shaky. you gasp at his words, a small yelp leaving you as he tugs your skirt down roughly and reveals your panties to the motel rooms dusty air. you were glad you had put on one of your newer pairs instead of those older ones in the back of your closet.

your eyes widen in shock as he wastes no time to pull your panties to the side, the cold air brushing against your pussy shamelessly. your nipples harden underneath your hoodie and you whine weakly, lips squirming. you needed friction.

“you’re so wet.” he mutters to himself in amazement, running his finger across your lower lips and circling your hole lightly, admiring the slickness and how you clench around nothing, eagerly waiting to suck him in. his eyes are glued to your body as he slowly sinks his finger into you till his knuckle, relishing in your soft sigh.

“s’for you.” you coo softly, fluttering your lashes at him. he inhales deeply and nods, mumbling something under his breath as he wiggles his finger. he feels a particular gummy spot inside your warm insides towards the back that has you immediately clenching down and he groans, remembering how mary used to reacted to his touch. you both were so similar that it was killing him inside.

he pushes his finger pad against you harshly as he connects his lips with your clit, gently sucking your bundle and nerves and making you feel like you’re on fire. you whine needingly at the pleasure shooting through your body as your feet dig into the creaky mattress, small moans leaving your throat. he hums into your pussy, not separating, set on making you orgasm on his face. he wants to taste you.

a few more sucks and slow rubs against your inner walls has you clamping down and jolting underneath him, feeling the knot in your tummy snap and release all over his mouth and fingers. a thin sticky coat of cum covers his fingers, little drops falling from his chin. he pulls away with a low sigh, licking your juices from his fingers, all while maintaining eye contact with you. your breath hitches at the movement of his tongue around his slender fingers, watching how he lapped your cum and swallowed it down. you whimpered softly for him.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you take in the sight of him kneeling over you, unzipping his jeans and shrugging off his dark jacket, letting it drop to the corner of the mattress. he positions himself above you, caging you in. for a man with such a soft and comforting presence, his body caging you in made you feel so small and vulnerable. his breath gently brushed against your face as he leans into your neck, humming to himself as his cock springs free.

you gulp nervously at the sight of him. he wasn’t too big, but he definitely wasn’t small. slightly above average with a pink tip, nice girth and a soft curve. he was so pretty, his pubic hair rough and growing into his v-line. you held onto him hungrily as he pushed his tip against you slightly, watching your expression and how you react to him slowly pushing inside you.

“easyyyy.” he hushed, pressing his forehead against yours to be able to watch your face morph into a blissful expression first hand, to be able to watch as you moaned at the feeling of him slowly sinking inside you. your legs subconsciously bend at the knee, curving and wrapping around his waist in a poor attempt to push him deeper.

good thing he can read your body language. his hands go to wrap around your wrists, holding you down as he presses his body more into yours, whimpering under his breath as your tight walls surrounds him. it felt like a warm hug to him, something he had missed.

small thrusts turn into deep strokes, sliding in and out of your pussy at a smooth rate. his noises are hot, guttural and raw from the depths of his throat, his face scrunched up in concentration as he hovers above you. his hips keep up its pace, a small squelching sound filling the cheap motel room. your noises are music to his ears as he groans lowly, watching his your tight pussy engulfs him so snuggly, how your breasts gently bounce as he moves his cock deeper into you— he was already addicted.

both your noises grow more consistent the longer you two go at it for, the heavy panting and the mattress creaking, the soft plap plap plap, the whispers and praises. his body stiffened as he felt his orgasm near, cock only hardening as he focused on chasing the sweet release he missed so much.

“you’re so good.” he whispers into your ear, tugging you as close as possible. you nod weakly and rake your hands through his ashy hair, tugging at the strands weakly. his tip smushes against your cervix and you whine into his ear, pleading for him to make you cum. he listens, reaching a down down for your clit, rubbing tight circles as you clamp down on him and cum all over his cock. he gasps meekly at the sensation of getting his dick even more wet, cumming himself.

his load is warm as he shoots it into you, his head immediately ducking for shelter in the crook of your neck. he clings onto you as he slowly comes down from the high of his orgasm, his body subtly trembling in your arms. you gently shush him, muttering small praises into his ear, rubbing your palm up and down his toned arms. your body is warm enough for him to fall sleepy. he nuzzled into you as he falls asleep, his thoughts drifting to mary. he snores softly.

[blackenedsnow]

sonic x reader attempting a suicide? i’m having a terrible time and would just like some love from my comfort character. its okay if this makes you uncomfortable.

caught in the wind

WARNING: Suicidal thoughts, mental health struggles, suicide attempt

PAIRING: Sonic The Hedgehog x Suicidal! Reader

NOTE: I hope this was helpful for you. I sincerely hope everything is okay and I want you all to know that I care for all of you and that I am always here to talk. Take care of yourself. I know how it feels so I didn’t try sugarcoating it and made it as realistic as I could.

SUMMARY: While out on a run, Sonic spots something unsettling—one of his closest friends standing at the edge of a cliff, contemplating a jump.

The wind rushed past Sonic’s ears as he dashed through Green Hill, the familiar blur of trees, loops, and waterfalls passing in his peripheral. It was one of those days where everything felt a little lighter—perfect weather, nothing chasing him, and no Eggman in sight. It was just him, the wind, and the thrill of the open road.

As he zipped along the cliffs that bordered the coastline, something odd caught his eye. At first, he dismissed it—just a figure standing at the edge of the rocks, back turned to the world. But something in the way they were standing—rigid, unmoving, staring down into the water below—made his heart skip a beat.

Wait. He knew that silhouette.

Sonic skidded to a halt, sending a puff of dust into the air. He rubbed his eyes with his gloved hands, making sure he wasn’t seeing things. But no, it really was you, Y/N, his friend. And you weren’t just looking out over the ocean for the view. No, something about your posture, the way your shoulders slumped, the way you didn’t seem to notice him approaching, sent alarm bells ringing in his head.

Sonic frowned, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He knew you’d been going through a rough patch lately, but…was it really that bad..? He prayed and hoped you were just admiring the view.

"Hey!" Sonic called, voice casual but firm. "Whatcha doing up there? Pretty cool view, huh?"

No answer.

His heart rate sped up, unease prickling at the back of his neck. Slowly, he started walking toward you, his steps uncharacteristically slow. Sonic never slowed down—he always kept moving, but something in the air made him tread carefully.

As he got closer, he could hear your soft breaths, shaky and uneven, like you were trying to hold something back.

"Hey, you okay?" Sonic asked, his voice softer now, more serious.

Still nothing.

That’s when you moved.

Without a word, you leaned forward—so fast, too fast—and before Sonic could even process what was happening, you jumped.

His instincts kicked in before his brain could. In a split second, Sonic launched himself off the cliff, wind roaring in his ears, reaching out with everything he had. Time seemed to slow down, and all he could hear was the rush of his own heartbeat, the thunder of the ocean beneath the two of you, and the desperate pounding in his chest.

Faster. He had to go faster.

Just as you were about to touchdown, Sonic’s arms reached out, wrapping around you in mid-air, his grip tight and unwavering. With a grunt of effort, he twisted his body, redirecting your fall, and landed hard on a ledge just below the cliff, skidding to a stop against the rough rock.

You trembled in his arms, silent sobs shaking your body. Sonic held you tightly, trying to steady his own racing heartbeat.

"Gotcha," he breathed, his voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves below. "I’ve gotcha…"

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Sonic just held you, feeling the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath, the way you curled in on yourself as if trying to disappear.

"What were you thinking..?" Sonic’s voice cracked, and he winced at how small it sounded. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be the fast one, the one who always had a plan, always knew what to say. But right now, he felt as lost as you did.

You shook your head, tears streaking down your face. "I-I don’t know…I just…I couldn’t…"

Sonic felt a knot form in his throat, and he tightened his grip, making sure you knew he was there, that he wasn’t letting go.

"Look, I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now," Sonic said, his voice steadying. "But I do know one thing: I’m not letting you go. You’re not doing this alone, okay? I’m here. We’re all here. And we’re gonna figure this out."

You sobbed harder, your fists clutching the fabric of Sonic’s gloves as if he were the only thing tethering you to the world.

"You’re not alone," Sonic repeated, his voice soft but firm. "You’ve got me. You’ve got everyone who cares about you. I know things look bad right now, but trust me, we’ll make it through this. You’ll make it through this."

Slowly, your sobs began to quiet, though the weight of your pain still hung in the air like a storm cloud. But you hadn’t let go of Sonic. And he wasn’t about to let go of you.

Sonic sighed, glancing up at the cliff. He’d have to figure out how to climb back up, but that could wait.

For now, he was just grateful he’d been there in time.

A few days after the incident, the weight of it hasn’t left your chest. If anything, the guilt has only gotten worse. Every time you close your eyes, you feel that awful drop in your stomach again—the moment you jumped, the moment you gave up. And then Sonic’s arms, pulling you back, holding on like his life depended on it, when it was yours that was on the line.

You’re sitting in your room now, staring at the floor. The blankets are piled up on your bed, untouched, and the gifts Sonic’s been bringing lie scattered around—plushies, snacks, even some weird gadgets he thought might cheer you up. But none of it really matters. The shame sits heavy in your gut, a constant reminder that you nearly threw everything away. That you almost made Sonic witness something unforgivable.

You didn’t tell anyone. You couldn’t. And, surprisingly, Sonic hasn’t either. You had made him promise that day, and he didn’t even hesitate. “I won’t tell a soul,” he had said, his tone serious in a way that made you believe him instantly.

But the price for that silence is the weight of knowing what you did. And Sonic’s visits—while comforting—only seem to make you feel worse. He shows up almost every day, pretending like nothing’s wrong, acting like his usual upbeat self. He’ll burst into your room with a grin, tossing some random gift onto your bed like he’s just come back from one of his adventures.

“Hey! Got you something else!” he’d say, as if that could somehow fix the cracks in your soul.

You know he means well. He’s trying. But every time you see that bright smile, it’s like a reminder that you’re letting him down. That he’s doing everything he can to pull you out of this pit, and you’re still stuck at the bottom, too ashamed to climb up.

Today’s no different. The sun is barely past noon when you hear the familiar tap-tap-tap on your window. You don’t look up. You don’t need to. You already know it’s him.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, his voice gentle but still carrying that hint of his usual energy.

You shake your head, even though you don’t feel ready. Sonic opens the window and slides in with ease, immediately noticing the mess of unopened gifts around your room.

“Man, I’ve really been overdoing it, huh?” He chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “I just… thought maybe some of this stuff would make you smile.”

You want to tell him that it’s not the gifts, that it’s not him, that nothing he does could fix what’s broken inside you. But the words stick in your throat, and all you manage is a weak, “You didn’t have to…”

“Hey, it’s no big deal. I like doing it,” Sonic says quickly, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “I know it’s not easy, what you’re going through. But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out.”

We’ll figure this out. He always said that. Every time he came over.

You glance at him, biting your lip. The guilt tightens in your chest. You know he’s doing everything he can. He’s Sonic the Hedgehog, after all—the hero, the one who always saves the day. But this time, you’re not sure if you can be saved.

“I don’t deserve it,” you mumble, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “I… I don’t deserve any of this.”

Sonic’s smile falters, and he looks at you with a seriousness that makes your stomach twist.

“Don’t say that,” he says, his voice quieter now. “You’re worth it. No matter how bad things feel, or how much you think you’re not—you are. I don’t just show up because I feel sorry for you. I’m here because you’re important to me.”

The words hit you harder than you expect, and you have to look away, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this much shame and relief at the same time.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Sonic’s hand rests gently on your shoulder, and for once, he’s not trying to cheer you up or brush things off with a joke. He’s just… there.

“You don’t have to fix it all at once,” he says softly. “We’ll take it one step at a time. And when you fall, I’ll be there to catch you, just like before. You don’t have to do this alone.”

The tears spill over, and you can’t stop them this time. You feel Sonic’s arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you into a comforting hug. You’ve felt so lost for so long, but right now, in this moment, with him holding you, you feel something you haven’t in a while—a little bit of hope.

It’s small, fragile, but it’s there.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Bound By You

Domme!Maria Hill x subby!fem!reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bondage, D/s dynamics, light BDSM, begging, overstimulation, degradation

Authors notes: I've never written Maria Hill before so I hope I did her justice

Maria stands tall beside the bed, her presence alone commanding your attention. Her stern, authoritative gaze sweeps over your body as she begins to bind your wrists. The ropes are soft against your skin, yet firm as she ties them with practiced precision. You can feel the coolness of her fingers brush against you with each knot she secures, the tension in the ropes building with every pass.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Maria says, her voice low and velvety, tinged with approval. She tilts her head slightly, her eyes locking onto yours, making it impossible to look away. You feel the heat of her gaze travel down your body, and your breath hitches in response. “Stay still,” she commands, her words sharp but intimate, pulling you further under her control.

Once your wrists are secured to the headboard, Maria steps back to admire the sight of you. Bound, vulnerable, completely hers. The corner of her mouth lifts in a slight smirk as she traces her fingers down the length of your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Her touch is teasing, light, yet purposeful. “You look perfect like this,” she murmurs, her voice rich with satisfaction, but there's an edge of possessiveness behind her words that makes your pulse quicken.

She takes her time, circling the bed with slow, deliberate steps, letting the anticipation build. The room feels charged, every second ticking by with an intensity that leaves you trembling beneath her watchful eyes. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” Maria asks, her tone deceptively calm. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she speaks, sending a shiver down your spine. “Everything I want.”

Her hands roam across your body, lingering on your thighs, your hips, your chest, but never quite giving you the relief you crave. Each touch is calculated, designed to make you squirm in the bindings, yearning for more. Yet Maria holds back, savoring your desperation. “Patience,” she whispers, her fingers lightly tracing the ropes that hold you captive, a silent reminder that you’re completely under her control.

When she finally stops at your side, Maria's hand trails down to your chin, lifting your face to meet her gaze once more. There's a softness in her eyes now, just a flicker, but it's enough to remind you of the tenderness that lies beneath her dominant exterior. “You trust me, don’t you?” she asks, though it’s not really a question. She already knows the answer. Her thumb brushes against your lower lip as she continues, her voice a quiet, commanding hum. “Good girl.”

Maria moves between your legs with deliberate intent, her presence powerful and unwavering. The mattress dips beneath her weight, and your breath catches as her thigh presses firmly between yours. You feel her warmth radiating through your body as she pushes herself against you, the friction igniting a spark of need deep within you.

Your back arches involuntarily, hips instinctively lifting to meet her. The ropes around your wrists pull tight as your hands tug against the restraints, but there's no escape. You’re completely at her mercy, and the sensation only amplifies the tension building between you.

Maria watches your every reaction, her sharp gaze never leaving your face. A smirk curls at the corner of her lips as she feels your body respond to her. "Struggling already?" she teases, her voice low and sultry. Her thigh presses harder, moving slowly, deliberately, as if daring you to beg for more. "You’re not going anywhere."

Her hands glide over your hips, fingers digging in just enough to leave an impression, to remind you who’s in control. She moves with precision, pushing you closer to the edge but never quite giving you the satisfaction you crave. The slow, measured grind of her body against yours is intoxicating, leaving you panting and pulling harder on the restraints, your need for release overwhelming.

“Look at you,” Maria murmurs, her voice soft but laced with dominance. “So desperate. So eager.” She leans down, her lips brushing just shy of your own, teasing, never giving in to your silent plea. “Do you want more?” Her words are a command disguised as a question, her breath hot against your skin.

You nod, your body trembling beneath her, every nerve alive and pulsing with need. But Maria doesn’t give in just yet. Her thigh withdraws slightly, the loss of contact making you whimper, but she keeps you on edge, her lips grazing your neck, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

“Good girls ask,” she whispers against your ear, her tone dripping with control.

"Please Ma'am can I cum? Please allow me to cum for you." You beg of her.

Maria's smirk deepens as she hears your desperate plea, the sound of your voice trembling with need. Her fingers trail up your neck, lingering just beneath your chin as she tilts your head back, forcing you to meet her eyes. “Please, Ma’am?” she repeats, her voice a slow, teasing purr. The way she says it makes your stomach twist in anticipation, a reminder of just how much control she has over you.

You nod frantically, your body trembling as you pull against the restraints. “Please, Ma’am… can I cum? Please allow me to cum,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper as you look up at her, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

For a moment, Maria says nothing, simply watching the desperation in your eyes as you writhe beneath her. Her thumb brushes across your lower lip, and she leans in close, her lips hovering just over yours but never touching. The tension between you feels unbearable, and the slightest brush of her skin against yours sends waves of desire coursing through your body.

"You’re so eager," she muses softly, her lips ghosting over your ear as she speaks. "So desperate to be good for me." Her thigh presses against you again, the pressure just enough to send you spiraling, but still, she holds back.

“I could make you wait longer,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost a threat, but there’s a gleam in her eyes that suggests otherwise. Her hand moves down to grip your hip, holding you in place as her body moves against yours, slowly, agonizingly. “But since you asked so sweetly…”

Maria’s lips finally press against yours, firm and demanding, swallowing the moan that escapes your throat as her thigh grinds harder between your legs. “Go ahead,” she whispers against your lips, her voice dark with command. “Cum for me.”

Your body trembles violently as Maria’s command settles into you, a wave of heat rushing through every nerve. The instant she gives you permission, you feel your control slip away. Your back arches, head pressing into the pillow as your entire body goes white-hot, the intensity of it overwhelming. Your vision blurs, the edges of the room fading into a dizzying haze as you surrender completely to the release she's allowed.

"Thank you, Ma'am!" you gasp, voice breaking as you feel the overwhelming rush wash over you, your words almost drowned by the pounding in your ears. Your hands pull at the restraints, muscles tightening in response to the intensity surging through you. Even as you come undone beneath her, the gratitude spills from your lips like a mantra, "Thank you, thank you, Ma'am..."

Maria watches you closely, a satisfied gleam in her eyes as you shake in the aftermath of your release. Her hand remains steady on your hip, grounding you as you ride out the waves, her touch a reminder that she’s in complete control, even now. “That’s it,” she whispers, her voice low and soothing, though still laced with the commanding edge that made your body obey. “Good girl.”

Her fingers trace delicate patterns over your skin, allowing you to catch your breath. She doesn't release you from the bindings just yet, but the pressure eases as her thumb gently strokes the inside of your wrist. Even in your dizzy, hazy state, her control is ever-present, a constant reminder of her dominance—and your submission.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congrats on 5k!!!

I love little off-duty tidbits about the 141. What they get up to when they’re not on a mission, what do they do for fun on base, what do they do in their private time etc.

—Count The Hours

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞

John Price: Reading ➺

It was no secret that John liked to indulge in quiet time whenever he got the chance. Always surrounded by soldiers and hurling orders eventually got to even the most skilled Captain—he was no different even if he’d been at this for countless years. 

On the days when the silent sounds of the house were able to be appreciated for what they were: the running of the laundry, the small creak of the kitchen cabinet that needed to be oiled, and the sound of your soft humming, it was a sacred turn of events. Such mundane, and normally labeled nuisances, were an excellent backdrop for the words on the page of his book that flew from the paper. Scenes unfolded from times and places long past; everything was separate. A perfect way for the mind to unwind. 

