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solar-wing · 1 month

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⚣ Jealousy Is A Disease 🟢

⚣🟢 Summary → Y/N's knows he's got a little heat brewing between him and Superman, but something is going to get in the way of that. He should've known better than to have entered into any sort of arrangement with Hal Jordan. Not only was the man super cocky and sarcastic, but he was literally green with envy.

⚣🟢 Words → 3.7K

REBLOGS & replies are appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🟢

The Watchtower had been relatively quiet.

Y/N had been talking with Clark about some matters related to supervillains' plots, potential recruits, and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo that he wasn't really paying attention to because he was too busy eyeing the Kryptonian's body. The Omega knew his heat was getting close and that he would probably have to take some time off soon to deal with it.

But, it didn't stop him from imagining Clark's large and muscled body over his while they rutted against each other all sweaty and hot and-

"Y/N? You ok there?" Clark's voice interrupted his thoughts, the Omega blushing when he saw the look on the man's face. He had noticed his staring and it had probably led him to realize the nature of his thoughts.

The Kryptonian had a knowing smirk on his face, though. He'd been more or less aware of the Omega's attraction towards him, and it definitely wasn't one-sided. Clark may not have been an Alpha by nature of his Kryptonian biology, but it didn't mean he didn't consider himself to be one in many aspects. He certainly had the physique of one, and he did have a few...kinks that came with the territory.

"I-I'm sorry, I got a little distracted." Y/N chuckled nervously, feeling his cheeks heating up. He didn't know how the Kryptonian would react to his blatant display of lust, but he didn't think it would be bad. Clark was always so nice to him and he had a good sense of humor. Plus, the Omega really wanted to know what was under those suits.

"Don't worry about it. You know I get distracted too sometimes." The Kryptonian smiled, his eyes lingering on Y/N's flushed face before traveling down the length of his body. The Omega suit was one for the books, the tight-fitting material leaving nothing to the imagination. Y/N looked damn good, and he knew it.

"So, uh, what were we talking about again?" Y/N asked, clearing his throat.

While the two continued their little flirtatious and flustered dialogue, neither of them was aware of the presence watching them through the door, his eyes under his green mask narrowing in anger and jealousy.

Later that night, Y/N was getting ready to head home. His heat was coming closer and closer, and he knew he had to spend his next few days in his apartment and away from everyone.

As the Omega neared the Zeta Gateway that would take him back to the Hall of Justice, his arm was suddenly snatched and he was pulled into an empty room. Y/N was ready to fight whoever it was, but a familiar scent invaded his senses.

"Hey there, sexy. Missed me?" Green Lantern smirked as he looked down at the Omega's shocked face.

"Hal! What the hell are you doing?" Y/N whispered. "Someone might see us!"

"I was just thinking that maybe we could have a little fun before you go home. It's not like anyone's gonna come here at this hour." Hal said as he moved closer to Y/N, backing him toward the wall.

"I have to go. My heat's coming up." The Omega said, stopping him before he could make any more moves.

"You always say that. And then we end up fucking anyway."

"Not this time. I need to rest. It's going to be a very intense one." Y/N tried to reason, but the Alpha wasn't having it.

"C'mon, baby. Just one more time." Hal whispered in his ear, his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "Let me have a taste."

The Alpha leaned forward and began kissing and biting Y/N's neck, his hands moving to grip his waist. The Omega could feel his arousal getting excited at the stimulation, but he had to stay strong. He knew his body would crave an Alpha's touch during his heat, and there was a certain blue and red-wearing superhero that he was more interested in.

"H-Hal, no! Stop!" Y/N said, pushing him away. "No more of this. I'm not gonna let you fuck me anymore, understand?"

"What the hell's gotten into you?" The Alpha growled. "You're always begging for it, and now you're pushing me away?"

"Yeah, well, things change." Y/N sighed, moving to leave the room. "Just stay away from me."

"Who is it, huh?" Hal asked, blocking his way.

"It's not like that," Y/N said, knowing full well he was lying through his teeth, "It's just that I think we should keep things strictly professional from now on."

"Bullshit. You weren't concerned about keeping things professional all the times I fingered you during meetings. Or all the times you sucked me off in the training room."

"Hal, I–"

"Did you care about professionalism when I fucked your tight little cunt while Batman was right outside that door? Or when you rode my dick in the showers? Huh?" Hal said, his voice raising a bit.

"Quit it, Hal. You're being rid–"

"Or all the close calls we had when I knotted you without a condom, and you thought you were gonna get pregnant? I bet you were hoping for it, weren't you?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Y/N shouted, his patience running thin. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Jordan. Now, move."

"Oh, now you're giving me orders? Is that how it is?" Hal growled, his own Alpha pheromones responding.

"Will you please shut the fuck up?!" Y/N growled, his scent turning sour. He couldn't believe the nerve of this man!

"No, you shut the fuck up! You're acting like a whore who's too good for me." Hal growled, his scent becoming heavier with the stench of anger.

"A whore, huh? I'm a whore for letting you fuck me whenever you wanted, and now I'm a whore for wanting to stop the fuck-fest, is that it? You're the one who wanted this, remember? You're the one who was all up on me in the first place, so don't play the victim."

"You're such a fucking tease. You act like a slut and then you expect me to leave you alone?"

"Yeah, and I'm also an Omega who could easily have an Alpha whenever I want. Don't forget that."

Hal clearly didn't like the mention of that. He was an Alpha, Air Force pilot and a Green Lantern. He wasn't supposed to be a side dish.

"I'm not someone you can fuck whenever you're bored, Y/N." The Alpha growled, his scent spiking.

"Well, guess what, Jordan, I'm not your toy either. We both had our fun, but I'm done with this. I don't want you anymore, and I certainly don't need you. So, move."

Before Y/N could move an inch, Hal lunged at him, tackling him to the conference table in the middle of the room. The two of them started wrestling and fighting, the Omega's pheromones spiking as he did his best to keep his body in check while trying to get the upper hand.

The fight didn't last long, though.

Y/N was soon pinned underneath the Alpha, his wrists in a tight grip above his head. Hal's free hand was holding his chin, forcing him to look at him.

"I can't believe you'd say something like that to me. After everything we've been through." The Alpha said, his voice low.

"Let go of me." Y/N struggled, trying to get out of the Alpha's hold.

"Not until you admit that you want me. That you're mine."

"In your dreams, Jordan. I don't belong to you. I'm not some prize that you can claim."

"I can do whatever I want. I'm an Alpha and I'm Green Lantern," Hal smirked, his grip on Y/N's wrists tightening as he rubbed the hard-on throbbing under his suit against the weaker male, "And you're an Omega. My Omega. You're gonna submit."

"You're not my Alpha, and you may be Green Lantern, but you'll never be Superman," Y/N said, ignoring the pleasurable tingles running through his body from the Alpha grinding against him while sporting his spiteful little smirk at the Alpha, "You'll never be him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hal questioned with a growl.

"I know you're jealous of him, Hal. You put on this cocky, self-assured facade, but deep down, you hate that Superman is everything you wish you could be. He's not even technically an Alpha and yet, everyone respects him. Everyone trusts him. He's the perfect hero, and you're not."

"You're wrong."

Y/N could see he was hitting some nerves, and despite the warnings in his head telling him to stop, he couldn't, "Am I? So why is it that every time he's near me, you're always watching me? Always trying to get my attention. You're always trying to assert your dominance as if that's going to make me want you more."

"Stop talking," Hal ordered, not even realizing how he was slowly grinding his hard erection against the Omega's slick dripping heat, the friction from their uniforms making it all the more pleasurable.

"You're always going on and on about how you're an Alpha and Superman's not, and yet, he's the first person who comes to mind when anyone thinks of a traditional or a perfect Alpha."

"That's enough."

"And what does that say about you, Hal?"

"Shut the fuck up!" The Alpha roared, his scent becoming suffocating as he tightened his hold on Y/N's wrists, his hips rutting faster and harder against the Omega's crotch.

"You're a disgrace to the Green Lantern Corps, Hal. And you're a disgrace to the Air Force." Y/N continued, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and lust as he stared at the Alpha above him.

"That's not true," Hal said, his voice faltering slightly.

"Is it? Because the way I see it, you're nothing more than a second-rate Green Lantern, a third-rate Alpha, and a fifth-rate superhero," The Omega ended, a venom to his words as he tauntingly smiled at the Alpha rutting against his body, his scent sweetening as his orgasm arrived already due to the increasingly sensitive state of his body from his heat approaching.

"SHUT UP!"

Hal lost control, his instincts taking over as he ripped the fabric of Y/N's suit. He couldn't stand the disrespect and the insults, and he needed to make the Omega eat his words. He needed to show he was better than the Kryptonian. He had to himself as the stronger Alpha, as the only Alpha.

He needed to prove that he was the best.

Y/N's moans were music to his ears, his slick coating his fingers as he pushed two digits inside the smaller male's tight cunt, the Alpha growling in arousal as the warmth wrapped around him. The Omega had to grip the edges of the table that he could reach to keep himself steady as his body rocked with overwhelming stimulation from Hal's fingers entering him so roughly while he was still in the middle of his first orgasm.

"A-ah, fuck ... ! H-Hal, stop.." Y/N moaned, his legs shaking as his walls fluttered around the Alpha's fingers.

His hand was around the Omega's throat, squeezing tightly as he forced him to look at him, "Don't you ever say those things to me again. Do you hear me? I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure."

"You are...a failure." Y/N choked out, his eyes watering.

At this point, the Omega had slowly given into his body's most primal desires, his mindset slowly slipping into that of a sex-crazed, needy little shit who just wanted to get fucked and knotted, thanks to his heat.

The Alpha snarled at the insult, his fingers thrusting deeper and harder. His thumb rubbed circles around the Omega's nub, the bundle of nerves sending jolts of pleasure up the smaller male's body. His focus had become solely on proving himself. He needed to show the Omega who was in charge.

"Stop saying that! Stop it! You're lying!" Hal growled, his pace quickening.

"Y-you're a f-failure. You'll...never be Superman," Y/N panted, his mind growing clouded. "You'll never b-be my A-Alpha."

"I'll be your Alpha. I'll be better than him. Better than any of them."

Within just another few minutes, The Alpha pulled another mind-shattering orgasm from the Omega, his scent heavy and intoxicating. He pulled out his fingers, licking his lips as he watched the mixed slick and cum dripping from them. He moved his hand up to the Omega's mouth, smearing the wetness across his lips.

"Suck them."

"No..." Y/N whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Do it. Now." Hal demanded, his grip on the Omega's neck tightening.

The squeeze against the smaller male's neck had his mouth opening with a quiet yelp in reflex, allowing the Alpha's fingers to enter. The taste was sweet and salty, and the Alpha couldn't help but growl in arousal as he watched the Omega suck his digits clean.

"That's it, baby. Get them nice and clean. You like the taste of your body, don't you?"

Once the Alpha had pulled his fingers out, the Omega's eyes were glazed over. His scent was so strong and thick, and it was almost enough to make the Alpha's knees weak. He wasn't done yet, though. He still needed to show no one was better than him.

Especially not Superman.

Hal ripped the front of his Green Lantern uniform open (it was okay, it magically came on and off anyway), exposing his toned chest and abs. His cock sprung free, already leaking precum. He positioned himself at the Omega's entrance, his tip rubbing against the wet entrance.

"Look at me." The Alpha growled, grabbing the Omega's chin.

Y/N's gaze was half-lidded, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his breathing was heavy. He could feel the Alpha's cock throbbing against him, the tip catching on his rim every so often.

"Still think I'm a failure? Still think I'm not good enough?" Hal growled.

"You're not..."

Y/N cried out as the Alpha entered him roughly, the sudden intrusion making him clench around the thick shaft. His body was overly sensitive, and the feeling of being filled was almost too much. He couldn't stop his hips from rolling forward, his thighs shaking.

"Oh, God...!"

"Doesn't seem like I'm a failure, does it?"

"Fuck...Hal, please, I can't take it.." Y/N begged, his body trembling.

"No, you'll take it. You'll take every inch of me." The Alpha growled, his hands gripping the Omega's waist as he began thrusting in and out, his pace fast and rough.

"No, please, Hal...stop, I can't...!"

"You can, and you will."

Hal's fingers dug into Y/N's sides, his thrusts growing faster and harder. His eyes were trained on the Omega's face, taking in the sight of his tear-stained cheeks and the drool dripping from his lips. The scent coming from the smaller male was so sweet and tempting, the Alpha's nostrils flaring as he breathed it in.

"Fuck, you're always so tight. Such a good little Omega for me."

"N-no, I'm not...I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. You're mine. My Omega."

The Alpha leaned forward, his teeth grazing the Omega's neck. He could feel the smaller male's pulse-quickening, his body shivering as the Alpha's warm breath ghosted across his skin.

"You're mine, Y/N. No one else's."

"H-Hal..."

"You're gonna be my mate, and you're gonna carry my seed and give me my first kid. I deserve it. I'm a better Alpha than any of them."

"N-nh ... ah ... n-no."

"Yes, you will. I'll fill you up with my cum, and I'll make sure it takes."

Hal leaned down over the Omega's body, his front pressing against the smaller male's chest as he continued his relentless assault on his cunt. His thrusts were deep and hard, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the air.

"Mine...mine...mine." The Alpha growled, his lips ghosting over the Omega's jaw and neck.

"H-Hal, please...it h-hurts." Y/N choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks as his hands clawed at the Alpha's wrist.

"Yeah, that's right. Beg. Who's a third-rate Alpha now, huh? Who's a failure now, Y/N?" Hal snarled while nipping the Omega's jaw and neck, the sound of the conference table creaking and groaning under their weight.

Y/N had already been through his third climax at this point, his body overstimulated and sore all over from the Alpha's rough treatment. He couldn't think straight, his mind overwhelmed by the pleasure and pain coursing through him.

"H-Hal, no, s-stop, p-plea–"

The Omega's cries were cut off by the Alpha's hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing tightly.

"Shut the fuck up. I'll let you breathe and talk when you're ready to admit who you belong to. Not before."

"H-Hal..."

The Alpha's hips were slamming into the Omega's, the sound of their bodies coming together echoing throughout the room. His knot was swelling, his thrusts growing more and more erratic.

Hal had never fucked him so brutally before, landing a harsh slap on the side of his bottom every so often while squeezing his neck even tighter. His insides felt like they were on fire, his walls clenching and throbbing around the Alpha's length.

"All that talk earlier and now look at you, crying and begging for me to stop. What happened to you thinking I'm a failure, huh? Did you change your mind?"

"I-I d-didn't. Y-you're a f-failure." Y/N managed to choke out despite his oxygen-deprived brain.

The Alpha's thrusts grew even harder, his knot catching on the Omega's rim every so often. He was close, his cock pulsating and throbbing inside the smaller male. He leaned up to stare the smaller male in the face, preparing to breed the smart-mouth brat while glaring at him through his mask.

"I can't wait to see Superman's face when you're round with my kid, knowing that you'll be mine and no one else's. And it'd better be a boy and an Alpha, or we'll be right back where we started," Hal growled, his grip on the Omega's throat tightening once more.

He continued hammering away at the Omega's heat, getting closer and closer to his end while Y/N approached his fourth, "Hope you weren't planning on having that weak Kryptonian with you during your heat. Because I'm gonna fuck you until you're pregnant, and then you're not gonna leave my side until I know you're carrying my child."

"P-perv..." Y/N weakly muttered, the Alpha's thrusts hitting his sweet spot repeatedly as he was forced to look into the Alpha's mask.

"Say what you want, but you know you're mine. And don't think I'm not going to punish you for those words earlier. I'll have you gagged and tied to the bed until you're carrying my kid. No protection this time."

Despite the lack of air in his lungs, Y/N, through the cloggy fog of his sex-muddled brain managed to mutter out one more thing before meeting his fate on the Green Lantern's knot, "I'd rather have Superman's kid than your failure spawn."

And just like that, Hal's grip on his throat tightened and his knot swelled and caught inside the Omega's hot cavern, his cock releasing his hot load while he growled, "That's it. You're gonna get it now."

Hal's knot kept his cum from spilling out of the Omega's throbbing walls, his grip tightening even more around the Omega's neck as he choked the life out of the smaller male.

The seething anger across Hal's face as he bred the Omega with his cum while he struggled to breathe was the last thing Y/N saw before blacking out.

While Y/N slipped into unconsciousness, Hal got the eerie feeling he was being watched, turning to see a trail of a familiar red cape through the small window in the door.

Superman.

The Alpha felt a sense of accomplishment and superiority, smirking as his hand squeezed the Omega's neck and the other ran down his body, settling at the base of his stomach, "Don't worry, Y/N, I'll take care of you. I'll prove to you who's the best Alpha. Just you wait."

When his knot finally deflated, Hal pulled out his limp cock from the Omega's sloppy hole. He watched as his cum spilled out of the smaller male's pink and puffy cunt, his fingers scooping some up. He pushed it back inside, his smirk growing wider.

He re-formed his entire suit while doing his best to cover him before slinging his unconscious form over his shoulder, making his way out of the room and the Hall. He was going to have his Omega, whether he liked it or not.

He was going to breed him and make him bear his child, and no one was going to stop him.

Hal had been walking for a few minutes when a large gust of wind nearly knocked him over, Superman standing before him, his expression unreadable, "What the hell do you want, Kryptonian?"

"Give him to me."

"No."

"That wasn't a request, Jordan," Clark growled, his eyes narrowing, "Give him to me."

"I don't think so. I'm the only Alpha here, and I'm going to take him back home. I'll show him that I'm the better man. And there's nothing you can do but accept it," Hal said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"Like hell, I am," Clark said, his eyes glowing red.

Hal barely had time to react before the Omega was ripped from his shoulder and cradled in Superman's arms, "What the hell?! Get your hands off him, you bastard!"

"I'm not the bastard, Hal. That title goes to you," Clark growled, his tone cold, "Now, stay away from Y/N. If I find out you've touched him again, I'll personally deliver your ring back to Oa myself. Got it?"

The Green Lantern was left speechless, watching as the Kryptonian flew off with the Omega. He was pissed, and he knew he had to get him back. He wouldn't let Superman steal what was rightfully his.

"Alright, then. Round three it is, fly-boy."

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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writerslittlelibrary · 4 months

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So, I'm not a prisoner?

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: fighting, weapons, stabbing, blood, implied sexual abuse

genre: fluff, angst

words: 3073

a/n: I wanted to do a fic like this for so long!!!! anyway, I just kept scouting tumblr trying to find fics like this, so I figured I’d finally write one myself :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A quick in and out. That was your mission. How on earth did you manage to screw it up so bad. In and out. Assassinate the traitor and come right back.

Dreykov would’ve been so proud.

But that didn’t happen. No. Every single aspect about that night failed to go according to plan. You snuck into the event Stark had hosted, was able to blend in with the other party goers, and you were able to hide when most of the people started to leave.

Once it was just the Avengers left, you stayed in your hiding spot, observing them. You were here to kill Natasha Romanoff, and Natasha Romanoff only.

You could not afford any casualties, so you had it all planned out.

You’d wait until the Avengers would leave, and you’d take Natasha out before she could make it to her living quarters. You knew that once she made it to the living space of the Avengers tower, getting to her would be a lot harder.

However, against all odds, Natasha excused herself from the group quite early, saying she wanted to get a good nights sleep.

You internally cursed yourself, hating that this wasn’t something that you had planned for.

Around the couches were still some Avengers sat. You recognised all of them. Clint Barton shouldn’t be too much trouble. He was only a guy who’s good with a bow. For Maria Hill could be said the same thing, except she’s very skilled with a gun.

No, you were worried about the other Avengers still seated. Tony Stark could call upon his armour in mere seconds. Thor had the power of thunder for god’s sake. Wanda Maximoff has exceptional powers, and therefor, if you were to attack with her still in the room, you’d be immobilised in an instant.

You were fairly certain you didn’t need to worry much about Bruce Banner. Sure, he could turn into the Hulk, but he didn’t turn often, and lately, the Hulk hasn’t been spotted in the battlefield, meaning he probably had many trouble turning into him.

