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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

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Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cream] 1/2

Jimin and Yoongi share one major problem when it comes to you and Jungkook- they're not hybrids, which means there's things in life they can never fully understand. But that's what you've got each other now for. And he can't wait to get a taste.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, just hybrid things (scenting, grooming, biting, licking, scruffing, and more), hurt & comfort, heat, manhandling, smut, Dom!brat tamer!Kook, sub!brat!reader, Fluff, SFW in this but smut in the next, some Angst, hints at (sexual) abuse, MCs past somewhat revealed, lots of comfort though

Length: ~4.3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook has to laugh a little as he watches you emerge from your room to presumably check out the smell of the soup, all bundled up in a giant burrito of blankets, tail barely poking out from the bottom between your legs.

The dog hybrid had managed to give you some fever medication, a soft laugh having escaped him as he realized that almost all the medication for you is more so branded towards kittens than actual adult feline hybrids- something Jimin explained was the only way you'd take any of it.

You're so terribly spoiled- but Jungkook can't blame him for doing so.

"M'sorry.." You slur, simply leaning your body against his, face buried in his chest as you rub your forehead against his clothes. "you were probably really.. excited.." You mumble, and he chuckles, a hand on your back- or more so all the blankets wrapped around you.

"Don't apologize." he reassures you, stirring the pot with soup on the stove before he turns off the heat. "I'm more worried about you than anything else. And I told you we wouldn't have to do anything anyways, so no issues there at all." He jokes, though you just stay in your position stubbornly.

Jungkook can really just assume what's happening to you- his internet research and general knowledge from his job offering him a few pieces to the puzzle here and there. It's clear that it's some sort of trauma response- but Jimin had told him that there's nothing documented that would explain why you sometimes fall into such a state during your heat, while other times, you'd be fine. Something Jungkook had found could be that your mind simply 'locked' any memory of something happening- making your body remember, but not your mind. It happens in some hybrids who'd suffered traumatic events in their pasts- and from the looks of it all, that might just be what's going on with you.

All Jungkook really wants however, is to make sure you're alright. He doesn't need to know your past- only your future matters, and he wants to paint it in colors nowhere near as sad as you sometimes look.

"Jungkook.?" You ask suddenly, voice muffled into the fabric of his sweater, and he hums, moving his hands to hold your face in his palms so you can look at him- which you don't do, averting your eyes from him. "Will you.. stay with me?" You ask, and before he can answer, you add on; "..even though I'm me?"

For a moment, he can only hear the clock in the kitchen ticking, his entire body frozen in place as he realizes what you're really asking him.

So he was right all along.

You're scared of being left alone, and he knew this already-

but he might've just figured out what happened to you in the past to cause your body to shut down every time you hit your heat.

Abandonment. Someone had just left you during you most vulnerable time.

"I'll stay with you forever if you want me to." He says, teasingly squishing your cheeks a little, making you pout at him with a playful glare. "No matter if you're sick, or if you're annoying, or if you're angry, or sad-" He rants, tail wagging when you start to smile. "-so stop worrying, and let me be your guard dog." He jokes, making you laugh, before you cough a little.

"You're an idiot!" You laugh, before he lifts you up, blankets and all, to sit you down on one of the kitchen chairs-

boldly pecking your cheek.

"Well, I'm your idiot now."

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"I'm going over-" Jimin suddenly says, Yoongi however reaching out to grab his wrist and hold him back.

"Park Jimin, my hybrid is currently busy spoon-feeding soup to your blanket burrito over there, she's fine." He sighs, before nodding over to the window, where Jimin can actually in fact see your legs happily kicking around on the chair, while Jungkook feeds you, most likely because you refuse to untangle yourself from the blanket. "Jimin, I have been wondering something. And I want you to be honest." He says, as the younger human sits back down. "Do you love her? Romantically?" He asks, and it's quiet for a moment, before Jimin shakes his head.

"When I brought her home, she refused to do anything for days." Jimin explains. "No eating, no drinking, no talking- she was like a wild animal rather than a mostly human being." he remembers, looking at the tabletop. "No one knows what actually went down in that home, since she doesn't remember, and the other two hybrids she was living with had been completely shut down last time I saw them." He recalls, and Yoongi listens intently. "As far as I know, she's the only one who ever recovered to a point where she's considered independent again."

"And now you keep seeing her back in that state, and it scares you so much you rather avoid any negative situation so she doesn't fall back." Yoongi finishes.

"At first, I was walking on eggshells around her." Jimin runs a hand over his face. "One step forward, two steps back. It was a constant push and pull." He explains. "One day she'd make amazing progress, and then the next she'd be back at square one just because I accidentally did something that would set her off. It was.. frustrating, as bad as it sounds."

"It's not a bad thing to admit that it was tough." Yoongi reassures. "It doesn't mean you demean her just by saying that she was a challenge. I can't imagine how hard it must've been to work through all of it on your own."

"I knew that at some point, she was using things to her advantage. She was using me-" He sighs, "-and I let her. Because I knew that she didn't do it because she was a bad person."

"She was just in survival mode." The older human agrees, and Jimin nods with glossy eyes, feeling relieved that his partner seems to understand.

"And at some point, it just became.. okay. I felt content being her punching bag if it meant she was getting better. So I let her bite, and scratch, and yell. It was fine." He nods to himself. "And then.. she changed. Became so soft." the younger human almost whispers. "I don't- you might not really believe it, but she can be so sweet. Once you push past all her nasty walls and all that acting tough, she's an angel. She really is."

"I mean, I've seen glimpses of it, here and there. So I believe you." Yoongi chuckles. "And I think I understand your feelings towards her too. You're.. similar to me and Jungkook, I guess." He shrugs. "It's more of a.. caretaker situation. I feel responsible, in a way, since I practically raised him through his teenage years. Every flaw he now has somewhat falls back onto me." He laughs to himself. "I love him. Not intimately, or romantically- just.."

"Just love." Jimin says, nodding. "Nothing else. Just pure affection."

"Exactly." Yoongi nods.

And for a moment, both of them just look at each other-

enjoying the feeling of knowing that finally, someone else seems to understand.

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Due to his job, Jungkook has become pretty good at recognizing behaviors and adjusting his own accordingly. And he realizes quickly that your body and your mind are terribly disconnected in one way or another- making it a bit tough to figure out how to place his steps to make you feel comfortable.

Your mind is clearly content, happy and relaxed around him. You're purring against his chest right now, belly filled with warm soup and fever slowly coming down little by little, giving you finally a chance at proper rest. Your body, however, is still on high alert- ears constantly moving, tail never staying still, muscles tense in case you need to escape from whatever might happen.

He's basically forced to work with two sides of you at the same time- and upsetting one, could send the other into a panic at any time, due to your heat.

But he's got an ace up his sleeve- he's just as much of a hybrid as you are. And he noticed some things that work very well on you already.

You've currently started to roll around next to him on the bed- uncaring if your blankets or pillows fall down. It's clear that you're starting to become comfortable again, to the point of your heat actually making you interested again. And it also brings out your personality once more- as you playfully bite after him whenever he tries to touch you. You clearly initiate every contact first- from bumping your head into his body, to actually laying over him and holding onto his arms. But the moment he moves towards you, you bite, kick, or push at him again- and he knows that it's your instincts kicking in.

Jungkook has had sex before. He's not innocent in the slightest, and yet, he's sure that once you're ready for that with him, you'll be able to give him something he's been missing in every experience he's had before;

something wild, and untamed.

"Stop biting me you gremlin." Jungkook laughs while he watches you dig your teeth into the skin of his forearm that you hold onto- though you're not breaking skin whatsoever. It's just a play-bite, and neither is he mad about it. "You wanna get up and eat something?" He asks, and you finally let go, roll onto your back, and huff.

"No." You whine. "But I'm hungry." You complain further, and he chuckles.

"So what is it then?" He wonders, and your tail smacks loudly onto the bed.

"I wanna eat!" You complain, arms crossed. "But here!" You say, and he shakes his head.

"You're not eating in bed." He denies. "Once your heat breaks through you'll spend enough time here." He tells you, and at that, you begin to squirm a bit uncomfortably. He's noticed it some time ago already, can only really assume the contents of your most recent dream you had while sleeping next to him-

he somehow hopes he was a part of it. Maybe even the main part of it.

He can sense that you're slowly breaking out of your fever, but you're not yet there- there's still a certain sense of distrust you seem to have, and he fully understands and respects that. After all, considering this will be your first heat and first sexual experience, there has to be some sort of anxiety within you. He can only imagine how intimidating everything must be to you.

"How do you feel?" He asks, carefully reaching out to run a hand over your naked shoulder- an action you now let happen, no longer in a playful mood than before. "Hm?" He asks when you just cringe and whine, slowly sitting up.

"Dunno.." You mumble. "Don't wanna.. do stuff yet though. Sorry." You say, when he moves around on the bed, now sitting on his heels in front of you, hands on your cheeks.

"I'm not here just to take advantage of you, or have my fun with your body." He explains to you in a serious manner. "I'm not here just to have sex with you and satisfy myself." He says. "I'm here because I want to take care of you, and because I want to help you."

"Yeah and like, help is gonna-" You start, but he shakes his head.

"Help is gonna be what it's gonna be. Even if you don't want any help in that department at all, I'll still stay if you want me to." He shrugs.

"I want that." You say, grabbing and holding onto his sweater, pulling it towards you. "You gotta stay. Or I'll get sad." You tell him, flopping down into your side on the bed, and he grins, leaning down towards you.

"And we don't want you being sad, right?" He hums lowly, making you nod softly, almost shy.

"If I get sad I won't let you see me naked." You boldly tell him, and he laughs, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Oh no, I better keep you happy then!" He dramatically exclaims, laying down next to you. "What does a poor dog gotta do to make the princess smile?" He wonders dramatically, and you grin playfully, rolling onto your back.

"He'd carry her to the kitchen and feed her." You sing, tail curling impishly around. "And then he'd probably have to cuddle her, and make sure she's never lonely." You explain.

He nods. "I think I can do that." He suddenly says, before he gets up to throw you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You complain, and he laughs, testing the waters by playfully hitting your butt once as he walks out the door towards the kitchen.

"You wanted to be carried." He shrugs, laughing when he notices you suddenly becoming shy. "You never said how."

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"I lied." You suddenly say as Jungkook is back in bed with you, having you laid over his lap while he pets your ears. "I had sex before. Well-... kinda." You mumble, and his touch never stops.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asks casually, careful not to make you nervous. "It's fine if you don't want to."

"No, It's just-" you huff, visibly riled up by the topic. "I don't remember it well. Like, it's like a dream that you know you had but you forgot most of the details. I know I was bad, and I know it wasn't good. I remember that I was alone after, and that I was in the bathroom- I know that I slept in the bathtub, back at my old home, but I don't remember why. I just.. woke up there." You shrug, and Jungkook nods.

So it really is how he thought. Your mind has locked certain memories away to protect you- however, the trauma responses are still there, instincts unable to forget that easily.

"I guess that's why my heat is sometimes like that. I don't know.." you mumble. "..I don't know how to deal with this stuff. I'm not sure what you do and what you don't do during your heat.." you look someplace distant. "I'm broken. And I don't know how to fix me." You sigh.

"You're not broken at all." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're you. And I like you."

"You say that to get into my pants." You roll your eyes, and he laughs.

"I'm saying that because it's true. I don't want anything from you that you're not willing to give me." He shrugs.

"Then what if I don't want to have sex with you?" You ask, rolling onto your back to look at him. "What if I don't want you to touch me? Or if I'm mean? Or-"

"That won't change the fact that I like you." He says, shutting you up. You're so used to people only doing things so they can get something out of it for themselves, that Jungkook's words have become alien to you. He's just like Jimin, back then.

Intimidating, because his friendliness is just way too suspicious. But for now, you just go to sleep- taking a nap close to him, to maybe relax and sort out yourself and your situation for once.

Maybe.

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You're suddenly huffy yet again, hiding away from Jungkook underneath the blankets, and no amount of treats or praise seems to be able able to get you out from underneath them. He tries it all for a good while- offering your favorite foods, promising cuddles, even getting Jimin for you- but you refuse to come out and face him any longer.

He's not sure what happened after your little talk, but he's determined to find out.

"You can leave now!" You hiss underneath the heavy blanket, and he sighs, sitting cross-legged on the bed instead, not moving an inch. You're stubborn- but he's got the better patience of you both, so he decides to just wait it out for now, instead of getting you out underneath. He'd risk setting you off again- and he's not sure if he could handle the guilt of being the one to cause you distress. "Go away!" You yell again, but to no avail. He's not moving.

"Not until you tell me why." He responds to you calmly, and suddenly, your face pokes out the blanket, eyes red from crying, face clearly angry.

"I'm not in heat anymore, you can go now..!" You huff, and he tilts his head a bit confused, unsure what you're talking about.

"What do you mean?" He asks, and you just hide underneath the blanket again.

"I don't know, I'm just not anymore, so you can fuck off!" You growl, pulling the edges of the blanket close.

Jungkook thinks for a good moment. Maybe you're confused? You clearly still smell like you're in heat- more than ever, in fact, but your mind is pretty obviously not anymore, which doesn't make sense. And even if you weren't anymore, why do you suddenly seem to hate his presence?

"Do you think I only wanted you.. because you're in heat?" Jungkook wonders, tests the waters, and your silence tells him everything. He sighs loudly, and pulls on the blanket, easily overpowering you and taking away your hiding spot. And just as you try and get away, he pins you down instead by your wrists, leaning over you to look at you closely. "I want you when you're not in heat too. I want you whenever you want me." He tells you, and you look at him with wide open eyes.