You pass by silently as John reads, kissing his forehead when he grunts in pleasure. The man lets his fingers brush your thigh as you move off to do whatever you wish. He knew you’d join him eventually. 

Reading was good, but nothing quite beat the perfect distraction that was you. 

John flips a page and absentmindedly itches at his beard.

Simon Riley: People Watching ➺

“I bet she works in a cafe,” you mutter softly. “Look at her clothes—those are cafe clothes. Gorgeous.”

Brown eyes blink at the woman in a long skirt and a neat blouse, coffee cup in hand as she walks the ground before disappearing around a bend. 

“What are bloody ‘cafe clothes’?” Simon grunts, giving you a strange look from over his balaclava. The bench you two sit on is far removed into the trees of the park, and you smile as you lean into the man and intertwine your fingers with his, stealing his body heat. 

“I can’t explain it,” you wave your free hand as Simon chuckles lowly. “Your turn.”

“Pick one for me,” he grumbles. You point to a man dressed sharply from across the path, bending down and tying his shoe as a child plays with their mother near a picnic basket and blanket. Your lips twitch into a smile. 

“Accountant,” Simon says easily, squeezing your hand as he blinks slowly, casual with his guesses. “Child’s birthday—he’ll ‘ave to go in soon.”

“Really?” You chuff under your breath. Simon hums, vision sliding about as his thumb runs over your knuckles. “I guessed a hitman.” 

The man at your side looks down once more. “You what?”

Johnny MacTavish: Hiking ➺

The both of you are covered in dirt and sweat, lying on your backs with your packs about a foot or so away; lungs working inside of your chests as you smile like fools. 

“Remind me to let you carry me back,” you pant, chuckling as the form beside you rubs at his face—pushing back the grime. Nature is all around you two, the grass behind your bones and the open sky above your heads. Johnny and you rest for a short while on top of the hill, the wind picking up from the East but not so to an unmanageable degree. 

It had been on a whim to come out here on such short notice, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t enjoyable. 

Johnny always made hiking trips enjoyable. 

“Aye,” he laughs. “Don’t worry, Dearie, I’ll manage.” A moment of shared smiles passes between you two—you reach out and push at his cheek teasingly.

Johnny chuckles and grabs at your wrist, bringing it back and laying a firm kiss on the palm that leaves your already hot cheeks burning. 

“Ready to keep going?” You’re asked delicately, those cobalt eyes crinkled with love. 

“Oh, if I must,” you tease. 

The man kisses you once more before standing, offering you a hand without a second thought through a gentle smirk.

Kyle Garrick: Cooking/Baking ➺

Kyle’s rolled-up sleeves are pushed back even more as he hums under his breath, the gentle jazz filling the room to mix with the scent of fresh bread and stew. You rest your head on the island table of your shared flat, watching as the man glances back at you and your arm pillow.

He chuckles. 

“You don’t have to watch, Love.”

“Want to,” you mutter, eyes soft. The man’s smile turns sheepish as he glances away.

The man adds what he needs and says over his shoulder cheekily as you blink. “Well come on then, I’ll need you to taste test. Tell me what it needs.”

You chuckle and stand, walking over and sliding up beside him as Kyle takes a spoon and brings some of the broth to your lips. Your hand cups under the utensil, sipping it down. 

You hum under your breath, glancing at him. 

“It’s delicious, Kyle,” your fingers go to steal the spoon, but it’s moved away from you swiftly with a teasing tsk of his tongue. 

“Ah, ah—it’s not done,” the man beams, kissing your cheek and putting the spoon down. “Patience, Love.” 

“C’mon,” you lean into him, looking up into his face. 

Instead, a kiss is pressed to your lips, making you melt as a hand comes to circle your waist. 

Kyle leans back, smirking as he licks his lips.

“More salt,” he mutters, pulling back and disappearing into the pantry as you gape after his tall form.

[bonniebird]

Summary: When Rhaenyra summons the dragon seed to try and claim more dragons she is hesitant to allow Daemon's bastard to try but Baela is quick to advocate for her sister's right to try and claim a dragon. After years of attempting to take the girl from her adoptive family, under the impression that they were using her for their own gain, Rhaenyra finally manages to make headway with (Y/N).

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Bastard!Targ!Reader / Baela Targaryen x Bastard!Targ!FemReader

Read on Wattpad

Read on AO3

Rhaenyra paused as she spoke. It caused her to stutter and she had to quickly guard herself and continue with her speech as a half smile flickered over her face. She had hoped that perhaps the girl would come. Though she had doubted it. Over the years she had tried to convince the family that took the girl in to give her to Daemon.

Daemon had always agreed that if she wished for the girl to live on Dragonstone that he would support Rhaenyra’s wish. There had been no rush beyond the girl's wish to meet their sister and Rhaenyra’s conviction that it was the right thing to do. Neither she or Daemon ever said it out loud but since her father had died both had a silent fear that the girl would claim a dragon or egg and join the usurpers in the Red Keep. When Rhaenyra finished she turned to the girl who was moving with the crowd towards the dragon pit. A hand grabbed at her arm and held her in place.

“Baela?!” She said in quiet surprise.

“I have seen her too.” Baela said and nodded to the figure vanishing between taller silhouettes. “She has too much of my father in her to be a stranger.”

“Then you understand that I have to stop her…” Rhaenyra started but Baela gave her a distasteful look.

“Why should she be robbed of a birthright that may be hers? She knows the risk. You and Daemon helped Rhaena try to claim the same dragons.” Baela was firm and confident as she spoke with the authority of the future queen consort.

“I have lost enough children.” Rhaenyra said softly and Baela pulled back with a sigh.

“She will never be one of us if you stop her.” Baela warned and Rhaenyra reluctantly gave in.

As she called Vermithor forward and gave her second speech she couldn’t help but look at you over and over as if every face in the room had become yours. It took Baela glaring at her from the doorway to have her move forward as she had originally planned.

The claiming was awful. Despite her guards begging her to leave, Rhaenyra stayed and searched the faces of the bodies. There was a small part of her that wanted each one of them to be you. The part of her that was wounded by your rejection of her attempts to herd you among her fledgling dragon children. The mother dragon within her was sickly pleased when careful inspection allowed her to be sure that none of the fallen were you. At least not yet.

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

Breath ripped at your throat as you ducked behind a large rock. Sweat clung to your body unpleasantly and soaked into your clothes. The rock dug into your back, burning as if it were on fire. The large dragon surged forward and you managed to dart behind it before it finished eating whoever it had tossed into the air. From the corner of your eye you saw a man running towards a tunnel. Glancing towards the platform you realised that to get out that way, you would have to pass the dragon and avoid it while climbing up. With a nod to yourself, you pushed off the rock and ran as fast as you could towards the tunnel. You managed to pass the man only to have to duck under a torrent of fire that made the air ripple with unbearable heat that made your head throb and ache.

“Move kid!” The man said and collided with you. Because of your crouched position, you lost your balance and he sent you rolling and thumping down a large hill of rock and bones. Each thump and bump shot you deeper into the cave and you ended up landing on hard stone with a pained grunt. The sound of your pain caused, what you had thought was a rock, to turn quickly and screech at you. With a panicked cry you pushed up onto your elbows and crawled backwards as the dragon clawed its way towards you. It was much smaller than the other dragon. It seemed uncertain of you which allowed you to get halfway up the death-strewn hill that you had fallen down. But with each crawled step backwards, the dragon came forward. It screeched at you and you snatched at the skull of some small animal that lay among loose rocks. Throwing it, there was a satisfying hollow sound as it smacked into the dragon's head causing it to shake itself. Taking the advantage you turned and scrambled desperately up the hill and into the open space. There was an angry sound behind you and you felt the unsteady ground vibrate the smaller dragon dove towards you but twisted in the air to avoid a spout of flames and the swing of a massive tail. You found yourself colliding with hot-scaled flesh and the flash of an eye passing yours. There was a long pause and when whatever was obscuring your view moved you found a familiar man standing before the massive beast. Something gently nudged your elbow and you let out a startled yell as you found the smaller dragon next to you. Stumbling as you found your feet you found the dragon allowed you to lean your weight on its snout and it cooed softly at you. Reaching out a gentle, hesitant hand, you stroked the dragon's snout and smiled. Warm air puffed out over your body as the dragon blinked and continued to make soft noises.

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

“Hugh.” You said and smiled as the man turned to you. The guard who had led you to a room quickly left and you found yourself embraced by the blacksmith.

“(Y/N)! Child. Of course, you survived.” He smiled and held your head in his large hands. Your smaller hand rested on his.

“I am sorry. About your daughter. My mother wanted us to come and help but the Hightowers… They took my brothers and forced my father to work his men to death. We were too afraid.” You said quietly. Hugh’s face creased as he frowned and he nodded.

“The guilt is not yours to bear. In times like these, we do as we must. But I appreciate it all the same.” Hugh said wisely and stepped away from you. He bowed his head and when you turned you found the dragon queen and her son waiting for the two of you.

“With you in our ranks, the Hightowers will not be able to continue their tyranny. Your true father will ride his dragon from Harrenhall and avenge those that were wronged.” Rhaenyra said and smiled as she reached out to you. She moved to embrace you as Hugh had. 

“My true father.” You spat out and she froze. The boy behind her clutched the sword on his hip until his knuckles went white. “My true father is the master builder of King’s Landing. He risks his life helping people escape the city.”

“I meant no offence.” Rhaenyra said quickly. You glared at her and turned to Hugh.

“We should go back home.” You said in a much gentler tone. Hugh went to speak but he was cut off.

“You would align yourself with the usurpers!? Are you so disloyal?” The prince accused.

“I would burn down the gates of the city so that my family can escape! I came here simply to find a way to defend myself. Now I have it. I did not swear oaths to any of you.” You snapped at him. His face twisted and Rhaenyra moved to calm him but he had already stepped closer and jabbed a finger towards you.

“You belong to a great legacy! Your father’s blood has given you that dragon!” He shouted. He allowed himself to be pulled backwards and away from you. 

“Consider it a debt that my sire owed my parents.” You said and then gave a sarcastic half-bow. “With all due respect.” With that, you left the room. The corridors were complicated but it didn’t take long to find the front doors. 

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

Reaching the docks of Dragonstone you realised that you had no way of getting home. The dragon from earlier landed not too far away and watched you curiously, croaking and humming. A green dragon of similar size landed next to it and a familiar-looking girl got down from the saddle on its back.

“You won't survive. They have weapons large enough to kill a dragon that size.” She said as she pointed at the dragon. In the daylight, you could see that the dragon was black and grey with occasional specks of gold and red. “That’s if you don’t come up against Vhagar.” As she spoke the girl approached and took off a set of leather gloves. She held out her hand which you didn’t take.

“I know who you are and I won't change my mind.” You muttered and looked around to see if any of the people around the docks owned the boats in the water.

“I am not here to change your mind. Simply to warn you. I am sorry. For what Jace said.” She said and looked at you hopefully. You reached in your pocket. Your family had given you three gold pieces. Almost all of their money left after the blockade made the price of food skyrocket. You doubted it would be enough to pay anyone to take you home.

“It’s kind of you to pretend you care.” You said genuinely. Baela frowned and scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“You are the one that rejects us.” She snapped. You turned, stepping towards her with a stride that belonged to your father.

“Me? You all leave me to suffer and beg on the streets as an infant and then when you need me you demand that I turn my back on the family that struggled and fought to raise me.” You seethed, not seeing the golden dragon gliding down the beach towards the docks. “You all act as if I am wrong to want to go back and save them. They gave everything to save me! They thought… that HE would be here. Of course not. The royal whore wouldn’t be here. You want the dragon?! Keep it!” You shouted at Baela whose eyes were watering as she tried to keep calm.

“Enough! Baela, take Moondancer to patrol the beach.” Rhaenyra said as she reached the two of you. She looked down at the floor and fled. You sniffed and rubbed your eyes and nose on your sleeve and turned away from Rhaenyra. Looking up to dissipate your tears you waited to be scolded or shouted at or imprisoned.

“I am sorry.” Rhaenyra’s words startled you enough to have you turn to look at her sharply.

“What?” The quiet reply hung in the air for a moment.

“I… I have found a great deal of comfort in being a mother. I know where I stand with Baela and Rhaena. But I. I have misstepped with you. And I am sorry.”

“You offered to buy me from my parents. I remember.” You said and her eyes widened as you stared at her blankly.

“I had been told that you were adopted into a family that was struggling. That your life with them was paid for by your working for them.” Rhaenyra said softly and blinked several times. “I was misinformed?”

“Yes!” A tear-heavy sigh stuttered out of your chest and you sniffed, giving up hiding your pain. “I have been raised no differently from my brothers. Even when they struggled. They even have a dowry for me… some tools and a workhorse. Nothing like a dowry you would have had.”

“A fine. Appropriate offering. For the daughter of a city builder.” Rhaenyra said firmly and sounded as if she would argue that point with anyone who challenged her. “I must beg you not to return to the city. With a dragon of your own, your life will be in danger. We will find a way to help your family.” Rhaenyra waited for an answer and watched you glance up to Moondancer.

“I should not have… she meant well.” You muttered and Rhaenyra let out a light laugh.

“Baela is reasonable. Very clever and loving. If you make an effort to make amends she will forgive.” Rhaenyra advised. She watched you glance to the sea towards King’s Landing as if you could see it and your family waiting for you. “We must decide how to repay your parents.”

“What do you mean?” You asked dubiously. She had crept up on you almost silently. Moving forward, you could almost see the urge to take up your hand in hers battling with her self-control.  

“I have been disrespectful. Your family worked hard for my father’s city. They took on and raised the child of a prince as their own. They have done well.” At that, you scoffed and she smiled a little before continuing. “A lordship perhaps.”

“No. My father will never accept it. Not unless he has worked for it. But… he has petitions. Part of the city is sinking and it needs to expand. He needs more men and funds.” You explained and Rhaenyra frowned.

“My father did not hear these petitions?” Rhaenyra said as the two of you walked together away from the dock and towards the dragons. Syrax sniffed at the smaller dragon who cooed and submitted to her as if dazzled by her golden scales.

“My mother said the Hightowers have been ruling long before the king died. The queen always dismissed him. Or her father did anyway.” You confessed and Rhaenyra nodded.

“Very well. I will ensure that I hear him. Perhaps I should need a man like him on my council once I take King’s Landing. But… I would like to. To legitimise you.” Rhaenyra stopped short when you froze and stared at her.

“Will I have to leave my family?” You asked. She sighed and shook her head.

“No. I do not think it will be necessary. they may reside with you in the Red Keep. If they wish. But… It does not sit well with me to allow my husband to neglect you. We are partners where he falls short. I must make up.” Rhaenyra said firmly. You gave her a dubious look but said nothing. You had nothing but snide comments to say about the man.

“I do not know what to say.” You said eventually.

“Say that you will not go to King’s Landing alone. Allow me to find a way to help. Please.” Rhaenyra said with a smile and finally caved, reaching for your hand. You allowed her to take it, staring down at the strange gentle embrace as Baela landed Moondancer.

“I… will not. I will wait.” You said and glanced at Baela. Rhaenyra let go of your hand and gestured for you to leave. You hurried to Baela who gave you a cold look.

“I am sorry!” You said urgently. She dismounted neatly and patted the dragon’s neck. 

“For someone who has nothing but blood in common with my father. You are certainly just like him.” Baela said cooly as she stepped towards you. She looked at your dragon who trilled at Moondancer who looked rather annoyed at the attention of the young dragon. “What have you named him?”

“He? He doesn’t have one?” You asked. Baela shook her head and started to walk up the beach to a large cave. You watched Rhaenyra take to the air with Syrax before looking back at Baela who had stopped to wait for you.

“He was born… shortly before I was. Rhaenyra upset my father. She said he was yours.” She smiled at you and you hurried to keep up with her.

“I don’t know what I should call him. You know more about them than I… what do you think?” You asked. She laughed and glanced back at the dragons who were in the air, gliding over the water together.

“That is your choice. But perhaps I should teach you what I know of being a rider. My grandmother was a great dragon rider.” Baela sighed and continued walking. “I had heard that. She was kind too. Baela I am sorry. I should not have…” You started and she stopped.

“Our father… my… father. Daemon. He is a complicated man. Rhaenyra will do her best by us. It is in her nature but Daemon will do as he pleases. But you and I are sisters. We are not our… Daemon. I understand the pain he can cause more than anyone else will. I forgive you. But we must stand together.” She said in a tone that was queen-like in its tone.

“I have never had sisters. Brothers do not tend to stand together.” You said and smiled as you thought of your brother's roughhousing.

“Tell me about them?” Baela asked as she stopped at the mouth of the large cave to watch the dragons ride the low sea winds as they swirled together through the air.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 6

Summary: Reader goes to a stark party to meet some new people.

TW: Drinking, parties (ew), minor blood

Words: 2k

A/n Sorry for the late update my life is chaos.

Looking around at all the people you felt yourself beginning to feel a little insecure. You could pick out most of the people in the room from the TV alone. These weren’t just your average everyday people, these were superhero’s. And despite having powers yourself you still felt like you didn’t belong among legends.

Without realising it you had popped out your fangs, a small habit that displayed your nerves. You did realise it when it nicked your tongue. The coppery taste of blood in your mouth for a second before it healed.

Starting to feel a little overwhelmed Wanda placed a hand on your arm. Her touch was grounding and you were slowly being pulled back out of your own head and back to the party.

“It’s alright if it’s a bit much. It was for my first time as well. Are you ok?” Wanda said quietly to you.

You swallowed and nodded. “I’m alright. Just gimme a sec.”

Steeling your nerves and swallowing down your anxiety you stood a little taller and nodded to Wanda who was silently observing you.

After giving you a moment to adjust Wanda begun shepherding you over to a small group of people. Seemingly taking it upon herself to introduce you to people knowing if it was up to you, you would stay in the corner all night.

Before you had even realised Natasha had left your side she was handing you a drink with a cute little umbrella.

“I figure you liked it a bit fruity.” She said with a wink and your cheeks heated under the glare you shot her as she sipped her vodka martini.

As you arrived in front of the group Wanda seemed to want to introduce you to first, you took a sip of the drink, finding it to be rather good.

Looking around the group Wanda begun introducing you to it was an odd bunch.

“Y/n,” Wanda begun, gesturing to a tall blonde woman in a leather jacket. “This is Carol, or captain Marvel.” Wanda said with a teasing tone as carol rolled her eyes.

“Hi.” You said and Carol smiled warmly at you.

“Nice to meet you Y/n.” Carol said extending a hand which you took. She had a firm handshake and warm but not sweaty hands. The kind but mischievous twinkle in her eyes promised a fun kind of trouble.

“This old man is Nick Fury.” Natasha said clapping a hand on the back of a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch.

“Watch yourself Romanoff.” He said but Nat just smirked. “Nice to meet you kid.” He said extending a hand. After shaking his hand Natasha introduced you to the last person in the group.