Pietro Maximoff shouldn’t bring you a lot of trouble either.

Your main concern were Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. One Super Soldier you could handle, but two? While fighting the rest of the Avengers? That wasn’t going to work.

Lucky for you, Wanda Maximoff had excused herself from the gathering a while ago. If you didn’t make to much noise, she wouldn’t be much of a problem. You could be outside before she’d even make it to the party deck.

Your original plan was to just wait. Natasha Romanoff would have usually sat through a party until far into the evening. You’d know, you’ve been watching her for weeks.

However, now that Romanoff has announced she was returning to her bedroom, a slight panic ran through your body.

Dreykov gave your 5 weeks to finish this assignment. That’s longer than any assignment you’d ever been on. You could not disappoint him with this. You had to kill the traitor.

You figured now was your only chance, and so, as Natasha Romanoff made her way towards the elevator, you followed her.

However, not even to your surprise, she stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“You know I’m an assassin, too? You’re good, but you’re not un noticeable,” she states, calmly turning around, being met with a gun to your face. The moment she stopped, you were wise enough to draw your gun, holding her at gunpoint for any sudden movements.

You could see a slight surprise appear on her face, before her face returned to her poker face once again.

“You’re just a child…” Natasha spoke slowly, seeming almost disappointed.

“You’re a traitor,” you spoke, loading the gun, taking a step closer. Natasha simply shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she spoke, before leaping towards you. You shot your gun, but Natasha was too fast, avoiding your gunfire as she ran past you, back to the other Avengers.

How on earth could you have missed that shot? She was right there.

Pathetic.

You don’t hesitate to run after her, determined to finish this tonight.

Very much not to your surprise, the moment you run back into the party hall, the Avengers are already standing up and ready. Ready to fight you.

You don’t hesitate to move forwards, and after fighting Clint Barton for mere seconds, you quickly realise they have no intention of hurting you. You could use that to your advantage, and you do.

You kick Barton hard, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air as you move forward, taking on Maria.

However, the moment you get close to Maria, two strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you back. They’re holding you tightly, and it doesn’t feel like they’re planning to let go.

You struggle in the hold, fighting against who ever is holding you as you try to break free. A small panic runs through your body. The fear of being captured by the Avengers taking place in your mind. You do not fear the Avengers, but the thought of being seen as a traitor by Dreykov hurts your heart more than words could describe.

“Stop struggling. We can help you,” you hear a voice behind you speak, and you soon come to realise the person you’re fighting is Captain America himself.

No wonder you couldn’t get loose.

Knowing it’s a Super Soldier, you’re quick to outsmart him, making him think you’re getting tired, relaxing your body is his hold. Because of this, the Captain lightens his grip a bit, giving you enough room to wiggle your arm free, moving it backwards to hit him in the face with your elbow.

Because of the surprise, he lets you go, allowing you to stand again.

The moment your feet hit the ground, you dash forward, holding up your knife as you use everyone’s shock to your advantage.

Everyone is surprised by your capability of escaping Steve’s grasp, not realising your already moving towards Natasha again. You reach her quickly, stabbing your knife into her stomach as far as it can go.

Natasha gasps, and you pull the knife out, watching as all the blood starts to seep from her stomach.

Slowly, Natasha sinks to the ground, Maria catching her, helping her down.

You move towards Natasha again, determined to get the job finished, but are quickly stopped by another pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You immediately recognise the metal arm, knowing that the Winter Soldier holds you in his grasp. You can’t escape him. You never have.

He pulls you backwards, pushing you to the ground as he tries to punch you. However, you regain yourself quickly, rolling away from under him and kicking him in the face.

Suddenly, you’re moved across the room. You forgot the damn speedster…

You raise your knife quickly, stabbing him before he has a chance to make another move.

“PIETRO!” you hear a voice yell, and you turn your head to the right. Shit. Wanda Maximoff must have heard the commotion and went down to take a look. You have to get out of there. You will never win a fight with her.

You move quickly, running towards the stairs. However, before you could reach them, you felt a stabbing pain in your left shoulder, the sound of a gun shot following soon after. You had been shot. Bucky Barnes had shot you in an attempt to slow you down.

But you didn’t let it.

Instead, you went towards the stairs a little quicker, dashing down the hundreds of flights of stairs to get to the main floor.

Of course, all SHIELD agents on the main floor were already expecting you, and you were followed by Steve Rogers, but you were quicker than him. You knew that.

You dashed past all the SHIELD agents, avoiding their gun fire as you made it towards an emergency exit.

The moment you stepped outside, you started your escape route. You already planned it, knowing exactly which way to go, no matter which way you would exit.

Steve followed you outside, but the moment he set foot outside the door, you were gone. You had disappeared into the night, leaving no trace.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the Avengers tower, the team was recovering from your attack. Natasha was in bad shape. Your strike had been an attempt to murder her, and you didn’t miss any organs as you pierced your blade through her abdomen.

Pietro was much better. He was back on his feet quickly, seeing as though you stabbing him hadn’t been a murder attempt. You merely wanted to distract him.

It didn’t take long for Natasha to get back on her feet either, even though she was advised to stay on bed rest after the surgery.

Natasha was determined to find you, and she quickly got to work.

Even though you had made it out of the Avengers tower quickly, you were still hurt, and some of you blood had fallen on the floor as you made your escape towards the stairs. Clint and Maria had collected that blood, running multiple tests, only to find out you were not registered anywhere.

There was no record of your existence. Were you just another ghost story?

What they did find were traces of the Super Soldier serum. However, they were modified, almost as if they were genetically a part of your system.

Did that mean you were just another Hydra experiment? Natasha did hear you calling her a traitor. That had to mean you knew Dreykov, right? Who else viewed her as a traitor. I would make sense. Sending a modified teenage assassin after her, knowing Natasha was above killing children.

Even in the Red Room, she always hesitated when sparring against the younger students.

Dreykov must have had a lot of faith in you to send you after her. Natasha can only hope you’re not a graduate yet…

-------------------------------------------------------------

After the incident in the Avengers tower, you had fled to Germany. You figured it was best to leave the United States completely. And why would they ever search for you in Germany?

You had rented an apartment, loving the small town you had chosen. Dreykov had given you 5 weeks to finish the assignment, and now, you had only 1 week left. There is now way that you’re going to succeed in killing Natasha within the week.

They know you are after her now, and they will be prepared for you to make a return. You screwed it up.

Sloppy.

Right now, you were just heading back to your apartment. You had taken a walk, deciding to make the most out of the freedom you had in the moment. The week would be over soon, and the moment Dreykov would send for your return you are certain you will not be seeing daylight any time soon.

After you arrived in the apartment building, you instantly felt watched.

Had the Avengers found you?

You made your way up to your apartment, pushing the key into the lock and walking through the small hallway. Someone was in here, you could feel it.

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, keeping your back towards the living room.

“There are not a lot of places to hide in this apartment,” you spoke aloud into the emptiness of the apartment. Soon you heard a set of footsteps, and you felt another presence enter the room.

“You’re very skilled for your age,” you heard a voice behind you say, and you immediately recognised it as Natasha’s.

“And you are stronger than you look. I mean, even for you, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet so quickly,” you stated, turning around slowly. Natasha wasn’t holding a weapon in your face, something you were definitely expecting.

You scanned her quickly, seeing the weapons she held on her belt.

She didn’t come unarmed. Good. She’d be stupid to.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Natasha said, taking a small step forward as she held her hands in the air, showing you her every movement.

You didn’t look impressed, instead just staring at her as she moved.

“Then you are a fool,” you told her, and you spotted a small smirk flashing over Natasha’s face. “And you are very full of yourself,” she said, moving towards the kitchen island, leaning on it.

“I can’t say I blame you. You took on a lot of the Avengers on your own. Even two Super Soldiers. That’s impressive,” she stated, giving you a small smile. You didn’t return it.

“What? Jealous someone better took your place when you betrayed us,” you asked Natasha, determined to get on her nerves.

Natasha’s smile dropped quickly.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I hoped no one would ever have to go through it again,” she told you, a hint of regret almost identifiable in her expression. Now it was your time to give her a small smile.

“You think you’re so important that everything should’ve ended with you?” you asked her, moving towards the kitchen island as well, setting your glass down, still holding onto it.

Natasha shook her head.

“What I am curious about, however, is the genetic Super Soldier serum that runs through your DNA,” Natasha paused, adjusting her stance before speaking again. “Tell me, was your dad a Super Soldier?”

You let out a huff of amusement, surprising Natasha.

“You think I believe you’re just here for a conversation? There are SHIELD agents placed on every corner of every street. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. The lovely young couple, drinking coffee at the restaurant downstairs? Amazing disguise, if you were trying to trick nine year olds,” you stated, finishing your glass of water.

Natasha smiles, clearly impressed with your observations.

“You’re right. I’m not here for just a conversation, although I do hope we can prevent violence,” Natasha started, but before she could continue you interrupted her.

“You’re here to bring me in.”

Natasha nodded, and the look on her face was almost apologetic.

“No one needs to get hurt. If you just come with me, there’s a big chance you could avoid confinement,” Natasha explained, yet you just scoffed and shook your head.

“Avoid confinement? Yeah right. There is no way, that after what I have done, your people won’t lock me away.”

“I can be very persuasive,” Natasha simply replied.

There was a small silence. Natasha knew you were debating your options. You didn’t seem like a brainwashed sheep. She knew that you knew better than trusting Dreykov’s lies. Sure, you still believed she was a traitor, but there is no way that you didn’t see that what Dreykov is doing is wrong.

“You know going back after a failed mission will result in punishment,” Natasha started, trying to get through to you. Trying to give you that little push you needed to go with her. “If you go with me, you’ll never be punished like that ever again,” she finished.

You looked up, deep in thought.

“How could you be so sure?” you asked her, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to respond.

“We can keep you safe-”

“I found you. I nearly killed you. Who’s to say some other Widow won’t come after me as well?” you replied, and Natasha gave you another small smile.

“I escaped the Red Room when I was 20,” Natasha started. “It took him 12 years to send someone after me. We will make sure we’ll take him down before he even has the chance to come after you.”

“How many times, did you try to kill him, exactly? Because I believe you attempted his murder twice already, both of which you failed. You blew him up in Budapest, and then another time when you took the air facility down. Do you honestly think you’ll succeed now?”

Natasha shook her head, seemingly recollecting her thoughts.

“I failed twice, and that was sloppy, but both times I didn’t have the Avengers on my side. You ran the moment you saw Wanda. You know what she is capable of. Taking down the Red Room for good shouldn’t be too difficult with the Avengers on our side,” Natasha explained, yet you just shook your head.

“I’m not like you,” you told her, yet Natasha just looked at you in confusion.

“I’m not some disposable widow like you were. I’m more important,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a sad smile.

“Everyone is just a disposable widow to him,” she started, but you interrupted her.

“I’m not. You tested my blood. You know I carry the Super Soldier serum. I’m not just some girl he picked up from the streets,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a small nod, encouraging to keep going.

“I can’t explain it, but he won’t just let me walk. He put too much time in my creation. He would never just let it go to waste,” you finished, looking down, avoiding Natasha’s gaze as you turned around, putting your glass by the sink.

“We’ll help you. I know that we can,” Natasha tried.

“Is it worth the risk? My life is not great, but it’s not terrible either. Dreykov values me, and I am not treated like a piece of meat, unlike you might suspect.”

“So the punishment is worth it, then? Knowing that in three days time, Dreykov will have you be recollected, and once you return to the Red Room, you’ll be punished severely for a failed mission,” Natasha paused, allowing you to let her words sink in.

“Or, in three days time, you could know you can go to bed without worrying about someone joining. You could know you can be safe, and sleep through the night without anyone disrupting you. Knowing that, is the choice really that hard?” Natasha finished, and you were almost at your breaking point.

Was it worth it? Was going back the best decision? Dreykov would hurt you, you knew that, but you deserved it. Didn’t you?

“Please, just come with me. We can help,” Natasha spoke, nearly begged.

You sighed deeply.

“Fine, but if you put me in a cell, I will go on a murder streak,” you told her, and Natasha let out a chuckle, before seeing your facial expression, and realising you were dead serious.

“Duly noted,” Natasha said, before motioning you towards the door.

What had you done…

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey

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dragonrider9905 · 15 days

Text

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him.

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart.

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing.

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same.

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands.

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could.

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for?

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you.

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart?

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.”

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering.

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage.

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.)

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them.

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok.

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could.

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little.

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.”

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved.

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out.

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better.

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh.

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit.

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that.

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door.

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you.

Kriff. He had to fix this.

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship.

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before.

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken.

He was lost.

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it.

A lost love.

And it was his fault.

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible.

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on.

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep.

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty.

He saw it. And he caused it.

And he hated himself for it.

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t.

Turns out he was wrong.

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that.

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt.

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold.

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality.

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else.

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be.

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her.

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice.

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed.

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand.

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack.

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy.

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated.

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands.

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face.

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for.

It was ‘that’ look.

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time.

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone.

You squeezed his hand.

“We’ll find her. I promise.”

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long.

He squeezed your hands.

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore.

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself.

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering.

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free.

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him.

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again.

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before.

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead.

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him.

Taking a look around, you carefully considered.

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.”

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker.

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back.

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?”

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.”

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.”

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?”

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you.

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go.

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two.

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun.

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had.

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed.

Your voice.

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training.

“Meshla, no!”

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror.

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you.

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you.

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter.

Your painful cry.

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart.

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge.

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.”

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…”

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body.

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled.

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly.

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?”

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep.

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run.

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.”

Hunter came in running.

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him.

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls.

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open.

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you.

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space.

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand.

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat.

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up.

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating.

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing.

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat.

Oh well, you could only push forward.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help.

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding.

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago?

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry.

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing.

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face.

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak.

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened.

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing?

You had an infection.

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly?

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you.

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you.

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water.

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle.

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter.

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes.

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least.

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt.

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late.

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response.

“Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope.

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him.

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk.

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand.

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her.

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed.

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area.

You blinked your eyes open with a smile.

“Hey Handsome.”

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss.

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?”

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him.

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled.

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.”

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help.

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words.

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.”

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon.

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you.

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level.

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets.

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern.

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way.

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm.

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out.

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most.

This one, he couldn’t do.

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could.

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you.

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow.

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes.

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself.

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips.

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air.

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain.

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard.

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there.

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.”

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again.

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—”

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier.

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace.

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened.

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler.

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest.

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

#I gave Hunter's scarf a fate #We now know what happened to it #It deserved a story #Hunter's scarf is important and we recognize that here #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #TBBE24

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space-writes · 10 months

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why i write in obsidian.md (and why you should try it!)

hey, hi, have I mentioned my notes app? let me tell you about my notes app! I’ve been writing in obsidian for over a year now, for fanfic and original fiction/worldbuilding (and dungeons and dragons, and life organisation, and a myriad of other things) and so far I’ve gotten at least three people to also start using it, and I am in fact on an endless quest to get more people to try it.

obsidian.md how do i love thee, let me list the ways:

It’s offline. you are not beholden to the whims of wifi!

Did i mention it’s free? it’s free!

you can pay to support the devs, or to access the sync service, but honestly I just use a free file sync service to move things between my desktop/laptop.

It’s super lightweight at its core. you can (and I do) run it with a bunch of plugins and customisation, but at it’s base it’s just text, in simple files. plaintext. readable by anything. your writing is not trapped in proprietary file formats.

HOWEVER you can in fact customise every aspect of it and if you like Making Your Notes Cute I cannot recommend it enough as a Way To Procrastinate Actually Writing

Crucially, you can link your notes. This is phenomenal for not only worldbuilding, but planning, research, outlining and connecting characters and events. You just make a note, type in square brackets, and boom. linked notes. You can make yourself a little writing wikipedia with approximately 0 effort.

I have separate vaults (Instances, pretty much. Big overarching folders with separate sets of content) for my Valloroth project, my day-to-day notes/fanfic, and my D&D game. They’re aesthetically very different, which is so so so great for getting in the right headspace for the work I’m doing.

OH and we have obsidian canvas now! which is a simple mind-mapping feature where you can make and connect note cards, which can also be notes in your vault. I haven’t had a chance to do timelines with it yet, but it’ll be fun for that. I have made relationship charts with it, and it was great for that. If you like visually laying out boxes of information and connecting them into a pepe silvia board of plot, canvas is incredible

this is a pointcrawl map I made for my D&D game. Those red words in the boxes? links to the locations in the city the players were exploring. phenomenal

do you like split screen? you can have multiple notes open at once in horizontal and vertical configurations, and you can also open multiple tabs in each split window. it’s SO great for research and outlining, when you need like ten documents open at once to move between

finally, there are so many addons to COMPLETELY CUSTOMISE your Writing Setup. styling for tags. kanban boards. LINKABLE MAPS. ways to label scenes with metadata and pull just so many different tables/lists of story information. AND SO MANY MORE. I’m gonna do a whole post of my favourite writing plugins at some point so i can yell about them

the only downsides are that it’s somewhat clunky still to export things out of obsidian—I copy my fics into googledocs for my beta, and I have a plugin to make exporting to html easier to post on ao3, but it’s still kinda fiddly. Also, if you want a program that Has Everything and Just Works, this is…not that. you can build a lot of really useful writing specific features, but you do have to build them. it’s a sandbox, so if you don’t like sandbox-style programs, this may not work for you.

that being said, I do think everyone should try it and play with it and love it like I do and convince all their friends to start using it like i did. come play with obsidian with me! it’s fun! there’s a great community in the official discord that’s very active, plus an ever-growing collection of resources, particularly on youtube (highly reccommend Danny Hatcher’s videos as a jumping in point, they’re super accessible imo)

anyway, come try obsidian!

#obsidian md #obsidian.md #writeblr #writing program #writing #writing process #notes app #space has thoughts #writing apps #writing tools #writer things #writing setup #this whole blog has just been a long con to get more people to download obsidian #notes app (beloved)

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readychilledwine · 3 months

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Glory Hole

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

We all probably know a glory hole is a place, typically in a bathroom, where people can pay for an anonymous sexual encounter. Here's what I didn't know before digging into this kink a lot more, though!

Glory holes have been used for hundreds of years but are believed to have originated or grown most popular among the LGBTQIA community. It was a safe way for closeted members of the community to be able to have sex with someone without risking their identity being revealed. Glory holes have resurged in popularity since 2020 due to the CDC and WHO being unable to provide people with ideas for safe sex during the Covid 19 pandemic. They can now be found in sex clubs, legal practicing brothels, and a ton of other locations. Typically, oral is what commonly happens with glory holes, but modern motivation and technology have made so much more possible with them, allowing both parties to receive pleasure and enjoy the experience.

The appeal of glory holes is the anonymous aspect of it. Sex with a stranger is always more thrilling, right? There's no expectations. You aren't as focused on impressing them. It is about pleasure and pleasure only, and that is the appeal that has made so many people fall in lust with the idea of them.

At least, Cassian will think that's pretty exciting.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Cassian x Reader

Warnings - reader is a sex worker, sketchy business practice, inferred danger, dp via toy use, toy use, p in v, unprotected sex, restraints, praise, Liz throwing possible fic content into what's supposed to be one shots. Sorry, friends 💕💕

You sighed as you walked into the pleasure hall for the night.

To the outside world, it was no different than Rita's. Drinks, loud music, a dance floor. The only difference was the upstairs of the hall.

Whereas Rita's had private booths, here had something much much different. For a pretty penny, only the wealthiest of guests could enter and be taken into a whole new experience kept private from the High Lord himself.

You were led up the steps, already going numb to what you had to do to pay bills, to stay alive. You entered the room males and females alike stood in. It was a haven here, a place you all could run to after one too many clients as you were asked to call them. A board with countless messages and warnings on clients who were banned sat on the largest wall. Every day, each of you received a new assignment, a new place you were to be stationed and kept until you were purchased and moved into a new room for the time allowed.

