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empresskylo · 7 months

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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 10 ⬅ch.9

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | violence. sexual assault implications. blood. wc 5.4k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | hehe enjoy

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

…uzbekistan…

you woke to arabic voices, your eyes squinting open in discomfort. your head was pounding and your stomach thrummed with a wave of nausea. you quickly remembered you had been hit with the butt of a rifle, right beneath your ribs. you leaned over in the moving vehicle and dry heaved.

“innahā mustayqiẓatun,” she’s awake .

you sat back up, the realization of what had happened hitting you. you went to wipe your mouth and found your hands were bound together with a rope. you groaned and awkwardly carried out the action with your hands linked.

laswell . you quickly looked around, not seeing laswell in the the truck with you. you were in the backseat beside a man who was speaking hurriedly to the man in front, driving. you looked out the window, the town rushing by.

“where’s laswell?” you asked, your voice hoarse. the men ignored you. “my friend. where is she?” you said with a bit more force hoping one of them would answer you.

they continued to talk as if you weren’t there. you ground your teeth together in annoyance. you rested your head against the window, the cold of the glass helping with the tension throbbing in your skull.

your body was still pumping with adrenaline and you were finding it hard to sit still. your fingers wound themselves together, your leg bouncing up and down. you hoped laswell was okay. you also hoped she was going to the same place you were… you didn’t want to be alone, as cruel as that might be. you were trapped in this truck with three men—three men who kidnapped you. you had no idea where they were taking you or what they were going to do with you. the panic hit you like a slap in the face.

you tried to breathe slowly, letting out low breaths, trying to steady your nerves. it did little to help.

would the others be coming to rescue you and laswell? surely they would. shepherd wouldn’t let them give up on you two. at least not laswell, she was far too important. and price wouldn’t stand for it.

they were coming. you prayed to god they were coming.

“lieutenant. it’s farah. it’s time.”

“rog. wheels down in one.” ghost voice was hoarse as he answered farah over the comms. “nik, convoy’s inbound. we’re on.”

“copy that,” nikolai responded. “over the hlz now.”

ghost’s heart rate continued to rise the longer you and laswell were kept hostage. he clenched the gun at his hip and patted himself down, making sure he had all he would need to get the two of you back. he also found it hard to stay still, his body flooded with adrenaline.

“good. set ‘er down and hold,” ghost said. he walked to the door of the helicopter, looking between gaz and soap. “gaz, you stay in the heli on overwatch. we’ll work our way up the line.”

“roger that. let’s thin the herd, get laswell and iaso back.”

when the helicopter landed only moments later, ghost and soap connected fists with gaz as they hopped out. on the ground, dirt whipping around them from the blades of the helicopter, a woman on a rusted bike sat waiting for the two men.

“hey, lt., sergeant,” she called out, greeting the men.

“farah. thanks for the assist,” soap replied when ghost didn’t respond, noticing how he had tensed up.

“we share a common enemy,” farah said, nodding at the men.

“and friends in need,” ghost said a bit harshly. “are you ready?”

“all set. see you down the road!” she slid up her mask and pulled get goggles over her eyes. she looked so self-assured, ready to take down men twice her size. ghost thought about how you would have liked her.

“all stations… we’re on the move!” ghost called as he and soap jogged up to the beige truck waiting for them.

the two men jumped in the bed of the truck, ghost slapping the top of the roof to let the driver know they were on board and ready to go.

the procession of three trucks and multiple motorcycles took off down the dirt road.

“all stations, we’re up—comms check…” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ear.

“good copy,” ghost grunted.

“check,” gaz responded from 30 feet in the air, his sniper at the ready as he pointed it out the door of the helicopter.

“loud and clear,” nikolai said.

“the al-qatala convoy just passed us. we’ll be right behind them,” farah urged.

“copy. nik, use the ravine for cover. we’ve got one shot to rescue them.”

“roger that,” nik responded to ghost.

“what vehicle are they in?” gaz asked.

“al-qatala has iaso in a black suv, laswel in the similar one right in front of hers. near the front of the convoy.” farah’s voice echoed.

“we hit the escort vehicles first. then we secure laswell and iaso before aq can reach the border.” ghost commanded. “soldiers, move in!”

gaz began to fire shots at aq that were standing in the back of truck beds. ghost gripped his gun as he aimed the barrel toward the aq vehicles up ahead. he was too far back to get a good shot and growled in irritation.

ghost leaned over the side of the truck, shouting to the man driving, his window down. “get me up beside one of the aq trucks!”

the driver nodded and stepped on the gas. “what’re ya doin’?” soap asked ghost.

“gettin’ the girls back,” he said before stepping onto the top of the truck and running down the front onto the hood, immediately jumping and landing on the back of an aq truck. one of the men stood and came at ghost, but gaz was faster, shooting a bullet through his skull before he could reach him.

“thanks,” ghost said.

“don’t mention it.”

ghost’s fist came slamming down onto the other aq, shoving him off the back of the truck. he sheathed his gun momentarily, maneuvering himself over the edge of the truck, his hand clutching tightly to the metal, his other hand opening the driver’s door. the man shouted something in arabic as ghost grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped him from the truck. the man went tumbling on the pavement, his hands coming up over his head as the bikes raced around him.

ghost pushed himself into the driver’s seat with a huff. he yanked the door shut and floored it.

“jesus, lt.,” soap breathed, watching the events unfold.

ghost would have chuckled at soap’s astonishment, but all that was on his mind was getting you back unharmed.

of course ghost cared about laswell. he had worked with her for a while now, and he’d never admit it, but he cared about price too. and price and laswell were close. price had been fuming when he found out what happened on this mission—pissed at himself for not being there, as if he could have done something to stop laswell from getting taken if he hadn’t asked ghost to take his position.

but laswell wasn’t ghost’s main objective. it was you. you were who he was about to slaughter through walls of men for. it was you his heart pounded in nerves for. he felt so sick when he thought about what they might be doing to you that he almost had to lean over to retch.

and laswell—while out of practice—was a trained killer. you, on the other hand, had only started to take combat training seriously the past few weeks. the thought made ghost’s chest constrict painfully tight. if they put one hand on you…

he let out a shallow breath, turning the wheel to the truck abruptly, avoiding civilian cars while trying to move up the procession of aq trucks.

soap had an eye on ghost’s truck and saw the way he was swerving between oncoming cars to get closer to the front. soap almost regretted his conversation with ghost earlier. he was worried it had gotten through to him—that ghost was ready to risk his life, acting far too rashly, to clear his conscience.

ghost spotted the black suv farah had mentioned earlier up ahead. it was pretty far off in the distance and with aq trucks clogging the road, and oncoming traffic coming from the other direction, ghost slammed his hand on the wheel in frustration. it was going to take too long for him to get up close.

“throwing molotov!” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ears, bringing him back to the moment. he saw the truck behind him go up in flames in his side mirror.

“heh-heh… i missed farah,” nikolai laughed.

the commotion in his ears faded to a rumble. ghost was focusing on how to get to you before it was too late, everything else was just background noise to him. he heard nikolai and gaz yelling in his ears but nothing was getting through to him.

an aq truck pulled up beside him and ghost immediately pulled his gun and began shooting. the truck stuttered backward before pulling back up and firing at him again. ghost ducked and swerved the vehicle. he slammed the side of his truck into the other, catching them off guard and using that as an opportunity to shoot back at them. before he could reload, the enemy truck exploded, turning into a ball of flames.

he heard farah laughing over the comms. jesus, she was intense, and ghost was thankful for it.

the further he drove, the farther you seemed to get from him. civilian vehicles were only getting in the way, the aq trucks swerving all over the road, preventing ghost and his other men from getting past them.

a car exploded before ghost, making him grip the wheel tightly, trying to turn out of the way. that wasn’t an aq truck…

“they’re taking down civilian vehicles! blocking the roads!”

shit.

you heard the explosions going off somewhere in the distance behind you. you turned to look out the back window and saw a large commotion, vehicles going all over the road, a procession of motorcycles with riders shooting men in trucks.

a feeling of relief swam through you— they came.

you continued to watch, unable to do anything else. you observed as a car that was rushing in the opposite direction blew up, rotating onto its back and igniting in flames.

“wait… those are just civillians,” you muttered to yourself. “hey! you’re killing innocent people!” you shouted. you couldn’t believe it. they were taking innocent lives, completely uncaring, their only objective was to block the roads.

you turned to the man beside you in astonishment, ready to yell again, when his hand came down on your face, slapping you across the cheek. your head flew in the opposite direction, your lips parting in a gasp.

“no more talking,” he said in a heavy accent.

you gulped, looking forward. you licked your lips and could taste the blood from your busted lip. the other men laughed as they looked at you in the rearview mirror, muttering something you couldn’t understand in arabic.

you were going to have to be smarter about this. you sat silently in your seat. you began to worry that your teammates wouldn’t be able to get to you in time. there were a lot of aq vehicles trailing behind you. you weren’t sure how they’d manage to get through them all.

you heard the engine of a helicopter and you turned, looking out one of the back windows again. your jaw dropped. oh my god, was that gaz? gaz was fucking hanging from a rope attached to the helicopter, upside down, continuing to shoot at enemy soldiers. you gasped when he almost swung right into a truck. your heart raced as you watched him.

a bend in the road cut off your vision and you faced forward again. you didn’t want anyone risking their life for you. as much as you wanted rescuing, you didn’t want it at the expense of others. the image of gaz swinging wildly in the air was plastered in your mind. these men were going to get themselves killed. and it was going to be your fault.

ghost felt like he was running out of options as you rapidly approached the border.

“gaz, nik—my spotters are reporting an aq roadblock ahead.” farah’s voice came in through the comms in a level-headed voice.

“affirm, i see it,” nikolai responded. “you might have to ram through.”

“crash it. kill as many as you can,” ghost echoed into his mic.

ghost gripped his steering wheel, stepping on the gas as he approached the roadblock. he spotted gaz coming up right behind him in an aq truck.

both men tore through the aq men, trudging past the trucks lined up to block them, destroying anything in their wake. ghost felt beyond destructive. he felt lethal.

“nik, i punched through,” gaz said as him and ghost got on the other side of the roadblock.

“be advised. there is a situation up the road.” nikolai’s voice sent a shiver through ghost. he was just waiting for someone to say your black suv blew up, or crashed, or they lost track of it.

“aq is deploying mines on the highway!”

“these are civillains, nik,” gaz said in anguish. “aq will burn for this.”

“i’ll bring the matches,” farah chimed in.

ghost managed to weave between the charred cars, praying he didn’t hit a mine.

further up the road, ghost swung open his door, timing it just right so when an aq motorcycle rode up right beside him, with great strength, he shoved the man off and hopped on. he watched as the truck ran off the road and crashed into a rocky hill.

ghost revved the bike’s engine, gaining far more speed than he ever could in the pilfered truck.

he heard gaz and nik conversing, then soap yelling over the comms for gaz to get on board the truck bed he was in.

ghost floored it down the road, watching as the procession ahead of him split off in two different directions.

“shit! they’re splitting them up!” soap called out.

“who do we follow?” gaz asked as he picked up the grenade launcher.

ghost grit his teeth. “soap, gaz—follow laswell. i’ll follow iaso.”

“you sure, lt.?”

“we don’t have time to argue about this, soap. just go.”

soap and gaz looked at one another before nodding. the convoy split up. soap and gaz followed laswell and ghost went off the road, following the black suv you were trapped inside. the car was going too fast for the others to keep up. ghost was glad he got on a bike, it was the only way he’d be able to get up to you in time.

ghost’s own words rang in his head, the ones he had said to you in the bar. the words that hurt you. the words he had regretted ever since they left his tongue. you were going to die thinking he hated you. thinking he used you.

ghost clenched the handlebars to the bike tighter, narrowing his eyes as he hurried behind you. he was going to get you back even if it killed him.

you knew you were going off the road the second the vehicle began to bump up and down. you tried to clutch onto something to keep from falling off the seat, but it was difficult with your hands tied.

the men in the suv with you were yelling at one another. then the stout man beside you leaned out his window and began shooting.

you turned to look out the window. your stomach dropped. the convoy was gone. you only saw one motorcycle trailing behind you. the others must have split off. this was their plan. to split you and laswell up, thus splitting up the convoy of rescuers.

you tried not to let the fact that only one person was trailing you to hurt your feelings. now was not the time to be sensitive. but you couldn’t help but wonder if laswell had the rest of your team following her. it made sense, though. she was laswell… and you were just…iaso.

you yelped as the vehicle took an abrupt turn, making you slam into the man beside you. he shoved you off and rushed to reload his gun. you looked behind you in horror, realizing it was ghost on the bike, finally able to make out his mask as he edged closer.

the man beside you went to lean back out the window, ready to send bullets in ghost’s direction. you acted before you could think, using your tied hands to claw at his back. you gripped onto the cotton material of his shirt and yanked him backward. he was so caught off guard from the sudden attack that he stumbled and crashed back on the seat beside you.

he said something in arabic then hit you across the face again. your head flew back and hit the edge of the door. you groaned in pain. you squeezed your eyes shut, your head throbbing.

they took a sharp turn and you were jostled back, opening your eyes in response. the man in the passenger’s seat leaned out his window now and began to shoot his pistol. you heard him make a celebratory noise and you almost broke your neck turning around to look for ghost.

ghost’s bike skidded out from under him, sending him crashing down. the bullet had blown a hole in his tire.

“no,” you said softly. your lips trembling. he was your last hope.

you watched full of dread as the truck carried you away. ghost sat up and brushed himself off. he looked out after you, standing in the middle of nowhere, at a loss of what to do.

tears began to slide down your cheek.

“i lost her,” ghost said over the comms in a newfound sense of defeat. soap had never heard his voice sound quite like that.

there was a moment of silence before ghost heard ruffling and then soap’s voice.

“come again, lt.?”

ghost was walking back from where he came, following the tracks in the dirt. “iaso. she got away.”

again there was radio silence.

“im on my way,” ghost heard farah say.

“farah—”

she cut ghost off. “i started trailing you as soon as we picked off the remaining aq trucks. we’re almost to you. stay put,” she demanded.

it wasn’t long before farah was riding up with two other men on bikes. “what happened?” farah asked, her bike skidding to a halt.

“fuckers blew my tire. they still got iaso.”

farah looked at one of her soldiers and nodded. he hopped off his bike and held it up for ghost. farah laughed as ghost looked confused. “get on. we’re goin’ to get her.”

“laswell?” ghost asked, wanting to know if she had at least made it out okay.

“soap and gaz got her. she’s safe.”

ghost took in a breath before accepting the bike and getting on. “let's go get her back, lieutenant.”

with a new rush of energy, ghost took off, following the tracks of the suv alongside farah and another soldier.

“she couldn’t have gotten far!” farah called out.

when the suv came to a stop, you were quickly escorted out of the vehicle. you stumbled, the men giving you no time to right yourself before they pushed you into a wooden building. the men roughly jostled you through the door, your eyes attempting to adjust to the dark.

you struggled to make out where you were before the man whose hands were holding your arm shoved you into a small room. you fell to the floor at the sudden force.

the man spat something at you that you didn’t understand then he slammed the door shut behind him. you were left alone in the room and you tried to sit up. your arm was already bruising from where he held you, and you could feel blood dripping down the side of your face.

you scooted yourself into the corner and hugged your knees to your chest, your wrists beginning to burn as they constantly rubbed against the binding rope.

you tried to hold back the wave of tears but you failed. you hoped they made it to kate. you hoped she wasn’t going through the same thing you were right now. though, if she was, she was no doubt coping much better than you.

you looked around the room, trying to clear your vision from tears by blinking repeatedly. the room was mostly empty except for a chair and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was an interrogation room.

the notion plummeted inside your stomach, making you bury your face in your knees. you weren’t going to survive this. you were weak. you were suddenly pissed at price for letting you join his team. you weren’t cut out for this shit. you were a medic, not a damn fighter.

minutes ticked by and your tears finally dried up. the longer you sat, the more fear was instilled inside you. you regretted cursing price out already, knowing it wasn’t his fault any of this happened to you. usually, you were good under extreme pressure, but that was only when it came to medical stuff. not when you were being kidnapped.

god, your head was killing you. you hoped you didn’t look as bad as you felt.

the metal door scrapped along the cement floor as it opened. you looked up in horror as a man stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. he grinned when he looked at you huddled in the corner.

“you don’t appear to be a soldier,” he said, his accent dripping over every word.

“i’m a medic,” you said, your voice only slightly wavering.

the man made a humming sound as he dug around in his pocket. “well, then i’m sorry to have to do this to you, but really, we have no choice.” he gestured around him. the sardonic smile on his face said he didn’t mean any of the words he was saying. he likely couldn’t wait to torture you for information, even when you’d be unable to offer anything useful. he just needed an excuse to hurt someone.

he nudged his head towards the metal chair. “don’t make me have to help you up,” he grunted.

you quickly got to your feet and sat in the chair, your body shaking with nerves. the man grinned as he dragged the knife he drew from his pocket along your arm. “been awhile since i’ve done this to a woman. i’d be lying if i said i haven’t missed it.”

you swallowed painfully as he trailed the knife up to your neck. “you’re sick,” you spat at him.

he chuckled. “indeed.”

you knew then that nothing you said was going to help you. this man didn’t care if you knew anything or not. he just wanted to hurt you. you didn’t want to cry, but the tears began to fall again anyway. you tried so hard to keep them in. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

he licked his lips as he watched the tears glide down your cheeks. “pretty thing like you shouldn’t cry,” he said menacingly.

he took his knife and traced it back down your arm until it reached your hand. “hmm. now, tell me. which finger do you like the least?”

you strangled a sob. he didn’t even interrogate you yet. he was just jumping right to the torture part “please,” you barely managed to get out.

“oh, i like the way you beg,” he remarked.

you grit your teeth and pulled your hands away from him. “nowhere to go,” he mocked, using his knife to gesture around the small confines of the room.

“im curious. where have you been getting your intel on hassan’s location?”

you shook your head, pulling back as far away as you could from him.

he tisked. then his hand grabbed your jaw aggressively, making you whimper. his knife came up and slid down the side of your face, this time he applied pressure and you squeezed your eyes shut. the blood wept out from the trail he left and you could feel it slide down your face and drip onto your clothes.

the man shoved your face back as he let go, flipping his knife in his hand as he watched you with fire in his eyes. “now, i’m going to give you another chance to answer. and trust me, you won’t like what happens if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.”

you opened your mouth but nothing came out. that type of information was classified, so even if you wanted to tell him—which you wouldn’t—you didn’t know. medics didn’t get the rundown of information like that.

when he realized you weren’t going to speak, he looked you up and down. “hm. you’re not going to be of much help, huh?” he prowled you like a cat would its prey. “how about i get some use out of you before i bloody you up too much, then?”

you didn’t like the sound of that. his knife hooked under the straps of your tactical vest and in a swift movement, he cut it away. the vest fell from you and he tossed it aside to the floor. then his knife was back along the collar of your shirt. he grinned as he ripped through your longsleeved shirt, straight down the center. you silently cried as you felt the air rush to your now exposed skin. the shirt was split down the middle exposing your tank top.

“please don't,” you pleaded.

you felt his fingers along the neckline of your tanktop now, his knife slipping under the fabric. you closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

just as he was about to slide his knife down your shirt, you heard yelling and the sound of guns going off in the distance. the man stopped all movement and turned around. he clearly wasn’t expecting any sort of interruption. without another word, he exited the room to investigate, leaving you alone again.

you caught your breath, breathing in and out exceptionally fast. you let out a loose breath and looked up at the ceiling, willing your tears to slow. the loss of his grimy fingers on your skin relieved you momentarily.

you tried to calm yourself as you heard more shouting and the firing of weapons. your legs were shaking as you sat there. you tried to use your hands to pull your shredded shirt back over yourself but it was no use. you swore in exhaustion, sinking back into the chair.

after several minutes, it was finally silent outside the room. your body set in more unease with the silence.

the door handle shook and the awful sound of it scraping the ground made you wince as the door opened. your eyes immediately went to the door and you kept them locked on the entrance, feeling them go wide as a large figure took up the space.

you almost choked on your breathing, a strangled sob leaving you as you locked eyes with ghost. you began to cry in relief. in shock. in horror of what almost happened—you were convinced it was really all over for you. that this was it.

as your body shook, ghost rushed up to you. his voice was hoarse as he said your name, trying to gain your attention. you looked up at him through hot tears and gave a halfhearted smile, your lips trembling. you had held yourself together as best as you could, but now with ghost in front of you, everything came tumbling down. his mask was covered in blood and he seemed to be out of breath.

he tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, his heart squeezing painfully at the sight. your face was bloody and your shirt had been ripped apart. a newfound sense of anger coursed through ghost.

he pulled out his knife and you flinched, hitting the back of the chair as you created space between the two of you. he took notice but didn’t stop his movements. maybe in any other scenario, he would have tried to calm you down, letting you know he was only using the knife to free you. but just the fact that you shied away from his knife sent him into a fit of rage. he saw that the cut on your face was a long, straight line. he knew then why you were suddenly acting like his knife was the scariest thing in the world. he wished he hadn’t already killed every fucking bastard in there. he would give anything to string up whoever did this to you and give them a slow death.

he slid the knife between your hands and cut away the rope, setting your hands free.

you immediately grasped your wrists which had turned red and rubbed raw from the rope. ghost looked down at you, still unable to say anything. your eyes met his again and you took a moment to take him in before you sprang to your feet and wrapped your arms around him. he didn’t hesitate as he hugged you back.

he felt you sobbing into his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. “you’re okay,” he cooed softly. “you’re safe now. i’ve got you.” his heart pounded harshly in his chest and you could feel it against you.

one of his hands slid up your back and got lost in your hair as he cradled you to his body, your frontside flesh with his, wanting you as close as he could get you. he shut his eyes for a brief moment, letting reality hit him full force. he got to you in time. you were okay. you were going to be okay.

he sank to his knees in sharp relief with you still wrapped tightly in his grasp. he let you take what you needed from him, his presence bringing you nothing but a sense of safety. he let out a long breath of relief.

you pulled back slightly, ashamed to look at him. “i-i’m sorry,” you muttered, your hand loosening around him.

sensing your doubt, he clung to you tighter. “stop,” he said in a voice so soft you felt your heart pinch. “this isn’t your fault.”

you felt like he was reading your thoughts better than you were. his few words hit you harder than he could ever know. you sank back into him, letting yourself go limp as he held you.

when you both finally separated, ghost helped you to your feet. he appraised your figure and you saw the anger behind his eyes. he moved too quickly for you to take in what he was doing. he slid his vest off and then removed his longsleeved shirt, leaving him in his black undershirt. you watched in astonishment as he pulled the shirt over your head. you slid your arms in as ghost picked up his vest and put it back on.

your eyes traced his tattooed arm and his scent immediately filled your nose. his shirt was far too big for you, hanging down over your thighs, but you were thankful. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you were still embarrassed to have your shirt ripped and exposed like that. you didn’t want everyone else to know what happened to you. you almost felt ashamed.

ghost clenched his fist before reaching up and running a finger over the bruise above your eyebrow. “i’m sorry i couldn't get to you sooner,” he said distractedly.

you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “ghost, don’t. it’s not your fault either.”

he wished you had called him simon.

before he could think more on the topic and read into your every word, he scooped you up and held you in his arms bridal style. you squealed but settled into his arms quickly. his hand rubbed soft patterns on your back as he carried you out of the building. your arms hooked around his neck, your body shaking less violently, but still shaking nonetheless.

ghost held you closer and you felt like everything was going to be okay. you rested your head on his chest and let the tears fade out slowly.

chapter 11 ➡

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sanzaibian · 2 months

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I turns off my phone angrily. I have barely touched down to Pudong International Airport, and now I have to call my Shanghai agent about how I’m going to be late, and that “China Eastern”, that company full of crooks, doesn’t even want to compensate my $4200 business class ticket for being 2 hours late.

“Allô ? C’est Julien, je suis enfin arrivé à Shanghai. (Hello ? It’s Julien, I’ve finally touched down at Shanghai.)” I say to my local correspondent, the one responsible for dragging me here.

- Enfin ! Ça fait une heure qu’on vous attend ! (Finally ! We’ve been waiting for you for a whole hour !)

- C’est pas ma faute ! Le vol a eu deux heures de retard à cause de soi-disants ‘vents forts’ vers la Mongolie… et ces escrocs ne veulent rien me rembourser… typique… (It’s not my fault ! The flight was two hours late due to so-called ‘powerful winds’ around Mongolia… and those crooks don’t want to reimburse me… typical…)” I answer, annoyed.

- Bon, de l’Aéroport de 浦東 (Pudong) jusqu’ici… pff… je vais devoir leur dire de revenir cet après-midi… (So, from 浦東 (Pudong) Airport to here… ugh… I need to ask them to come back this afternoon…)” He says, similarly annoyed, though seemingly flaunting his perfect pronunciation in Chinese.

- Ne râle pas sur moi, j’ai rien fait ! Je savais que j’aurais dû prendre Air France, ils n’auraient pas eu de retard comme ces asiates… (Don’t dump it on me, I did nothing ! I knew I should have gone for Air France, they wouldn’t be late like those chinks…)

- Roh… (Ugh…)” He sighs a while. “Je vais m’occuper de tout. Juste… viens aussi vite que possible. (I’ll manage. Just… come here as soon as you can.)”

I turn off the phone. As if I would waste a minute of my life… I’m Julien Blanc, and my time is money, just like the saying goes. As the heir of a multi-million dollars worth banking company, I have investments left right and center, and can’t let the next golden goose escape me.

Recently, a well-known investor, Pierre Zhang, let me know of a promising startup here in Shanghai. While at first I was understandingly skeptical, after all chinks are known for their plagiarism, I did check the project and found it to be unique, and even viable.

While I do know that Pierre Zhang is half one of them, so he does take their side much more than a regular person would, this time he saw a good opportunity. And it will be botched due to an incapable company that spouted nonsense about “strong winds” or something and was late as a result.

Angrily, I stomp in the giant airport halls, guiding myself thanks to my impeccable English – though, just don’t listen to the pronunciation. I’m stopped multiple times for security checks, and I do swear on them a couple of times, but they deserved it for wasting my time even more.

However, as I was striding in the main hall in order to find the metro station, seeing more and more of those chink hooligans, one of them shoves me to the side. He’s wearing a mask like the pussy he is, as well as a ridiculous oversized hoodie, some laughable jewelry and undistinguished sweatpants.

He’s left as soon as I turn around, meaning I can’t berate him. Youth these days are really insufferable. Where I grew up, on the Saint-Louis island in Paris, we weren’t even half as rude as today’s kids.

Scoffing, I continue rushing to the metro, though I kind of feel dizzy. Did he give me a disease or something ? When I reach the metro shoot, I see a barrier with policemen. Apparently they’re scanning for the coronavirus – they’re still doing that ? – by checking our temperature.

I go in the barrier, confident that I’ll pass the test, when suddenly, my path is blocked.

“Sorry, sir, please come with me.” Said a policewoman in her heavily accented English.

- What are you doing ! Let me go, I did nothing wrong !” I protest with a similarly accented English.

The policewoman doesn’t answer me and leads me to a small room in the airport. There, I see a bunch of other people with masks, waiting on seats. Showing me a mask, the policewoman explain :

“You may be sick. Take a mask and wait. - I’m going to be late ! Nothing’s wrong with me, just let me leave !” I say, though I don’t notice my accent shifting a little.

- Wear it or face consequences.” The policewoman insists, dangling the mask in front of my eyes. I sigh.

- Okay, but make it quick. I’ll wear 一只 (one).”

I squint my eyes. How did I say ‘one’ ? It feels incorrect, have I accidentally used French ‘un’ ?

I take the mask and wear it, still squinting. I still feel dizzy, so I guess the policewoman must have been right ? I take my phone out, wanting to send a quick message to Pierre about me being late, but something seems wrong.

When I look on my phone, there’s a weird app named 抖音 that has been installed. I don’t remember doing that. In fact, why is there even a Chinese app on my phone !

I click on it, and suddenly, videos start playing. I squint my eyes as I look at the videos of ch… Chinese people doing a variety of things. First it’s a video of a cat rubbing on someone, and that guy exclaimed “它真的是只饥渴死的猫啊！”, with then the woman filming answering, with a hurried tone “快摸它啊，你干嘛在那儿等呗？真冷啊。”. Even though I don’t understand a word that is said, I can guess that the woman is telling the guy to go rub the cat.

