#think i might abandon the gif set idea and just go straight to stills

[venbetta]

I'm not sure if anyone's ever thought about this or has made a post about it, but I figured I'd add my own two cents if someone did talk about this.

// Ruin spoilers ahead

mostly about Freddy

So, seeing that headless Freddy has prototype written on the bottom of his foot, it's suggested or even theorized that our Freddy (the one we're with in SB) was a prototype this entire time.

Of course, like many others, I was very skeptical and in denial about the idea because why the hell would that be a thing? How is he a prototype? It wasn't there on his foot in the base game, so why this sudden change?

I kinda hated it, and as a way to cope, I theorized that maybe it wasn't the same Freddy and FazEnt just replaced him with another copy and then abandoned him... don't ask me how that particular Freddy became headless either. Also I was wobbling between the "True Ending" being the Canon one, I was back and forth and just trying to figure out what would've made sense.

My logic for the True Ending being canon was, maybe Freddy and Gregory both got out (alongside Vanessa) with glamdaddy intact, and they're just living life. Meanwhile, Faz Ent just made a new Freddy while fixing the plex but gave up and left everything to rot. Of course I know now that makes no sense or explains why/how the 2nd Freddy lost his head, but it's what I came up with. The PQ Ending is technically canon... so that was a waste of a braincell, hah...

Since fnaf has the tendency to rewrite/add things to the story, I think our Glamrock Freddy being a prototype is something I've accepted. Now, there are a few things I thought of that might add to the idea of him being a prototype (not confirmed but more speculative).

He's a high-tech, sentient AI robot, he can clearly experience human emotion (like the other glamrocks) and has decent mobility. What most likely seperates him from the other glams is the fact that he experiences existentialism. I know we don't see much from the other glams, what they think of their current situation (not even from Roxy in Ruin), they aren't fully aware of what they are or what they're doing (as far as we know). Their programming is focused on being entertainers and birthdays.

I'm not gonna say that the other glams aren't able to express deeper thoughts, but I think this is where I might be stretching this idea just a bit.

If you're going to make AI bots who can adapt and be flexible with their environment, there's gotta be some kind of limit of what they can say/think/do. Freddy is the prime example of not having that limitation since we see/hear him express concern about not being the only Glamrock Freddy that's walking around:

"Have I always been a Freddy? Am I Monty with a different shell? What if I am not the first Glamrock Freddy? ... Do we all feel the same? Am I special? If I am mass-produced, am I still art?" (Endo Warehouse)

This motherfucker literally commits arson:

"You sure collected a lot of toys! Perhaps we can do something to stop whatever is going on here." (Fire escape Ending)

When he goes to the basement and encounters the blob, he goes on this monologue:

"I know what this is. I have been here before. She brought me here. I found myself for the first time when I cleared the path. I did not want to, but I had no choice. Now I have a choice. I have changed. My friends are here. They are so angry, confused. But I can protect you. I am not me." (True Ending)

He ultimately goes against some of his programming to help a child in need-- even lie to a security guard-- which if he were set to do as he's told, he would've sent Gregory straight to Vanessa, even with Gregory adamantly telling him not to.

If he were programmed to be strict and not break any protocols, he'd would've gotten Gregory killed immediately.

I'm saying this because if we're being realistic (realistic in terms of how we usually program robots and things), there are barriers in what a robot/ai can really say/do that doesn't break its programming. If he's a prototype, Freddy wouldn't have those barriers to stop him from saying/doing most of the things he did in SB. I know there's another factor to him behaving kindly to Gregory and that's him being in safe mode, but even still... you would think he would follow the rules and not let Gregory do certain things and perhaps unintentionally get the boy killed.

I'm going back to the existential crisis Freddy has, because for something that's meant to be an animatronic mascot for kids, you wouldn't want him to make the children around him question the meaning of being alive and sentient. There would have to be some sort of guard against having those kind of thoughts and ideas. It makes Freddy more interesting, especially if he could've been easily replaced with a finalized version of him that did what he was suppose to.

Also, I know it's probably more widely accepted that either Vanny or Gregory hacked into Freddy, causing his collapse during the opening. With him being a prototype, maybe his systems couldn't handle that type of an advanced hack, unlike the other glams, making him unable to be properly hacked into in the beginning.

Not only that, there are some issues he has with performing, who knows, maybe he's had collapses before. We don't know.

Him being unable to enter the West Arcade:

"When I step onto the West Arcade dance floor I cannot stop myself! It is a programming bug." (West Arcade)

I'm aware him being in safe mode meant he's disconnected from the main network as well keeps him docile. While the "Afton" fight isn't technically canon, with the other upgrades on Freddy, those parts might have made him more susceptible to the virus attack. There's not much evidence pointing to the other glams not being prototypes but seeing how they each have upgrades while Freddy doesn't, that might hint that the others were mostly finalized, meaning their systems were properly functioning (aside from the virus of course).

Sorry if this was super long, but it's something I thought about and I had to put it in words. Nothing about Glamrock Freddy is normal, like he's not possessed (I use to believe in the glammike theory but I don't anymore eh...), but he's a prototype! He's gonna act all funky because he's not polished yet... and I think that's very interesting and endearing (in an odd way).

[dixonlvr-online]

Day 2: Winter clothes

Day 2/28

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader, Carl Grimes x Reader (platonic), T-Dog x Reader (platonic)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The group breaks into a shopping center to find winter attire. Reader and Daryl share a moment.

A/N: So if you haven't read the masterlist description, all of these fics will be connected to each other, though they can be read separately as well. If you're interested in seeing the previous part, my masterlist is linked below :)

advent calendar masterlist

Christmas came early when your group stumbled upon an abandoned strip mall. The frigid weather had you shaking head to toe in your light summer layers, huddling together for warmth and praying for relief. When Glenn pointed out the road sign, rare smiles crossed your faces. Now, standing in front of the large and familiar department store, you felt like your prayers had been answered.

The doors had already been shattered, likely during the fall, so you all carefully stepped over the broken glass and clustered in the entryway, waiting for a signal. Rick finally nodded, setting you free to go wild.

A large portion of your group headed straight for the winter clothing, the thick layers looking delicious from the breezy entrance. You raced Carl over, his youthful adrenaline beating yours easily. Still, you smiled. This was the most hopeful you’d felt in weeks.

“Hey, check these out!”

You turned to the sound of T-Dog’s voice, beckoning you over to a large rack of coats. Ski jackets, puffer coats, fleece hoodies, you name it. They all tempted you forward, begging you to run your hands over the fabric. You reached for the closest one, then realized something. You were still wearing gloves.

You peeled them off slowly, delicately placing them in your pocket like the precious objects they were. Daryl had lent them to you on a particularly cold night and insisted you keep them. You knew there was no point arguing; he would never let you freeze, but still, you felt bad every time you saw his chapped knuckles. Looking around, you spotted a display of gloves in the distance. Perhaps you’d find a pair you liked and return Daryl’s to him. Though you would miss their pliable leather and golden memories.

“How do I look?”

T-Dog modeled his outfit to you: a neon blue puffer coat layered over a reindeer-patterned ski jacket layered over a plaid fleece jacket. His arms were held stiffly beside him, but his grin was huge. You laughed at the sight.

“You look great! Definitely runway ready.”

He gave you a twirl, a failed attempt at grace when he started careening off to the side. As your laughter grew, you felt a presence beside you. Turning to face Daryl, who was chewing on his bottom lip nervously, you beamed.

“Find anything you like? I think this might fit you,” you said, holding up a polka-dot coat. He scoffed, shaking his head at your teasing.

“Nah. Don’t need anythin’. It’d look good on you, though.”

You knew he was just teasing you back, but your cheeks grew hot regardless. Just the idea of him thinking you look good in anything sent your head spinning. Averting your eyes, you began rummaging through the rack again, glancing at him as he fidgeted in your peripheral.

Since giving you his gloves, he’d seemed to warm up to you more. Less distant, at least. He always stood beside you on the long treks, set up a sleeping spot nearby every night, and didn’t shut you down when you started a conversation with him. You weren’t sure what had changed, or if anything had, but you liked it. 

“Aw man, look at this!”

You and Daryl followed the voice, catching sight of Carl and T-Dog by the hat display. Atop Carl’s head was the most ridiculous hat you’d ever seen: some odd mix of earmuffs and cap in the ugliest shade of green you’d ever seen. You met Daryl’s eyes, and it was clear he was stifling a laugh as well.

“Lookin’ good, kid!” you yelled, Carl’s face lighting up when he heard you. 

T-Dog had a hand to his chest, leaning back in amusement. “Player ova here! Yo Glenn, check him out!”

From around the corner, Glenn and Maggie appeared with rosy cheeks and arms full of fabric. Maggie had a nice new scarf around her neck and Glenn had finally found a replacement for his baseball cap in the form of a warm beanie. They grinned at the sight of Carl, who was now flaunting his new hat and putting on a good show.

You watched Daryl, attempting to conceal his smile, but the crinkles beneath his eyes gave him away. He startled when he caught you looking, but when he saw you smiling back, his shoulders dropped. Was the lone wolf actually having a good time with you all?

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you said, reaching into your pocket. You pulled out the gloves and held them out to him, waiting for him to take hold. Instead, he tilted his head at you in question. “They’re yours,” you explained. “I can find some new ones here if you want them back.”

He grunted, shaking his head and pushing the gloves back to you. “Nah, keep ‘em. They’re yours now.”

Your brows cinched together, eyes once again focusing on the cracked skin of his hands. “Are you sure? You might need them.”

Again he shook his head, his expression stern. You always knew he was stubborn, but it didn’t bother you the way it used to. Maybe his stubbornness was becoming an accessory and not a personality, one he used for good without letting it control him. This new skin he wore suited him.

Needing to be closer, you placed a light hand on his arm. His body heat radiated beneath your touch, sending that tingle through you again. His eyes met yours, his gaze soft and deep and overwhelming all at once. Your breath hitched when you tried to speak, to thank him. Words were lost to you. He got the message anyway. The gloves never felt warmer.

[hareharrison]

hold me

pairing: george harrison x reader

summary: george is in the process of finishing abbey road, and has been repeatedly coming home frustrated. instead of talking to you about it, he distances himself completely, and only speaks to you in annoyance or anger, and lashes out on you. he doesn’t know how much it affects you and one day comes home to the effects firsthand.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angy geo, neurodivergent reader, invasive thoughts, mental breakdown/panic attack, but it works out in the end

a/n: hayyyy ok so i wrote this as a comfort fic for myself, and i decided to post it cause why not. i struggle with intense fear of abandonment cause of bpd haha fun 😐and wanted to make it from the POV of a neurodivergent reader?? so this is like a comfort fic for ND readers?? idk if i need to put any other potential trigger warnings for this but if i do please lmk and i will fix it

year: 1969

the flat was quiet without him. to be honest, it was quiet with or without him, lately. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, george had been distant. he was always a quiet person, but he has never dismissed you this much. you knew that his job could be tiring and you tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. a voice in your head was planting horrible ideas, saying things like, “you fucked up, he doesn’t like you anymore, you’re annoying.” but still, you pushed on and tried your best to ignore the noise in your brain.

you sigh heavily and slide back into the couch. you had the next two days off of work, and nothing to do. george of course had to work on your days off, which left you alone at home. with your thoughts. it was hard getting through today, your intrusive thoughts were particularly loud... but he would be home any minute now, which brought on a bit of hope; seeing him should rid you of your own jailhoused mind.

the tv played some sitcom in front of you, which you had no interest in. all you could think about was if you ruined things. what if he was thinking of leaving you? it would be your fault... and yet you couldn’t think of a single thing you’ve ever done that might have hurt him.

the door opened gently and let in a cool draft that brushed against your warm skin. you look toward the entrance, seeing your george sigh heavily with exhaustion as he took his shoes and coat off. he looked up to you, his boldly furrowed brows softening.

“hi, love,” he says, walking toward you. you stand and approach him to greet him with a quick kiss. he holds you for a little longer than usual, and you take the opportunity to melt into his arms and breathe in his smell, something you’d been deprived of recently. he rests his chin on top of your head, which laid comfortably on his rising chest. it was moments like this that made all your worries slip away, moments like this that you wished you could cling onto forever and ever.

“how was your day?” you ask, finally leaning back to look up at him. he lets go of you and runs a hand through his long hair.

“not good,” he says, a frown on his perfectly sculpted face. you return his expression at the sight of him being sad. quickly, you remember your dinner ideas. maybe that would cheer him up.

“hey, maybe we can go get something to eat? maybe get your mind off of things?” you suggest, looking up at his brown eyes. he looks down at you, eyes full of regret.

“i’m sorry love, but i’d rather just head to bed already,” he says remorsefully. you smile softly and reassure him that it’s okay and he should get some rest. but part of you breaks inside, knowing he doesn’t want to spend time with you.

he headed upstairs and you followed, the painful ideas returning at full speed.

“you’re so annoying, of course he doesn’t want to spend any time with you. you’re so annoying and clingy,” your brain says and you flinch at the harsh thoughts. through your entire bedtime routine, thoughts flooded your mind and filled your entire being up, and you felt like you were being drowned from the inside out. george stood next to you as you both brushed your teeth, not speaking a single word to you or giving you a single glance. you changed into one of george’s t-shirts and watched as he slid out of his clothes and into his pajamas in seconds. he muttered a monotone, “good night,” before turning on his side, his back facting you.

as much as you didn’t want to, you believed the mean voices and hung your head as you got into bed next to george.

you slept back to back that night.

————————————————————

the sun seeped into your room through your windows, and invaded your bed, waking you rather unpleasantly. you groan lightly as you reached over your bed for george, but only found empty space. his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been up for a while now.

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and morning dew hit your senses. you hear the song of the early birds chirping as your feet hit the cool floor. as you head downstairs, you can hear george on the phone, and you soon see him muttering softly before taking a long drag from his cigarette. you don’t bother him, seeing that there was paperwork on the table and his call must be business related. naturally, you decide to head for the coffee, the smell luring you in like a fish.

you poured the hot, dark liquid into your favorite mug and add in your preferred amounts of cream and sugar. looking out the window, you see water drip gently from the leaves of a tree that george and you had planted a year ago. you sip your coffee and reminisce about the times you used to actually spend time with george. how nice it was, seeing him smile so often.

you suddenly hear george raise his voice at the phone, something unlike him entirely. you jump at the unpleasant sound before peeking through the hallway to see what on earth was happening.

“no, i don’t care! i want the bloody bastard fired, in fact, tell him not to bother showing up today,” he shouts into the phone before slamming it down, placing his head between his knees and groaning in frustration. seeing george this upset and acting out on it was truly a rare sighting, and you thought carefully about what to next.

after careful consideration, you tiptoe into the room and gently rest a hand on his shoulder, the sudden contact making him flinch.

“christ, (y/n) are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?” he grumbles before lighting another cigarette.

“sorry,” you say softly, “would you like some tea?” you figure it could calm his anger and soothe some of his abnormal irritability.

���what? tea? there’s already coffee made,” he says rudely. you take a step back, saying nothing. you know that you didn’t do anything and that this behavior would pass. george was never like this. your eyes find the time and see that george should have left ten minutes ago.

“george, you’re gonna be late to work,” you say, thinking you could at least do something helpful. his head snaps back at you and his once soft face turned hard with anger.

“what are you implying? you want me gone?” he stands up and angrily grabs all of the papers scattered on the table, shoving them into a folder and the folder into his bag, “fine, i’ll leave. im out the door.”

you look at him in confusion, you’d barely woken up and were just trying to help, “what’s the matter with you?”

“what’s the matter with me,” he repeats, looking away and scoffing. he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, “im sick of this, (y/n)! im sick of life. i come home exhausted and you have half a mind to ask me if i want to talk about it!”

“you always want to go straight to bed,” you defend yourself, hurt that he would even suggest that you don’t care about him. his dark eyes glare into your own for a moment that feels like hours, trying to think of somethig clever to say in response, but he just wasn’t ever much of a fighter. he finally chooses to put his cigarette out on the table’s ashtray and grab his coat. if you wanted him out of the house, he was more than happy to comply.

“george-“ you start.

“no,” he cuts you off, “don’t say anything right now, i can’t even look at you.” and he doesn’t, he ignores your presence entirely as he picks up his bag and walks out the door.

you’re left in the cold house, alone, hurt, and dumbfounded. you couldn’t believe what had just happened. you couldn’t believe that george, your george, had taken his anger out on you, simply for trying to help his morning be less shitty. worse than that, he thought you wanted him gone, when all you wanted was to be with him. is this how it was going to be now? a bitter, loveless relationship? your eyes sting with fresh tears at the thought, and a huge lump in your throat grows painfully. you take a deep breath before heading upstairs. you wanted anything but to cry this early in the morning, and the only reason you got up somewhat early was to see george before he left to work. now that your morning was ruined, you figured heading back to bed was the next best thing.

you climb back into your shared bed, suppressing your emotions with the warmth of your fluffy blankets and soft pillows. the comfort of a bed felt almost like a hug, and you sighed, letting the pain drift away as you fell asleep.

————————————————————

when you opened your eyes, the realization hit you. you’d slept until the sun began to set, completely ignoring your emotions, stuffing them down inside of you like an overflowing trash can. being awake made them fling right back at you; sleeping didn’t change a thing, and was only a temporary pause in your pain.

all of your feelings came back to you at once, and it once again felt like you were drowning internally. only this time, the thoughts weren’t the invasive factor. your emotions were overwhelmingly intense on top of your brain practically screaming horrible things to you. your breathing quickens as you feel tears slide down your face. this time you werent able to swallow the thick lump in your throat, and you began to weep softly.

this was it, george was leaving you. he hates you, he wants nothing to do with you. there was nothing you could do but hug your knees and cry. you choked on a sob and started rocking back and forth in attempts to try to soothe yourself. but you couldn’t stop, it felt like your entire world was falling apart. you soon began to have shortness of breath and struggled with your breathing, feeling your heart beat at an intense rate that you couldn’t control.

your bedroom door opens, revealing george’s early arrival. he immediately rushes to your side, afraid to touch you but wanting so bad to comfort you.

“(y/n)? (y/n), breathe. breathe, baby,” he takes your hand and you look at him. you aren’t sure if him being here is making the situation better or worse. seeing him try to help you stirred all kinds of feelings in your mind. you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, like you didn’t deserve his help.

george begins breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth, gently guiding you and hoping you will try to do the same. he sits in front of you on the bed and holds your face in his gentle hands. you look up into his eyes, the chocolate features of his face soothing you as your breath began to steady.

“that’s it,” he encourages.

“do you hate me?” you cry softly.

“what? no, (y/n), i’d give my life for yours, do you know that? you’re so, very special to me,” he slides over to sit beside you on the bed and wraps his long arms around you.

“why are you so distant?” you look up at him, and tears continue to roll down your flushed cheeks, “you acted so mean to me this morning, i feel like you want nothing to do with me.”

george is hurt by your words. he truly didn’t mean to be distant, and he never wanted to hurt you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “ive been so overwhelmed i haven’t stopped to think of how you must feel. im really sorry my love i never meant to hurt you like this.” he embraces you tightly and you give into his comforting touch, wrapping your arms around his torso and digging your face into his chest. 

you take a deep breath, “i understand,” you say before looking up to him to whisper, “i miss you. i miss us.”

“i miss you too darling,” he pauses for a moment, “how about i take tomorrow off? we can do whatever you’d like.”

you sniffle, “what about the album? the deadline?” 

“i can fake sick. nothing is more important to me than you,” he says, “i want nothing more than to be with you. i love you so much.”

you smile when he presses a soft kiss to your aching head, “now how about we go have something to eat? i’m starved.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,759 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, references to gore, mentions of anxiety, disturbing imagery, typical TWD stuff Summary: Daryl and Y/N are outside the walls when they hear a baby crying. A/N: THIS IS SO SOFT I MIGHT DIE. Requested by anonymous! Hope you like it! Thanks for the request!

Your name: submit What is this?

You froze. You glanced back at the archer, “D’you hear that?” you asked him in a harsh whisper.

Daryl strained his hearing. “Heard somethin’.”

You’d been venturing out with Daryl for tracking lessons for quite some time. He’d been somewhat opposed to the idea at first, not liking the idea of you wandering around outside the walls, but you’d worn him down. Now, you were getting quite good at reading sign and he had noticed that you seemed to be much more observant, vigilant as you moved through the trees. Your footsteps were nearly silent.

You straightened up, turning from the trail of the deer you’d been tracing, and Daryl watched as you turned to the side, your eyes lifted to some unknown distant point in the trees.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing the slightly anxious look on your face.

You shook your head almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling more than anything.” You glanced back at him and were met with his steady blue eyes. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment. “Come on,” you said, stepping away from the deer trail and moving in the direction you thought the sound had come from.

You didn’t have to go far before you heard the sound again, and this time it was much clearer. Your wide eyes met Daryl’s, his brow heavily furrowed. Your stomach twisted. You turned and increased your pace.

You moved through the brush as quietly as you could and finally you saw a shape looming ahead. It was an abandoned house, more of a shack really than anything. The sound was clear now as you crouched at the edge of the lot. Daryl knelt beside you and you exchanged a harried glance with him.

It was a baby crying and it was coming from inside the house. There were about a dozen walkers beating on the rotten woods of the dilapidated structure. It looked like it wouldn’t be long before they broke in.

Daryl worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “S’a lot of walkers,” he murmured.

You gulped and looked back. “We have to do something.”

He sighed, hesitating, his eyes flickering between your face and the group of the dead.

You couldn’t wait anymore. There was a swell of urgency growing in your chest, like a high tide rushing in. You swore under your breath and unsheathed the knife at your hip. You rushed out of the brush and right toward the walkers.

Daryl scrambled up to follow you.

You plunged your knife into the skull of the first walker lurching at you and immediately repeated the action with another. As you pulled your knife out, you landed a kick into one of the dead who was grappling for you.

Daryl was soon beside you, slashing and stabbing just like you were to clear the way to the building.

By the time you were done, you were drenched in sweat and Daryl looked at the circle of now still corpses around you. There was a spray of walker blood across your neck. He was about to scold you for rushing in, but he was taken aback by the number you had killed, and you weren’t done with your somewhat frantic mission.

You charged to the door and saw that it was splintered from the latch. They’d almost broken through. You turned the handle and pushed inside. You froze with just one foot inside the small house.

Daryl looked in past you, over your shoulder.

There was the desperately wailing baby, still swaddled to its mother in a makeshift carrier. She was dead. You made a lunge toward the infant, but Daryl’s hand clasped your shoulder gently and stopped you. You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening with tears and your expression pure desperation.

He nodded. “We dunno what she died from. And she could turn at any second. Be careful,” he murmured.

You nodded at him and he lifted his hand. You approached the prone figure cautiously, all the while the baby’s cries piercing straight through you. You knelt down and carefully lifted the swaddled infant from the body of its mother, being careful and kind to the body of the woman who had probably given her everything to see that her child survived.

Daryl watched as you murmured to the infant in a soft voice, shushing and humming. “Shhh, it’s alright. It’s okay.” You pressed the baby to your chest and stood, bouncing slightly to try and soothe the cries. Eventually, she stilled. You glanced up at Daryl, your eyes still wide and glistening, although no tears stained your cheeks.

He was staring at you with a curious expression on his face. It was soft and thoughtful. He shouldered the strap of his crossbow and moved farther into the house, looking around. “Gotta be some supplies for that baby here somewhere, right?” he said. He felt the need to focus on a task because looking at you with the little bundle against your chest was bringing to life some warm, fluttery feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Hopefully,” you said, wrapping the sling around yourself and settling the baby inside. You smiled sweetly as she grasped your finger and a little laugh of joy bubbled out of you. Daryl looked up from his search and saw you smoothing your hand over her soft hair. “She has to be starving,” you said, your eyes a little starry.

Daryl tore his eyes away from the scene again. “Mm,” he acknowledged, the best he could do because he was worried what might slip out if he said any more. “Here,” he said, picking up a small duffel bag. It had some bottles and formula in it, as well as cloth diapers and a baby toy.

He shouldered the bag and walked back to you, peeking in over your shoulder at the little face pressed against you, your finger in her tiny, curled hand. “C’mon,” he said softly, surprising himself and you as his hand landed lightly on your lower back. “Let’s get her back somewhere safe.”

You looked up into his face and saw that his expression was open, earnest, soft. Your heart jumped. You nodded, but hesitated a moment when he started to head toward the door. Daryl looked back when he didn’t feel you behind him and saw that you were staring down at the still figure on the floor. “We can’t just leave her like this. She’ll turn,” you said softly, your brow furrowing.

He gulped and nodded. “Alright. Just wait outside a sec. I’ll do it,” he said, unsheathing his knife.

You gave him a sad but grateful look, pressing the baby against you more securely and nodded. “Thank you.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You arrived back at the gate to Alexandria and Rosita let you in. Her eyes went wide when she realized what you exactly that bundle slung across your chest was. She came closer and peeked into the sling, her eyes flitting up to meet yours.

“We found her in an abandoned house, surrounded by walkers. Her mom was already dead,” you whispered. She was sleeping against you.

Rosita’s expression was sad for a moment, but then she smiled at the rosy cheeks and long eyelashes fanned out against the little girl’s cheeks. “Preciosa,” she murmured.

You smiled up at her.

Daryl was watching the whole interaction from a couple feet away and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so soft and gentle, the look in your eyes like you’d never seen something more beautiful in your whole life. He kept feeling waves of warmth blooming out from his core and suddenly seemed unable to stand still, shifting his weight and tapping his fingers against his leg. “We should take her to get checked out by the doc,” Daryl said quietly.

You nodded, giving Rosita one last smile and then falling into stride beside him.

Daryl glanced over at you as you walked to the clinic. You caught him studying your face and gave him a questioning look.

“I wanted to yell at ya out there for rushin’ in like that,” he said. He glanced again at the baby. “But I get it. If you hadn’t, I woulda.”

You nodded. “I don’t what happened—I just couldn’t sit there and let them get her, even if it meant I might—” you broke off, not wanting to speak what was always a real possibility outside the walls.

“Yeah. Ya killed like seven of ‘em yourself before I even got there,” he said, slight amusement turning one corner of his mouth up.

You smiled abashedly. “Yeah…”

“I mean, I know ya can fight but—” he broke off, shaking his head, that vague smile still slightly curving his lips.

You arrived at the clinic and Daryl led the way inside. Denise looked up as he came in and immediately sighed. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me one of you needs stitches again?”

But she froze when you stepped in with that swaddled bundle in your arms.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, bewildered, as you wandered over.

“Can you take a look at her?” you asked, lifting her out of the sling that was draped around you. She woke and stirred, immediately starting to cry again. The sound tugged at your heart.

Denise nodded. “Of course. Bring her over here,” she said, leading the way to a cushioned exam table.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. It’s alright,” you cooed, setting her down on her back. You offered your finger and she gripped it tightly. You smiled up at Daryl and his heart skipped a beat at the breathtaking light in your eyes and that irresistible grin. “She feels strong. That’s good, right?” you asked, turning to Denise.

She was setting her stethoscope aside. “Lungs and heart sound great. She looks healthy.” She glanced up at you. “I don’t know exactly what happened out there, but I have a hunch she’s lucky you found her.”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“I think I saw some baby formula and other stuff you might need in the supply room. Lemme just check,” Denise said.

You scooped the little girl back up into your arms and her cries immediately became less desperate. You pressed her to your shoulder and rubbing her back softly, shushing her and bouncing, pressing her soft hair to your cheek. “Daryl, would you mind making up a bottle for her?” you asked.

He nudged his nose up in a nod, and you felt warmth in your face as you watched the tough biker pull out the canister of formula and a bottle, which looked tiny in his hand. You smiled to yourself as he went to mix up a bottle.

Denise returned with another canister of powdered formula and more cloth diapers as well as some other odds and ends for baby care. She shoved them into the bag Daryl had found at the abandoned house. Denise smiled and smoothed a hand over her soft hair. “Pretty amazing. Everyone is going to lose their minds over her. Little ones are so rare now,” she said. “First Judith and now this sweet little one.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Daryl and I had waited until tomorrow to go tracking, or if I had just ignored the first sound I heard.”

Denise nodded. “But you didn’t. And she’s safe and healthy now.”

Daryl came back with a bottle he had warmed slightly in the microwave and you grinned at him as he handed it to you. You adjusted her in your arms and she immediately latched on to the bottle and started eating. Daryl studied the tender expression on your face, that little smile that seemed like it might stay there forever now. He reached a hand up and rubbed absently at the ache in his chest. You looked up at Denise again. “Thanks, Denise,” you said. “We should head back to the house.”

“Anytime.” Denise gently smoothed her hand over the tiny girl’s hair one more time and gave you a kind smile.

You and Daryl started back toward the house at a leisurely pace. He still had the bag slung over his shoulder and you watched as she drank the formula hungrily. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on your face again and you glanced up at him.

“This mean you’re a mom now?” the archer drawled. You were struck by the question your eyebrows lifted.

“Huh… I hadn’t really thought about it that way,” you said, adjusting the bottle in your hand and looking back down at the little one in your arms. “She needs a mom. And I’m here,” you said softly. “I guess so,” you said, looking back up at Daryl. “Life is strange,” you said, shaking your head, peering back down at her.

“Mhm,” Daryl agreed. “She’s lucky to have ya.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

You were immediately swarmed by the group when you arrived back at the house. Everyone pressed in to see the baby, cooing and smiling. She was going to be so loved.

“Can I hold her?” Carol asked immediately.

“Hey! Nuh uh!” Daryl said, hurrying to set down the baby bag and his crossbow. “I helped save her and I ain’t even held her yet. Give her here,” he said, holding his arms out.

You grinned at him and carefully passed her to Daryl. He smiled down at her, rocking her from side to side. The sight of him with that sweet little baby in his strong arms was doing things to you… You hoped your face wasn’t turning red from the flush of heat you felt. “She needs a name,” you said thoughtfully.

“Easy. Lil’ Asskicker 2.0,” Daryl said, letting her grasp onto his finger. Everyone had a good laugh about that.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night you fell asleep on the floor of the living room with the little girl beside you on a blanket. You were curled around her and she was pressed close against you, needing the comfort of someone to sleep.

Daryl was sitting on the couch nearby, alternating between cleaning and sharpening his blades and thoughtfully watching you sleep beside the new group member.

Carol leaned on the back of the couch beside him, looking over at you and the baby, smiling. Daryl turned to look at her.

