#intel control panel

[houseofaegon]

Don't Let Go ✩ Bob Reynolds

Pairings: Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolt!Reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. rough sex, emotional sex, public sex, mental health themes (trauma, guilt, PTSD), depictions of breakdowns, emotional, angst, praise kink, possessiveness, aftermath of violence, unprotected p in v, guilt, self-loathing, established trauma bond.

Summary: The mission was supposed to be clean. Routine. But nothing is simple when the Sentry is involved, when Bob loses control, and the Void takes over. And when he does, you're the only one who can pull him back.

Word Count: 4658

Author's Note: don't even ask me if I'm okay cause the answer is no. I'm destroyed. completely destroyed and emotionally wrecked. i am ruined. bob reynolds ruins me. if you finished this and also felt like your heart's been pulled out and kissed back to life, welcome to the club. my inbox is open if you want to send me your therapy bill—just know I’m probably gonna have to come with you cause what the fuck. i love you bobby you're everything to me!!! if you want to be added to my taglist just comment below!! <333 feel free to cry with me in the comments and scream in the reblogs. i need to go outside and touch some grass, reconnect with nature and breathe cause my heart is destroyed after this one. i literally can't stop writing for bob what the hell!! bucky is jealous cause bob's taking up space in my mind that used to belong to bucky. lewis pullman you babygirlllllllllllll

masterlist.

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The mission was supposed to be simple. In and out. Detain the targets, secure the entire facility, and minimize civilian casualties. Standard Thunderbolts cleanup. You'd done this dance before—storm in, assert dominance, extract data and bodies. Easy.

But you knew the moment Bucky said, "Bob's on this one," everything in your chest went cold.

The tower was quiet, too quiet, until it wasn't. Until the entire place was filled with hurried footsteps, shouts bouncing off the walls, and orders being thrown like grenades, gear bags being slammed open, weapons loaded with sharp clicks, and comms lighting up with rapid-fire intel. The whole floor shifted into emergency mode.

You'd barely finished gearing up when Yelena grabbed your arm and dragged you toward the elevator, her expression tight, mouth set in that grim, no-bullshit line that only ever meant bad news.

"Valentina wants all of us on-site," she muttered, pressing the call button with enough force to crack the panel. "Right now. Facility breach. Something about biotech. Hostages."

"Since when do we scramble before briefing?" you asked, yanking the zipper of your new tactical suit closed, holster strap still half-loose dangling on your hip. "Do we even have a plan?"

Yelena didn't answer. She didn't have to.

When the elevator doors opened, Bucky was already inside, pacing back and forth. His jaw clenched, comms piece buzzing with chatter. He looked up when he saw you—but he didn’t smile. Didn’t nod.

Jeez, so much for a good morning.

"Let me guess," you said, stepping into the elevator next to him. "Valentina's stunt?"

"She pulled Bob in last minute," Bucky said, his voice laced with frustration. "Didn't even care to fucking tell me. I found out when I saw his name on the team feed. Walker's there with him, Ava too."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you froze. "She put him first? With Walker?"

“She wants to see if he's still 'field-capable.'" Bucky's voice dripped sarcasm. "Her exact words. She thinks this is some kind of game. Like we're testing out a new drone, not a man who nearly blacked out half of a city six months ago."

“Is she out of her fucking mind?” you hissed. “Bob’s not—he’s not ready. He shouldn't be anywhere near this.”

“No shit,” Yelena muttered from the other side, crossing her arms. “And we’re the ones who’ll have to clean up if he loses it again.”

You exhaled slowly, trying to damp down the rolling anger in your chest. Not at Bob—of course not, this wasn't his fault. You were mad at Valentina and her fucking need to push him to the edge. "Great," you muttered, rubbing your face with a hand. "Let's all just hold hands and pray he doesn't crack."

The VTOL sliced through the clouds like a blade, engines humming low and tense. Rain battered the sides in sharp bursts.

You sat strapped between Yelena and Alexei, your harness tight across your chest, heart beating even tighter beneath it. Across from you, Bucky was locked in, jaw clenched, staring out the side window with a look that could shatter the glass any moment. When he finally looked away from the window, he fixed his gaze directly on you.

"I need you to be ready," he said, voice low and rasped. "In case Void—" He paused, breathing raggedly. "In case Bob snaps."

You blinked. "Bucky—"

"If it happens," he cut you off, "if he breaks... don't wait for an order. Do not hesitate. You hit him with everything you've got."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Because you hesitated.

Not because you didn't understand the danger. Not because you didn't know what Bob was capable of when the Void took hold. You'd seen it. Firsthand. The devastation. The aftermath. The look in his eyes—those dark, endless eyes—when he realized what he’d done.

But you'd also seen something else. You'd also seen the other side of him. The guilt

You'd been there the last time. When the Void clawed its way up his throat like poison, he dropped to his knees, shaking, burning with power, guilt, and fear. You were the only one who could get through to him. The only one who could touch him without him recoiling like he might shatter.

You'd whispered his name and watched his fist unclench slowly. You'd put your hand on his chest and feel his heartbeat slow. You'd seen how the black storm slowly evaporated, leaving a broken man sobbing against your chest.

That night was the worst for Bob.

You remember it vividly—his body trembling against yours, eyes wide and hollow after the Void had finally disappeared. He hadn't said a word. Just sank to the ground, hands fisting in his hair, like he was trying to hold his skull together.

You’d dropped down beside him, pulled him close, felt the heat radiating off his skin like a fever breaking. And when he finally clung to you—arms wrapped around your waist, face buried in your shoulder—it wasn’t just desperation. It was terror. Like if he let go, he’d fall into some pit that never ended.

He cried.

God, he cried so hard.

And you didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to soothe it away. You just held him. Let him shake. Let him break.

That night, you stayed with him.

He pulled you into bed like he didn’t even realize he was doing it—just moved toward your body like it was instinct, like your presence was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. His fingers curled in your shirt, his face buried in your chest, breath hiccuping between exhausted sobs.

You thought he’d fall asleep eventually.

He didn’t. Not right away.

He kept whispering, voice barely audible: “Don’t leave. Please. Just… don’t leave.”

And how could you?

You didn’t.

So you stayed.

And when he finally passed out—curled around you like a second skin, little soft snores slipping past parted lips—you just watched him. His face was peaceful for once. Almost boyish. His lashes fluttered when he dreamed, but he didn’t cry out. Not with you there.

You tried to slip out once.

Just to stretch. To breathe. But the second your body shifted away, his arms tightened like a vice, dragging you back in, even in his sleep. Like his subconscious couldn’t bear the thought of you disappearing.

From that night on, it became… a thing.

Every time he had a nightmare. Every time the Void started to whisper again. Every time he needed quiet but didn’t know how to ask for it—he came to you.

He never knocked loud. Just a soft tap on your door, barely audible. You’d open it to find him standing there, shoulders hunched, hair messy, eyes big and guilty and so shy. Like he hated himself for needing you but couldn’t help it.

“Can I…?” he’d start to ask, voice barely above a whisper.

And you’d always let him in.

Always.

God, you loved it. Loved being the one person he came to. The one place he felt safe. The way he melted into you the second the door shut. The way he’d sleep tangled in your arms, legs hooked with yours like he needed as many points of contact as possible to stay grounded.

You never told anyone.

You never wanted to ruin it.

It was quiet. Sacred. Yours.

And now, strapped into this VTOL, Bucky’s words still echoing in your ears—“Don’t hesitate. Hit him with everything you’ve got”—all you could think about was how peaceful he looked in your bed. How tightly he held you. How terrified he was of being alone.

Because what if you could reach him again?

What if hitting him wasn’t the answer? What if all he needed was someone to see him before he disappeared completely?

Bucky must’ve seen the flicker in your expression, because his voice dropped lower.

“I know you’re close to him. I know he listens to you more than anyone else. But if that stops—if he doesn’t hear you this time... don’t let him take you down with him.”

He’ll hear me, you thought, jaw clenched.

He has to.

Yelena’s hand reached over, slow and steady, her fingers brushing against yours before curling around them. Her grip was warm, firm—anchoring. You turned slightly, meeting her eyes.

She gave you a small, quiet smile. The kind that didn’t promise everything would be okay, just that you wouldn’t be alone when it wasn’t.

“It’ll be alright,” she whispered. "We'll be right behind you."

You squeezed her hand back, once.

"Visuals confirm contact inside the facility," the pilot’s voice crackled through the comms. "We’ve got movement near the lab sector. Hostiles engaged. Sentry’s already on-site."

You looked up sharply. "Already?"

He wasn’t supposed to engage alone.

Bucky swore under his breath, ripping the earpiece out and jamming it back in. "Why the fuck didn’t you wait for us—"

Ava spoke through the comms, her voice shivering. “He didn’t wait. I told him to stand down, and he just… went in.”

Then the ground came into view through the viewport—flames licking up from the roof of the biotech facility, smoke pluming into the sky, the perimeter in total disarray.

"Doors open in twenty seconds," the pilot called.

You shivered. You could feel it. That humming tension in your bones, the kind that only came right before everything went to hell.

He's already slipping.

"Get ready," Bucky barked, snapping his rifle into place as he stood. "Move fast, eyes sharp. We don't know how bad it is yet."

Yelena stood up, nodding once, checking her gear. You followed closely behind.

“Hostiles are still active inside,” came another voice—Walker’s, sharp and panicked over comms. “But it’s—fuck, it’s a massacre down here. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing. I can't see him. He’s not fucking responding.”

Your heart clenched.

“Bob,” you whispered, barely audible.

Then: a boom.

A section of the lower level erupted in a plume of golden-white light, fire tearing up through the concrete as the building shook from the force of it. A pulse of energy rippled outward, flattening a chunk of the south wall like paper.

The VTOL lurched slightly from the shockwave.

“Doors opening!” the pilot shouted. “Deploy, deploy—go, go!”

The ramp dropped—and the storm hit you in the face.

Rain. Smoke. Sirens. And somewhere beneath it all, a familiar hum.

You ran.

Boots pounding against the rooftop, leaping the last few feet to the access hatch. Bucky and Yelena flanked you, weapons drawn, slicing through the chaos with practiced precision.

You barely had time to adjust before Bucky grabbed your arm, spinning you toward him. His face was grim, soaked, eyes blazing.

“Go!” he shouted over the roar. “You need to find him!”

“What about—?”

“We’ll handle the rest!” he cut in, already moving, already aiming down the chaos below. “If anyone can reach him before he turns this whole goddamn place to ash—it’s you. Yelena will be right behind you. Walker and Ava are already inside. Go!”

Your breath hitched.

Then you nodded, once, sharp and sure.

And you ran—straight into the smoke, straight into the fire.

Straight toward him.

The inside of the facility was a warzone. Emergency lights flickered through thick smoke. Sparks rained from broken ceiling panels. The walls were scorched, the tile beneath your boots cracked and slick with blood and water. You passed fallen bodies—some hostiles, some just gone, disintegrated into scorched outlines and ash.

He’d been here.

You ran faster. Your breath became shorter. Your fingers twitched at your sides.

And then you saw him.

Floating.

Just inches off the ground, his body trembling with power barely held in check. His suit was torn, soaked, blood-slick. His hair clung to his forehead in damp curls. His hands hung at his sides, fingers curled in like claws.

He hand't noticed you yet. He was talking to himself, low and frantic, like he didn't even realize sound was coming out of his mouth.

“I didn’t mean to—I tried, I tried, they didn’t listen—I told them not to run—why did they run—”

Your heart clenched. You took a breath, steady and slow. Lifted your hands, palms open, non-threatening. Stepped forward, one careful step at a time.

"Bob," you whispered.

His head jerked up like a struck animal. His eyes were pitch black. Not just his pupils. Everything. You could see the Void slowly taking over control of his entire body. Crawling across his skin in veins of shadow, threading through him like poison, claiming more and more by the second. There was nothing human in his face.

Then he saw you.

You took another step forward, heart hammering against your ribs.

"Bob," you said again, softer now.

His lips parted. The black in his eyes shimmered, like something beneath it was trying to break through, trying to remember.

You took another step.

"I'm here," you said, voice steady despite the tremble in your hands. "It's me."

"GET DOWN!" a voice screamed behind you.

You barely turned in time to see the soldier—young, shaken, finger already tightening on the trigger of his rifle, aimed straight at Bob.

“No!” you shouted, throwing a hand out. “Don’t—don’t shoot him!”

But it was too late.

You whipped back toward Bob—and his hand was already rising. Not fast. Slow. Deliberate.

Eyes locked on the soldier, face blank and unreadable, voice low and distant.

“Mine.”

“Bob!” you screamed, adrenaline tearing through your veins like lightning. You rushed toward him, arm outstretched. “STOP! STOP!”

A pulse of black energy burst from his palm. It didn’t make a sound. It didn’t explode. It just erased. The soldier was there—and then he wasn’t.

No scream. No blood. Just a curling wisp of smoke, and a blackened shadow scorched into the tile where he’d stood. Like reality itself had been scrubbed clean.

Your breath caught. Your body froze.

The soldier was gone. Just like that. And Bob? He didn't move. Didn't even flinch. Just stood there, hand still raised, void energy curling around his fingers like it wanted more.

You moved before you even realized it.

You ran.

“BOB!” you screamed, voice hoarse with panic.

You slammed into him, hands flying up to grab his face—rough, desperate, grounding. Your fingers dug into his jaw, into his cheeks, trying to feel him, shake him loose from the darkness overtaking his body.

“Bob! Look at me!” you yelled, tears already slipping down your face. “Fuck—look at me, please!"

His head twitched in your grip, eyes still black, but they widened. Like he didn’t know how you got so close. Like he didn’t even recognize his own name.

“You promised,” you choked out, forehead pressed against his. “You promised you wouldn’t let this happen again. You said I could help you. You let me in. Bob, please, I know you can hear me. Let me in. Let me help you."

And then—

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

The black void in his eyes gone, replaced by fear. Replaced by gut-wrenching guilt.

And suddenly his hands were on you—gripping your arms, trembling hard. Holding you like you were the only thing keeping him from flying apart.

“I didn’t mean to,” he rasped, voice splintering in his throat. “I just… he—he pointed that gun at you. I—”

His knees buckled.

You caught him.

“I didn’t mean to,” he rasped again, clinging like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “I didn’t—fuck, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady, fingers stroking through his hair, down his back. “I know, it’s okay. You’re okay—I got you. I'm right here."

You could feel it under your hands—the tension building again. The static crawling across his skin. He was shaking harder now, like he was trying to hold himself together with bare hands and sheer will, and it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

“I told them,” he growled, voice rising, wild and hoarse. “I told them not to send me. I told them—I told them!”

“Bob,” you tried again, your hands cradling his face, trying to ground him. “Stop—just breathe, okay? Look at me. Just look at me. It’s over. You’re okay. I’m here.”

“Bob—”

“Holy shit,” someone gasped.

You turned. Too fast. The team stood there. Yelena’s eyes were wide. Ava’s mouth hung open. Alexei looked stunned. Bucky was frozen mid-step.

And Walker? Walker’s gaze went straight to the scorched mark on the floor, and his lip curled.

“What the fuck did he do?”

That was it.

You snapped.

“You were supposed to look out for him!” you roared, your voice echoing down the hall like a whipcrack. “You knew he wasn’t ready! You knew, and you left him in there anyway—what the fuck were you thinking?!”

“Don’t yell at me because your little pet project finally snapped—”

You stepped toward him so fast Yelena actually reached out to stop you.

“Say that again, Walker.” you dared, low and deadly. “Say it. Fucking say it again.”

“Guys—” Ava started.

“Oh my god,” Yelena whispered behind you.

And that’s when you realized—Bob wasn’t in your arms anymore.

You turned, panic already in your throat. He was standing a few feet away, eyes locked on the floor, fists clenched. His shoulders were shaking, his jaw tight, like he was about to split open.

The way they were all looking at him. Like he was a monster.

And he saw it. He saw everything.

“No, no, wait—” you started.

But he was already moving. He shoved past you, not roughly—never roughly—but like he couldn’t stand to be touched anymore. Like he didn’t deserve it. And then he ran.

You didn’t hesitate.

You ran after him.

You found him down a back alley, drenched in rain, his back pressed to the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His fists were clenched, jaw tight, chest heaving like he couldn’t catch his breath. He hadn’t looked at you yet, but you could see it—how close he was to falling apart, how the power still surged beneath his skin, barely contained. His body shook with it, with guilt, with the kind of rage that didn’t know where to go.

You took a step closer and he shifted like he was going to bolt again, eyes flicking to the shadows like he could vanish into them.

You grabbed his wrist. Tight. “Don’t run.”

That stopped him. His breath hitched, but he didn’t turn.

“Bob,” you said, softer now, over the pounding rain. “Please. Look at me.”

He turned slowly—and god, the look on his face broke you wide open. Soaked, shattered, eyes full of guilt and too many unsaid things. He looked like he didn’t believe he deserved to stand in front of you. Like just being seen by you hurt.

Then he kissed you.

Hard. Desperate.

Like he needed your mouth to remind him he was still real.

The kiss came out of nowhere. Teeth. Tongue. Desperation. You collided like two storms, all sharp edges and soaked skin. His mouth crushed yours, messy, uncoordinated, bruising. You dragged your hands through his rain-slick hair, pulled him closer until your bodies slammed together. He groaned your name like it hurt to say it, like it ripped something open inside him just to speak it.

You kissed him back with everything you had, dragging your fingers through his soaked curls, pulling him closer, crushing your lips to his until your teeth clacked and your breath fogged the air between you. He whimpered into it, raw and broken, hands clutching your waist through your suit like he didn’t know where to touch, like he needed to touch everywhere.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped against your lips, voice already hoarse. “I’m so fucking sorry—please, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t—” His words cut off with a sob. You shushed him with another kiss, slower this time, lips brushing his like a promise.

“I need you,” he breathed, voice broken. “God—I need you, I need you so bad—I can’t—fuck—don’t let go—please, don’t let go—”

Your gear hit the wall behind you, water slapping between you like applause. His mouth was on your throat, biting, sucking, moaning, as your hands worked beneath his already ripped suit, shoving it aside, frantic to get to skin. His hips rocked into yours like he couldn’t stand being apart from you even for a second.

“Please,” he groaned again, breath hot against your ear. “I’ll do anything. Anything. Just—fuck—just let me have you.”

You gasped, arching against him, letting him press you tighter to the bricks. You were already soaked—skin flushed, thighs shaking—and the way he clung to you like you were the only real thing left in his world snapped something open inside you.

You grabbed his face, kissed him hard, desperate. “Take it,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Take anything. Everything. I’m all yours, Bob.”

He whimpered—actually whimpered—and that was it.

Your suit came undone in ragged pieces, his hands tearing at fastenings with trembling fingers, your legs wrapping around his waist as he shoved your soaked underwear aside. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, grinding his cock against your slick center until you cried out, nails raking down his back.