It’s funnier than I expected. Turns out the Chinese have more humor than I thought. Then, another video comes on, showing a guy, looking just like that punk from earlier, saying “穿这种衣服，我干嘛不会感丢人哎？(… these clothes… … lose face ?)”, and the camera pans out to a woman in a cockroach outfit. The punk continues “你已经三十岁了，为什么还在卖这种衣服了？(… thirty years old, why still buy… ?)”, the woman answers “你现在我穿什么你都要管吗？(You... right now what I wear… your business ?)”. The punk then comes back into frame, with the woman on the left, asking “没有情侣版吗？哪只手我该牵啊？(There isn’t a couple’s version ? Which hand should I hold ?). Then, the woman shows a tendril, and they hold hands like that. I smile, finding it way funnier than it should.

I don’t really notice how I understand more and more what’s on 抖音 (Douyin), though I do let myself grow limp on the waiting room chair. I guess I don’t have much regards anymore for how I look, after all I’m waiting for a coronavirus test. Nobody’s going to comment on my posture !

The next video shows three guys running, with the caption 三人跑步时能干什么 (What can three people do while running together ?), and I see how their hair bop up and down. I’ve been shaving myself bald for quite a few years, ever since I was balding too much for me to bother with hair, but seeing these guys like that makes me a bit nostalgic of that time.

Seeing them doing stupider and stupider stuff, and smiling more and more as they show bungee jumping, doing pull-ups, playing games, stir-frying and even boxing, I feel a bit weird. Like I can kind of relate, in my youth I also did crazy things, and it would absolutely be something I would have done with my friends. I scratch my head, feeling it tingle, as I continue watching the next video, not even realizing my squinting is less and less strenuous.

The videos continue trickling in, every one more humorous than the last, and I catch myself chuckling out loud multiple times. By now, I understand everything very clearly, and when a doctor comes to do a coronavirus test, I don’t even blink when he addresses me in Chinese :

“少年，请跟我进走。(Young man, please enter with me.)

- Yes, 先生。(Yes, sir.)” I answer, mixing English and Chinese.

Everything is confused as he takes me to a machine, my thoughts mixing French, English and Chinese. Even my clothes feel… less tight than they used to. Almost as if they were melting and becoming glue.

I take place in the machine and he activates it. I feel as if things become clearer while I’m in. Like, for example, why was I stressed just now ? I don’t have anything important to do right now. And why languages are mixed ? I guess it’s because it’s cooler to mix in English…

The machine stops, and I leave it, scratching my straight hair. Had I ? … no, of course not, it’s my facial hair that I shave…

The doctor hands me my piercings.

“Euh, attendez, 先生，有什么不对了…… (Er, wait, sir, there’s something that’s not right.)” I ask, mixing French and Chinese. I really feel like something is not right.

- 什么发生过了？会跟我谈一谈。(What happened ? You can discuss it with me.)

- 我……有个奇怪的感受。Est-ce que 您找到了种疾病吗？(I… have a weird feeling. Did you find some kind of disease ?)

- 没有。但是您不舒服的话我肯定会给您扑热息痛。(I didn’t. However, if you don’t feel good, I can give you some paracetamol.)” He answers me, with a helpful look.

- 该好了。Merci. (It should be good. Thank you.)”

I take the pill he gives me, and put my piercings back on as I go back in the terminal. As I walk, I feel very comfy, as if everything was alright. I look down on my large oversized hoodie with its colorful prints. I feel like I’m in my youth once again… huh, it’s so weird to say that when I’m only... 23 years old !

Suddenly, I get a phone call from a weird contact I don’t remember having, someone named 张皮尔 (Zhang Pi’er/Pierre). I accept the call :

“喂。是谁？(Hello. Who’s there ?)” I ask, with a perfect accent.

- Julien ? Pourquoi tu parles chinois ? (Julien ? Why do you speak Chinese ?)” He groans, then switches to Chinese. “是我问您是谁。是您的电话吗？(I’m the one asking you who you are. Is it your phone ?)

- 当然是。我是个富二代，为啥要偷手机啊？(Of course. I have a trust fund, why would I steal a phone ?)” I slur, my speech becoming more and more relaxed.

- 嗯……那您是谁啊？您认不认识Julien Blanc ? (Ugh… So who are you ? Do you know Julien Blanc ?)

- 是白炬亮。那你到底是谁啊？(I’m Bai Juliang. And now can you tell me who you are ?)

- 是张皮尔……嗯……听我说一下。你有没有多钱会投资？我认为了Julien Blanc要投资新项目，但你还会投资一下。有没有兴趣？(I’m Pierre Zhang… ugh… Listen. Do you have a lot of money to invest ? I thought Julien Blanc would come and invest in a new project, but you can still invest. Are you interested ?)”

I think for a while. It could be great to have some money coming from another place than my parents’ company… plus, I don’t want to have to join it, or risk being cut off from my money…

However, there’s time, I’m still young, and there’s no rush right now… Plus, having work is, like, a lot of work, and I don’t want to work… But I have an idea.

“张先生，你想不想跟我投资？我给了你钱币，你给了我专业，收入分两半。感觉好吗？(Mr. Zhang, do you want to invest with me ? I give you the funds, you give me the expertise, and we divide the profits in half. Do you like that ?)”

After a while, he answers :

“感觉好了。(I think it’s good.)”

#male transformation #male tf #white to asian #daddy to twink #racial tf #twink tf #twinkification #age reduction #mental change #reality change #transformation #tf story

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writeforfandoms · 10 months

Text

Listening In 2

Find my CoD masterlist

Soap has to work undercover at a restaurant to get info on a target, and meets a waitress he enjoys flustering. He immediately decides he wants to share her with Ghost. Four part mini series, porn then feelings.

Part two: in which Ghost gets hands-on.

This probably has Vegas vibes because I started writing it while I was in Vegas. Oops.

Warnings: swearing, waitress gets a little creeped on (not by Ghost or Soap), manhandling, Simon is pushy, praise kink, dirty talk, check ins, biting, fingering, piv sex, unexpected tenderness, bit of aftercare. This is 80% filth.

Word count: 4.6k

The mark was being uncooperative. He’d shown up to the bar multiple times, but they still hadn’t gotten the info they needed.

Not that Johnny seemed to mind - he’d taken to bartending like a duck to water. Bloody showoff. Simon snorted softly behind his balaclava as he watched Johnny entertain a few people with some bottles.

Simon’s gaze wandered from Johnny to the pretty little waitress. She was busy working, smile firmly in place. She really was pretty. And Johnny had been right - she made the prettiest noises.

Simon was tempted to find out what noises he could get her to make.

Instead he simply watched and waited to see if their mark would come in.

And he did. Half an hour later, their mark walked in and went to a table, a business associate following. It was just bad luck that the table was their waitress’s.

“Soap,” he murmured into comms, “mark is at table 42. Watch yourself.”

“Copy,” Soap murmured back.

Ghost saw the moment Soap realized the full situation - their waitress stopped at the table to take orders, and Soap tensed. But he stayed on mission and didn’t interfere, staying behind the bar where he needed to be.

Ghost was already working on audio for that table, working quickly.

And it turned out to be a good thing he did, too, even as his lips curled in disdain at what he was hearing.

“...one of my favorite places,” their mark was saying to his companion, smarmy grin clear in his voice. “The wait staff here are always… attentive.”

“I certainly hope so.” The companion’s gaze lingered on their waitress. “The uniforms certainly are a good color.”

Both men laughed at that. “You know,” the mark said, leaning in and lowering his voice just a little. Not that he needed to - the place was busy tonight, Ghost doubted anyone else could overhear them. “If one catches your eye…”

“Don’t worry, my friend,” the companion said, clapping his shoulder. “I know my business. Wouldn’t get you in trouble over a pretty little thing.” He winked, and both men laughed again. Ghost set his teeth, watching and listening.

Facial recognition came back with a match on the companion, and Ghost spared a moment to look it over. Riley Finch. Been accused of human trafficking on more than one occasion, but no solid evidence had ever been collected to put him away.

Ghost’s lips pulled in a sneer. Human trafficking, huh? Ghost had half a mind to see how Riley Finch liked being taken against his will and dumped somewhere. Preferably in a dark cell to never see the light of day again.

The next hour dragged. The two men talked business, obliquely enough that Ghost didn’t get anything actionable, just interesting. Things to follow up on.

And then Riley watched the pretty waitress go, tapping the table a couple times. “That one’s not one of your favorites, is she?”

“Nah,” the mark said, leaning back. “Too uptight for me.”

“Good.”

The mark laughed, clapping his shoulder. “Don’t get me in trouble,” he said, standing. “I’m goin’ up to the bar.”

Riley nodded, grinning. “I’ll see you later.”

The two men separated - the mark went up to the bar, where Soap had a good handle on things. Riley, however, managed to follow the waitress up to a computer station and stood there chatting with her. Ghost swore softly - he had video there but no audio.

But whatever Riley said had the waitress shrinking in on herself a little, smile nowhere to be seen, shoulders hunched. Ghost watched as she printed out a receipt and tucked it in a little black folder, shaking her head at Riley. She made her escape as fast as she could without being too obvious.

Ghost debated for a moment, watching Riley loiter. It was possible he’d give up on whatever it was he wanted.

Then again, it was possible he wouldn’t. He did have a history of being a creepy bastard.

Making his decision, Ghost quickly checked the schedule for the employees. He had half an hour. Plenty of time.

–

You pulled your coat on, glancing around as you left. You’d had creeps approach you before, you’d dealt with handsy customers and entitled men.

But something about the man earlier set you on edge, made you paranoid. It was enough to make you regret that you had to walk home alone. Even if it was only midnight.

Pulling your coat tighter around yourself and wishing you had more than pepper spray in your purse, you slipped out the back.

And nearly shrieked when you spotted a person leaning against the wall of the alleyway, clad head to toe in black, huge and hulking.

He called your name, voice rough. It was enough to have you pausing, at least. “I’m a friend of Johnny,” he said, hands out and open at his sides. Trying to be non-threatening. “He asked me to walk you home.”

You raised one eyebrow at him, shifting your weight uncertainly. “Didn’t say anything to me.”

“Said he saw that guy harassing you, wanted to make sure you’re fine.” He shifted off the wall so you could see him better, although he didn’t move towards you.

“Oh.” You warmed, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. “Um. Okay.” But you still slipped one hand in your purse, clutching your pepper spray. Not that you hoped to use it, but still. Never hurt to be careful. A few steps brought you closer to the giant man, and you frowned when you saw he was wearing a full on balaclava.

Weird, but, well… you’d seen weirder here.

“Just… don’t try anything funny.” You narrowed your eyes a little up at him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His voice was dry as dust and startled you into laughter.

He fell into step next to you as you exited the alleyway. Your fingers tightened around your pepper spray but you didn’t pull it out, instead settling for a quick (paranoid) look around before you started towards your apartment.

“What’s your name?” you asked, glancing briefly up at him before you went back to scanning your surroundings.

“Simon.”

“Simon,” you repeated, noticing the odd twitch of his shoulders. “I hope this isn’t putting you too far out of your way.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The words were gruff but not unkind.

You merged with the crowd of party-goers, not paying them any mind. At least until Simon grabbed your purse strap, pulling you firmly behind him. Well. Okay then. Your heart beat faster at that, but it wasn’t because you were scared. Or even intimidated.

So you maybe kind of had a thing for big guys tossing you around a bit. Maybe. At least hypothetically - you’d never had a chance to test it out. But based on the thrumming beneath your skin, you were thinking hell yes you had a thing for this.

He stepped to the side, keeping closer to the buildings, and you took a couple quick steps to catch up to him.

The silence was almost uncomfortable between the two of you. He didn’t seem inclined to chat, and you weren’t sure where to even start. You didn’t know him, had no idea what to even try talking about. It didn’t quite hit your anxiety, but it did make you feel awkward and more shy than normal.

You stepped off the curb between buildings and felt his hand secure around your purse strap again. But this time he didn’t yank you behind him, just kept his grip on you as you navigated through the crowd going the opposite direction.

“Doing okay back there?” you couldn’t help but ask, glancing back at him, caught between amusement and worry. The crowds could be a lot, as well you knew. You’d had a lot of trouble adapting at first.

He grunted, releasing you again once the rowdy partiers were gone. So you just kept walking.

At least you tried to, until suddenly you were being yanked in between two buildings, a firm hand around your wrist. You drew in a startled breath, eyes blowing wide, as another hand secured over the lower half of your face.

“Hush, just me,” Simon whispered, placing his bulk between you and the street. “Stay quiet.”

You pushed at his hand, alarmed, and he shot you a look before releasing you. Lifting his hand to the front of his balaclava, he mimed holding a finger to his lips for silence.

Heart hammering (and not just because of the scare of being yanked around), you leaned very carefully to look around him. And then swallowed hard.

The guy who’d near-threatened you at work was walking slowly down the street. From the opposite direction. He hadn’t followed you - he’d anticipated your route home and gotten ahead of you. You must have made a noise because Simon’s hand clamped back over your mouth, pulling you back to where you couldn’t see anything.

And where you couldn’t be seen.

Hard eyes glittered down at you, and you blinked rapidly, trying to will away scared tears. He huffed, near inaudible, and his gaze softened. A little bit. Releasing you again, he pointed firmly at you and then, yet again, made the sign for silence. You nodded shakily, twisting your fingers together.

Moments passed in complete silence but for your racing heart, much too long to be counted. You barely dared to shift your weight, let alone try to look out at the street again.

Moving slowly, Simon crowded you back, step by step, until your back hit the brick wall, catching at your clothes. You stared up at him, eyes wide, staying silent though your lips had parted. He stopped with barely any space between you, one foot between yours, hand catching your jaw. You couldn’t help the little shiver that went down your spine at the way he towered over you, easily eclipsing the rest of the world.

“Stay close,” was all he said before he stepped back, releasing you. Almost dizzy, you followed, stumbling a little on your first step. By the time you two left the alleyway, you felt steadier.

The remainder of the walk was silent, with you sticking close to Simon and occasionally giving directions.

You paused outside your building, glancing up at the big man, unsure what to do now. You were probably safe here.

But that “probably” caught in your head, left you feeling uncertain.

“Want me to walk you to your door?” The offer was quiet, yanking your gaze back to him.

You bit your lip and then nodded slowly. “If it’s no trouble?”

He huffed quietly and nodded for you to go first. You got into the elevator with a certain sense of deja vu, especially when he settled right next to you. Not across the elevator car, like any normal person. Nope, right next to you.

And you didn’t move away, didn’t tell him to move. Just stood with his warmth inches away the entire ride up to your floor.

“That one’s mine,” you said as you stepped off the elevator, pointing to your door.

Simon nodded and continued to follow you. So you unlocked the door and pushed it open, looking back to ask him if he wanted to come in.

Big hands landed on your hips, guiding you inside before turning you quickly. Your back hit the door and those hands landed on either side of your head as Simon loomed over you, caging you in.

“You like this,” he rumbled, low and dark. “Don’t you? Saw you earlier. Like it when someone throws you around? Holds you down?”

You swallowed, mind blank, heart racing. But not with fear.

“Asked you a question, dove.” He leaned in closer, one foot pushing between yours until you were quite thoroughly trapped between him and the door.

“I… maybe? I don’t… I’ve never…” You were pretty sure you were about to combust on the spot.

“Use your words, dove.”

You closed your eyes briefly, struggling, biting your lip. Your hands twisted into your skirt.

One big hand closed around both of your wrists, pulling your arms up over your head and holding you there. You gasped, eyes flying wide open again, to find his face right in front of yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, quiet and completely serious. “Tell me to back off, and I will.” He waited a beat, another. “But if you don’t say anything, I’m going to keep going until you say otherwise. Got it?”

You nodded slowly, licking your lips.

“Verbal response, dove.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly around your wrists.

“I understand.”

"Good girl." He hummed, holding you in place easily as he lowered his head to nose your skin through his balaclava. You couldn't hold back the shudder at those words, and he rumbled a low laugh. "Like that, hm? We'll add it to the list."

You squirmed a little, gasping when he lifted his knee to press his thigh between your legs.

"Need something, dove?" The smirk was clear in his voice. "Gotta ask for it."

("Easy, Simon," Johnny whispered in his ear, though the want was clear in his voice. "Take it easy on her, aye?")

You licked your lips, twisting your fingers just for something to do, some outlet for the low simmering in you. "Can I…?" You trailed off, swallowing hard.

"Go on." Simon gripped your hip with his free hand, thumb smoothing over your skin, and when had he managed to get under your shirt?

"Can I kiss you?" You closed your eyes, burning under your skin. Your heart was definitely too soft for this - you didn't want to fool around with someone unless you knew them a little better. And in this particular case, that meant you wanted to kiss Simon.

There was silence from the man in front of you for the longest moment of your life. Then a soft huff. His hand left your hip, and for a wild moment you thought he'd back off and leave.

But lips landed on yours, soft but unyielding. You gasped and he wasted no time, licking into your mouth and dominating the kiss. You made a soft noise and he pressed closer, thigh pressing between your legs and prompting another noise from you.

"Good fucking girl," he rasped, low and pleased. You blinked your eyes open a little hazily to see the balaclava falling back into place, his eyes nearly black now.

You twisted your wrists again, caught between the desire to ask him to let you go, and the urge to just… let him. It was kind of… nice. Maybe. Even just the thought had warmth gathering in your cheeks and elsewhere.

"You do like this." His grip tightened ever so slightly, pulling your hands further up until you were up on your tiptoes, held firm between him and the door. "Fuck, dove. Too tempting."

"Is that good or bad?" The question slipped out without your permission, and you nearly choked on your tongue. "I–sorry, I didn't mean–"

"It's a good thing." Simon tipped his head, watching you closely. "You have no idea how good you look, do you?"

You couldn't answer that, just swallowing hard. But you didn't struggle.

He hummed, thoughtful. "Bet you'll look even better in bed." He pulled away from you suddenly enough that you swayed, but his hands kept you steady. “Which door?”

“This one.” Still reeling a little, you walked into your bedroom. Frankly, you were amazed you stayed upright, between the desire pooling between your legs and the mortification trying valiantly to get a grip on your head. “I–Are you sure–”

Simon’s hands landed on your hips again from behind, pulling you back into his chest. “Am I sure I want this?” he murmured, low and raspy. “I’m very sure, dove. Been sure since I saw you.”

Heat flared and you squirmed a little, unsure what to do with your hands. (It’s not like you did this often. Or ever. Johnny had been the first time in a long time, and that was very different from this.)

“Want help getting rid of these?” Simon tugged at your shirt and skirt, clothed nose brushing against your cheek.

“I… maybe?” You hated how uncertain you sounded.

Simon must have heard it too because he slowed, hands rubbing small, warm circles into your hips. “You can always say no,” he rumbled. “Always. Right?”

“Right,” you breathed, somehow reassured. “Then… Yes. Please.”

“Good girl.” He hummed, fingers making quick work of the buttons on your shirt, though he left it hanging open for now. Your skirt puddled on the floor at your feet moments later. "Now, unless you tell me to stop, I'm gonna ravish that gorgeous neck, and I'm going to fuck you."

The sound you made was embarrassingly loud, and your eyes slammed closed in mortification. But Simon just groaned softly, his hands on your hips pulling your back tight to his front so you could feel his bulge.

"Too sweet, dove," he rumbled into your ear, pulling you into a slow grind back against him. "Gonna let me ruin you?"

You gasped as his fingers shoved your panties down, straying over the newly-bared skin. "Y-yes."

Your shirt hit the floor on the other side of the room, and a moment later your bra followed. Teeth nipped at the skin just behind your ear as those big, warm hands cupped your breasts.

"Let's see how loud you can be for me," he growled, breath warm on your ear, before he bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your yelp caught somewhere between pain and desire, and you didn't want to admit how much you enjoyed that.

Between his fingers toying with your nipples and his teeth leaving marks in your neck, it didn't take long for you to start whimpering, squirming against him and reaching one hand back behind you. You paused when your fingers touched the fabric of his balaclava, hesitating.

"Just don't pull it off," he grunted, lips barely parting from your skin. "But if you need something to hold on to…" His hands slid back down to your hips, guiding you forward. You sucked in a breath when he more or less gently pushed you forward until your knees bumped your bed. One big hand at the nape of your neck guided your head down until your hands hit the bed and fisted in the blankets, holding you upright. "Fuckin' perfect, dove."

You squirmed again, far too warm, aching for more. "Simon…"

"Easy, dove." His hand smoothed from the nape of your neck all the way down your back in one long stroke, easy and warm. "I got ya." His teeth set against the nape of your neck, making you shiver, even as one big finger pressed into you. Your high-pitched noise would have been embarrassing if you had the brain power to think. As it was, everything had narrowed down to the two of you and your bed.

And then he bit down on the knob of your spine and you whined, arching your back and pushing yourself back on his finger. The low sound he made vibrated against your skin.

"Fuck," you gasped, fingers curling tighter in the blankets, dropping your head. "Big fingers."

He chuckled, low and rumbling, nudging his nose against the mark undoubtedly blooming on your skin. "Better get used to it," he growled, sliding a second finger in.

You gasped, wiggling your hips. Even just two fingers was a bit of a stretch, but it felt good. He felt good. Even the pain seemed to heighten the pleasure, making you more aware. His fingers curled in you, pulling a high moan from your throat.

"Could listen to you all night," he breathed against the skin of your back. He nipped at one spot, sharp and stinging, followed by a soothing swipe of his tongue.

"Maybe not all night," you muttered and then squeaked at a harder thrust from his fingers.

"Still have the energy to mouth off, huh?" He sounded amused, free hand sliding around to your front and down. "See how long that lasts." He scissored his fingers in you, stretching you wider, before setting a relentless pace. You quickly lost what little coherence you had, hips moving with his fingers, jerking when he pressed against your clit. "Much better," he purred low against your skin.

Your elbows gave out, sending your face into the bed and muffling your whines. His fingers just felt too good, hitting all the right spots in you and filling you deliciously.

"One more, dove," he murmured, lips trailing up behind your ear. "You can take it."

He didn't give you time to object (not that you would have), sliding a third finger in you. You gasped and shivered hard, eyelashes fluttering, pushing your hips back onto his fingers. You were so close, whining softly.

"Good fucking girl," he growled, low and rasping just behind your ear.

You gasped as your orgasm washed over you, clenching down tight around his fingers. His fingers didn't slow in you until you were whining from overstimulation, trying to jerk your hips away. Then he pulled his fingers from you with a lewd noise.

"Still want more?" He asked, almost gentle. His lips brushed the shell of your ear.

"Just… gimme a sec," you murmured, still panting. Your thighs felt a little quivery.

One big hand smoothed down your back. "Take your time," he murmured.

You calmed slowly, listening to him behind you. You could hear his buckle clink, then a rip of plastic.

"Better?" Simon asked softly, his hand coming back to the nape of your neck.

"Mmhm." You blinked slowly, warmth curling in your belly again.

"Move up." He tapped your thigh, gently guiding you up until you were on your hands and knees on the bed. His weight dipped the mattress behind you, his gaze an almost physical weight.

You breathed slowly, tipping your head to glance back at him. He hadn't undressed, just pushing his pants and boxers out of the way, condom already on.

"Ready?" He asked, hand squeezing your hip.

For a moment, just a moment, you wondered what the hell you were doing. You didn't do stuff like this. But, well, he'd already been so good with his fingers…

So you nodded, bracing yourself a little more firmly. "Ready."

"Atta girl." He leaned down, the brief press of a kiss to the top of your spine surprising you, before he shifted behind you. The tip of his cock notched into place, and you tried to focus on your breathing as he pushed into you, slow and steady. The angle let you feel all of him, and you couldn’t hold back your moan if you tried. His hips pressed into your ass and he stilled, giving you a few moments.

“Simon–” you started, only to gasp as he pulled back, just as slow and steady.

“Yes, dove?” He sounded smugly amused, hands firm on your hips.

“Fuck,” you hissed, trying to squirm and only succeeding in getting him to hold you tighter.

“Gettin’ there.” His hips hit your ass again, still moving slow. This was a unique kind of torture, letting you feel him and do nothing else.

“Simon, please,” you begged, trying to move your hips back against him.

“Easy, dove.” Lips landed on the back of your shoulder, surprisingly tender. And then he bit down and you yelped, the pain-pleasure making you clench around him. His groan vibrated against your skin, the best kind of feedback loop. “Too tempting. You want more?”

“Please.” You tipped your head to look back at him, not that you could see much - he’d pulled his mask up across his nose.

He hummed acknowledgement and sat up again, holding still for a moment, adjusting his grip on you. Then he slammed into you, hard and fast, and you shouted. He didn’t relent even a little, holding you exactly where he wanted as he pounded into you. You could do nothing but hold tight to the sheets, keening. You could feel him so deep, almost achingly so, constantly riding the edge of pleasure and too much.

He hissed out a curse and one of his hands moved, looping under you and across your chest to grab your opposite shoulder. You were about to ask what he was doing when he hauled you upright until you were leaning back into his chest, thighs spread wide over his. You choked on a gasp, one hand grabbing his forearm, your other reaching behind you for his hip. Based on the plush give under your fingers, you got his ass instead.

Not that he minded, judging from the way his hips thrust up into you.

“You’re gonna come just like this,” he growled in your ear, low and filthy, even as the hand on your hip slid lower and inwards until his fingers could press against your clit. His arm banded across your chest kept you from falling forward again with the force of his thrusts, and you tipped your head back against his shoulder.

“Please,” you gasped, fingers tightening around him, nails digging into his skin.

He groaned, low and rough, ducking his head enough to bite under your ear. It felt like he was everywhere - reaching so deep you half-thought he’d leave an imprint of himself behind, solid and hot against your back, fingers holding tight to your shoulder. He rubbed tight circles over your clit and you came with a high whine, shuddering against him.

“Atta girl,” he muttered with a low groan. “Fuck!” He bit down on your shoulder, his hips stuttering before pressing up into you and stilling.

You loosened your grip on him, blinking slowly as you calmed. “Sorry,” you murmured, stroking over the nail marks you’d left on his arm.

He chuckled, holding you steady still. “Don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Still.” You gently tugged his arm until he released you with an amused huff. But you lifted his arm to kiss the marks. His breathing hitched behind you.

“Well, if that’s how you apologize, won’t say no to that.” He was amused, his other hand patting your thigh.

You smiled and kissed his palm. You couldn’t resist. “Need me to move?”

“Nah. You’re good.” He freed his hand, tugging his mask back into place.

This was… actually kind of nice. Feeling him soften inside you. Hmm. Something to explore later, maybe.

Yeah. As if you’d ever have an opportunity like this again.

But you did move after a minute, very carefully moving off of him before flopping face-first onto the bed.

He huffed a laugh, patting your ass. “Don’t smother yourself,” was all he said before he stood, the bed shifting with his movement. You didn’t look, giving him a bit of privacy until you heard the bathroom door close. Then you tossed your clothes in the laundry bin and pulled on a sleep shirt.

He emerged looking like nothing had happened, clothes righted. You kind of regretted that - you wanted some evidence on him, like he’d left at least a dozen marks on you. But you squashed that desire down, smiling up at him.

“Thank you. For walking me home.” You paused. “And for all the rest.”

He huffed another laugh. “Any time, dove. Keep outta trouble.”

You locked the front door again after he was gone and then stood there for a moment, back to the door, thinking back over the events of the night. Wow. Just wow.

Not that you were objecting.

–

“Simon,” Johnny growled into his ear. “Ye right bastard.”

“Distracted?” Simon purred, very smug as he walked back to their apartment.

“I still have to close,” Johnny hissed. “Fuck. Fuck! Those sounds…”

“You were right.” Simon grinned under his balaclava. “She does make the sweetest sounds.”

#listening in #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #18+#minors begone #simon ghost riley x johnny soap mactavish

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magicalbats · 5 months

Text

Sanctuary

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,874

Warnings: sacrilegious content, monster fucking, tentacle/tongue fucking, brief throat fucking, reader is a nun so take that as you will

A/N: this is my very first commission ever and I had a blast working on it so I asked if I could share it with everyone! I went through and removed the identifiers for their OC but otherwise its exactly the same. I'm going to make a comms page later on for anyone interested so keep an eye out for that, and please enjoy! ❤️

⭐

Snow flurries around your face and buffets the skin to leave your cheeks feeling raw as you peer out over the assembled crowd. There’s a restlessness that hangs over the multitude of heavily bundled bodies lined up in the town square but order had largely been maintained all morning. It was mostly a variety of women in differing sizes, shapes and ages, which tended to help in that regard, while the occasional man was either old, sick or otherwise unfit for the labor needed to support themselves. These people relied heavily, sometimes exclusively, on the church’s community efforts to keep themselves afloat. You could even make out a few small children among the masses where you were standing; antsy from waiting and fussy with hunger, and who were starting to get on their accompanying parents' last nerves by the looks of it.

