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fanfreakinfiction · 8 months

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My Gods Are Not Kind to Lonely Mothers

Chapter 1: Don’t Cry

Ch. 2 | Masterlist 🖤

14K words // Din Djarin x Pregnantf!reader

Pairing: Din Djarin x pregnantf!reader (Reader is younger but not weirdly young) Reader was a sex worker. Reader’s first language is one I made up she speaks pretty good basic but struggles to find certain words. The reader is pregnant!

Tags: SMUT virginity loss, con-non-con, made-up Star Wars culture & religion, split POV, slight language barrier, mention of death, mention of child death, dark!, 18+ DNI.

Warnings: Child loss, Pregnancy, Birthing, Blood, Death?, explicit mention of child loss and grief, guys this is dark.

A/N: I got this idea as I was dying in the shower from period cramps & also from a bot I used to use on Janitor AI before it was privated (RIP Din Bot). For logistics, we will just pretend that the Razor Crest didn’t get absolutely obliterated. For timeline reference, this takes place after season 3. Im convinced Din & Grogu are gonna have fun son/dad bounty-hunting adventures as Din teaches Grogu how to be a Mandalorian. Slight flashback in the middle of how reader and Mando met. Grogu has been working on his force flips lmao. I imagine the reader having an accent kind of like Gal Gadot, idk just roll with it. Also, I am so sorry if you cry reading this, I know I did writing it.

His hands ghosted over the silky skin of her back as he watched himself disappear and reappear from her stretched cunt. Slick mixed with blood pooled at the base of his cock in a ring, and the sound of her whimpers reached his ears through the thick metal of his helmet. The feeling of her tightness was so inviting, so hypnotizing, he felt possessed. He didn’t even mean to finish inside of her, he’d have to pay extra for that.

From the incense heavy room he found himself standing at the edge of an enigmatic forest, encircled by black rock. An ethereal silence enveloped the scene, leaving him with an eerie sense of detachment.

His eyes shifted as he looked up on a pool of steaming water, obscured by the thick veil of steam, he saw her. The woman he’d been with on Tattooine so long ago. She struggled, her words lost in the hissing steam as her trembling hand gently grazed her belly. And there, in the midst of the dream's uncertainty, he witnessed the miracle of life itself—a whisper of cells coalescing into a fragile existence, pulsating with an otherworldly vitality.

Yet, the serenity was short-lived. The gentle whisper transformed into a nightmarish wail—a blood-curdling scream that tore through the tranquility of the woods. It was a scream of agony, of despair, and it emanated from her trembling lips. Her lips, soft and inviting, the same ones he'd yearned to kiss that night when he had ventured into the pleasure house.

The piercing screams grew louder, echoing through the dream, a symphony of suffering that filled the air with torment. As he watched her agony unfold, he was jolted awake, his head colliding with the unforgiving overhead storage. The sudden transition from the surreal to reality left him momentarily disoriented.

In the dimly lit living quarters of the Crest, Grogu, the young green child who had become an unexpected but cherished presence in his life, cried out from his sling, hanging above Din's bunk.

With a heavy sigh, the sound reverberating through the vocoder in his helmet, Din rose to his feet. The aging joints in his knees protested as he reached out to comfort the child, his gloved hands gently lifting Grogu from the nest of makeshift fabric.

"I know," Din murmured softly, his voice a quiet rumble as he cradled the child in his arms. "You saw it too, didn't you, kid?" Grogu, with his large, expressive eyes, gazed up at Din with a mournful look and reached out, tiny green fingers brushing against the Mandalorian's helmet.

After the tumultuous events that had reshaped his life, Din Djarin had never allowed your memory to occupy his thoughts. Amidst the whirlwind of reuniting with Grogu, aiding Boba Fett, and playing a pivotal role in the reclamation of Mandalore, you had become little more than a faint blip on his radar—a passing connection that had provided a brief interlude of solace in the midst of his relentless journey.

But now, as he cradled Grogu in his arms, looking into the innocent, sorrowful eyes of the young child, he couldn't deny the awakening of something deeper within him. It was a sensation that transcended the confines of his dreams, a connection he felt as profoundly as the vivid dreamscape that had woven itself into his consciousness.

The realization slowly dawned upon him: you were more than just a fleeting memory. You were an integral part of the enigmatic tapestry of his life, and the threads of fate had woven your presence into his destiny in a way he had never expected.

Breaking free from his reverie, Grogu's tiny green form squirmed wildly in Din's arms, his latent Force abilities propelling him away from the Mandalorian's grasp. With agile grace, he leaped and bounced his way through the ship's cramped quarters, a small but energetic whirlwind of curiosity. Din could barely react before Grogu vaulted into the cockpit.

Din's boots thudded on the ladder's metal rungs as he followed the young one up into the cockpit. A chorus of wild babbling reached his ears, punctuated by the frenzied pressing of buttons on the navicomputer.

"Don't touch that!" Din exclaimed, a hint of exasperation in his voice, his heart racing as Grogu's tiny hand hovered perilously close to the power reset button. He couldn't help but be wary of the mischief the child could unleash.

The young one looked up at Din with eager eyes, babbled something incomprehensible, and tentatively touched the screen. Din cocked his head, his tinted visor reflecting his curiosity. With a resigned sigh, he walked over to the console and entered a code to initialize the navigation system. "Is this what you want?" Din asked, studying Grogu.

In response, Grogu emitted a single, distinct "Patu" sound, his tiny fingers now reaching for the code panel. Hesitating only momentarily, Din bent down, lifting the child to eye level with the buttons. Grogu began to press a sequence of buttons, his small, green hands navigating the controls with surprising precision. Din's eyes widened slightly, his thoughts racing.

"You know where she is?" his voice came out raspy. Grogu completed the sequence, and his innocent gaze met Din's as the navicomputer diligently calculated the numerical sequence. After a few moments, a series of beeps indicated the successful completion of the calculations. Din turned to read the result, the Aurebesh characters on the screen spelling out "Kith."

"It's in the Baxel Sector of the Outer Rim," Din murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, as he looked down at the child now resting contentedly in his lap. Grogu gazed up at him, then shifted his gaze to the navicomputer.

With a reluctant sigh, Din pressed a sequence of buttons to engage the hyperdrive. Whether he liked it or not, the path ahead was clear. He had to check on you. As the ship surged into hyperspace, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that this journey was far from ordinary.

—

The path up to the Mountain of Mothers was a grueling journey, especially with your feet swollen and aching. It wasn't just a hike; it was a trial, a test of endurance to prove the worthiness of those seeking parenthood. The heavy pack you carried pressed on your lower back, making each step a test of your will. Normally, the pack was shared by the "Irrit" or father, but "Illa-ishi" or lonely mothers like you were compelled to carry it alone. The remnants of those who hadn't made it to the Mountain of Mothers were marked by the skeletons you passed on the way up.

The lower pool of the mountain lay two days away, and the upper pool required an additional five days of journey. Yet, something in your heart told you that this child would be with you in two days. As you followed the ascending trail, you crossed paths with an "Illa" or mother, accompanied by her Irrit. He bore their pack with pride, walking just behind her. It was a sight that warmed your heart, a testament to the culture you held dear.

"Noona" or baby was the foundation of your beliefs, the embodiment of the life you and your "Manna" or partner created together. Reaching the Mountain of Mothers and returning with a child was the highest honor, a symbol of worthiness.

The Illa halted on her descent and, with an air of pride, revealed her noona, wrapped in the family cloth. "Noona asa illa-ini!" (it’s a girl) she declared with joy, unveiling a beautiful baby girl. You couldn't help but smile down at the tiny noona and the Illa who showed her off with such pride.

“Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit,” (baby is worthy of her mother and father) you responded with the customary blessing, bowing your head in reverence. The mother and father returned the bow, acknowledging the blessing. However, the mother's eyes soon drifted to your belly and the heavy pack that weighed you down.

“Asa Illa-ishi?” she asked softly, her face clouding with sadness. (Are you a lonely mother?)

Summoning all your strength, you fought back the tears that threatened to well up. With your head held high and a tender hand resting on your belly, you spoke resolutely, "A illa-ishi."

I am a lonely mother.

—

The journey through hyperspace had indeed stretched far longer than Din had anticipated. A full day had elapsed since that haunting dream, leaving him with the unsettling sensation of being trapped in some unseen, cosmic rotation of time. However, that ceaseless ticking eventually brought them to the end of their journey as the ship dropped out of hyperspace in front of a smaller, mysterious planet, its surface adorned with sprawling waters and lush forests. As he guided the ship into the planet's atmosphere, the Mandalorian noticed a stark absence of the usual signs of civilization—no traffic control, no spaceports, not even a refueling station. The setting felt eerily reminiscent of the world of Sorgan.

Din hovered uncertainly in the atmosphere, his mind racing. Grogu, seated in the co-pilot's chair, played with the mythasaur skull around his neck, seemingly unfazed by the situation. As Din stared at the green child, he let out a sigh and rested his head against the back of his chair.

"Now what…?" Din muttered to himself, his voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the details of the dream, seeking any hint or clue that could guide their search.

In his mind's eye, he saw you, your form shrouded in mist and glistening with sweat. The dress you wore clung to your figure, the fabric a soft white-grey that accentuated your curves as you breathed heavily. His brow furrowed in concentration. There was water, almost like a waterfall, surrounding you, with black jagged rocks supporting your form. Your feet were immersed in milky water, reminiscent of a hot spring.

Din's eyes snapped open. A hot spring. It wasn't much to go on, especially for a planet that could potentially be dotted with such natural wonders, but it was a lead worth pursuing. His hands sprung into action, deftly pressing a sequence of buttons that initiated a signal, a ping to any electronic communication device on the planet's surface.

Grogu's focus shifted from the mythasaur skull to the Mandalorian, the child's curious gaze following Din's swift movements. Din soon located the nearest signal on the planet's surface, and as he brought the Razor Crest lower, he was struck by the intensity of the landscape. Towering thick trees covered nearly every inch of land, a vast, unspoiled wilderness that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The planet's terrain was marked by colossal mountains that sliced through the canopy of green like serpents in water, their peaks jutting out in sporadic bursts.

It was a breathtaking and untamed landscape, like nothing Din had ever witnessed. His gaze scanned the vast expanse below, tracking the signal as he searched for a suitable place to land the Crest. Finally, he spotted it—an elevated landing pad erected above the treetops. It seemed to be a small station, but it was a potential refuge for refueling and gathering information, a step closer to finding you

"K1 to RC 4577, you are clear to land at dock 7," a thickly accented voice echoed through the Razor Crest's comms system, providing the coordinates for their landing.

"RC 4577 to K1, recieved," Din responded, his gaze shifting to meet Grogu's eyes. The Mandalorian leaned over to offer a piece of advice to the child, "Always be kind when you land; most landing bay employees often know the most information." Grogu looked at Din, his large eyes brimming with understanding, and he babbled something that Din accepted as an acknowledgment.

With precision, Din guided the Razor Crest toward its designated dock and gently brought the ship to the surface. As he withdrew his hand from the control lever, he noticed a subtle tremor in his own fingers. It had been a long time since he had felt such a physical manifestation of emotion, not since he had lost Grogu to Moff Gideon.

In response to the tremor, Grogu cooed softly and reached out for his protector. Din's gaze locked onto the child, his trembling hands cautiously reaching out to embrace him. Grogu instinctively placed his tiny hands on either side of Din's helmet, offering comfort and connection. A sense of relief washed over the Mandalorian, and he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The small hands on his helmet made a soft "plink" sound that resonated through his interior comms.

"Thanks, kid," Din murmured, his voice laden with gratitude, but his words unable to fully convey the depth of his feelings.

Exiting the ship, Din carried Grogu in his sling, the child's presence providing a grounding force amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. A young mechanic in worn-overalls approached, his basic broken but comprehensible. "Need refuel?" he asked, to which Din nodded in acknowledgment. The mechanic, unfazed by the Mandalorian's helmet, started toward the fuel hose.

"Hot springs?" Din inquired, his voice barely audible above the wind that whipped violently across the landing pad. The mechanic turned, his eyes reflecting confusion, but Din simply nodded and reached for his credits, preparing to tip the young man for his services. Glancing around the landing pad, he spotted a few other ships—a transport vessel and two cargo ships.

The pad itself had clearly seen better days, and the gusts of wind whipped violently across its aged metal surface, causing a tumultuous symphony of sound. At the front of the landing pad stood a small rectangular building, featuring one set of large bay doors. It seemed to be the station's main structure. Adjusting Grogu in his sling, Din began to make his way toward it, his steps determined.

The small building served as a cover for various ships, a mix of those dusted and covered with the weight of time, and others gleaming with newness. Inside, a modest diner and café shop hummed with activity, a few patrons engaged in quiet conversations. At the front, an older man sat at a makeshift desk, engrossed in the workings of a peculiar-looking computer. As Din approached, the man stood abruptly, his enthusiasm palpable.

"Hello, traveler! Welcome to Kith!" he greeted with a giant smile. "I am Don Mai, the residing Mayor. We are humbled by the presence of a great warrior such as yourself!" With a reverence that bordered on adoration, the old man bowed deeply.

Din suppressed the urge to laugh, already forming an opinion of the enthusiastic mayor that he made a mental note to tell Bo Katan about later. Before Din could utter a word, Don Mai thrust a paper pamphlet into his hands, his speech transitioning into a rehearsed spiel about Kith's culture and history.

"Kith has a rich culture and even more intense history! Women from all over the galaxy come to experience the Mountain of Mothers and—"

“The Mountain of Mothers?" Din interjected, his tone cutting through the mayor's ramblings.

Don Mai's eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Well, the Mountain of Mothers has been around since the dawn of life on our humble planet, and its springs offer—"

"Hot springs?" Din interrupted again, his focus unwavering.

"Uh, well, yes, you see, the springs offer—" Don Mai began once more, but Din's impatience grew apparent.

"Where?" Din's voice was firm, demanding answers without the unnecessary embellishments.

Don Mai huffed, "The Mountain of Mothers is the largest mountain range on Kith. You should've seen it from your ship. If you take the elevator down to the planet’s surface, there is a speeder rental that can take you to the base of the range," the old man explained, his tone slightly deflated by Din's lack of interest in his detailed lecture.

Din places the paper pamphlet in a storage pocket on his bandolier as Grogu watches closely.

“And the elevator?” Din asks not looking away from the old man.

"To the left of the fuel pump on the landing pad. Just remember to pay your respects to the Gods as you visit the—"

The old man's voice dwindled into the background as Din walked away from the building and back onto the landing pad. He made his way to the fuel pump and, as instructed, looked to the left to find a rickety-looking elevator, seemingly manually operated. The metal showed signs of rust in various spots, and the wire pulley appeared to be in need of greasing. The flooring of the elevator was a grate that revealed the ground thousands of feet below. Grogu emitted a series of frightened squeaks and coos as Din hesitantly stepped onto the grating.

"I know, kid… let's just... get down there," Din muttered through gritted teeth, steeling himself for the precarious descent.

Din's hand gripped the elevator crank tightly, his patience stretched thin as he began the painstakingly slow descent. Halfway through, he had to switch arms, the anger at the archaic contraption bubbling beneath his calm exterior. It was unusual for him to get frustrated with inanimate objects, but this elevator was testing his resolve. After what felt like an eternity, the elevator reached the bottom of the landing pad. With a forceful yank, Din opened the rusted gate, stepping onto soil that felt surprisingly soft underfoot, reminiscent of the sands on Tatooine, albeit less yielding.

The area below was like a forgotten tourist hub, the shops standing silent and forlorn, each manned by a lone shopkeeper who stared into the emptiness, boredom etched across their faces. It was a desolate sight, a place trying to be lively without the visitors to make it so.

Walking further, Din noticed a row of rusted speeder bikes, the rentals. His heavy boots left imprints on the sponge-like earth as he approached. A few of the shopkeepers stirred from their boredom at the sight of the silver-clad Mandalorian passing by.

Reaching the speeder rental, Din was met by an old Aqualish man, the grey of the hair surrounding his face telling tales of years of service.

"How much?" Din asked, his voice reflecting his growing impatience.

"Fifty credits," the Aqualish garbled back.

"Thirty-five," Din countered, his tone firm as he shifted his weight to one side. Grogu cooed softly from his sling, his wide eyes observing the bartering process.

The Aqualish nodded in agreement and walked away to retrieve the speeder keys.

As Din adjusted Grogu in the sling to access his credits, he caught sight of a couple approaching from the earthen road. The man carried a hefty pack on his back, and the woman cradled a baby in her arms. The pride in the man's eyes was evident as he helped his wife walk toward the shops.

"Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit!" the shopkeeper, an elderly woman across the street, shouted at them. The couple bowed softly in acknowledgment as they continued walking. Every shop they passed echoed the same foreign phrase, and Din watched with curiosity. Upon reaching the elevator, the man removed his pack, fashioning a makeshift seat for his wife as he started cranking the elevator back up to the top of the landing pad.

The sound of a throat clearing broke Din's concentration. The Aqualish man stood, hand outstretched, waiting expectantly for the payment. Din sighed inwardly, realizing he had been lost in his thoughts. He paid the credits and received the keys to the rusted speeder. Adjusting Grogu in the sling, ensuring the child was safely nestled in his lap, Din ignited the speeder and set off down the only trail leading out of the market.

The only path to the Mountain of Mothers.

—

The pain in your swollen belly intensified as you stood at the base of the last incline leading to the lower pool. The journey had taken a heavy toll on your body, leaving you exhausted and in constant discomfort. Your feet were swollen, your hips ached, and everything hurt, but the cramping in your abdomen was what worried you most. The night before, you had barely managed to rest, opting to lie on the soft ground without bothering with your bedroll. Restlessness had plagued you throughout the night, and now the cramping made it clear that your time was approaching.

Today would be your last day on this arduous journey. The lower pool was just above you, but the pain in your body seemed unbearable. You knew it was all part of the gods' plan for you, but you never expected the pain to be this intense.

As you struggled up the final incline, a sharp pain ripped through you, and you stumbled. Your pack felt impossibly heavy, and your breaths came short. Beads of sweat formed on your brow as a wall of rock loomed ahead of you.

"Itta non a dashi," (I will not die here) you whispered defiantly, mustering the strength from the deepest part of your being. As your emotions surged, you felt the baby shift within you. With renewed determination, you regained your balance, placing a loving hand on your swollen belly.

The next incline lay ahead, one of the most challenging parts of the journey. You could see evidence of past mothers who had slipped or stopped, their bones scattered in the crevices of the rock. For Illa-ishi, like yourself, the task was solitary, without the help of an Irrit to assist with the ascent.

You stood at the base of the rocky cliff, gazing up at the tantalizing promise of the lower pool. The rhythmic thunder of the waterfall beyond the peak urged you forward, swirls of steam rose into the air, a tantalizing promise of the lower pool just a short climb away.

Thankfully, the rugged rock face bore shelves that made the treacherous climb more bearable. Growing up you heard tales of a time a century past when an Irrit, a kind-hearted soul whose manna, a young woman, could not walk. In a display of unwavering determination and love, he took chisel and hammer in hand, carving these sturdy, stone steps into existence. With these ledges, he could secure her safely to his back and ascend the daunting precipice so she could birth their child.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you surveyed the ascent before you. The harsh sun beat down, casting long shadows across the rocky surface. Determination burned in your eyes as you figured out the best plan of action. With a surge of resolve, you slipped the heavy pack from your sweat-covered body, feeling an immediate relief as the oppressive weight fell off you and onto the gritty dirt below.

With your pack discarded, you dragged it to the base of the wall where the first of the man-made shelves jutted out, a mere foot of space cut into the unforgiving rock face. Despite the fatigue gnawing at your muscles, you carefully planted your foot on the ledge, finding just enough space to stand. Bending down carefully you pulled the pack onto the ledge beside your feet. Your birthing gown, gauzy and light, provided a surprising ease of movement. Once you’d made sure the pack was secure you looked up and examined the next shelf. It was a little high of a stretch but you gripped the wall above to steady yourself, your gown billowing slightly with the effort.

Your hips protested with each movement, but the primal instinct to survive drowned out the pain. With staggering determination, you raised your leg, using the hold of the wall to leverage yourself onto the rock shelf to the left. Your arms, weary but unyielding, lifted your body until you were safely on the shelf.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you glanced back down at the last shelf, now below you. Gathering remnants of your strength, you reached down, hands trembling slightly, and lifted your pack with both arms onto the shelf beside you. Only one more shelf remained, higher up and to your right, a final obstacle before hauling yourself onto the top of the cliff.

After a short rest, you locked eyes with the next shelf, determination burning in your gaze. With a swift motion, you reached up for a gap in the wall to get a grip. Sliding your right hand into the sharp crevice, you pulled with all your might, grunting with effort as you lifted your right leg onto the shelf, which was higher than the last. But in that moment of triumph, a sudden jolt of pain radiated from your lower back all the way to your fingertips, and you lost your hold, a gasp ripping through you.

Stumbling backward, you were saved only by your pack, which you used for leverage to steady yourself. The contraction was fierce, so intense that it was only when you absentmindedly touched the dress covering your belly that you realized you'd sliced your palm on the unforgiving rock. Scarlet red stained your gown, creating an almost perfect handprint. Oddly, you felt no pain in your hand, your senses consumed by the tightening in your abdomen, which worsened with every passing moment.

“Issa non a tishi noona..” (its not time yet baby) you groaned out in pain, your voice strained and breathless. Your eyes clenched shut as you tried to endure the relentless waves of agony.