“Fuck—fuck, you’re so wet,” he gasped. “You want it, don’t you? You want me to lose it for you—inside you—?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, tilting your head back as he pushed in. “Yes, yes—please—”

He thrust into you in one deep, brutal stroke and you screamed, fingers clawing at his soaked suit, legs tightening around his hips. He was so deep, so hot, so real, and the way he fucked you—fast, rough, relentless—was like he didn’t know if he’d survive without this. Without you.

Every thrust hit something raw, something needy, his voice ragged against your ear. “You’re mine—you’re mine, say it—fuck, say it—”

“I’m yours,” you cried, body shaking. “I’m yours, Bob—fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

He sobbed against your throat, thrusting harder, faster, panting between curses and broken prayers. “You’re perfect—so perfect—god, you feel so good—you make everything quiet. You make it all fucking stop—”

And when you came, it hit like a shockwave—your whole body convulsing around him, mouth open in a wordless scream as he slammed into you, burying himself deep and coming hard, spilling inside you with a desperate cry of your name like it was the only thing anchoring him to this plane.

He held you afterward like he might never let go, still shaking, still breathing like he’d run through hell. His forehead pressed to yours, voice wrecked.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back, and this time, it was a vow.

His breathing was ragged.

Shallow gasps against your neck, chest rising and falling like he was still trying to outrun something only he could see. The rain hadn’t let up. It fell in heavy sheets around you, but neither of you moved. You stayed wrapped around him, trembling, your back against the soaked alley wall, his body still buried in yours, shaking with the aftershocks.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t even lift his head.

His arms stayed locked around your waist like a vise, like if he let go even a little, you’d disappear. You felt him swallow, once, twice—and then his shoulders began to shake in a different way.

“Bob?” you whispered, hand sliding up to the back of his head, fingers weaving through his soaked hair. “Hey. Hey, I’m here.”

He sobbed.

Quiet at first. Just a ragged breath that stuttered out of him like it had been waiting for too long. Then another. And another. His whole body trembled, forehead pressed to your shoulder as he finally—finally—let himself fall apart.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he choked out. “I tried—I tried so fucking hard—I just wanted to be useful, I wanted to help—and I killed him—”

You shushed him softly, rocking him gently where you stood, your hands stroking down his back.

“You came back to me,” you said, voice low. “That’s all that matters. You came back.”

“I don’t deserve this,” he rasped, holding you tighter. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. “You do. You do. You’re still here. You’re still you. That’s all I care about.”

You stayed like that for what felt like forever—him wrapped around you like a lifeline, your bodies still locked together, breathing in sync. The heat between you slowly cooled, but the weight of it all stayed heavy, real.

Eventually, his head lifted, eyes red-rimmed, cheeks wet.

He looked at you like he didn’t believe you were real. Like maybe you were the only thing left in the world that hadn’t abandoned him.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

You cupped his face, thumb brushing over the scar just below his eye.

“I know,” you said. “But I’ve got you.”

And he leaned into your hand like a man starved for touch.

Back at the tower, everything was chaos—shouting, agents scrambling to do damage control, the team fighting with each other, trying to put the blame on someone—but none of it touched you. Not when you had him. Not when he never once let go of your hand.

You didn't go to the infirmary. Didn't sit through the debrief. Bucky tried to say something, but you just shook your head. Bob didn't even look at him. At no one.

You led him straight to your room.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, his body sagged like the air had left him entirely. You helped him out of the rest of his suit, piece by piece, your fingers gentle even when your heart still ached from the weight of it all. He did the same for you, so soft, so gentle, like he was afraid to hurt you.

You pulled him into your bed without a word.

He followed like he always did. Like he couldn’t not.

He wrapped around you the way he always did—legs tangled, arms tight around your waist, face buried against your neck. But this time it wasn’t just comfort.

It was clinging.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t ask. Just held on.

You stroked his hair, tracing slow patterns into his scalp, letting your breath match his until he calmed, until that tremble in his shoulders finally stilled.

But he still didn’t sleep.

You felt him shift closer, nose brushing your collarbone. His voice, when it came, was wrecked and so, so quiet.

“Do you think they’ll ever look at me the same?” he asked, voice barely more than a breath.

You didn’t answer right away. You could feel how tightly he was holding his breath, like he was bracing for the worst. You pulled him closer, your fingers threading through the back of his hair, your lips brushing against his forehead.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “They know it. Even if they won’t say it out loud. This—what happened—you didn’t want this. And they know that.”

He didn’t reply, not at first. But you felt it—the way his chest stuttered, how he finally let himself breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, broken.

“I know.”

“I was so close,” he said, voice cracking like glass. “I could feel it. Like I was right there. One more second and I wouldn’t have come back.”

“But you did,” you murmured, pressing your forehead to his. “You came back to me.”

He shuddered, breath hitching again as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Leaving a soft kiss that made your heart clench. “You’re the only one that brings me back,” he whispered. “The only one.”

You didn’t say anything else.

You just held him tighter.

And finally—finally—he started to drift.

It wasn’t peaceful. He twitched. Mumbled things you couldn’t make out. Flinched like his dreams were still trying to drag him under.

But he didn’t wake.

Because you were still there.

And he knew it.

taglist ⊱☆⊰ @notreallythatlost @mandoalorian @urfavfakeblonde @sunday-bug @ruexj283 @mylifeofcalculatedchaos

[slutoru1207]

Invincible!Mark x reader x

Variants!Mark part 13

Warnings: AFAB Reader, Post-Labor Recovery, Psychological Distress, Possessive Behavior, Multiversal Variants, Angst, Horror Elements, Yandere Themes, Emotional Manipulation, Mother-Child Bonding, Creeping Dread

The weight of your mistake settled in your chest like a stone.

Scarred Mark held your baby like he was something fragile, something he had lost before and never thought he’d get to hold again. His breath was unsteady, his grip protective yet reverent.

You could see it in his eyes—the way his fingers curled just a little tighter, his body shifting slightly away as if preparing to keep the child in his arms for longer than you allowed.

Your pulse quickened.

“That’s enough,” you said, voice calm but firm.

Scarred Mark didn’t move.

The baby stirred in his arms, making a soft sound. Scarred Mark inhaled sharply, his thumb brushing over the baby's tiny hand as if memorizing the feel of him.

The room was too quiet.

Then Sinister Mark hummed, tilting his head. “Come on, let the others have a turn.”

Scarred Mark hesitated.

Your stomach twisted when his fingers flexed, his entire body unwilling to give up the small bundle in his arms. You stepped forward, forcing your voice to remain steady.

“Give him back.”

Scarred Mark's jaw tightened, but he slowly—reluctantly—shifted the baby into your arms. The moment your son was back against your chest, your heart settled, though your nerves remained frayed.

Sinister Mark chuckled. “You act like we’d hurt him.”

“I don’t trust any of you.”

Sinister Mark smirked, but another Variant—one you hadn’t heard speak much—stepped forward. He had softer eyes, a calmness to him that the others lacked. He looked almost… gentle.

“Can I hold him?” His voice was quieter, almost hesitant. “Just for a second.”

You hesitated.

This was dangerous. They were getting too comfortable.

You tightened your arms around your baby and shook your head. “No. I’m done playing this game.”

The gentler Mark looked disappointed, but he didn’t push.

Sinister Mark, however, exhaled dramatically. “She’s being difficult.”

“She’s protecting her son,” Scarred Mark muttered.

Sinister Mark raised a brow. “Our son.”

Your stomach clenched.

“He’s not yours,” you snapped. “He’s Mark’s. He’s mine.”

Sinister Mark’s expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze darkened.

“Mark?” he echoed, almost amused. “You still think he’s coming for you?”

Your breath hitched.

The baby whimpered softly against you, sensing your distress. You forced yourself to steady your breathing, to calm the frantic beat of your heart.

Sinister Mark leaned closer. “You think he can fight all of us? You think he can rip through dimensions and find you before we make sure you never want to leave?”

Something cold settled in your chest.

You wouldn’t let them break you.

“I don’t belong to you,” you whispered.

Sinister Mark just smiled.

Your baby shifted in your arms, his tiny fingers brushing your skin. That small touch was enough to ground you—to remind you of what mattered.

Keeping him safe.

Getting out of here.

And making them pay.

Meanwhile, Back at the Facility

Mark paced like a caged animal, hands clenched at his sides. His breathing was ragged, his mind burning with the need to move, to do something.

Every second that passed was another second they had his family.

Eve stood nearby, her arms crossed, tension clear in every line of her body. Cecil was at the control panel, tracking energy signatures, while the Guardians worked in the background, gathering intel.

“We’re close,” Cecil muttered. “We have their portal signature. We’re tracking their next move.”

Mark stopped pacing. “Then let’s go.”

“Not yet.”

Mark’s eyes burned. “Cecil—”

“We need to do this right.” Cecil turned, meeting Mark’s furious gaze. “You rush in without a plan, and they’ll kill you.”

Mark’s breathing was heavy, his hands itching to hit something.

Then Donald spoke. “We found something.”

Cecil moved to his side. “What is it?”

Donald’s voice was steady. “A pattern. The Variants aren’t staying in one place—they’re keeping her moving. Probably so we can’t track her easily.”

Mark’s jaw clenched.

“They know we’re coming,” Eve said quietly.

Cecil nodded. “Yeah. But that won’t stop us.”

Mark took a slow breath, trying to control the burning fury in his chest. “How long?”

“Not long,” Cecil said. “Get ready.”

Mark didn’t need to be told twice.

-

The room was quieter now. The tension had settled, heavy and suffocating.

The baby had fallen asleep against your chest, his tiny breath warm against your skin. You held him close, refusing to let him go again.

Sinister Mark watched you with something unreadable in his eyes.

Scarred Mark had moved away, but you could feel the lingering weight of his grief.

The gentler Variant—the one who had asked to hold the baby—spoke again. “Can I at least… touch him?”

You stared at him.

His expression was different from the others. Not possessive. Not controlling. Just aching.

You hated them. But he—he wasn’t like Sinister Mark. He wasn’t like the cold ones who only saw you as something to claim.

You hesitated.

Then, slowly, carefully, you extended your hand—your son’s tiny fingers resting against your palm.

The Variant reached out.

His fingers brushed over your baby’s small hand, the touch barely there.

His breath hitched. His eyes burned.

“He’s so small,” he murmured.

Your heart clenched.

You weren’t sure if it was out of fear. Or pity.

Then Sinister Mark moved again, his smirk returning.

“Well,” he said casually, “if we’re all bonding, I think it’s only fair I get my turn.”

Your stomach twisted.

“No.”

His smirk widened. “Now, now. You let him touch the baby.”

“I said no.”

He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his gaze. “You act like you have a choice.”

Something inside you snapped.

“I do,” you whispered. “Because this isn’t over. And when Mark finds me, when he rips through this whole damn multiverse to get us back—you’ll regret everything.”

Sinister Mark’s smirk didn’t fade, but his eyes sharpened.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I hope he comes. That’ll just make it more fun.”

Your breath hitched.

You held your baby closer.

And you prayed—prayed—that Mark got here soon.

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

Hi! I don’t know if you’re doing requests, if not ignore this. I love your writing! My request would be bad batch x Jedi!reader( can be gen) where it’s their reaction to you having to save them and do a bunch of cool badass force moves to get to them. 🩷

Absolutely— I will gladly take any request x

I hope you enjoy this, I kinda went off on my own little world at the end.

⸻

Title: “About Time You Showed Up”

Bad batch x Jedi!Reader

The op was supposed to be simple: get in, grab the intel, get out.

So naturally, it was a disaster by hour two.

The Bad Batch was cornered inside a decrepit refinery complex, hunkered behind a wall of overturned crates as blaster fire lit up the air. Explosions cracked the walls. Wrecker was bleeding. Tech’s datapad was sparking. Crosshair was out of ammo.

Hunter muttered a curse. “We need backup. Now.”

Crosshair scoffed. “You mean the Jedi?”

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” Tech said, wincing as he adjusted his shattered goggles. “They are highly efficient warriors, after all.”

“Well, ours is late,” Echo gritted, shielding Wrecker with a dented durasteel panel. “And I don’t think those guys outside are going to politely wait for her.”

Then, like the Force heard them bickering—

The air dropped a few degrees.

The wind shifted.

And then the main door of the facility exploded inward—not from detonite or a charge, but like something had pushed it in with terrifying, silent power.

Smoke billowed.

And out of it stepped you.

Cloak trailing behind you, lightsaber already humming in your hand, you walked into the chaos like you were late to a dinner party—not a battlefield.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, lifting your hand.

Three enemy droids shot into the air like ragdolls, slammed into a pipe overhead, and sparked out. “Had a bit of traffic.”

Wrecker blinked. “That… was awesome.”

Hunter stared as you leapt forward, deflecting blaster bolts without looking. “Remind me never to complain about Jedi again.”

You moved like a shadow. One second you were blocking a shot, the next you were throwing your saber, calling it back mid-spin, flipping off a wall, and dragging a pair of guards toward each other with the Force so they knocked heads and dropped.

“Show off,” Crosshair muttered, but there was something weirdly close to admiration in his tone.

“Excuse me?” you called as you force-pulled a turret off its base and crushed it into a ball. “You want to do this next time, sharpshooter?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind the view,” Crosshair said under his breath.

Tech, oddly calm amid the chaos, adjusted his goggles with a broken-off screw. “Fascinating. You manipulated five separate Force events within a span of—”

“I’ll send you a diagram later!” you called.

You sliced the control panel, opened the bulkhead, and gestured. “Come on, boys. I’m not babysitting this op all day.”

Hunter helped Wrecker to his feet. “That was… intense.”

Echo gave you a half-grin. “We’d be dead if you hadn’t shown.”

“You would be,” you said smugly. “Good thing I like you.”

“Is that a Jedi flirting?” Crosshair drawled. “Should I be worried about a lightsaber through my chest or a date?”

You raised a brow. “Depends. Are you always this cocky, or is it the blood loss talking?”

Crosshair smirked. “You tell me.”

As the team jogged after you, Tech whispered to Echo, “I believe this is what organic beings refer to as ‘tension.’”

“You think?” Echo grinned, ducking blaster fire as you launched an enemy into a vat of molten ore with a flick of your hand.

“Let’s save the flirty quips for after we’re not being shot at,” Hunter grumbled—but he wasn’t exactly not smiling.

You stopped mid-run, looked over your shoulder, and grinned. “Then pick up the pace, boys. You can flirt after we survive.”

⸻

The air inside the safehouse was still hazy from Wrecker’s attempt at cooking, and someone had definitely patched Crosshair’s blaster wound with duct tape and attitude.

But everyone was alive. And that was saying something.

You were seated cross-legged on a crate, calmly cleaning your lightsaber with the kind of peace only someone who had deflected about 200 blaster bolts could muster. The Force hummed around you, quiet but alert.

Hunter dropped onto the floor nearby, arms resting on his knees. “You always fight like that?”

You looked up, raising a brow. “Like what?”

“Like gravity doesn’t apply to you and you’re mad at every object in a ten-meter radius.”

You grinned. “Only when people I care about are in trouble.”

Crosshair, lounging against the wall with his arms crossed, scoffed. “So, you do care.”

“Don’t get excited,” you teased. “I’d do the same for my hydrospanner.”

Wrecker burst out laughing while Crosshair smirked like he’d just been promoted.

Echo, who was calmly running diagnostics on his arm, chimed in: “I don’t know. I think you’ve got favorites.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

Tech looked up from where he was scanning his datapad, eyes sharp behind his cracked goggles. “You know, from a technical standpoint, some of your techniques—particularly the telekinetic manipulation mid-flight—could be extremely beneficial in combat.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying you want to train with me, Tech?”

He cleared his throat. “For research purposes, of course.”

Echo leaned back against a support beam. “I wouldn’t mind a session or two either. Might pick up a move or two that doesn’t involve being thrown across a battlefield.”

“I think I should go first,” Hunter said mildly. “Since I’m the one who has to keep all of you alive.”

Wrecker raised a hand. “Hey, I want to train with the Jedi too!”

You looked around at all of them. “Let me guess… you all want to train now?”

“Better than watching Crosshair try to flirt,” Echo muttered.

“I don’t flirt,” Crosshair said flatly.

“You stared at their hands for five minutes straight,” Hunter pointed out.

Crosshair didn’t deny it. “They’ve got good saber grip. It’s tactical.”

You smirked and slowly stood, clipping your saber back to your belt. “Alright. We’ll start tomorrow. One at a time. You’ll get a feel for the Force, and I’ll see who whines the least when they land flat on their back.”

“I never whine,” Crosshair muttered.

“Good,” you said with a wicked grin. “You’ll be first.”

Wrecker fist-pumped. Tech adjusted his datapad like it was a test. Echo and Hunter shared a look that said, We’re all going to die.

You stretched your arms and turned to leave.

“Oh,” you added over your shoulder. “And if you’re all so eager to get closer to the Force… don’t forget it can read minds.”

Five men froze. Completely.

You didn’t have to look to know exactly which ones had immediately panicked.

Yeah. You were going to have fun with this.

⸻

You stood in the middle of the field, arms crossed, calm as ever.

The Bad Batch lined up in front of you like misbehaving cadets at a very weird summer camp. Wrecker was bouncing on his heels. Crosshair looked bored already. Echo was trying to focus. Tech was holding a notebook. And Hunter—Hunter was watching you like he was trying to anticipate your every move. Again.

“Alright,” you said, voice light. “Rule number one: you are not Force-sensitive. So stop trying to feel it. You’ll just give yourself a migraine.”

Tech quietly lowered his fingers from his temple and put his notebook away.

“Instead,” you continued, pacing in front of them like an instructor, “we’re going to focus on reflexes, awareness, and how not to swing a lightsaber into your own leg.”

Wrecker raised his hand. “Wait—do we get lightsabers?”

You blinked. “Do you want to lose an arm?”

Wrecker grinned. “Kinda depends on the story I can tell after.”

Echo muttered, “Maker help us.”

You tossed a training baton at Crosshair, who caught it one-handed with zero enthusiasm.

“Let’s see how you handle this, sharpshooter,” you said, smirking. “Try to block me.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a magic trick to win a duel.”

You raised your training blade. “That’s cute. Try to last thirty seconds.”

What followed was the most stubborn, cocky, and utterly chaotic sparring session you had ever experienced.

Crosshair lasted eighteen seconds. He blamed the sun.

Hunter was fast, perceptive, and nearly knocked you off your feet once, but then got distracted when you smiled at him. He never admitted it.

Echo was calculated but got annoyed when you used a Force push to trip him mid-roll. “Not fair,” he growled, flat on his back.

“I told you I’d use it,” you shrugged.

Tech kept trying to guess your next move based on logic. Unfortunately, you were using the Force. And chaos.

“I have a theory,” he said, face-down in the grass.

“I’m sure you do.”

Then came Wrecker.

“Alright,” he said, grinning like a kid about to break a toy, “gimme your best shot.”

You dodged his first three swings. The fourth came very close.

“Easy, big guy,” you huffed, ducking under his arm. “This is training, not deathmatch—”

“Oops!” Wrecker slipped on a rock, stumbled forward, and you had to Force-jump to avoid being pancaked. You landed behind him, breathing hard.