“It’s nice to be reminded that good things can still happen,” she said softly.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, nodding. He flicked his thumb over the edge of the knife blade he was sharpening, testing to see if it needed more. “Ya should have seen her out there. She just ran right into this group of walkers and started takin’ ‘em out.”

Carol’s smile widened. “Maternal instinct,” she said. She glanced over at the archer and saw his blue eyes fixated on you. “Looks like she has a mom. She’s going to need a dad.”

Daryl’s eyes snapped over to peer back at Carol, his brow furrowing low. He scoffed a little at her statement. “She’s got a whole group of us. She don’t need me.”

“So, you wouldn’t like that? Having your own little family within our big family? Especially with Y/N…” she said, a knowing smile on her face. “Come on, your ears turn red every time she enters the room!”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably as Carol spoke a wish that was close to his heart, but which he was too terrified to act on.

Carol quit her teasing and sighed, looking back at you and the little one sleeping peacefully. “You’re not your father, Daryl. You’re you. And you’d be an amazing dad,” she said. “And if you don’t try, find something worth holding onto, worth protecting, what’s the point anymore?” And more than anything, Daryl knew that you were worth protecting. And now so was this little one. So, maybe it was time that he tried for what he wanted.

[theravencawsatmidnight]

A gift for the engineer 💚

Pt ii

ily Karl.

Tags. @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard

Part 1 at the bottom. The Lycans are giant fur babies okay? I will fight anyone who disagrees.

Heisenberg wasted no time getting you up on your feet to lead you out of the room. He had to steady your wobbly body a few times but you managed to stand. Your little dog ears wiggled around at all these new heightened senses too; everything was louder, clearer and your sense of smell was 10x better.. But you wish it wasn't.

“Cmon cmon, i was in the middle of something and i need to make you a room” he pestered in a playful tone while patting your back till you moved. A quick step and you had latched onto his arm tugging the heavy coat he was wearing trying to get him to look at you. You still had your cuffs and muzzle on, you at least wanted these things removed before going anywhere..The man tipped his head down at you giving you the same smile as before and simply said “lets go Chisel” . Maybe.. Maybe he was going to remove them at this new place.. He pat your hand with his free one and strolled out of the room with you, holding the chain attached to your cuffs tight.

It was so cold outside.. Instantly you felt goosebumps crawl up your arms to your neck and back making the cuts sting and you whine into the muzzle. The Lycan was following from behind too. The village looked abandoned , destroyed, in pieces. There was no life in this village, not anymore. Heisenberg tugged the chain and you tripped over your feet following him down a path through the woods, brittle leaves cracking under your bare feet and his massive hammer he dragged behind him.

This man had bits of metal hovering around him while he walked; he seemed to attract it and it floated around him till he sent it away. Was he some kind of magic being? You reached up poking a rusted scrap metal sending it to float away hitting a tree and falling to the ground. It got a chuckle out of Heisenberg. Oh this will be fun he thought.

You were falling behind a bit now, you were freezing in this snow and these tattered clothes were no help at all. Your steps got smaller and your knees wobbled, blurry vision and breathing was hard to do ...even a fire would help just for a minute.. Its hard to keep up.. Everything feels weak, heavy. Your grip on Heisenberg's coat was giving way and you stumbled a few times. He looked down at you with an impatient groan.

“Chisel is it really that hard to walk in a straight line? Hell the Lycans are walking better than … oh.” he stopped to see you holding yourself shivering in place with a Lycan next to you looking confused. Heisenberg leaned his hammer on a nearby tree to lift his glasses and rub his eyes, hand on his hip. “What am i gonna do with you? “ he asked himself.

You tried to speak but the muzzle was making it difficult , everything was cold and it was making it hard to stand up. You could not feel your feet and you were pretty sure you were frozen to the ground. The Lycan nudged your leg trying to get you to move but you just stood there staring at nothing.

“Rrr…”

“I know i know” Heisenberg said to the Lycan, pulling his coat off and wrapping you up in it. “Already too much trouble and we aren't even there yet. Hup!” he picked you up bridal style and continued his walk through the path. “Maybe ill put a heating source in you that should prove handy” he told himself while he walked. The Lycan following close with the hammer in its mouth like a proud boy.

It was so warm… so warm.. You felt as if you were thawing out.. You could feel the chill on your face again and hear the clicking of the chain bounce around with each step. The coat covered you leaving just your toes to deal with the cold but you did not mind it too much. You peaked up at the man to see him looking straight ahead paying you no mind. He did not seem upset that he had to carry you. So warm… you were so warm.. It was becoming hard to stay awake. Everything got smaller till there was nothing at all.

**

The thick smell of smoke woke you up and the sound of what seemed to be an elevator, the creaky gears trying their hardest to work. The light fading in and out over your eyes making you whine and nuzzle your face away into Heisenberg's chest to hide from it. Heisenberg was too deep in thought right now to respond. A room… a safe room for you. Keep his experiments out and away from you. Where was he going to put you while he made that !? Gawd. he wanted to experiment on you too. Hmm.. a heat source if you ever go outside. Weapon? The Lycans dont bother you but his damn family might try to get their dirty hands on you. So much to think about.

The elevator creaked to a stop and Heisenberg walked out seeing his factory staring back at him. Clicking and clacking, gears turning, heavy smoke making its way out of the factory into the sky . Lycans were running rampant everywhere , fighting with each other and howling into the sky once they see Heisenberg step out of the elevator. Most of them jumped down to where the man was sniffing at you and the Lycan who was holding the hammer. They seemed very interested in you and wanted to lick you all over to figure out who and what you were.

“Now now” he shook them off stepping over the Lycans walking down some steps to a small room. “This should beeeee okay . right?” he asked the Lycan following him who spit the hammer out to go in the room. “Stay here with Chisel, i wont be long. And do not, eat, her.” Heisenberg set you down in his chair placing his hat on you. “Ill be back in a little bit.” he picked up some pliers from his desk freeing you of the muzzle and cuffs. “Stay here. You wont get far if you run.” and with that he left,he grabbed his hammer and then the door locking it behind him with a few clicks.

You looked around fast pulling the coat closer seeing a dark room with a big vent in the corner, you could hear screaming coming from it and hoped whatever it was, it could not climb. Your eyes landed on the Lycan and he was sitting, staring at you with a tilted head and his tongue hanging out.

[midgardianweasley]

Keep you safe

Keep you safe

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Avenger!reader

Summary: When the civil war breaks out among the team, what happens when you find yourself and your girlfriend on opposite sides of the fight?

Warnings: Extremely minor cursing, angst, injury, ends in fluff

Word Count: 1.8k words

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist <3

Requests are open!

“Vision, you can’t keep her prisoner here” I announced to what seemed like a brick wall. The S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting was only this morning and already it felt like the team was beginning to drift. Tony and Steve were fighting, not being able to agree on where they stand regarding the Sokovia Accords and whether we should sign our rights away. Wanda, not being a US citizen and having been a big part of the incident in Sokovia, has been put under Vision’s watch for protection. But from what i’ve seen, I think Wanda can protect herself just fine.

“It’s not imprisonment, Y/N, this is for her safety.”

“Safety? She’s fully capable of walking to the shops on her own.”

“I think some members of the team would disagree, Nata-”

“Don’t, Vision. Please.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, the stress going straight to my temples upon remembering the events from this morning with my girlfriend.

Nat and I had just walked out of the meeting room, thoughts flooding both of our heads. We were exhausted, the emergency meeting not giving us enough time to wake up with a coffee before having to be fully functional. My head was resting on her shoulder, her head on top of mine as we stood in an abandoned corridor, revelling in the peace and quiet. It was a few minutes before one of us decided to speak up.

“You okay, голубка?” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head before returning to her previous position.

“Mhmm, I think so. My head is officially fried though and it’s not even 9am yet.”

“We’ll get some coffee in us soon.”

“I think we’ve earned it” I mumbled, earning a slight chuckle from the both of us, returning back to the silence for only a couple of minutes before a thought crossed my mind.

“I feel bad for Wanda. She must feel terrible.”

“I know. Hopefully this whole Accords business can be of help.”

“Well, that would be nice, but we’re obviously not signing that.” An airy laugh left my lips, amused at the idea of signing away any freedom we could have for ourselves. I felt Nat’s body go rigid beside me, suddenly feeling tense. I pulled away slightly and looked up to see a frown taking over her features.

“You’re not going to sign?” She spoke, suddenly sounding more awake, albeit still having a gentle tone, but I could feel the disbelief behind her words.

“I wasn’t planning on it, no. Are you?”

“I feel like it would be a good idea. Maybe we need a little more guidance to go about our missions.”

“This isn't guidance, Nat. This is essentially locking us away just without the bars.”

“It’s protection.”

“It’s losing our freedom!” I bluntly responded, almost shocked that we weren’t on the same page about this. We both stood across from each other now, arms crossed and staring into each other's eyes, all tiredness beforehand gone and replaced with fire.

“I need some air” She groaned, walking away towards the exit, signalling the end of that conversation.

“Nat-”

“I’ll see you at home, okay?” Not giving me a chance to respond, having walked out the door before I could utter a word. I guess coffee is the least of my problems now.

Lost in my daydream, I hadn’t even noticed that Clint had walked in and was currently fighting Vision. Wait, Clint?

“Clint? I thought you retired?”

“Ah nice to have you back.” He choked, currently caught in a headlock with Vision. I stood next to Wanda, the two of us sharing a look of confusion. “We need to go, Cap needs us.”

“You can’t overpower me, Clint.” Vision spoke, still holding his grip.

“I know i can’t, but she can”

I looked beside me once again and saw Wanda beginning to use her powers, and before I knew it, Vision had fallen to the ground..and further until we could no longer see him.

“We need to go” The archer rushed, taking Wanda by the hand and leading her outside. I was yet to be clued in on what exactly was going on, but I knew one thing, this couldn’t be good.

---

It was absolute chaos everywhere. Steve, much like Tony, had recruited a small team of his own, some familiar faces, some new, the ant guy was pretty cool. However, there hadn’t been much time to admire the different skill sets and powers that had been brought to the table before both sides had run towards each other. Especially considering seeing the recognisable assassin on the other side had brought on a wave of sickness, fighting her was the last thing I wanted to do.

While Bucky had taken to fighting who I assumed to be Blank Panther and Sam was in the air, I’d stuck to helping Steve, not wanting to get involved in the fight Clint was having with Natasha. This teenager had started shooting webs at Captain, and while I know he was on the opposite side, I had to admit, he was pretty good at fighting.

“He also said to go for your legs” He chuckled, again shooting webs at the supersoldier and holding him back from retrieving his shield.

“Hey Spidey” I called, gaining his attention.

“Hi”

“Might wanna drop the Captain, yeah?”

“I can’t. I gotta impress Mr Stark”

“Look, this isn’t your fight, you don’t know what’s going on” I tried to reason, falling onto deaf ears, or just stubborn, as he then shot his webs at me and tried to pull. His eyes shrunk in confusion as he couldn’t flip me, my power of immobility coming in handy.

“Why-” He groaned, still trying to flip me. I lifted my hands, grabbed the webs and flung him into one of the loading crates that were scattered around, my super strength making the impact a lot harsher, but not enough to cause major injury.

“Thanks Y/N” Steve spoke, a quick nod of approval was shared before I caught a glance of another fight going on. Wanda’s holding a crate, trying to take someone flying above it out, completely oblivious to Vision starting to come towards her. Looking down slightly, I saw who was directly underneath.

“Shit” I mumbled, running as fast as I could towards them, avoiding gunfire and punches along the way.

“Language!”

“Sorry! Jeez” I directed towards the man now running in a different direction.

Vision was much closer to them than I was, no matter how quickly my feet took me. It was no use trying to warn Wanda, I wouldn’t get there in time. I had to go with plan B.

“Nat! Move!”

She quickly turned and caught sight of me, giving me a confused glare that didn’t last long before I pushed her away from where she was standing, out of harm's way.

“What the hell Y/-” She hadn’t managed to finish her sentence before her eyes widened in horror at the large crate suddenly falling from Wanda’s hold and onto me. My arms lifted quickly to hold it, slightly wobbling due to not being in the centre of it.

“Is there anything behind me?”

“Wha-”

“Is there anything behind me?!” I spoke more urgently, not knowing how much longer I could hold it.

“No, no you’re clear.” Natasha responded, I thanked her silently with a nod.

‘Okay. you’ve got this. One. Two-’ I thought to myself.

With the remaining strength I could have gathered, I bent down slightly and pushed, sending the metal hurling upwards while I ran forward. Overestimating how high i’d thrown it, the bitter reality hit me, quite literally as it fell onto my leg, sending me face first towards the ground.

“Wanda!” Was all I could hear before I felt my head placed in someone’s lap and the world went black.

---

My head pounding like a hammer had been a lovely wake up call, followed by a throbbing pain in my leg which I'd looked down to see was lying along a row of pillows. My eyes darted around the room and I recognised the photo on the bedside table beside me. It was a photo of Natasha and I standing in the rain laughing at a joke we can’t remember anymore, but it must’ve been funny according to the huge smiles on our faces. The love in our eyes was enough to make galaxies jealous.

A knock on the door had interrupted my train of thought, opening before I had a chance to respond, Natasha walked in, a guilty look taking over her face.

“Hi”

“Hey. You okay?” I questioned, earning a smile and a scoff to come out of The Black Widow’s mouth.

“Am I okay? Really?”

“I-”

“You ask me if i’m okay when you’re lying there with a broken leg and just woken up from being knocked out, because you decided to throw yourself into danger.”

“You had a tonnes worth of metal about to fall on you. Forgive me if i didn’t want a squished girlfriend.” I defended myself, not entirely certain on how this is turning into being my fault.

“You could have died”

“But I didn’t”

“But you could’ve, Y/N!”

“Love-”

“I can’t lose you” Her voice broke. Only then had I managed to really take a look at her. Her eyes had clouded over, her hair was all over the place, her nose running slightly. A pang of guilt hit me, not knowing that my action had affected her so much.

“Can you come here? Please?” She hesitated, but soon made her way round to the other side of the bed and sat herself down, making herself comfortable in my arms that I held open for her, hands immediately going to run through her hair. Small sniffles could be heard in the otherwise silent room, each one having a kiss pressed against her head in response.

After a couple of minutes, the silence was broken again.

“I’m sorry, moya lyubov, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

She turned her head up slightly to look at me, a small smile playing on her lips

“I know. i just panicked. I want you to be safe too.”

“I’m okay. I’m here. I promise.” I kissed her head again. “How does a bath and a movie sound?” A small sigh left her lips at the suggestion.

“You’ll join?”

“I’ll join”

A small but passionate kiss was exchanged, followed by a few quick pecks before the redhead walked off towards our bathroom, the sound of running water filling the air not long after.

No matter the mission, the fight, the argument or the disagreements, we’ll always protect one another. We don’t need the Sokovia Accords for that.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[shawty-writes-a-little]

The wood’s spirit

One shot

Parings: Darkling x fem!reader

Summary: AAAAAA HALLOWEEN BLURB. THATS IT.

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: One Implied smut and LOTS of fluff

Lengthen nights and short days, rust coloured leaves sprinkled on the ground over the orange, winter slightly beginning to settle and blissful evenings. Everything so beautiful that indicated autumn. But to think that would pause the war and chaos like the fog in the nature pausing to breathe. Drüskelle attacks growing on the outskirts were the general’s peak priority to look into. Tents on the border away from Os altas where rescue unit tents had been set up.

Quite beautiful the border of the wastelands, away from the centre and the hustle adding perfection to autumn as it is.

However not as beautiful at night, y/n would go straight into her tent after dinner in the common dorm, checking in twice after zipping herself inside the tent, a chair by the cloth ended door. The sounds of wilderness off the guard weren't as pleasant.

The entire unit was still going on and about for the search given the fact that distant forest lands are hard to cover as whole. General had called on everyone to search in divided group but never to leave the base all alone or in lesser people who could be outnumbered if any drüskelle attacks were to happen. He too would go out in the woods when not planning. The general didn’t need anyone to accompany or group him like the rest. Obviously.

But he had insisted y/n came along with him. He caught himself rather wanting y/n to come with him, however in denial he knew it wasn’t just nothing when she would walk in and something would move within him, notice how random little things reminded him of her regardless if they related to her or not, wanting to make sure of her comfort all the times, even with his smug personality he seemed to have enjoyed y/n’s playful remarks and teases every now and then. All that and somehow he had still convinced himself it was because he saw a good friend in y/n? Quite an unfamiliar term of relations for him but maybe it was just that. Maybe it was just the fact that he cared so much for his friend she would always be on his mind, worryingly, livingly, lovingly.

Both of them had left the base for the search again in a late evening. This was usually the time to be heading back at the base but the general was firm on leaving for a round. The lantern in their hands didn’t seem very trustworthy it was becoming a literal walking nightmare as the evening was settling dark into a night.

Aleksander didn't seem to have acknowledged the problem y/n had. He kept walking deeper into the woods as y/n walked right in the same footsteps as him not leaving more than 11 inches radius between them at all times. They reached in front of an abandoned groggy house. Clumps of rotten leaves on the doorstep-broken windows boarded up.

“We should go in” Aleksander said trying to look into the house bringing the lantern closer by the end of the creaking entrance steps.

We should go in? In there? Everything about right now screamed ‘run for you life’ to y/n-not that she could explain that to Aleksander “Are you certain It’s a good idea? I mean-it’s an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere.”

“More the reason for us to go, the drüskelles could’ve been in there before.” He replied unaware of the real reason for y/n’s suggestion not to go in there.

“It doesn’t look like someone’s in there right now-no one would go in that thing even in broad daylight.”

“Maybe we might find something.” He said stepping further inside the house leaving y/n outside with screeching night birds and maybe whatever it was that was making that horrible sound. She almost sprinted inside behind him, not safer alone.

It was dead silent as they looked around the house. More like Aleksander looked around the house, y/n kept looking around herself timidly. The lantern in her hands turned to the windows revealing ripped curtains and a few clawed hands scrapped in out of the dirt and the walls aligning the same tearing through the curtains.

“Seven hells-“ she exclaimed all of a sudden with wide eyes stepping away from it bumping into Aleksander, she turned right back being jump scared again.

“It’s me!” He told her in a flat tone, he didn't knew she was maintaining a fairly close distance between the two of them that he could’ve tripped if it was the other way around.

“Look-there’s—there’s these claws!” Y/n explained pointing the light towards them.

“And?”

“And?! And?!! What creature have you seen that has claws of that kind?” She said in a hasty tone.

“It could be a bear, y/n”

“A bear? Here? A bear!?” Y/n was beyond convinced this place had something miserable going on.

“What are you implying then? Some kind of ghost?” Aleksander said in a mocking tone only to see y/n’s face go paler than usual. “You’re seriously believing that?” He asked in surprise clearly she wasn’t.

“Well what else? Have you never heard the wood spirit’s tale?” Y/n asked looking at him blankly.

“The wood who now-I’m going to ask you one question” he continued “How old were you when you heard that?”

“Eight—hey that’s not to justify it! It’s common knowledge.”

“Oh we’re being real here? You’re scared aren’t you?” He asked with a smug tone already knowing the answer.

“Pfft-what? Absolutely not!” Y/n replied with an obvious scoff.

“I’m not going hold it against you” he shrugged his shoulders in a witty rather enjoying this “Just admit it, you’re scared”

“I told you I’m not-now can we leave? It’s anyways dark .” She said with best attempts to not look reluctant of staying here because she was in truth scared.

“We still have to check upstairs.” Aleksander paused waiting for her to reply, he was very well aware she wasn’t going to straight away admit it herself and neither was he going to let it slip “or you can stay here while I check upstairs?”

“NO” y/n responses almost immediately “No-I mean you know what if you maybe leave a spot to check somewhere? I would be helpful, let’s just not part.” She finished hesitantly.

“Whatever you say.” He smirked stepping aside of her way gesturing her to go first.

The house was gloomy and a constant wing flap of whatsoever animal that had been there every time they took a step on the creaking wooden staircase. Y/n didn’t dare and look up twice at that bird or maybe a bat frightened and sure enough of finding some else results.

The upper floor had several rooms and before y/n could turn to Aleksander he had already left to find his way into searching for something in whatever part of the house that was left between the spider webs. She looked around her with however much radius the shaky lantern covered but Aleksander was nowhere near. What kind of let’s not part does he not get?

She made her way through one of the rooms there particularly to look for Aleksander she had lost the hope to find any sort of clue here. With her firm assumption of the place being haunted her only goal as of now was to make it out of there alive. She had her back to the door when a sound of something falling startled her to turn around. She couldn’t make out what it was as it kept getting darker and darker. An approaching darkness that soon made the room even darker, a sudden rushed wind also blew out the lantern in her hands.

She wanted to shout on the top of her lungs and call out Aleksander.“Aleksander—”she said in a very low high pitched voice as though her own voice was stuck in her throat. She stepped further back into some dusty shelves as the darkness grew nearer, she could make that out as the clear moonlight through the broken window was growing dimmer and dimmer in the room. Y/n cleared her throat and tried again “A-Aleksander.” It was barely more than a whisper the second time.

“Please-please I’ve a dying mother and a sick child at home!” She blurbed out loud with her eyes squeezed shut.

Cutting the act Aleksander stepped forward from behind his shadows with lantern still lit bright. “It’s just me!” He said amusingly feeling accomplished.

Y/n opened her eyes unsurely. It was him? “ALEKSANDER?” She took a few audible deep breaths with her hand on her chest. Y/n heard him chuckle whilst still focusing on her breath. “It’s not funny!”

“Apologies-but a dying mother and a sick child?” He questioned confused.

“Y-yeah no-I was getting the spirit to maybe empathise into not killing me.” Y/n replied. In any other case she would’ve been embarrassed that she tried to do that but given she was fighting for her life a few seconds ago it was valid.

“Only you y/l/n-only you could try and get the tree spirit to empathise for you.” Aleksander said in a jestingly.

“The wood spirit!” She corrected.

He laughed again which wasn’t however a common sight of him. “But I was right. You were scared.”

Y/n scoffed and began, “I—my heart did just stop!”

“It absolutely did not.” He deadpanned.

“Well-I could feel it was almost about to.”

“I’m glad it didn’t, it would have been very hard to explain how you died then.” Aleksander said in sport again.

Y/n sighed wanting to engage into this argument anymore knowing how much he was loving this, “Did you find anything?”

“Sadly nothing so we can now get back to the base.” He announced.

“Finally.” Y/n muttered under breath walking back to the staircase.

“…where the wood spirit can’t get to us” he paused. “Or can it?”

“Very mature of you Aleksander.” Y/n rolled her eyes as they made their way down and out of the house.

—

The way back to their base was still through the woods. Who seemed even more frightening than the house at night. Y/n had tugged the ends of Aleksander’s kefta in her hands tightly walking side by side. Her grip would grow tighter whenever there would be a movement of an animal likely a rabbit in the bushes.

“Y/n, you’re about to tear off my kefta like this little dove I just didn’t imagine for you do it in this scenario”Alecksandar said unable to stop grinning that he did make that comment.

Y/n’s cheeks grew red hearing that last line. Did I hear that right? She instantly let go off the end “Oh sorry-I thought that end was mine.” She excused when both of them knew it wasn’t true.

Aleksander took her free hand into his so far he had overcame the denial he had feelings for y/n. Interlocking their fingers for her in place of the end she kept holding onto.

—

Reaching back to their base Aleksander dropped y/n off to her tent, holding her hand today felt right with him, a good laugh he had-with her. Y/n felt right.

They stood in front of her tent as night crickets were entitled to keeping making their rhythmic sounds.

“This is ‘good night’ I assume.” He spoke breaking the silence.

Y/n looked up at his face who still had that boyish grin spread across it. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a nicer sight. It was cruel how she couldn’t just stand and watch his smile the whole night.

“Yes, very well so planning to sleep with eyes open! You can never be sure with the wood spirit.” She joked which made him laugh yet again. Saints he’s beautiful.

“I would never let any man ever hurt you let alone a sprit so you can sleep well.” Aleksander said gazing into her eyes watching her cheeks turn red yet again witch just one sentence. He loved that about her-she would always just feel everything in extremes.

She looked up meeting his eyes smiling wide. Both of them unknowingly leaned inwards until y/n brushed her lips on top of his. Aleksander’s hand came up to caress her cheeks slightly as he leaned in more to the kiss passionately. Y/n broke the kiss taking to catch a breath with both of them mirroring their smiles.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” S Aleksander said joining their lips together.

—

This kind of sucked but okay I had to do something for Halloween

ANYWAYS HAPPY HALLOWEEN YALL IM GOING AS JOE GOLDBERG THIS YEAR <333

Lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list

Tag list

@lazycherri @edithsvoice @padfootswife24 @mygardenmentality

[filthfix]

Anything - skz

Pairing: Reader x Ot8

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: Birthday sex, turn taking, sloppy 2-7, creampie, cum kink/cum eating/cum covering, neck biting, voyeurism, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, “good girl”, unprotected

Summary: It’s Jeongins birthday and he wants to run a train 😶

A/N: I almost named this ‘All In’... 💀 anyways uhhhh happy birthday Jeongin here’s some absolute filth <3

Four days before Jeongin’s Birthday

Chan throws himself on the couch next to Jeongin whose preoccupied with his phone.

“So.. what do you want for your birthday? I can get you anything.”

He’s being his usual playful self, nudging and pinching at Jeongin earning a light whine of acknowledgment from him. He doesn’t look up from his phone but he stopped scrolling, thinking it over quickly before lowering his phone with a soft click.

“Anything?”

“Yep, name it!”

Chan nods feeling confident.

“I wanna share with you guys”

He says it plainly and at first Chan’s confused tilting his head to the side but then raising an eyebrow when it finally clicks. They all had a brief drunken conversation some time ago about something along those lines and it quickly became an unspoken agreement that they’d make it happen eventually with Jeongin seemed the most interested in it.

“I think I can set that up.” He smirks and pats Jeongin’s leg before getting up and leaving the room.

2 days before Jeongin’s birthday

Your phone rings on your walk around town and you pull it out to see Chan’s ID take up the screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” You answer

There’s hesitation in the air before he speaks

“Are you alone by any chance?”

“Uh”

You look around before crossing a small street

“Yeah, I guess?”

It’s probably as alone as you could be in the middle of town.

“Jeongin’s birthday’s coming up and we were wondering if you could help us with something.”

“Yeah, sure, anything.”

“Uh.. you might want to hold off on saying anything until you hear what I’m asking for”

“What? You gonna ask me to steal for him or something?”

You laugh

“Well, No.. he wants to try something...”

His voice trails off

“Something?” You push

“... are you familiar with the term ‘running a train’ ”

The way he says it mimicked ripping a bandaid off and it stops you dead in your tracks.

“Huh?”

You’re completely thrown off and at first you thought you heard him wrong but he’s quick to confirm it again.

“Yeah.. you won’t have to do any real work, It’s just us all getting off together. You can lay back and relax and we’ll take good care of you.”

“Uh? All? Is this a joke?”

You notice an empty bench up ahead and move the conversation over there, dropping yourself on it haphazardly.

“It’s not.. I’m being serious” he laughs sheepishly

This isn’t something you ever thought would come up and a part of you is afraid to even think about this seriously.. but.. you are the type to want to try everything at least once. This could be your only chance for something like this and they’re probably the best option, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a bit interested. The more your mind paints a picture the more the little slut on your shoulder begs and without a second pause you agree.

“I’ll do it..”

“Really? Are you sure? If you want time to think about it let me know, I’d want you to be absolutely sure and okay with this.”

He sounds genuinely surprised

“I’m sure, I did say anything.”

Chan laughs and you have to bite you bottom lip to hold back the smile forming.

“Okay..” you can practically hear his smile “I’ll text you later about it.”

With that he hangs up and you let out the breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You throw your head back and bring your hands up, brushing them over your hair. You feel dumbfounded and oddly excited with a million questions running through your mind. Was this a bad idea? Are you going to regret it? The relationship you have with them will definitely change.. without a doubt. They could of asked anyone else too? But why you? Are you even ready? All eight of them??????

The realization of what you’ve just done and are about to do hits you hard and you decide to abandon your original plans for the day and go back home to process this. You huff and jump off the bench, turning quick on your heels in the direction of your house.

Jeongin’s Birthday

Your minds been foggy for the last two days, a lot of alone time and a lot of texting Chan. He’d given you the details of how the night would go and washed away any worries you might of had. He even shared how they all (mainly the younger ones) argued over who was going after who which made you laugh and feel a lot more lighthearted towards the whole thing.

You threw on your favorite underwear set and some comfy clothes right over it. Since it’ll just be tossed to the side you don’t bother thinking too much on it and just check over yourself one last time in the mirror before you’re out the door to their place. 

Reminding yourself that

It’s for Jeongins birthday

-

Once you’re there, Chan’s the one to let you in greeting you with a warm hug. Behind him is Jisung and Hyunjin focused on a quiet conversation between themselves that they break only for a second to throw a wave your way. Chan points between the two, chuckling.

“They’re still not over the order.”

You smile and shake your head at their usual behavior. Chan then puts a hand on the small of your back and ushers you past them to one of the rooms. You’d been over plenty of times before so you’re familiar with the set up and feel pretty calm despite the promise of getting railed but multiple men tonight.

In the room you’re greeted by the rest of them all scattered around and hanging out like they normally do. Jeongin’s seated near a desk and he’s the first one you approach and pull into a hug.

“Happy 20th Birthday.” you coo in his ear

He thanks you with a giggle and tightens the hug. As you pull away your scent lingers and he realizes just how fond he is of you. His face is red and warm but you don’t notice since your attentions drawn to the door, Hyunjin and Jisung finally join the room looking content.

“We’ve decided”

“Okay then..” Chan gives a patronizing snort and then turns towards you with a warm smile

“Whenever you’re ready”

It all seemed to go by so fast from that

He waves to the bed, Felix and Changbin who had been laying on it get up and your feet automatically move towards it feeling all their eyes follow you. You crawl onto the bed and sit on your knees facing them. Chan said all you had to do to tell them you were ready was to get undressed. Your hands held the bottom of your shirt about to lift it. Tentatively, you give one last glance around the room before slipping off each and every item you had on and letting them fall to the floor next to the bed.

Once that last piece is off you hear a sharp inhale from Minho whose hooded eyes rake over your body. You feel awkward at first but having all their eyes on you, bare and waiting for them, satisfies some weird fantasy you weren’t aware of just yet.

Chans the first to make a move towards you, lightly pushing you to lean back on the bed. He hovers over you, one of his hands resting next to your head and the other grabbing your hand and snaking it under his shirt tracing them along his abs. His eyes are locked on yours and when your arousal becoming noticeable he backs up and strips off his clothes to his boxers.

