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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

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Hello! May I request a reader x Keegan drabble where the reader is an artist in secret?

Sure, they roam the wake of no mans land in a ravaging war, but in the moments they are not on missions they capture the scenery around them. Wether it be on rooftops, surrounding woods or abandoned shelters, the reader revels in the few moments of silence they have before another bombardment of bloodshed is thrown their way to remember places or things around them before they eventually move again

How would Keegan react, let alone if he caught reader sketching him?

Thank you for your time, have a good day :D

—Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞

The camp is quiet, and you are tired.

Looking out along the wreckage of this wasted world, there seems to be no end to the broken valleys or the craters of rock—this desolation remains as if an angry God had thrown a tantrum, and smashed the earth to bits. Trees grew sideways, wreckage that could be bits of houses or even remnants of bone breed in the little spaces under moss and bush; where the rest died, nature took back what was hers. Thus, the cycle continued.

What breathes, dies, and with that firm and undisputable reality, you find beauty in moments like these.

You blink down at what still breathes of the patchwork lungs of No Man’s Land, pencil in your hand still for but a moment of red-eyed concentration. The deer was down in the dip below the Ghosts’ quiet camp for the steadily growing night—white where it should be a tawny-blonde shade. Barely breathing, you watch with half of its albino form sketched out in short bursts of graphite on your sun-bleached possession.

A sketchbook, old, and worn to the very binding of its pages, and yet to you a more prized possession had never been held in your grip.

So focused on the deer and its white shadow; its lithe body as it grazes along the forest floor amidst a soft rustling of leaves, you don’t notice the man behind you—a man supposed to be sleeping.

It’s a minute of looking at your awe-filled face before Keegan clears his throat, speaking in a low grumble. “Not every day you see that, huh?”

You startle back so quickly that your pencil slips out of your hand, bouncing off your thighs before clattering to the flat rock that serves as your lookout platform. A clink of metal on stone is all it takes, the pencil falling down into the lower land and striking through greenery as you gasp and snap your eyes away. The flighty heart of the deer all at once sparked in a puff of air from its nostrils and a flair of a raised tail.

It disappears into the bushes and its white flash is seen until the thick foliage swallows it again. You look back just in time to grace your eyes with one last glimpse.

A deep disappointment blooms and you level out a sigh as Keegan clicks his tongue, guiltily rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Shit, Sweetheart,” he hums, “didn’t mean to…” Keegan tapers off with a low groan. “I’ll, uh, get you a new pencil when we’re back, yeah?”

You stare at the forest a moment longer before huffing out and shifting—you turn and glance at the Sergeant before grumbling out, “You have a nasty habit of sneaking up on people, Russ. I don’t like it when it’s me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, his body still in gear and armed just like yours. Even sleeping, Ghosts bore the fangs of the living. Keegan’s face is down a mask, though, so you’re privy to see his built jaw and strong features in the moonlight. Black hair like a void.

He sighs.

“Again, didn’t mean to. Thought you knew I was there.” Your eyes roll, but a small smirk snaps your lip.

“Of course you did.” Huffing and shaking his head, the man comes to lean against your rock.

“What ya workin’ on anyways? Seen you scribblin’ in that thing every chance you get. Got curious enough tonight to ask when I saw you up during Ajax’s watch.” He blinks at you, swirling with curiosity and dim intrigue. “You take over for him?”

You smile, shrugging. “Maybe.” Keegan stares and raises a dark brow as your form leans closer, presenting your object of patience and smudged graphite. “You gonna wake him up?”

The man takes the object and studies your half-finished work with an acute eye, taking in the lines and erased bits that indent the paper. He tilts his head at it and a moment later he grunts an answer, lost in thought.

“Depends.” Blue meets your vision in a slow sweep. “You tired?”

Face burning, you clear your throat and begin to stutter a negative before the worst moment of your life takes place.

Keegan grabs one page of your sketchbook and starts flipping. Heart lurching and eyes wrenching open to the size of dinner plates, your hand snatches at the old cover—but not before the damage is done.

The dead-gazed Sergeant locks onto a perfect image of his own sleeping body from hours earlier. Drawn face soft and calm in the gray of blended material that you’d had to use your finger to achieve, and limbs loose; he almost seemed to come off the page in an intensive display of detail.

Keegan pauses and feels his jaw slightly slacken, eyes going that bit wider before his brows lift in shocked pleasure. Your hand latches onto the top of your book and rips it from the man’s grasp easily.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through people’s things?!” Your heart is racing, palms going clammy. At your chest, you hold your belonging with a tight scoff of embarrassment.

Keegan’s lids move up and down three times in quick succession before he replies. A tease is so deep in his words you cringe with a burning face.

“Anyone tell you it’s rude to watch people sleep, Sweetheart?” Glaring, you have to look away.

It wasn’t exactly common knowledge to others that you liked the gruff man, but if anyone took one look into your sketchbook they’d know the truth. Pages were dedicated to finding the perfect slant of his eyes—that structure of his jaw and his broken-one-to-many-times nose.

His lips and how his skin looked when he smirked.

Shame tightens your face and you stare hard at the trees a few feet away; the sleeping forms of your comrades. Until a smooth chuckle leaves you breathless.

A puff of air spreads over your cheek but you don’t dare turn your head.

Keegan whispers to you slowly, that gravel in his tone and his lips brushing against your ear as he leans closer to you—arms crossed in front of him.

“If you wanted me to pose there, Doll, all you had to do was ask me. No use watchin’ from a distance…I’ll give you the full tour.”

He walks off back to his mat of leaves and grass and you’re left gaping and choking on your own thoughts; honied vision dripping shock.

Keegan calls easily over his shoulder as if his comment hadn’t made your pulse pound, “I’m waking up Ajax—go back to bed. Scenery’ll be the same come morning.”

You breathe in his sly quip, “trust me.”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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thewriterg · 5 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.1

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; new recruits, questions, and a bag of tricks

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n; my toxic trait is starting a new series before finishing my other ones 😊 | chasin chaos masterlist

“Sergeant Mactavish, Werewolf.” The brunette held his hand out clawed fingers reaching about for the lieutenant who barely spared it a glance before looking back towards his sergeant and captain who smirked or started back at him smugly your presence lacking completely which was uncommon even if you weren’t meeting the eye he could feel your presence today it was gone but he temporarily stopped himself from dawning on it while words spewed from his lips

“Where’d you find this guy?” The gruff voice drizzled over the sassy reply made Gaz bight back a chuckle

“At the end of a rainbow” The harpy replied smartly his arms crossed over his chest feathers lying delicately over the surface of his forearms slightly lighter than the ones on his back where his wings sat it’s trail coming curtly to an end when it reached his the front of his wrist that damned fitted cap resting around his head in its common home ground talons tapping one of the many quills the sound almost sounding if he were thunking a table having his feathers harden on command just for the sake of it a quirk you could say

“Worth his weight in gold mind you” Price offered eyes not looking up from some type of notes he were reading over thick pear and moss mixed green colored horns sitting adorned on his well kept hair curling slightly forward and up Ghost could tell he was wearing an older shirt since there were two holes cut out instead of one for his stray wing that still sat strong spar bones matching the color of his horns and furless tail while the mainsail resembled a more dirty rag cream color

“They said it not me” Soap grinned mock waving off the compliment quirking the damned thick bushy brow of his the only one with a slit slicing right through the point of the arch while the hulking man sighed heavily dragging a hand over his covered face balaclava with a simple print of his actual hard mask a skull

“Fuckin’ hell… you follow orders?” The muffled voice was not a mere obstacle for the hybrid to hear the slight pointed ears on the side of his face doing their job well to listen

“I well trained if that’s what you’re asking. Sit, stay, paw, jump, roll over, I know ‘em all.” The brunette looked off mocking a ponderous expression counting off on his fingers the canines in his mouth slightly showing even though they were retracted

“Real bag of tricks, aren’t you?” The instinct in the sergeant perked up as you suddenly trailed beside ghost surprised that he hadn’t been able to pick up your presence or at least your scent quicker like he had with Ghost especially since they were so… different not having a face to match with your cooled voice since it seemed you also favored a balaclava yours simply plain black yet he didn’t mind just gave him two sheets to play at once…

Raking eyes over your figure the man determined you were a looker for sure yet he didn’t miss how the other silently agreed

“My apologies miss, I dinae get your name” Soap stated a now gentle smile resting on his face that you seemingly ignored accent seeping through a little more and as more time went on the more he could smell the authority coming from you and Ghost it was a little less than Price yet more than Gaz and the other recruits around base

“Depends who you ask. What’s the role you’ve had in your pack?” You questioned eyes low that he could see through the gap in your mask where your sight shone through staring him down almost as if you could see right through his soul yet he kept his quirky grin Mohawk stopping just below the base of his neck a small piece of stray hair lying against his forehead thick fluffy tail perking up slightly swaying against the back of his thighs cargo pants dipping in the back just below his tail

“I’ve been in a few packs could be an alpha, beta, omega if you wanted me to… but I seen you have your roles sorted. I’ve got no problem bein’ ah pup miss” You roll your eyes at that while the brunette winks you swiftly trail away dragging Ghost away with you picking up Price on the way while both men let you drag them along their hulking figure’s towering over your back boots slightly thumping against the floor before your figures disappear within the halls he turns to the crow who’s fiddling with the screen of his phone

“You ever feel left out of somethin’?” Soap questions and Gaz suddenly stands a small smirk on his face as he rakes his eyes over the wolf before shaking his head

“There’s enough for everyone to get their fill, you’ll be next soon enough” Without an explanation the sergeant was already trailing away opposite of where you had gone leaving him alone

But never for too long

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s rude to stare sergeant” Ghost grunted gruffly after jamming his janky locker shut barely giving Soap enough time to look at his shadows slipping from under his glove some looking like it was traveling farther up almost resembling veins while the rest began to make a small cloud on his wrist until he shoved his sleeve over the sight unapologetic about the whole thing barely looking over his shoulder to acknowledge the wolf as he stood behind him

“Just tryin’ ta figure you out, Lt.” He grins tail becoming livelier as it perks up behind his back before it reluctantly lowers still up and lively

“I’m well traveled, seen a lot of things, met a lot of people. Never smelt anythin’ like you… or Flatline for that matter” A slightly clawed finger rests curled on his chin tail gently flapping up and down it had been a little over a week since he was recruited it didn’t take long for him to find out your name or call sign that might have well been your name since no one seemed to know it just by the brief description of eerie, bold eyes, and a mask to cover you face, he got the answer of either Ghost or Flatline

“Hell of a compliment soldier” The blonde resorts almost sarcastically finally looking over his broad shoulder to lock eyes with the brunette and he waves him off finally stepping closer to the skull mask wearing man deciding by his side was the best place to stand and if he noted the smoke trying to spill from his pockets where he had his hands shoved deeply he didn’t say anything about it

“Och, you know I dinnae mean it that way. Can’t blame me for bein’ interested, I never packed with a wraith hybrid before… or a phoenix thought they were bedtime stor-”

“Not hybrids” Ghost cuts off the scott before he can dig any deeper and he furrowed his eyebrows questioning if he had heard right if his ears were failing him or not with a small ‘what’ spilled from his lips

“We’re not hybrids.”

“No shit? What the hell is tha’ like?” Swiftly Simon was in front of him eyes bold yet precise slicing right through him while Johnny’s gaze slightly widened at the quick movement his boots not even so much a squeaking against the ground a bit of the air currents flowing against Soaps slight shorter form

“You ever shut up Mactavish?” He somewhat seethed and the wolf was back to sly grin in less than minute, the grin that showed his canines in the full well kept facial hair adorning his structure even more, the grin the wraith wanted to wipe of his fucking face to be exact.

“Only when people make me.” Soap implied looking up slightly to address his superior with a voice that would make other feverish or peely in his terms that damned drunken grin still on his lips while Ghost practically stared him down eyes slightly squinted thoughts brewing behind those sharp, precise eyes of his that the Scott couldn’t wait to hear of tail swaying behind him with a bit more speed than before but of course his Lt. was a tease and put all his weight on one foot to turn walking out of the locker room without so much a grunt but he liked the chase

And so did superiors

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“It’s an in and out mission that I’m sure you could do on your own, however I don’t need higher ups on my ass about favoritism. You’ll grab a few normals and head Midwest in the states to Chicago. One out of three missiles resigns with one of the biggest weapons busts in America that’s supposedly on its way over to Russia package delivery for a friend of ours… Makarov.” The air in the room shifted at the name drop of a once friend fallen foe even though You and Prices shoulders were up at the mere mention of Russia itsself you had a love hate relationship with meeting room as you got passed a file over things you truly didn’t need to go over things that a rookie could even fill in the blanks for

“This will either be the easiest sail of your life or your standing on the line of death, you all know your first priority even though I know you don’t want to hear it. Push come to shove the normals go first.” The older short cut haired woman looked at You, Price, and Ghost especially Soap noticed it confused him at first the wraith and phoenix at least, two lieutenants in such a small base or at least a small base that wasn’t Air Force but it made sense to him shortly after when he peeked in on occasional training sessions thought out a week You and Ghost switched groups between normals and weaker hybrids both favoring one group more than the other deep down and then at the end of the week bring them together to spar

“Wheels up at 04:00 tomorrow I’m sure you’ll have your picks by then.” Laswell sighed looking around the table for any objections your sitting between Soap and Gaz while Price and Ghost are sitting on the opposite side of the rounded table one of your legs are crossed under your form while the other is propped up you have your arms wrapped around it and your covered chin is lying on your knee and without another word she grabbed her laptop and exited room something about a ball and chain to her desk

The wolf and harpy are first to get up from their seats and the winged hybrid doesn’t go before gently brushing his fingers against your arm migrating towards the exit even though he’s stopped shortly by a shit eating grin and swaying tail conversation quickly taking place between the two

“So, what do you think?” Price hums both him and Simon approaching your seat as you began to stand rolling your shoulders eyes low beneath your mask it was still early in the day only 13:27 you had a training group normals at 14:15 sharp anyone who was a minute late got to run laps around base even if they weren’t hybrids or the ‘superior’ race in the field you couldn’t determine if you were fighting a hybrid or a normal and if you babied them because they were weaker than a super they wouldn’t have a fighting chance against one.

“He asks a lot of questions” Ghost responds curtly while the older man takes no offense to it producing a chuckle from the back of his throat taking out a cigar from his breast pocket in his vest holding out the thick brown lump filled with nicotine out to the blonde who responded by taking out a silver lighter snapping the cover back quickly as it produced a flame its front covered by an ace card with its main attraction being a skull the drug lights aflame a small hissing sound coming from it when the salt and pepper haired hybrid took a drag

“Comes with the package. Wolves don’t like uncertainty in the pack dynamic.”

