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aenaxes-moved · 3 years

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[hunter x afab!reader] hunter thinks it's a good idea for you to learn hand-to-hand. and if it's a way for you to see him sweaty, sleeveless, and in close quarters, who are you to turn down the perfect opportunity?

warnings: unprotected vaginal sex

w/c: 4.7k

a/n: i'm a simple creature—i see the sexual tension of hand-to-hand combat, and i am brought low. also the marauder has a cargo hold for literary purposes, now. anyways enjoy my first nsfw fic on this blog. reposting bc tumblr censored me :/

“Try again,” Hunter orders as he crouches down beside where you lie sprawled, chest heaving and arms limp on the training mat. “Just like I showed you: trap the wrist, lock the arm, twist and throw.”

“Unlike you,” you wheeze, struggling to lift your head off the floor, “I’m not exactly built to throw people around.” You forego your weak attempt to get up, and you swear you feel your teeth rattle as the back of your head hits the mat with a dull thud.

You turn your head, meeting the sergeant's piercing gaze with a weary half-grimace half-grin. There’s a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes—maybe incredulity—that he might be training a half-fledged jedi in the brutally graceful art of floorslamming an opponent over a shoulder while the others had taken Omega on a trip to meet the natives. It’s something you should know well, having spent your youth under the wild and unrelenting martial acrobatics of master Voss, but at the end of the day, you would choose swordplay over brute physicality without hesitation.

Especially if you’re facing off against an opponent who can and has hefted you high above his head and practically launched you across the training mat.

If Hunter’s amused at all by this knowledge, he only makes it known with a huff.

“Empire’s out for your head; you need to learn to fight in more ways than your fancy jedi training. That includes hand-to-hand just in case you lose your lightsaber. Again.”

“That was once, Hunter!” you whine, warmth spreading across your cheeks. But he’s right. Loathe as you are to admit it, no amount of force pushing would have gotten you out of that mess on Onderon, and it was a miracle (otherwise known as Echo) that you’d found your lightsaber at all.

It’s an embarrassing memory and, deeper down, a dangerous one that could have ended in more than stray blaster fire. Petulant as you would like to be, Hunter has a point. So you reach up, flapping your hand about until you feel Hunter’s hand wrap around yours, callused and firm, and yank you up to your feet. You stumble as you regain your footing, but as soon as you’ve collected your bearings, you’re shaking your hands out and bouncing on the tips of your toes.

“Fuck it. Let me try again.”

“Do you want me to go slower on the approach?” Hunter asks, this time, a sure note of playful teasing dancing over his tongue. The corners of his lips curl up, imperceptible to most, but you’ve flown long enough with the crew to pick up on his slight giveaways. You narrow your eyes, fixing him with an accusatory frown.

“‘Imps won’t slow down for you y/n,’” you parrot his words with a sour expression, begrudging theatrics complete with an exaggerated eye roll.

Hunter laughs, but he’s already drawing back into a low crouch, arms raised and muscles coiled, ready to strike. You take the brief moment of clarity between your warm up and readying stance to admire him, his hair tied with his bandana, piercing eyes set in a razor focus as his chest rises and falls, even, steady. The sharp clarity is made complete, authentic, with his garb. Having swapped his standard blacks for a sleeveless top, a sheer veil of sweat glimmers brushed over the toned muscle rippling under his skin. It’s an appealing point of motivation, a reward for the small price of being thrown around for the past hour.

“You’re learning,” Hunter smiles, small and crooked, but a smile that breaks past his stolid stoicism nonetheless. “Attagirl.”

Your heart flutters, and you lunge.

Two rapid steps, and you’re meeting Hunter in the middle as he rushes towards you. Right foot, anchor heel, pivot, and the sharp wind of his arm shooting forward nearly knocks the breath from your lungs as it just barely brushes past your cheek.

He’s fast. But you’re faster, you challenge, and you shoot your left arm up, closing your grip with your right hand and trapping his forearm in your hands just beneath the hem of his glove. And when you find secure purchase, confident enough that he can’t counter, you yank with a sharp, vindictive shout. For the first time today, your grip holds.

You feel him roll over your shoulder, guided by your hand, compelled by gravity, and you’ve won. After all the blocks and parries and attacks-turned-scrambling-defenses, you’ve got Hunter exactly where you want him. Hunter may have size, bulk, experience—well, everything other than the Force—that you don’t, but if he’s taught you anything during your time with the batch it’s that timing is king.

You whoop as you feel his back roll off yours, squeezing your eyes shut as you claim your victory into the empty cargo hold.

You forget, however, the unspoken and very important step of letting go.

As soon as the split-second of simple victory flashes through you, you yelp, pulled off your feet and centre of balance flung off to the far reaches of the room. You’re reduced to an ungraceful flail of limbs and panicked disorientation as you fall, bracing yourself for an imminent collision and a sure promise of a bruise the day after. But instead of the forgiving, plasticky foam of the floor, you land with a soft oof on something else, harder than the mat, damp, bony…?

When you open your eyes, you’re propped up on one elbow, your other shoulder dipped close against Hunter’s chest, and your nose just a breath away from his collar, and, Maker help you, you can see his collarbones, sharp and clean through his blacks, rising and falling rhythmically with his heavy, straining breaths. You lift your head just in time to meet Hunter’s eyes, lightly curtained by one single swath of perfectly mussed stray hair, pupils blown wide with pride, wonder, and—

Shit.

“Uh, yay me?” you offer weakly, hoping you can blame the tremble in your voice on bone-deep exhaustion, not the blooming heat roiling in your gut.

“Yeah,” Hunter says, eyes trained on yours, steady and still.

It doesn’t take force sensitivity to feel the tension buzzing high in what little space separates your faces, the boundaries of playful sportsmanship bowing under the weight of testing curiosity, circling, prodding. The breath that passes your lips quivers, of which you’re only aware when you see Hunter’s eyes flick briefly to your lips. He lingers a moment, and you swallow hard, almost audibly, when you catch a flash of his tongue darting over his lower lip.

It might be an adrenaline high—his dilated pupils, the wild thumping of your heart against your ribs. High velocity combat and being thrown flat onto your back would do that.

You hope it isn’t.

The silence is enough to steal the sound from your tongue, just low breathing as you hover above him. It demands to be broken, something to be the first push back into the rhythm of which you have become so accustomed, the comfortable banter and competition devoid of anything more than meaningless flirting. Because for his ruggedly handsome looks, his commandeering presence, an aura that had men and women sending him drinks from across the bar, you had never let yourself seriously entertain the idea of being able to have him.

It’s hard to entertain attraction, much less romance, when you and the batch are high priority on the Empire’s list to shoot on sight, but the possibility has kept you awake at night, fingers shoved between your thighs while he sleeps two doors down. The fantasy of having, breathing him in like air, makes you feel alive, makes you feel the rare and fleeting feeling of safety. You, exiled jedi. Him, one of millions, the dedicated soldier sworn to a cause.

And yet, here you are.

Hunter lifts one hand from the floor, reaching up to brush the hair from your eyes, and you find yourself having to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep from turning your head and nuzzling into his palm, from pushing close and staying, indulging. And while your mind blurs in the frantic flurry of fighting it, he gives in freely, turning his wrist to run his gloved thumb over your jaw. It’s the softest you’ve ever found standard issue blacks to feel, but more importantly, it’s the closest he’s ever been.

“Yay you,” he whispers.

Hunter leans forward, sliding his hand across the side of your neck, his thumb soft at your ear as he curls his fingers into your hair and closes the distance. One moment there’s a vast breadth of space between you; the next, you feel Hunter’s nose brushing over your cheek, his breath ghosting over your skin for that last moment of separation. Then you’re moving with him, meeting his lips with soft motions pleading for more as you slide one hand up into his hair and press your chests flush.

He doesn’t taste quite like your dreams, all smooth, sweet freshness dancing over your tongue. Instead, there is raw exhaustion and strain bitter and heady on his skin as he licks over your lower lip. But no matter; it is real and present and Hunter all the same.

The training room silence is broken when he nudges a knee between your legs, pressing close between the want pooling low in your belly, as you barely manage to muffle a whimper into his mouth, breathy and high as you break away to gasp. Hunter grants you that moment of rest, and he’s pulling you back down against him again, holding you tight.

“I’ll stop if you want,” he mumbles against your lips. “We stop, and we forget this ever happened. But.” He pauses to nip at your lips. “You give me the word, and we take this as far as you want, y/n. Understood?”

You nod, too busy chasing his tongue to feel his gaze fixed on you. And, as always, your blissful ignorance does not escape Hunter’s watchful eye. You whine as you feel his fingers close around your chin and lift, pulling away just enough that you can see his dark eyes steady on yours.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whimper, reduced to little more than pleading submission, doe-eyed and dreamy as he slowly runs his thumb over your lip. “Want you, Hunter. Need you.”

“Attagirl.”

He makes a noise that sounds like quiet laughter, but all you care about is that he’s nuzzling against your skin and holding you close. Hunter kisses you with a trembling restraint that you practically feel vibrating under his touch, the excitement of being able to have, the roiling fear of intimacy, vulnerable and open under your palms.

It’s something you know well. You feel the same.

“We should really wash up,” he murmurs into your mouth.

“‘Fresher’s big enough for two,” you say a bit cheekily.

“You really want it all, huh?” Hunter chuckles, squeezing the back of your neck as he presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Never get anything if you don’t ask,” you smile against his lips.

“Can’t disappoint the lady, then, can I?” he grins, dropping his head back down onto the training mat. You sigh, resting your cheek on his collar for a single breath before you feel him shift beneath you, pulling you into his lap as he sits upright. Hunter offers you a final peck, a promise for more in just a short while.

You silently promise you’ll return to the hold come morning and clean up the mats before Echo can chew you out for any sloppiness, but cleanliness is the least of your concerns as you stumble with Hunter towards the threshold, all soft laughter and kisses strayed off their mark. Whatever concerns about anything other than the bliss of the now are even more obscured as the refresher doors slide shut behind you. You laugh as Hunter twists out of his blacks, which almost has you tripping out of your own, but he’s there to catch you, sturdy arms and warm skin to pull you into the stall and under a startling shock of cold water.

Maybe it’s that brief shock of cold before the showerhead runs warm that offers you a moment of clarity, the space and quiet to realize where you stand and take in the man before you. You’re no stranger to proximity, having spent more than one mission squeezed up against Hunter’s side, but closeness doesn’t begin to describe where you stand now, bared to each other beyond simple undress.

A smattering of scars stretches over Hunter’s skin, an organized chaos of milky pockmarks and slashes so often hidden under his armor. You recognize a few, blaster fire and frightened memories of blood and acrid fear, and the rest you save for a later night when you’ve sated the flutter in your chest as your eyes drift lower.

It would be embarrassing, how your mouth waters when you catch sight of his cock, half-hard and framed by a dark thatch of curls. But any need for shame is dismissed by the sheer gravity of want because he’s thick. You had always imagined him to be big—that isn’t much of a surprise—but your stomach churns delightfully at the thought of him stretching you open, making you feel him for days after.

“You’re staring,” Hunter huffs softly.

“Can you blame me?” you breathe.

Hunter laughs, rich and resonant over the patter of the shower spray, and he reaches that short distance forward, gently taking your hand in his and lifting your palm to his lips. You step backwards, letting him crowd you between the wall as you cup his cheek.

His hands, rarely bared to his brothers, let alone you, are strong and weary with scars of war, and he lets them follow the slope of your arm, tracing down your shoulder, your waist, and coming down to your hips, seeing in full clarity under his fingertips.

“Hold on tight.”

“Hunter, wait—ah!”

You yelp as he slips his forearms under your thighs without warning, hefting you up against the cool metal. In your hazy delirium, it occurs to you that you’re both exhausted from sparring and that him holding you up would only wear him down further. You want to tell him you’re perfectly fine on your feet. But whatever protest you may have had planned dies on your lips with a choked sob when you feel his fingers knead into the soft skin of your thighs and tug.

You arch off the wall, breath catching in your throat when you feel Hunter shift his hips forward and anchor you in place as he grinds his cock over your clit. Any hope of forming coherent words, let alone sound, is completely beyond you, now. Heat coils in your gut, all-consuming, white-hot tension pulled tight and ready to snap with each slow motion he makes.

And—the bastard—he’s good at it, too, leaving you squirming under his grip when he shifts away, cruelly aware of the brief moment just as your pleasure crests. Hunter lets you whine, filling the space with firm, insistent kisses over your collar: enough time for your high to ebb, enough time for him to stoke the frustration, the need tight in your core. Then he’s pressing your hips against the wall again and chasing you forwards, hips flush as he nips over your jaw.

All you find yourself able to do is dig your nails into his shoulders and sob.

“Shit, are you crying?” Hunter gasps, nearly dropping you down into a helpless heap under the warm water.

You shake your head wildly, locking your ankles around the small of his back as you keep him in place. It’s enough to startle him back into stillness, and he readjusts his grip on your thighs, the weight of his cock heavy against your throbbing cunt as you gasp for breath.

“I just—I’m fine,” you laugh, bordering delirious as stray drops of water catch on your tongue. “Just fuck me, Hunter. Make it better,” you breathe, chest heaving as you lick your lips. “Please.”

You know the expression that flashes across his face, the need to tease and prod, making gentle light of a dire situation. But this time, Hunter does not entertain it with his signature deadpan drawl, instead meeting you with a soft, imploring kiss.

“So pretty when you beg,” he whispers.

You open your mouth to offer a snappy retort; even in your desperation, there must be some dignity. Instead, your ears fill with the sound of your stuttering gasp over the water pattering against the refresher walls as, finally, finally, you feel the blunt head of his cock dip into your cunt.

Hunter pushes into you with a maddening slowness, one that reduces you to breathless whimpering broken between what gasps you can take. You dig your heels into his back and meet him with a straining moan because Maker, he’s even bigger than you thought, and it’s everything you’ve ever needed.

“Gotta breathe,” Hunter grunts, sinking deeper into you.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a reminder for you or for him, but you manage to slip in a gasping breath before he’s nudging up against a spot that has tears blurring your vision in dizzy euphoria. And when you come down from that high spark, legs jerking over his arms, he’s still pushing impossibly deep into you.

You watch him in a dazed trance, fixed on how his brows furrow with each quiet, flinching gasp that passes his parted lips as your cunt flutters around him. And how, through it all, his eyes never leave yours, boring into you with a fierce intensity, devotion, demanding your attention and pleading for your touch. It’s more than pure physicality, sex under the crushing uncertainty of a bounty and the shadow of conquest at your heels. He reaches for you, as open as he’s ever been, and you reach back.

“Hunter, I—”

Your words give way to a long, aching moan as you feel the sharp dip of his hips finally press up against your ass, filling you like you’ve always been meant to take him. (And you have, you swear, to him, to everything you know.)

“Gonna start moving, okay?” Hunter says through a shuddering sigh. He trails one hand up your side, thumbing over your chin while you tremble in his arms. “Cyar’ika, tell me I can.”

“Please,” you whimper.

And he delivers. You whine, feeling the slow drag, the toe-curling burn as Hunter eases almost completely out of you then pushes back in, just as slow as the first. He’s measured in his motions, and if you could see past the tears welling in your eyes, you’re sure you would see the razor focus over his features. There’s a tense edge you can barely make out from your slack-jawed disorientation, a restraint behind each careful thrust. He’s savoring it, you think as you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

But when Hunter jerks forward, punching the breath from your lungs as he drives up hard, pulling an obscene noise from your lips with a stuttering apology, you realize it’s not some way to draw this out as long as humanly possible. And as good as it is now, it’s not enough.