You stood trembling on the shelf of the wall for a good minute or two before the contraction finally subsided, leaving you panting and exhausted. It was then that the sharp sting in your hand dominated your senses. You examined your hand, the crevice in the wall had sliced deep, and you could see the gash, making your stomach turn uneasily.

Reaching into your pack, you found the medipack, fingers trembling as you carefully opened it to retrieve the gauze and a bacta spray. With great care, you held your injured hand out in front of you and applied the bacta spray to the gash, wincing at the initial sting. Then, you gently wrapped the gauze around the wound, ensuring it was secure. The sharp pain began to dull as your trembling hand capped the spray, carefully returning it to the medipack.

With a sigh, you straightened up, taking a moment to regain your composure. The pain in your hand was no longer the foremost concern, and you couldn't let it distract you from the task at hand. You knew that each moment counted in this climb, and you needed to find the safest route to reach the next shelf.

Reassessing the situation, you examined the uneven rock wall before you, trying to identify the most secure handholds and footholds.

An idea crossed your mind and it could be great, or the worst idea ever and you could fall to your death but you were determined. You carefully maneuver around your pack and push it closer to the end of the shelf. You carefully placed a leg on the pack and then another, standing precariously on your pack which provided you almost a foot of extra height, you used the wall to steady yourself. You prayed to the Gods and reached with your right hand for the crevice that had so rudely marred your hand. Finding more traction with the gauze you confidently pulled yourself extending your right leg so your foot found purchase on the shelf. A victorious smile crossed your face as you then pushed off your pack with your left leg and hoisted yourself onto the shelf. A quiet laugh left your lips as you clung to the wall you were now facing.

Looking to your left, you bent down carefully to grab your pack. This shelf was a lot shorter, jutting from the wall maybe only eight inches. You had to precariously grab your heavy pack with one hand and quickly cram it under your left leg to prevent it from plummeting to the ground below.

You were so close now that you could feel the cool mist from the water above, and the deafening roar of the falls filled your ears. Perched roughly 15 feet above the ground, you took a moment to catch your breath. You dared not look down, fearing that it would disrupt your balance. Instead, you pressed your belly tightly against the rock wall in front of you, your heart pounding with both exertion and anticipation.

After a brief moment of rest, a surge of adrenaline coursed through you. This was it, the final leg of your treacherous journey. You had one more pull, one last push, and you would reach the lower pool, your goal within your grasp. But you also knew that a single mistake could lead to a disastrous fall, a fate you couldn't afford.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your arms above your head, your palms resting on the ridge above. With utmost care and precision, you hoisted yourself up, quickly placing both feet on your pack. The pack provided just enough height to get your elbows onto the smooth rock above. You pulled with every ounce of strength you had, feeling your belly scrape against the unyielding stone as you lifted.

Luck was on your side, as your feet managed to find a foothold through the worn leather of your boot. This newfound leverage allowed you to push yourself up, resembling a sea lion clambering onto a rocky outcrop. With sheer determination and the last vestiges of your strength, you quickly pulled your right leg under you and pushed yourself onto all fours on the smooth rock face. Your heart raced, your hands and knees trembling from the exertion, but you had made it. You had reached the final stretch of your perilous ascent, and the pool ahead awaited, a shimmering reward for your indomitable spirit.

A sob escaped your lips, a surge of emotion you hadn't anticipated as the reality of your accomplishment finally caught up with you. You had done it. You had managed to make it to the lower pool, and the inviting, milky-warm waters beckoned to soothe your weary body. Steam swirled around you, creating an ethereal atmosphere as you lay there, taking in the moment.

Rolling onto your back to face the sky, you watched as a giant silver ship soared high above the mountain. Your eyes followed it for a brief moment before it disappeared into the vast expanse of the blue sky. Tears welled up and trickled down your cheeks, their salty warmth mixing with the refreshing mist from the pool. You felt the gentle movements of the babe inside you and couldn't help but smile through your tears.

"Noona...we made it," you whispered in basic, your hand tenderly caressing your belly. The connection between you and the life within you was stronger than ever, a bond forged through this incredible journey.

After some time, you stirred, realizing that you needed to retrieve your pack. With some effort, the pack proved easier to handle than your own weight combined with the growing life inside you. You unzipped the pack and reached for your bedroll when another sensation, different from the earlier contractions, radiated through your core. This time, it felt like pressure, a clear sign that the moment you had been anticipating was drawing near.

After finding the bedroll, you took a moment to survey the area for a suitable spot to lay it down. The relatively flat rock surface encircling the spring was a dark black, a stark contrast to the frothy blue of the hot spring's waters. The ancient, tranquil pool was surrounded by old, tattered bedrolls, some empty, while others still held the silent remains of Illa-ishi who hadn't been as fortunate as you.

You sighed softly, the weight of the past and the solemnity of the place pressing down on you. You knew what lay beneath the surface of this hot spring – the resting places of those who had undertaken the same treacherous journey but hadn't emerged victorious. Out of respect for their memory, the people of Kith never dared to touch the remains. Instead, they left the bones where they lay, allowing them to become one with the planet's core, a final return to the world from which they had come.

Gently, you found a clear space amidst the bedrolls and laid down your own bedroll. It felt strange to rest among the remnants of those who had gone before you, but you also understood the significance of this place.

It was believed among your people that the Mountain of Mothers was the handiwork of the divine God of Kith, a deity whose love for his wife, Illa-ishi, was as vast as the universe itself.

Illa-ishi’s womb had cradled life for what seemed like an eternity and her body bore the weight of years, while her heart bore the burden of unbearable pain. Witnessing his beloved wife suffer, Kith, with his divine hands, crafted a pool at the mountain's base. Its waters held the promise of relief, a balm for Illa-ishi's agony.

While Kith labored tirelessly to raise the Mountain of Mothers, Illa-ishi, driven by a desperation born of unending torment, embarked on a solitary climb up its slopes. With each step, she ascended toward the heavens, seeking solace that seemed perpetually out of reach.

At the pinnacle of her journey, amidst the tranquil waters of the divine pool, Illa-ishi's child was born. Yet, there was no cry of life, no breath to fill the air. In a heart-wrenching moment, the lonely mother, overcome by despair, embraced the waters that had promised relief. She allowed herself to be consumed, seeking peace in the depths of the pool.

Kith, returning to find his wife and child lost to the pool’s embrace, was consumed by an anguish that eclipsed the stars. In his sorrow, he performed a deed both divine and sacrificial. In a resolute act, he harnessed the remnants of their life force, infusing it with the very essence of his divine being, and breathed life into the creation of the upper pool atop the Mountain of Mothers.

This upper pool, borne from his profound sacrifice, was destined to be a reward for those who completed the arduous journey together. It was a testament to the strength of unity, the enduring love that bound families and lovers, and the rewards that awaited those who surmounted the trials of life.

Yet, even in the splendor of his divine creation, Kith's sadness consumed him. He recognized the fundamental truth that Illa could not always survive, and that Noona may not always breathe. And so, the first pool, at the mountain's base, remained untouched, preserved as a sanctuary of rest and respect. A place where Illa-ishi, and Illa could find solace amidst the beauty of the Mountain of Mothers, where the waters whispered stories of love and sacrifice, and where their weary spirits could find respite beneath the endless expanse of the starlit sky.

In history there was only one illa-ishi who succeeded in birthing a breathing babe at the first pool, and she had birthed an evil so strong it was said to last generations.

You knew your heart, and you knew your babe. You had come here to rest.

—

The hike was hard. Din was breathing heavily under the weight of his armor and the burden of Grogu, who looked around the desolate landscape with a sad curiosity. How many skeletons had they passed? What kind of place was this? Why were you here? The guilt gnawed at him with each step he took. Why had he even gone to seek out pleasure from solitude in the first place? He thought back to that night…

The night was dark and heavy as Din sat alone in the dimly lit corner of the cantina in Mos Eisley, his thoughts consumed by a yearning for Grogu. The scorching sands of Tatooine outside were a harsh reminder of the precious time he had spent here with the child and Peli Motto. They had been moments of sanctuary, where the galaxy's chaos seemed miles away.

Nearly a year had passed since he'd entrusted Grogu to Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, a decision made with the best intentions. But that choice had left a void within him that he could hardly bear. Sleepless nights had become his constant companion, and the craving for both rest and peace had grown unbearable. And yet, he found himself agreeing to help Boba Fett in the midst of a brutal war, a commitment that seemed at odds with his desire for tranquility.

But in that cantina, he made a solemn decision. He had to seek out Grogu one last time, he had to give Grogu the chain mail that he had made for him. Just, as a way to protect him nothing more… He ran his fingers over its cool surface, a gesture that silently conveyed his unbreakable resolve before he pocketed the beskar.

As the night deepened and the alcohol flowed, he realized he had indulged in more Corellian Whiskey than he should have, knowing he needed a clear head for the journey that awaited him. But the whiskey's burn was a welcomed distraction, a temporary escape from the overwhelming pain of missing Grogu.

In the midst of his solitude, the cantina's atmosphere began to change. A group of scantily dressed women, draped in silks and adorned with gold, entered the establishment. They moved with grace and charisma, engaging patrons in conversation, flirting, and distributing holochips for a nearby pleasure house. Din snorted at the thought. When was the last time he even had time to fuck anything but his palm?

When was the last? He wondered trying to think back over the years since he’d acquired the responsibility of caring for Grogu.

Years. Actual, years.

In his inebriated state, Din found himself clutching the holochip, his steps unsteady as he navigated the narrow streets of Mos Eisley towards the establishment advertised on the chip. He had given in to a reckless impulse, fueled by a desire to escape the pain of missing Grogu, and a fleeting sense of excitement at the prospect of companionship, even if it was just for one night. The weight of the impending war, as Boba Fett had described it, loomed in his thoughts, and he couldn't help but wonder if this might be his last moment of solace.

Entering the dimly lit and shady establishment, he was met by a greasy, overweight man berating a young child. The sight of the child sent a wave of unease through him, casting a shadow over his already troubled conscience. What kind of place was this, where children were exposed to such depravity?

"Not for sale!" the greasy man barked at Din, as if reading some unsavory intent in the Mandalorian's eyes, he shielded the child, pushing her back behind a tattered curtain.

“I wasn’t…” Din’s words faltered, the very thought of such exploitation sickening him to his core.

But the foreman, undeterred, eyed Din up and down, his gaze lingering on the gleaming beskar armor. “You’ve got money, I’ve got girls,” the man said, his voice oozing with a repugnant confidence.

Din struggled to find the words, his thoughts a jumbled mess, still reeling from the shock of seeing a child in such a place. He stumbled, his voice faltering.

The foreman, undeterred, went on, "I have a girl who just became available. She's not been with anyone, you'd be lucky to find a deal like her on this side of Tatooine." He reached into a box of hologram pucks, selected one, and placed it on the desk. Activating the hologram, he presented it to Din.

Din's gaze fixated on the static image, his eyes locked on the visage.. Strangely, he felt a deep pull within him, as if your image was both familiar and enigmatic, stirring emotions he couldn't quite place.

"How much?" Din's voice, though filtered through his modulator, held a heaviness, a mix of curiosity and longing.

"Four thousand credits," the foreman stated, avarice evident in his words.

“Four?” Din repeated, incredulous, his disbelief met with a dismissive glance from the foreman. “How much does she get?” he demanded, his tone sharp and unwavering.

The foreman's look turned defensive, his response sharp, "Two thousand. My girls are lucky to get any at all."

Din's resolve hardened, and he leaned in, his voice taking on a threatening edge that he usually reserved for bounties. "I'll pay six thousand, and she gets four thousand."

The foreman's eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard, but a vile smirk soon crept across his face. "Deal. Right this way, sir," he beamed, all too eager to make the transaction.

The foreman led him through a maze of dimly lit hallways filled with disturbing moans and an overpowering, artificial perfume that hung heavily in the air. The cacophony of voices from behind the closed doors was a haunting reminder of the grim reality of this place, and the perfumed scent was a failed attempt at masking the despair that lurked within.

At the end of the corridor, the foreman unlocked a door and gestured for Din to enter. "I'll send her in," he grunted, closing the door behind Din.

Din stumbled into the room, the alcohol coursing through his veins, muddling his thoughts. He took in his surroundings, finding himself in a chamber that seemed a stark contrast to the rest of the establishment. A makeshift bed of luxurious pillows lay on the floor, richly woven tapestries hung from the ceiling, creating a semblance of privacy. Incense burned intensely, casting a hazy atmosphere, a chair rested by the door infront of a towering golden-framed mirror that rest to the right.

This must be a more expensive room, he thought, his mind reeling with the absurdity of it all. He couldn't help but question himself, wondering what he was truly doing here, and if this was the way he wanted to fill the void left by Grogu.

As the room's fakely lavish atmosphere weighed upon him, the door behind him swung open gently. He turned, his movements slow and heavy from his armor, to see you enter. Your form was meek, draped in a light blue silk garment that covered more of your body than the women he had seen in the cantina. Gold metal accents adorned your wrists, ankles, and neck, casting a subtle glow in the dim room.

Din's breath hitched as he observed you, his gaze tracing your figure from your feet to your face. Your flushed face and the nervous way you looked down at the floor beside him made it clear that you were unfamiliar with this line of work. He saw you absentmindedly running your index and middle finger along the material of your flowing skirt.

He couldn't explain it, but something about your vulnerability, the innocence you still carried despite the circumstances, touched him. For a moment, he entertained the thought that the foreman had lied about your experience, but as he watched you in silence, he knew that the greasy man's words were painfully accurate.

Din shifted slightly, causing your gaze to snap to him quickly. His visor concealed his expression, but his body language spoke volumes. He observed for another moment, considering his next move. Slowly, he began to remove his gloves. The process was deliberate, one finger at a time on the right hand of his glove, until he was able to pull it off, revealing his bare hand. His eyes never left yours as he started to work the other glove off, the tension in the room growing palpable.

Your gaze drifted from his visor to his hands, watching intently as the gloves came off. As soon as he removed the gloves, he walked to the chair by the door and set them down gently. Your gaze followed him as he approached, your hand never leaving the doorknob the entire time. It was as if you were waiting for him to make a move, to confirm the fear that had taken root in your heart.

Din stopped a few feet away from you, his gauntleted hand hanging by his side. There was something in his stance, a subtle softening in his normally rigid posture that made you feel he might not be the threat you initially perceived.

He straightened as he turned to face you, extending his tanned and calloused right hand as a peace offering. It hung there in the space between you, a bridge across the vast divide that had separated your worlds. The look you gave him that night pierced through his then-buzzed haze, and as your gaze moved from his visor to the palm of his outstretched hand, you ever so softly smiled.

Your hand moved slowly, with a slight tremble, as you placed it in his. Maker, it was so soft, so... loving. In a way, it reminded Din of his mother's hands. He remembered the feeling of her hands on his face when she would kiss him on the top of his head or brush his hair back. It was a memory buried deep, one he rarely let resurface in the harsh reality of his life.

He watched you, unknowingly holding his breath, as your eyes flitted from his hands back up to his visor.

That night was almost eight months ago, and in the span of those months, the galaxy had shifted beneath Din Djarin's feet. He had fought with Boba Fett, gotten Grogu back, found his covert and embarked on the perilous journey to reclaim Mandalore and his Mandalorian status. The weight of leadership, the responsibilities, and the relentless pursuit of his beliefs had clouded his thoughts, leaving little room for anything else.

As he walked through the dense forest, the guilt that had been gnawing at him grew ever more oppressive. He'd been so preoccupied with his own mission, his people's future, and the legacy of Mandalore that he hadn't even spared a thought in your direction. He had foolishly assumed that the foreman would handle any potential consequences of their night together, perhaps naively believing that you would choose to remain silent. However, what if you hadn't told the foreman? What if you carried something precious from that night, a part of him he was yet to know about? He had neither your name nor any means of contact, and that realization weighed him down like a camtono of beskar.

With every step, the burden of his guilt pressed down upon him, and he mentally berated himself for not knowing your name or sharing his. He deserved this guilt, for in his quest to rebuild his world, he had unintentionally left a piece of himself behind. If you were pregnant, how were you supposed to find him in the vastness of the galaxy? He couldn't shake the thought that he might be a father, and yet he had no way to reach out to you.

Lost in thought and oblivious to his surroundings, Din hadn't even realized that he'd strayed from the trail until a blood-curdling scream pierced through the forest's silence, shattering the walls of his introspection. His eyes darted ahead, and the only thing he saw beyond the thick undergrowth was a rocky precipice. Steam rose from somewhere below, and the scream, unmistakably human, sent a chill down his spine.

—

After doing your best to set up a makeshift camp amidst the unforgiving terrain, the contractions began to increase in intensity and frequency. Drenched in sweat, your body ached with fatigue, and desperation for the comfort of the hot spring surged within you. In your birthing gown, you summoned every ounce of strength to embark on the journey toward the soothing waters.

With slow, measured steps, you made your way to the spring, determined to find solace amidst the throes of labor. The contractions continued to grip you, and you fought to maintain your composure, focusing on deep breaths as you moved closer to the source of relief.

As you neared the milky waters, the soothing sound of the waterfall dumping cool water into the far end of the pool filled your ears. The natural geothermal heat emanated from the earth beneath the water, warming the fresh, chilly stream. You gingerly lowered yourself to the spring's edge, wincing through the persistent contraction that clawed at your strength.

With immense effort, you managed to sit on the edge of the pool, your feet dipping into the perfectly warm water. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as the soothing waters enveloped your aching limbs. Slowly, you eased yourself into the warm embrace of the spring, its shallowness just deep enough for you to sit comfortably, your head above the waterline.

The warmth cocooned you, providing the much-needed respite your weary body craved. In the midst of your struggle, the hot spring became a sanctuary, a place where the pain of labor met the healing balm of nature, and for a fleeting moment, you found solace amidst the turmoil, embracing the precious gift of warmth and comfort in the midst of the wilderness.

You had lost track of how long you sat in the soothing water, your fingers pruning as the serene ambiance of the hot spring washed over you. Contented sighs intermittently left your lips as you found a momentary respite from the relentless contractions. The world around you seemed to blur as the hot spring cradled you in its gentle embrace.

But all too soon, your tranquility shattered like fragile glass. A pained cry tore through the rocky landscape. Your eyes shot open, searching for the source of the distress.

Your gaze darted towards the rugged ridge you had labored to climb mere hours earlier. Two voices reached your ears, one male and one female, carrying on the wind. Panic surged through you as you observed a hand ascending the top of the ridge. Your heart quickened, and you realized there were people approaching, their presence entirely unexpected.

With haste, you sprung up from your spot in the spring, water cascading off your birthing gown as you clambered to the edge of the pool.

A man, seemingly oblivious to your presence, ascended the ridge, a pack strapped to his back. He reached the flat rock and extended his hand below him. Your bare feet met the cold, rough surface of the gravely rock as you hurried over to the edge, your heart heavy with empathy for the woman in dire need. Down below, on the third rock shelf, you saw a woman, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her birthing gown stained with the evidence of her struggles.

“Isa a happis” (I will help!) you called out, your voice resolute, your determination evident. You easily crouched down next to the man, extending your hand to the one who was suffering. She gazed up at you, gratitude filling her eyes as she grasped your outstretched hand.

“Ona tice!” (On Three!) The man standing beside you declared, his voice strong and determined. You locked eyes with him, sharing the gravity of the situation, and both of you prepared to pull the distressed woman to safety. With a shared resolve, he began to count down, and on three, you pulled the woman up with surprising ease, your muscles working in harmony to lift her to safety.

Wide-eyed, she arrived at the top of the landing, blood staining her birthing gown, a visceral testament to the life that sought to enter the world. She cried out in agony, her body in the throes of birthing pains. Your attention shifted to the Illit, his face etched with desperation as he removed his pack, his hands trembling as he tried to assist his manna.

He grabbed her, his touch gentle yet urgent, realizing that there was no time to lose. Even as you watched, you could tell the baby was coming, the process inevitable now. The woman screamed, the sound echoing off the rocky walls, a symphony of pain and life in the midst of nature's raw beauty.

“Noona essa comesei ittina!” (the babe is coming now!) you urgently announce, your voice steady and commanding, as you motion for the father to cease his movements. He gazes at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and sadness, the emotions palpable in the misty air.

Your own contractions, once so overwhelming, are now distant memories as you shift your focus entirely to the woman and her impending delivery. You position yourself between the woman's legs, and she leans back on her husband for support, the bond of love and trust between them evident in the way they clung to each other during this moment.

With gentle but purposeful hands, you begin to move the gauze of her birthing dress out of the way, revealing the sacred space where the new life is making its entrance into the world. The sight fills you with a profound sense of awe and wonder, the beauty of life in its most raw and unadulterated form.

As you catch the first glimpse of the emerging baby, a smile naturally graces your lips, a radiant reflection of the profound beauty you are about to witness. You look up at the father, sharing a moment of unspoken understanding and connection as you prepare to assist in guiding their child into the world, an act of grace in the heart of nature's splendor.

“Noona essa comesei! Attari noona bassi?” (The baby is coming, the baby cloth?) you urgently conveyed to the father, the intensity of the moment hanging heavy in the air. He blinked, momentarily caught in the whirlwind of emotions before comprehending your words. With careful haste, he gently leaned his wife back, supporting her amidst the agonizing pains as he reached for his pack against the wall.

Desperation etched on his face, he hurriedly threw various items from the bag, scattering them around in his search for the baby cloth. Every passing second felt like an eternity as the mother cried out in pain, her body instinctively bringing forth the baby as your hand supported its head.