“He knew you and Gaz before he transferred, didn’t he?” You spoke up squinting your eyes at your captain eyelashes mere meters away from kissing your cheek standing the only way he could get a read on you and Simon he usually says ‘those eyes can tell you everything and nothing all at once, just gotta watch em.’

“Yes, but you’re both hell of a new variable” Price admits before smugly nudging your shoulders with his strong single wing while Ghost crossed his arms over his chest you roll your eyes stepping away from the pair

“Save your verdicts until you see him in action, he’s a vision in the field.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Hey… how yall doing 😅

I haven’t posted since October I missed you writers!

Ermm I’m a year older —Nov 8th— happy belated birthday to me

And that’s about it 😭

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zagreuses-art · 6 months

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The fine Rank and File (or at least the rank) of the Ankh Morpork city watch! I've been figuring out my designs for them, and I wanted to put them in a lineup to see how they look beside one another. makes you realize how ridiculous the height difference between some of them is

[ID: three digital drawings of the Watch members, against a police lineup background with height marks and an ankh morpork city watch watermark and logo. The featured members are in order of height: Detritus, Dorfl, Carrot, Angua. then Reg Shoe, Visit, Colon, and Vimes. finally, Nobby, Cheery, Buggy Swires and Wee Mad Arthur. they are all wearing variations on the watch uniform of brass colored armor, chainmaille, leather boots or sandals, and a skirt of studded leather straps. end ID]

more detailed description of the designs under the cut

First drawing: standing at over 8 feet is Dorfl. He is a grey-green troll with a very muscled top heavy build, patches of moss on his skin, and angular features. He is wearing oversized armor with pauldrons, one with sergeant's stripes painted on it, and scale mail underneath. the Piece Maker (a siege weapon crossbow) is strapped to his back. second, standing at 7 foot 4 inches is Dorfl, a reddish Golem made out of patchwork clay, with a overall gingerbread man look, and glowing red eyes. he is only wearing a breastplate, and he has his sergeant's stripes painted on his arm. Third at 6 foot 6 inches is Carrot. He is a redheaded white human, with a sturdy build, round face, and a cheerful smile. he has a captains pip pin in the collar of his shirt and his armor is visibly shinier than all the other's. fourth at 6 foot 2 inches is Angua. she is a white human with lots of very light blonde hair and slightly pointed ears. Her armor has straps at the shoulder rather than being one piece, and she is wearing her badge on a collar. (end of first drawing)

Second drawing: first, standing at 6 ish feet is Reg Shoe. He is a green zombie with a hunched posture and several missing chunks and lines of stitching visible, most noticeably the right half of his mouth has no lips, exposing his teeth. he wearing a tattered and patched flow-y white shirt under his armor, which is also the strap style, and there is a red ribbon in his long-ish dirty blonde hair. second at 5 foot 9 inches is constable Visit. He is a brown skinned human, with slicked back 80's business guy hair and a slightly strained smile. He is wearing a very crisp white shirt under his armor as well as khaki pants and a Omnian turtle necklace. he is clutching a bundle of pamphlets. Third at 5 foot 6 inches is Colon. He is a white human with a heavy-set build, a mustache, and a large bald spot. his armor has sculpted muscles in it and he is wearing sandals. Fourth at barely 5 foot 4 inches is Vimes. He is a white human with messy greying brown hair, and a five o-clock shadow, he looks a bit like house era Hugh Laurie. along with his armor he is wearing a red cloak and a sword. (end of second drawing)

Third Drawing: First, standing at 4 foot nothing, is Nobby Nobbs. he is a white-ish human with vitiligo spots, several suspiciously red or green patches of skin, and very scruffy black hair and a five o-clock shadow. he is smoking a cigarette and has several dog ends behind his ear. he has managed to tarnish his armor. second, at 3 foot 4 inches is Cheery. She is a white dwarf with a stocky build, blonde hair and a blond, braided beard. she has some burns on her arms, ears, and forehead, and is missing her eyebrows. she has a full lentgh leather skirt rather than pants. third, at 7 inches is Buggy Swires. he is a brown skinned Gnome, with grey hair and pointed ears. he is not wearing armor, but instead a rain cloak. next to him is his pigeon, which carries his badge and is a foot tall. Finally, at 4 inches, is Wee Mad Arthur. he is a blue nac mac feegle with red hair. he is in a watch uniform with a kilt, and is carrying his badge like a shield on his back, unlike the others he has a dynamic aggressive stance, rather than standing straight up. (end of third picture)

background of all drawings: a lineup height marker background, with the initials AM (ankh) CW and the city seal in the top right corner. the city seal is two hippos on a shield, with a tower between them. they are in shades of copper or bronze, as is the overall color palate of the drawings. (end of ID)

#discworld #gnu terry pratchett #Samuel vimes #nobby nobbs #angua von uberwald #cheery littlebottom #carrot ironfoundersson #reg shoe #detritus #dorfl #visit the infidel with explanatory pamphlets #buggy swires #wee mad arthur #I think i went a little too hard making vimes look like hugh laurie but the idea wouldnt leave my mind #I went full squeaky clean evangelist for visit #and gay french revolutionary for reg #happiest with dorfl he looks exactly how i imagine #also next time ill give angua more hair i swear

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call-sign-shark · 10 months

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Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Six months after being released from prison and cleared of murder charges, you and Arthur are finally getting married. All you have to do now is hope for the wedding day to be spared from some Shelby chaos. Featuring John Shelby x Reader.

Words: 6k

TW: tooth-rotting fluff, light angst, allusions to smut, one ruined wedding cake, Tommy not being a dick for once, otherwise it's a well-deserved soft chapter to start this new act. Let's not break your heart too soon.

Notes:

✞ This chapter is the beginning of Act II of Heaven in Your Eyes. The timeline is S4.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The beating in your heart was so erratic, so fierce, that its constant drumming echoed in your skull and ears as painfully as if someone was smashing your brain with a hammer. You clenched your jaws at the painful bite of the rope the police officer behind you had placed around your neck. The way the noose compressed your windpipe, already giving you a foretaste of what was awaiting you, made the act of breathing laborious. Sucking on a sharp breath, your throat whistled like a dying bird. Down below I go, you thought while nervously playing with the wedding ring Arthur gifted you weeks ago. He had barely made his proposal when policemen snatched you from him and threw you both in jail. With your back straight and your crystal eyes glaring at the officers who were present in this slaughter room, you managed to keep your dignity. They might hang you, but they would not see you cry. In fact, if you went down they would have to watch you, so that your piercing irises would haunt them until, one day, Death would come for them too.

I love you Arthur.

I love you Dad and Mom.

I love you little sister.

I’m so sorry I’ve failed you.

Could you ever forgive me?

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your inner cheek as seconds flew, each bringing you closer to your inevitable end.

“WAIT!!! PLEASE WAIT! ”

A far cry in the distance. Were you dreaming? Or were demons already afraid of you down in Hell?

Officer Kat Wilson’s heart missed a beat when the familiar voice boomed in the warehouse, as loud as a foghorn. The blonde policewoman turned around, eyes filled with hope as she saw the silhouette of Sergeant Moss bathed in the blinding outside light that had rushed into the place when he had opened the warehouse’s heavy doors, “Do not kill her! We’ve just received a new order from the Crown: Heaven Lavey and Polly Gray are proven innocent of the crimes they had been accused of.” He said, forehead glistening with sweat. He had probably run as fast as possible to deliver the news quickly. Kat Wilson felt all of her muscles relax at such an unhoped-for plot twist.

“Take the noose off her neck now.” She ordered, trying his best to sound strict despite Moss standing right here, running out of breath.

Innocent? Take the noose? Sentences were melting in an intelligible treacle because of the emotional roller coaster you were undergoing, hence you only caught a few words. When your mind finally made sense of what was happening, a long sigh came out of your quivering lips. Then, the policeman behind you set your throat free. You blinked several times and looked at Officer Wilson, who replied to your confused gaze with a faint, supportive smile illuminating her usually oh-so-severe traits. Then, she proceeded to free you from the handcuffs that were sinking into the frail flesh of your wrists. As she did, Kat brought her lips near your ear and whispered so only you could hear, “Arthur’s safe. The warrant includes the Shelby family too. I’m sorry for the mess, doll. ”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced at the woman, trying not to let too many emotions show. Not that you wanted to play the tough girl, but you were so overwhelmed by your feelings that you were not even able to let out anything except confusion. It was all… Too much. “You knew they were going to release us.” You stated with a quiet but still slightly shaky voice as the revelation struck you.

“Let’s say I hoped they’d interrupt your death sentence in time.” Her soft yet hoarse voice replied, highlighted with a cunning little something.

Kat Wilson gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leading you outside the sinister warehouse, unwilling to provide you with further details. And somehow, you did not bother to ask. The only thing you wished for was to run away from this killing floor. Thus you walked bare feet on the gravel ground, the peaky sensation of the tiny stones against your flesh keeping you grounded to reality, andyou stopped in the middle of the yard. There, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, relishing the soft caress of the wind on your face. You breathed a sigh of relief, for the clouds above you had shifted from the sun, whose rays were warming up your frozen skin.

You were alive.

“Heaven!” A woman voice called you.

You reopened your eyes and looked around you, “Oh my God, Polly!” You suddenly exclaimed when you recognized her. Seeing Aunt Polly running to you and almost tackling you in a desperate hug was all it took for your emotions to finally flood you. Tears dawned at the corner of your eyes as you pulled her into a deeper embrace. Polly sobbed in your arms, her body quivering because of her cries.

“I saw them Heaven! I saw the spirits. Oh bloody hell, the spirits…”

“I know Pol,” You tried to comfort her the best you could, your grip tightening around the poor woman in the hope of helping her calm her panic attack. Still, you knew she was shaken to the core by her freshly canceled rendezvous with Mr. Death, “Everything’s fine,” You whispered, and let one of your hands lose itself in her short dark hair, “I hear them too.” You admitted. Polly gradually grew quieter in your arms, running out of tears. Nevertheless, you did not let her go. What you did, though, was to silently thank the policewoman with your gaze, your irises sparkling with genuine gratitude. No matter her role in all this mess, you knew Kat Wilson contributed to setting you free.

You were alive.

Alive, for sure, and indescribably furious.

1925 - Six Months Later

You had been absentmindedly looking at your reflection in the mirror for long minutes when someone knocked at the door and snatched you from your contemplative state. A growl escaped from your lips for you had let everyone know you did not want to be bothered— truth be told, you needed a bit of time alone with you to soothe your anxiety. However, the uninvited guest came in before you allowed him to do so.

“True gentlemen wait to be invited before entering a room, you know? Especially when a lady is in it. ” You said with a faint smirk on your plump and glossy lips as you recognized the guest by the sole fragrances of his cologne.

“A part of me hoped to see you undressed, that’s why I didn’t, little Angel.” The masculine voice answered, its tone filled with tease. You snorted at such a stupid answer, kinda expecting it, and rolled your eyes in amusement.

“Idiot.” You simply retorted, glancing at him through the mirror you were still facing.

“Idiot? That’s it? I’m used to better roast from ya, eh!” John exclaimed, surprised by your lack of wit. He wanted to tease you again you but your sudden silence kept him from doing so. Something was off. Worried, the young Shelby brother frowned a little bit and walked to you, not minding your desire of being alone. You jumped slightly at the sensation of his two large and warm hands squeezing your upper arms, “Oi, Angel.” He gently called, the tenderness in his voice wrapping you in a comforting haze, “Tell me what’s wrong please…”

For sure John Shelby had a soft spot for you since the day Arthur introduced you to the family. No one had ever doubted it. Without the slightest explanation nor apparent reasons, you both immediately grew fond of each other from the moment your eyes met. In truth, your relationship with the Shelby family had been quite tricky for months following the first meeting. Most of them didn’t want you to be a part of the clan, partly due to the witch rumors around you and Arthur’s obsessive love. It was only now, a solid year and one murder later, that everything had started to flow more smoothly with them. Even Esme, who had been terrified of you and would usually avoid you at all costs, had learned to live with your presence in the family. According to Polly, you had deserved your place among them more than any other women the boys brought home. The only threat to this harmony had been and still was Thomas Shelby himself. The mutual resentment you shared for each other was rooted in deep and far too complicated reasons, the most recent one was him selling you to the police for murder charges. However, you came to terms with the idea of maintaining a mutual hatred as long as he did not step between Arthur and you ever again.

So, apart from Tommy and Esme, you were now getting along with everyone. But with John… With John, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced, apart from Arthur. Whenever your man wasn’t there, John would do everything that was in his power to keep you company and bring a smile to your face. Not only he loved to visit you and spent his free time with you, but he truly cared for your well-being. Sometimes he would make a surprise visit to your house. In fact, he would stand there on your porch with the most adorable smile you had ever seen etched on his lips, a basket filled with food in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. When Arthur and you decided to leave Birmingham, your heart ached at the thought of moving away from John. Following your departure, rumors said John’s eternal smile had not be seen for weeks. However, once you had well adjusted to your new routine, even distance could not shake your unique bond: John never ceased to visit you when he could.

“What’s the matter, little angel?” He inquired, genuinely concerned by your silence and the melancholic gleam in your aquamarine eyes.

“I’m scared John. I’m fucking scared.” You finally admitted, closing your eyelids a few seconds to take a slow inhale. The weight in your chest had vanished from the moment words left your mouth. At such a surprising answer, the young gangster’s grip tightened on your arms and he gently forced you to turn around to face him. Still, you avoided his gaze, fearing judgment.

“It’s your wedding day, Heaven. What are you scared of?” He carefully asked, taking care not to make you think he was mocking or judging you.

“I’m scared because now I’ve got something to lose,” You fell silent for a tiny while, fighting again the desire to remain silent, but you knew you could open up to him, “I have a magnificent house in the forest cradled by the sweet chant of a peaceful stream. I have the loveliest man I could have dreamt of by my side, who loves me to the moon and back. God, I even got a dog!” Another brief pause you took to avoid crying, “And one day there will be one or two kids…” John listened to you carefully, still wondering what the problem was, “If I'm being honest, I’ve never thought I would be allowed to be this happy. At one point in my life, I got used to the idea of dying alone, hunted down by bad memories, and drown by guilt. But, look at me now. Look how far I’ve come… That’s why I’m scared of losing it all. Fuck, John — I’ll die without him.”