“H-Hunter,” you start. “Hunter, you—you don’t have to hold back—!” Your voice rises to a wavering pitch when you feel his thumb trail down your stomach, nestling close above where you part around him as he starts to rub gentle motions into your clit.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps sharply with you when he presses deep again.

“You—you physically threw me across the cargo hold—like an hour ago,” you laugh through hiccupy sighs.

“That was different,” he chokes out a soft chuckle. “I want this to be good. For you.”

Trembling wildly, you muster the strength to lift your hand to his cheek, stroking over his wet skin as the refresher patters down around you. The aching stretch of Hunter’s cock between your thighs ebbs into something sweet, warming your chest when he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“You are good to me,” you whisper, brushing your thumb over his skin. “I want this. I want you.”

You hear him inhale sharp, holding his breath as he meets you with dark eyes, wide and searching. To his gaze, you offer him a soft smile. And it’s enough.

You barely have enough time to loop your arms around his neck and hold as Hunter shifts his grip, firm and high up on your thighs, and starts a brutal pace that has you near screaming into his neck. Your legs jerk helplessly with every relentless thrust, and you find yourself knotting your fingers into his hair, cradling his head for some—any—purchase you can find.

It’s reminders like this that while Hunter doesn’t have the imposing stature or towering height of his brothers, his sheer presence alone is overwhelming, surrounding you and consuming you whole in ways the others simply could never. The power is intoxicating, crushing in its pressure, the submission and release to pleasure it demands of you, and you sob, a whiny, choked sound you barely hear over the frantic, wet slap of Hunter’s skin against yours. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and it’s so, so achingly good.

“Fuck, I’ve always—” Hunter gasps, craning his neck to nuzzle up against your jaw. “I’ve always wanted to do this. To have you like this.” You turn your head, meeting him in a lopsided kiss, all tongue and shared breath. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“More,” you whine, crying out when he pins you against the wall, just so he might reach between your thighs again and thumb insistently over your clit.

Even with the water showering over your skin, you’re distinctly aware of the tears streaking down your cheeks, only fitting for the overwhelming sensation building in your core, cresting in blinding heat with every drag, every ridge of his cock moving inside you.

He fucks into you with soft noises, low enough that they might be drowned out by the sound of water if you weren’t pressed so close. It’s fitting, that the stolid discipline of a sergeant might follow him off the battlefield and into the bedroom, but as characteristic of him as it may be, you can’t bring yourself to particularly care—not when he’s holding you up like a ragdoll and bending you to his pleasure. You cling tighter to him with a muffled sob.

It’s nothing like your nights alone in your bunk, wishing for a warm body and something more than hopeful fantasy. Where your fingers only offered you a shot of momentary bliss, this feels like you’re falling apart in his hands, utterly powerless in only the best of ways as the coil in your gut draws tight.

“‘m close,” you croak as the heat seeps bone-deep, spreading down your spine, blazing in the tips of your fingers, and finding home in the buzzing haze between your eyes. “Hunter, I’m—I’m so close.”

“Let go,” Hunter croons, bearing the rough pad of his thumb harder against your clit, pressing firm with every thrust forward, soothing as he draws back. Your cunt squeezes down around him with the spike in want pooled in your gut, drawing a low moan from his lips, and he meets you with a thrust hard enough that you squeal. “Doin’ so well, cyar’ika.”

Trembling, you bury your nose in the juncture of his neck, but you’re pressed backward instead, a light, unyielding pressure at your neck before the back of your head is guided against the metal wall. Hunter holds you at the throat, nothing but a hovering presence of his warmth over your skin, but enough that he commands your attention, steady gaze, pupils blown as he thrusts up against you, pushing you higher and higher against that mindless gap of pleasure with every intent to pull you apart.

“Look at me, y/n,” he murmurs, low and hoarse. “Look at me when you come.”

He drives into you once more, hard, and the tension mounting in your gut breaks like a dam, flooding over your tongue in sweet, simple pleasure that pulses and shudders through your core. You feel it like your body, your visceral pleasure, is not your own, floating in a mindless state of bliss no longer anchored to anything but your rapidly beating heart and the shivering tremors buzzing at your fingertips. Lips parted in a silent cry, your lashes flutter as you let yourself be swept up in the peak of your pleasure, swept up in him, his gaze trained firm, fond on yours.

And you’re too fucked out to do more than gasp, breathy, stuttering inhales as Hunter settles his hands around your waist and starts a pace impossibly faster than before. Somehow, through the aching tremor in your legs and your limp form pressed up against the wall, you manage to keep your grip steady and keep your arms wrapped snug around Hunter’s shoulders. He pulls your pleasure, agonizingly long with no end in sight, chasing his high as you whimper and plead unintelligibly into his ear.

“C-Close?” you manage, digging your fingertips deeper into the sinew of his back.

Hunter hums, a feeble attempt to keep what little composure he has left, but you feel his movements lose the steady rhythm he had maintained thus far, forgoing fluidity and grace for the raw and primal need to satiate. Lucid sensation beyond you, you simply let him take his fill, lazily running your tongue over his lips and holding him tight as he continues to fuck into you with erratic, stuttering thrusts.

And not a moment later, Hunter bears your hips down hard on his, gasping like he’s taken his first breath of air as his climax thunders through him. You squirm in his hold with a thready groan, reveling in the warm spurts of come filling your cunt and oozing down the curve of your ass onto the refresher floor. For all your exhaustion, you curl your fingers at the base of his neck, pulling him close into a slow, lazy kiss, more languid touches than an actual kiss, but a promise of intimacy all the same.

Hunter tips forward and shifts one arm to wrap snug around the small of your back, propping you both against the wall with the other as the tension drains from his coiled poise. He sags forward with a final, shuddering sigh, pulling out of you and setting you on your wobbly feet, to which you promptly pitch forward against his shoulder.

He laughs and catches you with breathless ease.

“I have no idea how we didn’t slip,” you gasp through heaving inhales, shuddering as you feel warm rivulets of come dripping down the skin of your inner thigh. As the pleasure subsides, you return to your surroundings in a haze, faintly aware of the running showerhead, the steam, and you drop your head forward, knocking your forehead gently against Hunter’s.

“Neither do I,” he laughs and nuzzles close. “Next time, we’ll pick somewhere with less water.”

“Next time?” you prod, knowing full well that neither you nor Hunter were particularly fond of mindless flings.

“Next time,” Hunter grins, tipping his head forward and brushing his lips over your brow.

“If you two are done in there!” Echo’s voice, exasperation weary and gruff, cuts through the patter of water against the metal paneling with a bang, nearly sending you and Hunter scrambling apart if the refresher stall wasn’t already so narrow. “We need showers!”

“What do you mean ‘you two?’” Omega chirps from outside the door. You have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing aloud as you watch the rosy pallor drain from Hunter’s face as you hear her muffled protests as someone (likely Wrecker) coaxes her away.

“Not it—you’re giving her the talk,” you quip, biting back a smile as you peck his cheek.

“Maker help me,” he mutters.

#argh tumblr censored my first post #anyways #i originally wanted to write a sparring scene with wrecker but. i think that wouldn't really give you a fighting chance #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #yaej.writes #filter

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snipergirl21 · 3 years

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hi, I saw your rec list for joe x nicky fics and loved it! thanks a lot for that. do you happen to have some A/B/O recs as well?can be any length and rating (preferably complete? and I dont mind angst as long it has a happy ending). I have read in other fandoms, but not for this one. thank you!!

Hi, Anon. Thank you so much for your ask! I had to really give this one a good think, so it took me a few days to answer it. Full disclosure: you've caught me at a weird point where I've been taking a break from fic reading/writing due to work, so I'm relying on my bookmarks and my own memory, and quite a lot of these are in line with my own personal preferences and/or written by my friends.

I do hope that you will like my choices and maybe explore some other fics written by these authors. I've avoided unfinished/WIP fics (this list is long enough as it is!), except for one, which I will indicate separately (and tell you why it's worth it). Mind the tags on some of these, because they can get super kinky!

1. Wistful is the rain by dana_norram. My favourite omegaverse fic. This one is so beautiful and angsty (but with a happy ending!). Basically it takes the entire lab scene, but adds the drama of an unexpected pregnancy in there. Also has some lovely art by eiseul! I also must recommend the author's other omegaverse fic birth among the ruins, it's just as good.

2. Pretty Woman Walking Down The Street by ejdominus. Also my favourite omegaverse fic (yes, I have two). This one I love because it turns typical alpha/omega dynamics on their head. Imagine alphaNicky picking up omegaJoe for a night of passion, but the night doesn't end the way you might think. The conversations they have are just as passionate as the actual sex, and I can't recommend this one enough.

3. Every You, Every Me by Sholeh675 (Solange956). This one I love, love, love for the story. It's got a great hook; what if infertile omega escort Nicky fell in love with his alpha client Joe while servicing his pregnancy kink? I know I just gave away the plot, but you simple have to read this just for the feels! There's angst, but also a happy ending.

4. Nextdoor A/B/O AU by loflight501. This one is an entire fic series, set in the great Kenzarelli Multiverse. So, while you do have Joe and Nicky in there, there are also other alpha/omega pairings for you to explore, based on Marwan's and Luca's other movie characters! I'm sure you'll find several new favourites just from this one alone.

5. The Breeding and The Royal Omega Contest by Kadma32. Yay, a two-for-one special! I love them because the backstories are so unique. The Breeding is set in a dystopian future, while Royal Omega Contest has a fantasy tinge to it. If you want your omegaverse with a bit of adventure, do give these a read.

6. A/B/O Joe and Nicky Modern AU by In_agony_and_ecstasy. This fic series stands out to me because it's written in first-person, which I normally avoid, but the story here was just so compelling. It's an exploration of their relationship all the way from bonding to baby (spoiler alert) and if you just want something sweet, you should give this a try.

7. Love At First Time by yonge_sonne. This one I would recommend if you want something fresh and kinky. I've never seen omegaverse written this way (with size differences!) but it's so hot and dirty, you definitely should check it out.

8. Marrow Bone by fishie_scribbles. This fic is a little edgy, but the story is so good! Nicky is locked in an unhappy marriage to a rich alpha, and seduces handsome milkman Joe. There is angst but also hot, hot sex. If you want omegaverse with a dark twist, please give this one a read.

9. Milk and Honey by Claire. A loving fic of Joe satisfying Nicky's heat during some downtime in between missions. This one also has some lovely art by eiseul included. And, I have to recommend the author's omegaverse stick figure drawings! They're simple adorable!

10. Repair a heart by Mother_Of_Hedgehogs. This story is so fluffy and sweet. Alpha repairman Joe takes a job in the home of single omega dad Nicky, and immediately begins pining after him. So what will happen when Nicky suddenly goes into heat? Obviously, there is a happy ending here, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it!

11. A Different Kind Of Craving by sparkliblue. This hot fic has a super pregnant Nicky basically jumping on Joe's knot, so definitely give this one a read. What makes this one stand out to me (aside from the obvious) is that this omega Nicky has a vagina, which I've not seen much of in omegaverse. But also super hot!

12. Permanence by elii. This one-shot is about Joe marking Nicky back in their early days, when they think that the mark won't be permanent (but turns out, it is). More than the sex, it's the dialogue I love in this one. It's so mushy and sweet!

13. just go now just go go go by everyshootingstar. Ohmaigawd, this fic. It's basically alpha Nicky going into a rut, and he has to confess to alpha Joe that actually he doesn't want an omega, but instead he craves another alpha. There is no sex here, but there is comfort, and something about this one gives me such feels.

14. Your fill of love by nolimepercipere. Ah, this fic is super cute and super yummy (there are three recipes included at the end). Basically alpha Joe ends up feeding his pregnant omega neighbour Nicky, and they fall in love throughout the course of the story. It's so cute, I recommend it for the tender loving romance.

And finally, a WIP fic I love with all my heart. The author is taking a break currently, but you should definitely follow this one, because it's worth waiting for.

15. Backwards by TheLoveliestCrime. Beta Joe falls in love with omega Nicky, who is a surrogate for Joe's friends Andy and Quynh. That's the surface plot, but I promise you, if you want something different from your usual alpha-omega storylines, please consider this beta-omega romance, which really questions the whole idea of fated pairs. The characters are so well-written and the story so well-developed, it made my heart squeeze multiple times.

These are just a few of the omegaverse JoeNicky fics I love, there are so many more, but I left them out as they are WIPs. I would still recommend that you explore the tag and hopefully pick up some and maybe poke the authors into continuing them. 😈

#the old guard #ask #ficrecs #omegaverse #there are so many other good ones out there #these are just the finished ones i love right now

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that-one-weeb-but-starwars · 3 years

Text

For the dead| Gregor

Note: YAY I FRICKEN LOVE THE DAY OF THE DEAD- AHHH

also....part 2?

Warnings: none,

Reader: male

"I got new hands for you!"

"yeah! Yeah send em back!" Y/n shouted not bothering to turn his head from his task of washing dishes.

Gregor was nudged forward by Cid, he making his way back, still dressed cladly in his trooper armor.

"Uh. Y/n?" He questioned.

Y/n turned his head, "That's me."

There was an awkward silence, "so..."

"Oh right!" Y/n spoke, "just grab a sponge and a bucket and start scrubbing something."

"That's it?" Gregor asked, his voice staying higher as he talked.

Y/n nodded, "this kitchen's filthy, I offered to help Cid start selling meals here, so it needs to be cleaned before I even start."

Gregor nodded, great. He went from slave of the republic to slave of Cid. Y/n returned to scrubbing dishes as Gregor grabbed a bucket and walked away, Y/n, had already scrubbed seemingly everything in his vicinity.

"Anything in the back?" Gregor questioned voice cracking slightly.

"Yep. Haven't touched it yet." Y/n smiled, "just through the doorway."

Gregor walked through the kitchen, turning into the doorway he almost wanted to barf, he found a whole new respect for Y/n and barely knew the guy, the place stunk of rotten food and garbage.

Had it always been this bad?

Pulling up his sleeves and taking off his gloves, not willing to get his own pair of black gloves dirty he started on the cracked walls, he spent the next hour cleaning one wall.

Getting down to the trim in the corner there was a crack in the wall, small his fingernail it held one flower, bright and eye-catching in color, an orange color, and odd color not seen much around the galaxy.

"Wonder how long you've survived here." He commented, to no one in particular cleaning around the flower carefully. Starting the next wall his sponge split in half, splatting him in the chest plate.

"Damn it." He cursed, tossing the broken sponge in the murky water, "probably should change this all out anyways."

Walking back to Y/n was to ask for a replacement sponge he was greeted with a dark room, a soft glow of orange and yellow at the end of the hall.

"Y/n?" Gregor called, bucket in hand he walked towards the light he ended up at an alter, shelves built like a small pyramid that hung a bit higher than waist height on the wall.

Seeing some of the pictures he picked up one, "This...is this Fives?" He questioned remembering the trooper from way back when.

The shelves were decorated with pictures and flowers, small fruits and drinks, everything brought together with lit candles. That's when he realized, the flowers adorning the altar were the same ones that grew out the walls trim.

Others he didn't realize, some other troopers, sure. A drawn photo of 99 the old defective clone who had been put on cleaning duty on Kamino.