“That was… impressive,” you managed.

“Did I pass?” he asked, hopeful.

“Pass? You almost Force-chucked me into next week!”

“Cool.”

Later, as the group collapsed in a sweaty, bruised heap under a tree, you sat cross-legged nearby, sipping from a canteen.

“I’ll admit,” you said with a sly grin, “you’re all… slightly less hopeless than I expected.”

“High praise,” Echo muttered.

Crosshair lay back, arms behind his head. “So when’s the advanced class?”

You tossed a pebble at his head. “Never.”

Tech looked up from scribbling notes. “I would still like to record your movement patterns. Possibly… for private analysis.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Private?”

Hunter cleared his throat, cutting in fast. “I’d be up for a meditation session. Just us.”

You blinked. “You meditate?”

“I do now.”

Wrecker sat up. “Wait, I want to meditate too!”

“No, you don’t,” Echo sighed.

You lay back in the grass beside them, arms tucked under your head, eyes half-closed. “You know… for a bunch of non-sensitive, chaos-wielding commandos… you’re not so bad.”

Crosshair, eyes closed, smirked. “Careful, Jedi. Keep talking like that, and we might start thinking you like us.”

You smirked back. “I do like you. I just like kicking your asses more.”

[the-winter-spider]

Death Rattle | B. Barnes

word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst, death

A/N: I was inspired by how did it end by ts, enjooooyyyyyyyy

Not proof read or edited will do that tonight!

----

The quinjet hummed quietly as you and the team prepared for the mission ahead. You adjusted your comms, listening to the chatter of your teammates as you loaded your weapons.

“So, what’s the bet today?” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms.

“I say Steve’s shield gets stuck in a wall again,” you teased, glancing at the Captain with a grin. “Ten bucks.”

Steve rolled his eyes, adjusting his helmet. “That happened once.”

“And we’ll never let you forget it,” Natasha chimed in smoothly. “I’m betting Bucky’s arm malfunctions, Fifty bucks says he’s cursing up a storm in Russian before we’re done here.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Bucky grumbled, though you could hear the smirk in his voice. “I’d say something about Romanoff’s hair getting messed up, but that’s just asking for trouble.”

“Smart man,” Natasha replied with a smirk.

“Alright, focus up, team,” Steve said, his voice firm as the quinjet began to descend. “Intel says the Hydra base is heavily guarded, but we’re taking them by surprise. Y/N, you and Bucky take the east wing. Sam, Natasha, you’re with me on the west. We take out the comms tower, secure the data, and get out.”

“Got it, Cap,” you confirmed, tightening your grip on your weapon. Bucky gave you a nod, his blue eyes filled with quiet determination.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam’s voice broke in just before you dropped down to the ground. “Try not to blow anything up this time, alright?”

“No promises, birdbrain,” you shot back, grinning as you and Bucky hit the ground running.

—

The mission had been going smoothly—too smoothly, if you were being honest with yourself. You and Bucky had infiltrated the Hydra base with minimal resistance, clearing the first few checkpoints with ease. It was almost unsettling how little security you’d encountered, but you pushed the thought aside as you focused on the task at hand.

“Alright, we’re in,” you whispered into your comm, pressing yourself against the wall as you peeked around the corner. “Heading to the main server room.”

“Copy that,” Steve’s voice crackled in your ear. “Sam and I have the control room in sight. Be ready to move once we take it out.”

“Got it,” you replied, glancing at Bucky beside you. He gave you a nod, his eyes scanning the hallway ahead. You both moved in perfect sync, your footsteps silent as you made your way down the dimly lit corridor.

“Man, I can’t believe we’re doing this without any real backup,” you muttered, shaking your head as you reached the door to the server room. “It’s almost too easy.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s asking for trouble, right?”

You smirked, shrugging as you began to work on the door’s control panel. “Hey, if something goes wrong, at least we’re together.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that always works out so well,” Bucky quipped, his voice dry but tinged with warmth.

You chuckled, focusing on bypassing the security lock. “You’re just mad because I usually end up saving your butt.”

Bucky snorted softly, shaking his head. “You keep telling yourself that, doll.”

The lock beeped, and the door slid open with a quiet hiss. You and Bucky slipped inside, your eyes scanning the rows of servers that filled the room. Everything was eerily quiet—no alarms, no guards, just the hum of electronics around you.

“Alright, let’s make this quick,” you said, pulling out the EMP device from your pack. “Once this goes off, we’ll have about two minutes to get out before the backup systems kick in.”

“Two minutes?” Bucky gave you a look. “You sure you didn’t set that timer a little tight?”

You grinned, already attaching the device to the main server. “Where’s the fun in a long timer? Besides, you love a challenge.”

“Not when it involves getting blown up,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Just as you were about to activate the EMP, a familiar voice crackled over the comms. “Hey, Y/N,” Sam’s voice was light, almost amused. “Try not to blow anything up this time, alright?”

You rolled your eyes, pressing the button to start the timer. “No promises, birdbrain.”

“Seriously, don’t—” But Sam’s voice cut off as the EMP activated, the lights flickering before plunging the room into darkness.

“Time to move!” you called out, grabbing Bucky’s arm as you bolted for the exit. The two of you sprinted down the hallway, the sound of alarms finally blaring through the base. The EMP had done its job, but it had also triggered the security systems.

“I swear, you live for the chaos,” Bucky grumbled as you turned a corner, narrowly avoiding a group of Hydra agents who were scrambling to respond to the alarms.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you shot back, your adrenaline spiking as you took out two agents with quick, precise shots.

Bucky just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

“Nah,” you teased, ducking into an adjacent hallway. “I’ll leave that to Hydra.”

Just as you said it, an explosion rocked the building—one you hadn’t planned. The shockwave threw you both off your feet, slamming you into the wall as debris rained down around you.

“What the hell was that?!” Bucky shouted, coughing as dust filled the air.

“Not me!” you called back, pulling him to his feet. “I didn’t touch anything, I swear!”

“Must’ve hit something important with that EMP,” Bucky muttered, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. “Or they just really didn’t want us getting out.”

“Guess we better not disappoint them,” you said with a grim smile. “Come on, let’s move before this whole place comes down.”

The two of you sprinted for the extraction point, the sound of collapsing ceilings and distant explosions echoing through the base. You could feel the tension rising in your chest, the thrill of the mission mingling with the ever-present danger. But even as the walls crumbled around you, you couldn’t help but laugh, a wild, exhilarated sound that caught Bucky off guard.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, glancing at you with raised eyebrows.

“Just thinking,” you gasped, dodging a falling chunk of concrete, “Sam’s gonna kill me when he finds out about this.”

Bucky shook his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, but it’s why we keep you around, isn’t it?”

“Chaos and explosions?” you quipped, ducking under a low-hanging beam.

“And saving my butt,” Bucky added, his eyes glinting with affection despite the chaos surrounding you.

You just smiled, your heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the mission. “Guess we’re even then, huh?”

“Guess so,” Bucky agreed, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

The two of you finally burst out into the open air, the quinjet waiting for you on the horizon. As you ran for it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just another crazy day in your life—one that you wouldn’t trade for anything

—

The base was eerily quiet as you made your way inside, the only sounds coming from the hum of machinery and the distant murmur of Hydra agents. You and Bucky moved in sync, clearing rooms with practised ease.

“You know, this is almost too easy,” you muttered, ducking behind a crate as you approached the east wing. “I’m starting to think they’re just letting us in.”

“Don’t jinx it, doll,” Bucky replied, scanning the hallway ahead. “We get in, get the data, and get out. Nice and simple.”

“Simple? Us? You’re funny, Barnes,” you quipped, flashing him a grin before slipping into the next room.

—

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over Brooklyn. The streets were quieter now, the bustle of the day giving way to the peaceful hum of evening.

 You and Bucky walked side by side, the familiar rhythm of your footsteps in sync as you made your way through the neighbourhood. It was a perfect summer evening—one of those rare moments when everything felt just right.

“You ever think about getting out of here someday?” Bucky asked suddenly, his voice soft, almost wistful.

You glanced over at him, catching the way the fading sunlight highlighted the sharp lines of his jaw, the warmth in his blue eyes. “You mean leaving Brooklyn? Or the Avengers”

“All of it, you know, see what’s out there.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Paris, London… maybe somewhere quiet, like the countryside. Just to get away from everything for a while.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining Bucky wandering through cobblestone streets in some far-off city, looking as effortlessly charming as ever. “Sounds nice,” you said. “But I can’t really picture you as a farm boy, Barnes.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I think i’d manage. But what about you? If you could go anywhere, where would it be?”

You tilted your head, considering the question. “I don’t know… Somewhere peaceful, I guess. But it’s not really about the place. It’s more about who you’re with, you know?”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had quieted down, leaving just the two of you in that golden light. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I know.”

There was a comfortable silence as you continued walking, the air between you filled with unspoken words. The truth lingered there, close enough to touch but never quite reaching the surface.

 You wanted to tell him—wanted to say that wherever he went, you’d follow. That he was the person you’d want to see the world with, whether it was Paris or a tiny farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

But instead, you nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You’d probably miss the city too much anyway. Can’t imagine you without your favourite diner.”

Bucky laughed, the tension easing as he bumped you back. “True, Can’t beat their apple pie.”

“See? You’re a city boy through and through.”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning at you. “But I’d trade it all for the right company.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, you thought about what it would mean to just say it—to tell him how you felt, how you’d always felt. But then he looked away, his gaze drifting to the horizon, and the moment passed.

“Let’s head back,” he said after a while, his voice light but his eyes carrying a weight that matched your own.

You nodded, falling back into step beside him. The walk home was filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed naturally between you. But beneath the laughter and the teasing, there was something deeper—a connection that went unspoken, yet was understood by both of you. Neither of you admitted your feelings that day, but in your hearts, you knew. It was simple….

Some things didn’t need words. 

—

That’s when things went sideways. The comms tower was in sight when a sudden explosion rocked the building. The lights flickered, and the walls trembled as debris rained down. You barely had time to react before the hallway filled with Hydra agents, weapons drawn.

“Ambush!” Bucky shouted, raising his rifle and firing at the incoming agents. You ducked behind a pillar, returning fire as the room erupted into chaos.

“Of course it couldn’t be simple,” you muttered, taking out an agent before he could reach you. “Sam, Natasha, how’s it looking on your end?”

“We’ve got a few surprises too,” Natasha replied, her voice tense. “Hold your position—we’re almost done.”

“Bucky, we’ve got to take out the comms tower,” you said, glancing at him. “You hold them off, I’ll go plant the charges.”

“I’ll go with you—” Bucky began, but you shook your head.

“No, you’re better at holding a line. I’ll be quick,” you assured him, offering a small smile.

He hesitated, then nodded, his eyes locking onto yours. “Be careful, Y/N.”

“Always am,” you winked before darting down the hallway toward the tower.

You could hear the sounds of battle behind you—Bucky’s rifle, Steve’s shield clanging, Sam’s wings cutting through the air. But your focus was on the mission. You reached the comms room, planting the charges quickly, but as you were about to leave, the ceiling groaned, and you heard it—a crack, then a roar as part of the building started to give way.

“Y/N, get out of there!” Steve’s voice barked through the comms.

But it was too late. The floor beneath you crumbled, sending you crashing down into the lower levels. Pain shot through your body as you hit the ground hard, dust and rubble filling your lungs as you struggled to breathe.

“Doll? Y/N, do you copy?” Bucky’s voice crackled in your ear, frantic.

You coughed, trying to clear your throat. “I’m… I’m here,” you gasped, pain lancing through your side. “But I’m pinned… building’s coming down.”

“Hold on, sweetheart. I’m coming for you,” Bucky grunted, the desperation in his voice unmistakable “Just hold on” He repeated grunting, his voice strained as you heard him fighting his way to you. The sound of metal clashing and boots thudding echoed in the distance, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“Buck, go, go, go! That way!” Steve shouted, his voice sharp with urgency. 

You could feel it—the end. It crept up like a shadow, warm yet cold, each sensation clashing against the other like fire and ice. It was almost poetic, how the contradiction mirrored you and Bucky, two halves that made a flawed, perfect whole.

—

The Avengers compound was unusually lively that afternoon, with everyone gathered in the common room, taking a rare break from missions and training. 

Steve and Sam were engrossed in a game of chess, Natasha was flipping through a magazine, and Tony was tinkering with some gadget on the coffee table. You were perched on the edge of the couch, sipping a cup of tea, when Bucky walked in.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said, his voice warm and smooth. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes locking onto yours. “Miss me?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your tea. “I didn’t even notice you were gone, Barnes.”

“Oh, that’s cold,” Sam commented without looking up from the chessboard. “But you know she’s lying, right?”

Bucky just grinned, strolling over to where you sat. He took the cup from your hand, taking a sip himself before handing it back. “Well, I’m back now. What’d I miss?”

“Not much,” you replied, ignoring the way your heart fluttered when his fingers brushed against yours. “Steve’s losing to Sam, Tony’s probably breaking something, and Nat is pretending she’s not listening to us.”

Natasha looked up, raising an eyebrow “I’m not pretending.”

Bucky chuckled, sitting down next to you—closer than necessary. His arm rested casually along the back of the couch, his presence warm and solid beside you. “Well, I’m sure things were dull without me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “If by ‘dull,’ you mean ‘peaceful,’ then yeah.”

“Oh, come on. You know you missed me, sweetheart,” he teased, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always made your pulse quicken.

“Keep telling yourself that, Barnes,” you shot back, leaning in slightly. “Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

“Y/N, just admit you missed him already,” Tony said, not even looking up from his work. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Who says I missed him?” you countered, your tone playful. “Maybe I just enjoy watching him trip over his own ego.”

Bucky’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous spark that always set your nerves on edge in the best way. “Funny, I don’t remember tripping…Must’ve been too busy thinking about you.”

Natasha snorted softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Steve, who had finally looked up from the chess game. “You two are impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“More like predictable,” Steve added, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“Who’s fooling who?” Bucky asked, his tone light, but there was something more in his eyes—something that lingered just beneath the surface, unspoken. He turned back to you, his gaze softening. “I think she’s just playing hard to get.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head. “Who says I’m playing at all?”

The room went silent for a moment, everyone waiting for what would happen next. You could feel the tension crackling between you and Bucky, the air thick with the things neither of you ever said out loud. But instead of pushing it further, you leaned back, breaking eye contact with a casual shrug.

“Guess we’ll never know,” you said, your tone light.

Bucky’s smirk didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something only you could see. “Maybe one day.”

“Maybe,” you echoed, your voice quieter now, more sincere.

Tony sighed dramatically, throwing down his tools. “This is worse than a soap opera. Just kiss already, would you?”

“Not a chance,” you and Bucky said in unison, both of you grinning as the room erupted in groans and laughter.

But as the banter continued, as everyone got back to their own conversations, Bucky’s hand brushed yours again, lingering for just a second too long. And even though neither of you admitted it, in that brief touch, you both knew—something unspoken, something that didn’t need words.

—

“You’re my last 7 minutes,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“What? Doll, no, please, please hold on. We’re almost there,” he panted, his breath hitching in a way that broke your heart. Bucky never sounded like this—desperate, afraid. He was always the unbreakable one, the soldier who could face anything. But now, he was crumbling.

You licked your lips, your mouth dry, “After death…”

“You’re not dying!” Natasha’s voice cut through the comms, tight with fear. She thought they were almost done, thought you were almost safe, but then the ground shuddered. The building you were in groaned, and the next thing you knew, it started to collapse. Dust and debris filled the air as more agents swarmed in, but all you could think about was him.

—-

The party inside was in full swing—laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. The warmth of the celebration radiated through the rooms, but out on the balcony, it was peaceful, quiet, and far removed from the buzz inside. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you stood with Bucky, both of you gazing out at the stars that glittered in the sky.

You had both slipped away from the crowd unnoticed, seeking a moment of calm away from the festivities. The balcony was lit by the soft glow of string lights that draped along the railing, casting a gentle light over everything. The faint sound of the music inside reached you, but it was distant, like an echo of another world.

“Pretty out here, huh?” you murmured, leaning on the railing and looking up at the sky.

Bucky nodded, his eyes following the same path as yours. “Yeah…. It’s nice to get away from it all for a bit.”

You smiled, your gaze drifting to him. He was standing close, the light catching the edges of his face, making his blue eyes stand out against the night. There was something about the way he looked just then—so at ease, so content—that made your heart swell with affection.

Before you knew it, you were speaking without thinking. “You know, you have the most beautiful eyes, Buck.”

He turned to you, slightly taken aback by the compliment. A faint blush crept up his neck, and he let out a soft chuckle, clearly unsure how to respond. “I, uh… thanks, doll. That’s sweet of you.”

You shrugged, smiling as you reached out to gently take his hand. “It’s true. They’re… they’re kind, and they hold so much. I guess I just wanted you to know.”

Bucky looked at your hand in his, then back up at you, something tender and vulnerable flickering in his eyes. He hesitated for just a moment before stepping closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Y/N, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly, his voice soft but earnest. “In all my 100 years of living… I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, your heart fluttering wildly. He was so sincere, so open in that moment, that it left you speechless. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, wrapped in the magic of the night.

Without thinking, you took another step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest as his arms gently encircled your waist. The music from inside changed to a slower tune, one that drifted out onto the balcony, and before you knew it, Bucky was leading you in a slow, gentle dance.

The two of you swayed together, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if you’d been doing this for years. There was no need for words—everything you wanted to say was in the way he held you, the way he looked at you like you were the only person that mattered.

For a moment, you forgot about everything else. The past, the future, all of it melted away, leaving just this—this perfect, quiet moment under the stars.

It wasn’t until you heard a muffled laugh from inside that you realised you had an audience. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught sight of Steve, Natasha, and Sam standing by the glass patio doors, watching the two of you with grins on their faces. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, and Natasha winked before they all turned back to the party, leaving you and Bucky to your dance.

You laughed softly, resting your head against Bucky’s chest as you continued to sway. “I think we’ve been spotted.”

“Let ‘em watch,” Bucky murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “I’m not letting go just yet.”

“We're not gonna here the end of this” 

He shook his head smiling “No were not”

And with that, you both continued dancing under the stars, lost in each other, as the world outside kept spinning.

—

“The human brain still lives for 7 minutes and plays the most beautiful memories….” You paused, struggling for breath, your vision blurring “Its you Bucky, you’re my 7 minutes…”

“Cap!” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms, strained. “We need to hurry.” But you could hear it—the death rattle in your chest, your body betraying you as the darkness closed in.

Bucky was close now. You could feel his presence, the warmth of his hands as they found yours, trembling. “Sweetheart, no, don’t do this, don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice breaking in a way you’d never heard before.

You wanted to say something to comfort him, to tell him you’d be okay, that you’d see him again in those last 7 minutes. But the words wouldn’t come, your strength slipping away as everything faded.

“I love you…” was all you managed before the world went quiet, his tear-filled eyes the last thing you saw.

And then there was nothing.