Your eyes glaze over when you take in his body and the growing print on him. He watches you with a hungry expression and settles in between your legs. He licks his thumb and softly presses it to your clit earnings a low moan from you. He rubs slow circles until the confines of his boxers become unbearable and your mewls intensify.

He grabs at his waistband and frees himself in one move. With a few slow strokes down the length of his cock he’s lining himself up with you. You feel him against your folds warm and throbbing and you eagerly move towards him, shuddering when he slips all the way in.

“A-ahh” he gasps

He starts a steady pace, hands gripping at your thighs. Your expressions urge him on and he picks up the pace craving more of your body. You could already feel yourself ready to cum but hold back to enjoy the straight bliss as he slides against your walls. You squeeze around him and he groans in response dropping his hands from your thighs and letting them fall on either sides of your head, this position letting him reach deeper. He mutters endless praises of how glad he is that you said yes and how he wanted this just as much.

The stutter of his hips before he pulls out and cums right over your pussy is what sends you off the edge. You cover your face as each wave hits over and over. Sneaking a peak to the side through blurry eyes you watch Chan put himself away and breathlessly join the others on the wall. Each looking lust blown, hungry, and ready to pounce. You noticed a few palming themselves and shifting in their spots before you attention was stolen by Changbin.

He’s aggressive straight away biting at your exposed neck. You yelp once and then twice when you feel his fingers graze your still sensitive clit. He’s moving between your folds collecting your slickness and Chan’s cum. When he pulls away to coat his cock with it you look at him. He didn’t bother to undress all the way, just enough to let his frustration free. He lifts up his muscle tee slightly letting you catch a glimpse of his abs before he fills you up. He’s thicker than Chan and you feel every bit of the stretch.

“Go ahead make eye contact with them”

He growls, giving a cocky smirk and starting up at a rapid speed. Your head falling to the side involuntary and you catch a glimpse of all of them. You notice Jeongin first, still seated at the desk, bouncing his leg and gripping at his seat a little too tight. His face is fully red and you can hear slight pants coming from him.

When Changbin gives a particularly harsh stroke your attention shifts to Jisung seated on the floor next to the desk. He’s long discarded his clothes and has been jerking away at himself. You catch him stop abruptly and throw his head back, eyebrows furrowed and dick twitching as he clearly tries to hold himself back. Your highs already at its brink again when you lock eyes with Minho whose eyes are filled with the same devilish glare as before.

“Cum” he mouths and you do, probably the hardest you ever came but Changbin doesn’t let up. His hips rocking back and forth harder and harder. Your uncontrollable and overstimulated moans filling the room.

“Look at me”

He demands and you do as he says through now teary eyes. His eyes were as menacing as his strokes were and he give you two last deep pumps before spilling every drop in you.

“Good girl”

He backs out and with satisfaction watches your legs starting to shake. Hyunjin with his bottom lip between his teeth tags in next. He’s shirtless and his pants are tight. He immediately has his hands on your body sensually rubbing up and down your waist. You brace yourself thinking he’d immediately get to it and be just as aggressive but instead he chooses a softer approach.

“Are you feeling good?”

His silky voice asks as his hands stops just about your thighs giving you a light squeeze. You dazedly nod and he smiles.

“You’re doing so well for us.”

You only hum as he takes in your fucked out expression. He’s as playful as ever kneading at your thigh with one hand and unbuckling his self with the other. Once free he taps and slides against your hole collecting the cum leaking out of you and getting ready to push it back in.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“P-please” you purr and he easily glides in.

He’s longer but definitely thinner than the last two and choses a slower more rhythmic pace with you, which was nice and needed following Changbins aggressive assault. He slow fucks the cum into you savoring every pulse and grip of your walls over him. It takes a second for you to cum again this time in small bursts and Hyunjin exhales in approval, taking a small break after you ride your high all the way through to whisper praises and grip at your body.

When you move your hips down to signal him to keep going he meets it with a snap drawing moans from both of you simultaneously. This round his thrusts are more heated and feverish. You’re caught up in watching the way Hyunjins hair falls into his face to notice Jisung approach. Stroking himself over your chest.

“Mmm, wait for me.”

Hyunjin murmurs and Jisung just nods. You’re curious but your second high from him approaches too closely to get to question it. The coil threatens to snap and right as you’re about to let it Hyunjin pulls out prompting a whimper in protest. He strokes himself over you nodding at Jisung before painting your pussy in his hot seed. Jisung follows shortly after shuddering and spilling right over your chest.

Jisung then eagerly trades with Hyunjin his eyes glued to your cum covered body. He quickly aligns himself and slips in with a high whine. He falls on his hands and relentlessly thrusts into you fucking you like a rabid rabbit, the curve of him hitting all the right spots. He watches you bounce and moan under him with his bottom lip tightly bitten. The snugness of you and his already sensitive dick has him struggling to stay up and he doesn’t know how much longer he has before he busts again.

Luckily for you, he’s finishing off exactly where Hyunjin left off and you cum instantly squeezing around Jisung and milking him of his second orgasm in the process. Jisung practically falls to his knees and it takes every last bit of strength to pull away from you. At this point you’ve already lost count of how many times you’ve came and you’re just barely done with them. You start to relax into the bed breathing heavy and feeling fully spent when Minho comes up and taps on your thigh.

“Hopefully you’re not too tired to play with me”

He chuckles and passes a finger against your clit making you jolt. He collects the cum from you, bringing it up to his lips and licking it clean before closing your legs and roughly moving them to the side. He’s familiar with this kind of game and loves when they’re already this far gone when he gets to them. Easier to mold and easier to break. You’re clenching around nothing as he unbuckles and lines himself up. 

He pushes in all the way feeling pure ecstasy as you cry out. He hastily picks up the pace while pressing your thighs down together making you even tighter on him. You could feel him at the pit of your stomach making the joke of getting your guts rearranged seem all too real now.

This is overkill

Invades your mind when another orgasm hits you leaving your vision white. Minho takes this as his que to hit harder and quicker until your mouth is full of his name. It felt like hours of him relentlessly pounding into your overly sensitive cunt before he nuts in you with a grunt.

You feel so full and unable to move, molded into a true fuck doll for them at this point. Minho pulls out cleaning off his dick and uses you as a towel then leaves you without saying anything else. He pats Felix on the back before pushing him towards you. Felix looks star struck and you’re now needier than ever. Making it obvious by spreading your legs for him and rubbing at yourself with one hand, the other messing with the cum on your chest.

He whispers something inaudible and yanks off his clothes. Grabbing you by the waist to push you further up the bed so he could climb in right after. He’s clumsy and slips trying to find your hole and you have to guide him in.

His strokes are sloppy right away, either overly excited or new to this and it was barely hitting the right spots. You decide to help him out and grind back against him meeting each stroke. He stills automatically letting you take over, his face bright red and focused on where you and him meet. You move faster and mutter his name until you hit your peak.

“Y/N,” he gasps “C-can I cum on your face?”

Cloudy minded but still surprised by his dirty request you nod and he quickly moves to your side. His hands move fast up and down the length of his dick right over your face. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue bracing yourself for your reward. A slew of curse words leave his mouth before your face gets warm with his spunk.

You wipe the bit that covered your eyes so you could see again and popped that on your tongue keeping eye contact with Felix as you swallow, noticing the way he practically melts from it.

Begrudgingly, Felix gets up and Seungmin, whose been quiet this whole time, joins in his usual bright smile on his face.

“Poor baby,” He mocks “Tired, huh?”

You’re too incoherent to respond and he’s well aware of that. He laughs and massages your legs making sure you’re okay.

“Please” you beg

“What was that?”

All you could do is point at the tent in his pants and his eyebrows raise. He shrugs and starts to undress. He’s not one to hold back after all.

“You sure you can take this?”

He doesn’t even let you answer just buries his cock in you and waits. You grow frustrated thinking you were finally gonna get what you wanted just to be teased instead. You take matters into your own hand again and lift yourself up then slide back down onto him throwing your head back when he hits the spot. Seungmin shakes his head and lands a hand on your hip gripping you so you can’t move again.

He hums in an almost condescending way.

“Still needy? Or have you been fucked so dumb that this all you know now?”

He tilts his head as you whimper under him. All you seem to be able to do is pant in protest. You feel him twitch inside of you and your eyes squeeze shut at the slight friction from it.

“Can’t even answer.. tsk I think it’s obvious which one you are.”

He finally gives in and moves, slow and meticulously.

“You’re doing so well”

He pants

“And I thought I’d give you a second to catch your breath”

His thrusts get sharper and leave you gasping

“But if it’s not what you want...”

He speeds up

“..who am I to deny”

His fingers snake over to your clit and rubbing rough circles into it in time with the motion of his hips.

“So good”

Just like that you unravel with a loud groan

“Dummy.. couldn’t even wait for me?”

He laughs and pulls out a little too quickly leaving you with an feeling empty. He jerks off over your body drinking in the way you lay like a broken toy. It doesn’t take long for him to finish across your thighs and you thank him relentlessly.

He shakes his head

“No, no, baby”

“Thank you for letting us use your body like this”

In a blink, he’s gone and in his place was Jeongin with his pretty dick in hand.

“I wanna fuck their cum into you”

“So badly”

His voice is dripping in desire. He presses his red and angry tip to your folds collecting the cum and coating himself with as much of it as he can. Once he’s pleased he asks for the okay which you give him without hesitation. He bottoms out instantly digging his nails into your body at the same time. The urge to bust right then and there washes over him but he’s waited too long to be out already. He holds back for a few seconds till he adjusts before rutting into you. You hadn’t expected the level of precision that came from him and cry out as he fucks you raw.

“Hyunjin”

Jeongin chokes out

“Kiss”

He nods at you and Hyunjin without a second of doubt complies lightly shuffling over to where you lay. He leans over kissing you softly on the lips you lean in deepening it. When he pulls away you notice traces of cum left on his lips and he licks it away before winking at you and stepping back.

It takes a few more drags of his dick across you velvet walls for you both to cry out in one last orgasm. You could feel tears fall from your eyes and Jeongin’s quick to wipe them away. He then sits back on his knees with a sigh his now flaccid dick slipping out. He then topples over beside you followed by almost all of them who then coddle and whispering praises at you. 

Seungmin whose reaching for the door laughs.

“I’ll go grab a wash rag”

“And you know.. if you ever wanna do this again I, at least, wouldn't mind.” Jisung quips with a wink as he trails behind Seungmin with snacks in mind. You’re about ready to pass out but manage to laugh and shake your head over the hyper every day every situation demeanor Jisung carried.

[capncassas]

Teammates Nothing More P.5

Summary: After a long night in the lab you take an uncomfortable elevator ride with Steve and it gives you some ideas about why he may be the way that he is.

Word Count: 746 words

Warning: Angst.

Please don’t repost my writing anywhere, but do feel free to like, comment and re-blog, I am a fragile bean who needs love and support. If you would like to be added to my tag list send me a message.

Tag List: @littlebirdofrivia @smile-sugar @ughdontbeboring @peachatori @daddys-littlewhitegirl @wheretheriversrunintothesea @omgkatinka​

“Got you a chicken, bacon club.”

Bruce is sitting in front of his computer, his green skin set aglow by the blue light behind the monitor.

“Wow, thanks Bubba.”

You take the foiled package; you slide into your chair and send yourself sailing across the lab to your workstation, unwrapping the sandwich with relish.

Today marks your second training session with Bucky and you can tell you’re getting stronger; you think you are even noticing new muscles.

Which is a silly thought since you’ve only been training with Bucky for two days, but you still hope right?

You bite into your sandwich and open the file on your computer.

You’re working on an algorithm that will allow you to locate any member of the team by universal echo location.

Thanks to Thor, Rocket and Bruce you’ve been able to make some massive strides in the development of your new pet project and you can’t wait to show it to the team at the next tech and development meeting. The best part was, you didn’t even have to modify the team’s earpieces, once the technology was just right which you and Bruce were testing–all you had to do was turn the machine on.

The hours went by, dinner came and went, the lab emptied and even Bruce abandoned you with a light pat on the back and a warning not to work too hard before he too left.

You stretch and your spine pops before your eyes fell on the clock.

“Jeez, mid-night already?”

Guess time flew when you were trying to solve a complex math problem that if done improperly could turn the entire universe inside out.

You pushed yourself out of your chair and felt a small little old man groan slip from your lips as you straightened. You looked around to make sure you were alone, and that sound didn’t come from someone else. Nope. It was you.

With your bottom sore and some more soreness from your workout with Bucky. You save your work and turn off the computer. You rub your eyes as you head to the elevator; you walk straight into something solid that grunts when you hit it.

You blink, vision fuzzy, but your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest when you see Steve standing, arms over his chest, in the elevator.

“Oh… s-sorry.”

You swallow hard and step as far from him as possible in the elevator.

It’s less than a minute, but it feels like hours passed as you stand in the elevator next to Steve and you force yourself to breathe. Not to glance over at him, but as the numbers rise, carrying you to your floor, you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

Steve’s appearance gives nothing away as he stands on the other side of the elevator. He’s been in the gym, training by himself. The veins in his arms are standing against the skin, pearl beads of sweat still clinging to his brow and beard. He’s been taking his aggression out on the punching bag and before you can think of what he might be angry about–because he sure looks angry. The bell dings and the elevator doors slide open and he rushes out.

He didn’t say one word to you and you slip out and take the opposite direction to your room.

Fine, if Steve is going to ignore you, then you can do the same thing. You already took the first step, your teammates, nothing more.

You don’t have to be close but as you lock yourself in your room; you sink down against the door and pull your legs up to your chest. Him not returning your feelings for him was never a question. You knew he wouldn’t. Why would he? When he could have any girl he wanted. Before all of this, before the Avengers, before the army, he was just a boy from Brooklyn. He was probably still in love with a girl that was long gone by now, so far out of his reach it was painful.

With that idea in your head, you crawled up from the floor, a knot in your stomach as you tried to imagine what it would feel like to be Steve. Still in love with someone who moved on, who maybe got married and had kids and totally forgot about you. It hurt like hell.

No wonder he is so closed off to love.

[pocketfulofrogers]

To Outlive the Devil

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: A good save and a case practically solved leads to intelligence almost losing one of their own. Can you get out before it’s too late?

Notes: Canon violence, nothing worse than a typically dark episode. This is a past and present cut together story and it’s just shy of 4k. 

Now

Your bleary eyes open up to a cold and damp bedroom. An abandoned… apartment? The peeling wallpaper had given way to yellow stained drywall. From the small window on your left, it appeared as if you were several stories in the air, but there were no distinguishable landmarks that told you if you were even still in Chicago.

As you begin to come to your senses more, you feel the thick rope tied around your wrists and ankles. The rough material burns against you skin and you notice you already have sores.

How long have I been here?

Your memory is fuzzy and your head throbbed violently. It isn’t until you shift uncomfortably that you realize it’s a heavy metal chair you’re tied to.

Slowly your body begins to pick up on the danger your muddled brain had managed to identify and your pulse begins to quicken. As much as you try, your heartbeat continues to pound in your head as you try to twist your arms free.

The pain that responds is only a small price to pay for even the chance of freedom. Desperately, you continue to twist and pull until one of the knots manages to loosen up enough for you to squeeze your hand out. It’s just a short sprint to the front door in front of you.

You will your frozen fingers to work faster as you pinch and tear at each knot and then internally scream at your stiff muscles to carry you forward just a little bit more.

When your hand reaches the doorknob and it isn’t locked, relief floods your system. But when you’re able to wrench the door open, the person behind the door barely registers in your mind before everything goes black once again.

Then

Jay leans against his fist on his desk and tries to keep his frustration at bay. They’d been at this for two days straight and had been on the case for the last three months. “That’s two bodies in as many weeks. Is no one else starting to think…”

“That maybe hunting Chicago’s very own Criminal Minds level serial killer couple is out of our depth?” You interrupt, tilting your head towards him. “Doubt it.”

In fact, over the last two weeks, it’s the only thing you could think about. A younger woman named Madison roped, at least you were hoping she wasn’t a willing participant, into a horrific and violent life by a man you had yet to learn the identity of. You’d spent many nights pacing your bedroom, ranting and theorizing to Jay when all he wanted was just a bit of sleep.

The further you dove into it, however, the less hopeful you became for a quick arrest.

Voight had about ripped your head off when you suggested passing the case to the FBI and got to hear the ‘this is our city’ speech once again. But the truth was you were running out of ideas, running out of leads to chase down the rabbit hole, and running out of time.

“I hate to say it, but Voight’s right.” Antonio almost looks pained, but he continues on before you can question him. “The first time these two surfaced five years ago, CPD went full force. They shut it all down, had every uniform pulling overtime, and tried to smoke them out. Instead, it scared them into hiding.”

“Five girls in three months, Dawson, they’re escalating.” You take a breath before looking him in the eyes. “I can’t keep notifying parents.” There’s a certain pang in your voice only those who have had to watch a parent’s life crumble around them can hear. Jay reaches out to squeeze your forearm for just a bit of comfort and you run your fingers over his.

It’s enough.

“Then we end this.” Voight’s eyeing you, sympathetic to where you’re coming from, but not willing to give up yet. “Let’s find these monsters and make them pay.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you nod and turn to Adam. “Ok, let’s go over everything together, see if we can find something we missed.”

“Since it’s all we have, let’s revisit the address on Madison’s unemployment file.” Jay suggests.

Adam looks confused. “The house was condemned last year, torn down in the spring.”

“I know, but what about the name on the house, did anyone look into it?”

“Figured it was a stolen identity.” Kevin pipes up. “Clara Knight, died in 2012 of a heart attack at 66. No other properties in her name.”

“Knight?” Mouse perks up and starts shifting through his files. “I found a few erased emails from a Robert Knight, but I couldn’t find any relation or connection.”

Adam is already typing ferociously. “Got a death certificate for a Robert Knight, 68, died a few months ago. Seems like the guy barely existed.”

“Any children?”

“A daughter.” His face is grim. “Murdered in 99, she was 16.”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. “Pull up a picture of her.” You don’t need to see it to confirm what you already feared, but still the image of her face churns your stomach. A beautiful blonde girl with the hope of the whole world in her smile. “He’s been at this a lot longer than anyone thought.”

“Any property still in his name?” Voight asks.

Anxiety rippling through your chest, it feels like an eternity before Mouse nods. “His nephew Isaac put his house in Roseland on a tax form.”

Now

When you come to, the first thing you notice is that your restraints have been changed to zip ties and for a moment you’re concerned about your circulation. You’re worry is cut short by the cup of water on a table to your right, the plastic straw close enough for you to reach it.

The sudden realization of the searing pain in your throat and the cracked skin on your lips lets you know it’s probably been about two days. It’s the dryness of your tongue that overrides every single rational thought of concern that maybe the glass beside you isn’t safe to drink. But, fifteen minutes pass with no incident so whoever it is probably wants to keep you alive.

The thought sends ice down your back.

Alive for what?

“What do you want from me?” You scream into the empty apartment.

Then

“We need a vacation after this.” Jay declares as he leans the seat of the car back a little. “Somewhere warm with water so I can look at you in a tiny bathing suit all day.”

You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the small smile you give before bringing the binoculars up again. “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

“Hey lovebirds.” Adam calls over the radio from the car down the street from yours. “Have you seen anything yet or are you too busy staring into each other’s eyes again?”

It’s Jay’s turn to roll his eyes. “Didn’t you just take your third piss break?”

“Hydration is very important.” He defends.

“I told him to wear the diapers.” Alvin adds. Adam tries to defend himself, but you can barely hear him over Kevin’s laughter next to him.

Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you see the movement of a curtain, the flash of blonde hair, and the air shifts. Jay immediately catches the tense set of your shoulders and starts asking questions.

“They’ve got a girl up there.” You tell him through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure? I didn’t see anything.”

You nod and get out of the car despite the hushed protests from Jay as he follows you. To do what? You weren’t sure yet but you had felt so powerless these last few months that maybe you weren’t being the most rational right now.

The curtain moves again and, rather than getting caught, you quickly spin around and push Jay against the car before crashing your lips to his. Other than a noise of shock sounding from the back of his throat, he doesn’t miss a beat.

“North corner window.” You mumble against his lips and slide your hands up his chest, tilting your head to the side to give him a better angle.

When he pulls away, he brings his phone up and looks you in the eye. “We’ve got confirmation on the nephew Isaac, but he’s got another girl up there. If we bust in, he might get spooked and hurt her.”

It’s quiet longer than either of you would like.

“What should we do, boss?” Adam asks for you.

“Do you think you can get in quietly?” Voight asks.

Jay waits for your nod. “We’re on it. Going silent.”

Picking the lock was nothing. Sneaking around a house you know nothing about except for a quick glance at a blueprint from 2005 was the difficult part. Jay splits the two of you up, sending you upstairs while he clears the lower level. Circumstance didn’t allow you the option to argue with him that splitting up in a situation like this is the worst thing to do.

He was your partner and it was your job to always have his back, as difficult as he makes it, but he’s rounded a corner into the living room before you get the chance to cuff him to you.

Your breath catches in your throat when a step on the stairs creak, but you keep moving until you find a girl in the second room you clear. She’s blind folded with on leg tied to the bed. She tenses when you approach, but relaxes once you’ve gotten close enough to whisper who you are.

“Tracey.” She says he name with a whimper and your heart breaks as you cut the rope and take off her blindfold.

When she sees you’re really who you say you are, she throws herself into your arms and begins to cry. There’s nothing more you want to do than to sit here and comfort her, but your ears picks up on a man’s voice you don’t recognize.

“Ok, Tracey, I know you’re so scared, and I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, but I need you to be brave a little longer.” You pull back and look her in the eyes. “My partner and I came in here alone. I need you to tell me where the man and woman who took you are.”

She nods. “I don’t know where she went, she left a while ago. He’s here, downstairs I think, in his office.”

There’s a crash downstairs, the sound of broken glass and your blood runs cold. Immediately, you look for any other way out, but there’s nothing. No balcony, no window, nothing. Voight’s on the radio already, but you silence him.

“Stay directly behind me.” There’s a kind of urgency in your voice that puts her even more on edge.

Creeping down the stairs, you can hear Jay struggling in the kitchen, but it sounds like he’s holding his own.

“Bringing the girl out.” You whisper into your radio and glance back at Tracey. “As soon as we get down, I want you to run to the door. Do not stop. When you get across the street there are people who will help you.” She nods but she looks terrified. “I swear I won’t let him get anywhere near you.”

It’s the door opening that alerts Isaac that something else is going on. You round the corner with your gun drawn and the scene before you makes your knees weak.

Jay is bruised and cut up, struggling against the man behind him, the arm around his neck, the gun pointed at his head.

“She said you were cops, but I told her she was paranoid.” Isaac snarls.

“Madison? Is she here?” You ask, your voice as level as your gun trained on his head. Voight is yelling over the radio, but you tune him out. “I’d love to meet her.”

He snickers and smiles wickedly. “Even if she could be caught, neither of you will be alive long enough to see it.”

He only manages a twitch before you pull the trigger and land a shot right between his eyes.

Jay falls forward, breathing heavy and you rush towards him. “Jay’s hurt!” You call out when the door is broken down. Adam kicks the gun away from the obviously dead suspect and you let them handle the scene.

“Where does it hurt? Did you get hit? I told you it was stupid to split us up! How’s your breathing?” Your hands are frantically searching every inch of his body. He has to grab your hand and grip it tight in his to stop the assault of questions rapid firing from your lips.

He sits up with a groan and kisses your knuckles when he sees the panic on your face. “I’m okay. Because of you it’s just a few cuts and bruises.” He manages a smile and you almost cry right there.

Voight places a hand on your shoulder. “Tracey is on her way to Med. Medics said she’s going to be okay. We’ve got another bus on the way for you. Nice work you two.”

Now

The creak from the front door opening pulls you from a daze and you wince at the sunlight flooding the room. A blonde woman stands before you with a duffle in her left hand and a gun in her right.

She tilts her head to the side. “You’re still alive. What a shame.”

You struggle to focus your eyes from the concussion you’re assuming she must’ve given you. “Maddison.” You croak out. “What are you doing?”

She drops the duffle next to you and grips your hair to pull your head back, pushing the barrel of the gun into your temple.

“I’m going to make you suffer.” She hisses and roughly lets you go. “I tried to warn him that you were watching us, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Isaac?”

“Don’t say his name!” She screams and the sound cracks through your skull. “He told me to get some supplies, but when I cam back, I watched from the back window as you murdered him.”

You shake your head and try to reason with her. “Maddison, he was hurting people. He was going to kill my partner.”

“Partner.” She repeats sarcastically. “You mean Jay Halstead, your boyfriend of 3 years?” Maddison moves in front of you to revel in the fear that has filled your eyes and smiles sinisterly. “Yeah, I know who he is.”

You start quickly, the panic in your voice betraying the training you were struggling to hold onto. “If you want to kill me fine, do it. But don’t hurt him, Maddison. Please, he’s done nothing.”

She tsks as she opens the duffle and begins to pull out long metal pieces until finally, a long-barreled shot gun. “Why would I kill you when the alternative is so much better?”

You begin to struggle against the restraints as your mind starts to put together scenario after scenario of awful images. Maddison pays no mind to you begging and pleading to see reason. Instead, she pauses from building some contraption to walk over to you and jam a needle in your neck.

When you come too again, she’s sat casually in front of you. “I thought hitting you in the head again might actually kill you, and that’s not what I’m going for, so… you’re welcome.”

You glance around again and notice the barrel of the shotgun behind you just to the left of your shoulder. “Yeah, thanks.” You deadpan looking back at her. “What’s with the ‘Saw’ set up?”

She raises a brow. “Hold onto that strength while you can.” She points out the wires and hooks running along the floor and ceiling to trace it back to the door in front of you. “I used to be a STEM major. Did you know that?” She doesn’t stop long enough for you to respond. “Turns out I still remember a few things.”

You stare past her towards the door and then look quickly back to the gun, beginning to piece together her plan.

“Yes.” She coos. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking. The first person that opens that door, if he happens to be the right height, will get a life ending shot to the face. And I’d like to ask you what the chances are that anyone other than your boyfriend will be the first through the door.”

None.

For the first time you feel utterly defeated, hopeless. Madison watches closely, soaking in every moment of your anguish.

“Now you’ll know what it feels like.”

Then

You phone buzzes for the fourth time in the last hour. “Yes?”

“He’s actually insufferable, where are you?” Will speaks quickly, his tone seeping in irritation.

You laugh. “April already sent me out to get him food because he was whining so much. I am in route with a burger and some other stuff from his favorite place. Should be there in 15.”

“Thank god.” He says quietly. “Would you give it a rest? She’s 15 out with enough food to hopefully put you in a coma so I don’t have to.” You laugh as Will continues to yell at his brother.

“I almost died! Where’s your compassion?” You hear Jay yell back and only laugh harder

“You have ONE bruised rib and a concussion. I’ve seen high school football players handle worse with less complaining!”

“If it’s not so bad, why won’t you let me leave?!”

“I’m stepping up the pace, be there soon.” You laugh and hang up.

The Chicago night was chilly, but something else causes the hairs on the back of your neck begin to prickle. You don’t stop walking, don’t even pause a single step. Instead, you glance in a shop window and catch the reflection of a woman, a flash of blonde, not too far behind you.

Casually, you switch the bag of food to your other hand, but before you’re able to grab your gun, there’s a pinch in your neck and everything goes black.

Now

Jay had forced his way back to work sooner than anyone recommended. You’d been missing for 5 days. Disappeared with no trace other than your cell phone and a bag of cold diner food spilt on the sidewalk. If it were up to him, he would’ve been at his desk the moment 30 minutes hit and you weren’t there.

Alvin called two hours later telling him what they found and Adam and Antonio had to physically restrain him, Will almost sedated him. Voight promised him that they’d find you, and Jay knew they’d do everything they could, but he needed to be a part of the search.

“Did she have any enemies?” Alvin asks and he doesn’t flinch when Jay begins to laugh sarcastically.

“Any enemies? Do you hear yourself? She had tons. We all do. But let’s stop pretending like her being taken the day we closed that case isn’t connected.”

Alvin tries to sympathize with him. “We have to ask. You know the drill.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “Are you seriously going to treat this like any other missing person? It’s Y/N, Al! Y/N!”

“We know.” Voight says from his office door. “I made a few calls, Jay, we know where she is.” For a fraction of a second, Jay is frozen, but the thought of what you could be going through right now moves him. He’s grabbed his jacket and is in the car before anyone else has moved.

“I thought only the CIA had access to things like that.” Adam whispers lowly in the car into Kevin’s ear.

He shrugs. “Do think it’s out of the question that he’d break several constitutional laws to save any one of us?”

Adam sits back in his seat with pursed lips, nodding.

You struggle against the restraints long after Madison leaves you with only a gag in your mouth. The multiple cars pulling up and all the people shouting told you that you were running out of time. As of this very moment, you were locked into your fate of watching the man you loved die.

This was not an option.

The hard plastic digs into your ankles and wrists, your movements quickening with each door you hear them break down. You try to scream, to warn whoever was on this floor that there was a danger they couldn’t possibly see, but your muffled cries wouldn’t carry.

Tears soak the bandana shoved in in your mouth and you try to scream again.

No! Stop! It isn’t safe!

You hear Voight’s voice a few doors down and begin to try and rock the chair back and forth. It was considered heavy for a good day, and today was not that. Having not eaten or really moved in so long had left you weak and foggy. The adrenaline coursing through you veins only aiding a little in your efforts.

The sound of the front door breaking down sends a jolt of energy through you and you send yourself flying in front of the gun just as the bedroom door opens.

Jay raises his weapon at the sound before his brain can register what has happened. His wide eyes find yours just before you’ve hit the ground.

“Y/N!” He screams and rushes towards you. Frantic, shaky hands move quickly to remove the bandana and zip ties before applying pressure to your shoulder. “I need a medic!” He calls franticly over his shoulder, but when he turns back to you, he has to shut down the thought that you might not make it that long.

“You found me.” You try to say, but instead sputter blood onto your cheek.

“Oh, God.” He gasps. “You’re okay, you’re going to be fine.” But the more he says, the less you hear him.

“I love you.” You try to reach out to his face and graze his cheek, but your fingers won’t cooperate and only leave smudges of blood across his skin.

When your breathing starts to quicken and become more raged, he knows time is running out. So, in defiance of the orders and suggestions coming in through his ear piece, he lifts you up to cradle you to him and runs.