Finally, after emptying the entire bag, the Illit father's shoulders slumped in defeat. His frustration boiled over, and he struck the rock wall with his fist, a primal cry of helplessness escaping his lips.

In the midst of this despair, you remained calm, your instincts taking over.

“Asa Passi! Attara noona bassi!” (In my pack! I have the baby cloth!) you shouted at the father, your voice carrying the urgency of the moment. With a quick motion, you pointed to your own pack, signaling where the much-needed baby cloth could be found. Your other hand remained cradling the head of the newborn, offering support and comfort to the laboring mother.

You ran a soothing hand over her leg as she summoned her last ounce of strength, pushing with all her might, and then, in a powerful moment, the babe broke free into the world. The father, having located the cloth meant for your own child in your pack, rushed over, his eyes wide with anxiety. You accepted the plain cloth from him, wasting no time in wrapping the baby in it.

The newborn lay still and silent, not letting out the expected cries that heralded a new life. A sense of despair washed over you, and you shared a helpless glance with the father, both of you fearing the worst.

The mother's wails of agony resonated in the rugged landscape, echoing the heartbreak of a life not granted breath. The anguish in the air was suffocating as she reached for her still baby, her hands trembling. With a heavy heart, you gently transferred the infant to the mother's waiting arms.

She cradled her lifeless child, tears streaming down her face as she caressed the baby, whispering soft words of love and heartbreak. Her cries mingled with those of her husband as they shared the unbearable moment of loss.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tore yourself away from the heart-wrenching scene of the manna. You felt a surge of emotions, a profound sense of hopelessness, reminiscent of the day you had received the news of your own pregnancy.

—

The anguished screams pierced the rugged terrain, reverberating through the rocky expanse, and Din felt his heart plummet through the soles of his boots. Grogu, sensing the turmoil in the air, cooed softly from the safety of his sling, nestled beneath Din's protective hand.

Carefully and quietly, Din approached the edge of the rocky ridge, his heart pounding with trepidation. As he looked down into the precipitous drop-off, his eyes fell upon a scene that nearly froze his heart in his chest.

Down below, amidst the harsh and unforgiving black surface of the rocky cavern, he saw you kneeling, a stoic presence, between the legs of a pregnant woman who was hemorrhaging profusely. The woman's anguished cries filled the cavern, echoing against the unforgiving walls.

Din's eyes then shifted to a man, who appeared to be the woman's partner, desperately rummaging through a pack, panic etched across his face. You spoke urgently in a language Din didn't understand, the words punctuated by fear and sorrow. The man seemed to heed your words and swiftly abandoned his fruitless search, rushing over to another pack that lay nearby. The man retrieved a gray cloth from the second pack and hurriedly approached where you were crouched.

Din observed, his eyes transfixed, as you, kneeling on the rocky cavern floor, expertly assisted the pregnant woman. With a mix of awe and sadness, he saw you pull a beautiful, newborn baby from the crying mother, delicate and fragile in your hands.

His gaze lingered as you carefully, almost mournfully, opened the grey cloth. To his dismay, he recognized the symbol displayed on it – a mudhorn. It was the very same symbol etched onto his own pauldron, the only identifier that you could tie to him. He watched as you used the cloth meant for your child, his child, to wrap the now purple baby in the blanket with meticulous care.

Cries and sobs filled the air as he watched from his hidden spot on the high cliff above. His sounds were likely muffled by the nearby waterfall, but he felt Grogu pulling at him, desperate for attention. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to look away. He continued to watch, hidden in the shadows.

He observed as you struggled to stand, your belly full with his child, and as you respectfully walked away to what he could now confirm as your pack. He could see the pain etched on your face, the tears in your eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt deep within him. The weight of his past actions pressed heavily on his shoulders.

Din had done a lot of things he wasn't proud of; he'd walked a dark and treacherous path. He had hated himself when he handed Grogu over to the client for a camtono of beskar, but now, seeing you here, in this vulnerable moment, he hated himself more than he had ever thought possible.

The symbol on that blanket, the mudhorn, was a reminder of the choices he had made and the lives he had affected. As he watched you cry softly, he knew he couldn't change the past, but he could choose a different path now, one that might bring redemption and peace.

—

Hours passed by as the mother and her lifeless baby lay on the rocky outcrop. The father, now solemn and determined, prepared the pack for their descent. He spared you a thankful glance as he gently helped the mother stand, their shared grief connecting them. With cautious and uneasy steps, they began their descent down the cliffside.

The mother cradled her unbreathing babe, her heart heavy with loss, as she slowly made her way towards you. With some effort, you rose to your feet and met her halfway. Tears welled up in your eyes as she kissed your cheeks in gratitude.

“Illa-ishi, missa.” (Lonely mothers, sisters.) she said mournfully, her words heavy with the weight of shared sorrow. She placed a gentle hand on your belly, a silent acknowledgment of your pain. Overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment, you couldn't hold back a sob, and the two of you embraced tightly. In that moment, she became your sister in grief, and your shared loss bound you together in a way that words couldn't express.

As she and her husband began their descent, you watched them with a heavy heart. The blanket you had intended for your own child now wrapped around her lifeless baby, providing some small comfort in their time of mourning.

Left alone once more, you couldn't hold back your tears as you watched the husband carefully guide his grieving wife down the steep cliff and out of sight. As they disappeared from your view, a profound sense of isolation settled over you, and you wept softly, your heart heavy with sorrow.

Returning to the healing waters, you couldn't help but notice that your contractions had inexplicably ceased. Confused but hopeful, you gently felt around your belly and were met with a delicate, reassuring movement from within. A smile, albeit a tearful one, graced your face as you carefully lowered yourself back into the pool, ready to embrace whatever destiny the Gods had in store for you.

The sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape. From your elevated position, you had a perfect view of the sky as it transformed into a breathtaking canvas of purple, pink, and orange ribbons. As you smiled to yourself, entranced by the beauty of nature, an unusual sound suddenly pierced the tranquility of the moment, snapping your attention to the cliff edge. Your heart raced as you strained to identify the source of this unexpected disturbance, a sense of both trepidation and curiosity gripping you.

As if by magic, a form suddenly flipped up onto the solid ground level with the pool. A small, green being emerged, making noises that were nearly drowned out by the roar of the waterfall. Yet, an overwhelming feeling of joy washed over you as you beheld the sight of this tiny creature toddling towards you.

Driven by curiosity and amazement, you pushed yourself up and out of the water. Your birthing gown clung to your body as you moved, but you paid it no mind. Stepping onto the rock, you slowly rounded the corner of the pool to greet the small being.

To your astonishment, you realized it was a baby, with wide, innocent eyes and a furious babble. The baby lifted its tiny hands towards you, and you couldn't help but crouch down as best you could, your heart filled with warmth. "Noona?" you asked the little creature with a soft, amused laugh. In response, the tiny being gave you a toothy grin, and it made you laugh even more.

Your attention, however, shifted from the small being to a pair of gloved hands gripping the side of the rocky cliff. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized those gloves, and heat rushed into your face. With wide eyes, you watched as a figure clad in silver beskar, a Mandalorian, lifted themselves effortlessly over the cliff face and stood there with an almost regal grace.

From your crouched position, you observed as the green baby waddled over to the Mandalorian and tugged on his shin armor. The Mandalorian, with his helmeted face turned towards the child, bent down to pick up the little one, and you couldn't hide the confusion that replaced your initial joy.

—

Din's eyes remained locked on your form as he swiftly pulled himself up onto the flat surface of the cliff. He saw you kneeling down, fingers outstretched towards Grogu, the shock etched across your face. But his gaze was drawn irresistibly to the wet dress that clung to your swollen belly, a stark reminder of your impending motherhood.

As he felt Grogu tugging at his shin armor, he silently bent down to pick up the child. Still, his eyes remained fixed on you, and he struggled to find the right words to explain this unexpected reunion.

“I... I had a dream,” he finally managed to say, his voice choked with emotion.

Your eyes softened, and he witnessed your composure crumbling before him. Your confused and shocked expression melted into a soft frown as tears welled up in your eyes. Before he fully registered it, his feet carried him closer, and he knelt down in front of you with Grogu still cradled in his arms. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, hoping to offer some form of reassurance.

"Please... don't cry," he implored softly, the tenderness in his voice evident. However, he watched as you recoiled from his touch, your reaction sharp and violent, like a wounded animal cornered in fear.

—

"Don't cry," his voice was a gentle whisper from behind as he reached out to sweep your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with his left hand. His thumb, soft and reassuring, brushed away a solitary tear that had collected in the corner of your eye, preventing it from descending down your cheek.

The cold, unyielding embrace of his armor pressed against your back, a constant reminder of his presence, as if he permeated every inch of the room. You lay face down on the makeshift bed within the opulent suite, placed there by him in silence. His helmet tucked against the back of your head as his right hand reached around the front of your body to work open your tight entrance. He smelled like musk, metal, and something floral.

You didn't know his name, and in truth, you knew very little about him. All you knew was that he had paid a considerable sum for your services and bore a mudhorn symbol on his pauldron. The hushed whispers from the other women in the establishment painted a picture of a bounty hunter, a formidable figure who held the favor of the new Daimyo. He was a source of fear and fascination, and the idea of him both terrified and intrigued you. But, above all, you craved freedom more than anything else, and this was a means to an end.

As the moments unfolded, you couldn't hold back the tears that escaped, mingling with a confusing mix of emotions. It wasn't bad; he wasn't unkind. In fact, you found him surprisingly polite. He had said nothing, just removed his gloves and led you to the makeshift bed, where he now pressed into your body from behind.

It felt fine, maybe even surprisingly good, but your stubbornness held strong. You were determined not to give the foreman the satisfaction of knowing you enjoyed the path you had chosen to earn your freedom. The thought of succumbing to pleasure and surrendering to the moment felt like weakness, and you clung to your resolve with unwavering determination.

However, as his fingers moved softly, so softly, you couldn't help but feel your resistance slowly crumbling. Each touch was skillful, and the sensations they evoked were impossible to ignore.

You could feel a pleasure building within you as he continued his careful thrusting into your tightness. His thick fingers curled slightly as his thumb worked your clit. His left hand rests by your head as he made sure to move any hair out of your face. You had no idea if he was watching you through his visor, but you had assumed so because he wiped your tears and told you not to cry. The build up turned into a tightness that needed to be released, he could tell by how hot you’d gotten under him and how your walls fluttered on his fingers.

He felt a pride well up in him at the knowledge that he still had the ability to bring a woman pleasure but also that you’d finally relaxed enough to allow yourself to feel this. He closed his eyes for a moment just to focus on how your walls felt around his fingers, he willed himself to listen to your body. Upon each drawback of his fingers he worked to spread your tight cunt just slightly- three, four, five more thrusts of his fingers and he felt you tremble under him.

His eyes snapped open, and he observed you biting your hand to stifle any sounds. He felt the flutter of your walls on his fingers as he stilled in order to relish in the feel your softness. He watched you come back from wherever you had gone in your high, his hand moving gently to caress the hand you had bitten, the teeth marks already leaving a faint purplish hue. As his thumb brushed over the marked area, he felt the slight tremor in your body, your vulnerability laid bare, and saw the glistening tears welling up in your eyes once more.

“Don’t cry.” he said again before moving to sit back on his heels. He admired your form, the way the flame lit room made your skin look like silk. You were totally bare to him, he’d undressed you slowly and carefully placed your clothing next his gloves on the chair. He was still fully clothed save for the gloves he’d removed. He watched as your form began to stir, and he carefully placed a hand on your lower back to keep you down. You immediately complied. With a sigh he slowly ran his hand down your back to the curve of your ass and to the back of your thigh. He could see the slick from your arousal glimmering in the soft light.

He could see everything, every intimate part of you, and yet he didn’t allow you the joy of seeing him. He couldn’t.

You sat, staring at the wall ahead of you, the seconds feeling like hours, with him seated behind you. The situation was embarrassing, and you could only hope he wasn't disgusted. You had assumed he was finished with you after whatever had just happened, only to be gently pushed back onto the bed, not harshly but rather in a silent, pleading manner. After a moment, you heard him stir behind you, and you froze, your ears attuned to his every movement.

You heard a soft rustling of fabrics and buckles. He came to rest on you again, with his left hand resting by your left hand. His right hand gripped your waist as he shifted you back towards him. This position shifted you more so your backside was resting against his thighs while your chest was flush with the pillows beneath you. He was able to bend over you more like this so he comfortably rested on his left arm above you.

His right hand left your waist and you felt the warmth of his hand in between your legs. You could feel the soft head of his hard cock turn to velvet as he ran it through your slick folds. You clenched the pillow underneath you as you braced yourself for the pain the other women had told you about. You felt pressure against your entrance and instinctively you tried to move away only to feel his hand move like lightning from between your thighs to your waist as he anchored you in place.

He didn’t say anything just held you there as he slowly pushed the head of his cock deeper into your entrance. His grip once iron on your waist turned soft as his thumb brushed circles into the skin there. Slowly he sank deeper and that’s when you felt it, the sharp uncomfortable sting. You tensed under him at the pain and you felt him freeze above you. His left hand moved to grab your face beneath him, turning your cheek so he could see you. You looked over your left shoulder to peer up at him, his cold visor returning your gaze. You couldn't help the tear that fell as you clutched the pillows.

"Don't..." his voice was strained through the vocoder, and you knew he was holding back, for you.

—

"Do not say that to me!" Your pained and thickly accented voice ripped through the air as you swatted his arm away. The green child yelped softly at your sudden movement.

Din's eyes widened. It was the first thing you had said to him. You hadn't spoken a word that night. He recoiled from you in shame.

He watched as you cried, emotions swirling within him like a chaotic storm.

"You shouldn't be out here," he managed to say as he stood abruptly, his words tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration. He glanced around, finally taking in the grim surroundings. Blood still pooled on the rocky ground where the woman had given birth earlier. Even worse, the remains of skeletons lay strewn about, their shattered bones mixed with the gravel under his boots.

"This is a graveyard, not a place for a woman in your condition to give birth," he grumbled, regretting the harshness of his words. The eerie desolation of this place was overwhelming, and he couldn't make sense of anything. The grim reality of death and birth intertwined in this forsaken corner of the galaxy was too much for him to bear.

Your face, your soft, beautiful, and glowing face looked up at him then.

"This is where I am meant to be," your broken voice hit him right in the chest.

For a moment, Din just stood there, his helmeted gaze locked on you. Grogu stirred in his arms and he set the child down. His gaze shifted from Grogu to the pack leaning against the rocky wall, the very same pack he had seen a man carrying at the market, with his wife in tow. It was the same pack he had witnessed being carried by the man who was desperate, carrying his bleeding wife. The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place in Din's mind.

"Did you... carry that alone?" he asked, his curiosity piqued as he looked from you to the pack and back.

You huffed, annoyance coloring your features, and moved to stand. Din instinctively reached out to help you, but you swatted his hand away. You stood, resolute, and locked eyes with him through his visor.

"Yes. I am illa-ishi," you declared firmly, your words laden with meaning.

Din furrowed his brow, confused by the unfamiliar term. "Illa-ishi?" he repeated, the word alien to him.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized he didn't understand. "I am a lonely mother," you tried to find the right words that could translate to Basic.

He continued to stare, his helmet giving away nothing. You huffed in frustration and attempted again, simplifying your words. "I am alone." you finally settled on, hoping he would grasp the essence of your situation.

Din just stared at you, seemingly uncomprehending. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and the green child peered up at you, as if offering a sympathetic glance. Frustrated with the language barrier, you turned to walk towards your pack and bedroll.

As you began to walk away, Din's gloved hand gently gripped your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. You shot an annoyed look back at him, silently demanding an explanation for his actions.

Din's gloved thumb moved soothingly circles on your arm, his gaze locked on you. He took a moment to search for the right words, his voice barely rising above a gravelly whisper.

"Is...is this mine?" he questioned, his words weighted with uncertainty, his voice low and husky.

Your eyes fixated on his hand caressing your arm, and tears welled up again, threatening to break free. You bit your lip in a futile attempt to hold them back, forcing yourself to look directly into the reflective visor of his helmet. You saw your own tear-streaked face in the cold, mirrored surface of the Mandalorian's armor, and it was a sight that turned your stomach.

"Yes. I've... never been with another. Only you," the confession tumbled from your lips, the words feeling strange and heavy in your mouth. Your body tensed, and you felt a sudden, sharp tightness envelop you, a contraction, your first since the bleeding mother had shown up. You gasp in agony as your knees buckle under you.

"Dank farrik!" Din's initial worry had given way to frustration as he cursed under his breath. He reached out and grabbed you, his gloved hands steadying you gently while Grogu made a sad noise from his perch on the ground.

"We have to get you out of here. Is there a medcenter near here?" His voice trembled with desperation as he crouched down to meet your gaze.

"What?!" You hissed exasperatedly through the pain, your frustration and agony making you bristle.

"Medcenter!" Din almost yelled, and his eyes widened when you shoved him away.

"Issa noona ibaniss a plantissia ata mountina as illa! As illa a ma a iss!" you shouted at him in anguish, your words foreign to his ears but laced with undeniable determination. (My baby will be born on this planet, at the Mountain of Mothers, like my mother and the one before her!)

Din stood there, still as stone, as your scream washed over him.

He looked at you, his gaze falling to your trembling hands, one of them wrapped in blood-soaked gauze. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself and regain control.

He was going about this the wrong way. You had climbed the treacherous cliff, your cloth bore the sigil of the Mudhorn, and your pack was identical to the ones the men had carried. You had a well-thought-out plan; he just hadn't been part of it.

With newfound determination, he approached you, taking careful, measured steps. Kneeling down beside you, he spoke softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"How do I help you?" he asked, his words breaking through the haze of pain that enveloped you.

You slowly looked up at him through your tears, your eyes locked onto his helmet. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, your mouth slightly ajar as you processed the situation. With a trembling hand, you pointed towards the spring nearby. "Take me there," you said softly, your voice heavy with the weight of your suffering.

In an instant, Din's strong hands found purchase under your knees and behind your back, and he lifted you with great care, not wanting to cause you any harm. You flushed with the ease of him carrying you, a thought flickering across your mind of how much simpler scaling the cliff might have been if he had been there. But you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, focusing on the immediate task at hand. You wrapped your left arm around the back of his neck and placed your right hand protectively over your belly, the hard surface of his armor uncomfortably pressing against your side as he carried you toward the inviting hot spring.

"I can go from here," you said in thick, broken Basic, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

Din regarded you, confusion clear in his eyes as he tried to understand. His gaze alternated between the steaming water and your face. "You want to go in the water?" he asked, as if seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I can go from here," you repeated, pushing against him with a touch of defiance. His grip tightened, surprising you with its strength, and you nearly yelped in response. Shooting him a displeased look, you tried to assert your independence.

"What, and let you slip?" he asked, gazing at you through his visor before looking ahead. "No." He had made up his mind, and there was no arguing with the Mandalorian's decision.

As you were lowered into the hot spring, the initial shock of the water's heat gave way to a soothing relief. Din was surprised by how inviting it felt, and he understood why pregnant women sought refuge in such places. The water enveloped his boots and rose just above his knees as he carried you into the pool. You held onto him with a newfound intensity as he descended, afraid that he might lose his footing. Your disbelief mixed with gratitude as you realized the extent of his support.

Finding solid ground beneath the water, Din gently released your knees, allowing your feet to dip into the warm embrace of the pool. His hand slid from your back to your waist, ensuring your stability, and he positioned himself behind you in the water. You stood just below his chin, and if he desired, he could easily rest his chin on your head. His right hand remained on your waist, his gloved fingers splayed out on your side, providing you with a reassuring and protective presence.

A powerful surge of emotion overcame Din as he felt the subtle movements of the life within you under his fingertips. He stood there, motionless and transfixed, as you faced away from him, both of you submerged in the comforting warmth of the spring. His eyes traced the contour of your back, the gentle rise and fall as you breathed, and then slowly, as if compelled by an invisible force, he found himself resting his forehead against the back of your head, his helmet touching your soft hair.

He grappled with where to place his left hand, uncertain of the right way to provide comfort. His gaze drifted downwards, fixating on the water where he saw your dress floating softly as it began to soak in the pool. Carefully, he moved his left hand to the small of your back, gripping the back of your waist with a gentle touch.

In the midst of his turmoil, a soft, barely audible sob escaped his lips, and tears welled up inside his helmet, tracing their way down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he uttered, his voice broken and full of guilt. It was a plea for forgiveness, an attempt to convey the overwhelming regret that consumed him. He clung to your form, feeling the life inside you, the life he had a part in creating and then abandoned.

His wallowing in self-recrimination was shattered by the sound of your voice and the tender touch of your hand as it caressed his right hand.

"Don't cry," your words were soft and filled with sincerity. In that moment, as the tears flowed within his helmet, you offered him understanding and forgiveness. He felt worthy of neither.

#din djarin x pregnant reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian #mando x reader #star wars #star wars the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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mikavlcs · 1 year

Text

Rebels and Renegades

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.

Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc

Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)

Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.

See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.

Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.

This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.

It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.

The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.

But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.

Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.

You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).

Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it.

Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever.

Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.

Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…

You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.

It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.

So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.

Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.

You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.

Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.

“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”

The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.

Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.

Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.

You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”

You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.

For fun.

Again, you nodded. You could respect that.

“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.

Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.

Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.

You pointed to him below. “How about him?”

Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.

The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.

“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”

He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.

Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.

The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.

Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.

It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.

Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.

For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.

Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.

Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.