"Why?" You ask.

"I don't think any explanation would really convince you." Jungkook says, looking at you. "Because you don't seem to understand that.. love and affection, that doesn't need anything else. Actual love isn't a giving and taking. It's not a transaction. You don't decide to love someone." He shrugs, before his hold on your hands loosens, arms rather wrapping around you to pick you up and hold your body against his, hugging you with his face in your shoulder. "Let me love you." He hums against your skin, and you don't know what to do for a good while.

He's right.

Love always comes with some responsibility for you- or at least it did, in the past. If someone loves you, you're obligated to return it in some way- you have to pay it back, somehow, no matter if it's not what you want, or if you don't love that person at all. Love always has some sort of hidden meaning. There's always a compensation wanted.

But Jungkook is like Jimin. He doesn't want anything from you- so what are you supposed to give?

Because compared to everyone who 'loved' you in the past, you actually want to pay him back. You want to return it. You want to be loved. But he doesn't want anything from you in return. What do you do now?

"What do you want from me?" You almost whisper, unsure. "I want to.. I don't know what to give you." You whimper, body shaking a little.

"I don't need anything from you." He chuckles, holding you a bit closer.

"You have to want something!" You call out in frustration. "I don't know what to give you in return- I wanna-.. I need to give you something, anything.." You stutter, and he realizes what you need.

"How about your love then?" He wonders, leaning back a little to look at you. "Please love me." He asks, a smile on his lips and tail happily wagging.

And for once in your life, never has a request been so easy to fulfill.

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'I'm not in heat anymore', is what you've said. In reality, you very much still are- and Jungkook realizes as you lift your behind up next to him with red cheeks, face hidden in the pillows in embarrassment, that you finally broke through. So if anything, you've never been so deeply in heat than right now.

You trust him enough to let yourself go, and leave your body in his care- instincts taking over as you whine in complaint next to him on the bed.

Before you went to sleep a few hours prior, he'd had a very in-depth talk about what's allowed to happen in this situation. How far he's allowed to go, what you think you'll enjoy and what you absolutely do not want, no matter how much your fogged up brain will ask for it. So he's empowered by a certain sense of confidence in his actions- and he's also more than excited to help you.

After all, you're his partner from now on. You're his princess- and he can't wait to mark you up as such, too.

He turns onto his side to watch you, as you slowly move around to roll on the bed and get your scent everywhere- dark spot on your underwear giving him an idea of the predicament you're in, inside of your legs already glistening with your slick, probably having started during your nap earlier. He can also see the underside of the base of your tail wet from having been pulled between your thighs in a pitiful attempt to somehow provide any sort of relief- which didn't work. And even your hand, which travels shamelessly underneath the fabric of your underwear, doesn't seem to help you at all.

The moment your eyes lock, he waits. He knows what you want, but he refuses to act on anything that's not your clear words. You're in heat, after all- not mute.

"Jungkook..!" You whine, rolling around once more before you kick after his legs- though he catches your ankle, holds it with a stern but playful look. You whine again, no words coming from you, as you try and pull your leg away.

"Words." He simply states, letting go of you before he moves one arm to rest behind his head, lazily watching you. "I can't read your mind." He shrugs.

"You can!" You hiss, sitting up. "You know!" You argue, and he's got the audacity to laugh at you. "Do something!"

"How about you beg a little and I think about it?" He teases, and he can see in seconds how your cheeks turn red.

"You're evil!" You hiss.

"And you're being a brat right now." He shrugs, looking at you, now sat up to glare at him. "Just a pretty little 'please' and I'll do whatever you'd like me to." He almost sings, very much aware that he's riling you up right now. He's studied you enough to know how far he can go. He'd never intentionally make you feel bad- especially not in a situation like this. But he also wants to have a little fun with you- you're just too easy to tease.

And so fun, too.

"Please~ do something then!" You huff, flopping onto your back, making him laugh- before he moves his arms, opening them, inviting you silently. He's not even gonna move for you- you have to come to him instead.

And so you do just that-

Giving yourself to him in a final display of trust.

And he's gonna make sure you'll know it's not being misplaced with him.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook imagine #yoongi imagine #jimin imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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mandos-mind-trick · 1 year

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Blessed Silence

Summary: You haven't known silence for eight years after your soulmate link manifests as a telepathic connection.

Pairing: Tech x reader, soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex, unrealistic first time sex, Soulmate AU so feelings just kinda happen, reader does have a sort of backstory but everything else is ambiguous, reader also is written as female bodied

A/N: I had most of this written, but I just needed some motivation to finish. Turns out avoiding feelings is a good motivator for writing smut. I kinda like this one. It was supposed to be a short fic, but it wound up sorta long. (This is the cut down version too, it was longer.)

MASTERLIST

Your brain hasn’t been quiet for almost eight years.

It was near non-stop, constant chatter about anything and everything. Things from battle strategy to medical knowledge to ship specs, planets, species and languages you’d never even heard of. Your brain was full of it all the time.

The worst part? It wasn’t even your doing.

You had questioned for a long time what your soulmate link might be. Most species have them, and they vary depending on each unique link. From marks to timers to telepathy the list goes on and on. You’d know, you frequented that list often.

Many, many times you had gone through every option on that list, waiting for something to seem right. You had no marks, no timer, no strange dreams, no color blindness. For years you had nothing. You had wondered perhaps if there was something that had been missed, another way soulmates might present themselves that was unknown.

Or maybe, you didn’t have one at all.

Until about eight years ago when the thoughts had started. They’re not your own. The voice isn’t yours whispering them. At first you had thought you were going crazy, hearing some voice going at rapid speed in your head.

Reading back through the list had made you realize what it was.

You had a telepathic connection with your soulmate, and the nonstop chatter was your soulmate’s mind.

It really is nonstop.

The only time it quiets is when he sleeps, and that is sporadic and only in short bursts.

At first it had been enchanting. You had laid in your bed for hours, listening to his voice think about anything and everything. Quickly, though, it had grown to be almost annoying because he never stopped thinking. Always his brain is going, thinking of things that don’t even make sense to you sometimes.

That being said, he has been helpful to you a few times. You forget he can also hear your thoughts, since he was almost always drowning you out. A few, sparing times, he had helped you, like when your speeder broke down and you were determined to fix it yourself to avoid overpaying for a mechanic. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, but upon looking at various parts in the shop, you had drawn a blank on what you needed.

Then, whispering quietly in your mind, your soulmate had told you which parts to get, and had walked you through repairing it. You had thanked him, and then got a barrage of mechanical knowledge and more facts about speeder designs than you had ever wished to know.

As much as it annoyed you, hearing his voice constantly was reassuring. Your home planet had been entirely untouched by the war, but you had seen news about horrible battles leaving planets permanently scarred and millions homeless. You know he’s involved somehow, given the thousands of battle plans and strategies that flooded your mind constantly.

It makes you feel a bit better that he has a good reason for not actively looking for you.

It’s not like you were actively making an effort, but after you had realized he was probably involved in the army, you had squashed that thought quickly. You did want to meet him, if only to slap him for keeping you awake with his constant thoughts, but you weren’t searching him out.

Fate would allow your paths to cross eventually. Right now was not the time.

Then the war ended. It’s rather abrupt, with hardly more than a holocast from the Galactic Senate announcing the end of the war and the formation of the new Galactic Empire. You had never cared much about politics, or the war, because your planet wasn’t likely to ever feel the effects of any of it. Largely ignored due to its rather inconvenient placement away from hyperspace lanes and tucked into a far edge of the outer rim, your home was frequented only by those looking to hide. It’s a good spot to do it.

Despite this, nothing about the end of the war or the new Empire felt right to you, mostly because your soulmate feels that way. There's little you can do about it, and it seems he also agrees.

The battle strategies begin to shift. Deserter is a constant thought in your soulmate's head. Had they left the army after the war ended? You can't blame them, especially as news begins to reach your planet about the Empire.

You wonder about your soulmate sometimes, if he's okay. You know he's not exactly safe, given the thoughts you hear.

Not once has he worried about you. Not once has he even asked. Not once has he tried to communicate. You blame it on his situation. You blame it on his stress levels which have been through the roof.

You try not to let it hurt.

So you go on with your life as you had before, desperately trying to keep your farm going. It’s getting harder as time and the planet’s unpredictable weather wears on your tools and your home. You fix what you can, and hope the rest of it makes it to the next harvest.

You’re in town looking for parts when it finally happens.

It’s been nearly six standard since the war ended and the Empire took over the galaxy. Your planet still remains untouched and unbothered, hidden away safely in its corner of the galaxy. Visitors are still rare, and usually draw attention when they come.

You’re haggling for a part when you notice a group of newcomers. Five of them, looking out of place as they talk amongst each other.

You can't help but overhear the conversation, given your proximity. Your body stiffens as you pick up one of their voices, many thoughts running through your head. You know that voice. You've never heard it in person. Only ever in your mind.

The emotions leave you like an explosion, your body turning before you can stop it. "You!" You point at the group, cutting him off before he can continue.

They all turn to look at you, but you're too focused on him. You walk up to him, grabbing him by the chest plate and shaking him.

"Do you ever stop thinking? I haven't known silence in eight years!" You jab a finger into his chest, ignoring the way your finger bends uncomfortably against the unrelenting plastoid. "It never stops. Always something going and going and going. Do you even sleep anymore? And, and you can’t even bother to let me know you’re okay? You...you can’t even ask about me either? I’ve been waiting a long time to even hear from you and all I get is useless facts?”

He blinks down at you from behind his goggles, mouth parted in shocked silence.

“Tech,” One of the others says, drawing you back to reality. You’re in a very public place, telling off your soulmate. “You know her?”

Tech. That’s his name? Or perhaps a nickname. He lifts a hand, adjusting his goggles as he stares down at you. He’s tall, having to tilt his head to look down at you, just as you have to tilt your head to look up at him.

“Yes, I believe I’ve just met my soulmate.” He says slowly. They all turn to look at you, making you feel a bit self conscious. “We share a telepathic connection. It’s one of the rarer forms of soulmate links, though not the rarest. It’s affected by distance, the further you are, the stronger the connection is.”

“Maker, he talks as much as he thinks, doesn’t he?” You say, taking a step back.

“Ha!” The largest of the group exclaims. “That’s going to be really loud for you!”

“Actually, it will be the opposite.” Tech says. “As the link strengthens with distance, it weakens the closer we are. At this proximity, we won’t be able to hear each other’s thoughts at all.”

“As interesting as all of this is, we’re supposed to be laying low, remember?” The one that had spoken up earlier says.

You can’t help but snort, looking up at him. He’s shorter than the others, and has a skull tattooed on half of his face. “No one around here is going to say anything. Well, they’re all horrible gossips because nothing ever happens around here, but don’t worry. They only talk amongst each other. If you’re looking to hide, this is your place. No one cares about this planet. It’s too inconvenient.”

“She’s right.” Tech says. “It took us two days to reach here from the nearest hyperspace lane. The Republic had no interest in this planet. It’s highly unlikely the Empire will even consider it, since it has a small population and no major exports.” He pulls out a datapad, typing rapidly on it. “According to my research there’s not even a starport on this planet.”

The one with the skull tattoo stares at you hard, like he’s trying to see through your skin. You can tell he doesn't exactly trust you. But, if Tech’s thoughts were anything to go off of, he doesn't have good reason to trust anyone.

“This may be our only option for the time being.” Another one says. He’s rather gaunt and pale with a headset on.

The four of them share looks, seeming to silently communicate for a moment before they turn back to you. “Do you know of anywhere we could lay low for a while?” The skull tattoo asks her.

You shrug, sizing up the largest of them. “Well, I could use some help on my farm. If you’re not opposed to manual labor, I have plenty of space.”

They share another long look, silently debating your offer. You’re not sure why you’re offering space to total strangers, aside from possibly some free help for the upcoming harvest. Also, perhaps, because one of them is your soulmate.

“We’ll take you up on that offer.” Skull tattoo says, turning back to you.

You nod. “Great. I’m out on the outskirts, though. It’s a bit of a hike.”

“We will fly and meet you there.” Tech says. “I can find it.”

“Right.” You nod. Of course he could just read your mind and figure out where it is. “I guess I’ll see you there.”

You head back to your speeder, setting off out of town and out to your property. You glance up as a ship flies overhead, landing at the back of the house as you drive up. You park in your usual spot, watching as they leave the ship. Skull tattoo takes the lead as they approach you.

“I’m Hunter.” He introduces himself, motioning to the others. “This is Wrecker, Echo, Tech, and Omega.” He motions to the youngest, a girl no older than fifteen, who waves at you with a smile.

You introduce yourself, waving back.

“Thank you for doing this.” Hunter says.

You shrug. “I am serious about needing the extra help.”

“Whatever you need, we’ll do it.” He says sincerely.

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow.” You say, glancing at the setting sun. “You can get settled tonight.”

You lead them inside, wishing you had tidied up a bit. Then again, you hadn’t really expected to have company. The house feels small with the five extra bodies in it. Just like it used to.

“My room’s down there.” You point down one of the hallways, before turning to the other. “The three spare rooms are down here.” You lead them down the hallway. “There’s spare clothes in the dressers you’re welcome to, if they fit. There’s blankets in the closet and towels in the fresher. There’s also an outhouse by the barn if you’re feeling brave. I’ll let you get settled and go start on dinner.”

You scurry your way down the hallway, leaving them alone. You can practically hear the rebuking by your grandmother at letting complete strangers into your home so willingly. It’s not like you had anything of value left.