To your greatest surprise, the young gangster replied to your lament with soft chuckles, “Heaven. I don’t know what it is between Arthur and you, but I’ve never seen a love fiercer than the one you share. Bloody Hell, you’re so addicted to each other it’s even a bit scary sometimes, not gonna lie eh,” His fingers trapped your chin in one soft movement and, with indescribable tenderness, he raised your head so that he could observe each trait of your angelic face, “Having something to lose makes you cherish what you have even more. Plus it doesn’t mean you’re gonna lose it. “ The corner of his charming lips curled in a sweet smile, “Moreover, there’s more chance for Tommy to like you than for Arthur to leave your side. He’s not gonna let you go… To my greatest sadness.” John winked at you and, despite everything, his last flirty comment managed to make you laugh. Sometimes, you didn’t know how he always succeeded in cheering you up but still he did, “Listen, I knew you’d be a bit nervous for your wedding day, so I got you a little surprise.”

“A surprise?” You asked, curious, wiping away the tiny tears that had formed in the corner of your eyes while being careful not to ruin the stunning siren-eyes makeup Ada did. It would be a shame to have more mascara on your cheek than on your eyelashes the day of your wedding. John walked to the door and put his large hand on the knob, looking at you to maintain a small suspense “I know he’s not supposed to see you before the ceremony but he would not stop crying without you so…” He was about to open the door when he stopped mid-action, “Oh and I’m not talking about Arthur by the way. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s also doing that.”

“Fuck off, John boy.” You poked your tongue out, feeling cheerful and far less anxious thanks to him. He grinned in reply and finally opened the door.

“Oh! This is... So cuuuuute!” You almost squealed, for you were welcomed by the sight of Kaiser, the huge Cane Corso Arthur’s had brought home one night, sitting in front of the door with his mouth open in a big smile and with his drooling tongue hanging, “Come here big boy!” You called him, kneeling on the floor without minding your wedding dress now that your fur baby was here. Kaiser did not need to be asked twice: he walked to you and put his huge head between your frail hands to get his scratches, looking at you with so much love in his hazel eyes you could not resist smooching his wet snout “I can’t believe you’ve put a bow tie to my dog!” You laughed, “Look at this distinguished gentleman... He’s gonna steal all the women!” The massive beast barked loudly as to agree with you. You delicately wrapped your arms around his muscular frame to hug him, the sensation of his fur against your face erasing the last bits of anxiety left in you “Oh you’re the most handsome man of the whole family, baby Kaiser... Yes, you are. ”

His tail wagged. Of course, he was!

“Couldn’t participate in the wedding if he wasn’t all fancy, eh. I've also put a fake mustache on his snout but he ate it so I gave up on the idea,” He shrugged, “I thought it would make you laugh and help you relax.”

“Thank you, John! Thank you so much, you’re lovely I swear.” You said, looking at him with your gaze filled with genuine affection all the while cuddling with Kaiser, who seemed to be in paradise judging by his blissfully happy face.

“So — are you ready?” John finally asked.

“Yes, I am.” You replied, then stood up and took a quick look at your reflection in the mirror to fix your long white mane, which had been styled in wavy and adorned with a few diamonds from there and then, giving your hair an otherworldly shine. As you focused on your hairstyle, John rearranged your dress. At one point, he stopped what he was doing to look at you with a dreamy expression.

“You’re stunning, little angel. Fuckin’ bewitching.” He whispered before shaking his head, “Let’s find your man now, eh. Alright?” You nodded, the butterflies in your stomach flying at the sole mention of Arthur.

“I’m ready but before we go can I ask you a favor, John?”

“Anything.”

“You know, I’d have loved my family to be here. Mom would have been prolly crying during the whole wedding in Dad’s arms while my little sister would have thrown white petals at everyone’s face for fun…” You let out a charming but oh-so-sad chuckle “But no matter how fiercely I’ve prayed for it I know they won’t be there. So I’ve got two choices left: either I walk alone to my husband or I ask someone to accompany me.” You had barely finished your sentence when the celeste blue of your eyes dived into the sky blue of his, “I’d like you to escort me down the aisle, John.”

He remained silent, stricken by surprise at such a touching demand. He had not been expecting it. Words were at loss, however, they were not necessary for you to understand his answer: as the sun rays crossed through the windows and enlightened John’s face, you could see the precious shine of one sole crystal tear running down his cheek.

The powerful sound of the organ resonated in the whole church, the vibrations of its melody resounding in Arthur’s chest and making him tremble from within. He was standing in front of the altar with his manly hands interlocked in front of him. For the occasion, he had bought the most elegant and expensive tailored three-piece suit he had ever owned: he was dressed in all black, except for the white shirt he was wearing under. Moreover, Tommy had put some traditional white flowers in the pocket of his vest, while Polly had slipped an emerald pillar pendant around his neck and hid it under his shirt before he entered the church— a marriage blessing, from what he had understood from Polly’s emotional speech. The woman was so proud of her older nephew she could not help but already weep with joy. Arthur nervously glanced at his brother who was standing by his side, slightly in front of him at his best man’s place. Then, his steel-blue eyes shifted from Tommy and searched for his Aunt, who sat a bit further in the audience beside Ada and Finn. To be honest, Arthur’s anxiety kicked in. The more the second passed, the more the unpleasant impression his heart was about to burst from his chest was overwhelming. Nervously spinning one of his silver rings, he tried to control his nerves the best he could but it was harder than he thought: a part of him, admittedly irrational, was terrified by the possibility of you not showing up.

What if you’ve changed your mind? What if you’ve come to the conclusion you did not want him? What if your wedding did not work out, just like his first one? Maybe the problem hadn’t been Linda but him?

As was always the case when he was panicking, his self-whipping thoughts banged together in his skull like a hive of furious buzzing hornets. Nevertheless, Arthur knew, deep down, that you were soul mates and that there was no actual reason for you to flee. What really helped him to calm down though was taking a deep inhale and focusing on the hundred of candles’ flames that were illuminating the room with tiny dancing flames. A comforting wave of warmth almost immediately wrapped his heart as he did, for this church was the place in which you met for the very first time. He still clearly remembers the fire that had lit in his dying soul at the way your fingers grazed him when you had cleaned the blood off his face with a torn piece of your own dress. Not only had you purified his soiled skin, but then you had allowed him to put his head on your thighs and proceeded to pet his hair all the while lulling his demons to sleep with that enchanting voice of yours. From that night, Arthur made a promise to Almighty God, who had been kind enough to answer his prayers and sent him his most precious Angel. And that promise was that he would marry you in this same place to show God how well he would treat you and how happy you would be with him.

The organ roared louder in the church all of a sudden, causing him to refocus.

You were coming.

The gangster straightened his back, quickly slicked his hair back one last time to look perfect for you, and then stared at the church’s heavy wooden doors with both anxiety and anticipation in his eyes. His blood boiled with impatience, for you had been separated for too long because of the traditional “don’t see the bride before the ceremony” the Shelby women — and John — had insisted to establish. That being said, it had been torture for Arthur, who was aching so much from your absence that he felt almost as bad as when he went through rehab. Hands shaking, cold sweat running down his back, breath hitching, Arthur could definitely not live without you by his side. — you were the most exquisite drug ever created, against which even opium could not even compete.

The doors opened and panic rushed even more brutally into his being. At first, he thought he was about to die from a heart attack, but then, all these negative feelings vanished in dust when his piercing blue irises met your tantalizing silhouette. When you erupted from the almost supernatural light that was surrounding you, Arthur widened his eyes and stopped breathing. Here you were, your seductive body adorned with a graceful Greek goddess-inspired dress whose cut let the pale flesh of your back for the world to see while also forming a graceful and long wedding cape that was cascading down your shoulders. The whiteness of your outfit, equaling the wonderful snow-like color of your hair, was enhanced with gold jewels: armbands and a choker. One look at you was all it took for Arthur to feel the stinging of uncontrollable tears dawning in his eyes, for a tsunami of emotions had crashed in his soul at such a holy sight. As you walked to the altar at John’s arm, the wind blew in the church and made your cape dance behind you. For a few seconds, Arthur was convinced he saw wings in your back. Mighty feathery wings.

Divine. It was the only word that came into his mind when he watched you breaking the distance between you. And the more you approached, the more he was stunned by your ethereal beauty. So stunned he had to keep himself from falling on his knees at your feet, deeming himself unworthy of standing in front of such a pure seraph. Even Tommy, whose resentment for you was a secret to none, found himself in awe at your pulchritude. He, along with the groom, had to blink several times to make sure they were not dreaming.

Your glossy lips stretched in an enamored smile overflowing with emotions when you looked at your future husband: he was so charming in his suit that you fell in love with him for a second time. Your grip tightened around John’s arm for your heartbeat quickened until you finally rejoined Arthur. As soon as you reached him, the tall gangster took you by the hands — yours: small, delicate, and freezing. His: large, calloused, and burning. You dived into each other’s eyes, and the rest of the world disappeared.

“You’re so handsome.” You whispered, causing an adorable pink shade to blossom on your soon-to-be husband’s cheeks.

“C-Come on. Did ye see yer own reflection? Ye took me fookin breath away, Angel.” His hoarse replied.

“Arthur, we’re in a church.” You discreetly snorted.

“Oh Fook. I mean shi— Whatever.” He slightly stuttered. At this moment, it did not matter that he was a grown man in his mid-thirties: he felt like a flustered teenager in front of his first crush all over again. And to be true, so you were — to the point you both did not hear much of what the priest was saying, for you were far too hypnotized by each other’s presence as well as fighting hard against the urge of devouring each other’s lips. The only moment you both came back to your senses was when you had to pronounce your vows.

Then came the final moment.

Arthur Shelby, do you take Heaven Lavey to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?

I do. He answered with haste. You trapped your lower lip between your teeth, gathering all your strength to hold your emotions, but the crystal tears in your aquamarine eyes betrayed you.

Arthur Shelby, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

The caress of your fingers along with the cold sensation of the golden ring on his skin sent shivers down his spine. Observing you as you sealed your love by slipping the ring around his finger, Arthur’s smile grew a bit larger and made his teary eyes squint, digging adorable crowfeet at their corners.

You can kiss the bride.

The priest’s last words brought him back to life — that’s what he had been waiting for what seemed to be an eternity. Unable to wait any longer, the gangster brought one hand to your cheek and broke the excruciating distance between your lips until they crashed together under a thunder of applause. The feathery caress of his moustache on your skin mixed with the sensation of his eager mouth warmed you all over. Arthur deepened the kiss by parting his lips slightly so that his tongue could find its way to yours and give it a gentle stroke. But while hungry, the press of his mouth remained chaste. Carried away by his softness, you felt your body flickering in his arms, as fragile as the church’s candle flames.

You were his, he told it to himself. And he was yours. All yours until death tears you apart.

No, fuck that Reaper cunt he thought, even Death would not keep him apart from you.

The hundreds of candles and lanterns that were scattered through all Arrow House’s garden enlightened the night with their warm hue. Shortly before the wedding, the Shelby family suggested hosting the party in Tommy’s Mansion rather than in your place for practical matters. By celebrating your marriage in Arrow House, all the family and, by extension, friends, could reunite together without having to drive for miles. Moreover, the mansion was far bigger than your and Arthur’s house, which made the place far more convenient for partying. For the event, all of Arrow House and its gargantuan garden had been decorated with lights, candles of every kind, white drapes, and flower wreaths that gave the place a supernatural atmosphere. The cheerful cacophony of chatter and music hovered above the garden as the guests were indulging themselves with food, alcohol, and innocent fun. Even Officer Kat Wilson, who had been invited following her implication in your release from prison, spent the whole night partying with the Shelby family. Surprisingly enough, no one dared to disrupt the celebration with illegal activities. Just a few bets here and there. The only incident to declare had been the moment when Arthur, faithful to himself, almost smashed someone’s head in the wedding cake —he got angry when one of the guests looked at your cleavage—. However, if Arthur failed with ruining the cake it had not been Kaiser’s case, who ate half of it by himself.

“Where are Arthur and Heaven? Can’t believe the bride and the groom had disappeared!” Polly asked Tommy and Ada, visibly unhappy. The latter was a bit tipsy judging by the red shade of her cheeks and the glass of champagne in her perfectly manicured hand.

“Last time I’ve seen them they were dancing with flower crowns on their heads,” She hiccoughed, “I nearly died from laughing. Arthur. With a flower crown. It was so sweet and ridiculous!”

“That ain’t fun, Ada. I really need to find those stupid lovebirds. I swear I’m going bonkers: first Arthur’s tantrum, then Kaiser ruining the wedding cake, and now the newlyweds are late for the picture!” She complained. Overall, it had been Aunt Polly who made sure everything ran smoothly, hence her discontentment.

Tommy rolled his eyes at his sister’s inebriation, then he squeezed her shoulder with his large hand, “I think your question will find its answer really soon, Pol.” He stated with his quiet and deep voice as his turquoise eyes caught sight of your silhouette walking toward them, holding Arthur by the hand. You were both exchanging glances and light enamored laughters.

As surprising as it sounded, Thomas Shelby and you had managed to put your mutual hatred aside for the sake of the wedding. Of course, you were carefully avoiding each other the best you could, but when you were together in inevitable family moments, your exchanges remained polite.

Polly turned to you with her eyebrows furrowed and pressed her fists on her hips with an angry- mother expression when you and Arthur joined the small group.

“Ah! There you are! The photographer has been fuming for half an hour! Where have you been?” She scolded.

“We really need a map. This place is a fookin’ maze eh. We got lost.” Arthur tried to justify himself, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours, “I mean I wanted to show her the mansion but hey, I quite forgot which way to go and —“

“Arthur?” Polly cut him.

“Eh?”

“Your fly.” She simply stated. Holding much power, those two tiny words made Arthur almost jump. He let go of your hand in one vivid movement.

“OH FOOKIN HELL!” His gravel voice exclaimed when he looked down at his trousers. He quickly zipped the fly up under Ada’s hysterical laugh and Tommy’s mocking smirk. Admittedly, you could not help but giggle too for his reaction had been quite priceless. Oh Arthur, you thought. The only one who was not laughing was Polly, who looked at him with such a desperate face that you were sure she was about to facepalm herself. Or slap his face, it depended on her mood.

“Men and their cock, I swear. Look at you, idiot,” She said affectionately, “Your hair is all messed up! You’re going to look awful in your wedding pic!” She growled, grabbing her oldest nephew to rearrange both his hair and his tie.

“Don’t be mean Pol, he just needed to release the pressure.” You said, watching the scene with a faint smile on your juicy and glossy lips still swollen from Arthur’s lustful kisses, “The whole speech thing worried him.”