"Hey-"

The sudden noise started him, causing him to jolt forward as he turned to face the voice. Bumping into the shelves as it came tumbling down. Gregor trying to catch it but to no avail, the crashing of glass echoing as it hit the floor in the once spotless kitchen. The two winced at the sound.

"Sorry..." he apologized, bucket still one hand looking back prepared to be yelled at.

"Hey. It's okay." Y/n spoke, "I have more frames and candle glasses."

Y/n quickly sorting through the mess for the photos in the hope they weren't ruined by the spill of food or drink.

"The candles-"

"Battery operated." Y/n spoke, "Im not that stupid."

Gregor set the bucket down, quickly helping, "I'm sorry- I really am-" his voice cracking with nervousness as Y/n started putting things on the counter in a hurry.

"It's okay, really." Y/n told him, "I should have moved it anyways"

Gregor rubbed the back of his neck putting wrecked flowers on the counter. Y/n grabbing a broom and cleaning all the food and glass up, Gregor holding the dustpan as they then cleaned up the spills. It was when they threw anything deemed ineligible for reuse did Gregor take a look back at the structure, it obviously had importance, and he felt bad he had ruined it.

"I shouldn't be asking questions. Not after what I did-" Gregor started, "but what's it for?"

"Hm?" Y/n questioned looking to the side, "oh. A cultural thing,"

Y/n had answered so casually, "Oh, " Gregor replied.

Y/n nodded, "To honor ones that passed on, I, unfortunately, didn't know my parents or family but made a family with those clones I saw drop you off, and some others, passed on friends of my own and the boys put some up there, I helped Omega draw 99 I believe was his name since she didn't have a photo."

"So, anyone can do it?" Gregor questioned.

"Mhm, I don't see why not, as long as you are respectful about it I don't see a problem." Y/n answered, "Thinking about doing it?"

"Me? Oh! Oh no!" He spoke, "Im sure I upset the ones passed on after, well that."

Y/n chuckled, "Im sure they're laughing at it wherever they are, I was laughing at it a bit, how jumpy you were."

"That bad?" Gregor chuckled.

"As high as a loth cat," He spoke now picking through the flowers, some disheveled by impact, Gregor helping in picking out the ruined ones.

"You have a place to sleep?" Y/n questioned.

"Huh?" Gregor questioned, "Uh no, no I don't."

"Wanna stay at my place? I have Menudo in my crockpot at home." Y/n told.

"Men- what?" Gregor asked, he had never heard of such a dish, yet he was more shocked that he had just ruined Y/n's important display and now was being asked if he wanted to sleep and eat at Y/n's home.

"Food, soup to be exact" Y/n spoke with a smile.

"I uh," Gregor tried to start, having trouble with the kindness, he was just recently shot at by some of his closest brothers, "Y-yeah I'd like that."

Y/n smiled, "Trust me, I think you'll like it, Ordo Mantell can get chilly from time to time."

Gregor nodded as Y/n tied up the flowers, bagging the broken ones.

"You're taking them?" Gregor asked, Y/n nodding.

"Yeah I never let my flowers go to waste, usually I make potpourri when the petals have been sundried." Y/n told, "It goes right back to them though, I always have a few vases full behind or between pictures for good luck, if I have too much- usually all the time- the neighboring old woman loves to have them and talk about them with her lady friends."

"You're full of surprises." Gregor commented.

Y/n smiled smally, "Well, I suppose I have a few more up my sleeve, now, shall we? We have about a twenty minute walk."

Gregor nodded Y/n had checked once more that everything was set out to dry, especially the pictures and then they were on there way. Gregor following Y/n like a puppy with his mother. The walk to his apartment was quiet, Y/n stopping a few times at small stands, Gregor didn't pay much attention to it, Y/n picking up some fruit- but what he did was pay attention too was the sigh in Y/n's voice when Vendors said they were out of what both the vendor and Y/n called Marigolds.

"Okay, tomorrow?" Y/n questioned.

"Early, but they're rare, especially out here, I know you want them for culture purposes Y/n but I have people paying double credit for them, my families in a tight spot, so If you can get here before those richins can, you can have them." The girl spoke, "I'm sorry chick."

Y/n sighed, "Okay thank you."

The woman nodded as Y/n had been turned away for the fourth time.

"Come on it's just up ahead." Y/n spoke gesturing across the street.

"Okay."

They walked across the street and into the store, "Afternoon,"

"Afternoon," The old woman smiled, "Ah! You brought a man home! A handsome one at that! Good for you!"

Y/n chuckled, Gregor rubbing the back of his neck flushetered.

"Gregor meet Mrs.Baker, Mrs.Baker Gregor." Y/n introduced.

"An honor mam." Gregor spoke.

"Not only is he a looker! He's a gentlemen!" She prasied, "Look at you!"

Y/n smiled, cheeks flustering shortly, it not going unnoticed by Gregor.

"And a man in uniform!"

"Goodnight Mrs.Baker!" Y/n spoke quickly, pulling Gregor through the small store to the back, "I'll have potpourri for you soon!"

"Your a dear you know that!" She called back as Y/n led Gregor to the steps, Y/n allowing gregor to go up first as they made it to the top of the stairs the door opened relieving a hallway.

"All the way up." Y/n spoke, "The attic."

"You lead the way," Gregor practically begged, Y/n nodded squeezing past him.

He smells good, was gregor's only thoughts as Y/n made it past him leading the way, up two more sets of stairs and up to a hatch, where he opened it.

"Watch yourself." Y/n told Gregor.

Gregor climbed the steep stairs following behind Y/n. It was surpignsly spacious, Y/n's little kitchenette behind where he climbed up from, a nice handmade run covered the floor in front of Gregor. Y/n walked over to his desk, that a bit more fancy as it was built into the angled ceiling a window as light source directly above, he set the bags down as a took cat come out from the seat of the chair.

"hey there." Y/n smiled rubbing it's head, "Meet Alley, Alley meet Gregor."

The tooka cat stay still, enjoying Y/n's pats on the head.

"Like an alley way?" Gregor questioned Y/n nodded.

"It's where I found him after all," Y/n commented, "Oh let me get you food you must be hungry."

Gregor finally made it up all the way after semi gazing at the place, closing the hatch below him. Y/n walking over to the kitchenette as he opened the crockpot lid. Gregor now level with the ground looked around, Y/n's "bed" was more of a large, humongous bean bag, easy to push and move as he needed and was convinet. He had a small table besides it with some candles, wax melted and dripping onto the table. Scanning around he seeing the center window, circular and big in shape, with shelves on the walls surrounding it.

"Is this...what I seen earlier?"

Gregor was infauted to say less, the bright colors of the marigolds contrasted to the cool colors of the dark night of Ordo mantel with the city lights crashing against it. Real candles that once stood tall were now wilted away and dripping wax but still lit. Images again at the center of everything accompanied by food and drink. It was beautiful, but sad, how something which could be so painful could be so beautiful.

"It's...amazing." Gregor commented, Y/n watching him from across the room look with infatuation and awe, Gregor turned back towards Y/n who smiled smally.

"I tried my hardest." Y/n smiled, "I do every year."

"What is this?" Gregor questioned, "All this? For someone who will never see it?"

Y/n's smile went to a flat line, but then he thought- looked at Gregor's armor, that was right. He was a clone, the cloest thing to a properal r memorial or burial was there helmet on a pike.

"That's what's the marigolds are for," Y/n told walking forward next to him, "They guide the souls back to us. I unfortantly can't make much of a path, so I gather as many as I can in one place, it's one way my planet use to honor the dead."

"Use to?" Gregor questioned.

"My home plant went dormaint." Y/n told him, "I try and keep as much as I can alive still."

Gregor frowned, looking away, "I- I'm sorry, you allow me into your house and-"

"No, No it's okay." Y/n spoke, "I understand wanting to know."

Y/n lightly grabbed Gregor's chin, with a light push of his finger's Gregor was looking back at Y/n, eye's catching all too long. Y/n pulled his hand away slowly, clearing his throat only the slightest.

"I'll ask you a question then," Y/n spoke, Gregor nodding.

"You're voice, it cracks and it's higher than than other clones." Y/n commented, "Any reason why?"

Gregor shook his head no, "Suppsoe it was always my little quirk." he chuckled, Y/n smiling, they catching each other's gaze again, but for longer, eyes lingering only one anothers, unlike Gregor, Y/n's were dark dark brown, almost black, with a soft highlight of pastel brown, despite there dark color they were warm and welcoming.

"I," Y/n spoke, "Lets eat?"

#captain gregor #gregor tbb #the bad batch gregor #gregor x reader #male reader insert #sw x male reader #tbb x male reader #x male reader #male readers need more fanfic tbh #male reader #Gregor x male reader #gregor x male reader

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gospelofme · 3 years

Text

57 Thoughts I Had While Watching Part 2 of The Bad Batch Season Finale (Spoilers ahead!!)

I do like how Part 2 picks right up where Part 1 left off. I prefer that method since it makes it feel like one connected piece. Like how Rogue One ended where A New Hope kicks off.

Ya know, I wouldn’t mind the thunderstorms.

Okay the explosions are beautifully animated. The blues, the sparks, the orange flames. And I like how they’re realistically placed. So many shows with explosions don’t have them right close to the characters, even if they’re supposed to be all around them.

This episode is kinda darkly lit. Not like Battle of Winterfell in Game of Thrones.

Okay yeah, that clone reporting the destruction…thats some sadness there.

That inner alarm has me thinking “oh shit my flight has changed gates again hasn’t it!!”

Damn, imagine being unconscious and wake up in a flooding compartment with a droid and that one kid who took your place.

Okay how strong is that knife. I kinda expect it to break in half. Wrecker would

probably try to trade with Hunter after that.

The shot of the burning buildings on the water is so beautiful too. The reflections were well done.

About AZ being like “oh hey homie, you survived being blown up but now you’re drowning. And I’m watching while this literal child tries to move metal debris off of you.”

Okay Omega using her bow like that is genius. But please wee baby don’t hit Crosshair by accident. And the way the bolts underwater were animated. 🤌🏻🤌🏻

And Crosshair being all “wtf?!”

Dang Omega is so take charge here.

Okay the sprays of water from the door is so well done. And omg they just pop outta there lmao!!!! About how Omega is caught and they just let Crosshair slide on the floor.

Haha Crosshair being like “Hunter, you fucker did you break something?!”

I really wish it wasn’t so darkly lit, but it does bring a sense of realism. The power is out, so what we’re able to see is what the characters are able to see with flashlights. Plus I’m sure this would look different on my TV than iPad.

The music is so pretty, so emotional. Oh damn poor AZ.

Oh never mind. He’s good.

Crosshair quit being a poop and follow them please.

Echo and that smell lmao.

“Blind allegiance makes you a pawn. A real leader protects his squad.”

Huh. Interesting. But isn’t blind allegiance what the clones had in the Republic? Isn’t that what Clone Force 99 had in the Republic? At least mostly. Some clones didn’t have that obviously, like Cut.

Ooohh Crosshair’s expression when Hunter knocked his shoulder. That seemed like surprise. There is something to that.

Hmmmmmm I’m with Crosshair on that. Going through a glass tunnel with cracks in it hundreds of feet below the surface would be a no from me. Also, what about water pressure? Is that not a thing there? Like wouldn’t you get a massive headache traveling through that? Or maybe not….idk.

Oh fuck Wrecker letting Crosshair know what’s what. I do like that he’s finally expressing how he feels. I’ve always thought there was more of a brotherly relationship between Wrecker and Crosshair than Crosshair had with the others. And Wrecker has a point, Crosshair didn’t even try to come back to them. Of course that really isn’t a fair statement either I guess. Wrecker should remember how he couldn’t control what he did when his chip kicked on.

And Tech jumping in and saying that Crosshair has always been “severe and unyielding” is a good way to let us know a bit more of what’s normal behavior for Crosshair. I like how he’s reminded Wrecker that some things Crosshair can’t help due to just how he is (likely a byproduct of the enhancement experiments).

“Understanding you does not mean I agree with you.” Ugh if only more people had this mindset. Also, the whole “why are you defending me?” sounds like Tech doesn’t usually leap to Crosshair’s defense (even though that’s not what he’s doing here). Which further makes me think that the brotherly relationship that usually exists between team members (like Domino squad eventually, Rex/Echo/Fives/Kix/Jesse/Hardcase/Tup) doesn’t exist here between all the guys. It’s more sporadic. Crosshair seems to get along better with Wrecker (in their own way, teasing and their droid death counts) than he does with Tech.

Also perhaps they should not stop so often…ya know, just in case the tunnel implodes.

Oh nope nope nope. No underwater tubes and sea monsters for Bethany.

AZ is so peppy. Like he sounds so positive when relaying bad news. He sounds like the kinda droid that would be like “good news is you have great cholesterol, bad news is you have cancer. But yay no diabetes!”

Oh yeah I kinda forgot Hunter wasn’t with them they first got to the private lab. And oh damn, Omega is technically older than them. The whole accelerated aging thing is just so unfair.

Well we really couldn’t expect a glass tunnel to fully survive aerial bombardment. Better start swimming fuckers!!

Damn, someone find AZ a charger! I bet Tech has one for his datapad that boy is attached too. He seems like the type to never be without a phone charger. He also seems like the type to not want to share it because no one else in the squad treats their charge cords with respect.

Dad gum Crosshair, I didn’t hear you spouting off any bright ideas. Geez, who peed in your wheaties?!

Hunter takes things too personally?! Weren’t you being all Salty McSourpus over Hunter leaving your ass on Kamino for shooting at him and the others? Were you not taking that too personally? But kudos to Hunter for reminding him the Empire peaced the fuck out and left him to die on Kamino. Although…Crosshair does sound like he’s trying not to care about that. Like it does bother him but he’s acting like he don’t give a fuck.

“The Empire will control the entire Galaxy. And I’m going to be a part of it.” Uhm, sir…you’re currently in a secret lab at the bottom of the ocean with no means of escape right now. How do you plan to be a part of the Empire from down here? Like, are you going to establish the underwater branch of the Empire and assert the Emperor’s control over the sea critters?

Ugh Omega trying so hard to bond with Crosshair. Like the parallel between this scene and the holding cell scene. And her thinking she was wrong about the chip making him behave like a dick. Oh sweet baby, you’re not wrong. He still has that thing. But he has always been a dick per Tech’s words earlier. But she’s trying so hard to show him the similarities between them.

I’ve noticed Crosshair does a lot of pushing people away. Like he’s been doing that with Hunter and Omega this whole season. Speaking harshly to them both (although I think some of the things he says to Hunter, he’s always wanted to say). But I think it’s more that he wants to avoid disappointing them, so he shoves them away to prevent that feeling. Like perhaps he thinks he isn’t worthy to be around them, that they’ll be better off without him around.

Oh fuck, look at you contributing now Mr. I Am Going To Complain About Other People’s Ideas.

Did they have to draw straws to see who got their own pod and who had to team up with who? Like,

Hunter: “Someone has to go with Tech.”

Crosshair, Wrecker: “Not it!”

Echo: “not it, fuck I wasn’t fast enough.”

Oh the wee child is getting her own pod. Okay then.

Of course Hunter and Crosshair get doubled up. I bet they argue the whole time.

Crosshair: “stop breathing all the air!!”

Hunter: “stop standing on my foot!!”

Crosshair: “well it’s not my fault you have Sasquatch feet!”

Oh damn. Well bye Omega. It was nice knowing you. Crosshair probably has your eulogy already written.

Hm, so Tech never shared his datapad charge cord with AZ. Bummer.