Cloak whipping in the frigid wind, you shift behind the table where two other Sisters were diligently working to ladle out the porridge and pass out thick slices of bread quickly enough to keep the line moving at a reasonable pace. You were technically supposed to be on break after standing in the same spot for hours, your dominant wrist giving a muted throb from overuse when you take up the spare baler spoon and dip it into the massive pot, but you were having a hard time walking away. You usually did, though. Some might accuse you of taking your responsibilities a little too seriously at times but you liked to think of it more as simply being pertinacious. It was better to toe the line of overzealous than to be apathetic or indifferent to the plights of others, after all, and you couldn’t think of anyone more in plight than hungry children.

Speculatively, Sister Darya eyes the bowl you fill and set aside before starting to spoon out another serving into a second dish. She sends you a sidelong glance even while her hands continue to work through the monotonous motions. Dip, pour, pass across the table. Dip, pour, pass across the table. She doesn’t have to look to ensure every moving piece ends up exactly where it needs to be, and the line keeps moving without interruption even as she sets her prickly sights on you.

“Back so soon, Sister? Perhaps we should have you chained to the nearest bench to ensure you take your breaks when you’re supposed to.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You respond with a cool indifference, unperturbed by the pointed stare she gives you when you reach to fill a third bowl. “I’ll go take my rest once I give these to the children. Surely you won’t find any complaint in that?”

Sister Darya draws a careful breath and lets it out with a sigh. When she speaks next, it’s very soft so that only you might hear her quiet response. “They are supposed to wait in line just like everyone else. Those are the rules. Do not give me that look, Sister. You know as well as I do what lows the starving and the sick will sink to.”

“Then I will take care to ensure nothing of the sort comes of it.” Stamping down the flare of annoyance that sparks in your chest, you stiffly drop the baler back to the table. The older woman narrows her sharp beady eyes at you in warning yet you pay it little mind.

Quickly shoving a spoon into each of the four bowls you’ve prepared, you juggle the dishes into your hands and step out from behind the table. You can barely catch the sound of her grumbling something to the other nun stationed with her as you walk away but aren’t quite able to make out what’s being said. No matter though. She’d never been particularly fond of you and the feeling was decidedly mutual. Nothing that happened here today was going to change that.

The first child you manage to track down in the crowd is on the verge of tears, fitfully tugging at his mothers skirts while he asks her how much longer it will be. She has her hands full with a mewling infant, swaddled and bundled in so many layers that it takes the use of both hands to properly hold onto the bulky mass, and she could not offer him much comfort aside from gentle reassurances that it would be soon. One look at the tired, heavy bags under her eyes vindicates your decision. These people needed help, and you wouldn’t sit idly by if there was something that could be done for them.

Sweeping closer to the pair, you keep your voice gentle even as you project it enough to be heard over the general din. “Do not cry, little man. You must be strong for your mother and your new sibling, isn’t that right? Look at what I have for you.”

Red faced from the snow and the wind, he turns to glance up at you from under the brim of his wide, fur lined cap. The green of his irises seems to swim with valiantly held back tears but they clear almost immediately when he sees the bowl you carefully offer out to him. They appear to you like crystalline lakes turned dazzling with the azure sheen of algae, and you give him your best smile when he eagerly reaches out to accept the porridge in his tiny gloved hands.

Her expression morphing from one of surprise to immense gratitude, the mother ducks her head in quick thanks. “May the Cryo Archon bless you, Sister. Your kindness means much to me and my children.”

“Speak not another word of it. You’re almost to the front of the line now, so you’ll be able to fill your stomach soon. Please take care.”

With a brief nod of acknowledgment, you move on. There’s another child a few paces down, this one a young girl curled up in the arms of her father as if in search of warmth as much as comfort, and you tell them much the same. That they were almost to the front of the queue and he gives his words of thanks as his daughter shyly accepts the bowl you hand to her. Left with still two more to pass out, you work your way further back in the line while assuring the waiting adults that there was enough for everyone to be fed and to just be patient.

Empty handed after finding a pair of brothers solemnly standing in line together, you start to retrace your path towards the table again. You’d spotted a few more kids and you wanted to make the burden of waiting a bit more bearable for them as much as for their parents, but a small scuffle up near the front pulls your gaze and demands your attention first. Your strides turn purposeful now as you make a beeline for the commotion. What you come upon gives you pause, though.

The green eyed boy from before was picking himself up off the ground and trying very hard not to let the hiccuping sobs that shake his shoulders get the better of him. His bowl of porridge was spilled in the barren dirt and frozen mud. A gnarled looking man in a tattered coat was bending to retrieve the fallen dish, mumbling something unkind under his breath while the mother juggles the baby in her arms and frets over her fallen son. At first you think it an accident, the kind of misstep that could happen all too easily when there were so many people crammed together in a single place. But then, to your surprise, the surly man straightens up with the bowl, dips his fingers into what bit of porridge meal was still sticking to the interior and pops them into his mouth.

You see an instant flash of red behind your eyes.

“What is the meaning of this?” You demand, closing the distance at a rapid pace now. “Horrid scoundrel, do you truly intend to repay the Holy Mothers kindness and generosity by stealing from a child? Does that seem right to you?”

The sallow faced man glances up at your approach, takes one look at the black veil covering your hair and scoffs before turning from you. It was clear he thought little of you and your opinions on the matter, and he disinterestedly begins to walk away with his spoils still in hand. Temper flaring just a pinch more, you lengthen the stride of your steps. You brush right past the mother and her children. Reach out with grasping fingers and snag the back of the man’s ratty coat. He aggressively spins around to snap at you, but you were ready with some choice words of your own.

“How dare you! To think that anyone in our great motherland would behave like an uncivilized animal!” You practically spit up at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself for carrying on in this manner when there is plenty to go around for everyone. What have you got to say, huh?”

“I don’t have nothing to say to you, crazy bitch. Let go! Before I get mad!”

A chorus of horrified gasps erupts around you, but you only tighten your hold on him even when his coat is so grimy and unkempt it makes your skin itch. You’re distantly aware of the crowd shuffling behind you, no doubt considering the possible ramifications of stepping in or not, but there was a hesitation when so many of them were women with little to no able bodied men to help. It was only natural, and you didn’t blame them for it. You blamed this no good lout for causing such an unpleasant scene in the first place and you weren’t about to let him get off that easily for being such an inconvenient nuisance to everyone.

“I will not let you go. You owe that boy and his mother an apology, sir. Come, I will even stand with you to lessen the embarrassment you have to face.”

Becoming more aggressive by the second, he violently tries to yank out of your grip. You hold fast though, and only stumble a step before pulling back on his coat with everything you’ve got. He seemed annoyed more than anything else though, and he rounds on you again to loom over your much slighter frame in an obvious display of intimidation as he bellows, “I’m warning you, let me go! Now!”

“And I am warning you, come apologize to them or you will not like how this is going to end.”

His face growing red in anger, he tries once again to forcefully shrug you off. But when that doesn’t work he brings his hand up in a quick arc, clenching it into a tight fist. You barely have enough time to process it’s even happening and then it — harmlessly sails right over your head.

Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, you watch in mute disbelief as he’s roughly dragged back a handful of steps by an arm wrapped around his neck. The destitute man flails and kicks, grunting when he drops the bowl so he can reach up to claw at the limb cutting off his air supply. It’s useless though. Whoever was holding onto him had a grip as good as iron, evidently, and you catch a burst of coppery-brown hair behind him as he slowly starts to drain of energy and sag. One moment he’s wildly thrashing to get loose and the next he’s … going limp with a wet little gurgle.

You catch your first glimpse of the young man — your heroic savior, as it were — when he bends to deposit the vagrant onto the cold ground without much concern for where or how he might land. His burden hitting the dirt with a bodily thump, he lifts his attention to you. You’re instantly struck by the intense blue of his eyes, and your breath catches in shock.

Was he really human?

“Are you alright, miss? Sorry I didn’t make it here sooner.” Straightening again, he wipes his gloved hands together as if ridding them of dirt after a messy job. Then he steps over the prone man on long, somewhat gangly legs so he can come closer. “When someone said there was a disturbance going on at the church’s food drive I came as fast as I could. I hope you’re not hurt?”

Rousing from your initial disquiet, you take in the whole of him rather than just the strange eyes staring at you in question. You recognize the military uniform immediately, and bob a quick curtsy as was customary when dealing with someone of his station. “Worry not, good sir. I am unharmed and I have you to thank for that. I’d say you were just in time, in fact.”

The young soldier gives you an abrupt, dazzling smile that is so filled to the brim with boyish charm it almost gives you pause. He was handsome, yes, but he also looked like a troublemaker of the highest order. Certainly not someone you would need or want to find yourself mixed up with no matter how good looking he was or how pleasantly symmetrical his features were.

“It was my pleasure, of course, Sister …?”

You lift your chin and tell him your name.

He slowly repeats your name, as if savoring the feel of it on his tongue and the way the syllables curl inside his mouth. “Well, Sister, although I was all too happy to offer my assistance, you still played an admirable part too. Thanks to you I didn’t have to go chasing this guy down. I owe you my thanks as well.”

“Save it.” You sigh, giving your head a brief shake. “I was only doing what’s right. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to the boy he stole from and get him another bowl of food.”

Decisively turning on your heel, expecting that to be the end of it, you start to walk away. To your great surprise, though, he quickly falls into step beside you.

“I’m Ajax, by the way.”

“A lovely name.” You don’t miss a beat but, rather than discouraging him with your indifferent tone, it just makes his grin grow even wider.

“I can help you.” He says it so point blank and matter of fact that for a split second you’re not quite sure what he even wants to lend you a hand with. And that was to say nothing of the why.

“Although I certainly appreciate the offer, I think you’ve helped plenty for one day.” Turning your head, you steal a quick glance back at the unconscious man still lying out on the ground. The boy with the green eyes was spitefully kicking dirt at him and, much like his mother, you willfully chose to ignore it. While it wasn’t exactly good or proper behavior, you figured he was entitled to a tiny bit of payback for what he’d endured. “Shouldn’t you be escorting that gentleman to the jailhouse right about now? Surely that is a much more pressing matter for you than feeding the sick and hungry.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be waking up anytime soon and I’m sure another officer will happen by any minute now to take care of it.”

You send him a slow, curious look, but he doesn’t seem the slightest bit put out. “That’s an odd thing to say, isn’t it? As a young man in her majesty the Tsaritsa’s army I would have thought you’d jump at the chance for recognition of such a good deed.”

He casually waves that off with a chuckle. “Ah, who really cares about recognition anyway? I’m much more interested in doing what I enjoy than making decisions based on what will earn me merit.”

Something told you that was only a very small fraction of the bigger picture. He was still young and clearly impulsive, so you didn’t doubt that he truly was far more inclined to do only what he found worthy of his efforts to pursue. It wasn’t your place to comment on that though, nor did you want to humor how that applied to you in the here and now by giving it any deeper thought than that.

Ignoring Sister Darya’s incensed glare, you pause at the corner of the church’s food drive table and turn to face your dogged shadow. This man, this soldier named Ajax, obediently halts just within arms reach and looks at you with an expectant, almost puppy-like eagerness as if waiting for the next command to fall from your lips. You may have found it cute otherwise, but you weren’t about to encourage him in any way. It wasn’t in your nature to knowingly lead people on and unlike some of the other Sister’s in the order you didn’t derive any such pleasure from doing so. You’d have to be blunt then.

“I thank you again for your assistance,” You pointedly intone. “But I cannot allow you to waste your time taking on the church’s work. Her majesty has greater expectations of you than handing out bowls of porridge. You have your responsibilities and I have mine. We would both do well to remember that.”

He doesn’t look half as dejected by that as you’d hoped he would, his boyish grin only taking on a frustratingly sly edge now. “Aww, don’t tell me this is your way of sending me off into the cold again.”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t have time to entertain anyone, you understand.”

Those odd eyes of his dance before you as he gives you a quick, appraising glance up and down to take in your shuddering cloak and the fluttering veil atop your head. But it strikes you once again as being strange, how his irises don’t seem to reflect the light at all. Rather they almost seem to swallow it up like a void. You’d initially thought it a mere trick of the senses brought about by the heavy charcoal clouds hanging overhead but … even now, even standing near the cackling flame over which the pot of porridge was simmering, there still was no reflection to be found in his eyes. It was a little unsettling, if you were being honest.

Just what was he?

“You break my heart, Sister. Is it not also the responsibility of a soldier to see that the needs of the people he serves are met? Lending the church a hand would be nothing short of a great honor for me.”

You set your mouth in a firm, unamused line. “I’m afraid I’m not fool enough to believe that when you just told me you’re not interested in doing things simply for merit. You’ve got an ulterior motive in volunteering your services and I’m not interested in such games.”

A quick laugh huffs out of him as he lifts a hand to place it emphatically over his heart. “You wound me, Sister! What do you take me for, huh?”

“Someone who’s time would be much better spent escorting that vagabond away from the food drive before he wakes up and starts causing more trouble for us, that’s what.”

“Fair enough.” Shoulders shaking with laughter, he pauses to give you another glance over from the top of your head down to the toes of your smart leather boots. You’re acutely aware of the other Sister’s watching on in rapt fascination and morbid curiosity, as well as the townsfolk standing close enough to the front of the line to eavesdrop, but you firmly stand your ground. There would be time to feel embarrassed by this scene later, in the privacy of your own dorm.

At length, Ajax finally gives his head a shake. “I didn’t know they made Sisters like you.”

“They don’t. I’m all of my own making.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He finally falls back a step with a brief nod of acknowledgment. Allowing himself one final look at you, Ajax turns away with one last word of parting. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sister. I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again soon.”

Standing there in the cold and the chaffing wind, and the flurry of snow, you watch him walk away. You think you could go your whole life without having another run in with him and it would still be too soon. It wasn’t that he was just a bit strange even for a young, headstrong soldier. There was something genuinely peculiar about him. Even putting aside the way he’d kept looking at you, there was still a sense of undesirability about the whole situation. From a nuns perspective he presented a multitude of problems, the least of which being temptation that did not fall in line with your vows.

Turning your head to look at the others when he bends to retrieve the culprit from the ground and save him from the agitated rumblings of the antsy crowd, you spare Sister Darya a withering scowl. “I don’t want to hear a word about it.”

The way her eyes flash at you in mute disapproval seems to say ‘I told you so’ but you adamantly ignore it in favor of reaching for another bowl to fill. At the rate you were going it was starting to look like you’d never get that break.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything seems so normal that at first you almost don’t even realize it’s a dream.

Some distant part of you knows you’d been so tired from the food drive that you’d fallen asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow after taking a nice, long bath to rid yourself of the permanent Snezhnayan chill. But you were glad for the normalcy of it, content to meander your way through whatever your resting subconscious decided to conjure up. The first scene is a field of wildflowers that does not exist in the ice and snow of your motherland. It’s peaceful there and quiet. A welcome haven of tranquility which you dreamed of with some frequency.

You’re more than a little disappointed when it suddenly changes to the town square. One moment you’d been picking dandelions to weave into a wreath for your hair, and the next you were standing in the middle of a cold barren wasteland. The streets were empty around you, the houses dark and silent. The flowers wilt in your hands. Dropping them, you turn in a circle to survey your surroundings. Nothing looked out of place aside from the total lack of people, or even any dogs or cats roaming the area. No birds, either.

Without a particular destination in mind, you start to walk. A part of you hoped the scenery would change again and morph into a more pleasing visage around you, but that’s not what happens. It feels like you spend many minutes just walking up and down the empty streets like a lost ghost, each step its own eternity. Every breath its own death rattle. A niggling thought in the back of your mind whispers of danger, warns of something being not quite right, and yet you don’t retrace your path back to the starting point in the square. Like there was an invisible string tugging you along, you follow its suggestive pull straight through town to the church.

Despite finding this rather strange, even for a dream, you open the door and go inside without pause.

The sanctuary is just as desolate and deserted as everywhere else had been. You hadn’t seen so much as a suggestion of another living being, human or otherwise, and still the string tugs. Trance-like and spellbound, you follow the exigent summons through the grounds; past altars and holy relics, and pews and the baptistery, out into the courtyard. You cross over bare frozen ground to the monastery. Up the long flight of stairs and down the empty hall until you reach the door to your own room.

This is the first thing that gives you any real amount of hesitation but the string just pulls harder. Like a puppet under the guidance of a masterful biloquist, your hand comes up to grab the knob. You watch yourself turn it and then swing the door open. Your skin prickles with static electricity when you cross the threshold but this, too, is empty. Having half expected to walk in and find your own sleeping form huddled on top of the narrow bed, you’re strangely disappointed to find the sheets neatly made and smoothed out. They looked like they would never be disturbed again, as if the room itself had been plucked out of reality and then frozen in time and space.

You feel the string slip away then, as you’re standing just inside the doorway looking over your bed, and a rattling breath puffs out of you at its loss. It leaves you trembling with newfound life, as if whatever force served to guide you here had sedated your mind and body alike to encourage compliance. Now, though, you were suddenly acutely aware of just how disconcerting the trek here had actually been. How heavy and oppressive the static charged air really is.

Hands clenching and unclenching at your sides to restore feeling in them, you cautiously step around the room. It was not a large space and you were able to complete a full circuit in only ten steps. The bed took up a vast majority of the capacity. Your writing desk took up most of the rest. Suspiciously, you even bend to peer under the metal frame that holds the mattress, but there’s nothing there. It was just as void of life as everywhere else.

When you straighten up again something in the single small window in the room catches your attention. You squint at it a moment but your eyes can’t quite make out what it is, so you step closer. There’s a thin layer of condensation coating the glass and, thinking perhaps that was what was obstructing your view, you reach up to wipe it away. The very real sensation of cold, wet moisture under your fingers startles you more than you’d like to admit. Your foggy mind reels and stumbles over the visceral thought.

And then your eyes adjust.

A dull, muted burst of copper. Red horns. It wasn’t outside amongst the trees and the buildings, and the dark overcast sky. It was behind you.

Holding yourself achingly stiff, you slowly turn around. You’re not really sure how you maintain your cool when every inch of your skin was crawling with a violent eruption of goosebumps but you’re exceedingly glad for it as you set your sights on the monster in the doorway. It’s not just large, it’s huge. You think it must be over seven feet tall, perhaps even pushing eight, and it takes up the whole frame with its massive stature. It seems implausible for something of that size to move around as silent as any soft footed cat, but you’re positive you hadn’t heard a single sound. If this was just a figment of your imagination, you sorely hoped it would dissolve away into nothing very soon.

What you think must be its eye just stares at you though, unblinking and unmoving. This tense stand-off lasts so long, in fact, that your frightened adrenaline eventually starts to wear off bit by bit, leaving you feeling somewhat disoriented in the aftermath. Was it even alive? Had your taxed mind and body really summoned the likeness of a horrible monster just to terrorize you in your dreams? And, perhaps most perplexing of all, why did it spark a distant note of familiarity in the dregs of your memory? Almost like you’d seen it or something like it recently, but that couldn’t be true. Certainly you never would have been able to forget such a creature as this …

You just start to toy with the notion of slipping around it to get back out into the hall when it sedately lifts its arm. Frozen in place by a fresh surge of uncertainty and fear, you watch it push the door so that it swings shut with an almost casual motion. The click of the latch catching sounds like the heavy swing of an executioner's blade.

“You came.”

Its deep, raspy voice seems to reverberate in the very air itself and, finally unable to keep your nerves in check any longer, you take a stumbling step back to press into the wall. Your heart threatens to jackhammer straight out of your chest as you frantically try to process the situation. Not only was it very much alive and capable of interacting with the environment, it could also talk. You’re not sure why that disturbs you as much as it does but there’s no denying how your stomach painfully cramps with sinking dread now. Every fiber of your being thrums with the desire to run and flee, to hide from this monster, and yet you knew you were trapped in here with it. Even if you’d wanted to make an attempt at the now closed door the room was much too small. You’d never get around it.

All you can do is quake when it takes a deliberately slow step forward before stopping again. Just looking at you. Gauging your reaction, perhaps? You didn’t really care about any of that.

“What are you?” It’s little more than a frightened whisper.

“Think of me as a god come to collect on what is rightfully mine.”

Your spine snaps straight even as a disconcerted shudder races through you. “You are no god, foul beast. You’re a demon.”

The thing laughs, low and hoarse. “Close, but not quite. You may call me Foul Legacy. Or, if you would prefer, ‘master’ will suffice just as well for your role.”

“I will call you no such thing!” You hiss in indignant affront.

“You will.” It assures you, taking another controlled step closer. “If I command it of you, your only choice will be to obey. If I tell you to get on your knees and worship me then that is what you will do. I told you, didn’t I? I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”

You start to open your mouth to protest but your words fail you, and you slowly close it again. Frantically now, your wide eyed gaze scans the room looking for any sliver of hope for escape. You were cornered against the wall though. You’d never make it past this thing, and the window was much too small for you to crawl through even if it stopped long enough to let you get it open. The window …

Stealing a split second glance at the rectangle of glass just next to your head, you confirm your suspicions. The streaks left behind in the wake of your hand were still there. The cool condensation had felt undeniably real under your skin which meant, at least to some extent, this dream was a tangible one. Or maybe it would’ve been more accurate to call it a hallucination? It didn’t matter.

If this was real enough to touch then that must have meant the monster was too. It was a slim chance but maybe you could fight your way past it and get away …

“Are you so unimpressed with this form that you allow your mind to wander?” The creature remarks, but it doesn’t sound surprised or even offended at this fact. More than anything, it almost sounds amused and that is what ultimately steels your resolve. It’s mistake would be underestimating you.

“I was merely thinking how best to convey my lack of interest in you, oh great demon lord.” You volley back rather primly. “You don’t exactly look like a man, but you are shaped like one … I wonder if a good kick between the legs might get the message across.”

The fiery haired thing throws its head back and laughs. You almost lose your nerve, but you valiantly cling to that tiny spark of courage you still had left. Cautiously, you start to edge your way down the wall.

“Splendid! I would expect nothing less from my future bride! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

Stilling, you widen your eyes at it. “Your what?”

You realize your mistake a moment too late. When you should have kept moving towards the desk for the most direct path to the door you’d instead allowed it to give you pause. Even though it lasts for but a single heartbeat that’s more than enough time for the monster to act.

It’s on you in the blink of an eye. Grabbing under your arms, it hauls you straight up off your feet like you weighed nothing at all. The sudden rush of movement, the unexpected press of huge, clawed hands curling around your ribcage shocks a sharp gasp out of you. But before you have a chance to do anything else, it shoves you back into the wall with a bodily thud that makes the old rafters tremble. The impact doesn’t hurt, not really — not as much as it could have, given how strong the creature evidently is — and you just gape down at its horrid face in stunned disbelief.

You'd barely even seen it move …

“Oh, that look of surprise is quite charming on you.” It rasps, snickering low under its breath. “I knew I could rip that frigid mask away with enough time. I wonder how else you’re going to warm up for me …”

“W - what are you —“

The words trail off into nothing when the lower half of its jaw hinges open, and a long, snake-like tongue slips out to waggle tauntingly in the thin space separating you from it. Bile rises in your throat as you bring your hands up to claw desperately at its forearms but it doesn’t even seem to notice. That dreadful appendage just keeps unfurling out of its mouth, dripping threads of saliva here or there that land on the floor with soft little plops that make your stomach roil. Trying very hard not to panic, you futilely turn your head away from it.

“Do not fear what I offer you, little nun. I have every intention of making sure you enjoy this just as much as I do.”

It licks you then, that slimy tongue swiping up the side of your face from chin to temple. The wet, quickly cooling stripe it leaves behind makes you choke in disgust. You think it’s reminiscent of a dog, almost, that was much too eager to show its affection to stop long enough and consider how the recipient might feel about it. In the same breath you have the niggling thought that this was not the first time you’ve been reminded of dogs today. Before you have a chance to connect the pieces, the monster speaks again.

“You really will make the most lovely bride, you know. I’m eager to see you with my mark.”

“I rebuke it!” You snap, struggling anew against its hold. “I rebuke you, foul creature! My faith will protect me and - -“

“Hah! I’d like to see that, Sister.”

You go stock still when it says your name, and your heart skips across your ribs like a rock skimming over the surface of a lake. It felt just as heavy too, in that moment.

But the monster doesn’t give you a chance to recover and that heinous tongue flicks across your cheek to rudely slip inside your mouth. You shriek around the abrupt intrusion, eyes wide and unseeing, as the length of it just keeps coming. It squirms and wriggles its way towards the back of your throat almost too quickly for you to react. Running on instinct now, you viciously snap your teeth down but all the creature does is let out a shuddering groan of pleasure, as if it liked the pain. Your jaw loosens in surprise as much as confusion, and it takes quick advantage of that to shove its tongue straight down your gullet.

You gag on it, heaving with a violent wrench as your throat is penetrated. Tears spring up in your eyes but you can’t even scream with it blocking your airway like this. Helpless to do anything else, you just hang there and try not to pass out while it reaches deeper and deeper into you, through your esophagus almost straight down to your guts. It pauses there, giving you a moment to fully process the sensation of your whole body writhing on its tongue, before gradually starting to withdraw back the way it had come. It’s a sick, claustrophobia inducing sensation that only seems to double down when you dry heave and choke around it but, at last, it slips free of your constricting throat, and you suck in a wretched mouthful of air.

Ignoring the way you cough and spit up bubbling sheets of drool, the horned beast takes a moment to swirl its tongue around the interior of your mouth; feeling along the roof, over your tongue, tracing the outline of each individual tooth straight back to your molars. You shudder and heave, struggling to even comprehend exactly how violated you felt in the aftermath of that disgusting experience. You’d been right to call it a demon …

“You taste good.” It says when it finally starts to retract its tongue a moment later, setting its sights on lapping up the drool that coats your chin instead. “Good enough to eat, in fact. I wonder how much you’ll squeal when I feast between your legs.”

“Unhand me this instant,” You wheeze as more of your strength and will to fight slowly comes back to you with the oxygen you pull in. “You are vile and repulsive … I want nothing to do with it!”

“Oh, now that sounds familiar.”

Noising a tiny sound of confusion, you clutch its thick forearms in a death grip while it moves to set you down on your feet. You don’t trust it, not by a long shot, and your greatest fears are soon realized when its fingers curl into the fabric of your smock. The sound of straining thread reaches your ears long before it actually rips and you cry out when the first ragged strip is torn from you with a deafening tear. Piece by piece, it shreds your clothes to tatters no matter how wildly you try to twist away or cling to the quickly dwindling panels of black cotton. All too soon you find yourself naked save your stockings and the bloomers pulled over them, and your brassiere which it promptly shreds too.

Evidently saving your bottoms for last, it reaches for your veil next.

“No!” You shriek, hating the terror you can hear in your own voice as you make a useless, frantic attempt to shove the monster away.

It actually pauses even though you didn’t so much as budge it one little bit though, and it tips its head to the side inquisitively almost like … almost like a dog. There was that association again but where was it coming from? You couldn’t quite seem to remember, either due to your suffocating fear making the memory slip away or because your sleeping subconscious couldn’t quite remember enough to supply it on demand. Either way, you were sure it held the answer to your current predicament and you just couldn’t seem to grasp it.

Why did this thing seem so damn familiar to you?

“You do not want me to see your hair.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it takes everything you have not to outright scoff.

“Of course I don’t, you fiend! It is improper for a — a man, even one such as you, to look at the uncovered head of a nun who has sworn herself to the faith. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

It seems to consider that for a moment, humming softly as if in thought. “It is my understanding that, should one of the Sister’s ever take on a husband, then he alone is permitted to look upon her uncovered hair. Fine. Then I will allow you to keep your modesty until we consummate our union.”

You prickle defensively at the way it almost spits the word, as if with contempt and spite. “I will not be wed to you! I swore an oath to the church!”

“And now you will swear an oath to me.”