The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.

“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”

He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.

“Wednesday Addams?!”

Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.

“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”

His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.

You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”

He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.

“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”

Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”

Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.

The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.

It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.

“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”

Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.

Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”

She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.

“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”

Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.

“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”

Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.

“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”

Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”

Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.

“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”

Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.

“Be back at the dorm by 7.”

With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.

Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”

Thing said nothing.

You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!

But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.

Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.

First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.

Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.

Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.

Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.

And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.

Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.

She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.

Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.

So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?

You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.

And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.

At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.

Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.

Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.

The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.

“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”

He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.

“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”

He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.

The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.

But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?

The results though, were much more interesting.

For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.

Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.

Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.

“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.

She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.

“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”

Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”

Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.

“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.

You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.

Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.

“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.

It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?

Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.

You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”

The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.

“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”

Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.

“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.

Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”

Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.

“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”

Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.

You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.

You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.

Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.

Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.

Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.

There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.

You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.

“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”

“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.

“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.

“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.

“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.

“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”

Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”

A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.

“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.

“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”

The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.

“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”

Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”

You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.

“Uh—”

“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”

The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.

So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.

Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.

“So I just…”

You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.

Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.

Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.

“Holy shit!”

“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”

“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”

You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”

Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.

Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.

Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.

Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.

“Is this what you stole?”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”

Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”

She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.

“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”

You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”

She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.

“No.”

“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”

Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”

Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.

“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.

Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.

Why had she let you come anyways?

There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.

And yet, she had allowed you to come along.

Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.

It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.

And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.

The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.

Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.

“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”

Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.

Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.

“I don’t hate you.”

She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.

“I despise you. There’s a difference.”

Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.

She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.

Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.

“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.

At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.

Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.

She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.

As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”

“Correct.”

That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.

“What do you say we get a little revenge?”

“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.

You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”

You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.

Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.

Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.

Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.

Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.

However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.

A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.

A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.

She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.

(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?

She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)

Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.

Part of her didn’t want to anyway.

Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.

“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.

Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.

“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”

“A thesaurus?”

You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”

“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”

“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”

Your smile widened.

Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”

“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”

She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.

The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.

Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.

It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.

Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.

You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).

Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.

An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.

Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.

Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.

As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.

In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.

Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.

Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.

That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.

As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.

And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close).

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega #quality is 2/10 but fun factor is 9/10 #at least for me idk

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autumnscribbles · 10 months

Text

lost | c.b

summary: you convince colby to finally let you join an adventure, but what was supposed to be a fun night takes a wrong turn.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none really?

a/n: my first colby imagine!!! i absolutely loved writing this and getting back into the fandom so i hope y’all like it! feel free to send more requests :) it ended up being pretty long and probably not my best work but it was so fun anyway!! hope you enjoy lemme know!

“Pleeeeease can I come babe?” you begged, pouting as you stood in front of Colby as he was packing his camping equipment.

“Y/n I really don’t want anything to happen to you,” he sighed. “It could be dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine!” you reassured him. “I’ve gone camping lots of times, plus I’ll be with the pros.”

“Yeah man, let her come!” Sam piped up from behind you. You turned around and grinned at him, knowing that he would be on your side.

“Fine,” Colby sighed, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Only because I can’t say no to that face.”

You felt a mix of nervousness and excitement as Colby pulled over the car, ready to go set up your camp site. It was also your first time in a Sam and Colby video, and you were excited to have this new experience documented so well.

You guys all began pulling the camping equipment out of the trunk. Thankfully, it was still light outside so you weren’t feeling too spooked yet. You had never had a paranormal encounter yourself but after being with Colby for so long, you couldn’t quite say you didn’t believe in it. You felt yourself feeling jumpy at every small sound, and the boys found it quite amusing.

“Guys, as you can see, Y/n is not used to being in haunted forests,” Sam laughed, pointing the camera at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you laughed. “Once I get into the swing of things I’m gonna be tougher than all of you.”

The boys laughed as you began to walk down the narrow path to try and find a good place to set up camp. The boys pointed out a nice area and you all began setting up the tents. You had to admit, you weren’t the best at it, so the boys did most of the work. Once they had set the tents up, you crawled into yours and placed down the sleeping bags, pillows, and backpacks you brought.

“Are you sure you don’t want to all sleep in the same tent, Sam?” you asked.

“Depends how scared I get,” he chuckled. “But if you hear me crawling into your tent in the middle of the night, you’ll know why.”

Once you had set up camp, you guys decided to explore the forest a little. It was starting to get dark, and you felt the eeriness hovering around you. You jumped slightly as you heard a low, growling noise.

“Did you hear that?” you asked, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” Colby chuckled nervously. “Was that an animal or a person?”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” you laughed. “Let’s keep going, didn’t you guys say there’s a cabin in these woods somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where it is relative to where we’re standing now though,” Sam replied, looking around as if that would give him a clue.

You walked around the forest for a while, but decided you’d save searching for the cabin another day since you currently didn’t know where it was and it was getting dark. Eventually, you made your way back to the tents and decided to take it easy the rest of the night.

You lay in the tent, Colby’s arm wrapped around you, your hood pulled up over your head to keep warm.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Not too scared?”

“I’m fine,” you smiled. “It hasn’t been too scary yet minus a few weird noises we’ve heard while walking around.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours gently. “Try to get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow.”

You nodded as you curled into him, trying to warm up. The nights felt very cold in the tent, but luckily for you Colby was a great heater when you were cold. You tried not to focus too hard on every little sound around you, and eventually dozed off.

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You jumped slightly, rummaging for it beside you. By the time you found it, the ringing stopped. It was probably nothing. As you tried to go back to sleep, you felt like you needed to pee. You sighed, pulling your shoes on to leave the tent. You felt nervous, and debated waking Colby up, but decided against it. You weren’t going to go far, and it would only take a minute.

You unzipped the tent quietly, walking off just past the tents to go to the bathroom, when you heard a sound beside you. You looked over, not seeing anything in the pitch black. You heard a whisper, and approaching sounds of leaves and branches cracking. You tried to call for Colby, but your voice was only a whisper. When you felt something graze your arm, you took off running. You didn’t have time to scream, or call for Colby or Sam, your instincts told you to just run as fast as you possibly can.

You were out of breath and finally slowed down, but now you had absolutely no idea where you were. Your adrenaline was so high, that you didn’t even take a mental note of how to get back to the camp site. You pulled out your phone, turning the flashlight on to hopefully find the main path again. You felt terrified. You jumped at every small noise, scared that whatever touched you would come back. You started to wonder if there was anything at all, or if your fear made things up. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, feeling stupid. Why didn’t you just wake up Colby? Why didn’t you scream instead of taking off? What if you never got back?

You tried screaming their names, but you had no idea how far you were. If they could even hear you, especially if they were asleep. Your phone didn’t have service now, despite the strange phone call from earlier. You wanted to be strong, so you started walking, hoping to god you weren’t going even further from the boys.

Colby jolted awake, unsure what it was that stirred him from his surprisingly peaceful sleep. When he reached over to cuddle you, he was met with nothing but your empty sleeping bag.

“Y/n?” he whispered.

He put on his shoes and got out of the sleeping bag, hoping he’d find you nearby. When he didn’t see you, his heart began racing, his breathing quickening.

“Sam?” he called, running over to his tent and beginning to unzip it.

“What’s going on?” Sam mumbled, still half asleep.

“Y/n’s gone,” Colby said, the back of his throat stinging with the sobs threatening to escape him.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Same asked, suddenly completely awake and alert, grabbing his flashlight and turning it on.

“I-I don’t know. I woke up and she wasn’t beside me and she’s gone,” Colby rambled. “We need to find her.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Sam whispered. “We’ll find her. Let’s get some of your stuff and we’ll try to follow the path.”

They began screaming your name as loud as they could, hoping you could hear them and weren’t too far. They didn’t care about anything haunted anymore, all they cared about was finding you.

“Dude what if we don’t find her?” Colby asked, beginning to panic. “I can’t let anything happen to her.”

“We’re going to find her,” Sam said confidently. “We just need to keep looking, she couldn’t have gone too far I don’t think.”

Your pace began slowing, the exhaustion taking over you. You hadn’t made any progress from the looks of it. You were starting to give up. You were dehydrated, cold, and pure exhausted.

You fell to your knees, putting your head in your hands as you sobbed.

“Colby!!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. “Please!”

Your wails turned silent, utter defeat consuming your body. There was no way you could find your way back in the dark like this. Your extreme and utter panic had faded. Your adrenaline had depleted, and you felt your eyes fluttering shut as you rested your head on the cold, damp, floor.

“Colby!!!” a faint scream said in the distance.

“That was her!” Colby screamed. “Y/n!!!! I’m coming!!!”

The boys began running towards where they heard the sound. It was faint, but they heard it. They must have been somewhat going in the right direction.

They continued calling your name, Colby wiping tears from his face as he continued to move forward. He couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t. Not until he knew you were safe.

After what felt like hours of walking, Sam came to a halt.

“Colby...” he whispered, his flashlight aimed towards a form on the ground. It looked like a human...it looked like you.

“Y/n!” Colby screamed, sprinting over to you and shaking you. The worst case scenario briefly flitted through his mind as he waited for you to open your eyes.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting Colby’s in the glow of the flashlight. It instantly woke you up again.

“COLBY!” you screamed, jumping up and wrapping your arms around him, instantly breaking into sobs.

“Oh my god, you’re okay,” he cried as he held you as tight as he ever had.

“You found me,” you whispered. “I thought I was going to die out here.”

“Of course I found you,” he said, stroking the back of your head. “What happened? How did you get so far?”

“I-I got up to pee and I heard something. Then I felt something touch me and I just started running. I didn’t even think,” you explained, tears streaming down your face. “I was so scared, Colby.”

“You’re okay, baby,” he whispered as he rubbed your back. Sam sat next to you, wrapping his arms around you, too.

You felt so grateful for both of them. They didn’t give up on you when you gave up on yourself. You felt overwhelmed by love not only for Colby, but for Sam too.

“I think we should go home,” Colby said. “We can come back another time.”

“No!” you exclaimed. “This was supposed to be a fun adventure, let’s not ruin it because of this. I’m fine, really.”

“Babe, I don’t think we should-,” he started.

“Really, Colby,” you smiled, placing your hand on his cheek. “Let’s make this the most epic adventure ever.”

“Okay,” Colby agreed. “But promise you’ll wake me up if you have to leave the tent for anything, okay?”

“Promise,” you smiled, kissing him gently.

The three of you walked back to the campsite, hand in hand, finally feeling calm. You had the scare of your life, but you were happy to be back and safe with the boys. Sam decided to sleep in your tent, which made you laugh because you knew it would happen eventually.

Tomorrow was a new day, and what was a ghost hunting adventure without fearing for your life? You thought sarcastically.

You lied down between the two boys, pulling the sleeping bag up to your chin.

“I’m happy to be here with you,” you said. “Even though in that moment I wanted to be anywhere else.”

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, girl,” Colby chuckled, pulling you closer to him.

He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight from now on, and you couldn’t be happier or feel more safe.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fic #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby fic #imagine #snc #sam golbach

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kwanisms · 11 months

Text

The Library of Illusion — The Temple Guardian

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➮ naga!Mingi × fem!Reader wc: 6.2k summary: In the adventure section, Y/N finds herself in a dark ancient temple where she runs into a treasure hunter but soon the two run into trouble when they awaken the guardian of the temple. genres/themes/au: smut; fantasy, adventure, supernatural; non idol au, naga au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, minor character death, mention of blood, decapitation, and a headless corpse, also implied human consumption (mingi isn't human so keep that in mind lol), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings below the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @confusedmoonchild777 @burnsmepls @nebulousbookshelf

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: I really enjoyed writing this one. I'm a huge slvt for double penetration so this was right up my alley. I'm also a major monster fvcker enthusiast so there's that as well. Thank you so much for reading! We have two more parts before the event ends and I'm looking forward to writing both of them so I hope you're looking forward to reading them! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and banner made by me. Adult content and reblog banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it), sex with a supernatural creature, naga!Mingi, two dicks, double penetration (f receiving), anal (f receiving), oral (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), slight dubcon (Mingi doesn't listen one time but that's it), creampie, hint at multiple rounds (unrealistic sex but Mingi isn't human so 🤷🏻‍♀️ lol), I think I got everything but of course if I missed any let me know!

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“Just open the door,” you ordered, ignoring the way Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at you.

“As you wish,” he answered, pulling open the heavy wooden door. You started forward, stopping when he grabbed your arm firmly. Glancing down, you noticed how his grip was firm but still gentle at the same time. You look up from his fingers to meet his gaze.

“Be careful,” he said softly, eyes darting between yours. “Be on your toes at all times here. Some of the people you may meet here aren’t what they seem,” he added.

You narrowed your eyes. “What does that mean?”

Seonghwa said nothing, still holding your gaze. “Can…” your voice trailed off.

“Can you see the future?”

Seonghwa let go of your arm. “No,” he answered. “It’s just a feeling.”

“But you see everything?”

Seonghwa nodded once. “Everything.”

Your stomach churned. He’d said this before but it didn’t really dawn on you what he meant by everything. Deciding not to dwell on it, you turned to look into the black void of the hallway before you.

“I mean it,” Seonghwa said, holding up his hand as you tried to step forward. “Be careful.”

You nodded silently, letting him know you heard him.

Seonghwa reluctantly lowered his hand and watched as you stepped past the door frame. The door shut behind you and he turned away from the wood, making his way back over to the desk in the middle of the room.

“Just a little while longer,” he murmured before lifting his head and turning to look at the door with the orange sign that read ‘Restricted Section.’

“Just be a little more patient.”

Inside the hallway was just as the others had been and as you walked down the aisle, flashlight in hand, you wondered what you might find in this section. The last section.

‘The last section.’

The thought hadn’t registered when you first walked into the door but now that you were heading down this dark corridor, it finally hit you that this was the last section before you could finally find freedom.

With a newfound pep in your step, you hurried along, shining the light ahead, determination flooding your body.

The wood of the library gave way to stone and you glanced down to see the stone was not unlike the stone of the Library. A type of sandstone. You continued to walk and looked up, noticing a light in the distance.

Picking up the pace, you hurried down the hall towards the light, noticing how the walls were now covered in green vines with leafy greenery.

As you approached the light, you discovered it was sunlight filtering through the ceiling. You kept your flashlight on, glancing up to peer through a slot in the ceiling that led to the outside. You could see green vines, blue skies, and hear the sounds of the jungle outside.

You felt relief for a moment before you remembered this wasn’t home. This was the adventure section. You couldn’t let your guard down like that.

Lowering your gaze, you continued on, walking through the hall until you reached a large room. Glancing around, you noticed that this seemed to be some sort of ceremonial chamber.

Across from where you stood was another open doorway. You walked forward, ignoring the massive bugs that scurried across your path. You made your way over to one of the staircases against the wall that led up to the platform where the doorway stood.

Once on the landing, you glanced behind you and noticed how the room seemed to remind you of something out of an Indiana Jones movie or one of the Tomb Raider games.

‘Focus, Y/N,’ you told yourself as you turned back to the doorway and entered it carefully. You needed to stay on your toes, like Seonghwa said.

As you walked, you kept a close eye on the floor and taking it slow. The last thing you wanted to do was set off some sort of ancient booby trap.

The hall turned left at the end and you peered around the corner, making sure the coast was clear before you continued forward. At the end of this new hallway you found yourself at a crossroad. You could take the left tunnel which turned at the end or you could take the right tunnel which continued further than your eyes could tell.

Deciding the endless tunnel wasn’t a good idea, you turned left and headed down to the turn. Each step was carefully calculated and you kept your head on a swivel to make sure you didn’t run into any traps.

As you neared the end of the hall, you could hear the sound of someone mumbling to themselves and the sound of stone and metal scraping. You could only imagine what you’d find when you rounded this corner.

Once you reached the end of the hall, you peered around the corner and saw a man standing at what looked to be another door. He was inspecting a hole in the wall next to the door.

He wasn’t exactly tall but he wasn’t short. Maybe just a bit taller than yourself.

He wore similar clothes to you, tan shorts and button up shirt. He wore crew socks and thick brown hiking boots. He had a backpack that was resting against the wall beside him. He wore a wide brim hat and had a large machete strapped to his belt.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you heard him grumble as he pushed his hat back, letting it fall behind him, the string that hung down keeping it from falling to the floor. “There’s no mechanism here,” he continued, speaking to himself.

You watched him for a couple more minutes as he inspected the cut out. Finally you cleared your throat.

If this were any other situation, the way he jumped nearly a foot and struggled to unsheathe his machete would have been comical. His eyes were wide, expression shocked as he held the machete aloft.

When his eyes landed on you, his expression relaxed as did his posture. “Who are you?” he asked cautiously. “An adventurer, much like yourself,” you answered, stepping out from behind the corner.

The man’s eyes looked over you quickly before replacing his machete in its sheath.

“What are you doing here?”

You watched as he returned to the square cut out in the wall, bending over to peer inside it. “I’m looking for something,” you answered, watching him.

“Oh yeah? Treasure?” he asked, turning his head to look at you.

He scoffed when you shook your head. “No one comes out this far in the jungle if they aren’t looking for treasure,” he replied. “Maybe I’m looking for knowledge,” you replied. The man looked at you again, giving you another once over.

“What did you say your name was?” he asked. You shook your head. “I never said it,” you answered. “I’m Y/N,” you finally introduced yourself.

The man nodded once. “Nice to meet you Y/N,” he replied. “I’m Charlie.”

“So what are you looking for, Charlie?” you asked as you walked over. He nodded towards the door. “According to the texts and maps, this door leads into a special chamber,” he explained. “There’s supposed to be something special behind this door. I’m assuming treasure,” he continued.

“But I can’t seem to figure out how to open the door,” he explained, looking back at the cut out. “Usually these doors have mechanisms that have to be switched to open them but there doesn’t seem to be anything in here,” he added, gesturing to the square hole.

You glanced around, inspecting the carvings in the walls. It was extremely detailed and intricate. “Maybe it’s a bogey,” you offered, looking at Charlie as he glanced up. “A bogey? You mean like a decoy?”

You nodded. “Exactly. Maybe this is a diversion and the real switch is somewhere else,” you explained, turning to look around again. Charlie joined you in looking around.

“Then I guess we better get looking.”

Looking around the hall proved to be a task in itself. Everything that looked remotely like a switch didn’t budge and not only Charlie but you also found yourself getting impatient. That key was the only thing standing between you and your freedom and you were running out of time.

Charlie let out a groan of frustration, leaning against the wall. “This is impossible!” he grumbled. “The switch may not even be in this hallway!”

You pulled out your canteen and took a sip, pondering his words. You glanced over to a small opening about ten feet from the door. “Have you looked in there?” you asked, nodding towards it. Charlie looked up and back at you.

“No,” he answered. “I figured it was just an indentation. Nothing special,” he added. You replaced your canteen in your bag and got up, walking over carefully. Turning on your flashlight you peered into the opening and found it led to a room.

Pulling back, you glanced at Charlie. “There’s a room here,” you announced.

Charlie got up quickly and hurried over. “Do you want to go first or shall I?” he asked. Your grip on your flashlight tightened. “You seem more experienced,” you answered, looking back at him. “Maybe you should go first?”

Charlie nodded and moved to grab his bag. He pulled out his own flashlight and peered into the room, looking beside the opening, above and below before carefully shimmying into the gap and into the room.

You waited for him to give the all clear before you stepped into the room with him. “Stay there,” he warned. “Actually, it might be better if you stay outside,” he added. “Just in case something in here closes a door or something.”

You nodded and backed up, peering into the room from the hall.

Charlie made his way carefully around the room, shining his light over the walls, floor, and ceiling. Upon reaching the wall in the corner where the wall separating the hall from the room stood, he murmured something. “What was that?” you asked. Charlie turned to look back at you.

“I think I found the switch, stand back just in case,” he explained. You pulled back, standing a good foot away from the gap in the wall. Charlie counted to three before activating the switch and your ears caught the sound of stone grinding. You turned your head as the door at the end of the hall slowly started to open.

“You did it!” you called out. “It’s opening!”

Charlie appeared a moment later, a triumphant smile on his face as he joined you. “Let’s go,” he said, leading the way. You followed closely behind, keeping an eye out for any traps.

The room behind the door was huge.

Half the room was lit from the sunlight filtering in from a square cut in the ceiling which stood probably a good thirty feet above your heads. The side walls of the chamber were covered in intricate carvings like the hall.

The back wall facing you was a massive carved face with a split down the middle. Under the face was a dark empty space.

On either side of the face were large black spaces where light couldn’t seem to penetrate. Large stone pillars held up the ceiling and disappeared into the darkness.

On the floor in the middle of the chamber was a large stone structure with carvings on the sides and a flat top. At each corner of the structure on the floor were what looked like pressure plates.

You inspected the carvings on the plates as Charlie looked at the stone bed.

“What is this chamber?” you wondered aloud. Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know,” he answered softly.

“Maybe a funerary chamber?”

You looked up. “A funerary chamber?” He nodded as he looked from the carvings to you. “Some ancient civilizations held funerals in special chambers,” he explained as you stood up to walk closer to the stone bed.

You noticed four loops which had chains attached to them. “This is where they’d lay the body being buried,” Charlie continued to explain as he moved to look at the pressure plates.

“Why would they need chains to hold down the body?” you asked, drawing his attention as you carefully picked up an old chain. “Maybe it’s symbolic?” he offered, standing up and walking over to you, taking the chain from your hands.

You glanced around, noticing a section in one of the side walls where the wall was carved into large stone blocks at the base. You walked closer to inspect, eyes widening as you realized the blocks were not carved into the wall. They were carved out of the wall. “Charlie, over here!”