“Mmmpff— true.” He grunted, embarrassed.

“Yeah of course.” The beautiful Ada started before coming to you and smoothing the folds of your goddess dress with a teasing grin “What a long and difficult way to say you just wanted to give him a blowjob.” She teased.

“Piss off Ada.” You gently retorted, rolling your eyes in a fake outraged pout, “let’s take that picture before Polly strangle us all.”

“OI. Everyone fucking gather together for the picture! Bring the damn dog too!” Tommy yelled to the crowd, “John! Made them pose in front of the mansion!” Orders flew and Peaky Blinders were soon taking the crowd in charge to help the photographer take the most perfect picture he could take. When everyone was ready, he pushed the button of his camera and, in a blinding flash, captured the most beautiful moment of your whole life in a picture you would cherish like the apple of your eye.

“We… We really should … Like… At least try to get in bed.” You giggled, your cheeks still adorned with a pink blush. Admittedly, talking had become quite a challenge after the second bottle of wine.

“Not gonna lie, love, I can’t fookin’ get up for the life of me.” Arthur pulled you closer against his bare chest and slipped one hand into your messy long hair, not willing to move. The tenderness of his caresses made your whole body relax and you melted in the warmth of his freckled skin. To hell with the bed, you thought, the floor would do the trick.

When the party had come to an end, Arthur had carried you bridal-style to one of the mansion’s magnificent bedrooms, despite being completely drunk. The whole walk had been tedious with poor Arthur staggering in the stairway, but you could not have cared less — you were as wasted as he was and could not walk anymore. Maybe the alcohol contest with Kat and Uncle Charlie had not been such a great idea after all… Once you reached the bedroom, Arthur and you collapsed on the large fur rug that was on the wooden floor and clumsily took off each other’s clothes between heated kisses and steamy moans. He had impatiently waited for the wedding night, calling you “Mrs. Shelby” and “me lovely wife” all the way. That being said, a few intoxicated chuckles had embellished the symphony of your love when alcohol made one of you missed the other’s lips. No one could tell how many hours went by nor how many times you made love — Not even you. You were only coming back to your senses now that you were both snuggling naked on the floor, your legs entangled and your mind still clouded with your latest orgasm.

“I don’t want this wonderful day to end,” Arthur said, his gruff voice finally breaking the comfortable and peaceful silence that had settled in the room. A slow and long exhale escaped from your nostrils at his words before you laid lazy kisses on his chest. Your lips, still hungry for him despite your drowsiness, trailed up until they reached the golden cross pendant he was always wearing. A shiver ran down his spine when you took it between your full lips and looked up to his eyes through your Bambi lashes, “Fook — you make me so… Happy.”

“And I’ll do my best to keep you happy every day of your life.” You replied after a little while, setting the pendant free from your tantalizing mouth. “That was a pretty successful day.”

“It was, eh.” Arthur softly smiled at your words, his piercing blue eyes enjoying your mesmerizing beauty and his long fingers gently massaging your scalp, “We got a letter and a bouquet from Mrs. Solomons, y’know. She wanted to come but her husband’s back was hurting too much. ”

“Oh yes? Rosie is a sweetheart.”

“And her husband’s a cunt.” He growled, “Bloody bastard.”

“I know right? But she’s great. She’s been teaching me so many interesting things about feminism! Really made me want to attend her next meeting!”

“Women… You’re all going to overpower us one day.” Arthur said, his voice tinted with amusement. His free hand quickly grabbed the bottle of whisky that was next to him and took a mouthful of alcohol.

“It would not be a bad thing,” You pressed a kiss against his chin and he hummed in response, delighted by the way you showered him with tenderness. Arthur would have been purring under your touch if he had been able to do so. It just felt good — so good the whole world could have gone down in flames he wouldn’t mind as long as you kept pampering him like you were doing. You made him feel loved. You made him feel at peace… And God knows how much he needed that. “Especially for Michael. Have you seen his girlfriend Nora? She looked exhausted.”

“She just gave birth to her second child. Of course, she’s exhausted, love.” He said. His hand, which had been playing with your hair until then, slowly ran down your naked back.

“Hm.” That was all you replied, for you felt Michael’s girl was more than just physically exhausted. Something was definitely off in their relationship, but you did not want to mingle. “Their daughter is lovely, though.”

“She is.”

Another silence fell in the bedroom, only embellished by the relaxing cracking of the woods burning in the hearth. Both of you had closed your eyes, slowly drifting away into Morpheus’ kingdom.

“Angel?” He called you with a sleepy voice.

“Yes, Arthur?” You answered, dozing off.

“ I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

“You aren’t.” You smiled and let your fingers lazily graze his skin, your nails crossing through his chest hairs and ending their race on his heart, right where his tattoo was “I want it too Arthur. I want it too.”

Sleep made the last word of your sentence die on your lips. Now, the hullabaloo of the party was no more. All the remaining noises were the harmonious murmurs of your slow breathings and the lullaby sung by the fire, which had never been so comforting.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms

✞ Nora Gray belongs to @amidst-wonderland || Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms || Kat Wilson belongs to my sweet partner @callme-fox

✞ Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone even though it's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.

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dragonnarrative-writes · 1 month

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Forming The Pack - Part 2

Autumn Embers Master List

By the time Sergent Kyle “Gaz” Garrick joins the task force, John and Simon have semi-formalized their pack of two. It’s… unconventional, a pack of two alphas. Not the kind of pack John ever saw for himself, but then, he’d almost given up on having a pack of his own. There’s talk, of course. Soldiers always talk. But the talk is always a little quieter when it involves The Ghost. And quieter still when it comes to John Price and his task force.

Gaz is smart. He asks more questions than some sergeants, but he learns to trust John to make decisions. That trust must show, because Ghost is unbothered when Gaz challenges John in the field, even before he’s officially 141. Off the field, he’s easygoing and avoids getting into fights. Notably, he doesn’t blink when Simon shows John his neck after a debrief, six months in. It’s not until he says something that John remembers that having Simon at his feet isn’t something anyone else has seen.

“Never had more than a proximity pack since joining up,” he observes, perched on a chair in Price’s office. “Nice to see someone yield without having it beat out of them.”

From his position knelt on the floor, hands behind his back, Simon snorts. “Got plenty beat out of me.”

John gives him a little shake by a fist full of his short hair. “Not this, though.”

“No, sir.”

Reeling him in, John presses his nose against the lieutenant’s temple. Pulls him close so Simon’s own nose touches the side of his neck. The scent of trees and greenery and moss flows deep into his lungs and settles him. His second is here. Scraped up and a bit restless, but alive.

Across the room, Kyle makes a curious noise. “That a requirement to join the task force?”

John hums a bit into Simon’s scalp. “Task force isn’t pack.”

“Being on the task force a requirement for being pack?”

When he looks over, Gaz is alert but relaxed. The usual subtle spice of his scent is a bit more pronounced. He’s looking at Simon, taking in how pronounced the lieutenant’s shoulders are in this position, but his eyes settle on John’s face. Interested, but patient.

“Pack’s separate,” John answers. He taps Simon’s shoulder, and the man gets to his feet and rolls his neck. He gives John a significant look, tips his head toward Kyle. So John says, “Do you want to be pack, Kyle?”

“I’d appreciate your consideration, sir.”

“So polite,” Simon chuckles.

“C’mere,” John says, gesturing in front of himself.

Kyle doesn’t hesitate, stands near enough for John to touch and gives Simon his back easily. There isn’t a hint of anxiety in his scent; he’s trusted The Ghost at his six for multiple missions. He looks down at John in his seat with an easy smile.

John leans back in his chair and lets himself really look at him as a man, not a subordinate. He knew Kyle was attractive, objectively, the way he knew the sergeant’s almost cinnamon scent on his gear and the way his voice goes quiet as he’s lining up a shot. Now, he lets himself enjoy the pout of his lips, the breadth of his shoulders. When he holds a hand out for Kyle to offer his own, he admires manicured fingernails and faded scars on his knuckles.

“Get into a lot of fights?”

Simon makes an interested noise and sidles up behind Kyle to look over his shoulder. Kyle rocks back into him as he grins. “You know how it is. Gotta prove yourself, phase one. Especially if you’re not interested in proving anything.”

John gives an interested hum. He can smell the way Simon’s scent goes woodsy with arousal, what he presumes is Kyle’s spice responding. “Prefer alphas, then?”

“No preference, sir.”

Simon rumbles behind Kyle’s ear. “He likes when you call him sir.”

Kyle’s grin is smug. “I know.”

John can’t help but laugh. “What else do you know?”

The hand John isn’t holding comes up to smooth over Simon’s hair. He must telegraph something with the way he shifts his weight, because the two of them kneel in a smooth slide that leaves Kyle pressed up between Johns legs and Simon’s bulk.

“I know you keep your pack safe.”

Simon, the daft, romantic bastard, starts purring.

“No sex in my office,” John warns them both as Kyle leans to rest the side of his face on his thigh. When Kyle guides his hand to cup the side of his neck, he lets himself make a content rumble in his throat. “You’re gonna be a handful, aren’t you?”

“Only if you let me, sir.”

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #poly 141 #omegaverse #autumn embers verse #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captain john price #manic pixie dream ghost #price is right #gaz appreciation nation #💰💀🧢

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badbatchsprincess · 8 days

Text

Heated ~ pt.5

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

Warnings: Skinny dipping, Wolffe's massive D, some minor agression/violence, possessive behaviors, general Crosshair assholery, Hunter's an idiot

Bruh we finally gonna get through this slow burn I promise. Bear with me. Anyways...get intoit I guess

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"Again… or Lula gets it." Crosshair aimed his pistol at the stuffed bunny sitting on top of one of the crates.

Both you and Wrecker screamed, demanding Lula’s immediate liberation, but he just fired a warning shot, barely missing her ear.

"Alright!" You screamed under duress. You turned back to Hunter, who was waiting for you to strike. "Kriffing dictator," you mumbled, making Hunter snort.

"Lock in, Pip," Hunter rasped. "One pin and you can go eat lunch."

You huffed, knowing this was going to be a challenge. The past week had been tough on all of you. You had been enlisted in joining the other medics in caring for the injured regs, which, after the first few days, you realized the campaign in liberating Kashyyyk from separatist and Trandoshan occupation was going to take much longer than anyone had anticipated. The problem seemed to be worse than the Jedi Council had thought.

The boys had become relentless in your training. The second you’d be off shift, they’d be lording your food overhead in exchange for a few hours of combat training. You complied, desperate for something to fill your belly. You noticed you were starting to get stronger, your body was getting a little more hardened, and you were starting to actually like it, though you’d never tell them that, or else they’d just keep you at it until you collapsed.

Your little training sessions even started to get the attention of the 104th boys. They’d gather in small groups, trying to watch you like a sporting event. You were confused at first, but Tech informed you they were staring because they’ve never seen an omega fight before. It was unnatural, to Crosshair's point.

But even the grumpy sniper came around; he realized being with them, a special forces group, put you in a uniquely vulnerable position compared to an average medic. (It definitely wasn’t because Hunter beat him over the head with the idea until he agreed.) That's when he started threatening Lula’s life to coerce you into playing their games.

"Get him, omega!" A couple of Wolf Pack boys barked from the trees. You were pretty sure they were the same clones you had treated that morning.

You glared at them and then dropped your fists, looking to Hunter with soft eyes, begging him to stop. He relaxed, recognizing you were uncomfortable, deciding to end your training early. The 104th boys groaned disappointed, making Hunter shrug. Even Crosshair sighed annoyingly, lowering his blaster.

When you were in close enough proximity to your unsuspecting Sergeant, you quickly snaked your boot out, just like he showed you, and flipped him to the ground. You saw a brief moment of surprise when he hit the moss-covered floor before his eyes focused in. Just when you were about to jump on top of him to make the pin, he rolled both of you and shoved you off.

You briefly heard the Wolf Pack cheering when you recovered and swung your leg out, taking him down to the ground again. This time you were ready and rolled into his side, grabbing his arm, wrenching it back. He curled in, wrapping his legs around your torso, trying to pry you off. Just when he nearly had you in a pin, you jabbed your two fingers into a nerve point in his thigh, making him yelp and release you. That gave you just enough time to slam your body on top of him and hold him for the pin.

"Damn," Wolffe crossed his arms, walking up to the two of you from the clearing, impressed with what he was seeing.

"Good job," Hunter stood up, helping you with him. "You’re getting better, Pip."

"Can I go eat now?" You asked pleadingly, hearing your stomach growl.

He just nodded and let you go. You smiled and ran off with Wrecker, starving for Echo’s cooking.

Wolffe stood there watching you disappear back into the Marauder with his good eye. "Why are you training her?"

Hunter crossed his arms. "She’s been in some tough situations. She doesn’t have the same protections she would have with the 501st when working with us."

Wolffe nodded. "I heard about the incident on Crait. General Plo is concerned with the implications."

Hunter nodded solemnly. It was still a bit of a sore topic if he was being honest. He prided himself on being a good Sergeant who cared deeply for his unit and tried his best to keep them safe even in the most dangerous scenarios.

"Have you heard anything else?" Wolffe asked.

Hunter just shook his head. "Nothing beyond what we experienced. Though I’m sure the council has it under control."

Wolffe just nodded and turned to look at the war camp in the distance. Campfires billowed in the distance while his men gathered, making their meals.

"So…" He noticed Hunter side-eye him. "She yours or what?"

Hunter narrowed his glare. "Commander?" He felt his heart rate increase and a possessive tightness in his chest.

"Did you mate her on Crait?" Wolffe pressed.

Hunter faced him square on.

"Y/N is her own person," Hunter corrected, trying to keep his calm despite his growing hatred for the scarred alpha in front of him. "Besides almost killing her, no, no one has laid a hand on her."

Wolffe just rolled his eyes. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Sergeant. No alpha can resist that."

Hunter bit his tongue, wanting nothing more than to punch that smug look off of Wolffe’s face. Hunter was all too aware of how you made the regs turn their heads when you graced them with your presence. He knew his men were guilty of it as well. Y/N was a perfect omega. Every alpha's scents seemed to spike in your presence; he was shocked you couldn’t smell it. They were all praying you’d give them a little attention or a gentle touch. It was driving him crazy.

"Relax," Wolffe looked at Hunter's flexing fists. "I won’t do anything to your little medic… unless she asks." His smile was devilish. Hunter watched the Commander return back to his men, who were getting rowdy in the field up ahead.

Hunter took a deep breath, trying to force his racing heartbeat to calm. Crosshair came prowling up behind him silently like a loth-cat. "What was that all about?"