Awww poor AZ. He was a good droid. We’ll remember how he OMG OMEGA WHAT THE FUCK?!!???

Again is water pressure not a thing in Star Wars?

Sweetie. He’s metal. You won’t be strong enough to pull him along with you.

Oh fuck Crosshair! Oh damn the look on his face is like “Hunter, get you ugly ass face out of my shot.” Oh damn, boy has got some good eyesight, I want a piece of that.

Bruh, that’s gotta hurt. You just saved the kid they all love and they got you at blaster point. Buuuuuut at the same time you haven’t expressed the most positive attitude towards said kid either. So maybe they have a good reason to think you’d shoot her? Still. Damn. That’s gotta hurt, since if it had been the good ol’ days they’d be like “nice shot buddy!”

Hunter looks more wary than upset honestly. Like he isn’t sure why Crosshair did that, but he’s not sure if Crosshair would want him expressing gratitude either. Hunter doesn’t seem to know how to treat him any more. Crosshair belittles him and speaks harshly to him, but then saves Omega. It’s almost like old Crosshair is still in there, knowing how attached the team is to Omega. Even if he does think she’s not in the safest environment with them.

Oh…omg what is this?! I just noticed, no rain on Kamino….AND SUNSHINE?! Like is that a fucking sunrise??!!?? Oh shit you guys there is symbolism here!!! Like a new start or something impossible has happened. Like there has never been sunshine on Kamino, it’s always stormed. Always. Always and forever it has done that. But after the destruction of Tipoca City, the rains cease and the sunshine comes out. Like….omg guys. It’s pretty!!

Interesting. Omega seems sad that a place she didn’t want to ever return to is gone. But I guess that’s probably the notion that she’s essentially homeless setting in. That the only home she’s had (before Clone Force 99) is gone.

Also, I have this theory that Ghost Fives probably travels with Echo, and he’d likely be like “good! Fuck that place. Killing Tup there and all. Bitches.”

Echo: “stfu Fives, she’s sad okay.”

Honestly I’m not surprised Crosshair refused their offer to come with them. He has his pride and I feel like he doesn’t want to admit aligning with the Empire was a mistake. That he was wrong and Hunter was right. Especially after being all Pro-Empire and talking about how they’re going to be what the Galaxy needs.

“Consider us even.” GIRL he admits it! He was saving YOU!! YOU! Not the dumb droid, YOU!!!!

His face says it all when they pull away. Like he regrets not going with them, but he can’t bring himself to stay with them. He’s really conflicted right now. He has programming in his head telling him one thing and another portion of his mind reminding him that Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, and even Echo care about him. That they’re a team. He even wanted them to join the Empire so they could all get back together. He does want to be with them, but it’s going to take time to get passed the war in his head.

Oh damn, Nala Se and some Commando buddies. Yeah there’s something up with her. She seems to have gained a lot out of this. Making herself more important than Lama Su and likely more important than the other scientists from Kamino. I wonder if this was her plan all along. It’s so hard to tell what Kaminoans are thinking because they don’t express emotions facially or even vocally.

I read a post somewhere about Nala Se doing childish science experiments. Like the baking soda/vinegar volcano. And now I can’t get the image out of my head of her teaching like a high school chemistry class where you get to do those classic science fair experiments. Things exploding, clones accidentally gassing each other at a table. Someone betting someone else 5 credits to drink a solution.

@leias-left-hair-bun @halzore @escapedthesarlacc @eyecandyeoz

#star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #the mandalorian #the bad batch spoiler #the bad batch spoilers #crosshair tbb #commander crosshair #sargent hunter #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb echo #arc trooper echo #tbb wrecker #tbb omega

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drunklander · 4 years

Text

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 504

Let’s make this one quick, because tbh I really dgaf about Alicia and Isiah and I’m almost done with Maas’ new book so if any other’s in the Maaslander squad wanna chat about it, I have feelings.

They’re really dragging this Bonnet thing out, aren’t they. I mean, the books did too, but they could have, ya know, AdApTeD. Le sigh.

Hallo the house is the olde timey version of texting “here” when you get to your buddy’s place.

This episode could really be titled Men Suck.

I mean really. Roger? The Browns? Bonnet? Even fucking Elijah Ford manages to suck and we never even see him!

Jamie doesn’t suck much in this episode. Which is a nice change of pace for him. But he’s been headcanon’ed beyond recognition so whatevs.

Fergus doesn’t suck. Fergus is always the exception who can hang with the ladies because he’s cool enough to be in the good squad.

I just fucking love Fergus ok.

As someone who *hates* shopping, back in the day shopping seems like my exact version of hell.

Also, like, have these fuckers not learned their lessons about not communicating? They don’t need to fucking tell everyone the whole truth, but come the fuck on. They can at least give the Ridge Squad a heads up to not fuck with rando Irishmen who may show up.

I swear, they’re all so dumb it hurts.

Also, Bree, girl. You’re talking to an old Scottish lady. Maybe don’t shit on the Irish in a way that also directly applies to her.

Alicia was Mr. Darcy’s daughter on Ripper Street, right? She looks super familiar.

I’m offended on Fergus’ behalf that they’re wasting so much of his whisky with that leaky stopper, tbh.

Ah, toxic masculinity and patriarchal bullshit. Right up there with rape as my FaVoRiTe way to demonstrate that ye olde times sucked.

It’s like dialed to 11 this episode so obvi I spent the majority of it rolling my eyes.

The Jamie and Claire with the baby stuff was solid though.

And thank fuck they refer to her as Bonnie. Like, Diana is notoriously bad with names, but come the fuck on. Alicia Brown and Alicia Beardsley in like the same few chapters? THERE ARE A LOT OF NAMES IN EXISTENCE, DIANA. IT’S OK TO BRANCH OUT A BIT.

Every time something like this comes up, I remember that there’s another random Randall but like as a first name, I think, in the Gathering Without End. Because of course.

Fergus should really be a fucking diplomat. I mean really.

I am approximately 1000% over sing-alongs with Roger. Can we hang the fucker already so he can’t talk anymore?

Yay freedom! You know what goes well with freedom? An incestuous throuple. You do you, Beardsleys.

“You’re 14.” “Uh, I am clearly in my mid-20s.” “Nope, 14.” “Cool cool. Message received.”

“Congratulations, you work fast milord.” I JUST FUCKING LOVE FERGUS SO MUCH.

Seriously, this show needs more Fergus. Also more Fergus, Bree and Marsali bonding. Like, if we’re gonna have an episode about randos, we clearly could have better used the time to have the Fraser kiddos bonding.

“When in Rome...” STFU, Roger. Cosplaying your way through history like you’re on a fieldtrip isn’t cute. It’s fucking annoying. And you wonder why Jamie doesn’t like you. You are an eminently unlikable person.

Roger would def be the guest the hosts in Westworld want to kill.

The only good part about this side-quest is that there’s so much of Jamie telling Roger he sucks. And really, I’m here for any and all of Roger being told he sucks.

Ok but literalol at how badly Caitriona/Claire knocked over her mug. She like put it down fine and then tipped it over.

Oh hey, I wonder who that rando doctor who gives the weird advice is.

Lucinda is a cinnamon roll.

“Beauchamp, Randall, Fraser, now Rawlings? Ye have another husband I should ken about?” “Well, not yet, but you know your buddy who’s in love with you? Well...”

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall Fraser Randall Fraser Grey Fraser is a very respectable name.

DON’T MAKE FUN OF THE DRINK OF FERGUS’ PEOPLE, BROWN MAN.

Literally the whole time in Brownsville all I could think was fuck, I really don’t want them to do the ABOSAA bit with them next season but I know they’re gonna and I already don’t want to waste time doing fucking recaps.

I’m bored.

Fuck there’s still half an hour left.

“What sort of man would I be if I allowed a lady to sleep out with the militia on a cold, dark night?” Idk, the kind of man whose people kidnap and rape a lady? *preemptive rage intensifies*

I know I should be freaking out that Bree’s freaking out that Bonnet kidnapped Jemmy, but all I could think of is the old podsa ads for SimpliSafe.

The Ridge needs SimpliSafay.

I fucking hate this storyline with the passion of a thousand fiery suns, but I fucking love Marsali.

Omfg I know it’s Brownsville but them all being Browns is fucking like GoT shit. Like, diversify your gene pool, y’all.

Ok, glad there’s finally a Marsali and Bree scene. But I still wish they could hang and like chat about stuff like pals.

That being said, MARSALI IS A FUCKING SAINT AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH.

And of course, more violence against women. Because we can’t go two seconds without reminding the audience that the past is Bad and Dangerous for women.

Also, is Marsali still preggo? Which baby are we on? What time is it? How much longer is left in this season episode?

Cute of Claire to be like hey, Rog, Jamie’s trusting you with me! His favorite thing! Like Jamie’s not actually trusting Claire with his daughter’s dipshit husband.

Oh hey, remember how Brianna can draw Bonnet fairly accurately? Sure would be nice if there was a way to, idk, show those pics to folks on the Ridge. Just spit-balling here, but like, maybe giving folks a heads up would be a good idea. Kind of like how she fuCKING COULD HAVE DRAWN ROGER LAST YEAR BECAUSE TALKING ABOUT HER BOYFRIEND IS A NORMAL THING TO DO WITH FAMILY AND THEN WE WOULDN’T HAVE HAD ROGERGATE AND OMFG THE DUMB. IT HURTS SO MUCH.

Claire just fucking yeeted that baby lol.

For real though, literalol at Jamie like taking his coat off and being all dramatic as he prepares to... play DDR.

omega psi chi phi upsilon tau sigma rho pi omicron xi nu mu lambda kappa iota theta eta zeta epsilon delta gamma beta alpha

Drunk!Claire is back!

I fucking love drunk!Claire. So does Jamie.

The scene where they talk about raising the baby together is adorable. But also, like, Jamie, you’re grandparents now. All the good parts of parenting with none of the shitty parts! And y’all have been through enough shit in your lives that you deserve all the fluffy grandparenting!

“And Marsali and Fergus... Well, I’m sure they will keep the Ridge sufficiently populated if that’s what you’re worried about.” “ Yeah, that lass is with child every time Fergus lays eyes upon her.” WHERE IS THE LIE THO.

Joking aside though, they’d better keep giving Marsali more stuff to do than spit out babies. *aggressively side-eyes a certain author who DiDn’T lIkE wRiTiNg AbOuT kIdS*

Good on them for tweeting out the suicide prevention hotline. Literally the least they can do.

I’m barely really trying to give a shit about Alicia and Isiah, but alas, idgaf.

Literally the only good thing about this whole story line is Isiah being like “step the fuck off, you raging hypocrites” to Roger and Jamie.

#*#outlander starz #outlander 5x04 #drunj!der yells about outlander

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sweetc2020 · 4 years

Text

weird asks that say a lot from @julietgiulia

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Coffee mugs

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Chocolate

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Neither

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? Shy, conscientious, perfectionist

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Glasses

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? All contributors

7. earbuds or headphones? Earbuddies :)

8. movies or tv shows? Movies

9. favourite smell in the summer? Hot soil, flowering plants, fruit and needle trees, post rain, towel after ocean swim, wind through car window driving through forest(ed highway)

10. game you were best at in p.e.? Hockey, soccer, california kickball, high jump and arm hang?

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Usually oatmeal or millet with omegas, fruit and oat milk or avocado bagel with black pepper and nutritional yeast

12. name of your favourite playlist? A nice mix for ness

13. lanyard or key ring? Key ring

14. favourite non-chocolate candy? Licorice, candied fennel or anise seeds

15. favourite book you read as a school assignment? Les miserables, The thief lord, The cellist of Sarajevo - off the top

16. most comfortable position to sit in? Slumpy posture, one leg over or under the other, knee tuck or apple sauce

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? Hiking boots or black sambas

18. ideal weather? Sunny after rain a little windy

19. sleeping position? No pillow usually on my left or on my back or front with one leg bent

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Notebook or notes app

21. obsession from childhood? Fairies and making homes

22. role model? Opa

23. strange habits? Not sure what qualifies as strange

24. favourite crystal? Not really into them but maybe jade or quartz

25. first song you remember hearing? I turned out a punk or something by Joe Strummer

26. favourite activity to do in warm weather? Backpacking

27. favourite activity to do in cold weather? Cuddling, snowy adventuring, dancing

28. five songs to describe you? Hazel (bob dylan), Planted a thought (arthur russell), Junie (solange), Corridor of dreams (the cleaners from venus), Even cowgirls get the blues (emmylou harris)

29. best way to bond with you? Quality time, presence, care, spontaneity / silly curiousity

30. places that you find sacred? Oma and Opa’s yard and greenhouse, forest, Veluwe, ocean

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Floral dress, nice earrings with sambas and sweatshirt or hiking boots, wool socks and over shirt, with shorts and tank top

32. top five favourite vines? Fresh avocado is the only one that comes to mind

33. most used phrase in your phone? Yay sweet and or That’s funny

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? Can’t think of any

35. average time you fall asleep? 2am

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Probably one of those justgirlythings ones here or Fb I have no idea

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. lemonade or tea? Tea

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon tart

40. weirdest thing to ever happen to you at your school? High school - Maybe bear spray yoe evac? authority figure telling me what I was wearing was inappropriate? psych teacher crying in class? Post sec - Tiktok famous boy makes a tiktok of me knitting in psych class? boy crushing steals my textbook just to get me to go to his car so he can return it to me?

41. last person you texted? Daisy 🌼

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? BOTH

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Hoodie

44. favourite scent for soap? Rose, patchouli, rosemary, lavendar, mint, etc.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Naked

47. favourite type of cheese? Cashew cheese or if I could brie

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? White nectarine but there are so many to try!

49. what saying or quote do you live by? “She walked with her entire body as if to gain momentum for an event in which her entire body would participate.” - Anaïs Nin (A spy in the house of love)

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? Probably my kid best friend

51. current stresses? Health issues, unstable income

52. favorite font? Freight rn

53. what is the current state of your hands? Coffee shakes

54. what did you learn from your first job? Hundreds of PLU’s, how to pack groceries, how messy and wasteful people are, that everyone should have to do a customer service job in their lifetime, how really great and awful people are, that I shouldn’t let other people’s stresses make me feel like I should be stressed, that quitting is good sometimes

55. favourite fairy tale? The six swans, Vasalisa the wise, Baba yaga, Bluebeard, Rumpelstiltskin, The red shoes, The velvet ribbon, Goldilocks and the three bears, and many many more

56. favourite tradition? Writing letters and cards, dressing up for halloween, celebrating birthdays

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Eating disorder, depression and heartbreak (although these are things I still need to keep being overcome)

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Writing, taking notes, learning about my body, feeling for what resonates

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Heyo, how bout that!