And they’re technically not strangers. At least, not totally.

***

You curl up in the chair, looking out at the light bugs dancing over the crops. A figure steps out on the porch, slowly approaching you. You don’t have to look up to know who it is. Despite only being around him for a short time, you feel like you’ve known him forever.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask, turning to look at him as he sits.

“I have no need to.” He says simply. You blink at him in confusion. “We were designed to need less sleep than the average nat-born.”

“Right.” You say slowly.

“We are clones.” He explains, holding your gaze. “We were created as part of an experimental unit exploring various enhancements. Hunter has enhanced senses, Wrecker increased strength, and I have a high intellect.”

“That...makes a lot of sense.” You say. “I figured you were involved in the war. I heard all about your battle strategies and whatnot.”

“Yes, that could have been very inconvenient if you had been involved with the Separatists.” He adjusts his goggles as he stares at you. “The Kaminoans weren’t sure if the clones would experience soulmates, but the first generation began developing links almost immediately. It complicated things, as soulmate links are strong motivators and many clones deserted in order to find and be with their soulmates. The Kaminoans had to take rather extreme measures and forbid us from attempting to contact or initiate the bond. Those that met their mates had to reject them, as the Jedi do. When I realized we shared a telepathic connection I was worried that may put the Republic in danger, but I assessed you were not a threat.”

“Thanks.” You say flatly, taking in his words.

“I wish we could have come sooner, but with the Empire after us after we deserted, I didn’t want to put you at risk. Now that things have settled down, I brought us to this planet in hopes of locating you. I used your thoughts to discern which planet you were on and if it would be suitable for us to hide, or perhaps even settle down somewhere permanently.” He continues, barely pausing to breathe. “I did pay attention to your thoughts. I didn’t understand many of them early on, but I’ve grown to understand you.”

You blink a bit at his words. He had located you solely on your thoughts, which meant he really had seen and heard them. Even though he hadn’t responded much, and from what it sounds like for a good reason, he had still heard you.

“You think a lot.” You say lamely, scrambling for a reply. You’re not quite sure what to say. For a while you had been upset that he seemed to ignore you, but from what it sounds like, he hadn’t been ignoring you at all.

“Yes, a byproduct of my genetic enhancements.” He says.

“It’s strange, now.” You say, leaning back in your seat, looking out at the town lights in the far distance. “Everything’s so quiet. As annoying as it was sometimes...I never really did feel alone. You...had perfect timing.”

“Well, they do say fate is never wrong.”

You smile. “I guess so. My grandparents built this place from the ground up. They were fugitives, on the run from the Republic.” His eyes widen a bit at that statement. “They came across this place by accident, like most do, and decided to settle down. My parents stayed here too, keeping it running while my grandparents got older and eventually passed. My brothers left as soon as they could. I haven’t seen them since. It was around that time you showed up. Shortly after my dad got sick. My mom didn’t last long after he passed. That left me alone. Well, alone with a clone talking in my head.” You smile softly at him. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

***

You wake early as usual, the others rising around the same time. Must have been a side effect of being a soldier. You make breakfast before heading out to the barn. You start Wrecker and Hunter on moving some things before taking Tech and Echo to the barely functioning equipment.

“This one’s the most important.” You pat the combine affectionately. “I was in town to get a part when I ran into you yesterday. She starts, but as soon as you put her in gear, she dies.”

Tech rubs his chin, staring at it. “I can fix that.”

The guys settle in easily, jumping right into helping you with the farm. Tech and Echo are a blessing in disguise, quickly getting all of the equipment back up and running more efficiently than they had before. Wrecker and Hunter help you with the more physical things, setting everything up for the coming harvest. Omega becomes your shadow, happily learning about the plants, their growth stages, and how to know when they’re ready to harvest.

It feels nice, having the farm full of life again. It feels like it used to, when your family had been all together. In a way, you’ve found a new family. You know your parents would be proud, after they got over the shock of you letting complete strangers in.

After the farming equipment is fixed, Tech moves his sights to the house, fixing and updating everything he can get his hands on. Anything broken or almost broken, he’s quick to jump in with an “I can fix that.”

You both also begin to grow closer, albeit slowly. Just as you had suspected with his raging thoughts, he constantly needed to be doing something. Finding time to be alone with him is hard, even with the others trying to help. Currently his attention is being taken up by a schematic for a new barn. He had already planned out an expansion of the house for the others for more privacy, which was a sweet thought, but you want to have time with him.

Your moment comes when you get up late one night, heading to the kitchen for a drink. Your mind has been running nonstop with the harvest nearly upon you and all of the details you had to make sure were perfect. It’s a bit different this time, now that you have help, but habits are hard to break and you can’t stop trying to make sure every little thing gets addressed.

You head into the kitchen, spotting a glow from the living room. You peek your head around the corner, spotting Tech lounging on the couch in the dark, face illuminated by the glow of a datapad.

“Tech?” You ask quietly, stepping into the living room, flipping on a light. “What are you doing out here?”

He looks up, barely moving the datapad. “Wrecker decided to lock me out of the room tonight.”

“Oh.” You say lamely. “That’s not very nice.”

He shrugs. “Can’t say I’ll miss his snoring.”

You bite your lip, staring at his scrunched figure on the couch. You shift on your feet nervously, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You could...come to my room.”

Your heart is pounding a bit as you stare at him. You had yet to be so forward with him, both of you dancing around that first step. He stares back over the top of the datapad, eyes wide. For a moment you regret offering. For a moment you wish you could hear his thoughts again.

"It...might be more comfortable." You hurry to add, not wanting to scare him off. "I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep right now and I could use some company."

He moves slowly, hesitantly. He pushes himself to sit up, rising from the couch. You forget how tall he is, used to seeing him hunched over something. You turn, making your way to your room. He follows behind you, carrying the datapad with him.

You turn to him as your door closes, his eyes scanning your room. He’s drawn to the photos on the wall, ones of you and your family. You come to stand next to him, telling him about each photo. Perhaps you’d have to add some more soon.

“My grandparents.” You point to the last one. “After their first harvest. They were so good at this, running a farm. They made it seem so easy.” You move, sitting on the edge of your bed. “There’s so much to think about, though. Everything has to go right because if one thing goes wrong it can mess up the harvest and ruin your entire year. They were so effortlessly good at it. It was like a second sense. They knew exactly when to harvest and could read the weather just by looking at the plants.” You shake your head, tears brimming. “I’m so scared of failing. It’s so hard to do alone and...I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

He kneels down in front of you, setting the datapad on the bed. His hand cups your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. His thumb wipes the tear that slides down your cheek, his gaze soft as he stares at you. “I can fix that.”

He says it so softly, so sweetly, you want to melt right into the bed. You lean into his touch, feeling the rough fabric of his glove. You desperately want to feel his skin against yours. You stare into his eyes, feeling the magnetic pull between you. You can’t help it, the tension that had been building up over the last few weeks since you’d run into him in town beginning to boil over.

He’s hesitant as your lips touch, holding back a bit. He’s probably never been kissed. You haven’t either, just going off of what feels right. You can practically hear the wheels turning in his head, the thoughts that are probably racing. Once again, you wish you could hear them this close.

“You’re thinking too much.” You whisper, pulling away for a second.

Your fingers grab at his shirt, pulling him in closer as you kiss him once more. He finally moves, his arms slipping around you. You pull him as close as you can, your own arms wrapping around him. You never want to let go. You want to stay in this moment forever. You finally feel whole. For the first time in a long time you don’t feel alone.

Tech’s hands slip under your thighs, lifting you as he stands. It’s so effortless, like you almost don’t weigh anything. He kneels on the bed, dropping you against the pillows. He falls with you, catching himself on his hands above you. You stare up at him, shivering at the intensity in his gaze as he stares down at you.

“Tech,” You whisper, reaching for him as he lowers himself into you.

His body slots between your legs perfectly, like he was made to be there. Well, in a way he was. He fits against you like you’re two puzzle pieces, every ridge of his body matching the slope of yours.

He kisses you harder this time, pulling his gloves off. His bare hands trail up your arms, awakening every nerve ending as they go. Your body feels alive with energy as he touches you, your brain screaming for more. You want to get closer, you want to feel every bit of him that you can.

“I can feel it,” He murmurs, trailing his lips down your throat. “The soulmate link. The bond between us forming. It’s been studied over and over but still the actual science of it is not understood entirely. At first they thought perhaps it was brain chemicals sending the signals, but while those do play a role, it’s not entirely what draws two people together so perfectly.”

Your hands tug at his shirt as he rambles, your own discarded on the floor already. “And I don’t think they ever will.” You say, tugging his shirt off as he sits up. “I don’t think it’s something that can be explained in words.”

He stares down at you, his eyes trailing down your body. Your chest warms a bit under his gaze, your skin prickling with anticipation. “You are sure this is what you want?” He asks, as if it was even a question.

“If you don’t get me naked right now...” You don’t have to finish the empty threat, his hands tugging your pants off in one pull.

You’re already wet, your body more than ready for what it had been anticipating. Most soulmates didn’t make it weeks after finally meeting and initiating their bond. Of course, you and Tech had had minimal contact with each other, but your proximity had been very close. You’re not sure how you’ve made it this long, aside from the mounting stress of the coming harvest keeping the desire at bay.

Tech slides his hands along your sides, sitting up between your thighs. He parts them gently, staring down at your glistening folds. You smile softly, sitting up a little and grabbing his hand. You guide him to your clit, guiding him on how to please you.

You moan quietly as he takes over, picking it up quickly. Thank the maker he’s a quick learner. You let your body drop back onto the bed, sighing out another moan. “Kriff, Tech. Just like that.”

The pleasure builds within you, igniting your body. It feels so good, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. There’s a coil tightening in your belly, pressure building within you.

You grab his hand before you cum, stopping him. “I want you inside me.” You say, sitting up to tug at his pants.

He stands from the bed, letting them drop. You gape at the size of him, opening your legs wider. He crawls between them, pumping his hand over his length a couple times. “I’ve never done this before.” He says, staring down at you.

“I haven’t either.” You say, swallowing nervously. You’re not sure why you’re nervous. You trust him.

You wrap a hand around him, guiding him in place. He lowers himself to hover over you, letting your hand do the work. You wince a bit as he presses in, putting a hand on his hip to still him. You probably should have prepared a bit more for this, but you’re too desperate to feel him to care.

You squeeze his hip, telling him to move. Your arms wrap around his back, holding on as he slowly works his way inside you. The stretch burns a bit, but his lips on your shoulder help distract from the discomfort.

He groans once he’s seated inside you, his face pressing against your neck. You cling to him, finally feeling whole and content since his arrival. You can’t help but feel like this is where you’re supposed to be, right here in his arms. Despite the discomfort you shift your hips, moving him inside you.

“Tech,” You murmur, your lips brushing his ear.

He hums against your neck, gently kissing the skin.

“Move.” You say, shifting your hips once more.

He presses up onto his elbows, looking down at you as he begins to rock his hips. It’s a bit awkward and sloppy at first, but he picks up a rhythm quickly. Your lips part as you stare up at him, holding his gaze behind his goggles. You get lost in the intensity of them, the focus as he stares at you. You want to know what he’s thinking, you want to know what’s running through that head of his right now.

He leans down to kiss you as his fingers find your clit, swallowing your moans as you cum. His thrusts turn sloppy, pressing into you once more before he releases inside of you. You both stay still, lips brushing in soft kisses as you take each other in.

Tech pulls away from you, stepping into your fresher to grab a cloth to clean you both up with before he slides under the covers with you. You rest against his chest, wrapping an arm around him as he holds you.

“Tech?” You ask, breaking the comfortable silence. He hums, fingers tracing patterns on your back. “You could have easily unlocked the door.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, I could have. Perhaps I was hoping for an invitation.”

“You’ve never needed one.” You lean up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You know that. You’ve always been welcome here.”

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #soulmate au

663 notes · View notes

solomons-finest-rum · 1 year

Note

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days.

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic.

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie.

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant:

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly.

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy.

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in.

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

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halfmoth-halfman · 1 year

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Hey, I was just wondering. How do you think Ghost would realize he’s in love and do you think he would run away from it or kinda slowly embrace it? Like Medic!Reader, what was the turning point for him when he realized “oh crap, I love her”?

oooooo girl you've got me on a tangent

i think with ghost it would take a long time for him to come to terms with his feelings for someone. if there is someone he cares for, i can see him doing little things lol for them, hovering around them a little more often, checking in on them more than usual, but it could take months (probably even years) before it clicks in his head that he's not just "concerned for their safety" but actually cares for them and even longer for him to admit it out loud. i think it would probably click for him when he's out on a mission and realizes that he actually cares about making it back alive so he can see them again.

once he comes to that realization i think his initial response would be to run. whether that's through distancing himself from them, leaving on a long mission, or just straight up ignoring them. he needs time to come to terms with what he's feeling and what that means for him, but once he does....

i don't think he'd be the first to admit their feelings; he'd definitely wait until after they've confessed theirs, but all of that checking in and hovering that i mentioned above??? that but x10. he'd be v protective because this is someone that he loves cares about and he doesn't want anything to happen to them. it might even become a bit suffocating and there may even be a few fights over how much he mother-hens, but i headcannon that he's never really been in love before (maybe a few meaningless flings) so all of this is new to him and he doesn't really know how to deal with these feelings or show someone that he cares like that.

i definitely see him as a subtle-affection kinda guy so once he and his s/o come to terms with their feelings for each other and are a little more established in their relationship it's a lot of small touches, brief glances, little moments together. it's nothing that would appear out of the norm for two good friends if you were to just casually observe them but if you know what to look for, you can see just how much they care for each other.

and once they're together, he's all in. if ghost is one thing, it's loyal (i think all the 141 would be). that's his person, and he's in for the long haul until the day he dies-- and he'll try harder to be a little less self-destructive in the field cause the thought of not coming back to his person? unacceptable.

now for my medic!reader, i headcannon her and ghost as having a very long history together, with them meeting soon after ghost gets cleared for field work after roba. they don't start off as friends but there's a mutual respect for each other's abilities that over the years turns into friendship that turns into caring that turns into love. i won't go into too much detail about the exact moment ghost realizes that he more than cares for her that's for a future fic but they're on different squads so they don't see each other often and it's definitely something that clicks for him when he's not with her and he catches himself thinking of her and he has that moment of "oh, i love her....oh god no i love her". since they're apart he doesn't really have to run and he has that time to himself to figure out what he wants to do until he sees her again.

a little extra: medic!reader knew she loved him for years before he realized his own feelings, she was just waiting for him to figure it out. they're the embodiment of that trope: one fell first, but the other fell harder.