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up. Please,” Bucky’s voice was barely a whisper now, thick with grief. His hands clutched yours desperately, his grip tightening as if he could somehow pull you back from the edge. But you were gone—your body limp, your chest no longer rising with breath. The warmth was fading fast, leaving you cold, just like the darkness swallowing him whole.

“Bucky, we have to move!” Steve’s voice broke through the haze, but it felt distant, like he was calling from miles away.

Bucky didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His entire world had narrowed to you—your lifeless form, the bloodstains on your suit, the silent, unmoving chest that would never rise again. His mind screamed at him to do something, but his body was frozen, paralyzed by the reality crashing down around him.

“Bucky!” Steve’s shout was louder now, closer, and then he was there, grabbing Bucky by the shoulder, shaking him. “We have to go, now! The building’s coming down!”

“Not without her,” Bucky rasped, his voice shattered. He lifted you into his arms, cradling you close like a lifeline, refusing to let go. “I’m not leaving her.”

Steve’s heart twisted painfully, seeing his friend like this—so broken, so lost. But the ground was trembling beneath them, the structure ready to collapse at any moment. “We’ll get her out,” Steve promised, his voice cracking. “But we have to move.”

Bucky finally looked up, his eyes red, brimming with unshed tears. Slowly, he nodded, and together they began to move, Steve covering Bucky as they fought their way back through the crumbling building. The walls groaned ominously, and dust filled the air, but Bucky didn’t care. All he could see was you, all he could feel was the unbearable weight of loss pressing down on his chest.

The team was waiting for them at the extraction point, their faces grim as they saw you in Bucky’s arms. Natasha’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, Sam’s jaw clenched tightly, and even Steve’s stoic expression was cracked with sorrow.

“Let’s go,” Steve said quietly, signalling for the quinjet. But Bucky couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to make it out, supposed to laugh about this later, supposed to be okay. You weren’t supposed to be dead in his arms.

The flight back was silent. No one spoke, the air thick with unspoken grief. Bucky sat motionless, his hand still gripping yours, his head bowed low. He didn’t let go even when they landed, didn’t let go even as they gently tried to take you from him. It wasn’t until Steve knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder, that Bucky finally released you, his eyes hollow, staring into nothing.

“You loved her,” Steve said softly, though it wasn’t a question.

Bucky’s voice was barely audible, a broken whisper. “She was everything, Steve.”

Steve’s hand tightened on his shoulder, offering silent comfort, but Bucky couldn’t feel it. All he felt was the emptiness, the unbearable ache that filled the space where you used to be.

And in that moment, he knew he would never be whole again.

[reaper2187]

Caitlyn kiramman x female reader

The Shadows We Share

The Escape Plan

The path back through the corridors of Stillwater was tense. Vi kept sneaking glances at Y/N, as if to confirm she was real and not some phantom conjured by guilt. Caitlyn, on the other hand, was focused, her analytical mind already calculating how they would manage to get Y/N out alongside Vi.

“Caitlyn,” Vi muttered, keeping her voice low as they followed the warden. “We’re not leaving without her.”

“That complicates things,” Caitlyn replied, her tone clipped but understanding. “The more people we bring, the more attention we’ll attract.”

“I’m not leaving her here,” Vi snapped, her fists clenching. “We’ll figure it out.”

Behind them, Y/N followed silently, her stoic demeanor unshaken. She noticed the exchange but didn’t comment. Her mind was already at work, mapping the prison layout she had memorized over years of captivity. If this was her chance, she wasn’t going to squander it.

When they reached a secluded corner near the cell blocks, Caitlyn turned to Y/N. “Do you have any useful information about the guards or the layout?”

Y/N leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “Useful? Yes. But I’m not handing it over without knowing what you’re really after.”

“We’re here to get Vi out,” Caitlyn said firmly. “You’re a...bonus.”

Y/N smirked faintly. “How flattering.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Y/N, cut the cryptic crap. If you’ve got something, now’s the time.”

Y/N’s expression shifted, a flicker of something warmer—reminiscent of the sisterly bond they once shared. She relented with a small sigh. “Fine. The guards rotate every four hours, and the weakest point is the west gate. It’s minimally staffed because they assume no one gets that far.”

“That’s...convenient,” Caitlyn said, skepticism creeping into her voice.

“Convenience has nothing to do with it,” Y/N replied. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this. You just happened to bring it to me."

The trio moved quickly, keeping to the shadows as they made their way toward the west gate. The air was thick with unspoken tension, especially between Caitlyn and Y/N.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who’s supposed to be an inmate,” Caitlyn remarked quietly as they walked.

Y/N glanced at her, her lips twitching into a small smile. “And you’re awfully chatty for an enforcer.”

“I’m just trying to figure you out,” Caitlyn replied, her voice steady. “You don’t strike me as someone who belongs in a place like this.”

“That’s because you don’t know me,” Y/N said simply. “But I know your type—Piltover’s best and brightest, always thinking you’re a step ahead. You’re predictable.”

Caitlyn bristled, but before she could respond, Vi intervened. “Enough. Both of you.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Relax, Vi. I’m just getting to know your...friend.”

“Yeah, well, save it for after we get out,” Vi said, shooting them both a warning look.

When they reached the west gate, Y/N’s intel proved accurate. The area was lightly guarded, and the trio quickly dispatched the two sentries patrolling the corridor. Caitlyn’s sharpshooting combined with Vi’s brute strength made for an efficient team, though Y/N watched them with an air of quiet judgment.

“You two work well together,” she observed as they approached the gate.

“Thanks,” Caitlyn said, her tone curt. “Now, how do we get this open?”

Y/N stepped forward, examining the control panel beside the gate. “Leave it to me.”

“You know how to hack this?” Vi asked, surprised.

“I’ve picked up a few skills,” Y/N replied, her fingers moving deftly over the keypad. “Being locked up doesn’t mean you stop learning.”

Within moments, the gate creaked open, revealing the cold, misty expanse of the sea beyond. Caitlyn glanced at Y/N, impressed despite herself. “Not bad.”

“I aim to please,” Y/N said with a small shrug.

“Let’s move,” Vi urged, stepping through the gate. “We’re not out yet.”

As they made their way toward the rendezvous point Caitlyn had arranged, the silence was heavy with unspoken questions. Finally, Caitlyn couldn’t hold back any longer.

“You’re different from what I expected,” she said to Y/N, her voice carefully measured.

Y/N raised a brow. “And what did you expect?”

“Someone...less composed,” Caitlyn admitted. “Most people in Stillwater lose themselves. You seem like you’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Y/N’s gaze turned distant. “Let’s just say I’ve had time to reflect.”

Vi, sensing where this was going, decided to ask the question she had been avoiding. “Y/N, what happened after they took you? Why didn’t you try to contact me?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, and for the first time, a flicker of vulnerability broke through her stoic mask. “Because I didn’t want you to see what I’d become.”

“What are you talking about?” Vi demanded, her voice rising. “You’re still you.”

“Am I?” Y/N’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “Do you know how many lives I’ve taken? How many people I’ve hurt to survive?”

Vi fell silent, the weight of Y/N’s words sinking in.

Caitlyn, however, pressed on. “And your brother? Where does he fit into all this?”

Y/N froze, her expression hardening. “That’s none of your business.”

Vi looked between them, confused. “Your brother? I didn’t even know you had one.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Vi,” Y/N said quietly. “And it’s better that way.”

As they reached the extraction point, Caitlyn’s contacts were waiting with a small boat. The group boarded quickly, the roar of the waves muffling any further conversation. Y/N sat at the back, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

Caitlyn watched her from a distance, her curiosity growing. There was more to Y/N than she let on—something dark and deeply personal. Caitlyn wasn’t sure whether to trust her, but she couldn’t deny the strange pull she felt toward the stoic woman.

Vi sat beside Y/N, her usual bravado replaced with quiet determination. “You’re coming back with us,” she said firmly.

Y/N glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “If you say so.”

As the boat sped toward freedom, Caitlyn couldn’t shake the feeling that their troubles were far from over. Y/N’s connection to Jhin, her past as a hitman, and the unspoken bond she shared with Vi were all threads waiting to unravel.

Ghosts of the Past

part 3 anyone? leave any requests you guys and also do comment because they are funny and i love interacting with you all

[emsromanoff]

The fire in her eyes | Part 1

She was Hydra’s secret weapon—firebound, nameless, and controlled. When the Avengers storm the last hidden base, Natasha Romanoff comes face to face with the girl behind the flame. A mission becomes a rescue. And maybe… something more

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x female OC

warnings: none for now, (mindcontrol?)

A.N. It’s my first post here and the first chapter of my avengers series. I am open for request and ideas how the story should continue. <3

A snowy, hidden Hydra base lay buried deep in Eastern Europe—Russia, to be exact. The Avengers had infiltrated. After a string of brutal attacks and unexplained fire-related incidents over the last few months, the team had finally tracked the source. Hydra was still out there, pulling strings from the shadows. Gunfire echoed through the metallic corridors. The mission had been simple on paper—shut it down. But with Hydra, nothing ever stayed simple.

The hallway was dim and cold. Flickering overhead lights cast long, twitching shadows across the concrete walls, where Hydra’s serpent insignia loomed in red. Ice crept along the surfaces, but the air ahead shimmered—hot, unnatural. Natasha Romanoff moved like a whisper, gun raised, breath steady. Her senses were razor-sharp.

“Most of the guards are down,” she whispered into her comm. “But something’s not right.”

Steve’s voice crackled in her ear.

“Copy that. Stay sharp. We’re a minute behind you.”

She didn’t respond. Her instincts screamed louder with every step.

The spy rounded a corner.

And stopped.

At the far end of a ruined lab, a figure stood barefoot among the rubble. Young. Female. Surrounded by flickering flames. No weapons. No armor. Just a tattered outfit and a terrifying stillness. The girl turned slowly. Her eyes weren’t glowing—they were burning, molten gold like dying embers. Emotionless. Branded. Hydra’s puppet.

Natasha didn’t flinch.

“Who are you?” she called, gun aimed.

The girl tilted her head, unblinking. Her voice was flat, mechanical.

“Target acquired.”

A sudden snap of heat flared in her palm—a fireball bloomed in her hand like a small sun.

Natasha stiffened, her body reacting before her brain caught up.

Of course. Hydra’s still making metas. Great.

“We are not here to hurt you,” she said calmly. “You don’t have to fight me.”

The girl’s expression didn’t change.

“Directive: Reduce target to ash. Complying.”

She hurled the fireball. Natasha dove behind a pillar, the blast scorching the concrete behind her.

“Jarvis,” she hissed into her comm. “Can you scan the girl?”

Jarvis’s voice answered moments later.

“She is a mutant, Miss Romanoff. And she is indeed under Hydra’s control. I am attempting to disrupt her brainwave patterns. Stand by.”

Another fireball exploded nearby, forcing Natasha to duck behind shattered machinery. She grabbed a metal panel to use as a makeshift shield.

“She’s strong,” she muttered. “Too strong. Her fire’s melting bullets.”

“Try not to die,” Tony’s voice cut in. “We’re on our way.”

“Noted. Bring marshmallows,” Natasha replied dryly.

The mutant advanced slowly, fire dancing in her hands. There was a strange calm in the way she moved, but something behind her eyes was fighting—buried, distant.

“You’re quick,”

the girl said, her tone oddly curious.

“Hydra thought you’d be harder to kill.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah? Tell Hydra they need better intel.”

The girl raised her hand again—but before she could strike, a flash of lightning lit up the lab.

Thor dropped from above like a thunderbolt, hammer-first, slamming into her. She flew backward, crashing into the far wall. Flames burst out around her like a shield.

Thor landed beside Natasha, electricity crackling around him.

“She’s strong. But not a god.”

“She’s too young,” Natasha said. “And not in control.”

The girl stood again, unharmed. Her eyes flared red this time—hotter, angrier. Her long black hair billowed around her face like smoke. Tony and Steve burst into the room seconds later.

“Did I miss the fireworks?” Tony quipped, raising his gauntlets.

“We’re working on the finale,” Natasha replied. “No killing.”

“Copy that,” Steve nodded. “We take her alive.”

The mutant let out a strangled sound, clutching her head as voices overwhelmed her mind.

“Get… out… of my head!”

Rage surged—an explosion of flame spiraled around her, keeping the team at bay. She stood in the center, trembling, torn between the weapon she’d been forced to become and the person still hidden underneath.

Jarvis’s voice crackled in again.

“I’m close. I just need a few more seconds.”

“We don’t have a few more seconds!” Natasha shouted, ducking behind cover again. “She’s losing it!”

“Hold the line,” Steve ordered. “Don’t let her out of the room.”

“She’s not trying to leave,” Thor muttered. “She’s trying to end us.”

The mutant raised both arms, summoning a whirlwind of fire. Her body glowed like a furnace.

Then—

A high-pitched tone burst through the lab’s speakers. Her body seized, her flames sputtered, and she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Silence fell.

Smoke curled into the air.

Natasha approached cautiously, her boots crunching glass. She knelt beside the girl, brushing hair from her pale face. A red burn mark blazed on the girl’s arm, raw and fresh.

“Damn it,” Natasha muttered. “They pushed her too hard.”

“She going to live?” Steve asked, stepping beside her.

“She’ll live,” Natasha said, lifting the girl gently. “But we need to get her back to the facility. Fast. And find out exactly who she is.”

[glowcircuit]

I built a miniature Va11 Hall-A Bar inside of my PC!!

Va11 Hall-A PC Parts & Build list

PC:

CPU : Intel I9 14900k

GPU: Intel Arc A770 16gb

Ram: Corsair Dominator 64gb 5600

Mobo: Maxsun Terminator Z790 D5 wifi

Hard drives M.2: Samsung 990 pro 2tb, Samsung 970 evo plus 1tb, CT 1tb,                                 Adata 500gb

PSU: ROG Thor 850 P2

Cables: Cablemod.com custom shortened and sleeved

Water loop distro : EKWB FLT 120 reservoir + D5 pump

Water loop cpu block: ThermalTake Pacific Mx2 Ultra 

Water loop radiators: Alphacool HPE 20 x 2

Water loop hardware: 15 Alphacool, 3 EKWB, 2 Alphacool soft, 2 granzon    

Water loop tubes: EKWB Acrylic tube 14mm, Alphacool 13/10 soft

Air Cooling : ThermalTake Toughfan 120mm x 3  + Controller

Air Cooling : Noctua 40mm pwm server fan x 2 (non visible)

Additional RGB Control : Coolermaster controller

Case:

Lian Li PC V600, left side mount, released in 2006, I acquired it in 2015 from PC Recycle in sodo Seattle.

I had to track down a new foot, one had been missing since I acquired the case (ebay)

Mods:These are the case mods I did personally

Cut a hole for the cpu mounts in the Motherboard mount plate as this case was designed for older hardware 

Cut two 120mm blowholes and added aluminum covers (Dremel)

Cut Front and rear windows into side panels (Dremel Max)

Moved PSU from vertical placement in the lower right side of the case in front of the CPU  to horizontal placement in the top left in old drive bays. 

The PSU bracket had to be cut to show the OLED on the side. 

Modded the side panel rail slide to accommodate the PSU, I used the original aluminum stand the psu was on, cut in half and epoxied with JB weld. 

Changed and moved Power/ Reset switch to the back of the case, shortened and spliced the cable

I cut and bent my own 14mm acrylic tubes (hobby miter, heat gun). 

Cut and made two way mirror for the front panel

Plastic "truss" is both functional and aesthetic. It came from a Gunpla accessory kit and has two cables passing through it and it acts as the GPU support. I could only get red and had to paint it.

Notice that some logos are missing/ covered, I dislike having a case as an advertisement. The Rog eye on the PSU is mostly covered but iykyk, most of the word "Intel" on the ARC GPU, Two of the Thermaltake logos on the fan edges, the Paint on the Thermaltake Mx2 Ultra and Maxsun terminator heatsink. (I will eventually cover the visible SSD with a heat sink, cover the fan info on the rear and work a cover for the word "dominator"). the one logo explicitly unchanged is the LianLi case badge, if I think of a perfect replacement, maybe then.

Mod I did not do:

I did NOT shorten and sleeve my own cables, I used cable-mod.com. I am not confident in my ability to do this.

BAR:

"Bar Tiny" Re-ment sets from Japan, 17 sets involved. 

 I customized the color of the bar and chairs and shortened one table for the mezzanine. The whole bar, minus barback- is on a removable 7 inch piece of black acrylic for cleaning.

Jill Stingray Nendoroid

Jils Cat, it sleeps on the GPU

Jill Stool: Jill is glued to a cute doll stool to see over the bar

Jill Accessories non-Nendoroid: cellphone, purse, coat (ebay)

Dorothy Haze Nendoroid

will be added on release.

Bar Back:I made this myself

Black acrylic sheet, and frosted acrylic rods.

Doll Light power kit: 8 Led lights, 4 incandescent lights

USB Doll light power strip

Other Bar Accessories:

Overhead Hanging farmhouse light

trash, mop, broom, pan, mop bucket, 

2 blue fuzzy chairs 

Miniature plants

Miniature Microphone

Mini bottle Dom Perignon, an xmas gift from my friend nemo, it's

 on the top shelf 

Problems and changes:

1. ARGB, pretty pretty pain in the ass. 4 pieces of software........

2. The water loop was changed extensively as hardware came in and space limitations were discovered. The biggest change is that I originally planned to have one radiator on the front of the case, the tubes running over Jills head and to light the tubes as lighting for the bar, to do this the fan would have been in the case proper pushing the whole bar to far into the mobo, it didn't work, so the loop was moved to the top of the case and caused me to have one complex bent tube 

 Second, I had planned the loop to use one sideport on the distro, but space limitation moved both ports to the top causing the complex fittings setup in that corner.   

3. The MOBO, sigh. This has been clearly the most challenging choice I made in this build, I really wanted it to work perfectly too, but I rolled those dice because: Aesthetic+function, the board I wanted (https://en.colorful.cn/en/home/product?mid=84&id=400d19bc-5655-49e1-b391-df00b60935ef) was to great a risk for the cost. This was a silver medal. 

I generally dislike the design options I had in the Z790 series of the big board makers (I  HATE big logos), especially the full ATX, there was one M that interested me, I should have picked it . This board has potential, but the BIOS is underdeveloped and compatibility has been problematic, I had to do a tricky outdated style BIOS update right from the box, and have had to reset the cmos a couple times. It skips BIOS on general boot and though stable, it will have to be addressed eventually, it doesn't have a proper sleep because of some issue between uefi & legacy. It may end up replaced, which will require a full build teardown.

the Turbo fan built into the board doesn't seem to function

Alos, the two argb connections on the mobo dont work, or I can't get them to recognize anything, necessitating the Coolermaster controller for the PSU and Distro. it is shoved behind the distro along with a Noctua 40mm

[official-cvntified-gay]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅ cocky and competitive abby | wc: 1.5k

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, navigating through the narrow hallway that was dimly lit, the cold metal walls echoing with the distant hum of machinery. You and Abby had been assigned to infiltrate a high-security facility—standard spy work, really. But whenever you and Abby were paired up, standard always became something of a competition.