Hunter grunted and looked at his brother. "He asked if she was my mate."

Crosshair put a new toothpick up to his lips. "He’s been after her since Coruscant." Crosshair’s tone was nonchalant. "He’ll lose interest eventually."

Hunter shook his head annoyed; he doubted that. He returned back to the Marauder with Crosshair for their lunch before Wrecker elected to eat their portions too.

Hunter was going to be keeping an eye on Wolffe from here on out… that was final.

It was about the fifth week into the battle of Kashyyyk when you noticed the change. The boys seemed to have altered their behavior around you drastically.

At first, it seemed harmless, just alphas being alphas. They’d walk at least five paces behind you everywhere, even when you’d be called into a shift in the triage tent. They’d wait outside, talking, until it was time for you to clock out and return back with them for more training.

Then it turned into something… different.

It first started with Crosshair when he had decided he wanted to teach you how to start shooting more long-range. He had arranged you how he liked on the ground around firepuncher. When he wasn’t happy with your grip, he knelt down next to you, keeping his hands on yours a little longer than usual. Then came your positioning. He suddenly decided he didn’t like that either, so he kneeled down, using his own knees to part your legs and push your left into a more bent position. You felt your face heat up as your ass pressed against his firm thighs. He acted like nothing was amiss, but you were struggling more than usual trying to hit the target in front of you.

Then there was Tech. He had asked for a bit of assistance when fiddling with some panels under the ship’s console. You laid down next to him, helping hold some wires while he soldered carefully, and instead of asking you to pass him the needle-nose pliers, he just reached over you, pressing you into the ground with his weight. You struggled to breathe calmly as his face nearly pressed into your neck while he reached for the tools. He had done this a few more times, making you absolutely squirm next to him.

Wrecker had been a little more needy the past few weeks, asking you to look at small cuts and bruises. You think it was just because you had always babied him a little more than the others, but now he was becoming insistent that you look at every single injury and giving you a pout if you denied him. You were suspecting he was causing these little injuries just to get your attention.

Lastly was Hunter. While he was a bit more discreet, he definitely didn’t miss an opportunity to brush up against you or place a hand on your back as he passed by. One particular night you had been bent over the bathroom sink rinsing toothpaste from your mouth when he suddenly needed to shimmy by you to grab his razor from the shower caddy. You had shot up, and he apologized with a tap to your hip before leaving with his things. You just stood there in shock, trying to figure out if you were just imagining things.

This morning, Tech accompanied you when you had to clock in for rotations at the medic’s tent. You gave him a little wave before disappearing through the canvas curtains. You walked up to the 104th medic in charge and handed him your charge card. He punched you into the system and let you go on your way.

"Hey Y/N!" Your new friend, Tanan, called out to you. He was an omega in the GAR civilian medic program too and he has been stationed with the 104th since the beginning of their campaign.

"Hi Tanan." You smiled, setting down your canteen and snack sack.

"Got a lot coming in today," he said, looking around at all of the regs lying in cots. He flipped back his blonde hair, trying to tie it behind his head to keep it out of his brown eyes.

"What happened?" You noticed all of their field bandages.

"Shrapnel," he replied, sanitizing his laser suture.

"Bomb?" You looked around at the charring on their armor, letting you know it was some kind of incendiary.

"Most likely," he said, handing you a pair of gloves. You grabbed a pair of sterile tweezers and walked up to the first trooper who was sitting on the edge of his cot.

"Hello, trooper," you smiled and softly approached him.

He looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you the medic?" he asked.

You nodded and knelt down next to him, setting your things next to him on the cot.

"Mhmm. I’m Y/N."

"I’m CT- 3678, but my vod call me Tack."

"Nice to meet you, Tack." You reached out, tilting his face to the side. There was a tattoo running along the side of his neck all the way under the collar of his blacks.

"What happened?" You asked, picking up the tweezers and starting to pluck little shards of metal out of his cheek.

"Clankers set off a big one," he said, looking up at you, "never seen something like that before."

"It was guerrilla Trandoshan made," a clone behind Tack chimed in.

You just scrunched your nose disapprovingly and concentrated on your work. The alpha in front of you relaxed the more you plucked from him. You were certain it was uncomfortable. A lot of shrapnel patients have been coming in the past few days, but today seemed to be the worst. The metal was strange, shimmering green, nothing like you’d ever seen before.

"I don’t recognize your clothes," Tack said, looking at your green pants, "Are you GAR?"

"Oh yeah," you smiled, "My uniform got messed up a few weeks ago after the first wave so I had to resort to the civvies." The white GAR uniform didn’t stand a chance out here on the front lines. Instead, you opted for your darks and your identifying badge.

"Ahh," he said, nodding.

"I’m not usually out of base for this long so I wasn’t really prepared."

"You’re not with the 104th?" He asked. He must be a shiny.

"No." You tilted his head back and forth, looking for any missed pieces, "I’m with the 99’s."

"The 99’s?" The other clone asked from over Tack’s shoulder, "The commandos?"

You nodded. "Alright, I think I got it all. Let me get some bacta, and you’ll be cleared." You grabbed an applicator and began dotting it over the cuts.

"Wait, are you the omega Commander’s always talking about?"

"What?" You looked at the other clone, giving Tack a tap on the shoulder, letting him stand.

"Yeah, he’s always going on about the omega running with the 99’s!" He smiled, "Told us about the attack on Crait."

You paled. In the background, a clone trooper screamed in pain, making you focus back on your work.

"What’s your name?" You asked, moving on to him, grabbing your scanner.

"Grim."

"I’m Y/N, and yeah, I guess I’m that omega." You shook your head and started scanning the clone. You noticed the way he clutched his arm, and your scans confirmed it was dislocated.

"Sweet." He looked at you with playful eyes. You raised a brow at him, "You got something to say, trooper?"

He smiled, "Commander said you were pretty…"

You took his arm and looked him in the eyes before aggressively resetting the limb. He let out a pained gasp, not expecting you to do that so suddenly and mercilessly.

"He was right." He gritted out, clutching the arm.

"What’s your position?" You asked, walking over to the supply bin to get a fresh sling. You ripped open the plastic baggie and walked back over to him.

"Sniper," he groused, starting to feel the dull pain in his shoulder.

You laughed, "Oh, you’d like one of my alphas then…"

He quirked a brow, "One of?”

You felt your cheeks redden. "Sorry, they're pack. I meant, we have an enhanced sniper. His name is Crosshair. He hates everyone though... except firepuncher."

Grim chuckled. "Oh yes, my little lady is my favorite girl as well." He gestured to the rifle leaned up against his cot. You just smiled and sent him on his way.

What is it with snipers and their guns?

The day continued like this. Tech only came to bother you when Echo had lunch ready, but by the time the sun was setting, you were exhausted and covered in blood and various gross fluids. With a sigh, you cracked your back and stretched your arms, eager to eat some chow and get to bed, but first, you wanted to wash up.

The Marauder’s water supply had been recycled too many times to be considered usable, so your squad had resorted to hiking down to the river to wash up and do laundry. You had begged Tech to fly the Marauder closer to the lake to drain the reserves and refill with fresh water, but he didn’t want to waste any fuel before they could return to Coruscant. You pouted but knew he was right in the end.

"Ready?" Crosshair asked, meeting you outside the medic center.

You just nodded and followed after him as he walked you through the camp. You passed groups of men you’d "kind of" come to know over the past few weeks, along with Wookiee leaders and warriors. Once you passed through the camp, the hike back to the Marauder was mostly in the dark. All you could see was the campfire in the distance, with Echo tending to whatever meat Wrecker and Hunter had tracked down that day.

"I’m going to wash up first." You gestured to your ruined outfit. He just nodded and detoured to the fire while you rifled through your things, looking for the soap packets and a fresh pair of clothes.

"I’ll be back!" You called out to the boys before starting your trek through the darkening woods. Passing all the familiar trail markers, you could hear the river rushing up ahead. You grabbed your little solar lantern and flicked it on, setting it down on your favorite rock. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, you began stripping down to nothing, throwing your dirty clothes in the wash basket you had woven with Tech’s instruction on the second week on Kashyyyk.

You took a deep breath before toeing into the freezing cold water. You let out a little squeal as you sank in, fully submerging yourself in the lazy water. This was the moment where you always began to miss the heated showers on the Marauder. The water was chilling, it made your muscles start to lock up if you took too long.

Moving quickly, you reached up to the rock, grabbing a packet of hair wash and tearing open the brown paper, pouring the contents into your hand. You rubbed your hands together, causing the powder to rehydrate, and then you lathered it everywhere. Scrubbing your scalp aggressively, you were determined to get every little bit of sweat and blood out of your locks. Once satisfied, you sunk under the water, letting the current rinse out the suds.

When you resurfaced, you heard the telltale sound of someone approaching through the woods. You lowered yourself below the currents and silently huddled closer to the rock, feeling your heart start to race.

"Nah, Corporal said tomorrow we have a new mission objective—" One of the men said. You peeked around from your hiding spot to see a trooper chucking his shirt over his head and throwing it onto a rock, reaching down for his waistband.

You bit your lip and moved back around the rock, determined to finish up and get out without being seen. You reached up and turned off your lantern and grabbed your body detergent. You quickly got to work, taking your scrub brush to your nails, trying to get as much crusted blood out of them while the men bathed, unaware of your presence.

You heard them continue to talk about Corporal Comet as they stripped down and jumped into the water, yelling and making all types of noise.

It was time to scrub your dirtied clothes after giving them some time to soak. You reached around the rock, grabbing the loose weave basket and bringing it in front of you. In the process, you knocked over a round rock, hearing it plonk into the river.

"Hey! What was that?" One of the men said, and your heart jumped.

"Kriff," you whispered, throwing your unwashed clothes up onto the shore and crawled out, grabbing your towel. You quickly wrapped it around you and squatted down to finish your washing. You heard them coming and knew you had no other option but to just stay there and pretend like you didn’t hear them.

"Warthog, is that you?" You heard one of them yell.

"Tryna cop a peek?" They laughed from over the stones.

"You're a freak," one of them chastised.

You just tucked the towel a little tighter around yourself as one of them climbed around one rock, stopping in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" He immediately realized his mistake. "S-sorry…"

"What are you looking at, trooper?..."

Then you were met with one grey, scarred eye that made your throat instantly tighten up.

Up above, Wolffe and one of his troopers stared down at you in all their naked glory. You coughed and quickly shot your eyes upward, trying to avoid looking at their bodies. Clone standards apparently didn’t apply to the Commander. He was well-endowed, and you instantly felt your face redden at the realization.

Only the trooper had the humility to be self-conscious, covering himself and shrinking back down the rock and into the water. Meanwhile, the commander in front of you didn’t seem phased in the slightest; he carried himself with so much confidence standing there.

He let out a low whistle. "Sorry, mesh’la," he smirked. "Didn’t know you were over here."

"I’m just finishing up," you fidgeted, tightening your towel and praying for him to go back to his washing.

"No need to rush on our account," he flashed you a charming smile, showing off his white teeth as he folded his arms across his broad, muscular chest, puffing out slightly. He had a couple of scars littering his pecs along with a wolf tattoo on his ribs. He was clearly enjoying your mortification.

"I, uh... I…" You went to step back, but a loose rock wobbled under your bare foot, causing you to lose your balance. Wolffe reached forward to catch you, but when he grabbed your arm, you both went tumbling into the water. You screamed as you were totally submerged in the freezing water; all you heard was his disgruntled grunt before being swept under.

The undercurrents suddenly made it difficult to surface as you felt yourself being dragged downstream, ripping your towel from your body as you passed over bedrocks. You paddled weakly, but you weren’t a skilled swimmer, and the water was much stronger this far out.

You suddenly felt a warm arm wrap around your midsection, and the force of the water as Wolffe dragged you up to the surface, clutching you close to his front. You pawed wildly at the water, sputtering and coughing like a drowned tooka as he swam with the two of you.

"I got you," he said, finding his footing and lifting the two of you into the shallows again. "Relax!"

You went limp under his arm, letting him rescue the two of you. His broad hand wrapped securely around your rib cage, holding you firm against his large body as he trudged closer to shore. When he finally could keep the two of your heads above water, you tried wriggling free again, suddenly hyper-aware of your nakedness.

"Omega. Stop," he growled, trying to keep his grip. He leaned forward, grabbing onto a smooth rock and hauling you out of the path of the currents. You panted, trying to calm your racing heart. You weren’t sure if it was from the fear of drowning or the fact that Wolffe’s deliciously strong and warm naked body was pleasantly pressed against your back right now. You wanted to rub yourself further into him; your entire body was freezing except for the warmth radiating off of him, it was sinful.

"Wolffe," you cleared your throat, coughing up the last of the water.

He slowly let go of you, keeping you on the shallower side of the riverbank. You wrapped your arms around your chest, covering yourself before turning to face him. "Thanks," you sighed, shoving your soaked hair back out of your eyes and letting yourself catch your panicked breath.

"Any time, mesh’la," he said, fighting to catch his breath, letting his chest heave. "Your boys always keeping you out of trouble, huh?"

You laughed quietly, starting to shiver. "Pretty much."

"Come here," he said, offering you his hand. You hesitantly took it and let him pull you into him so he could warm you. Keeping one hand sturdy on the rock, he used the other to hold you close and warm your chilled skin. You shuddered, pressing further into his plush chest. His scent was delicious, spiced and salty. You couldn’t help but take a deep breath in, letting it dance along your scent receptors; your omega was thrilled.

"Can you swim?" he asked softly.

You shook your head. "I was born and raised on Coruscant. I’ve never swum before or even really seen so much water before." You remembered what Rex had told you about Tapoca City and how the entire civilization was surrounded by water. The clones probably had plenty of swimming experience.

"Cyra’ika, you gotta be more careful," he shook his head, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I know," you agreed. "I didn’t really anticipate this happening." You felt his rough hands rub slow circles into your back, and you sighed, finally starting to warm up again.

“I lost my towel,” you groaned, realizing you had absolutely nothing to dry yourself off with or keep you covered in any way.

“I’ll get you mine,” he said, standing up straight and looking over your shoulder. “Stay here.”

You nodded and sat down on the smooth rock, keeping your chest covered as he crawled out of the river and began walking back to where his men were.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head. Echo’s going to eat this up, you already knew.

Wolffe returned quickly, sporting a pair of black briefs when he handed you his towel. You took it from him, keeping your back turned as you wrapped yourself in it. It smelled like him, warmed spice, and you fought back a little purr bubbling up in your chest.

“Here,” he handed you his hand again. “Let’s get you back.”