He hurried over to see what you’d found.

When you showed him the blocks and how they had handles, he shrugged his bag off and handed it to you.

“Stand back,” he warned before taking hold of the handles and pulling.

The block, despite looking like it weighed tons, actually moved as he pulled it from the wall. “Do you think these are to weigh down the pressure plates?” you asked, turning to look at the stone bed and plates.

“What do the pressure plates open?” Charlie wondered as he let go of the block and peered around the chamber.

Your eyes fell on the face in the wall and you tilted your head curiously as you thought about the Tomb Raider games you’d played in your youth. “Maybe that’s a door?” you offered, pointing to the face and the split in the middle.

Charlie looked up at the face in the wall. “You think two of these plates open one half and the other plates open the other side?” he asked, looking at you. “Let’s find out,” you offered, looking back with a smile, one that Charlie returned.

Setting his bag down and shrugging your own off, you moved to grab the handles of the block next to the one Charlie started pulling.

It was heavy but it wasn’t impossible for you to move, surprisingly.

Together you guided the blocks to the pressure plates and pushed them onto them carefully. The blocks weighed down the plates and they sank a few inches into the floor.

The two of you headed to the opposite side and repeated the same thing, pulling the blocks from the walls and pushing them one at a time onto the plates.

“When we get this one on the last plate, stand back behind the stone bed and be ready to run,” Charlie said as you stopped at the last plate. You nodded to show you understood before the two of you pushed the last block in place, backing up as the pressure plate sank into the floor.

You looked up as a loud mechanism in the floor started moving, shaking the floor as the two halves of the face opened slowly, swinging out to reveal another carved face with much more detail.

Your eyes widened as you realized something.

“It was a mask!” you said excitedly, drawing Charlie’s attention. “The doors were two halves of a mask!” He looked back at the face as the doors stopped. “That’s really creepy,” Charlie noted, nodding towards the eyes which were black holes.

You pointed at the base where the mouth was. “Look,” you whispered.

Inside the mouth was a small chamber full of glittering gold and sparkling gems.

You watched as Charlie let out a whoop and hurried over to inspect the treasure trove. You hung back with a smile on your face as he looked over the loot.

A breeze blew through the room, seemingly pulling you towards the face and you felt the hairs on your body stand on end. ‘What the fuck is this feeling?’ you wondered as you looked around.

Sensing you were no longer alone, you tried to get Charlie’s attention. “Hey,” you said softly, glancing around. “Something doesn’t feel right,” you called over to him.

“I think we should hurry up and get out of here.”

Charlie nodded as he picked up several gems and inspected them.

You heard a slithering against the stone floor seemingly coming from the darkness.

“Charlie!” you hissed, drawing his attention finally. “Something’s here,” you explained, looking at the darkness, eyes wide. Charlie rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head. “This isn’t a movie,” he continued.

“There aren’t any monsters.”

Quick as a flash, something from the darkness grabbed Charlie’s legs and pulled him under the head. “WHAT THE FUCK!” he screamed, flailing as he tried to free himself. “Y/N!” he yelled.

Without thinking, you ran forward and grabbed his hands, trying to pull him free.

“Fuck,” he screamed. “I don’t want to die!”

Your grip slipped as he was pulled from you and under the head into the darkness, screaming. You fell back onto the stone floor, scrambling back as Charlie continued to scream until his screaming was cut short and a gurgling sound came from the darkness.

You watched in horror as something was thrown and rolled into the light.

You let out a scream as Charlie’s severed head came to a stop, a look of pure terror etched on his face. Looking up into the dark void you could see small rivers of blood flowing from what you assumed was Charlie’s headless body.

Trying to scramble backwards, you could hear slithering and you braced yourself for whatever it was to appear and grab you as well.

The slithering moved from the space under the head to the side. Before you could gather yourself to stand, something large was thrown from the darkness and landed beside you. It was Charlie’s body.

You looked away, trying not to vomit as you looked back into the darkness to see a pair of bright blue eyes glowing and watching you.

A hissing voice sounded from the darkness. “What are you doing here?”

You stared at the eyes in fear, frozen to the spot. “I assssssked you a quessssstion,” the voice said.

You glanced to the side where Charlie's bloodied and headless body lay and then back up to the creature before you.

“Tell me, mortal,” the creature hissed as it advanced slowly, bright blue eyes almost glowing in the shadows.

��Why sssshouldn't I kill you?”

You held up your hands non threateningly. “I'm not here for the treasure.”

The creature hissed, moving quickly and darting to the next pillar, only to peer around it at you, eyes still shining.

“Liessss,” it hissed. You shook your head. “I swear,” you answered. “I'm here for something else.” The creature then raised itself up, standing much higher than before and you felt your stomach sink. “And what would that be?”

You watched as the dark shadow curled itself around the pillar.

This creature had to be massive, judging by how you could still hear its body move against the stone floor despite its eyes being a good ten feet in the air.

“A k-key,” you stammered. “I'm here for a key.”

The creature stopped, turning to look down at you. You could see its head tilt, looking at you curiously. “A keeeeyyy?” It echoed.

You nodded vigorously. “Yes, that's right!”

The creature slowly lowered itself down to the stone floor and moved closer little by little, eyes swaying back and forth until it finally emerged from the shadows.

You held in a gasp as the creature moved into the light. It had the upper body of a man. A very handsome man with dark brown, almost black hair with light blue streaks. His eyes were that same aquamarine that glowed in the shadows.

The lower half of his body was that of a snake.

Bright blue scales with lighter blue ventral scales. He towered over you as he moved forward. You watched the snake portion of his body slither forward as he started to circle you. If you had to estimate his size, he was probably nearly 20 feet long, standing up at about 9 feet. You turned, eyes following his scales until you were met face to face.

Up close, you could see the reptilian vertical slit pupils as he studied you carefully. “You're looking for a key?” he asked again, tilting his head ever so slightly as his aqua blue eyes studied you.

You nodded again, keeping his gaze, apprehension filling your body.

“But not for treassssssure?” he asked in a hiss. Shaking your head, you couldn't help but tremble under his piercing stare, knowing at any moment, he could sink those sharp teeth into your skin and wrap his muscular scaly body around you, squeezing the life from you until you went cold.

‘What does he even eat?’ You wondered suddenly but quickly shook that thought from your mind.

“I don't even know what treasure you're talking about,” you lied as the creature stopped circling you.

“I know you’re lying,” he said. You nodded, holding your hands up.

“Okay, you’re right. I know what treasure you’re taking about but I swear,” you explained. “I don’t want it. I’m only looking for the key.”

The creature looked you over before glancing at the treasure and then back.

“Are you looking for thisssssss key?” he asked, reaching to his side and pulling up a key from a small pack that rested against his hip. It was indeed the key you were looking for, the same metal and the special insignia.

You nodded. “Yes,” you answered. “That’s the key!”

The creature pulled the key back. “What do you want it for?”

You pouted at him. “I need it to get back to my own world,” you answered. “Your own world?” the creature asked. You were getting sick of this mimicking game.

“Yes, I need the key so I can leave this place and go home. I just want to get on with my life.”

The snake creature tilted his head. “What’ssssss your name?” he asked suddenly. You hesitated. ‘Why is he asking my name? What could he possibly want.’

“Y-Y/N,” you answered, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Y/NNNNNNN? That’sssssss a pretty name,” he said, making your cheeks and ears grow warm. “What’s your name?” you asked, trying to divert attention from yourself. “Mingiiiiiii,” he answered. “Mingi?” you asked, tilting your head.

He nodded, a small smile spreading across his face before he licked his lips, displaying his forked blue tongue. “And what exactly are you?” you asked, looking him over. Mingi tilted his head again. “I am a naga,” he explained.

“And the guardian of this temple.”

You nodded wordlessly. ‘A naga? Okay, I think I can work with this.’

“Okay, Mingi the Naga,” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “Let’s make a trade.”

Mingi narrowed his eyes, the slitted pupils staring you down. “A traaaade?”

You nodded. “For the key.”

Mingi let out a breathless laugh.

“And what could you possssssibly offer me?!” he asked, narrowing his bright blue eyes at you. You’d expected this question and figured you’d already fucked the other guardians for the key, not to mention an alien and a spider creature, a naga might be a little fun.

Without a word, you glanced down to the button of your shorts and back up. Mingi didn't seem to follow so instead of explaining, you decided to show him.

Taking a deep breath, your hands moved to undo your button and zipper, Mingi's eyes darted from your hands to your face. “I ssssssee,” he hissed, lips stretching into a wide smirk as the implications of your actions dawned on him.

“You would give yourssssself to me for the key?”

You nodded, your hands pausing to gauge whether he would take the bait or not. After a moment of silence, during which you had a mini stare down with the serpent guardian.

“Proccceeed.”

You continued, maintaining eye contact as you pushed your shorts down, leaving your lower half completely bare. Mingi's eyes raked over your form as you discarded your shorts on the stone floor. Quick as a flash, he coiled himself around your body, not squeezing, merely keeping you in place.

“Keep going,” he urged, seemingly enjoying this charade.

You slowly started to undo the buttons of your blouse under his watchful stare until you shimmied out of it altogether, dropping it on the floor with your shorts and leaving you in only your black lace bra.

Mingi's serpentine body tightened around you, his hands moving to take yours and carefully guide you up until you were at eye level with him.

“Thisss issss not a game,” he said as soon as you were level.

“Do not toy with me, mortal.” You shook your head in response.

“No, not a game,” you repeated.

Mingi nodded. “I'm not like your human loverssss,” he continued. You nodded your head once. “I know,” you answered but he cut you off. "No," he said in a deep tone. “You don't.”

Now it was your turn to tilt your head curiously.

“What do you mean?”

Mingi's hand wandered from yours, moving up your arm to your neck before down your chest, grazing over your hardened nipple and down between your thighs, cupping your heat.

“Why don't I just ssssshow you inssstead?” You nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat as Mingi removed your bra with a firm tug, the material pulling from your body with a nasty rrrrrip.

You gasped as he tossed your torn undergarment to the side while part of his tail wrapped around your midsection, holding you in place while he leaned back.

Your eyes traveled from his face and down his toned torso down until the golden flesh met the cyan scales. It was then you noticed the slit. You hadn't seen it before because you'd been too preoccupied with Mingi’s handsome face and bright blue eyes.

Right where you expected a human phallus to be was a slit in the ventricular scales that ran down the front of his snake-like lower half. You watched, enthralled, as the slit slowly spread open.

Your curiosity was satiated as not only one but two phallus emerged from the slit. Hemipenes. Of course. Most reptiles had hemipenes, so why wouldn't a mythical snake human hybrid have them?

The twin clocks stood erect, the heads curving towards Mingi's body. They were both quite large. The very tip of both were flared with small spiny glands. The shafts were covered in rows of these same spines until the top of the bulbous bases.

Both cocks had bulbous, almost knot-like bases that were dark blue, lightening up to a bright, almost neon, aqua blue at the head.

Your lips parted as a small “oh” left your mouth.

“You definitely aren't like any of my previous lovers,” you confirmed.

Mingi smirked proudly, wondering if he had managed to frighten you off but when you looked up at him, a mischievous grin of your own present, he knew he was in for an interesting ride.

Carefully, he brought you up level to him again, eyes darting between yours. “I asssssume you need no… persssssuasion?” His voice held a hint of amusement, prompting you to shake your head. “No,” you answered. “Not at all. In fact…”

You patted his scaly skin. “Set me down for a moment, please.”

Curiously, Mingi did just that and watched with a mixture of amusement and animalistic arousal as you turned away, climbing onto the stone bed and showing him your dripping cunt.

You were presenting yourself to him.

“Go right ahead.”

Just as quickly as he set you down, Mingi had you wrapped up in his coils again, the end of his tail wrapping twice around your waist and picking you up, bringing your cunt to his face. “Oh, this isn't exactly what I- AH!” you whimpered as you felt his tongue lick a slow long stripe from your clit back to your ass.

“Your body isssssn't prepared to accommodate me,” Mingi whispered, giving you another lick and groaning at the taste. “What do you mean it's not prepared? I'm practically dripping!” you groaned, squirming in his hold as you felt his hands on your backside, spreading your cheeks.

“Yessss, one hole isssss ready but thissss one,” he said, eyeing your puckered hole. “Thissss one isssss not.” Your eyes widened as you tried to free yourself from his coils but to no avail.

You'd never had anyone in your… backdoor.

“Whoa, whoa, time out!” you said, clawing at his scales as you felt his hot breath fan over your asshole. “Wait just a goddamn second!”

You shuddered, let out a squeak as you felt the tip of his forked tongue swirl around your hole before prodding at it. “S-shit!” you gasped, your walls clenching around nothing as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter as he tongue at the puckered entrance.

“Wait, just wait!”

Again, he didn't listen and you squealed as he forced the tip of his forked tongue into your asshole. “Whoa, okay wait,” you gasped. “Fucking hell, Mingi! Give me a second!” you hissed, swatting at his scales, hoping he might give you a moment to accommodate and thankfully he did, giving you a couple of minutes to adjust to the intrusion.

After a few minutes, you gave him the ‘okay’ to continue, letting out a squeal as he continued to toy with your hole, teasing and licking and making your walls clench around nothing.

You had hoped by now, he'd be buried deep in your cunt but here he was, tonguing your ass, making it wetter and wetter with his saliva. “Mingi!” you hissed, relief filling your core as his tongue finally withdrew from your rear. “Finally!”

Somewhere between the big reveal and Mingi's tongue being in your ass, you'd forgotten that he had two dicks and as you were lowered, your sopping cunt now in line with one, you remembered at the most inopportune moment that he was preparing your ass to take the other one. ‘Fu-’

“OH SHIT!” you gasped as the tip of one of the two cocks pushed into your wet pussy. The small protrusions you'd dubbed spines felt more like bumps as the head of the cock slid further and further into your warmth. Mingi let out a shuddering gasp as he bottomed out, the top of the bulbous base pressed firmly against your lips.

You could feel the weight of his other cock resting against your slick asshole. There was no way it was going to fit and if he tried, you knew it was gonna hurt like hell.

Slowly, Mingi retracted his cock from your cunt before tilting your body slightly so you felt the head of his cocks at both holes.

‘It's not gonna fit. It's not gonna fit!’

You shut your eyes as you felt Mingi's coils tighten, pulling you down. You felt a firm pressure against your ass as the other head slid into your cunt again. “Relaxxxxxx,” you heard Mingi whisper in your ear.

As you listened to his voice, you felt your muscles unclench and slowly, the head of the other cock breached your hole, slipping inside with relative ease thanks to his saliva.

With both heads breached, Mingi slowly pulled you down, pushing both cocks into your holes, stretching both simultaneously. You'd never experienced such a sensation before. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt, having both holes filled at the same time.

“Oh f-fuck,” you cursed as you felt one tip press against your cervix.

“You like that,” you heard him chuckle. It wasn't a question.

“Y-yes,” you stammered, let out a moan as you felt him thrust lightly. “Oh god yes!”

Mingi chuckled again. “You mortal women are so intriguing.”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you growled.

Without another word, Mingi did just that, his scaly skin hitting your soft flesh with each snap of his hips, the end of his tail squeezing your body just enough to keep you firmly in place but not enough to hurt.

“Oh fuuuuuuck,” you moaned as your walls clenched around both cocks. “So f-full,” you whimpered. “Feel s-so good!”

You heard Mingi snicker but said nothing, focusing more on the feeling of being stuffed so full with both cocks twitching inside you.

His pace didn’t falter and you knew you were in for a wild ride.

Each thrust drove you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuuuuck me," you groaned, eyes rolling back as Mingi kept your legs spread, tail still coiled firmly around your waist, holding you stomach down as his hips pounded into you. "I already am," he said cheekily.

His thrusts were so powerful, quick, his hips snapping against your ass with each stroke. Your lips parted as moan after moan tumbled from your lips, small dribbles of spit falling as the temple guardian almost fucked you dumb.

"Almosssssst," he hissed, his hips moving more erratically as he chased his own orgasm, yours just within your reach. "So close," you gasped, walls fluttering around his cock as you teetered on the edge. "Ch-choke me!" You cried out suddenly.

Mingi tilted his head curiously, his hips not stalling for one moment. "Damn it, just do it!" You growled.

Mingi rolled his eyes but obliged, the end of his tail moving from just under your breast to wrap snugly around your throat, squeezing just enough.

"F-fuck! I'm gonna cum," you groaned, the muscles in your thighs twitching as you finally tumbled over the edge, white hot heat searing through your body like a warm liquid spreading to your fingers and toes.

Stars blinded you as your vision went dark and fuzzy for a moment. Mingi removed his coils from around your throat as he helped you ride out your high just as he hit his own, letting out a sharp hiss, his teeth sank into your bare shoulder, causing you to cry out in pain.

At the same time, you felt him explode inside your walls, thick spurts of his hot load filling both holes until they spilled around his cocks and fell to the stone floor below you.

From the bite wound in your shoulder, you felt a tingling sensation that turned into an intense burning but it wasn't painful. Your walls clenched around him as the sensation spread, a whimper leaving your lips as his teeth pulled from your flesh.

The burning sensation stayed, coursing through your veins until it settled in your belly as you felt both of Mingi's cocks stiffen inside you.

"What're you doing?" you mumbled, crying out as he thrust into you, more of his cum spilling out of your abused holes.

"Again," he hissed in your ear. "Again?" you asked, turning your head to glance back at him, meeting those bright blue eyes in a heated stare. He nodded quickly.

"Yessss," he answered. "I told you I'm not like any of your previous loversssss."

You shook your head. "But I'm so tired."

Mingi chuckled but shook his head this time. "But you don't have to do anything," he replied. You groaned as his cocks moved inside your walls. "Fine. You do all the work," you replied. "But make it quick."

Mingi let out another chuckle.

"Oh no. Y/N," he said with a devilish grin.

"We're not even clossssssse to being done yet."

You lost count of how many rounds Mingi lasted but when he finally laid you gently on the stone bed, you were more than exhausted. “As promissssssed,” he hissed, pulling the key from his hip. “The key.”

You sat up quickly and looked up as he handed you the key. “You better hurry and get out of here,” he added, giving you a mischievous grin. “Before I change my mind and keep you here forever.”

You quickly grabbed your clothes, lamenting silently over your ripped bra as you pulled your clothes on before grabbing your pack and leaving Charlie’s against the stone bed.

You glanced back as Mingi retreated into the shadows with Charlie’s corpse and you shuddered, remembering earlier you’d wondered what he ate.

You hurried back the way you came, keeping a firm hold on the key. As you ran down the steps in the main chamber you heard a clap of thunder overhead and continued to run as rain started to pour, water falling from the cutouts in the ceiling.

You finally found the hallway back to the adventure section and rushed down it, feet thudding against the stone and soon against the wood as the door came into view.

You threw the door open, slamming it behind you as your heart pounded. ‘Finally.’

You glanced up to the desk, eyes widening to find Seonghwa not sitting there. You hurried up the steps to the desk where the box sat on the top. Opening it you saw all the keys were still there. Carefully, you placed the other key beside them and looked around.

You saw no sign of the Keeper. ‘Where is he?’ you wondered as you looked around. You descended the steps, starting to walk around the room, looking between the shelves and even trying the doors but they wouldn’t budge.

Your eyes widened as you checked your watch. How much time had passed?

‘Has it been three days already?’

You let out a soft gasp.

‘Am I too late?’

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #mingi fanfic #mingi angst #mingi smut #mingi x reader #series: library of illusion

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fairysluna · 1 year

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what lives in the dark.

In the middle of the Godswood of Winterfell lives a creature that appears at midnight with the full moon, but you and your boyfriend were too stubborn to believe it.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Werewolf!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader.

TAGS/TW – smut (breeding/creampie, p in v, cunninglus, size kink, squirting, and praise), dubcon/noncon, infidelity(?, hunter/pray dynamics, lowborn!reader, feral!cregan. if something is missing pls let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE – so, this story contains a bit of omegaverse dynamics bc Cregan is a werewolf, but only basic aspects like the rut and knotting. It took me a while to write this actually, but i hope you all enjoy it!! also, thanks to my beautiful wifey @targbarbie for being my beta reader, love you to the moon and to saturn🤍

WORD COUNT – 4.792

GENERAL TAG LIST – @borikenlove @melsunshine @clairacassidy @satansdarlin @aelora-a @cullenswife @ilikeitbetterangsty @jvpit3rs

FEEDBACK , SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

"I'm starting to regret this."

Your voice came out as a whisper, almost being silenced by the sounds of the nightlife of the Godswood. The darkness surrounding you was scary enough to spook away to the bravest of men, and yet your lover decided that it was worth the try. You were barely able to see the stars in the sky, for the trees did not allow you to have a clear view. The moonlight was dim, the only thing that helped you to see was the candles on your hands.

"Just a few more rounds and we'll get back home," your lover promised, holding your hand and guiding you deeper into the woods.

A quick look at him was all you needed to start to feel unsure, not safe. He was not tall, one or two inches taller than you, his body was slim and skinny, and he certainly was not the greatest of fighters. He was the son of a stableman, the closest thing to battle he had experienced was when a horse almost kicked his gut. And yet, he believed to be brave and strong enough to submerge into the darkness of the woods.

Even when the whispers say that every full moon, a howling creature appears. The northerns usually hide in the safety of their homes when this time of the month arrives, but there you were, following your lover into the craziest thing you have done in your life. Oh, how stupid you were.