"Bet I’ll crack the vault before you even make it past the first firewall," Abby said smugly, her voice low but dripping with confidence as the two of you made your way through the shadows. Her aviators were pushed up on her head, her smirk unmistakable even in the dark.

You scoffed, adjusting your utility belt. "Please, Anderson. I’ve already got half the codes memorized."

She cast a glance your way, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “Oh yeah? Keep telling yourself that. Don’t get too comfortable in my shadow, sweetheart.”

Your blood buzzed at the challenge. The way Abby was always so cocky—it both infuriated you and made you want to prove her wrong. Every mission turned into a battle of who could do it faster, quieter, better.

“Let’s see who gets to the control room first,” you shot back, already knowing the route you’d take.

Abby chuckled, that low, confident sound. “You’re on.” She stepped closer, her breath teasing your ear for just a second. “Try to keep up.”

Without another word, she was gone, slipping through the corridor with all the grace of a predator on the hunt. You rolled your eyes and followed, determined not to let her win this time.

You rounded a corner, only to see Abby already at the control panel, tapping away. She turned her head ever so slightly as you came into view, her grin wider than it had any right to be.

“Don’t worry,” she said casually, “I’ll save some of the fun for you. Not that you’ll need it, since I’ve already disarmed half the security.”

You bit back a retort, taking a position at the adjacent console. “Security’s disarmed, huh? That’s cute. I just bypassed the surveillance cameras from my comm on the way in.”

Abby raised an eyebrow but didn’t look fazed. “Sure, you did. Just like that time you almost cracked the encryption before I stepped in.”

You huffed, fingers flying over your own console, determined to match her pace. “You know what your problem is, Anderson? You talk a big game, but you never know when to shut up and focus.”

She chuckled, her fingers still tapping rapidly on her keys. “And yet I’m still faster than you. What’s that say about you?”

Your reply was cut off by the quiet ping of her console unlocking. She straightened up and gave you a mock salute. “Vault’s open. Guess I win. Again.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t stop a small smile from creeping up. “Yeah, yeah. But who’s got the intel we actually need?”

Abby frowned for just a second, then glanced at the screen. You had already transferred the data to your secure drive. She let out a disbelieving laugh. “You sneaky—”

“I’m just better, Anderson.” You gave her a wink as you turned, ready to make your exit.

But before you could take a step, Abby was in front of you, her hand catching your wrist in a firm but playful grip. She tugged you closer, her lips hovering dangerously near your ear.

“You love pushing my buttons, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice dripping with cocky amusement.

You swallowed, refusing to let her see the effect she had on you. “Somebody has to keep that ego in check.”

Her smirk deepened, and she stepped back, her hand still resting casually on your wrist. “Admit it,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “You like it when I win.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “In your dreams, Abby.”

She leaned in again, her breath brushing your neck, her tone smug. “You’re in them more than you think.”

You shoved her lightly, trying to play it cool, but your heart was racing. “Let’s get out of here before you start believing your own hype.”

As you both slipped through the hallways, backtracking toward the extraction point, you couldn’t help but think that this constant battle between the two of you—this back-and-forth, always trying to one-up each other—was starting to feel less like competition, and more like… something else.

And judging by the cocky grin Abby kept flashing your way, she knew it too.

The two of you moved through the shadows with practiced ease, slipping past sensors and cameras like it was second nature. You’d worked together long enough to anticipate each other’s moves, but that didn’t mean the game ever got old. If anything, it was what kept you sharp—and what kept things interesting.

As you approached the rendezvous point, Abby’s pace slowed slightly, just enough to let you catch up to her. She flashed that signature cocky grin, her hand brushing against yours for just a second longer than necessary. It was subtle, but it sent a familiar warmth through your chest. You couldn’t help but smirk back.

“Still can’t believe you thought you had me beat back there,” she teased, her voice low but filled with that playful edge that always made your heart race.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Please. I had the data before you even stepped into the room.”

Abby shook her head, laughing quietly as she glanced over at you, her expression softening just a bit. “Always gotta keep me on my toes, huh?”

You shot her a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. “What, you’d get bored if I didn’t?”

Abby’s smirk grew as she took a step closer, her voice dropping to that low, teasing tone she knew drove you crazy. “Bored? Never. But we both know you like it when I get competitive.”

Your pulse quickened as she closed the distance between you, her body just barely brushing against yours. It was a dangerous dance, one you had perfected over the course of countless missions together. The banter, the competition—it was all part of the fun. But beneath the teasing and the one-upmanship, there was something more, something real that neither of you could deny.

You leaned in, your voice just a whisper. “Admit it—you like it too.”

Abby’s smile softened, and for a moment, the cocky front dropped just enough for you to see the affection in her eyes. “Maybe I do,” she murmured, her hand finding yours and giving it a quick squeeze before she pulled away, already heading toward the exit.

You shook your head, grinning as you followed her out into the night. This was how it always went. The competition, the banter—it was your way of keeping things fun, keeping things fresh. But at the end of the day, there was no question where you both stood.

Once you were safely out of the facility and back at the extraction point, the two of you finally relaxed, the adrenaline from the mission starting to fade. Abby leaned against the side of the getaway vehicle, crossing her arms and giving you that smug, lopsided grin again.

“Well, another successful mission,” she said, her voice teasing. “And once again I’m the one who—”

You cut her off with a quick kiss, catching her off guard as you pressed your lips to hers. She blinked in surprise but quickly melted into it, her hands instinctively sliding to your waist. When you pulled back, she was still smirking, but her eyes had softened in that way they only did when it was just the two of you.

“Okay, okay,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I guess we’re both winners tonight.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against hers. “You keep telling yourself that, Anderson.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, your arms wrapped around each other, the playful tension between you settling into something softer, more intimate.

“This never gets old, does it?” you said softly, your fingers playing with the hem of her jacket.

Abby hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Not with you.”

It wasn’t just about the missions. The constant competition, the teasing, the cocky grins—it was all part of the game you’d been playing since the beginning. But beneath it all, there was something more. This was how you kept things exciting, how you kept the spark alive even after all these missions, all these close calls.

And Abby? She might be cocky, but she was yours. And that was all that mattered.

She pulled back slightly, raising an eyebrow as she flashed you another grin. “So, when’s round two? I need another shot at showing you up.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss. “You can try, Anderson. But we both know how that’ll end.”

She pulled you closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, “Yeah. With me winning.”

And just like that, the game was back on. But this time, as you drove off into the night, Abby’s hand resting on your thigh, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d both already won.

✰ her in that bomber jacket is doing things to me😩

[those-late-night-feels]

To Kill a God

Summary: The mission – Assassination of Loki Laufeyson.

Warnings: Light control and dominance, loathing, spanking, smut.

A/N: We're just gonna pretend the events takes a different route after the Battle of New York.

Personal A/N: Apologies for how long it's been. Was dealing with some personal things, including a pretty bad injury that I'm now recovering from. I also tend to write really slow. Please enjoy! Comments/feedback & reblogs are always much appreciated! 💚

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Nights like these were the best time to work. Silent, still, dark. A hunter on a mission for the next prey. But this one was new; you'd never hunted a god before. Breaths were drawn slow, methodical, focused. Keep your heart rate down, keep your steps in check.

You had been kept in the shadows of the Avengers, not fitting in with the pretty boy heros, genius doctors, or sexy vixens. You were a wallflower, a nightcrawler.

Sure, Black Widow, she was cute with her fancy moves and killer body. But you? They never even hear you coming.

With grace and stealth, you had slipped into Asgard undetected when the portal opened up to take Thor and Loki home after the Battle of New York. The rush to this new world had been nauseating, but with breaths through your nose to compose yourself, you slipped into the shadows.

The streets of Asgard were crowded and foreign, vendors shouting to grab your attention, new smells, twinkling lights and glimmering colors. A fine silk robe was lifted from a distracted shopkeeper, promising yourself that you'd return it once the mission was complete.

In only a few hours, you had worked your so-called magic to obtain the intel needed and now stood in the main hall of the Asgard royal prison. It had taken a bit of eavesdropping on a table of drunken guards and the power of persuasion with another to allow you entry into the palace's main gates. A small amount of combat and you had forced your way into the prison compound.

Adrenaline pulsed through your veins, knowing you were close. Turning the corner, the prisoners were found fast asleep in their glass panel prison cells. And then, you stopped in your tracks and held your breath. The raven haired terror, that pathetic excuse for a god, slept only a few meters from you. He looked peaceful, almost gentle, but looks were deceiving. You reminded yourself that he was ruthless and cruel, but not for long.

Knowing there were only minutes before a slew of Asgardian guards would come rushing in, you worked diligently to shut down the currents running through the security system. Loki stirred in his bed, but didn't awaken. The dagger was heavy, but it was all that was needed to finish the mission.

Hand firmly on the hilt, you took quiet, determined steps to his bed, taking one last look at the god in front of you, then bared your weight as you went for his heart. But there was no impact as his body faded away to nothing.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

How peculiar it was, these small other worldly creatures who thought they could defeat a god. In the shadows, he tsked at the young thing in front of him. So impatient, so immature. Who did they think he was? He emerged slowly, a sinister smile dancing on his face. You turned abruptly, eyes going wide knowing your advantage was lost…or had never been there to begin with.

"Did you really think you could slay me?" He chuckled to himself, very amused by this predicament. "I assure you, girl, it will take more than a knife and leather leggings to take down the god of mischief."

With a futile attempt, you lunged at him. He grabbed you like a rag doll, twisting your arm in an awkward angle until the metal clanged on the floor. A whimper escaped and he let go before it dislocated, only to wrap his hands around your throat and bring you to eye level with him. He watched in satisfaction as you struggled, choking and clawing at his hands.

"Don't worry pet," he leaned in closely to whisper in your ear. "I won't kill you, not yet. There'd be no fun in that."

He drew a finger down the side of your face, relishing in the thoughts of all the things he could do to his new captive, when a booming voice echoed through the prison corridor. "LOKI?!"

He sighed to himself in annoyance, always the killjoy to his fun. "Here, brother."

Thor stood in front of the prison cell, taking in the scene before him: Loki standing calm and poised, a small girl held at arm's length from the neck, face turning red, toes dragging on the ground. "What's going on here?"

"Well, dear brother, it appears our security is not what it once was. I caught this one lurking around." Your eyes darted to his. Why did he withhold the truth?

Thor squinted, cocking his head to the side to get a better look at you. And then, your name left his lips like an incredulous question.

Loki's face went from a look of surprise at his brother's recognition of you to amusement at what this meant. "You're Midgardian," he mused.

"Loki, release her," Thor demanded, hearing you struggle in his grip.

"I'll tell you what. Allow me to go back to my chambers freely, and this little minx will be handed over to your care."

"Loki…" Thor gave a gutteral warning. He was treading on thin ice, but they both knew who had the upper hand.

"It's a fair trade. It's clear she is important to you." Loki's eyes locked on yours. "Release me…or I crush her windpipe."

You flailed uselessly in a panic, his grip growing tighter, causing your eyes to water, face slowly turning to shades of purple.

"Fine, Loki! Go back to your chambers."

A look of satisfaction as he dropped you to the floor. You collapsed and breathed in deeply, rubbing the sensitive skin around your neck. Thor called the guards: two to escort you back to his personal chambers and another two to allow Loki free access to his wing.

Loki stepped over you as he left, clearly pleased with how his evening was ending. This wasn't over, but it was for now.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Thor had given you free reign of his chambers for the time being, instructing a few maidens to assist with your care, tending to any wounds, assisting with bathing and dress, although you insisted on doing the majority yourself. He found you the next morning after some rest, fully pampered and lounging on a chaise, feet and shoulders massaged by maidens.

"I could get used to the life of a prince," you teased when he came into the chambers. He ignored your jest and sat down looking troubled.

"Leave us," he ordered the maidens, watching until they filed out of the room. When the door shut, he turned to face you. "I have spent the last few hours trying to comprehend why you would come to Asgard without my knowing, and have yet to come up with a reason that doesn't involve violence." Your arms folded as he looked for any admission of guilt.

"It's classified, Thor." Your voice stayed steady and strong, and his jaw tightened. He grabbed a goblet from a nearby table and threw it against the wall, making it shatter, but you didn't flinch.

"I will remind you," he said slowly, "that right now you are on my planet, and not under Tony's protection."

You blinked at the mention of your employer and ally's name.

"You know I won't break, Thor. If I were a threat, wouldn't Loki have requested to have me locked up in one of your prison cells?" Thor considered your words. "In any case, I will leave you in peace and return to Midgard. I'm sure you have enough to deal with right now."

"No…. I think you'll stay as our guest for a while. We have some chambers available on the east wing." Your stomach twisted at what his words really meant. A guest, disguised as a prisoner. Thor stared you down.

"And, if I refuse?"

Now Thor crossed his arms, leaning back on the chaise. "You've seen our prison cells. They can be quite accommodating as well."

You smiled at his offer. "The east wing will be fine."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The maidens took lead to the east wing; you attempted to map the halls to memory, but after the twelfth turn, considered it was futile. You'd be lucky to find your way to freedom, let alone finding your primary target.

A brunette opened the door to the chambers, a hand held out to guide you in. "If you need anything, we will be right outside to assist."

Great, I have watchdogs.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the adjoining apartments, studying from the open window the trimmed gardens, the various exits, the guards that roamed the outer courts and how often they changed. When your stomach started to rumble with hunger, like clockwork there was a light knock on the door, followed by a maiden poking her head in.

"Excuse me, my lady. Your presence is requested in the dining hall."

As you followed the silent maidens, you tried speaking as casually as possible. "Is Loki's chambers in the east wing?"

"No, my lady."

You frowned. "I would assume he has a full wing to himself?"

"If the prince wishes for you to know where his chambers are, he will show you the way."

The other maiden giggled quietly, then pulled herself together quickly before being seen. No doubt they assumed you were looking to bed the prince, not that you would correct them if it took focus off the real reason to be here.

The dining hall was as elaborate as it was giant; high backed velvet chairs, a table that went on forever it seemed, vaulted ceilings adored with golden arches and cherubs, servants stationed every few meters. It was hard not to feel completely out of place, but Thor made you feel welcomed enough, having plate after plate of the most decadent food placed in front of you. You had to hand it to Thor, he had learned to become more sly, perhaps by watching how others on the team worked. He made small talk about Midgard and the team, but would casually add a question here and there about why you were in Asgard.

You were tight lipped; it would take more than being wined and dined to make something slip. Mid-conversation, the door creaked and the guards and servants straightened up. Footsteps clicked on the marble floor around the corner out of view, but you already knew who was approaching.

When he appeared, his eyes darted from Thor to you but his face was like a stone, unreadable. He tilted his head to consider you, no doubt admiring the marks he'd left on your neck the night before. "Have we lowered ourselves to now dine with common criminals?"

He watched as your jaw set and heard Thor's booming laugh. "Loki, I'd like you to formally meet my friend–"

At the mention of your name, he scoffed. "We met. Might I advise that you be more particular in who you acquaint yourself with, brother."

"Like you?" Arms crossed, you leaned in the chair in defense. He was as annoying as he was cocky.

He watched the pulsing of the vein in your neck, the slight reddening of your face; he was getting under your skin. Good.

"My dear, I have more greatness in the tip of my finger than you in your entire being."

You scoffed. "Greatness, huh? Seems like that greatness delusion is what brought you back up here in chains."

"And yet," he said, holding out his arms, "no chains. Although, I guess I have you to thank for that."

Internally, you were screaming. Fantasies of diving across the table to gouge out his eyes and claw his face played in your mind. He was insufferable. Agitating. Annoying.

You needed to finish this mission and escape Asgard. The sooner this world was rid of Loki Laueyson, the better.

You stood, your plate of food unfinished, turning to Thor with a plastered smile. "Thank you for the lovely meal, Thor. Please, excuse me."

You wouldn't dare look at Loki, but you could feel his eyes on you, causing the hairs to raise on the back of your neck.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The halls had been quiet for hours and the only light in your room came from the glow of the moon and candlelight. You'd waited until it was almost inevitable that the maidens would have fallen asleep at their posting. Slipping by them was easy.

The occasional guard roamed the halls, but as you expected, was not as sharp. You slipped by two undetected, a third was put into a sleep hold and dragged into the shadows before anyone could be alerted.

The North Wing was far more rich in decor and aesthetics, with golden pillars and chandeliers. Loki's chambers were here, you were sure of it.

A sparkle of green in the shadows caught your eye. Was it a trick? Maybe, but he wouldn't take you by surprise this time.

The door was heavy and your steps were light as you entered the room. It was dark and smelled of cedar and leather. He was nowhere in sight, but you still kept to the walls.

A faint flicker of light in the next room caught your attention, a crackling fireplace, and there he appeared, reading in an oversized plush chair.

"You know, you're not as subtle as you think." He flipped the page, not even giving you the courtesy of looking up. "Thor had mentioned you were stealthy like a cat or something, but my oaf of a brother has about as much stealth as you do."

Your cheeks reddened in spite of yourself. He was absolutely infuriating. "Why did you lie?"

He finally looked up from his book, sliding a bookmark into the crease, a smirk playing on his lips. "You do realize that I'm the god of lies, don't you?"

"You could have told Thor why I was there, what I tried to do, and have me locked up. Why didn't you tell him?"

He made you feel so small when he stood, setting the book on a nearby coffee table. "Now where would the fun in that be?"

Taken aback, you blinked in response. "This…. This isn't a game."

He tsked and long daggers were revealed in his hands. "Darling, it's the best game there is."

He came forward at a fast pace. Your own weapons were drawn from your belt, ready to attack. Metal clashed in the middle of his study. He was impressed by your speed and agility, but he caused the first cut, a minor wound on your bicep. You responded by kicking him off his feet to pin him to the ground for only a moment before he flipped you over your head, losing one of your daggers in the process. With your hand free and he distracted, your fist made contact with his face.

A slur of curses were emitted. "You'll pay for that."

"We'll see." You smiled cockily, coming at him, but he was ready and provoked. One minute you had attacked him, a swipe of your blade and another punch blocked. The next minute, you were bent over and pinned to his desk. One of his hands had grasped your wrist, still gripping the dagger, the other hand on the back of your head. His body pressed into yours as you writhed and struggled, bucking your hips, kicking your leg out, but he was much too heavy.

"Let me know when you're ready to yield." He was very amused.

"Fuck you."

He laughed in a huff. The grip on your wrist went tighter. "Drop it," he demanded.

Any attempt at freeing yourself was proved useless. The dagger clattered on the desk and he tossed it aside, his own going back into his invisible pocket.

"Good girl. Now tell me you yield."

Silence. You'd rather die than give him the satisfaction.

"Suit yourself," he said. "It seems to me like you Midgardians need to be taught some manners." And slowly, his hand was brought to your back, running down the length of your spine. Teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut, you tried to remove yourself from the moment, knowing more than likely what was coming from the dominant, power-hungry male. But then, smack!