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? Nausicaä of the valley of the wind (hayao miyazaki)

61. favourite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Recently found on my Tumblr feed from a book waiting on my shelf: “I want to believe, walking those aimless nights, that I was praying. For what I’m still not sure. But I always felt it was just ahead of me. That if I walked far enough, long enough, I would find it–perhaps even hold it up, like a tongue at the end of its word.” - Ocean Vuong (On earth we’re briefly gorgeous)

62. seven characters you relate to? In no particular order, not long thought out: 1) Sabina (A spy in the house of love), 2) Elio (Call me by your name), 3) Patti (Just kids), 4) Sally (The ruby in the smoke), 5) Camille (Un amour de jeunesse), 6) Dani (Midsommar), 7) Orla (Derry Girls)

63. five songs that would play in your club? I follow rivers - the magician remix (lykke li), JA! (bizzey), Gasolina (daddy yankee), Nice for what (drake), This must be the place - naive melody (talking heads) / love my way (psychedelic furs)

64. favourite website from your childhood? Myscene, Club penguin - those free gaming websites

65. any permanent scars? A few on my face from tables and my dog, one on my knee from flip flops on a boat launch, a few burns here and there that probably aren’t permanent

66. favourite flower(s)? Always changing, echinacea and yellow roses rn

67. good luck charms? Change on the ground, nice earrings, well worn shoes, spotting flowers or animals

68. worst flavour of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? Cream of mushroom

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? Popped in my head, maybe not the most fun - the flower bud in the centres of apple tree fruiting spurs make the king fruit (the biggest and best apple from each spur) and if you pick the king blossom then all the surrounding blossoms will be bigger and better

70. left or right handed? Right

71. least favourite pattern? Galaxy?

72. worst subject? Economics

73. favourite weird flavour combo? Miso and apple, blueberries and coconut curry, orange juice and beer (I don't know if its really possible to find a “weird” combo maybe it’s more like “not found in my culture”)

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? 5 if 0 is no pain (I don't think I’ve been above 8.5)

75. when did you lose your first tooth? No idea

76. what’s your favourite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? Gnocchi or boerenkool

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? Flowering plants

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Station coffee

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? School id

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Earth

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? I don't think I have much experience with either

82. pc or console? I cannot either way

83. writing or drawing? This is my kryptonite question

84. podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts if I had to choose

84. barbie or polly pocket? Polly pocket

85. fairy tales or mythology? Mythology (stories are linked more)

86. cookies or cupcakes? Cookies

87. your greatest fear? My health issues keep accumulating and getting worse forever

88. your greatest wish? My health issues resolve

89. who would you put before everyone else? Myself, Suzmom or Marleymoon

90. luckiest mistake? Choosing mini school, don't regret it but maybe not the best decision

91. boxes or bags? Bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Sunlight and rocksalt lamps

93. nicknames? Ness, nessie, nessa, bean, bear, benjamin, kindje, sweet pea

94. favourite season? Late spring or late summer

95. favourite app on your phone? Flo, Spotify, Google maps, notes, weather, find my

96. desktop background? Santa Catalina Island off the coast of Southern California

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? 7+

98. favourite historical era? I love revolutions and renaissances but all of em have hard times and good times

#questions #mine

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bamby0304 · 5 years

Text

With Wolves- Ch.31

Series Masterlist

Bamby’s Masterlist

Summary: Known as The Omen, your reputation puts fear in some of the most dangerous and deadly Alphas. So when you’re caught and sent to the worst maximum security facility unknown to man, no one expected an unclaimed Omega to walk through the gates in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. Word circulates, and before long there’s a price on your head. Who will claim the untamed Omega?

A/N: Because this is the last chapter… I’ve made it extra long for you guys :) thank you @crispychrissy & @sculptorofbeginnings for looking this over for me, and all your help throughout the story xx

Warnings: Explicit language. A/B/O dynamics. Time jump. Smut. Kitchen indecencies. Lactation kink. Breeding kink. Heat. Rut. Thigh Riding. Praise kink. Dirty talk. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Threesome. Fingering. Oral (male receiving). Anal fingering. Unprotected sex. Double penetration. Anal. Squirting. Fluff.

Bamby

The roar of the Impala filled your ears, a welcome hum that lightly shook the cabin’s walls. You paused what you were doing, dropping the knife onto the chopping board before turning to move to the front door. Hurried feet stampeded through the house, beating you as two children rushed outside.

Babbling drew your attention down to your seven month old. The smile on your face grew as you bent down to pick her up into your arms before you followed the others, heading out onto the porch. Coming to a stop, you stood and waited as the sleek black car- Dean’s first love- rolled to a stop.

Both Winchesters filed out, with Castiel not too far behind. The three had been away for just over two weeks, busy on a job states away. It was good to see them together and whole.

Sam and Dean’s gaze landed on you in an instant, their instincts drawing them to you. But first, there were others they had to greet.

“Dad!”

“Yay!”

“Daddy!”

“Uncle Cas!”

Your four older children hurried over to the three men, throwing themselves at them. You continued to watch as your smile grew, taking in the sight of your children and Alphas embracing.

Years had passed since you found your freedom.

Almost exactly nine months after you settled into your cabin, you had your first pup. Kevin, named after the man who brought you to your Alphas, and who died saving your life. You’d never forget the Beta, and thanked him every day when you looked into the eyes of your first son.

When your daughter was born nine months later, it was a blessing. The pregnancy had been a rough one, and at one stage there had been doubt you’d both survive. Complications meant you had to induce your labour six weeks early, but Gabriella fought through it, showing just how tough she was. Green eyes and a full head of luscious hazelnut locks, she had both her dads wrapped around her pinky the second she was born.

The twins came 14 months after, a bounding pair of energy. Bobby and Benny, two rough and tough boys that spent their days wrestling in the mud. Despite having beds, they slept on the floor, which seemed completely normal with how wild they were. There was no doubt in your mind that they would grow up to be Alphas- though you, Sam and Dean would be sure to raise them so they would become respectful and not pigheaded.

The youngest of the group was Rue, born 11 months after the twins. A small girl with untameable brown hair and big hazel eyes, she was a handful, always so determined to go exploring. Luckily, she refused to go anywhere alone. Rue was all about her family, and stuck to her siblings, your Alphas, Uncle Cas, or you no matter what.

Beaming down at the kids, Sam picked up Gabby before he and Dean started towards you. At the back of the group was Cas, struggling to fend off your three sons as they tugged on his signature trench coat, each of them eagerly trying to get his attention.

Hopping up the stairs before his brother, Sam leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You blushed, turning to catch his lips in a sweet kiss.

“Dad,” Gabby whined, wriggling out of her father’s grasp. “Come on! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Chuckling against your lips, Sam pulled away and gave you a small smile before looking to Rue. You handed her over, watching with a fond look in your eyes as he headed inside, following his other daughter.

“What are they up to?” Dean asked as he stepped closer.

You shrugged. “The girls and Kev have been busy in the attic for a few days now. Won’t let me up there to see. But Benny and Bobby assured me there’s nothing dangerous up there.”

“If there was, they’d be helping,” Dean noted with a grin, leaning in to kiss you.

Unlike Sam’s kiss, Dean’s was a little more heated. He stepped forward, moving to rest his hands on your hips so he could pull you in until his chest was flush with yours. A warmth spread over your skin. It wasn’t odd to feel flushed and turned on by Dean, but there was something more to it in that moment.

Before you could explore the feeling, a sigh had the two of you turning.

Cas stood at the bottom of the porch steps with a frustrated look on his face. “Your children seem to be attached to me.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Cas,” Dean chuckled as he moved to your friend’s side and peeled Benny off his back. “Come on, boys. Show me what you’ve been up to while we’ve been gone.”

“Yeah!” all three of your boys cheered as they followed Dean into the house.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” you called out to them.

Cas cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him. “I should go and rest. Crowley made a comment that suggested he might have another job in a couple of days.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You nodded, gesturing over your shoulder. “Your place is still there, clean and ready for you.”

He offered you a smile and short nod. “Thank you.”

As Cas walked off, heading around the cabin to the small granny flat you’d had installed out the back, you watched. It was nice having him around, having him close. While he had no claim on you or your family, he was still part of your pack. After everything you’d been through, it wouldn’t feel right to be away from Cas. He deserved to have somewhere to call home, and people to call pack.

***

You were back in the kitchen, chopping away at some vegetables for dinner. It was hard getting a bunch of borderline Neanderthals to eat anything that hadn’t either come from an animal or was an animal, but you tried your best. Dean didn’t exactly make it any easier, with his love for red meat.

Hands slid around your waist as Dean leaned in to scent you. A hum reverberated through his chest as his hands began to explore.

“Missed you.”

“I’m sure you did,” you grinned turning to look at him over your shoulder. “But I’ve got hungry children to feed, so you can miss me a little longer.”

Groaning, he pressed himself against you, rutting his hardening cock into your ass. “But I’m hungry.” His hands slid up to tug on your top until your bra was exposed.

Breath hitching in your throat, you froze as a tingling of pleasure came over you. Dean plucked and pulled on your nipples, looking over your shoulder to watch as a bead of milk formed. In the corner of your eye, you could see him licking his lips.

“Just a taste, baby,” he whispered as he moved around to wedge himself between you and the counter.

Helpless to his advances, you stood there and watched as he leaned down to suck at your nipple. When the familiar throb started in your breast, you stared at Dean with wonder and lust as he drank greedily.

Before you’d had babies, Dean had teased and hinted at wanting to taste you, but never had you thought he’d go through with it. The second you started lactating, he couldn’t help himself. You’d expected him to be grossed out, you’d expected to hate it yourself… but there was something erotic about it…

“Guys,” Sam walked into the kitchen, finding his brother latched onto your breast. “Kids could walk in at any moment.”

Pulling away from you, Dean wiped the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb as he gave a shrug. “We’ll just tell them the truth… Daddy was hungry.” He grinned wolfishly.

As his eyes turned back to you, taking in the sight of your breasts as they remained bare, you groaned. The lust you felt was only growing as a familiar warmth spread through you.

“Alphas…” You leaned into Dean while turning to give Sam a pleading look.

Sam watched you carefully, reading you. “Fuck. You’re going into heat.” His eyes flickered to Dean as he began to grind against you. “And you’re going into rut.”

“Already there, Sammy,” Dean grunted as he leaned in to nip at your throat. “I’ve been desperate to fuck her since last night. Just better at hiding it than you are.”

“Right,” Sam scoffed, clearly not agreeing.

If Dean had been in rut last night, Sam would have driven him home right away, and they would have come back covered in blood. The effects of the drugs you and Dean were given while locked away meant if you didn’t fuck while in heat or rut, your bloodlust took over. Sam hadn’t gone through what you and his brother had, but he was still affected. Your heats still called out to his Alpha, and nothing got him hotter than seeing you clawing at his brother while Dean fucked you senseless.

Continuing to nip and suck at your neck, Dean gradually began to move lower, heading for your breasts. Your head fell back as a needy moan spilled from your lips. The scent you’d smelled on Dean before was the beginning his rut, and had triggered your heat. You’d been away from your Alphas for far too long… you needed them.

“Sam,” you whimpered, turning your head to look at him.

He gave a short nod. “I’ll get the kids to go harass Cas. Dean, take her to the bedroom.”

Not needing to be told twice, Dean suddenly pulled back and lifted you over his shoulder. You gave a surprised shriek which just prompted him to slap your ass as he moved through the house.

“Kids, come on! I’m taking you to Uncle Cas!” Sam called. “Kev, grab Rue.”

As Dean kept walking through the house, he had to dodge your children as they ran down the hall. Cheering and laughing, they barely glanced at you and Dean as they hurried off to Sam.

Once in your bedroom, Dean unceremoniously tossed you on the bed before pouncing. His lips were on yours in an instant, claiming them in a bruising kiss that had you aching for more while your lungs begged for air. His hands made quick work of your clothes, tearing them away until you were completely bare to him.

“Gonna fuck you full, ‘Mega,” he groaned, moving down to nip at your neck again. “Want you round with pups again.”

You gasped, arching as he slid his thigh between your legs and pressed against your bare pussy. Instinct took over, making you grind against his jeans as his lips continued south to your breasts.

Fingers sliding into his hair, you pushed his head down, hurrying him. “You… you’re insatiable, Dean Winchester.”

“Can you blame him?” Sam asked as he walked into the room, shedding his clothes. You watched as he undressed, moving towards the bed. When his jeans and boxer briefs hit the floor, Sam fisted his cock and began to stroke it. “Where do you want me, ‘Mega?”

Dragging your eyes up from his weeping cock, you batted your eyelashes at him. “Only fair I get a taste, too.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he climbed onto the bed to kneel by your head. “Then open up.”

Doing as you were told, you reached out to grasp Sam’s cock and lead it to your mouth as you opened wide for him. The first brush of him on your tongue had you both groaning with need and desire.

At first you teased, licking at the tip, pressing light kisses on the sensitive skin. Sam watched, lip curling in a snarl as he growled. He wanted more, but he secretly enjoyed your games too much to just push into your mouth. He wanted to savour it all for the next time he was away from you.

Looking up from where he was sucking on your breast, Dean groaned at the sight of you and his brother. Sliding his hand down, he wedged it between your thighs, where you were still grinding against him, and slipped two fingers into your aching pussy.

Gasping at the intrusion, you glanced down at Dean, flashing your eyes at him. Sam took the opportunity to push further into your mouth then. It was only by a few inches though, so as not to startle you.

“Good girl.” Sam stroked your hair as you took him deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat with each slow thrust.

The brothers worked in tandem, one thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth, while the other worked his fingers in your pussy. They were like a single machine, moving at the same time, with the same pace and force. It still amazed you at how two Alphas could be so in sync with each other.

Pulling away from your breast, licking his lips, Dean looked up at his brother. “Who goes where?”

“I want her pussy,” Sam grunted, fisting your hair.

“I’m the one in rut,” Dean snarled.

Not wanting them to argue, knowing they wouldn’t be able to make a decision themselves, you pulled Sam from your mouth. “Want Sam in my pussy, Dean in my ass.” You cupped Dean’s face. “Wanna feel the stretch, baby.” Then you looked up at Sam. “And wanna feel you fuck me full… wanna feel you in my belly.”

“Fuck,” they groaned in unison.

You were suddenly alone on the bed as both brothers moved back. Laying there, on your back, you watched as Dean stripped and Sam moved to grab the lube. Your fingers wandered, sliding between your thighs to replace Dean’s.

“Dirty girl.” Sam grinned, watching as you worked two fingers into your pussy at a lazy pace. “You know you’re gonna need more than that if you’re trying to prepare yourself for me.”

“I’m not.” You bit your lip. “Why would I want to take away the sweet sting from your cock?”

“Fuck me,” he groaned. “Take this.”

Sam didn’t give Dean the chance to react before he was tossing the lube at him. Then he was dropping onto the bed, grabbing your thighs to pull you until you were straddling his hips. His fingers curled around your arm and tugged you down, crashing your lips onto is while Dean lined up behind you.

The first brush of Dean’s fingers on your ass hole had you pulling your lips from Sam’s to whimper lowly. Your forehead rested on Sam’s shoulder as he lined his cock up with your pussy, while Dean began to press a finger into you. It was always so overwhelming, feeling them surround you.

Pressing your hands into the bed on either side of Sam’s head, you clawed at the sheet. Your eyes squeezed shut as an almost animal like groan spilled from your lips. Sam was sliding into you at an agonising pace, while Dean was thrusting the single finger in and out of you.

After a few moments Dean added another finger right as Sam’s cock pressed against your cervix. It was too much, but in the best way possible, and you cried out as your first orgasm shook through you.

Grabbing his cock, Dean gathered your slick as he pulled his fingers from your ass. You moaned in the crook of Sam’s neck, desperate to feel both of them inside you, fucking you, filling you, knotting you.

“Dean!”

Sam chuckled in your ear and Dean snarled, pushing into you.

The sound that tore through your lips spurred the brothers on. Sam- who had stilled once inside you- began to move as Dean started to thrust. It was slow at first, the two of them trying not to hurt you. Weeks had passed since you’d last seen them, since you’d last been intimate, and the first time being together again was always a little painful.