**

An annoying, incessant beeping is the only thing you can hear, but when you move to reach for it, a shooting pain stops you cold. You groan softly and pry your eyes open only to see both Will and Antonio hovering too close to your face.

Will starts to wave a flashlight in your eyes and you push him away. “When was the last time you guys brushed your teeth?”

Antonio chuckles softly and places his hand atop your head, his thumb brushing softly. “We got her.” He says quietly. “She couldn’t help herself. She stayed close to the scene to see the fallout and Kim caught her.”

Will nods his head towards Jay who was sleeping soundly in what you had to imagine was a very uncomfortable position. “We’ve been keeping an eye on him as well as you. Do you want me to wake him?”

You look back over at him and smile before turning back. “Better not. These are the last few moments of peace I’ll get for the next year at least. You would think someone would be a little more grateful towards you for saving their life, but I can already hear how mad he’s going to be.” Only a small part of you is joking.

“Well, I’ll get shot next time and we’ll see how you feel.” Jay’s sleep riddled voice carries from the corner, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. “I’ll give you an hour.” He adds before settling back in.

Now that’s the love of my life.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I loved your fantastic account of the battle of Waterloo and how each nation came to define the rest of the century for all the European countries in different ways. However what are your thoughts about the battle itself? Did Wellington win it or did Napoleon lose it? What were the turning points that you think determined the fate of the battle?

Thank you for reading and liking my previous post on Waterloo. I did heavily lean into studying ancient classical warfare when I was studying Classics but I only got into Napoleonic warfare because of a father who was (and still remains) big Napoleonic warfare military enthusiast. Through his keen eyes as a former serving military man, I also looked at the battle as a soldier might as well putting on my academic critical thinking cap. It’s a popular parlour game not just in Sandhurst but also in the officers’ mess (where those regiments actually fought at Waterloo) and around dinner tables - in my experience anyway.

I’ve always seen such speculative and counterfactual questions as an amusing diversion. I’ve never seriously looked at the detail until I came to France and unexpectedly interacted with Napoleonic scholars as well as soldiers (the cultured and historically well read ones at least) that forced me to think more about it. I’ve always been of the ‘if the Prussians hadn’t arrived in time to save Wellington’ school; and this was always enough to get me by in any conversation.

But my vanity was stung by interacting with one of my downstairs neighbours, a high decorated retired army general, with whom I played a weekly game of chess over a glass of wine during the Covid lockdown in Paris. He didn’t spare me as he knew so much detail about the battle. But a typical failing of French thinking is to pontificate around generalities rather than specific reasons. So for him it came down to pooh-poohing the generalship of Wellington (the rain saved him) and lauding the emperor (he had haemorrhoids and thus a bad day at the office). So rain and haemorrhoids were the decisive factors in determining the outcome of the battle of Waterloo.

It was clear I had to raise my game. So I’ve been reading more when I could.

I had recently finished reading a wonderful book ‘The Longest Afternoon: The 400 Men Who Decided the Battle of Waterloo’ by the Cambridge historian Brendan Simms. The book came out in 2015 but it’s been lying on my shelf for these past few years until I actually took this slim book to read on my one of my business trips.  

The idea behind this short book is so superbly useful. It places to one side the huge, cinematic panorama of history and instead concentrates on one particular farmhouse, on one particular day: 18 June 1815. History is vivified, lifts itself off the page and into the mind, when a historian of Brendan Simm’s immense stature zooms in on the details - and here the details are compelling.

For the course of one day, 400 soldiers, wet, cold, in some cases hungover, who had bivouacked for the night in an abandoned farmhouse at La Haye Sainte, near a crucially strategic crossroads, found themselves staring down the massed barrels of Napoleon’s vanguard – and held them off.  On June 18, 1815, Wellington established his position and sent one battalion and part of a second to the farmhouse under the command of Major Baring. Napoléon’s initial attack was a direct assault that surrounded the house and came near to breaking Wellington’s line; but it held, and the legendary charge of two British heavy cavalry brigades drove back the French.

This is a detailed account of the defence of La Haye Sainte, a walled stone farmhouse forward of Wellington’s centre. Its defenders were the King’s German Legion, which (despite the British army’s penchant for oddball names) was genuinely German. Britain harboured many German expatriates who detested Napoléon, a number augmented in 1803 when he occupied Hanover and disbanded its army. That very year two ambitious officers recruited the first members of the King’s German Legion, which grew into a corps of some 14,000 men and served with distinction at Copenhagen, Walcheren and in Spain before its apotheosis at Waterloo.

Ordered to capture the farmhouse, Marshal Michel Ney - commanding Napoléon’s left wing - obeyed but became preoccupied with his famously unsuccessful cavalry attack. Reminded of the order two hours later, he dispatched infantry that reached the house and set it on fire. The men inside controlled the blaze and continued to fight until Ney took personal charge of a furious assault that succeeded only when the defenders ran out of ammunition and withdrew, having held out for six hours. Had they not defended it so stoutly and if the farm had fallen any sooner then Napoleon would have been able to get at Wellington’s troops before his Prussian reinforcements arrived, and in all likelihood Waterloo would have been a French victory instead; it would now be the name of a train station in Paris rather than London.

I doubt there is a definitive answer to this question which is why certain people love arguing about it because it’s so open ended in terms of cause and effect. You can pick on any episodic event and hail that as the decisive turning point. It’s one reason why we are so fortunate to have so many well researched history books on the battle of Waterloo to replenish the issues for a newer generation to argue with past generations.

If I were to go beyond the ‘if the Prussians hadn’t arrived to save Wellington’ line then I would point to ten decisive turning points which in themselves might not have changed the outcome but taken together certainly influenced the final outcome of one of the most important and iconic battles in history.

Napoleon gives Marshal Davout a desk job

6 June 1815 – All commanders need a good chief of staff to ensure that their intentions are translated into clear orders. Unfortunately for Napoleon – as what is arguably one of the most decisive battles in European history loomed – his trusted chief of staff, Marshal Berthier, was no longer available. Berthier had sworn an oath of loyalty to Louis XVIII – and then fallen to his death from a window – so the job was given to Marshal Soult.

Soult was an experienced field commander but he was certainly no Berthier. Napoleon’s two main field commanders were also far from ideal. Emmanuel Grouchy had little experience of independent command. Michel Ney’s heroic command of the French rear-guard during the retreat from Moscow led Napoleon to dub him “the bravest of the brave”, but by 1815 he was clearly burnt out.

Worse still, when on 6 June Napoleon ordered his generals to assemble with their troops on the Belgian border he chose to leave behind Louis-Nicolas Davout, his ‘Iron Marshal’, as minister of war. The emperor needed someone loyal to oversee affairs at home but the decision not to take with him the ablest general at his disposal would deprive him of the one commander who might have made a difference.

Constant Rebecque ignores orders

15 June – In June 1815 Napoleon assembled 120,000 men on the Belgian border. Opposing him were 115,000 Prussians under  Field Marshal Blücher and an allied force of about 93,000 men under Wellington. Faced with such odds, Napoleon’s best chance of victory was to get his army between his two enemies and defeat one before turning on the other. On 15 June his army crossed the frontier at Charleroi and headed straight for the gap between the two allied armies.

Wellington was taken completely by surprise: “Napoleon has humbugged me” he said. Uncertain what Napoleon’s intentions were, he ordered his army to concentrate around Nivelles, over 12 miles away from the Prussian position at Ligny. This would have left the two allied armies dangerously separated but fortunately for Wellington, a staff officer in the Dutch army, Baron Constant Rebecque, understood what was actually needed. He disregarded Wellington’s order and instead sent a force to occupy the key crossroads of Quatre Bras, much nearer to the Prussians.

D’Erlon misses the show

16 June – Two battles were fought on 16 June. While Marshal Ney took on Wellington’s army as it hurriedly tried to concentrate around Quatre Bras, Napoleon led the main French force against the Prussians at Ligny. Blücher’s inexperienced Prussians were given a severe mauling but despite this they managed to fall back in relatively good order.

This was partly due to a disastrous mix-up on the part of the French. Confusion over orders saw General D’Erlon’s corps instructed to leave Ney’s army at Quatre Bras and join the fighting at Ligny only to be recalled as soon as they got there. The result was that 16,000 Frenchmen who could have intervened decisively actually took part in neither battle.

Blücher stays in touch

17 June – Wellington succeeded in beating back Ney at Quatre Bras but Blücher’s defeat left the British general with a large French army on his eastern flank. He was forced to fall back northwards towards Brussels. The Prussians were retreating as well. Normally a retreating army tries to withdraw along its lines of communication (ie the route back to its base). Had the Prussians done this they would have headed eastwards. The two allied armies would then have been even further apart and Wellington would have been overwhelmed. But instead of doing that, the Prussians retreated northwards towards Wavre. It was to be a crucial move. The two allied armies stayed in contact and on 17 June Wellington was able to fall back to the ridge at Mont St Jean, and prepare to make a stand there until Blücher’s Prussians could come to his aid.

The weather takes a hand

17 June – The night before the battle was marked by a thunderstorm of biblical proportions. Rain lashed down, turning roads into quagmires and trampled fields into seas of mud.

It was a night of tremendous rain and cloudbursts. Wellington said that even in the monsoons in India, he’d never known rain like it. To wake up cold and damp, wet and terrified, then you have this slaughter in a very small space. By evening there were over 200,000 men struggling to kill each other within four square miles.

Private Wheeler of the 51st Regiment later wrote: “The ground was too wet to lie down… the water ran in streams from the cuffs of our Jackets… We had one consolation, we knew that the enemy were in the same plight.” Wheeler was right of course – the rain would inconvenience all three armies, not least the Prussians as they struggled along narrow country lanes to link up with Wellington.

It’s often said that Napoleon delayed starting the battle in order to allow the ground to dry out but the chief cause of the delay was probably the need to allow his units, many of whom had bivouacked some distance away, to take up their allotted places. Napoleon enjoyed a considerable advantage in artillery at Waterloo but this was lessened by the fact that the mud made it difficult to move his guns around and that cannonballs, normally designed to bounce along until they hit something, or someone, often disappeared harmlessly into the soggy ground. Macdonnell closes the gates

11:30am, 18 June – On 18 June the two armies prepared to do battle. Most of Wellington’s troops were sheltered from enemy fire on the reverse slope of the Mont St Jean ridge. The position was protected by three important outposts: a group of farms to the left, the farm of La Haye Sainte in front and the farmhouse of Hougoumont to the right.

At about 11.30am the French launched their first attack – an assault on Hougoumont. This soon developed into a battle within a battle as the French threw in ever more men in a bid to capture the vital chateau. They nearly succeeded: led by a giant officer nicknamed ‘the Smasher’, a group of French soldiers worked their way round to the rear of the chateau, forced open its north gate and burst inside.

James Macdonnell, the garrison commander, acted quickly. He gathered a group of men and they heaved the gate shut again. The French inside the chateau were then hunted down and killed. Only a young drummer boy was spared. Hougoumont was to remain in allied hands all day and Wellington later commented that the entire result of the battle depended on the closing of those gates.

Ney loses his head after his cavalry founders

1.30pm – The infantry of D’Erlon’s corps finally saw action as they attacked the left wing of Wellington’s army. As they reached the crest of the ridge they were met by the infantry of Sir Thomas Picton’s division. Picton, a foul-mouthed Welshman who rode into battle in a civilian coat and round-brimmed hat, was shot dead but his men stopped the French, who were then driven back by Wellington’s cavalry.

The next major French attack was very different. Ney unleashed his cavalry in a mass frontal attack, and thousands of Napoleon’s famous cuirassiers – big men in steel breastplates riding big horses – thundered up the hill. But Wellington’s infantry stayed calm. Forming squares, they presented in all directions a hedge of bayonets that no horse could be made to charge.

Ney needed to call the cavalry off or support them with infantry but he lost his head and threw more horsemen into the fray. When he abandoned these fruitless attacks, Wellington’s line was still unbroken, two hours had been wasted, and the Prussians were arriving in force.

The Prussians arrive

4.30pm – Blücher had promised to come to Wellington’s aid, and kept his word. Napoleon had detached nearly a third of his army under Grouchy to prevent the Prussians joining up with Wellington but Grouchy failed to do this and, by mid-afternoon, the first Prussian units were in action on the battlefield.

At about 4.30pm they launched their first attack upon the key village of Plancenoit near the rear of Napoleon’s main position. This savage battle would rage for over three hours. Faced with this, Napoleon was forced to send many of his remaining reserves to shore up his position – leaving him with precious few troops to exploit any success his troops might enjoy against Wellington.

Napoleon says no, and von Zeithen turns back

6.30pm – At about 6.30pm the French captured La Haye Sainte. Posting artillery and skirmishers around the farm, they unleashed a storm of shot, shell and musketry into Wellington’s exposed centre. The regiments there suffered horrendous casualties, but Wellington’s line held – just.

Ney asked for reinforcements to press home his advantage but Napoleon refused. Instead he sent troops to recapture Plancenoit which had just fallen to the Prussians. Von Zeiten’s Prussian I Corps arrived on the scene. These much-needed reinforcements were set to join Wellington when a Prussian aide de camp rode up with an order from Blücher instructing them to head south and support his troops at Plancenoit. Von Zeiten obeyed. Realising that Von Zeiten’s troops were desperately needed on the ridge, Baron von Müffling, Wellington’s Prussian liaison officer, galloped after Von Zeiten and pleaded with him to ignore this new order and stick to the original plan. The Prussian general turned back and took his place on Wellington’s left, enabling the duke to shift troops over to reinforce his crumbling centre. The crisis had passed.

Napoleon’s last roll of the dice ends in panic

7.30pm – With Plancenoit back in French hands the stage was set for the final act in the drama. At about 7.30pm Napoleon unleashed his elite imperial guard in a last desperate bid for victory. But it was too late – they were hopelessly outnumbered and Wellington was ready for them. His own troops had been sheltering from the French fire by lying down but when the two large columns of French guardsmen reached the crest of the ridge Wellington ordered his own guards to stand up. One British guardsman describes the scene: “Whether it was (our) sudden appearance so near to them, or the tremendously heavy fire we threw into them but La Garde, who had never previously failed in an attack, suddenly stopped.”

Meanwhile Sir John Colborne of the 52nd Light Infantry wheeled his regiment round to attack the flank of the first French column while General Chasse ordered his Dutch and Belgian troops forward against the other. Soon both French columns had withered away under the deadly fire. Their defeat led to widespread panic in the French army: amid cries of “La Garde recule” (“the Guard is retreating”) it dissolved into a disorderly retreat mercilessly harried by the Prussians. “The nearest-run thing you ever saw in your life,” as Wellington described the battle, was over.

This isn’t an exhaustive list but it will do.

Waterloo was a watershed moment for Europe, and indeed the world. The end of the Napoleonic Wars heralded a peace in Europe which was not broken until the outbreak of World War One in 1914. In the century following the Battle of Waterloo an increased respect developed for the figure of the soldier. True the Battle became mythologised in the nineteenth century and is now embedded in our cultural memory as one of the great British success stories.

We still celebrate Waterloo because it was a great British victory - even if we had a little bit of help from the Prussians. It embodied the British bulldog spirit and marked the moment we finally overcame Napoleon and his empire after a decade of being at war.

The ramifications from Waterloo and the Napoleonic Wars are still felt today in contemporary European politics. I think because of this the battle continues to fascinate and to court intense discussion and disagreement.

No doubt my French neighbour the retired army general and I will continue to stubbornly argue our differing viewpoints until the wine bottle empties. But we both agree that we would enjoy having dinner with Napoleon and talk about his military campaigns. I admire Napoleon a little more having read more and for living in France. He’d be a very amusing and stimulating companion.

In many ways, he was also an enlightened and intelligent ruler. His Code Napoleon is an extremely enlightened law code. At the same time this is a man who had a very, very low threshold for boredom. I think he was addicted to war.

General Robert E. Lee, at Fredericksburg said, “It is well that war is so dreadful, otherwise we would grow too fond of it.”

Napoleon would never have agreed with that. War was his drug. There’s no evidence that Wellington enjoyed war. He said after Waterloo, and I believe him, “I pray to God that I have fought my last battle.” He spent much of the battle saying to the men, “If you survive, if you just stand there and repel the French, I’ll guarantee you a generation of peace.” He thought the point of war was peace. And he sure gave not just Britain but also an entire European continent some respite from the spilling of blood on a battlefield.

Thanks for your question.

[beskarberry]

Garden of Ishtar

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 9

(The Mandalorian x f!reader) (+18)

"The Universe has a strange way of granting wishes"

<-Previous Next->

Rating: holy shit Explicit

Word count: 15.8k

Content warnings: SEX POLLEN + BREEDING KINK + PREGNANCY KINK with an extra kinky twist! (Dubcon/use of mind altering substances by non-sentient creature/ovipos) Side kinks: dom/alpha, praise, begging, denial, overstim, bonus somnophila. Obvious favorites of p in v, finger blasting, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms and then some. Big gooey heaps of fluff to make up for all the filth. I tried.

A/N: Weird shit happens in space, and this chapter is no exception. This is the most kinks I've crammed into one chapter, almost zero story progression whatsoever, it's just smutty smut the whole way though. Good luck and may the force be with you because you're gonna need it.

“Well, which one do you want?”

“You pick.”

“Fuck no, I picked the last one, you can pick the next.”

It was a bright, lovely, sunshiny day on the forest moon of Endor, the fine weather a stark contrast from how it had been when you had landed. You had opened the access ramps on the Crest to get some fresh air circulating while you made preparations to head towards your next target, but you had to pick a target first.

On a supply crate that you had pushed into the middle of the cabin like a dining room table sat three little pucks, their bounties still as mysterious as they had been when you had wantonly pulled them off of Karga’s countertop. As far as you were concerned it was Din’s turn to pick, and though death was just an occupational hazard in your line of work, there had been too many brushes with the reaper during your last hunt for you to be comfortable picking again.

Leaning against the wide open doorframe you took a deep breath of the fresh, rain-scrubbed air, letting it fill your lungs and clear your head. It was a little humid, though it might have been the nicest day you had seen in a long time. Outside on the dampish grass the foundling was chasing some kind of pretty insect, hopping about trying to catch the elusive critter. It was good for him to get a chance to stretch his legs, no matter how short they were, and you giggled at his antics when he tripped and fell. He squealed and rolled through the grass before he was bounding after another fluttering creature. Without the violent storms the mini-moon was peaceful, serene almost, and in another lifetime maybe you would have settled down here; though you couldn’t imagine being anything besides a hunter. I wonder if that will ever change.

“Really, cyare, you pick.” Sitting across from you, Din was cleaning the last bit of mud from his armor, the thick muck having long dried into a chunky, flaky mess. Everything but the plate he had in his hands now shimmered like spilled mercury over his chest and shoulders, catching the dappled sunbeams that filtered in through the open doors. Your argument over who got to pick the next puck had ground to a stand still, and you were getting frustrated, but not frustrated enough that you would yield.

“It’s not my turn, it’s your turn.” He just shook his head, diligently scrubbing the dirt from the details of the mudhorn on his pauldron without realizing the irony of his efforts. He set the cleaned metal to his shoulder, the clack of its fasteners echoing faintly in the open hold. The Mandalorian sat up straight, leaning his helmeted head against the hull wall and patting his knees, expectantly waiting for you to make your choice. Something about his armored appearance gave you a stupid idea, and you sauntered up to him with a cocky grin. “I’ll fight’cha for it.”

“You’ll what?” The black gloss of his visor tilted sharply, as though you had just grown a second head.

“Fight me! Loser has to pick the puck.” You kicked the tips of his boots and brought your fists up, playfully making soft, slow jabs towards him. He huffed, like he wasn’t used to you having bright ideas by now.

“I’m not going to fight you, cyar’ika, just pick a damn puck already.”

“Them's fightin’ words.” Your knuckles went pap pap pap in quick succession against the hexagonal indent on his chest. “What’re’ya afraid you’re gonna lose?”

He lazily swatted at you, barely even trying to block your attack. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ha! As if!” You whipped your head forward, sending the beskar you wore on your crown sliding down over your eyes, letting the quicksilver flash of its curved surfaces tell him you meant business. Your jabs got a little meaner, though if you hit him too much harder his own beskar would probably break your fingers. Between his metal plates were a few soft spots, and you honed in on them with sneaky digits. Din jerked visibly when you got the one right under his chest piece, and a swift arm came up and caught your next offence. “Ohoho, so you are awake, I was beginning to think you had fallen asleep on me.”

“I’m not going to hit you.” His words came through his modulator like gravel, irritated that you would even think he would lay a hand on you. Shrugging, you knocked him right in the forehead with the heel of your palm, making his helmet clonk against the durasteel. The next jab you threw was caught and thrown back to you, him tossing your fist away. You went for him again, but when he grabbed both your fists you were pushed back with the force of him rising from his seat. He marched you backwards and shoved you away, then brought his vambraces up in a defensive block, ready for the next attack.

You took one last glance at the foundling, who was sitting sweetly in the grassy meadow, absently trying to catch motes of pollen that were floating by, before launching into your assault. Your fists stung at him with reckless abandon, not enough to actually hurt either of you, though he probably wouldn’t have felt it anyway under his pile of armor. Mando blocked everything you hurled at him, making good on his promise not to hit you, but that was taking all the fun out of it. “Come on, rust bucket, stand up for yourself!” He took everything you gave, deflecting every thrown fist and slowly inching his way closer to you until you were taking steps back to open up your jabs.

“You really want me to fight you? Fine.” He barked, whacking your next punch away. You jumped back to dodge a rapid slew of hook shots, cackling like a lunatic that you had gotten your wish granted.

“Yes! Come on, big boy, fight me! Let’s go! I’m gonna kick your- ass!” Din lunged at you, tackling you like a linebacker and throwing you against the wall. Cornered, you snapped your head forward and rang his bell, disorienting him enough that you could drop out of his grasp and dash out between his legs. He turned on you in an instant, and you made ‘come at me bro’ hands at him before he was on you again. He swiped with a left hook, chuffing you lightly on the shoulder while you socked him back; though you weren’t nearly as gentle, stinging your knuckles on his unyielding iron.

A bandoliered boot went for your shins, and you stomped back at it, kicking sideways at the plates of his thighs. You hopped, switched legs, and spun a roundhouse straight into the side of his gut. On anyone else it would have been a crippling blow, but your Mandalorian grabbed your lifted ankle and hauled you to him, using your own weight against you to palm your sternum and flip you on your back. The wind was knocked from your lungs when you hit the floor, but not enough that you didn’t get a knee up as he tried to pin you under him, and you kicked up into his gut and flipped him over your head; the sound of his armor hitting the ground ringing loud and ugly.

You kicked up and tossed yourself backwards in the same spring, putting you over top of his breastplate. Throwing your knees back you locked his arms under your ankles, straddling his chest so you could hold his helmet down. “That all you got?”

“You wish!” Din squirmed and kneed you in the ass, tossing you off of him. You rolled away and scrambled to your feet, narrowly avoiding another flying tackle. The cabin of the Crest wasn’t giving you much space to work with, and you hauled ass down down the ramp before he could catch you again. “Oh now you want me to chase you, ner riduur?” He hollered, swinging his arms wide in a challenging stance.

You turned and wiggled your ass at him, slapping yourself tauntingly before the sound of armored thunder had you running for cover. You ran past the foundling on the ground, braking quickly next to him to pat his head before his father was upon you, and you missed being snatched by the skin of your teeth.

Hopping back a few paces you put up your dukes, and this time the beskar took the bait. The Mandalorian threw punches left and right, more forceful than he had started with but not enough to actually hurt. You took a few blows to your forearms and shoulders before lashing out with a wild throw. The sound of fists on metal echoed against the tree trunks that surrounded the sunny meadow while you took on the mighty warrior, though armor was kicking your ass for him, and you nearly dashed yourself to pieces on the plate of his chest.

“Had enough yet?”

You roared in response and threw your whole body at him, making quick jabs at the meat of his sides where his armor was thinnest. He keeled sideways, dropped himself into a crouch, and lunged, tackling you to the ground. Damn it! Time to fight dirty! You pulled an arm free of his grasp and grabbed his cloak, throwing it over his helmet and wrapping it up tight, temporarily blinding him. He sat up to try and unravel the fabric from his face, and in that split second you grabbed the backs of his knees and yanked, flopping him back down onto his back. The pinner had become the pin-ee, and you squashed yourself up between his legs and thrust into his groin, making him keen in surprise.

“You’re mine, bantha-butt!” Tangled in the cloak he squirmed under you until he was free of your trap, giving you a confused head tilt at your position. You hooked your arms under his knees and ground yourself up against his ass, making him grunt underneath you before he wrapped his legs around your middle and rolled, throwing you down onto the ground. Both of you grappled for dominance, rolling and tossing each other through the soft, dampish grass until you were on top of him again, straddling his waist.

“That’s better.” He hummed, grabbing your wrists and pulling you down to him where he could wrap his arms around your writhing form. “You’re mine, you little womp rat.”

“Nuh uh! You’re under me, that means I win, chumbucket.” You threw your weight around, trying to coax one more good roll out of the two of you, but he had you in his clutches. A dark, lecherous laugh reverberated in your ear, and you felt him rut up against your crotch to demand your complacency. Between your legs the faintest outline of his shaft slotted against you, fitting so well against the cradle of your body that it really might have been made just for you; but you grabbed his shoulders and pushed him harder into the grass. “Not in front of the foundling, you big horndog.”

“Says the one riding me.” A soft, leather-clad hand left your captured shoulders to slide your mask up and brush the grass from your hair, gently tucking a stray lock behind your ear; and you pressed your face into his palm as it passed back down. The rumble in his chest went right through your legs up your spine until your cheeks blushed under his thumbs. “Mesh’la…”

Something twitched under you, and as much as you would like to indulge him, sass came to you more naturally. “Is this why you didn’t wanna fight me?” You rolled your hips over his, giving him a tantalizing tease. “Gets you all fired up?”

His helmet rolled, trying to avoid your skull-boring gaze. “Maybe…”

“Well maybe when we get into hyperspace we can do something about that, but not until that one has gone to bed.”

Ahead of you the foundling was laying back in the grass, watching his adopted parents with big googly eyes. Din followed your gaze, and the two of you made stupid little waves at your child. Beans waved back and stood up, teetering over to the pair of you on his little stubby legs. You laid against the breadth of your mate’s chest and reached for the goofy green baby, who happily ran into your arms.

“Heya, Goob! What’cha up to, huh? Catchin’ bugs?” You sat up and leaned back, ignoring the heavy hands that laid on your thighs while you chatted with the foundling. The baby gibbered and told you all about his fun in the sun, but under you the slow gyration of hips was starting to get distracting. “Beans, tell your dad to stop being naughty.”

“Me? You started this.”

“Bah! I don’t start things, I only finish them.” Under you your beskar burdened buddy sighed and let his head fall back into the grass, shaking it back and forth at your foolishness. You hefted the foundling up in the air, making him squeal in delight, and the sweet sounds of his laughter gave you a better idea. “You know what? I bet he would like to pick a puck!”

“Thank the fucking stars, does that mean we can get going?”

“Yeah yeah fussbucket come on. You’re so damn impatient!” You made one last amorous swirl of your hips before leaping up from your man, running with the baby high above your head as you dashed circles around the ship. It was good for both of you to spend time together that wasn’t just on the trail, and you treasured the few moments of comfort you got to have as a pack between hunts. You ran a few more laps before flying up the ramp to where Mando had already beaten you there, and you plopped the baby down on the makeshift table where the pucks had miraculously survived your wrassling. “Ok buddy boy, can you pick a puckie for me?”

The baby tossed his arms in the air and squeaked like he would rather go for another round of flight simulator, but you plopped down on the ground in front of him and pointed at the pucks again. He tilted his head, making his airplane ears flop akimbo. The foundling looked down at the pucks, back up to you, and then -slapped- the one in the middle as hard as he could. The pucks projector fired up and glowed ghostly blue in front of the child’s wondrous eyes, and he tried to grab at the thing showing in its center.

The holo must be malfunctioning, maybe the baby hit it too hard, but the picture wasn’t of a face, or even a person for that matter; it was something round, egg shaped almost. Beside you, your Mandalorian was making the same confused head tilts that you were, and he tapped a leather finger to the puck’s button, turning it off and on again, but the same image remained. “That can’t be right, have you ever seen one like this?”

You shook your head, puzzled by the purplish object that floated before you. Maybe it was some kind of stone or seed, or even an egg like its shape suggested. The pucknotes had a counter next to the ovoid, indicating that more credits would be rewarded for the quantity of items procured. Besides a description of the item and the indicator, the puck notes had one last useful tidbit of information, the last known location:

Hoth.

“Wait, Hoth? There’s nothing on Hoth! You sure this thing’s not fucked up?” Din shrugged, making his plates clack before he got up and started getting the ship around, closing ramps and scooting crates back into place. “Shit balls of hell, alright! Fucking Hoth it is.” You’d been to Hoth maybe all of two times chasing down the stupidest, most idiotic bounties, and not once had you seen anything of value there. “Of course it has to be somewhere cold, we already did cold. One of those fucking pucks better go to a goddamn beach or something or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“You sure you haven’t already? I mean,” Din stopped rearranging the furniture to swagger up to you, catching your hand in his own. “You did try to fight with a Mandalorian.”

“Bah! And I’d do it again, too, you’re not that intimidating.” Playfully you tried to take your hand back, but he was a professional bounty hunter, and he didn’t let his captures get away so easily. Thick, leatherbound fingers laced themselves between your own, and your other arm was taken hostage and brought to his shoulder so he could rest a heavy palm on your hip unhindered. You let your hand wander up his pauldron to the edge of his helmet, sneaking a finger between the metal and the man to toy with his curls. The hand on your waist pulled you closer, and he gently pressed his helmet to your brow.

“Riduur’ika,” He purred, making the cool beskar rumble against your skin. “You don’t think I’m… intimidating!?” The arm against your waist hugged you tight while the other twirled you around in a circle, and you made some kind of undignified squeak as you were dipped low. Parallel to the ship's floor, you clawed at his cowl as if he would drop you, though his grip was stronger than beskar. You caught the reflection of your own wild eyes as his visor tilted to meet your gaze. “How about now?”

Safe in his arms, you snorted a laugh and stuffed your hands under his helmet to pick the latches free and toss the heavy thing off, ignoring the sound of it rolling away from you while you kissed your husband. The Mandalorian’s warm, soft lips against your own muffled the few stray giggles that tried to escape your mouth, tickled by not only his romance but also his mustache. Those dark chocolate eyes of his met your own, and the edges of his cheeks rolled right up into them with a dazzling smile. Maker help you.