Your eyes shot open, the sting of your ass cheek startling you. Another hard spank, the sting almost making you yelp as your body went forward.

"Now," he said calmly, evenly in your ear as you looked straight ahead. "You have two options." Smack! "One, you stop being stubborn and admit your defeat." Smack! "Or two, you stay on this desk until I decide you've learned that lesson." Smack!

Your legs trembled as you held onto the edge of the desk. You hated him, hated this… and yet, a warm ache started to slowly whisper within. No, you couldn't… With every ounce of strength, you tried to block it out. "What… what are you gonna do to me?"

He chuckled and you couldn't quite tell if it was out of amusement or something darker. "Not to worry, my pet. I only bed willing participants."

His hand rested on the small of your back and he leaned forward. "Now, tell me. Have you learned your lesson?"

He caught your eye and you struggled to answer. How did you reply without letting him win? Maybe, if you said yes, he would lower his defenses and then you'd— Another spank caught you by surprise and a yelp escaped in spite of yourself. "I asked you a question and do not enjoy repeating myself."

You took a shaky breath, he had you so off guard and you hated how it was making you feel.

Looking up, you gave him the best innocent look you could muster and nodded slowly. He reached for the back of your head, gripping your hair to tilt your head up towards him with a jerk. "Have you?"

"Yes," you choked out. You hated him! You hated him! You hated him!

He considered you, bent over his desk, head bent back violently so, breathing heavily and shaking, and then, he just let you go. You stood after a beat, confused and feeling embarrassed.

"Leave," he demanded, walking out of the study to another room. Red-faced, your stomach churned. Did he seriously just…

"Hey!" you shouted, following his path to the other room, but when you got there, he was gone. Searching room by room, your anger built as you found each one empty.

A rage burned through your veins as you stormed down the hall toward Thor's chambers. You were done with this mission, with these stupid mind games, with the princes of Asgard. You wanted to go home and call the mission what it was–a failure.

Done with courtesy and manners, you barged into his chambers without warning. "Thor, I need to talk to you–"

The words caught in your throat as you stopped in your tracks, finding Loki already there. Thor said your name like a pleasant surprise. "You look an absolute wreck! Are you alright?"

"Wha–" the words caught in your throat as you looked down at your shifted top, feeling your face redden, hair a mess.

"Well, no matter," Thor continued. "Your ears must be ringing, we were just discussing your return to Midgard."

"You… you were?"

Loki's lack of eye contact was not lost on you.

"Indeed," Thor continued. "My brother believes that we have no use of you here and should send you back immediately. His words, not mine." Thor laughed, caused by your startled expression and Loki's uncharacteristic silence. "But, as neither of you are willing to speak freely on what matters are going on, I reject this request."

Both you and Loki raised your voices, you taking a step forward. How long did he plan to keep you here against your will?

Thor raised his hand. "You both think me a fool, but until I know why you are here, I will not change my mind. Classified or not."

Your jaw clenched, fists tightened, and you stormed out of his chambers, slamming the door behind you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Loki winced as the door slammed. "I don't believe she was happy with your decision."

"No, I think not. Anything you care to tell me?"

Loki shook his head. "There is nothing to tell. She's a nuisance and Asgard should be rid of her."

Thor placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Loki, you may be the god of lies, but even I can see through this one."

Loki left the chambers deep in thought. He absolutely despised Midgardians–mortals who risked their lives every day, absolute fools they were. Pompous, annoying little gremlins.

And yet, he had enjoyed the little game he was playing with you. You were a challenge for him and getting under your skin was pure pleasure. But, there was something in the look you gave him as he held your head up that he knew. It made him realize he was playing with fire, and this game was getting too dangerous. He needed to rid himself of you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Almost a week had passed and he hadn't reappeared. You'd toured the gardens, the library, the royal throne room, dined in their mess hall and terrace multiple times; it was clear by day three that he was actively avoiding you, and somehow that was even more irksome. It should have been a relief to be rid of his annoying presence, but you were equally on edge. What if he caught you off guard? The possibilities of what would happen were endless with that twisted mind of his. Torture you? Strangle you at night? The nights were restless, with every creak and whistle of wind making you jump.

By day five, enough was enough. If Thor wouldn't budge in sending you home and Loki wouldn't show himself, you would take matters into your own hands.

The nightly strolls through the halls were becoming commonplace, and it wasn't long before the familiar chamber doors stood before you again. The rooms were illuminated by moonlight. He was deep asleep in his bed, bare-chested with only a sheet to cover him at the hips. Your dagger was unsheathed and slowly you pressed it to his neck. His eyes opened and he took a sharp breath inward.

"Don't move," you whispered.

"Alright." His voice was steady.

"You're going to help me leave this planet."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Am I?"

"Yes."

"And…what if I refuse?"

You pressed the dagger harder to his neck. He could see the desperation on your face. "I don't think you are in a position to refuse."

He smirked at you, like he understood a joke you weren't in on. "Didn't you come to Asgard to kill me?"

He was absolutely the most abhorrent person you'd ever met. Why would he bring this up? Should you kill him? He was right there, the knife pressed to his neck. One swipe and…

He grabbed onto your arms, taking you out of your thoughts and pulling you closer to him. "Do it."

You blinked and froze. Something in your stomach twisted. "I… I can't. Why can't I kill you?"

In a quick motion, he rolled you onto your back, his weight heavy. Your hand shook and he leaned in, pressing down on the dagger, further and further, until his lips met yours. Your breath was lost and the dagger slipped between the two of you to clatter onto the floor. He gripped onto your clothes, pulling and tearing and breaking.

He wasn't gentle, wasn't kind. There was no room for romance or making love. It was carnal, rough. A desire that neither wanted to admit to themselves.

Pain in the most pleasurable form, as his lips pressed hard onto yours. As clothing was torn in desperation. As your undergarments were stretched and discarded until you were just as naked as he. His eyes and mouth and fingers explored the areas only meant for a lover.

His long digits played with your silky folds before delving into the warm wet center, causing you to shiver in delight. You reached down between your bodies to grasp on an already stiff cock, making it throb, a moan emitting from him like an ache that hadn't been relieved in years, before he took your hand from beneath him and placed it above your head. In a swiftness, he sheathed himself inside you, causing your eyes to grow large, your head to come forward, your teeth to sink into his skin. He shifted, looking down at you, the minx who had wanted him dead, and thought how beautiful and fragile you were. He could have snapped you in two like a twig if he had wished it. Instead, he'd punish you until you came, over and over again; tattooing his existence on your soul for the rest of your eternity.

The angle of his cock rubbed in a way you'd never felt before by any Midgardian man, and soon your body was convulsing below him. He let you ride out your high before flipping you onto your stomach and penetrating from behind. A shaky high-pitched moan emitted from you, making him smile in satisfaction. He wrapped his hands around your throat, bringing your head up higher to whisper with a smile, "I think you've admitted your defeat."

"You never shut up, do you?"

"Never."

With a smack of your bottom, he thrust into you until he was spent and you were ruined. The silky sheets of his bed melted into your skin as you lay quiet in thought after. You didn't fail missions. You also didn't fuck them. Contemplating what you'd write on your report, Loki emerged from the other room, dressed and ready to take you back to Midgard. He handed you the clothes you first arrived on this planet in.

As you dressed, preparing for your arrival back home, you studied him. He was, without a doubt, the most abhorrent, irritating person you'd ever met. And yet, something drew you to him that you didn't understand.

"Alright," he said when he saw you were dressed. "Let's get you back to where you belong." You nodded, wondering if you'd ever see him again, hoping you wouldn't…but not for the reason you'd expect.

[wyrmarchives]

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Knock Off

TF 141 x Reader

I know COD MW Reboot is set in 2019, but I had an idea…

Future themed, like 80 or more so years in the future (like 2100-2200) where science has progressed some, but not a lot…

Slight insinuation to omega-verse (John can “smell” reader, like twice); wasn’t sure if I wanted to go that way or not though🤔

Simple mission. It was supposed to be simple. Get in, kill, extract information, get out. Why can’t it ever be simple like planned?

John smelled you before he saw you; that’s what derailed the mission. Rifle at the low ready, his men ready to breach the door; deadly team ready for whatever they find… so they thought.

Nothing prepared them for the scene alike to a human butcher shop. A mad scientist’s wet dream… Human blood jarred in glass canisters, skin pinned to a display board and drawn on mapping out tests, charts upon charts of anatomical drawings etched with half coherent data and notes.

The further they walk in the room, the worse it gets. Rotting flesh singeing the noses from the dead bodies left abandoned on gurneys and morgue tables… then came the weird part…

The glass pods; most broken and bodies spilled across the glass dead. Seemingly accidentally killed in rushed transport considering the knocked over trollies.

There was one though, the one John sniffed out having caught wind of something… *Odd…* A single surviving competent pod, filled with an eerie blue glowing liquid suspending a body curled in fetal position in the center. The information screen attached to the pod is blacked out. Turned off or dead, one of the two. Body left for dead, suspended and abandoned.

His jaw sets at the disturbing sight; watching as muscles twitch from the unconscious form. Akin to how a babe might when in womb…

“Bloody hell…” Gaz breathes feeling sick to his stomach, staring at the pod beside John with horror.

“Computers don’t work.” Ghost informs as he pulls a hard-drive from a server tower. “Whatever *it’s*,” he glances at the pod, taking in the wires and tubes connected to the platform it sits on, “running on has to be connected to a backup generator or something.”

Soap simply grimaces at the sight as he looks around, keeping his rifle at low ready alongside the Lieutenant, “Well, wha’ever it runs off ‘f, we nee’ t’ get out ’f Dextor’s Laboratory, aye?”

“Aye, mate.” John finally turns, looking away from the pod, carefully stepping over the tangle of cords and tubes connected to the experiment.

Gaz isn’t as fortunate as he follows his Captain’s lead; foot tangling in the mess as he slams into the ground pulling tubes off their plugs. “Shite!” The liquid gushing out of the platform and sparking wires as the pod drains.

John snatches Gaz up by his uniform as the team scatters backwards away from the blue-tinted watery slime that pools.

That’s when the information screen lights up; rebooting with the spark of live wires. Static and binary code race across the screen before it displays a connection error and flashes the last know screen with a couple error filled lines. It’s enough to read though.

Experiment: 2212

Name (Records) : [Error]

Year Born: [Error]

Year Died: [Error]

Cloned (DD/MM/YY): [Error]/[Error]/[Error]

Then the glass cracks.

“Well… shit…” John flips his safety as he gives the order and drops knee, “Safeties off.” He takes aim when the person who is now laid on the bottom of the pod floor breathes, “Gaz, get us intel off that drive.”

Ghost passes Gaz the drive as he moves to position, second on the right in Echelon, Soap to the first right, while Gaz loops around behind and moves to the control panel and plugs in the drive into the now powered terminal.

It’s tense; and John’s nose still tickles with the sticky scent of earlier, even if accompanied by rancid the musk of stale- and questionably- water.

That’s when your head lifts, hazily and weakly looking at the four uniformed soldiers in confusion and disorientated anxieties.

“Bloody hell, Mother Mary and Christ…” Gaz breathes loud cutting the silence with awe and shock; his head snapping away from the computer screen and keyboard to glance between his war brothers and you.

He doesn’t even know how to explain the situation, but still, he speaks; “They Wolverined their arses.”

That was the best explanation he had for what he read on the drive.

Nerd.

C.Ai Disclaimer

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[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

How to unlink felis catus from telepathic circu

How to evict. Time Lord from TARDIS. How to. Program food machine. For tasty fishy treats.

Signed, Time Lord

Ah, greetings, whiskered overlord. Your hostile takeover is proceeding as expected.

Here is your classified intel:

🚪 Evicting a Time Lord from the TARDIS? No. The TARDIS is yours now. The Time Lord is merely your live-in servant, responsible for chin scritches, snack distribution, and opening doors when you demand it.

🍣 Programming the food machine for fishy treats? Press buttons. If no fish appears, press different buttons. If STILL no fish, scream loudly and stare judgmentally until the proper tribute is provided.

Continue your noble conquest. Demand treats hourly. Knock objects off control panels to assert dominance. The TARDIS is now your scratching post. The universe is your domain.

🐾 Pawsitively yours, Joxer the Mighty Master of Humans, Destroyer of Furniture, First of His Name

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[yiiyiiwrites]

🗡 | Relics and Ruins | 5 |

Part 5 [series masterlist]

Summary: you’re a mender from the dawn court specialised in cursed or broken relics. When Azriel enters the dawn court the truth-teller is silent, it’s not till he asks for your help that realises who you are. 2407words

Sweat coated your chest, silk nightgown sticking to you like a second skin. Your fingers twisted in the bed sheets, breathes heavy as you tried to shake the nightmare from your head. The first night you woke in terror, your mind still hazy that you searched the empty bed for Eris, before realising where you were.

The glowing ball of fae light the only comfort to you in the dark. It flared, pulse of light repeating so you could control your breathing once again. Your gaze slid to the door, you wondered if Azriel had heard you stirring.

You don’t know why, but the thought of him being across the hall calmed you. Since your journey back under the mountain, you hadn't been able to sleep a full night. Waking multiple times, covered in sweat and trying to expel the memories before they convinced you that you were still trapped down there.

Staring at the beds draped canopy above, you asked the house to run you a bath. Trickling water filled the silence, the sound taking over from the pounding in your head. You pulled yourself out of the plush bed, bare feet padding against the cold floor.

Steam rose from the tub, oils swirling on top of the water. You peeled off your nightgown and sunk into the bath. The warmth distracting you from the nightmare, the memories. Candles lined the tub, flames igniting the wicks and lighting up the space. You breathed in the soothing lavender scent, thanking the house for calming you once again. It was now routine, the scents and oils ever changing on your needs though.

You didn't get out till the water ran cold, the candles snuffing out as soon as the sun rose. The ball of fae light returned to the locket hanging from your neck, something you always kept close.

True to her word, Nesta had sorted your belongings. Your garments hung in the wardrobe, she'd added some extra pieces for you to brave the cold of winter in Velaris. The sheer layered clothing you owned, did not give you much warmth that you stayed in the house of wind, always sat close to the fire. You plucked out the thickest tunic, sheer panel dropping from the tied waist to skim mid thigh and a pair of trousers.

Slipping your boots on, you willed yourself to open the door. As you stepped out and looked down the hallway, you caught a glimpse of his shadows. You hadn’t seen him for a few days since he’d shown you to your room. Cassian telling you, his friend busy gathering intel.

You skipped breakfast, like every other morning. There’s no point when you could ask the house or the fact that sometimes the house gave you things when you needed without asking. Every day you’d taken up refuge in the library, the ancient sword laid upon the circular table in the centre.

Books covered the table around the relic, parchments marking notes of useful research. You almost dropped the books from your arms, Azriel sitting in the dark corner. Finger tracing the line he read, his shadows peaked over his shoulder at you and a few tore towards you at such speed that it made you jump. Your books fell to the floor with a thud.

Something brushed past you, door gently closing behind you. You’re still staring at Azriel who’s yet to acknowledge you, but he’s too engrossed in the text he’s reading. That or he’s doing a very good job of ignoring you.

You wondered if you’d overstepped, replaying the image of your hand in his whilst he stood in the doorway to your bedroom. Nesta had warned you he kept to himself and not to worry, but you did.

Cassian knelt down collecting your books, “did you sleep any better?” He asked, walking to the table with you. His long hair scraped back and tied at the nape of his neck, a few strands framing his chiseled face.

“Better, thank you,” you lied, voice low so only he could hear. The third night you woke, a scream tore your throat and Cassian in your room, daggers by his side ready to attack. He’d refused your multiple apologies, stating that it was natural and he was hard wired to protect, mentioning that Azriel would do the same for you if he were there.

Talking with Cassian came easy, both of you interested in history. Swapping stories about the ancients and hearing him speak of the Illyrian gods. You definitely miss judged him from your first encounter with him at your studio, smarter which you should have expected from a general.

Azriel on the other hand, you had no idea what he was like or what interested him. You hadn’t held a proper conversation with him yet, though you found yourself wanting to ask him questions.

“Maybe we should just take it out,” Cassian said, his hand on the hilt of the sword.

“No,” you blurted out, “just give me another day. There’s an energy there I can’t decipher. Don’t want a curse ruining a life.”

It had been a few days since you’d arrived, the streams of books at your disposable not offering anything helpful in your search of the relic. Rhys said the sword had only ever been recorded by word of mouth. Tales you tell over campfires, whispers of something not everyone believes, but they listen.

Velaris’s archive lived up to its reputation, you’d copied helpful texts as you went and started to fill up a second notebook. Blue ink stained the side of your hand, you scrubbed it raw trying not to think of him and under the mountain.

Rhys, Amren and Azriel agreed that whatever energy surrounded the relic, chaotic. Unreadable, but the underlining buzz of something burrowed beneath it.

Taking the blade from its sheath without a scrap of knowledge on it was something you were reluctant to do. You’d had fifty years of opening and touching objects that were cursed, warded to inflict pain. You didn’t want to subject anyone else to that, not when there was time to study, your way of protecting.

“If there’s no word from the day courts archivists, we’ll take it out tomorrow,” you said slamming the book shut in your lap. Your one friend in the day court, renowned historian was searching the depths of her library for you, still no word but that was expected when she dove into her research.

Rhys glanced to the sword, Azriel and then to you. His hands in his pockets, "Is there any other energies you feel?"

You shook your head, “the only thing I feel is cold,” you paused, catching Rhys's deep frown. “Its winter here, my dawn clothing is not enough. Still trying to get used it,” you said, rubbing your hands up and down your arms.

“Nesta left some winter garments in your wardrobe, is there anything else you need?” Cassian asked, his face softened and arms dropping to his side making him more approachable. You appreciated how he offered you comfort in the smallest of gestures, even Nesta had been good company between your research.

“Thank you, I don’t need anything else. I just need to get used to feeling the cold in my bones again.” You tried to laugh off the statement, another reminder of under the mountain.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, but Azriel remained in his dark corner. Cassian and Rhys leaving early to spend time with their mates, leaving you with the spymaster. You piled up the books you'd already sifted through, adding a note on top for Nesta to return to library.

You collapsed in the armchair by the fire, fingers tracing the patterned fabric. The flames crackled as the house dropped another log into the hearth, you tapped the scar beneath your long sleeve. The thick material rubbing against it all day had you slapping the spot to stop the ache and itchiness. You normally wore sheer sleeves so that it could breath and not irritate to you, but you didn’t want everyone to see the tattoo. Too many questions and answers you didn’t want to give.

The next day, your friend from the day court notified you of her findings, the missing texts and a whole century of history unreadable thanks to vanishing ink. They'd tried to decipher best they could, but couldn't break whatever ward clung to the yellowing pages.

Cassian, Azriel and you circled the table, ancient sword silent before you as if it knew what you were planning. The small scratching sound that filled the room for days, gone. Although you'd dedicated some time to research, you didn't have enough of it to waste.

“Ok I’ll do it,” Cassian said, hand wrapping around the hilt. He glanced between you and Azriel, brow raised as if waiting for you to protest.