You did not know if the Mother was blessing you or mocking you as you read your assignment, “The Hole.” One of your coworkers, a new girl fresh out of school, came next to you, taking your hand. “You can take the lay down spot,” you squeezed her hand gently. “It's your first time in there. You'll want it.”

“I heard we'll make good money tonight.” You smiled at her, kissing her forehead as you walked her towards the room.

“You'll make your rent within two hours. We have an 8 hour shift, so you'll be able to safely afford recovery time off. Or a spa trip.”

Cassian hated being used by Azriel for spywork.

The general was hardly stealthy, too bold and loud to keep secrets, and frankly, everyone knew who he was. This was one spy scout out he was salivating at the idea of, though. A pleasure hall with a brothel hidden above it. A brothel that was hidden so well it and its workers had sat under Rhysand's nose for years, dodging thousands in taxes.

Nesta accidentally told Azriel about it after doing something to him that had the spymaster seeing the heavens. “A pretty female taught me when I went to Haven once.”

Haven wasn't an unknown pleasure hall to them. The inner circle would go there when they wanted more of a party atmosphere than Rita's offered, but Nesta had unknowingly confirmed a rumor that had been circling the court for years.

The large sum of gold in Cassian's pocket was a heavy reminder of why he was here. He handed the guard of the club 100 gold, a steep price just to be taken up the the brothel, and almost had a heart attack when he entered.

It was the cleanest whore house he had ever been in. The females all wore dresses similar to what Rhysand dressed Feyre in for the court of Nightmares. The men wore silk boxers. Cassian was approached by a pretty blonde with a menu of services they offered. One section stood out to him, though. “Anonymous Sex.” It was 800 gold, 2 hour time limit, a room with two females, a female and a male, or two males. “The females room please.”

The blonde smiled, head tilted almost longingly. “You're the first in there tonight. My girls will think they've been blessed with a God.”

He almost died again upon entering. Inside the large room, a wall of toys and discipline implements say, chairs in case you had brought friends with you, and a sink for aftercare for the girls. What really had Cassian stirring, thinking he was going to partake instead of question, was the two naked females, one on her back with her feet positioned into a harness, the other standing bent over whatever lied beyond that wall. All he could see was their lower bodies, wet and waiting with anticipation.

And the best part, the absolute best part? They could not see an inch of him.

You could hear the new girl crying out to any Gods that would listen as the wet sound of flesh smacking against each other was rhythmic. It was rare for one guest to enter the room normally reserved for parties of 2 or 3, but who were you to just if someone wanted to pay to have females to themselves.

It had happened once before in your time here. The female had not thought any of you would know who she was, but a sandy blonde female with grey eyes spending and tipping so freely and without concern was clearly a high ranking member of the court. And from the glimpse you had gotten, it was clearly Nesta Archeron.

You wanted to applaud when you heard your partner finishing. It was a genuine completion, not her faking the orgasm, training you all had and thanked the Cauldron for daily. You were dripping, but would have been content with being left alone. Maybe that's why you were so surprised when a harsh smack landed on your ass, cracking through the air and sending pleasure through you like a wave.

Cassian was memorizing the scent of both of the females in front of him. He wasn't going to waste the gold he had already spent to get into the brothel and into this room, so instead, he made the choice to mix work with pleasure, and fuck both of these girls until he could stand it anymore.

He left the first girl, dripping his cum and hers while she whimpered, legs visibly shaking. She had a preference for gentler sex, no aftercare. Whereas the girl, who's ass he was currently stroking himself to the sight of, had a preference for rough, toys allowed, aftercare preferred.

He saved her for last for that reason alone.

Cassian looked at the wall of toys, eyes locked on a thick dildo and lube and went to grab them. He set the lube down after taking some on his hand, rubbing it on the toys and then her pretty waiting holes. If she liked rough sex and toys, then fine, he'd stuff her full, filling both of those pretty waiting holes.

“Pretty thing, aren't you,” he purred, voice laced with lust. “We'll see how pretty you are when I'm done with you.”

You jumped in surprise and moaned as the male behind you began working a toy into your back entrance slowly. It was suddenly torture to be in the restraints they used to keep you both in place, to prevent you from ruining the allusion that the fae paying for these rooms were unknown to everyone. Every slow inch stretching had your body igniting, wanting you to beg for more.

You whimpered once it was fully inside of you, wiggling your hips in a silent plea. “Eager little thing.” That voice, Gods that voice, it had your cunt twitching around nothing. “Oh don't worry, kitten, I plan on filling that too.”

And Gods did he. That stretch started after a few sloppy thrusts of the dildo, and you could have sworn you saw the Mother once he was seated inside of you.

He either had the largest cock you've ever taken, or, the use of the toy made it seem that way. He gave you a few moments, cooing praise to you as a large calloused hand ran the outsides of your thighs.

The first roll of his hips inside of you did have you seeing the Mother. His cock was heavy and perfect, rubbing every nerve in your velvety walls. Once his testing was over, you felt those hands grip your hips, bruising them instantly, and he began.

This male began fucking you like both of your lives depended on your orgasm. He fucked you like he owned you, like he owned that peak of pleasure he was quickly driving you to. Between his cock and the toy, you were stuffed full and so sensitive, mind going numb and you moaned, cried, and begged.

He was so deep inside of you he hit places others had easily failed to. “Fuck you feel like Heaven, kitten.”

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, a soft “Thank you, sir,” leaving your mouth as you began to twitch around him.

Cassian was lost in the softness, warmth and wetness of this female's heat.

He would have paid 800 gold just for her. For just one hour with her. Each twitch of her silk had him on edge, ready to pump his seed so deep into her every single fae trying to fuck her afterwards would have to use him as lubricant.

She tightened around him again, moans becoming higher in pitch and more desperate. “Gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna cum around my cock? Cum with that toy in your ass like a good whore?”

He was practically begging for it knowing he was going to finish in what he felt was embarrassingly record time. One of his hands moved to her clit, groaning as she gasped and wailed loudly. “That's it baby, cum for me.”

Those skilled fingers circled your clit over and over in time with him fucking into you with reckless abandonment. You were right on that edge, ready to fall, and then he growled. The noise so primal it shot through your body like an arrow, and in true nature, you came.

You came so hard you saw the cosmos, the afterlife, the ocean. Your high ripped through you like a tidal wave, walls milking him as he roared behind you.

You heard him him lean against the wall, panting as he gave a few sloppy finishing twitchs. He pulled himself and the toy out at the same time, chuckling as you whined from the sudden emptiness. You heard him following protocol, washing the toy and setting it on the table closest to you so any Other clients knew who it had been used on.

The warm rag he used to clean you while he whispered to you gently was almost better than the sex as it wiped away the remnants and dripping reminders of this sin.

Something made you pause, though, the rough sound of leathery wings flapping.

You replayed the voice in your head over and over after he left. Thinking to where you had heard it before and then whispered, “Oh fuck.” Your hand slapped the release for the restraints and you stepped out and into the room, grabbing your robe and pulling it to the other side as you did. You touched the new girl's leg, “I'll be right back, babe. We have a problem.”

You left the room, entering the hall quickly. You made eye contact with the front desk girl, then the Illyrian male leaving tips for you and your partner.

Cassian, the general of the Night Court, paused as he saw you. He smirked, but that quickly fell when you hit a button. On the wall and the fae lights died, the establishment was going dark.

The female before him began to glow. “You should leave before she gets the owner.” Cassian blinked, confused as to what was happening. “Big daddy doesn't like having his business potentially fucked with. He's killed for less. Leave before she gets him. It won't end well if you don't.”

Cassian heard movement in the room, cursing himself for not wearing his siphons and left, throwing gold on the table for the females.

He called for Rhysand to send Azriel as he walked through that shady part of Velaris alone. His shoulders fell in relief as his brothers both walked beside him in time.

“One,” he started. “I just had the best sex experience of my life.”

“Two,” he sighed. “It's fucking expensive, Rhys. The common citizen isn't getting in there unless they've saved for months.”

He turned to Azriel, “They call the owner Big Daddy.”

The shadowsinger paled before masking his concern. “Let's winnow,” he said firmly. “I do not feel like dealing with him tonight.”

General tag list:

Rhys nodded, grabbing Cassian's arm and then Azriel's. “Let's go home, and then I want to hear about this sex.”

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#acotar #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian smut #cassian of illyria #lord of bloodshed #cassian acotar #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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mothwingwritings · 8 months

Note

Idk if you’re into omega verse but omg I just thought of it being applied to Yujiro and poor omega reader goddamn 😭 (I think I may have gone a little bit too far on this one ngl, also I’m half asleep so sorry for any issues..)

Nasty nasty Alpha Yujiro who takes advantage of poor little you. Who would have thought he’d ever encounter such a rare beauty? Omegas were practically extinct in the baki universe, the world full of hardened alphas made no room for the sweet soft omegas. And yet here you were against all odds.

From the moment he met you, he’d made the promise that he would never spread his seed through out the world.

Nay, he was going to hammer in his children into your fertile womb as you cried out in overstimulation. You would carry all of his offspring for the rest of your life. That was a promise.

While many of his past devoted lovers would have been flattered by his devotion, you were anything but.

Sure Yujiro would disappear on some days but no longer than a week.

But on the days he were in your house. It’d be a constant running away and fighting off the lustful touches of Yujiro.

The dreadful “Honey~ I’m home!~” had you cringing so hard as thick muscular arms surrounded your waist.

Having to take showers with the Ogre that always ended with you pressed up against the glass mirror as Yujiro crowded you against it.

Having your favorite clothes torn to shreds as he tried to make “love to you”.

Waking up in the middle of the night to see the humongous man deep in your guts as he ruthlessly pounded into you.

And when you went in heat…oh boy.

You’re horny 24/7 and you won’t fight back at all? Just lil ol you whimpering about how much it hurts and that you need something inside? You’d let the older man kiss you and cling onto him needily. His poor little omega!

Yeah, Yujiro loves your heats.

This man keeps a track record of when your heats are around the corner. It doesn’t matter if he’s in another country or across the globe the globe away from you. If he sees you have started your heat, he’s running like a madman with the nastiest smirk that has people running away screaming. They all thought he was out to murder someone (ya ur lil meow meow)

Out of spite you decide to hook up with some random beta when your heat starts up. Which immediately back fires when Yujiro has said man tied up as he watches you get plowed down by your real alpha.

“My little omega, have I neglected you so much that you seeked out some limp dick beta to satisfy you? I guess I’ll have to you more attention to keep you satisfied, huh?”

You know Yujiro is going to show you off. I mean, who wouldn’t?

He’s pulling up to the tournaments with you sitting on his shoulder clad in a thin bikini. Your looking away from the many lustful looks directed at you, all while Yujiro basks in the jealous looks he receives.

They all look so angry at him, but yet…too intimidated to muster the courage to say anything to him. Yes this was a fine idea.

He’s got you wearing a pretty diamond collar with the letters “Property of Ogre.”

Every time you both return from such fights, it didn’t matter if he came back angry or happy both were valid reasons to fuck you in the entrance your home. After that he would ravage you on any surface in the house.

He was going to get so many babies out of you.

Me reading this ask loool

You must have read my mind anon, I was just musing the other day on how I want to some day take a stab at writing an ABO fic and the Bakiverse would be perfect fodder for it. 😌

But God... Yujiro would be the worst fucking Alpha. That man could track you down from miles away, knowing where you are at all times should he need you. And he has such intricate knowledge on basically every aspect of you and your life that it goes beyond concerning, it's downright invasive. It takes no time at all for him to claim fuck you, giving you no time to really sus him out or get to know him before you've become irrevocably his. He's now your bonded partner, and you are not at all thrilled with that.

When yujiro comes to claim you he attacks you with such a bestial, feral intensity that you are afraid one day your body won't be able to take the abuse he inflicts on it, giving you serious concerns over whether you will survive the mating process. You got lucky the first time, but what about in the future? How many pups does he plan to pump inside of you? The thought keeps you up at night. You don't even want to parent his offspring, let alone be demoted to his breeding stock to be fucked full again and again and again. You would have chosen ANY alpha other than Yujiro, but now this was your lot in life-forced to not only be his mate, but bear his children, creating new versions of this monster to roam the planet. Would they grow up to be like their father, or would you have any hope of raising them to be decent, loving people?

Also, I feel like your body will just constantly be marked up everywhere. His mating bites don't stop at the scent glands, and you usually end up looking like you just left a 12 round boxing match on the losing side instead of a mating session with your alpha. :(

And when you are in heat its the absolute fucking worst. Lusting after Yurjiro, your entire body aching for him to desecrate and destroy you, your insides burning white hot for his touch. Only your alpha can cure you of this all consuming sickness that plagues you, and you turn into a whiny blubbery mess when Yujiro is around, pleading and begging for him to claim you. It's absolutely dreadful how much you yearn for such a barbaric man, and each and every time you are disgusted with how easily you give in to him. You just roll over and become his docile little fuck mate, turned into a wanton, lusting mess from just catching his scent alone. You loath him as much as you need him, and words cannot describe the amount of hate you hold in your heart for the man that turned you into this pathetic shell of who you once were.

#this is some of that good shit #thank you for indulging me anon love you mwah #abo verse #abo baki #yujiro hanma x reader #yujiro x reader #yujiro hanma x y/n #mothresponse #alpha yujiro

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ambrosiagoldfish · 3 months

Note

First time requesting anything sooo let me know if I get anything wrong but,,, could I request some dragon!reader x Venti (Genshin Impact) fluff ? Dragon in like... The way that Zhongli is with a dragon and a humanoid form. let me know if I should send another ask with anything additional,,

Draconic Inquiries

Venti x Dragon! Reader

Safe for all Audiences!

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff and Gn! Reader!

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1634

A/N: Hi, thank you for the request! I’m sorry it took so long! There was a lot of hiccups that came up this past week, but I’m happy to finally have had gotten to finishing this!

I wasn’t sure if you wanted a Fluff Fic or head-canons so I did both! I would have asked you but I was already upset that it took this long to write, so I decided not to! I also wrote it to be romantic! I hope this is ok! If not, just shoot me another request and I’ll make you a new one!!

Proofread but of course I could have missed something.

He was first introduced to you via The Traveler, and right away he could tell something about you reminded him a lot of that "old block-head" as Venti so eloquently puts it. Of course, you weren’t anything like Zhongli, but there were some very similar aspects between the two of you at a more biological level.

It didn't take him long to figure it out though, despite his carefree and lovable nature, he is quite perceptive. He could tell from the power imitating from you, that you weren't some regular run of the mill Allogene. The power that you gave off wasn't exactly like his or even most of the other archons it was more… Pure? Something more undisturbed than most elemental beings.

Whatever you were, he wasn't sure if you were open about it, Him, being an Archon, would make him relate to you regarding hiding the truth about yourself, if that is the case. So he decided to ask you about it alone. You were a bit hesitant at first to outright admit it, especially to a person who seemed so interested. Being an Elemental beast, were able to sense an alarming amount of Anemo Energy coming from this short drunkard bard, way too much to just be some regular mortal.

When you finally reveal yourself to be a dragon, he's honestly pretty excited. He's only ever met 4 dragons in his 2600+ year life span, Zhongli, who was just annoyed by any questions he would ask, Dvalin, who, despite being one of his closest friends, is also annoyed by many of his drunken inquiries. Durin and Ursa the Drake tried destroying Mondstadt so they were definitely not an option... So he's been dying to ask a vishap some questions.

And Immediately they started

"Dragon's have hoards, right? Surely there has to be a teensy bit of fine wine there? No? Darn it..."

"Can you breathe fire?!"

"Is it true that dragon's are scared of mice? Eh... Wait! no! That's Elephants. Nevermind!"

It was quite a lot to process and answer them all in time before he went on to the next question. Eventually he seemed to run out of them, that or he saw how distressed you were trying to keep up.

"That's enough questions for today, Ehe! Next time we should have our conversation over a nice cold glass of cider!"

"Next time?"

Venti then, from that day forward, had the two of you meeting up more and more, He would bring the drinks, both Alcoholic and Non-Alcoholic, depending on if you drink or not. and every time, Venti would somehow come up with more and more questions about your heritage, nonstop rambling of questions that would go from dusk till dawn. He seemed to never run out of them. But eventually he would start asking questions that weren't about your Draconic lifestyle. Things like,

"So Y/n, have you ever dated anyone before?"

"Hey Yn! Have you heard that the Windblume Festival is coming soon? Ehe, What do you think the original windblume was? Cecilia? Great choice!"

"Have you ever been to Windrise? It's the place with the huge tree! Huh? eh, You haven't? I'll make sure to show you sometime"

The Windblume festival finally comes around, the whole of Mondstadt was in a fury of unending joy, there were games, foods and deserts, the entire of the city’s buildings were all decorated in many different flowers and ribbons. Dandelions soared through the air, each one carrying the wish of a soul in Mondstadt.

The Day was fantastic, but it seems Venti had more energy to spend after the day's festivities, Venti drags you by the hand through the decorated city streets, past the vendor's shops, and over the bridge, all while you were blindfolded. Of course, you were a little scared being led through all these places without even knowing where exactly you were, but your elemental sense was top notch, not to mention your regular senses at that. So you knew you weren't in any real danger.

"Venti, this is a bit dramatic, even for you"

"Eh he… very funny Y/n, but we're almost there! Just a few more steps and... There!"

The pulling of your hand suddenly stops and Venti’s hand lets go of yours, with one quick motion the blindfold obscuring your eyes was snatched clean off. It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the sun beginning to set but even then being blindfolded caused even the slightest of light to sting your eyes.

Looking up, a big tree hung over you both, lying under the tree, just by the roots, was a checkered red and white blanket layed across the viridescent grass, a seemingly warnout picnic basket layed atop it. From where you stood you could make out a plethora of food and drinks, Pie, Dandelion wine, Apples. You certainly knew there was more, you could tell just from your sense of smell.

But the most notable feature about the fairytale esq scene in front of you was Venti, holding something, a bouquet of Ceclia’s

"These are what you believe to be the original Windblume right? I picked them myself so, rest assured! They’re guaranteed to be the best of quality, ehe!"

"Y/n, the time we’ve spent together these past few months have meant the world to me... Since the moment you arrived in Mondstadt, you’ve been tangled up in every thought of my mind, you've become all I can think about, my one and only worry, my muse, my... everything... What I'm trying to say is, Y/n, I love you and if you feel the same, could you continue being my muse?" His arms stretch slightly to you, offering you the bouquet in his hand.

Everything about this, the scenery, the way he asked, down to the golden hour from the sun, it was all so unforgettable. Your hands slowly move to grasp the Cecilia’s, bringing them up to your face and smelling them.

“Nothing would make me happier, Venti”

Venti’s eyes lit up, blush washed his face as a soft breeze quickly caried him over to you as he practically tackled you into his embrace, the sudden forces causes you both to spin in each others arms, all while Venti’s heartfelt laugh drowns out all other sounds.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” His voice grew louder with the repetition as a gleeful smile plastered on his face. He reaches back from his embrace, quickly grabbing his lyre and giving it a few test strums.

“The day isn’t over yet! Allow me to serenade you with a song I’ve made especially for you, my muse.”

And with that, you both continued to laugh and sing throughout the night. The sounds of the feverish festivities of you both echoed through Windrise, your love that would last for eons to come, dancing across the wind.

You both truly, couldn’t be happier.

HEADCANONS

Venti always makes sure that he’s always there for you when you aren’t your best mentally or physically. He cudddles you when your sad, listens to you when you’re upset. Overall he may be a loud bard but he’s also a great listener!

And speaking of cuddles he LOVES them. Since youre a dragon, your body temperature is a lot higher than humans, so he loves the warmth close to him. And if you ever decide to cuddle while IN dragon form then he wouldn’t let you leave for a while. (I also headcanon that since he’s a wind spirit, his body temperature isn’t that high so he’s often a little cold, so an S/o with a high body temperature would be perfect for him)

Regardless of if you can fly or not in dragon form, he loves to go on walks with you, and by “walks” I mean YOU do the walking and he just sits on your back. If you CAN fly than he’d be less of a koala and actually fly with you.