Hissing, it reaches out to grab at your bloomers even when you desperately try to slap its hand away. It tears them off just like everything else with neither forethought or effort, and you seethe at your own helplessness as you make one last ditch effort to wrench yourself free. But it’s too strong, too big. Just one of its hands seems to dwarf your hip when it possessively curls around your waist to hold you still. Your chest heaves with quick, panicked breaths as you tip your face down to watch it bring a claw close to your cunt, expecting it to rip off your pantyhose the same way it had all the rest. But all it does is caress over you with a thick knuckle and your face grows even hotter with indignation at the nudge. You couldn’t stand the thought of this thing touching you like this and yet you couldn’t seem to look away from it either.

“I don’t want this,” You whisper, barely even hearing your own voice over the blood that pounds in your ears.

“You will.” It assures you. Unexpectedly gentle, tentative almost, it curls its thick forefinger further back to prod at your crease and you fitfully shudder at the implication.

Was it really going to take you to wife? You’d never heard of anything more ridiculous; a nun and a one eyed demon, horns and all. It was completely useless to try and keep your cool any longer, and you outright whimper when it carefully pokes its claw up to pierce the thin layer of nylon. Hyper aware of how much it would hurt to get nicked by that sharp talon in such a sensitive spot, you force your body to stay as still as you can manage while it rips your stockings open at the crotch. Cool air wafts against your exposed cunt, making you tremble, and it breathes out a sigh of great pleasure as it teases the patch of curls there with those monstrous fingertips.

“Am I the first one to ever see you like this?”

“O - of course you are, foolish beast … I take my vows seriously. This isn’t — it’s not right, do you hear me? I was saving myself …”

Issuing a low, rasping laugh, it reaches up to palm your other hip with a muted squeeze, holding your waist in both hands now. “You were saving yourself for me. This whole time you were always fated to become my bride and you did so well maintaining the sanctity of your body but that’s all over now. You’re free to embrace your most depraved thoughts and urges. Free to languish in the licentious and erotic desires you’ve been suppressing for so long. I offer you no judgment for your human needs. Only pleasure.”

Squirming against its hold when your pussy flutters in unmistakable interest, you bring your hands up to weakly clutch its huge wrists again. You couldn’t believe this was happening. How could your body betray you over a creature like this? “No. I won’t fall for it. I refuse!”

“We shall see.”

Its tongue slips out again, curling through the air like a pink, wet serpent. Down to your chest where it takes a moment to flick over your nipple until it's coated in a fine sheen of spit and achingly stiff. You didn’t want it touching you like that but you also didn’t want to touch it, so you stop yourself from smacking at it. Just keep reminding yourself that this is only a dream — a very realistic, disturbingly tangible one, but a dream nonetheless. Whatever happened here held no weight in the real world.

And maybe … just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to indulge in the carnal just once?

The prodding tip of its tongue gives your teat one last wet nudge before tracing a path down your front. Past your ribs and its huge thumbs bracketing your waist, over your bellybutton and straight down to brush against your curls. You shudder at the sensation, at the very suggestion of what was to come, but you don’t fight it now. Rather, you hesitantly shift your weight from one foot to the other and then cant your hips forward with a shy little push. The monster hums a rumbling sound of approval before dipping its tongue between your thighs.

Eyes widening at the feel of it on your cunt, you just stand there like a frozen statue while it traces along the seam of your body. You’d never experienced anything like it before, and you were horrified at how eagerly your loins curl in anticipation. You almost let your courage waver, almost second guess your impulsive decision to humor this at all, but until you woke up you were effectively trapped and fighting it clearly wasn’t going to do any good.

Oh, why couldn’t you just wake up from this nightmare already?

“Relax.” It breathes out, unconcerned by the glistening threads of drool that drip from its mouth. “I will not hurt you, little nun.”

You wanted to believe that very badly. Almost as much as you wanted to believe that indulging like this wouldn’t have any impact on your waking conscience.

That slimy tongue starts to push up then, pressing into your lips, and you suck in a harsh breath. It teases around your entrance for a brief moment before it starts to wriggle its way in deeper. The penetration is not unlike that of your throat — all fleshy and smooth, and damp with spit — but it still stretches you enough to toe the line of discomfort. Swaying in its hold, you let out a dizzy groan.

“Oh … that’s - -“

“Only the tip.” The thing laughs.

You try to calm your breathing as it moves around inside you to work your body open, but it’s a losing battle. The stretch of until now untested muscle makes you wince while the slimy sensation of its tongue eagerly moving along your inner sleeve just leaves you wanting to throw up. You don’t think it’s supposed to feel like this, surely. Even without any experience of your own to go off of you’d expected sexual encounters to be more intimate and less … invasive. Less like you were being probed far beyond what any human hands should have been able to reach.

But if it sees any of the uncertainty flashing across your face it doesn’t show it. The demon only worms its tongue deeper and deeper as your passage reluctantly opens until the distant sensation of it bumping the end of you knocks a harried whimper loose. It’s an uncomfortable pressure but it doesn’t hurt. You’re exceedingly glad for that as you awkwardly shuffle your feet further apart to brace against the overload to your senses. It was like burning from the inside out, and the epicenter of it was concentrated squarely in your cunt. You felt certain you were going to combust any moment now.

“Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined. And so tight, too. I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock the same way.”

Your stomach clenches at the thought of how big a creature of this size must be. Fresh fear turns your veins to ice, and you weakly push against its hands. It doesn’t even seem to notice though, let alone take heed, and instead it just leisurely swirls that unnaturally long tongue around your guts. Back and forth, up and down. You’re dizzy with it and a little nauseous, but it also starts to feel good. Slowly but surely that initial discomfort fades to leave behind a thrumming vibration that makes you wheeze where you’re standing. And with it comes slick. So much slick that what you’d once thought only to be saliva quickly makes itself obvious as your cunt practically floods around the intrusion. It was impossible to comprehend the sheer extent of your arousal and yet it clearly didn’t matter. You’d toed the line a bit too close. Now there was no stopping it.

“P - please … it’s too much!”

Giving your waist a careful squeeze, the demon alters the motion of its tongue from swirling to thrusting. Sedate at first, it withdraws to drag against your interior walls when they squeeze and cling to the appendage and then it pushes back in. Right up to the end of your passage where it can’t go any further and the intense pressure makes you go cross eyed. You can’t even fully process how stuffed your cunt actually is, your legs turning weak and jelly-filled as it slowly increases the pace. The force. You’re beyond ashamed at the sticky wet clicks it pulls from between your thighs, but all you can do is helplessly writhe in its hold.

“Oh — oooh, wait … I - I can’t do this! I can’t!”

“It’s too late for that, Sister. You’re already doing it.”

You mewl at its response and throw your head back to wheeze up at the ceiling. It wasn’t wrong. You’d already crossed the line, yes, but this … this strange, unfamiliar feeling low in your gut was far beyond anything you would have ever expected from this. It was like you had to relieve yourself but also different somehow. A complete unknown you had no idea how to make sense of, and you let out a choked off squeal when the thrumming tension rapidly starts to double and then triple. No amount of thrashing was getting you out of its hold so you squeeze your thighs together in a vain attempt to dissuade it from moving inside you like that but it’s no use. Even trying to curl your legs up doesn’t work.

It just keeps fucking it’s tongue into your shuddering body without pause, and you start to feel truly dizzy as you dangle there between it’s massive hands. How could this be happening to you? And, more pressing, what was happening to you?

“You’re getting close, I suspect.” It sounds quite proud of that, but you’re a little too preoccupied with the jittery, firecracker nerves making you tremble and shake to question it. The pressure was getting almost unbearable now. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“Ahh — ahhghnn, ooohh please Holy Mother, please help me!”

“Aww, don’t start making me jealous. I’m the only god you should be praying to right now.”

Screwing your eyes shut, you turn your face from its horrible unblinking eye but it just laughs in response. Even if you’d wanted to snap at it for being so presumptuous as to think you would worship it in any capacity, you were finding your lungs constricting far too much to draw a proper breath. Your chest heaves with the blinding tension that races through your body and then — so suddenly you don’t get a chance to realize it’s even happening, it abruptly tips over. Spills out to wrack the whole of your body and devolve you into a shuddering mess of spasms.

You shriek and yelp as your pussy almost violently squeezes down on its tongue which just keeps moving insistently inside you. In and out, in and out like a continuous piston that even your tightly clenching guts couldn’t seem to keep at bay. That slippery appendage keeps spearing through you unimpeded, forcing your roiling muscles to keep contracting with each plunge, and you very nearly pass out from how intensely the sensation hits you. It was simultaneously like drowning deep in the bottomless ocean and soaring high overhead at the same time. You couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of it.

But it starts to fade much too fast. The sharp jolts of undeniable pleasure only last what seems to you like a few seconds and then those cresting waves are rapidly receding, like the tide pulling back from the shoreline. You still can’t quite draw a full breath and yet you soon go slack as the tension drains completely to leave you twitching in the aftermath. An odd sense of elation quickly rushes in to replace it though, and you’re ashamed at how you innately warm to the monster’s presence. You couldn’t believe how good that had felt … and bless the Cryo Archon, did that make you a terrible person?

All of a sudden you weren’t so sure you cared about that anymore, and that terrified you perhaps more than anything else that had happened here in this room.

“You look so good creaming all over my tongue.” It murmurs, drawing your muddled attention away from those fuzzy headed thoughts. “And the way you taste? Burn everything, I could help myself to this pretty cunt all day. I'm eagerly looking forward to consummating our marriage on the next new moon.”

Stirring out of your post-climax stupor, you frown at it in genuine confusion. “You aren’t going to do it now?” You weren't disappointed. Surely not. Just surprised, and very confused.

The demon sighs forlornly — rather dramatically, if you were being honest — and shakes its head. “I’m afraid not. I’d like to, of course, but the mating ritual has its own rules that I can’t supersede. Oh, don’t give me that grumpy look, Sister. I’m not leaving you empty handed tonight, rest assured.”

You draw a quick breath to berate the damned thing but then it starts to pull its long tongue out of your body and you tense up, seething through your teeth instead. The sharp sensitivity still racing through your nerves made you feel raw and tender. Overwrought in the most literal sense, and it finally slips out with a wet little slurp that makes you whimper at the loss as much as at the sound. You hadn’t thought yourself capable of, well … any of that. Any of this.

How were you possibly supposed to rationalize any of it in the light of day?

You’re still trying to work that out when it carries you to the bed where it sets you down, pulls back the sheets and then tucks you in with a truly shocking amount of care. You definitely hadn’t expected that. Not that you’d expected much of anything that had happened over the course of this implausible dream, but you decide not to fight it as the monster takes a moment to brush your veil over the pillow the same as it may have done with your hair. It was all much too strange to think about right now. You could pick it apart and analyze it tomorrow, when you’d had some time to actually process these bizarre happenings.

Or maybe never, if your subconscious was kind enough to let you forget any of this had ever happened in the first place.

“Rest now.” It tells you softly in that low, raspy voice. “I will be back to claim what’s rightfully mine soon enough.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You remember everything, of course.

And somehow that doesn’t surprise you in the least as you lay there in your bed, staring up at the ceiling while warm rays of morning sunlight bounce off the stark, unadorned walls. In retrospect you’re a bit disappointed to think that you could ever be so naive. To believe you’d forget something like that … it had certainly left an impression, at least.

What does strike you as odd though is the warm, continuous cramp in your lower belly. You readily want to write it off as menses related but … that doesn’t seem right. It should have been too soon for that just yet in your menstrual cycle.

Unable to stay your gnawing curiosity any longer, you finally rip the sheets off and look down at yourself. Your plain white nightgown is a bit rumpled but given the dream you’d had that didn’t seem so strange. That’s what you try to tell the niggling voice in the back of your mind anyway as you gather it up around your waist but what you find underneath stops you cold.

Etched into the skin just over the center of your pelvis as though with ink was a four pronged, hexagonal sigil. It was faintly purple in the light, and as clear as day. But that didn’t make any sense. Or rather, you couldn’t make any sense of it at all. You’d been asleep the whole night, here in your room, and this most assuredly had not been there when you’d taken a bath the previous evening …

You bolt upright with a strangled gasp. Turning your head to look at the window sends a debilitating chill racing through your body. Through the morning condensation beading on the glass you could see the evidence of a hand smudge, right where you’d touched it in your dream.

“No.” You whisper at the glass pane and then, with more conviction, “No. That’s not possible!”

It feels like your skin is trying to crawl right off your bones as you shoot out of bed and make a beeline for the tiny closet next to the desk. You rip the door open so forcefully it rattles and groans in protest but you can’t be bothered to worry about that right now. Not when you were staring at your habits, the one you’d worn yesterday, hanging in shreds from the hanger. You couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it, but the proof of it was staring you right in the face. Even your brassiere and bloomers were torn to pieces in the little basket you kept them in on the floor of the closet. The only thing untouched was your veil. Just like in your dream … except, it wasn’t actually a dream, was it?

Too numb to even wail over this revelation, you slowly sink down to the floor and just stare at your ruined clothes for what feels like a lifetime. There had to be some way out of this mess. There had to be.

Right?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The archbishop gives you an exceedingly strange look when you inquire about exorcisms, and it only continues to grow more and more pronounced the more you push the matter while also skirting around the subject at the same time. Not that you could really blame him, of course. You’d had to wait until after the morning service to corner him next to the dais before he could slip out through the side door so you’d had plenty of time to stew over everything, which meant you were coming in perhaps a little hot on the topic. That didn’t matter though. You were determined to get this resolved regardless of the cost, and if that meant having to shake some sense into him before he’d take you seriously then that was exactly what you were going to do.

Luckily it doesn’t come to that, and he eventually relents after you doggedly refused to give up your line of questioning. Giving his head a hopeless shake, he takes on the tone of someone leveling with a crazy person. “I understand your concerns, Sister, but exorcisms aren’t something that we implement unless absolutely necessary. It is very much a last resort, you see, and there is a rigorous process to even get approval for one. I’m afraid there’s not much else I can tell you.”

You remind yourself to take a deep breath and count to five before speaking next. It wouldn’t do to snap at the one person who might actually be able to help you get out of this mess. “With all due respect, Father, I don’t think that answer will suffice. Even if it’s not a full on exorcism, surely there must be smaller measures in place to help … discourage a demonic presence from returning?” Something a bit more effective than prayer and baptism evidently were.

His eyes narrowing in clear suspicion, the archbishop speculatively regards you for a moment. “Is there something you aren’t telling me, Sister?”

Of course it would finally get to this point. You’d expected as much, yes, but that doesn’t make the dread wrenching at your gut any less unbearable. How were you supposed to explain any of what had happened last night when you didn’t even understand it yourself? All you knew was that your clothes were in tatters up in your dorm, the window still showed evidence of your hand wiping across it and your lower stomach …

“Ah, Sister! There you are! Just the lady I was hoping to see.”

You spin around so fast your eyes feel like they’re going to pop right out of your skull. That feeling only increases when you find Ajax standing there at the end of the pew in his neatly pressed uniform and his smile blinding under the light that comes in through the stained glass murals. Your knees buckle and almost completely give out under you when your belly twists as if someone had shoved a red hot iron into it. Subconsciously you lift a hand to cradle the spot where the tattoo was but you couldn’t quite seem to tear your shocked gaze away from him.

That was it, wasn’t it? The association.

You think that has to be right. Had never been more sure of anything else in your life, and yet that doesn’t seem half as pressing as the thrumming arousal that grips you so suddenly and so tightly it actually pulls a quiet whimper out of you. Your cunt floods with it, so much slick producing at the drop of a coin that it makes you feel nauseous and disoriented in the same breath. But how could that be? And why was he just standing there inside the church as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing?

This was hallowed ground … wasn’t it?

“W - what are you doing here?”

Grinning, Ajax tips his head to one side. Inquisitive. Eager. Puppy-like. Bless the Holy Mother, you really were going to be sick.

“Aww, come on. Didn’t I tell you already?” He laughs softly, but those blue, blue eyes reflect none of that same humor. They reflect nothing at all, in fact. “I'd hoped we’d get to meet again after our little run in yesterday, so I just figured I’d take matters into my own hands and speed it up. I brought you flowers.”

You just catch the sound of the archbishop scoffing beside you in obvious disapproval and you would have wholeheartedly agreed with him under better circumstances. But better circumstances would not have found you panting with the effort of keeping your wits about you. It was like you were suffocating under the weighty pressure of the mark branded into your skin, and it almost seems to throb as you numbly look down at the humble bouquet he holds out. You could tell it was handpicked at just a glance. Some frost growing ferns and puffy cats tails, and … purple ivy.

Affection.

Fidelity.

Wedded love.

He couldn’t be serious, could he?

The sly edge that creeps into his otherwise boyish smile seems to suggest that he was, in fact, quite serious. You stumble back a step in your reeling disbelief and the archbishop hurries to grab you by the elbow so he can steady you, but you hardly even notice the presence of his hands. Your eyes, your mind, your entire being was for Ajax and Ajax alone.

“I did not ask for flowers.”

“That’s true but I still wanted you to have them. You caught my eye yesterday, Sister. I hope you won’t turn me down.”

Confusion and uncertainty grip you in equal measure, but it is the low pulse of the mark on your stomach that truly robs you of the ability to speak. It’s hot and uncomfortable, and the way it makes your pussy sympathetically flutter in time with your heartbeat very nearly overrides all of your higher functioning thoughts. Was he really the monster that had accosted you in your sleep or … could it have been a separate entity? One he wasn’t even aware of, if he thought you could really reject him when just the sight of him standing there made you desperate to be filled again. To be feasted upon by that beast.

Slowly, you reach your hand out to accept the bouquet and the invisible string tightens its noose around you almost imperceptibly. Your fate was already sealed. You knew this to be true on an intrinsic, fundamental level.

Foul Legacy had been right to say you’d been saving yourself for it.

For him.

For this.

You would give him your sanctuary, may the Holy Mother save your soul.

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #childe x reader #foul legacy x reader #self insert bullshit

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vxntagedior · 1 year

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boss' baby

summary | a drunken night lands you in bed with your unit chief and now pregnant with his baby

pairing | aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warning | angst, CM violence, guns, violence, protective!hotch, possessive!hotch, labor, fluff ending, you and aaron have an unclear relationship status

word count | 2.1k

You held onto your bump as you walked towards the scene. The team was the last to arrive, SWAT and the local PD already on the scene. This was your last case before you went to maternity leave and technically you were supposed to be on desk duty and stay with Garcia. But with it being in DC, Hotch brought Garcia with the rest of them, and in turn Garcia wanted to bring you because she didn’t want to leave you alone.

Practically waddling onto the scene, standing slightly behind Hotch while holding your bump because your vest stopped fitting months ago.

Feeling helpless in your situation, you went to sit by the tents where the radio had been set up, being the only communication that came through the building.

“Is there any communication coming through?” You asked one of the local agents.

“You with the BAU?” You nodded, letting them continue. “He’s asking for your agents.”

You looked back at the team seeing them all engrossed in their tasks, before turning back to the agent, “Call, I’ll talk.”

“Yes, this is SSA L/n.” You said professionally.

“Y/n.” You felt shivers go down your spine, chilled that he knew your name, he must have known the whole team. “Finally pop yet.”

Your eyes widened, your arm wrapping around your bump, who was this man and how did he know about you.

“I’ve heard you’ve been asking for an agent.” You ignored his question, staying on topic, hoping to get him out.

“You let one of your agents in, I let out the kids.” His command was clear, hanging up before you even got the chance to answer.

There were no words for you to say, shocked, you knew that no one could go in, there wasn’t a line of communication and you knew that you’d have to drop your gun when you got in, and there wasn’t a direct shot from the outside.

Hotch would be furious if he heard that you’d talk to the unsub on the phone but once hearing the gunshot from the inside, you couldn’t wait any longer.

While the rest of the team tried to find a way to look in, you were able to find a vest that was big enough to go around your bump, one of the agents giving you an earpiece so you could give the go signal to come in.

You ran as quickly as you could towards the scene, passing the rest of the team who didn’t notice, until they heard the sounds of other officers.

“L/n!” Hotch yelled, starting to run after you, the rest of the team looking what was right in front of them. “Y/n, stop!”

Morgan was quick enough to grab his unit chief, pulling him back before going in. “Hotch, Hotch!”

Aaron couldn’t breathe, seeing you go into the building, not understanding why you went in without saying anything.

“You can’t go in after her.”

“The b-baby.” He muttered.

Hotch never really talked about the pregnancy to the team much, they all knew you were pregnant with his baby, but the two of you weren’t together. Throughout your pregnancy, Hotch continued to treat you the same but once your bump started to grow, he became more protective and the whole team saw.

He felt helpless in the situation, all he could do was just stand by and wait for something to know that you were alright. Turning, he made his way towards the comm station.

“Is there anything?”

“The unsub called, he told SSA L/n that either her or one of your team members would have to go in so he would release the hostages.” They explained.

Hotch closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, letting it out and opening his eyes back up. “Does she have a line of communication?”

“She has an earpiece to let us know when it’s clear to come in.”

“Thank you.” He nodded before walking back to the team.

“The hostages should come out any minute now.” He said. “The unsub wanted a trade.”

“One of us for them.” Spencer whispered.

“Why didn’t she tell us?” Garcia whispered, “One of you would have gone in.”

“I don’t know babygirl, but it's done.”

Hotch didn’t know how long he had been waiting, the kids should have been out by now.

“Agent Hotchner!” Hotch turned, seeing an agent coming towards him with one of the phones, “it’s the unsub, he’s asking for you.”

“Hotchner.” Hotch’s voice was deep, raw, he was angry at this point. “Where are the children?”

“Oh, don’t be impatient Aaron.” The unsub laughed, “Must you ruin a good time, we’re having so much fun aren’t we Y/n.”

“Aaron!” You sounded winded.

“Y/n, are you-” Hotch didn’t finish his sentence.

“Ah, ah ah.” The unsub cackled. “Agent L/n is busy at the moment.”

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Since the pregnancy, you learned that Hotch was possessive of not only the baby but you. Any night where you weren’t on a case, he’d be at your apartment and out in different states, he’d always share a room with you.

The two of you danced around your feelings for years, everyone knew that. Everyone had their bets on when one of you would finally confess your love for each other. He doted towards you during the pregnancy, getting up in the middle night to go to your apartment because you called wanting food at 3am.

It was clear as day the two of you were going to be wonderful parents and the team was happy that the two of you happy with each other.

“The children should be out any minute.” Once again, the unsub hung up before Hotch could get another word in. The team surrounded the perimeter waiting for them while Hotch stormed towards the Comm station.

“Where is the line that directs to L/n.” He was heaving, he needed to hear your voice, to make sure you were okay.

“Y/n.” He spoke into the microphone.

“Aaron.” You whispered, he could barely hear it and wasn’t expecting you to answer. He sighed, relief filling him.

“Hi sweetheart.” He whispered, smiling. “I know I should be mad at you but I’m happy you're okay. I need to listen to me sweetheart, you need to give me the word for us to move in, once those children are out, I can’t keep you in there, I need you, okay.”

He didn't hear anything for you, keeping the microphone in his hand, turning back to see the children coming out of the building into the hands of the team.

Hotch was practically glaring at the microphone just waiting to hear your voice.

“Now!” You said in the microphone.

“Move in!” He yelled towards SWAT and the team, running in with them.

Hotch practically jumped up the stairs, searching every floor briefly before going up to the next.

“Robert Handson, stay right there!” He shouted, seeing the unsub starting to make his way towards you.

You were pushed against the wall, your vest and gun thrown across the floor, your hands protecting your bump.

“Agent Hotchner, come to save your damsel.” He stalked towards you, pulling you against his chest, pressing the gun to your temple.

You whimpered, closing your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Put the gun down.” Hotch tried to keep his voice as clear as possible not wanting the unsub to hear how scared he was.

“Why should I?” He smirked, pressing it further into your head. You were practically sobbing at this point, trying to fight your way out of his touch.

You knew this couldn’t be where it ended, you opened your eyes to see Aaron looking at the both of you, his eyes glassy, trying not to cry.

Coming to your senses, you kicked your foot between his legs, making him flinch and let go of you, letting you run so Aaron could take the shot. Once clearing that the unsub was down, Aaron made his way to you.

Letting his emotions take a hold of him, his hands held the sides of your face as his lips pressed against yours. You sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling him closer towards you. Pushing away, you rested your forehead against his.

“Never.” He whispered, tears running down his face too, “Never do that again.”

“I don’t think I can promise that.” You whispered, smiling. Aaron smiled with you, going to kiss you again, softly.

You smiled into the kiss, before breaking away. “As much as I dreamed of this happening, maybe we move this somewhere else.”

Aaron smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, helping you back outside.

Joining the rest of the team, each saying their worries, giving you hugs of relief. As you hugged Garcia while she practically lectured you about going in, your eyes widened, pulling away from her.

“What’s wrong?” She looked at you.

“I think my water broke.” You looked down at your gray pants, seeing a dark line starting to trickle down your pant leg.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed, gaining the attention of the rest of the team. “Oh my god, she’s going into labor!”

The ride to the hospital was eventual, Garcia and Hotch arguing over who should ride in the ambulance with you, Morgan taking Garcia away letting Hotch stay with you.

“You ready sweetheart?” Hotch asked, holding onto your hand as you felt your contractions.

“Yea-ahhhhhh!” You screamed as another contraction started. “No.”

“It’s alright, we’re almost there.”

“I want drugs.” You cried, “I can’t do this.”

Aaron just smiled, pressing a kiss to your hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

Finally coming to the hospital, you were put into a bed and rolled into the delivery room, luckily all the doctors and nurses were present when the two of you came in and the morphine was given to you.

“Alright, Mrs. Hotchner, let’s get this baby.” You were so out of it that you didn’t correct it and Aaron was stunned just to hear the doctor call you Mrs. Hotchner.

“Okay, just one more big push.” It was a relief to you, hearing you just needed to push once more. Aaron was nothing but supportive, holding onto your hand the entire time, wiping away the sweat that was dripping down your face, whispering sweet nothing in your ear.

“There we go!” The doctor smiled, lifting the baby up to your eyes, “Congratulations it’s a girl.”

The two of you cried in happiness, hearing her little cries, you finally closed your eyes, leaning back on the bed.

“You did amazing.” Aaron smiled, moving the hair away from your eyes. Aaron kept an eye on you and the babe as she was cleaned and finally brought over to the two of you.

“Here we go mom.” The nurse handed her into your arms.

You could cry about how beautiful and small she was. Though just being born, you could already tell she took many of Hotch’s features.

“She looks like you.” You looked up at him.

“Hi baby.” You softly rubbed her cheek with the pad of your thumb. That seemed to wake her, her eyes opening, blinking rapidly before settling.

“Oh my, Aaron, look at her eyes.” Aaron leaned down to look at his daughter, seeing her eyes, one brown, the other hazel.

“She has heterochromia.” He said in awe. Lifting her up to Hotch, he softly took her out of your arms.

“My sweet girl.” You couldn’t look away from them, seeing the bond that was already being created.

“Do we have a name for your special girl?” The nurse asked.

“Isabella Hotchner.” You said softly, looking up at Hotch, “Izzy.”

The nurses and doctors stepped out of the room letting the three of you settle before letting any visitors come in.

You all ended up falling asleep before the team came in. Isabella was in the bassinet while you scooted over to have Hotch in the bed with you. It was a tight fit but you were adamant with sleeping with him.

JJ was the first to walk in, the rest of the coming in, seeing the two of you. JJ swooned at the scene, seeing sleeping Isabella and you and Aaron cuddling together.

He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, but his arms were wrapped against your back, letting your head rest on your chest while the blanket covered the two of you.

Everyone just set down their flowers and balloons, leaving the phone, just before Garcia was able to snag a photo of the three of you.

Rossi smiled at the two of you together, remembering the nights that Aaron stayed late talking about you to him. Setting down his flowers, he dimmed the lights and closed the door, leaving your family together.

fin.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x pregnant!reader #pregnant!reader #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x mom!reader #dad!aaron hotchner x mom!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #dad!aaron hotchner

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dyns33 · 11 months

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Simple

A soulmate Poe Dameron x female reader, because why not ?

Yet it was simple.

Your soulmate would say the phrase you've had on your arm since birth, the first thing you'll hear from them, and in return you'll respond with the phrase they've had on their arm since birth, the first thing they'll hear from you.

The galaxy being vast, it was not so easy to meet your soulmate, but apart from this space problem, the rule was not complicated.

Y/N had always dreamed of meeting her soulmate. Her sentence was original enough for her to be sure to be in front of the right person when the moment came.