#lelevvitch #moth answers #answered #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #private

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 5 months

Text

So, the first chapter of that fungus fic I have blew up! Thanks for the kind comments, you guys got me motivated to write the second chapter! If you don’t want me to tag you in the next one, just let me know. Here is chapter two of No Fun in Fungus.

@daboyau

@theawesomeninja-xd

@nights-flying-fox

@phoebepheebsphibs

“There was really something in here….and I just treated him like he was crazy.” Mikey frowns, staring up at the creature.

Raph blinks away the last bits of sleepiness and takes a step back.

“It…is it just me or does it look like….?”

“Y-Yeah. Let’s leave it here and tell Donnie.” Mikey holds onto Raph’s arm while still holding the battle shell.

“Good idea, big guy.” Raph carefully stays in front of Mikey as they leave the room.

Even as the doors close behind them, he continues making sure he could protect him from all angles.

Only when they hear screaming does he drop it in favor of picking Mikey up and running with him to medbay. Mikey panics, knowing that Donnie’s biggest defense was currently in his hands.

Raph barges in, seeing Donnie sitting next to Leo on the med bed and tossing a thick medical book at something scurrying around on the floor.

“Be careful! Don’t come any closer!” Donnie frantically warns as it misses.

“What’s going on!?” Raph shouts.

“It’s in the room! Either New York rats got even more mutated or it’s a creature I don’t know and both thoughts are equally terrifying!”

Mikey stares hard at the floor, his hand carefully changing its grip on the battle shell.

“Go robo arms!” He tosses the shell as a blur rushes towards Raph.

The arms pop out, grabbing whatever it is and lifting it up so that it can’t escape.

“Good shot Mikey!” Donnie cheers as he gets down from the bed.

“It looks just like what was in my room….” Mikey comments.

Donnie stops.

“Leo wasn’t just seeing things?”

Mikey shakes his head sadly.

“He really was protecting me.

Donnie frowns for a second, then sighs.

“Oh great, he’s going to brag about this forever.”

Mikey smiles softly. He’s aware this is probably an attempt to make him feel better.

“I think we can let him have this one.”

Raph looks at the both of them in confusion.

“Can someone explain everything to Raph?”

Donnie and Mikey tell him all about what happened.

Raph sets Mikey down and goes over to Leo, picking him up and cradling him before sitting down on the bed.

His eyes trail down the cracks on his plastron.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Donnie and Mikey.

Mikey feels his lip tremble.

Donnie’s fists tighten.

He pulls his goggles down to look over the intruder still in a metallic grasp.

“There’s a mystic energy surrounding it, and spreading. Its particles are going into the air. Luckily it’s not enough to effect us yet, but inhaling said smaller particles could have lesser effects.”

“But what does it actually do?” Raph questions.

“As you know, I hate working with incomplete data. I’m going to have to test it first in my lab.”

“We’ll go with ya. Who know s how many others of those things are runnin around?”

Donnie’s face seems to grow conflicted, biting the inside of his cheek.

It was hard to hide his emotions when he actually wanted to.

“I don’t know if Leo is in the right condition to be moved around so much.”

“We can’t just let you go alone. It’s too dangerous.”

Donnie sighs.

“Right. Fine. Let’s go.”

Raph gets off the bed and picks up the vitals monitor that Donnie set up.

Donnie grabs a metal pole from the medical supplies and slides the shell out of the room so that he doesn’t have to get his face close to pick it up.

Out of habit, Raph attempts to stay in front of or by the side of Mikey and Donnie.

The two don’t allow this.

Donnie stays in the front while Mikey purposefully walks slow.

Neither of them planned it with each other. It was a silent agreement that they were not going to let anything come near Raph or Leo.

Eventually they make it to Donnie’s lab.

He has the doors close behind Mikey while Raph gently lays Leo on a bed in there.

He makes sure that the monitor is still well connected to him.

Donnie gets the shell and creature into an analysis chamber. It closes shut before the process begins.

He taps away at his computer until something pops up.

“The particles seem to be spores that release a toxin which effects different parts of the brain. The main ones are the hippocampus and the amygdala.”

“Uh….and what does your science brain know about those parts?” Raph questions.

“The hippocampus handles a lot of things so that isn’t good, and the amygdala….is in charge of fear.”

Mikey tenses.

“So….it could cause nightmares?”

Donnie nods.

“Since there was one in your room, it’s the most likely cause of your and Leo’s nightmares. Judging by his reaction they must have been intense. What was yours about?”

Mikey looks down.

“Is it really going to help to hear what I saw?”

“As much as it might be painful, yes. We need to be aware.”

Mikey wrings his hands together.

“In the first one, L-Leo….Leo said he hated me because I….I-I’m why you…..died. You got crushed by that freaky train monster.”

Donnie’s eyes widen before he glances away.

“So we can assume that they’re not based in any capacity of truth in the slightest.”

Mikey smiles very softly at hearing that.

Raph gently pats his head.

“Was there another one? You said first like there was a second.”

“It was….back when the Krang made you fight Leo….e-everyone but me was dead.“

Mikey can almost feel the fear that flashes through Raph through the explanation.

He, to his credit, tries to avoid it showing so that Mikey doesn’t get guilt over talking about it.

“That is never gonna happen, Raph swears on his bears.”

Donnie lifts up his goggles and puts his hand to his chin.

“They’re both dreams about the Krang. There could be some kind of connection.”

Mikey hides his face in his shell a bit.

“For once I hope you’re wrong.”

Raph puts his fists together.

“If their chewed up bubble gum lookin faces try to mess with us again, they’ll wish they were still trapped in that prison dimension.”

Donnie goes back to typing on his computer.

“I could create a tracker for these things using the pollen sample, and a way to combat its effects wouldn’t hurt.”

Mikey sighs in relief.

He could always count on his brothers, even if that made him feel bad after the fact.

Even if he didn’t believe Leo at first.

He brings his head out of his shell and suddenly sees something making its way from the under side of Donnie’s computer desk.

“Donnie! Look out!”

Donnie is barely able to making a noise in confusion before he gets grabbed back, basically pulled off his feet, by Raph.

This, however, leaves the snapping turtle wide open for the mushroom to jump at and land on his face.

Mikey and Donnie shout as a spore cloud gets sprayed in his face.

Raph grabs it off and throws it as hard as he can away, making it stop moving. He starts coughing from inhaling so much at once.

“Raph! Are you okay!?” Mikey asks with extreme panic.

Raph wipes at his eyes.

“Don’t worry big guy, it’ll take more than weird dust to take me down.” He turns to smile at Mikey before his face falls.

Mikey hadn’t seen him this terrified since Leo talked about closing the portal.

Raph’s breathing grows heavy.

Donnie quickly moves in front of him.

“Raph, what’s going on?”

Raph tears up, hand shakily raising up to put Donnie’s cheek in his hand.

“It’s….it’s gonna be okay, alright? I’m here, R-Raph’s here!”

Donnie and Mikey are both entirely confused.

They have no way of knowing what their brother is seeing.

Both of them are blind to the pink, wriggling tentacles in his vision.

Donnie doesn’t know that there’s Krang around his jaw, spreading onto his shoulders and even infecting his goggles somehow.

Mikey is unaware of the pink goo covering his right eye, or the grotesque mouth replacing the palm that was normally hand in hand with one of his brother’s.

Most of all, nobody would be able to truly understand just how much it was taking him to not run, not be so scared that he shuts down.

He never told a soul what the Krang made him see when they tricked him into revealing their lair.

Despite how he suffered, what hurt him worse was how he failed his family. He wasn’t strong enough to fight against it.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he messes up again.

Donnie carefully moves Raph’s hand away and squeezes it.

“Raph. You have to tell me what you’re seeing.”

“Y-You don’t feel it? It doesn’t hurt?….You can talk? I couldn’t….”

“You couldn’t?….You think we’re krangified.”

Raph blinks some tears away.

“Y-You’re…..not?”

“Listen to me Raph, it’s only a hallucination. We’re okay. Close your eyes and just focus on me.”

“Dee, I can’t, I-I just can’t, what if somethin happens? I have to be able to protect you, Mikey and Leo!”

“The best way you can do that is to trust us.”

Raph inhales sharply.

“Okay, okay….” He closes his eyes.

Donnie moves Raph’s hand back up to his face, allowing him to feel that there were no regularities.

Raph seems to relax slightly.

“There’s nothing there. The Krang aren’t here, they’re gone.” Donnie insists.

“Mikey, could ya say something too?”

“I’m here Raph! I’m all good. We both are.” He puts Raph’s other hand on his face as well, nuzzling into it.

Raph slowly, nervously, opens up his eyes and smiles when he sees the normal faces of his brothers.

He pulls his hands away and hugs them tightly in relief.

“Quick thinking, Donnie.”

Donnie smirks slightly.

“I take payments in the form of being the top of the turtle pile and extra chances to pick the show we watch during hangout time.”

Him and Mikey feel the rumble of chuckling from Raph.

“Looks like we sorta figured out a way to snap each other out of it.”

“And we know we can hear each other when it happens.” Mikey adds.

“I’d rather stay on the safe, scientific side and create something to eradicate all these pests.” Donnie interjects.

Raph opens his mouth to talk, but stops short when he looks behind them.

“Guys, more got in!” He turns the two around so they can see.

Somehow, a group of the creatures slipped in and we’re just waiting there and staring at them.

The group scream in a high pitched way as Donnie tries to get the doors opened.

Once they are, Raph grabs Leo and everyone runs out together.

This is the thing that finally wakes him up.

He groggily lifts his top half up from over Raph’s shoulder.

“Ugh, I feel like the teapot after getting used for sports ball….”

“Leo!” Donnie, Mikey and Raph yell in unison.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it-….wait, that thing in Mikey’s room!”

“We’re running from a bunch of them now!” Mikey explains.

“There’s more!? Where are they coming from!?”

“No current clue about that!” Donnie answers.

“We should warn dad!”

“He went to his Hidden City poker night! We won’t be back until tomorrow!”

“Then I can just portal us to safety-“

“No!“ The others yell at the same time.

“You guys! This is not the time for me to keep up the promise! Let me just get us to April’s and then you can yell at me later!” He looks around for something to turn into a sword.

“I thought you learned to trust us, Leo!” Raph says angrily.

“I do trust you! That doesn’t mean I can’t tell when you guys are making bad decisions because you’re too focused on me! So stop running and let me make sure we’re all safe! Me included!” Leo pushes up from his shoulder.

Raph slowly stops running, followed by Donnie and Mikey.

They were all aware that they might have been a bit suffocating with how they hover over Leo ever since he did what he did.

To his credit, he hasn’t complained even once until right now.

And also to his credit, it was for good reason.

Raph gently sets him down.

“Leo….I’m-“

“Nope, no “I’m sorries.” I don’t need it. I’m not mad. You guys know how much I love being the center of attention.” He smiles as he kneels down to look more.

Raph smiles as well.

“Here, take the pole I got from the med bay.” Donnie suggests.

“Always got just what we need.” Leo takes it and then has a sword in his hand.

As this interaction is happening, Mikey looks a bit into the darkness of the area in front of them.

He’s horrified when the darkness takes shape and starts squirming.

A horde of creatures begin wriggling out.

It’s too late to do anything as the others also notice.

A spore cloud envelopes them.

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goosewriting · 1 year

Text

Purpose

summary: after being shot by Pryde, Hux wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

relationship: General Hux x GN reader

warnings: mention of injury, a lil angsty, fluff, fix-it fic

word count: 1.5k

A/N: the doc i wrote this in is literally called “hux survives, i have spoken”, and i think that sums it up really well lol ((also i know that's not hux in the gif but when i saw it i literally went 😳 so i had to use it))

prompt used: All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all. (source, by @/incorrectprompts)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

“Get me the Supreme Leader.”

That’s the last thing Hux heard after being launched back several metres from the blaster impact.

“Tell him we found our spy,” Allegiant General Pryde finished in a self-satisfactory tone, giving the blaster back to the trooper next to him.

— — —

Hux wakes up with a gasp.

The sudden intake of air burns through his lungs, like he hadn’t breathed in years. He can tell he’s lying on a cushioned surface, but is still too weak to sit up and check his surroundings.

Blinking away the pain and dryness in his eyes, they adapt to the light in the room. The ceiling above him is wooden, as are the walls. Hux looks to his right, where he spots a door on the far wall. Closer to him there’s several beeping and blinking control panels, with multiple cables and tubes emerging from the machinery.