"My love, I don't think this is a good idea," you insisted, already being paranoid with the whistling sound of the wind, "this is not safe, please, let's just go home."

He didn't listen, so you froze in your place. Once he realized you were not moving, he turned around and pressed his lips with disapproval, almost looking mad at you for stopping his adventure, but you were not going to bend, you wanted to go back. Your instinct was yelling for you to turn around and run.

"I want to go home," you said sternly, firmly expressing your annoyance and slight fear.

"Love-"

"No," you interrupted him, "it's enough. This is stupidly dangerous, I don't want to do this anymore, I want to-"

His lips pressed against yours, silencing you as he pushed you against a tree. His hands went to your rear, cupping your arse and stealing a small gasp from your mouth. You squirmed under his touch, accidentally brushing your thigh against him and causing a moan to slip out of his lips.

Almost immediately, you pushed him away.

"Stop this!" you grunted, "what are you doing?"

"Trying to calm you down, that's what I'm doing," he said with a smirk, and you could not help but to roll your eyes as he came closer to your lips once again.

"I want to go home," you demanded.

"I want to make you mine," he muttered, going to attack your lips once again.

His hands cupped your face in order to retain your position between his body and the tree behind you. You moved your face, and with a single push you managed to get him away from you. He groaned, angry and upset, but you decided to ignore his furrowed expression as you turned around and started to walk away.

"Wait!" you heard him yelling, but you didn't stop, "My love, please, wait!"

"I'm going home with or without you," you answered, keeping your pace steady and firm.

"You can get lost, the Godswood is too big!"

"I'll find the way out," you assured him.

You didn't turn around, but you knew he was walking right behind you because you were able to hear the leaves cracking under his shoes. Your breath became unsteady as you started to get slightly tired of walking, and you couldn't find the weirwood tree that would make you know you were going in the right direction.

Trying to look at the sky to see if the star could help you with your orientation, you realize that the crown of the abundant trees were covering almost the whole sky, leaving you with nothing that showed you where you were going. You cursed yourself on the low, losing your pride and turning around to finally face your lover and ask him to guide you through the forest.

But he wasn't there. No one was, actually. As soon as you turned around, you were able to hear a movement in the trees and bushes, and the only thing in front of you was darkness. The candle in your hand was soon to be extinct, for the wax was already fully melting in the cup. You started to feel genuine and pure fear, you were alone, in the woods during the full moon. Nothing good will come out of this, of that you were certain.

The sudden movement of the trees put you on alert. You swallowed hard as your body tensed, stiff as a rock. You tried to remain quiet, thinking that perhaps if the thing that was out there did not hear you then you would be safe. Your shaky breath became a bit too loud for your liking as you slowly started to move backwards, resisting the imminent urge to run away.

And then you saw it, two yellowish spheres that were seen hiding behind a tree not so far from you. Your lower lip trembled, and when you heard it grunting, you knew you should run.

The candle, the only thing that provided you with light, fell from your hand and was turned off by the traces of snow in the ground. You were staring at it, and it was staring right back at you. You could recognize a tall and big shape, almost too big to be human… no man you have known was that tall, and that's how you knew you were in the presence of the frightening beast the northern tales tell you about.

You saw it move, and before it could come out from its hiding spot, you found yourself running away, completely blinded by the darkness surrounding you, and the panic and adrenaline of the moment. Your hands were grasping your skirts, lifting them up so it was easier for you to move between bushes and branches.

It was almost impossible for you to know whether you were going for the right path or not. The adrenaline of the moment led you where your instinct would take you, and with a bit of luck, you managed to arrive at the center of the Godswood, where the Weirwood Tree was standing. Its fallen red leaves were decorating the white snow, and you finally were able to see beyond your own hands.

You looked up, and the stars were shining bright, the moon giving you the light you needed to realize where you were standing. You fell to your knees in front of the carved face, and you started to pray for your safety, cursing the name of your lover who had no remorse in leaving you to go by yourself.

You noticed you were crying once you touched your face and felt your soaked cheeks. Whines and cries were heard in the quietness of the night, your body shaking with fear as you were looking at your surroundings like a paranoid.

The sound of a branch being stepped on was heard, and your eyes quickly saw the tall frame of a man. You felt relief, a weight taken off your shoulders as you stood up and sighed. He walked slowly, getting closer to you, and once he was close enough you were able to identify him as Lord Stark.

A tall, handsome man that you had the chance to meet a few times around Winterfell; now you were seeing him as your salvation from the terror that was starting to consume you.

Of course the panic in your mind did not allow you to notice his bright yellow eyes.

"Lord Stark," you breathlessly said, standing up to face him. His tall frame in front of you, your eyes looking up at his face. "What a relief…"

He remained silent, your eyes kept wandering around going from his face to your surroundings just to make sure the thing didn't follow you to that place. Once he reached your side, you felt some sense of calmness and peace.

"We need to go back, I intended to go back but I got lost in my way and I couldn't- this is not safe, we must go now!"

You saw his shoulders move as he took a deep breath and his intense haze was on you, examining your body from head to toe. Suddenly, your demeanor changed, and the feeling of safety was no longer there. Your body tensed, staring at his eyes only to notice the color of them, and how big his pupils were.

Then, you knew you were fucked.

In a pathetic attempt to run away, you tried to turn around, but big hands wrapped your waist and placed you against the tree. His body pressed against you, and you sensed his scent; he smelled of wet dirt and sweat, but there were still traces of his cologne in his skin; a sign that there was still a man behind those predatory eyes.

"My Lord-"

"Your smell…" he interrupts your whines, tears falling down your cheeks once again. His voice came out as low and raspy, almost in an animalistic tone that made you freeze with fear, "I could smell you from miles away, sweet doe." His nose buried in the crook of your neck, you whimpered, closing your eyes, "so inviting, so tempting… so arousing."

His tongue traveled in your soft skin, leaving a trace of saliva on you, causing chills down your spine. Your lower lip shook as you took a deep breath. Soon you were able to feel his teeth brushing against your neck, biting gently without the intention of leaving marks behind; he just wanted to taste your sweetness. But, of course, that was not enough for him.

"I wonder how you taste," he purred, his fingers collected some of the tears that had fallen down your warm face before he licked them out of his digits. A groan escaped from his lips, his eyes were closed, that tiny, little taste from you sent him over the edge. "I bet you are so sweet… your scent tells me you are."

"P-please…" You pointlessly begged him, feeling his hands going down to reach your skirts and starting to lift it up. You could've ran away, but you were frozen in that position; back against the holy tree, and your chest pressed against his.

"How dare you ask me to stop?" He scoffed, "you've been spreading the smell of your arousal around the woods, and you expect me to control myself and let you go?" He clicked his tongue, his fingers slipping between your legs until he reached your warmth. He hummed, delighted to feel some of your slick covering his thick, big fingers. "I usually hold myself back, but you have made it impossible… I'm acting as if I'm going through my rut, but in reality it's all you." He spoke, grunting as he leaned impossibly closer and his finger played with your sensitive bud. "You wanted this, did you not? You came here because you knew I was going to be here-"

"No… no, I didn't know, please!" You cried out, whimpering in the low as he rubbed his raspy fingertips against you, "I- I didn't-"

"Sh, sh…" he silenced you, his free hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled back and led you to the ground. He forced you to kneel, squeezing your throat in a subtle but demanding way, and you were too scared to even dare to go against his wishes. "You are a terrible liar, my sweet doe."

Somehow you ended up laying in the ground, your body on top of a bed of fallen leaves covered by the traces that the snow had left in them. Your back soon was wet because of the melting snow, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Cregan forced you to spread your legs, positioning himself between them as he towered your body with his. He leaned closer and harshly bit your lip; the gesture was so careless that it made you cry out loud. However, there was no point in screaming, you were too far to be heard by someone from the town. Your only option was to close your eyes, pray and cry in silence until everything was over.

His big hands grabbed the back of your knees and forced them against your chest. The cold breeze smacked against your bare cunt and you whined due the sensation. Inevitably, you clenched your walls and he was able to perceive it, his bright, yellow eyes sparkled with the sight as he sighed. A smug smirk appeared on face, giving him a wicked look on his devilish features; such a view made you feel fear once again, but also made you sense some familiar feeling in your gut.

"Oh, fuck-" he said, shifting his position until his face was right in front lf your cunt. "Look at this… so fucking pretty."

He moved his hands, one of them was big –and strong– enough to hold your legs up. His free hand went to your folds, spreading them without shame as he took a closer look. He managed to see your little clit, already getting swollen for the stimulation he was providing you, and your hole… so eager and desperate to be filled up by him. He leaned even closer, his nose almost brushing against your pearl. He took a deep breath.

"Gods be good," he moaned. His mouth dropped open as he panted, his heavy breathing smacking against your wetness. Your hips twitched and you hiccuped, not even sure of what you were feeling at that moment, "just let me have a taste of you before I knot you."

Before you realized, his both hands were on your arse, his thumbs spreading your lips as his thick, warm and raspy tongue lapped onto your soaking cunt. Your eyes rolled to the back of your hand almost immediately as you tried to move away from him, but his hands were too strong and you could barely shake under his frame.

He had absolutely no shame in devouring you. His saliva dripping from his tongue and slipping down your arse as he moaned and whined against your sensitive skin. You tasted so fucking good, better than any other sweet or desert he had ever eaten before. Your soft whimpers and cries were edging him to the point where his mind felt numb with pleasure and lust. He could not help but feel the pleasuring pain growing inside his pants to such an extent that he started to cry out of the ache.

Your hands were on his hair, doing actions that did not have a clear intention; you were pulling it to keep him away from you, but at the same time, your hips could not stop following his hungry mouth. It is as if your body was asking for something you cannot quite comprehend, your lover has never pleasured in this way before… Cregan was the first person who dared to kiss such a private part of your body. It felt different, and it felt so fucking good.

Soon, your legs were wrapped around his head as he pulled your hips up. His mouth sucking on your clit and slurping your juices, your moans becoming as loud as screams. Your mind confused with the overwhelming sensation your body was experiencing, completely numb as a response for the unbeknownst feeling growing inside your belly.

Stammering, mumbling and cries were the only thing that left your mouth, for you were unable to put words together to form coherent sentences that express whatever you were feeling at the moment. It was completely new, you were feeling fire running through your veins that intensified with each movement of his skilful tongue against your folds. You felt your skin burning, sweat covering your shape as you kept struggling to move; your chest moving fastly, your nails digging in his skull, and your hips humping his face.

You melted under his arms as a sudden feeling washed you over with such an intensity that your vision became blurry. Black spots appeared in your eyes as you gasped loudly, you felt a certain relief followed by wet sounds that made Cregan whine even louder than you. His tongue collected all of your cum, seizing the sweet taste of your release as you were too numb to even realize what had just happened.

"Your cunt is so fucking wet right now," he growled. His tone made you wake up from the cloud of ecstasy you were in. It was lower, barely human. An animalistic demeanor was seen on his predatory eyes as he examined your shaky body under him. Your juices and the traces of his saliva made his chin glistened under the moonlight, such an obscene view to witness, so sinful, so shameful. "You pretend you don't like this but look at you, you came so fucking hard on my mouth, sweet doe… I want to drink from this cunt forever."

He let go of you just so his hands would reach his pants. You held your weight over your shoulders and while you looked at him struggling to get rid of the bothering fabric, you saw the perfect opportunity to attempt an escape. A stupid action, that's certain.

Your shaky legs were not much helpful as you turned to crawl away from him. Your knees being scratched by the branches on the floor as you cried your way out of that place. A big hand was wrapped around your ankle and dragged you backwards until you felt his hardened cock hitting your arse cheeks. His hands fell at each side of your hips and you cried at the impact as your arms failed to keep your body up.

Soon he grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled you back until his mouth was beside your ear. You felt his length between your folds, and he slowly started to rub against you, your poor, abused clit throbbed due to this action and a moan left your lips. You were able to perceive his anger in his heavy breathing as he tightened his grip in your hair, your head falling backwards until it was against his shoulder.

"Don't you dare to do that again," he whispered in your ear, his voice growling, so raspy that it did not even feel human anymore. "Don't make me hurt you, sweet doe."

You felt your nose itching as the tears started to escape from your eyes, though you were confused about the reason behind them. Pleasure, pain, fear. All emotions that overwhelmed your senses and confused your mind as Cregan's hands touched your body without shame at all. Such a devilish act had you wondering what you have done to deserve it, or if your lover will ever forgive you for this adulterous sin.

"I'm going to make you mine," he said, "I'm going to fill you with my cum and make you my mate and you will take it."

"P-please, no…" you mumbled, sobbing already as he kept fucking your thighs. "J-just let me- let me go, please."

"Why would I do that?" He asked, his words being followed by a moan, "I've tasted you already, my sweet thing… How am I supposed to let you go after I've become addicted to the way you taste? To the way your sweet cries beg me to keep going. Oh, my doe, you're asking me something completely impossible."

"I won't tell anyone, please… please, m-my lord-"

A loud chuckle was heard, echoing in the open space and causing you shivers down your spine. You soon felt his fat, thick head brushing against your drenching entrance and he slowly started to push inside of your tight walls. Your eyes widened as his thick cock spreaded your insides in such a painful way that made your mouth drop open for the intrusion.

"S-stop!" You yelped, trying to move your hips away, but his hips were impossibly strong, "It hurts! Please, stop!"

"Sh, sh… it's okay," he cooed, his voice shaking and unsteady, "just take it, doe, feel my cock spreading you open… Your cunt is so fucking tight."

"S-so big… Gods!" You cried out. "Please!"

"It's okay," he repeated, using the same tone as before. Hisses leaving his lips as he sinks deeper into you, "you need to get used to me, sweetling. I plan to fuck this little pussy every day from now on."

Your eyes clenched shut as he pushed harder until you were able to feel his heavy sack against your skin. Cregan pushed your head down until your cheek was pressed against the dried leaves in the ground. Your arse up in the air gave him the perfect view of your tight hole greedily receiving his cock. You would say it hurted you, but your cunt was taking him so well, eager for more.

He started to move, slowly at first, he wanted to make sure you were able to feel every inch of his pulsing cock, every vein in it. Your walls would squeeze him tightly, clenching around him everytime he would bury himself inside you. Your mouth remained open, and your eyes remained closed. He was filling you up so well.

The sound of your wetness was heard even when your moans were getting louder. It was such an obscene view, the way he would slowly pound against you just so he can watch how your creamy cunt left his length soaking with your juices. His eyes were fixated on that part of your body, bewitched by the scene, completely lost in the feeling and the rush of lust running through his veins. His big hands spreaded your arse cheeks just so he can have a better view; his animalistic side took over him as soon as he saw your tight hole greedily clenching, as if it was begging to be filled too.

His nails dug into the skin of your hips, and soon his thrust became harder. He kept the same velocity as before, just that now he made them deeper and stronger. You started to get used to the way he would move, the fact that he started slow made you adjust to his size and actually find some pleasure in his thrust. Your hands gripped the dirt under your body as you were desperately looking for something to hold on to. His pounding getting wilder with each passing second, as if he was growing desperate to feel you again as soon as he could.

You found yourself enjoying it, and feeling guilty about it… your lover was somewhere around the woods, wandering around the acres trying to discover something new. But then something happened, the mere thought of him finding you like this, with Cregan's cock buried in the deepest spot of your cunt, make you drool and clench around the man that was restlessly fucking you. Cregan hummed as your walls tightened around him, and that would only make him go faster.

"You finally are starting to enjoy this, aren't you, my doe?" he teased, squeezing the soft skin of your arse before slapping it, "I'm gonna make you my sweet little mate, darling, I'm never going to get tired of fucking this tiny little hole of yours."

"Mhm… I- I…" you intended to say something, but nothing would come out, he fucked you dumb.

"I'm going to breed you, sweet thing, I'll- fuck," he interrupted his words with a loud groan as he looked down, "I'll make sure to fill you up with my seed every fucking night until you're swollen with my pups."

The way he spoke to you, so shamelessly and unhinged, made you get even more aroused. The thought of being used by him once again stopped making you feel scared, and started to make you feel excited. Your mind sent you images of how good it would feel to have his load dripping from your cunt. But you were not supposed to be enjoying this, you were supposed to be scared, screaming out of fear, not pleasure. This was so wrong.

But it felt so fucking good.

"I will knot you, I will claim you as mine forever," he panted, fastening his pace to an animalistic speed. "I will claim this delicious cunt of yours every fucking night only to make you remember to whom you belong to."

"Yes…" you softly said, barely audible. But Cregan was able to hear it, and that only made him go harder, faster, deeper.

"Yes?" He chuckled, a moan escaping his lips soon after, "Say it."

You drooled under his touch, moaning uncontrollably loud as he kept moving without stopping any second. The sound of your bodies slapping against each other grew louder, both of you were consumed by the desire and lust that you did not care for anything anymore. Your mind went foggy again, and the same feeling was installed in your gut as you desperately tried to move your hips against his.

"Say it!" he repeated, thrusting harder. His sack smacking against your clit, adding more stimulation that made your legs shake.

"Please…" you managed to say, a thin, weak voice that was barely heard. "Oh! Gods, yes!"

"Look how desperate you are for my knot now, my sweet doe," he mockingly laughed, breathing heavily and grunting, "I knew you wanted this as much as I did."

"F-fill me…" you cried out, your cheek bruised with the movement against the rough dirt under you, "oh, yes! yes, please!"

"You're mine now, remember that, little one."

Those were his last words before he started to moan and groan as loud as you. His sweet and obscene sounds were making you wetter, your slick falling to the ground as you felt the head of his thick cock kissing your insides each time he would bury himself in you. He managed to find that sweet spot inside of you, and once his moans turned higher, you felt him stretching you even more.

You froze as you felt him spreading you so much that you thought it would rip you apart. The delicious mixture between the pain and pleasure made you come undone almost immediately; your cum gushing out of your cunt as your vision became blurry and your whole body shook. You soaked him completely, even staining your dress in the process. The pleasure was overwhelming, like flames wrapping your body and making it burn.

It became worse, because Cregan was too focused on searching for his own release that he did not realize how overstimulated you were. You bit your lip so hard that drops of blood fell down on it, Cregan's length going in and out of your abused cunt as rolled his eyes and gasped loudly.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his cum painting your walls as you mewled under him. Your hips were still twitching, your legs shaking, and your face soaked with tears of genuine pleasure. Cregan thrust a few times before his knot swelled so much that he was not able to move anymore. Your lower belly had a bump now, as strings of his release filled your insides. You felt so good.

"Take it all," he grunted, "you're mine now, you belong to me…"

He leaned over, leaving soft and careful kisses on your clothed back as his hands roamed around your trembling body. Your dress was still covering those parts of your body, but you were still able to feel how hot his skin was. He was burning, and you were melting in his arms. He started to whisper soft words, but some of them were almost impossible to understand. His soft touch was a big contrast to his prior actions, but you were not complaining.

"So good," he praised you, "so fucking good. You took me so well, such a good little girl you are."

"M-my lord…" you tiredly said, your eyes closing by themselves as a sudden tiredness washed over your body.

"Sh, don't say anything…" he cooed to you, "just go to sleep, my sweet doe, I'll keep you safe forever."

And for some reason, you believed him. The last thing you felt before passing out, was Cregan pulling out, and his seed quickly falling down from you.

Inevitably, and drunk by pleasure, you smiled.

#cregan x reader #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd au #hotd smut #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house stark #house of the dragon

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frozenmoonshine · 5 months

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Headcanon - Hanma Shuuji as your boyfriend

Ok, I hate myself for writing this, 'cause I hate this bitch just as much as Pissaki, but I've been fighting my intrusive fluffy thoughts about him and they won, sooo here they are:

Beware of insinuated hetero relationship, f!reader, and common terms of endearment.

He's a flirt, definitely. He knows he gets lots of attention from the fairer sex simply for being tall and good looking, but he also loves the fact that he's a smooth talker and can get pretty much any girl to fall for him. And he's not better than doing just that, simply because he needs some amusement in his life. Talk about being a piece of shit, going around breaking hearts for fun.

‌However, if he genuinely falls for someone, he basically does a 180⁰ turn and is the most loyal lover you could get! He will, most definitely and undeniably, try to make his SO jealous by casually flirting left and right, just because he can, and he enjoys seeing your frustrated, annoyed, jealous face. However, if you get jealous or hurt for real, he will genuinely freak out, and will try his best to reassure you that he loves you and that he was just messing with you. You are the only one for him, after all, his safe haven and his light! If he realizes that he stepped overboard with his "jokes", he will change his behaviour immediately. Idk why, but he just gives me the vibe of someone who perfectly understands boundaries, and he will choose to honor his commitments.

‌He himself is not jealous at all, and no matter what you may do, he wouldn't get jealous. The bastard is just so cocky and aware of his desirability (even tho he overestimates himself quite a lot), it's unnerving! But unless he straight up catches you "red handed" with another guy, he won't be jealous in the slightest. And if that happens, if you do cheat on him, then he might just beat your side piece to a pulp, and walk out on you like you never even existed. He will be heartbroken about it for a long time, tho.

‌Don't do him dirty, even as annoying and flawed as he is, he is still worth it! He can be super loving and affectionate in private, and he will be your no. 1 cheerleader, in whatever you're aspiring to achieve. Tell him all about your adventures tho, he loves a good story!

‌He gets too easily bored, so he would fall head over heels for someone who can engage him in deep and interesting conversations, and be a bit of a tease as well, just enough to always keep him on the edge of his seat, but not to overdo it. After all, he is the tease one in the relationship, and he doesn't like the idea of giving up that title.