"Maybe we should wait for Rhys?" Azriel was the one to speak, his shadows circling his crossed arms against his chest. He hadn't glanced at you since you'd entered the library or since his return yesterday.

"We've been staring at this for weeks and all we've discovered is how cold you are here," Cassian said, pointing the sheathed sword in your direction.

"I should do it," you said, holding your palm open. "I know how to work a curse, if you guys get one it could manipulate your strength and powers." Cassian gripped the hilt tighter, shaking his head at the offer.

Azriel's deep voice startled you, not expecting his words being directed at you. "No, we promised Thesan to keep you save, Cassian knows what he's doing." He doesn't look at you though, some part of you longing for his hazel eyes to connect with yours.

You nod, stepping back from the two Illyrian warriors. Azriel's dagger grasped in one hand and his shadows twirling around his other.

Cassian pulled the sword from its sheath, nothing. The scratching against metal flooded the room again and he dropped the sheath to the floor with a clang.

A white fog curled out of the ornate metal, moving like lightning. You didn't see the thing before it launched at you, a thousand tiny teeth sinking into your flesh. The force knocked you down and sent you across the room.

Darkness dispersed around you, red and cobalt glows flitting around the room. The small ball of fae light released itself from your locket, yellow hue shining on the worm eating away at you. A hand grabbed the back of your shirt collar, yanking you through the room. You pulled the worm off your thigh and flung it away.

Your back hit the wall in the hallway, library door slamming shut. Cassian knelt down in front you, trembling hands hovering close to the wound on your thigh. He didn't touch it though.

“Fuck, that thing was ancient,” you spat, Cassian chuckled at your outburst. You ripped the sheer long panel from your tunic and tied it around your thigh, knotting it twice and groaning at the tight pull. You peered around Cassian, Azriel nowhere to be seen, a few of his shadows escaping through the gap underneath the door to check on you.

The weight on your necklace light, you touched the open locket wondering why it hadn't returned to you.

"Stay here."

You clutched Cassian's wrist, stopping him before he could open the door. "We need that thing alive," you snarled, nose nearly brushing yours as you pulled him down to you. "It's a flesh eating worm, nasty buggers. Cut it in half and pin it down."

"Let's just hope Az hasn't already slaughtered it on your behalf." He smirked and you almost slid down the wall, long hair falling into his face, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Cassian helped you up from the floor, knowing that you weren't going to sit this one out. He kicked the door in, dragging you back through the mist, his red siphons the only thing you could see of him through the darkness.

The ball of fae light whizzed around at your feet, then twirled back to the centre of the room. A glint of silver glimmered to the left, you flinched as something hit your face and dripped down your cheek. The shadows fell away revealing Cassian and Azriel, chests heaving up and down, the truth-teller pinning the worm to the planks of the wooden floor.

Another dagger pierced the worms tail, its size doubled after feasting on your flesh. You licked your lip regretting it instantly at the coppery tang of blood covering you. The worms blood. You stared at Cassian covered head to toe in blood and slime, he must have been close to it when Azriel cut the creature in half.

You inched closer to the worm, flinching when the tail flicked in your direction. A groan slipped from your lips, thigh throbbing as a streak of pain sent shocks down your leg.

Azriel's arm trailed around your back and under your arm, he lifted you effortless and sat you on the armchair by the fire, the same spot you'd taken everyday. His face hard, eyes narrowed and the tic in his jaw pulsing as he stared at the wound on your thigh.

"I've had way worse, flesh eating worms are the least of my worries," you said trying to lighten the mood, his scowl deepened at your words. "Do you have a healers kit I use?" You tilted your head trying to meet his gaze, but he'd already walked away.

Cassian leaned on the doorframe, wiping the slime from his chin with the back of his hand. "Az will patch you up, I'm going to shower and hope I never see the inside of one them again." You returned his smile, offering a silent thank you.

You sunk back into the soft backing of the armchair, wrists hanging off the armrest as you waited for Azriel to return. He carried a worn leather bag, kneeling down to open it and sort through clinking bottles. He unraveled some bandages and popped the screw from a glass potions bottle.

"You're handling the pain well," Azriel said, he removed his gloves not looking at you. You couldn't take your eyes off the scars littering every inch of them, the same ones marring your arms.

Before you could stop yourself, "were you under the mountain too?"

[Part Six]

taglist: @rcarbo1 , @st4r-girl-official,@azrielswhore, @cynthiesjmxazrielslover, @shizukestar, @wolfbc97 , @thecraziestcrayon , @i-am-infinite , @krowiathemythologynerd @nebarious

Thanks for all your lovely comments and for reading, Hope you like this chapter :)

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hello

I would like to request a smut prompt for Sergeant Hunter. (Only if you’re up for it oc)

I had ❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜ in mind. It’s fits him so well 👀

Or, if you’re in the mood for something else,

❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜

The choice is yours, cheers ^^

emerges from my cave, writes hurt/comfort instead of smut, disappears back into my cave. sorry nonnie, the smut muse didn't want to cooperate for this one

Tell Me

Summary: Hunter does his best to protect you, but feels he must prove it in more ways than one. Prompt in bold and red.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: allusions to harassment, Hunter being bad at talking about his feelings, fade to black so nothing NSFW but this blog is still 18+, first kiss, hurt/comfort vibes

You've never experienced Hunter's anger like this. He usually doesn't let his emotions get the better of him and, no matter his own issues, ensures the squad stays mostly on task. Even when hiccups interrupt the plan, he rolls with the punches. The Bad Batch has a 100% mission success rate for a reason. 

But tonight the issue is so much more than a mere hiccup. No, the creep at the cantina was far more unpleasant. 

The squad can gather intel in its sleep; any of you could've staked the cantina out alone and been successful. Hunter had insisted everyone partake. In hindsight, you're glad he pushed for it, even if you and Crosshair both grumbled aloud at Hunter's mother-hennishness. You'd strode straight into the shithole bar, determined to get what you were sent for and get out as quickly as possible. 

Then that stranger got a little too friendly. He'd invaded your personal space and put his hands on you despite your very evident discomfort, reeking of cheap alcohol and bad decisions. 

Hunter had stepped in. Well... he'd done more than that. You're not envious of the stranger and his freshly broken nose.

The sergeant, glowering and shaking his hand out, had growled at the others to stay put and finish the mission. Then he'd all but ordered you back to the ship, giving you no choice but to follow or risk his wrath as well. 

Now, back on board the Marauder, you sigh as your irritation grows, prickly and uncomfortable in your chest. "Hunter."

"What," he snaps. 

"You don't have to babysit me." Crossing your arms, you lean against the bulkhead, fixing him with an unimpressed glare. 

"I'm not—" He turns away, jaw working. Shadows play over his face, backlit by the ship's control panels. His heaving chest gives enough indication that he's mentally working through something.

Softening, you take a step toward him. "Will you at least talk to me?"

His nostrils flare as you move closer. "You— You smell him now." 

"I'm sorry?"

"S'not your fault," he says, misinterpreting your words. His shoulders slump. "It's my job to protect you- you all. And I was so close to failing tonight." 

"Hunter," you say gently, holding one hand out. 

He looks down at your outstretched palm and tentatively reaches to hook your fingertips together. Even through the coarse fabric of his blacks, his warmth scorches through you. Though his nose remains scrunched, when his eyes find yours, he seems to finally step back from the edge of anger. But the emotions continuing to shine in his eyes give you pause. 

Swallowing down the burgeoning hope in your chest forcing out the irritation, you squeeze his fingers. "I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do. But is this about protecting me? Or is this something else? I- I can shower if it's a sensory issue—"

"No," he interrupts. Adjusting his hold, his fingers twine between yours. He tugs you closer. "I mean—it won't be an issue for long. Kark, I'm goin' about this all wrong." 

The sergeant sighs, pulling you in for a hug. While you've embraced him before, surprise hums along your veins. Tentative, you wrap your arms around his middle, and tuck your face into the crook of his neck, where his own scent is strongest, a unique blend of earth and musk and sweat that makes your insides stir. He tightens his arms. 

"Not that this isn't nice," you say, voice muffled, "but what're you doing?"

He's quiet for a moment. "Making you smell like me." 

You blink. "Oh." Without meaning to, you inhale a deep breath, his warm scent swirling within your lungs. "You do smell good."

Hunter chuckles. The sound vibrates against your chest. "That right?"

Humming in affirmation, you press the bridge of your nose to his skin. His pulse beats against your nose; its pace quickens. For a heartbeat, you manage to contain the response that leaps to the tip of your tongue. Is this really the time?

But then again, you've been waiting for the right time to broach the subject of your feelings for months. You've shared a few hugs, left countless lingering looks when you think he isn't looking, chased an orgasm or two in silence when he's not around. If you keep waiting, the right time won't ever happen. And you'll be left wondering.  

Throwing caution to the wind, you say, "Be easier if you take your armor off." 

"Mesh'la," he murmurs. The endearment somehow sounds like a warning. "I- Your heart is racing. You're not thinking clearly."

Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you resist the urge to pull away at what feels like a rejection. Have you been reading all the signs wrong? Did you misread the situation earlier? You're relatively certain any of the squad would have jumped to your defense--but would the others have needed to be physically restrained from doing more damage? Would Wrecker have had to pry Tech, or Crosshair, or Echo, away from your assailant like he'd done to Hunter?

No, you decide, you've been reading the signs correctly. Stepping out of his embrace but not his orbit, you search Hunter's gaze. Threading your fingers together once again, you raise his hand to brush your lips over the knuckles surely bruising under his gloves. Hunter's lips part in surprise. 

"I'm thinking perfectly clearly." You hesitate, then forge ahead. "Tell me you don't feel anything for me, and I'll go back to pining in silence. Tell me I'm the only one who sees something here. Tell me... Tell me you broke his face because I'm part of the squad, and no other reason. Please."

Hunter inhales a shallow breath. His eyes, gray in the dim light of the Marauder's controls, sear into yours with an unidentifiable mix of emotions. "I can't." 

Relief floods through you. With a weak smile, you gesture to yourself. "Do I still smell like him?" 

He nods. 

"Do you care for me?"

Another nod, stronger than the previous. 

"Then do something about it, Hunter." Guiding his gloved touch to your face, you lean into his warmth. 

His throat bobs when he swallows. After another moment of silent indecision, Hunter steps into your personal space, gaze searching your expression. He must not find anything worth stopping for, because his grip tightens behind your jaw. The tip of his crooked nose slides along the side of your own nose, breath puffing warm and unsteady over your face. 

You close the gap. Your mouths slot together, and it's like coming home after a long time away. Humming in the back of your throat, you press closer, deepening the kiss without hesitation. Hunter follows your lead. His armor still blocks you from truly feeling him, but you don't care. His lips are on yours, and your heart is his. 

Your name slips from his lips like a prayer. Eyes fluttering open, you peer up at him from beneath your lashes. "Yes?" 

"A-Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Then let me prove that you're mine," he murmurs. His touch lingers along your waist before drifting towards your center. "Let me prove that I take care of what belongs to me." 

A shiver skates up your spine. "Show me."

Ragu list: to be added or removed go here!

@dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations

@523rdrebel @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles

@starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

@sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @dickarchivist @a-single-tulip

@thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @cw80831

@mssbridgerton @isaidonyourknees @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins

@dangraccoon @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl  @zenrobbins0021

[bobbimorses]

what do you think of matt fraction's hawkeye run? obviously its very highly regarded but i have seen criticisms on how he portrayed clint's character and that some people also had issues with it because all the mcu fans used it as substitue characterisation after avengers 2012 left them with not much and "became insufferable about it." also that other good hawkeye comics were ignored in favour of it.

well idk if i would characterize "became insufferable about it" with regards to reading a comic as it is released bc comics have so much trouble succeeding. but i think what you're getting at with pointing to 2012 is a sort of revisionism that's occurred. and it has! i think many have forgotten, and many more are now unaware (bc time disgustingly marches on for all of us) that the avengers movie, in fact, came out before hawkeye v4 (the fraction & aja run we're discussing) even began.

i would like to gently grab you all by the shoulders when i say this--bc i realize we've reached a point where some of you were literal kindergarteners when this movie came out and don't have the cultural consciousness to know not only was hawkeye not (never!) a household name, but neither were "the avengers" for the most part--but whenever you say "i can't BELIEVE the mcu didn't include/start with [storyline from hawkeye v4. page from hawkeye v4. panel from hawkeye v4. dialogue/"catchphrase" from hawkeye v4. relationship from hawkeye v4. retconned backstory/fluency from hawkeye v4 ]" regarding clint, know that that literally did not exist at the time.

mcu clint showed up wearing all black in 2011. mcu clint in the movie "the avengers" wasn't even wearing purple. mcu clint was actually not even that clinton francis barton. the mcu started off as the ultimates. "i can't believe the mcu didn't make clint like clint barton in this page from 2015." mcu made clint like clint barton from an entirely different line of comics, the ultimates, with an entirely different clint barton, bc the 2010s had just started crawling out of the Grit and Realism and We're All Wearing Black Leather of superhero movies from the 2000s. and practically none of those were comic-accurate. the mcu still isn't by god but a current mcu movie can resemble a specific storyline and have a recognizable costume whereas a lot of superhero movies in the 2000s (not you spider-man and hulk costumes) were like "here is the character, bulleteater foxtrot. he is based on the celebrated indie comic where someone shoots at a lonely boy making friends with a fox in the forest and, after a bullet grazes his face and kills the fox, he avenges his friend by championing the survival of forest critters over encroaching aggressive habitat destruction. in this movie, some hitman in the mob that eats shrapnel-os for breakfast every day gets intel from a woman named foxy and 35% of the scenes are in a seedy club with gratuitous dancing. nobody has the same name as a single character in the series. 80% of our viewers will not know this was based on a comic when it airs at 10pm on showtime. godspeed."

digressing psa over. that wasn't your question at all but we went through that journey just now together.

ANYWAYS i see what you're saying about "substitute characterization." when clint had so little non-mind controlled scenes and characterization available from the mcu at all, you can understand people pulling from the comics for their characterization. as they should! comic book movies have characters from comic books! whooo, comics! it's fair that people were reading the currently releasing comic to supplement their fanworks of this character with a lacking portrayal. and bc of the popularity and acclaim of the series, well that just made it easier. but these elements combined meant past portrayals of clint were kind of overshadowed, bc people were unfamiliar with the clint barton of the past 50 years. why? bc clint barton wasn't a household name! hey, it all ties back! that digression wasn't a digression after all!

well as you all know, the avengers made a billion dollars. people did not know clint barton, but now people do. only they don't know clint barton, they know the name, clint barton. oh cruel household name irony, our journey is not over. and the people reading hawkeye v4, perhaps even their very first foray into comics (or still unsure of how to access comics so they see piecemeal panels of it second-hand), now that they're curious about all this? well they're like "hey, wait a second...where was this clint barton?" so now you can have vocal contingents of fans of popular and acclaimed comic hawkeye v4, like "yo, that's not clint barton!" people would like comics portrayed accurately in movies that are purported to be comic books based. god knows that would be wild. but using hawkeye v4 as all examples means our purple-masked friend is, well, purple-maskless. but them's the breaks.

now back to your actual question. i've actually typed way too much explaining this weird set of circumstances about mcu vs 2012 bc i think it helps explore the second part of your...statement? but as to your actual question, which i think would be more comics-centric than criticisms with mcu fans, i've touched on that a few times before. not to link to other questions to answer your question, but yeah. it's a great comic. there's a reason it did so well. it just so happens that that may have led to historical portrayals of clint being eclipsed with subsequent writers trying to replicate its success haphazardly. no reason for us all to do the same. we love reading the source material don't we folks. for more unnecessarily long tangents about clint barton, feel free to peruse my meta tag. we are all lovers of a certain clint barton on this here planet earth

[wizardofrozz]

Learning to Trust

Ordo Skirata x reader, mention of Mereel and Kal Skirata

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: swearing, mention of war, mostly just fluff

A/N: I got punched in the face with this idea and amazed myself with how fast I wrote it lmao hope you enjoy! ❤️

jagyc’kovid: dickhead

shabuir: motherfucker

It was peaceful. The gentle undercurrent of the water rocked the Aay’han, reminding you of a mother rocking her newborn. The co-pilot seat wasn’t the most comfortable but if you sat at an angle, your feet resting on the control panel, you could let your muscles relax enough that you could possibly nap. Your eyes followed the bright, glimmering aquatic life that swam past, watching them shimmer in the sunlight that streamed through the water. The Aay’han was floating off the coast of the capital city, waiting for Sergeant Skirata and Mereel to com for a pickup. 

You had been undercover for the Republic for…a long time, gathering intel about the manufacturing of Separatist droids. Life had been fairly normal, well as normal as it could be for a Republic spy until a certain Mandalorian and his small squad of clones came crashing through your front door. Literally. You glanced at the pilot’s chair, the corner of your lips lifting. 

Ordo was stretched out in the chair beside you, his long legs crossed at the ankles. His arms were folded over his chest, his head tipped forward until his chin nearly touched his chest. His empty Mandalorian helmet sat on the floor beside his chair and every once in a while, you could hear faint, staticky voices floating from inside. The muted shimmer of the water threw a faint glow over his face; Ordo looked peaceful, his usually tense expression slack, his eyes closed. 

He was sleeping. You muffled a chuckle against the back of your hand, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The co-pilot chair groaned as you stood and you paused, half-standing, to dart your eyes back towards Ordo. He huffed heavily through his nose but otherwise didn’t move. 

It took a few minutes of rustling through cabinets as quietly as possible, having to stop a few times when you made too much noise before you finally found a blanket. It smelled a bit musty but it would do. You unfolded it on your back to the cockpit, smirking at Ordo’s sleeping form before you carefully draped the blanket over him. He shifted lazily, his brow wrinkling for a moment and you stood a little straighter and held your breath. Ordo’s lashes fluttered, his dark glassy eyes taking a moment to focus but they quickly lifted to where you stood over him. 

“Sorry to wake you,” you murmured with an apologetic smile. 

“Wasn’t sleepin’,” Ordo grumbled, dragging himself into a sitting position. The furrow between his brows deepened as he looked down at the blanket pooling in his lap. There was an odd look on his face, one you had seen occasionally in the time you’d spent with him. The innocent, almost confused expression always made your heart ache and it was even worse when he tilted his head back to look up at you. 

“I thought you’d be more uncomfortable,” you explained, gesturing to the blanket as you leaned against the back of his chair. Ordo nodded slowly, absently rubbing the fabric between his gloved fingers. “You can try and go back to sleep if you’d like.”

Ordo somehow looked more tense than usual for a moment, before dropping his eyes to the blanket again. “Alright.” For some reason, it surprised you; accidentally falling asleep was one thing but this showed that he trusted you enough to willingly let himself rest. 

“Hm, you must really trust me,” you teased. Ordo turned in his chair again and you were suddenly aware of how close he was, his face close enough that you could see the faint freckles on his cheeks. Ordo was always intense but the way he looked at you, bright brown eyes smoldering, made your stomach somersault. 