(You may have scared a few of the locals but love is love)

If there’s ever a time that you have to fight, either to protect him, yourself or something else, he will always have your back. Of course, him being a Wind Spirit and an Archon he has at least some power but after losing his Gnosis and him being demoted to the least powerful archon, he’s not incredibly strong. But you being a dragon seems to make up for his lack of power. The times you’ve saved him from some lowly fatuus trying to ambush him, he really couldn’t be more thankful.

He’s really into PDA (no surprise there) so kisses, handholding, etc are all commonplace. He's also always bringing you gifts like food. He’s not much of a baker, but he’d try to make anything for you that you’d want. (Just uh… don’t expect it to be anything spectacular)

Gifts he likes are Cider (obvi) and of course, Apples! You’d get him the finest of wines, (that’s totally not from your dragon hoard, because you are TOTALLY not that kind of dragon •-•^) and he would love them more each time.

He would eventually introduce you to Dvailn (it’s his best bud so it’s a given you’d meet him eventually) and Zhongli who he thought you two might have something in common with.

Overall, having a dragon S/o is one of the best things to happen to him (Tied only with that time Diluc accidentally left his wine cellar unlocked) He’s always wanting to learn more about you and loves spending time with you!

#x reader #x male reader #character x male reader #fanfic #character x reader #x female reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #venti x dragon reader #genshin venti #venti x reader #venti x you #venti x y/n #genshin impact x you #requests open

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 6 months

Note

I LOOOOVE Ur Alfie fics. Could u do just general headcannons about being married and starting a family with him? ❤️

Hi bb!!! Im so glad you like them! I hope you enjoy these HCs, I know I kind of went overboard! Maybe I’ll do a continuation?? Maybe I’ll focus on different aspect of life with him? Idk we’ll workshop it. As always, sending all my love 💕💕💕

Married Life with Alfie Solomons - HCs

In planning the wedding, you initially were planning on a small wedding. Nothing too extravagant, just close family and a party at the house.

That’s what you planned anyway. It grew and grew with every family member that “HAD to come treacle!” Both of your families are rather large and extended. Mixed with business associates that had to be invited for sake of peace… it exploded into a 200 person affair.

Despite the fact that Alfie prefers to not be disturbed, it ended up being a grand affair. Drinks flowed. Laughter was raucous. The dancing never stopped! And there were only 3 fights, which Alfie involved himself in only 2 of them. Needless to say, it went rather well!

But your favorite part of the night above all was when you got home. Still giggling and warm from the party, you’re pulled into the parlor by your darling Alfie. Shirt half done, and hair a disaster, he looks so so handsome. His eyes so soft, he puts on the radio, bringing you in close to him, “Mrs. Solomons… would you give an old man a dance?”

And you do. Song after song, twirling around the parlor, enjoying the life that had a new layer of meaning.

Despite Alfie’s insistence that you shouldn’t keep working because, “No love of mine should be lifting a finger.” You kept your job at the distillery as his secretary and head of the jewelry shop. You insisted to Alfie that keeping your job that still made you feel like your own person, not just Alfie’s spouse.

There was something so intimate and special in waking up every morning with him, walking to the office with him, going through the work day, and coming home with him. If Alfie was clingy before, it had only grown worse since your nuptials. He loved having you near. He never wanted you away from his side.

Though the mornings were sweet, the evenings were by far your favorite with Alfie. Coming home, drawing the curtains closed to hide away in your own little oasis of solitude and quiet.

Instead of leaving you to do all the cooking and cleaning for the evening meal like other men of the time, Alfie stays wrapped close to your apron strings. As you craft a soul warming meal, he stays chopping and cutting, washing up the dishes as you go to ensure that the evening is free of any impediments.

Alfie takes Shabbat incredibly seriously. He is on a strict schedule on those days, and actually forbids you from working on Fridays, to let you prepare anything needed for the Sabbath. Many times your family joins you in your home, and Alfie takes the lead in prayers. Though you didn't think it was possible, your heart grows with adoration each time you watch him quietly go through the ritual. Watching his devotion and care to the faith and your people's history reminds you of the type of man he his.

Marriage with Alfie does not come without some arguments. It is Alfie Solomons. Both of you stubborn and passionate, it’s what makes you a formidable force together, but it also brings some… loud outbursts.

It usually is about whether or not he’s being wise in his decisions. But it also comes out when he thinks you’re not being careful. When a jealous flare rises up in him. Or just when he gets a little snippy.

But it doesn’t take much to make up. Once you and Alfie have let it all out, either one of you will go to the other and bridge the gap. When he’s particularly cross, all it takes is for you to find him in his favorite chair. Lean over the back of it, draping your arms across his neck. “I’m so sorry Alfie,” you whisper in his ear, a particular weakness, “I know you’re just looking out for me. Forgive me?” A few kisses in his neck and he’ll be dragging you into his lap, grumbling about how much of a vicious siren you are.

When you’re cross… Alfie pulls out all the theatrics. He comes to your room where you’ve holed up, seething. He gets on his knees, taking your hand in his, “Awe treacle… have pity on an old man. I’m sorry my love, I am. Don’t punish me too harshly now! Please give you husband a kiss yeah? This life is so short! Let’s not go to bed angry my love!”

And of course you forgive him. How can you not when he kisses you so sweetly, and begs so beautifully.

It will be a few years before you and Alfie have children. Alfie was worried that he wouldn’t be a good father due to his age, but in his heart of hearts he wanted little ones. He yearned to play with the kids on the floor with the dogs. To swing them around in the garden. Watch you be an incredible mother. Though he was afraid, you knew he would be the perfect father.

Once you both confessed your mutual desire for kids, it happened shockingly quickly. But is anyone really shocked? Alfie is determined and disciplined above all else.

Once you do get pregnant, Alfie does put his foot down. You are not coming into the office. It is far too dangerous for you to be coming in around all 'that business'. And Alfie heard from someone (he made it up) that working isn't good for birthing or babies.

He benches you for the entire pregnancy, and brings his former housekeeper Sarah out of retirement to help tend to you.

Every night Alfie would come home with something new for you. Brilliant and fragrant flowers. A sweet from the bakery. A new necklace or bracelet that you just had to have. "Growing a baby is hard work love! Especially with my kids! Big ol brutes growing in there eh?"

Whenever you became shy or uncomfortable about your changing body, Alfie would just croon in your ear, "Oh my love, you are absolutely radiant. An angel from God yeah? No no, a goddess. You're an absolute goddess yeah?" He'll rub your swollen feet as you cry, kissing your ankles as you release your stress and worries about the day.

As you can imagine... naming the baby (or babies as he liked to remind you of the possibility) was an incredible ordeal. No name was suitable.

"No no, he'll get hit. If I knew a little boy with that name in school, I would decimate him." "Now treacle that doesn't even sound good with Solomons!" "Mmm no. I don't like the meaning of the name. Not a good omen." "Can't do that name. I killed a man with that name."

After six days!! You both are able to come to an agreement. Joseph for a boy. Chava, after his mother. In the evenings, Alfie takes to reading to the baby, referring to them by both names. "Alfie dearest, there's only one in there!" "No no treacle. I know they're both in there. You may only feel one, but that's because Joseph is just a little shy ain't you my boy? Chava is going to be a little spitfire, just like her mum. They're in there, I know they are."

At night, Alfie pulls you to his side as he always does, with a protective hand splayed over your swollen belly. It's getting harder for you to sleep at night, so many times you lie awake, staring at your husband, running your own hand over your stomach, feeling the kicks and turns.

The prospect of twins is near impossible. But Alfie... he is so certain. And sometimes... sometimes you feel an extra flutter. An extra bit of energy that is almost missed.

The labor is hard. Long. Your mother comes to help along with Sarah and the midwife, and you had never felt pains like that before. Despite Sarah's admonishment, Alfie pushes himself into the room, wanting to be right next to you the entire time. He never leaves your side, brushing the sweat off your brow, kissing your head, reminding you how strong you are.

After 12 hours of labor, Joseph finally makes his appearance in the world. A large baby, with fat cheeks and long limbs. After a few announcing cries, Joseph settles into the arms of his father, fast asleep after his long journey. Alfie rejoices with you, holding up his son with joy, "Joseph! My boy! Welcome my son!"

You smile, a final sense of relief washing over you, until you feel another push coming.

7 minutes later, Chava comes careening into Earth, as loud as the choirs of heaven. Alfie catches Chava, marveling at how such a little body can produce such a sound. As Alfie cleans her face he just whispers, "This one... she will be an opera star."

Alfie joins you in bed once everything is settled. You spend the rest of the evening in and out of sleep. When awake you and Alfie just take turns holding the babies, marveling in how precious they are. How absolutely beautiful they are. While you sleep, Alfie walks around the house with both in his arms, just talking to them.

“Now you might not know this yet my angels… but you have the absolute best mother in the world. No I know, I don’t know how I got to marry her. But she is perfect. The best. We gotta protect her yeah?”

Alfie is the one who gets up in the night. Doesn’t want you to do more than you have to. And you’re already doing so much. Plus, he feels like he missed so much already, waiting till he was older to have a family and all. He doesn’t want to miss a single moment.

Alfie becomes even more soft and tender with you. Each morning he starts his day worshipping you almost. Telling you how much he loves you, how much he loves your children, how much he would give to protect you.

But he does become more paranoid about the dangers surrounding him. There’s two men posted at the door of the house at all times now, and you aren’t to go anywhere without either him or another trusted member of the gang. Though you fought him on it at first, you relented when you saw the palpable fear in his eyes.

He loves to show off the kids. He’s just so proud. He loves how much they look like you. “Better for them eh treacle? Glad they got the more beautiful out of the two.”

And while they did favor your features, they both carried Alfie’s eyes. Both gentle Joseph and powerful Chava carry that roaring ocean behind those dark lashes that brought you to Alfie all those years ago.

As the years go by, you only grow to love each other more and more. And every risk and every trial is worth the beautiful dream you get to have with Alfie.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic

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monstersinthecosmos · 15 days

Note

kacy i wanna know how much of a perv you think daniel is LOL so much fic centers on armand dragging him through an experience *armand* wants. so like what's the ratio of daniel being a freak in his nature (and knowing this about himself) vs armand nurturing this trait into him?

My friend, I’m so glad you asked.

THE THING IS IVE GIVEN THIS A LOT OF THOUGHT and in some ways it’s like, what all of my Devil’s Minion fics are about LOL. And yet! I don’t have a simple answer to this question, the way real questions of nature vs nurture are complicated in the real world in real people!

But let me sketch out a framework of the way I’ve questioned this, and everyone might come to different conclusions and that’s the fun of fandom, because there can exist several thousand versions of Daniel based on the same text! AND I KNOW YOU KNOW THIS STUFF, I HOPE IT DOESN’T COME OFF AS MANSPLAINING LMAO but I’m excited to talk about this topic.

Here’s what we know unequivocally from the text:

Daniel is 20 years old in IWTV.

That’s it, that’s the whole list.

And here’s some fanon that people often try to extrapolate from the text:

💦 That he met Louis at a gay bar. UNCONFIRMED, but I think it’s likely? In the short story the bar is named the Pink Baby, I think that might be a gay bar or a dick reference idk lol.

💦 Whether or not the Pink Baby was a gay bar, he and Louis essentially cruised each other and left the bar together! Daniel has the excuse that he’s hunting for interviews for his job, Louis has the excuse that he’s an apex predator who preys on people, but ? Take this wherever you need to. (Also blah blah Ricean biting=sex symbolisms.)

💦 Was Daniel bisexual outside of the assumption that most of the VC characters are bisexual/omnisexual? The only clue we get is that when he and Armand practice voyeurism, he hooks up with men and women. There’s a lot of interesting information packed into the voyeurism paragraph, like this line: Yet he lay empty afterwards, staring at Armand, resentful, cold. and I’ve seen the “resentful, cold” comment dissected many times in fandom. Is it the general resentment of their whole relationship? Is it because he wants to fuck Armand and not randos? Is it because he only wants the Blood? Does he not consent to being used like a zoo animal? Is he gay and doesn’t want to fuck women? Is he straight (minus the orientation-defying vampire attraction) and doesn’t want to fuck men? I’ve seen all kinds of takes on this LOL. But still, no real definitive answer about his orientation in the text.

💦 What did the “roaming the bars of the world” comment mean? Sometimes I read Anne Rice’s language as being kinda lofty and exaggerated but was he ACTUALLY traveling the WHOLE WORLD or is he hyping up that he trolled bars in the Bay Area? Is he FROM the Bay Area or was it a stop in his travels? He worked for a radio station (not in the book, but mentioned in the short story + The Vampire Companion and The Alphabettery) so did he live here, even if he traveled a lot? Was he wealthy before vampires if he was traveling this much, if you think he was a traveler?

AND AFTER ALL THAT, here’s some extra questions where Daniel is FREE REAL ESTATE that every fan has the freedom to make the fuck up:

💦 How much sexual experience did he have at 20? Do we assume that by default as an Anne Rice character he probably had ample teenage sexual experiences, and if he did, is there a quality over quantity aspect to consider? Is the sex we have as teenagers like, all that to write home about LMAO. Do we really understand kinks yet, or do we need to grow up and gain some perspective first?

💦 As an Anne Rice character, by default, do we assume he & everything else is sexually charged LOL, are the interviews and cruising and taking people home a code for bringing partners home? What percentage of his interviews were also hookups?

💦 When we talk about nature vs nurture for kinkiness, how micro and macro is this? As a fellow Off the Cuffs fan I know you understand the “radioactive spider bite into kink” concept, and some kinks are so specific to our experiences. But BEING KINKY in itself IS nature, isn’t it? I’ve read some sex & kink theory that kink is (psychologically) more like an innate orientation. IE: in the way you can be straight or gay, some people are also by default turned on by being smacked or by whatever paraphilia. Whatever that thing is, the way it takes shape, is the nurture half. But like, many people can have the same experience and 99% of them don’t develop a paraphilia right? So I think that capability exists in kinky folks at all times, especially when so many of the radioactive spider bites are things that people discover in childhood. ANYWAY I RANTED but I say that to say; DANIEL MOLLOY IS A MONSTERFUCKER, IWTV IS THE PROOF THAT HE IS A MONSTERFUCKER. IT WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME.

So I bring up all those questions to encourage everyone to make up their own story with this, but I’ll tell you where I personally landed and how I approach it in my fics!!!

The Daniel in MY OWN fics is 20, single child, estranged from his parents, dropped out of college because he didn’t have ADHD support and was struggling, bisexual and promiscuous! I wonder if he went through that like college freshman thing where he got out of his parents house for the first time and partied a little too hard because he COULD! I like to read “bars of the world” as an exaggeration, I like to think he was a normal guy NOT globe hopping, sticking to the Bay Area, maybe he was out there for college, and guess what! There’s a thriving gay liberation culture there, so he finds some safe spaces to experiment with that!

However, I think the text leaves space to think he didn’t have a lot of close friends, or wasn’t close with his family, due to the way that he simply ✨fucks off ✨ after IWTV. NOW, that’s just me! Because there’s potential here for a TRAGEDY of people looking for him or grieving him! But idk I just like thinking that he was already on the outs and the interview pushed him over the edge.

So I ask like, does the 20 year old have a ton of kink experience? Is he good at sex? WHAT DOES RESENTFUL, COLD MEAN? Was he celibate during the chase years? Are the voyeurism sessions the first time he’s had sex since his old life? Even if he had random hookups during the chase years, was this qualitatively good sex? Can you truly get into good BDSM on a hookup or do you need a trusted partner? (This is subjective, idk, but!)

Also, how much kink is theoretical and private (to masturbate to) vs stuff you actually try? Especially if we believe that kink is nature, someone isn’t less kinky if they’re celibate, the way someone isn’t less gay if they’re celibate, or even a virgin. As Daniel becomes more and more obsessed with vampires, and with Armand, does it take over how he jerks off? Does he think about getting bitten? HE LIKES SNUGGLING WITH DEAD THINGS.

So like, there IS an element of Daniel being the unwilling witness of Armand’s rapidly shifting hyperfixations, and it’s natural that fandom pervs would extend that to sex acts and kinks. I LOVE IT, yes! It makes sense.

But when you say like, which one of them is in charge, I wonder if it’s relevant if we assume Daniel enjoys it. (Does he? Would he? Resentful, cold?)

Here’s some points that come to mind when I imagine it as purely Armand’s doing:

💦 People sometimes misunderstand BDSM dynamics when it comes to power and control, because BDSM is a consensual fantasy between two adults. The sub is just as in control, because they allow it. In that sense: Do we believe Armand respects Daniel’s consent? Would he force Daniel to participate if he wasn’t enjoying himself?

🩸 (How much can we compare this to Venice and how Armand was prepared for vampirism? I’m putting this in parentheses bc I’m putting a pin in this one, I CANNOT ADD A SUB-ESSAY INTO THIS POST ABOUT COMPARING VENICE TO DEVILS MINION but thinking of this too. Returning to the under-negotiated kink in Venice and how much is diegetic to the text, how does experiencing a spectrum of sexuality benefit someone’s last years alive ((sub-parentheses: does Armand flip-flop on turning Daniel as much as Marius did with Armand, does Armand subliminally know he’ll turn Daniel one day, does he go through these experiences as a precursor to turning Daniel eventually?)) are these experiences more for Armand to process the way he was groomed for asexual immortality vs being purely selfless and for Daniel’s benefit?)

💦 Armand uses Daniel as his usher into the modern age, and is it fair to assume he could sense Daniel’s kinkiness and knew that this was the person for him?

💦 How dubious is Daniel’s consent here? How addicted to Armand’s Blood is he by the time they start fucking around? Is he already within the throes of Ricean Omnisexuality where he’s down for whatever? Does the Blood influence this as well? Is there a secret subliminal violence creeping into your body when you’ve been drinking it again and again? What about less violent kinks, like your feederism fic? Does the Blood encourage all types of excess and consumption???

But if DANIEL is the driving force here, I still must consider:

💦 He meets Armand and his life essentially ends when he’s 20 years old. Was he really self-aware of his kinks? Did he know himself very well sexually yet?

💦 While exploring kinks can be mutually beneficial by sating Armand’s need for WEIRD HUMAN STUFF, maybe it IS something Daniel wants. It’s something he’s missing out on, because he checked out of regular human life when he was 20. Like, everyone’s different, so, I’m not saying that people can’t be sexually articulate at 20, but I know I fucking wasn’t! And I personally never fucked anyone that age who was good at it LMAO. So like how old would Daniel have been before he experimented enough to really know what he liked, and how much of him getting to know his sexuality involved Armand during the next decade?

💦 And this ties into Armand being his sugar daddy! That’s canon! Armand is his sugar daddy! If Daniel, at 28 years old, starts lamenting “I wish I’d gotten the chance to try watersports when I still had a normal life :( “ wouldn’t Armand have arranged that for him?

🩸 (Again let’s talk about Venice and what did Armand learn there about being the vampire lover, how much does he process and repeat on Daniel, and for whose benefit?)

💦 If Daniel is an innately kinky person, and realizes as he’s approaching 30 that he never really got to explore it properly, wouldn’t Armand usher him through that experience? Even if Armand didn’t plan to turn him, I wonder if he saw the window of Daniel’s mortal experience closing, maybe he worried that this is the type of thing people need to be wild about while they’re still so young. And outside of stigmatizing Daniel's age, it's also about how he was becoming less and less healthy, dying of alcoholism at 32, so there was a small window here for them to have sex adventures.

So basically, I’m saying that the nature half feels very much like Daniel being a monsterfucker, the nurture half is the actual experiences he got to have. And I don’t think he’d be in this situation in the first place if he wasn’t a bit of a monsterfucker, and wasn't a innately into danger and pain. Like, we don’t get a TON of examples but Gretchen and Babette didn’t try to fuck vampires! We know that vampires give humans the heebie jeebies! What kind of sick fuck is into that?!?!?!?