“This is Agent Maria Hill.” Nat said elbowing her in the ribs and receiving a heatless glare in response.

“Nice to meet you.” She said giving a welcoming nod to you which you returned.

“So I hear you’re the newest spider in town?” Carol asks smiling at you as she took a swig of her beer.

“Uhhh … yeah.” You said rubbing the back of your neck.

“No need to be so nervous kid, we don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” Carol winked and you smiled back shyly not realising your fangs were out.

“Wow kid. Nice teeth.” Carol said. “Is that a spider thing?” She said looking curious.

“Yeah.” You said putting them away again.

“That’s pretty cool.” Carol said.

“We’re lucky she doesn’t bite.” Wanda said teasingly.

“I dunno,” Nat said rejoining the group with Maria. “I’d let her bite me.” She said with a wink and you choked on the sip you had just taken of your drink.

Coughing as Nat burst out laughing, Wanda pounded your back while Maria was lecturing Natasha in an amused fashion. Carol simply watched with a grin which matched Nats despite being told off.

Fury simply watched with his upper lip twitching as if it wanted to smile but wasn’t allowed which would probably have some level of accuracy to it.

When you regained your composure and your voice, your cheeks were stained with a dark blush.

“So, are you an avenger now kid?” Carol asked.

“I’m not sure.” You said.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to Stark and Rogers about that one.” Fury said looking at you for a reaction. You simply blinked looking at him and only looking away when you realised, he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Either way, welcome to our little bunch. If you ever need anything or just to escape the compound of chaos, give me a call.” Carol said and Maria agreed.

“I’ve only ever seen Nat take a liking to something this fast once before and that was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” Maria said receiving a punch from Nat in the arm replying only with a smirk.

“So, how’d the whole spider thing happen?” Carol asked looking curious.

“I should have said this is y/n Parker.” Wanda said emphasising your last name.

“Like Peter Parker?” Carol asked.

“My little brother.” You clarified with a nod.

“So does being part spider run in the family or did you both do a deal with Satan?” Maria asks and you laughed feeling a bit less anxious now the vibe had changed and there was some alcohol in your blood.

“Peter and I both ended up on the field trip where he got his powers. I was chaperoning and he was … being Peter. Anyways Parker luck and we both got bit by the dumb spider.” You said.

“So you’ve just been keeping a low profile since?” Maria asked.

“Yeah. Something like that. I mean I would take Peter’s old suits for a spin when I could but not too often. Our powers differ a little so I had to play the part and not do some things he couldn’t.” You shrugged sipping your drink again.

“Well it sounds like your well adjusted to it all.” Carol complimented.

You snorted in response. “Adjusted, maybe. Cursed, definitely. What can I say Parker luck is real. I almost got it tattooed once.” You said shrugging.

“Well, it’s been great to see you all again, but I need to take y/n to make the rounds. Learn some new names and see some fresh faces.” Wanda said saying goodbye before dragging you away with her hand clasped tightly around your own.

Natasha lingered with her friends for a little longer while wanda and you were swallowed up into another small group as wanda didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many people at once.

When she came to a stop you were stood in front of a few couches with various familiar faces lounging around talking and laughing.

“Hi honey.” A voice said and you looked over to the blue couch to see Aunt May sat next to Pepper, both holding a glass of white wine.

“Hi Aunt May.” You said feeling a little more comfortable with her around. She always made you feel safe.

“You look amazing sweetheart.” May said.

“I love the dress.” Pepper pitched in and you nodded thanking her.

Pepper patted the seat next to her and you slid into the spot beside her as Natasha appeared from nowhere and handed you a new drink, taking the glass you hadn’t realised was empty.

“Fruity.” Natasha whispered in your ear but this time you swatted her as she disappeared laughing to get herself another drink.

“How many of those have you had?” May asked.

“Not nearly enough to be drunk with my metabolism.” You said rolling your eyes.

“You your brother will drink me out of house and home, and I already feed four enhanced people with the metabolism of fifteen people.” Tony said rolling his eyes.

“Be nice Tony. Plus, Peter can’t even drink yet.” Pepper said swatting his arm.

“Oh right. Yeah, that kids never touching alcohol. I watched him trip over his own feet too many times in the past week to count. I can’t imagine he would be able to even stand if he ever got drunk.” Tony said shaking his head at the idea making you and May laugh.

“Im afraid they both are clumsy.” May said and you groaned scrubbing a hand over your face.

“Really?” Wanda asked her curiosity peaked. “Any good stories?” She asked with a mischievous smirk on her lips.

“Oh, too many to count.” May said laughing and waving a hand to indicate how many.

“Please enlighten us.” Clint said seemingly having appeared from nowhere and plopping himself down on the couch opposite pepper and may. He slung an arm around Tony who promptly shoved him off.

“Personal space birdbrain.” Tony grumbled. “But please, do spill.” He said ignoring pepper protective glare he was receiving.

“Oh, I don’t know…” May said glancing at you as you shook your head pleading with her to drop it. “What about just the flip trip one?” She asked and you swallowed pausing for a second before nodding.

“Fine.” You grumbled as Clint and Tony cheered.

“Whats got feathers and grease monkey so happy?” Nat said sitting down next to Clint.

“Story-time about the Parker’s.” Stark said. “More importantly … embarrassing story time.” He clarified and nat looked at you with a raised brow as you just shook your head and slumped over to bury your face in Wanda’s neck. The alcohol making you slightly more confident and comfortable around them.

“Alright. Well as long as I can recall they have both been clumsy. But there was one time after the spider-bite that their spider sense made it even more interesting. Peter was going into their room and Y/n was heading to the living room. They both must have sensed it because peter tripped over his own feet and before he could land flat on his face, he did a front flip and landed in a crouch with one hand on the ground. Y/n would have been in his way, but she had hopped up and stuck to the ceiling. So, she was hanging on by her fingertips and peter was standing back up as she let go of the roof and fell on top of him.” May said with a chuckle.

Tony’s face was lit up like a kid on Christmas. Pepper was stifling a smile and Nat had snorted into her drink. Wanda was trembling slightly under you as her body shook with suppressed giggles as her hand glided softly through your hair as your face was still buried in her neck hiding.

Clint whistled lowly. “Impressive … yet also not.” He said chuckling to himself.

“ok enough of that.” You whined and May smiled at you softly.

“Alright honey. How about pepper tells us some stories about stark.” May said sharing a mischievous smirk with pepper who immediately grinned at stark who grumbled to himself about betrayal.

As pepper launched into a story about the time the great Tony stark had turned up to a meeting sans pants, May pulled you aside.

“You haven’t told them have you?” She said in a low whisper.

“Told them what?” You mumbled looking at your shoes.

“Come on Y/n. I know its different now but he’s not just your brother. I know it hurts but he’s still your-“

“I know.” You said cutting May off before she could finish and say the word that brought pain to your very soul. “But he’s not May. Not anymore … its different. I had to live without him for five years. It changes you. It changed me.“ you mumbled wishing you had grabbed your drink before this impromptu sidebar.

“They’ll see your file eventually, they will connect the dots. It would be better coming from the two of you if you told them yourselves.” May said taking on a sad almost worried voice.

“I’ll talk to Petey about it.” You said and she rubbed a hand up and down your bicep and offered as small smile.

“Good.” May said before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As the two of you rejoined the group your eyes had a little less of a glint in them. The pain still raw from things you didn’t want to remember.

The battle against Thanos had been somewhat of a sore subject around the tower and you didn’t want to bring up the avengers failure.

The rest of the party was smooth sailing as things began to die down.

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @leenasayeed @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff @idkwhatever580

 

[wileys-russo]

I just got done reading your fic ‘passenger princess’ and I would a another small fic of Y/n actually buying a car or she’s makes Alessia think bought one.

Instead she rented it out for the week and Alessia hates the fact that she doesn’t have her passenger princess. And instead she becomes one for the week and girl tease her about to.

(Please only write if you want!)

passenger princess ficlet II a.russo x reader

little follow up ficlet to the original fic here passenger princess ficlet II a.russo x reader

"-and you think this is a good idea given the fact you two spent an entire day at one anothers throats already. about this exact argument which shouldn't have even been an argument in the first place?" leah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as you nodded enthusastically.

"yes." you confirmed, the blonde sighing deeply. "i don't know how she puts up with you honestly, the poor girl deserves an award." your national captain shook her head, grabbing her empty lunch tray and standing as your jaw dropped. "leah!" you scoffed after her in offence, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff at her lack of support.

"you told her your plan?" lia chuckled, returning from the bathroom and watching the interaction as you nodded. "i thought she would be supportive but she basically told me i'm a terrible girlfriend and alessia deserves an award for putting up with me." you pouted at the older girl as you stood to join her.

"leah!" the swiss woman shoved the blonde who returned, swiftly glaring at the two of you. "what? she's a numpty and i personally am tired of having to pretend that she isn't an enormous pain in my side." leah shrugged as you again scoffed, launching at her and jumping on her back.

you clung on tightly as the three of you walked out of the lunch room and toward the gym for your final session of the day. "get off!" leah demanded trying to shake you but having no luck as you latched onto her.

"less help!" leah whined as your girlfriend entered the gym, laughing at something victoria said. "having to get someone else to fight your battles for you? some captain." you tutted, arm locked around leah's neck as the woman mumbled under her breath about how she wished she could drown you in the recovery pool.

"you either get off me right now or next camp i'll make you do hill sprints and burpees till you throw up." leah warned seriously as you rolled your eyes but dropped off her none the less, hurrying away toward your girlfriend before the older blonde could retaliate.

"partner up with me?" your girlfriend requested, pulling you into a warm hug as you nodded, flipping leah off over her shoulder as the blondes lips tugged into a smile and she turned away trying to hide it.

the older girl had been looking out for you for years and loved you like the younger sister she never had, so you knew she couldn't ever really stay mad at you.

"how was lunch?" you asked, laughing quietly feeling your girlfriend start to sway the two of you, refusing to let go of the tight hug you were sharing. "good, missed you though." she confessed, placing a discreet kiss to your neck and releasing you from her hold.

the two of you had made a pact to try and not spend every waking minute with one another at trainings, given the fact you lived together and were practically together almost every minute of each day you didn't want it to put any strain on anything now you were playing together as well.

"so i've been meaning to talk to you about something." you started, standing above the blonde spotting her as you all focused on upper body for the last twenty minutes of the session. "and now is a good time?" your girlfriend heaved as she racked the bar up and caught her breath for a moment, sweat beading at her forehead.

"it's nothing bad baby i promise." you chuckled as she reached back up for the bar again and nodded for you to add extra weight on. "are you sure?" you questioned, holding your hands up in a silent apology at the firm look she sent you, adding an extra 5kg onto each end at her request.

"go on then." alessia encouraged, reaching up for the bar as you helped her to lift it, watching carefully as she did her reps. "mm?" you hummed, distracted by the way her arms rippled and flexed as she pressed.

"what did you want to speak to me about love?" alessia smiled, knowing exactly what had you so distracted, the exact reason she'd added on weight being to impress you anyway, not that after years of dating she even had to try.

"i bought a car." you announced casually but suddenly, eyes widening as alessia's arms suddenly dropped, the bar landing on her neck with a loud thump as you hurried to help her lift it back up onto the rack.

"lessi are you alright?" you squatted down, hands on her leg and eyes shining with concern as the blonde struggled to catch her breath, waving away a few of the trainers who wandered closer to check on her.

"you did what?" alessia managed to spit out, eyes locked with yours as you bit your bottom lip. "i bought a car?" you smiled innocently, helping your girlfriend to her feet as the timers sounded for everyone to switch. "and exactly why have you gone and done that?" alessia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring down at you as you took a seat on the bench.

"because i can?" you shrugged, laying down and gesturing for her to remove some of the weight, everyone instructed to start light and add on with more reps completed. "you don't need a car though." alessia continued, doing as you'd asked as you lay down and waited.

"everyone with a license can find a need for a car less." you laughed, knowing you were already getting under her skin and you'd barely put your plan into action. "not girls who have girlfriends who drive them everywhere." alessia reminded as you grabbed onto the bar, lowering it and beginning your first set.

"i cannot believe you'd just go ahead and do this without running it past me." alessia shook her head, scowl set deep into her features. "what like you consulted me before dropping almost four grand on a bag?" you challenged, eyes flickering up toward her as you racked the bar again.

"okay firstly, that bag was for you. secondly thats different to buying a car! where did you get it? what did you get? when does it come?" the striker fired question after question at you, adding on more weight as you commenced your second set.

"i'm a financially independent woman alessia i can spend my money on whatever i want. and technically i told you last week i was going to buy a car!" you reminded with a smile, racking the bar and catching your breath for a moment, arms burning.

"i thought that was a joke! and i told you that you weren't allowed anyway." alessia huffed, bright blue eyes staring down at you filled with irratation as you simply smiled up at her.

"and when have i ever done what you've told me to?"

~

"you're seriously not going to tell me anything about it?" alessia scoffed, hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel of her own car as she drove the two of you home. "nope." you popped the p with a grin, changing songs.

"hey i liked that one!" alessia complained with a frown, you rolling your eyes and skipping back to it as she smiled. "soak it in though." you added on, tucking your knees up to your chest as the taller girl gave you a confused look.

"soon enough my love you'll be here and i'll be there." you teased, gesturing to her seat and yours causing the blonde to let out a loud sarcastic bark of laughter. "oh baby you must have gotten too much sun today, you're so cute." alessia pouted mockingly as she turned the corner into your street.

"am i?" you smirked as she pulled into your driveway, slamming on the brakes seeing an unfamiliar car already parked in it. "you bought that?" alessia spat out, edging forwards to pull in next to the unfamiliar vehicle as you hummed, unbuckling yourself.

"oh no no no no. no fucking way you're getting behind the wheel in that!" alessia scoffed as the two of you slid out of her car, the blonde popping her trunk and grabbing out your kit bags.

"i already have, had to test drive it first!" you winked, sauntering toward the front door as alessia hovered behind, eyes roaming the sleek black porsche panamera parked in the driveway.

"how did it even get here?" alessia questioned, following you inside and dropping your bags by the door as you sat down to take your trainers off. "well baby when a mummy car and a daddy car love each other very much they-" you started to explain, cut off as alessia threw her own shoe at your head.

"james picked it up for me and dropped it off while we were at training, he works at the dealership so they gave me a sizeable discount too." you grinned, standing and heading toward the kitchen to start dinner hearing alessia follow after you.

for the next half hour she fired question after question your way, and you'd done your research so you were able to answer everything without a moments hesitation, only angering the blonde further.

"i actually cannot believe you. i'm going for a shower!" alessia scoffed, pushing herself up and storming off toward your bedroom, the door slamming after her.

with an amused smile you grabbed your phone and clicked call, settling in in between your shoulder and your ear as you continued to prep dinner, your older brother eventually answering after a few rings.

"it's perfect." you grinned right away, hearing his chuckle on the other end of the line. "i know. but i was serious if there is even the essence of any sort of scratch or mark or dent on it i swear to god you're dead." he warned seriously as you rolled your eyes, moving to toss the peppers into a pan.

"yes i know james i will take extra good care of your baby, i promised didn't i? why does everyone think i'm such a bad driver? the only reason i don't drive is because less actually won't let me!" you huffed, glancing over your shoulder to confirm your bedroom door was still closed, shower running in distance.

"you're an evil evil little woman sometimes." your brother sighed though you could hear his smile through the phone, the two of you always being incredibly close despite your six year age gap.

"she needs to learn her lesson one way or another! she's lucky i didn't actually buy a car." you grinned, switching your phone to the other ear as you began to cook off the vegetables in front of you.

"remind me again why you didn't?" he sighed, having loaned you his car for the next two days after much much begging on your behalf. "i don't really need one. i quite like having her drive me round everywhere, not that i'd ever tell her that." you admitted with a shrug.

"then pray tell why all this drama and winding her up for?" "well because i'd still like to drive the mercedes every now and then, and she won't let me!" "and you think this will make her more inclined to let that happen?" "yes, yes i do." "i hope its nice in this land of grand delusion you live in, i'll come visit at christmas." "ha, ha, ha. hilarious!"

the two of you spent a little more time catching up, organizing that james would collect his car from you on sunday after the match, himself and his fiance coming to watch you play.

you glanced up as you heard the bedroom door open, bidding your brother a quick goodbye and another quiet assurance you would be careful before ending the call.

"dinner's nearly done baby." you called out, your girlfriend ignoring you as she retreated to the living room and you heard the tv click on, shaking your head at her immaturity as you left her be and finished up cooking.

"kiss for the chef?" you held out her plate a few minutes later, the blonde sending you a glare and taking her plate, settling it on her lap and tugging her hood over her head as you smiled and took a seat beside her, the two of you eating in silence bar the sound of the tv in front of you.

having washed everything up and showered yourself you decided you were done with receiving the silent treatment, standing right in front of your stubborn blonde lover with a smile. "move." alessia grumbled, kicking at you half heartedly as you blocked her view of the screen.

"you're not seriously going to be moody all night over this are you?" you laughed, raising an eyebrow as the blonde shuffled across, craning her head to watch the tv past you as you sighed. "get off." alessia ordered as you flopped on top of her, moving to straddle her lap, arms locked around her neck tugging her hood down as she tried to move you off of her.

"lessi baby come on, you're being immature." you warned, playing with the baby hairs on the back of her neck with a coy smile. you could tell she wanted to argue that but chose to remain silent, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back into the lounge trying to put some space in between you.

"you know you can't stay mad at me, you're not even really that mad." you whispered in her ear, knowing exactly how to get her attention back on you as you pressed your face into her neck, tugging on her earlobe teasingly with your teeth.

you heard a quiet huff and a mumble for you to stop but you shook your head, shifting on top of her and softly kissing her neck a few times. "come on baby, talk to me." you whispered, grabbing her hands and forcing them to uncross, settling them on your hips as you pressed your forehead to hers.

"i'm simply just too gorgeous to ignore." you grinned, watching as the striker bit down on her bottom lip, clearly trying to stifle her smile as she tried to remain stoney faced.

"you're really gonna let a pretty girl sit on your lap, kiss your neck and not even smile at her? that's just bad manners baby." you tutted with a smirk, hands grabbing her face and forcing her to look up at you.

"i'm not sorry i bought it but i'm sorry i didn't tell you." you spoke, pecking her lips repeatedly until eventually her hands squeezed your hips, pushing you away slightly. "come on, you know i'm gonna look good driving it." you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows as the blonde finally cracked.

"you are truly truly insufferable to be in love with sometimes you know that?" alessia sighed, her hands sliding up the inside of your top and pulling you in closer again as your head dipped and you latched your lips to the sweet spot of her neck just below her jaw.

the blondes breath hitched and her fingers dug in tighter to your hips as your teeth sank into the warm skin, tongue running over the fast forming hickey to soothe the sting as alessia's right hand flew to the back of your head, pressing your face into her neck with a quiet demand you keep going.

"maybe, but you're still in love with me anyway."