Slowly turning his head to the left, he sees a big desk with papers and different medical instruments. A med droid stands in front of it with its back to him, too busy doing whatever med droids do while the patient is unconscious.

Hux concludes that he's probably in a cabin, given how rustic the construction looks. And now that the grogginess melted away, he can feel the waves of pain starting to crash onto him.

His chest hurts.

His legs hurt. Especially his left thigh.

He’s pretty sure his pride hurts too, even though he can’t exactly recall what happened and how he got here.

He dares a look at himself, looking down on his body, and only now does he realise that he’s all bandaged up, and bacta tubing surrounds his torso and leg.

The redhead tries sitting up on the bed but fails, quickly slumping back down with a pained cry. This catches the attention of the droid, who turns around, leaving some instruments it was holding on the table.

“You’re awake,” the droid notes. “I will let the Master know.”

“Master? Who?” Hux manages to croak out; his throat is incredibly dry.

The droid ignores his question and exits the room. Not a minute later, you appear through the door and hurriedly make your way to him. Next to the bed you stop for a second, looking at him with big eyes, as if to make sure it’s really him.

“By the Maker,” you finally let out with a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake.”

A sob shakes your body as you sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. Your body gives out and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder as gently as you can while the tears come rolling down freely over your cheeks. Hux wants to hold you, comfort you, but his body is not responding. He can only helplessly watch as your hands fist the blanket around him, trying to hold on to something.

Slowly the fog in his brain starts lifting, revealing the memory of what happened on Ren’s ship. With it also comes the realisation that you had somehow managed to save him.

Hux wants to say something, but your cries build a knot in his throat and a pain in his chest that aren’t the result of his injuries. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your head while he thinks back to how you had met all those years ago. How you had slowly and unknowingly picked away at his walls, how you had started falling for each other. How you had listened to each of his rants, laughed at his jokes. How you had comforted him when his life's work, Starkiller base, was blown to bits. How you had always been at his side, anchoring him.

And now here he was again, only still breathing because you saved him.

Finally getting your cries under control, you look up at your lover, holding his face with both your hands, smoothing over his cheekbones with your thumbs. Hux bites back a pained whimper as he reaches up to wipe away the tears from your cheeks.

“I thought I lost you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead.

“What happened?” Hux asks after a moment.

“Pryde shot you after figuring out you let the rebels escape,” you retell.

Hux looks down at his chest. Through the partially transparent bacta tubing he can make out a scar on his chest where there surely should have been a hole. His brows furrow.

“How long was I out?” he questions, bringing his gaze back to you.

“26 rotations,” you answer. “Not that I've been keeping count or anything.”

“Twenty– wha– How did you–” Hux is so stunned he can’t form a proper sentence.

You give him a bittersweet smile as you retell how it all went down. You were on Ren’s Destroyer when he got shot. Two troopers carried his body from the bridge. You intercepted them and had them carry Hux into the med bay at gunpoint, where you ended up stunning them. After hooking up the General to the machines and essentially kidnapping one of the med droids, you got into an escape pod and made it to a small moon in the Bryx system, where you happened to know someone. They let you stay in this little cabin since they were currently off-world.

Hux listens intently, trying to wrap his head around the fact you essentially deserted the First Order just to save him. Meanwhile you unhook him from some of the machines except for the IV fluids.

“Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat and drink,” you offer, turning away from the bed. But his hand shoots up to hold your arm and pull you back to sit.

“Just- just stay for a moment,” Hux pleads in a quiet voice, his face contorting in pain for a second from his action.

“Okay,” you say, taking his hand in yours, and sit back down on the bed.

For a moment you just sit there in silence, taking in each other’s presence.

“So, what happened?” Hux asks after a while.

“I… I just told you?” you retort, bringing your hand to his forehead to see if he has a fever. “Are you feeling dizzy or something?”

“No,” he says with a huff as he shakes his head and you remove your hand. “I mean what happened with the First Order, the rebels… with Ren?”

“Oh Armitage,” you say with an amused tone, but the smile doesn't reach your eyes. “You barely made it out alive and you're still obsessed with him?”

Hux scoffs.

“I’m not obsessed,” he grumbles.

“Well, whatever the case, you don't have to worry about him anymore,” you respond, averting your eyes to look somewhere beyond the walls. “His whole Destroyer went down. Just like the First Order. The resistance won.” You look back at him. “Ren is gone.”

Hux doesn’t answer, his face unreadable.

“Ren lost,” you remark, raising a brow at his lack of response. This was what he had been wanting after all. “You won.”

“Hm. This isn't exactly how I was picturing it,” Hux remarks.

“I know,” you say softly, caressing his cheek. “But the thing is, it's all over now. I'm pretty sure we’re the sole survivors from that ship. Everyone will think we’re dead. We get a fresh start, Armitage. A clean slate.”

Hux huffs, deep in thought, and slightly incredulous. You can feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes again.

“I’m just glad you’re still alive,” you say, unable to stop your voice from cracking. “All I want is to be by your side. So you stay put, rest, and heal up, okay?” The tears start rolling freely again. “We’ll be fine.”

Hux’s gaze softens infinitely, his usual stern and cold glare now a warm, inviting ocean. He swallows hard.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he whispers, leaning into your hand which still cups his face. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count.” His eyes leave yours to look up at the ceiling. “I don't think I deserve this. You should have left me behind.”

You turn his face to you so he meets your eyes again.

“Please don’t say that. I would never give up on you,” you assure him. “All of your failures, your accomplishments, your success, your emotions, your body. Every bit of you. I accept and love them all.”

You lean in to place the softest of kisses on his now chapped lips, then kiss the corner of his mouth, his nose, his cheek. You don’t pull back, whispering into his skin.

“It might feel like you have no purpose left right now but–”

“It’s you,” he interrupts you. “You are my purpose.”

You let out a shuddering breath, kissing him again, and he melts into you.

“You can decide what's next,” he says after you pull back. You smile down at him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

“We'll decide together.”

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @dybynyght

#goose feathers #hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #sw hux x reader #star wars x reader

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cafecourage · 2 months

Note

Idk if requests are open; if they're not, please feel free to ignore this!!!

Okay so uh, I know that the post I'm gonna reference is more than a year old, but I just discovered your blog and I went on a binge and, well...

The Dragon Au Part 2? The one with Sky (along with the other boys, but I'm focusing on Sky)? Where you said that Sky would probably never tell his S/O about him being a dragon despite the trust he has in his S/O?

It's just...so sad! 😭 So, if I may, could I request a fic where Reader (who is, or wants to be, Sky's S/O) finds out that Sky's a dragon?

Maybe he accidentally shifted during battle, or maybe one of the other Links accidentally let slip that all of the Chain (and, therefore, Sky) are dragons? I'm not quite sure about how Reader would find out, but they do; cue them crying to another Link (probably Time, bc he's The Dad™) or even Sun, and Reader admits that they feel like they're a terrible person bc surely they did something to make Sky not trust them, right...? And Reader asks for advice on what they can do to make up for whatever Bad Thing they did, and how to be a better friend to Sky, etc. etc.

I don't like angst if it doesn't have a happy ending, so idk how to end it on a happy note; maybe Sky talks to Reader about it all & they "kiss & make up" (either figuratively or literally lol)?

(Again, feel free to ignore this if requests aren't open!!!)

IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS EVER SINCE I TOLD PINKY ABOUT IT.

Typically you were stay away from battles if anything you were learning how to fight. In this battle though your back was towards a cliff and the monsters were blocking your way into the forest which is where you normally hide. Well… This was a particularly bad situation to be in. You duck and tried to weave through but each time you tried to you almost get hit. Luckily Sky was staying by your side for a bit to fight the monsters off. Though the chain was truly outnumbered.

Not to be a downer but you think they might need a miracle.

Then it happened.

A Lizalfos got a fairly lucky shot at you right in the shoulder. The impact knocked you back off your feet and stumble back.

Right.

Off.

The cliff.

It was weird. You didn’t scream. But something did. It was loud and it felt like the air was full of electricity. In a blink of an eye a black plop swooped down heading towards you. When the blur finally crashes into you whatever it was brought you into its arms and pulled up. “Keep your eyes close.” You hear Sky whisper in your ear, you didn’t even know that your eyes had been closed the whole time. It’s not like you’re going to open them now. Especially with a warning like that.

There was a lot of screaming not just from the boys but monsters as well. A few crashes of lightning made you flinch and hold onto Sky tighter. Slowly your curiosity had peaked and you open your eyes and glanced up at Sky.

Sky who was typically the softest person in the world looked monstrous. His eyes were sharper more snake like and Night Sky-esque scales framed his features. Giving his once soft face a fiercer look to it. It could also be the death glare he had on his face. Behind him were two bat like wings and long serpents tail that matched his scales. It would have been breathtaking if you weren’t loosing blood.

Your glaze was met with his now electric blue eyes, “put me down?” You asked as you had to force yourself to look at the others but as soon as you moved the arrow that was lodged into your shoulder made its move. A curses leave your mouth as you slump back in his arms.

Sky was about to speak but Hyrule beat him, “We should find and get camp set up. For now Let me see what I can do.” The team’s medic was in charge now as the battle had been over for a bit now. “Rancher, Champion can you scout out a better, safer place?” He leads Sky with you in his arms to be seated. When settled with you in Sky’s lap and Hyrule helping you through the process of being stitched up.

You had so many questions to ask but you honestly doubt you would get answers too. “I have a question.”

“Yes Darling?” Sky’s voice was a bit more gravely than normal.

“Are you guys…” You had not idea what to say about this situation as you would assume dragons.

“Yes.” Time said before you could find the words.

A beat passes you look up at the token father, “all-“

“All of us yes.”

“Ok…” You lean into Sky’s chest. Before something bothers you again, looking up at Time again you go to ask him something.

He just sighs “yes. I’ll explain later about how our magic work. Just focus on healing.”

#twilight (not lu) speaks #linked universe x reader #luxreader #linkeduniverse x reader #dragon fruit sorbet #gingerbread loaf #I wrote this before getting super demotivated #sorry if it shows #still confused why shenanigans happened

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 1 month

Note

Nisha, did you know I would step on some legos barefooted for you? Anyways can’t wait to read for another fandom I have never stepped foot in and would probably never engage with the canon in just because you decided that’s what to make, and I’ve decided to read it anyways. Home cooked meal. -Rotten Anon

The opening line of this message made literal cartoon anime hearts appear above my head, just so you know <3

Also you have inspired me to post a rundown of my WIPs because I am really excited about what I have been working on. And for two of these fandoms, I know you have said you know nothing about the canon, but for the third, I am not sure, so we'll see.

My Current WIPs April/May 2024

Heaven's Gate (for The Walking Dead) - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Soulmates/Lovers Reunited. Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 1 to Season 5. 17k in counting (will be a oneshot). You can find a preview here. In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the Governor attacks the prison, and though you both believe the other person is dead (or long gone) you find each other at the most unlikely time, in the most unlikely place.

I am super excited about this fic, and the themes of hope that I have woven into it. Because yes, I unironically love writing about hope and how the human spirit can persevere - which is something that my favourite moments in The Walking Dead show. This is first draft complete and just needs to be edited.

The Jaws of Life (for DC Titans) - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Sequel to Emergency Contact. Lovers Reunited. Extreme Angst, Smut, Hurt and (some) Comfort. Set during Season 3. 21k in counting (will probably be a oneshot - if it needs to be split up, it will be put in two parts, but I hope I can get away with a oneshot). (I highly recommend that everyone go read the original in the meantime, because it is one of my best fics ever.) In this fic, you and Jason struggle with the new meaning of your relationship after what happened with Deathstroke - only for this tentative change to be harshly disrupted by the Joker. And you're still heavily mourning when a red hooded stranger breaks into your apartment one night, seeking medical care because apparently - you owe him one.

Everyone give Jaycen @nctzenkane a big fucking round of applause for this one, because he was randomly talking to me about Jason Todd today (we were having the 'some characters are only fuckable in costume' discussion) - and I got talking about how this version of Jason from Titans makes me so passionate to write about the character. And it is solely because of him that I opened up this fic and took a good look at it - I have been thinking about this fic for months, wanting to finish it because I know I am gonna be proud of it, but I kept hesitating because I thought I had a way bigger mountain to conquer with it. But the conversation I had with Jaycen really inspired me and I wrote 5k on the fic just today, and I realized that with this momentum, I could have the first draft done by the end of this month. So I am promising myself that this is gonna be done soon.

Speaking of which - when The Jaws of Life is first draft done, I wanna host a poll so you guys can decide which of those two ^^ fics goes through the editing process to be posted first. Both will be posted (hopefully) by the end of May, but I do wanna know which one you guys wanna see posted first. Which leads me to:

Nasty (for Stranger Things) - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. 3k (this is gonna be a shorter fic lmao). In this fic, you and Eddie have been dating for a while, but you don't like that all of his attempts to have sex with you have him taking on a (seemingly fake) dom persona. When you finally tell him that you prefer to be more dominant in bed, he isn't disgusted like you thought he might be - he loves it.

This is one I have been sitting on for a while, and right before it was ready to be posted - my brain lost interest in it like tiktok does micro trends. But I think this is gonna be really great to post while the poll for those other fics is cooking because it's short and sweet and for the past few days, whenever I have seen the cover for this in my drafts, I have gotten excited about it again. So I am excited to finish it and show it off to everyone!!