I don’t really have one single answer here. When it comes to the large library of kinks I think either of them can be blamed, and I also think it 100% makes sense to use Armand as a vehicle to write fic about them as if they’re another collection of human oddities for him to explore. But even using Armand’s weird bullshit to process that doesn’t mean it’s not mutually beneficial, and I think it gets into a fuzzier area that’s up to the writer when it comes to their take on the relationship, how dubious the consent is, how much do they actually like each other and get along? Can it be mutually beneficial in the end even if one person is driving? (see: the conversation about the second whipping scene in TVA and how it works out in the end.) Is it something they have fun agreeing to and negotiating in advance?

I can totally see how someone might write this as a fun thing that they talk about beforehand as easily as it could be Armand forcing mystery adventure on Daniel and suddenly he’s tied up in some shitty apartment in Hells Kitchen with some man pissing on him, and did he ever even reveal this kink to Armand or did Armand pull it out of his head?

The ship dynamic is so fucked up and coercive and resentful and toxic, even though there is real love here, so there’s this whole spectrum to use when you build your fanworks and headcanons!!!!!!! AND LIKE

IF IT’S COERCIVE AND FUCKED UP, DOES IT DRIVE THEM FURTHER APART OR BRING THEM CLOSER TOGETHER? IS DANIEL RESENTFUL AND COLD AND DOES THIS CAUSE FIGHTS? IS THIS A WAY FOR THEM TO PROCESS SOME OF THEIR COLDNESS AND RESENTMENT BECAUSE THEY AREN’T GOOD COMMUNICATORS? DO THEY DO BETTER AFTER THESE SESSIONS AND FEEL CLOSER BECAUSE THEY BROKE THROUGH SOMETHING NEITHER OF THEM KNEW HOW TO SAY?

Gosh idk.

Anyway I apologized in the beginning for mansplaining but I also want to apologize for this non answer LMFAO. I hope it doesn’t feel like a cop-out to not have a real answer, it’s just that I think there is such a rich context with a MENAGERIE of possibility !!!!!!!

#kink meta #deep ass thoughts about vampires #devil's minion #armand #daniel molloy #armand/daniel #vampire chronicles #am i writing meta on saturday night while im babysitting yes i am

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meiliarotten · 10 months

Text

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 4: Vocal (Voice Kink)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Sniper x Fem!Reader

Summary: Yet another one with no summary. This was the first Sniper fic I ever wrote

Tags: Voice kink, begging

Word Count: 1.6k

The Masterlist

There were many things that you loved about Sniper. There was the professionalism with which he handled his job, and his drop dead accuracy on the battlefield, both of which had initially attracted you to him. Eventually you learned to love more intimate aspects of him, the scars that decorated his body, the way he growled low in his throat when he was on top of you, the gentle touch of calloused hands as the two of you basked in the afterglow while he soothed you with soft spoken praise in that deep, whispery tone.

If you had to pick a favorite thing about Sniper, it would probably be that; his voice. There was no denying that Sniper’s voice was, to put it bluntly, very attractive. God knows how many difficult situations he had managed to charm his way out of with words alone. You imagined the number was pretty high. It wasn’t even just the accent. It was the confidence, the volume, the words he chose- it all came together to create something incredibly erotic.

But there was one other aspect of that voice. One that only you were privy to, and as such, it was the one you valued most of all.

That was what you were after tonight, with the two of you safe in the privacy of Sniper’s van. You stroked his cock nice and slow, teasing him by refusing to pick up the pace. He whined before catching himself, clenching his jaw tightly to keep his noises at bay, but you still noticed.

“Does it feel good?” You asked with a chuckle, hoping to hear more lewd sounds from that alluring voice.

“Damn, love. I know what you’re trying to do to me,” he said through clenched teeth, determined not to give you the satisfaction of hearing him moan.

“Can you blame me? I love hearing those noises you make. After all, I’m the only one who gets to hear them,” you whispered as you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, letting out a small laugh as his stubble tickled your face.

Sniper looked as if he was about to retort, but cut himself off with a sudden moan as you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Before he could clamp his mouth shut again, you sped up your strokes. The torrent of groans and soft curses was music to your ears.

“Yeah, just like that,” you sighed, admiring the sight. You stopped, receiving a frustrated groan and a sour expression in response. That look didn’t last long, quickly shifting to one of eagerness as you moved downward, licking your lips as you took in the sight of Sniper’s cock, precum beading at the tip and threatening to spill down his length.

You grinned, knowing that this was bound to draw some good sounds from him. You began by running your tongue along the underside before taking him fully into your warm mouth. Your hands rested on his thighs, and you felt him tremble with the effort it took not to thrust into your throat.

That pattern of trembling and moaning continued, increasing in intensity until you felt Sniper’s hand weave through your hair, tugging it softly. You got the message, immediately pulling back and looking up at him in confusion.

“Darling, stop. I don’t want to come yet,” he said, breathing hard as he tried to regain his composure. You pouted at him in mock disappointment.

“But you sound so damn good when you do,” you groaned, moving up to press a quick kiss to his lips. You saw the flush in his cheeks as you did so and grinned, knowing that it was in response to what you had just said.

You continued to press your lips against his, and it wasn’t long before the kisses turned rough. For a few moments, everything was a blur. The passage of time had escaped you, and at some point Sniper had managed to pin you beneath him, taking advantage of your gasps to slip his tongue into your mouth. You finally pulled away with a moan when you felt him slip a hand into your pants, the tips of his fingers teasing you below.

“See that, doll? You make some wonderful sounds yourself,” he said, the smirk he displayed making you feel weak, but not in a bad way. With a blush, you pushed your pants and undergarments down, getting them out of the way and allowing him full access to you.

Sniper hummed in appreciation and began to tease your entrance, rubbing circles around it and getting you nice and wet before finally pushing a finger in. You moaned as he thrust the single digit into you, and it wasn’t long before you were ready for a second. His fingers were long and he reached your g-spot with relative ease. You nearly screamed as he pressed more firmly, pulsing his fingers against the sensitive area repeatedly.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous, riding on my fingers like that,” Sniper growled, making a point to move close to your ear before speaking. You moaned at the dominant tone and the way he began to nip at your neck, decorating the skin with small bruises as he laid claim to you.

“You don’t just love hearing me moan and whine, do you love? You like hearing my praise too. I see the way you shudder and whimper when you hear it,” he said, continuing to read you like an open book and making you feel deliciously vulnerable as he did so.

You didn’t even get a chance to respond. Your attention was brought elsewhere when Sniper suddenly removed his fingers, earning a whine which quickly turned into a startled gasp when he flipped you over onto your stomach. You practically felt him looming over you, leaning in close to your ear.

“And I know you love it when I whisper in your ear like this, feeling my breath against your neck,” he said, running his fingers down your back. You felt a shiver run through your whole body.

You brought yourself up onto your hands and knees, feeling Sniper’s cock press up against your ass, still just as hard as before. Arousal continued to build between your legs as you thought about how needy he must still be.

“Please,” you whispered, moving your ass against his crotch to entice him further. “Fuck me!”

“Ah, there’s another sound I love to hear from you,” Sniper said. You could practically hear the self-confident smirk in his voice. “The sound of you begging for me .”

He entered you quickly. You were aroused enough that there was no discomfort. He wasted no time, immediately pounding into you at a rapid speed. He leaned over you, fucking you like an animal while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The experience sent your head spinning.

“God, you feel so bloody good,” Sniper groaned, practically leaning on you as he tried to maintain his breakneck pace. “You’re so gorgeous under me like this, taking my cock so well.”

You bucked back to meet his thrusts, feeling your orgasm approaching surprisingly quick as you listened to him heap praise onto you. His moans began to dip into that familiar half growl that you loved. It made the whole ordeal seem more feral and much more intense.

“Sniper, I’m close,” you said, your hands balling into fists as you felt yourself losing control. That was until Sniper’s pace slowed.

“Beg.”

“What?” You asked with a whine, trying to crane your neck to look back at Sniper, but it was no use when he was topping you from behind like this. You couldn’t see his expression, and it made his commands all the more intimidating.

“You heard me, doll. Beg,” he growled, sounding somewhat annoyed at having to repeat himself. “ I want to hear that pretty voice of yours plead for release.”

You shivered. To think, at the beginning of this whole ordeal, it was Sniper who was being teased, whining and moaning at your hands and tongue. You couldn’t help but admire the versatility it must take to go from that to this perfect picture of a rough, demanding lover.

“Fuck, Sniper-” A hard thrust to your g-spot made you stammer incoherently for a moment until you finally got your bearings again. “Mundy, please! Please let me come!”

“God, you’re irresistible. Such a good girl, fuck yes-” Sniper’s words trailed off into unintelligible curses and moans, his hips moving unevenly as he felt his own climax threatening to overtake him. “I’m close too, love. Go on and come. I want to hear you scream for me.”

You did just that, moaning shakily as you let your orgasm finally overwhelm you, riding it out to the sound of Sniper growling in your ear. He continued to moan in an almost feral manner as he finished as well. You listened intently, taking in every sound he made as he came.

It wasn’t long before the adrenaline began to wear off, and you found yourself trembling beneath Sniper as you began to lose strength. The two of you were left exhausted, and you collapsed atop of each other. The two of you laid there, entwined with each other, a tangle of limbs, chests rising and falling with labored breaths. Sniper had practically fallen on top of you but you were too spent to care. The weight was actually comforting in a way. It made you feel safe. Your eyes were just beginning to drift shut when you heard Sniper speak.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me, sheila. In a few minutes I’ll be up and ready to go again.”

“Oh really?” You said, tired, but also interested. You forced yourself to open your eyes, seeing his sly, grinning face looking down at you.

“I ain’t done yet, not by a long shot” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips against your ear, taking full advantage of how much you loved that voice of his.

#merc x reader #minors dni #tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #tf2 smut #smut #sniper x reader #sniper tf2 #sniper team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress sniper #team fortress #mick mundy

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darkhairedmenrule · 8 months

Note

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO its tony

man

would you be oh so kind as to make an

papa's x gn reader with fluff :)))))))))))

pretty please with gay men on top

Comfort time with the Papas

These are just little comfort headcanons that I came up with, this should be gn! reader because I don't mention any pronouns. I hope you like them Tony <3 All of these are romantic but if anyone wants a platonic or spicy version let me know. Please be gentle, this is my first Ghost fic. Enjoy!

Primo- With Primo, I imagine you two often peacefully coexist in his garden. Whether it be that he is teaching you how to garden and the differences in all of his plants, or you already know about gardening and he trusts you to help. These early mornings or evenings allow you both to just spend time together without having to fill the silence. You always make sure that he actually takes breaks and doesn't push himself too far. You guys only work for maybe an hour or so, nothing strenuous, and after you walk back to your shared rooms hand in hand. After you guys clean up, sharing sweet kisses or hugs depending on what you are comfortable with, he asks you if you want a drink. If you are a tea person, he makes you an absolutely lovely cup of tea ( from leaves that he grew himself, we love a girlboss). If you aren't a tea person he will make you anything that you want, even learn how to make your favorite drink. With your drinks, you cuddle either in bed with a good book or watch a movie that you both like. All in all, you both enjoy a sweet calm evening after your long often hectic days. He always is generous with his affection, whether that be kisses and cuddling or letting you talk and being there for you physically and emotionally. Primo just wants his darling to be happy and healthy and will do anything to make that happen( even if you have to convince him to get a TV or any new technology in his room). He is simply grateful and honored that he gets to share these sweet moments with you and to let his heart be full of love and affection. Primo is a sweetheart and I just wanna kiss his forehead <3

Secondo- With Secondo, I imagine that he is used to filling his free time with carnal acts of all kinds, which is perfectly fine but we are not focusing on that today. I think that like his older brother, Secondo would crave domestic normalcy and would never pass it up. I imagine you found out about his hobby after he realized that you were interested in more than one night with him. I can see you finding his paintings and asking him if it would be okay if you joined him, and of course, he would want you to join him. He may be more stoic in some aspects than his brothers, but this man has so much affection to give you. Regardless of your skill level, he is going to treasure any and every painting you make with him. I can imagine him either keeping them in your shared room or creating a little gallery that he keeps on his phone( yes he has one but you might have to help him with it sometimes). After you guys have decided to finish painting one evening, you guys clean up and he offers to make you a drink. If you aren't a big fan of alcohol, he has different mocktails, Italian sodas, or anything else you would like. You two would probably cuddle up on the couch or in bed, either enjoying each other's company with a good book, listening to music, or maybe even a movie. Secondo is happy to share the evening with you in any way that you want. He simply just loves to bask in the sweet affection that you two share and remind himself that he deserves this love <3

Terzo- I imagine that quality time with Terzo can be many things. Like his older brother, he enjoys carnal acts, but also just existing together. I imagine that you two would spend some of your free time baking together. Terzo may be clumsy at times but he enjoys baking, especially if he has a personal taste tester. He would love to have you help him or just simply watch him enjoy his process. He loves to fill the time by asking you about your day, what you are excited or upset about, and anything that you would like to talk about. During all of it, he just has a sweet love drunk smile on his face. When whatever he was making is finally ready for you both to eat, he makes sure to give you the first bite, and he wants you to be honest about the taste, texture, and overall experience. He is extremely interested in your thoughts and loves to hear you in general. He always makes sure to take note of your criticism or praise so that if he ever recreates or remakes anything it is the same quality or better. After you two have shared your little treat, he likes to make you a hot chocolate. I know he might not seem like the type, but I know in my heart that he enjoys hot cocoa. Makes it from scratch every time and uses the same recipe that Primo used when he and Secondo were little. Adds any toppings that you like to yours and insist that he made it with love. You both cuddle and enjoy your delicious hot cocoa with either him reading you a book, you reading him one, enjoying some music, or a movie that you enjoy. He adores these evenings where you both can be yourselves, with no expectations or chores to do. You both just get to be close and love each other and know that you are cherished by your beloved Papa <3

Copia- With Copia, I just have to mention his beloved rat babies. If you are in love with Copia I just imagine you spending the little downtime he allows himself to be with his sweet fur babies. You two are just sitting with them all, giving them the love, treats, and attention that each little cutie deserves. He loves this, he gets to not only decompress and relax with his Amore but he also gets to be with his beloved pets. The rats all have their personalities and love to run around you both, so happy that you are home. If you wear hoodies or =clothing with bigger pockets they love to crawl in and take little naps with their beloved parents because congratulations you are the co-parent to these little rats. After they have their food, cuddles, zoomies, and a few snacks they go back into their cage to rest and cuddle with each other. With your kids all in bed, you both get ready for bed yourselves. You either help Copia with his Papal paints if he hasn't already taken them off or maybe take a quick shower together or separately. Either way, when you both are ready to relax for the evening you grab some of Copia's beloved Juice boxes and relax in bed. Whether your evening ends with playing some video games, watching him play or you both playing, watching a movie, or just cuddling in bed before you sleep, Copia reminds you just how much he adores you. This is where he can let himself be Copia, not just Papa and he is so grateful that you see the real him. He loves to spend his evenings with his favorite person, all cuddled up and cozy in bed, knowing that he is loved and adored.<3

#Copia x reader #Secondo x reader #Primo x reader #Terzo x reader #Comfort #Primo x gn reader #Secondo x gn reader #Terzo x gn reader #Copia x gn reader #Cardinal Copia x reader #Papa Emeritus i x reader #Papa Emeritus ii x reader #Papa Emeritus iii x reader #Papa Emeritus iv x reader #x gn reader #the band ghost #papa x reader #Darkhairedmenrule fics #my fic

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goaways-stuff · 2 years

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ABC's of Sex with Steven Grant

pairing: Steven Grant x gn! reader (mentions Marc and Jake x reader)

warnings: SMUT. LOTS OF IT. slight switch Steven and Reader, professor kink, hand kink, bondage, virgin! Steven, mentions of mental illness and DID, I believe there's some canon level violence, read at your own risk

Summary: A headcanon style fic about the diff aspects of sex with Steven Grant

A/N: I do not have DID myself, so of there is anything that I get wrong/ any harmful stereotypes please call me out. I have done research on DID and do my best to keep it both accurate to real life as well as the show. But I can still get things wrong, so don't hesitate to point anything out :) I also apologize for any writing mistakes

dividers by @firefly-graphics

A=Aftercare

(what he's like after the deed)

Steven is the king of aftercare. He's littering wherever he can reach with kisses, praising you, thanking you. "Fuck, darling, that was amazing, you're amazing," He'd say. If the two of you are up for it, he'll draw a warm bath. You'd bathe each other off, trading compliments and "I love you's." He would get you a little snack and a drink if you wanted, brushing light kisses over any marks he made, a silent apology even though he knew you loved the marks. If neither of you felt like taking a bath, he'd eventually pull himself away from you and return with two warm washcloths as well as a dry one. He'd clean himself off, then you before drying the both of you. He'd leave once more to put the washcloths in the hamper and return for a final time with water for the both of you. He'd slip back in bed with you, holding you tight, as if he was scared you'd go. You returned his praises from earlier, and the two of you traded many "I love you's" before drifting off to sleep.

B=Body Part

(favorite of his and favorite of yours)

Before meeting you, Steven didn't really have a favorite body part. He didn't really have an accurate picture of himself. He knew what he looked like, but things were just off. After meeting you, he'd truly come to sometimes love his looks. Specifically, his hands. Mostly due to your fascination with them. You'd stare at them as he talked, always holding them or fidgeting with his fingers, and he always let you. He also loved how his hands looked roaming your body, squeezing you ass, or bringing you to pleasure inside you. Honorable mention of his curls. He loves when you play with them and put them up into funny hairstyle and pull at them with his head between your legs.

Steven doesn't think he could answer what his favorite body part of yours is. If he was asked, he'd probably go on a long ramble, saying different body parts and the things he liked about each of them. Nope, he definitely could never choose. He loved your tummy, whether it be chubby or skinny or ripped- it didn't matter to him. He loved your thighs, how they squeezed his head when he would give you head. He loved to lie on his back and use them as pillows while reading on his bed or on the couch. He loves your eyes and how they sparkle when you tell a joke or talk about something your passionate about. He loves your smile, and he loves that very often, he's the cause of that smile. You neck, shoulders, ass, hips, nose, hair- you were perfect in every way to him. He could never ever choose.

C=Cum

(where, how much, what he's like, etc)

Steven is the most vocal of the three when he cums. He moaning, grunting, whining. He's praising you for how good you make him feel, how perfect you are. He'll cum wherever you want him to. Inside, in your mouth, on your face, chest, thighs- wherever. He loves all of them. He cums a lot, like you had never seen a bigger load. He was a bit embarrassed at first, but when you swallowed it all down after sucking him off, he actually became quite proud of it.

D=Dirty Secret

(what was he hiding from you until you found out yourself?)

He likes being in control sometimes. Steven spent his whole life being seen as a pushover, as someone people could walk all over, so when given the chance he will show you how much of a pushover he isn't. Don't get him wrong, he loves when you're more in control sometimes, but others he just wants to fuck you until you're crying his name. He wants to leave his marks on you. Who would ever guess that soft, ever so sweet Steven could be so dominant in bed?

E=Experience

(how much/ little does he have?)

You were Steven's first actually, he had been on some dates, but never anything past a makeout sesh. The first time was a bit awkward, but he was so eager to please you. He would ask what made you feel good, let you guide his hand, whatever he could do to learn. He caught on quickly, Steven was a fast learner after all.

F=Favorite Position

(self explanatory)

It's depends, if you're feeling more in control that day, he loves having you on top of him. Being able to see all of you, he loves being able to grab your ass and guide your hips down on him, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips up into yours. If he is feeling more in control, he'll go for the good ole missionary. He just feels so close to you that way, it makes him feel in control. He can pin your arms down and fuck you a proper way into next Sunday. He can reach down and pleasure you more with his hand. He loves how you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. He also loves seeing your face when you cum. Truly, what gets him off is you getting off. He relishes in your pleasure.