But you loved the stretch and sting. You loved feeling them inside you, making your walls ache as you got accustomed to their size and length all over again. You were made for them, in every way, but feeling them like this reminded you that no one else would do. No one else but your Alphas would ever be enough for you.

Gradually, the brothers began to pick up the pace, fucking into you harder, faster, more eager and desperate. They’d missed you just as you’d missed them, and while the time away from each other might be painful, when you were together again it was all worth it.

“God,” Dean grunted behind you. “So fucking tight, ‘Mega. I’m not gonna last.”

Sam panted below you, watching as his cock disappeared into your pussy. “Me neither. Need to come.”

You nodded, dropping your head to Sam’s chest. “Need to feel it. We can take our time later.”

With your permission, the brothers began to move faster, chasing their release. Dean grabbed your shoulder and pulled you flush against his chest.

With this new angle, Sam hit that spot that made you see stars. His hands grasped your hips guiding you as he bucked up, slamming into your cervix with a force that made you wonder how he hadn’t fucked into your womb yet. Reaching between you, Sam rubbed at your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your end.

Dean’s hand came around to pluck at your breast, causing milk to leak from your nipple. Your head fell back onto Dean’s shoulder, giving him a better view. His lips sealed around his mark on your neck as he sucked at your skin, and watched the white droplets roll on his fingers.

The three of you came together. Sam held you down on his cock so he could bury his cock deep as he filled you with an obscene amount of his seed. Dean grunted in your ear, sinking his teeth into your neck as his knot lodged itself into your ass and his cum filled you. You screamed and spasmed around both brothers, gushing around Sam’s cock as you came once more.

Your skin was vibrating, your mind buzzing as pure, white energy flushed through you. It was warm and cool at the same time, caressing your insides and sparking your nerves. You twitched and moaned, barely aware of the brothers as they carefully shifted so you were all laying on your sides.

Lips pressed kisses to your shoulders, neck, cheek and nose. Fingers stroked you delicately. Sam and Dean were panting, high on their own endings, but coherent enough to call out to you. They whispered your name, trying to bring you back from the ecstasy that was taking claim of your body.

“Omega,” they both murmured against you.

That one word shook the haze away enough so that you could get a better grasp of reality. You still felt the rippling bliss surging through you, but it wasn’t keeping you from your Alphas and their touch anymore.

“I love both of you,” you breathed.

“We love you,” they whispered at the same time, lips remaining on your skin.

Humming and smiling, you leaned back into Dean and pulled Sam closer. They continued to kiss and stroke you, purring lightly. It was perfection… it was heaven.

The End.

Bamby

#alpha!dean fanfiction #alpha!dean fic #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omega!you #alpha!dean x omega!y/n #alpha!sam fanfiction #alpha!sam fic #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam x omega!you #alpha!sam x omega!y/n #abo #a/b/o #with wolves

389 notes · View notes

mittensmorgul · 5 years

Note

I will always maintain that Dabb's finale's titles are incredibly meta and foreshadow the coming events. Given that this finale was titled Moriah (and I'm going back and forth on whether we got Jehovahjireh in the form of Sam), I can't help but speculate that S15 is going to be the transition from Old Testament to New Testament. There's a good reason why we never got a Christ figure before S13.

Hello from my inbox circa three weeks ago... >.>

(sorry I’m so far behind, but I’m still randomly spelunking through older messages and trying to reply as I can)

I had to google what Jehovahjireh meant, and I... don’t think that’s what we got in the literal sense of the term, but maybe something along these lines, from this article: https://www.gotquestions.org/Jehovah-Jireh.html:

The account of Abraham on Mt. Moriah thus becomes more than a dramatic illustration of faith and obedience. It is a presentation of the Lord’s eternal grace, continual provision, and all-encompassing wisdom. Jehovah-Jireh is not “The LORD Did Provide,” but “The LORD Will Provide.” In other words, the name does not simply memorialize a past event; it anticipates a future action.

With the highly ironic twist that God himself literally engineered this entire encounter in the first place. Which, again, is yet another nod to the spiral narrative, and this story that Chuck’s been telling and retelling literally forever. All of this has happened before, but Sam, Dean, and Cas have just leveled up and seen that bigger picture. And yay, I get to haul out one of the three gifs I’ve ever made, from 8.12:

Well, TFW just finally found a parking spot and stood their ground. Chuck did provide, and if they demonstrate faith in his instructions, he will provide all of this again-- all of this suffering, this horrific “I did what I had to do,” “I didn’t have a choice” moment where they must sacrifice everything to save the world again. And again and again and again...

Team Free Will, who have sacrificed so much over and over again in the name of preserving humanity and free will for everyone else, have never truly had it for themselves. Thanks, Chuck, for keeping them trapped in this narrative loop for the sake of drama, for the sake of watching his favorite characters reenact his favorite plot and never letting them enjoy any of the rewards for a job well done, you know?

That said, to me, Dabb’s season finale titles are more about pointing out this spiral narrative than they are about foreshadowing. Because seriously, what even is the point of foreshadowing within a cyclical narrative? Dabb didn’t NEED to foreshadow anything on the grand scale, because it’s all happened before, and it will all happen again... Let me explain.

Alpha and Omega. Dabb’s first season finale, in a season where he quietly took over the showrunner reins from Jeremy Carver somewhere shortly after midseason (and an argument can be made that he was already aware this shift was imminent when he wrote 11.10, even if it wasn’t official yet, seeing as how he began steering the narrative around this point...). This was arguably the culmination of one round of this Grand Narrative, hitting all the major plot points Chuck has included in every round-- sacrifice (Dean volunteering to “be the bomb,”), everyone working toward the common goal and all of them willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of saving the universe again.

Alpha and Omega is “the beginning and the ending.” Or “the first and the last.” It’s referenced in the Book of Revelation. And 11.23 is an ending in many ways... the ending of that particular chapter in the mytharc of Supernatural, the ending of Chuck and Amara’s separation, the technical ending of the Carver Era, the end of s11 itself. But it’s also full of beginnings... the beginning of Dabb Era, the beginning of the next chapter in the mytharc of Supernatural (with the introduction of the BMoL and the unfridging of Mary Winchester that had begun the original era of Supernatural in 1.01, so in a sense Mary’s reappearance is both a Beginning AND an Ending... it’s spirals all the way down, my dudes). And it was narratively the beginning of TFW’s era serving as the “caretakers” of the Universe in Chuck’s supposed absence... that worked out great, right?

But this was always the story Dabb wanted to tell. His intent was always to point at the curtain, to draw our attention away from the Big Scary Glowing Head with all the smoke and mirrors and begin nudging us all to recognize the curtain over in the corner of the room where you could see some dude’s feet down at the bottom. He’s spent his entire tenure as showrunner effectively teaching us all how this entire story functions. More on this in a second, but first let’s look at 12.23:

All Along The Watchtower. There has been so much meta written about just this title alone, going back to even before the episode aired:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/all%20along%20the%20watchtower/chrono

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/*all%20along%20the%20watchtower%20plays%20in%20the%20distance*/chrono

I’ve begun refiling all these posts under this tag:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/it%27s-spirals-all-the-way-down/chrono

but I got derailed somewhere around 11.05, so there’s a gap... I need to get back to that retagging project someday >.>

I don’t know if you’ve ever watched Battlestar Galactica, but (spoiler alert), All Along The Watchtower was literally the magical key that unlocked the entire narrative, on pretty much every level-- in story, the notes of the song itself functioned as the “magic spell” that unlocked the Heroine’s Journey for the character of Kara Thrace, the narrative structure of the entire series which (surprise!) bore out to be a Grand Loop of a Spiral where the ending of the old story was simultaneously the same beginning of the same story, and the overarching structure of the divinity of that entire universe:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/184126770915/justanotheridijiton

And I think that’s why Dabb chose this as his title here. He couldn’t possibly have chosen a more on-the-nose title, honestly... for an episode full of endings and beginnings, a window (or portal) onto a “failed world,” the birth of possibly either hope or destruction (or both simultaneously) with Jack, Castiel’s first True Death (wingprints and all!), and yet another revolution of the Same Story, the same song sung over again. Which brings us to

Let The Good Times Roll: Heck my dudes, for whom did any good times actually roll in this episode? For Michael? Who defeated “his Lucifer” over in that “failed universe,” finally getting another chance to “do it right?” Wherein his idea of “doing it right” was simply to change a few elements like customizing Ikea cabinets with different drawer pulls and maybe the oak finish instead of the cherry? His goal was always still the same, you know? Even if his methods were different simply due to circumstance (no angel army in this world, so he picked monsters instead). For Dean? Who thought at the beginning of the episode that they might finally be getting ahead of the game and maybe were reaching a point where they didn’t have to shoulder the burdens of the world (talking about “toes in the sand” again at the beginning of the episode before Michael and Lucifer broke back into this world), and then by the end had finally lost everything that Cas had been fighting against since he first rebelled in 4.22, giving in and saying Yes to Michael, and then losing his free will entirely, completely overridden by Michael in a way that even Dean revoking his consent couldn’t evict him again? For Jack, who had his grace torn out by his father and was sent on a crash course in humanity, loss, sacrifice, love, and death? I mean, this was just a rolling around of the narrative again, forcing everyone to face this Worst Case Scenario of the apocalypse finally jumping back on the tracks again, even with Lucifer dead and Michael having killed him. Because Michael never wanted anything different than Lucifer did-- the end of the world, by whatever means necessary. There is no paradise on Earth, merely destruction and rebirth in an endless cycle that Michael wanted to bring to an end.

It’s spirals all the way down, and the archangels just... don’t even have the ability to recognize that, let alone consider defying it.

Hello, 7.21: DEAN: Oh, I don't know, man. What can I say? You've been chosen. And it sucks. Believe me. There's no use asking "why me?" 'Cause the angels – they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just... breaks them apart.

Because in Dabb era, it’s kinda clear that that should’ve been the angels’ goal all along.

So instead of an ending (despite several things ending-- like Lucifer and Dean’s free will), we also have a fresh beginning. Welcome to Apocalypse Again.

Which finally brings us to

Moriah. More beginnings, more endings, but more importantly, the first actual transcendence of the narrative spiral by the characters themselves. TFW finally managed to throw back the curtain and see the weaselly lil dude standing behind it. And this has always, ALWAYS been Dabb’s endgame gambit. Every turn of the narrative up to this point has been leading up to this moment of syzygy where every character, every plot element, finally aligned for them to look through all the narrative loops and finally see the truth at the center of the story.

Here’s where I start detouring for the sake of clarity. Bear with me while this becomes murky as pea soup before finally coming back together. This post I wrote five days after 12.23 aired basically called this out:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/160988290690/12-while-i-do-not-ask-this-to-be-negative-at

And used this graphic in that post to explain shifting the viewer’s perspective on the narrative structure in order to understand the bigger picture of what the show is telling us with the narrative:

And this is what I mean by narrative syzygy. TFW-- inside the story-- have finally found themselves standing at the correct angle where all the plot points have lined up, and they can now see the universe looking directly back at them, quite literally. They finally, in story, have the full picture of where they stand versus God and the Universe.

And it’s unsettling!

But back to the point I abandoned before this detour. If you’re thinking of Moriah only in relation to the Abraham/Isaac story, you are missing fully half the relevant reference. You only need to look back to the very beginning of Jack’s life, and 13.02, to recall the other specific biblical reference relevant to Moriah: Solomon’s temple. (yes, I recognize that David built an altar there, and other temples have been built there, but Solomon has specifically been connected to Jack from the start, so we’re gonna go with his construction of the temple... but it is relevant to bear in mind the cycle of sacrifice, death, destruction, rebirth, and rebuilding all associated with Mt. Moriah, too).

The Big Reveal in 14.20-- everything from Jack’s “stop lying” and the ensuing chaos to Chuck’s hand being forced when his guys threw down the gun and refused to act out this specific sacrifice in a graveyard-- literally a place filled with monuments to the dead, including a statue/fountain of Mary and a rusted fence surrounding a tomb that looks suspiciously temple-like:

Birth, Death, Sacrifice, Faith, all in a never ending cycle. The characters have been trapped in this loop since the beginning of time, or at least since 1.01, unwittingly living out the same story over and over again, but each time leveling up in some way, and gaining perspective on another element of the narrative on each go-around. Each time through the loop, they may have faced the same Big Picture-- the current iteration of the Big Bad, the family dynamics, the struggle for personal growth, and their understanding of the universe in general and their places in it specifically. This is the Grand Story of Supernatural, on every level.

But now, in this final spiral of the story, the circle has finally been broken, and our guys are now aware that that gif I used above from 8.12 is literally the story of their entire lives, and they have confronted the source of that fact and finally broken free from it.

Cue the zombies. Because heck Chuck is mad they broke his story, and it looks like he doesn’t accept defeat graciously...

TFW only has one more Big Bad to defeat-- the story itself.

#dabb vs cars #spn 11.23 #spn 12.23 #spn 13.23 #spn 14.20 #it's spirals all the way down #*all along the watchtower plays in the distance*#Anonymous

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thethespacecoyote · 5 years

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Yay I finished the fic about Nephrit’s birth!! It’s just something super basic that I wanted to get out but I hope you guys like it!

Kylo’s grown a little better about keeping himself calm in the years since he’s become a father, but it’s hard to find tranquility when he sits at Hux’s bedside, watching him struggle to birth their child.

At least the medic and his assisting droids know their duties to the emperor. Kylo hates putting his mate’s wellbeing into the hands of others, but he understands little about childbirth aside from what he’s experienced with their two sets of twins. For that, they’d set Hux up in his nest, allowing the emperor to give into his instincts and allow labor to progress naturally. Kylo had enjoyed it—when Hux hadn’t been cursing and crushing his hand—appreciating the intimacy of the moment as he helped his mate give life to their children. Of course there had been a medic on call, in case of an emergency, but apart from that no one had bothered the pair until they held their pups in their arms.

This time, however, it’s different. They’d tried the nest through the first, mild contractions, but once they grew in intensity and frequency Kylo knew something was amiss. He could sense the disquiet building in his mate, could feel the uptick in Hux’s heartbeat. He’d pressed his hand over Hux’s exposed chest, inquiring with a soft chuff against his mate’s ear, only for him to shake his head and let out a tight sob.

“S-Something’s wrong—“ Hux had said with eyes wide, his unsettled tone sending a bolt of fear into Kylo’s chest. The alpha had wasted no time summoning the medic, who promptly whisked the emperor off to receive proper assistance with Kylo storming on after them.

So now Hux lies in his private medical ward, forced from the comfort of his nest and into a thin, sterile robe. Its hem rucks up a little over his belly, allowing room for little electrodes to pepper his skin. The little sensors hook up to one the many machines surrounding Hux’s bed, the heartbeat of their child carefully monitored on a glowing blue display. Kylo tries to let the tinny beeps reassure him, but as time goes on it only prickles his anxiety.

Failure to progress, the medic had informed him after they’d first examined Hux. Unusually prolonged labor, to Kylo’s understanding. It’s not necessarily dangerous, but poses additional risks if it lasts too long. They’ve been giving Hux additional pain medication and plenty of water, encouraging Kylo to comfort him through the process, to rub his back or help change his position if the emperor needs it.

Hux looks scared, despite his best efforts to the contrary. He tries to keep his chin up and expression focused through pain and pressure surged through his loins, but whenever the medic isn’t looking his lip trembles, eyes watering under the bright white lights.