#rotten anon #anonymous #sundrop answers #curren wips #wips #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #jason todd x reader #dc titans #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

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keiththecat · 1 year

Text

Trading Hurts

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You're a lifelong hunter, and you help out the Winchester brothers, saving Sam's life and risking your own. Your fast feelings for Sam scare you and you run away. What will happen when you run into the brothers again?

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, hurt/comfort, medical procedures, cursing

Author's Note: Hello friends! Second ever fic here. Had to show some love for the other Winchester brother too! As always, Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

AO3 link here

“Sam! Look out!” Dean yells as he sinks his silver blade into the heart of the werewolf he’s been wrestling.

Sam is standing over a werewolf he just killed. He turns around to see why Dean yelled, feeling claws tear the flesh on his left side as he turns. His right hand goes to the wound, his knife falls from his left hand, and he makes eye contact with the wolf as it roars. The roar quickly turns into a look of confusion and hurt before the wolf collapses in front of Sam. Behind the wolf, you are left standing in front of Sam, smirk on your face and blood-covered knife in hand, “Hi, I’m Y/N. Looked like you could use some help.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’m Sam.” Sam says, still holding his side. Damn, she’s gorgeous, he thinks to himself.

“Not a probl-“ you’re cut off by a werewolf suddenly behind you, grabbing you by the neck and throwing you into a nearby tree. Everything goes black.

The next thing you know, your eyes snap open in the back of a car. Your head is propped up by something warm and you feel like you can’t breathe. Your body is in so much pain, it feels like you’re on fire. You start to panic, willing your body to move to find a way out.

“Hey, no, you’re okay,” Sam’s face comes into view above you. You realize your head is propped up on his lap and he’s trying to hold your arms down so you don’t flail around. “I need you to look at me and take a second, Y/N.”

You try to calm down. You look into his hazel eyes and your mind tries to catch up. Well, you think, if this is how I go, at least I get to look into a touch of Heaven first.

You try to remember how you got here. “Right,” you start, voice raspy, “werewolves. Winchesters.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrow, “You know who we are?”

You nod and then wince when it causes a jolt of pain like lightning through you.

“Sorry, right, not important right now,” his voice continues, “you’re injured pretty badly. We’re on our way to the hospital to get-”

“No!” You cut him off. “Please, no hospitals.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam takes your hand in his, then makes eye contact with his brother who’s driving. “No hospital.” He looks back at you, “Can we at least take you to our bunker to-“

“Sammy,” Dean warns. “We don’t even know her, you want to take her to the bunker?”

“What other option do we have, Dean? Cas is busy and not answering. She’s injured because she saved me!”

“Uh, hello? I’m right here.” You interject awkwardly. “You can just drop me at my motel room, I’m sure I’ve dealt with worse alone before.”

“No, we’re taking you to our bunker and doing what we can to fix you up. It’s the least we can do.” Sam leaves no room for argument. Dean grumbles under his breath in the front seat but keeps driving.

You try to mentally take stock of your injuries. Hm, you think, definitely a few broken or at least bruised ribs. Probably a concussion. I feel wet and sticky so I’m sure I’m bleeding somewhere but must not be too bad since I’m still alive. For now, at least, I guess.

Sam continues holding your hand and mindlessly running his fingers through your hair until the car eventually stops and is shut off. Dean gets out of the car first, “I’ll get stuff set up in the infirmary.”

Sam eases himself out from under your head, then turns back toward you. “Can I, um-“ he reaches his arms toward you.

“Carry me? I can probably walk.” You start to sit up, but you’re hit with a tidal wave of nausea and fall back to the seat. You take as deep a breath as you can manage, pushing the nausea away as best you can, “Okay, maybe not. Would you mind?”

“No, no, not at all,” he insists. Suddenly you’re in his arms, he’s walking, and you’re wondering what kind of muscles he has hidden under all that plaid. He laughs under his breath a little, cheeks and ears turning red. You realize you must have wondered out loud. “Sorry,” you say, turning to hide your face against his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Probably the best compliment I’ve had in a while.”

He makes his way to what you assume is the infirmary. Dean is setting out supplies for bandages, stitches, and wound cleaning next to an old cot. Sam gently places you down on the cot. “Are you okay with me checking out your wounds and cleaning you up some?”

You respond in the affirmative. Dean is standing a few feet away, leaning against another cot, staring at you. “So how long have you been a hunter? What’s your deal?”

“Dean,” Sam says, and fixes him with a look. “Can’t this wait?”

“It’s fine, Sam,” you touch his arm. You lean forward, reach over, grab shears and hand them to Sam. “Start with my back, it hurts the worst.”

Sam looks at you for a moment, then gets to work cutting your shirt open from behind. He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “How’s the damage back there, Sam?” You ask.

“Well, you’re definitely gonna hurt for a while. I’ll have to stitch a few wounds back here, and you’re already bruising.” He prods his way down your back on each side, “Feels like a few broken ribs, too.”

You realize you’ve had your eyes closed, relaxing to his voice even as he delivers the news. “I figured. Just do what you can please.”

Sam starts cleaning and stitching what he can. You explain that you’ve been a hunter since birth, your mother dying in childbirth and your now deceased father raising you in the hunting life until he died when you were barely a teen. Then you tell them how Bobby Singer has treated you like his own.

“How come we’ve never ran into you before then? We’re at Bobby’s all the time.” Dean asks, still seeming skeptical.

“I haven’t been back there in years. Even when I was there, I stayed for a few hours max. I keep busy,” you explain, “I didn’t grow up in one place, so it always felt weird to stay stagnant. Felt dangerous.”

“Like things could catch up to you if you stopped moving,” Sam says quietly from behind you, his large but gentle hands continuing to sew a large gash down your back from the tree. You nod as best you can without making the pain worse.

“Alright,” Dean says, “you can stay as long as you want. At least stay until you’re healed. The place is warded, you’ll be safe here. You got this, Sammy?”

“Yeah, we’ll be good.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go clean the blood out of Baby and hit the hay.” Dean leaves, throwing a wave over his shoulder.

“Baby? I assume that’s his car?” You ask.

Sam laughs lightly, “yeah.”

Silence passes between you two, but it doesn’t feel awkward. Sam finishes with your back, and then you feel him gently place something over your back, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment. You’re hit with a wave of his smell, and you realize he placed his plaid shirt on you. He comes around in front of you, now in a short sleeve black V neck that lets you see exactly how ripped he is. Holy muscles, you think, so that’s how he carried me so easily.

“I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. You seem to be okay mentally so far, but let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

You laugh a little, looking away shyly to break your stare, “yeah, sounds good to me. Thanks, Sam.”

“No, thank you for saving me.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, do you need stitched up too? He scratched you before I got him, didn’t he?” You reach for his side, mentally smacking yourself for forgetting.

“No, no, I’m okay. Not deep enough to need stitches, I don’t think.” He brushes you off, glancing down at his side where the shirt is torn, long but thin scratches peeking out underneath.

“If you say so. But seriously, thank you. You definitely saved me back there.” You say, slowly getting yourself up. He reaches out to place a hand under your elbow, helping to steady you once you’re on your feet. Your hand falls to his bicep, and you bring your other hand to rest on his chest. “Damn, you’re built like a tree. Is that a Winchester thing?”

Sam bursts into laughter, his adorable dimples bracketing the most gorgeous smile you think you’ve ever seen. His cheeks and ears are turning red again. “Aw, is Samuel blushing?” You tease.

This was the start of your crush. Except you couldn’t even call it a crush, you were instantly head over heels in love with the taller Winchester. It hit you like a hurricane. So sweet, attentive, selfless, and that’s not even mentioning his smoking hot body. Silky chestnut hair, deep hazel eyes full of emotion. But instead of giving in to the temptation and telling him how you feel, you left just two days later. You couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected by him, or of being so close to him but so distant at the same time. So you asked Dean to drive you while Sam was out on a run, not wanting to have to say goodbye to him. Dean took you back to your motel and your belongings, leaving you with nothing more than a “call if you need anything” and his number. You’ve kept in contact with Dean, mostly sending memes and jokes to each other, and doing your best to not ask about his brother. Turns out Dean has a knack for dad jokes, sending you at least one a day, more if he thought you were having a bad day. You’d consider him your best friend, even though he’s really the only person you talk to anymore besides Bobby on occasion. Dean has come a long way from his skepticism when you burst into their lives, considering you like the sister he never had.

Now, four months later, you have run into the brothers again. You’re in a small town in Missouri hunting some vampires, when you spot the Winchesters walking into a diner.

“Hey, tall and taller, got room at your table for one more?” You call out.

The brothers turn around, confused. Dean’s eyes lock onto you first, and he opens his arms for a hug. “Hey, loser, what are you doing here?” He asks.

You jog a few steps, falling into his arms for a few seconds. “Hunting some suckers. Guessing you’re here for the same?”

“Actually yeah, wanna save little Sammy’s ass again like last time?” Dean jokes, his eyes lit up in mirth.

Sam shakes his head, lips pressed together, rolling his eyes. “That was one time, it won’t happen again. And since when are you guys close? You disappeared months ago, Y/N. We haven’t heard from you.”

“Yeah, sorry, I, uh, got called away for something,” you lie, hoping Sam won’t notice and Dean won’t call you out. “Dean and I have kept in touch though.” You playfully hit Dean on the shoulder.

Sam tries not to feel hurt that you have talked to his brother all this time but not him. And you’ve clearly talked enough to get close, Dean doesn’t hug just anyone.

“Well, come on,” Dean says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “I’m starved.”

You all make your way inside, sitting at a booth. The boys sit on opposite sides, and you debate who to sit next to for a moment too long, then you slide in next to Dean. Sam notices your hesitation, but buries his face in the menu.

You all order and eat your meal, sharing stories about all the hunts you’ve had in the last few months.

“No wonder we’ve had it easier recently, Dean. You didn’t tell me Y/N was taking care of so much,” Sam says.

“Didn’t think it mattered,” Dean says, mouth full of pie. “Asshats got ganked, people got saved.”

“Yeah but we could have helped out more.”

“I was fine, Sam. I like keeping busy, remember?” You say, then turn to Dean, “Speaking of, do you know yet where we’re looking here?”

Sam speaks up before Dean can, “actually yeah. We’ve narrowed it down to two warehouses on the outskirts. We’re planning to go check them out after we get a room.”

“Perfect,” you state, looking at Sam. “You boys wanna ride together from the motel since we’re all going to the same place?”

“Sounds good,” Dean says.

You all get up and leave, piling into your cars and going down the street to a motel. The boys get a double room to share like always, you get a neighboring single. You go into your respective rooms to gear up for the hunt.

“What the hell, dude?” Sam says as soon as the door is closed behind Dean.

“What?”

“Y/N is who you’ve been texting all the time? Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam asks, clearly hurt.

Dean looks at Sam for a moment before understanding crosses his face. “Oh, you’ve got it bad, huh? Here, you want her number?” He pulls out his phone to pull up her contact and passes it to Sam.

“No, that’s- well, yes, but-“ Sam stumbles over his words.

“Look, it’s not like that with us, Sammy. We’re friends. That’s it.”

“Oh.” Sam lets that sink in and runs his hands through his hair.

“Yeah. So relax, she’s all yours. At least, she hasn’t mentioned being with anyone. I’d doubt she had time for it with the constant hunts she’s had. She’s worse than either of us have ever been with needing to keep moving.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Sam says, saving her number in his phone and giving Dean’s back to him.

“Well?” Dean asks.

“What?”

“Text her. Say it’s in case we get split up or something. Make up an excuse. Give her your number or I will.” Dean insists.

“Okay, okay, get off my back about it then, yeah?” Sam says. Dean throws his hands up in surrender, turning away to rummage through his duffel.

[Sam 5:55PM : Hey, it’s Sam. Dean gave me your number. Wanted you to have mine just in case]

A full minute passes, and Sam wonders if she will even respond. Then his phone dings with a notification.

[Y/N 5:56PM : Got it. Good thinking. You boys ready?]

[Sam 5:56PM : Yup, meet you at the Impala?]

[Y/N 5:57PM : Sure thing, Sammy Boy ;)]

Well, Sam thinks, I guess the winky face is a good sign? Maybe she does like me?

“You ready, Dean?” Sam asks, heading for the door.

“Let’s do this,” Dean says, grabbing Baby’s keys.

Half an hour later, you’re all sitting in the Impala outside the second warehouse. The first was empty except for rats and dust, no signs of bloodsuckers ever having been there.

“Safe to assume this is it then, huh?” You ask, leaning forward between the boys and looking out the windshield.

“Yeah. We all ready?” Sam asks.

You and Dean respond “yeah.” You all get out of the car, grabbing your machetes and forming a plan. There are three entrances to the building, you will all split up and take one. You’ll meet in the middle, and then go to the upper floors together. You nod at each of the brothers, and you all go your separate ways to enter.

The front door creaks open, and you slowly make your way inside. The day’s last light is filtering in through the windows. You have a flashlight in your back pocket but you’re trying to draw as little attention as possible. You make your way down the hallway, which opens into a large center room. As you come through the doorway, you hear grunts and sounds of fighting from the hallway to your right. That’s the door Sam came in, you think and your heart drops into your stomach when the noises stop but Sam doesn’t emerge. You start toward that hallway, and you’re met with five vamps carrying Sam’s unconscious body. They notice you, drop him, and advance on you before you can move any further.

“Dean!” You yell, starting to fight them off. You can’t keep track of where they all are, you just know that they are surrounding you and landing more hits than you are. Your back, arms, sides, and stomach are all taking hits and you struggle to get the upper hand. You manage to block a few hits and decapitate two of the vamps in quick succession, as you hear Dean’s footsteps thundering closer. That’s when you notice a large vampire standing over Sam.