G=Goofy

(is he more goofy or serious in bed?)

Steven has definitely shared some more goofy moments with you in bed, much more than Marc and Jake ever have combined. He's a bit clumsy and has taken a few falls, gotten clothes stuck, and other moments that honestly embarrass him, but make you fall all the more in love with your favorite dork.

H=Hair

(does the carpet match the drapes?)

Since they all share the same body, it's the same for all of them, keep it trimmed and neat- only shaving for special occasions (anniversaries, birthdays, valentine's)

I=Intamacy

(what is his version of intamacy?)

Steven is the most intimate of the three. While Marc and Jake have come a long way, Steven has always had a deep intamacy with you. He's honest about things, wants to share all of what happened to him- tell you everything, and you do the same with him. He loves making love to you telling and showing you how much you mean to him. How much he loves and adores you. He loves hearing every little detail about your day, he'll read you to sleep, come up behind you while you're cooking and rant about how amazing you are. His intamacy extends much beyond the bedroom as it's something he's always longed for.

J=Jack Off

(how, when, where, why does he jack off, if he does?)

Before you, Steven was used to many lonely night with his hand. He would jack off sometimes to keep himself awake, imagining the touch of someone else there with him who loved him despite of what he thought at the time was his sleeping disorder. Now he has you, he doesn't need to jack off- at least by himself. Steven is a pretty big fan of mutual masterbation, but he can't ever keep his hands to himself for too long.

K=Kinks

(what's he into?)

Steven had never really explored his kinks until he met you. He discovered his praise kink, he loved hearing how good he was doing and he returned the same to you. He loves having his hair pulled and sometimes even being tied up. When he's in control, he found out he's what's called a "soft dom." He uses your own pleasure to dominate you, he asks nicely for you to do things for him. He had to admit, he loved seeing you tied up as well, completely at his mercy. He would tell you how pretty you looker for him. He would pleasure you until tears were streaming down your face. "Doing so good for me, baby, so so good. I'm so lucky to have such a sweet little angel, yeah?" Honestly, out of the three of them, you were the best for Steven. To Marc and Jake, you were a big time brat. Smarting off to them, directly disobeying their orders in order to get punished. But with Steven, he just always asked so nicely, making you easily bend to his will. Marc and Jake were honestly a but jealous sometimes about how easily you obeyed Steven, but they also wouldn't trade your brattiness for the world.

L=Location

(where's his favorite place to do it?)

Steven would do it nearly anywhere with you, but his favorite is just the plain old bed in his apartment. It's comfortable, easy to access, and he can fall asleep cuddling you after the deed in it. Though he has to admit, he loved fucking you spread out for him on his desk after you gave him head while he was stuck in a book for an ungodly amount of time.

M=Motivation

(what gets him going?)

Seeing you in his clothes. He had no idea how much that would turn him on. It had been laundry day for you, and you were out of clothes. Lucky for you, Steven's had just come out of the dryer. They were warm and smelled fresh and you found yourself throwing a sweater on with only your last pair of clean underwear. When Steven came home, he swore he nearly creamed his pants at the sight of you. That night, not much sleep was acquired by either of you, and ever since then Steven is constantly letting you wear his clothes, almost to the point where you no longer wear yours.

N=No

(what are his limits?)

Steven could never actually hurt you. He knows that some pain feels good to you, and he's more than willing to do that, but anything to harm you is a no for him.

O=Oral

(is he a giver? a taker?)

Steven is a giver. 100%. He will stay down there as long as you let. Like you will literally have to pull him off of you. He loves feeling your thighs on either side of his head, bringing you pleasure with his mouth. He loves hearing you moan and feeling your body twist and squirm with pleasure. As much as he loves the sights and feelings of you giving him head, he loves giving it to you more.

P=Pace

(how fast, slow, rough, or gentle is he?)

He will go at whatever pace you ask him to. If it's one of those nights where you just need to feel each other abd be in each other's embrace, he'll take it slower, make sweet love to you, show you how much he loves you. Bit as soon as you ask him to go harder or faster, he's right there with you, fucking you into next Sunday.

Q=Quickie

(how's feel about them?)

He's not the biggest fan of them as he prefers to savor the moment and spend as long with you as the both of you can take it, he knows that sometimes a quickie is all either of you can take or have time for. A quickie before a mission also always boosts his confidence.

R=Risk

(is he willing to get a little risky during the frisky?)

He's willing to do nearly anything for you and that includes taking risks in bed. Though, if things don't go exactly how planned, He's profusely apologizing, even if it wasn't his fault. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, love Are you okay? Shit, I'm sorry. Lemme help you, yeah? You alright?" No matter how many times you tell him that you're okay and that it wasn't his fault he keeps checking in on you, and you can't help but feel so loved by your sweet boy.

S=Stanima

(How long can he go for?)

It completely depends. The first time you had sex, he came in his pants while you dry humped him. He just couldn't help it, you felt so good and looked so hot, it just happened. But he can also stave off his own pleasure and release for quite awhile. He'll work you up and make you cum until you see starts with his mouth, with his hands before finally sinking into. He loves to edge the both of you, stopping when either of you get close until you're both begging for release.

T=Toys

(does he own any for himself? for you?)

He never had any until he met you. With you though, he loves using them to aid in pleasuring you. Whether it be vibrators, cock rings for you or himself, dildos, literally anything you want- he will get it for you.

U=Unfair

(is he a tease?)

Steven is unfair without always knowing it. He talks with his hands and you can't help but watch as you remember how they feel inside you. He'll roll up his sleeves revealing his gorgeous forearms. Turn around and show off that gorgeous ass. He's such a turn on and most of the time he has no idea until you're literally jumping his bones about to lose your mind over how horny you are.

V=Volume

(how loud or quiet is he during the hanky panky?)

Steven is the loudest of the three, especially after learning how much his noises turn you on. You loves sucking him off and hearing his cries of pleasure. His whines of your name. You loved making him so desperate that he would finally lose some of his gentlemanliness and fuck you until you screamed his name. He will praise you with how good you feel. "Oh fuck, you feel so good, love. So good for me, yeah? So fuckin tight around me. Feel good for you?" You're nodding your head frantically as your words have just become swears, pleas, and Steven's name. "Look at you, look so good like this. Fucked dumb, huh?" Steven took notes from Jake and Marc on dirty talking.

W=Wildcard

(Random headcanon about him. Go!)

Steven has a major professor kink. You'll come up to his desk while he's in the middle of his studies of ancient Eygpt, asking him innocently to tell you what he's reading about. That will start one of his long rants. He's using his hands to talk and there's a sparkle in his eyes that's only there when he's talking about something he holds so dearly. It always starts off innocent, but his ramblings of his vast knowledge of Egypt just turn you on and at some point you're looking at him with hungry eyes. You move your hand to his thigh, rubbing it gently as you nod your head along to whatever he's saying, no longer able to actually pay attention. You breathing becomes more labored as you watch is hands, thinking about feeling them all of your body, inside you. When he finally stops for a breath, you take your chance. You look up at him with doe eyes. "Professor Grant, I just don't think I'm getting this part," You say, pointing at whatever book is on his desk. "Do you think we could go over it again?" After that, it's over for Steven. He has you bent over the desk, reading it out loud to him as he fucks you. He doesn't let you cum until you finish the chapter or whatever and makes you start over everytime you stop for an extended period of time or just fuck up a pronunciation of a god's name.

X=X-ray

(what's going on down there?)

Steven is big and thick. Marc is Jewish, so he's most likely circumcised. His cock is a few shades darker than the rest of his tanned skin and the tip is almost purple-ish (especially when he's aroused)

Y=Yearning

(how horny is he?)

Steven is better at hiding it, but he is a horny bastard just like Marc and Jake. He's almost embarrassed every time he gets aroused, but he can't help it around you. All you have to do is walk into a room and he's staring at you in awe, as if you were the most beautiful piece of artwork in existence. And to him- you are. He just can't believe he got so lucky. He's just lil ol' Steven, and you- you're YOU. So yes, he will take you whenever and where ever you want it.

Z=Zzz

(how fast does he fall asleep after the deed?)

Even though it usually wears him slap out, he keeps himself awake for you. He's determined to make sure you're fully taken care of before he succumbs to sleep. Hell- he'll even wait for you to fall asleep before he finally does. This man is the master of keeping himself awake, no matter how tired he is. You of course, reassure him over and over that you're all good, that he needs his rest, but he's always doing just one last thing for you.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x male reader #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven x reader #moon knight #moon boys #moon knight headcanon #moon knight smut #mr knight #mr knight x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you

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madameducyberversailles · 11 months

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Doing Mehndi/Henna with the 141+Los Vaqueros

In honour of the past Eid (why do I have so many undone Eid fics on my main) I will be making a set of headcannons for Eid even though it was a month ago because I want to and time is an illusion. Also, reader is South Asian-coded, and I’ll use gender-neutral pronouns but it’s kind of fem leaning due to the cultural aspect but all are welcome!!

(Also if I didn’t spell anything right please let me know I’m just writing this in a hurry I am so sorry)

Warnings: mentions of violence and war, foreign language use.

Doing Mehndi/Henna for the 141 + Los Vaqueros

There was some downtime in the base after a successful mission just a few days ago, meaning that everyone was trying to relax after the harrowing mission that took so much time and effort and caused so much pain to everyone. Finally, it was time for some rest and relaxation, and the base’s atmosphere was a little more calm than the frantic hustle just days ago. Funny how it all changes so fast, but it is what it is, and probably for the better.

You sat at a table with a small conical tube, piping a brown paste out onto your skin, using the tube as a calligrapher uses a pen, or an artist uses a paintbrush, to draw floral and fractal designs upon your skin. The reason you were being so artistic today? The downtime was just perfect, right at the end of Ramadan, meaning that it was time to celebrate not only the mission but also the completion of a religious month of fasting. The paste would dry and leave a natural, temporary tattoo on your hands, and as you painstaking created the masterpiece, people would stop by and see what you were doing.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He sees you putting some kind of paste on your arm and is...confused.

‘Bloody hell is that’ the first thing into his mind and out of his mouth, actually. Mans is big confuzzled

You tell him its Mehndi or Henna, and he...doesn’t know. Wasn’t really exposed to different cultures as a kid, and difference was not seen as something to be celebrated.

Is very curious. He appreciates the time and art, as he has tattoos that took time to make. He’s interested in what’s going on cause it’s you and he cares about what you do and how you are, shhhh

He has no idea how it works. The Hell you mean, it’s a tattoo? Doesn’t believe you. What do you mean this paste will leave a temporary tattoo? Is curious.

Will use this as an opportunity to sit with you and learn about you

If you explain it to him, he’ll not say anything and at first you think it’s because he’s disinterested, but he is actually quite focused on what you tell him and is absorbing the information. He is learning the history behind the art and like his tattoos, he has an appreciation for wearable art.

He likes watching you sketch out the designs on your skin. It’s nice to see flowers and leaves and birds and pretty things after all the blood in the military.

He will ask questions about what kind of designs, the longevity of the art, and if they’re restricted to a certain aesthetic. Will ask only a few questions, but its because he mostly likes just watching you do your thing. It’s satisfying to see it.

If you ask to do some on his arm, there is a 50/50 chance he’ll let you, because on the one hand its time consuming to do on him and wait for it to dry and he’s a busy man most of the time, but on the other its wearable art and looks relaxing. Whether or not he does let you depends on how close you guys are.

But if you hand him the mehndi tube and allow him to draw something on you...your friendship points in his mental scoreboard just skyrocket. You’re letting him make something for you to wear on your arm? Like a tattoo? You’ll wear a design a la Riley? He is willing to do anything for you now.

He’s not the best at drawing but he does have good control over his hand-eye coordination, so his designs are not that bad. He just needs time to decide what the hell to draw on you...give him ideas please. He will need your help with the tube as this man has sausages for fingers, and he’s trying, please be patient. Keep a few Q tips and tissues handy for wiping off the few mistakes he may make.

He likes more of the floral designs, especially the intricate floral fractals. Flowers are pretty, and he knows how unique designs ought to be appreciated.

He’s a bit of a perfectionist so be prepared for a numb arm afterward. But it’ll be work it when you see the joy in his eyes when he finishes it to his liking.

Will wait for it to dry with you if he’s not busy. He needs down time too, and spending time learning about something else is nice you’re also just really nice company and he feels bad that your religious holiday is being spent all alone

Will genuinely thank you if you do a design on him or let him do a design on you. It makes something in his heart warm up at the thought of knowing that he made something for someone else and its not only artistic, but you’re wearing it with pride. If you actually show it off he’ll huff about it but its a farce cause his posture improves and his chest is puffed out at the fact you’re showing it off.

If you were close enough that you did a design on him and it starts to wear away he will march up to you whatever time he can and demanding you retrace it. Or give him a new one. It’s like a friendship bracelet, GIVE!

All in all, he likes it. Anytime you do Mehndi from then on, he’ll be there, either chilling with you or getting some on himself too.

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

He spots you sitting down and squirting something on your skin.

‘What is that?’ Genuinely intrigued and curious. Likes the designs!

You did those yourself? That’s so cool! The patience and artistic ability is quite interesting to him.

If you tell him the history behind Mehndi/Henna, he’ll ask questions and engage in conversations about it. He has an appreciation for the historical aspect, and he’ll likely ask multiple questions.

He’ll watch you do it but he’ll also get fidgety after a while. You have to wait for it to dry too. But he’s not leaving! He’ll just need to move around a bit.

If you ask him to get anything for you for nourishment he will. He’ll feed you himself but also tease you while you’re at it.

Will blow on it to help it dry. When you tell him its cold he’ll just keep doing it because he’s a gremlin.

Finds it satisfying to watch. Will make suggestions on what to do next. If you incorporate it, he’d be over the moon! Just know that he’ll suggest some joke stuff and will veer from the intended aesthetic, so it’s up to you at that point.

There are some trends in mehndi where people who get their mehndi done will hide little cameos or names of people in their designs. Soap will suggest his name cheekily, believe me, but if you actually do it, he’d be forever thankful and in awe that you’d allowed him that honour. To him its like getting his name tattooed on you so its a high degree of respect given.

If you offer to do some on him he’d be glad to! He’ll eagerly give you his arm and ask you to either go ham or will have a design in mind. If you have his name in your design somewhere he will ask for yours too, it’s only fair! Bestie’s honour!

If you let him do a design on your skin, he’d be floored. He’d be so eager and happy! He grabs the tube and is ready! You’ll just have to limit him cause his imagination is going wild so please just tell him what to do before you sign some Ursula-esque contract and end up with some stupid-ass emoji or slogan like ‘Soap waz here’ on your skin for the next few days.

Surprisingly, he’s very good with handling the mehndi tube. He was named Soap for a reason, and he’s very good at putting the right amount of pressure for the right design. Not the best artistically but he takes his time and is genuinely careful with the fun. He treats it like a tattoo, it’s something he’ll spend time on.

That said, he is also an eager beaver and in his excitement he may, at any point, accidentally mess up some wet mehndi. When he does so, he will absolutely be a mess about it and apologize profusely for it. Help him please, keep some tissues nearby, please forgive him too he promises he didn’t mean it!!

If you allow it on a visible part of you he’ll be so happy to see it. If you actively show it off and tell the others he did it he’ll enthusiastically tell them how he did it because he’s just so happy he did that! Will have his arm around you too, you’re precious now for letting him do that. Will take offense when the others may not believe that he was the one who made that part of your mehndi.

When he’s done he’ll chat and eat with you, and make sure you’re okay. If your design is on the inside of your hand he will make a point to feed you himself. It makes him happy to do so.

He really likes the fractal designs, the ones that look like multiple layers of leaves or scales, lattice patterns are nice for him to look at.

If the design you give him starts to fade, he will ask for another one. Will show off every one you do for him.

Cptn. John Price

Price is not a complete stranger to the art, but it is one that he’s never really seen up close. He is aware from his life that there are other civilians he’s seen in the city have it done, he has travelled before as well and seen it too, so not entirely unfamiliar but very clueless. Seeing you do it awakens a curiosity, and he wants to know how its done.

He is a history nut, not that many people will know, so please tell him everything. Let him know the history of what you’re doing, its purpose, and how it relates to the holiday, etc.

Price enjoys thinking about other perspectives, so if you ramble on he’ll listen. It’s nice to hear some chatter about creative things rather than fearmongers, warlords, cartels and such. He’s happy to listen.

Will watch with attention as you do it, and when you talk to him he will engage in conversation as he absorbs the information. Has some questions and they’re all fairly relevant, Will periodically hum in thought or shift or gesture, showing you that he is in fact listening, and sometimes in the middle will interrupt to talk to you about something you said. The best part is when he interrupts you after you tell him the art of mehndi is thousands of years old...now he’s making mental notes and wanting to know more.

Will absolutely talk with you for the entire time you’re waiting for it to dry. Has the patience of a saint. The only time he’ll leave is if its an emergency, or if there’s a lot of paperwork he’ll just grab it from his office to do near you while you wait. Will let you talk about whatever you want. But if you let him talk you both are going to be there a while, John’s a very charismatic person and easy to talk to, so you could find yourself sitting for 3 hours just talking to him when your mehndi dries in half that time. But it’s time well spent, he absolutely appreciates it.

If you need him to get you any food, he is already on it, and regardless of which side of your hand the design is, he is a gentleman and will feed it to you. The best.

Likes to watch you do the designs, it’s satisfying to watch. He really likes quiet, creative times.

If he accidentally messes up your design by shifting and wiping it off he will not stop thinking about it for the next week. Forgive him please he didn’t mean it! He feels really bad and will offer help to fix it or clean it up. The more intricate it is the worse he feels.

If you want to do some on him, he might let you do it, just a small one in a hidden place. It has more meaning for him that way, and he also doesn’t know if he’s even allowed to have such things peak out, so he just wants to keep it on the low. Also it feels like a piece of you, someone he cares for, so its very personal to Price and he’s keeping it discreet like a well-loved secret. He’s so proud of it though. Others might notice, cause he will try to show it off in subtle ways. He always feels a smile on his lips when he notices that you notice the design.

When Price asks for the design he’ll also deviate from the aesthetic, maybe make it something else a little more to his interests, as the cultural rules of the aesthetic are not one he completely understands, as he thinks of it like a tattoo as well if just a little more flowery. If you do something floral or whatever he’d still appreciate it, but if you indulge in it by like, making it a collage of compiled mehndi aesthetic to make a shape similar to what he wants, he’d beam about it for months, long after that design fades. He will take numerous pictures of it but they’re all blurry cause he uses a phone like a grandpa and only a few of them turn out slightly legible.

If you let him do one on you? Price’s entire body is filled with warmth. You’re letting him design something on your body? Something that has cultural relevance to you, and in a design he wants? He feels honoured. He will have the highest reverence for that moment, it feels like you’ve given him a tremendous amount of trust. Price will actually try to back away a few times as he feels he might not have the cultural relevancy to administer it, but if you insist, he’d be so ecstatic. He is going to do his absolute best, Captain’s honour!

That being said, his drawing skills aren’t the best, so he’d try to talk about it a little bit. You’ll need to teach him how to grip and use the cone because otherwise its either too much or too little pressure, no in between.

Sausage fingers again, so please keep some tissues on hand. It will take time, but he is meticulous, he wants to make you proud and do you justice.

It comes out a little more austere than the usual flowery lines of traditional mehndi, but anyone can see it is made with love. Price is proud of it at the end, but will seek your approval before he dreams of celebrating that accomplishment. When you give your approval, he is glowing and thinking about any compliment you may have given him as he waits for sleep that night.

Once the mehndi vanishes, he’s sad to see it go, but is eager for another one should you ever do it again. So every Eid or any type of holiday you may celebrate, he will pop in to check on you and if he sees you doing mehndi, he’ll sit down and ask if you can do some on him too. You didn’t hear this from me but he discovered Pinterest mehndi/henna designs and has a...hundred saved.