"Let's go, baby, guide me through the stars."

Well, she couldn't really guess in what context her soulmate was going to say this sentence, but she was eager for it to happen, imagining what she was going to answer in return.

It was absolutely not for that that she had engaged in the resistance, nor that she had decided to be in the communications team, which guided the pilots.

To tell the truth, she hadn't even made the connection.

Y/N had joined, because it was the right thing to do, because the Empire had to be fought. And she had ended up in comms, not by choice, but because despite her piloting skills and her desire for justice, she was unable to fire on other ships. It was probably cowardly and selfish, but she didn't want to kill anyone directly.

Hiding in her little station, she was helping others do it, and she was pretty good at it.

This was probably why she was appointed to support Black Leader during a very important mission.

Black Leader. Poe Dameron. Best pilot of the resistance. The one all men spoke of with admiration, and all women dreamed of at night.

Not Y/N.

She had never seen him, she had never had the opportunity to talk to him, and while she admitted that the stories she had heard about him were incredible, they were just stories. It was good that he was helping the resistance, but he wasn't the only one.

While she was concentrating after being teased for a long time by the other communication girls who was a little jealous, Y/N suddenly heard a sweet voice in her ears, which made her freeze.

"Let's go, baby, guide me through the stars."

This moment, she had waited all her life. Really. The most important moment of an existence, which awaited a precise answer.

Hers was to be unable to speak. Paralyzed in her seat, she stared at her screen, staring at the glowing dot that represented Black Leader.

"Hey oh ? A-8, you copy ?" Poe Dameron asked, both worried and irritated by the lack of response.

It would have been a good time to say something. A second chance. Instead, Y/N took off her helmet, jumped out of her seat, and ran to G-4 to beg her to switch pilots. G-4 was surprised, but too happy to assist Dameron, asked no questions and complied.

The mission was a success, even though Y/N was not at her post, and she was not really concentrated during the following hours.

Why hadn't she said anything ? It was stupid, but finding out that the resistance's best pilot was her soulmate had come as a shock. She didn't know how to react at all.

Poe Dameron had a reputation, in addition to knowing how to fly. Many said he wasn't looking for his soulmate at all, just wanting to have fun.

You shouldn't listen to the stories, but Y/N wondered if it was true. And even if that was wrong, she didn't think he'd be happy to be with a coward who was hiding in comms and not really doing anything to get the win.

She thought she would have time to think, to find a moment to gather courage and talk to him, but as soon as the pilots returned, Black Leader went to the communications room.

Y/N didn't know right away that it was him, since she had never seen him. She only saw a man, tall, quite handsome, dressed in pilots' clothes, followed by a small droid, and visibly furious.

It was the reaction of the other girls, and his voice, that gave her his identity

"Where's A-8 ?"

Again, she froze, feeling very small in her seat. Quickly, she looked at G-4, who didn't move, then F-7, who felt the panic in her eyes. The comms girls were in solidarity. So F-7 sighed before raising her hand.

"Yes, Black Leader ?"

"Why the radio silence ? Why the change of guide ? I could have had problems, and my guys too. You don't change guides in the middle of a mission, never !"

"Sorry, Black Leader. I felt ill, and I didn't want to jeopardize the mission by misguiding you. But as soon as I saw everything was fine, I took another post."

"Hmm..." Dameron mumbled, not sounding convinced. "Okay, for this time, but let it be the only one. Did you all hear ?"

"Yes, Black Leader !" replied all the girls. All, except Y/N.

This time there were questions. No one understood A-8's attitude, even though it could be intimidating to talk to Poe Dameron.

Those who had had this honor before said that he was quite nice, funny, loving to flirt, doing everything for them to have a good time together. It was okay to be shy, but she really had to not do that again.

A good moment. Funnt. Y/N felt bad.

With each of the following missions, Y/N begged F-7 again to take her place. And F-7, even though she found it strange and childish, agreed. It was truly an honor to guide Black Leader. She even had fun flirting with him and bragging about it to others.

This will be several weeks, during which Y/N began to regain her composure, trying to accept the situation and repeating to herself that it is not serious. At least she had met her soulmate, and she could move on.

While she was going to the canteen, a small droid bumped into her legs, before circling her beeping. Y/N spoke a little binary, so she understood that the rascal was trying to escape maintenance.

"You do not have to be afraid." she said gently, kneeling in front of him to pat his head. "It's important to make sure you're okay, for yourself and for others. Are you a pilot's droid ? More importantly, they..."

"BB8 ? BB8, where are you ?!"

This voice. Y/N froze, before slowly turning her head towards Poe Dameron who was coming towards her, staring at the droid. His droid.

"There you are ! Hey, don't hide behind the girl, no ! BB, that's bad. Excuse him, he hates check-ups, that little monster. Yes, you're a little monster. You... I am as nice as that girl, you can't stay with her."

Y/N said nothing, unable to answer. Black Leader seemed to sense her embarrassment.

"You're in communications, aren't you ?" he asked with a charming smile. "I recognize the uniform. We may have flown together before ? I often have A-8 at the moment, she's not bad. I had heard a lot of good things about her, but I'm a little disappointed. Our first time together... She wasn't very professional."

Y/N still said nothing.

"I mean, she's fine. I understand that the mission was stressful. And even if it's stupid, it's stressful to guide me. But we have a job to do, and we have to do it, seriously. She is really not serious. I should change my comm, I think. I will ask the general. Would you guide me ?"

The only response Y/N could give was a nod, before fleeing, leaving the pilot and his droid in the middle of the corridor, intrigued.

After that, it was announced that Black Leader was asking for a change of comm. Then another. Then another. He seemed to want to talk to all the girls in the communications department at least once. Absolutely all of them.

And when it was impossible for Y/N to switch places with anyone again, she panicked. Her first solution was to say she was sick, too bad. But she couldn't stay sick forever. So she went to talk to General Organa.

"You want to change assignments ?"

"Yes, General. Originally, I was supposed to be a pilot, and although communication is important, I think I could help in mechanics, or elsewhere."

"Hmm. And that has nothing to do with a certain pilot you've been avoiding for a month ?"

"I... I don't know what you mean ?"

"No ? He told me about your little chase. He thought it was funny at first, but now he doesn't understand your attitude. He wonders if he did something wrong, A-8."

He knew. From the start, he knew. Oh, not that they were soulmates, but that she had been avoiding him for weeks.

"If Black Leader did something, tell me." said General Organa calmly.

"He... He said my sentence."

"Ah. I see. And you didn't answer, because ?"

"... He's Black Leader. The best pilot in the resistance... who isn't looking for anything serious."

"I've heard the rumours. Dameron likes to have fun, it's true. He loves to talk, laugh, and flirt. But the rest of it, if you ask him, it's just baseless gossip. It's a romantic idiot. He's looking forward to his soulmate, though he's too proud to admit it. I think he's waited long enough, right ? Unless you really want to change assignments, I won't oppose it."

Y/N hesitated. After all that had happened, he might be angry. He would probably be disappointed. But he had a right to know, so she accepted the next mission with Black Leader.

Sitting at her post, she took a deep breath before turning on the comms.

"A-8, glad you're back with us after your illness, hope you're feeling better." Dameron sneered into her helmet.

"... Thank you, I'm like BB, I don't really like check ups."

There was a silence. A long silence. She had spoken without thinking, not wondering if that would be the right sentence, only finding that it was the right thing to answer.

Beeps were heard, and a growl.

"Yeah, I know BB, I got it. A-8, I need to focus, but can we meet when I get back ? Please ?"

Poe Dameron was not known for saying 'please'. Y/N couldn't say no to him. They were very professional during the rest of the mission, not talking at all about what had happened. And when the pilots returned, Y/N was standing in the hangar.

Seeing her, Black Leader jumped out of his cockpit without waiting to come quickly towards her. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, his face totally impassive.

"First question, your name."

"Oh. Y/N."

"Great. Poe, delighted. Second question, are we what I think we are ?" he asked, standing in front of her.

"... I think so."

"Okay. Third question, why ? Why the radio silence ?"

"I… I was surprised. And then… I thought you'd be disappointed. People say you're not looking for anything serious."

"People are stupid and don't know me at all, just the guy on the propaganda posters. Besides, I think you're cute, and I've heard a lot of good things about your work. Knowing that, would you have responded ?"

"... Yes, I can imagine ?"

"So I'm not rejected ?"

"What ? No ! Not at all ! I thought… I thought you were going to reject me.”

"Okay." Poe said simply before kissing her without waiting, in front of everyone.

Some cheered, others were a bit jealous, while the comms girls finally understood their colleague's attitude. Of course, the best pilot and the best guide were made to be together. Two idiots.

"Beep beep !"

"What ?" Poe muttered, watching his droid push him again and again, getting between him and Y/N. "No, I... How come it's my turn for maintenance ? What are you talking about ?"

"I haven't really had maintenance." Y/N whispered. "I lied, BB."

"Beep beep !"

"It hurts Y/N, very badly. My heart is bleeding. Me, who spent almost all my free time at the nurse to find someone who didn't like check-ups, I feel stupid."

"Beep !"

"Thanks, BB. We'll check up together if you want."

"Beep beep."

"I speak some binary, what we do or don't do together is nobody's business." Y/N said trying not to be embarrassed by the language used by droid.

"Excuse him, I told you, he's a little monster. I raised him better than that though."

This made her laugh, relaxing the atmosphere completely, even if BB8 had already somewhat succeeded in helping the two ridiculous humans to stop their stupidity. Even if the kiss wasn't completely nonsense, just Poe who was going a little too fast.

Y/N's laugh made her soulmate smile, who seemed as relieved as her by the situation. All was well, all was perfectly well, simple, a pilot and his comm, soulmates, who fought for peace.

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine

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webslinger-holland · 16 days

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The Sergeant's Senator | Chapter 8

Summary: As the senator is admitted to a medical facility, the rest of the crew get their new assignment and are informed that the new guards will be arriving soon. With the possibility that the senator won't be awake by the time they leave, Hunter says his last goodbye.

Warning: blood lose and major bodily injuries (wounds, traumatic brain injury, and spinal injury), mentions of surgery and stitches, unconscious patient in medical facility

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 4.2k words

Series Masterlist

The Bad Batch had finally arrived at the nearest medical facility in the city. They were able to make contact with the facility in order to prepare for their arrival, requesting for assistance as soon as they landed. The Marauder came to a slow landing on the platform, lowering the landing gear in the process.

As the ramp lowered, the squad members were extra careful when maneuvering the floating stretcher down to the platform. There were a few medical droids on standby. They directed the crew exactly where they needed to go, leading them through the facility.

Making their way through the hallways and towards the nearest medic, Tech was able to transfer his scans to one of the medical droids which helped them assess her injuries more rapidly. They brought the stretcher into one of the spare rooms, but one of the droids stopped the rest of the crew from entering.

"I apologize," the medical droid beeped. The droid held up a single metal hand. "No visitors will be allowed at this time."

"We aren't visitors; we are the escort. We have been assigned to protect her," Hunter explained to the droid standing in front of him.

"I can assure you: no further harm will come to her," the droid replied. They weren't going to be able to argue with that. So they gave in. The droid was able to step back and close the door in front of them, essentially locking the small squad out.

It felt like hours had passed since they had arrived at the medical facility. They were stationed in the waiting room with a million other civilians. Some sick patients sat in empty seats, voices were heard calling names over the comm, and medical droids helped in assisting people at the front desk.

People kept coming in and out of the doors to the rooms in the back. It varied between doctors, droids, visitors, or patients. Each time, nobody came to call on the small group of clones to give them an update. At least once every hour, Hunter made his way to the front desk to ask the droid if there was any update from the doctors with her. This was now his fifth time coming up.

"I am sorry, clone. I haven't received any message from the doctors about an update," the assistance beeped. The sergeant leaned his arms against the counter, hanging his head low in defeat.

"I understand," Hunter nodded.

"She went into surgery two hours ago and has yet to come out," the droid read from the hologram right in front of them.

"Will...will you just let us know when she comes out of surgery?" Hunter wondered with a glint of hope in his eyes.

"I will notify you," the droid gave a curt nod of agreement.

Making his way back to the row of seats, Hunter planted himself down in slight defeat. He leaned forward to rest his forearms against the tops of his legs, bringing his hands up to clasp together in front of his mouth. He felt lost in his thoughts.

Meanwhile, Wrecker was seated next to him and was snacking on some things that he grabbed from one of the machines in the hallway. He threw a glance towards the weary sergeant sitting beside him. He gave him a rough nudge in his good shoulder.

"Cheer up, sarge." Wrecker encouraged, wearing a broad smile on his face. "The senator will pull through. She's tougher than you think."

"I sure hope you're right, Wrecker."

"The senate should be getting out at this point," Tech recalled almost sorrowfully, having memorized the time stamps of the senator's schedule. The rest of them remained silent.

"Wonder how the vote went," Echo added after the pause.

"Let's hope it was in the senator's favor," Hunter told them. They all seemed to agree with him, nodding their heads in synchronized agreement. All except Crosshair who still didn't care at all for the senator or her precious senate vote.

Another three hours had passed staying in the medical facility. The sound of people talking quiet or walking around the waiting room had turned into a mundane sound that could easily be drowned out. The bright florescent light was straining on the eyes, making everything in the room look bland and drained of color. A strong headache settled in around hour three.

Surprisingly, a medical droid had approached the small squad sitting in a row. The four of them quickly rose to their feet, stepping forward to hear a report from the front desk droid. The droid shuffled back slightly, raising its hands in slight defense.

"The patient is out of surgery," the droid beeped factually. "She is under heavy anesthetics, but you are permitted to go back there now."

"Thank you," Hunter expressed his gratitude. The droid made sure to point the clones in the right direction, giving them the room number just as they began to walk away in the direction.

Navigating the hallways, it didn't take them long before they were able to come across the room. However, upon entering the room, the Bad Batch were met with a distressing sight of a heavily wounded senator laying in bed. Her once neat white dress had been cut for the surgery and was sitting on a nearby chair, still soaked in her blood.

The senator was laying motionless on the bed, hooked up to various monitors to watch her vitals. The color had drained from her face so much that she almost resembled a ghostlike figure. A few stitches had been sown around various injuries including places like her arms, head, and hands.

Unbeknownst to them, underneath her gown, the medical professionals were able to patch the gaping wound in her side. Though what remained was sixteen stitches and major bruises, they were able to save her before she died from blood loss alone. Her internal bleeding injuries required immediate medical surgery in order to fix. According to the doctors, Senator Rayna should be able to make a full recovery as long as she took things easy. They breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.

"Besides the internal bleeding, Senator Rayna sustained a traumatic brain injury which resulted in severe nerve damage to her spine in particular," the medical droid explained while reading off the data pad.

Glancing down at her form, Hunter saw the line of stitches drawing from the side of her head and running deep into her hairline. He lowered his hand to stroke some hair out of her face, being mindful of her stitches.

"She may experience changes in her strength, feeling, and mobility." The medical droid had pointed out to them, but none of them really knew what to do with this information. Besides Tech who proceeded to type that information into his data pad.

"It doesn't matter," Hunter reassured the droid standing beside him. He felt a small wave of optimism and his lips tugged into a gentle smile. "What matters is that she's alive and she's going to be okay."

Over the course of the next couple days, Senator Rayna had been admitted into the medical facility and was ordered to remain there until clearance. The Bad Batch chose to stay with the senator the entire time, often resulting in one or two of them falling asleep on the couch in the corner or in the chair beside her bed. They could have gone back to the barracks to rest, but the only one who did that each night was Crosshair.

On the day of the attack, Hunter ended up sending a message over the comm channel to Commander Cody about the incident that occurred. He received the message a few hours later, promising that he'd be there as soon as he could. He also mentioned that he'd be coming with their new transfer order.

Upon hearing about the transfer, Hunter felt his heart once again give way in the depths of his chest. Especially at the prospect of not being able to say goodbye to the senator if she didn't wake up within the next couple days. He desperately hoped that she'd come to sooner rather than later so that he'd at least be able to have that before leaving her indefinitely.

At the given moment, Hunter was the only one in the room because the rest of them decided to grab some lunch in the cafeteria downstairs. He silently sat in the chair right beside her bed, holding her hand gently and stroking the back of it with his thumb. During their rare moments alone, Hunter rarely talked to her and chose to just listen to the sound of her heart monitor beeping steadily. It somehow brought him comfort.

Suddenly, the door to the room had opened unexpectedly. The sergeant quickly pulled his hand out of her grasp, directing his attention towards the door. But Hunter ended up scrambling to stand to his feet upon seeing who walked through the door.

Alongside Commander Cody, Senator Bail Organa and Senator Padme Amidala had joined him in their visit. The door was quietly closed behind them as the three proceed to enter a little further. The sergeant quickly stood at attention, falling right back into protocol.

"Thought it was about time that we paid her a visit," Senator Organa said with a small smile on his face. His eyes fell on the familiar sleeping figure, feeling a slight twinge of pain in his heart at the mere sight.

Slowly, Padme made her way around the other side of the bed so that she stood beside her dearest friend. She pulled her hand out of her shawl, bringing it up to brush her hair back. She smiled down at her softly.

"How is she doing?" Padme inquired, looking up at Hunter for an answer.

"She's...certainly a fighter," Hunter replied rather slowly. He was slightly taken back by her upfront question, but she knew that he had been beside her during her whole recovery.

"Always has been," Padme chuckled softly. "She's the most stubborn person I know."

"You've got that right," Hunter let out a small scoff. He opted to change the conversation. He looked up at the two senators. "How did the vote go? We didn't get to hear the results."

Instead of providing a verbal answer, Bail and Padme had exchanged a brief glance towards each other. She shook her head in denial, silently indicating that they hadn't gotten enough votes to pass her treaty which they counted as a severe loss to the war campaign.

"Ah, I'm sorry to hear about that. I know how hard she worked on that speech and how badly she wanted to be there for the vote," Hunter replied sorrowfully. "I--I just wish I had been able to get her there for it," Hunter added.

"Don't blame yourself," Padme encouraged him. She made sure to catch his gaze so she could get her point across to him. "Nobody could have done a better job at protecting her than your squad. And for that, we are eternally grateful."

"Speaking of your job," Commander Cody interrupted them with a brief clear of the throat. He held up a piece of paper. "Your new transfer orders for you and your squad."

Hesitantly, Hunter took the piece of paper from the commander. He opened it up, reading the exact location where they'd be heading. His mind fell blank as the reality of the situation began to settle in. His gaze grew hazy.

"You'll be heading to the frontlines on Kashyyk. It's getting pretty messy over there. Nothing your squad can't handle though, right?" Commander Cody tried to make the situation lighthearted.

The commander's words only fell on deaf ears. The dull aching feeling in his chest was growing more unbearable with each passing second. He found himself staring directly at the sleeping senator laying on the bed, thinking about the thought of finally departing from her service. The only issue being that he didn't want to depart from her.

"She'll be just fine," Commander Cody reassured him. He took notice of the way the sergeant didn't tear his gaze away from the senator, thinking it was a little out of character for a clone soldier. "Her new guards will relieve you of your duty as early as tomorrow," Commander Cody added.

"Tomorrow?" Hunter was pulled out of his train of thought. He turned his head to look directly at the commander now.

"Yes. Tomorrow," Cody said slowly, studying his surprised reaction cautiously. "Your squad can leave as soon as they come."

The sergeant lowered his gaze to stare down at the floor; his eyes flickering back and forth in conflict. His hands subconsciously flexed at his sides a few times. He wouldn't be able to go against his new orders; he was a soldier and soldiers follow order through.

"I...I...copy that," Hunter scrambled for words. He had never sounded more unsure of himself, which made the commander even more confused.

"Is something wrong?" Cody inquired. He took a single step forward, but the sergeant was quick to move away from him.

"No sir," Hunter replied cooly. He straightened his back in posture, standing at attention like soldiers do. "I'll be sure to report to the rest of the squad about our new orders."

With a quick salute, Hunter made his exit from the room and left the others behind to stay. He wandered through the long hallways of the facility, thoughts overrun in the midst of his head. He didn't know what to think, but he certainly didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. He just needed to opportunity to do it.

The dark blue night sky was almost never covered with the sparkled specks of white starlight given the amount of lights radiating from the city below. The water in the portholes shimmered by the glow of the bright colored lights coming from neon signs along the street. The soft sound of pattering rain fell over the entire stretch of the city, landing on closed windows and drenching everything in sight.

Besides the sergeant and the senator, the recovery room was empty once again. The soft beeping from the heart monitor became the only sound in the room with the occasional rumble of thunder coming from outside. A lamp beside the bed was flicked on and was the only source of light in the room.

At the given moment, Hunter was sitting in that same chair from earlier. His hand was clasped in her own in hopes of providing her some comfort that he was still beside her. His eyes scanned her face carefully, searching for the slightest sign of movement. But nothing happened.

An overwhelming surge of emotions began to swell in his chest, which had been threatening to burst over the past couple days. Hanging his head low, he couldn't hold it back any longer. The tears swelled in the corners of his eyes. He cried quietly to himself.

"I--I'm sorry," Hunter choked over his words. He held her hand so gently in fear of causing her any pain or discomfort. "I'm sorry...I wasn't there to protect you. I should have d--done more for you."

Lifting his head, Hunter's face had grown red from his own tears. They dripped down the length of his nose, falling into his lap. He had never felt this overcome with emotions before; he couldn't even remember the last time he cried.

"Y--You trusted me," Hunter continued. He spoke to her with an open heart. "And I let you down. For that, I am so sorry."

Slowly, Hunter took his hand out of her grasp. He rose to his own feet, towering over the side of the bed. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, sniffling up the rest of them to the best of his ability.

"W-We ship out tomorrow. Your new escort will be here when you wake up," Hunter nodded. He fiddled with the gloves covering his hands. "So this will have to do for our goodbye."

With some hesitation, Hunter ended up leaning down over her. He pressed his lips against the crown of her head, still being mindful of those stitches that were still healing. He kissed her head sweetly, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to find this unsatisfying closure for himself. Drawing away from her, Hunter took one last glance over her features. He pulled away for final time and began walking away.

That was when it happened.

The sergeant froze in his place upon hearing the sound of the heart monitor spiking unexpectedly. He quickly spun around on his feet to face her again. His eyes watched the heart monitor resume beeping at the normal pace, but when his eyes fell on her figure, he saw her finger twitching at her side. He took a hesitant step towards her.

For a moment, the muscles in her face had contorted slightly. He wasn't sure if this meant she was in pain, if she was fighting, or if it was just uncontrollable reflexes. It didn't really matter though because he was by her side within a split second. He called her name softly in hopes of coaxing her back into a conscious state.

Finally, Y/n's eyes had fluttered open ever so slightly. The confusion was already starting to take over her mind because she didn't know where she was or who she was with. She tried sitting up in her place, but found very little strength to even lift herself up further on the pillows.

"Just relax. Don't strain yourself," Hunter's voice spoke from right beside her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, keeping her body back against the pillows.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n was able to turn her head to look directly at him. Though her eyes were heavily hooded, Y/n could make out his distinctive figure in the form of his tattoo and his red bandana. She lifted her hand to cup the side of his scruffy cheek and he closed his eyes to relish the feeling. Her lips tugged into a warm smile.

"Hunter," Y/n breathed softly.

"I'm right here," Hunter comforted her.

"I knew you'd save me."

During the early hours of the morning, the Bad Batch were working tirelessly to make final preparations before their departure in less than an hour. They packed all of their equipment away in the barracks, carrying it back to their ship and loading it all up.

Around that same time, the Coruscant Guard had arrived at the medical facility to relieve the sergeant of his nightly obligation of staying with the senator. He was quiet when dismissing himself from her company, leaving the room to rejoin his brothers at the ship.

The landing platform was rather chaotic and unorganized. While Tech was undergoing some last minute checks on the ship's log, Wrecker and Crosshair were tasked with loading the crates into the ship. Meanwhile, Hunter and Echo brought more things from the barracks and left them right outside the ship to be brought inside. And they had just got the last of their things together.

"Look who showed up," Echo let out a small huff of disbelief. His eyes looking off into the short distance of the platform.

When Hunter turned around in his place, he was a little more than surprised to see the senator herself being escorted by her new guards. Given the extent of her injuries, Y/n was confined to a wheelchair temporarily until her injuries were fully healed or until her strength returned. One of her guards was pushing her towards the ship, stopping only a short ways away.

"What are you doing here?" Hunter wondered with a curious smirk on his lips. He crossed his arms across the stretch of his chest.

"You didn't think I'd let you all leave without saying goodbye?" Y/n asked playfully. She smiled up at him just as the other members began to join beside him. "And...I just wanted to say thank you...to all of you," Y/n said while looking over each of them.

The Bad Batch had completed their mission objection of keeping the senator safe at all costs. They would continue to have a 100% success rate if that even mattered to them now. It was a different mission from all the others that they were used to, but sometimes, change can be a good thing.

One at a time, Y/n said her goodbyes to each respective clone in a memorable way. For Wrecker, he had knelt down beside her and gave her a gentle hug. He was still worried for her injuries, but the gesture still brought a smile to her face. With Tech, he only provided a firm handshake which was fitting for his non-emotional personality. For Echo, he saluted the senator in the same respective way he did when they first met each other.

For Crosshair, there was no difference between their first meeting and their final departure. His feelings of hatred towards her hadn't changed at all. He looked down at her with a blank face. But the senator ended up surprising him when she said:

"Thank you, Crosshair."

The word must have gotten out that he was the one who took out the assassin in the end. So, for their goodbye, the senator simply thanked him for his services despite knowing how much he hated her. She sent him a weak smile.

Finally, the only one left was the sergeant. He took his place right in front of her, dropping down onto a single knee. There was a brief moment of silence surrounding them. The two of them felt so overwhelmed with emotion that it was hard to find words to express themselves. And tears gathered in the corner of both of their eyes.

"So this is goodbye? I'll never see you again?" Y/n asked him. He saw how the tears began to stream down her face so he reached up to brush a few away with his thumb.

"No," Hunter shook his head gently. "If I remember correctly, I still have to take you to the beach."

Upon hearing this, Y/n breathed a small laugh which he ended up mirroring. She gazed at him with the brightest smile and with eyes that sparkled with love. Unbeknownst to the guards behind her, Y/n was able to take his hand in her own for a brief moment. She slipped him a small device, hoping that it went unnoticed by her guards.

"You've got a deal," Y/n smiled. He wrapped his fingers around the small circular device. He rose to his feet slowly and made sure to keep the device out of sight. He pocketed it swiftly. "Until next time, sarge."

Moving to the side, Hunter took a brief second to stand directly in front of one of her new guards. He stared at the clone trooper with a stern look in his eyes. He watched the guard straighten his back in posture slightly as if he was feeling the weight of his gaze and had grown nervous under it.

"Keep her safe," Hunter ordered. "At all costs."

"Y-Yes sir."

Satisfied by that answer, Hunter issued his departure from the platform. He began walking back towards the ship with his brothers beside him. They climbed the ramp slowly before closing the latch behind them.

Only a minute later, the engines of the ship activated with a swell of energy and power. The wings of the ship lowered to the side and the heavy vessel lifted off the surface of the platform. The landing gear headed back into their ports and the nose of the ship turned in the direction of the skyline.

The Marauder had just begun it's next journey, traveling to the next planet for a brand new mission. The Bad Batch ended up spending over three months on Coruscant, which is the longest they ever stayed in one place at a time.

With their leave, Y/n had handed the sergeant a hologram device as something to remember her by. It was just a simple hologram of herself, but it was something that he cherished deeply from that day forward. On the bottom of the device, Y/n also left her comm channel in case he ever wanted to reach out to her.

Over the course of the next two years, Hunter and Y/n called each other on numerous occasions when neither of them were busy with senate business or faraway missions. Those rare moments alone together reminded them of their time spent together, becoming one of the best pastimes during solitude.

As the war continued to wage across the galaxy, the demands for a sergeant and a senator were becoming more prominent. Their once regular calls suddenly dwindled into months of silence at a time. Despite this, their feelings towards one another never changed. Both of them secretly dreamed of what life would look like after the war, picturing the dream of a much-awaited reunion with one another. And something told them that it was good to have dreams.

EPILOGUE HERE

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quicktosimp · 3 months

Text

Why Can't You See?

Summary: The RDA has returned. Since their return, we have not only been fighting with the humans but Jake and I cannot see eye to eye anymore. No matter how hard I try, Jake and I seem to be falling apart. I want to fight for our mateship, but I don't know how much longer I can fight.