“Din! Where the hell did you pick that up from?” A warm laugh reverberated against you before he was pushing his lips to yours in another fiery kiss.

“Saw it in a holovid once, some kind of… courtship ritual, I think. I’ve, uh, always wanted to t-try it…” His wavering baritone trailed off with a hint of embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but snicker.

“‘Courtship ritual’, huh? Golly gee willikers, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”

His cheeks flushed pink, “Is it working?”

“Mmm… no.”

The gorgeous smile on his scruffy face was replaced with a scowl a mile wide, but you laughed and kissed at it anyway. You heard him inhale sharply when you started to push your tongue past his lips, and he met yours with his own. Without parting, he slowly stood the pair of you back up, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him even closer.

Free from the muck of the forest floor that had clung to his armor, or the stygian waters of the river soaking his cloak, the familiar scent of him had returned. Rich and smokey, sweat and leather and blast plasma and the faintest remnants of the fresher soap you adored. The spice of him saturated your lungs and drenched your heart with the promise of his eternal company, giving you that delightfully warm and gooey feeling that he alone could give.

You pulled your lips from his and kissed at his cheeks and the tip of his angular nose before grabbing the sides of his head and bringing his brow back to yours. He almost fought you over it, torn between wanting his lips against your skin and the joy of you indulging in his sacred inheritance. Either way, the stubborn little ‘patu’ that peeped up from the floor had you both pulling away to bring the foundling into your arms, you were a clan of three, after all.

It would take a few jumps to make it to your next destination, and if she could speak, the Razor Crest would tell you how glad she was for your company as she carried you through the stars. There had been a time in the old ship’s life where she had only known silence, save for the screams of captured bounties, her hull had been nearly barren with only her captain for comfort. But then the foundling had come into her Mandalorian’s life, and the sweet sounds of a child’s laughter warmed her steel heart, amplified tenfold by the starsongs you brought with you when you had arrived as well.

Like a serenade written to the stars themselves the three of you flowed through her ironsides, a triple-part harmony that reverberated from the top of her transparisteel dome to the depths of her cantankerous stardrive. The chimes of the navigation panel had gone unheard while the streaking stars spiralled around the old dropper, her passengers fully engrossed with each other's company. There was so much laughter now, between stories told and songs sang high, the starcraft’s walls nearly rang with mirth.

The jokes you would tell, as terrible as they often were, made the Crest’s captain smile so often now; his scruffy cheeks going right up into his eyes whenever he flashed those pearly whites. He was so sweet, so gentle when the beskar was lifted from him, as if a new man was made every time the armor fell away. The oath of riddurok had given him such a gift, the gift of touch, and he relished in it at every turn; pressing kisses to the faces of the two he loved most.

And when it was time to rest, hidden away in the little sleeping alcove the three of you laid, wrapped more tightly together than any captured quarry. Below the howl of the hyperdrive engine, so faint it was almost like a secret, would come the sound of your starsongs. For your boys alone would you let yourself remember the rhymes of timelost sailors, sang low and slow to ease them to sleep. The foundling usually blacked right out on the first verses, but your unarmored husband would grapple with the pull of sleep for as long as he could, just to hear your voice.

When you dropped out of hyperspace the uncaring iceball called Hoth dominated your view, nearly blinding you with its glaring white surface. Your captain flew the Crest over the snowy expanse, looking for any sign of life or even a point of interest, but the ice fields seemed to stretch on forever between snow covered steppes. You had to pull your visor down just to be able to look out the window, and you attempted to cycle its settings as if that would do you any good, but everything came back as solid colors as far as the eye could see.

“This is bullshit, there’s nothing down there.” In your palm the bounty puck glowed faintly, making a liar out of you; but you ignored it to watch a herd of large, bipedal herbivores making their way along a mountainous ridge. The Crest put the animals in the rear view quicker than you would have liked, and you leaned against the transparisteel with a huff. In your lap the foundling was watching joyfully out the window, seemingly undeterred by the blinding snow. You started trying to get the baby rearranged when you saw the fob flash erratically before going back to lazy blinks. “Din wait! I think we passed it!”

“Passed what? I don’t see anything.” Below you the vast expanse was flat as a fresh pressed sheet, only dotted here and there with specks of icy blue.

“Circle around!” You tucked the foundling under your arm and unbuckled yourself from your seat to squish into the narrow space between Din’s armrest and the dashboard so he could see the fob for himself. He slowed the mighty metal bird down as slow as she would go and flew her in a wide circle back towards the way you’d come in.

Flash… flash… flash flash flASHFLAsh flash… flash…

“You see that? There gotta be something down there, maybe it’s under the snow. Take us down, captain!” In the corner of your eye you caught the slightest jostle of his helmet, though it could have just as easily been the rocking of the ship that made his head move, but you knew better. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, captain.” The poorly veiled cheekiness in his voice was met with a loving suckerpunch against the side of his pauldron. You’d completely failed to learn your lesson about the bite of beskar, and you hissed at the iron’s sting on your knuckles. The Crest floated down gently, her engines kicking up flurries of crisp white snow over the broad expanse. The moment the landing struts had locked into place your armored companion was grabbing for your wrist. “That’s why you shouldn’t try to fight me, mesh’la.”

“Bite me.”

A soft thumbpad brushed gently against your reddening knuckles, making you wince just slightly. The black gloss of his single eye slowly coasted up to meet your own, then cocked sideways. “Looks like I already did.” With his other hand he lifted the edge of his helmet just enough to press the softest kiss to the back of your hand, and though his sweetness made your heart thunder against its cage, the wry upturn of his lips almost made you want to punch him again.

Under your arm the foundling squirmed and cooed, and you brushed your captured hand along the edge of your husband’s bristly jaw before pulling the child around to your chest so you could both look out the window. The alabaster plains stretched out in all directions like the Dune Sea of Tatooine, nothing for miles.

“Din I think this fob is busted, and probably the puck too, there’s fuckall out-”

*-crik- c-c-crrrack craack!-*

Something snap-crackle-popped outside the ship, like the sound of suspension cables breaking. High pitched creaks between deep, almost gutterel booms. Ice.

“Cyare… don’t… move.” The armored monolith was frozen solid, more frozen than the ice underneath you apparently. Not even the sound of his modulated breathing could be heard in the stillness of the flightdeck.

*...cricckckcick..creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak……cruUNCH!-*

The ship lurched, a vicious gash splitting the ice below you. You lurched with it, your heart leaping to your throat as your arms squished the baby tight. A gloved hand shot from the steering controls to steady you.

*-k-k-reaaaak thuddduddudud… crRONCH!-*

“Oh fuck.”

*….CrAcK-!*

The Crest tilted nose-first into the growing abyss, and your oathsworn had only a split second to haul you and the foundling into his seat before the old girl was hurtling through the breach.

For a moment you were in free fall, a canyon of aquamarine flying past the window, darkening with every passing second. It felt like slow motion, your legs becoming weightless while the rest of you was anchored to the pilots seat.

*-ka-RuNcH!-*

Rigid muscle and beskar enveloped you as the Razor hit the ground, metal crunching and screeching with the impact. Your deathgrip on the foundling was only matched by the armored grasp around you, keeping the two of you locked safely to Din’s chest. Bulbs flickered and wires sparked in the waning light of the flight deck, though your eyes were so tightly screwed shut you didn’t notice. You took a cautious breath, only now aware that you had been holding it before wrenching an eye open. Beskar dominated your view, the heavy helmet of your husband pressed tightly to your face.

“Are you ok?” came a modulated whisper.

“Yeah, are you?” He nodded against you, and you peeled yourselves apart to inspect the foundling that was encased between your chests. Baby Beans chirruped and ogled at his fussing buir, the two of you knocking into each other while you both checked him for damage. When he’d passed both your inspections you glanced around the cockpit, though you guessed from the sound of the impact most of the damage would be down below.

You practically needed a crowbar to get Din’s arms off of you, his protector’s instinct running at full bore to guard his clan, but you managed to weasel out of his iron grasp. Frigid air gusted up through the ladder hole before you’d even crossed the short distance to the drophatch, making you shudder. Below, the force of the impact had torn the Razor’s walls asunder, breaking apart her riveted seams. Icy wind blew in through the gashes, freezing the mist that sprang from your eyes.

“Oh, my poor Lady…” You whispered, your heart aching from seeing your ship so wounded. Heavy boots made their way down the ladder behind you, and you turned to your oathsworn, “Can… can we fix this?”

“We can try, but you need something warmer.” Stoic as the day you met, Mando strode to the bent lockers and forced his way in, pulling out a heavy parka and draping it around your shoulders. The cold weather garb was entirely too big for you, but it snuggled around you like a warm hug, blocking out the frigid breeze. In your arms the foundling peeped out from the collar, just enough to watch his papa without getting too chilly.

Din was elbow deep in another wrecked cabinet, scrounging up whatever tools he could find to repair the damage. You joined him at the growing pile, holding onto the child with one arm and trying to pick a portable welder up with the other. Hands too full, you ducked into the oversized parka and worked to stuff the baby up under your shirt, cinching your belt under his butt so he wouldn’t fall out. There, stay warm you little fart.

It took a while for the two of you to make enough progress on the broken bird to get her closed up again, but many hands make the work lighter. Ship repair had been your very first duty when you went starborne, and your hands remembered how to bend durasteel to your will, though you would probably need to get to an actual mechanic if you were going to be star-worthy again.

Occasionally you caught the tilt of your Mandalorian’s visor when you fired up the welder or cranked a ratchet against a stubborn bolt, snapping away from you when you’d shoot him a sly wink. Once the cabin was passable, it was time to work on the exterior, but you swatted at Din’s occupied mitts, demanding that the two of you take a rest beforehand. His back cracked when he stood up straight, and though he wouldn’t admit it, a break was a good idea.

“Do you have a kettle or something I can make hot water in? I think I saw a canister of broth we can heat up.” Your repair work on the hull must have been pretty damn efficient, because the parka was beginning to get warm, and you started to shrug it off when you heard the rackety sound of something clattering to the floor.

“B-buir’ika?” Behind you, Din had dropped a heavy tool and was staring at you with that black hole gaze of his.

“Boo-ear-eeka? What does- oh!” You glanced down at yourself and laughed, your tunic protruding with a large, rounded tummy. “Chilly beans!” Bending forward, you pulled your collar down so your oathsworn could see the half-lidded eyes of the cozy foundling hidden below the swell of your breasts. “I didn’t want him to get cold.”

When you looked up from the babe’s sweet face, your armored husband had silently crossed the length of the hold and was nervously reaching towards you, his hands hovering over the lumpy shape in your middle. Gently he set his palms to where the child was bundled, slowly gliding over the taut fabric and making you flush crimson. Din did a double take on your cherry-red face and pulled away, muttering an apology and hastily returning to his duty as kettle-fetcher.

When you’d gotten the foundling out of your shirt and the thin soup heated, you sat down on your regular eating crate with your crew. The three of you took your break quietly since eating or drinking in your presence still made Din a little embarrassed, but between his timidness and the awkward term of endearment the tension in the cabin was so thick you could cut it with a vibro. He usually pressed his back to yours, but now he was hunched over his bowl of broth, sipping silently.

When your cup was empty you got up from your seat, pressed a kiss to each of your boy’s heads, and got your tools around to work on the outside of the Crest. You were garbed and out the exit before Din could protest, though you wouldn’t have listened anyway if he did. Once the ramp closed behind you, you took a deep breath of the glacial air, letting it clear your head. Shore leave was a luxury you rarely got to indulge in during your early years, and your love of having your boots on the ground only got stronger as the years went by.

The basin you had crashed into sprawled beneath the ice sheet high above your head, supported by enormous pillars of frozen water. This had probably been a lake once, or even a small sea, but when the water drained it left behind the frozen aquifer you now found yourself stuck in. High above you the light from where you had fallen through the ice cast frosty sunbeams through the falling snow, faintly illuminating the mythical columns in cobalt and turquoise hues.

Your boots crunched through the ancient permafrost as you made your rounds, taking a mental checklist of the Razor’s damage. Her keel had taken the brunt of the impact, but one of her wingtips was pretty busted up, a twisted panel sending sparks into the cerulean cathedral that would probably take two people to fix.

Out of curiosity you pulled the blinker from somewhere in your parka, relieved to see that it was indeed flashing. If you had thrown your crew to the depths of Niflheim on a busted fob you might never forgive yourself. You wondered what the acoustics would be like in the icy cavern, but the threat of bringing the fragile ice sheet down around your ears kept you quiet. Holding the fob up, you made a wide circle around the ship, trying to pinpoint which way the blinks were fastest. This way… You cast a quick glance over your shoulder at the Crest with her ramps still closed, and started towards your quarry.

~

In the ship's durasteel depths, Din sighed and groaned, unsure how to feel. He hated not being next to you, but he respected you enough to know you might need some space after… that. He tried to distract himself by wiping off the foundling’s mush-mouth with the edge of his cloak, but that almost made things worse. Our foundling.

Everything about The Way encouraged the safety and procreation of younglings, and not only as a riduur but also an Alor he should be fathering many children with you to recover Mandalore’s losses. But you had said you weren’t ready, and he honored your wishes, but even so, his heart ached with the desire to see you filled with his warriors.

He knew he shouldn’t, but that was suddenly all he could imagine, you round and glowing and full…

“Damn it.” He could feel his face flush red, and the honeyglow seeped through his bones all the way down to his guts, forcing him to pull his helmet back on just to regain his composure. When the visor was back over his eyes, he glanced down at the foundling, who was making some kind of face up at him. “This is your fault.”

“Patu!”

~

The Crest was a good distance behind you now, the edges of her wings partially obscured by the ice, but not quite out of eyeshot. The air was stagnant so far below the surface, the cold of it sitting heavy in your lungs and freezing inside your nose. Aside from the towers of frost and fallen snow, the cavern was empty. Enormous, but empty. This fucking fob, there’s nothing here. You were half tempted to chuck the hunk of garbage away or stomp it out, take the loss just to get the fuck out of here, when you felt a subtle breeze waft over you.

You were too far from the breach for it to be coming from above you, and you held perfectly still, trying to determine its source. Too faint, you bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, chucking it high above you and watching the way it fell. That way! Suddenly excited to play Arctic Explorer, you hustled to find the source of the breeze.

Twice more you used the snow as a compass until you were at a colossal glacier, the size of it easily big enough to swallow a large starship. A splotch of dark blue stood out against the ivory, and as you got closer you saw it was a fissure in the ice, a tunnel of some kind. Maybe this is where the water went. The air coming out of it was making your parka flap around you while you held up the fob: flashflashflash. Whatever it is you were tracking had to be down there, and you brushed ice crystals off of your faceplate to flip through your extrasensory settings until thermal flickered to life.

Warm. The air coming out of the tunnel was warm, though only by a few degrees more; not enough to thaw your bones, but enough to register on your visor. You stepped forward, tucking your head into the tunnel. Dark as the depths of an ocean and just as blue, the frozen tube stretched away, darker and darker until it turned to void. Stepping just inside the entrance, you flailed when your boots nearly lost traction.

This is dangerous, I don’t know what’s in there. A gust of air blasted around you as if to warn you away. Could be anything, maybe I should wait for- Ah FUCK!

The thought was knocked from your skull when your boots slipped out from under you and you slid ass over teakettle down the icy channel, vanishing into the dark.

~

The inside of the Crest was immaculate, more ship-shape that she had been in a long time. Din had to keep busy, after the repairs were given another once-over and you still hadn’t returned he had started reshelving all the tools and cookware, and only when the last thing left to do was mop did he give up his endeavors. Where the hell is she? He was getting anxious, more so than he usually was. His hands fidgeted with the strap that crossed his chest, thumbing at each of the slugs in line. She should be back by now.

What if she’s hurt? His hands froze on the leather, his breath catching in his chest. He knew you were capable, but what if something got you, or you fell or… or…

“Kid, let’s go.” The ‘what ifs’ that drained out of his thoughts and down his throat turned to bile in the pit of his stomach, and he had to do something about it. She can be as mad at me as she wants, I don’t care, I just need to know she’s safe. Quickly he grabbed a few supplies, loading up his rucksack with rehearsed precision: bacta, shovel, thermos, jet pack, munitions, rations. The foundling gibbered while his papa wrapped him up in a heavy blanket before setting him in his pram. I’m coming, cyare!

~

The slip-and-slide you had gotten yourself into wooshed past your ears, and you could only curl in a ball to protect yourself as you hurtled through the chasm of ice. The violet hue coming through your visor slowly turned to warmer tones as the temperature steadily increased. You struggled to grab a vibro off of your belt as you spun through the dark, but the singing dagger only scraped against the solid ice, the permafrost so old and strong that not even steel could cut it.

Under you the angle changed sharply, tossing you on your ass over another slope before you were falling through the air. You tucked and rolled when you hit the ground, desperately trying not to get your neck broken. Skittering to a halt, you cautiously let yourself uncurl, but what your eyes saw made you think you had landed on your head.

“Woah.”

~

The top of the Crest was still damaged, though Mando knew you had left with the intent to do repairs. Not up there. Your footprints circled around the old ship in a few loops before heading off into the cavern. Fuck, where did she go? The prints from your shoes still glowed faintly with residual heat on his visor, and he checked on the foundling’s comfort one more time before following your trail.

~

The Universe has a strange way of granting wishes.

Crystalline gravel crunched underfoot as you approached the beach you had landed in front of. Mineral-rich water bubbled and boiled in front of you with volcanic heat, steaming up the chamber you now found yourself in. The thick, viscous ooze was so leden with salts that its edges were caked with jagged deposits that lapped against the sides of tall, crested structures that almost resembled a reef. The subterranean coral ranged in size and height from just below your knees to easily three times your height, almost brushing the stalactites that hung from the vaulted ceiling.

You wished you had a holo-corder or data cube handy, because there was no way anybody had been here before, though maybe for good reason. The colors on your visor ranged from bright yellow to teal to hot motherfuckin’ pink, and you lifted your faceplate up to wipe at the sweat that was beading on your brow. The vibrancy of the reef without your sensors was even more garish in person, caught in the radiant light that seemed to drip from the ceiling on the tails of glow worms.

The ground under your boots sounded like glass breaking as you wandered through the cavern, spellbound by the sprawling grove. It took a herculean effort to bring your gaze down to the fob in your hand: FLASHFLASHFLASH! You held the tracker high, doing a little spin to try and locate the target, letting your feet walk on their own. Maybe the coral is the target? Stopping at a particular orange staghorn, you held the fob to its spongy flesh, nope, not this one…

From fan to tube to spiraling tower you walked, holding the fob up to each one in turn, waiting for a solid link. The reef thickened as you moved away from the lagoon, growing in taller and thicker clusters until you had to scrape your way between them to continue. Under your parka you were sweating like a quacta, but the spiny polyps on some of the branches could easily scratch you without it as you wormed your way between them. The crystalline gravel under you started to make a different noise, from a crunchacrunch to a squishasquash. Beneath your boots, long, dark purple roots were growing, pulsating with the fluid that flowed through their veins. Eww…

~

The silence of the cerulean cathedral weighed heavy on Mando's audio processors, more so than the stillness of the air. He was in full hunter mode, following your tracks to where you were hopefully safe and sound, though if he let himself think anything else he worried he might have a full blown panic attack. No, can’t think about that. Find the quarry, find your wife. Don’t think about her being hurt, or lost or scared or…

From the open pram a chirruping coo echoed softly between the towering pillars of ice, bringing Din’s attention to his son. Though the foundling looked alright, the tips of his ears were turning the faintest shade of blue. Din pulled his cloak off, though he needed it just as much in the sub-zero space, his foundling always came first. The fabric heaped out of the pram, almost covering the child completely. If she were here, would she put the baby in her shirt again to keep him warm?

Suddenly he didn’t need his cloak, the fire in his chest surging out to burn at his ribs and scald his cheeks. He stopped, shaking his head at the embarrassment that sprouted from his scorched insides. You’ve got it bad, Djarin. Your tracks had lost their heat, but he could still clearly see your footprints in the snow, and a flood of determination spurred him on. Find the quarry.

~

The dark purple roots lead you to a grove of anemone shaped corals, their thick tentacles reaching for the jagged sky. At the center of their radials sat a fat, lumpy bulb, protected by fleshy limbs. Draped between the spires, more of the icky veins hung like vines, throbbing and pulsing with whatever goo they were filled with.

Touching the blinker to the closest arm, the flashing red light went solid, bingo! “This is it!” Your excited voice would have echoed in the chamber that you had fallen from, but the sponges soaked up your words. You’d left the puck back on the Crest, but you remember you were here for some kind of shape, eggish or stone like, but the waving arms arched upwards into bare, knobbly tips. Fruitless.

That left the pod in the center, probably some kind of seed in the bottom of its pistil. Gonna have to cut my way though. You turned your attention to the viney spires that blocked your path to the center and pulled a vibro from your now sweat-soaked parka. Cautiously, and without turning on the thrummer, you touched the blade to the creeping flesh.

Your knife sank easily, and the fluid that filled the tentacles oozed readily out over the steel. Oooooh, pretty! Though it was mostly clear, the syrup gleamed with a holographic, oily shine, looking like a melted rainbow as it seeped through the wound. The open gash quickly grew new vines that slimed their way around their host trunk, pulsating with goop. Weird.

What hit you next was the smell, an intoxicating sweetness like honey on fruit sitting out on a hot summer day. If the anemone was poisonous, it had a devilish way of attracting its prey, whatever that might be, because the temptation to lick your knife clean became almost overwhelming. That is the stupidest goddamn idea you’ve ever had, get cuttin’, damn it! You hacked and slashed your way to the center, trying to out-cut the regrowth; but the scent quickly made you feel hazy. You reached out to grab one of the arms for support, your cloudy head threatening to toss you on your ass, and the serpentine buds tried to coil around your wrists. Sonofabitch! Fuck off ya big vegetable. Just… just a little further.

~

“Of course this is where she went.” Standing at the crack in the ice, Mando was pacing back and forth with his hands stabbed to his hips. Your tracks ended abruptly at the fissure, and the slick surface told him you had probably slipped and fell into the dark, and he was going to have to jump down after you. The hole stretched far away through the ice, so far that not even his full helmet’s array of sensors could detect the bottom. He rested a boot on the icy surface, giving it an experimental slip. If he fell down the hole as well, he would be no good to either of you.

Every protective instinct told him to jump, go in after you, get you to safety, but his hunter instincts knew better. Fishing the trencher from his bag, he sat down at the entrance and tucked the shovel under his knees, pointy side out. He pulled the foundling’s crib into his lap and carefully started the slide. The shovel blade screeched against the tunnel, and though it couldn’t break the ice it would at least slow him down as he scraped his way through the dark.

~

You were dizzy, the coral’s perfume making you falter. Your goal was so close, but in your haze you were starting to get tangled in the vines that laced through the anemone's arms, and it wasn’t long before they were tangled around your own outstretched limbs. Stupid fern, ger’off me! Yanking against the tendrils only seemed to make things worse, and soon your legs were being caught up as well. Fuckin’shit’it’all. Progress to the core stopped completely, and you stood a moment to catch your breath. Fucksake, this shit is strong! You knew you weren’t moving, but even dazed you could feel something snaking around your boots, and you kicked at the movement, horrified to find that you couldn’t. Shit balls of fucking hell!

The slimy vines coiled around your legs, and you fought valiantly to cut them away, but the more you cut the more seemed to grow like hydras from the anemone's wounds. They were up to your knees, then your waist, and the weight of them started to pull on you until you were dragged to the ground. Struggling in their grasp, they tightened on your arms until you could only writhe like an insect caught in a spiders web. You started to scream, but the creeping thing stuffed itself up under your faceplate and plunged into your mouth.

Something warm and wet oozed between your teeth, and you bit down on the assaulting tendril, only to flood your mouth with more of the sweet syrup. Even in your panic you were taken aback by the taste of it, sweet and rich, almost ambrosial, and a wildly primal instinct told you that you wanted more. Around your limbs the vines were not constricting, merely holding you down, and you took another cautious gulp of the nectar. Your fear began to subside, though in the back of your mind you knew it shouldn’t; you were in a subterranean hellscape, far away from your partner, with some bullshit plant keeping you hostage, but maybe one more taste wouldn’t hurt...

You sucked at the intruder, delighted to find it give you more of the tasty substance, the flavor of it settling warm and snuggly in your belly. Closing your eyes you lapped away, enjoying the hazy, almost drunken feeling that was washing over you. It was blissful and comforting, even wrapped up in the living spires you couldn’t be bothered to care as long as you got to have more.

Something slithered up around your legs and waist, but caught up in the ambrosia you paid it no mind until it was worming its way into the waistband of your pants. Your trousers were pulled down around the tops of your boots, and though the sweltering volcanic atmosphere was making you sweat, the heat burning between your legs almost made the air feel cold. The sudden change in temperature reeled you back to reality, and you tried to spit the vine out while you squirmed in the hydra’s grasp. Another gush of nectar leaked over your tongue, and you greedily sucked it down, feeling another wave of cozy fogginess settle in your head.

Not even the sweetness on your lips could distract you from the feeling of something slimeing its way between your legs, leaving a trail of slick around your entrance. The goop tingled, leaving the same warm and wet feeling behind that it was leaving in your throat. Maker help you it felt good, though some distant instinct screamed to you that it shouldn’t, but you couldn’t hear it if you wanted to. Your back arched, driving your hips against the coils between your thighs, chasing the sensation.

The hydra’s arms pushed their way inside you, many thin strands that sqirmed and writhed, working to stretch you wider. Their efforts slicked past your clit, rubbing the tantalizing ooze around the sensitive little nub while they opened you up. Your hips rocked on their own, though in your captured state you were nearly helpless to chase your own high, but the coral’s limbs worked you up for you. Inside you could feel them, sliding past each other in the warm slick in tandem with the rubbing on your aching clit making you obscenely wetter.

You cried out around the knob still in your mouth as a thicker arm started to push up into you, gliding through the slick nectar. The smaller vines coiled around the newcomer, spiraling up its length as it started to pump in and out of your dripping cunt, adding ridges to the smooth length. Fuck it’s thick! The ties on your legs held you in place as the tendril fucked itself into you, twisting and slimeing around your insides. Hot streams of juice, both yours and the hydra’s, coursed down your thighs almost embarrassingly fast, and you choked and gasped around the spigot while you came.

As if it was emboldened by your orgasm the tentacle surged up into you, leaking what felt like gallons of the wonderful, mind numbing nectar into your fluttering cunt until it was pouring out of you. It thrust against your cervix, dragging the smaller tips around the sensitive muscle. More of the threadlike tendrils tried to push in with the larger one, plucking at your clit and folds and playing you like a sinful harp.

The sensation of it all stoked fire in your core until it was nearly burning you alive, and you gladly let the blaze consume you as the devious creature fucked you stupid. Warm juice practically gushed out of you when you came again, squirting all over the arms that held you captive. Your legs were pulled further apart, anything to open you up to fit more of the sneaky devils in you until you were stretched as wide as you would go, the girth of the serpentis shaft pushing against the bones of your hips from the inside.

Slicked thoroughly, the widest arm rolled against the muscle that protected your womb, and even in your lust-drunk state you could feel it pouring its juices into you. The smaller tendrils followed the nectar up into you where no cock could ever reach, teasing at the rim of the protective coil until it started to relax. More pushed past the ring of muscle until you could feel it gaping, holding you open against the large, blunt tip.

The thrusting stopped, and you mewled sinfully around the vine between your teeth, begging it not to, oh fuck please don’t stop! Whatever aphrodisiac you had been pumped full of was screaming for more more more! Your body hungered for more release, as if you hadn’t drenched the surrounding reef underneath you. You flickered an eye open, but the way your back was curved gave you no vantage of the scene below your waist, but you could see the central pod you had so valiantly tried, and failed, to reach.

From a hole in its top grew the amorphophallus that was filling you so deliciously, and you watched in horror as it pulsed something bulbous up its length. The bulge got closer until it disappeared from your line of view, but it wasn’t long before you felt it, something big pushing against your entrance. You cried out against the gag, but you were held steadfast as the rounded thing forced its way inside you.

The width of it knocked against your hip bones until it was past their crest, and you clenched as best you could around the delicious stretch until you felt something you’ve never felt before. You’ve been fingered, you’ve been fucked and loved and filled to capacity, but the weight of something being deposited in your belly was something wonderfully new. The heft of it felt good, filling and wholesome, though the feeling of terror was still trying to permeate your hazy mind, telling you to run, as if you could. Your hands were bound to your sides, but you wanted to rub at your belly and feel what had been put there. The press of another orb teased at your entrance, and you bucked your hips at it, encouraging another fill.

So good! The unknown object settled in your womb next to the first, the size of them pressing against the back of your abdominal wall, any more and you would be showing. A third bulge made itself known, and you seized your coils around it, letting it bring you to release with its stretch. You came around the vines, and the hydra wormed another pod past your cervix, riding with you through your high. A fourth, a fifth, sixth! You forced an eye open, and the swell of your stomach was visible over the curves of your breasts. Fuuuuck, any more and you really might be fit to burst.

Three more times you were gloriously stretched and drained, the exertion of so many orgasms nearly causing you to faint, but you would do so gladly in your heightened state. One more for good measure pulsed into your swollen belly before the vines receded, and the bindings on your arms and legs withered and died. Gloriously spent, you laid on the ground in a pool of nectar and juices, weakly tugging the vine from your mouth so you could gasp for air. With shaking arms you tried to pry yourself free of the dried tendrils, but the nectar that still filled you felt so good that you almost didn’t want to move, lest it drain out.

The first thing you noticed when the effects began to fade was how much the skin on your abdomen hurt, it felt tight, and you weakly brought a hand up to feel it. Maker above! Your belly was full, and you poked at your protruding middle, feeling the pods inside you slosh around in the devious nectar. Warm goo poured out between your legs, making your eyes roll back from the heat. Through your cloudy mind you thought you heard something, something far away that sounded like shouting. The shouts got closer, and you could almost swear it sounded like your name. Maybe it was.

“Tra’laar!” That was definitely your name, though it sounded distant and fuzzy. You tried to call out to the voice, only to cough up more of the sweet syrup that lined your throat. The taste of it was still as delicious as it had been from the beginning, and another blaze of heat coasted down your spine and made your guts clench and your belly jiggle. Licking your lips you called again, this time with enough force to actually make noise, and the sound of corals being torn apart as something barreled through the reef towards you made itself known.