‌Speaking of him being a tease... yes, he's absolutely insufferable! In every sense. (Yes, that too!)

‌Dates with him are always so random and spontaneous, like, he'd take you on a bike ride to the beach at 3 AM, and you'd make sand castles in the dead of the night, just because. It's totally not because he's secretly a hopeless romantic and wanted to watch the sunrise with you, btw. Or he might get you out of your school/work just to take you to the rooftop of the highest building in his neighborhood, where you guys can throw water baloons on the passers-by down there, and photograph their reactions. Or you two would be in a middle of a rollercoaster ride and he'd scream into your ear: "Babe, let's go have a picnic in the woods, this ride is boring!" The worst best part - his idea of a "picnic" is pranking hikers by making weird noises. At least one thing is for sure with him - there is never a single dull moment!

‌But even as the chaos elemental that he is, he is actually looking for (inner) peace. He would want to feel safe and taken care of in a relationship, and I can picture him falling for his childhood friend. If not that, then he'd definitely go for the cozy, domestic, girl-next-door type. Despite what he shows to the outer world, he just craves familiarity and warmth.

‌His friend-turned-girlfriend definitely calls him Shuu-chan. He pretends it annoys him, but there's nothing he loves hearing more. And I will die on that hill if need be!

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokrev headcanons #tr hanma #hanma shuuji #hanma headcanons #hanma x reader #hanma x you #hanma x y/n #tokyo revengers manga #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma shuuji x you #hanma shuuji x y/n #shuuji hanma

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dcartcorner · 7 months

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a fantasy/dnd au because i can't help myself and the thought of ancient blue dragon simon who disguises himself as a human brings me joy.

please enjoy this small one shot ft. s1 adventuring crew (please excuse any errors, writing is not my strong suit!)

Rumours at the Tavern Characters: Tim, Simon, Sasha, Martin, Jon Ships: none

It wasn’t what Tim would consider a nice tavern. He had performed in nicer ones, ones where the counters were meticulously cleaned and the patrons were at least passably polite to the serving staff, and a mug of ale would set you back a silver piece. This place was not quite like that.

Then again, Tim had been to worse sorts of dives.

The Lazy Storm sat right smack in the middle of the two kinds of taverns, perched on the cliff side overlooking the choppy seas of the western coast, amidst the fjords in the town of Killn’s Rest. Not a bad place, not a good place. Just a place, somewhere to find some warmth, a quick meal, and something to drink. It was also the sort of tavern that didn’t take fire hazards all that seriously, if the number of people making merry that evening within its walls was any indication of the owner’s outlook on safety. It was busy, to the point where crowds spilled out onto the street even though the summer had come to a close and the winter, with its biting chill, was fast approaching.

Perhaps that’s why Tim noticed him - the old man. Because he was sitting on the bar top.

There were few other seats around. Sasha had managed to charm their way to a table of their own earlier in the night while Martin tried to see about rooms, and their party had stayed planted at said table all night as the crowds slowly but surely filtered in for the evening. They were lucky, in this regard, as many other people were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder. Not that old man, though. Perched on the edge of the bar like a bird, smiling kindly at the person next to him.

And his choice of seat was not the only peculiar thing about him, Tim thought. He wore clothing that Tim could only describe as ornate. If this was one of those nice taverns Tim had played in, he might have expected that sort of the look, but this wasn’t one of those places. This was the Lazy Storm, and that man was incredibly overdressed.

“It’s weird, right?” Tim said aloud. Martin looked up, then glanced around. Sasha craned her neck to look at him. Jon didn’t look up from his book. Tim nodded in the direction of the old man. “Someone dressed like that in a place like this. That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sasha shrugged.

“Where?” Martin asked.

“Good on him, getting dressed up to go out for a night,” said Sasha.

“I think it’s weird,” said Tim. Because it was.

“Where?” Martin asked again. “Oh. Him? I mean. I suppose it’s… well, it’s a little odd.” The twist of a frown at the corners of Martin’s mouth. “Someone should offer him a seat.”

“Seems happy enough where he is,” Sasha said with a huff of a laugh as the other man at the bar leaned closer to the old man and whispered something to him.

“Could we please focus,” Jon finally interjected, shutting the book.

Tim rolled his eyes as he took a swig of his drink. It wasn’t silver coin ale. This was a copper-piece-per-tankard-ale, and it tasted like it. Which was to say, it tasted like a good night in the making.

“Have any of you actually asked anyone about any jobs yet?” Jon said.

“Asked just about as many people as you,” Tim said. By this, Tim meant: none.

“There’s a rat problem in the sewers,” Sasha said, “according to one guard. Doesn’t pay well, but at least it pays.”

“There are bandits, too,” Martin added. “Uh, just out east of here. Somewhere. Apparently they have a den in the woods? But I think someone might’ve already taken that one.”

“Mm.” Jon was not impressed. He looked over at Tim. “Anything?”

Tim raised his hands. “Don’t look at me, I can get a job whenever.” Plenty of people out there who were willing to pay for some good music. “Or did you forget who bought the rooms and drinks?”

Jon leaned his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands momentarily. Then looked up at Tim and said, “Could you please just. Ask.”

“Jon, maybe we should just… take a night off?” Martin suggested. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing…”

Jon shot him a look and that was the end of that conversation.

Well, didn’t matter. Jon didn’t have to join them in having a good night if he didn’t want to. Tim wasn’t going to let it bother him, and he got up to go order another drink with his own hard earned money, ignoring how much lighter his coin purse was compared to earlier that day.

Why was it his problem anyway, that they didn’t have much in the way of coin? He wasn’t going to let it get to him. It wasn’t getting to him. He and Sasha and Martin were just some poor souls dragged along on Jon’s pointless quest to find some answers that had nothing to do with any of them. So why did it matter?

It didn’t matter.

Dammit.

The old man was not the first person he asked that night about a job. As he waited for a drink he asked the person to his left and to his right, but neither of them were keen on talking - and it took him a little too long to realize they were part of their own adventuring party based on the matching bands on their arms, and wouldn’t be sharing any information with him. He tried to ask the bartender as well, but she was too busy to give him any answer that was not a look of inconvenience.

Tim sighed. And he kept asking, until finally his route around the tavern brought him to the old man at the bar. Sat there, dressed strangely, looking for all the world like he should be just about anywhere else.

“Are you quite alright?” the old man asked him. Tim blinked. “Not that I mind, but I’ve been told it’s rude to stare.”

Had he been staring? “Sorry,” Tim said. The old man smiled at him.

“Something I can do for you?” the old man asked.

Tim looked around briefly. The other person with whom the old man had been speaking earlier that night was gone. “Don’t suppose there is,” Tim said. “Unless you know of any get rich quick jobs around this place.”

The old man chuckled. “Well now, I can think of a few, but I’m not entirely sure those are the type you’re looking for,” he said, resting his hands on the head of his cane which he had propped up on the empty edge of one of the bar-stools. “Tough times, out there. Or so I hear. Something about the supply and demand of it all, I think. Too many adventurers, too few problems that need solving! At least around these parts.” The old man sighed thoughtfully. “This coast isn’t what it used to be. Time was you couldn’t take two steps on the road without running into bandits or cultists or a proper mountain troll. Now you’d be lucky to find a good sized rat nest to clean up.”

“Yeah, well. Killing rats doesn’t pay well,” Tim said.

The old man smiled, watching Tim over the rim of his glasses. His eyes were sharply blue, Tim noticed. “No,” the man agreed. “No it doesn’t.” He tilted his head. “Terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go further afield to find anything.”

“Thanks anyway,” Tim said, defeated.

“Although,” the old man said as Tim was turning away. Tim paused and looked back at him. “I’ve heard a rumour. There have been a few ships that have come into the harbour with some particularly strange news out of the Shivering Straight. Up north. Word is there have been a handful of whaling ships that have gone missing around Helkelson Bay. Only a couple of survivors. Those that do manage to best the frostbite say… well. You know how sailors can be, always creating the most fanciful stories. A ghost ship, they say! The mayor of Helkelson isn’t altogether convinced it’s anything so peculiar as that, though I hear he’s offering a handsome reward to anyone willing to… solve the problem. Whatever that problem may be.”

“Helkelson?” Tim said.

“That’s right,” the old man replied with a smile. “Ask around the docks, I’d say. Plenty of merchant ships coming and going that way. Of course, it’s only a rumour.”

Tim smiled back. “Better than nothing.”

It was at that moment the old man’s companion returned and gave Tim a wary look. Tim took it as his cue to leave with a nod of thanks and an imaginary tip of the hat before he returned to the table to join his companions.

“Let me start,” he said to them, “by saying you’re welcome. Now, any of you been to the Shivering Straight?”

#tma #the magnus archives #dnd au #fantasy au #tim stoker #sasha james #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #simon fairchild #fic #one shot #yes tim is a bard #fanart

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joelmillers-whore · 8 months

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I've Got Nothing Left To Hide

summary: it has been a month since your injury, of taking it slow, and helping your father out more. and you’re sick of it. ever since you fully recovered you saw less and less of joel. actually, both miller brothers seem to be avoiding you and you’re determined to find out why.

pairing: joel miller x reader, tommy & reader (platonic)

word count: 3.5K

series or one-shot

warnings: mature, language, cock-blocker tommy, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, canon timeline (sort of), jackson era, post-outbreak, slight angst, joel avoiding his feelings, ends on a cliffhanger (sorry not sorry)

A/N: got a little carried away. again. i am so thrilled that ya’ll wanted another part of this. i was hoping that you would because i had so much fun writing it. so, here we go. i was kind of going for more background on the whole dynamic between reader and joel and reader and tommy. it’s not super joel x reader heavy but i think i’m going to do anther part and explore their relationship more. let me know what ya’ll think of this part, i would love to hear some feedback or some ideas for other parts. thank you <3

read the prequel here

Spring was officially on the way. Every time you stepped outside, you spotted a new sign that Mother Nature was giving you. Like last week, in the middle of your daily walk around town, you’d stopped and looked down, seeing a patch of half-frozen grass at your feet, the beginnings of vibrant green peeking out of the snow.

For as much as you couldn't wait until it was spring, there was still more winter to be had. A crisp chill still clung to the air, which made you wrap your worn sheep-wool jacket tighter around your body.

You unlatched the bar of wood that was slotted in place across the solid, wooden door of the church, pushing the doors open and taking a deep breath when the air hit your lungs. You’d been breathing in stale air the whole day, so this was a welcome relief.

You took a step back, taking in the view of the town from your elevated advantage. Your eyes snagged on the clinic across the street, reminding you that it hadn’t been that long since you’d been back home.

You snapped your eyes shut, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories, the screaming, the pain. Your heartbeat was erratic, your breathing coming out harsher as your mind assaulted you with images that you’d tried hard to forget.

It was like you had been transported back in time and you felt weak, unable to protect yourself from the looming threat. You clenched your teeth, making your jaw ache. You’re safe. You’re not in that cabin anymore. You’re home.

You never wanted to feel that helpless again, and you were determined not to, if anyone ever let you out of your gilded cage. Tommy and your father had taken it upon themselves to make every decision regarding your safety without consulting the one person that it would affect the most; you. It was driving you to the edge of madness.

They were always keeping an eye on you, making sure that at least one of them was with you at all times. You’d made one mistake, one small fucking mistake, and now you were paying for it. As if the scar above your belly button wasn’t enough proof.

Tommy had restricted your duties and practically barred you from going out on patrol, in no uncertain terms. And your father had been all too happy to jump at the opportunity, insisting that you could be of more use to him and the community if you helped out around the church.

He was obvious in how he wanted you to follow in his footsteps and one day take over as minister of the church, but that was the last thing that you wanted.

You wanted freedom, something different, more adventure. Not being chained to a pulpit for the rest of your life, however long that might be. But your father was the only family you had left, ever since the end of the world. It had been you and him, and you’d be remiss if you didn’t at least try to make an effort. You and your father had come a long way since arriving in town.

You could remember the day vividly when Tommy had found you both just outside of Jackson, starving, bloody, and bruised. He had asked what either of you could bring to their community, in terms of skills. You had been surprised when he’d accepted you, your father’s only skill being that he was a minister before the outbreak.

But Tommy, being Tommy had seen past that. Seen past the lack of skills and past the teenager who was afraid of her own shadow.

Aside from giving the folks of Jackson a distraction, some way to rationalize the direction the world was heading, you both couldn’t be much use to them. The old man and the kid. But again, the people of Jackson had surprised you, making you feel welcome quickly. It wasn’t for free, while you found your footing, you had also done your part to help out around town.

Even at sixteen, Tommy and Maria had treated you better than some of the adults in town had a first. You were someone, even back then, who wasn’t trusting when it came to new people. You’d had your guard up at all times, starting fights with other kids your age until Tommy had stepped in.

He had taken you under his wing, not pushing you to open up, but more so guided you and gave you the space so that in your own time you came around. He’s nurtured you and taught you useful skills; mainly how to hold and shoot a gun.

It wasn’t long before you were tagging along on patrol, Tommy claiming that you were a natural, and slowly building up the courage to leave town on your own, or with your own patrol partner. He had built you up from a volatile kid who could barely throw a punch, to someone who could take down a fully grown man in under two minutes.

You couldn’t give him all the credit though, you’d worked your ass off, turning yourself into a human weapon. Refined and deadly. There wasn’t a day that went by when you didn’t think about how grateful you were that he had taken a chance on you and your father.

Years had passed since you had first arrived in Jackson, but those lessons that Tommy had instilled in you still remained. A hoarse voice called your name, pulling you from your reminiscent thoughts, and making you turn toward it. It was your father. He was walking toward you, the slight limp on his right side more prominent now than it had been back then.

Your face dropped as he approached, emotion bubbling in your throat when you looked at him. His skin was almost translucent, pale when the light hit it. And the colour of his eyes dulled as each year came and went, the weathered crinkles on the edges deepening whenever he smiled or laughed.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking him in, hoping to save a mental snapshot of him while he was still here.

Realistically, you knew that he didn’t have much time left, but the unrealistic part of yourself, the part that wanted him to last forever, ignored the realism and gave him a smile. No matter how many times you told him to take it easy, and remind him that he wasn’t fifty anymore, he wouldn’t hear it.

He’d brush you off and mumble something about how age was just a number. He didn’t want you to worry about him, he’d said. And you would drop it, carrying on like nothing was wrong.

As your father approached you, he gripped the back of a pew, putting all of his weight onto it as if it was a struggle to stand. Your eyes dipped to his hand, but his voice brought you back.

“Everything okay?”, he asked.

You exhaled an annoyed puff of air. If there was a running tally of how many times in the past month your father asked you how you were, it would probably venture in the thousands. He was being overprotective and it was getting on your last nerve.

You appreciated that he cared about you but at a certain point, it was too much. Between both him and Tommy, you were one more question away from ripping your hair out.

“Fine”, you replied, snippily. You cleared your throat harshly, your telltale sign that you wanted to move on from the topic of conversation.

Your father’s face softened, noticing how you were folding in on yourself, avoiding his eyes, making yourself almost invisible. You were uncomfortable.

“You seen Tommy today?”, he asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, surprisingly, you hadn’t. Which wasn’t out of the norm, Tommy was a busy guy and you understood the shift in his priorities as the community continued to grow. But lately, he had been checking in on you more and more, even since you’d gotten injured while on patrol.

You sighed, letting yourself think back to what had transpired after Joel had gotten you back to Jackson. Joel. You could still feel the ghost of his deft fingers trailing your arms, the contrast of his callouses and the softness of his touch as he held you close to your body, cradling you like you were something precious.

Your mind had blocked out a lot from the incident, preventing you from remembering key details. But you remembered Joel.

You remembered his strong arms helping you onto his horse, or the way that his lips melded with yours as you kissed him in the clinic. You brought two fingers to your lips, trying to memorialize how it felt to finally kiss Joel. His gruff voice echoed in your mind, constantly on a loop of we’re almost home and hold on a little longer and don’t give up yet, darlin’.

Somehow, through the delirious fog, it had been his voice that broke through and it was the one thing that had tethered you to this world, not letting you leave just yet.

That had been the bulk of what you remembered, aside from the searing pain in your stomach from the stab wound. You could thank those fucking raiders for that one.

To your surprise, it hadn’t taken all that long for the wound itself to heal, the patch of skin now only an ugly and scarred reminder of how you couldn’t ever have your guard down like that again.

According to the doctor, Joel had gotten you back to Jackson just in time. He had said that if he had waited longer you probably wouldn’t have made it. You hadn’t been prepared to hear that, to hear that you had been that close to death.

Before you’d had a chance to spiral after hearing that cheery news, Joel had returned to his side. Stoic as ever. You’d smelled him before you had seen him, his familiar musk invading your senses wholly and completely.

You had spotted him almost immediately, meeting his huge brown eyes that, to your surprise, had already been on you. You’d been harbouring a crush on Joel for the better part of a year, Tommy insisting that you become his new patrol partner recently hadn’t helped much in quelling it either.

You’d thought that things had progressed with Joel, you’d broken through his hard exterior to the point that he now laughed at your jokes, cracking some of his own in return, and he seemed like he enjoyed your company enough when you were alone for long stretches of silence during patrol.

But now, a month after your injury, when you had kissed him and he had kissed you back, he seemed as distant as when you had first partnered up with him. And it was eating at you. You thought you had been on the same page, but clearly, you hadn’t been.

Your stomach twisted into knots when you thought about it. You couldn’t help thinking that you had fucked everything up between you.

Maybe he had just been nice, kissing you back, telling you that it had been okay, comforting you. Maybe you were reading into a simple kiss between friends.

But why then would he tell you that he wanted to kiss you? Ever since the doctor had released you, you hadn’t seen Joel around. Keeping in line with the he-was-avoiding-you train of thought.

You and Joel were friends, even though he would never admit it out loud, and you needed to confront him. If only for your own piece of mind. Your father called your name again.

“Sorry”, you mumbled, “Did you say something?”.

“All I said was that you should go take a walk around town, get some air”.

Your brows furrowed. He had been keeping a close eye on you for weeks, and now suddenly he was suggesting that you take a walk, alone. Was he trying to get rid of you?

“Why?”, you asked, skepticism lining your tone.

“You’ve been attached to my hip all day, girl. Maybe go down to the market, find us something for dinner”, he paused, rubbing his chin, “Or go find Tommy”.

And there it was. If wasn’t him keeping an eye on you, it was Tommy. You crossed your arms over your chest. An idea sparked as you thought more about your walk.

“Fine”, you started, leaning forward and pecking his cheek. “Be back soon”.

“Don’t rush”, your father called out as you crossed the church threshold.

You had been walking around town for about ten minutes, casting a tight-lined smile at anyone you passed. Your cheeks were numb, the harsh winter wind nipping at them as you continued walking through town, passing by the Tipsy Bison. You stopped in your tracks.

Would it be weird if you happened to stop by Joel’s house?

You bit your bottom lip, rolling it between your teeth. You debated the idea for all of a minute before you changed your direction, pushing the self-doubt aside as you made your way to Joel’s house. Before you knew it, you were on his front porch, inches from his door.

You were about to knock when your fist froze midway, you were hesitating. What if Joel didn’t want to see you? What if he was avoiding you for a reason?

You began to step back, your foot finding the first step, backing away slowly. Suddenly, the door whipped open and you were knocked off balance from seeing Joel, literally. You fell back, over the steps and landed on your back in the cold snow.

“Shit”, Joel mumbled, rushing toward you.

Your face was burning from embarrassment as Joel kneeled down beside you. You chuckled awkwardly, propping yourself up on your elbow. His hand rested on your knee, the sensation causing an unexpected jolt in your body.

Joel’s grip on your knee tightened ever so slightly, but he didn’t look away from your face, concentrating solely on you.

He let out a steady puff of air, “You okay?”.

You let your head fall back, chuckling humourlessly. God, could anyone ask you anything different?

You looked back at Joel, who was staring at you peculiarly, his eyes squinting.

“Peachy”, you responded, an edge to your voice.

Joel straightened, extending a hand to you. But you ignored it, getting to your feet without his help. He took a step back from you, doing so almost cautiously.

His broad frame towered over you, watching your every move as you dusted the snow off of yourself. Joel’s hands were now stuffed inside the pockets of his jeans, eyes boring into you.

“You sure?”, he asked.

You took a step forward so that you were a breath away from him. Your chest grazed his, and his breathing stuttered, the air around you suddenly thick and charged. His chest was solid and firm, your mind running rampant with the memory of it pressed against your body. You could see the way his jaw ticked as he looked down at you, the pressure looking like it could shatter his teeth at any minute.

You felt the heat of his stare, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes, your irritation too fresh to be stamped out by one heady look from him.

“Why do you care? Not like you’ve bothered to check up on me lately”.

Joel’s face fell and you instantly regretted your words. He didn’t deserve that and you didn’t know why you were lashing out at him.

“I know. ‘M sorry”, he said, his voice strained.

You finally met his face, those big, brown eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t place, something that resembled sadness. Or regret.

“Then why did you stay away?”.

He swallowed thickly and you watched his Adam’s apple bob, an unsure look on his face. His one hand went to the back of his head, rubbing nervously. Joel Miller was nervous and that made you smirk, you doubted anything made him nervous.

“I didn’t want to”, he started, inching closer to you, in hands flying to your hips. A tiny gasp left you at the contact, the skin underneath his hand burning, even though you were wearing three layers. “But I wanted to give you some space”.