To your pack. You hesitated, making him furrow his brow. You took his hand, but you knew this was going to cause a ruckus. He helped pull you up the slippery rock as you used the other hand to hold his towel closed, trying to keep a shred of your dignity together.

You could already hear the lecture Hunter was going to give you. Spending time alone with the Commander, nonetheless naked. Ugh. You should have told Wolffe to let you drown. But the view as the Commander’s tight ass was certainly was making it worth it. His back was rippled with muscles along with his sturdy thighs. You wanted to lean forward and sink your teeth into him. You had to take a deep breath before things got out of control and he noticed arousal scenting from you.

When Wolffe finally got you back to where you had left your things, you quickly realized, in your fall, the splash had soaked your clothes too.

“Kriff,” you bent down, holding up your little sleep t-shirt. The grey fabric was soaked through along with your fresh panties and sleep pants.

Wolffe just snickered and turned his back, letting you change in peace. Well, at least he’s honorable, you thought to yourself when you brought the soggy shirt over your head. You slid your panties up, cringing at the coldness, and then finally the sleep pants.

“This is awful,” you mumbled, picking up your other things. Wolffe laughed and left to get changed too, yelling something to his unit about returning to camp. They hollered at him when he returned to find you standing there with your wet laundry and dirty clothes in hand.

He took the lantern and let you lead the way through the now-dark forest. When you started to smell whatever food Echo had doctored up, your stomach growled, desperate for a hot meal.

“You should go,” you turned to take the solar lantern in your hands.

“Why?” he smirked. “Afraid your pack won’t approve?”

“I know they won’t,” you jested. “They’re protective.”

He gave an amused huff. “Well, thanks for the thrill, omega,” he smiled, turning on his heel back towards the river, giving you a good view of that ass.

“My name is Y/N!” you called after him.

“I know,” he winked at you.

You bit your lip, watching him fully disappear into the darkness before you trudged the last trail back to the Marauder. Your head was spinning. You thanked the maker you had your suppressor implant; without it, you knew you’d be acting like a pathetic horny teenager. Being rescued by a hot, rugged alpha had to be top-tier omega fantasy material. You giggled, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. You bit your lip thinking about how solid he felt against your back and wondered how solid other parts of him were too…

When you rounded the corner of the Marauder, you found your pack carrying on with their little evening tasks.

“Y/N, you’re back,” Tech acknowledged you before squinting his eyes, scrutinizing your attire. “Why are you wet?”

You looked down, realizing how pathetic you looked. “I, uh… I fell into the currents and almost drowned,” Wrecker spun around, looking at you in shock.

“Are you okay?” he asked, standing up and putting his dinner bowl down. Hunter looked at you from his bowl too. You thought it was strange he didn’t immediately ask as well. He looked almost… angry?

“Yeah, I’m just cold,” you set your things down and wrung out your hair, shivering.

Crosshair suddenly appeared from the darkness of the direction of the 104th war camp. You didn’t even notice him walk up on you.

One second you were standing next to the fire, and the next you were being thrown up against the side of the Marauder with Crosshair's arm being shoved across your chest with a rough thud. You yelped when your back connected with the hard durasteel.

“Crosshair!” Wrecker yelled in shock. “What the fuck?”

You looked at him wildly, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He gave you a nasty look. “I can smell him from their camp,” he snarled, pushing you a little harder with a deep, menacing growl.

You let out a pained whine as he pushed you harder against the ship. You desperately looked to Hunter to intervene, but he just sat there, fisting his spork.

Crosshair bared his teeth at you. “You fuck him, huh Y/N? That kriffing reg!”

Feeling yourself panic, your instincts took over, and you bared your neck to him in submission, praying it would appease him. “Alpha, please… it hurts.” Your voice was pathetic, but you’d never had any of your packmates ever corner you like this. It was terrifying.

He snapped down to you slightly, letting up on you just a little. The use of his designation seemed to soften him slightly.

Then in a flash, a blur of dark grey came from the left, and Crosshair was suddenly thrown from your chest. You collapsed down to your knees, clutching your damp chest, heaving. When you looked over to the right, you saw Wolffe and Crosshair throwing punches at one another in a flurry on the ground.

You let out a horrified scream that echoed throughout the forest, causing Hunter to wince.

“Get your fucking hands off of her,” Wolffe landed a particularly hard punch to Crosshair’s jaw. “She’s your pack!”

Crosshair returned his fist in kind to his solar plexus, making the Commander lunge forward and throw the sniper into the side of the ship just next to you. You cried out and ran towards Wrecker for safety while the two Alphas got into it. The big clone wrapped his arms around you protectively, keeping you out of the way of harm and swinging fists.

“Keep your fucking hands off her, reg!” Crosshair growled.

“What the hell is going on up here?” A few regs from the camp started making their way over, hearing the commotion. Hunter put his bowl down and walked over to the two fighting and grabbed Wolffe by the shirt, wrenching him up off of his brother.

You took a breath, thinking Hunter was going to break up the fight. Instead, you watched your Sergeant wind his fist back and throw a sharp punch to Wolffe’s cheek. It connected with a snap, and you were certain you saw blood.

Then it was madness. Wolffe’s men jumped into the fight, forcing Echo and Tech to run in as backup, their brothers. It was nothing but a whirlwind of fists and boots and raging alphas. The other regs and some Wookiees stood on the sides, yelling at the brawl.

“Stop, please!” You screamed and begged, feeling the tears slide down your cheeks. “Alpha, please!”

No one was listening. The fight only seemed to get more violent. You cried and turned back to Wrecker, refusing to watch the brutality. He just maneuvered you two out of the way and kept his hand on the back of your wet head, trying to console you, even though it was killing him he couldn’t leave to help his brothers.

“Alright, enough!” A booming voice shook the camp. Master Plo stood before the group, using a deep commanding voice and the force.

The fighting seized immediately. The regs froze in place, fists raised and bloody. Wolffe threw Crosshair off of him, and he walked over to you, raising your chin to make sure your alpha hadn’t hurt you ignoring Wrecker’s warning glare.

The general crossed his arms, looking at the absolute disaster his commander was directly involved in. Then he looked to you and extended an arm in your direction. “Are you alright, little Y/N? Are you hurt?” He used the same tone he had used with Ahsoka when they were together. Plo’s fatherly concern made you cry more.

You shook your head. “I’m alright, General,” the tears still poured down your face. Wrecker gave your back a little rub.

Plo nodded and looked back to the panting alphas.

“Back to your bunks,” he ordered, forcing all of the regs to leave, wiping the blood from their lips.

That left you with the general, Wrecker, and Wolffe.

Wolffe just looked at you, despite the blood dripping from his brow and chin. His eyes were searching for something.

“This ends now,” General Plo pointed down towards the ground with emphasis. “We have a war to focus on.”

“Yes, General,” they all replied, including your unit.

When Plo Koon turned on his heel and stalked back to camp, you felt Wolffe’s hand press up against your arm. “There’s always room for you with us,” he looked over his shoulder. “If you want.” He was giving you an out.

The alpha was making an official offer to adopt you into his pack. Your heart started beating fast the longer you gazed up into his eyes. It was a big offer. Clearly, Wolffe didn’t trust the others to play nice.

Crosshair had to put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder before the Sergeant started another fight. Seeing his hands on you was making him feral.

You just nodded and thanked him for saving you one last time before watching him follow his General through the dark grass. When you turned back to the others, your face turned into a snarl. You couldn’t even speak to them. You shoved Wrecker’s hands off of you and you marched up the stairs of the ship before locking yourself in your bunk.

~~~

You kept your back turned on Tech when he finally returned to the bunks. He was smart not to say anything, tasting your anger in the air. When you finally heard all of them settle in for the night and their grumbling hushed down, you got up to confirm your theory and stepped out into the galley. All of their doors were closed, and you walked down to Wrecker’s bunk, hitting the access panel to let the door slide open.

He lifted his head, staring at your form in the doorway.

“Pip?” he asked, squinting his eyes to see you in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“Can I stay with you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Uh, yeah. Sure!” He tried his best to shimmy over to give you what little room he could on his comically small bunk.

You lifted the blanket and slid in next to him, letting out an angry huff. He didn’t ask because he already knew what was wrong. He just let you maneuver however you wanted before you settled into his side. He clutched Lula to his chest and let out a big yawn before quickly falling into a deep sleep. You only wished you could fall asleep as easily as Wrecker; the giant snoozed peacefully while you lay awake.

You breathed in his comforting scent and stared at his door, knowing Hunter was just across the hall, probably nursing his wounds. Good, you thought. He should be hurting for letting Crosshair do what he did.

You were seething.

He let Crosshair manhandle you like a fucking animal without even intervening. He just sat there, looking pissed behind his stupid bowl of rations. He probably had heard you and Wolffe and that's why he didn’t step in… stupid territorial fuck head alphas.

Even Tech, sweet Tech, of all the brothers you thought would come to your aid… nope. He just sat there watching it unfold.

You’re giving Echo a hall pass because he was busy making the food and definitely didn’t have enough time to react before Wolffe stepped in. Plus, you knew you’d need someone to talk to.

You shivered, thinking about that murderous look in the commander’s eyes. He must have heard from the woods and came running to your aid. Twice in one night, the alpha came to your rescue.

Then he offered you a place in his pack… You rubbed your exhausted eyes, rolling over onto your back. Wrecker grumbled something in his sleep before reaching an arm over and wrapping it around your middle, snuggling you closer like you were Lula. You decided this was a problem for tomorrow, but right now you wanted to go to sleep. The day had finally caught up to you, and you felt yourself slipping.

You relaxed into Wrecker’s warmth and let sleep take you.

~~~

“It’s been a week,” Hunter grizzled, watching you leave for your morning shift. Echo was the only one you’d allow to accompany you on your little journeys into the growing war camp. Other than that, you haven’t even looked at your unit, letting them stew in your silence.

Tech shifted uncomfortably, “I believe she’s waiting for us to apologize.”

Crosshair grunted, “For what?”

“Well, you did force her to submit under your threatening behavior,” Tech looked to his little brother, “Most omegas don’t take too kindly to that.”

“What do you know about omegas?” Crosshair narrowed his eyes.

Tech just bristled and continued staring at the breakfast grains.

“She can’t keep this up much longer,” Hunter sighed.

“I hate it!” Wrecker sobbed, “You better say you're sorry!” Wrecker missed you. You hadn’t been talking to anyone, and that included him. He just watched you in silence when you came back to the ship to sleep and change your clothes. He tried so many times to bribe you into giving him attention, but you just smiled and nodded instead.

“She’s most likely going to take up Wolffe’s offer if either of you don’t say something,” Tech looked at Hunter, who just soured over his breakfast, “I’m seldomly wrong.”

“He can have her if she prefers those regs,” Crosshair snapped.

Wrecker just groaned and threw his head back dramatically.

“Fine,” Hunter stood up, “I’ll go and apologize. Hopefully, she’s willing to listen.”

“A little groveling may be beneficial,” Tech pushed his goggles up his nose, “and she usually enjoys being fed snacks. That may be a good bribe.”

Hunter brushed off his pants and began his walk into camp, “Thanks for the recommendation.” Hunter felt like ripping out his own nails might be more pleasurable than facing the brewing wrath of his tiny little medic.

Hunter was approaching the ridge when he heard a strange buzzing. Looking around, he didn’t see anything but instead grabbed his com, “Hey, does anyone else hear that?”

“Negative, Sarge,” Wrecker responded.

Hunter then looked to his left and noticed a formation of strange-looking LAAT/c ships approaching. They slowed on approach to the camp, and Hunter noticed that they were empty inside. Where were the infantry? He reached for his scopes to get a better look.

Then something unexpected happened. The gunships halted their advance, and Hunter noticed multiple battle droids appear inside the main cabins.

“Oh shit,” he started running towards the camp, “Battle droids on approach!” He yelled into the com, hoping anyone would hear him, “Commander Wolffe come in!”

Then the camp suddenly turned into madness. The battle droids pushed out red-looking torpedoes from the side openings, watching them plummet directly into the war camp below. With a massive explosion, plumes of crimson powder billowed over the entire camp like a fog. Hunter froze in place, staring in horror as the smoke began to spread rapidly among the 104th.

“Oh no,” Tech caught up to Hunter, coming to the same halt, “Is that-”

Hunter’s attention immediately went to the triage center, “Y/N…”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Dunndundun...

Next chapter gonna be a doozie... sryntsry the slow burn's turning into a wild fire next update.

Taglist: @substantial-exposure @rains-on-kamino @minimissmoo

#abo #crosshair #hunter #wrecker #tech #echo #badbatch #bad batch #omega #heat #smut #wookie #starwars #clonewars #wolffe

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little-diable · 1 year

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Addicted to You - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Somwhat inspired by the song and music video "Addicted to You" by Avicii, it fits just perfectly. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Tommy have shared a few intimate nights, he doesn't ask any questions and she doesn't speak much. At least till Sergeant Moss consults Tommy about a woman causing trouble in the Blinder's area.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, typical Peaky Blinders crime, somewhat of an open end

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (2k words)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

I don't know just how it happened, I let down my guard, swore I'd never fall in love again, but I fell hard

“You don’t know where she’s from? Are you out of your mind?” Polly’s voice echoed through the room, loud and clear like a shot ringing in one’s ears, and yet the woman was by far more dangerous than any bullet piercing one's skin, leaving behind scars that may eventually fade with time. It took a few moments before a reply was heard, spoken softer than Polly’s words, and yet the reply carried more meaning than one could have ever imagined when listening from afar.

“No, and I won’t ask. We need help around here, she fits right in. That’s all we need for now.” (Y/n) wished to see the expression tugging on Polly’s features, wondering how she’d react to Tommy’s reply, and yet all (y/n) could do was stare at the door leading to his office, no longer paying attention to her task at hand.

She had weasled her way into Tommy’s life weeks ago, finding shelter in the Garrison when the sky had opened up, making rain pour from the sky like blood being shed on the streets of Birmingham. How ironic that the place owned by the Peaky Blinders had appeared safer than the darkness lingering in the streets outside.

It had only taken the two of them a few days to find their way back to one another, still remembering the words they’ve shared, the intrigue that had burned in Tommy’s pupils and the smile that had tugged on (y/n)’s lips. He had fallen for her the second she had looked at him for the first time, like a siren luring him into the soaring waves of the cold ocean, forcing him to give into death’s call without asking for any help.