“Tra-” Mando skittered to a halt somewhere beside you, the sound of your gifted name snagging in his mouth. There you were on the cavern floor, covered in dead vines and some kind of goo, but the most distressing sight of all was your sudden pregnancy. Cautiously he approached you and started untangling your arms and legs, trying to clear the offending tentacles away. He kneeled beside you, his armored hands hovering over your rounded shape. “Riduur’ika? Wh- what happened to you?!” His voice was shaking, barely a whisper coming through his modulator.

“Heeeyyy~” You purred, still buzzed on the herbal wine that had soaked every nerve in your body. “Babe… I think… um. I think there’s something… i-inside… me?”

“Well I can see that!” There was some kind of tone to his voice, wedged somewhere between anger and fear and maybe just a sprinkle of desire. “What did this to you?!”

“I dunno... that wiggly thingie got all up in my bisnatch.” You rubbed at your eyes, trying to get some clarity while your armored companion stressed himself to a frenzy. Mama-hen Mando’s fretting started to make you giggle, and the jostling of your laughs had your tummy jiggling with its fullness. Above you your oathsworn was horrified, but all you could see was his silly visor and his twitchy hands. “Prob’bly need to do something about it, don’t we?”

“Fucking hell, cyare! Yes we need to get whatever that is out of you!” He sounded really upset now, panicked even, and you shook your head trying to shake the daze. You started to sit up, but the weight of your womb made it a struggle. “Hey take it easy! Here, let me help you.” His protector instincts kicked in, and he was wrapping himself up around you to raise you to a seated position. You couldn’t help the way you rubbed at your tummy, still riding the high of the juice that coated your cunt and thighs and stuck to the back of your throat. I wonder if I can bottle this up and sell it.

A soft leather hand placed itself on your swell, moving over your taut skin with a featherlight touch. “This isn’t right,” you heard him say, “I should be the one filling your belly, not some fucking vegetable!”

Stupid chuckles burst out your mouth and made you snort, “Pfft… babe are you jealous some fruit by the foot knocked your girl up?”

“Damn it all yes I’m jealous! Of course I am, I'm your husband! And why aren’t you more upset? You almost look like you’re enjoying this!” You ignored him to swipe a finger through the goop on your leg and bring it up to your lips, slurping noisily at the colorful syrup.

“It’s this stuff, it’s tasty! You should try it!” The snap of his visor told you he wasn’t going to indulge you, but his gentle touch was pressing carefully under the drop of your belly, and you could see him watching the way it wiggled. “Bah, you like this don’t you? Don’t lie to me, bucketboy.”

“No!... Well… maybe a little.” He shook his head, trying not to be disoriented by the same daze you were. “We’re getting this out of you right now! Can you sit up? Get on your knees?” He guided you up off your butt and onto your haunches, the weight of your middle lurching forward from the motion, swaying under you. “Stars above, mesh’la, I-I don’t know how to f-feel about this…” He trailed off, torn between seeing you swollen full and knowing damn well whatever it was could probably kill you. “You’re beautiful…”

“Ha, I knew you liked this, now c’mon and get this fucker out of me, yeah?” How the actual fuck were you supposed to do that? Your partner pulled his gloves off and went for the obvious route, sliding his long, calloused fingers up inside your sopping cunt with a curse. Three of his devious digits went up without a hitch in your overstretched state, teasing around to get a feel of you.

“I didn’t know you stretched this wide, cyare, does… does this feel good?”

You shot him a sideways glare, letting your lips turn up in a mischievous sneer. “Ye-yeah, feels amazing.” the ambrosia was still making you sex crazed, and even with your legs covered in your own arousal you could tell there was still more to give. “Din..?”

“I’m right here, buir’ika, I’ve got you.” He scootched back behind you, wrapping one arm in between your breasts and your belly to hold you in place while he hunted through your slick folds. Din had become an expert at finding that naughty patch of nerves behind your clit that had your muscles tightening around his strong hands in seconds, and you let him work your ecstasy right back up. “That’s it, mesh’la, fucking stars I can feel you, you’re close! Come for me, that’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He pressed his helmeted head against your own, burying the sharp edge of the beskar in the meat of your shoulder while you tightened around him. His other arm pressed down on your swell, and the force of your orgasm squeezed something out of your belly and through your channel, rubbing deliciously against your walls as it passed into his waiting hand.

The seed pod that practically popped out of you was a dark purple egg-shaped thing with swirls of green and blue, matching the description of the bounty puck to a tee. Mando brought the thing around for you to see, rubbing at your side encouragingly. It shimmered in the eerie light of the cavern only briefly before it withered in his hand and flaked away on the volcanic breeze. Gone.

“Um, Mando…” You whispered, feeling a weird mix of arousal and fear ooze down your thoat with the unicorn slime, “I think if we’re gonna get them back to the ship, I think they have to, um, fuck... stay…

“Absolutely not! What if they poison you? What if they break open or s-something and kill you?”

“But the bounty-”

“Fuck the bounty!” He roared, “Fuck everything! I can’t lose you, cyare! I… I won’t, especially for a handful of credits.” The desperation that clawed at his voice stung your heart, but you were determined not to fail in your mission, no matter how creepy it was.

“Din,” you hummed, trying to calm him down, “I’m ok, really! Maybe a little mess- Oh~!” The Mandalorian’s fingers slid right back up your weeping cunt, fucking into you mercilously. His rough fingers slid easily through the slick, and he made up for the lack of friction with sheer determination. “Ah! Ah Din! Din yes! Oh yes!!!” High as a kite you went, coming all over his persistent thrusts. His grip tightened on your middle, and another pod escaped your womb.

“I told you to stop trying to fight me.” Oh fuck he’s using that voice! Dark and husky right in your ear, searing electricity over your flesh and blowing up your ovaries. The voice of a hunter, the voice of an alpha, whether he knew it or not. The timbre of it vibrated so low and strong you couldn’t help but whine against the beskar pressed to your face. “You’re going to stop arguing and you’re going to be a good girl and let me fuck you empty so I can fill you right back up. You’re mine, MY riduur, and the only thing that should be inside you is me!” His command flooded with raw power, and you blasted out another pod or two at his words alone.

You were gone, soaked to the core with desire until all you could do was moan into the armor that held you steady. Bonelessly you gave him everything you had, drenching his arms and knees with your holographic slick. Determined as ever, your armored protector pumped into you, cupping your whole pussy in his palm while he stuffed you with his fingers. When you’d rocketed the fifth seed out, you nearly fainted in his arms, drained of all your energy. Your mind was fuzzy, but you could almost pick up the sound of a question making its way over the roaring blood in your ears. “Huh?”

“How many more?” You shook your head, and a furious growl reverberated against your skull. His soaked hand slid out of you and shook itself somewhere nearby, sending melted rainbow goo flying. When the arm coiled around your belly left you, you nearly toppled, but he caught you swiftly. “Drink.” Metal was pressed to your lips, and the broth you had abandoned earlier graced your syrup-coated throat. You’d never been so thirsty, chugging it down until you were coughing, and the hand that held you reached up to cup your jaw, imploring you to swallow.

When the thermos left your lips, you leaned back against your heavily armored partner, letting his beskar hold you up. You were tired of the appetizer that was his fingers, and your swollen belly hungered for the real deal. You needed him. “Dindin… please… please I want your cock!” The body behind you couldn’t go any stiffer, and you felt his clothed erection rub against the curve of your ass. “I know you’re hard, fuck me, please?”

“Not til you’ve done as you're told.” His rasping voice was edged with heavy breaths, whether from the effort of claiming your clutch or trying not to cum in his pants you couldn’t be sure, but it sounded fucking hot as hell either way. Plated arms wrapped around you again, and you were pulled backwards into his lap with your knees thrown over his legs. He prodded your belly, trying to get a count of how many more orgasms he was going to give you. “Four… maybe five…”

Din went for your clit, spinning tight, vicious circles around the engorged nub and making you scream. “D-D-Din!!! Oh yeees! F-fuck me! Please p-please I-I want you in me!” He only hummed against you, rubbing his groin up against your ass to tease you while you came again. He stuffed an ungloved hand up your shirt to find your breasts, tugging and pinching at the sensitive buds until he could feel you shaking in his grasp and pleading for his thick, girthy cock to plow into you and scramble your guts even more than they already were.

For you he was taking charge of the situation, being the anchor you needed to get through this, but behind his faceless armor he was trying not to lose his goddamn mind at the sight of you. Where you sat on him he could grind himself against your soft thighs, and even through the layers of duraweave he could easily imagine himself sliding his length through your slick heat, drenching himself in your cum. Filling that belly. “Come for me again, cyar’ika.” He had to distract himself from his perverted thoughts, though that was becoming an impossible chore. Here you were in his arms, looking like some kind of glowing goddess with your womb as heavy as it was, and he cursed the Universe for giving him exactly what he’d wished for.

Damnation flowed through his modulator at the sound of your begging. “Is that right, cyare? You want me to stuff my cock in this soaked pussy of yours? You’re gonna have to earn it.” He was conflicted about talking to you in such a way, but something about the way he was speaking to you made your muscles clench around his fingers while you moaned against his armor. “You like it when I f-fuck you like this? I know you love these hands, cyar’ika, but if you want me to give you my cock you’re gonna have to come! Come so I can fuck that beatiful belly of yours full!”

Maybe he was talking to himself more than you, but you whined in his arms nonetheless as your walls squeezed and flooded. Another hot wave of slick coated his wrist, and he tossed the seedpod away, diving right back in for the next. His strong palm kneaded at your tummy, taking another count, two, maybe three more. He knew he should still be worried, terrified even, but damn it if he wasn’t harder than beskar. His cock was straining against the inside of his pant leg, desperate to grant his own desires.

“D-Din… w-wait…” He almost didn’t hear you, the thunder of his heartbeat roaring as loud as it was in his helmet, but your wobby arm came back around and patted his leg. “Th-thermos…” The canister was at your lips in a heartbeat, but you pushed it away. “C… Catch…”

Oh! The broth was poured out into the massive puddle under you, whatever, might as well add soup to the mix. He prodded your guts once more, palpating the hard lumps that still sat inside you, two left? “Cyare, that’s it, almost done. Come on, come all over my fucking fingers so I can b-bury my cock in you where it belongs!” You cried into the armor, heat searing from where he was pressed against you to your fluttering muscles to bare down on his fingers with your impending final climax. Dark, sultry praises rasped out of his modulator, so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. “That’s it, ner riduur, one more and you can have my cock. One more and I'll stuff you with my own seed. You want that? Come for me so I can fill you up and breed you like I know you want me to!”

You nodded against him, making some kind of affirmation noise, but the last pod would be the toughest to pull, and he need to make you cum your fucking brains out if he was going to get it. He stopped his thrusts to tease at your stretched walls, rubbing his calloused fingertips against your slicked core. “What was that, riddur’ika? I can’t hear you.”

“Y-yes Din, please…” You were breathless, your words dryer than a desert as they scratched their way past your chapped lips. He laughed darkly against you, reminding you that you should probably stop teaching him new tricks.

“Yes what?”

“Breed me! Din please you big fucking jerk pump me full! I wanna be full of you!”

The cold metal of the thermos was pressed to your folds, making you cry out from the sting of it, but a hot fingertip groped at your clit, spinning one last mindblowing orgasm out of you that nearly rendered you unconscious. The metallic plonk that came from between your legs told you the pod had been captured, hopefully with enough of the nectar to keep it from drying out. Hunting is stupid. Din’s dry hand dug into the flesh of your stomach, searching for any more of the bullshit you had been filled with.

“There. Are you ok, cyar’ika?” Something like a nod wobbled your head, though the darkness coming in around the edges of your eyes told you that might be a lie. “You did so well! It’s all over now, let’s get you back up to the- cyar’ika stay with me!” Limply you laid against him, ignoring his exhausted pleas to slump against the rock hard tent pushing against your ass, trying to get him to make good on his word. You’d never been so spent in your life, as if you’d squirted out your very soul. Blinking your eyes open, you hazily saw the tilted visor of your oathsworn and shot him a lecherous grin.

“You gonna fuck me now like you said you would?”

Mando was rarely as grateful for his armor as he was right now, the cold, emotionless beskar hiding his sweat soaked face and lust-drunk eyes. The way you were watching his visor made him think you could hear the cogwheels in his head spinning out of control. Yes, yes a thousand times yes! Beautiful creature of the stars, more wondrous than any constellation. Her cunt is so perfect, so warm and wet and beautiful and literally gushing with her arousal, just begging for me to fill it. To fill her, Her womb is open, ready and waiting for my seed to be planted, a fertile haven for my younglings. They’ll be so strong, born with daggers in their teeth and songs in their hearts. I want to see her filled. I need to!

“No.” His reply barked dryly through his modulator, chewing on the sound of his denial. “We need to get out of here right now in case that fucking thing decides it wants to go for round two.” The arms that held you together wrapped around your back and under your knees, lifting you gently away from the mess. Weakly you held onto his neck, barely aware of the reef as it passed you by. Staring up at him through tired, tear-washed lashes you were filled with warmth, though not the heat you had felt from the hydra’s nectar. Better than that. Still, though the pleasant sensation was thrumming in your heart and your cunt, you were a bit peeved that he wasn’t going to give you what you’d begged for.

“You suck”

“I know.” The back of his mind roared with desire from hearing you literally beg for him to fuck you full, making his cock throb painfully against his duraweave. Keep it together, Djarin. Stars above he didn’t want to, he wanted to make good on the filthy promises he had poured over you, but there was no telling what else was lurking in the reef. He had to get you to safety, get you to the ship, and maybe then he could indulge himself. Mark you as his territory from the inside. Shaky fingers dug up under the edge of his helmet, and the feel of your skin against his face made him halt. “What is it, ner cyare’se?”

“You’re… you’re a good man. And a good dad.” The Mandalorian froze solid at that one, cocking his visor at you sharply. A new pull made itself known in his chest, something tugging on his heartstrings. Your eyes were closed, having long since given up the ghost as you started to fade away, and it took massive effort for you to drag them back open to see him. “Even if you do fucking suck s’metimes. You take good care’a me, ‘n Beans too, we’re v’ry lucky to have you.” Your words slurred, and you tried to lick your lips to get them to cooperate, but only found more of the ambrosia stuck to your face. You wouldn’t be cognizant much longer. “Thank you, Din.”

His name being spoken by you was more addictive than any spice, and paired with the praise you were whispering against his metal he nearly melted right down to the ground with you. That was all he ever wanted to be. A good man, a good husband, a good buir. Honeyglow flooded his bones, soft and warm and gentle, the polar opposite of the beskar he was covered in. He felt you curl a lock of his hair around in your fingers, the gentle tug on his scalp making him rumble. The life of a hunter was fucked up, to be sure, but as long as he had you and his son, it was bearable.

You kissed at the chest plate you were pressed to, the one that hid the embodiment of your vows safely next to his heart. He pressed his helmet to your brow, and the way you hummed against him in his arms made him want to run back to the Crest where you could have some privacy and peel his armor away, give you what you had so desperately begged him for. Maybe it was the way you were laying so limply against his cuirass, but you seemed so small to him in that moment, like without him wrapped around your body you would dissipate on the volcanic breeze like the pods had. Protect her.

“You’re… welcome.”

Your fucked-out face nuzzled against him, and he couldn’t help but hug you even tighter, making the scent of you coast up under the edge of his armor. It was different, fragrant and succulent though it was probably the juice that still clung to your legs and face. The scent of you was still there, just enhanced by the aroma, made stronger. He took a deep breath of you before continuing through the reef, almost tripping over a low coral when he wavered. Wavered? Why am I wavering?

The sound of a deep, indulgent inhale caught your ears, and you flickered an eye open to see him burrowing the front of his helmet in the fabric covering your breasts. Against you his chest ballooned fully, holding the scent of you in his lungs until it stuttered through his modulator with a curse. You giggled weakly, “Smells good, don’t it?” A low grumble made the plates against you vibrate, telling you the siren scent of the anemone was seeping into his brain. “If you think it smells good you should see how good it tastes! Try some n’ then get’cher self some sloppy seconds, I know you wanna~”

“No! The last thing we need is for me to get caught up in whatever the hell pumped you full of… quarries.” The imagery of that made you chuckle, silly, stupid laughs that bounced off his armor. He was practically jogging now, though you could feel him stumble through the stoney gravel every once in a while as the perfume of the anemone grove started to sink into his synapses. “We’re almost out of here, just a little further…”

“Bah, alright party pooper. I’ll getcha when we get back aboard.”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

You curled against him, feeling his arms go somehow even tighter. The living fortress that was your Mandalorian carried you with declining ease through the reef, and you could tell from the engine purring away under his armor that he was not nearly as composed as he sounded. One more poke, for good measure. “I love you, Din.”

“And I you, cyare.” His response came out a little cold, but only because he was desperately trying not to melt away into the same puddle of goo you had been turned into. Again you whispered his name, gliding through his ears like a song, and his heart ached to kiss you, to taste the flesh that hugged his Creed-sworn secret so well. He hadn’t heard it in so long before you came, and though his old alor knew it, it was forbidden, meaningless. But coming from you it was powerful, strong enough to bring him to his knees if they weren’t so busy wading through hell and highwater.

Vaguely you were aware of your egress, though most of it flickered in and out of your lust-lost mind. The warmth of the cavern fell away to be replaced with the cold, rushing air of the tunnel as you rocketed back up to the basin. Maybe you were dreaming of the sound of boots crunching through snow, or the soft gibbering of the founding, you couldn’t be sure, but it was pleasant nonetheless. You heard words being spoken from time to time as well, all of them muddied and faint. Maybe they were Basic, maybe Mando’a, but all of them sounded like they cared. Like every syllable and intonation humming through the iron on your cheek was spoken for you alone.

Your Mandalorian carried you diligently back to your broken chariot, trying his best to make small talk with the foundling as he floated along behind. The child seemed worried at the state of his adopted parents, And Din rattled off every reassurance that he could think of, but his legs were starting to weaken from the scent of the nectar so close to his helmet. He marched on through the glacial basin almost on autopilot until the Razor came into view. Warm air sent flurries of snow around him and his crew as the ramp fell open, and blearily he made his way inside.

He had to do something about the state of the two of you, but his knees locked and froze him to the spot, demanding he take a moment to breathe. There it was again, the fruity, summery scent of you that made his dick throb. Damn it all. Shaky steps hauled him through the cabin, and he laid you down on the little cot you both shared. He needed to get your soaked clothes off, but in order to do that he would have to get out of his own armor first. He shrugged off the helmet, though the metal had been protecting him from the temptation of you more than he realized, and the heat that gooped its way through his body from the pungency of your scent nearly threw him to the floor.

Din punched the buttons on his vambrace, closing up the foundling for the night whether he was ready for bed or not. Sorry kid. He peeled his armor away, setting the beskar aside and tossing the soaked fabric into the fresher. Next came your own clothes, and at first he worried he might wake you. Stars knew you needed the rest, but you made no indication that you even knew he was there.

Your limbs flopped like jelly while he tore off your clothes to be chucked into the fresher along with his until you were beautifully naked. Spread like a feast before him on the narrow bed, he couldn’t help but lick his lips. Little shimmers here and there told him that you were still coated in the hydra’s goo, and his first thought was to grab a washcloth to clean you up, but you stretched your lovely arms and made the splashes of color dance like melted candy on your skin, making his mouth water at the sight and giving him a much better idea. Maybe just… just a taste.

~

The faint whirring of the Crests innards caught your attention, and you came back to consciousness with agonizing slowness. You were laying on your bedroll, tucked safely away in the durasteel depths of your ship, though you weren’t sure if it was dark or if you still had your eyes closed. Warm fog settled in your head and wafted through your bones, a mindless comfort that left you blissfully numb. It could have been whatever the hydra had left in you, or more likely, it was whatever activity was going on below your waist. Your breath hitched in your throat, surprising you, but not as surprising as the stars that flashed behind your eyes. “Ah~!”

From between your legs a lusty groan shot right up your cunt and made you fist your hands in the plush fabric underneath you while you came. How is there anything left!? A broad tongue lapped at your clit, slurping away at the remnants of the nectar that coated your folds. The smooth muscle dragged itself through your slit, drinking in everything you were giving before sliding right back to that sensitive little bud to tease circles around it.

“Mesh’la.. I’m.. I’m sorry, I c-couldn’t help it, you taste so good~” The Mandalorian’s baritone rocked you to your core, and another flick of his tongue had you coming all over his face again. “P-please… forgive me.”

“F-f-forgive? Bahh… I told ya it was good, now get lickin’, bucket boy.” You tangled a hand in his curls, pushing him back down to enjoy his just desserts. His tongue fucked into you with reckless abandon, hungry and desperate for the taste of you. He dug his arms under your thighs and forced your mound as tightly up against his face as he could, and you heard him gasp for air between gulps. Exhaustion and pleasure tugged your eyes back closed, and you teetered in and out of consciousness, being brought back to the realm of the living with each fresh wave of ecstasy. Something rhythmic moved against your leg, the muscles in his shoulder thrumming away at something well out of sight. Is he jerking off?

In his hand he was going to town on his aching shaft, using the glittering goo that still flowed readily from your gloriously wet pussy to coat himself in. The coral’s effect had been burrowing into his brain stem from the moment he could smell it, calling to him like some kind of siren; but finally getting to taste it was an otherworldly experience. You had been through enough for one hunt, and though he craved release like a sex crazed animal he would happily content himself with just getting a taste of the ambrosial sweetness while you relaxed.

It hadn’t taken him long to coax the rainbow juices from your stretched folds, and even less time to slick himself with it. For a brief moment he thought he would just lap enough from your wellspring to get himself off, but soon he found himself unable to tear his face away from your delicious cunt, slurping away at the honeyed slick until he was nearly drowning in it. He dragged the colorful fluid around the tip of his cock, almost creaming himself right then and there with the warm tingly sensation that dribbled down his length.

Stars above you were juicy, wet and engorged against his frenzied tongue, though the rest of your body was boneless against him. He didn’t mind holding your legs up on his shoulders while he lovingly cleaned the nectar from the core of your body, in fact he was delighted to be of service. Lost in his indulgences he almost didn’t feel you tug on his hair, bringing his eyes up to meet your own.

“You… you can… in me… please... “ Nothing remained of your shattered mind, but you almost felt bad that he was trying to take care of himself when you were right there, ready and waiting. He shook his head against your leaking slit, dragging himself up for air to answer you, making the hazy emergency lights of the cabin sparkle in the wetness that covered his mouth and chin.

“I shouldn’t, you need to… to rest… ”

“Should’a thought about that before you started tonguin' me. Now get up here and fuck me like you said you would!”

You were starting to wonder if he liked being bossed around, because he growled against your core and yanked you back towards him, burying himself balls deep in one swift thrust. His wet mouth crashed against your own, giving you a taste of your own medicine. Fuck he wasn’t kidding, that’s delcious! He thrust into you with ragged strokes, messy and out of time. Muscular arms wrapped around your body, flooding your senses with the combined scent of him and the intoxicating perfume of the sunken grove.

Din hugged you close to his sweaty chest, digging fingers into the back of your head and the swell of your ass so he could rocket into your wonderous coils, punching the blunt tip of his cock against your tired cervix. His kisses were frantic but messy, all tongue and teeth and heated breaths as if you could do any better. You were almost surprised that you could feel him as stretched out as you were, but the spear of a Mandalorian was nothing to be scoffed at. The girthy thing rutted against your walls, bottoming out with every desperate thrust.

“Not… gonna… last… much... “ He choked on his own words, making a half dozen more ragged thrusts before blasting you full of his cum, painting your walls with his seed. The ring of muscle fluttered against his weeping tip, almost like a tongue that was greedily sucking his cum into your depths. That’s the only seeds she should be filled with, he thought blearily, my seed. His hips twitched against you, giving a few more staggered thrusts to milk himself to completion in your forgiving heat.

Din was panting, driven nearly to exhaustion by the effort of making good on his promises to fuck you senseless. Under him your own breath was stuttered, your chest crushed by his weight. He coiled his arms around you and rolled you both sideways, using the last of his strength to tuck you up under his arm and lay your head on his chest. You murmured something fondly against him as he lazily threaded his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face as best he could, but the soft breathing against his skin told him you probably didn’t notice. Soft kisses danced over your face, more for his enjoyment than your own, a fact made apparent by the cutest little snore in his ears. Sleep well, my love. And thank you. For everything.

He could lay there forever, with the weight of you on his chest and the hot slick sliding down his thighs, if he died right then and there he would die a very happy man. His fingers tried valiantly to run themselves down the curve of your spine, but there was no energy left in his body to power them, and he let them rest in the dip of your hips. Your breaths came slowly, a gentle rise and fall that heated his skin where you were pressed tightly against the crook of his neck. Din kissed your forehead again before tangling his limbs around you and burying his nose in your hair. Tomorrow we can get the exterior fixed, the inside is warm enough for now.

A gentle smile tugged at the edges of his lips, making his whiskers catch your hair. And maybe if it’s too cold for the foundling, she’ll keep him in her shirt again. Din couldn’t help but hum at the thought, you all cute and round, even if it was only temporary. By marriage you were a buir to his foundling, as truly as you would be if you had sworn the Creed, but the thought of you carrying his own flesh-and-blood ad’ika was the guiltiest pleasure he could imagine. Now that he knew what you would look like all full and heavy he could more easily indulge those devious thoughts. It was probably wrong to recall the image of you laying on that vibrant nest of tentacles, glowing and radiant and full. And in need. Needing me to care for her.

He wouldn’t admit it, and he knew you were tough enough to take care of yourself as long as you didn’t go sliding down any mysterious chasms, but he loved being needed by you. He loved that the name you had screamed for in that sunken grove was his, that you needed him to rescue you, needed him to pull the pods from your belly. Needed him to breed you. He could hear you in his mind again, you desperately begging him to fill your womb with his warriors, but you had only done so while drunk on the hydra’s wine. Was there any truth to it? Probably not, he’d practically demanded that you beg for it.

But what if there was?

Tired fingers pulled you impossibly closer to him, as if to invite you to sleep in his ribcage, curled up next to his heart. You grumbled in your sleep, murmuring something about tater tots before letting loose a beastly snore. The Mandalorian rolled his eyes, that’s her, that’s my mesh’la, my cyare, my riduur.

And maybe, when the time is right, when the bounties have been collected and the universe doesn’t seem so hostile. Maybe when we find another convert, or even just start one of our own. Someday, maybe...

Maybe I can call her my buir’ika as well.

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[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.08

11/07/2020

The Warriors Three

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,298

Warnings: talks of pregnancy, sex, smut, very slight angst, jealousy

A/N: Enjoy! Not much to say about this one except that I’m setting things up! Get read for the roller coaster y’all! As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me sprad my work! xoxo

Tuesday morning you open your eyes and catch Thor watching you sleep.

You stare right back at him, eyes searching his pleasant smile. What is he thinking that’s making him give you such a sappy look? Not that you mind it. You’re a little seduced by it. Emotionally seduced.

Fucker’s got you wrapped around his little finger.

His smile grows wider, almost as if he can read your mind.

“Were you watching me sleep?” You wonder, a whisper so quiet you’re not sure he can hear it.

“Yes.” Thor admits, supporting his head with his hand, elbow buried in his pillow.

“Was I snoring?”

“Yep.” Thor chuckles. “You most certainly were.”

Groaning, you reach down to yank the blanket up over you. It gives you a peek at his glorious naked body lying beside you as it drifts up and falls slowly back over you.

Your mind is attacked with images, memories of last night’s needy bout of lovemaking. Thor had been hungry for it. For you. For his promise to fill you up and get you knocked up with his babies.

The very idea of you pregnant with his heir had him so excited he’d accidentally bitten a little too hard a time or two, then apologized by kissing the assaulted spots until you were trembling and quaking beneath him.

He’d kissed every inch of your body and taken you up and down the room, devouring you in every way he could.

The bed had been the most visited spot, but his desk is still a mess. One of the long flowing curtains that lines the wall of windows is torn and abandoned on the floor.

He pushes you against the wall, as flowing yet slightly scratchy fabric slides across your naked back, you realize he’s got you pinned to the wall of windows.

It’s taking your mind and body a second to catch up to what the other is doing or feeling. It’s been a night of ecstasy. Of orgasms and sweet kisses and the hope that this will last forever. That this isn’t just sex. That maybe it started out as just that but now that your futures are so set in stone, that Thor is committing to this just as much as you are.

He’s invested. He has to be.

Your mind suddenly realizes that even if this floor is high up, the palace tall and looming, someone might be looking up. Someone might be hoping for a chance to get a look at Thor, King of New Asgard, God of Thunder. Instead, they’ll get a full moon. Your ass plastered against the glass.

You twist in his grip, turning to look out and see the distant ocean, black and endless. Thor kisses your neck, his hands reaching down between your legs to pull another whimper.

You’re slick and slippery in his hands. Your knees go weak, and you fall forward. You brace yourself on the window and your eyes are brought to the flickering lights of a house close to the palace walls.

Palace staff probably. Maybe even Estrid’s home? She’ll have a nice view of your tits at this angle.

“Mmmf, Thor…” You gasp, pushing back against him, suddenly embarrassed.

He eases up, giving you space. It’s enough that you slip out from between him and the window. You turn and scamper towards the bed. You jump on it, pulling the sheets up around your body to cover yourself in a delayed attempt at modesty.

As you look at your future husband, you can’t help but laugh. It’s a burst of sound, a hiccup of amusement as you watch him struggle against the curtain. It’s tangled around his left arm and hips. Wrapped around one leg as he steps on the end with the other.

He’s gotten himself all covered in it when he’d suddenly thrown himself around to follow your escape.

“Looks like I’ve caught you, God of Thunder.” You tease, and chuckle again.

Thor’s brow furrows, a deep guttural growl ripping through his throat as he simply walks forward. A simple flick of his wrist across his body where the curtain is wrapped tears it and he’s tackling you onto his mattress before you can understand what’s happened.

You give one small yelp before his lips are pressed to yours and with his kiss, he takes all your shyness.

“Hey,” He begins, gripping the edge of the sheet and he pulls it down until he can see your eyes. “Don’t hide from me so early in the morning.”

He pouts, folding the sheet up just above your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and then leaning down to kiss your clavicle.

You shut your eyes, relishing in the feeling.

“I love the way you kiss me.” You tell him, suddenly feeling bold.

Probably because it’s early and your body is still reeling from last night.

“Is that so?” Thor asks, laying down properly with his arms still around you.

His eye is trained on yours, searching them for proof that you’re lying.

“Yes.” You nod, reaching over to caress his bearded cheek, turning onto your side to look at him better. “I love your kisses and your touch. I love your voice and the way you laugh.”