~

you glanced up from your phone hearing your girlfriend yell your name from the front door, hearing her footsteps thump toward you as you zipped up your kit bag. "where are my keys?" alessia demanded, bright blue eyes menacingly staring you down.

"your keys? baby would i know where your keys are?" you played dumb, knowing exactly where they were given you'd hidden them before going to bed last night.

"i am only going to warn you once. go and get them, and give them to me. now!" alessia warned, scarily calm. "my love i would but i don't know where they are. and if we don't leave now we're going to be late, and i don't really fancy running laps for that today, do you?" you smiled, stealing a kiss as she scoffed and you made a beeline for the door.

"and just exactly how are we getting to training then genius?" alessia questioned, grabbing her bag from the dining room table, sighing heavily as you turned to her, smug smile on your lips as you twirled your own keys around on your finger.

"i'm driving, passenger princess."

~

"i can't deal with this much longer. i'm driving home!" alessia growled as she flopped down in the chair beside you, ready for video debriefing for their upcoming match against Everton in a couple days time.

"no you are not. i'm not allowed to drive your mercedes? you're not allowed to drive my porsche." you smiled as she sent you daggers, wanting nothing more than to smack the smug look right off your face.

"hey russo do you need your missus to straighten your chair for ya too?" katie teased, harshly kicking the back of the girls chair causing it to swivel round as she settled in behind you both, alessia having been teased all day by your team mates about the fact she'd been demoted to passenger princess, most of them already keyed into our plan.

"fuck off macca." your girlfriend grumbled spinning around again as you sent katie a beaming grin, the irishwoman winking at you and ruffling alessia's hair, yanking her hand back as the girl lunged at her.

"so less, tell us a bit about your first experience being cuffed by your woman? how does it feel to lose your lady balls?" jen turned around from in front of you and asked holding out a fake micrphone in the blondes direction, and if looks could kill the scot would be ten feet under.

"alright alright lay off her would ya!" beth stuck up for her national team mate who sent her an appreciative smile.

"besides girls the world needs passenger princesses, there's no shame in switching sides." the older girl added on with a wicked grin as alessia groaned and buried her face in her hands, jonas and the training staff clapping for everyones attention.

the onslaught of teasing continued throughout the rest of the session, alessia resorting to throwing her headphones on over her ears as she stormed out of the change room.

"you need to put that poor girl out of her misery, this is enough!" lia warned, pinching your leg as you whined and leaned into leah on your other side who wrapped an arm round you.

"yeah you made your point mate, time to give her a break." the older blonde agreed with her work wife, kissing the side of your head affectionately before pushing you away and standing.

"give her a break? need i remind you its normally me being relentlessly teased by everyone? if its not for the passenger princess status its for something else she's dropped me in!" you huffed, tugging your spray jacket on.

"ah to be young and in love." leah sang out, patting your head and again telling you to come clean as lia agreed, causing you to sigh deeply as you followed them out of the change rooms and toward the parking lot.

hugging both older women goodbye you wandered to where your girlfriend stood beside your brothers car, sour look on her face and headphones slung around her neck as her eyes searched for you, finally spotting you walk toward her.

you didn't unlock it at first, making a point to gently nudge her out of the way, allowing you to open her door for her with a charming smile. "only the best passenger princess treatment for you baby." you gestured for her to get in as she sighed but remained silent as she slid into the car and you closed the door after her.

"oh god lessi please no!" you groaned as you pulled out of the lot, country music filling the car as alessia connected to the blue tooth. "passenger princess chooses the music baby girl." alessia smirked, making a point to turn it up louder and start singing along as you rolled your eyes.

after an insufferably western drive home you sighed in relief as you parked up in the driveway besides your girlfriends white merc, smacking her on the leg with a frown as she called out that she missed it today, blowing the car a kiss.

the moment both your feet crossed the thresh hold of your shared home, the door closed and you squealed as alessia roughly pushed you against it. "so where are my keys then?" the taller girl quirked an eyebrow, smile playing on her lips as her body trapped you against the door.

"what if i could tell you something even better than that?" you challenged, tilting your head to the side making her sigh lightly. "or, you just tell me where they are, now." your girlfriend requested again, hands slipping up your top, her palm pushing against your abs holding you even tighter against the wood behind you.

"okay. firstly, they're in the wardobe under the shoe rack." you started as alessia sighed, raising an eyebrow as you continued. "secondly; i didn't buy a car." you grinned, your girlfriend stepping away from you with a frown, following after you as you moved around her.

"what do you mean you didn't buy a car?" alessia questioned, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "i didn't buy a car." you shrugged and grabbed two protein smoothies out of the fridge, handing one to the blonde and pulling yourself up to sit on the counter.

"baby i'm going to need you to explain more than just those five words please." alessia sighed, moving to stand in between your legs. "that's not my car, it's james. he let me borrow it for a few days to teach you a lesson!" you smiled, taking a sip as alessia's jaw dropped.

"sorry, you what?"

"admit it, you didn't hate being a passenger princess and i look hot behind the wheel." you grinned, swinging your legs to and fro as your girlfriend looked on dumbfounded. "so let me check i'm following. that car, not yours?" alessia questioned as you hummed with a nod.

"alessia!" you laughed as she buried her face in your chest with a loud groan, the vibrating sensation somewhat ticklish. "thank god." the girl sighed, hugging you tightly as she remained bent over, her face pressed into your chest as you fondly carded your hands through her hair.

"you're not mad?" you smiled as she tilted her head up, chin resting on your sternum as she looked up at you. "oh i am furious, but also quite impressed? and a little bit dumbfounded that you managed that so easily." she sighed with a shake of her head, your hands still playing with her hair.

"never underestimate a woman scorned." you teased, your lips meeting hers in a tender kiss as alessia straightened up, arms wrapping around you, hands pressing into the small of your back and pulling your body as close into hers as she could get.

"but do you admit its not terrible to be a passenger princess sometimes?" you pulled away and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "its not terrible." alessia agreed as you grinned happily. "maybe i will give you some driving lessons in my mercedes, maybe." the taller girl agreed as your grin widenened.

"buzzin!" you mocked her thick accent causing her to pout. "i do not say that all the time!" she whined, head falling to your shoulder as your hand gently caressed the back of her neck.

"oh but my love, you really do." "if you only have the car till sunday i guess you can drive us to get breakfast tomorrow."

"buzzin!"

[redroomreflections]

Let It Linger

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

9/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 6k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha raises Nicky on her own.

Note: I think I spent a total of nine hours on this chapter today. I wanted this one to be out immediately after the other one. 'Twas hard editing and Grammarly hates me but we got it.

There were boxes. So many boxes and bags she needed to pack into this quinjet. Apparently, she was better at multitasking than she thought as Natasha loaded up another item up the ramp. She eyed the pile of bags and boxes stacked by the entrance of the house, each one a piece of the life she was trying to keep together. There were essentials: clothes, supplies, and every scrap of familiarity she could gather for Nicky. But even so, packing felt like she was gathering remnants rather than carrying a life forward.

Natasha hefted another box onto her hip, balancing it while she reached to open the hatch on the Quinjet. She’d been working nonstop, only pausing to check on Nicky, who was perched near the ramp with Stella's stuffed shark clutched in his hands. He missed his sister. He toddled around the quinjet, picking up rocks, and patches of grass, attempting to stuff them into his mouth.

"Nicky, no, don't put that in your mouth," Natasha gently scolded. The toddler dropped the blade of grass and gave her a look that reminded her of you. That look tore through her every time, spurring her to work faster, to keep him distracted, safe, and normal—even if she didn’t know what “normal” looked like anymore.

“There we go,” she murmured as she placed the box inside, taking a deep breath before straightening up and dusting her hands on her pants. “See? Told you we’d fit it all.”

Her words fell flat in the empty cargo bay. She glanced around, looking for Nicky. A bolt of panic shot through her as she caught sight of him toddling away from the jet.

“Nicky! Stay near the jet!” Natasha called her voice firm but gentle, a note of weariness woven through it.

But as always, Nicky was determined, his little legs carrying him farther down the hill, his gaze locked on the swaying trees at the edge of the clearing. She cursed softly under her breath and jogged after him, scooping him up just as his fingers reached out for the grass. His small face crumpled, the beginnings of a pout forming, and he squirmed, his hands grabbing at the air, trying to clutch the grass he’d been reaching for.

“No, baby, it’s not safe,” she said firmly, tucking him close as he fussed. She forced herself to look away from the tree line. He didn’t understand, but she did. There were too many memories lingering there, places she couldn't risk letting him wander.

Nicky’s lip quivered, and his small hands gripped her collar in silent protest. She sighed, cradling him closer, and kissed his forehead, murmuring, “I know. I know, buddy. We’ll be home soon.”

She walked him back to the jet, where the boxes and bags were already stacked and waiting. Nicky’s weight against her shoulder was steady, grounding—so unlike the lightness and emptiness she felt inside. He was growing quickly, each day a small reminder of time slipping by. He’d be two soon. How had it already been three months? Three months of hollow silence, of talking to him in soft whispers, of answering questions she knew he was too young to ask but that he felt in his own way.

“Almost done, buddy,” she said, trying to keep her tone upbeat, but her voice cracked. She turned back to the house, and with him still clinging to her, walked through the door one last time to grab the last bag. Standing there in the doorway, she felt the weight of everything she was leaving behind, the faintest echoes of laughter and warmth still lingering in each corner.

With a deep breath, she slung the bag over her shoulder and glanced around. She was carrying everything she could now, every piece of what you'd built, gathered together in the small world she’d assembled for Nicky and herself.

“You’re getting heavy,” she murmured to him with a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Nicky settled his head against her shoulder, his tiny fingers clutching at her sleeve as if he knew she needed the comfort more than he did.

It was time. They couldn’t stay here any longer, in a place so haunted by the memories of you. As much as it hurt, she knew returning to New York was the only path forward. The only way to find you. There were no resources here in Missouri. The compound had everything she needed. Natasha began to walk distractedly back to the quinjet, lugging the bag and Nicky effortlessly. She set him down, noting that he was following her, as she placed the bags into the bay. As Natasha slid the last bag into the Quinjet, she heard a faint jingling sound behind her. Her first thought was that Nicky had gotten hold of one of her empty holsters, and she was about to gently tell him to stay back. But then her voice caught in her throat as she turned around and saw it: a large, powerful-looking German shepherd standing a few feet away, intently sniffing in Nicky's direction.

Her body tensed instinctively. The dog was big, with a thick, well-muscled frame and the kind of alert gaze that signaled sharp intelligence and strong instincts. Natasha stepped forward slightly, inching closer to Nicky, her body a barrier between him and the strange dog.

“Hey there…” she said quietly, her voice steady but wary, as the shepherd lowered its nose toward Nicky, taking in his scent. Her eyes darted between them, ready to scoop Nicky up if the dog showed even a hint of aggression. But instead, the dog took a step closer and gave a short, chuffing sneeze, his head cocking to the side in an unexpectedly endearing way.

Nicky let out a tiny laugh, his hands reaching toward the dog without hesitation. Natasha’s heart lurched. Nicky had never been afraid of anything, and this was no exception.

“‘Mama,” Nicky said excitedly, his face lighting up. “Doggie!”

The dog, apparently pleased with the attention, let out a gentle huff and pressed its nose into Nicky's small hands, tail swishing low but wagging softly. Natasha exhaled slowly, her hand resting protectively on Nicky's back as she took in the scene.

“Alright, I guess you’re friendly,” she muttered, unable to keep a faint smile from creeping into her expression as she watched Nicky's chubby fingers grasp at the dog’s fur. The shepherd sat back on its haunches, its gaze moving between Nicky and Natasha as if patiently awaiting a command. "Where's your owner?" Natasha asked.

She scanned the area, her body tense, her hand resting on the knife strapped to her thigh under her pants, but saw no sign of anyone else. It didn’t make sense. How had the dog managed to get out here on its own? Of course, the house wasn't completely in the middle of nowhere but he'd have to walk far on his own.

The dog seemed content, its gaze flicking back to Nicky. Its tail thumped softly, and a low whine rose from its chest.

"Mama, doggie," Nicky giggled again.

"I know, the dog is nice but he can't stay," She shook her head. "We have to go. C'mon, kiddo."

Nicky looked at her with wide, pleading eyes, his little mouth turning down in a pout.

"Do we have to?" she groaned, knowing she'd lose this battle.

Nicky clapped his hands and squealed, his voice rising into an excited babble, and the dog let out a soft huff.

"What's your name?" She reached slowly for the dog tag. She squinted, holding the small piece of metal closer, but it was faded. Her brow furrowed as she tried to make out the words etched there.

"Ollie?" She tilted her head.

The dog stood and stretched, its large body shaking. It gave a gentle bark, its ears flicking as it regarded Natasha.

"Alright, okay, we can keep you for a little while," She nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner. She carried Nicky over to his car seat, ensuring he was strapped in. Natasha watched as Ollie hopped into the seat beside him and rested his head in Nicky's lap, just beside the stuffed shark.

She was almost surprised when Nicky didn't fuss or try to wriggle out of his restraints. Instead, his small hand tangled in the soft fur at the top of Ollie's head, and he looked at her expectantly. As if they knew each other their whole lives. Natasha smiled to herself as she took her place in the pilot's chair, running a last system check before taking off.

She could have sworn the dog looked right at her, its head cocked, its ears swiveling toward her. She felt a sudden wave of sadness, her fingers tightening around the controls.

"Don't worry, buddy," she murmured, her voice tight with emotion. "We're going home."

*********

Natasha paused just outside the glass doors of the compound, shifting the weight of the toddler on her hip. Nicky’s tiny hands clung to her jacket, his gaze curiously drifting over the building as if sensing it was different from the small home they’d left behind. She'd forgotten that he had never been there. He hadn't known her life as an Avenger. It felt like a lifetime ago.

It was different now. Emptier. The building was quiet and dark, save for a few lights here and there. The once-busy hallways were now nearly silent. No footsteps echoed against the tile, and no voices or laughter broke the stillness. The air was cool and smelled faintly of food. Someone was cooking.

The sound of claws tapping against the floor made her look back. Ollie padded up behind her, his tongue lolling out in a panting grin, his tail wagging softly.

"Okay," Natasha muttered walking further into the compound. "We're home, Nicky."

He made a small, inquisitive noise and buried his face against her shoulder, his little fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket.

In the kitchen, Tony and Pepper sat together at the counter, sharing a quiet dinner. They were deep in conversation, their voices low, but Natasha caught glimpses of concern in Pepper’s expression as she leaned closer to Tony. They were discussing something serious—she could tell by the way Tony was fiddling with his coffee mug, brow furrowed.

The sound of her footsteps made them both look up. Tony’s mouth fell open for a beat before he quickly regained his composure, but the shock in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Natasha!” he exclaimed, his voice somewhere between delighted and bewildered. “And...a kid?”

“Yeah.” Natasha tightened her hold on Nicky, who watched Tony with wide, curious eyes. “This is Dominic.”

Tony blinked, looking from her to the toddler and back again. “Is he...yours?”

“He’s mine,” Natasha replied softly, her tone steady but carrying a weight that only those who knew her well could understand.

"Did you steal him?" Tony asked. He barely flinched at the pinch Pepper given him under the table.

"No, Tony, I didn't steal him," she muttered.

"But you've been gone for—"

"He's my son," She cut in, her tone firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Pepper's expression softened.

"It's nice to meet you, Dominic," Pepper's voice was soft and calm.

Nicky made a soft noise and tucked his head against Natasha's shoulder, shy and uncertain.

"This is Aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony," Natasha murmured to him. "They're good people."

Tony and Pepper exchanged a brief look.

"He's a mini you, Nat," Tony said quietly, a small smile creeping into his expression.

"I tend to think he looks like my wife," Natasha shrugged. You did birth him after all.

Tony’s jaw dropped, and he blinked at her in shock, trying to process the words.

“Your…wife?” he repeated slowly, looking at Natasha as though he were piecing together a puzzle.

A flicker of emotion crossed Natasha's face—something softer, something mournful. She glanced down at Nicky, brushing a gentle hand over his hair as he burrowed closer to her shoulder.

“Yes. My wife,” she confirmed quietly, her voice laced with a kind of bittersweet strength. “He takes after her, you know—especially the smile.”

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again, his brow furrowing, and Pepper reached to cover his hand with hers, gently squeezing his fingers. "And the dog?"

"I stole him," She said.

Tony chuckled softly.

Natasha was suddenly exhausted. It was too much, too fast. She needed space. Space to breathe, space to process, space to be with her son. She shifted her weight, and the motion drew Ollie's attention.

"He's been a good help," she murmured. "Dominic's not fond of long rides. Usually y/n would sit with him and help him sleep."

“Oh, Natasha…” Pepper murmured, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Natasha gave a small, tight nod. “It was…before all of this happened.” She took a deep breath, glancing around the compound as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “After the snap, I…didn’t know what else to do. And I thought maybe…coming back here might help us.”

Tony cleared his throat, clearly still processing. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. You’re both welcome here, Nat.”

Nicky peeked up at Tony, his shyness momentarily forgotten, and Tony gave him a little smile and wave. “Hey, kiddo. I’m your Uncle Tony, and we’ll…work on getting you into the best tech school money can buy.”

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint smile, some of her tension easing. “One step at a time, Tony.”

He held up his hands, conceding, and gave a small chuckle. "You must be hungry. Have you eaten?"

"No," she admitted.

"Sit. I'll get you both something."

"I don't think he'll eat anything."

"He's gotta eat something," Tony waved a hand. "I made steaks."

"You cooked?" Natasha questioned.

"Yes," Tony shot her a glare. "And you're welcome. Pepper and I have been taking turns, but it's not as if we have a chef."

"I'm sorry," Natasha whispered, a small blush creeping up her neck.

"Sit, Nat. I'll get you both something," Pepper said softly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her gaze shifting to Nicky. Before Tony could ask more questions, Steve stepped into the kitchen. He was sporting some serious five o'clock shadow and his hair had grown at least an inch.

"Nat?" he said, his voice hoarse, his eyes widening slightly. He was frozen to the spot.

"I thought you might have run off to Europe again," Natasha commented.

"I, uh, have some business here. Wanted to be back if things changed," He answered.

"I'm glad you did," she said, a sad smile forming.

"How's Nicky?" Steve asked.

"Wait? You know him? You knew about him?" Tony brought a plate of food to place in front of Natasha.

"I did," Steve shook his head."I met him when I went to get Nat and her family," He shrugged.

"Family?"

"Yes, Tony. Family. Y/n is my wife. Nicky is our son." Natasha clarified. "Stella is...she's our daughter. She's three."

"But you were gone," Tony said. "A lot. Here with us. Like all the time."

"I took breaks, Tony. And yes, I was gone a lot. That's why we bought a house. Y/n could stay home. It was easier than having a nanny or putting Stella in daycare."

"Oh, uh. I didn't know," He murmured, suddenly realizing how insensitive he was being.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. I just came for a drink," Steve said, grabbing a bottle of water and backing away.

"Steak, Cap?" Tony called.

"I'm good, Tony," He waved.

"You could stay," Natasha suggested.

"I don't want to intrude," Steve said.