Kylo holds Hux’s hand now, carefully stroking his knuckles as he tries to keep his mate comforted, even as he deals with his own worries. He refuses to show weakness now while his mate lies so vulnerable—Hux needs his strength and confidence, needs something to cling to so he can believe everything will be alright.

Kylo carefully pets Hux’s hair with his other hand, stroking the sweaty red locks off his forehead. The omega leans into his touch, grateful for a little affection through the pain and stress as he tries to keep his breathing even. It’s tempting to try to use the Force to ease Hux’s pain, but Kylo worries about interfering too much with the delicate process of birth. Instead he uses it to focus on the little pulse of life inside his mate, the presence he’s nourished over the months.

“Pfaask.” Hux grits his teeth, shifting as another contraction clenches through him. “Why won’t they come out already?”

“They will.” Kylo rests his palm against Hux’s forehead, thumb rubbing softly against his skin. “You just need to be patient.”

“Patient?” The omega hisses, glaring at Kylo. “Y-You—you talk about being patient, with a damned child trying to push its way through your pelvis—“

Hux starts as one of the machines suddenly begins to sound off rapidly, the labored tinge in his cheeks draining out in fear. Kylo inhales sharply, eyes focused on the display monitoring their pup’s heartbeat, watching the little blue line start to shift in erratic peaks.

His chest clenches in fear, his grasp on the little spark of life inside his mate wavering.

“What’s going on?” Hux’s voice strains, his own heart monitor starting to accelerate. He tries to push himself up off the bed, his arms trembling with the effort. Kylo places his hand on his omega’s shoulder, trying to gentle him back down despite his own racing thoughts.

The medic and the assisting droid bustle around him, checking all the monitors and feeling Hux’s belly, between his legs. The expression on her face grows serious as she lifts her head to address the pair.

“My emperor, the child needs to come now, if we’re to avoid further complications.”

Hux stares at her as if he doesn’t fully understand, his eyebrows arching in concern.

“But—“ he gasps, floundering “—it’s not—I’m not ready!”

“Waiting may pose further risk to the child,” the medic explains, “I would recommend surgery to best ensure their welfare.”

“Surgery?” Hux shakes his head, grip white-knuckled on the railing of his bed. “No. Absolutely not, I—“

“Hux,” Kylo interrupts, squeezing his hand. He can sense his mate’s distress, through the cloud of his own concern for their child. “Don’t be stubborn. Please.”

The emperor pulls his eyes from the medic, fear glistening in their depths. Hux swallows roughly, his thumb anxiously stroking against Kylo’s hand.

“Alright. I understand. I’m just…” Hux’s shoulders shudder with the pain of another contraction, his teeth digging into his lower lip. When it passes, he nods curtly towards the medic, who quickly instructs the droid to prep Hux for surgery.

A medical curtain is quickly drawn over his belly, blocking the process from his sight. Kylo keeps his eyes fixed on his mate for now, holding Hux’s hand with both of his. The omega’s eyes daze slightly with the additional anesthesia, though his expression still roils with worry.

“To think,” Hux swallows, jaw tensed, “I birthed two sets of your twins with no issue, but get unlucky with one—“

“Shh. It’s going to be alright.” Kylo leans in, brushing his lips over his omega’s brow. “They’re strong. Like me, like you.”

The smell of blood and disinfectant reaches his nose. Kylo tries not to imagine the medic sawing through Hux’s abdomen, trying to focus instead on how close they are to meeting their pup.

But his heart twists as a distressed sob rips from Hux’s lips, tears bubbling up in his eyes.

“They’ve gone so still—Kylo, please—“ He whimpers, begging his mate though Kylo can do little more than wait and hold his hand tightly, bringing Hux’s knuckles to his lips.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeats, losing himself to mantra. He’s unsure what else to do but cling to hope that everything will turn out for the best, until a tight breath draws his attention above the curtain shielding his mate’s belly. His grip on Hux’s hand falters as he lifts his head, letting it slip between his fingers and fall limply to his lap.

“Kylo,” Hux croaks, looking up at him frantically from beneath his unkempt hair, “what’s going on?”

The medic’s grim expression remains as she lifts something grey and bloodied out of Hux’s middle. There’s no movement, no cry coming from the little body cradled in her hands. Kylo’s heart stops, lips parted in disbelief.

No. No no no. It can’t be.

He and Hux have spent months waiting to meet their pup. Their children have grown so eager to welcome this most recent addition to their family, already suggesting names and choosing which of their old toys to give to the baby. There’s already a little bed reserved for them in the nursery, filled with blankets he’s caught Hux lovingly caressing when he thought no one was watching.

It can’t all end like this, not when they’re so close.

He watches numbly as the medic tries to clear the pup’s mouth, siphon oxygen into their lungs as she massages their chest. Kylo can hear her clinical intonations, swimming with the heartbreaking cries of his mate as Hux tries to reach him through the sudden muffling in his ears. Every second that passes without the reassuring cry of his child sinks the alpha deeper into anguish, and as the medic ceases her efforts, it threatens to swallow him completely.

But Kylo—even as rage and despair surges to the forefront of his mind—doesn’t lay hands on the medic, doesn’t crush her throat or toss her into the wall as a means to cope with his loss. He doesn’t even strike out against the unfeeling droid. Instead he rises from Hux’s side and stretches out a hand, eyes not wavering from the tiny, bloody body in the medic’s palms.

“Give them to me.”

The medic hesitates for only a split-second before she hands the newborn over to Kylo. He cups his hands gently around them, pulling away the soiled towel wrapped around the little form.

A girl. He and Hux have another little girl.

She’s still warm from the omega’s body, blood and fluid stuck to her skin. She has Hux’s petite nose, and a dark swath of hair like Kylo’s sticks atop her head.

She’s not premature. She has all her fingers and toes and perfect, chubby cheeks. She’s healthy, meant to grow and thrive.

She just needs his help.

Kylo leans in to rest his forehead against hers, disregarding the blood, and closes his eyes.

At first there’s nothing, but the alpha probes deeper, reaching out with the Force. There he finds that little spark of light he’d sensed inside of his mate, the life he’d encouraged over the past nine months. It’s fading, but still there, still within his grasp.

Kylo coaxes the little sensation, gifting her his strength, his love, all the life that waits for her if she just breathes, just opens her eyes. He needs so badly to meet her. Hux needs to meet her.

Please, little one. Come back to us.

A small, weak little mewl pulls Kylo out of his mind, and he inhales so deeply his chest hurts. His eyes snap open and he leans away, watching as his daughter starts to twitch in his hand, her little fists clenching as she tries to start breathing.

“There…that’s it…there you are…” Kylo’s voice breaks, emotion tightening his throat.

Her fragile chest trembles as he softly rubs it with his thumb, encouraging her little wails until they grow stronger. By the time her breathing starts to even she manages to open her eyes, fixing Kylo with a vibrant, jade green.

Hux is crying openly beside him, tears trailing down his cheeks as he watches Kylo. The alpha turns, cradling the pup in his arms as he crouches down to Hux’s level. By the time he works up the strength to speak he too has started to cry, unable to hold back his relief as he holds the little, squirming bundle to his mate.

“Do you want to meet your daughter?”

#spacetext #fanfic #long post #mpreg #omegaverse #birth #kylux #huxlings #not super graphic but? you know #a little bit #sw

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alpha-bnha-boys · 7 years

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Hello~ I was wondering if I could request headcanons/scenario (whichever your more comfortable with) of Alpha!Izuku pining after an Omega that's quiet and doesn't seem to stand out much but she's super nice and sweet to him?

Why of course you can my dearest! ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡ I am always more than happy to write about our precious little love muffin, Midoriya! I do want to say, I might have gotten a little carried away with the fluff on this one. So I apologize in advance if its more feels-oriented than you had bargained for! If so, please shoot me another request and I’ll write one with some more spice for you! I hope that maybe you’ll still enjoy this piece though! (*^‿^*)

99% SFW! Alpha Midoriya Izuku x (Shy)(Female)(Omega) S/O Scenario! Yay!

* Assuming all characters are 18+ and consenting!

~ (even though no sexy-times are had) ~

* Contains highly concentrated amounts of fluff, feels, and LOVE!

* Includes the following sexual themes: … I mean, sex is mentioned like… twice, maybe? So… I guess- none? Maybe “mild mentions of vanilla love making?” ┐(‘～` )┌

~ (you get the idea) ~

Enjoy!

Looking at Midoriya, your first thought probably wouldn’t be “alpha.”

He’s a very strong and determined young man, but he has such a gentle temperament about him, something very uncommon in alphas.

He has the well-being of everyone in mind, and does everything he can to show those around him their full and limitless potential.

But there is this person he just can’t seem to reach.

A girl.

She refuses to give herself any merit for her accomplishments, and always politely avoids talking about herself.

He wants to show her how phenomenal she is. Not just as a student or a hero, but as a person.

She ignites within him a depth of emotion, the likes of which, he has never experienced before (and knows he never will again).

But somehow, she’s always just out of his grasp.

You… You are that girl.

At first it’s just the draw of a kindred spirit that lures him in, the unwavering connection he feels to you.

You are like he was. Shy, timid, and unbearably disappointed in yourself for no real reason at all. A state of self-consciousness brought about merely because you are you, causing you to think of yourself as inferior to everyone else.

Despite these feelings, you always wear such a bright smile. The kind of smile that makes other people want to smile right along with you, even if they don’t know why.

A richness of compassion radiates from your eyes, full of undying hope for others, but lacking in self-worth.

You are a friend to all, expect yourself.

Not say that you are social butterfly by any means. You prefer to watch from the sidelines, offering a bounty of encouragement to everyone you meet.

All those who know you can agree, your kindness truly knows no bounds. It only grows and grows with every passing with day.

Much like Midoriya’s longing for you.

You haven’t known one another that long, but he is already completely and utterly spellbound.

He he has never felt this way before, about a girl, or anyone for that matter. No one has ever made him feel so… alpha.

Like clock-work, his biological alpha-settings kick in within a few days of him realizing his affections for you.

All of the sudden, he can discern your scent from a mile away.

He can run faster if he thinks you’re in danger.

He can fight harder if he knows you’re watching.

And most notably, he can imagine your smiling face as he kisses you.

Your hum of contentment when he holds you.

Your contagious laughter as he tickles you.

Your heavy breaths as he teases you.

Your feverish mewls as he makes love to you.

Your voice calling out to him, “Alpha.”

You were the one. The one he wanted. The one he needed. The one he would make his omega.

Until that day comes, his eyes are permanently fixed on your every move.

Though he will hurriedly turn away should you try to catch his glance.

He doesn’t want you to think he’s ogling you. Though there is no denying, you really are irresistible in that uniform, his watchful gaze primarily hovers over you for protection.

Thankfully, the two of you are already close friends, so he has a good excuse to be with, or near you, about 90% of the time.

The remaining 10% of that time he sleeps, bathes, and tries to satiate his burning sexual desires to ensure he isn’t acting like a beast when he’s around you.

Some nights, if he can’t sleep or is worried about you, he’ll sneak over to your house and guard you under your bedroom window.

It’s not as creepy as it sounds, okay?

He has the purest of intentions.

He isn’t “peeping in on you” in hopes of “seeing some action.”

He’s leaning silently against the outer walls of your home, trying to quiet the throbbing of his heart within his chest, the heart that so terribly longs to hold you in his arms. To simply be there. Should you want him, or need him, or be in danger.

He promises to always be there for you.

In ways that stretch far beyond the boundaries of friendship.

He just needs to figure out the right time to tell you that.

To tell you that he wants to be more than friends.

That he wants to be something serious.

That he wants to be your alpha.

That he loves you… and that no one else in the world can be his omega.

Except for you.

I hope you liked it Anon! My apologies, again, if it was too fluffy, or wasn’t quite what you had in mind! Even so, I hope that maybe it was what you had in mind, and that it made you smile! (* ^ ω ^)

Lots of love my darling angels!

xoxo,

(Not-So) Smutsy ( ˙꒳˙ )

1K notes · View notes

bitchinparty · 6 years

Text

Panel Voting is open!