You fight even harder now, desperate to help the brothers and save Sam. You manage to shove one against a metal pole before cutting its head off in one swing. You kick one in the abdomen, surprising it and knocking it over. You drop to your knees, straddling the vampire’s chest, and swing your machete down on its neck. An arm from the other vamp you’re fighting snakes around your neck, choking you and pulling up into the air. With your body weightless and hanging in the air, you swing an elbow into its sternum and a heel into its knee. It lets go long enough for you to drop, turning as you go to swing out and cut its head off.

With these five dead, you can turn to help the Winchesters. As you run over, the vamp throws Dean a few feet, with Dean landing on his back and sliding across the floor. Jesus, you think, he looks even taller than Sam. You run and launch yourself at the vamp, knocking it back a few steps but not knocking it down. Glancing around the vamp, you can see Sam starting to come back around to consciousness. The vamp manages to grab you by your throat, lifting you into the air. You try slashing into its arm with your machete, but the grip it has on your throat doesn’t let up and you’re starting to see spots.

“Dean,” you manage to rasp out, your machete falling from your hand as you grow weaker,” get Sam and get out of here.”

Suddenly the vamp’s hand goes slack, its head rolling down and onto the floor. You fall to the floor, gasping and coughing for air, your hand on your neck. Sam is standing over the dead vamp, machete in hand.

“You okay, Y/N?” Dean comes up behind you.

You nod, still coughing.

“Sam?” Dean asks.

“I’ll be fine, it was just a good hit on the head.” He kneels in front of you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nod again, “Guess we’re even now, huh, Sammy Boy?”

The boys help you up and out to the car. You all ride back to the motel in silence. Dean is first out of the car and heading toward the rooms, leaving you and Sam behind in the Impala.

“You’ve got some blood on the back of your head,” you say.

Sam’s hand goes to the back of his head, coming back red. “Oh. Huh.”

Another moment passes, then you get out of the car and head to your door. As you’re unlocking it, you realize Sam is standing behind you. You glance over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”

“Would you mind helping me clean it? The blood on my head, I mean. I’m sure you’ll be more gentle than Dean would.”

“Sure, Sam. Come on in.” You open the door and head in. He follows and closes and locks the door behind him, checking the salt lines.

“Have a seat wherever, I’ll grab some supplies,” you say, heading into the bathroom for some warm water and a washcloth.

When you re-enter the bedroom, Sam is sitting on the edge of your bed, looking out of place. You crawl onto the bed behind him on your knees and start cleaning the blood from his hair as gently as you can.

“So, um,” Sam starts, “why did you stay in touch with Dean?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know. I just texted him one day and we hit it off. He’s pretty funny.”

Sam’s hums in response. You furrow your brow, “should I not have?"

"No, it's fine, I mean-," Sam stutters, "I just- um, maybe we can keep in touch this time?"

You’re taken aback, and you’re glad you're still behind Sam because you’re opening and closing your mouth like a fish for a moment. “Uh, yeah, Sam. I’d like that.”

“Can I, uh, ask you a question?”

“Of course, Sam.”

“Did I do something to upset you last time? At the bunker?” When you don’t immediately answer, he continues, “Because I thought we were getting along and hitting it off and then I came back one morning and you were just gone.”

“No, Sam,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder and moving around so you’re in front of him. “You did nothing wrong. I got called away for something.”

“Okay,” he say, but he looks like he doesn’t believe you. Really, he looks like a kicked puppy and you can’t stand it. Fuck it, you think, I can’t have him thinking he did something wrong and looking at me like this. “Okay, I wasn’t called away. I, um,” you sigh. “Ilikeyouanditscaresme,” you rush out, avoiding eye contact.

A moment passes where nothing is said. You’re still looking away and you bring your thumb to your mouth to chew on the nail. He brings one hand up to pull your hand away from your face, and his other hand rests on your cheek. “Look at me, Y/N.”

You follow his command, meeting those hazel eyes, your heart feeling like it’s going to beat out of your chest. “I like you too,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

You put your hand on top of his on your cheek. “Really?”

He nods, smiling and giving you a glimpse at those adorable dimples. He brings his other hand to your cheek, his large hands now framing your face, and he’s looking into your eyes for permission. You nod, and then his lips are on yours. You feel like your brain has short-circuited, and it takes a moment for your lips to move to match his. His tongue licks your lower lip, again asking for permission, and you gladly open up to let him inside. Wow, you think, this is earthshattering.

You both pull away, keeping your foreheads together.

“You’ll have to teach me how to do this,” you say.

He opens his eyes, confused.

“This ‘feelings’ thing,” you explain, “I’ve never really done this before.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll always have your back.”

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #female reader #supernatural #sam winchester x you #sam x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester #mention of castiel #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fic #sam x y/n #pov you #keiththecat

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authormars · 2 months

Text

Trauma

This is a Lucifer trauma post. Trigger warnings include: SA, Abuse of Authority, Abuse in general, Manipulation, Grooming, and if I'm missing any, please tell me

I'm a firm believer in don't like, don't read/ignore

I'm making one big post about this, because it's much easier. I'm focusing on the two I mention a lot in my fics or possibly posts here.

I do want to prefice this with that I do not condone or defend any of this behavior. These are real experiences some people may go through, and if you have, please seek help from a trusted friend, adult, or medical professional.

I will put trigger warning per section. None of this is canon, it all pertains to my headcanon/my au

Michael

Trigger warnings for this portion include: Grooming, Abuse of Authority, Abuse, SA(?)

Michael is an archangel. He was part of an experiment created by the father to see what DNA made the perfect angel. Three were created from this. Gabriel, with half human, half angel DNA, Uriel, with full angel DNA, and Michael, with half demon, half angel DNA. Michael proved to be an interesting case, with strength above any other angel. However, the demon in his blood came with some not so good tendencies to enjoy others pain.

When Lucifer was created as the "perfect angel," Michael began to train him in swordfighting. Michael took an interest in him and became his only mentor.

As Lucifer grew older, Michael began to be more harsh on him. Anytime he failed to defeat him in a match, Lucifer would receive a punishment such as being whipped. It slowly drove him to become better (though, the other archangels didn't approve of his methods)

Lucifer had a habit of sticking his whole self-esteem on Michael's opinion. This meant he was constantly asking Michael how he did or whether he looked good or anything to get praise. If Michael didn't respond with "Perfect" then Lucifer was sent down a spiral (something that stuck with him when he fell)

At a celebration for another angel, Lucifer and Michael we're about to leave and Lucifer happened to ask "Do I still look good?" Because he was desperate for his idol's approval. In response, Michael kissed him and said "Absolutely perfect"

Afterward, Michael insisted Lucifer didn't tell a soul what had happened. They were friends, weren't they? Friends can keep secrets, right? Manipulations such as that. Eventually, these exchanges got more common and Lucifer became more paranoid they would be found out. He thought the world of Michael and would never sell him out, but he was always worried someone else knew.

But then, the war began and Michael refused to side with Lucifer.

"But you said we were friends."

"Friends don't rebell against the Father, Lucifer"

"She's my sister!"

"She made her choice. You must make yours"

"Then I suppose we'll meet again on the battle field"

Michael's section is finished here!

Diavolo

Trigger warnings include: Abuse of Authority, implied/mentioned SA, Abuse

If anyone recognizes me off my AO3, then you'll probably know of my Kiss Me, Son of God series. This is a series in which Diavolo abuses his authority and Lucifer's pact with him to sleep with him.

That's the first incident in which Diavolo isn't the greatest person.

Diavolo has rampages, just like the brothers. However, unlike the brothers, his don't stick to a particular sin. Diavolo is a royal demon, meaning he is representative of all sins. This means that he can have rampages for all sins.

The most common would be Lust or Wrath. During these rampages, he has a tendency to hurt Lucifer. In Lust, because he subconsciously sees Lucifer as his future queen (tagged as Dialuci for a reason) and in Wrath because he sees Lucifer as an angel, therefore a threat in his realm.

However, unlike Michael, Diavolo almost never remembers doing these things to Lucifer. When he realizes his best friend is slowly becoming afraid of him, he makes the move to improve. As time moves forward, Diavolo becomes more caring and cautious around Lucifer, leading to the relationship we see in game.

Final thoughts

I give a lot of trauma to Lucifer, mainly as a coping mechanism. I am an angst writer, so the things I headcanon/have in my au are going to be heavy topics. I recognize that this behavior is not okay and I don't defend it at all.

These things happen to real people, and I feel like these topics aren't discussed enough in fandom culture. That's the reason I write it and incorporate it. If we remain ignorant, we won't recognize the signs of it happening in our own lives or in the lives of the people we love.

If you've read to the end, thank you! I know this is mainly just me dumping stuff, but thanks for reading it

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me michael #psychoanalysis #don't like don't interact #don't like don't read #This is Dialuci

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rayshippouuchiha · 1 year

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I just had a dark BNHA fic idea that I will probably not do anything with. So I want to share with you and anyone who might want to adopt this plunny.

So Inko's Quirk is Small Object Attraction. It would be so easy to kill people with this. By either "natural causes" or "accidents".

She can pull on the blood vessels or arteries. She can pull on nerves, the brain stem, and she might be able to target portions of organs or the brain. She would be able to kill or cause severe medical problems easily.

I like to think that Inko learned how to control how her pulled objects come near her, so she should be able to pull things in a spiral. So she can unscrew things, like important support structures, car parts, parts of pulley systems. Maybe even trash that just so happens to make someone fall off a building or into traffic.

I can see this happening primarily in 2 time frames. Pre-Canon as an anti-hero or Post-Quirk Diagnosis when Inko is out of fucks to give. Maybe both.

Anti-hero Inko killing off or crippling assholes that get around the law, like... I was going to give a couple of examples, but Endeavor kept coming to mind. Child abuse, spousal abuse, probably marital rape, excessive injuries to villains and bystanders, excessive property damage. Whether it's because she sees that whoever is too scared or unable to leave, she can make it so the abuser can't physically do anything. Regardless of whether they are heroes, villains or everyday assholes who never get caught. I like to think she has a few political cases, too. Like if someone kept trying to implement horrible and disgusting laws or remove protections. Maybe she starts off small and makes it so they can't attend rallies or votes. If they work around it, I think she'd lose her tolerance for them and they may get their life privileges revoked.

And one of these brings her, or her deeds, to AfO's attention. If you like DfO, this could be what makes him think She's the One.

P.S. this actually came from a fic who's name I can't remember. Basically, Izu and AM are on the run from HPSC who thinks Izu is controlling AM. They have a mental connection that's kinda 1 brain 2 bodies with ghosts and classmates stuck in Izu's head for a while. Inko is visiting that Quirk Dr that said Izu was Quirkless since he's an acquaintance of her husband's for something important when this happens. The doc then learns that AfO's wife is terrifying and obeys her orders when Inko learns what's happening with Izu. Shigaraki is duly impressed.

If it's Post-Diagnosis, then maybe she starts off just giving the assholes bullying her baby bad luck then escalating for the adults who don't learn better.

Just thought of a BNHA KHR idea, too. Inko's Quirk can be agreed that gravity is involved, yes? I see tons of Sky Flame Izuku, but what about Earth Flames?

Earth Flames = Gravity Control. Enma and Tsuna looked so badass using Earth Flames. (It still makes me scream that Tsuna was able to use Enma's ring. Either for shipping purposes or for meta implications.) (Btw, Earth Flames and the Shimon Famiglia are from the manga.) Because if he got his "Quirk" when the Sludge villain attacked him, it could feasibly come in then. Since Flames require someone to defy death to accomplish a goal, this could work. Maybe Inko is aware of Flames and she and Izu can bond. Maybe she isn't but can still pass on her tricks when it comes to pulling things.

Anyways, Izu increasing gravity when Bakugo tries to attack him. Decreasing his own weight to move faster. Doing Moon jumps to get to places. Making things weigh less to free trapped people. Crushing things into diamonds. Making BLACK HOLES (This is Canon in KHR).

Izu and Ochako bonding over their powers. Izu and 13 bonding.

I'm running out of ideas at this point. Anyways, I've never seen Earth Flames Izuku before!

Oh all of this is fantastic and I swear I know that fic you're talking about

#RayRambles #KHR #BnHA

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deemizer · 11 months

Text

The Selfish and the Selfless

Warnings: adhd and autism talk, typical criminal minds violence possible idk, insecurities? panic attack mentions and one experience, though idk how to describe what i go through since feelings are foreign to me.

Parings: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

A/N: i got high and realized my adhd is worse and better when i'm this relaxed. idk man, i was cleaning and thought of this. i base most of the reader's issues as how i perceive them, though with my (possible autism since i haven't been professionally diagnosed) i don't understand what feelings are happening, like i need an owner's manual to navigate, understand and name each feeling. sorry, long rant, but in my defense, i'm high. idk if virgina has legalized marijuana or not, but let's just pretend the did for the sake of this fic.

---

Dating Aaron Hotchner was nice. Great, even. You often had doubts about why he loved you, especially since you started feeling constantly on edge, skin itchy, kinda uncomfortable. You knew why, but you wouldn't risk Aaron finding out. You didn't want to make him decide whether he wants Jack around weed or not, so you stopped smoking to relax just a couple of days before you went on your first date with Aaron. It's been a little over a month (38 days, 23 minutes, and 56, 57, 58 seconds, but who's counting?) and knowing Aaron's career and abilities that come with the job, you figure he knew something was wrong the minute the withdraws starting hitting you.