The two had shared a few nights with their limbs quivering, their hearts racing and their thoughts drowned out by the pleasure thumping through their veins. He hadn’t asked any questions and she hadn’t said much – besides the sweet nothings overcoming her painted lips like a song echoing through the Garrison. It had been easy, almost too easy, and yet Tommy Shelby had been desperate for this kind of distraction, something he could drown himself in for a few hours, not having to worry about the blood clinging to his hands and the list of sinners he’d eventually work on, taking lives like chess figures taken from a chessboard.

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking her. You men are all the same, thinking with your cocks rather than your brains. By now I’m no longer sure you’re even capable of forming a proper thought.” The door to his office fell open, exposing Polly’s frame storming out of the room. She didn’t spare (y/n) a glance, leaving the building with hurried steps as if God himself was calling her home. A home she had fled from decades ago, welcomed in the home down below with open arms.

Lost in your eyes, drowning in blue, out of control, what can I do?

His eyes met hers, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, wordlessly calling her into his office. No words were shared as he pulled her in for a kiss, not giving (y/n) the chance to ask any questions, to share the confessions lingering on the tips of their tongues. Both were more similar than one could guess, and yet Tommy was oblivious to the darkness of her soul, distracted by the features he’d see the second he closed his eyes, forced to think of her – like a parasite nestling inside his system, not letting him rest.

“Fuck, here?” Tommy didn’t reply, gave her a push to press her front against his table, forced to spread her legs for the man desperate to claim her. (Y/n) didn’t fight his rough touches, allowing Tommy to push into her without another warning spoken. He fucked her ruthlessly, making bruises form on her hips, pushed against the strong wood of his table with every ferocious thrust.

The sound of their bodies meeting reverberated through the office, echoing off the walls as if to taint Polly, proving his point to the woman that hadn’t listened to him. There was nothing to worry about, Tommy knew how to separate the good ones from the bad ones – at least that’s what he was convinced of, the one thing he could trust on, his gut.

Her walls clamped down around his cock, begging him to push her over the edge without speaking another word. He groaned for her, set on marking the woman he selfishly wanted to own, not daring to even think of sharing her with those staring for a few moments too long. Tommy Shelby had rarely felt this possessive, he wasn’t used to chasing people, wasn’t used to having to fight for somebody’s attention, and yet he was awfully aware of the possibility of (y/n) eventually leaving him before he could bind her to him.

“Cum, let go for me, love.” His raspy voice made goosebumps appear on her skin, eyes fluttering shut as her orgasm clashed through her. Tommy fucked her through her high, pulling out seconds before his release could rip him down the stream, leaving his stain on her bare behind. Both were heavily panting, giving into the silence that was once again lingering in his office, a silence Tommy was all too used to by now.

And yet, before either one of them could speak up, the sound of somebody calling Tommy’s name rang in their ears. But while he reached for a cigarette, patiently waiting for Sergeant Moss to find his way to the office, (y/n) froze, darting out of the office before Tommy could inhale another breath. His piercing eyes were focused on the spot where she had been standing moments ago, wondering where she had just disappeared to, without speaking another word.

“Please, come in.” Tommy watched the sergeant step into the office, eyes hooked onto Tommy’s as he stepped closer and shut the door. The man neared the table Tommy had fucked (y/n) against moments ago, mind still focused on her, the way she had moaned for him, making him feel like an ethereal being.

“We’re looking for somebody; somebody who may have tried to blend in with the ones cherishing the Garrison.” The sergeant watched the smoke leave Tommy’s nostrils, like a river of blood he’d leave behind after doing deals with those no sane man nor woman would even dare to speak of. “A woman,” the man kept describing the one they were looking for, a woman just like (y/n).

“We’ve been looking for her for a while, she keeps on making trouble, robbing places and stealing too many things. If you hear something, I’d appreciate you telling me.”

I couldn't live without you now, I know I'd go insane

It had been days since the day where Moss had found his way to Tommy, days where he hadn’t seen her face – only in his dreams. Ever since he had heard of the things a woman like her had done, Tommy had started paying more attention to the crimes he normally wouldn’t focus on, robberies he found himself bored by.

“It’s her, right?” Polly’s eyes were zoning in on Tommy’s emotionless features, scoffing at the man that barely spoke a word, too deep in thought. Arthur’s chuckles filled the office, forcing all eyes towards him.

“It’s almost ironic, isn’t it? She played with you, while you were oblivious to the things she’s doing. I doubt we’ll see her again.” With a sigh spilling from his lips, Tommy closed his eyes, sorting through his thoughts. He wouldn’t be able to rest, not until he spoke to her again, asking the questions keeping him awake for the past days.

Why hadn’t she put her trust in him? She knew of the things he was doing, knew of the blood clinging to his hands, why not share the crimes tainting her life?

“Tell me if you hear anything, I don’t think she’ll leave yet.” Something dripped from his voice, something neither Arthur nor Polly could decipher, not able to see through his facade. His heart clenched in his chest, forced to accept that he may never see her again, that he may never get to stare into the eyes he’d search from afar, telling secrets to the night only those willing to listen would pick up on.

I wouldn't last one night alone, baby, I couldn't stand the pain

The night was dark as Tommy and a few of his men made their way through the streets, eyes focused ahead, inhaling the smoke of their cigarettes. No words were spoken as they moved ahead, eyes set on the bank, hands placed on their revolvers. Light was illuminating the bank, the big windows gave a clear view of a few people crouching on the ground and a woman standing on a desk, holding a gun in her hand. A woman with the same hair as (y/n), a woman with the same height as (y/n), a woman with the same dark smirk as (y/n) once wore around him.

“Don’t kill her,” was the only thing Tommy said as they stepped into the bank, eyes finding hers before they could even try to focus on the crying men and women on the ground. It took Tommy a few moments to speak up, not trusting his voice just yet.

“Drop the gun, (y/n).” He spoke calmly, softer than ever before, at least with his men surrounding them. She tried to wordlessly communicate with him, hoping that he’ll guide her through this situation, clinging to the man she had lured into her trap weeks ago.

“I can’t, you’ll shoot me.” Tommy’s gaze wandered down to her hand, clinging to the bag filled with money. A sigh left him, not sparing his men and how they guided the other people into safety any attention. She grew nervous, gaze flickering to the door, wondering how long it would take the police to turn up. Time was running out, and her only hope was the reaper of Small Health.

“How much’s in the bag?” The amount rolled off her tongue without thinking twice, praying that he’ll make a deal with her – money for her freedom. “You know how I deal with those causing trouble in my area, don’t you?”

(Y/n) couldn’t reply, mouth dry as she watched him alight a new cigarette, “You lied to me, you played a game with me. A game you’re losing just now. How much is your freedom worth to you, (y/n)?”

“Everything.” And with a hum rumbling through Tommy, he reached out his hand, helping her down from the table. Their eyes didn’t break contact once, making a small smile tug on her lips as she followed him out into the night, exhaling the air she had been holding. Darkness engulfed them, wrapping her in a blanket of false comfort, mind hooked onto the past moments, how her life could have ended right there and then.

“You see,” Tommy wrapped an arm around her, mouth pressed against her ear. “Everything isn’t good enough, (y/n). Not in my game.”

And with the sound of a gun being cocked, she was forced to freeze in his grasp, cursing herself for being addicted to the man that had no mercy lingering in his system.

Lost in your eyes, drowning in blue Out of control, what can I do? I'm addicted to you

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine

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clownery-and-fuckery · 4 months

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I'm thinking of giving Moss and Toss a commando squad but I don't know what to do with them.

One of them is a shiny, I know that much- literally barely fresh from the training and tossed straight into the group, while the other three are well adjusted but LOVE their new little brother :(

Moss is the demolitions expert who deals mostly with front line heavy attacks- he's pretty happy-go-lucky but can, has, and WILL bite a sith(he has a big scar on his face from it) and is FIERCELY protective of his squad- tho tbh that's as far as his care goes- he doesn't like many outside of his squad

Toss is the leader/sergeant who kicks names and takes ass- he's much more compassionate than his twin- he's a kind, brave guy who's always down to fight for the Republic(he also does the paperwork for the others in exchange for credits) and he's honestly such a gentleman

The third and fourth though- aside from one of them being a shiny, I don't really know what to do with???? I'm thinking one of them should be a mechanical little fucker(maybe the shiny?) But idk I want them to be cutie pattoie guys :((( please help ugh I wanna love them

#im also going to kill them all #except for moss #just a warning #do NOT get attached to them #star wars #sw tcw #clone trooper toss #clone trooper moss #clone trooper ocs

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lxve-and-lxght · 4 days

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funny honey

pairing: thomas shelby/ reader

warnings: afab! reader, jazz, booze, murder, all that fun stuff. eventual smut perhaps?? slow burn?? mean! tommy.

a/n: hyperfixating on chicago and peaky blinders at the same time. also this is not proofread so i'm sorry for any mistakes.

pt. 1

the long night that followed your arrest at the garrison, could ONLY be described as tedious. inspector campbell was nothing but a ruffian with a badge. no better than tommy, but unlike tommy, inspector campbell really did have no fucking manners. you were a heathen whore in his eyes despite the fact you were a married, working, woman. wasn't that enough? of course it wasn't.

you'd spent the night being interrogated by campbell.

"i've already told you, i don't know," you said to the inspector and sergeant moss, a man who'd been on the peaky blinders payroll for quite some time now if you were remembering his face correctly. "i must've blacked out, i don't remember a thing."

"so you don't remember taking a bloody gun into the garrison tonight?" sergeant moss asked, an eyebrow quirked at you.

"i have no idea what you're talking about..." you were stonewalling them. what did it matter if your sister and bastard husband were dead? it's not like they had money or power, just a poor couple of suckers who'd gotten the kinder end of the deal in your opinion, truthfully you would have much rather been dead than stuck here listening to these fucks debate your innocence and whether or not you were as good in a bed as you were on stage.

after enough time had passed and campbell could say he at least tried to pull a confession out of you it was the wee hours of the morning and you were taken back to a cold, grey holding cell till the bus could take you to a women's jail, apparently only god knew how long that was going to take. so you lied on the hard, uneven, concrete and waited.

did you really have to shoot them? yes. when you found them together in the hotel bed that the money you earned paid for, you saw white. your sister was a dummy for thinking charlie was smart enough to avoid getting caught and charlie was just the same for assuming that of her.

all that time busting your ass, working as many shows as you could, travelling all throughout europe with them. how many times had they done it? how many times had he kissed you after he'd had your own fucking sister in his mouth? stupid son of bitch, you thought. how you ended up with such scum you'd never know.

"l/n! time to go." you sat up from the ground and saw sergeant moss standing with john shelby through the bars. your brow furrowed. moss opened the cell door and gestured you up.

"ya'd better move if you wanna make it to the garrison before tommy leaves." john said. you stood up and walked to him, he had a coat to cover up your show dress. "christ, you're freezing." your dress was covered in whatever dirty muck had been on the floor and your stockings were torn from the brawl that transpired at your arrest. " go on." john nodded.

you walked a couple feet away, peaking over your shoulder to watch moss and john share a sly handshake. john withdrew first and approached you, putting his arm over your shoulder. the two of you didn't speak till you were out of the jailhouse and settled into the motorcar.

"be honest, john, i'm fucked aren't i?" you said quietly, eyes darting to his.

"agh hell, don't ask me, y/n. i'm just the driver." he chuckled, blowing smoke out the window. "but we both know tommy prefers you to that bastard inspector. you make us money."

"great," you sighed, arms crossed in disdain. "now i owe the shelby's a debt."

"that you do, love." john laughed.

when the car finally stopped in front of the garrison john didn't waste anytime pushing you out to the curb.

"he's still in there." john called out as he pulled the car away. you bit down on your tongue in frustration and then stepped inside the pub. it was still so early, it must've only been harry and tommy in there.

you didn't even have to ask after him, the second you were passed the threshold, the private room's door opened and thomas stood waiting for you. he didn't say anything. just nodded his head, telling you to step inside.

"mr. shelby--"

"stop." tommy spoke finally, putting a hand up to silence you. "what'ddya say to him?"

"... nothing." you said, "i blacked out, i don't know what happened." thomas choked on his cigarette when he chuckled.

"and that's what you've told him? that you don't remember?" you nodded. a little blown away that he was laughing in your face about the situation.

"mr. shelby, i can't go back to him," you said firmly, talking about campbell, "he'll string me up or he'll make me a whore. i refuse to do either, so cut him up or cut me."

"ya want me to cut you?" he asked, taking a seat at the table.

"it's not about what i want, it's about what i don't want, and i don't want that pathetic excuse for an officer to have any say in my future."

"well sweetheart, you've managed to create a cluster fuck of problems for me in a matter of a night, i've already lost one of my showgirls because you seem to have a fuckin' temper and now i have to find someone to pin her and your husband's murders on."

"why?" you scoffed. "what good would that do you? or me for that matter? they already think i did it."

"that's cause you did do it." thomas said snidely, taking a sip of whiskey. "and i can't afford to have harry looking for new acts while i'm trying to conquer london. he needs to mind the pub and you need to mind the crowds of men that come here to gawk 'atcha."

you bit down on your tongue again.

"do we have an understanding?" he asked. you sat with it for second, thomas was offering to get you off the hook for damn near free, it was too good to be true.

"i'm not working for free." you countered.

"course you're not, you're working to dig yourself and me out of the hole you've put us in."

"three shows a week." you said. yeah beggars couldn't be choosers, but that didn't mean you had to starve and sleep on the streets especially because if there was one person who could get you the fuck out of this mess, it was thomas shelby. his eyes narrowed at your half-assed attempt to negotiate, like he was at least pretending to think it over.

"five shows a week, you get three hundred and i keep your bonny ass out of the jailhouse." he said finally. you sighed and sat down to shake his hand. tommy put his cigarette out and shook your hand. "you better get ready." he said. you nodded going to leave till he spoke again. "and i'd take a bath, love, you've got a show tonight and not even the soldiers will want to touch you smelling like that."

you scoffed. what a fucker.

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jedipoodoo · 2 years

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Secret Kingdoms Part Three (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: Animal cruelty, dragons (not lizards, they don't do that tongue thing), canon-typical violence.

Hunter held your hand, wrapped his arm around your waist, anything to know that you were close, that you hadn’t been taken from him again. Not that you were complaining. The stone was great for protection, but it didn’t do much to keep one warm. Hunter, however, was as warm as a wool blanket in winter, it was like walking around with a living torch.

You led the way, and Echo and Tech watched your back, just in case some of the guards hadn’t been lured away by Wrecker and Crosshair’s distraction.

“Someone’s coming,” Hunter hissed, dragging you into the shadows of an alcove. A lumbering form made its way down the hall with a hacking cough and the clanking of armor. You gasped, and grasped at Hunter’s tunic as Grievous barked orders at his men.