Warnings: Canon violence, Disassociation, Attempted Smut (No Actual Smut)

I will never regret the day I met the Sully’s. They are the loves of my life, and I will always cherish them. Having four kids with them was another great gift from Eywa. But I am so tired.

Ever since the humans came back to Pandora, Neytiri and I have taken over the brunt of parenting; not only that, but we have had to fix everything Jake has been doing. He demands and orders the children, especially the boys, to do outrageous things that they end up failing. I then have to go around and reassure the boys before turning around and talking with Jake about it, leading to another argument: Neytiri standing between us, trying to get the two of us to see reason. This has gone on for over a year now, but today is going to be a good day. The raid has been planned to perfection. It’s going to be an in-and-out operation: blow up the tracks, grab the weaponry and supplies, and get out. We already have our chosen spotters: several men who passed their Iknimaya a little after Jake and I did.

Jake and I lead the team, himself in the air on Bob, while I lead the ground forces on pa’li. My warriors were beside me as we waited for our signal. My anxious emotions were fed back to me by my pa’li, our tsaheylu keeping us connected. My pa’li stomped her hoves impatiently., I sent a wave of calmness to her as I pat her neck soothingly, never taking my eyes off the target.

Over the comms, I heard Jake say, “Ground teams go,” And we were off.

The resounding sounds of battle cries rang through the air as we raced our way to the tracks. The explosives went off with a bang, turning the tracks to scrap metal, and the train itself flew off the rails, flinging into multiple pieces. Rolling over and on top of each other, each causing their own explosion. The fires were horrendously hot, and the sweltering heat nearly unbearable, but everything had gone as planned.

I watched as Jake swooped down from the sky, shooting at the aircraft with a cry, Neytiri following after him with her bow, releasing a cry of her own. I shook my bow, releasing my own cry after them, pleased with the results, as I watched the carrier crash.

“Go! Go!” I shouted at my warriors as we surrounded the crash, “We don’t have long, you know the plan! Stick to your stations!” I ordered as we got into position.

We all got to work; as the air team landed, I noticed that our spotters were on the ground, concerned I reached for my comm, “Devil Dog, you read me? Our spotters are on the ground; who’s in the air?” I asked assertively.

I was handed several more crates before my ear twitched with Jake’s response, “Fireball, we ended up with two more; I put them on spotting, so we have more on the ground.”

I growled as my irritation rose. Damn Jake and changing the plans without telling me.

“We’ll talk about this later,” I growled into the comms before running back to my pa’li and offloading what was in my arms.

I ran back into the crash site as Jake landed. He watched over the scene, his gun in hand, but did not move a finger in helping us. Neytiri was on the ground, ordering those into collective files. The screeching of our ikrans and our battle cried, making it difficult to hear anything.

“Let’s go, two minutes, people, let's go,” Jake’s voice rang in my ear.

I relayed the information, “Two minutes! Let’s go!”

In my haste, I brushed off what I thought was Neteyam’s voice; my boys are back at High Ground; it’s just my paranoia.

On the other side of the destruction, I could hear Norm explaining to grab the high-priority items. I grabbed several more cases of RPGs and ammunition before I noticed my pa’li could carry no more. I swung onto my steed and shouted a call to my warriors, signaling it was time to head out. I looked over to my warriors, watching as they all mounted their pa’li when I heard a war cry, Lo’ak’s war cry. My eyes looked over the wreckage, trying to spot my son, but instead, I was met with the sight of a gunship. A spotter called it first, sounding the alarm.

“Gunships in bound fall back!” Jake’s voice came through the com.

I hastily replied, “I heard Eagal Eye on the ground! I’m going in!”

I sent the warriors on their way as I rushed my pa’li into the destruction.

“Negative Fireball, I have it handled. Head back to base,” Jake ordered through the comm, but I refused even to reply, instead forcing my pa’li faster.

The gunship fired two shots, blowing up the nearby ground and supplies; someone quickly shot at the gunship, taking out one of its propellers, quickly causing the gunship to spiral and crash. I continued on, the dust and debris coating my face and lungs as the heat became worse than before.

“Lo’ak! Neteyam!” I called as I looked for my sons.

“Lo’ak, where are you? Neteyam?” Jake yelled nearby.

I spotted Jake crouched over; as I approached, I saw Lo’ak in Jake’s arms. I was too relieved to be angry, seeing that Lo’ak was okay. I jumped off my pa’li, joining the two.

“Lo’ak! Are you okay?” I quickly checked over for any injuries.

Lo’ak quickly nodded his head wordlessly.

“Where’s your brother?” Jake demanded.

Lo’ak attempted to stutter out an answer, only successfully pointing to a general area.

“You two get out of here; go on!” Jake demanded as he continued for Neteyam.

It felt like a knife had been twisted in my chest, the idea of leaving one of my sons. But Lo’ak was in shock, and I needed to get him home.

I hold Lo’ak’s face in my hands, “Alright, come on, we gotta get out of here; your dad's got Neteyam, okay?”I moved down and grabbed Lo’ak’s hand, pulling him along.

I rushed through the wreckage, pulling Lo’ak behind me and onto my pa’li, and with a yip, we were off. As we sped through the jungle, I could feel Lo’ak’s arms trembling around me. I reached around and patted at his hair, trying to soothe him the best I could. As we arrived at the meeting place, I helped Lo’ak off my pa’li before turning to the stolen goods.

“Alright, Lo’ak, I need your help. Grab some equipment and load it onto the ikrans,” I explain simply, knowing Lo’ak needs direct instructions.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Lo’ak answered.

I grabbed his arm, gently pulling him to me; I brushed his braids out of his face, “I don’t care where we are; I’m not a ma’am to you; I’m your Mama.”

A small smile slipped over Lo’ak’s face, “Yes, Mama,” Before he went and continued his duties.

As we continued to transfer the weaponry, the pit in my stomach built. Not knowing if my other son was okay if Jake got Neteyam out of there, was Neteyam hurt? I chewed my lip as I worked on. I watched as Lo’ak started acting like himself again, a bit nervous but much better than before. My team didn’t take long, as soon we were all in the air on our ikrans. I searched the sky furiously, skewering for any signs of my family. Lo’ak flying close to me, he yipped for my attention; as I looked over, he pointed at three ikrans, Neytiri, Jake, and Neteyam. I was finally able to breathe again, seeing Neteyam well enough that he could fly on his own. But as my chest eased from worry, anger took its place. Neither of the kids was to be on this mission, yet Jake wasn’t even surprised! Because he knew, he chanced out the spotters; Lo’ak and Neteyam were the new spotters. Jake deliberately went behind my back and put the kids on the mission! By the time we landed, I was seething, my anger causing me to shake.

“Sa’nu! Mama!” I heard Tuk yell as he hugged Neytiri.

I bent over and embraced Tuk and Neytiri, an arm around both of them, using this moment to calm my ire.

“Fall in,” Jake demanded gruffly, sounding just as pissed as I was.

I couldn’t stop the growl from slipping past my lips as the rage bloomed again. Neytiri and Tuk looked at me, Neytiri with concern and Tuk startled. I placed a kiss on Tuk’s forehead as I watched Lo’ak and Neteyam slowly walk over to stand in front of Jake, both nervous about the outcome.

And Jake started right into them, “You’re supposed to be spotters. You spot bogeys, and you call ‘em in. From a distance!” Jake’s voice was angry but also wobbled in fear as he got into Neteyam’s face, “Does any of this sound familiar?” Jake turned to Lo’ak, demanding, “Get here!” Lo’ak slowly walked over as Kiri went to check on Neteyam, and Jake continued on, “Jesus! I let you two geniuses fly a mission, and you disobey direct orders.” Neteyam couldn’t even look Jake in the eye as his and Lo’ak’s tails flickered nervously.

Jake turned to Kiri, “Kiri, can you go help your grandmother with the wounded? Please?” His voice was softer yet urgent with our eldest daughter.

Kiri looked at Jake and snarked, “My brother is wounded.”

Neteyam tried to brush off his injuries as Jake pleaded with Kiri, “Baby girl, please,” Tuk had wandered over to Lo’ak, trying to hold his hand, before Jake snapped at Tuk, “Tuk, go with her! Go!”

Our daughters sighed before walking away.

“Dad. Sir, I take full responsibility,” Neteyam started, trying to placate Jake.

“Yeah, you do. That’s right. ‘Cause you’re the older brother. You gotta act like it,” Jake snapped at Neteyam.

My anger could take no more, “That is enough, Jake,” I hissed at him, fangs barred.

Jake stepped back, shocked by my sudden outburst.

“You want to talk about responsibility? As parents, we had agreed that none of the kids would see the battlefield until they were 18, yet you went behind Neytiri and I’s back doing this. We already knew that they weren't mature enough for this! The responsibility for all of it is on you!” I growled out, my eyes wide, as I stalked forward, putting myself between Jake and the boys.

I force myself to speak calmly, “Boys, go to your grandmother; we will continue this later,” But my eyes never left Jake.

“No! We are not done yet!” Jake demanded as the boys tried to walk away.

I hissed in response, causing Jake to flinch again.

“Ma’Jake, your son is actually bleeding,” Neytiri, the voice of reason, calmly intervenes.

“Sa’nu, it is fine. I..” Neteyam attempted to brush off again.

Jake shook his head, “Just go and get patched up. Go on, dismissed.”

Neteyam walked away, Neytiri following him as she looked back at Jake and me, worried about leaving us there for the moment.

“You do understand that you almost got your brother killed?” Jake demeanded from Lo’ak.

“Yes, Sir,” Lo’ak agreed degectively.

“Absolutely not,” I shut that down, “Lo’ak, you and Neteyam shouldn’t have been there in the first place. No, you shouldn’t have disobeyed your father's orders, and for that, you will be grounded, but the rest of it is on you, Jake,” I quickly turned to Jake.

Jake opened his mouth to speak, only to stop short, turning to Lo’ak, “You’re grounded. No flying for a month. Now see to the ikran. All of ‘em,” Despite wanting to protest, I agreed with the punishment.

“Yes, Sir,” Lo’ak responded numbly.

And because Jake can’t keep his mouth shut, “And get that crap off your face,” He demanded before attempting to storm off.

I grab Jake’s arm, glaring at him, “This conversation is not over,” I growled before moving away and checking on Lo’ak.

Lo’ak was sulking as he went to bring Bob away; he looked up at me, his eyes dejected.

“Lo’ak, come here,” I demanded softly, opening my arms for him.

Sluggishly, he shuffles his way to me, wrapping his arms around me as I pull him into a hug. I rest my cheek on top of his head and cradle him close.

“I love you so much, Lo’ak; you know that, right?” I ask him gently.

I could feel him nod his head as he hummed affirmatively.

“And while your father is horrible at admitting it, you know that Jake loves you, right?” I ask again, needing to know.

There was a pause before Lo’ak hesitantly nodded again. Tears pricked at my eyes. Lo’ak should never have to hesitate, yet here I am, holding my son as questions if his own father loves him.

I kissed the top of his head before whispering, “I promise you, Lo’ak. Jake loves you; he loves every single one of you. I’m not going to go against Jake with your punishment, but I will be talking with him, okay?”

“Okay, Mama. Can I go now? I have a lot to do,” Lo’ak asked but made no move to leave my arms.

“You can leave whenever you feel like it,” I answer, rubbing his back soothingly.

Lo’ak hugged me tighter before regretfully letting go, “Thank you, Mama.”

“You don’t have to thank me for loving you, baby, because that is what I was made to do,” I explain lovingly to him.

Lo’ak gave me a small smile before walking away. I smile sadly, wishing I could do more right now. I shake my head before spotting Spider out of the corner of my eye—the little human boy who hangs out a lot. I smile at him as I walk over.

“Hello, Spider,” I greet calmly, “I’m sorry you had to see all that,” I apologized, seeing how uncomfortable he was.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Sully, I know you didn’t mean it,” Spider sheepishly replied.

I frowned slightly, “No, Spider, it’s not okay; none of you kids should have seen that. And as an adult, I am in the wrong. I should have handled that better, and that is why I’m apologizing to you,” I placed a hand on his shoulder, “And none of that Mrs. Sully stuff, it’s (Y/N), or you can call me Mama too if you want. You’ve always been my third son,” I smile softly at the teenager.

“Thank you, Mrs., um, (Y/N), um,” Spider stumbled.

I chuckled lightly at him, “Don’t worry about it, kid. Now, why don’t you come over later? I know Lo’ak and Kiri would love to see you and have an excuse to leave the kelku.”

Spider brightened up at the offer, “Will do, Mrs-, Ma-, (Y/N)!”

“Anytime, Spider, it is always a joy when you're around.”

Spider brightened even more, smiling joyfully at me, “I’m- I’m going to go help Lo’ak now,” He explained, backing away.

“Thank you, Spider; I’ll see you later with Lo’ak,” I watch him walk away to tend to the ikran with Lo’ak.

But as I stood there, all the emotions from the day hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t know where to scream, cry, shout, punch something. It’s all there, trapping me in place, slowly leaving me numb. A pair of arms wrapped around me, one gentle hand moving my face, revealing Neytiri. Her face was sorrowful as she watched me.

“Ma’Muntxate, today has been hard on you, hasn’t it?” Neytiri’s voice was soothing.

I nod my head, feeling like I was moving through molasses.

“I got you, Syulang,” Neytiri cooed as she grabbed my arms, leading me off somewhere.

I let her lead me aimlessly, the world nothing more than a blur as my emotions shut off completely. It seemed like it had been mere moments and yet hours simultaneously, but I felt warm. Gentle minstrains along my body, bringing feelings of comfort. I slowly looked around, noticing I was no longer at the High Ground but instead in a small hot spring hidden in the forest. The lush green calmed me. I breathed deeply, noticing that my armored vest was gone, as was my tewng. The colors of my war paint long gone, leaving me bare, just (Y/N), not a warrior, not a marine, not a parent, not a mate fighting for her children, just (Y/N).

“Are you back with me, Tìyawn?” Neytiri asked as she pressed her naked body to mine, holding me close.

I sluggishly wrapped my arms around her waist, leaning my head on her shoulder, “Yeah, ‘m back,” My voice was as sluggish as my body.

We stand there holding each other in the hot spring, simply enjoying each other's presence.

“Do you remember the first time we found this place?” Neytiri asked me as she threaded her fingers in my hair.

“Yeah, it was when you were teaching Jake still. He had gone and done something stupid. You walked off, and I followed. Didn’t think I’d find your bathing,” I chuckled lightly.

“I was planning on doing much more than bathing, but I heard you coming. Your footsteps were so loud back then,” She chuckled in return.

“Much more? Damn, maybe I should have waited a bit longer,” I hummed appreciatively.

“Skxawng,” Neytiri mumbled back.

“What, that would have been nice. You’d probably have plucked my eyes out, but it would have been worth it,” I smile so hard it hurts my face.

I lay a small kiss on Neytiri’s neck; she sighs, leaning her head to give me more room. I continue leaving open-mouthed kisses along her neck, sucking her flesh into my mouth, knowing that marks will be left in their wake. Neytiri threads her fingers into my hair, pulling me closer as one of her hands travels south. But her touch didn’t bring the pleasure it usually does, instead leaving me wanting to get away. I tried to push through it, only for a sob to break through.

I back off slowly, disappointed in myself, “I’m sorry, Love, but I can’t right now.” I blinked back tears, hating that I couldn’t give Neytiri what she needed right now.

Neytiri pulled my face so we were face to face, her forehead resting on mine, “Do not apologize for something you cannot control, Yawnetu. Now come, rest with me.”

I let her pull me deeper into the hot spring. A small ledge in the water allows us to sit submerged up to our necks. Neytiri pulls me into her lap, holding me close as I wrap my arms around her neck.

For now, everything is fine.

Taglist: @loakstahni, @eywaite

Dividers by @cafekitsune

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originalcollectionartistry · 7 months

Text

To be Claimed - NSFW version

Hello friends! I found these marriage prompts by @brainbright for our favorite batchers! I immediately felt they struck gold and pushed this fic out in 12 hours.

I have two versions of this fic: a sfw and a nsfw. The sfw one ends before the smut begins so if you want to avoid smut, I'll link the SFW one here.

CW: brief violence, mention of misogyny, revealing of feelings, idiots in love. Unprotected sex, PiV, light gagging, oral (M! receiving), fingering, clit play, aftersex cuddles.

Hunter x reader

Word count: 3100

Enjoy!!

You didn’t expect the mission to go as it did, but all of you were alive. That’s what mattered to you. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Tech were all alive and Omega was safe at Cid’s. That’s all you could ask for.

Cid came to you with a new mission. In exchange for some pure spice, you and your Batch were to offer protection for a week to a leader from this backwater planet. The culture was rather archaic. Women were subservient and silent, to be seen and not heard and the men handled everything. Being on that planet made you grateful to have grown up on Naboo. You were in the same classes as Padme Amidala, or Naberrie as you knew her. You were quite a bit younger than her though. She excelled in her politics and academics, while you were more a physical girl. You would rather settle a fight with your fists than words.

You made the decision to keep your helmet on the whole time you were on this planet. Tech modified your armour to give you more protection on your chest and midsection, so your gender wasn’t obvious to others as it was to your squad. You were grateful for the voice modulator. It deepened your voice a bit, so it just sounded like you were effeminate man.

You were protecting the leader of this community for a week from some assassin. You didn’t know which assassin was after the leader, but you knew there were more bounty hunters around trying to lure you away from the leader. They’d threaten locals to make you distracted. So, you and Tech were stationed with the leader, while Echo, Hunter and Wrecker took care of the other troublemakers. As you waited for the all clear to move the chief from Hunter, you and Tech conversed quietly.

“You are certainly mistaken. There is nothing going on between Phee and I.”

Rolling your eyes, you pointed out that Phee flirted with him constantly with every encounter you had with the pirate.

“Tech, she calls you Brown Eyes at every opportunity! She pays more attention to you than any of us! She’s clearly into you.”

Glancing up at you from his datapad, Tech shook his head. “Regardless, I have no interest in pursuing Phee romantically. Not when I have the squad to look out for.”

That was the one thing you loved and admired about Tech. He’d sacrifice everything for his family without question or hesitance. You only hoped he wouldn’t get himself killed protecting everyone.

“Alright boys let’s move the bird out!” you heard Hunter through the comms.

You lightly pulled the chief to his feet as Tech told him it was time to move. Tech pulled up the rear as you held the lead, blaster in hand. You shot at every bounty hunter you saw, hoping to deter others from trying anything.

As you rounded a corner, you nearly met your fate at the end of a blaster barrel. You paused, looking at the blue skinned woman in front of you. You recognized her deadlocked ponytail and single antenna and clocked that Aurra Sing was in front of you.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” she sneered. “My target handed to me on a silver platter by two clones.”

You pushed the blaster away from your face. “Sing. I should’ve smelled your disgusting perfume from atmosphere,” you hissed.

Chuckling, Aurra took aim at you again. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m the last thing you see before you die.”

“Like kark!” You pushed her aside, pinning her to the garden wall, shouting at Tech to move. If someone was gonna die, it was gonna be Aurra Sing. The bounty hunter took far too much from you during the clone war and so you had a little vendetta.

She kneed you in the torso, causing you to be winded for a moment. You immediately swung back, clocking her in her nose. As she backed away holding her nose, you kicked her head, bending her antenna.

Aurra became furious, lunging at you and pinning you to the ground on your back. You gritted your teeth, pushing her off as best you could but she had the advantage. Aurra took your viroblade from its sheath and moved it to your neck. As it dug closer to your jugular, you thought of your squad and how you’d miss them if you didn’t push her off.

Blaster shots rang out from your right, causing Aurra to pause in her assault on you. You turned your head, seeing Hunter and Wrecker firing at the assassin. Aurra quickly got off you and bolted, firing back at your boys.

Eventually, another bounty hunter picked Aurra up from your pursuit of her. You fired your blaster again at the small ship, hoping to bring it down but she escaped again. You prayed someone would take her out one day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and the boys were celebrated as heroes and offered a feast in compensation. Never one to turn down a way to keep Wrecker full, you all gladly accepted. There was music and dancing and singing, in a way you’d never seen before. Sure, you had had parades on Naboo but nothing this extravagant. There were colours of red, blue, turquoise, orange and many more. You were carried on these little mini beds by some locals. You and Echo sat side by side, admiring all the colours and festivities.

“So, you gonna say something to Hunter? Once we’re back on the ship?” he murmured into your comm channel.

You looked at him through your helmet. You almost regretted telling Echo about your feelings toward your sergeant. Sure, there was nothing to stop you now from fraternising with squad mates, but the gods know there was something stopping you from revealing your feelings.

“Depends on how the rest of this goes. There’s always chaos to follow us so I’m just waiting for it to reveal itself.”

Reveal itself it did. As soon as you were all seated the leader gave a speech in their native tongue before gesturing to you to eat. You removed your helmet for the first time in days, grateful to breathe fresh air and eat fresh food. A collective gasp rung out from everyone except you and the boys, confusing you as you took small bites.

The leader and the elders look furious, yelling at you in their language. You were scared and confused, looking to Tech for an explanation.

Tech put his helmet back on and translated quickly, fearing the worst for your safety.

“Apparently, they are accusing us. We deceived them into thinking we were all men. According to tradition, all women of marrying age who step foot in the chief’s house, as we did early this week, are automatically married to him unless they are already claimed. Since you are of marrying age and do not seem to be claimed, he claims you as his wife.”

As Tech finished his translation, you were yanked from your seat and dragged through the seating to be thrown at the chief’s feet. You yelled and screamed, begging the boys to help you. They did, but not in the way you had expected. You almost wanted to face palm.

“She is claimed though!” Wrecker yelled out, looking to Echo for support.

Echo nodded, playing along. “Yes, she’s claimed by our Sergeant! They were wed last year!”

The leader looked from you to Hunter and back. Spitting out another question, Tech translated, going along with this idea. “He asked why we didn’t reveal that upon arrival. Why such deception?”

Echo looked to Hunter, who was both furious and concerned for your wellbeing, and tilted his head almost to say, ‘do something!’. Hunter was shocked at the turn of events but over his dead body you stay here as some archaic cultures wife. He came up to you and pulled you up to your feet. Pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, he pulled you closer. You nuzzled into his chest, fearing for your life. You had no idea this culture was that antiquated. Hunter brought his hand to your head and started to gently stroke your hair, making it look like a husband consoling his wife.

“We didn’t want to put the other in danger. Should anyone find out we were wed, they would use it against us. We never meant to deceive you.” Hunter had Tech translate.

Hunter led you to the seat next to him. “You okay with this?” he whispered.

You smiled weakly, hating that this was the improvised plan the boys chose. “I kind of have to be, don’t I? You sure you’re okay with playing husband?”

Hunter took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently. He could feel the leader’s anger at him and at you, so he laid the lovesickness on thick. Pulling you closer, kissing your temple, holding your hand and much more. You were blushing like crazy, wanting nothing more than this to be real. Gods you wanted this to be real. Hunter was so good at being loving. You wished more than anything that this was real, and you really were married.

As the festivities settled back into joyous ruckus, the boys encouraged you and Hunter to move into a private area so you could discuss things a bit more. You needed to make things convincing if you were to get out of there as one squad. You didn’t really want to leave the other three, but Hunter agreed it would make it look like you finally had some alone time as husband and wife. Shifting from one foot to the other, you reluctantly agreed to follow Hunter away from the celebration.

Hunter led you to secluded clearing, a short walk from the tents of the settlement. You sat on the ground, not facing him. He sat next to you, listening quietly to your heartbeat. You did not want to make the first move. You had no idea what to say!

Smiling, Hunter pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You froze a second but relaxed into his hold. Taking a breath, you finally spoke.

“I’m gonna kill Echo. I should never have told him about my feelings for you.”

Chuckling, Hunter squeezed your shoulders. “You really thought you could hide those from me? I can feel your heartbeat, I can smell your scents, and I certainly read your body language well enough.”

You froze again. You were a complete nong! Of course, Hunter could tell! He could feel the electromagnetic pulses from a base halfway across the planet! He would obviously be able to tell you had feelings.

Pursing your lips, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Figured you’d say something when you felt the time was right. Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Laughing, you elbowed his ribs gently. “Well, you failed at that! I’m so embarrassed.”

Smiling and laughing with you, Hunter let his head fall to meet yours gently. “You wouldn’t have had to worry about rejection. The others have known about my feelings since you joined us back in the Clone War. Didn’t want to endanger you by risking fraternisation.”

Your heart was ready to burst out of your chest. The man you had held feelings for, all this time wanted you just as much! Leaning in, you brushed your lips lightly over his, letting him control the rest. You could feel your heart beating harshly in your chest, and you knew Hunter could feel it too.

Hunter, softly took your chin and pulled you back to his lips, giving you a fiercer kiss than what you gave him. It felt amazing, to finally have his lips caress yours in a way you’d only had imagined prior to today. His were slightly chapped yet soft, pressing to yours softly as you keened for more.

Hunter pulled you onto his lap, having you straddle his hips to have a better angle to kiss you. His hands met your hips, lightly pulling you down to meet his pelvis. Your kisses eventually became heated, as your hands pulled at his chest plate, wanting it off.

Moving to your neck, leaving little kisses and bruises, Hunter whispered into your skin, “Should we head back to the ship?”

Smiling, you pulled his hair lightly to bring his lips back to yours. “Oh, kriff yes!”

Hunter smirked, lifting you up from the ground. You wrapped your legs around his torso so you wouldn’t fall.

You let your legs drop, so you could run to the ship. You pulled Hunter along, you both laughing the whole 5 minutes to the ship. Hunter captured your lips once again as you walked up the gangplank. Your brain was turning to mush, and you quickly locked the ship down, lest one of the boys return before getting your message.

Hunter kissed down your neck, deftly pulling your breastplate off, letting it fall to the floor. One by one, armour came off and blacks were slipped off. Your breastband was left on as Hunter laid you onto his bunk. His large hands moved up and down your body, almost as if he was trying to memorize what your skin felt like. He leaned down, capturing your lips once again, caressing your skin before hooking your leg over his hip. He rolled his hips into your pelvis, creating friction for you against your clit.

You let out a moan, so sinful Hunter could’ve cum right there. His hands moved up to your breasts, pulling the band up and off. Kneading your left breast, his mouth descended onto your right. Tongue circling your nipple, causing gasps and moans to escape your mouth. He was so talented with his mouth. How was he so talented with his mouth? In all your time with the Batch they never brought a single woman back. How was he so good?

One hand left your breast and travelled down to your clit. Hunter gently pressed one finger against it before circling it. Your back arched off the bed, begging for more. Chuckling, Hunter removed his fingers, licking them clean of your juices.

“You don’t think I’d let you come that easy?”

Whining, you pulled him closer to you again, wanting to feel him close to you again. You kissed him hard, flipping the two of you over so you straddled him. Your hand slid up from his neck into his hair, pulling his bandana from his head. You tied it back around your neck, just loose enough you could put it in your mouth if needed.

Hunter smirked, loving the image of his bandana in your mouth. Groaning, he felt your hand caress his cock. Deftly, up, and down but never actually wrapping your hand around. You were teasing him, just as he teased you. You took it a step further, slowly sliding off him until you knelt on the cold metal floor of the Marauder. Hunter sat up, confused until he felt your hand caress him again. Only this time, he felt something warm and wet. Your tongue had felt up from the base and circled around his tip. He was in heaven, feeling your skilled mouth on his. You always had a smart mouth, but dear gods had he known your other skill sets sooner, he would’ve told the GAR to kriff themselves and take you for himself.

Sucking softly, you bobbed your head, wanting to give Hunter all the pleasure he deserved. His hand slid into your hair, gripping by your scalp causing a little moan to come out of you. His hips started to thrust gently into the back of your throat, groans turned into soft grunts, and he quickly pulled you off him.

You looked up, wondering if you had hurt him at all but he quickly pulled you up into a kiss.

“If you had done that anymore, I would’ve come down your throat,” he growled.

“Maybe that was my plan,” you smirked.

He threw you back onto the bunk, finally having enough teasing. He crawled back on top of you, kissing fiercely. He pulled up and grasped his throbbing cock. He rubbed some of your arousal on before slowly pushing into you. You cried out in ecstasy, so loud Hunter pulled the bandana from your neck into your mouth. It was a good look for you he decided.