He really likes the mehndi and has a reverence for it now, and makes a point to sit with you and give even one greeting any time there is a cultural or religious holiday to celebrate it in some way with you.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

When he sees it he will automatically pull up a seat and sit next to you, eyes wide, staring at it. You’d think he was a scientist looking at a newly discovered microbe.

The first thing out of his mouth is: ‘Bloody hell that’s gorgeous’. Is very intrigued. Eyeballing your design.

Could sit and watch for hours. It feels therapeutic to him to just watch mindlessly as a cone leaves an artistic trail on your skin. Is absolutely hypnotized.

Will be so glad if you tell him what you’re doing. Seriously, creativity is something he cannot appreciate enough. Probably the most viscerally appreciative of this art out of everyone.

Will literally sit next to you watching for hours or talking non-stop with how happy he is to see this going on. There is no in between, don’t ask. Gaz deserves to speak.

Please, please for the love of humanity tell him the history of it. Nerd wants to know. It. All. He will soak up the information like a sponge and will relentlessly look up designs and look at the history of it. He can’t believe this form of tattooing is that old! He can’t wait to gush about it with you, seriously.

He would try to guess what your design is. He would watch the lines and try to predict what you’re going to draw next. It becomes a game between you both, and to humor him, sometimes, you would draw what he guessed. Hey, he gives good ideas.

He will actually look up designs and marvel at them and give you ideas if you want. He’s very considerate of the art and wants to see how you do it. If you do the signs he suggests, he’d be over the moon!

If you do some on him, he’d be out of orbit. He’s so pumped when you do something with mehndi on his skin, and he’ll show off the colours and designs to anyone he sees. Will gush for days and will whine when the design starts to fade.

He really likes fictional characters so he will ask for symbols, logos, etc, but he will also try to incorporate the traditional mehndi designs as to him the traditions need to be respect regardless of his out-of-pocket requests for some mehndi designs. He will ask for memes I am so sorry.

If you let him do any mehndi designs on you...WHOOO BOI, his soul is A S C E N D E D. Out of this galaxy. He’s so thankful, he honestly is so honoured he is ready to give his life for you.

He will ask what you’d like from him, and will do his absolute best, Soldier’s honour, he will use his steadiest hand. He’s very good with his hand-to-eye coordination, and he is very good at drawing from a reference and replicating it he’s not the best without one tbh

Will take his time and it will take a while. Perhaps a few hours, depending on how complicated or exact you want the design. He’ll try to challenge himself and also honour your hands with an intricate design so unless you have time, are able to go without food for a bit (or plan ahead and have it with you) and are okay with almost complete silence as Gaz works, choose something simpler. Please, he really wants to do good by you. When he’s done you will be floored I promise.

Once the design fades he will ask when is the next time you do mehndi, and will respect your decision if you choose to do it only on holidays, but if you just whip out the tube and offer to do one, he’ll beam like the sun for the rest of the day. Nothing will happen to that smile no matter what.

Has a high respect for the creative craft and can’t wait to see you the next time you do it, and is so heavily invested you’ll think he invented it. A wonderful buddy for the arts and cherishes the time and knowledge you gave him.

Col. Alejandro Vargas

He literally stops to look the first time he sees it. ‘What are you doing, cariño?’

He lives in Las Almas, and there is Middle-Eastern history in Latin America including Mexico, so it is probable that he has seen women have these designs on them before, or knows of their existence and use. But the intricate designs are very much a subject of interest, and to see you do it makes him ponder if there is a special reason you’d do it.

When you tell him why, he’s surprised as to why he didn’t connect the dots but he’ll sit down and watch, with your permission. He’ll talk to you as you do it, wanting to spend time with a friend and a religious holiday is the perfect excuse, no?

He’s not truly interested in history unless its the history of those who he knows or wants to know about, both friends and foes alike, but if you tell him he’ll gladly listen! He wants to get to know each and every one of his friends better and what better way than to listen to them.

He will be a bit shook when you tell him that it’s thousands of years old. Like on the one hand it makes sense but on the other, they knew how to do this thousands of years ago? When you tell him the history he will interrupt a few times and converse with you, you’ll have to actually tell him if you need a moment to talk, but he is always respectful and engaged when you talk to him, a proper gentleman.

While some from 141 may try to guess what you’ll do next, Alejandro will actually ask you what you’re drawing next, wondering if there is a process to the way you’re thinking of doing your designs. He will try to guess like Gaz, but mostly he will try to understand your own artistic visions and where they stem from. Psychology of Mehndi taught by Col. Alejandro Vargas, anyone?

If you ask him to bring you some food or water he is speedwalking and grabbing you as much nourishment as possible. If you’re doing something he can see is intricate he will make a whole meal platter because ‘your creative brain needs energy, no? and will cook you something quick and easy to eat. He will feed you though, not letting you touch or halt the process, because he’s that considerate. Just be careful when he tries to give you water, ask for a straw or you might clink your teeth against the glass when he tries to get you hydrated, bless him.

He’ll ask questions about the designs and your own experience with it, expressing a vested interest in your connection to the art as he’s more used to one type of culture, so if you come from a different culture then he’ll want to know about your own cultural experiences and compare. He will also tell you stories of the few times he’s seen mehndi on people. He will also try to pronounce it as closely as possible to the way you do, he has a lot of respect for different languages and cultures.

If you offer to let him do a design he is both very honoured and also extremely nervous, simply because he had never done it before and while he is very good at using weapons, art was not his best subject in school and he will need guidance. Please be patient with him, and have some tissues ready to use, he will need the whole box by the end. He is determined to do your trust good.

Will make designs based upon his own iterations of what would be acceptable from what he’s seen of your designs and those of the past. He knows that it is often floral patterning, so he will try to make something unique. It might not be as intricate but one can easily see it is heartfelt.

If you let him sneak his name anywhere or sign his design? You’re forever one of his favourite people like that’s such a high honour to him, you’re family now. He is protecting you so hard for allowing him a chance to do something creative, nice and sweet. And if you show it off? The man’s chest is puffed up, and he never stops smiling. The rest of Los Vaqueros actually worry that something has happened to one of his enemies.

Now, Alejandro knows it is originally an art meant for mostly women, so if you offer to do some for him, he will assess the situation and likely say he’s not sure or a soft no. If you insist upon it though, he will allow you one design, something preferably in a small place as he is at work often and so he will likely want to have it be small and personal and somewhat hidden, like the inside of his elbow or between his fingers, a small one inside his wrist, that kind of thing. If you still make it intricate, dear God he is the happiest alive. Will subtly show it off like Price would, too, as he is so proud to wear something by you. If anyone in Los Vaqueros makes fun of him for it though they’ve fucked up. No one insults a gift from you!

He prefers designs that are less floral but definitely has a softer aesthetic, and if you do something that depicts Mexican culture, he’s over the moon and will actually show it off all the time. He’d be more towards animal-like designs.

If you did one on him and it fades, he is sad to see it go but does not demand to make it happen again. He knows the religious importance and just subtly asks you when the next holiday is, and if you’re doing mehndi for it. But if you notice and just offer to touch it up he will not stop you. The soft look in his eye and his relaxed posture show how thankful he is to be treated to this.

Other members of Los Vaqueros may actually come to you too after seeing what you did for their leader, as Alejandro repays your artistry by telling others who are interested. On some days when there is no missions and it is a more civilian time, the partners and children of the Vaqueros may come to you too for mehndi/henna. You could make a business out of it, just saying.

Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra

Purest angel is confused but so very into it. You’re putting paste onto your arm and its coming out in pretty designs? Wow! He needs to know more asap.

He’s going to sit and stare at it, tilting his head and following the directions of your hand. He looks like a curious puppy as he quietly watches you.

He is quiet curious, and will ask very quietly about what it is you are doing. If you tell him its for a religious celebration, he’ll listen intently. He will sit and listen to you without speaking or interrupting, saving any questions for last. Like Alejandro, he has some experience with differing cultures and wants to give you as much respect as he can, cause you do the same for him.

You mean this is thousands of years old?! Is incredulous but in a good way. Genuinely cannot believe it but it makes him believe in humanity more because he thinks of it as representing innate human goodness in creation than destruction. Is genuinely impressed and will try to do more research on his own time.

When he hears its a religious celebration his heart kind of breaks and he looks like a wounded puppy cause he feels awful knowing that he’s done nothing, even if he’s not consciously at fault he does feel really bad. He’ll then spent the entire time you are doing your mehndi, and the rest of the day, doing everything your mind can come up with but first he’ll enjoy mehndi with you because that is what you’re doing right now.

Tell him about your culture. PLEASE. He wants to hear more about the outside world and about the people he works with and would love love love to vicariously travel through you when you tell him about every experience you have had with mehndi. He needs to know so leave no detail out.

Like Alejandro, he will not try to guess but will observe and ask what you’re making, wanting to hear the process and familiarize himself with the traditions of the art, or just your own style and creativity if you’re not going traditional. He just likes to see what others do, he likes observing people he almost got knocked out for it once by an angry misunderstanding Alejandro years ago but it never got too big and they’ve been friends since. It’s very different from traditional Mexican arts so he will be very interested to learn of it, a very visual learner. Stares at your arm the way a scientist stares into the microscope at a tardigrade of interest. Please forgive him he’s just very curious-

If you ask him to get you food or water he absolutely will because he was raised to be the most gentlemanly of gentlemen in Las Almas. He will give you water in a straw to prevent spilling and have some food that he can just scoop and make it easy for you to bite into at your own time, giving you pace to eat when you’re ready. He is an okay enough cook for simple recipes so expect something with eggs or veggies, something with little cleanup or change of breaking. He will hold the food out and let you eat when you’d like, or if its on a stick just let you munch off the skewer to prevent you from losing time.

If you offer to do a design with him as an inspiration or part of it anywhere, he is going to whisper a thousand good wishes of health, luck, prosperity, fertility, wealth, happiness, wellness, safety, fortune, every blessing under the sun. You want to put something on your skin in remembrance of him? He is deceased. He will die and kill for you and name an operation after you, you’re the best-

He would love anything you do, even if its just his initials, and he will always always smile when he sees you in public. He would love his initials or name hidden like a signature on the fanciest cast even though there is no injury. Is so flattered. The more elaborate you do it, the closer he comes to grateful tears.

If you offer to do some on him, his sleeves are getting rolled up faster than Snoop Dogg can roll a joint. He will excitedly hold out his hands and actually tells you to go ham. If you do take a minute or so to ask what he wants he’ll give an honest answer but it might be incoherent just cause he’s so excited. Will accept anything. He particularly likes the lattice-work, as it looks like intricate lace, and a few flowers are cool too! But you get infinite respect points if you use historical references of Mexican culture and literature or environment in the design. The man will be floored so hard he’ll come out the other side of the globe.

Will try to show off the mehndi when he has a chance and he gives zero fucks if anyone says anything because both he and Alejandro will beat their ass. Is not going to be loud about it but the smile on his face and the consistent flexing in the sun trying to show it off is enough for people to get the obvious hint to look at it.

If you let him to one one you, he’ll actually try to pull back, as he feels it might be disrespectful to take hold of the actual item rather than just having someone from that culture doing it onto him. It will take some time for him to give in, like a while. He actually doesn’t want to do it. If you just let him do something small though, he’ll be much easier to negotiate with. Also, he’s insecure about his hand-eye coordination, so he’ll just make small cute things and its really up to you to connect them or leave them be. He will most likely do floral patterns on you, flowers or vines or something simple and easy to do that can be easily integrated into your own style and design.

When the design fades, it makes him slightly sad but its completely up to you if you want to do it again. He’ll never say no to another application, as he sees it as a chance to get creative, but it will be totally up to you.

Like Alejandro, will ask when the next holiday is because he is invested in the lives of his friends, and he will forever do whatever he can to make sure that you have a chance to celebrate it with your beloved tradition. He will literally just buy you a new tube of mehndi whenever you ask, will go shopping with you for it because he believes you know best. Purest boy, protect him.

Sources:

Barraza Carlos, Arabs in Mexico. Assimilation and Cultural Heritage (link)

Bonus: Phillip ‘Shadow-1′ Graves

Fucker thinks its weird and teases you about it

But if others around the base do it he’s like ‘oh wow that shit rocks’

Gets jealous and wants one

Note: Absolutely not 💖🖕🏽

156 notes · View notes

junkdrawerfics · 1 year

Text

Promise Kept (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

This is an abo fic so if you don’t like don’t read! (no spice)

Summary: Reader is an omega aviator who has fought tooth and nail to be where she is. She never gave alphas the time of day, until Bradley Bradshaw walked into her life. Even then, she can’t bring herself to let him all the way in, until one night, after a fight with Hangman leaves her with too many doubts to ignore.

Warnings: none really, it gets a little saucy, but doesn’t go past some intense-ish making out. Some internalized prejudice.

word count: 6036 (ended up being kind of a slow burn)

Society had come a long way with how omegas were treated. No longer considered second class citizens, or fragile glass creatures in need of protection, they were treated just like everyone else practically everywhere. Practically.

As always, nothing is perfect. Some people still hold to their prejudice, much like how some women still face sexism, regardless of their secondary gender. For some reason, you just weren’t expecting to come face to face with it in the Navy. Perhaps you should have.

Being an omega, and a woman, meant you had to fight tooth and nail for every sliver of perception you could. In the academy, that meant studying every night and giving up all aspects of a social life to be at the top of the class. It meant long nights spent at the gym after studying, beating your body into a muscular shape, which was no simple task. No one ever told you how difficult it would be to keep your physique as an omega, something about your body being adapted to be softer, rounder, more protective. The odds never phased you, though. You wouldn’t have joined the Navy if they did.

And it worked. You bested everyone academically, and stood your ground in training against the alphas and betas. You weren’t the first omega to pass through the academy, but they all acted like you were, which only stoked the fire in you more, a fire that had been in you since you were young. Always push back. Don’t step down for anyone. Prove that you deserve to be there. Prove them wrong.

When you joined the Navy as an aviator, you started on your suppressants and never let up on your training. Even at that point, when everyone said you’d made it, when your parents urged you to take it slow, go out, meet people (‘an alpha’ was barely hidden in their tone), you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You were going to prove to the world if you had to that omegas deserved to be treated with just as much respect as alphas, and you’d fight anyone if they thought otherwise.

Hence how you end up almost killing a certain frenemy of yours. Several times.

“Hangman, if you don’t shut your trap, I’m going to shave your head in your sleep,” you snap, teeth grinding as you glare up at the taller aviator.

“Ooooh, the omega has claws.” He gives you that annoying smirk, the one that makes you want to smack him over the head with a pool stick.

That would break it though. You don’t want to put Penny out like that, so you stick to a scathing growl. Placing the stick down on the table, you notice your other friends take wary steps back as you come to stand toe to toe with the prick of a blond. Good. You wouldn’t want anyone else getting into this right now.

“Do you want to go, Bagman? See just how sharp these claws are?”

He scoffs, “We wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we, Widow?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyes narrow.

“Look, darlin’-” The word makes your brow twitch. “-it’s just a simple fact that alphas are stronger than omegas. I’m just saying you’re no exception.”

“I could put you on the ground in less than a minute,” you growl, anger digging into your chest like a hot iron.

“Oh please, if you weren’t on suppressants, we’d be having a very different conversation right now.”

A low murmur spreads through your group, even amongst the standers-by who overhear your argument. Your jaw clicks with how hard you clench your teeth together, a dull pain thrumming up to your temple. Slowly, you tilt your chin up and square your shoulders, every aspect of your posture screaming of a dominance you shouldn’t possess, a dominance you’ve taken by force. Hangman’s gaze turns wary at the challenge.

“Oh, he’s done it now,” Phoenix murmurs, eyes dancing with barely contained amusement.

“I wouldn’t want you even if you were the last alpha on the planet,” you murmur, voice like a storm brewing out over the ocean, “You should just admit that you can’t beat me in a fight instead of resorting to being such a douchebag. It would look better.”

“You know what I think? I think it’d look better if yo-”

“Watch your mouth, Hangman.”

You bite down on a flare of frustration when a solid body steps between the two of you. Your eyes travel up, trailing over muscular arms, across broad shoulders, up to a mop of dark curls crowned by a pair of aviators and you stiffen.

Rooster.

You reluctantly take a step back, watching the two alphas glare at each other. The look in Rooster’s eyes sends your pulse racing. They burn with something fiercely protective, something utterly dark that curls low in your abdomen. Usually you’d butt back in, because you don’t need rescuing. You don’t need an alpha to protect you, nor do you want one.

But it’s always been different with Rooster, as much as you don’t want to admit it. When he comes to your defense, a deep neglected feeling crawls up your throat and practically chokes you. You’ve tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore how nice he smells, all leather and mahogany and clean linen. How his touch feels like warmth and ice and electricity all at once. Or how he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars when you win in combat, smile dripping with pride and something you don’t dare put a finger on. You can’t. You can’t, because if you do, you’re terrified that feeling will drown you, and you’ll turn into exactly the thing you don’t want to be.

So you settle for stepping back to watch, desperately clinging to the anger still simmering in your veins. Desperate to ignore the prominent veins tracing the alpha’s taut arms and the attractive edge of his clenched jaw.

He’s just an alpha. An alpha like any other. Even if he treats you like an equal. Even if he’s never been anything except respectful to you.

“What, Bradshaw? As if you don’t think the same thing?” A taunting smile returns to Hangman’s lips. “I’m just playing the part, but we all see the way you look at our favorite omega.”

Those words make you stiffen. Eyes wide, you glance up at Rooster, whose ears are tinging pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denies, a warning in his tone.

“Oh really?” The blond presses, far too entertained by the reactions he’s garnering. His eyes slide to you again, and for once, you feel unsettled by the mischief you find there. “Have you noticed, (L/n)? Because I sure don’t feel like I’m imagining it.”

You don’t know how to respond. It’s like the words have tangled on your lips, like they’re anchored there, too heavy to spit out, too terrifying to face. And you hate just how weak that makes you feel.

“Just drop it, Hangman,” Rooster growls. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Fine.” Jake raises his hands, that idiotic smirk still curling his lips as he takes a mock step back. “You really need to lighten up, Bradshaw. Wouldn’t want someone getting the wrong idea, since you don’t want her apparently.”

That statement settles in your gut like a rock, especially when Bradley just clenches his jaw again and doesn’t say a word.

Leave it to Hangman to stir the pot, or to set the heat until things boil over in this case. You want to throttle him, maybe deprive him of the ability to have kids, but you are far too aware of all the eyes on you, both your friends and the various strangers populating the bar. It makes you want to disappear, or yell, but neither are really an option right now.

Running away means you’re a coward, a weak little omega who can’t stand up to some bullying.

Yelling would just make you look crazy.

So once again you’re forced to settle. You drop into the seat next to Phoenix, watching Rooster take a deep, slow breath before he storms off to the bar, for a drink you presume. It seems most evenings with Hangman require some form of alcohol to make it through. Too bad you were a designated tonight, or you’d be joining him.

“You okay?” Bob, sweet beta he is, gives you the softest concerned look from across the table.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “Nights like these make me deeply question why I’m friends with that knot-head though.”

“Who else would you argue with if he weren’t around?” Phoenix laughs into her drink.

You don’t say anything in reply. Part of you wants to say that you don’t love arguing. It frustrates you more than anything, how the blond knows how to get such strong reactions from you. And it’s even worse that he always seems to do it around Rooster, which leads to moments like this, where you can’t control the ache in your heart that clashes with the fire in your veins, leaving you to burn in your own uncertainty.

The rest of the night goes on peacefully, which is likely due to the uptake of alcohol. Despite telling yourself it’s a bad idea, you can’t help but keep an eye on Rooster. The man appears to sulk a few tables over, not paying much attention to the conversation Fanboy and Pay Back keep trying to draw him into. Worry burrows deep into your chest when he switches from nursing a beer to a glass of whiskey, dark eyes lost in thought.

You wish you knew what he was thinking. You wish you could walk right over there and ask him. Pretend the evening never happened. But that uncertainty clings to you like a tick, small and irritating and impossible to tear out.