Not working at the BAU was probably a good thing, as people raising their voice often makes you go into a panic attack. You started working from home, doing a third shift computer job. That way, if Aaron ever needs an emergency babysitter, you're open. You can take him to school, sleep, go pick him up, and have a fun night before bed with the baby Hotchner, then go back to work again.

Jack loved your American Staffordshire Terrier, Layla. She was so gentle with Jack, and like you, she protects Jack like he is her own son. Aaron was weary about Layla given he hadn't been around many bully breed dogs, but the second he walked into the door, Layla chose him as her new person. She still protected you, but he was her favorite. And she typically didn't like men besides your grandfather .

You had had enough, and since you knew Aaron shouldn't be around as he was at work and probably wouldn't be home till well into the night, and Jack was with Jessica today and tomorrow, you took a couple of hits from the Snail battery and the highly potent cartridge. You haven't done so in so long, that even though you had medication that slowed the effect for a good ten minutes, you could already tell the high was going to be good. Layla walked behind you as you walked around the house, randomly moving on from chore to chore without finishing the previous, bopping your head along to the speaker you have for your spotify playlist.

You had given Aaron and Jack a key to your two bedroom house, which is probably why you didn't hear Aaron walk in, nor did you realize that Layla was no longer behind you. Hands wrap around you from behind, and you squeak loudly and flinch slightly as you startle.

"What the- Aaron! You scared the shit outta me!" You pant, forgetting about the hits and the more twitchy you are with a full body and mind relaxation.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to scare... you. What's that smell?" Aaron starts sniffing the air, and you can almost feel your face drain of color.

"Uh, what smell?" You ask, trying to keep your voice even. Attempting to take a step back, though Aaron's grip on your forearms stops you and draws his attention to you.

"What's wrong?" His eyebrows raise slightly in concern, though his frown deepens.

You can start to feel your breath quicken, as though you've been holding your breath for far too long. Your arms start to clench up, and cross to hold your chest. Hands forming a tight, white-knuckle fist, and your shoulders tense up to your ears.

"I uh, I'm sorry," Your voice is weak, and you start to tear up from both panic and embarrassment. This is the last thing you wanted to show him.

"Why are you sorry? Are you," He pauses, eyes working up and down to profile you. "You have autism."

You almost snort, forgetting your panic for a second. ADHD and being high does that to you. "Yeah. I told you on our second date. When we had a movie night at yours with Jack."

"You don't usually react this much. What happened? Are you okay?" His words cause you to sigh. Might as well get this over with.

"I smoke marijuana sometimes, when I'm overly stressed, or need a day to relax, go to sleep. Plus, with ADHD and autism, there's a thing called masking. I've done it for my entire life, without knowing I was masking, and without being able to take off the mask. So when I'm high, it calms my mind enough so that I can't wear the mask, and then in turn get to enjoy in having ADHD and autism, because it feels more natural. I stopped because of you and Jack. I could do without getting high so I didn't risk losing either of you. You mean more than my unmasking. I don't change my personality, other than shy till I know you, type of deal. Just the tics, forgetting words immediately, doing random things." You take a breath, which is shaky. You start to loosen slightly, given the fact that his frown has almost become a thin line. He doesn't seem angry, that of which you could tell.

You keep your hands gripping the opposite shoulder, but most everything else looses tension. He seems to sense the anxiety and relief, because he tries to smile, succeeding in only lifting one corner of his lips.

"Honey, I appreciate the thought of keeping Jack away from it, but that doesn't mean you have to stop feeling comfortable with yourself. I don't really mind, though we can discuss the details later. Is that the reason you've been slightly down lately?" You bite your lips and nod at his question, looking down to your feet that touch Aaron's toes in his work shoes.

"I uh, thought that if you couldn't be with me because of it, I would stop and it wouldn't bother me. I haven't been in a good state of mind, and I didn't really know how you'd react. I can't really judge things like that anyway. I just didn't want to loose the one good thing I feel like I've earned. Being lonely and touch starved really messes with one's mind. Being an introvert doesn't help either." You scratch your neck, kind of nervous to look up.

His hand comes up to your jaw, and you lean into it, the nerves firing with his touch. Being high makes your senses more sensitive.

"I don't mind, if this is what makes you feel happier, and more comfortable." Aaron says, thumb rubbing your cheek softly.

Smiling inro his hand and nuzzling your nose into the heel, you say, "I promise I won't do it all the time. I usually just do it when I'm alone, so I can be free and not bother anyone. I won't ever do it in front of or be around him when I'm high. It's not an escape, just something for the really off days."

"I know, you don't need to worry about that. You're too selfless to worry about yourself when Jack or I are around. I'm just glad to know you do stuff for yourself." He pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your head, and his arms around your shoulders. His touch feels so relaxing and warm, and you just melt into him.

Thank whatever power above that Aaron fell for you just as you did for him. There's nothing you wouldn't do for your boys. Seems the feeling is mutual.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner angst #criminal minds

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jawritter · 2 years

Text

If It’s Meant to Be Pt. 3

Summary: Bad things happen to good people, that’s just the rule of thumb. But sometimes, things happen for a reason, and that reason is so you can find the person you’re meant to be with…

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Alpha in Rut, Language, Angst, maybe even flangst? Cliff hanger ending!!! (Y’all gonna @ the fuck out of me lmao)

Word Count: 2K

A/N: This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Enjoy!

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV:

Y/N sat for a long, long time just staring at the silver Airstream trailer at the end of the driveway in the middle of the woods, one that seemed to lead to nowhere, with her heart racing so fast she could feel it in her ears.

She made sure to stay downwind of him, so that the likelihood that he’d catch her scent before she was ready to deal with him face to face was very unlikely, but it gave her time to think, and to weigh her options.

Of all the places she thought she’d go in life, of all the things she had planned to do, finding an Alpha was not one of those things. It just wasn’t in her plans. The likelihood that Beau was her Alpha was greater than him not being her Alpha, and that was terrifying to her. It meant no longer just having herself to worry about. It meant being bonded and tied to someone. Somemuch so that their wellbeing mattered, and not just her own, and that wasn’t something she’d prepared herself for mentally, or physically for that matter. It meant no longer just thinking for herself, but thinking for him too. It never really mattered to her if she didn’t have enough money to pay the phone bill, or if she didn’t have enough money to go to the doctor if she got sick. But what if Beau got sick, and she didn’t have the money to take him to the doctor? That meant more to her than herself, because whether she liked it or not, his well being really mattered to her more than her own, elsewise she would not be sitting here at the bottom of his driveway, watching the light from the TV flash in the small window, weighing all her life options that lead her to this moment in time.

She was scared.

The Omega in her, she wanted to go to the Alpha just up the hill. She wanted to make sure that he was okay. She wanted to give in, and let him make her his own. She wanted a life with a family and security that an Alpha would bring. This was what biology intended, and that’s what she needed out of her life.

Y/N wasn’t totally in agreement with her own nature. If she took him on as her Alpha, whether she consented to the claim or not, she was no longer her own person, via Montana state law, she was his property. He had the final say over everything about her. From medical decisions, or God forbid something happened, and she wasn’t able to make decisions for herself. He could have her put away. There would be nothing she could do about it, she knew that. It scared her because she did not know Beau Arlen. Sure, people say he’s this great, upstanding citizen. An officer of the law, bound to serve and protect. But what if he was all that in public, and a real dick behind closed doors, like all those horrible Alpha horror stories parents told their Omega children to make them weary of things they might get themselves into… Was it a risk she was willing to take?

Just then, a breeze blew her way, and she caught his scent for the first time through her suppressants, probably because it was so strong due to his rut. He smelt like home. A scent she hadn’t smelt in a long time. There was a comfort there in it. There was a hint of pine in it, and a strong, deep amber whiskey, with the warmth of a december campfire against the bitter cold, it made her shutter in her seat. The hint of his scent only made the pull that much stronger, and she gripped her steering wheel tightly, forcing herself to stay seated until she was absolutely sure this is what she wanted to do, because something in her deep, deep down, deeper than biology, told her once she took that step, there was no going back. Not now, not ever. She debated on this, knowing that she couldn’t even walk away now if she wanted too. But in her mind, it was HER decision, and not biology. She prided herself on being a strong, independent Omega, giving up that independence, even for someone as handsome as Beau, wasn’t going to be easy.

Finally, Y/N, still somewhat indecisive, swallowed thickly as she put the car in drive, and started to make her way down to what Beau considered his home.

Most people would not have found this little place he’d created himself much of a home, but the quiet little trailer and patio, with his string lights and chairs sitting about, it was more homie than she thought she’d find it when she finally discovered where it was. She might have even stopped to appreciate it more, had her nerves not been bouncing around in her head like a rough ping pong ball.

“You can do this Y/N,” she coached herself as she put the car in drive with her eyes glued to the closed, silver door. “He’s not a mean Alpha, he’s a sweet, caring Alpha. One you’ve even waited on a handful of times since he’s become Sheriff. It’s going to be okay.”

Even she didn’t believe herself as she opened her car door slowly, and on shaky legs stepped out of the car, and slowly made her way up to his patio and door before coming to a halt. Surely, he could smell her, and her suspicion was proven correct when a loud, deep, warning growl sounded from just on the other side of the door.

“Go away Omega,” he warned, sending a shiver down her spine at the use of her title in his voice. “You’re not safe here.”

Now, normally, that would have sent her running, screaming in the other direction. But she was nothing if she wasn’t stubborn, and fuck if he didn’t smell amazing, and the way his deep voice rolled over made her heart hammer so loud against her ribcage that she seriously thought he could probably hear it through the door. There was no way she could run now if she wanted to. The Omega had gotten his scent, and she knew what she wanted. She wanted her Alpha. Beau was her Alpha, she knew it, she just knew it.

“Alpha, please, open the door,” she pleaded and he whined as she placed her hand on the cold silver steal of the door. “Jenny said you’ve been sick for days now. I can help. Just let me in.”

“Darlin, you don’t want to be tied to a man like me, and if you come in here, I’m not gonna be able to stop. Leave, please, while I still have the composure to let you,” he tried again, and she flinched at the rejection in his voice.

He was standing closer to the door now, probably leaning on the other side, because she could swear that she felt the heat of his body coming through the thin steel.

“You’re not gonna scare me off Beau,” she stated matter of factly, rooted in her own stubbornness. She never was one to give up very easily and walk away, especially not when it took all the self convincing to even come all the way out here to see him.

“I’m not trying to scare you, I’m telling you the truth,” he growled through the door. “I’m telling you the truth. I’ve got more baggage than I can even handle on a good day. My job is dangerous, I’m more likely to die on the end of some asshole’s gun than I am to retire. I’ve got a child with another woman. I live in a goddamn tin-can that I call a trailer. I’m old enough to be your dad. I’m action packed with issues you will hopefully never see. I’ve got trust issues, and separation anxiety. I talk to fucking much. I promise you Omega, you don’t want me. No one does.”

Y/N leaned her forehead against the cold door, and closed her eyes to fight against the sudden pit that had begun to form in the pit of her stomach. His scent had changed to an almost sour, oppressively sad scent that could have been suffocating, and it told her that he believed every word that had just come out of his mouth. It made her heart ache for him. No one deserves to feel that way. No one deserves to be that alone.

“Beau,” Y/N tried again, there was something deep down inside of her that wouldn’t let her give up, she just couldn’t walk away from him. “I got to work every day at a restaurant owned by a fucking drug cartel, and you know that, I’m not stupid.” She was met with a deep, agitated growl on the other side of the door, but continued anyway.

“It’s likely that I might end up dead one day because of it, because all it will take is one pissed off supplier to walk in, and we’re all done for. I don’t care that you have a child with another woman, or have had a life besides me, that child is a part of you, and I’m going to care about her just as much as you do IF you will let me. I’ve met Emily, and she’s an amazing kid with some of your best qualities. That isn’t gonna send me screaming in another direction. Your place here is gorgeous and peaceful. Honestly, I don’t need a lot, you’re more of a home to me than a building and four walls, I know you can sense it too. I really could care less how old you are, I never liked guys my age anyways.”

Y/N side down the trailer door and sat on the step, leaning her back to it as she continued. His scent was overpowering, and honestly, her legs were shaking so hard it was getting hard for even her to stand as the first signs of those ever so familiar heat cramps started to roll in. His scent was starting to affect her more and more the longer she was there, but she didn’t care. She just wanted him to open the damn door.

“I’ve been on my own since my dad kicked me out of their house when I was sixteen years old. So, I got my share of Abandonment, and trust issues. But if we’re gonna be alone, might as well do that together, because I know you feel the pull Beau, or else you would have run me off for real. As far as you talking too much? Well, I’m so shy half the time and intimidated by things that most people don’t even notice or care about that I can’t get a world out edgewise, and it would be nice to have someone around that knows what to say when I just don’t. I promise you Alpha, you would be the best thing that’s ever walked into my life if you’d have me, whether you believed me or not.”

For a beat, neither of them made a sound. The only thing she could really hear was the sound of her own heart racing, and the crickets off in the distance, and she thought maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to ever open the door. That maybe he didn’t want more baggage. He’d said he’d already had enough, and maybe she was wasting her time and no matter how bad it hurt, it was either leave him here to go feral and die alone, or sit here and die right along with him…

Until she heard the latch unlock on the door….

Forever:

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe

@jensenslady79

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#beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #alpha beau arlen x omega reader #alpha beau arlen #omega reader #abo #abo fanfiction #abo fanfic #x reader inserts #beau arlen x y/n #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #if it's meant to be #jawritter

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