He slowly started to thrust in and out, relishing in how you felt around him. Warm and soft, yet you clenched around him so sweetly. You had no idea how much pleasure you’d be in but all you knew was you were on another place of pleasurable existence. You met each one of his thrusts, feeling a delicious friction against your clit. You felt that knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter, the heat between your legs growing hotter and hotter.

You could tell Hunter was getting close as well. His hips were starting to stutter but he didn’t stop. His hand travelled down to your clit and rubbed furiously. The overstimulation causing that band inside to snap and break. You saw white behind your eyes, pulling Hunter in for a kiss.

His hips stuttered once more, and you felt warmth coat your insides. Hunter collapsed on top of you, careful not to squish you with his body weight. You both stayed like that for a moment before he rolled off you. He pulled you into his side, relishing in your closeness. Humming in contentment, you snuggled closer, wrapping your leg over one of his.

Hunter absentmindedly caressed you shoulder with his fingers, loving the feeling of you next to him.

“You think the others got our message yet?”

You chuckled. “I’d be surprised if Tech did not get our message. He never takes his eyes off his datapad.”

“Very true… Wanna go again?”

You smiled against his chest. “In a minute. I just want to lay here a moment.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Echo was watching Wrecker show off his strength to some locals when all their comms beeped with a message from Hunter.

You might wanna avoid the Marauder for a few hours. We have some more things to discuss ;)

Groaning, Echo settled in for the night in his seat, waiting for Wrecker to switch weights until they got a comm, saying your “talk” was finished.

“It was only a matter of time,” Tech reasoned. “They’ve been pining for years now.”

Echo grimaced, knowing Tech was correct. This was gonna be a long night.

I hope you enjoyed it! Hopefully my writing is a bit better than last time!

As always, criticism is welcome as long as it's kind and constructive.

#ao3 fanfic #sw tbb #star wars the bad batch #fanfic #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #clone thirsting #clone simp #hunter smut #spicy hunter #bad batch smut #clone smut #reader insert

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drurrito · 1 month

Text

Welcome Aboard

A/N: Cranked out my first fic for Carol. All mistakes are mine.

Pairings: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: A little bit of angst and alcohol use

----------------

Carol never has visitors.

When the boarding request pops up on her communications system, she almost blows it to bits, it's a sound she hasn't heard in years. It takes her a few seconds to finally press the button to speak to whoever is waiting on the other side.

"Who's there?" she finally asks.

"Captain Marvel?" a voice responds, "I'm agent y/n, I'm here from S.A.B.E.R. Our comms are down indefinitely, so Fury sent me over to do a briefing."

Carol looks over at Goose, who's stretched out across the navigation station, unbothered by the news of an unexpected guest. Carol tries to emulate the same attitude, striding over to the door to greet you like she's done this plenty of times. She used to at some point, that has to count for something, right?

She loses her bravado as soon as she finds you standing in the entryway.

"Captain Marvel, it's a pleasure to meet you," you stick your hand out and Carol takes it after a beat too long. You don't take offense, Fury gave you the rundown on how long Carol has been isolated. It only took a few minutes to conclude that being a multi-galactic hero is a lonely job.

Carol doesn't stand around for too long, she hurries into the ship after inviting you in.

"Excuse the mess, been a while since someone's been aboard," she apologizes, tossing a single loose shirt into a hamper in the corner and tidying a pillow that was definitely knocked over by Goose.

"It's no problem, are you ready to start the briefing?"

"Sure, you want a drink or anything? Besides water, I think there's a few bottles of brew from Aladna hiding in the back of the fridge," Carol is already halfway to the kitchen, oblivious to the quizzical look on your face.

"I'm okay, Captain, honest," you flash her a friendly smile, and she feels the air escape her lungs. Her shoulders descend from her ears as she walks over to the chair across from you. You're too busy pulling up the agenda to notice.

Carol gingerly takes a seat, her hands rubbing vigorously against her thighs. She might be the first person to grate their hands on denim jeans at this rate. You're still looking for the agenda when Carol springs up from her seat, "are you sure you're not hungry? I'm so sorry, I should have offered before-"

"Captain?"

"Yes?" Her eyebrows were about to launch into orbit, she was already a few paces away from the kitchen, scraping the farthest corners of her mind for that recipe she learned from a family she helped a few galaxies ago.

"I'm okay, really."

"Right," she hurries over to the chair again and lets her body unceremoniously drop into it, vowing to herself she'll never get up from this spot unless she absolutely needs to. She looks up to see you waiting patiently for her go-ahead. Despite traveling to the furthest edges of the universe, she's never seen anything like the color of your eyes.

She collects herself quickly before saying, "let's get started."

---------------

The briefing was mostly successful. Turns out your agenda was outdated, the correct one must have been wiped out from the surge that knocked out the comms. You had to ad-lib everything that was left out and corrected anything that was no longer relevant. Carol watched you intently the whole time, like the fate of the universe depended on scheduled ship maintenances and admin tasks.

"There's still one thing, it was from a meeting last week," you stand, pacing back and forth trying to jog your memory.

"I'm sure it's in there somewhere, maybe we can take a look with these?" Carol is holding two memory dive devices. You've never had to use them before, but you know everything there is to know about how they work.

"Good idea Captain."

"You can call me Carol, agent, it's alright," she hands you one of the devices.

"Thank you," you just nod and take the device, Carol pretends the way your fingers brushed against hers for a fleeting second didn't just make her spine tingle. She lets you take her bed while she sits in the tattered recliner she's been meaning to get rid of.

----------------

It all happens so fast.

One second you're watching the memory of you sitting in a briefing room with Fury and your colleagues, the next, you're watching Carol's memory of Maria telling her to take Goose.

"The cancer came back."

You can only watch a few more blurs of Carol's memory before you jolt upright. Your body is so tense, all you can do is let out a shuddering breath and a few tears.

"Y/n?" Carol is already by your side, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen."

Her voice is distant, like she's calling to you from the other end of the galaxy in the deepest cave. You're still trying to get your bearings, that was far too much pain packed into what was only seconds with the mind dive.

"Can you look at me? Please?"

She sounds much closer now, you turn to look at her and suddenly remember where you are. Your breath is still unsteady as you wipe the half-dried tears on your cheeks, embarrassed over being reduced to tears.

"That...those were your memories," you finally speak, Carol sighs in relief. Her hands have been hovering between your shoulders and face this whole time, unsure if touching you was the best idea.

"Yeah, they were," she straightens up, taking the device from your hands and tossing both aside.

"I've been trying to remember everything...before, well, everything," Carol starts again, looking at anything but you, "I'm so sorry, if I knew that was going to happen I wouldn't have-"

She's cut off by the feeling of your arms pulling her against you. She almost forgot how much she loves hugs, almost.

Carol returns the favor and wraps her arms around you. You both stay like that for a while. Loss is one of the first lessons a hero learns, but it doesn't mean they're impervious to its effects, especially with how often it happens. Carol is trying to convey how sorry she is with every circle she rubs into your back. You only part when it seems like the dust has finally settled.

"I think I'll take that beer now," you say after heavy sigh. Carol gives you a sympathetic smile before heading to the fridge.

----------------

Carol explains everything that you saw.

She also tells you stories about her life before this one, and her adventures from roaming the galaxies. You did a poor job of trying to stifle your giggling when she mentioned being married to Aladna's prince to resolve a "legal issue." That earned you some side eye and an eventual smirk.

Carol swears she's mostly made peace with everything that happened, but you both know it weighs heavy on her from time to time.

Especially during long stretches of solitude like this one.

Goose saunters over to you and spills over your feet belly-up with a lazy "meow," a prime position for scratches.

"Goose is probably stoked to get scritches from someone other than me," Carol quips into the mouth of her beer.

"I could do this all day," you say without a second thought and Carol's smile reaches her eyes.

"Carol, I want my agent back," Fury chimes in over comms.

"I'll think about it," Carol says coolly as she takes a swig from her beer, you stand up out of habit from hearing Fury's voice.

"He's right, I should probably go, there's going to be million things to do now that comms are back up."

"Of course, let me walk you out," Carol sets her bottle down and leads you to the doorway. Seems like you only walked through there a few minutes ago. Time is playing tricks on you, it seems.

"Stay safe out there," Carol says.

"You too, Carol," you trade smiles, committing hers to memory by the time she pulls you in for a hug.

"Thank you," she whispers, hugging you tighter for a few seconds before finally letting you go.

----------------

"So?" Fury is the first to greet you when you arrive at the station.

"Pretending comms is down just to give her human interaction is kind of evil...yet genius," you shake your head with a smile.

"I know she gets lonely out there, she'll never admit it. This is the least I can do," he shrugs before turning on his heel. He walks a few steps before turning to you again.

"Same time next month, agent y/n?"

"Of course sir."

He gives you a curt nod with a knowing smirk before finally leaving.

#works #alright #im gonna let you in on a secret #captain marvel is my all time favorite superhero #which is why it's taken me forever to write something for her #she's a point-fiver for me so it's hard to fathom writing anything for her #but here's an attempt #carol danvers #captain marvel #carol x reader #captain marvel x you #carol x you #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers x reader

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thecapybara526 · 1 year

Text

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 9

Avatar : the way of water

Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader

Note: we are nearing the end! Thank you for the support. Love you all. I updated and added more details. So if you already read. Read it again

Tags: @whos3rn @marastarz @bangtanxberm

@fanboyluvr @seriesstuff

@kevincostners1mommy @sw3atbaby

@pheonixisswag @grace-928

@raven887209 @kucingberkokok

@rainyreens @pearlrosegardener

@briefwinnerpersonaturtle @itzyourgurlnihya @minajshi

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@saturn-is-falling-blog @owaowoawawa

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@dakotail @lostprincee @einchenhouseproperty @ghostjoohoney @senassn @yosoy8a-blog @secretreader @imthefunniestpersonalive

Part 9

You felt useless; you pulled at the ties on your wrists. Almost as meaningless as Spider probably felt when he was instantly grabbed before he could help up and escorted away.

“It's not going to work,” Lo’ak whispered.

“What are we supposed to do sit here and wait?” You growled at him

“Yes. We wait for our moment” taking took a deep breath you listened to him and tried to relax

Quarich came over and ripped the comm from Lo’ak’s neck. He hissed.

“Come on out Jake.” after a couple minutes of silence he took out his gun. Aiming it at Lo’ak’s head. You all starting to fight.

“Lo’ak!” Tsireya yelled

“Don't hurt him!” you tried to kick him but one of the avatars kicks you and you yelp.

“Hey!” Lo’ak yells

“What's it going to be Jake, I will not hesitate to shoot your son. Don't test me” Quarich says with venom in his tone. You didn’t doubt that he would do it.

You and Tsireya glance at each other, worried.

You start to see movement and it’s Jake moving forward.

“I got an easy shot.” someone says

“No. What wait for him to get on the boat.” Quarich whispered but not low enough for us not to catch it.

You all hiss. This wasn't happening. You couldn't lose another father.

It was quiet for a second everything seemed to be going in slow motion. You look up from the motion coming from the water and Payakan is in the air.

“Payakan!” Tuk yells

“Holy shit,” you whisper under your breath and brace yourself. The boat bounces and you all fly up in air, when you drop chaos erupts.

Guns are going off, yelling, and you hear the Metkayina advancing, battle cries ripping through the air. Lo’ak helps Payakan and kicks out the knee of a the machine that was shooting at Payakan, he slips off the boat dodging a shot from the boat in the water.

Suddenly fire erupts from one of the engines and the boat surges forward. You all scream. You’re going to crash.

“Y/n!” Tuk screams

“Hang on!” You want to hold her but can’t the stupid ties holding you back.

Neteyam watching the boat advance. He knew this was his chance to rescue you and he wasn’t going to miss it. You and his family were his number one priority.

He had just gotten you and wasn’t going to lose you. Memories of your smile came into mind. He loved you so much.

“Brace yourself!” Lo’ak yelled. You were airborne and slammed down on the deck. You winced in pain. That one really hurt.

You're all still cuffed to the railing. Frantically pulling. People start to disperse attending to their battle stations ready to fight. The fire was spreading and from the looks of you were on top on rocks. This boat was going to sink. You needed a way out

You hear noise and turn to your left and there he is. Neteyam. He's okay. You sigh in relieve. He cuts Tsireya’s and Tuk's ties.

“Get her out of here” he says to Tsireya and they run off.

“Hurry up bro!” Lo’ak yells.

“Whose the mighty warrior” Neteyam grins

He cuts your ties, and Lo’ak’s. He’s so relieved you were okay. He grabs your head and presses his forehead against yours. You grip his neck, happy to feel his skin against yours.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know where you went.” You smiled at him.

“Thank Ewya you're okay.” Tears brimming in his eyes.

“Come on! We have to get Spider!” Lo’ak his hand wraps around your arm.

“He's right.” you say and start to move.

“No! No.” Neteyam pulls you by your waist and turns you to him.

“I'm not letting you do this Y/n. I can't lose you” holding the back of your neck.

You place your hands on his chest. “Neteyam, there is no time to argue. Get Tsireya and Tuk to safety. I'll be okay. I promise” you kiss his cheek and sprint off with Lo’ak.

Neteyam was distraught. He couldn't lose you. He was torn. He yelled out in frustration. Help his sister and Tsireya. Or protect the love of his life. He walked to the end of the boat, about to jump off.

...

You and Lo’ak crawled quietly on the railing above. Careful to not make a sound. There were people running around everywhere but not paying attention. You had finally spotted Spider. You looked at Lo’ak and nodded. Now was the time to make a move.

You both leaped off and attacked the humans. Spider helped punching a guy straight in the face. Even full-grown humans were tiny compared to you guys. It was weird.

“Guys!” Spider yelled happily.

“Bro, so happy to see you” they hugged and you smiled watching. You guys were being stupid, celebrating before even escaping. But you guys were naive. Thinking you were already in the clear. You heard someone yell.

“Y/n!”

Neteyam couldn't leave you. He turned around and ran towards the area you and Lo’ak had ran off to. It took him some time to find you guys but when he had. His blood ran cold. A man was pointing his gun right at you. Without even thinking or hesitation Neteyam ran and tackled you.

Your body hit the ground and you laid there for second. You looked up, Neteyam was frantically searching your body.

“You okay?” He was breathing hard

You weren't hit. Niether was he. He helped lift you up and took cover. He pushed you against the wall and caging your body in with his.

“What were you thinking!” you yelled at him gripping his shoulders and slapping his arm. “You could've died!”

“I can't think of a better way to die than protecting you.” his voice was shakey. Realizing the danger you had just been in. The danger he was in.

“Bro we gotta go!” Spider yelled.

Lo’ak had grabbed a gun, but Neteyam pulled it out of his hands.

“Go! Now!” he ordered. He was the oldest it was his job to make sure you guys got away safe.

“No! Not without you.” you yelled over the the noise. You weren’t leaving him, you couldn’t.

“Y/n, please! I promise. I’ll be right behind you!”

You shook your head “no.” You stood your ground

“Baby please. Please” he begged.

You touched his face and jumped in the water with Lo’ak and Spider. You swam, checking behind you until you saw Neteyam hit the water. But something wasn't right.

Then you saw it, the blood and him holding his the top of his chest. You swam to him holding him up. Not Neteyam. Please great mother. You couldn’t lose you. You just got him, it couldn’t end like this.

“Woohoo! That was insane cuz.” Lo’ak and Spider were celebrating. Unaware of the bullet wound.

“I'm shot you, Skxwang.” Neteyam choked out.

“Help me!” You screamed, he was too heavy for you to carry on your own. But you would drown if it meant keeping him alive.

“Oh no Neteyam!” Tsireya had arrived on her ilu.

You pulled Neteyam to Lo’ak helping him up. You couldn't believe it. You we're in shock. You didn't even panic. Just focused on getting him somewhere safe.

Please great mother please. You begged. This wasn't happening.

“Tuk and Kiri! They are captured!”

And for the first time. Lo’ak says, “we can't go back.”

The ilu took off. You and Tsireya hung on.

Jake’s face crumbled when he saw Neteyam.

“Watch his head!” Jake yelled

He laid him down. He was losing a lot of blood. You started to cry and held his hand.

Jake checked his back.

“The bullet didn't go all the way through. That's a good sign.”

You didn't feel any relief from that. He was bleeding so much. You knew he was in pain. His face was pale.

For Neteyam, everything was in and out. But he could feel you holding his hand. He squeezed it.

“Lo’ak put pressure on the wound.” Jake ordered

Neytiri had arrived and you moved out of the way giving her space and time with her son.

“No, no, no Neteyam!” she screamed.

Tsireya hugged you. You couldn’t stop crying. He is shot because he was protecting you. He put your safety above his. You don’t know if you could forgive yourself.

You saw Jake’s ears flicker. Someone was talking on the comm. You saw him look back to the boat.

“Where are your sisters” his voice was deadly. You dropped your head. Kiri and Tuk were captured.

“They are on the ship.” Tsireya says.

Jake shook his head frustration radiating off him.

“You guys get Neteyam back to camp. Keep pressure on the wound.” Jake’s expression was unreadable. Just completed focused.

“Dad, no. I want to help” Lo’ak started to walk towards him. You took his spot and placed pressure on Neteyam’s chest.

“I’ll still here don’t worry” you spoke to him but you doubt he could hear you.

“You've done enough.” Your eyes widen when you heard Jake’s words.

Lo’ak dropped to his knees and Tsireya went to comfort him.

Jake left and you turned to Lo’ak.

“He didn't mean it. Come on we have to go.”

You stared down at Neteyam, your tears haven’t stopped and dripped on his arms.

“You're going to be okay. Please Neteyam.”

You didn’t know but he could hear you. He was scared but was comforted knowing if he was to die you would be with him.

“I need you please. Please don't leave me.” you cried.

He desperately wanted to answer, to soothe your pain and comfort you but the words wouldn’t come out.

Lo’ak and Tsireya we're still sitting there.

“Let's go!” you screamed “we don’t have time.”

“Stay with them” Lo’ak ran a hand down Tsireya’s face and dived toward the sinking ship.

“No!” She reached for him but he was too quick.

“Come on!” You weren't going to leave Neteyam. You hoped Lo’ak would be okay. Tsireya helped you maneuver Neteyam off the rocks and onto the ilu. He was heavy but adrenaline was kicking in. You were not going to lose him.

She took off, Neteyam sandwiched between you two, keeping pressure on his chest. You kissed his shoulder.

“You're going to be okay.”

...

I wanted to update early today! So here is another chapter, happy new years!. Hope you enjoyed.

Update: I'm currently working on making chapter 10 the best it can be and predicting tomorrow the 2nd to be posted!

#lo’ak #lo’ak x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #avatar 2 #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #lo’ak sully #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar #kiri sully #tsireya x lo’ak

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ghostaholics · 1 year

Note

I had a dream about your enemies with benefits ghost x reader where the reader had a cryptic pregnancy. She kinda just doubled over in pain randomly and BOOM. Baby.

HE'S A LETHAL PERFECTIONIST TO THE CORE: rigid expectations impressed upon everyone; it's what makes him a first-rate soldier – grit factor and an appetite for excellence in everything he does.

(The thing is, Ghost doesn't make mistakes.

Of course, there's a first time for everything.)

It's chaos walking in Bangladesh, guerrilla warfare against an AQ cell weaseled away in Dhaka because the shiteheads have business with the organized crime bosses here. It's a city jam-packed with civilians, innocent lives. No open-fire allowed. A place like this means guerrilla warfare. Hit-and-run tactics. God knows he's not trying to start an international incident by blowing up half the bloody capital.

Cloak-and-dagger: they're picked off one-by-one. It takes a full day. A mess to be cleaned up, and he does it exceptionally well.

Ghost doesn't get any reports outside of the mission until he relays his total kill count.

"Good work," Laswell radios in. "We need you on the first flight to Oslo."

He lets out a slow exhale while jumping into the driver's seat of the vehicle he commandeered a couple blocks over. Time to make his way to the airport, then. They need his back-up. He knows what that means. But he's not going to think about the fact that the rest of the One-Four-One are there for a completely different ops and whether things have gone south if they're calling him in. He was supposed to be their fallback plan. "Everything solid?"

"It's Mav."

His grip around the steering wheel tightens. If he starts speeding through the streets, then he doesn't notice, too tuned in to the conversation at hand. "Fill me in."

"Landed herself in the hospital."

Again? Christ. It's the second visit in six months. He was there for the first one. Damn near had to stop the bloody doctors from calling out her time of death. Fuckin' tossers.

"What's the damage?"

"Well—"

"Alive?"

"Yes," she says quickly.

"Then quit beating around the bush. The hell's wrong with her?"

"All in one piece. Just get here when you can."

Right, so no helpful answers from the Station Chief. And Ghost tries to contact the others, but gets the same fucking silence. Not Price, not Gaz, not even Soap who always answers just to take every opportunity over the comms to blather about anything and everything in real time. He's not sure why he's being kept in the dark like this, but it's definitely putting him on edge.

The only other message he receives from Laswell: Oslo University Hospital. He'd combed the website for information in between stoplights. It'll do, he supposes. Their services don't seem subpar, which at any rate sounds far better than fucking Moscow; he still gets sick thinking about it.

So he checks in, gets his visitor badge. It's a whole ordeal that takes a lot longer than he likes. They tell him what floor, what room. That's the Gyneacology and Obstetrics Wing. He triple-checks, making sure nothing gets lots in translation; doesn't sound right to him, but he'll tear up the place later if they gave him the wrong directions. He memorized the hospital layout already; it'll take him approximately three minutes utilizing the right staircase, or seven minutes if he wants to take his sweet-fucking-time with the elevators.

"Our gift shop is around the corner," they tell him in a thick Norwegian accent before he makes his exit.

Odd.

She doesn't like flowers or cards or sentimental things anyways. Calls them impractical. Would rather hoard his jackets or other belongings of his that she finds useful, so the gift shop would be a waste.

When Ghost finally gets to where he needs to be, 2 minutes and 45 seconds later (skipped every other step just to shave off time), he finds everyone sans Mav waiting outside the room. It's not a happy reunion, despite Soap's grin. Everyone's intact, nobody's dead or anything that would excuse their silence during his trip from Bangladesh. Ghost is extremely unimpressed with their lack of communication and promises that he'll deal with their sorry arses later before shoving his way through the door.

—only to be met with the sight of her sitting up in bed, a tiny newborn bundled in her arms.

... whose fucking baby is that?

And when his eyes snap up to hers, she's glaring at him with a positively seething look that could kill.

#I’d like to preface that I don’t think they’d have kids #but if they do it is a hostile affair #I promise I only use tiny font and third person for headcanons and stuff #reader's callsign is maverick #i did not check for spelling errors tbh #ewb simon lives in my head rent free #💌 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹: 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴-𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩-𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴!𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯

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credince--writes · 1 year

Text

Jitters, Chapter 1 (Remastered)

Chapter One: Security Protocol

Jitters is a PMC brought onto the support 141 operations, much to the distaste of the 141 group of PMC's.

The Remastered version of the original Jitters.

A/N:

Welcome to the rewrite guys! I actually will have my shit together this time, so that means tag lists will be happening! Lmk if you wanna be on it *as I sensually waggle my eyebrows at you*

This wasn't the first time she was sent out to a base.

This was probably the third, actually.

Laswell would send her where she was needed, so a lot of the time she found herself drifting around. She'd be stationed somewhere, finish up the needed task, and then run back to Laswell like a lap dog waiting to go fetch the ball again.

It sucked,

but so would sitting in a jail cell, so this would have to do.

The particular team she was stationed with was once again some kind of special force needing someone behind a screen that knew what they were doing, mainly to route them through a complex series of tunnels while avoiding security systems. Shutting off power when necessary.

Teaming up with some British team, she couldn't exactly remember the name she was too busy directing Sergeant Dumbass through a tunnel.

"You're going to have a series of laser security systems roughly twenty feet in front of you. Big red door next to it. Don't pass it until I give you the clear." Jitters spoke into her microphone.

"How the hell do you know it's red?" There was a gruffness to his voice, there always was whenever she spoke to the special forces guys- always a bit of a ruggedness at the edge of their voice as they’d trudge through shitty abandoned building after the next. She supposed after long enough they were in it for the thrill- when the glamorized ‘saving the world’ complex wore off. Hunting for adrenaline, pushing until the blood pounding in your ears gave the high they were searching for.

"I'm looking at you. I can see your bald spot." She responded, sighing after the mic cut off and leaning back in her chair.

It was as if they’d never really believe her- as she watched overhead. Either from their trackers or through the cameras scattered throughout a building.

The man she was observing through the screen turned around to face the camera and flipped it off before following his directed path.

"Alright... Hang tight for a moment please." She says, tapping into a separate comm unit.

"Miles this is Jitters, what is the status?"

"Dealing with some issues." His voice calmly- too calmly replied. The kind of shutoff you layer over when something is going wrong and before everything goes to shit.

"What kind of issues?" She cranes her neck over, glancing at the wall that separated the two of them. Her eyes narrowed on the concrete as if she were ready to melt through it-

But it was always like this, and even though she was confident that it would be resolved, that everything would be ok in the end. The tremor in her hands always found itself present, the jittering of her fingers on the keyboard as the anxiety and adrenaline started flowing.

She could never understand why people would seek it- the feeling of adrenaline in their veins.

"They're being resolved don't worry about it." His clipped voice spoke again.

"Miles I have three minutes before I lose stability on my end. Whatever issues you're running into need to be resolved fast."

There was silence on the other end.

It always died into silence.

…

That wasn't the last time Miles had become a major threat to the welfare of a mission, that and pain in her ass. It wasn't that he was totally incompetent- just enough that he was constantly putting teams in danger. A combination of spite and pride. Something she was familiar with, as much as she’d stuff it deep down and ignore it.

Constantly putting people in danger, either because he was still too bull-headed to accept help when she was trying to give it or was trying to prove himself in some respect.

That was until the current team they were assisting left, leaving the two of them with the base squad while another task force was brought in.

It was always some kind of task force- special operations unit, reacted names, and masked faces.

She had heard in rumors around the base that this Task Force- 141 is what it was called was something different. She was never given any real background on the teams, or redacted information but enough to get by to understand the premise of the operations. They were put on the real dirty jobs. The things that needed to be kept quiet.

Things she always ended up in her lap.

She was disposable- not that Laswell would ever explicitly say it.

She’d never be a liability because she no longer had the same ‘free will’ another had.

There was no going home,

Only the next mission.

The next dirty job.

She realized this when she was put into a separate briefing room from the rest of the squad she was stationed with. She was going to know more sensitive information, her and Miles, that is.

It was a pretty simple mission, but from what she understood very bloody on one end. It was infiltrating an enemy base, force, or stealth.

Whatever was necessary.

The day 141 arrived she was sitting on a crate fidgeting with one of the radios a private had brought up to her needing to be fixed. The pleading looks on his face to keep it quiet before his Sergeant found out and ripped him a new one. She didn't know what was up with them, but they seemed absolutely prone to breaking things in the most moronic ways. Made sense though, she saw a group of them dragging a fellow private around the warehouse floor as a mop.

The sound of a helicopter landing could be heard in closer proximity than normal, and the rolling doors opened to reveal the awaiting squad.

One thing Jitters always found amusing was the strange choices of hair, facial hair, or not that the men in the military would choose. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Miles approach, his chest puffed out in an attempt to stand taller as he approached her.

"I want Skull." He said.

She quirked a brow. "Bet he'll chew you up n' spit you out." She responded.

"Masked ones are always important." He responded. "You can take whatever team the skull guy isn't on."

"Hm." Leaning back and resting her hand against the crate trying to push down the dread that always seemed to rise up in her throat like bile when a new mission was presented. They were definitely observant, they had to be or they would be dead. Scanning and surveying the room. She watched as a grown-ass man with a mohawk stared at the two of them.

She matched his gaze, returning his intensity before he blinked and looked away. Miles had already left her side, walking to the debriefing room where the new arrivals were headed too. She sighed and stood up, following Miles to the room where the men had already gathered and seated around the table. Peeking her head in after Miles, she stepped in.

"Right on time you too." She heard Lt. Gulch say, he was heading the front of the table. Getting ready to explain new developments that had occurred in the last hour or so- papers scattered below on the table. Manila folders and ramblings in his oh-so-familiar chicken scratch tacked to the walls.

Jitters settled at the back of the table, sitting next to a man with a unibrow of a mustache on his face while Miles scurried over to sit in the general proximity of the masked giant at the table. There was a tension within the room- which was to be expected. The task forces were one and the same, usually tight-knit groups of men who would rather die than put their lives in the hands of someone they weren’t familiar with- someone they didn’t know they could trust.