"You won't. Nicky needs someone to keep him busy. Ollie will only entertain him so much," Natasha chuckled.

"Ollie?" Steve looked confused.

"Our new dog. He found us before we got here."

Just as he sat down, Nicky reached for Steve, his tiny arms opening and closing. Natasha's heart lurched. He was looking for a connection with the only other person he knew. Steve scooped Nicky up, placing him on his lap, and began to speak to him in a low, quiet voice.

"So," Tony clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "What did this wife of yours look like? How did you meet her?"

Natasha took a bite of her steak, chewing it slowly, letting the silence draw out until Pepper gave him a look. "She was a former SHIELD agent."

"She was?" Tony was confused.

"Yes," Natasha nodded.

"When did you meet her?" Steve asked.

"Tony, I really think we should discuss something else," Pepper told him gently. She could see the tears forming in Natasha's eyes.

"Like what?" Tony was oblivious.

"Tony, she lost her family," Pepper scolded.

"Right," Tony backed down for once. His curiosity was evident.

"Tell us about him," Pepper gestured toward Nicky.

"He's stubborn," Natasha smirked. "Just like his mother. And he's brave, and he's smart."

"We're going to get them back Nat," Steve said firmly. She wished she could believe him.

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

The days had started to blur together, each one folding into the next in an endless cycle of searching, planning, and hoping. Natasha clung to Steve's words with everything she had, holding onto the idea that somehow, she’d bring you and everyone else back. She pushed herself to the limit, reaching out to anyone and everyone—Okoye in Wakanda, Rocket and the Guardians, and even a scroll of world leaders. Every door opened led to another closed one, and yet she kept moving forward, refusing to believe that all hope was lost.

But being an Avenger, a relentless force in her search, wasn’t her hardest job. Every time she returned to the compound after a long, fruitless day, her hardest job began: being a mother to Nicky. He’d started speaking more, toddling around the compound, exploring every nook and cranny. His laughter resonated down the quiet halls, moments of brightness in an otherwise somber world. Yet there were days he grew frustrated, looking around as if he knew someone was missing but couldn’t understand why.

Here they are in their suite just the two of them and Ollie. Ollie watched with slight interest, one ear raised, as Natasha placed a single cupcake in front of them on the coffee table. Finding it had been a challenge—most bakeries in New York were still struggling to recover, their shelves often bare and their employees long gone. But today was special. Today was Nicky’s third birthday, and despite everything, she was determined to give him a good day.

The cupcake was modest but beautiful, topped with a swirl of frosting and a single candle flickering gently in the still air.

“Look what I found!” Natasha exclaimed, leaning closer to him with a playful grin. “It’s your very own birthday cupcake!”

Nicky clapped his hands and giggled. "It's my favorite color, Mama."

"Red," She smiled, her fingers gently tugging on his ear.

"Like Mama's hair."

"Yes, like Mama's hair," She kissed his cheek, pulling a box of matches from her pocket.

"I'm three," he added, holding up three fingers. "A big boy."

"That's right, baby," She lit the candle and started singing, her voice quiet and slightly raspy.

As the song ended, Nicky squealed and bounced up and down in her lap. "Make a wish, sweetheart," Natasha whispered.

Nicky looked at the flame for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Do I blow it out, Mama?"

"Yes, that's what we do. We blow it out."

"And then we make a wish?"

"Yep."

Nicky stared at the flame, his chubby hands resting on Natasha's forearm, and let out a short puff of air, the flame wavering and sputtering out.

"What did you wish for?" she murmured.

Nicky grinned. "A basketball."

"You like basketball?" Natasha's brows rose.

"I wanna play basketball," He told her.

"Maybe when you're bigger, kiddo," She chuckled softly.

Nicky nodded, his attention moving to the frosting. Natasha quickly swiped some off the top, and he eagerly opened his mouth.

"Good?" She asked.

He gave an enthusiastic nod. "More, Mama."

She obliged, wiping more frosting onto her finger, and he giggled as he took it from her.

"Okay, you need a bath after this. Then we can play with your new toys," Natasha said.

Nicky paused a smudge of red frosting at the corner of his mouth. "Can we watch more videos of Mommy and my sister?"

"Yes, we can." She kissed his cheek, her heart twisting with pain and joy."Happy birthday, Nicky," She murmured, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. She reached for the phone, found the birthday video you'd taken in France, and played it for him.

"It was so nice to celebrate your birthday here, baby. Look at you. You're so big." Your voice sounded from the speakers.

Tears sprang to Natasha's eyes as she watched. She was doing the best she could, but nothing could replace you. It was only a matter of time before Nicky understood the situation fully.

"That's my sister," Nicky said excitedly as Stella stepped into the frame.

"Yes, that's your sister," Natasha agreed. "She's a good big sister."

"Where's Stella and Mommy?" He asked quietly, his tone hopeful.

Natasha's chest tightened. She'd told him many times that you were away, and she was working on bringing you home. It was a lie that grew harder to tell each time he asked. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep it up.

"They're away right now, Nicky," Natasha answered gently.

"How come they're not here?"

"Mommy and Stella are in another place," Natasha explained, brushing her hand over his hair. He really needed a haircut. "It's far away."

"Like a trip?"

"Sort of," She nodded, not sure how to continue.

"Are they coming home soon?"

"We're working on it," She said, swallowing hard.

"Can I play with Ollie now?" He asked.

"Sure, honey. He's been waiting for you."

Nicky scrambled from her lap, his small body moving across the room. The dog stood and stretched, shaking his fur before padding toward the toddler.

"Be careful, okay?" She warned him.

Nicky was already on the floor, his fingers tangled in the dog's fur. Natasha's eyes turned back to the video.

Natasha watched you scoop him into your arms, your laughter loud and carefree, his giggles infectious. Her heart twisted in her chest, aching. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I love you," she whispered, her gaze turning toward Nicky. He was sprawled on the floor with Ollie, the two of them engaged in an intense game of tug of war.

She loved him enough for the both of you. 

********

The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, and Natasha found herself lost in the whirlwind of motherhood and the unending search for answers. The ache in her heart was a constant reminder of what they had lost, but she held onto hope, even if it felt threadbare. This was year three.

The morning light streamed through the window as she sipped her coffee, the mug warming her hands. Today felt different, though—a change was in the air. She sensed it even before Steve arrived with his suitcase in hand, a determined look on his face.

“Hey, Nat,” he greeted her, his voice steady but soft.

“Hey,” she replied, setting her mug down. “You’re moving out?”

“Yeah, I found a place in Brooklyn.” His smile was filled with sadness, but he tried to mask it.

“Oh,” Natasha said, feeling a pang in her chest. Steve had been a steady presence, a support system when everything else felt chaotic. “Are you sure about this?”

“I need my own space,” he admitted, glancing around the suite that had become their makeshift home. “I think it’ll be good for me. For all of us. It's been three years since the snap."

Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat, her fingers tightening on her mug. Three years.

"And I...I can't stay here any longer, Nat," he continued, his gaze distant, as if he were seeing the past.

She understood. The compound held memories, good and bad, and for Steve, those memories were a constant reminder of his lost love. Tony and Pepper had announced their pregnancy shortly after she moved in and had gone lakeside with their newborn, Morgan. For the past few years, it's just been the three of them. It became routine to have Steve at lunch or dinner.

"I get it," Natasha nodded, taking another sip of coffee.

"But, hey," he added, trying for a more upbeat tone. "I'm not too far. I'll be back to visit. And I'm still working on finding a way to bring them back. We'll get them back, Nat."

"I know."

"And you're welcome at my place any time."

"Thanks, Steve," Natasha managed a small smile. "And thank you. For everything."

"It's what friends do," he shrugged, pulling her into a hug.

"Take care of yourself," she murmured.

"I will," he assured her. "And don't be a stranger, okay? My door is always open."

"I'll remember that," she gave a soft laugh.

Steve lingered a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Something else?" She prompted.

"No, no," Steve shook his head.

With that, he was gone.

**********

Natasha was truly alone now and she found herself stretched thin. Every answer she'd gotten only led back to square one. There was no getting you back. There was no coming back from this. Today was one of those days. Nicky was being particularly stubborn, a trait he had inherited from both her and you. He had spent the morning refusing to pick up his toys, ignoring her gentle reminders to tidy up.

“Nicky, please,” she said, her patience waning as she knelt beside him. “We need to clean up before we can play outside. You can’t keep leaving your toys all over the place.”

He looked up at her, his hazel eyes mirroring your defiance. “No! I wanna play with Ollie!”

Natasha felt frustration bubbling inside her. “You can play with Ollie after you clean up. That’s the rule,” she insisted, trying to maintain her composure.

Nicky scowled, his little fists balling up, and stomped his foot. “No!” he shouted, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t want to!”

The defiance ignited something deep within Natasha, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “Nicky, I need you to listen to me. This isn’t just about toys; it’s about helping each other. We’re a team, remember?”

Her son shook his head, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. "I want my mommy!" he shouted, his lower lip trembling. "You're no fun."

"Well right now you're mommy's not here," Natasha swallowed. "I'm here and I'm telling you to pick up your toys."

"No," Nicky muttered, his stubborn streak on full display.

"Fine," Natasha snapped, pushing herself to her feet. "If you want to act like a baby, then I'll treat you like one."

She stalked away from him, grabbing a pillow from the sofa and dropping it on the floor.

"Go sit in time out," she ordered.

"No, Mama," Nicky whimpered.

"Time. Out."

"I don't want time out."

"It's either time out or the naughty step," She said firmly.

"No," he shouted, his tiny fist hitting the pillow and knocking it off. "No, no, no, no." He yelled.

"Dominic," Natasha's voice was sharp, her gaze hard. "Stop that right now. I am your mother and you will obey me."

"You're mean," He muttered, his cheeks flushed.

"You're the one being mean right now," she pointed out. "Now sit down and stay there until I say so."

"You don't tell me what to do," He screamed. "I want my other mommy, not you."

His expression remained resolute, and Natasha could feel her temper flaring. “You’re ruining my life!” she snapped before she could catch herself.

Nicky recoiled as if she had struck him, his eyes welling with tears, and for a moment Natasha thought he might apologize. But then he was crying, his tiny shoulders shaking, his face scrunched up with emotion.

Ollie let out a soft whine, nudging his head against Nicky's leg.

"Nicky," She breathed.

"You don't love me," He cried, his arms wrapped tightly around the dog.

"Nicky," Natasha repeated, moving to kneel beside him.

"You don't want me."

"Nicky, no," Natasha said softly, her heart breaking at the sound of his sobs.

"You wish I wasn't here."

"No, no, Nicky."

"I wanna go back to Mommy," He hiccuped, his tears still falling. Nevermind the fact that his memories of you were fleeting and few.

"Nicky, look at me," Natasha tried, her fingers gently tilting his chin up.

"No," He refused, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Please," she pleaded.

Nicky met her gaze, his eyes filled with tears and sadness.

"I'm sorry, Nicky. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I was just frustrated. You can't say those things. That's not true," She shook her head.

"Then why?"

"Because," She started, her heart pounding in her chest. "Your mommy is gone and I'm trying so hard to bring her back. I'm sorry baby. Listen to me."

"You yelled," He accused.

"I know. I shouldn't have done that."

"My ears hurt."

"I'm sorry. Here," She pulled him onto her lap, her arms wrapping around him. "Mama's so sorry. Baby."

Nicky buried his face against her shoulder, his small hands clinging to her shirt. "Mama," He hiccuped, his fingers tangled in her shirt.

"Baby, listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," She sighed.

"You're not mad?" He mumbled.

"I'm not mad," She reassured him, kissing his head. "I'm so sorry. I promise you I'm trying. I'm doing everything I can. Okay?"

Nicky nodded.

"You know I love you so much, right?"

"Yes."

"And your mommy loves you. So much. She would be so proud of you. Okay?"

Nicky let out a shuddering breath, his fingers clutching her shirt.

"You're my boy," She murmured. "And I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe."

***********

The streets of New York City were eerily empty as Natasha walked along the sidewalks. It had been a long time since she’d ventured out on her own, without Nicky by her side. She had left him with Steve, knowing the six-year-old would be safe and entertained while she took a moment to breathe. The city felt both familiar and foreign, a blend of memories and shadows that lingered in the corners of her mind.

Though she’d tried to hold onto hope, there were days when it slipped through her fingers like sand. Natasha brushed a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly as she took in the skyline, the towering buildings standing as a testament to resilience—something she desperately needed to muster within herself.

Her feet carried her toward a small bar tucked away between two larger establishments, the neon sign flickering in the dim light. It seemed inviting, almost like a refuge from the overwhelming world outside. Natasha hesitated at the entrance, her fingers curling around the door handle, but then she pushed it open, her boots landing on the worn floorboards.

A handful of patrons occupied the tables, their heads bowed and voices hushed. No one seemed to notice her as she approached the bar, the bartender polishing a glass and humming softly to himself.

He glanced up as she sat down, a half smile playing on his lips.

"What can I get ya?"

"Just a beer," she replied.

"Coming right up."

The bartender grabbed a bottle and popped the cap off before sliding it toward her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a long swig.

He leaned closer, his eyes appraising her. "I don't mean to be nosy, but you look familiar."

Natasha tensed, her fingers gripping the bottle tighter.

"I knew it," he smiled. "You're an Avenger."

"Yeah," she nodded.

"What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"Just needed a break," she admitted, her voice low.

"From?"

"Everything."

"Sounds rough," he commented.

"It's been a rough few years."

"Tell me about it," the bartender shook his head. "This whole snap thing has really shaken up the city."

"You can say that again," Natasha muttered, taking another sip of her beer.

Sensing that she needed to be alone he left her to her thoughts. As the bartender walked away, she glanced around the room, her gaze landing on a woman seated a few stools down. The woman was alone, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a book resting on the counter beside her.

"It's Harry Potter," The woman held up her book. "Dorky right?"

"Not at all," Natasha smiled.

"I'm Nora," the woman offered her hand.

"Natasha."

"You're an Avenger," she grinned.

"Guilty as charged."

"You guys are heroes."

"Thanks."

"How's that going?"

"Honestly, I've had better days," Natasha laughed bitterly.

“Is this seat taken?” Nora asked as she moved closer.

"All yours."

"So, what's an Avenger doing at my local dive bar?"

"Just trying to clear my head," Natasha answered.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Natasha took another swig of her beer, the alcohol burning her throat.

"Wanna talk about it?" Nora asked.

"There's not much to talk about," Natasha sighed. "My wife's gone. I'm raising our son on my own. The rest of the team has split up, and I have no idea what's happening."

"Oh, wow," Nora's brow furrowed. "That's heavy."

"Yeah," Natasha nodded.

"I'm sorry," Nora gave her a sympathetic smile.

"It is what it is," Natasha shrugged, downing the last of her beer.

"Here," Nora offered her a shot glass filled with amber liquid.

"I shouldn't," Natasha hesitated.

"You should. Trust me. It helps."

Natasha accepted the shot glass, swallowing the liquid in one gulp.

"I don't want to seem weird, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener."

"And if I didn't want you to listen?"

"Well, I can be there for other things too," Nora smirked.

Natasha met her gaze, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, you can."

"Are you busy tonight?"

"Not at all," Natasha laughed, her mood lifting.

"Wanna get out of here?" Nora suggested. "My apartment is down the street."

"Lead the way." She gestured, slapping a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“Am I really doing this?” Natasha wondered silently, her thoughts racing. She hadn’t intended to meet someone tonight, let alone flirt with them, but something about Nora's easy demeanor and infectious laughter drew her in. It had been ages since Natasha had allowed herself to entertain thoughts of connection beyond her role as a mother and an Avenger. Was this just a fleeting moment of distraction, or could it be something more?

Nora led the way down the street, her long strides effortlessly navigating the sidewalk. Natasha followed closely, acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Nora’s presence. “This way,” Nora called back, her voice light and inviting.

As they walked, Natasha couldn’t help but replay the evening in her mind. The shot had loosened her inhibitions, allowing her to share more than she had intended.

“Are you always this quiet?” Nora asked, glancing over at her. She took Natasha's hand in her own. A presumptuous move.

Natasha smiled, enjoying the feeling of Nora's hand in hers.

"I'm on the third floor," Nora narrated as they took the elevator to hr apartment.

The door opened into a cozy space, the lights dimmed and the scent of cinnamon lingered in the air.

"So this is my humble abode," Nora announced, her hand gesturing around the room.

"Nice place," Natasha commented, her gaze lingering on the bookshelf and the photographs decorating the walls.

"Make yourself comfortable," Nora invited, slipping her shoes off and tossing her jacket onto the armchair.

"Thanks," Natasha smiled, sinking into the sofa and resting her head against the cushion.

Nora settled beside her, a glass of wine in each hand.

"So, do you frequent that bar a lot?"

"More often than I'd like," Nora admitted. "But you didn't come all the way to my apartment to get to know me."

"No," Natasha agreed, taking a sip of her wine. "I didn't."

It's almost as if Nora instantly knew what she needed or assumed she did. She straddled Natasha's lap and moved to kiss her. Natasha turned her head.

"I'm sorry I just.." Natasha shook her head. Nora doesn't take offense. She simply nuzzled Natasha's neck. It's there Natasha allowed her to place a kiss.

"You smell so good," Nora murmured, her fingers brushing through Natasha's hair.

"Thanks," Natasha breathed.

Nora's lips brushed over her neck, the sensation sending shivers down her spine. Natasha leaned into the touch, her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Nora said softly.

"No," Natasha assured her. "You didn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Natasha smiled.

Nora returned the smile, her fingers tracing patterns on Natasha's skin.

"You're beautiful," she murmured.

"So are you," Natasha replied, her fingers tangling in Nora's hair. Nora's kisses continued on her neck as her hands worked Natasha's belt buckle.

"Nora," Natasha gasped.

"Relax," Nora breathed.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"We're moving fast."

"Too fast?"

"Maybe," Natasha sighed.

"You can tell me to stop."

"No, no, it's okay," Natasha insisted. "I just...need a minute."

"Of course," Nora smiled, her fingers trailing along Natasha's jawline.

"You're not like other people I've met."

"How so?"

"You're..."

"Charming? Sexy? Funny?" Nora teased.

"I was going to say sweet," Natasha smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You miss your wife," Nora sighed.

"It's almost five years,"

"And you haven't been with anyone since."

"No, I haven't."

"You're lonely," Nora said, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah," Natasha admitted. "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

"It's fine," Nora assured her. "I understand."

"Thanks," Natasha said.

"Are you hungry?" Nora asked.

"Starving," Natasha replied.

"Good," Nora smiled, standing up and offering her hand. "I've got leftover pizza."

"Sounds perfect," Natasha laughed.

They ended up eating the pizza on the couch, their knees touching as they chatted about everything and nothing. All Natasha needed was a friend.

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

Natasha sat on a bench, watching Nicky play. He was growing up fast, his hair now cascading past his shoulders, and he was lanky and tall for his age, nearing seven years old. It was hard to believe how quickly time had passed since the Snap, and that he was already older than Stella ever was.