“You! Find Dooku and inform him of the intruders. And you three, protect the princess, we can’t let them be allowed to kidnap her!” Grievous coughed again and Hunter pulled you closer. Four of Grievous’s men ran down the adjacent hallway towards the Count’s rooms, while the others followed Grievous past your hiding spot.

“Breathe, milady,” Hunter whispered, taking your face in his hands. You hadn’t realized how badly you were shaking until his steady hands grasped you.

“You’re safe, I won’t let them hurt you, I promise,” He sealed his knightly oath with a kiss, and you took a deep breath.

“We have to keep moving,” Echo urged, not unkindly, “Cross and Wrecker are going to need our help pretty soon.”

You nodded, and took another deep breath to gather your wits, nodding to the servant’s door across the hall from where the four of you were hidden. If you hadn’t misjudged how far you’d come, that had to be the door where you’d heard the skittish servants run into Grievous earlier. You just had to follow the same path down to the dungeons, and Dooku’s mysterious beast.

Echo shivered in the darkness of the dungeon, and Tech gripped his shoulder to steady his brother. Your ankle twinged as you relived your humiliating fall, and Hunter pulled you closer to help you walk steadily. Silently, you led your rescuers into the sparse torchlight. As you drew closer to the inconspicuous door, the smell of brimstone and flames grew more potent.

Instead of the roar you’d heard earlier, there was a gentle crooning, like a song from the sad sonnets Queen Jobal was so fond of.

“I have never heard a creature make that sound before,” Tech mused aloud. He tested the doorknob, and it was unlocked.

Echo huffed, “You’d think Dooku’d be more cautious after he overthrew his king.” You nodded in agreement.

Though unlocked, the door did prove heavy, and Hunter helped Tech give it an extra shove as it swung inward.

Beyond the door didn’t look much like the rest of the castle. There were two torches on either side of the door, but after that, the hall opened up into a cavern, with murky water droplets dripping down the moss-covered stalactites and echoing through the chamber. Most of the water gathered into a small puddle in the center of the room, just a meter or two from the feet of a giant, red dragon.

“Maker…” Echo breathed. Tech grabbed a torch and brought it closer to get a better look.

The dragon whimpered and turned its head away from the light. There were several brown gashes along the neck and back from what you could see, and your heart clenched.

“Dooku’s been torturing it, starving it,” You whispered in pity.

“If she were starving she would have attempted to eat us already,” Tech dismissed.

“Tech, the light,” Hunter nodded to the torch in his hand.

Tech glanced at the fire curiously, then backed away with the torch. As the light pulled away, the dragon perked up, looking at you with narrowed pupils.

“She knows if we get close enough, we’ll hurt her,” Echo growled, “Or at least Dooku would.”

“Why won’t she fight back, then?” Tech asked.

Hunter pointed to a large black chain in the corner of the cavern. It wound around the dragon’s neck and through the manacles on each of her legs, all of which squeezed tightly enough to leave little white indents in the dragon’s skin. Several of her black claws were broken and brittle from trying to escape.

“We can’t leave her here,” You insisted.

“Milady, it’s a wild creature, we can’t control it,” Hunter said sympathetically.

“The best thing to do for it is to put it out of its misery,” Tech sighed, though he sounded fairly reluctant.

You refused to let that happen. You slipped from Hunter’s grasp and readjusted your hold on his dagger.

“Milady-!”

“Wait,” Echo jumped in front of Hunter to keep from startling the dragon as you approached.

She watched you carefully with golden eyes. Her scales were darker, almost brown, around her eyes and nostrils. You met her eyes, but she made no movement as you made your way to where the chain was fastened to the floor. The lock was almost as large as the dragon’s foot, and made of iron from the mountains surrounding Serenno. The size of the key to unlock it must have been as big as Hunter’s sword, if not bigger, but it was the perfect size for you to slip your hand inside, and use Hunter’s dagger to trip the locking mechanism.

The chain rattled as it loosened around the Dragon’s neck. She shook her head, and it fell to the floor. Hunter and his brothers quickly backed away as she rose to her feet , the chain slipping uselessly though the manacles. You grinned in delight.

The dragon stretched her legs in the expansive cavern, testing her weight on the wall. A few rock formations crumbled to dust beneath her feet, and you quickly dodged her footsteps as she stretched out her neck, reaching towards the top of the cave.

She looked back down at you, her eyes softening as she studied the strange being in front of her.

You could see Hunter reaching for you out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to startle her, but not willing to let you be sacrificed after all he’d risked to save you.

Hopefully, you stretched out your hand, as she leaned towards you, hoping foolishly that you might be able to be one of those fortunate humans who got to pet a dragon once in their meager existence, when an arrow landed in her shoulder.

Your new friend howled in rage, and the four of you spun towards the door, only to see Dooku reloading his crossbow.

“Seize the princess!” He snarled to his men. Hunter launched himself at Dooku, and the dragon stretched forward, shielding you with her body as she snarled. You wondered if she recognized Dooku, surely she did. How many other soldiers did she recognize? How many had been allowed to strike her without fear of repercussion?

No longer. The brimstone in her breath ignited, and ten of Dooku’s men went up in flames, screaming as they were baked alive in their armor.

“Hunter!” You cried, beckoning Tech and Echo towards you. They dodged your new friend’s feet as they joined you beneath the dragon’s wings, but Hunter had forced Dooku to abandon his crossbow in favor of his gold-hilted sword. Hunter wasn’t one for witty banter during a fight, but you could hear his shouts of rage as his sword clashed against Dooku’s.

The dragon swung her tail, sending more rocks tumbling to the floor of the cavern, and you could see her wings beginning to unfold. This cavern was much too small for her.

As the last of the flames flickered off the armor of the roasted knights, you noticed something in the roof of the cavern.

A door.

“Tech, Echo, get on her back!”

“Are you insane!?” Echo asked.

“As much as I have dreamt of one day riding a dragon, I do believe our friend here might be adverse to such an idea.”

Even as Tech protested, you jumped and grabbed one of the scales in the dragon’s neck, your legs windmilling as you tried to climb up on her back. She hardly noticed as she tried to fight off the rest of Dooku’s knights, batting their swords away with her powerful legs. Tech gave you a boost, and you pulled yourself up, holding onto one of her spines to steady yourself. Leaning down, you helped Echo and then Tech climb up, out of reach of the knights.

With one final swing of the dragon’s tail, the last of Serenno’s knights crashed against the wall, leaving Hunter and Dooku battling it out.

“Hunter!” You screamed his name, and Hunter looked to you. In his momentary hesitation, Dooku hit him in the back of his head. You shrieked, but Tech gripped your arm tightly, preventing you from leaping to his aid.

“I see now,” Dooku grinned, and his dark eyes seemed to stare through your soul. He kicked Hunter onto his back, holding him with his foot on Hunter’s shoulder and the tip of his sword just barely against Hunter’s throat.

“You love her, don’t you?” Dooku crooned, “This scullery maid? This pathetic excuse of a princess?”

“‘Bout time you figured it out,” You spat.

The dragon paced the walls of the cavern, wary of getting any closer to the would-be King. But you had to help Hunter somehow. You knew he was alive from the way Dooku regarded him cautiously, like a snake about to strike, even though he was trapped. He must have known about Hunter and his brothers, despite the covert nature of their assignments.

Dooku leaned in closer to Hunter, putting slightly more pressure on his sword. You could hear Hunter grunt softly, but he refused to give Dooku any satisfaction.

“Tell me, sir knight, what’s so special about a peasant nobody that you’d risk not only your life, but the lives of your brothers for a nobody that was even abandoned by her mistress?”

Shame bubbled in your throat. Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair were all going to end up dead all because of you if you didn’t think of something, and even with the dragon on your side, the rest of you could end up dead as well.

“Because she’s worth more than all the kingdoms of the earth,” Hunter spat on the hem of Dooku’s cloak. He tried to dodge and protect his precious robes, but that gave Hunter the opening he needed to slip out from under Dooku. He sprinted towards the dragon, only pausing to grab his sword.

“Get him!” You urged the dragon, pointing at Dooku, who stumbled back to regain his balance.

Hunter ducked down to dodge the first blast of fire, but so did Dooku, and he took after Hunter with inhuman speed.

Echo leaned down as far as he could to reach for Hunter’s outstretched hand, but Dooku caught up and Hunter had to block. The dragon couldn’t reach Dooku with her fire breath as they dueled between her legs, and she stumbled back to try and find them. Sparks flew as the steel collided.

Somehow, in the fight, Dooku’s spikey, towering crown had managed to stay on his head. But not for long. You held onto Tech’s belt and leaned down, snatching the stolen prize off his head.

Dooku was distracted now, reaching for his crown in earnest, and forgot to dodge as Hunter swung his sword at his head.

Your face paled, and Dooku’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Hunter stared at the blood on his sword, unable to believe that had just happened.

Tech yanked you back up onto the dragon, and barked shrilly at his brother.

“Hurry, before more guards arrive!”

Hunter nodded, and firmly grasped Tech’s hand to climb up on the dragon’s back. You could hear shouting out in the dungeon. Without any more distractions, the dragon spread her wings and roared. With a great bound, she began to climb the wall, digging her claws into the stone.

You held on for dear life, and you could feel one of Hunter’s arms around your waist. How the four of you managed to keep from falling, you weren’t really sure, but at the apex of the cavern, the dragon based her head through the wooden door, and moonlight spilled over all of you as you promptly arrived in the courtyard.

Several of Dooku’s guards were attempting to pin Wrecker to the ground as he tried to push Grievous back, but they were slowly being picked off by Crosshair.

“Woah!” Wrecker made his appreciation known as the dragon climbed out, carrying the four of you on her back.

“What’d you get yourselves into this time?” Crosshair snapped, shooting another arrow at the guards sneaking up on Wrecker.

“Stop them!” Grievous screamed. The soldiers fled in terror as the dragon shot a ball of fire at the castle drawbridge. She knocked Grievous aside with her tail, and Wrecker climbed up on her back.

“What’s ‘er name?” He asked.

“We don’t know!” Echo shouted above the terrified screams of the guards and the servants inside the castle. You felt sorry for them, but if Dooku was dead, they had a chance of freedom. That was the most you could do for them at this time.

The dragon began to stretch her wings, and you could feel her muscles flexing.

“Cross, jump!” Hunter held out his arm to his brother. Crosshair leaped down from the wall, landing just behind Hunter.

“Can she fly with all of us?” He asked doubtfully. The warning bell tolled on, but none of the guards were going to respond.

“She will, she will,” You whispered.

The first flap of wings was to stretch her muscles, sending a gust of wind through the courtyard. You ducked your head, closing your eyes to keep the dust out. The second flap, she stretched her wings toward the sky, and leaned back, looking up to the beautiful full moon above.

“Hang on!” Tech clung to the brothers he could reach, and you gripped the spine in front of you. You felt Hunter’s hand cover yours as he wrapped his arm around your waist. All of you held on tightly, and the dragon launched herself into the air, leaving your stomachs on the ground below.

The first thing you could hear, after you got used to the rushing of the wind in your ears, was Wrecker whooping for joy.

“We’re flyin’, boys!” He cheered.

“Just don’t look down,” Crosshair said. Of course, Wrecker looked, you could hear his whimper a second later.

“Are we all still here?” Echo asked.

“We are all accounted for,” Tech confirmed. You could feel Hunter, pressed up against your back.

“Are you alright, milady?” He whispered.

You nodded, keeping your eyes squeezed shut tightly. If you looked, you were sure you’d fall and discover this was all a dream.

Hunter squeezed you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“You’re safe, milady. We made it.”

Hunter’s voice was so hopeful, so earnest, you couldn’t help but believe him. You opened one eye. A cloud shot past.

You gasped, and opened both eyes. The dragon was firm and solid beneath you, as was Hunter at your back. Her wings were big and strong, keeping you airborne. You looked down, and you could see the mountains of Serenno beneath you. The capital was long gone, but you could almost make out the ravine where you lost Padme.

“The princess,” You gasped, “Is she-”

“She’s safe too,” Hunter promised, “Anakin took her back to the camp.”

You nodded, leaning back against his chest, “I suppose we need to find our way back to the Naboo camp too, you’ll have to report back to Duke Kenobi, and even if Dooku’s dead, his men might still attack.”

Hunter hummed, “I wonder how they’ll fare against a red dragon.”

Your laughter carried through the air, and a few woodsmen just might be wondering what fae was so entertained on a night like tonight.

—

Your giant friend grew tired as the sun was rising, and made a quick landing at a river Tech said you could follow back to the Duke’s camp.

“Thanks, Lula,” Wrecker said as he slid off her back.

“Lula?” Echo asked.

“Yeah, none of you named her, so I did!”

Lula crooned at you, so perhaps she didn’t mind the name. You raised your hand to her again, and this time Hunter stood staunchly at your side as Lula pressed her warm snout against your bare hand. You took Hunter’s hand, even though he wore his gloves, and made him press his hand against her nose too. A puff of smoke surrounded you in the fresh scent of brimstone, and Crosshair laughed while Hunter coughed.

“Thank you, Lula,” You told her, taking a step back.

Lula made a curious noise as you and Hunter started to follow after his brothers. You smiled back at her.

“I have to go now, maybe we’ll meet again someday.” You waved. Lula watched you, her golden eyes round and curious. She didn’t quite understand human concepts, you knew, but she was hungry, and the army needed your help. She deserved a peaceful life of freedom after everything Dooku had done to her. You grasped Hunter’s hand as you walked, wondering what kind of life you could create.

As the six of you walked along the riverbank with a skip in your step, your ankle hit a rock, and you remembered how much pain you had been in.

“Are you alright?” Hunter fell to his knees beside you.

You took a sharp breath in through your teeth, “I just need to rest it, I’ll be fine.”

You tried to pull yourself up to sit on that same rock, but Hunter swept you off of your feet instead, now carrying you in his arms.

“Hunter!” Your voice squeaked as you threw your arms around his neck. You could hear Echo and Crosshair chuckling, and you buried your face in his shoulder.

“Hunter, you don’t have to carry me, I’m fine-”

“Milady, you’ve broken your ankle. What kind of knight would I be if I allowed you to walk on your own?” He picked up his pace to walk with his brothers, holding you firmly. He even refused when Wrecker offered to carry you.

You didn’t really mind, though. His pace was steady, and his chest was warm.

“Go ahead and rest,” Hunter whispered, as if he could read your mind, “You’re safe now.”

Lady Luck (Prequel)

#lizart writes #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch hunter x reader #medieval au #fantasy au

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