Gulch began to lecture on about developments, explaining that the team would be split into two. One going from under, another storming in from the top of the building to sandwich in the center, then moving on to secure multiple other locations. Usual clearing tactics, no NVG, quick and dirty if need be, but keep it as clean as possible in respect to making cleanup easier. The navigation of the building would be difficult- security constantly changing but a recent finding of a lack of protection in their digital space provides an opportunity for them to breach.

"Which is why we have these two here today, one will be assigned to each of your teams. I'll allow you to choose as they will be a part of your respective teams for the next week." Gulch continued.

She always dreaded this part.

Introductions.

As if they really cared about who they were, and what they really did. Moreso once they understood what she was, her presence here.

Not that they’d ever question it, it seemed that all of them were connected one way or another to Laswell, and with her ‘stamp’ of approval, or ownership they wouldn’t ask many more questions.

Miles stood up, introducing his name and rank, and then sat down.

Jitters looked at him, then looked around the room not bothering to stand up. Avoiding every contact and trying to keep her voice even level. Not to stand and show the shake of her hands and the anxiety that these introductions always brought her. "They call me Jitters."

There were a few questionable glances given in response. Mustache piping up from next to her. "What about your Name & Rank?"

Gulch piped in. "Classified, and Jitters is a PMC sent in specifically for this assignment."

She watched as Mowhawk sat back in his chair and grumbled something to Skullface. Before he piped up. "Why is there a PMC on this job, do we not have techs?"

"Laswell had her sent in specifically, I'm under higher orders from General Spots, and advisement of Laswell. Which I don't plan on ignoring, is that a problem MacTavish?"

Mowhawk MacTavish sighed, and sat back. "No. Ghost and I will take Miles then."

Skullface nodded.

Apparently, his name was Ghost.

Mustache nodded, "Alright then. Jitters." He said with a little bit of hesitancy. "You, Gaz, and I will be the second team infiltrating from the top of the building once our first steps are secured."

She gave him a nod. "Is this still a pack & pull operation? Two, one, and gather?" She asked to the inhabitants of the room.

"Yes," Gulch started. "Team two will be in the field for two days while Team one remains in the field for one, returns to drop off, then stays until Team one meets back. Both teams will then follow to finish in one day- or however long it takes to fulfill the remaining objectives."

Jitters leaned back in her seat. "Are they aware of how it's going to work?" She nods her head back to the man behind her.

Gulch shrugs a little. "Was hoping you could explain, you start losing me when you're going on about satellites."

“Well-” She opened her mouth to speak.

"I can." Miles volunteers, standing up, cutting her off with the ever-present smirk on his lips.

"We are going to be equipping you all with specialized comms' routed through one of our satellites for this mission. We will be able to remotely access cameras throughout your route and give information as needed. Once you reach your target point, question and deal with the target then we will work on acquiring intel in either of these two points." He points behind him at the map. "Once the initial is finished, your teams will separate once more to finish out delegated tasks. The comm. systems are separated to further security, so all traffic will need to be routed through us."

"Why will our comms be separated?" Gaz asks.

"Well…" Miles pauses, faltering for a moment to gather his words.

Skullface scoffs.

She could see the embarrassment burn knot Miles face, hands clenching together at his sides.

"It's in case one of you is KIA, or have your communications compromised. Doesn't compromise both groups, keeps it segregated into one team." Jitters bumps in, shooting a side glance to Miles as his head snapped over to glare. "Miles also forgot to mention the lockout segments of the map where no one will be able to get any communications out. From what we know they lined these segments well enough to half any communication traffic through their walls. You'll all have to resort to more unique means of keeping the communication line open."

"Enlighten us." Ghost said, crossing his arms.

"One of each of your team is going to have to secure access to the vent system once you gain access to the fortified rooms. Your partner will be able to hear you through the vent, and the partner inside the vent will be able to further communicate."

"I won't fit in a vent," MacTavish says matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure you'll manage." Gaz replied.

The door opened, and one of the other Luitenants’ heads popped in "Jitters, you're needed immediately." There was that tone of urgency- not one of dire the world is going to end.

No, that was usually the pre-mission ass-chewing.

Gulch shot a glare. "What is it?"

"Laswell is on the line right now." They responded.

"God Damn it." Jitters groaned. Standing up and turning "Yea, Yea, I'll be there in a second. Miles finish where I left off and don't forget half."

He glared in response.

...

Had the call been important? Not really. It was more as if her mother had called to give her a preliminary chewing out before she was sent off to summer camp. Finishing off the call with "Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Walking out of the private room she was pulled into the take the call with Laswell, mind running through the different scenarios of things going wrong and how to fix them all before they actually happened. Taking a stride down the hallway as something bumped into her shoulder. Looking over she was met at an equal height with Miles.

"Don't. Ever." He pushed her shoulder against the wall and leaned up to her, "Pull what shit again in a meeting again." She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, the venom that dripped out of his words, and the anger that flashed in his eyes when he spoke. She almost wanted to laugh- him making a fool of himself in the briefing and acting big and strong and smart. Only for it to blow back up in his face.

Did she need to call him out in the meeting in the way she did?

No.

Did she do it anyways?

Of course.

"Kids. What the fuck are you doing?" They heard Gulch's voice.

"Nothing Luitenant." Miles answers quickly, before leaving.

"Captain Price and I would like a word," Gulch says nodding his head over to a door, before leading her and Price into the same meeting room as before.

"I need to know that you'll have our backs." Price says, tilting his head down to match her gaze. "We've had a... Bad track record with PMCs." There was a graveness to his tone- one that didn’t feel fabricated in the way the Captains and Luitenants and Seargants would always create to seem more serious. To try and scare someone into submission. But it felt real- a layer of pain beneath the surface of the simple words ‘bad track record’.

There was a history behind them, and it put her on edge.

It was already a losing battle gaining their trust for a short mission, but to already be put so far behind and to have this layered on top of it would spell disaster for the operation as a whole. It made dread crawl up her throat, fingers digging small crescents into her palms before sucking in a breath and leaving her tone out to portray confidence.

She shrugs. "I don't think Laswell would've sent me here if I wasn't going to cover you. I was briefed on the mission before you came here, when it was still supposed to be in the Nordics."

"How do you know Laswell?" Price asks.

Jitters looks to Gulch, nearly desperate to explain why, who shrugs in response.

Asshole.

She couldn’t- wouldn’t lay it all out on the table. It would be stupid to, and he had no reason to know, no right. It wasn’t his place, Captain or not. Even so, she could feel the cocky energy radiating off of Miles hoping to watch her stutter, to watch her fail and prove she wouldn’t be reliable for the mission.

She was sure he wanted her pulled from it.

Fake it til you make it, isn’t that what they say?

"I'm who Laswell sends out when things need to be done right… if that makes any sense." Jitters replies simply. Maybe it was a mild middle finger to Miles, who always seemed to find a hiccup and magnify it until it nearly ruined an op- but it was who she was.

She was sent to these jobs.

She read the redacted paperwork.

And she worked in the background, trudging behind a soldier to download files in the field or to hide behind a screen and direct.

Price nods. "Perfect. See you in the morning."

"Yea..." She says, watching everyone file out, leaving her in the empty room.

Waking up bright and early- it couldn't even be called that. It was nighttime. Dark. And fucking cold. That's what it was. Waking up dark and cold.

Jitters grumbled to herself, pulling on her clothes for the day and picking up two gadgets off of her work table, and making her way outside.

"Good to see you're finally up." She heard Miles say from the side of her as she walked into the warehouse where the men were suiting up.

She walked up to Gaz and Price who were prepping their weapons and gear. "Come here please." She says, rubbing her eyes.

"What's up?" Gaz asks.

Jitters reaches into her pocket and pulls out two small button-like forms. "These are vibrators- God." She groans, face heating up at the statement and realizing once the words left her mouth what a shitty idea naming them was. "Not like that though, here." She quickly adds, seeing the twitch upward in the two men’s lips. She reaches out and grabs Gaz's hand, pulling him a little closer to her. Grabbing his glove and sliding it into the center of his wrist.

"If you're in a situation that you can't verbally respond, you buzz me. I'll be asking yes and no questions. Two for no and three for yes." She explains, handing the other to Price before looking at her watch. "Example." She taps on her wrist twice, and the two men look down at the feeling of the little machine buzzing on the top of their wrists.

"I'll be asking you something along the lines of checkpoint reached. I know this is going to be a stealth operation so minimizing any potential faults in your navigation is at the height of my priority."

"Thanks, neva' had something like this before." Gaz says.

Price nods, "We will establish a connection when we reach point A."

Jitters nodded, "Copy that."

Once she had finished with Price & Gaz, she’d hung back for a moment to watch Miles sputter and suck up to the two other men. It was almost comedic- watching him try and flex his theoretical muscles of technical operations as if they really cared. "You got some brown on your nose." She comments to him.

"Fuck you."

....

After the connections were established, the teams had moved out. From what she gathered Miles was having to deal with all of the feedback from water sloshing in the comms.

Have fun with that, you prick.

Advancements on her end were made quickly and methodically, leading the team through their routes with limited enemy casualties to maintain the stealth the mission required.

Soon enough the garble could be heard over the comms.

"Entering blackout area, be advised. Notify when placement is established overhead."

She waited.

And waited.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before she felt three buzzes on her wrist.

"Establish a connection, notify when established."

Soon enough, three buzzes were felt again on her arm.

"Maintain your location until advised. Waiting for the crash."

One,

Two,

Three.

Yes.

She stood up, looking over to Miles who was frantically typing. Why was he typing? Had they already trigged a security protocol in the building? How hard was it for him not to fuck something up- for once, one time, she begged in her own mind. Just once, for everything to go smoothly.

Maybe when hell froze over.

"Miles I need an ETA."

"Dealing with complications." He mutters out.

She almost wanted to sneer back ‘all you have is complications’, but she held it back. For now.

"Miles I have limited time, sort your shit out, and do it quick."

"Location compromised," Miles yelled out, throwing his back against his chair and tossing his hands into his hair, and groaning, quickly slouching back forward to continue back on working on whatever he was frantically typing for.

"Fuck." Jitters whisper yelled. Rushing back to her desk she established a connection with Price and Gaz. "Changing plans, begin upload procedures now. You'll be seeing friends in less than five."

One,

Two,

Three.

Leaving her desk, but keeping the earpiece for her team in her ear she marched over to Miles. "Tell me what's happening."

"Triggered security protocol Alpha-3."

Her gaze hardened on him. "You're shitting me."

"No!" He whisper yelled back, trying to keep his voice quiet, even though it wasn’t calm by any means. “Why would I be shitting about that?”

"We need our eyes here Miles." She could hear the voice of Mactavish through his earpiece.

"How could you of fucked it that bad?" She asked, hand reaching up and gripping onto his chair, leaning over to take a look at his screen.

"Shut up!" Miles snapped back at her.

That horrible feeling crawled up her spine, the feeling of it like the legs of a spider creeping up to her neck. If neither of them did anything, if Miles didn’t do anything and quickly the entire operation would be a bust and not only would the current operatives in the building be in danger, but more importantly- at least to Jitters- the mission would be a failure.

And Laswell meant what she said on the call.

"Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

Her arm reached out, grabbing Miles shoulder and pushing on it, trying to get him out of the seat while she pushed forward trying to slot her hips into the chair. "Move."

"What?" He asked, eyebrows raising as if he didn’t hear her the first time, as if her words weren't clear enough. His body pushed forward and he leaned back against it, fighting the of her hand against his shoulder by simply leaning into it and ignoring it.

"You heard me. Move." She urged again.

"Miles!" MacTavish emphasizes in his comm.

"Fuckin', move." Jitters removed her hand, sidestepping behind the chair and pushing his back forward while pulling his chair out simultaneously, his body lurhcing forward then leaning back to no longer be met with the chair, flat backing onto the floor as she quickly slid into the seat. Arms stretched out and tapping a few letters on the keyboard.

"What the fuck is going on over there." Ghost hisses through the comm.

"There is a room 200 feet to your left. It will be next to the main line in the underground system. Get there now." Jitters orders.

"What?" Mactavish asks.

"Move your ass. Now!" She all but yells into the microphone.

"Jitters how copy?" She can hear Gaz ask.

"Hold." She says, merging the two communications teams together.

"Sounded like you were fighting back there." Gaz comments.

"I was. connection established- both ends. Can you hear us?" She asks.

"Affirmative." The four men all but say in unison.

"Security protocol Alpha-3 has been activated, meaning I am going to need some coordination on both sides. Gaz I need you to slide back to where you were a bit ago- the panel with the blue lights."

"Copy."

"Price you'll need to take that cord you've got plugged into the system and remove it, ignore the lost progress it doesn't matter what matters is making sure this isn't fucked."

"Copy."

"Ghost I need you to cover while Mac' opens up the panel that should be next to the outgoing pipe. That is a centralized break. One of them should be labeled with a XX83. When I say, flip it and get ready for it to go dark. You'll need to use your night vision to move through the rest of your trajectory. We are trying to make this look like a simple malfunction in the security system. A glitch."

"In the location" Gaz affirms.

"Gaz remember those two wires I just had you cut?"

"Yes."

"I need you to cut the third to the right- white with writing on it. And You're gonna need to stick the two hot ends together. it's gonna make a light show so don't stick your head in there. Notify when complete."

She waited a few moments, nearly feeling the cold sweat collecting on her neck. The feeling of adrenaline, of anxiety creeping up and making her ears feel hot. Feeling her pulse in her fingers as her hands moved furiously to input information as needed to make sure that the mission was not compromised.

"We have inbound security patrol." Ghost replies.

"Copy. Standby." She replies.

"It's complete," Gaz Responds, a slight crackling in the background of his comms. "You were right, made a hell of a show."

"Flip it now MacTavish."

"Copy."

"Lights will be down for roughly 45 seconds. You need to move now you too. Price, plug in now."

"Copy."

"Established."

"Alright, the security system is resetting. Clear, for now, finish that download and get the fuck out of there."

She leans back in her seat, glancing over to meet the glare of Miles. Disconnecting the Coms from each other she shot him a glance. "You want your job back? Or are you gonna fuck it up again?" She sneers.

"Get out of my chair." He grits out, jaw tense as he stands.

She pulls his earpiece from her head, tossing it at him and standing. No so gently tossing his chair to the side and listening to it clatter on the ground as she makes her way back to her chair.

"Fine by me, this chair smells like shit anyways."

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thejediscrolls · 7 months

Text

You Drew Stars

Hunter x Jedi reader

Mess around and find out.

Angst

Pt 10 to You Drew Stars

“We’re almost there.” Tech’s voice rang out through the otherwise silent cockpit as he exited hyperspace.

Hunter glanced up from sharpening his knife and took in the view of the large planet. The world seemed flush with life as mountains rose and trees filled the land. You wouldn’t think that this world would have a secret lab conducting unlawful experiments with kidnapped clone troopers… Clearly the perfect choice for the empire to set up such a dangerous operation.

“We will have approximately three minutes when I land to get inside without being detected by security.” Tech stated once again.

“Got it.” Hunter put the storm trooper helmet on that Rex obtained for them.

He already didn’t like the way the suit fit him or how it was a lot less mobile then the uniform he used to wear when he was fighting for the republic… How times have changed.

“Wrecker, make sure you get the ship somewhere inconspicuous and wait for our signal… And it all else fails… Do what you do best.” Tech stated.

He then motioned for Wrecker to take the controls as soon as he landed the ship near one of the secret entrances to the mountain.

“Let’s go.” Hunter stated.

Echo and Tech followed behind him, each wearing an identical storm trooper outfit to Hunter’s. They remained quiet and vigilant as they entered the mountain and made their way up one of the ventilation shafts.

When Echo peaked his head out and saw that the coast was clear, they exited the vent and began pretending as if they belonged there.

The three stayed clear of any suspicious personnel that could blow their cover as they made their way to the level that they were keeping clone troopers.

“Up ahead and to the right.” Tech voice spoke through their personal comms.

They entered the room and was met by rows of multiple clone troopers being held against their will.

“He should be in one of these cells.” Echo said as they began their search.

Each cell was met by another familiar face, but none with the signature crosshair tattoo and permanent scowl.

…

“Can I come with you? Please? I can’t just sit here waiting a moment longer. I’ll go crazy.” Omega pleaded with Phee as she was boarding her ship.

“I know, but your brothers insisted that you stay here and I didn’t expect an urgent call from Sid. It should only take half a day tops and I’ll be back for dinner alright?” Phee tried to say.

“See! You said it yourself. Only half a day tops which means I should be able to go with you!” Omega begged and the look in her big eyes that quickly made Phee fold.

With a sigh, Phee motioned for the young girl to follow her, “Alright, but you have to listen to everything I say. Promise?”

Omega nodded eagerly as she strapped herself in the copilots seat, “Promise.”

“And I expect to get one of those smoothies that you and Wrecker have been making.” Phee said with a small grin.

Omega crossed her heart, “As soon as we get back I promise to make you one.”

…

“Do you think he might be on another level? Did we miss something?” Hunter asked as he looked into another cell.

Each cell they past left an empty feeling in each of their hearts. One, that their clone brethren were locked up and two, because their brother was nowhere to be found. The image of what has become of their brothers in arms have left a permanent scar in their minds.

Tech shook his head, “Negative. All clones have been stationed here in this cell block.”

“But he’s not just any type of clone.” Hunter shook his head, “They could have transferred him somewhere else.”

“I highly doubt that. He has to be here. There is no other place where he could be.” Tech urged as they moved forward.

“I’m going to check the layout and see if there’s a turn up ahead.” Tech looked at his data pad following behind Echo and Hunter.

“Let’s not give up just yet. We’ll keep searching until we find him.” Echo said with certainty laced in his voice.

…

“What did Sid say that she needs to talk about anyways?” Omega wondered as she swung her legs.

“Don’t know.” Phee shrugged, keeping her eyes on the stars while she flew her ship, “She just said that it was important. Maybe if we’re lucky enough, it’ll be another treasure hunt.”

“Oo!” Omega’s eyes lit up, “We haven’t gone in one of those in a while! That would be fun and I’m sure my mo-” Omega suddenly stopped swinging her feet as her happy expression fell realizing she caught herself forgetting again.

“I lost my mom when I was young too.” Phee mentioned when the silence grew heavy, “She was an amazing women. The best treasure hunter in the entire galaxy and one day… Something went wrong and I never saw her again.” Phee spoke gently, “It’s the memories that you have that counts so don’t be sad. Be proud.”

Omega nodded, “I just… I feel that she’s still here with us somehow.”

“I feel like that about my mom too.” Phee said.

Omega fell back into her seat, leaning her head against the headrest, “She would have liked a treasure hunt.”

Phee smiled softly, “I’m sure she would have.”

…

They were cutting it close as their pace quickened with each turn. They knew that it was only a matter of time before storm troopers will be poking their heads around the corner and figuring out they weren’t actually one of them.

This whole mission was dangerous and yet none of them would turn back. Not if it meant saving their brother.

“There!” Echo quickly pointed towards one of the last few cells.

Hunter let out a breath of relief as the three of them ran up to the cell.

There they found Crosshair, barely moving on the ground with bruises swelling over his skin. It looked like he had been through hell…

What happened to him? Hunter thought as Tech quickly got to work on disarming the cell shield.

“None of the others look as bad as he does.” Echo mentioned what Hunter was just thinking, “They wouldn’t have done this to just any clone… There must have been a reason…”

Hunter and Tech both nodded in agreement.

“Maybe because of Omega?” Hunter questioned.

“That is highly plausible. The cell should be open… Now.” Tech stated and suddenly the shield vanished.

Hunter and Tech quickly made their way to help their brother up as Echo stood guard.

“Crosshair.” Tech gently shook his brothers arm and doing a quick scan to check his vitals.

To that touch, Crosshair reached up and held his brother’s arm in his own death grip.

“Don’t touch her.” Crosshair growled before he fell unconscious again.

“Her?” Tech furrowed his brows underneath the helmet, “Crosshair, who are you talking about?”

“What does he mean by her?” Echo asked as he glanced towards the three in the cell.

“I don’t know, but we have to go. We’ll ask him later.” Hunter shook his head before helping Tech lift their brother in their arms.

“Echo, we need to get to a database. Rex requested we obtain all information about Project Light.” Hunter ordered and as quickly as he was trained to do, Echo tracked down where they needed to be.

“You need… Go…” Crosshair was once again fading in and out of consciousness as he muttered each word, “In… Trouble…”

“We’ll go soon, brother.” Hunter tried to console his brother as they entered a room filled with computer systems, “Just hold on a bit longer.”

Echo quickly inserted himself into the data base and began searching for the proper file that he needed.

Suddenly they were sealed shut inside the room as red lights and a loud alarm started blaring throughout the base.

“I think they suspect we are here.” Tech stated as a matter of fact.

Echo, Tech, and Hunter took off their helmets.

Hunter sighed, “Didn’t notice.”

Hunter looked to Echo with urgency, “Echo where are we at with those files?”

“Almost there.” Echo muttered without looking away from the screen, “You just need to buy me some time.”

…

“Come on. Up out of your seat little copilot.” Phee patted Omega’s shoulder as soon as she landed the ship.

The two were off the ramp and heading towards Sid’s bar without a worry in their mind, save for the boys of course. They both only wished that they would come back safe and sound with Crosshair.

“Oddly quiet tonight.” Phee remarked as she noticed the streets were pretty bare, unlike what she was used to seeing.

“I’m going to head to Sol and grab some cakes for my brothers if that’s okay?” Omega asked.

Phee nodded her head, not seeing the harm in it, “Sure thing. Grab me a snack while your at it too. Something fruity.” Phee smiled as she pulled out some credits and handed them to the girl.

Omega nodded her head and took off, leaving Phee to continue the rest of the way to Sid’s.

“Hey Sid!” Phee called out the the older woman as soon as she stepped into the bar.

It only occurred to her then that the place was empty also and a unwanted feeling began to make its way through her chest, sending pulses to her brain that told her to run.

“I’m sorry, but I need to know where the kid is Phee.” Sid appeared from her office, followed by two storm troopers, a short man in a coat and…

“You…” Phee’s eyes widened at the sight in front of her.

The cloaked woman’s body was covered by a black coat with a hood to conceal her face.

Phee held her breath as she waited for the mysterious form to reveal themselves. Slowly, the figure pulled the hood down with a metal arm to reveal a face that confirmed Phee’s gut feeling.

Phee breathed out in disbelief and happiness, “You’re alive.”

It was the man in the coat that spoke next.

“My name is Dr. Hemlock. Sid here told us all about you and how much you love treasure.” He threw a bag onto a nearby bar table and the remnants inside revealed jewels that she has never even seen before, “I know you are a smart woman and you don’t want to be caught up in this mess so be a dear and tell us where Omega is.”

Phee glanced at the bag intently. She slowly looked at the Jedi who had a glazed look over her eyes as if she wasn’t even present.

“What did you do to her?” Phee glared at the doctor.

“Don’t mind your friend, she wouldn’t even remember you even if you tried to tell her.” Hemlock waved his arm and without a second thought, the General ignited her lightsaber.

“Now. I am pretty sure I have made us a fair trade here.” Hemlock said and this time his voice was far from kind, “Tell me where the girl is.”

…

Hunter could hear footsteps quickly approaching them. He placed the rest of Crosshair’s weight to Tech before he smashed the key code to enter the room.

“That should buy us some time, but not a lot.” Hunter stated, but with a less than confident look as the banging continued outside of the door.

“Hunter…” Echo’s voice was oddly quiet as he stared at the screen in front of him.

“What?” Hunter turned to look in Echo’s direction.

He didn’t like the way that Echo looked up as if he had just seen a ghost.

“What is it?” Hunter repeated, his voice snipped as he waited for Echo to give him an answer.

“It’s.. It’s the general…” Echo took a pause to collect himself, “She’s still alive.”

…

Omega felt herself slow her run as she reached the Sol cafe. The lights had been shattered inside, leaving the cafe as dark as the street outside.

“Omega?” A familiar voice called out to her.

She hasn’t heard it in quite a while, but the waiter poked his head out from behind a booth with wide blue eyes, “What are you doing here?” Indul asked.

Omega rushed to him, wincing as she saw the deep gash that scarred his right leg.

“Are you alright? What happened to you?” She asked as she looked around at the destroyed restaurant.

“I don’t know who they are… There was one one… Black robe, they wore a hood and wielded a lightsaber. They killed Jun.” He pointed shakily to the kitchen.

He looked up panicked and scared, “They came in here looking for you Omega… You need to run. Get away as far from here as you can.” He struggled to talk through the steering pain, but the urgency was president in his voice.

Her hands hovered over his wound, not sure of what to do, “I can find Phee and she can help you.” Omega said as she stood.

“I don’t need any help.” Indul shook his head with a sigh, “But you can’t go out there by yourself.” Indul struggled to stand, “I’ll go with you.”

Omega immediately shook her head and gently sat him back down, “I’ll be fine, you need to stay still.”

“Mary is grabbing some medical supplies for my leg.” Indul assured as he placed his hand on top of hers, “Go… And may the force be with you.”

…

“Tick tok.” Dr. Hemlock spoke in a bored tone as he glanced at his watch.

“I won’t.” Phee shook her head as she took a step back and crossed her arms, “I don’t know how many pirates you’ve come across, but I ain’t one of them.”

Hemlock sighed, “I really hoped that you would have been more easily suaded like your dear friend Sid here, but I suppose it can never be that easy twice, can it?” Hemlock motioned to his new toy, “Kill her and find the girl.”

The Jedi stepped forward, a murderous look in her gaze as she lifted her lightsaber.

Phee raised her hands up, “You don’t have to do this. Please.” She said as she took a few steps back, the jedi matching with a step of her own.

Suddenly the doors to the cantina swung open and two cans of smoke rolled through the doors.

“Hurry!” Omega shouted to Phee who took no time in following the young girl out the door.

The two bolted down the street as they headed straight for their ship.

“How did they find us?” Omega asked.

“Sid sold you out kid!” Phee said as they ran.

“What? No. That can’t be!” Omega yelled shocked.

“We’ll talk about it later, this way!” Phee yelled as they took a right.

They were almost to their ship when suddenly large rubble and stone broke from a building, sealing their path shut. As they turned they could see the glowing purple from a lightsaber.

“Who is that?” Omega asked as she squinted at the cloaked figure.

“It’s…” Before Phee could answer, Omega was falling to the ground in a heavy sleep.

As Phee looked up in shock, she watched her old friend wave her hand and in a second she was out like a light.

…

“What do you mean?” Hunter’s voice was cold.

He could quiet literally hear his heart beat loudly in his eardrums blocking out the banging on the locked door as he stared at the screen that showed the very being he couldn’t live without.

He could see her face, void of any emotion as she stared at whoever had taken the photo. Her scanner showed active on the screen with the word successful project written in the top right corner of her file. His mind was racing with confusion as he tried to piece together what could have happened to her during these last few months…

The pain she must have endured. That thought alone sent a knife through his heart.

“She must have been alive when… They took her.” Echo muttered as he glanced at his brother’s reaction, “She must be who Crosshair was trying to protect…”

“Alive?” Tech echoed the word as Crosshair leaned into his side. He kept a tight grip on his brother to keep him balanced, but that didn’t stop the lump that formed in his throat, “She was alive and I left her.”

Hunter’s fury laced in his bones as he ripped the frame piece from piece. His voice roared through the sealed room as he ripped through everything he could find. Echo, Tech and Crosshair stood against one of the walls as they watched Hunter mentally loose himself. They listened to the sound of the shields disappearing in the next room, letting them know that Hunter had just inadvertently released the clones being held hostage.

“We left her.” Hunter’s voice was barely a whisper.

He headed straight to the sealed door that now opened up to the stormtroopers on the other side. Each swift movement, each yell gave way to a storm trooper falling to the ground until Hunter stood above them remaining victorious and blinded by rage.

His brothers slowed stepped to the entrance of the room, watching their brother with concern.

Hunter stood there, unmoving as each clone warily stepped out of their cells.

“Burn this place to the ground.” Venom laced his voice and fire filled his eyes as the sirens blared and the battle cries of his brethren rang out through the halls.

“We’re bringing her home.” Was Hunter’s final words as he grabbed his blaster and led his brother’s back to the Marauder.

Just hold out for me a little longer mesh’la, I’m coming for you.

Taglist

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