Nicky dashed around, his laughter ringing out like music, as he chased after a group of pigeons. He had taken a liking to animals, a trait he had most definitely inherited from you, and was always eager to see whatever was running around the compound.

Natasha chuckled, her gaze fixed on her son.

"He's getting big," a familiar voice called out, making her turn.

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Can I join you?" Steve asked, motioning to the empty space beside her.

"Of course," she scooted over.

"So how are you holding up?" He asked, settling down.

"I'm alright," Natasha replied.

"Just alright?"

"You know," she shrugged.

"It's getting easier, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Living without them."

"Steve," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just wanted to check in."

"No, it's fine," she waved off.

"I'm here if you need anything."

"I appreciate that," she smiled.

"You look happier," Steve observed.

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you do."

"I feel better," she admitted.

"Good," Steve smiled. "That's good."

"Mama, look," Nicky called out, showing her the pigeon perched on his arm.

"That's great, buddy," she smiled.

"I'm gonna name him George," Nicky declared.

"Okay," she laughed. "We're going to double wash you during bath time."

Nicky frowned, his nose scrunching up.

"It's true," she nodded. "You don't want George to give you a disease."

"Oh," he sighed. "Alright."

"I love you, baby."

"Love you too, Mama."

"Be careful," she reminded him.

"I will."

Nicky ran off again, the pigeon and Ollie following behind him.

"It's getting late," Natasha commented, glancing up at the darkening sky.

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

"Do you have to be anywhere?"

"No," Steve shook his head.

"Good, I'd like the company."

"Glad I can be of service," Steve laughed.

They watched in silence as Nicky played, the sky streaked with pink and purple hues. He was the only real memory she had of you. She'd cherish him forever.

---> next part

[ofmermaidstories]

do we think we can make a silent hill x mha crossover work? is that a thing The Vibes would permit? Us, leaving the city during a golden afternoon after a shitty day at work—driving into the night trying to get to a small town in the mountains. Maybe we stop for petrol, a bottled drink. A snack pack of gummy worms we throw onto the passenger seat next to us. Are we tired? Does it matter? We keep driving and driving until the world narrows down to the curve ahead in our headlights. Maybe we’re just outside of the town’s limits when it happens: the kid appearing in the middle of the road.

Do you scream? Do you even remember? Does it matter? Whatever noise you make, you manage to jerk the wheel, a sharp twist that sounds like a bone snapping, somehow, as the pale concrete of the pylons alongside the road are illuminated by your lights like headstones as you spin straight into them.

And when you wake up? When you blink, laid over your wheel and your horn blaring, screaming into the now white blanket of a foggy day—do you even remember the kid? How slight he was? Does it matter?

Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, right now, sitting up. Nothing aches, you’re not uncomfortable, you’re not even thirsty—you’re just there, still in your car, the horn now silent. Why is it daylight? Where did all this fog come? Did no one really drive past in all the however many hours you were out? Does it matter? Pray to God but row to shore—it’s a Russian proverb, supposedly, but you’d heard it on a TV show once, or maybe read it in a book. You can sit there in your car that smells like fog and pineneedles or you can get out and get yourself help. You get out, stumble; and then you follow the curve of the road down into the valley.

You almost feel relief when you see the tiled rooftops. Civilisation. Driving in the dark always felt like driving between worlds, suspended in time, only you and your music, low, the twin lights of other cars, other ghosts going past. But now you’re broken free of it, running down that road, now, your footsteps sharp and echoing against the rockface of the cliff above you—following you down into the ground levels out and leaves you standing there, at the edges of a rice paddy, your relief curling back into the bitter weight of fear when you realise it’s still so quiet. Where is everyone?

You make your way past a couple of small cars, parked up. One of them has a smashed window; you skitter around the edges, something thick in your throat.

“Hello?” You call out, when you make it to a small cluster of homes, the residential street small and tidy.

There’s a scuff of shoes—like they’re kicking off from a wall, or in gravel—and then you startle as just a few houses in front of you, a small boy jumps from behind a wall and bolts—leaving you to call out, “HEY! WAIT—”

He disappears around the corner before you can even reach him and when you turn you scream—coming face to face with a man in the green and gold of a Pro Hero suit, his hands up, catching hold of you as you scream again, twisting.

“Whoa!” He says. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I heard you call out and—I’m sorry, this must be so weird. Are you okay? Are you okay?”

His hands squeeze your arms tighter, reassurance or warning you can’t tell but you—you try to pull back, as much as you can, your eyes flitting over his face as he does the same with you, brow furrowed, big green eyes worried under a riot of dark, green curls.

His lips part, and he swallows. “Are you okay?” He asks for a third time, a whisper. “You’re the first person I’ve seen here since—since I got separated from the others. Please. Are you okay?”

Your heart is thumping hard but you’re no longer trying to fight against him and instead of answering you shake your head—you don’t know. You don’t know. But does it matter?

Wide, firm hands squeeze your arms once more—and then release you, letting you stand, the Pro Hero’s face (and he must be a Pro Hero, you think with a frown, although suddenly you can’t remember ever having seen him) grave.

“Everything will be okay,” he says, firmly. “I’m here. We’ll stick together, find the others, and get out of here.”

From his belt, there’s the click and fuzzy roll of static, coming from a small radio. You swallow, and nod.

(His words sound familiar to you—why do they sound so familiar? Maybe it’s just the script all Pro Heroes say. But it nags at you. It’s nagging at you. Why? Why does it matter?)

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twelve: Justice

Chapter WC: 11,285

Chapter Tags/Warnings: war stuff, description of blood/injuries

A/N: angst? happening. plot? developing. romance? uhhhhh

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Saleucami, 21 BBY

Dorin, Geonosis, and now Saleucami. It's been a series of defeats and close calls, and the losses have been mounting. You're running on fumes, and the exhaustion is starting to catch up with you. 

The plan to rescue Master Koth from General Grievous had fallen apart as soon as the mission started, and now, you and Obi-Wan were racing to make things right. Anakin was still in orbit, fighting off the Separatist fleet, while you and Obi-Wan were on the ground in pursuit of General Grievous. Somehow, you'd been given command of the 501st, and even though it was technically only temporary, it still felt good to have his presence at your side again. Especially after the last few missions.

Tracking is tedious work, and your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from the naval battle. You stand off to the side as Obi-Wan's men sift through the wreckage of the landing transport, but you know as well as he does that neither Grievous nor his droids are among the debris.

You stand on the back of an AT-TE, binocs in hand, scanning the horizon for signs of movement. But, the area is eerily quiet, and there's no sign of the enemy. Even the wildlife is silent, as if sensing the danger. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you take in a shuddering breath.

"Thermal housing intakes are still warm. This couldn't have happened too long ago," Cody announces, and the men murmur in agreement.

"The crew compartment's almost entirely destroyed," Rex adds, his gaze shifting up to meet yours. You leap off the walker to stand beside him, the ground uneven beneath your feet, and his hand comes up automatically to steady you.

You ignore the tingle of warmth where his gloved hand touches yours, and you turn your attention to the wreckage. "They can't have gotten far on foot."

"We'll split into teams," Obi-Wan announces, his gaze sweeping over the assembled men, and you nod.

"Rex, take Jesse, Hardcase, and Kix and search the wetlands," you order. "We'll stay on this path and cover more ground."

"Yes sir," Rex says. He signals the other clones, and the four of them break away from the group, heading toward the land speeders

"Be careful," you call after him, unable to stop yourself.

He looks back, and there's a faint smile on his lips.

"Always, sir," he promises before he turns and climbs into a speeder, securing his helmet over his head. The engines roar to life, and the three speeders zoom off. You watch as they disappear over the crest of the hill and let out a long breath.

Rex is more than capable, but you can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. The ominous dreams of golden fields and smoke have grown worse over the last few weeks, and it's only a matter of time before the visions begin to manifest in reality.

The feeling doesn't go away. It only grows stronger the further you get from the wreckage. Something is wrong. You can feel it, and it makes you uneasy.

Obi-Wan must sense your unease, because he stops and turns to face you, his eyes searching your face. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and he squeezes gently. "Don't worry, my dear. They'll be fine."

"Rex is a smart man," Cody adds. "He knows how to handle himself."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan nods, and he gives you a reassuring smile. "Always thinking on his feet."

"Yeah."

You let out a sigh, and Cody gives you a knowing look. He tilts his head, and his voice drops low. "Sir, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"No," you say, and his brow furrows, his expression skeptical. You scowl at him, and he just smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You sure about that?"

"Yes," you retort, your voice firm. You fix him with a flat look, but you can't quite stop the flush creeping into your cheeks. Cody raises an eyebrow, and his lips twitch. You roll your eyes. "I don't know. I can't explain it, but I have a bad feeling about this."

"Well, that makes two of us," Obi-Wan remarks dryly.

"Three," Cody adds. He shakes his head and shrugs. "We should get moving. We don't have time for a debate."

"Agreed," Obi-Wan replies. Cody gives a nod and moves off, leaving the two of you to stand and watch as the men poke through the wreckage. He sighs, his expression grim, and he glances up at the sky. "I hope Anakin is alright. He was in quite a mood when we left."

You huff. "He doesn't like losing."

"No he doesn't. And neither do you," Obi-Wan says, his expression thoughtful. He's silent for a moment, his brow furrowed, and his gaze shifts back to you. "How are you feeling?"

"What?"

"Well, it's been some time since we've had a chance to talk," he starts. His eyes are sharp, his expression serious, and he tilts his head, scrutinizing your face. "I know the past few weeks have been...difficult. We've all been under a lot of strain. But I haven't had the chance to check in with you."

"I'm fine, Obi-Wan," you say, trying to reassure him, but the words feel hollow. He gives you a long, doubtful look, and you let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, I'm tired. Really tired. But, I'm fine. Honest."

"Good."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine."

"Fine," you echo. You tilt your head and give him a wry smile. "Are we ever going to actually talk about how we feel?"

"We did," he points out. "And if I recall, it did not go well."

"No, it didn't," you admit. You snort, and you lean against the walker, resting your elbows on the metal hull. Not going well was generous.

"Do you think we should try again?" he asks. His mouth twitches, and he gives a pointed glance at Cody, who's standing a short distance away. The Commander's back is to the two of you, and his gaze is fixed on the men. "Now might be a good time."

"You're joking." At his raised eyebrow, you let out a groan and run a hand through your hair. Your voice drops to a low hiss. "You want to talk about一about the kiss? Here?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widen, and his cheeks flush pink. He glances at Cody again and clears his throat, lowering his voice. "No, no, that's not what I meant."

"Oh."

"I mean, if you'd like to talk about that, we can. We should," he adds quickly. "But, that's not why I asked."

"Then, what did you mean?"

"Well, it's just that—”

A shout from one of the men draws both your attention, and you stand on the tip of your toes, trying to see what's going on. You can't quite make out what they're saying, but they're excited, their voices loud and eager.

"General, we found something," Cody shouts. He jogs over to you, and Obi-Wan steps forward, meeting him halfway. You follow after, trying to keep up, and you push down the unease that's rising in your chest.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asks.

Cody points down to another escape pod. Behind the glass lies a droid, frozen and lifeless. "Still intact."

"We'll interrogate it on the go," Obi-Wan says. The Commander gives a quick nod and signals the men, who move forward and begin to batter the glass with the ends of their rifles. He glances at you and offers a tight smile. "Well, at least we have something to work with."

"Yeah."

"Try to stay positive, my dear," Obi-Wan says. The glass shatters, and two troopers move to drag the droid out. It's disassembled and shoved into a pack within seconds, and the two of you give the order to the battalions to set off once more.

The landscape is barren and bleak, and the heat is oppressive. It's a stark contrast to the cold of space, and the wind blows your hair as the AT-TE rumbles along.

You stare at the horizon, hoping that, maybe, you'll see the other team, but the sight does nothing to ease your anxiety. The weight of your armor feels heavier than usual, and your body is aching, your muscles tense and sore.

Your gaze drifts down to the ground, and you can't shake the feeling of dread that's beginning to creep over you. It's the same feeling from Felucia, from Geonosis and from a dozen other battles. A touch of something at the back of your mind, a faint ripple in the Force that threatens to pull you under.

You close your eyes, and you let out a slow breath. You don't need the Force to tell you something is wrong. Your instincts are more than enough, and right now, they're screaming at you.

"Perhaps we should split up," you suggest suddenly, opening your eyes and turning to Obi-Wan.

"Split up?" he repeats, his eyebrows arching. He looks amused, but there's a flicker of apprehension in his eyes, and his brow furrows. "Whatever for?"

"We could cover more ground that way," you say, trying to keep your voice light. You shrug and turn away from him, your eyes on the horizon. "A small team could move faster. More discreet."

"I suppose that's true," he muses, but his tone is dubious. "But, I don't want to risk一"

"Risk what?" you press. You look at him, and his lips press together, his expression tight. "It's not a terrible idea, and you know it. We're running out of time."

"I know," he says with a reluctant sigh. "Fine. I'll take the western sector, and you take a squad to the east."

"Understood," you say. Your shoulders slump with relief, and you offer him a smile. "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

He nods and smiles back, but it doesn't reach his eyes. There's a tension in the lines around his mouth, and you can feel his worry.

"Just, please, be careful," he warns. "Don't take any unnecessary risks. And if you encounter General Grievous, do not engage. Understood?"

"Yes, yes," you say, waving a hand dismissively. You leap off the walker and land, dirt flying up around your boots. You cup a hand around your mouth to shout up at him. "I'll see you soon!”

"Make sure you're not followed!"

"I'm not a complete idiot," you mutter under your breath, and you glance back to see Obi-Wan watching you, his arms crossed over his chest. You know he heard you, and you can feel his frustration through the Force.

You consider giving a rude gesture, but you salute instead, and he shakes his head, his expression resigned. You smirk and turn around, looking for a familiar pair in blue armor. 

"Fives, Echo, you're with me. The rest of you, go with General Kenobi. We'll rendezvous at dusk."

The men nod and move off, leaving you alone with the two troopers. They're standing at attention and waiting for your orders, their rifles at the ready.

"Let's move."

"Sir," Fives starts, and he gestures at the walker lumbering past you. "Wouldn't it be easier if we stayed with the main group?"

"Maybe," you admit, and Echo tilts his head.

"Then why send them away?" he asks, confused. "This isn't a stealth mission."

"Because we have a better chance of finding the General if we split up," you explain. "And I can't just sit still and do nothing. We're running out of time, and every minute we waste is a minute Grievous could be getting farther away."

"Fair point," Fives says. He lets out a long sigh, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, where to, sir?"

"We're going to search the eastern sector," you tell him. "Stay close, and keep your eyes peeled."

"Yes, sir," he replies, and Echo nods his agreement.

You head off in the opposite direction of Obi-Wan and his men, and you're glad to have some distance between the two of you. It's easier to think when he's not hovering nearby. You can't deny that his concern is touching, but it's also distracting, and, right now, you need to focus. Besides, the sooner you find Grievous, the better.

You keep a brisk pace as you walk, the sun beating down on your shoulders. The landscape is flat, and the horizon is a blurry, shimmering line through the strange-shaped plants jutting up from the ground around you. You can feel the sweat trickling down your spine, the dust sticking to your skin, and the tension knotted in your muscles.

You manage to come across another pod, but just like the rest, it's empty, smashed to bits, and there's no sign of the occupants. You let out a frustrated huff and continue on your way. You're not sure how far you've walked or how long you've been moving, but the sun is starting to dip low on the horizon, and your body is starting to tire, the worry gnawing at you. You know Rex and the men can handle themselves, but the longer they're out of contact, and the longer you don't know where Grievous is, the more anxious you're becoming.

The only thing you can do is keep moving forward, and so you do, Fives and Echo at your heels. The heat is finally fading, and the breeze is beginning to pick up, the air filled with the sound of chirping bugs and the rustle of leaves.

"It's quiet," Echo observes, an edge to his voice. "Too quiet."

"That's a good thing," Fives counters, and his helmet tilts, his gaze scanning the horizon. "Quiet means easy. We can handle easy."

"Something tells me easy isn't in the cards for us today," Echo mutters.

"Hey," Fives laughs, "don't be such a pessimist. We can handle whatever this place throws at us. Right, sir?"

"Right," you say absentmindedly as you scan the area for any signs of life. But, everything seems calm, and you let out a deep breath, trying to shake the anxiety from your mind.

"Well, it's certainly not the worst place we've been," Echo sighs, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes. "Remember Dorin?"

"How could I forget?" Fives groans. "Ugh, the fog. And the mud. And the giant worms."

"And the slime," Echo adds, and the two of them laugh.

"You're both lucky," you chime in, shaking your head. "I missed all the fun trying to keep Obi-Wan and Anakin from killing each other."

"Trust me," Fives says. "You weren't missing much."

"The swamp planet, however," Echo points out. "That was a disaster."

"Oh, yeah," Fives groans. "We all got sick, didn't we? Well, except for Rex."

"He always was immune to the worst of it," Echo chuckles. 

The mention of Rex's name catches your attention, and you look back at the two of them over your shoulder. It's been months since you've seen him, and even longer since the two of you were alone. You miss him. And his laugh. And his smile.

"Is that so?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. You tilt your head, and your voice takes on a teasing tone. "Immune to what, exactly?"

"Everything," Fives says. "Nothing ever fazes him. He's tough, that one. Always has been."

"That's why they made him captain," Fives adds, pride clear in his voice. "He's the best we have. No one's better suited for the job. After he saved some Jedi during the first battle on Geonosis, they gave him the 501st, and there was no turning back."

You feel your heart skip a beat, and you nearly trip over a root snaking along the ground in front of you. You quickly regain your footing and try to ignore the way your stomach twists into knots. There's a strange mix of pride and guilt welling up inside you, and your throat tightens.

"Really?" you say, trying to sound casual. You keep your eyes fixed on the path ahead of you. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Fives replies. "Some crazy, reckless Jedi who was too stubborn to listen to reason."

"Sounds familiar," Echo says dryly, but you ignore the quip, suddenly overcome with the need to know more. Rex had let on very little about how he felt the day he saved your life, and now here was your chance to get some answers. You slow your pace and glance back at the two men, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.

"What happened?" you ask, and they glance at each other, clearly surprised by your sudden interest.

"Well," Fives starts. "He was supposed to stay put and man the ship for the retreat from the arena, but instead, he charged into the fray, taking on a horde of clankers by himself."

"Risky move," Echo comments, his tone appreciative, and Fives nods in agreement.

"Very," he agrees. "But, he pulled it off. He managed to save the Jedi's life and earn himself a promotion in the process."

"A Jedi?" you repeat. "Which one?"

"Don't know," Fives replies with a shrug. "Rex never told us."

"He said she was incredible," Echo offers. The feeling in your chest eases a little, turning into something else entirely, a strange mixture of regret and hope that you can't quite identify. "Told us she fought like a demon, and that he wouldn't have survived without her. She saved his life too."

"She must've been one hell of a fighter," Fives says.

"True," Echo agrees. "He has a lot of respect for her."

"Respect," Fives scoffs, and Echo shakes his head.

"What?"