A beat lingered between you before you spoke. “I don’t want any more space”.

Joel groaned, his eyes snapping shut as you let your hand drift to his beard, the scratchiness making your fingertips tingle. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your lips closing in on his mouth. You wanted to kiss him, you needed to.

It felt like you had been deprived of oxygen this whole month, waiting for that moment when you could breathe again.

Joel’s fingers grazed your chin, tilting your face closer to his. You could feel his hot breath fan your face, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Joel!”, a loud, booming voice echoed from behind you both.

He withdrew from you quickly, putting distance between the two of you. Your heart was in your throat, your nerves on fire, leaving you breathless once again. But it wasn’t in the way that you wanted. Disappointment filled you as Tommy came into view.

His eyes found yours momentarily before they settled on Joel, giving him a look that you couldn’t quite decipher.

He softened his features as he focused back on you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side.

“Hey, you”, you said.

You smiled tightly at him, feeling the awkwardness flush your cheeks, “Hi”.

“Mind if I steal her away?”, Tommy directed at Joel, who wordlessly shook his head, eyes on Tommy and not on you.

You deflated further as Tommy led you away from his brother, and back into the heart of town. You looked back, watching the tail end of Joel disappearing back into his house.

You shrugged out of Tommy’s hold, watching as he put his hands in his pockets instead, not saying a word to you.

“What do you need?”, you asked.

He looked at you strangely before he connected the dots.

“Oh, nothin’ really. Just thought I could walk you back home”.

You gawked at him, stopping in your tracks as he continued on, not taking notice of how you had stopped. When he did notice, he looked back, confusion muddling his features. You arched a brow.

“So, you just happened to stumble upon me when I was with Joel and decided I needed to be walked home?”, you asked, annoyance lacing every word.

Tommy wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

“What do you want me to say?”, he said, an exasperated sigh leaving him, his arms thrown up dramatically.

“I want a straight answer, for starters”.

He paused for a moment and you thought that he would blow you off, tell you that you were being a child and reading into things. But when he didn’t, you were surprised.

“Honestly, I don’t think it's a good idea for you two to be spendin’ time together”, he started, taking a breath, “And from what I just saw, I don’t think your Daddy would take too kindly to the idea either”.

Now your blood was boiling. Where did Tommy get off talking to you like that? Telling you who you could and couldn’t spend time with. You marched up to him, poking a finger into his chest.

“I am an adult, Tommy. And contrary to popular belief, I can handle my own. So, I don’t think you should be poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Because if you keep it up, we’re going to have some problems, Miller”.

Tommy opened his mouth to say something but you were gone before he had the chance to say anything, stomping all the way back to your house, a cloud of anger and indignation burrowing in your gut. You pulled open your front door, seeing your father in his comfy chair by the fireplace. You mumbled a hello and locked yourself in your room.

You were pacing, your feet wearing a hole in the hardwood. You stopped, an idea forming. A wicked, tempting fate idea. You dashed to your door, pausing a moment to listen for any indication of your father. The house was silent save for the usual groaning and creaking.

Before you could change your mind, you pulled open your door, and sprinted out of the house and back toward Joel’s. You’d made it to the other side of town in record time, your chest heaving as you tried to level out your breathing.

You pounded on his door, waiting for him to answer it. When he did, you swallowed thickly, eying the way his shirt was pulled tautly over his chest. You licked your lips subconsciously, not missing the way that Joel’s gaze dipped to them.

“Can I come in?”, you asked, breathless.

Joel hesitated, hand gripping the door above his head tightly, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. He seemed to be mulling the idea over in his head.

You expected him to turn you away, to tell you that it was a bad idea that you were at his house so late, that people in town would get the wrong idea about you and him.

But you were past the point of caring, you were past the point of holding back.

“Yeah, come on in, darlin’”.

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the0maski · 10 months

Text

It’s LU canon that Time writes letters to Malon to keep her updated about his adventures and well-being. That made me think on how well Time can write in hylian language, since he grew up in the forest, and that the kokiri probably had their own language and alphabet.

And then I remembered that Malon’s mother was hinted to be gerudo.

So my headcanon is that Malon not only helped Time with the hylian language, but also taught him some words in gerudo that she uses every day.

Same goes for Time, there are some words in kokiri that don’t have a direct translation and so Malon learns some words. And exactly like that are Time letters to Malon. It’s starts as an normal hylian sentence and, in the middle, there are suddenly two other words that are clearly not the same language not even the same alphabetic letters, just to end in one hylian word that clearly doesn’t belong there.

The only one that can read a little more of what Time is writing is Wild, because he knows how to read the gerudo letters. Everyone else is just pitying Malon, because of the mess her husband writing is.

(Also I think Legend can read some of the kokiri letters, because the kokiri are still there in the downfall timeline, based on the kokiri costume from Triforce Heros. So he would have found some inscriptions on old trees or so in the lost woods and tried to decipher them, learning to read some letters)

#linked universe #linked universe time #lu time #lu malon #lu wild #lu legend #lu chain #lu thoughts #lu headcanons #lu malink

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captain-mj · 2 months

Note

First of all, I love your writing and your fics. I love your IWTV au so much. And I'm a fan of your other stuff.

Sooo I have some ideas I'd like to share with you , dear MJ. I was thinking of an isolated Ghost. He almost hides himself from people, some place like Alaska or in the wild. Somewhere cold and out of humans, so he can be all by himself. He doesn't want to be around people because of his past, and he hides himself from people. He lives in a cold forest or somewhere unreachable in winter because of the snow. He lives in a cabin.

And there is Soap, who goes on a camping trip with himself after breaking up with his boyfriend. Thinking that camping would help him get better emotionally. But it starts snowing, and he is not prepared, and he gets lost in the wild. He is desperate and cold. While searching for help and walking for hours. He comes across the cabin where Ghost is staying. Ghost doesn't welcome Soap at first, but because of the heavy snow, they are stuck for about a week or a month. So Ghost helps Soap get better, and they start to get close and hot...

I think I explained it in so much detail, but you can change it however you want. I'm always hungry for your stuff, in any form. And feel free to ignore this if you don't want to write about it. And of course, please don't mind my English; it's not my first language.

Ily,take care.

Very much can do that!! Yes!

Ghost sat in his cabin up the mountains, using his sniper to look down at everyone. He knew that right now there were two different groups of people camping. One further down that seemed to be full of experienced campers and one a bit higher up that set up their spot for their view. They were way too close for comfort.

Neither were particularly good company. No one was.

Ghost hated people. Especially fuckers who came on to the mountain for camping.

He had hoped this secluded place in the middle of nowhere would provide peace. Instead he just dealt with this.

Ghost put his gun away. It was for hunting and he was worried any gunshots would send the campers into a frenzy. He had plenty of food for the winter thanks to Price sending him stuff. Price insisted he just used Ghost's pension for it but he didn't believe him. Old sap probably used his own money.

Ghost went to his cabin and cleaned instead. Not that it really needed it. Besides the fact that he meticulously cleaned most of the time, nothing he did made much of a mess. It was mostly just dusting the books off to make sure they didn't get dry rot.

The snow started. A lot harsher than he had been expecting. It started to pile up on his porch and it made the roof creak a little.

Ghost imagined it caving in and crushing him. Suffocating under the weight of wood and snow.

There were worse deaths.

Further down the mountain, Soap went a little away from the group he came up with. He set up his tent and planned to relax for the next two days.

No cell service which was exactly what he needed. No worrying Mam, no angry ex trying to get him back. Just silence.

Soap was so bored. He supposed it was his fault for expecting anything less. He was not a person that sat still often. Always searching for the next thing. The next adventure.

This did not feel like an adventure. It felt stale.

Soap noticed the snow so he only walked within the vicinity of his tent. He followed the protocol, but it took one stumble for him to fall out of bounds. Quickly, Soap scrambled back up and glanced at his tent. Still right there, just slightly farther than before.

Maybe some sleep would do him some good.

Soap settled into his tent, ignoring the snow piling on top of it. It just kept coming. Covering him in a freezing cold blanket of water.

The tent had a hole in it. He had just bought it, he had no idea what he did to cause it. Although small, it was definitely messing up the whole insulation part of this. It also let snow in which started to melt, getting him and his clothes wet.

Frustration started to bubble over. He wasn't experienced at camping but he wasn't an idiot. This wouldn't work. He'd have to either fix it or leave and he wasn't sure how he could even leave.

Thanks to the water, his arm was soaked, cold digging in so hard it felt like actual needles. He tried to dry himself off but the whole situation wasn't working.

Reluctantly, he ignored that he was still slightly wet and got dressed. He'd just go out for help.

The people he came with weren't there. Or at least, they weren't where he thought they were. He didn't want to believe the guide they came would be so stupid as to not count the people before evacuating if they did, but he also said he wanted seclusion and lied about being experienced.

Maybe they assumed he already left?

Soap panicked for a moment. He allowed himself that. Before he straightened up and started thinking. There was no way he was the only person on the mountain. While he couldn't make it all the way down on his own, he was sure someone had to be there. It was mid morning, he had time before it got dark and cold.

Ghost sat on his porch close to twilight. He smoked silently, watching the trees.

The man had been walking around his property for a few minutes and Ghost was trying to figure out if he was a real person or not.

He sighed and whistled, watching him yank his head around painfully to stare at him.

"You okay?" Ghost called out.

Soap stepped a bit closer, no longer shivering. He was also holding his shoulder. "Are you God?"

"Oh for fuck's sake. Sure. I'm God. Where are your things?"

"I took them."

"Why are you jacketless in the middle of the snow?"

"It had gotten wet. Was trying to dry it out but it didn't really work..."

Ghost sighed. "Come closer."

Soap stumbled to the steps. His pants up to his knees were soaked and his face had pale skin with rosy patches.

Ghost sighed in frustration and opened the door. "Come on." He'd get the guy warm and then send him on his way. The snow wasn't too bad yet. Neither of them had a radio to know that it was predicted to get much worse.

So Ghost accepted him in and had him sit in front of the fire. He found a dry blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. "You okay?"

Soap started to shiver.

"Guess not."

"Got a drink?" Soap rasped out.

Ghost poured him a nip of bourbon and handed him.

"Don't suppose you got Scotch?" Soap said softly before knocking back the drink. He grimaced and Ghost was sure he heard a mutter under his breath about British people having shit taste.

Ghost watched the way the alcohol raced through him. Color almost immediately back in his face. "Thanks. Name's Soap by the way."

"...Ghost. The fuck you doing up there?" Ghost went by his callsign since there was no way someone would name their kid Soap. He thought of asking him about his shoulder but decided against it.

Soap sighed. "Trying to clear my head." He flinched when Ghost laughed at him.

"Piss poor job of preparing."

"Aye. Suppose I thought myself a survivalist." Soap laughed softly before averting his eyes. He looked embarrassed.

Good.

Ghost put the bottle of bourbon next to him. "Drink as much as you want." He knew he'd barely make a dent on the bottle.

Soap only took what he had to. He managed to get himself warm.

Ghost looked out at the sky. Too dark to send him anywhere.

"In the morning, I'll show you the way down the mountain."

"Yes, sir." Soap looked at him. He seemed almost indignant. Like Ghost was being bossy.

Ghost bit his tongue. "fuck off. Go to bed near the fire. You'll need to stay warm all night."

Soap nodded and laid down. "Don't have to tell me twice."

Ghost went to his bedroom, brandishing a knife. He stayed there and watched the door all night. Just in case. Just in case.

Soap stayed in the living room and he tried to Keep warm. Ghost would come in like clockwork to put more wood on the fire.

During the night, the snow came down harder. Before long, it was at the door, covering the entire porch.

Ghost groaned as he watched it. While yes, he may be able to go down by himself, he'd never be able to get Soap down the mountain as well. As much as he hated it, he also likely wouldn't be able to make it back.

Soap stirred and groaned, holding his shoulder. He saw the outside and before long came to the same realization that Ghost did. "So we bunking together?" It sounded sheepish, like there was a risk that Ghost would throw him out into the cold.

Ghost sighed. "Yeah we are. I have a guest room that i haven't used in ages. I'll get it set up."

"And I had to sleep on the floor... why?"

"Be closer to the fire." Ghost left him alone to brush the dust off of everything. He had planned to turn it into a gym or something equally useful, but never did. The stupid room came with the house.

Once it was livable, Ghost came back out. "You can go in. I'll make breakfast. We'll be up here a while. It's still snowing so it's hard to tell."

"You have a vehicle or anything?"

"Nope. We'll be walking."

Soap cursed in a funny language and stretched, back popping. "How long you guessing?"

"A week. Minimum."

Soap winced. "Sorry for the... everything."

Ghost stared at him for a moment before just going in. He cooked breakfast silently and Soap sat nearby. Occasionally, he'd start talking, but Ghost didn't respond to any of it.

"Oh come on. You're going to be stuck with me for a week. Might as talk to me. What are you doing up here so isolated?"

Ghost put a plate of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns in front of him. He sat across from him and yanked his mask up just enough to start eating.

His scars had the effect he hoped. Soap winced at the harsh smile cut into Ghost's face. "Aye. I see."

"Good." Ghost answered, shoveling food down. He mentally counted through his supplies. He had enough for a few months, so with two people, it should be fine. This bastard was getting none of his ice cream though.

Soap ate quietly before swallowing. "Gang?"

"Military." Ghost admitted begrudgingly.

"Aye. I see. I'm a sergeant right now."

"Retired." Ghost drank some of his tea.

Soap nodded. "Look, I'm not trying to be an ass here. Really. You don't have to talk to me. But. Do you have any coffee?"

Ghost stared at him for a minute before getting up and checking. "I got instant and regular."

"Got a coffee pot?"

"French press. It was a gift."

Soap's eyebrows scrunched together. "You know how to use it?"

"...No."

"Fuck."

They put their heads together and worked with the French Press until they managed to get a cup of coffee brewing. Ghost watched the stuff bubble and huffed. "Tea is easier to make."

"Coffee tastes better."

"Yeah, right." Ghost continued drinking his tea.

"Since we got it figured out, do you at least wanna cup to try your gift?"

Ghost sighed. "Yeah, why not."

Black coffee was just as dreadful as he remembered. He added some sugar, ignoring Soap's mildly judgmental gaze.

The first day was spent with Ghost trying to do his normal routine of reading or working out and Soap being incredibly bored. Ghost felt too uncomfortable to do most of his workout routine with him around and decided to give up.

"Do you have internet? Or anything? Most of my stuff was left in my tent."

Ghost sighed. "No. How far away was your tent?"

Soap hummed. "No clue honestly. I don't think it was that far, but there should be a trail of my clothing. I have no idea why I started taking it off."

"Hypothermia makes you feel warm after a while. It's some psychological thing. It's why some people who are frozen to death are found naked."

Soap grimaced at him. "That's horrifying."

Ghost shrugged and showed him the guest room. It was pretty nice, if a bit plain. Soap fell on the bed and groaned. "Firm. I like that."

Ghost hit his boots. "I'll try to find your tent tomorrow. Get some sleep."

The second day he found himself being trailed by Soap despite the asshole clearly should be staying at home. He kept touching and rubbing at his shoulder. Ghost was trying not to ask, but he'd need to eventually. If he got infected, that would make everything a lot harder.

They found his tent and Soap went searching for his phone. Unfortunately it was dead and when they got home, they found that his charger had too much water damage to help. Soap sighed and rubbed his face. "I knew I shouldn't have come out here."

"Why did you?"

Soap thought about it for a second before turning towards him. "My ex." He was careful not to include man or woman. This guy could be homophobic for all he knew.

Ghost nodded. "Got it. Their fault or yours?"

Soap blinked. "What?"

"You cheat on them and up here hiding from it? Lot of guys do. Or did you come up here because they're a right prick?"

They. Not she. They. Soap picked up on the pronouns and took a deep breath. "They asked me to leave the military. I said no. They said stuff."

Ghost tilted his head. "I see. Well. They can't exactly find you up here."

"Aye. Guess they can't." Soap smiled.

On the third day. Ghost went searching and found his dvd player and old tv. He showed Soap his dvd collection.

Soap hummed. "More romance movies than I'd expect."

"I inherited my mum's collection." Ghost lied.

"Uh huh." Soap picked a movie and put it on, happy to have something else to do besides sit there. How Ghost did it was beyond him.

On the fourth day, Soap even managed to convince Ghost to sit with him through one of the movies. It was a romance movie that Ghost had memorized. It was a film where she had to travel across Ireland and stayed with a nice Irish man throughout the journey.

Soap drank some more of the coffee and it seemed to calm him down a little.

After a bit of hesitation, Ghost looked at him. "You smoke weed?"

"No." Soap glanced at him.

"You wanna start?"

Soap took a deep breath. "Fuck it. Sure."

Ghost pulled out a joint and lit it. He took the first hit and then gave it to Soap.

Soap coughed and Ghost laughed at him. "It's a little different than a cigarette."

"Yeah, a little bit, sir." Soap smiled at him and they passed it back and forth for a bit.

Ghost felt the pretty much permanent ache throughout his body disappear. It seemed to do the same for Soap's shoulder.

They both relaxed for a bit and Soap looked over at him. "You're a cool guy, Ghost."

"Thank you." Ghost smiled at him and kept smoking. They put on another movie and relaxed for a while. It took the edge off.

Soap swallowed. "Why are you up here?"

"It sucks down there."

"Does it get lonely?"

"Sometimes." Ghost mumbled, his head falling against the couch. Around people he was usually always wide awake. Too scared. But Soap made him feel weirdly safe.

Soap fell asleep against his shoulder and Ghost followed soon after.

When they wake up, the fire had been out for hours and the house was freezing.

"Fucking hell." Ghost got up and tried to start a new fire but it wasn't sparking.

Soap shivered. "Well, that's not great. Anything i can do to help?"

Ghost checked the wood. It was fucking damp for some reason. He couldn't figure out why but that would be better for morning when he had more light. "My bedroom has the least amount of windows."

Soap's eyes gleamed as they shacked up in there. Ghost covered his windows with curtains and grabbed some more blankets as he turned on the lights.

His room was far better decorated than any other part of the house. His bed was covered in quilts and high quality soft pillows. A cabinet in the corner had tons of photos from Ghost in his time in the military. Most of them had Ghost's own face covered with marker.

"You know Captain Price?"

"Yeah, I know John." Ghost rearranged a few things and started to strip off his jacket.

Soap paused to stare, admiring the muscles that were revealed when the shirt followed right after. His pants unfortunately did not come off too. "Take off your shirt."

Soap nodded and followed the order. Was this happening? Were they about to fuck right here and right now? The worst part was he was going to let it happen.

Ghost pulled him into bed and shifted so he was fucking spooning him. "Fucking hell I was cold." He settled into the warmth and promptly closed his eyes, pretending nothing was happening.

Soap was in heaven. Or maybe hell. Either way he was getting hard and that was not great.

Ghost fell back to sleep. Soap was ridiculously hard, pressed against a beautifully muscled chest. He could feel each of Ghost's breaths with the rise and fall of it. In a desperate attempt to calm down, he thought of war. His ex. The fact that his ex was probably trying to blow up his very dead phone.

Soap thought of his ex and felt a strange lump in his throat. God he didn't want to go home. He really didn't want to. His ex would be at his heels like a baying fucking dog to nip at his fucking heels.

Soap let out a sharp noise, a bit like a sob, and quickly bit his lip to shut up.

Ghost pulled him closer. "Soap?"

"My name is Johnny."

Ghost's thumb rubbed circles in his chest. "Johnny." Oh that beautiful voice. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Simon. You okay?"

"My ex tried to hurt me. I'm military, don't know why he thought it was a smart idea. But when I defended myself, he was just... so cruel. Called me shit I never wanted to hear again. Accidentally made myself upset over it."

"I'm sorry, Johnny."

"S'okay. Nothing to do with you. You're the first person that hasn't made me feel worse honestly."

"Not worse. I'll take it." Ghost sounded a tiny bit amused. He squeezed him. "Do you feel warmer?"

"Yes. Feels nice in this bed with you." Soap didn't mean to sound quite as suggestive as he did, but Ghost noticed. His grip loosened briefly before tightening again, tangling their legs together. "Simon."

Ghost turned him onto his back and kissed him, having pulled up his mask at some point. His scars tickled a little. It was pretty nice honestly.

Soap's fingers ran down his chest to his pant's button and undid it for him. "Is this okay?"

"Should be asking you that." Ghost gruffed. "Don't have to do too much tonight, but you're hard."

"So are you. Can feel you through your jeans." Soap smiled at him. He slowly unzipped his pants and touched over Ghost's cock.

Ghost let out a small whine. "Fuck, it's been so long." He quickly unzipped Soap's pants and pulled him out, having no shame about it. His hand fit around both of them and his thumb easily ran over Soap's head.

"Me too. Won't judge you if you don't last long." Soap teased, pulling him back to kiss him again. He groaned as he thrust up. "Nice and easy, yeah?"

Ghost rutted into him and moved his hand in time. They kept kissing as his hand found a decadent rhythm, truly stretching the pleasure out for both of them.

Soap moaned and his back arched trying to press himself even closer. "Simon."

Ghost bit his lip hard and paid more attention to Soap's cock, trying to get him closer and closer. He felt him start to pant into his mouth and licked into his mouth happily.

Simon buried his face into his throat and came over his chest. Despite this, he managed to keep his hand moving so Soap followed after a moment later.

Johnny kissed him softly. "Later, if you have lube, I'll let you fuck me."

Simon wondered briefly if he was a rebound and then decided he didn't particularly care. "Okay."

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