Thor’s cheeks are suddenly bright red, barely hidden by his golden scruffy beard. He hasn’t trimmed it in a few days. It’s getting thicker.

“That’s a lot of things to love, cherub. One might think you’re falling for me.” It’s a tease, but hopeful.

The way his voice leaves it open for you to respond to despite being a statement makes your heart pound. You scoot closer, moving until your nose tip is touching his.

You shut your eyes because admitting this face to face is hard. If only because you don’t want to remember saying it and then regretting it later if he should ever hurt you. Because with this arrangement the two of you have made, this marriage? How can you not get hurt at some point?

“I am falling for you, Thor. I’ve already fallen for you.” You whisper that last bit, afraid to speak it too loud. What if someone else hears you say it?

He doesn’t say anything and for several really long seconds, you just wait.

Unable to take it anymore, you open your eyes and find him staring at you still, his brow scrunched, a little pucker between his eyes.

The look is intense, but mostly vulnerable. He looks almost insecure, which is stupid because he’s Thor! How can he look the way you feel?

“What? What did I say?”

Thor gives his head one shake, then he rolls you over, laying over you as his hands push the hair at your temples back, loving your face the way he’s been doing all night.

“How is it that I’ve always needed you and never knew it? How is it that I’ve been searching for you my whole life, and only now just realize it’s you I was searching for?” Thor sighs, shaking his head in disbelief.

You take a deep shaky breath, inhaling until your lungs give up. When you exhale, your voice is surprisingly relaxed, a playful tone in comparison to the intensity of these confessions.

“You’re such a sap.” Voice at a decent volume with a bit of exasperation thrown in.

Thor buries his face against your chest and his body begins to shake with laughter.

You laugh with him, bringing your hands to the back of his head to stroke his messy short hair. You absolutely love the way it sticks at odd angles when he wakes up in the morning.

“You’re making it awfully easy for me to love you, cherub.”

There’s that word again. And it steals your breath just as much as the first time he’d said it, though before, it hadn’t been so straight forward.

“You’ve known me for less than a week, Thor.” You’re absolutely stunned.

You’ve heard of whirlwind romances, but never in true life. None that ended well.

“I know.” Thor sighs, laying on you more snugly. “And I know that it makes no sense, but when you told my friends at dinner that it was inevitable for you to fall for me, I had no idea that the possibility of being with you and knowing that you could love me would make me so happy.

“So, I made up my mind to try. Just as I told you. And then those kisses in your room…”

He drifts off, thinking back to those first liplocks when the two of you had been surprised by the chemistry that had suddenly shot off between you.

“I know.” You nod, bringing your hands down to rest along the sides of his neck. “I felt it too.”

Given that it was your first few kisses ever, even you’d felt something click beyond the initial pleasure they gave you.

“And you’ve been so open, so understanding. Jealous a bit—which I like, to be honest. Probably shouldn’t.” Thor admits, and you think you know what he means.

It’s nice to feel like you’re wanted, so long as it doesn’t smother and hurt.

You smile, despite the anxiety of the moment.

“You’re much more than I ever hoped you’d be, cherub. Much more.” He sighs, placing his index finger on your temple and running it down to your chin. “I’m starting to love you. And I’m certain that with time, that will only grow.”

“Thor…” You’re apprehensive about taking him at his word, fearful that you’ll wake up and it’ll have all been a dream.

“Why don’t you believe me?” He asks, exasperated as he grabs you and rolls over onto his back.

You land on top of him, your legs automatically straddling his hips, hands pushing against his chest to sit up.

“You just broke up with Jane, Thor. A woman who you’d wanted me to pretend you weren’t going to be having an affair with if we got married.” You remind him, and he screws up his face.

A knowing grimace as your anxious timidity makes an appearance again.

“I-I know that I made a mistake.” He nods, hands finding your hips to give them a firm squeeze. “I never should have asked you to do something so deceitful. It was heartless of me. I’m sorry.”

He means it, and his sincerity brings your body down further, hands placed on his bearded cheeks again.

“I don’t make excuses for myself. The only thing I can say is that I wanted Jane and I to work. I have loved her for a long time. For humans.” He clarifies, “And if there was a chance to make us work, I wanted to be certain that I tried. I didn’t want it to end without me having given it a good try.

“But Jane and I have been over for almost half a year. Her true love will always be her work. As admirable as that is, I’ve known that I would need a wife who could give not only myself, but the people of Asgard her full heart.

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t know that your work as a writer is important. I will give you time and space to do what you love. Because I want you to be happy here, cherub. I want you to love living here with me and our people. I want you to love being here. I want you to love me.”

His voice suddenly cuts off, slightly surprised at the honesty of that last sentence.

You’re not. In fact, you know exactly how he feels. You hadn’t expected him to feel it or be the one to say it out loud. You’re so glad he did though, and you lay over him, holding his face still as you press your lips to his softly.

He shuts his eye, kissing you back as his hands find your waist to take firm, possessive handfuls.

When you pull back, he follows you up a little, stretching his neck until you’re sitting too far up to reach, and he falls back onto his pillow.

“I already do, Thor.” You shrug one shoulder, giving into what’s been growing since the moment you met him, and he made you picture both of you together. “I think I’ve loved you since you downed an entire stein of ale and then went for a refill.”

Thor’s smile is small at first but grows as you wait for him to respond.

“I won’t waste it.” He gushes, sitting up and taking you with him, wrapping one arm around your waist, the other holding the back of your neck. “I won’t waste your love.”

He’s so determined, how can you not believe him?

“Promise?” You whisper, licking your lips.

“I swear it.” He replies, pulling you towards him to kiss you softly.

Wet lips lap over yours, massaging softly before you slide your tongue into his mouth, and he groans against you.

You slide one hand down between your bodies, searching until you take hold of his cock and lead him in.

He goes rigid beneath you, body tight as his hands squeeze you hard as you sink down onto him.

He grunts, reaching down to grab a handful of your bottom as you lift yourself up and drop down again slowly.

“You said you wanted a baby.” You remind him, voice nothing but air as he stretches you and hits a delicious spot inside you that makes your hips twitch. “Let’s make a baby.”