"Oh, come on, vod," Fives says, nudging his elbow against Echo's side. "I think it’s more than that."

Echo nudges him back, hard, and Fives stumbles, hissing in pain. "Ow.”

"Sorry," Echo says. His tone is insincere, and Fives snorts, rubbing his side. "My hand slipped."

"Uh huh," Fives mutters. He steps closer to Echo and dips his head, lowering his voice. "I'm just saying, he's never talked about someone the way he talked about her. Ever."

Echo glances over in your direction, and his voice drops even lower, but not so low that you can't still hear them. "You can’t be serious. It's Rex."

"So? Rex can have feelings, can't he?"

"Of course, he can, but, come on, it's Rex," Echo repeats. "He's the most dedicated clone in the entire army. He'd never allow himself to be distracted like that."

"Who said anything about being distracted?" Fives retorts, his voice rising. "Don't tell me you didn't think the same thing."

"No, I didn't. And it's none of our business," Echo retorts sharply. He looks back over at you, and you quickly avert your gaze, pretending to be interested in a large conical bush. "Besides, even if Rex did have feelings for her 一 which he doesn't 一 it wouldn't matter anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because," Echo starts, and you can't help but watch him out of the corner of your eye, a strange, tight feeling in your chest as your heart races in anticipation of his words. "She's a Jedi. They're not allowed to have relationships."

You swallow hard and bite the inside of your cheek, and you turn away, focusing your gaze on the path ahead. A hollow pit forms in the center of your stomach, and the warmth drains from your body, replaced by a cold chill that makes your bones ache.

"So?" Fives argues. "That doesn't mean they can't."

"Yes, it does," Echo counters, his voice rising. He looks at you. "Right, sir?"

"Hm?" you mumble, turning around and pretending like you hadn't been holding your breath and listening to their entire conversation. You try to look like you have no idea what they're talking about, but it's a losing battle. You can't focus, not with all these thoughts swirling around in your mind. 

The two men are staring at you expectantly as the silence stretches on, and you can feel their eyes boring into you. You shift your weight, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. "What was the question?"

"You know," Echo presses. "About the rules."

"The rules?"

"The Jedi code," Fives clarifies, and you let out a heavy sigh.

"Oh, that." Your hands twist behind your back, and your palms are sweaty as you struggle to maintain your composure. Forcing the words out takes all the effort you can muster. "Um, yes. That's correct. Jedi are forbidden from developing attachments."

"See?" Echo says, his voice smug. He turns to Fives and folds his arms across his chest. "I told you."

"Okay, okay," Fives concedes. "I was just saying, that's all."

"Well, don't," Echo warns. "It's rude."

"Fine," Fives sighs. He looks back at you and dips his helmet apologetically. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," you tell him, trying to give him a reassuring smile, even though your heart is pounding and your head is swimming.

Fives is wrong, of course. He has to be. It's ridiculous to think that Rex would be interested in you in that way. The two of you are friends, and that's all you'll ever be. It's a miracle that you're even that, after everything that's happened.

It doesn't make sense. None of it does. The very idea is preposterous. 

But...if it's true...what then? Would he ever act on his feelings? Would you? And if you did...what would happen? Where would you go from there? 

It's not like you could have a normal relationship, not that you even know what that feels like. Not to mention the fact that it's illegal. And frowned upon. Very frowned upon.

And yet...

"Sir," a voice crackles on your comm, startling you out of your thoughts. For a moment, you're staggered with a wave of relief, but then you realize that it's not Rex, but Jesse that's speaking. "We're on our way back. No sign of Grievous."

"Where's Rex?" you demand, the question tumbling out before you can stop yourself. Your grip tightens on the device, and you can feel your pulse quickening.

There's a pause, and the line crackles with static.

"Rex was injured, sir," Jesse reports.

Your stomach lurches, and your legs are suddenly unsteady, threatening to buckle beneath you. There's a cold pit in the bottom of your stomach and a lump in your throat as the blood drains from your face, and your hand shakes as you lift your comm back up.

This was what you were afraid of. You should've never let him go without you. This is all your fault.

"How bad?"

"He'll be fine," Jesse replies. "But we had to find him shelter for the night."

"What do you mean?" you snap. "Jesse, what happened?"

"A sniper took a potshot at us," he explains, and there's a grimace in his voice. "The Captain got hit."

"Where are you?" you press. You can hear your pulse thudding in your ears, and your voice is rising as you fight to keep yourself calm. "I'm coming."

"No, sir," Jesse argues. "We're on our way to reconvene with the rest of the unit. We're close. Rex is fine. He's just resting."

"Resting," you repeat numbly. "Jesse一"

"We'll see you soon," he cuts you off. "Don't worry. The Captain will be fine."

"He'd better be," you mutter as you close the channel. The two men are still staring at you expectantly, and you take a deep breath, trying to get your emotions under control. You can't afford to lose it, not now. Not when Rex is counting on you.

"He'll be fine," Echo assures you. His hand rests on your shoulder and squeezes gently. "We've been through worse."

"Of course he will," Fives agrees, his tone light. "He's the Captain. Nothing can take him down."

"You're right," you murmur, and you take another deep breath. "Thank you."

"Of course," Echo says. "Just try not to worry, sir. Rex can handle himself."

"Yeah," you sigh. "I know. It's just...this whole mission has been a fucking mess."

"Aren't they always?" Fives laughs. "You gotta learn to roll with it."

"I'll try," you say.

"Come on," he says, gesturing towards the horizon. "Let's get going before we lose the light."

You nod and start moving again, and the two of them fall into step at your side. The rest of the journey back is tense and quiet. You can't get the thought of Rex lying somewhere hurt and alone out of your mind, and the guilt is threatening to consume you. If he hadn't been out there on your orders, if you'd stayed together, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. You should've known better, should've anticipated the danger, should've protected him.

It's your fault that he's injured, and that knowledge eats at you.

By the time you return to Obi-Wan's position on the western front, the battle has already begun. You can hear the sound of canons and blaster fire, and the ground is trembling under your feet. There’s a downed escape pod surrounded by swaths of droids, and you can see the glint of green and blue lightsabers in the hands of the looming figure in front of it. It appears Obi-Wan has found Grievous after all, and he’s closing in quickly.

"Looks like they've started without us," you observe wryly, and the two troopers glance at each other, amused, before nodding in agreement.

"So, what's the plan, sir?" Fives asks. "Do we rush in and save the day?"

"Something like that," you reply, and he lets out a low whistle, his posture relaxing slightly, his helmet cocked to the side.

"Sounds like my kind of fun," he says, and Echo nods his agreement.

"Stay behind me and stick close," you order. “We’re not letting him get away this time.”

The two men nod and you draw your lightsaber, igniting the blade with a sharp hiss. The three of you begin running, your pace quickening as the sounds of the battle grow louder, and the smell of ozone fills the air. 

When the scene comes into view, it's an absolute disaster. There are pieces of droids everywhere, and the wreckage from the crashed ship is scattered around the base of the cliff. The walkers are firing their cannons, and the blaster bolts are flying thick and fast, ricocheting off the rocks and sending sparks shooting up into the sky. 

You'd hoped to see Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase among the men, but they're nowhere in sight. Still, the 212th and the remainder of the 501st is holding its own, and for once, you’re optimistic that this is a fight you can win. If you can get close enough to Grievous, he'll fall, and the rest will scatter like the rats they are.

Obi-Wan is poised on the bow of a walker, deflecting blaster fire with ease. You catch his eye and gesture to Fives and Echo to stay close, and you leap up to join him on the top of the vehicle, landing beside him with a soft thud. 

"Nice of you to join us," Obi-Wan quips, his attention shifting from the battle to you. When he sees your expression, his brows knit together. "Everything alright?"

"Peachy," you mutter. Your lightsabers ignite, and you deflect a blaster bolt that comes too close for comfort. "Sorry we're late.”

He stares at you for a beat longer. It’s obvious that he can feel the worry coursing through you. He knows something is wrong. He always does. But, this is a conversation that can wait. Grievous is the priority, and, as usual, Obi-Wan seems to know exactly what to say to calm your nerves.

"No apology necessary," he says gently. "Though it would seem our dear General Grievous is in a bit of a hurry to leave. It's rather rude of him not to say goodbye."

"Oh, I think we can persuade him to stick around," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips, and Obi-Wan returns it with a smirk of his own.

"My thoughts exactly," he agrees.

The two of you move as one, jumping off the walker and racing towards the group of droids, deflecting their bolts and slicing them to pieces as you go. You split off to the right with Fives and Echo flanking you, and, together, the three of you cut a path through the sea of metal bodies, heading straight for Grievous. 

Obi-Wan takes the opposite direction, and you can hear his lightsaber humming as he makes short work of the droids in his path. The walkers are firing steadily now, the sound deafening, and the explosions rock the ground beneath your feet. 

The Republic has the upper hand here, but Grievous is a formidable opponent. If you want to win, you'll have to bring the fight to him. And, you know that's exactly what he wants. He's a tactician at heart, and he knows when to retreat, which means you have to push him, and quickly. It's risky, but you don't have much of a choice.

You keep moving, not stopping for a moment. A blaster bolt glances off the side of your armor, and the impact is enough to send you reeling, but Echo’s hand on your back keeps you upright. You surge forward, determined to reach Grievous and end this battle once and for all. There are more than enough troops to keep the droids distracted, and they've begun pushing them back, using the cover fire from the AT-TEs to drive the clankers towards the cliff.

“Sir! We can take him!" Fives yells over the din of battle as you throw your shoto, the blade embedding in a nearby droid. 

When you turn and pull it back into your hand, you can see him pointing at Grievous, and you nod sharply. It's the best plan you've got. 

Grievous is still standing in front of the pod, his body hunched over, his cape fluttering in the wind. You can feel his rage as he stares at you, his yellow eyes piercing through you. The flash of his stolen lightsabers makes you grit your teeth in anger as you race forward, Echo and Fives at your heels, the blaster fire whizzing past your ears, and your heart thumping in your chest.

A ship buzzes overhead, and you look up to see a transport attempting to land behind enemy lines. There's no doubt that the droids are attempting to extract Grievous, and you know the opportunity is too good to pass up. If you can cut them off, then you can end the battle, and capture the Separatist leader.

"Concentrate your fire on that ship!" Obi-Wan orders, and you repeat the command to your men. The walkers adjust their aim, and the cannons pound away, narrowly missing the hull.

"We can't let him get away!" you shout. "Keep pushing!"

Fives and Echo grunt their acknowledgement, and the three of you continue charging towards Grievous, your lightsabers whirling around you. You can hear the men shouting, their voices muffled by their helmets, and the blaster fire is a constant buzz in the air. The sound is punctuated by the explosions, and the dirt is being thrown up around you as the walkers blast the droids.

"Sir, that ship's coming around for another landing attempt," Jesse says in your ear, and your eyes flit back up to the sky, searching for the enemy vessel. You find it easily and curse under your breath when you realize it's too far away to hit with the cannons.

"Keep firing," Obi-Wan commands from behind you. "Don't let that ship land."

You glance back at him. You're closer to Grievous than he is, and you can't pass up the opportunity. If the cyborg manages to escape, then it's over, and you'll be damned if you're going to let that happen again.

"I'm on it," you say into your comm.

"What? No, wait," Obi-Wan protests, but you're already running, your eyes fixed on the ship. “Wait!”

"Sir, where are you going?!" Fives calls after you, and you can hear him and Echo struggling to keep up.

"Taking care of Grievous!" you shout. You launch yourself over the bodies of fallen droids and the wreckage of their machines, the Force pushing you forward. The air crackles with energy, and you can feel the adrenaline surging through you as you jump, twisting your body to avoid the blaster bolts streaking past you.

You hear the men shouting behind you, but the sound is distant. The only thing that matters is catching Grievous. You're not going to let him slip away. Not this time. Not ever.

Your blades sing through the air, and he turns just in time to deflect the blow. His mechanical breathing rattles through the air, and his yellow eyes glow menacingly as he leers down at you, the lightsabers in his hands hissing and crackling with energy. 

He's a mountain of metal and wires, his claws curling into fists as he swings one of the weapons at your head, but you're ready for him, and you duck beneath the blow. You bring your lightsaber up in a wide arc and manage to score a glancing hit on his leg, and the metal sizzles as the blade cuts through it, sending sparks flying.

Grievous roars, and he descends on you with a flurry of blows that leave you reeling, but you're able to parry each one, the blades singing as they clash against each other. Your arms are shaking from the effort, and you can feel the strain in your muscles.

Obi-Wan barks another order over the comm, but you don't listen, too focused on the fight. The transport is closing in above you, and you watch as a rope descends from the open hatch and falls towards Grievous. You know you have only seconds before he's gone, and you have to act fast. Your lightsabers twirl, and you block his next strike, but he lashes out with an unarmed claw as you do.

A yelp of pain escapes your throat as the razor-sharp points rake across your arm, catching underneath your plate and ripping it off your shoulder. The sudden movement throws you off balance, and the blow is enough to send you stumbling backwards, blood dripping down your arm. 

The sight of your own blood soaking through your white robe fills you with a new sense of urgency, and you can feel your rage bubbling up, threatening to consume you. The Jedi Code is the furthest thing from your mind, and, as your eyes lock on the Separatist general, all you can think about is ending him.

You raise your arms to block as he descends on you again, his lightsabers flashing through the air as he moves faster than any human should be able to. The pain in your shoulder is forgotten as you parry his attacks and counter with your own. The sounds of the battle fade away, and all you can hear is the roar of your pulse, and the crackle of his lightsabers as they slash through the air around you. 

After a particularly hard blow sends you stumbling, the cyborg takes the opportunity to appraise you, his yellow eyes narrowed as he studies you. His claws twitch as he looks you up and down, and a strange noise escapes him between labored breaths.

"Ah, I know you," Grievous croaks, and you realize the noise is laughter. "The angry little Jedi from the arena."

"What?" you hiss. Your hands grip the hilt of your lightsabers tightly, the muscles in your shoulders tensing. You feel like you're a spring coiled so tight that it's about to snap at any moment, and a shudder runs through you. "What did you just say?"

"Yes," he chuckles again. "You are the same. How amusing. Dooku will be pleased."

"What do you mean?" you ask, and your voice trembles with anger. You know he's trying to distract you, but you can't help yourself, desperate for any answers you can get.

"You are a fool," Grievous laughs, the sound echoing through the canyon. He raises his arms, his metal body towering over you. "If you knew what happened to your master, you would not be here."

"Tell me," you growl, taking a step forward. You can hear Obi-Wan shouting, but the words are lost in the haze of your rage, and the ringing in your ears drowns him out.

"Why would I tell you?" he sneers. "You are nothing."

His words hit you like a blaster bolt, and the anger burns hotter than the sun, consuming every thought in your mind. Your vision goes red, and your muscles tense as you let out a primal scream and charge, throwing yourself at him, your lightsabers swinging wildly.

It's a reckless move, and a stupid one, but it's all you can do. Your blades strike again and again, the sound deafening. You're barely aware of anything else. Not the blaster fire. Not the walkers. Not even Obi-Wan yelling. All you can focus on is Grievous, and the fury inside you.

"You are weak," he taunts, his voice low and gravelly. His words only make you angrier, and your body shakes as the emotions overwhelm you.

He blocks the next swing of your lightsaber, and the impact is enough to nearly knock the blade from your hand. You scramble to keep your grip, barely managing to hold onto it. You're panting now, your lungs burning, and sweat dripping down your brow.

"You will pay for what you've done," you snarl, and you raise the blades again. "For the lives you've taken."

“What about you?” he snarls, his mechanical breathing labored as he twirls his sabers. “Will you pay for the lives you've taken?"

His words stop you in your tracks, and, for a moment, the world seems to slow down around you. You feel like you're falling into the depths of an abyss, your mind spinning. You know he's toying with you, trying to provoke you, but the images from your past come rushing back faster than you can push them away. He can't possibly know...can he?

The sound of a cannon exploding nearby jerks you back to reality, and you look up and see the ship hovering just above Grievous. He’s staring at you, a sick satisfaction in his eyes. The rope has been lowered almost all the way now, and you can see the droids inside the transport waiting to haul him up.

"You will regret this day, Jedi," Grievous taunts, his eyes flitting to the transport. He knows he's won, and it's the last thing he'll say to you before he's gone, leaving you with nothing but the memory of his voice and the knowledge that he has answers you need.

The anger surges up inside you again, and, before you can think twice, your lightsaber is flying towards him. He barely manages to catch it with his own, and the blade skims the edge of his arm, slicing through the metal and causing the wires beneath to spark. Satisfaction floods you as the smell of burning wire fills the air, and his lightsaber drops to the ground with a thud.

A scream tears itself from his throat, and he lashes out with his other blade. You whirl and parry, but you’re not prepared for the hand that snaps out. Clawed fingers catch around your neck and lift you off the ground, and you kick and struggle, but his grip is like a vice. Grievous squeezes hard, and your lightsabers fall from your hands as your vision blurs and your lungs burn for air.

The pain is searing, and you can feel your pulse pounding in your head as he lifts you higher, until you're looking him straight in the eye. Your hands wrap around his wrist, trying to pull yourself free as your legs kick frantically, but it's no use. You try to call your lightsabers back to you with the Force, but he kicks them away, and the sound of them hitting the ground rings in your ears. 

Grievous lets out a wheezing laugh as he tightens his grip on your throat, and you gasp, your mouth open, desperate for air, your mind screaming in agony.

"This is where we part ways," he growls, and you can hear his mechanical breathing getting louder as his claws squeeze the last of the life from you.

“Leaving so soon?” 

Obi-Wan’s voice comes from behind you, and you can't turn to look, but you hear the hum of his lightsaber and see a flash of blue in the corner of your eye. Grievous roars and releases you, and you crumple to the ground, your body colliding painfully with the dirt.

You're gasping for air, your head swimming, and your vision blurred. You can hear Obi-Wan shouting orders, and the sound of a lightsaber clashing against another. The ground is shaking, and there are shouts and screams, but the world around you feels so far away.

When the haze finally clears from your mind, you look up to see Obi-Wan and Grievous locked in a duel, their lightsabers clashing in a fury. You can barely keep track of the two combatants as they circle each other, moving faster than should be possible, their blades a blur of light and color.

Obi-Wan is the best swordsman in the entire army, and he has more experience fighting the cyborg general than anyone else, but even he can't take on Grievous without help. If you want to win this fight, you need to get involved. You push yourself upright, trying to shake off the fog that has settled over your mind, and you search for your lightsabers, desperate to help, but they're nowhere to be found.

"Come on, come on," you mutter, turning back towards the battle.

"Sir!" 

You feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, lifting you up and away. You fight, trying to pull free, but the arms are unyielding. You struggle uselessly against them, the panic setting in as you watch the duel unfold. Obi-Wan is starting to tire now, and you can tell he won't last much longer, not without your help.

"Stop!" you cry out, and the sound is strangled and raspy. You can feel the bruises forming around your throat, and the pain is radiating down into your chest as you squirm and thrash. "Let go!"