He’s an alpha.

But he’s also your best friend.

Everythings has always been different with Rooster. At first, you’d hated him. He was just another opponent, another obstacle you had to overcome to be the best. You used to bicker, much like Hangman, but he never once brought up your secondary gender. He respected you, despite all your back and forth. He treated you like an equal, something you had only experienced with Phoenix.

Then, one day, you crashed. It was an accident, an error with the plane. Apparently something was missed in the inspection before you went up. You ended up in the hospital for a few days, and when you woke up, there he was. Sitting at your bedside, somehow asleep while looking horribly uncomfortable in one of those stiff hospital chairs.

Things shifted after that.

That day you saw a new side to the aviator. He was softer, charismatic smirk replaced with the most genuine smile when he realized you were awake. It gave you pause back then. Made you doubt everything you thought about alphas. From then on, you spent most of your time together, and your arguments turned to playful banter, which turned into late night talks, which turned into phone calls when your deployment took you to different places.

It all went so fast, leaving you grasping at straws when you first noticed how your heart skips a beat when he gives you one of those soft, lopsided smiles.

But he’s an alpha.

And you still can’t face the idea of being a typical, lovestruck omega, not after an entire lifetime and trying to be anything but. What would everyone think of you? What if you fell behind? The doubt is crippling, to say the least.

So you stay at your table, nursing your own cup of lemonade, distractedly adding to a conversation with Phoenix and Bob while watching the alpha down drink after drink. Eventually he starts smiling again, laughing just a little too loud like he usually does when he’s drank too much.

“Wanna play a round, Widow?” You glance over at Hangman, who holds out a pool stick to you. A peace offering perhaps. Some of the tension leaks from your shoulders.

“No thanks, Bagman, not really in the mood to play,” you hum, though you give him the faintest smile to make sure he knows the two of you are good. He nods, too white smile on his lips as he tosses the stick to Coyote instead.

When you look back to Rooster, you freeze. He’s looking at you, for the first time since the stand-off. His eyes, such a peculiar shade of hazel and brown, are glazed over, but they burn with an intensity that makes your breath get lost somewhere in your lungs. Smile gone, it’s replaced with a look you are far too familiar with. It’s the look he gets whenever he’s trying to figure something out, how to attack, how to win, how to succeed at a certain maneuver. But it’s solely focused on you.

You meet his eyes, one brow raising in challenge. Not a single sign of submission. A soft glint sparks in his gaze, something dark and fond, as a smile pulls at the corner of his lips. You don’t back down, even as his eyes trail down, lingering for a heated second on your lips, before trailing over the exposed length of your neck and collarbone. Subconsciously, your shoulders draw up, and your eyes narrow into a glare. Rooster leans back in his seat, eyes sparkling as they trail back to meet yours. Too dark. Too warm. Too hungry.

You break away, heart suddenly in your throat. And you’re shaking. You tuck your fingers between your thighs, desperate to hide the slight tremor. You can still feel his gaze, feel it warming your skin to the point of setting a fire. For the first time in what feels like forever, a blush spreads up your neck and across your cheeks. A low chuckle sounds from a few tables down.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you grumble under your breath.

“Who?” Phoenix asks, though the smirk on her face gives away that she knows.

“Rooster,” You tell her anyway.

“Oh please, you love him. He could wreck your car and you’d still ruffle his hair like you do and forgive him,” she laughs, and Bob nods along. “He loves that by the way.”

“Huh?”

“The two of you are very oblivious,” Bob adds, which is like a punch in the gut coming from the beta.

“What do you mean?” You look between your two friends, frustration building when they merely share a look and laugh.

“Nothing, Widow. Just might be some time for a heart to heart with ‘Roo’.” She puts the nickname in air quotes, because it’s what you notoriously call him. No one else can get away with it, lest Bradshaw bite their heads off. He lets you though, and they’ve all seen the fond smile it brings to his lips. It’s so painfully obvious, to everyone except you and him apparently.

You’re about to bite back, maybe something about her and Hangman, but the sound of a sharp shuffle draws your attention away. Rooster is jostling out of his seat, slurring something about another round, but he can barely keep himself upright. With a sigh, you slip from your booth, heading towards the idiot.

“Case in point!”

You send Phoenix a glare over your shoulder, but it turns to something fond when she gives you a cheesy thumbs up, eyebrow wiggling. They’re all idiots, you decide.

You make it to Rooster’s side just in time, as he practically trips over his own feet.

“Woah, buddy,” you laugh, catching him around the middle. You can feel the heat of his body, even through his Hawaiian shirt. Rooster has always run so warm. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

A cacophony of protests sound from the rest of the table, but Bradley just looks down at you with a doe-eyed smile. You stomp down the fondness curling in your stomach, and instead draw his arm over your shoulder and curl an arm tight around his waist.

“I’m taking this dufus home. Try not to die while I’m gone!” You call, receiving a mixture of laughter and catcalls (Hangman of course), which you ignore.

Now, moving a 6’2” alpha is no easy task. Not when it’s Rooster, who can barely keep a foot under him when he’s tipsy and is only coordinated when he plays the piano. Usually, on nights like this, the main struggle is getting him to stop laughing long enough to get his feet to move, but tonight, he’s suspiciously quiet as you lead him out to your car. You can still feel his eyes on you, but this time you’re too scared to meet them. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking now. You don’t want to think about the fact that you’re alone with him now. An alpha. A drunk alpha at that. Even if he is your best friend.

The cold, night air helps to ease the warmth dancing under your skin. It seems to help Rooster sober up just a little too, as he fumbles his way into your passenger seat. You reach across him, intent on buckling the idiot up, but freeze when his fingers curl around your wrist.

Slowly, so slowly, you lean back to look at him, ready to bite, knock him out if you need to, but Bradley just smiles. It’s one of those soft, genuine ones, brimming in his eyes, boyishly lopsided. And you melt. You buckle him up and take a moment to ruffle a hand through his soft curls, drawing a content hum from the dirty blond. He just keeps looking at you, all smiley, eyes half-lidded.

“What am I gonna do with you, Roo?” You sigh.

“Kiss me?”

A shocked laugh parts your lips at the earnest suggestion. This finally gets Rooster to frown, though it looks more like a pout, which makes you giggle more. Leave it to Bradley to always be unexpected.

“Maybe when you’re sober, Roo,” you tease, and this seems to bring back his grin.

“‘m holdin’ you to that.”

You snort, knowing he probably won’t even remember this conversation in the morning, though a small part of you hopes he will. A small part you chastise as you close his door and move to the driver’s seat.

The drive is surprisingly quiet, until the sound of Rooster’s soft snores fill the car. A fond smile captures your lips. Looks like you had the perfect timing. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer at the bar. When you reach his apartment, you take a moment to just look at Rooster. His brow, usually knotted together for some reason or another, is smooth in his sleep, making him look younger, softer. His hair is a little mussed from when you ruffled it, a few strands falling over his forehead, tempting you to brush them back.

He really is handsome, you think. You don’t often let yourself entertain it, but Bradley really is something. Tall, muscular, with a defined jaw and a confidence to match. He’s an ideal alpha. Yet, that’s not what you find yourself drawn to. No, it’s those moments in the air when he calls on you to make the decision. It’s all the times he invites you over for a drink and just listens. It’s everything else about him that drives you crazy. He’s the perfect alpha.

You wonder if he’d ever pick you, as his omega.

And then, immediately, you shove that thought down and jump out of the car. Bradley jumps awake when you slam the door, eyes blearily tracking you as you make it to him and unbuckle him.

“Come on, big man, time to get you to bed,” you huff as you drag him up.

“You’re so strong,” Rooster mumbles, the look on his face just short of adoration.

Your face flushes, “Strong enough to drag you around. Better keep that in mind the next time you try to pick a fight with me.”

A moment of silence.

And then - “’m not Bagman.”

You stop, casting the alpha a curious glance. You hadn’t been insinuating that, but suddenly he looks too serious, brows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line.

“I know you’re not, Roo,” you murmur gently.

“I don’t like how he talks to you.” He frowns, now facing you completely.

“Yah? How so?” You slowly redirect him to the door.

“Don’t like how ‘e treats you like some ‘mega. You’re an omega, but he, he-” He practically growls, and your shoulders tense. “He’s no manners. I should knock some ‘nto him.”

You loosen when you realize the root of his anger. He doesn’t like that Hangman blatantly disrespects you as an omega. You were expecting it to be some protective alpha thing, since the two of you are so close, and it is to some degree you’re sure, but it lifts a little of your unease knowing that this is partially his chivalry thing. He once told you it’s how his mother raised him, since she was an omega and his father had passed away. His only other real influence was Maverick, who happens to be a beta.

“Well, I bet if we messed his face up a bit, he wouldn’t be so rude,” you hum, laughing softly when Bradley nods aggressively.

You prop the alpha against the wall and fish his keys from his pocket, shuffling nervously when he goes quiet, heavy gaze falling down on you again. If only he weren’t a good head taller than you, then maybe it would be easier to face that look.

Instead, you swiftly step into his small apartment, busying yourself with grabbing a cup of water for him and a couple aspirin for when he wakes up the next morning. He watches from the doorway, only moving in when you tell him to go change.

And boy do you regret that when you slip into his room. You were intending to just check on him one last time, make sure he didn’t slip and die whilst changing, but you instead come face to face with a notably shirtless Rooster.

“Ah, I was just um, I just-” You gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Rooster shirtless, but this is different. This isn’t on the beach, when he’s covered in sweat and dancing to a victory play in dog fight football. No, this is in the dim light of his room, the soft glow from the kitchen just illuminating the prominent muscles of his abdomen, the smooth planes of his chest, the line of his collarbone, every inch of him tan and glowing and perfect.

When you finally do bring yourself to look away, to look at his face, you’re met with the most wolfish grin.

“Like what you see, Widow?”

Heat flushes through your chest, your breath catching in your throat. A small voice in you screams danger danger danger, but you can’t move as Rooster inches closer. His hands hover over your sides, close enough that you can feel his warmth, but not touching.

And part of you begs him to. Wants him to touch you, grab you, hold you, do whatever he wants. It collides viciously with the relief that swarms you when his hands settle gently on your arms. But then he’s leaning over you, face coming so so close to yours and you can’t breathe again. Your thoughts are swimming, lost to the whirlwind of the homey scent that envelops you.

“I wanna tell you something,” Rooster mumbles, warm breath brushing your face, the faint scent of whiskey not as gross as it should be.

“What is it, Bradley?” Your voice doesn’t quiver. It doesn’t.

He looks at you, and for a moment, it’s like he’s completely sober. His eyes are clear and bright, swimming with more emotion than you thought someone could hold. It feels like your heart is pushing through your chest.

“He’s wrong.”

“Who’s wrong?”

He hesitates only a second before the words spill from his lips, “Hangman. He said I don’t want you. He’s wrong.”

The air fizzles between the two of you as you process what he’s saying.

Bradley wants you. Is that what he means? He wants you? In what way? You’re suddenly overflowing with questions, each one dancing on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to ask them. Not now. Not when he’s like this and you can’t even seem to get your head straight. You don’t even know what you want, for Mavericks sake. (haha funny)

“I think you should get some sleep, Roo,” you all but whisper, “We can talk tomorrow.”

“It’s okay-” He draws you close just to press the softest kiss to your temple. It’s so innocent and sweet, you almost melt. “-know you don’t like alphas. Jus’ had to tell ya.”

And your heart breaks. His voice softens with something horribly sad and resigned, like he’s thought about this before, like he’s told it to himself over and over again. Because of you. Because of your stubborn prejudice. You’re no better than all the people you’ve been judging.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you croak, not meeting his eyes as you pull the man deeper into his bedroom.

He flops onto the mattress unceremoniously, immediately grabbing one of your hands when you turn to leave.

“Stay?”

You bite your lip, torn between running, escaping all this mess in your heart that he’s not even aware of, or doing exactly what he asks, because that’s all you want.

All you’ve ever wanted.

“Yah,” you rasp and settle down on the edge of his bed, “I’ll stay Roo, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

“An’ you’ll give me that kiss?” He peaks up at you with one eye, already fighting sleep.

You smile and gently brush your free hand through his curls, “Guess you’ll just have to get some sleep and see.”

Rooster eagerly closes his eyes and buries into his blankets, though that big, dopey grin stays on his lips even as he quickly drifts off. You linger, fingers still petting his hair, until you’re sure he’s asleep. Then, slowly, to not wake him up, you untangle your hand from his and make your way to the door.

Right before you close it, you hear a low, muffled, “Night, (Y/n).”

“Good night, Bradley,” you murmur back and silently shut the door.

You slump against the wood, a long whoosh of air escaping your lips.

How on earth are you supposed to process all of that?

It feels like everything is clicking together and falling apart, all at once.

Rooster wants you. You can still feel the warmth where his lips pressed against your skin. And you can’t really deny how you feel about him, not after all of that. Not only had you brought him home alone, drunk, and stumbled in on him shirtless, but nothing had happened. He never pressed, never made a move besides some flirting which is just so notoriously Rooster. Even drunk, he was more respectful than most people had ever been to you.

You love him.

There’s no other way to describe the deep, aching fondness in your chest.

You trust him, which seems even more important. Bradley would never do anything you wouldn’t want, he would never push himself on you, he would never force you to be something you’re not. Yet, you’ve made him feel like it’s impossible, because of your stupid vendetta against alphas.

The decision is made right then and there.

In the morning, when he’s more sober, you’ll show him just how much you like him and want him as an alpha. There will be no more doubt, no more holding back, no more suppressing every instinct that claws at your chest at the sight of him.

In the morning, he’ll definitely be getting that kiss.

---

When Rooster wakes up, it’s still dark out. A habit from all the early mornings for the job. He groans softly, head pounding like a herd of elephants are traipsing around inside it. He looks around blearily in the dark, barely catching the silhouette of a glass of water on his bed stand and the pills sitting next to it. He downs the painkillers quickly, finding the tiniest bit of relief from the cool water on his throat.

That’s the last time he drinks like that, he thinks, much like every morning he wakes up hungover.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Wincing, the alpha looks up with narrowed eyes, catching a familiar sight. You’re standing at the end of his bed - how did he miss you coming in? - dressed in a pair of shorts and one of his old shirts. You look significantly better off than how he feels.

“Morning,” he rasps and clears his throat, heat climbing up his neck, “What happened last night?”

“Not much. You proposed to me in a fit of undying love and cried when I said no,” you hum, holding the straightest face you can.

Absolute horror flashes across Rooster’s face, making his eyes go wide as saucers. The blush on his neck climbs all the way across his cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears. It only lasts for a few seconds before you burst into a fit of giggles, and understanding dawns on him. His features settle into something unimpressed.

“Not funny,” he growls, but the blush still lingering on his face makes it not too threatening.

“You’re just so fun to tease, Roo,” you coo, thoroughly entertained by the glare he sends you. You give his leg a pat, letting your touch linger - Rooster notices, his brow perking inquisitively at you - before you tuck your hands between your legs and your tone turns more serious, “Last night was fine. You just drank too much so I brought you home.”

“I didn’t do anything?”

“Weeeell…”

“(Y/n)?” His voice holds something uncertain in it, which is out of character for the aviator, and makes you soften.

You hold his gaze for a serious moment, biting your lip as you think through the words you’ve rehearsed over and over in your head. It’s not helping, not with the nerves swirling in your chest. You barely slept last night thinking about this moment.

“You were mad about what Hangman said at the bar last night,” you murmur slowly, to which he nods. That he remembers. “You wanted to make sure I knew he was wrong. You um, you said you want me?”

Bradley freezes. He looks down at his hands, fingers flexing and unflexing as he traces back the events of the night. It’s all blurry, but he does remember being close to you. Kissing you. He winces. That is not how he wanted that to go. But all the best pilots know that once you make a move, there’s no taking it back, so the best route is to just keep going…he hopes.

“And if that’s true?” He asks, bringing those dark eyes up to meet yours. They burn with the same intensity they did last night, making you bite your lips.

“Well, if that’s true…” You take a breath, gathering every ounce of courage left in your body to swing a leg over his, putting you right in his lap. Rooster inhales sharply, instinctively gripping your hips to steady you. His eyes are wide, brewing with something wicked as they stay locked on your face. “I’d have to tell you that I want you too…alpha.”

A low growl rumbles through the aviator’s chest and his fingers dig into your skin, hard enough to leave a bruise, you’re sure. And you love it. The omega in your crumbles when he draws you closer, close enough that your noses practically touch.

“You weren’t drinking last night too, were you darlin?” His voice is deliciously rough, brushing over all your senses, leaving you tingling.

“Nope,” you hum, draping your arms over his shoulders to play with the curls at his neck, “I’m all here, Bradley. This is my decision.”

“And you’re choosing me?”

Instead of saying anything, you take another deep breath to still the nerves boiling away under your skin, and slowly tilt your chin, exposing the expanse of your neck to the alpha. A sign of submission.

Bradley stills, chest practically heaving as he keeps himself from moving. Both of your hearts are pounding, the moment so quiet, so tense, as you look at him from under your lashes. Your eyes swim with uncertainty and a vulnerability he has never seen, and that breaks him from his spell.

“God, I love you.” He buries his face in your neck, breathing in every bit of your scent that he can. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin, a low giggle escaping you when he presses his lips to your neck, all gentle and slow and sure, but the brush of his mustache against your skin tickles. “I’ve loved you since that crash, probably since before it. Never thought I had a chance with you, baby girl.”

“Sorry for making you think that, Roo,” you gasp when he nips at your ear.

“Don’t be.” He presses kisses to your jaw, closer and closer to your lips. You wish he’d just hurry up. “This feels more rewarding.”

“What? Knowing you got the stubborn, little omega?” You jest, practically dizzy from all the contact, and from his scent which seems to swallow you. God, you love his scent.

“No.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Knowing you’re choosing me. It’s all you, darlin’. I never stood a chance against you.”

“I don’t think I did either,” you sigh, “Not with that stupid mustache and that face.”

“You like my face?” His eyes twinkle with boyish mirth.

“Shut up and kiss me, lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You can feel the curve of a smirk on his lips when they finally meet yours. And it’s perfect. His lips press gently to yours as his hands trace up your sides to cup your face. Every touch is searing, leaving behind trails of heat that make you whimper softly into the kiss. Bradley growls, the sound deep, low in his chest. He tilts your head, catches your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from you. He deepens the kiss, and you’re helpless against it, against him. He kisses you until you’re breathless, until you’re clinging to him and his hands are curled firmly around your waist, drawing you closer, closer, closer. Even when you break away, chest heaving for air, he doesn’t stop, just presses kisses along your neck, tugs the collar of your his shirt aside to drop kisses along your collarbone and shoulder. A shaky sigh escapes your lips, and you can’t help but curl your fingers tightly through his curls. The alpha groans, concentrating on the spot right below your ear that makes you tremble. You whine when he bites the spot, and a low rumble vibrates his chest as he traces his tongue over the stinging skin before he presses one final kiss over it.

Your whole body is like a live wire. You can’t catch your breath, can’t stop the shaking of your hands or the wild pace of your heart. But you feel alive. You feel alive for the first time in forever.

“I love you,” Bradley murmurs again as he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he too tries to catch his breath.

“I love you, too,” you laugh breathlessly, “I can’t believe I’ve made you wait so long.”

“Worth it.” He hits you with that stupid, lopsided grin you love so much.

“Definitely….”

“...alpha.”

Bradley opens his eyes, glaring at you playfully, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, darlin’.”

You peck his lips one last time, teasingly soft, before you jump up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! I kept my promise about the kiss, didn’t I?”

A low laugh sounds from the bedroom, and you smile.

Yah, this was the right decision.

Note: This was purely self-indulgent when I wrote it, but I liked it, so I figured I’d post it somewhere. Hope someone else likes it!

#top gun #top gun maverick #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #reader #reader insert #x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #abo #abo dynamics #alpha Bradly bradshaw #alpha rooster #omega reader #don't judge pls

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