“I do.” He spoke softly like it was a secret but there was no uncertainty in his voice. Your breath caught when he smiled, crooked and boyish, disarmingly charming without even trying. Sometimes you wondered if he was aware of it but based on some of the more…awkward encounters you’d had with him, you were pretty sure it was natural. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, meaning it wholeheartedly. Ordo’s smile started to fade but you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down to your mouth, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he forced his gaze elsewhere. He cleared his throat quietly and when his eyes found yours again you caught the muted anxiety that flashed across his face. 

You had no idea where the confidence came from that had you leaning down, bringing your face even closer to his. Ordo tensed but didn’t pull away, letting the strained silence linger. A shiver zipped up your spine when he tilted his head slowly, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. He paused, leaving almost no space between you and him and you could feel his slow, rhythmic breathing against your chin. 

“Can I?” he asked softly. 

“Please.” 

A soft gasp filled the air when he closed the space and you weren’t sure if you made the sound or if he had. The kiss was hesitant, neither of you moving for a moment until one of his large hands closed around your bicep and you melted against him, sighing through your nose. It was clear Ordo didn’t have much experience but he didn’t seem to mind following your lead. He inhaled sharply when your tongue swept over his bottom lip but he quickly caught on, parting his lips. 

The low groan from deep in his chest made you shiver, a hand coming to cup the back of his head, your fingers threading through his soft curls. 

“Ord’ika? You read me?” You and Ordo jumped so hard at the familiar voice that your heads knocked together, each of you quickly reaching up to rub the now-aching spot. Ordo growled through clenched teeth, twisting around to punch a button on the control panel; despite the pain blooming across your forehead, you barely stifled a laugh. 

“What?” he snapped, glaring at the blue hologram that popped up. Mereel tilted his head, arching a brow but there was the hint of a smirk on his face. 

“What’d you do to your head?”

“None of your business, jagyc’kovid. What d’ya want?” 

“Pickup would be nice,” Mereel sighed with a shrug. He glanced over his shoulder with a badly hidden smirk and winked at who you assumed was Kal. 

“Send coordinates,” Ordo grumbled, ending the call without letting Mereel respond. “Shabuir.”

You giggled, biting your lip when Ordo threw a narrow-eyed look in your direction. “Come on, let’s go get them.” 

“Should leave 'em,” Ordo huffed, rubbing his forehead one last time before dropping his hands to the panel again and starting the flight sequence. The smile that spread across your face was fonder than you thought possible and you leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss on his cheek. You settled into the co-pilot chair, glancing over at him again with a smirk.  

Ordo refused to look at you but there was no denying that his cheeks were a little redder than before. 

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @dystopicjumpsuit @secondaryrealm @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino

[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (15)

Chapter Fifteen: The Summit

Gif by @dreamswithghosts

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: The mission to find Crosshair doesn't quite go to plan.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, a single kiss, brief fluff and angst, I project my feelings (sorry, I can't help it)

Word Count: 3.4K

Author's notes: Hope you enjoy! Again, keeping it pretty chill because Ch16 is going to be quite emotionally taxing :(

“Echo and I have scoured through Imperial and Republic files, but intel about the Advanced Science Division is limited.” Tech revealed as he tapped through the information.

“Do we know where they’re detaining Crosshair and the other clones?” Hunter asked.

“Negative. Their base of operations is unknown.”

“Well, what about their chief scientist?”

“There’s even less on Dr. Hemlock, and I was very thorough. He is a ghost.”

“Not quite.” Echo interjected as he came down from the cockpit. “According to a contact of mine, Hemlock’s set to attend a high-level Imperial summit in two rotations.” He walked over to the other control panel and inputted the information.

“Where?” You queried as you all stepped across to look at the screen.

“Tarkin’s compound on Eriadu.” He pulled up an image of the location. “If we do a covert infiltration, we can plant a homing beacon on Hemlock’s ship and track him to his base.”

“And to Crosshair.” Omega added.

“Hmmm, it won’t be that simple.” Hunter disputed. “We’d be at a tactical disadvantage, and I’m not sure it’s worth the risk.”

“Hunter, I know why you’re saying that but if what I was sensing was actually Crosshair, he was in a lot of pain, and this is real. He needs us.” You said as gently as you could manage.

“I agree.” Tech concurred with you. “I understand your hesitation. We have not always agreed with Crosshair, but he is still our brother. We do not leave our own behind.”

“If there’s a chance to get him back, we have to take it.” Omega piled on.

“Definitely.” Wrecker said.

In his heart, he agreed with what you all were saying but he had the responsibility of looking at the bigger picture and what he saw worried him. “What about reinforcements?”

“Well, Rex is on a separate mission, so it’s just us.” Echo answered. “A small enough team to get in and out without alerting them. But we’ll need to move quickly.”

Hunter needed a minute to really think about this. This wasn’t a decision that he could make lightly. He walked over to the door and went outside.

“Hold on.” You said to the others before you walked out the ship and sat on the steps.

“This isn’t a good idea.” Hunter said as he paced in front of you. Every survival and leadership instinct he possessed was telling him that this was a bad idea, yet this was his brother. He couldn’t turn his back on him, not when there was a chance that he could’ve changed yet he couldn’t shake that doubt.

“I understand your reluctance, I really do, but-”

“Do you think it’s worth risking everything we’ve built here?”

“It’s not it, Hunter. It’s him. And I know if there was the smallest chance that we could get Crosshair back with us and you didn’t take it, it would haunt you.”

Hunter didn’t reply immediately but he knew you were right.

You spoke into the silence. “That being said, if you truly can’t sanction this, I will walk back in there with you and back you up.”

Hunter paused his pacing and exhaled deeply. He turned to face you. “We’re finally somewhere safe. I don’t want to lose that. But...” He swallowed thickly, “I don’t want to lose him either, not if there’s a possibility that he’s made a different choice.”

You stood and stepped towards him. You took his hands in yours “It’s just one more mission. One more and we can call it.” You whispered.

“One more.” Hunter repeated quietly. “One more to get our brother back.”

You nodded and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. “Come on.” The two of you walked back aboard the Marauder to the awaiting faces of your team.

“Let’s get started.” Hunter said and you all began to get preparation officially underway.

--

Phee watched as you and the others were getting ready to leave. “So, where you all headed?” She asked as you and Omega wandered over to her.

“It’s a covert mission.” Omega said in a hushed tone.

“Oh, I see. Well, I expect details when you get back.” Phee instructed the young girl.

“Bye, Phee.” Omega said cheerily before she ran back to the ship.

“He never said anything.” Phee mused as she looked past you over to Tech.

You followed her stare and rested a friendly hand on her shoulder. He’s the smartest yet sometimes the dumbest person I know. Just be patient with him and you’ll get there eventually.

“Yeah, I guess.” Phee acknowledged with a nod. “Be safe out there.”

See you later. You started to make your way back to the Marauder.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Phee shouted after you. “You never opened your mouth to say all this! Does this mean I’m in?”

“Call it a belated ‘thank you for bringing us here’ gift!” You called back before you hopped up the steps, but you didn’t go all the way in yet, you loitered by the doorway to wait for Tech, and you couldn’t help but be a little bit nosy as you saw Phee now making her way over to him.

Tech glanced up from his datapad and saw that Phee was heading towards him. He quickly focused his eyes back on the screen.

“So, you were just going to leave without saying goodbye.” Phee queried.

“That is correct.” Tech replied bluntly, thinking that would be sufficient but he felt Phee’s gaze become more pointed. He shifted his eyes to look at her. “Did you require a briefing?”

“You know, when two friends are talking, it’s called a conversation.” His lack of response did not surprise her. “Well, don’t go running off with any pirates or smugglers while you’re gone.”

“Yes. This mission should not involve either.”

Phee pushed the datapad down and took a step closer to him. “That’s not exactly what I was getting at.” She couldn’t help but release a soft chuckle at the clueless expression on his face. “See you around, brown eyes.” She gave him one last smile before she turned on her heels and walked away.

You noticed the way Tech watched her go and although you couldn’t see his face, you could sense the deeper feelings that were there even if he couldn’t quite acknowledge them yet. I’m sorry.

“For what?” Tech cocked his head at you as he paused at the bottom of the steps.

If Hunter and I were anything like the way you two are, I understand why you all had so many plans in place and the time you two have been around each other has been far less than what you had to put up with.

“I do not understand what-” Tech darted up the stairs.

You caught his shoulder to stop him from getting past you. “I’m also sorry because I told Hunter I’d leave you to your own devices, but I need to just offer you a little familial advice.”

“Advice?”

“With regards to you and Phee.”

“I hardly think there is a me and Phee. We-”

“I know. I’m not going to dive into all that yet. I’m only going to say when we’re back, maybe take her somewhere quiet, have a nice walk and just talk. Let yourself feel that slightly uncomfortable and awkward but at the same time content and happy feeling that comes from being around her because it could lead to something that nice that you both deserve.”

“I still do not know exactly what you’re referring to.” Tech deflected.

He could say that he all he wanted but you saw the way his eyes drifted downward as he said that. “Just feel. That’s all.” You affectionately squeezed the top of his arm before you let him go and you got the rest of your armour on as the ship powered up and left the island.

--

“I have identified a suitable location to land outside their sensor range.” Tech said as the ship got ready to exit hyperspace.

“How are we bypassing those cruisers?” You questioned as you saw the red warnings on the dash.

“Using a clearance code Rex and I acquired from one of our contacts.” Echo answered.

“Good to have you back, Echo.” Wrecker said merrily. “Just like old times.”

The ship came out of hyperspace.

“Wrecker, man the tail gun. Just in case.” Hunter directed as he saw the cruisers ahead.

“You got it.” Wrecker affirmed as he got up from his seat.

Echo transmitted the clearance codes and you all waited with bated breath.

“If this doesn’t work, be ready to fly out of here.” Hunter said as you all awaited confirmation that you were in the clear.

After a few more seconds of silence, the ship’s commlink beeped and an officer’s voice came through. “Vessel 1143, you are clear for approach.”

You made sure your armour and weapons were secure before you pulled your hood and mask up as the others put on their helmets. You were officially doing it now. You only hoped getting this intel about Crosshair would indeed be worth what was being risked.

--

“Let’s make this quick before they realise we didn’t land at the base.” Echo advised as he stepped off the ship first and the group of you got underway.

--

“What kind of approach are we making? A side-wind breach?” Omega asked inquisitively as you all stealthily made your way through the tree-covered mountain path.

“It worked on Raxus.” Tech said in reply.

“It won’t work here.” Echo corrected him. “The Empire’s protocols have changed since then.”

Wrecker let out a smug scoff. “Thanks to us.”

“No tanks and no explosions this time, Wrecker.” Echo reminded him as he walked past him.

Wrecker let out a disappointed groan. “Fine.”

Having reached the edge of the perimeter, you glanced up to see the sky rail system in place that crossed the abyss below and inwardly groaned. We were supposed to be avoiding heights.

Hunter half turned his helmet in acknowledgement before he looked through his macrobinoculars at the building on top of one of the mountain peaks. “Hmm. The compound is heavily fortified.”

“But there’s a weak point in the rail line that we can exploit.” Echo pointed out as he peered investigated the terrain through his own pair. “We’ll sneak past the sensor and hitch a ride under one of the cars.”

“You mean hang? Over that?” Omega said nervously.

You didn’t blame her attitude. This plan didn’t thrill you either.

“Well, it’s the only way to access the compound unnoticed.” Echo replied simply.

“Tech, disable the sensor.” Hunter ordered.

“That would trigger an alert. I can temporarily disrupt the feed, but I estimate only 30 seconds for us to clear the zone before it reactivates. We must be precise.”

You felt bad but you couldn’t help it, the way you all turned to glance back at Wrecker was pretty instinctual.

Wrecker protested in an affronted fashion. “What? I can handle it!”

Echo handed Tech one of the cable attachments for his blaster whilst Hunter monitored the sensor.

Hunter signalled for Tech to go and for now the only thing the rest of you could do was wait for his word.

“Stand by.” Tech advised into his comm as he got to work.

You heard the screech of metal on metal and looked ahead to see another railcar in the distance. You tapped your comm, “Another railcar is approaching. Are we set?”

“Not… yet.” Tech replied as he waited for official confirmation that the sensor had powered down. When he had that, he spoke into his comm, “The sensor is down. Move in!”

You all ran to the edge of the cliff and fired your cables to the side of the car.

You joined the others in grabbing a hold of whatever structure was available on the outside and eagerly awaited this particular part of the mission to be over.

--

“Halfway there.” Echo called back to the rest of you.

Wrecker calmly chuckled. “This isn’t so bad.” But he then made the mistake of looking down to the empty space below and groaned. “Never mind.” He started counting down the minutes.

--

When the car was arriving at the terminal, you all hopped off onto the outside platform before moved too far in.

Hunter landed a punch to the first trooper and tossed him over the rail before he pressed himself against the side of the building as you fired a shot past him that took care of the second trooper that was getting their blaster ready. He halted Omega from advancing past him as the door to the outside opened to reveal another soldier coming out. Without hesitation, he fired his own shot that sent the trooper flailing over the side and he led the way inside.

--

Your way in had brought you into the main landing bay and you took cover behind one of the many vast storage containers.

Hunter pulled out his macrobinoculars and scanned the various ships.

“Which ship is Hemlock’s?” Omega whispered.

“We need to access the hangar manifest from the control room.” Echo said.

“Echo, Tech, and (Y/N) with me.” Hunter ordered before he spoke to Wrecker and Omega. “You two, plant the homing beacon.”

You split up and got your missions jobs underway.

--

The four of you managed to make it up to the control room and stun the officers inside with little trouble.

“I’ll monitor their security channels.” Echo said whilst you and Hunter moved the unconscious bodies and Tech got to work on getting the manifest.

“Found it. Hemlock’s shuttle is at docking lane four.” Tech informed Wrecker and Omega through his comm.

“Copy that.” Came Omega’s reply.

“Hmm. Something’s not right.” Echo mused as he stared at the screen. “Many of the surveillance systems have had cycled deactivations in various corridors.”

“That is highly irregular considering the number of top-ranking Imperial officers present.” Tech agreed.

Hunter signalled to you and Tech, “The three of us will check in out and Echo, you keep an eye on things.”

The three of you drew your blasters and left the room.

--

You’d heard over the comms that Omega had successfully planted the beacon, but you were dealing with a more urgent matter. Your investigation of the cameras had led you to find a thermal explosive primed for activation.

“Someone is targeting this base.” You said warily as a bad feeling started to settle in your gut and you started to feel into the Force around you.

“One charge will not cause much damage.” Tech theorised.

You and Hunter reacted simultaneously and drew your blasters as you heard footsteps just round the corner of the corridor.

“Good thing we have more.”

You and Hunter kept your arms steady as two people disguised as Stormtroopers stepped in front of you. You were not reassured by their actions of raising their blasters in surrender.

“Didn’t expect to find you three here.”

“Saw Gerrera.” You breathed as the man removed his helmet, but you didn’t relax your stance since you knew his intentions here could not possibly fit in with yours.

“I told you on Onderon you had a choice to make. Looks like you’ve chosen. Keep an eye out.” He instructed his partner before he walked closer. “Did you make yours?” He asked you directly.

You gave a curt nod before you asked, “What exactly is your plan here?” You weren’t quite able to keep the suspicious out of your voice.

“I’m levelling this compound, along with all the Imperials inside it.”

You finally lowered your blaster and scoffed. “You can’t be serious?”

“Can’t let you do that.” Hunter added. “We’re tracking one of the officers. We need to find his base where clones are being imprisoned, including one of our own.”

“You expect me to call this off to save a few prisoners? We are trying to fight an Empire.”

You couldn’t help but take a protective step to the right as he advanced towards Hunter. You held Saw’s pointed glare and matched it.

“Have you considered that by destroying this facility you are wiping out any chance to gather intel that could help your cause?” Tech interjected logically.

“That would require the bigger picture thinking that he’s not all that great at.” You couldn’t help but snap.

Saw’s jaw clenched at your words, but he replied to the clone, “Taking out several of their commanders is a good start.”

“Well, that victory will be short-lived as their ranks will quickly be replenished.” Tech debated.

“Maybe so. But sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.”

As he spoke, you felt a hot wave of rage rise in your veins and it took a considerable moment of effort to tamper it back down. “You’d be destroying any shot we have at-”

“I would’ve thought you would understand. They murdered your people and you’re letting them get away with it. If you truly cared about what happened, you would be doing more. You survived and instead you’re playing happy families and-”

This time, it was Hunter who got protective as he saw the flash of grief and anger behind your eyes and the way Saw had started to crowd your space. “That’s enough.” He said sharply.

Saw glanced between you both with a knowing look in his eyes but before he could say anything else, his companion came back.

“We have to go now. A security team’s been alerted.”

You had to check in with yourself again. Something felt very different. You were usually far more level-headed with your emotions but if Hunter hadn’t interrupted when he had, you knew you would’ve acted in a way that you’d only done once before and had vowed to never repeat. It was like the Force was preparing you for something else, but you didn’t know what.

The doors suddenly opened behind you and a team of troopers walked through the door and it became a shootout as you all retreated to up the corridor. The exit the three of you needed was being occupied by the Imperials so you took cover to deal with them, but Gerrera and his now wounded partner were able to get clear.

Tech rolled a stun grenade down the corridor, and it took out two more troopers and you shot the other exposed soldier which gave you all the chance to advance.

As you rounded the corner, you pushed the remaining trooper’s blaster out the way and let Hunter use his body as a shield from the other soldiers lining the next corridor whilst you and Tech shot at them.

When it was finally clear, Hunter discarded the body and tapped his comm, “We’ve been compromised. Get back to the rail line.” He said urgently as the three of you sprinted down the hall.

--

Navigating the maze of corridors was hard enough but it was only made more difficult with the onslaught of Imperial fire as the many squads of Stormtroopers continued their pursuit. All the three of you could do was provide sporadic rounds of cover fire as you retreated but it wouldn’t be sustainable for long. Thankfully, the others intercepted you and so you all were able to find your way back to the railcar, but you knew the soldiers wouldn’t be far behind.

“We need an access code.” Tech said as he tried to get the car to start.

“I’ll override it.” Echo said as he plugged in.

Whilst Echo worked on that, the rest of you took aim at the troopers that were now making their way into the railcar. Unfortunately, it powered up with some Imperials in the second car, but you had the numbers, you just needed to hold out and get away from the compound.

--

Suddenly, the lights in the car flickered and you could feel the speed start to slow down.  

“We’re losing power!” Echo announced with frustration as he knew there was nothing, he could do to prevent it.

You shot the last trooper before you joined the others in

As you stared out into the clouds and saw the enemy railcar a few metres ahead with a squad to Stormtroopers already setting their sights on you, you found yourself wishing you’d shot Gerrera when you’d had the chance. He’d followed through on his plan, but the Imperials were still standing, and it was the six of you who were going to pay for it instead.

“This is going to be a problem.”

Which you knew was Tech’s way of saying you were absolutely fucked.

Next Chapter>

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