"Calm down, sir!" the voice orders, and it takes you a moment to recognize Jesse. His helmet is pressed close to your ear, his voice strained with effort as he tries to keep a hold of you. "Calm down! It's me!"

"Jesse," you rasp.

"Yeah, it's me," he repeats. His grip loosens, but only slightly. "Don't move."

You can see the transport closing in now, and Grievous is backing away from the fight. He's retreating. It's the opening he needs, and Obi-Wan won't have a chance.

“Jesse, let me go.”

"What? Are you crazy?" Jesse demands. "You can't fight like this."

"I don't care!" you yell, and the volume of your own voice sends a shockwave of pain through you.

"Sir, I'm trying to help," he pleads, his grip tightening again, the armor pressing into your ribs.

"Jesse, let go!" you repeat, and your voice cracks. "Please!"

He hesitates, and for a moment, you think he's going to refuse. But then, his hands release you, and the sudden change in position throws you off balance. You stagger, your hands flailing, and you're certain you're going to fall, but his arms steady you and hold you up.

"Thank you," you pant, and you can feel his eyes on you, even through the helmet.

"I hope you know what you're doing, sir," he sighs.

You both look up to see Grievous scaling the side of the downed escape pod, the transport hovering overhead. Obi-Wan is struggling to stand, his body hunched, his lightsaber dangling loosely in his hand.

The cyborg is still laughing, his metal frame glinting in the moonlight as he reaches for the rope, his claws wrapping around the end and pulling himself up. 

If you can buy Obi-Wan more time, stop Grievous from boarding the ship...you can still end this. This won't be for nothing. Rex won't have been hurt for nothing. None of it will have been for nothing. Not if you can take Grievous down before he can leave. It's the only way.

"Get back," you order Jesse, your voice dark. "Now."

"But, sir一"

"That's an order!"

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice flat.

Jesse releases you, and the relief is immediate. You can feel the cold air filling your lungs, and the weight has lifted from your chest, but the pain in your throat is still searing. Your hands tremble as you try to gather the Force around you, drawing on every ounce of strength left within.

You expand your mind, reaching out for the Force to guide your path, and you feel a jolt as you grasp onto the ship. You hold tight, focusing on keeping it in place, and the metal groans as it strains against the invisible bonds holding it there. The effort makes your head pound, but you ignore it, pouring everything you have into the movement.

"Sir," Jesse yells behind you, "what are you doing?"

"Something stupid," you grunt, wincing as a sharp pain lances through your skull. The strain is enormous, and you can feel your control slipping, your body shaking from the exertion, but you can't stop now. Obi-Wan is climbing up after Grievous, and if you could just hold the transport for a few more seconds...

The air around the vessel ripples, and the engine shudders. The ship is groaning under the strain of the Force pushing against it, and it's all you can do to hold the craft still, your heart pounding in your chest, the sweat running down your forehead, and the ache in your head growing by the second. Obi-Wan is halfway up the pod now, but Grievous is ascending, lifting higher into the air.

The ship begins to pull away, straining against the hold you have on it, the metal groaning and creaking as the engine whirs. Your body shakes as the ship rises a few meters, your grip slipping, your mind screaming in agony. 

You're struggling to stay conscious now, your vision blurred and the world around you beginning to spin, and you know you won't be able to maintain control much longer. The ship is too big, too heavy, and your head is pounding so hard you can barely think straight. But, you have to hold on. You have to keep fighting. You have to save the men. You have to save Obi-Wan. You have to一

Suddenly, the ship lurches, and the metal buckles. There's a loud popping sound, and you fall to your knees, the breath rushing out of your lungs as the weight of the vessel releases from your mind. The world is spinning, and your heart is hammering in your chest. And the ship...

The ship is flying away.

You watch through the fog in your mind as the ship rockets up into the sky, and the darkness swallows it whole. 

There's a moment of deafening silence as you realize what's happened, and then the crushing weight of defeat sets in. Grievous has escaped. Again. All of this was for nothing. You've failed.

"Sir?" Jesse asks gently, and you look up.

You meet his gaze through the visor of his helmet, the tears stinging the corners of your eyes and the lump rising in your throat. He places a hand on your shoulder, his grip gentle but firm, and you let him lift you to your feet. Your head is spinning, and the nausea is creeping up the back of your throat, but you keep moving as Jesse guides you back toward the others.

"Is the General alright?" Fives calls as he and Echo rush towards you, their blasters raised and their heads turning back and forth, searching for threats.

"She's fine," Jesse replies curtly, his tone brooking no argument.

"I'm fine," you whisper, and the words taste like ash. You're far from fine. In fact, you're pretty sure this is the farthest thing from fine that you could possibly be. Grievous has escaped. Rex has been injured. Obi-Wan nearly died because of you. How can any of this be fine? How can it ever be okay again?

"Sir?" Fives says, concern bleeding through his voice modulator, and the sound makes your stomach twist into knots.

"We...we need to regroup. We...have to...the men..." you say weakly, and the exhaustion is beginning to creep in, the adrenaline fading and the pain taking its place. The words are a jumbled mess, and you're not even sure what you're trying to say, but the others nod their understanding.

"Sir, you're bleeding," Kix says as he comes running over with Hardcase close behind. His hands are immediately on your arm, his fingers probing the wound, and the pain makes your stomach clench. 

You wince, pulling away from him as best you can, the tears stinging the corners of your eyes again. You're not sure if it's the pain or the humiliation that's causing the burning sensation in your throat, but it doesn't matter, because both are making you want to disappear.

"I'm fine," you reply, the words coming out more harshly than intended, and Kix takes a step back, his hands raised in surrender. You know the injury is severe, but the sting of your pride is stronger. "Help the wounded."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think一"

"That's an order," you snap, and the medic flinches at the venom in your voice. "Do it."

"Yes, sir," he replies quietly, his tone resigned. "Just...take it easy. Please."

He nods to Hardcase and they hurry away. After another long look, Echo and Fives move off with them, leaving you alone with Jesse. You stand there for a moment, watching them, the shame and the anger mixing into a sickening cocktail that's making it difficult to breathe. 

You can feel the eyes of the other men on you, but you refuse to meet their gaze. They must hate you for failing them, for putting their lives in danger, for letting their brothers die. You don't deserve their concern. You don't deserve their care. You're a failure, and they deserve better.

"Sir," Jesse says quietly, and the guilt rises up in your chest, choking you. He shouldn't be worried about you. He should be worrying about the rest of the men, the men that are lying dead on the battlefield, the men that are going to die because of you. 

"Let me help you," he continues when you don't respond. He lifts his hand, showing your lightsabers clasped within it. You didn't even realize he had picked them up. "You're going to need these."

"Right," you mutter, taking the hilts from him, the metal cool and smooth against your palms. You look down at them for a moment before clipping them to your belt. "Thank you."

"Anytime, sir," he replies, his voice warm and comforting. "We should go check on the General. See if we can't help him and the men."

You nod, and the two of you set off towards the wreckage. The sounds of the battle have faded now, and the only things that remain are the moans of the wounded and the crackling of the fires burning across the field. The sight is one that's all too familiar to you, and you know you should be grateful that there are so few casualties, but the feeling of defeat is overwhelming.

Obi-Wan stands, his hands on his hips, his head bowed. You can tell by the way he's holding himself that he's exhausted and sore. Still, he turns when you approach, a small smile on his face. 

"Well done, my dear. Though, I have to admit, you gave me quite the scare."

The brush of emotion through the Force is almost overwhelming, and you have to fight back the urge to cry. He's not angry. He's not disappointed. He's just...relieved, proud even. It's enough to make you break down and sob right then and there, but you manage to hold yourself together. There will be time for that later.

"Thanks," you mutter. "You alright?"

"Just a bit banged up," he says with a shrug. "It'll pass. How about you? How are you feeling?"

"Like a complete and utter failure," you answer honestly, your voice catching in your throat. You force out a laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "But what else is new."

Obi-Wan's smile falters, and his gaze slides from you to Jesse, who's standing silently beside you. "Give us a minute, please."

"Of course, General," Jesse replies, saluting before walking off to join the others. 

You watch him go for a moment before turning back to Obi-Wan, and the tears threaten to spill over. You can feel his compassion, his concern, his love. It's enough to bring you to your knees. 

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asks softly.

"I...I failed. I should have一"

"Enough," he cuts you off, his voice firm but kind. "You did the right thing. It was a calculated risk, and it could have paid off, but sometimes that's just how things work out."

"But I...Rex. And the men. If something happens..."

"Stop," he orders, and his voice is hard, the compassion gone. "You're spiraling. Listen to me: we will find Grievous. We will capture him. We will win this war. And, we will do it together."

The certainty in his voice is enough to convince you, and, for a moment, you believe him. You feel the anger fade and the shame abate. You know he's right. You know you have to stop letting the failures eat at you. You have to learn to let go. You have to trust. 

"I'm sorry. I'm trying. I really am."

"I know you are," he says gently. "And, I'm proud of you."

Obi-Wan steps closer, and he takes your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the scar on your forehead. His touch is soft and warm, and the contact is enough to make the tears fall. You look up at him, your gaze meeting his, and you know the emotion that passes between you is the same. "It will be alright. I promise."

"You can't promise that," you whisper.

"No," he replies, his voice low and his expression serious. "But I can try. We won't let him slip through our fingers. Not again."

The words are like a balm on your soul, and, for the first time since Rex was injured, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. You nod, and Obi-Wan's smile returns, though it's tinged with sadness.

"Now, please go see a medic," he says. "You're bleeding everywhere."

"Right," you laugh, sniffing and wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Will do, General."

"Good," he replies. Obi-Wan drops his hands and turns to leave, but he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. "There is one more thing, though. I know I'm not your Master, and that's not my place, but I would advise caution."

"What?" you ask, confused, and Obi-Wan smiles sadly at you.

"I saw how you fought today. How you lost yourself to the rage. I felt it," he says softly, and the words are enough to send a shiver down your spine. "I know you don't want to hear it, but it's the truth, and I won't stand by and watch it destroy you again."

You stare at him for a moment, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. Of course he noticed. He's always noticed. But, this is the first time in a long time he's said anything. "Obi-Wan..."

"Don't say anything. Just promise me you'll be careful," he says. "We can't lose you. I can’t lose you. Not to the dark."

"I promise," you reply, the words sticking in your throat.

"Good," he replies, his expression lightening. "Now, go get yourself checked out. Our pickup should arrive in the morning."

"Yes, sir," you reply, and the words come out more strongly than you feel. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, turning and striding away, the smile still on his lips.

You watch him for a moment before turning and looking across the battlefield. The fires are starting to die down now, and the moon hangs low in the sky. There's so much left to do, but, for the moment, you let yourself breathe, the air cool and sweet in your lungs.

You close your eyes and exhale, and then you start walking. You make your way across the field, your eyes searching for a familiar face. You see Cody in the distance, helping the men, but Rex is still nowhere to be found. Panic surges in your chest, but you take a deep breath and steady yourself, pushing the emotion away. It will do no good. You'll just have to trust that he'll return, safe and whole, when he's able.

As you walk, you pass the 501st. They're sitting in the dirt, their armor stained with dust and smoke, and their faces streaked with sweat. They're exhausted, but their morale is high. Fives is laughing with Hardcase, and Jesse is teasing Echo about the reg manual he keeps in his pocket. The sight fills you with warmth, and the tension eases from your body. Maybe you haven't failed. Not entirely.

"General!" Fives shouts as he catches sight of you. The others turn, and a chorus of greetings follows.

"Are you okay?"

"What's the word, sir?"

"Is General Kenobi alright?"

You blink, a little overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught. They're all staring at you, their eyes full of hope and concern, and, suddenly, you feel like you might burst into tears again. Instead, you smile, and you count off the questions on your fingers. "He's fine, we should be out of here by morning, and yes, I'm okay. How are you all holding up?"

"Better than you, by the looks of it," Fives replies, and then grins. "Nice work with that ship. That was some crazy Force stuff. Very impressive."

"Oh, it was nothing," you mutter. You move your arm to rub the back of your neck, failing to consider the deep gash in your shoulder, and the pain explodes across your skin. You let out a sharp hiss and close your eyes, waiting for the wave of agony to pass. "Ow."

"That's definitely not nothing," Jesse says dryly, before he turns his head and cups a hand over the side of his mouth. "Kix! Get over here!"

"I'm fine," you insist, and you open your eyes, glaring at him. "I've been through worse."

"Yeah," Hardcase replies. "We know, sir. We were there."

You can't help but laugh at the comment. "Fair point. Okay, you got me. It hurts. A lot."

"No shit," Kix snorts as he approaches. He's carrying a bag full of supplies, and his expression is stern. He grabs onto your uninjured shoulder and guides you to a fallen log, gently forcing you to sit. "Can I take a look now, or are you going to keep arguing with me?"

"Fine," you grumble. "Go ahead."

He kneels beside you and sets the bag down. The others hover nearby, pretending not to watch as Kix helps you remove your damaged chestplate. Your vambraces and remaining pauldron come off next, and together, you pull off your bloodied white tunic. Kix cuts into the grey bodysuit you wear underneath, and his deft fingers begin to peel the torn fabric away from the wound. The motion sends a jolt of pain through you, and you can't stop the grimace that twists your mouth.

Your shoulder is a mess of torn flesh and blood. It's an ugly sight, and the wound burns as the cool air hits it. Kix presses a clean cloth to it, and you wince. 

"Damn. That looks painful."

"It is," you hiss through gritted teeth. "But not as bad as it looks."

"Of course not. That's why your face is white as a sheet," he huffs. He glances up at the others. "Can someone get me some water?"

Hardcase is off like a shot. You're sure he’s just as eager to be helpful as he is to be anywhere but near Kix. You're glad. You don't need any more witnesses to the humiliation of this moment. Still, there's no denying the fact that you need medical attention.

"You should have said something," Kix grumbles as he begins cleaning the wound, his movements slow and gentle. The medic does his best to keep his emotions in check, but the occasional wave of irritation washes over you. He's upset, he feels helpless, he doesn't like it. You don't either. "It's been hours."

"Sorry," you murmur. "I was worried more about the men."

"You're always worried about the men," he sighs. "We're clones. It's what we do."

"Not always," you protest. "You're people too. You matter."

"So do you," Kix says firmly. "You know that, right?"

You shrug and immediately regret it as the motion sends a sharp spike of pain through your arm. "It's just...the war...you can't 一 fuck, that hurts 一 it's hard."

"Yeah," he says softly. "It is. But that's all the more reason to take care of ourselves. We have to stick together."

You nod. "Right. Sorry."

Kix shakes his head and continues cleaning the wound. He's quiet now, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. The others are still close by, but they're keeping their distance. It's probably for the best. You don't want them to see the tears forming in your eyes.

"Rex is going to have my head," Kix mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. You blink and look down at him. His expression is grim, his mouth twisted in a line as he ties off the last of your stitches. "He told me to watch you."

"Where is he?" you ask. Your heart leaps into your throat as the thought that he might have died flits through your mind. "Is he一"

"He's alive," Kix says quickly. "He's stable."

"He's resting," Jesse adds. He's not looking at you, but there's a grimace on his face. "We left him on a farm nearby. Some local family agreed to take him in and look after him."

"Oh, good,” you reply softly as the relief washes over you. "What happened?"

"We were ambushed by commando droids," he says, his tone dark. "One of the bastards got the jump on the Captain. Shot him clean through the chest."

You nearly fall off the log in shock. "What?"

"He's fine," Jesse insists. "Kix fixed him up. It's just...well...it was touch and go for a minute."

"But he's fine," Kix repeats. "The shot missed his heart by a few inches."

"And the other wounds?" you ask quietly. Your head dips down, but you don't miss the way Fives and Echo glance at each other. There's something unspoken between them, but you don't dwell on it, too focused on Kix's answer.

"Minor. Mostly bruises from the crash," Kix replies. "Hold still."

"Sorry," you mutter. The relief is making you a little woozy. You'd been so worried about him, but he's going to be fine. Everything's going to be okay. You're still alive. You're all still alive.

For once, everything is going to be fine. The buzzing of the Force in the back of your mind, the one that has been growing ever since you left Coruscant, seems to settle and calm, and you find yourself letting out a long sigh.

"Thank you, Kix."

"What for?" he asks. He's wrapping a bacta patch over the freshly sutured wound now, his movements quick and practiced. "For saving his life?"

"Yeah," you answer. "And for taking care of me."

"That's my job," he huffs. "I don't need thanks for doing it."

"Well, thank you anyway," you insist. He nods, and you can't help but smile at the faint blush that colors his cheeks. "I mean it."

"Okay," Kix says gruffly. "Enough chit-chat. Let's get this bandaged up."

He pulls out a length of gauze and starts wrapping it around your arm. The bacta is working its magic already, and the pain has eased. You can feel the exhaustion starting to set in, and your eyelids are beginning to droop.

Without the pain and the anger, and the fear, to keep you going, you're starting to crash. You know you should probably eat something too. You can't remember the last time you ate anything. Was it yesterday? The day before? It's hard to tell anymore. The days have begun to blur together.

"How are the others?" you ask, trying to stay focused. "Any serious injuries?"

"Mostly minor scrapes and bruises. Nothing we can't handle," Kix replies. He ties off the gauze and sits back on his heels, surveying his handiwork. "There. All set. That should hold until we can get you back to the ship."

"Great," you sigh. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Kix says. He stands up and brushes the dirt off his knees, and then he picks up the bag of supplies and turns to the others. "Don't let her sleep until she's eaten."

"I'm right here," you grumble, though there's no heat behind the words. You know they're just trying to look out for you, and, right now, the care and concern feels surprisingly nice.

"Right," Jesse snorts. He leans over and taps you on the forehead. "You still with us?"

"Yeah," you sigh, rubbing your eyes. "I'm awake."

"Good," Kix says, nodding his approval. He turns and heads towards the nearest group of clones, stopping to tend to a wounded trooper on the way.

Hardcase returns a few moments later, and you manage to drink the canteen of water he brings you, though the liquid threatens to come back up. You fight the urge, forcing yourself to take deep, even breaths. The food isn't any better, and you struggle through a few bites of nutrition bar before giving up. The taste is too much for your stomach, and you can't bring yourself to eat any more.

The boys don't seem to notice. They're talking about the fight and what they hope will happen next, and their voices are a steady, calming rhythm in the background. They're safe. They're alive. And, right now, that's all that matters.

You sit there for a while, your head resting on the tree behind you, listening to the sound of the clones laughing and joking around, the tension and fear finally fading.

Your eyes grow heavier and heavier, the exhaustion pulling at your limbs and lulling you into a state of relaxation. You can't remember the last time you felt this calm, and it's a relief to finally let go. You let yourself sink into the warmth of the Force, the energy swirling around you and wrapping you in its embrace.

After a few minutes, the darkness of unconsciousness swallows you whole, and the world fades away.

You dream of golden fields, but this time, the sun is shining, and the air is filled with the scent of wildflowers. The wind is cool and gentle, the sound of children's laughter echoing through the trees. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and, for the first time, you let yourself feel hope.

thanks @lordofthenerds97 for beta-ing this chapter!

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