Since we only got 7 more panel submissions than there are slots for panels, we decided not to do two rounds of voting as planned. Instead, voting will be open from now until February 18th. The voting form contains all the panels and descriptions along with mod names--please let me know ASAP if I missed any of the co-mod arrangements flying around! Voting closes at 11:59pm on Sunday, February 18th. VOTE HERE! (Voting instructions are in the form. You must be registered for the con for your vote to count. Side effects may include increased heart rate, shortness of breath, uncontrollable gigglefits, and inability to can. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball.) Panel Descriptions SINGLE FANDOM Women of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (mod: Minim Calibre) Natasha Romanoff, Peggy & Sharon Carter, Jessica Jones, Shuri, Gamora, Valkyrie, Maria Hill, and many, many more! Let's talk about the wonderful women of the MCU and why we love them. Avengers Reassemble (mods: Lucifuge5, mizface) MCU's been kicking it for 10 years and counting. Where is it going and where would we want it to go next? Captain America: The Star Spangled Man With a Plan* (*for certain values of plan) (mods: Minim Calibre, Gwyneth) From a kid from Brooklyn to a bearded outlaw, come talk about Captain America and Cap fandom as it stands on the eve of Infinity War. Pacific Rim: Uprising - Next Gen Heroes Yay? (mod: Raine Wynd) Pacific Rim Uprising gave us another apocalypse and a set of new heroes to like. Let's talk - and maybe discuss where Raleigh and Herc were doing while this was going on. :-) The Real Bad Place Is The Friends We Made All Along (mods: SDWolfpup, Brynn, Minim Calibre) The Good Place started with a straight-forward premise and became one of the most complicated, delightful, and philosophy-loving shows on TV. Let's talk about why we love it (so many reasons!), how it manages to keep turning its own premise with such skill, and what we hope for next season. The State of Bandom: 2018 (mods: aethel, Lucifuge5) Bandom in 2018 is a different beast from Bandom in 2007. We'll chat about how the fandom has changed (and how it hasn't) and what the musicians are up to now. Come reminisce about your time in Bandom! A short time ago, in a fandom not so far away... (mods: bessyboo, exmanhater) Let’s talk STAR WARS! Originals, Prequels, Sequels, Rogue One, Clone Wars, Rebels, EU—which parts are you really feeling, and why? Which parts that you’re not already into should you check out? What did you think of The Last Jedi? Everything from the galaxy far, far away is on the table! Miss Fisher's Intersectional Feminism (mod: krytella) The adaptation of MFMM from books to the screen aged Phryne up into a rare portrayal of a glamorous heroine over 40 surrounded by a broad range of supporting female characters. The show tackles social issues around gender and class and occasionally attempts to grapple with racism and Australia’s colonial history. What do we love about it, what do we wince at about it, what do we wish we had fanworks about for it? Visit Themyscira (mods: cyborganize, metatxt) Share your Wonder Woman story, whether you're a movie lover, a Lynda Carter devotée, or a long-suffering comics fan. A conversation about the conversation about Wonder Woman: why we feel how we feel about her, what she represents, how she has been represented. Explore Diana's origin in the early 1940s (see: Professor Marston and the Wonder Women) and her fictional origin in the Amazon culture of Paradise Island / Themyscira, and why the character and her worlds are still relevant. Will involve the F word – feminism! (And the other F word – femslash!) META AND MULTIFANDOM Sometimes we pay for it (mod: rivers_bend) come talk about queer romance novels, fannish tropes in pro fiction, and finding the perfect book for you. It's the End of the World As We Know It, And I Feel Fannish (mods: SDWolfpup, cyborganize) Post-apocalypse shows & fic are plentiful, and have plenty of fans, even though they're (usually!) very dark. What draws us to these worlds? What are your favorite post-apocalyptic media and why? What do we learn about ourselves from watching others struggle with the destruction of everything they knew? Where Do We Go From Here? (mods: Minim_Calibre, cyborganize) As the Internet changes and sites rise and fall, how do we stay connected as a community? Can we? Explore the state of fandom in 2018 and how has it changed since the first Bitchin' Party ten years ago! Fandoms That Won't Die (mods: aethel, Lucifuge5) Come talk about the fandoms you love that surprised you with their longevity! Why do some fandoms last and others don't? Fannish Osmosis Fic Exchange (mod: Scribe) Write a stranger the fic of their dreams...for a canon you only know about via hearsay! Other types of fanworks welcome, as long as they can be completed in about fifteen minutes; reading/sharing with the room is encouraged for maximum hilarity, but not mandatory. You Like My Thing Wrong (mod: bessyboo) You know that moment when you’re really into a popular thing, but you hate the popular pairing, or character, or fanon characterization? Or maybe you’ve been into something for a million years and suddenly everyone else is on board too, but everything they’re saying and creating is just…WRONG? Friends, let us get together and discuss strategies for taking a breath, chilling out, and avoiding feeling like horrible fandom hipsters or Bitter Old Fandom Queens when other people just Like Our Thing Wrong. Cest is Best (mods: bessyboo, metatxt) Incest and step/pseudocest have seen a rise in popularity recently in the mainstream, from Game of Throne to Billy & Billie to The Flash, but they've been popular in fandom for over a decade. What's the continued appeal of incest in fandom? And why do you think it's starting to hit more mainstream popularity now? Do you have limits on what you will or won't read--and has that changed? Are you here for the sitcom fluff, the dirtybadwrong angst, or something in between? Let's talk about fandom's fondness for keepin' it in the family! Feelings Are The Worst (mod: jedusaur) Emotions run high when you care a whole lot, and fandom is all about caring a whole lot. Let's talk about different types and contexts of fannish feelings, what sparks and alters our fannish interests, how and why conflicts arise in fandom, what feelings even are (your mod will make a sincere effort not to derail the conversation too far into the intricacies of the ventromedial prefrontal cortex), and what situations lead to fandom obsession, frustration, gradual indifference, and loving everyone in this whole damn bar. Alphas, Omegas, Doms, & Subs: Alternate Gender System Tropes (mods: krytella, keerawa) Why do A/B/O, BDSM AU, and other AUs that play with alternate gender designation have such strong appeal? Do they provide a safer space to eroticize gendered oppression, create a dystopian critique of gendered oppression, or both at once? Are slash gender system AUs an expression of internalized misogyny or badly written female characters or something else entirely? Do slash and femslash uses if this trope serve to straighten the queer relationships they depict? How about alpha/alpha and omega/omega stories, or D/s AUs centering switches? Wait, we only have 50 minutes? Documenting Fandom (mod: aethel) Fans have been writing down the history of fandom since fandom began. Let's discuss the various ways and reasons that fans document fandom! And also Fanlore. Speed Dating Small Fandoms (mods: metatxt, cyborganize) A semi-structured con-game where we share and explore why we love the small fandoms we love. By generating a creative categorization structure, together we will match-make fans with new small fandoms relevant to their interests. Our goal is for everyone to leave with a new fandom to date and a new fan joining one of their small fandom faves. TECH AND WORKSHOP A Song and a Dream: Now What? (mods: SDWolfpup, scribe) You've got the perfect song for your fandom - what's next? How do you get source? What do you do with mkv files? Square pixels? Frame rates?! To outline or not to outline? Do I really need a clip database? Let's talk about it all! Break on Through: Getting Beyond the Block (mods: Minim Calibre, thewightknight) Come share tips and tricks for defeating a creative block. Why We Write: Fandom Needs You! (mod: keerawa) This panel is aimed at aspiring writers, experienced writers dipping their toes into fanfiction, fanfic writers who've been going through a dry patch, or anyone looking to get the creative juices flowing. Topics will vary based on the participants, but might include how to start, where to find cheerleaders and betas, where to post, how to get over that hump and throw ourselves into writing something we and other fans will love. I'm sure the FBI has a file on me: research and fandom (mod: Minim Calibre) Ever find yourself needing to know the marriage requirements in places you'll never live? In-depth information on weaponry? Best ways to hide a body? And, of course, sex tips you may or may not ever need. Come share your tales of research gone wild and/or pick up research tips and tricks from your fellow fans. Oral Not!Fic (mod: bessyboo) In this workshop, we’ll define what oral not!fic is, talk a little about how to create it, and then finish up by creating an oral not!fic before the panel is over! Cosplay 101 (mod: bessyboo) Have you ever wanted to get into cosplay, but weren’t sure how or where to start? This panel is for you! We’ll discuss strategies for choosing/designing a character & outfit, and putting together a costume (for both DIY & “I am 0% crafty” options!) Makeup Fandom 101 (mods: bessyboo, visionshadows) Do you not wear makeup because you find it intimidating, but would like to start? Are you a total makeup pro who loves to talk brands and share your knowledge? Maybe you're somewhere in between, but want to know how that person on tumblr achieved that super sweet eye look or particular nail art you loved. This panel is for all of you, as well as anyone else who wants to come talk everything from skin care to shadow to nail polish. (There may be a makeup swap at the end of the panel!)

#bitchin' party #bp panels

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 6 years

Text

Chapter 3

Levi's apartment was exactly how Eren had expected it. Everything was crisp and clean, and all of it white. Eren had no idea how he was supposed to survive in such a clean environment, or how Levi could live without so little colour. The whole apartment felt like a display room and only the traces of Levi's lingering scents told him he was in the right place... that and the strange woman who had demanded to know who he was the moment he'd walked through the door. All he'd gotten out of her was her name was Petra and he wasn't Levi... which was why he was currently raiding Levi's fridge while the woman was the on the phone to Levi, and by the sounds of it she wasn't happy at all. Pulling out the butter and strawberry jam, Eren went about making himself some toast and tea as Levi didn't seem to have any coffee. Trying not to make a mess left his hands shaking, and when Petra decided she had to take a seat at the breakfast bench and watch him, Eren was sure he was going to either pass out or completely klutz up. It was worse than his first shift at the tea shop, at least at work he'd been shown what to do and told how to behave, here he had nothing but the voices on his head telling him he was doing everything wrong. Having finally made his toast, he placed the knife in the sink and the butter and jam away, before sitting on the kitchen counter because Petra seemed to be screaming at him that he had no right in the apartment at all. After a few more very tense moments, the strawberry blonde finally piped up

"Levi will be home soon"

"Yay?"

Petra's thin smile turned down at the edges

"You don't need to be so rude"

"You're the one being rude. I live here now, so you better get used to it"

"There is no way someone like you could possibly be Levi's mate"

"Then why don't you pay the government to redo the tests. Actually, if you ask Levi I'm sure he'll pay too"

Petra continued to glare his way as Eren finished eating and then drained his cup. Sliding off the kitchen bench, he stumbled as he was hit by a strong wave of Levi's scent that had his body responding immediately. Forcing down a deep breath, the teen straightened and turned to the sink so that Petra wouldn't see the fact that he was hard with no real reason. Being an omega fucking sucked. His body did all these stupid things without him telling it to, and now he was stuck with this bitch watching him like she belonged here and he didn't.

By the time he'd washed and dried the dishes, Levi was finally home. Petra had run off the moment the front door closed, which gave him time to put the knife, spoon, cup and plate away

"What do you think you're doing?"

Jumping at the sound of Levi's voice as he washed the last of the bubbles down the sink, Eren span round as if he'd just been scolded for some unspeakable act

"Rinsing the sink out?"

"I can see that much. Why?"

"Because the first thing he did when he came home was make something to eat"

Petra sounded so smug as she dobbed him in. Levi however only sighed at her words and her smirk fell a little

"I expect you to keep this apartment clean at all times, including your bedroom"

"I get my own room?"

He'd half been joking, but with Petra ruining his chances of checking out his new home he hadn't known where exactly he was supposed to sleep

"I am not sharing my bed with you. And as for my room you are not to set foot in it unless you have permission"

"That's fine. But is it cool if I take a shower before I go to bed?"

"You will shower in the mornings and at night. The human body is a nest of germs and you have no idea what your hands are scratching and touching as you sleep"

Eren wrinkled his nose

"Oooook. Thanks for the lecture. Can I go to my room now?"

Levi seemed thoroughly done with him even though the conversation had only been going on barely a few minutes

"I'll show you to it"

Following Levi, Eren snagged his box of things and his school bag from the sofa. His room was the first in the small hallway with a bathroom between his and Levi's. His room was probably only fractionally smaller than the one he'd had at home, but it was definitely neater. He wasn't exactly messy, but he did tend to shed his stuff into small organised piles of chaos. Placing the box down on his new bed, Eren nodded slowly

"It's got potential"

"You're being really rather rude to Levi"

"Petra, it's fine. Eren, don't forget to shower. I've already stocked the bathroom and all your things are in the second draw. As for things like breakfast and dinner, you'll mostly be on your own unless you like eating at midnight"

"I'll be alright"

Yeah... he was definitely going to be buying breakfast and lunch from work and skipping dinner by the seems of it

"Good. I've taken Saturday off, I would prefer it if you could make yourself available. We can go through the ground rules then, and you can ask for anything you might need"

"Levi, chill. I know you hate me, and I know Petra does too. If I need anything, I'll call my mum. Just pretend I don't exist"

Trying to appear more carefree than he felt, Eren's omega side wasn't impressed at all. It wasn't like he wanted Levi to throw him down and have his way with him, he was totally not ready for that, but knowing he meant little more than nothing to man left his secondary dynamic in meltdown.

Sitting down on the sofa, Levi stared down at the cup of tea he was nursing. Of all the days for Petra to come walking back into his life, it of course had to be today. It wasn't like he didn't have enough on his mind with Eren sulking in his room. Despite the words coming out the boy's mouth, his scent told a very different story. The boy was hurt and angry with him, and Levi had no idea what he was supposed to do about it. What did you even do with an omega? By their very nature omegas were supposed to be loveable and loved being showered with affection. Something that he'd never been good at. That's why his "relationship" with Petra had never worked out, the beta woman wanting from him more than he understood how to give. They'd never dated or anything like that, but she'd well and truly made her intentions clear... but he just couldn't be anyone but himself

"Levi, are you even listening?"

"Honestly? No"

Petra let out an annoyed huff

"I was talking to you about Eren. How could you let him move in?"

"Petra, you know how it works. The government pairs you with the omega you are most compatible with"

"There is no way he is it. There has to be someone better for you"

"Petra, we have a 100 percent compatibility. There is literally no one else I will ever be that compatible with"

"You can't be serious. What about his smell!"

Petra knew full well he struggled with smell sensitivity

"He smells like oranges and lemons"

"And you aren't repulsed by it?"

"Funnily enough, apparently not. As it is my alpha's already taken a liking to him, though I'm in absolutely no hurry to do anything about it. Personally I'm still waiting for this all to be a mistake"

"Then send him home. He should be home. He's just a kid"

"I'm very much well aware of how much younger he is. As for sending him home, I don't think it will go over too well"

"That's not your problem"

"It is given he's legally my omega"

Petra jumped to her feet and Levi eyed her over his tea cup

"I honestly can't believe you. You're rolling over without even fighting this. It's disgusting and it's wrong. He is far too young to be with you, and that's why you're brooding out here... because you don't want him here and you want him gone. Now go send him home"

Draining his tea, Levi rose slowly to his full height

"I appreciate your concern, you have always been a good friend but this is something you will have to accept"

"But..."

"But nothing Petra. I need to go back to work, and Eren needs to do whatever he it is he's doing"

"And you're just going to let him?"

"I am. He's the one who needs to make his own choices"

Gathering up her things, Petra stormed from the apartment. The only reason the woman had keys to his house was because of the one time she'd needed a place to stay while her place was being renovated. Levi had lived in his office the whole week Petra was staying at his place, and when he finally ventured back home, it had taken him another week to actually get rid of her.

With Petra gone, Levi was left with his and Eren's scents as he cleaned down the kitchen. It really shouldn't work, but somehow his own rich tones mingled with Eren's sweet citrus ones and he couldn't deny they smelt amazing together. Which wasn't the way things were supposed to go. He didn't need an omega... he had a full life of... autopsies. The corners of the alphas lips turned down and he cast a glance around his kitchen. What do you even feed an omega? He hadn't thought to go food shopping with Eren's preferences in mind... he'd have to ask the kid what he liked to eat, and at least make some attempt to feed him... releasing he was doing a complete 180 on the things he'd said earlier, Levi rinsed out the dishcloth and hung it to dry, before fleeing the apartment and back to work.

Waking up to find his pyjamas plastered to his sweaty body, it took Eren a moment to realise just where he was and what was going on. His pyjama bottoms were soaked with slick and cum, and the need to be bred had completely filled him, resulting in painful cramping from the lack of alpha knot. He was in heat.

After falling less than gracefully from his bed, Eren was reduced to crawling over to his school bag. Being a doctor his father had supplied him with suppressants, but because he was meeting Levi he'd failed to take them the previous day and now he was being brutally betrayed by his body. Fumbling the blister pack out, he popped out half a dozen of the small white pills and forced himself to swallow. Between his legs was throbbing so badly that he was cumming without being touched, but Eren didn't dare pull his pants down and do something about it incase Levi came in. The alpha would probably be furious that Eren couldn't even keep his shit together during his first night there. When his alarm went off at 2, Eren dragged himself off the floor and stumbled through to the bathroom. Peeling his pants off, he let out an involuntary moan of need. His first heat had been hideous but this was even worse, most probably due to the fact there was no escaping Levi's scent.

Having showered and swallowed down more suppressants, Eren called his mum. He couldn't be here like this, and as much as he wanted to be bred by Levi, he was terrified about having no control over losing his virginity. Waiting for his mum to answer, he whimpered through a particularly nasty cramp

"Eren? What's wrong? Oh, do you need a lift to work?"

His mother had obviously been sleeping, he could hear her exhaustion in her voice

"Can... can you come get me?"

"Honey, what's wrong? You sound awful... don't tell me something happened with Levi?"

"N-no... in heat... please..."

"Oh honey, didn't you take your suppressants?"

"Mum... I want to come home"

He was at the point of crying now, and he had no real idea why. Maybe because he knew no matter how much he needed it, Levi wouldn't help him or breed him

"Ok honey, I have Levi's address on the fridge, I'll be there as soon as I can"

"T-thanks mum..."

Ending the call, Eren gathered up his messed up clothes. The sheets were damp, but not too dirty, so he left his bed as it was. Levi would probably clue in soon enough...

Sneaking from his bedroom, he didn't expect to be sprung the moment he made it into the living room area. Looking up from the book he was reading, Levi didn't look impressed at all

"What? Running away already?"

"N-no... work..."

Work... it was totally less embarrassing than saying he was in heat

"What time of morning do you call this to be going to work?"

"I work from 3 to 7:30..."

Levi's frown deepened

"And your parents let you?"

"Mum usually drops me off... she's waiting for me"

"Fine. I expect you to talk to your boss though. It might have been gone while you were living at home, but while you're under my roof you will make your studies your main priority"

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