That guttural growl from last night rips through Thor’s throat again, and he flips you, tossing you onto your back never once slipping out of you as he rails you into the mattress.

~~~~~~~~~~

It shows up in ways you don’t expect it to.

Quick peeks from across the garden. Sweet smiles over people’s shoulders. A quiet kiss shared before you both leave an empty room.

You and Thor have decided to try and be lukewarm in public. Respectful. Decent.

In private, this morning’s session of lovemaking is a good example of what you two would rather be doing together.

However, since duty calls, you and Thor are currently making your way onto a large stretch of land at the center of New Asgard.

With your arm around his elbow, he waits patiently for you to carefully gather your skirts a little so that you can walk without stomping on the bottom.

It’s a beautiful gown, black with an illusion bodice absolutely covered in beautiful pink, red, white, and orange florals. The same pattern is prevalent throughout the tulle skirt, a thicker cotton skirt underneath keeps you warm. Over the spaghetti strap bodice, you wear a black cloak. It feels more like a cape.

An intentional choice by Thor, it turns out, because you match. Thor in his black Asgardian suit, the same one he wore on the night of your dinner with his closest friends.

The two of you make a lovely pair and the crowd that has gathered around the plot of land you’re on seem to notice and approve.

Some of them wave at you, others simply stare and share excited conversation.

“They’re staring at us.” You smile nervously, waving at a pair of beautiful Asgardian boys no older than ten who wave at you with such enthusiasm, you can’t help yourself.

“They’re staring at you, cherub. You’re the pretty jewel on my arm.” He flatters, and you laugh at him.

“You really don’t like being complimented.” He observes, his eye only for you.

“It’s not that.” You shake your head, meeting his gaze. “I’ve just never been told such…no one’s ever talked to me like that before. It’s super weird.”

“Weird? Then I will have to do it with more frequency.” Thor whispers, leaning in towards you. “And you can’t fight me on it.”

You bite your bottom lip, giving him a quick and private glare.

He chuckles, amused by your reaction.

“Are you warm enough?” He checks, reaching to adjust your cloak.

“Enough.” You nod. “I’d rather be in bed with you, though.”

Thor clears his throat, his hand brushing gently along your bottom.

A mere coincidence that he was adjusting the cloak there when you said that.

“You’re much warmer than this cloak.”

Thor sighs heavily, taking his hand back to scratch at his head.

“Are you trying to torture me?” He wonders, avoiding your gaze and waving at his people.

“No.” You protest. “But you are. It’s a simple fact.”

“You’ve grown increasingly bold in these past few days.” Thor whispers, leaning in towards you to speak quietly.

“Whose fault is that?” You wonder, feeling shy in front of the Asgardians, not so much Thor in this aspect after the way you spent the early morning. “I think I’ve had more sex in two days than most women have in two years.”

After a moment to consider, you smile and meet his eye.

“Can we keep trying for a baby after this? I read somewhere that if you do it on your side, it helps with a girl. Or if we want a boy, you can take me from behind again.”

Thor’s face is crimson as he coughs loudly, choking on his own spit probably since he’d opened his mouth to respond but your question seems to have rendered him speechless.

“Is that a yes?”

Thor takes a minute to catch his breath, clearing his throat before reaching up to pull at the neck of his shirt and armor.

“Vixen.” He accuses. “When I get you back to our room, I’m not letting you out until the morning of our wedding.”

This time, it’s your turn to be speechless. You stare at him, eyes searching, heart pounding, completely emotional. You’re the true sap.

“I’m…Our room?” Had you heard him correctly? “I don’t have to go back to my bedroom?”

“My bedroom is your bedroom. I’m not letting you out of it ever again.” Thor assures you. “I need you there to sleep now, cherub.”

You wrap your arm around his elbow more tightly, tucking yourself in against his side.

“Can I have a kiss?” You ask him, unsure if it’s polite or normal for the two of you to be so affectionate before you’re married or if it’s frowned upon by the Asgardian people.

“Of course, you can, love. You never have to ask.” He leans down as you push yourself up onto your toes, lips puckered and eager.

His kiss is gentle, just as pleasing as ever, but chaste, and innocent.

It’s perfect for what you’re feeling, and you have to pull back first but go in for a second, quicker kiss.

“Well, it looks like you were worried for no reason.” You turn to watch David walking up to you both.

“David!” You gasp, excited at the sight of him. “I thought you’d left back to London.”

You release Thor and hug David, who happily returns the gesture. He pushes you back to get a look at you in your pretty dress, and nods with approval.

“I did but came right back after my meeting. I wanted to make sure the God of Thunder was keeping his word. It appears he’s exceeded it.” David says the tone of approval to accompany the pleased smile on his face. “Might I borrow the future Queen of Asgard, Your Majesty?”

David gestures at your hand around Thor’s arm.

Thor takes your hand and holds it, offering it to David with that lovable goofy smile you’ve become quickly familiar with.

“Of course.”

David takes your hand and gently wraps it around his own suited up elbow. “Thank you.”

Together, you and David walk a few feet away, Thor turning towards the nearest group of Asgardians to greet and mingle.

“It seems things have progressed quickly between you and Thor.” David observes, his voice polite but you can hear the worry.

“We’re already trying for a baby, David.” You confess, stopping and tugging on his arm so that he’ll turn to look at you.

David’s face is full of shock. He blinks, trying to clear his mind or put the words you just said together in different ways until he understands them.

“You’ve slept with him already?” David asks quietly, always the model of good sense.

“It just happened.” You sigh, catching your breath after your impromptu confession. “He kissed me the night of the dinner and then he broke up with Jane and when I went to see him in his room, to show him my wedding dress for approval, he was so open with me about everything and we kissed again. One thing led to another and we just…it felt right, David. I didn’t want it to happen because it had to. Because he had to consummate the marriage?

“I needed to feel control over something.”

David moves a step closer, taking your hand in his two, tapping them to offer comfort.

“We really click, David. Like, in bed? And personally too. We’ve been so…it’s easy with him. To a certain point. I’m not a complete idiot. But I-I’m already loving him. And I think he feels the same. M-Maybe not love, even though he says he does, but he likes me at least. I’m sure.

“He said he wanted to start on our heir. Since we’ll have to do it quickly anyway.” You shrug.

To your surprise, David actually nods. “I think having his child is for the best too.”

You’re about to ask him why, but he explains without you needing to.

“The Ambassadors are eager for your marriage to commence. And I think it’s a good idea to solidify your place in their court with a child.”

Fear and a bit of anger begins to grow in your belly. It fills your chest with worries and the tightness of your anxieties makes it hard to breathe.

“You’re afraid he’ll change his mind?” You realize, so angry at David you almost want to rip your hand out of his grip and march back to Thor’s side…but this is your fear too. Your worry.

“No.” David rushes to reassure you, but the seed—while it had already been planted—has been watered by his warning. “No, I don’t think he will. The way he looked at you just now didn’t look like the expression of a man who is having doubts. In fact, he looks downright smitten.”

This helps you relax a little, or at least cools the rage you feel towards David.

“It’s all just happening so quickly.” David frets.

“It has to happen quickly.” You reason, annoyed but also understanding of his worry.

You’re worried too. After every sweet word, touch, and especially after every moment you spend wrapped in Thor’s arms, coming to pieces beneath him. Feeling him more deeply than you’ve ever felt anyone before. Literally.

You wonder to yourself, if maybe this is all too good to be true.

“You’re not pretending?” David asks, quiet since Loki, Sif, and three men you’ve never seen before make their way towards Thor at the center of the lawn.

“No, David. I’m really not. I like him, so much. I didn’t expect it, but I do. And he seems to like me too.”

“I’ll have to keep an eye on him, to make certain he really returns your feelings.” David smiles. “Would you like me to send for a fertility doctor? Someone who can keep an eye on you to assure that you and Thor are doing everything you can to produce an heir?”

“Yes!” You hug him tight, so pleased that he seems to be on your team.

He laughs in your ear as you hold him, hugging you back gently.

“You’ll wrinkle your pretty gown.” David worries.

“Cherub?” Thor’s voice calls to you and you turn towards him, his hand extended towards you from where he stands with his friends.

All of them in unison, save for Sif who instead looks down at the ground, mouth his pet name for you.

David too.

“Cherub?” He asks, amused.

But you don’t hear him. You move for Thor, taking his hand, then he pulls you against his side, wrapping his arm around your waist.

David moves to stand beside you, but clears his throat to draw everyone’s attention.

“I think I will retire to the palace. If that is alright with you Your Majesty?”

Thor looks to David and offers a quick smile. “Of course. We can offer proper introductions at dinner.”

With a nod, David takes his leave.

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Volstagg, one of my oldest friends and a mighty adventurer in his own right. He also enjoys a good drink and plenty of well-seasoned food.” Thor whispers the second part in your ear, drawing your attention back to the newcomers.

“What’s that you’re saying about me to my future Queen?!” Volstagg demands, but he doesn’t wait for an answer as he reaches to take your hand.

He bows his head, pulls it to his lips, and kisses it chastely.

“Your Highness, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He gushes.

“Nice to meet you.”

“This here is Fandral, another close friend. He-”

“Has conquered many hearts, and had I been here when you came to meet Thor, I may have very well conquered yours, Your Highness.” He smiles at you flirtatiously, his blonde hair falling loosely over his forehead.

He is very handsome, charming. A definite flirt.

He reaches for your hand but before he can take hold of it, Thor grabs it and pulls it against his own chest.

“He’s a flirt.” Thor’s frowning at him, and you can’t help but feel your stomach flip and your heart flutter at his refusal to let Fandral touch you.

“And I am Hogun of Vanaheim. It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I am at your service.” The third of the Warrior’s three is calmer, though you sense a general amusement floating off of him at his companions and their quirks.

“Thank you.” You smile at him, “All of you, for such a warm welcome.”

“We’re very sad to have missed your welcome feast.” Volstagg laments, rubbing his protruding belly.

He’s in his armor which makes his large stature menacing and comforting that his girth will be on your side of any fight.

“You’re just hungry.” Hogun tells him.

“Isn’t he always?” Fandral teases.

“As charming as this impromptu meet-up is, you three have new armor to be measured for, and if you hurry you might just catch the end of the lunch hour back at the palace.” Loki informs them, and like they’ve all been electrocuted, the Warrior’s Three give you a quick bow and shuffle off bickering about some disagreement from before they arrived.

“Brunnhilde, I think maybe you should go with them. Apprise them of the need for their quick return. The sooner they start planning, the better for us all.” Loki looks to Sif, frowning at the way she’s staring at Thor holding your hand to his chest still, cradling it there as if it were something precious. “Sif? I think you should go with her. Rest up. Tomorrow’s wedding will be a long day for us all.”

Sif gives you and Thor a passing look, Loki a quick glare before she turns and marches off after the Warrior’s Three.

Hilde looks after Sif then smiles at Loki before turning her charms towards you.

“Forgive Sif, Your Highness, she’s not used to defeat.” Hilde explains.

“I’ve never met warrior women before. I wish she’d let me get to know her.” You lament, Thor’s arm tightening around your waist.

“She’ll come around, Cherub. She just needs some time.” He assures you.

“Or a boyfriend.” Hilde jokes. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to bring her around.”

“Thank you, Hilde.” You truly appreciate her and her kindness.

“I’m glad this is going well.” She points at you two, sincerely pleased, looking almost smug.

Thor’s eyes narrow, and he hugs you closer.

“So am I.” He throws at her.

She laughs once, then turns and heads after the others without another word.

“Alright, so why have you brought us out here?” Thor asks Loki, who quickly pulls a small black folder from what looks like to you, thin air.

“This plot of land has been designated as a public park. As our Queen, the council has decided that this would be the perfect first task for you.”

“For me?!”

“Yes. We’ll give you plenty of experts to do the actual work. Your job will be to oversee the park’s construction. They will give you options, you pick what you’d like, and at the end of a few months, you will unveil the park to the public.” Loki explains.

“Doesn’t it seem like too much to take on?” Thor worries, “For a first project?”

You remain silent, too stressed suddenly with the pressure to get this place just right mounting.

“You’ll help her, Your Majesty.” Loki teases, “It will be a joint project. A gift form the King and Queen to their people in honor of their wedding. We don’t have any parks yet, and with the population growing again, this one will be an excellent place for families to come and pass the time, for whatever reason families seem to want to do that.”

“So, I’ll have help.” With Thor by your side and many experts, it doesn’t feel so daunting. Still stressful, but not as scary.

“Yes.” Loki nods, handing you the folder so that you can look at the plans and options he’s already set aside for you. “After tomorrow, you’ll have a week to honeymoon, and once you’re back, you’ll begin your duties. Together. As a unified front for all the world to see.”

Suddenly, you realize what this is actually supposed to be.

“So, this is really just a PR stunt for everyone to see that Thor and I are getting along in our new marriage? Because no one can believe in the arranged marriage thing?” You sigh, feeling slightly deflated by the rude way reality seems to be encroaching on your blissful new love bubble.

“We knew this would be a concern, cherub.” Thor rubs your lower back, trying to soothe you a little. “We’ll easily give them what they want. Since I already love you, we won’t have to pretend. They’ll see us as we are.”

You’re knocked breathless again, trying hard to catch it as Thor’s stupid love declaration in front of Loki absolutely sends your body and mind buzzing.

Loki is also shocked by this. His eyes are wide, slow blinking as he stares at Thor’s feet, replaying what Thor just said.

Loki wasn’t expecting Thor to say that and you’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Cherub?” Thor gives your body a little shake.

“I’m okay.” You assure him, swallowing hard, almost ready to lose your mind until you look up and meet his eye.

His concern and caring is there, true and real, and it calms you. It settles your worrying heart and with a slow sigh, you nod.

“Really, I’m okay.”

Thor frowns, almost not believing you despite the fact that you can see that he means his words.

You’re not sure if he does it for himself or if he’s doing it to prove his point, but he holds you tighter, pulling your body towards his and holding your head in place as he leans down to give you a not so chaste kiss.

You can’t help yourself when his tongue begs for entrance. You open up for him and readily meet him in his passion.

“Okay…” Loki mutters, neither you nor Thor hearing him. “…I’ll just…go.”

[fangirlings-things]

Goodbye [2/2]

➤ PART. 1

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of death

A/N: just a lot of angst (again)!!! thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback and the notes, the messages, everything was amazing so thank you so much, you guys have no idea how much it means to me to see you enjoy my writing!! I hope you guys like this final piece, as usual, let me know your thoughts 💖

GIF IS NOT MINE || TAG LIST CRIMINAL MINDS: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee || GOODBYE TAG LIST: @amordesiempre01 ; @hiiwouldlikesomesleepplease ; @clairedragonessbaker ; @crazyshannonigans ; @ohhersheybars ; @messyhairday-me ; @joyofbebbanburg ; @horriblyquirkyasthmatic ; @basssalvatore2 ; @mac99martin ; @auds24 ; @captainhyenafan ; @uwu-sebastianstan ; @xoprincessmel ; @detective-time-lady ; @haylaansmi ; @tclaerh ; @spencie-reid1864 ; @dreamy-moments

In. Out. In. Out.

Hotch had been trying to control his breathing by thinking about those words. Over and over again, non-stopping. The air seemed tinier, yet heavier. Too dense. Sitting at the passenger seat of an SUV, he looked out through the window to the fields that seemed to be passing by. Rossi was driving too fast, but Hotch wanted him to slow down. He did not want to get to their destiny. Had no intention of doing so.

The countryside of Oklahoma City was illuminated by the sunlight of the middle of the afternoon. Farm houses could be seen here and there, with people walking around, doing their jobs. Animals ate and walked around their owners lands. The world was in place, still spinning, and that felt wrong to Hotch. Extremely wrong. You were gone, the world was supposed to be a horrible place. Things couldn’t just go on like nothing had happened. It couldn’t.

He had accepted that when the line went silent before. You had said your goodbye. You were gone. He had lost you. After the rest of the team had left that room, to probably continue to work to take their minds elsewhere, he stayed there, unable to move. He stared to that phone, and a voice in his head said nothing would ever be the same again. He had survived through Hailey. Could he survive through this? Losing you? He doubted it. He really did.

He just wanted silence and to be alone. To mourn you unstoppably like he new you would not approve, but still, he had to. But then David had entered the room again and said that Garcia had something. And even though Hotch had said he wasn’t interested in knowing whatever it was, David told him anyway. He said that when she left the room, she tried to triangulate the source of the call and was able to narrow down the location to a certain region. From there, Emily helped her with the profile that had been built and Reid added it to his geographical profile. Turns out, they could find the origin of the call. The place where you were. Where you had been, at least.

Hotch had told them that he did not want to go. He did not want to go and see your dead body laying around, disposed like he had seen so many other victims before. To see it… he couldn’t. He told the others to go, to arrest the unsub, he did not care. Because even though he did promise you that he would catch the man, he couldn't do it then. He wanted nothing but you back, but that he couldn’t have. And that thought destroyed him.

He had been dragged to the car anyway, Morgan literally pulled him by the arm all the way out of the station. ‘(Y/N) made you promise to catch this guy and you did. Now you go and keep that promise' he had said firmly, and that phrase made Hotch’s chest ache even more than it already did.

As the fields continued to pass, he thought about all you had done together on the past few weeks. You had taken Jack to a park and made a picnic. He had found you asleep in his office and covered you with a blanket he had laid around from one of his to-go bags. You had shared a rushed meal on your way to the airport, just a couple of burgers and soda. You had placed fries in his mouth while he was driving and you both had laughed hard on that day.

“Aaron” his name was spoken just by his side. It brought him back to the hateful reality. He sighted heavily. Live in memories had never felt so good. Turning to his side, he saw that David was looking at him with a careful expression on his face. “We are here”

Those words took a few seconds to make sense. At first he just frowned, but then realization came and his eyes snapped through the window and he saw it. A barn, right next to a small farm house. Both looked old and abandoned, the field around had clearly not been taken care of for a long time now. It was there. You were there. Your body, that being.

He got out of the car before David could say anything else. Before he himself even realized what he was doing. His hand just opened the door of the SUV and his legs were set into motion, taking him out of the vehicle and advancing several steps in the direction of those two constructions. He felt like something was pulling him in that direction, even though he felt the urge to actually run in the opposite direction. Would he be able to ever forget the sight of your body if he found it?

“Hotch! Wait” one of the car’s doors was slammed behind him and then Morgan came running towards him and stopped at his front, putting a hand on his FBI vest to make him stop from going forward. “The unsub is probably armed. You can’t go in there like this”

“Right” he mumbled to himself, lowering his eyes to his waist where he always carried his gun. He took it in his hands, feeling the weight of it like he always did. His voice sounded strange, even to himself. It carried nothing. It was the sound a ghost would make if he could be heard. He did feel like a ghost, just not feeling the pass of time and seeming unaware of everything going around.

Morgan watched him carefully until Rossi, Prentiss and Reid joined them. All of them had their guns in hand and seemed more than ready to bring an end to that nightmare. Rossi was the one who took command of the situation. “Spencer and I will take the farm house. Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss, you take the barn. Be careful, okay?” Prentiss and Morgan nodded in agreement. Hotch did not do anything.

When Morgan and Prentiss moved, he moved. He followed them with calculated steps and an erratic breathing, that came from the sense of panic he was feeling growing little by little inside of him. He saw Morgan pushing the doors of the barn open. From holes in the roof, light illuminated the place that once might have been dark even during the day. He saw Prentiss pointing her gun around as she looked for anything suspicious or a movement of any nature. He walked along with them, pointing the gun randomly, mind fogged and confused. Morgan took the front. Prentiss the right. He went left, to the corners, and that’s when he saw. You.

The first thing he noticed was that you were wearing your dark blue jeans. He hadn’t noticed that before, when you had gone out to follow a lead, but now he did. You were laying on the cold ground, hair spreaded around in a mess that used to be in his pillows by the morning. Your white tank top was a complete mess, teared apart in the belly, where you had been stabbed at least three times. Blood. Blood everywhere. Your face was turned away from him.

He fell to his knees, just realizing such thing when the impact seemed to crawl all the way up to his brain. The tears he thought had ended, came back as if to prove a point to him and instantly started to fall down. Always falling down. He wanted to look away. He need to look away. But how could he do so? You were just laying there. Left behind like some broken object. You had without a doubt been treated as such by the unsub. He wanted to scream. He wanted to sob. But quickly he realized he couldn’t emit any sound. Wasn’t able to.

“Prentiss! Here!” Hotch heard Morgan scream suddenly and he watched as the agent ran towards your body and threw himself to his knees to grab your dead body and bring it towards him. “Dammit, (Y/N)” he said, in the verge of tears.

Hotch finally fell completely down and placed his arms on his knees, then leaned his head down on it. He stared at the could ground and cried. And cried. And cried some more.

“Oh my God” Prentiss said from a few feet away, then she ran towards Morgan and also leaned down, from the sounds Hotch heard. Silence filled the barn as the three of them tried to accept reality. Emily was crying hard when suddenly, she spoke again. “What?”

“(Y/N) has a pulse” Morgan said, his voice seeming to come from far, far away. It was unsure, did not have any confidence. But then after a few more seconds of silence, his voice grew louder. “Emily, it’s a pulse! Get Rossi and Reid here!”

Hotch heard with a confused mind as Prentiss ran away towards the entrance of the barn and shouted for the other two agents. Her voice echoed through the fields. As it did, Hotch raised his head slowly and looked back to where you were. Morgan held your body loosely against his chest, an exasperated expression on his features. His eyes were fixed on the leader of the unit. “Hotch, (Y/N) has a pulse!” as the words seemed to have no effect on the other, he became more desperate. “Hotch, (Y/N)'s alive! Alive, Hotch!”

Hotch got up to his feet and walked towards your body and Morgan, stopping himself from believing that. From having hope. Once close he went down on his knees again and from up close, he saw your face. Eyes closed, blood in the corners of your mouth. The mouth he had kissed so many times. The face he caressed with his fingertips whenever he could.

“Here, Hotch, give me your hand” Morgan demanded and before the other could even do so, he grabbed Hotch’s hand and pressed it to your neck. Your skin was cold. It frightened him. He was about to move his hand away when he felt it. Just a little pumping under his finger. A pulse.

“Alive” he mumbled to himself, trying to set his mind straight. Trying to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t gone. You could still be saved.

“Yes, Hotch, alive!” Morgan smiled out of pure joy as he passed your body into Hotch’s arms and quickly took off his vest and then shirt. With a lot of skill he wrapped the clothing around your bleeding stomach, doing the best he could to prevent the bleeding from keep happening. “We have to get to an hospital”

It was as if Hotch had just been struck by a lightning. He felt filled with an odd energy, that set him into motion in an instant and made him get up with you wrapped in his arms carefully. He ran out of the barn as fast as he could without wanting to hurt you more, passing by Rossi and Reid on the way. “To the car. Now! We have to go!” the firmness in his voice, going back to how it usually was, made the others move as well.

He got in the back of the SUV with you still in his arms. Reid got to the passenger’s seat and Morgan got the wheel and set the car in movement as fast as he could. Rossi and Prentiss took the other vehicle. “Garcia!” Reid’s voice was loud and filled with urgency. “I need you to give me directions to the closest hospital to where we are. Now!” a few silent seconds. “(Y/N) has a pulse”

Hotch had his eyes sat on your face as all of that happened, fingertips running through your face and hair as he fought back more tears. Hope. He had to grab himself to hope right now that it was possible. Your breathing was barely there, chest almost not moving at all. But it was still there.

Still there.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

“What about the unsub?” J.J asked the others, with her arms crossed over her chest and a heavy look on her face. Just the mention of that man disgusted her.

Hotch sat at one of the hospital's reception chairs, elbows on his knees and eyes on the too clean floor. So different from the barn's. Hours had passed since he had stormed into the E.R with you in his arms. Hours had passed since you had been taken to surgery and disappeared through many doors with doctors all around you. He hadn’t had news since. Any. At all. So all he did was sit there and wait, hoping, praying, wishing and listening to the others talking, without saying anything.

“I found him” Morgan, who now wore a shirt Garcia had brought to him on her way there, said, and Hotch could feel his stare upon himself from the corner of his eye. Even though he was not looking at them, he did pay some attention to that part of the conversation. Honestly, the unsub had not even crossed his mind until J.J mentioned him. All his focus was on you. “He was dead. Shot in the stomach. Bled out. For the way there was a gun left a few feet away from his body, my guess is that (Y/N) managed to shot him before or after being stabbed. He tried to leave by the back exit of the barn, but didn’t make it”

“Good” Reid said with conviction, getting nods of agreement from both David and J.J. He had his hands on the front pockets of his pants and his eyes kept on going to the door through where doctors had been coming to notify other people about their loved ones. He was impatient. Everyone was.

“(Y/N)'s a fighter” Prentiss said in a proud tone. She had been unable to keep a smile away from her lips from the very moment Morgan had said you had a pulse. Even though she was still worried if you would pull through, she was hopeful. Maybe too hopeful, but no one could blame her right then.

“Hey” the proximity of the voice made Hotch raise his eyes, only to be met by J.J's sight standing by his side, lips squeezed in a thin line and hair tugged behind her ears. She sat at the empty chair beside his and joined her hands over her lap. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m not” Hotch pressed his palms together, sighting heavily. They were sweaty, shaking quite a bit. He squeezed them, trying to stop that from happening. “J.J, what if…”

“Stop” the blonde cut him short, so firmly that he fixed his eyes on her in surprise. She was determined, like she usually was when she decided the case they would be working on nextly. “Don’t go there. Don’t torture yourself like that. (Y/N) is going to pull through”

“Are you sure about it?” the question was made weakly, tone just above a whisper. Maybe not even to her. It was more like a unstoppable thought that he desperately wanted to shake away.

J.J opened her mouth to try to formulate an answer but before she could the doors Reid kept on watching were opened and a doctor in scrubs passed through them. He looked around the reception and then fixed his eyes on the FBI team. He started walking towards them.

Hotch got to his feet and started to walk forward, to meet the doctor halfway. The doctor sat his eyes on his face. Even though Hotch was a profiler, in that moment he had no clue what that man was going to say to him.

It scared the hell out of him.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

You opened your eyes slowly, to then quickly shut them again. The light. It hurt. It was too bright. You tried to take a deep breath. It also hurt. You set your breathing into shallow ones, those you could handle for now. After several moments, you tried to open your eyes again, right eye before the left one. ‘Baby steps', you thought to yourself, mind a bit fogged and confused.

It took some time, but then the place you were in started to get into focus. The walls were extremely white. You were laying in something soft. Soft. So different from the barn. The barn… suddenly the pain you were feeling made sense. You had been stabbed. Did you die? Had that been it? Falling into unconsciousness and everything just stopped? Just like that?

“(Y/N)?” the voice was so sudden it scared you. Made your eyes snap to your left side and then you saw him. Sitting at a chair, elbows resting on the bed you were on. His face was close, eyes incredibly red making it clear that he had been crying. Short hair a bit messy, so unlike the usual organization he always valued. “(Y/N)?”

“A-Aaron?” your voice sounded shaky, deep. Your throat was very dry, and you could feel it burning a bit, as if you had just taken a shot of whiskey. Oh, you could really use one of those.

He smiled, chuckling a bit as his eyes got filled with tears. He fought with them for a second, trying to hold them back. “I’m here, babe. I’m right here” one of his hands travelled to the top of your head and he kept it softly there, stroking the strands of your hair gently.

“How…?” the question died in your dry throat, as you frowned, looking for a possible answer. A thought occurred to you and it made you stare at him in fear. “Hotch, if you died too, I’m going to be really pissed”

He chuckled a bit. God, that did sound exactly like something you would say. Even haven just gotten out of a major risk surgery. “I’m not dead. Neither are you” he saw the relief in your features and smiled. He thought about the fact that he probably had never given someone a smile as pure as that one. How he was feeling… he couldn’t even begin to describe it.

“B-but the call… the barn…” you began, because that did not make sense at all. You remembered perfectly making that call, saying your goodbyes to him and the team. How could you have survived that, when you had already admitted to have been beaten?

“Garcia triangulated the call. She narrowed the location. Reid used his geographical profile and the others crossed references with men with criminal records in the area” the words just slipped across his lips, one after the other. Now that he knew you were okay, he stopped to think about how great had been the other’s work. If they hadn’t done that… well, he tried to push away that terrible thought. “They found your location. They found you”

“They?” you echoed his saying, confused by the choice of words. Usually, there wasn’t a 'we' in that team. It was a 'we'. And 'we' only.

Hotch swallowed dry at the questioning. He averted his eyes from yours and being a profiler, you recognized that body language. He was embarrassed. Feeling guilty. “After your call, I… I lost my ground. I froze” he squeezed his lips on a thin line. “They did everything on their own, I helped with nothing. In the barn, when we found your b-body” he struggled with the word for a bit. “Derek was the one who approached you and noticed you had a pulse. I had given up hope. All I did was sit down and cry” he sighted heavily, obviously trying not to cry right then and there. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should have reacted. I shouldn’t have sent you out there in the first place, it was my fault”

“Aaron” you slowly managed to move your hand enough to grab his, that still stood in the bed. Your touch on his skin finally made his gaze travel back to your face. You felt that usual spark of excitement when your eyes met. “Nothing is your fault. You were in shock. If this happened to you, I would have reacted in the exact same way. So, please, don’t go there” he nodded in agreement, but you could see that he would struggle with the matter still. For how much you knew him, you guessed that for quite a long time. However, you would be there for him. As you thought everything that had happened, you suddenly got agitated. “What about the unsub? Did you get him?”

“You were the one who got him, babe” Hotch said, and his words made more memories come into place. The stabbing. The fact that when that man was about to pull away from your bloodied body, you grabbed his gun and managed to shoot him. Just a single press to the trigger, that took all the strength you still had. You could still hear that awful sound ringing inside your head.

“I shot him” you said, and he nodded in confirmation.

“He tried to run, but I suppose you got one of his main organs. He died right there, a few feet away from where you were” he told, Morgan’s speech from earlier becoming quite useful. In that moment, he was grateful for having paid attention at all.

You had killed him. You did that. You won. “Good” was the only thing you said, and he chuckled. You smiled softly at him. “What?”

“Reid said the exact same thing” he said, still stroking your hair.

“Reid” you echoed the Doctor’s name, thinking about him and the others. About how much you would like to see them. In that barn, you had realized just how much you loved all of those people. People who used to be only your co-workers in the beginning of that job, but now were your family. “I-is the team here? Can I see them?”

“I’ll tell them to come in right now” Hotch kissed your forehead for a long moment, got up from his chair and disappeared through an open door in the corner of the room. Looking around the white walls and being able to hear only your own shallow breathing, you instantly wished to not have sent him out. You feared that being alone, would send you right back at that barn with nobody but that man. The unsub.

Before you could start to really panic though, Hotch got back, passing by the door. But this time, he was accompanied by the others.

“There you are” Emily was the first one to approach your bed, smiling like you had never seen her smile before. She seemed radiant, utterly happy. The fact that it was because of you, warmed your heart. “I knew you would pull through. You’re a badass” she got your hand in hers and squeezed it tightly, making you smile.

“Hey, sibling. I’m glad you’re okay” Spencer was the next one to approach you, as Emily got a spot close to one of the white walls. His saying was clearly a reference to the fact that you had said to consider him the 'brother' you never had, and that made you realize something.

“Y-you all heard that call?” you asked, looking around the room, to all of those familiar faces.

“Every single word” David confirmed your theory, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “We’re sorry for invading your privacy like that, but… honestly we couldn’t leave. And Aaron… it was better not to leave him alone in there” he looked at his side at Hotch, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking a the floor for a few seconds.

“I’m glad you didn’t” you said to David and your words made Hotch’s eyes raise to meet your face again. As you smiled reassuringly, he was able to smile too.

“And as for me marrying again, I’m not going to promise anything. What if I met a person who would be an wonderful ex?” Rossi said, making everyone roll their eyes and laugh. You tried to laugh, but your chest hurt too much, so you turned out to just cough a bit.

Hotch reassumed his position at the chair by your bed on that exact moment. “Don’t push too hard” his hand went back to your hair, as you agreed. ‘Baby steps', you reminded yourself.

J.J then came close, eyes filled with tears. She touched your arm gently, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re fine” she leaned down, kissed your forehead and then stepped back as you were only able to smile at her.

“I already made you three playlists” Penelope said as she was the one who now approached you, her eyes were red. She had clearly been crying very recently. You wished you could hug her. “One for your time here in the hospital, one for your recovery time at home and one for when you get back to work. I tried to include versions of Hotch singing 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' or 'Every breath you take', but he didn’t think my idea was too great, so” she shrugged, in that good humored way of hers. You fought back the urge to laugh. The others did.

“Now that, would be stuff I wish to hear” you looked over at Hotch, smiling. He mumbled 'not going to happen' in a serious, smiling way that made you bite back a laugh. You looked back at Penelope, reaching your hand out to hers. She grabbed it. “Thank you, Penelope. Thank you so much”

As she stepped back, you saw Derek standing behind her. His expression was serious, a bit sad even. As he got close, you saw that he was squeezing his lips tightly. “You do know you scared the hell out of me out there, right?” After you mumbled out a ‘sorry’, he grabbed your hand. “Now, you focus on getting better so we can have those pizza nights you talked about”

“Now that’s a plan” you said, and he nodded in agreement, face cracking up in a smile. You felt good from seeing him smile. After a few more seconds Derek stepped back too, and you looked at all of them, standing there, watching over you. “Thank you, guys. For finding me. For caring. For… for everything” you took a breath as deep as you could take, trying not to let tears fall down. “Now please, go to the hotel, rest. I know you’re all probably extremely tired”

“Actually, due to your physical work preparation, we could have more eight sleepless hours before…” Spencer said, and hearing him rambling like that again felt as music to your ears. Seeing the look in your voice though, very serious about them going to get some rest, he stopped talking.

“We will be back first thing in the morning” J.J assured, with that defining tone of hers that let you no doubt she would keep that promise.

“At the very first light” David agreed.

“Don't go out killing bad guys without us in the meantime” Emily winked at you, still smiling.

“We love you” Derek said, seriously.

“And I love you all” you said, running your eyes through all of them. Then, you watched as one by one, they left the room and then it was like it had been in the beginning, just you and Hotch. You closed your eyes for a long moment, just enjoying the feeling of his touch in your hair. When you opened them again, you met his gaze. “It’s selfish, but c-can you stay?”

Hotch stared at you as if you had just told him the most absurd thing in the world. “(Y/N), did you really think I would leave? I’m not getting out of here until you do” the sight of satisfaction you emitted could not have been held back.

“We can share the bed” you suggested, smiling.

“I’m completely fine with this chair” he kissed one of your hands, bringing it close to his lips before placing it down again, with his over yours. You saw a thought run through his features and before you could ask, he spoke his mind. “Will you marry me, (Y/N)?” you were speechless, incapable of saying anything. You thought how much your admittance on the call to having found the ring would have hurt him. “I had the ring in that drawer for months now. With the job, and everything… I was waiting for the perfect moment to ask but almost losing you like this made me realize that there is no such thing. My perfect is whenever I’m with you. And that’s what I want. I want to marry you”

Hearing that, you could no longer stop the tears. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you”

Hotch smiled, chuckling too. His eyes were filled with tears. “Good, because I was beginning to think that you had only accepted because you were in the verge of dying”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled back. “How did you guess?”

He chuckled a bit more and then kissed your forehead again, like he had done before. “I love you”

Looking at him, the man you loved, you thought about how lucky you were. To have him. To be alive. To have that team. Being so close to dying like that, made you see just how important what you did was. You put away bad people, like the man who had kidnapped you. You saved others. And to be honest, you couldn’t wait to get back on the job.

“I love you too”

[shiftysdogtags]

@liebgotttme I really hope you like this. I went with Lieb because i love him and this is what came to mind. Im not 100% happy with it so any feedback is appreciated. Not my gif.

Promised Proposals

Y/N’s crush on Lieb came out of nowhere. One day she felt nothing but admiration and friendship and the next the way she looked at him changed. While it wasn’t a big deal, she felt different and it scared her. Jumping out of planes into enemy territory was one type of scary but trying to admit that she was falling for him was a completely different thing.

Admiring him and the concentrated look that was painted into his handsome face she couldn’t help but

“Y/N, it’s your turn.” Babe snapped her out of her daydream, swapping the darts in his hand for the drink in hers taking a mouthful. They played against Shifty and Liebgott and if the score was anything to go by Y/N and Babe were by far the better team.

Every so often Lieb would try to encourage Y/N with words of confidence that could double as borderline flirting. A couple of times she has caught Babe side eying her after one of Lieb’s suggestive comments knowing full well she was dying on the inside. Trying to brush them off as being supportive yet an attempt to distract her and close the gap on his and Shifty’s losing streak, she couldn’t ignore the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Remember Y/N,” Lieb placed both hands on her shoulders while standing behind her. He was so close to her, closer than he had ever been before, meaning she could feel his breath on the side of her face as he leaned against her as he whispered into her ear. She couldn’t hear what he said next, trying to focus her attention on the game and not on her wandering thoughts. It’s almost as if he knew what he was doing, trying to take full advantage of the situation she found herself in just so he could win a stupid game of darts.

But she couldn't let him win. She believed if she won the game she would somehow have succeeded in hiding her true feelings too. Her denial was so deep she tried to hide it by encouraging him to flirt with the waitress who had been eyeing him all night.

“If you spent half as much time,” Y/N stopped herself mid-sentence throwing the first dart towards to board. “focusing on yourself as you do me, you would’ve noticed that dame eye-fucking you by now.”

Lieb looked over at the girl, a large smirk crossing his face. The game ended as soon as Lieb skipped off in the waitress direction. He had obviously decided he was better off giving her his attention as Y/N had pointed out.

Y/N took pride in being right, going out of her way to prove a point. The irony of it all was Joe hated that she was right and always wanted to prove her wrong but in this single act he did the complete opposite of that. This time, however, she hated that she was right. She never thought she would want to be so wrong in her life.

For the next few hours, it seemed the girl had abandoned her job, focusing all her energy on the attention Joe was giving her. By all views, she seemed to be enjoying it, she laughed along with him and leaned into him when he tried to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

It bothered her it really did. All strength of her denial was washed further and further away with each roll of her eyes at the squeaky laugh that came from the waitress.

Babe nudged her, trying to distract her. He knew her feelings for Lieb although she never told him. “It can’t get any worse.”

“Do you want a bet?” Babe glanced over to where Y/N pointed to see Lieb down on one knee in front of the prettiest waitress in the bar. He wasn’t the first guy to as her to marry him, she had rejected all of them just as she appeared to be rejecting him too.

Judging by the state of Joe, he was extremely drunk and was in no state to be making life-altering decisions. If she had said yes, who knows how he would react in the morning at the realisation of what he had done.

“He won’t remember any of this in the morning.” Shifty laughed at his friend while sipping his drink. He found it all too amusing. The thought of Lieb proposing alone was humorous but the thought of him trying to be romantic and get on one knew was downright hilarious. It’s not something anyone would expect of him.

“He might not, but I will.” The sight unfolding in front of her made Y/N laugh. He couldn’t look more idiotic if he tried. “And I won’t have any problem in reminding him.”

While it didn’t bother her in the slightest, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a slight bit jealous. It wasn’t premeditated, Y/N knew that Joe hadn’t set out to ask the poor waitress to marry him. He didn’t even know her.

When Joe stood up, finally accepting defeat and rejection, Y/N expected him to be some form of heartbroken. Instead, he wore the rejection as a badge of honour. With one hand over his heart and pretending to wipe a tear away he overplayed his mock hurt, obviously finding the situation humorous.

On his way back to his friends, he high-fived a few of the guys but his eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Did you see that, Y/N?”

“Yes, Joseph, I saw all of it,” Y/N replied. Joe’s face fell a little at her tone of voice, a hint of disappointment mixed with indifference.

Drunk Lieb, when he was in the right humour, was the most entertaining thing Y/N had ever seen. He never failed to make her laugh. Whatever little self-restraint he had left was washed away with each mouthful of alcohol leaving room for bad ideas and good times.

Reaching behind Lieb to get her coat, and for his arm to pull him up, she leaned towards him “I think it’s time for you to get home.”

“I only did it because you told me to.”

“I never told you to ask her to become the future Mrs Liebgott.”

Lieb groaned grabbing the last of his drink from the table. He didn’t need anymore but he was too far gone that one more mouthful wouldn’t make too much of a difference. Before Y/N could snatch the glass from his grip Joe knocked it back against his lips meeting her unimpressed look with a shit-eating grin. He planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek causing him to wobble again. The force of it alone shocked Y/N, and before she knew what to Babe had pushed her and Joe towards the door, helping her get out of there before anyone had a chance to say anything.

Did she ask him what he was doing? Why did he do that? Before Y/N had a chance to form a sentence to try to get her thoughts straight, Joe took advantage of her silence. “I didn’t like her anyway. You’re much prettier than her.”

His comment threw her thoughts into another spin. For once in her life, she was left speechless. Any other time Joe has thrown something at her, she was well prepared to return something his way.

“My Ma will love you.” He hiccuped continuing his ramblings while stumbling on loose ground. “Promise me you’ll come to see her after the war.”

After the war, Y/N thought. Would she still be here? Would Joe? It seemed like a lifetime away and she dared not to think about it. The last thing on Y/N’s mind was the end of the war and meeting Joe Liebgott’s mother was nowhere on her radar. Her only concern was getting him home safe and tucked into bed. “Yeah, sure.”

“No,” He wined and stopped walking. The last person she expected to have a temper tantrum was joe yet he stood in front of her like a child who wasn't getting his way. “You have to promise me.”

“Lieb, Alright. I promise.” With a roll of her eyes, she begged him to keep moving by linking her arm around his. The cold was starting to send shivers down her back despite having Joe so close to her. A content smile as wide as a Cheshire Cat crossed his face and he continues to lean against her as he stumbled closer to the bed that was calling his name.

Truthfully, she would have promised him anything and everything no matter what he asked her. Joe was a very convincing guy when he needed to be and it was only fuelled by the little crush she had for him.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” A gasp caught in her throat. It was the last thing Y/N expected. She never expected Joe to be the type to go around throwing out proposals to anyone who crossed his path. “I know I asked that other girl, but I don’t like her. I like you.”

She scoffed and it was her turn to stop walking with arms crossed against her chest. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“No.” The whine that escaped his throat was sure to wake the whole town up. Trying to make him stop and be quiet was useless. Trying to reason with Lieb on a good day was a losing battle.

With a hand firmly clasped over his mouth hoping it would somehow muffle his purring. “I’ll tell you what, if you remember this tomorrow I’ll give you my answer then.”

Joe fiercely nodded against her hand, apparently happy with her answer.

Taking her hand away from his face, she turned the handle to open the door of the house he was billeted in. “I mean, I don’t have a ring or nothin’-“

Y/N pushed him inside interrupting whatever he was going to say next. Of course, he had to say something to ruin the moment.

“Shut up, Liebgott.” She replied with a roll of her eyes and shutting it behind her before he could say anything else.

Her accommodation wasn’t too far away and she couldn’t wait to go to sleep and start tomorrow off fresh.

Surely he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, would he?

@curraheewestandalone @liebegott @vintagelavenderskies @inglourious-imagines @happyveday @easy-company-tradition @sydney-m @josephtoye @50svibes

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 13

Thump

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n goes on her first and only mission at HYDRA with Bucky

Warnings: swearing, violence, blood, death

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

This was the first mission I was assigned to with the Soldier. And I had a strong feeling it'd be the last. The Soldier's mind seemed less distant, clearer recently. I never complained, of course, as it meant two things: one, I actually had someone to talk to here that didn't want to either murder me or rape me and two, he was really fucking good with his dick when his mind was sharper.

We were currently holed up in a train carriage, which was stacked ceiling-high with wooden crates all marked 'stock'. Stock of what, neither of us knew. We had sneaked on, jumping onto the top of the train as it passed a hill we'd been waiting for. Once on top of the train, the soldier helped me into the back - which is where we currently are. It appeared like he'd done this a hundred times before - and one thing I did pick up on was his hesitance while scaling the side of the train. I didn't think much of it - I for one was nervous as shit when we were simply clinging to the small ladder down the end of the back carriage.

We were huddled close, the coldness seeping in from the mountains surrounding the track, the chill in my flesh making me shiver slightly and lean further into the Soldier. His arm was thrown over my shoulders, his own teeth chattered slightly but I could tell he was trying to appear unaffected by the surging weather.

I took the time to replay the briefing for the mission in my mind. Sneak in, stay discreet, use the vents to find the room with the politicians in, take them all but one out, frame the one who remained alive. God I'm happy I'm not doing this alone.

We had a plan. We would sneak in through the back entrance after sniping the two guards that were meant to be stationed there. From inside the door, just a meter to our left was easy access to the vents that we could crawl through for 50 minutes and we'd be directly above the room they were all set to gather in at 18:00. Once there, I'd use my voice to bring them into a state of unawares, from which The Soldier would shoot them all except one. I'd then use my powers to convince the left over that he was the one who did it and the Soldier would give him the gun that was used.

From there, I'd sneak down and take photos of the files they were discussing - HYDRA hadn't told us what they were but I was sure it was something that would deeply concern them - and then we'd leave the way we came.

Simple enough, really.

"You seem on edge." I commented, observing the way his eyes never remained in one place. "Something bad happen here?" I prompted when he only looked at me.

"I- I don't know." He came back with, eyes boring into mine. "You know the plan, right?" He asked, eyes still locked on mine like magnets. I nodded, humming in affirmation. "Good, I don't know if they'll fight back or not, so be ready." The soldier said, head tilting towards my waist in gesture of my belt that wrapped around the black tactical suit, holding various knives I could throw and a small, but powerful, gun.

I never liked using the gun, I always found the loud noise distracting. I preferred knives, and as my aim was particularly good whilst throwing them, I had little need for a gun unless I ran out of blades. But that seldom happened.

The temperature seemed to change, warming only slightly. A subtle thing that very few would pickup on, but as trained assassins you learn to notice the subtle things. I today, I knew this temperature change meant we'd entered the city. The pollution and bustling of people always increased the temperature, and only by a few degrees but when you were freezing your ass off, you tend to notice the discrete change.

"Time to get our asses moving." The soldier muttered before rising to his feet, offering me a hand as he did so.

"Let's get this show on the road." I murmured once on my feet, standing back as the soldier wrenched the door at the side of the carriage open.

"Roll once you land, it'll make the impact less brutal." He commented before he was diving from the train, landing with a smooth roll over the gravel, which crunched beneath him. I took a deep inhale, leaping from the carriage with nothing but hope that I'd land it rather than end up dead in the process.

My eyes sprang open as I landed, shock rolling through me as I realised that I was alright. A wide smile beckoned my lips, curling them upwards into a grin and I pushed myself from the floor and up onto my feet.

"That was the easy part." The soldier assured me as he walked towards me, my smile instantly dropping and his face falling into a hard expression. I new that face - it was his mission face. One that meant no more messing around, because shit was about to get real serious and real dangerous.

"Let's go." I said, beginning to walk towards the mass of buildings. The soldier followed quickly, directing us to slip behind the first block of apartments we came across so no one in the city would see us.

As we snuck our way to the centre, we flattened ourselves against the wall - melting into the plentiful shadows. As we approached our target, I felt the soldier's hand wrap around my bicep, pulling me back.

"Stay here. I'm going to get higher ground. When you see them drop, continue on and get into that door." He ordered gruffly, and before I could agree he was gone.

I crouched down slowly, now aware with how close we were to the two security guards that any sudden movement had the possibility of catching their attention. I leant into the side of the building, observing the two men as they blatantly ignored their surroundings. We're they trying to make this easy for us?

I felt a sneeze rise in my throat, that tangy feeling settling over my nose as I covered the lower half of my face with my hand. Try as I might, I couldn't prevent the unwanted noise, the small sound catching one of the guard's attention.

"Over there!" He hissed, tapping the other on the shoulder furiously in order to get their attention.

"What is it? I can't see anything." They dismissed, clearly trying to turn back around before the first guard yanked his attention back. I stayed as still as a statue, for once extremely glad that I was completely clad in black.

"I heard someone. Over there." The guard exclaimed, pointing almost directly at me. I held in my breath, eyes widened as I sat petrified. That's when my weight shifted, a small twig I didn't know was beneath my shoe snapping under the pressure. I stopped myself from wincing, the snapping noise echoing and completely giving away my position.

"There they are! Quickly, shoot them!" The second guard shouted, pointing at me as the first fumbled with his belt. I took the opportunity, pulling a blade from my belt as quick as I could and preparing to throw. But two pained shouted caught my attention, my gaze raving to see the two men sprawled on the floor, foreheads pierced with bullets.

My gaze drifted upwards, the soldier crouched over the top of a clearly abandoned bridge, gun in hands and still pointed towards them. A scowl was etched on his features, the lower banks of his face now covered by an ominous black mask.

I snapped from my trance, darting along the back of the building until I reached the door. Once I reached it, I cursed under my breath, realising it was locked as I tried to tug it open. I sighed in frustration, reaching into a pocket on the side of my leg and pulling out a pin.

I crouched by the door again, trying to not be caught a second time as the piece of metal wiggled around in the key hole until I heard the  soft, tell-tale click that signalled the door had unlocked. I stood up, tucking the pin back into my suit and moving to open the door. As I slowly tuned the handle, edging the door open enough to check inside, the Soldier appeared beside me.

"Great job." He deadpanned, eyes cold as he glared at me.

"Hey! It wasn't my fault, blame the gardener that decided daisies were a good idea!" I retaliated in a whispered-shout.

"Just shut up and go." He demanded, brushing past me and into the building once he realised it was clear. Once I'd collected my thoughts as called him a wanker under my breath, I pushed through the door after him to be met with the sight of the soldier's muscles bulging as he tried to pry the vent door from the wall as quietly as he could.

The metal clanked gingerly as he removed the door, placing the vented slab to the side of the now-clear entrance before turning to me and gesturing for me to follow. I got to my knees, crawling through the hole in the wall and placing the vent back in place behind me to lower suspicions.

We crawled through the vents stealthily, the concentration on us apparent as we both counted the meters. I almost crashed straight into the soldier's behind when he abruptly stopped, so I assumed the vent we needed to take out the plan was in front of him. He climbed over it quickly, so we were either side of the slats in the floor.

The soldier looked at me, bringing a finger to his lips as one of the politicians went in a rant.

"It's ridiculous! They expect us to vote on this and we don't even have all the information!"

"Well maybe if you'd read the file, you'd know the answer to all these bloody questions you keep asking!"

The soldier pointed a finder towards the men below us, before moving the same fingers so it was pointed at my mouth. I gave him a curt nod.

The tune flowed from my lips freely, easily, as I began humming. I almost stopped when I saw one of the men tense through the vent, knowing we'd been caught and probably executed or something. But when his shoulders relaxed my fear dissipated, the song falling from my continuously.

I noticed the metal plugs now in the soldier's ears as he leant over the vent, which he'd now pried open and had slid toward me slightly. His gun was pointed down the space he'd created, eyes cantered in on presumably one of the targets. Then he fired, and I flinched as I heard a hollow thump as the body slipped limply to the ground.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The man who had tended remained alive, still relaxed and eyes glazed over. The soldier motioned for me to move, pushing the vent conger completely out of his way before jumping down into the room, the expected thud as he landed never coming. Wow, this man really is light on his feet.

Maybe he should've been a ballerina, that little voice in my head sung, a smug smile drawing over my lips at the thought of the Winter Soldier in a tutu.

I snapped out of it, following him down and landing crouched, almost disappointed at the tiny thud when I landed.

I barely noticed I'd stopped singing until the burning pain in my shoulder pierced through my thoughts.

"Get down!" The soldier shouted, shoving my down my my good shoulder and taking a lethal shot to the remaining politician's throat. He fell the the floor with a garbled cough, the splatter of blood across my cheek making my wince. The soldier chucked the gun to the table, scooping up the files and pushing them desperately into one of his big pockets on the leather he wore before yanking my up via my arm. "We have to hurry." He gritted through clenched teeth, using two clasped hands under my foot before hoisting me back into the vent.

He all but jumped up after me, replacing the grate before placing two hands on my cheeks to centre me. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, my breathing fast and uneven and my eyes refusing to meet him.

"Hey, look at me," my eyes found his, "I know you're in pain, trust me." He said, a tiny smirk pulling at his lips as the words tumbled from his lips, "but right now, you're running on adrenaline and we need to take advantage of that. So you're going to turn around, and you're going to crawl to the end of this vent and get out of the building. Quietly." He instructed, and I began nodded. I went to turn around, but he used two gloved, metal fingers I redirect my head to him. "It's nothing personal." He said with a  pitiful smile before whipping a few hanker chiefs from his pocket and stuffing them into my mouth. "Bite down on them if it hurts." The soldier clarified when I gave him a confused expression.

...

The sound of the alarm seemed to follow us and we ran, my hand clutching my shoulder as my big down aggressively at the cloth in my mouth. The soldier was behind me, making sure I didn't fall behind with my injury.

The blaring noise of the alarm stressed me out, knowing that they were probably looking for us making my pick up the pace despite the burning in my shoulder.

"There!" The soldier exclaimed, my eyes low finding the black car that we knew would be to pick us up. As we approached the end of the alley we walked down, the soldier over took me, sprinting forward to hold the door open for me.

I stumbled into the back of the car, being ushered farther in as the soldier climbed in behind me and slammed the car door shut.

The vehicle began moving, the chauffeur barely paying kind to us as my chest heaved and a scream broke through the cloth in a muffled shout.

The panicked look on the soldier's eyes is all that I could focus on, his mask off now and his lips moving but I couldn't seem to hear him. Black crept up on me, clouding the edge of my vision as it invaded my senses.

...

"Someone's finally awake then." The displeased    chide of the General filling my ears as my eyes fluttered open.

"You have to leave her alone! It wasn't her fault!" The soldier's voice said desperately, I could hear the worried tone edging his words.

"Quiet. She's the reason you failed your mission, Soldat. I won't have it happen again." The general snapped, my vision fully in focus now.

The general was stood before me, my hands strapped to the ceiling and my toes barely touching the floor. The pain in my shoulder screamed at me, but I could no longer feel the sickening wetness of my blood dripping down my back. They must've taken me to the medic on the flight home.

"Please, don't you think she's endured enough? She was shot for god's sake!" The soldiers reasoned, and I could see him fighting against his restraints. But the general ignored him.

"I think you're memory is getting too sharp. I'll be sure to get you reset once I'm done." He dismissed, a wince finding me as three guards filed into the cell. "Make her pay." He barked, standing back.

The guards grinned sickeningly, my eyes widening as a scream of protest trying to escape the silencer as I caught sight of the bats in their hands. It felt like the air had been punched from my lungs when one of the bats made contact with y stomach, and I already knew the area would be bloody and bruised when they were done.

"And don't stop until she passes out."