#real genius top gun au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceruleanchillin · 3 months

Text

141 x Reader: Biker!AU

Note(s) -

1.) Nobody asked for this, but here I am combining two obsessions. Congrats, you’re a biker’s old lady now 🎉.

Any media with hot guys in a group should have outlaw MC AUs

2.) I love roughneck Simon. Please give me more of him. I wanna talk about the guys in this AU so badly, don’t (DO) feed my inbox. BlueCollar!Simon, Mafia!Simon, Mechanic!Simon, Idc I love it all.

3.) If you saw this before, no you didn’t (plus I added more to it). I decided to keep them all together, and it’ll just be long as hell. A long fic stored under a cut never hurt nobody.🤷🏾‍♀️

Simon

Nobody can get him as soft as you. There’s a 3-ringed barrier around his heart. Outsiders < The Club < You.

He loves doing mundane things with you, the kind of things he never saw for himself when he swore to stay single in this life. Like, after a good run fattens his wallet, letting you run wild in the shops.

“C’mon on then lovie, give us a spin.”

You squealed, spinning so the soft fabric fanned around your upper thighs. “I love it! But Si, it’s too much.”

“You let me worry about that sweetheart. Just let me see how it looks comin’ offa ya.” He gripped the very thighs you teased him with, eager for his favorite part besides your smile.

He’d pick up as many extra runs as it took to keep you in small luxuries, as long as he was the one that got to keep that look on your face.

They all have tattoos, but Simon is the king. His body art is top notch, because he’s very discerning with his artists. He’s had the best from Europe to the States. Now, he only trusts Price’s old lady, Johnny, and you.

In fact, that’s how you met. You started your apprenticeship under an asshole who bailed before it was over, and took a chance on the dangerous shop everyone warned you away from. Mrs. Price was everything you were afraid of AT FIRST. You later understood it was because the shop is 141 affiliated, and she had to be harshly discerning to protect herself and her family.

Once you got over that phase, she was unendingly sweet, and dedicated to helping you hone your craft.

Simon saw you when he came to fix the sink in the shop’s little kitchen. You were the only one there, intensely focused on a practice skin arm.

You were beautiful, hair wild from you tugging at in concentration, and your tongue poking out slightly. How long had you been working here?

“I knew you needed a hand around here, but that’s a bit far isn’t it?”

You jumped, startled out of your practice, the buzz of the tattoo gun stopping. “Oh my god! I don’t know what scared me more, you, or that joke.”

The two of you kept each other company in your respective tasks, until he was done. In admitting you were aching to do a real tattoo again, he found himself volunteering on instinct.

At first you resisted, worried about the ethics in your mentor’s shop, and he came up with the genius idea of going back to your place. Smooth Simon.

By the end of the night he was sure he’d never need another artist again.

He’s often as busy as Price, sometimes more so. It takes a lot to run a charter as is, but to establish a table so far from home calls on him more than any other era in his time with the club. On top of that, he often pulls double duty, acting as an enforcer with Konig.

That’s where he really appreciates you understanding, and accepting, his lifestyle. You’ve made a home for him, and he only hopes he conveys how much he appreciates that.

—

He comes home with a headache taking up residence in every corner of his head more and more these days. It was all he could do to kick his boots off, and not collapse on the nearest thing that could hold his weight. His room felt miles away. Downside of living in the dorms.

He drug himself to the clubhouse kitchen, prepared to dig around for some painkillers, when he saw a post-it note on the island next to a napkin with two pills.

Ignore if not Si!

Dinner in the fridge + cake in the dish on the counter. Eat and get your ass in bed with me.

He chuckled, headache long forgotten when he realized you were in his bed. However, his heart and stomach wouldn’t let him ignore the home cooked meal in the fridge, and once he’d savored every bite, he was a blur on his way to his room.

You were curled up in one of his shirts, sleeping soundly on the side of the bed he favored. He stripped, leaving his clothes on the floor, only stopping to deposit his kutte on the dresser, before scooping you into his arms.

“Si..” you murmured sleepily, burying your face in his chest, seeking something to lay on after being picked up.

“‘s alright sweet pea.”

“Glad you’re home, don’t let go.” You were slightly more awake now, but not by much.

“Was never an option.” He got into bed, relaxing in the warm spot you left behind, and situated you next to him in his arms.

Assuming big spoon position, his hands roamed your form, finding momentary purchase wherever they could. He felt a little guilty for further waking you up, but it occurred to him that you must have seen the day he’d had, and had taken the time to attempt to make it a little better. You could be home in your own bed, but you chose to be there for him. He was starving for you.

His lips created the same desperate patterns across your cheek and neck that his hands created on your body. He gripped your thigh, giving the plush skin a squeeze, before hooking your leg back over his.

There was a sharp inhale of air from you, and you pushed back against him, undoubtedly feeling him firming.

He laid his other arm under your head, letting you lay your cheek against his arm as he grasped your face. He tilted it up to grant more access to your skin for his lips.

“Taking care of me pretty bird?”

“It’s what you deserve, baby.” You slurred, squirming in sensory overload at all of his attention.

“Swear m’ going flat hunting tomorrow.” His fingers skimmed over your covered heat, grinning when your lower half bucked.

“‘s what you deserve sweetheart. Somewhere to put all your nesting to good use.”

You moaned rolling your hips back into your solid wall of a man. “Don’t tease me, I can’t help it.”

“Oh, m’not teasing pretty bird, m’ appreciating.”

He’s been called on to do many dark things for the club. Price doesn’t leave room at the table for anyone not to pull their weight, and he’s even tougher on his titled men. However, the darker jobs fall on Simon more often than anyone else, because he’s thorough, and can put the deed away somewhere, somehow, every time.

When he pulls on his mask, and just surrenders to being no one but Ghost, he’s ready to work. He never cared what anyone thought about his actions, he never had to, until you.

You’d been around rough crowds in your lifetime, but Simon was a career criminal, and so was his found family. He was sure some recollection of his deeds would reach you, and that’d be your line. In fact, he was waiting on it.

He was shocked, truly floored, to find that wasn’t what triggered you. It was how you felt he was being utilized. You didn’t like, what you felt, was the unequal distribution of the extreme jobs, and you told him as much.

When he got over his shock, his reaction was fiercely defensive of the club. It was your turn for shock, but he couldn’t help it. He felt judged about the family that owned his loyalty, by the woman that owned his heart.

You were taken aback by his ferocity, but it didn’t change your view. It created a hotbed of tension that threatened what the two of you had built, until he understood why you felt so strongly. Simon was the one taken aback when he realized your intensity came from your love for him, not a judgement of the 141. He still couldn’t wrap his head around someone loving him to that degree. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t think he was worthy of that. That’s how he was supposed to, and did, love you.

He admitted as much when the tired topic reached a fever pitch.

Simon’s close cropped blonde hair was riddled with evidence he’d been running long, frustrated fingers through it. Those same fingers pulled a cigarette from his pack,, and lit it with a calmness that didn’t reflect the current mood.

“So now you tell me what I can and can’t do? That it then?”

You snapped at the accusation, breaking the promise you’d made to yourself not to raise your voice. “I’m not telling you what you can and can’t do, stop reframing what I fucking say!”

“Grow the fuck up, you’re not a bloody baby. You knew what I did when we got together. I protect the group, I’m meant to be the first line of defense. I pull my weight, my life be damned!”

Your eyes widened in shock at the underlying implication of his words. His own expression wasn’t familiar enough to you for you to place.

“The table doesn’t make me do the ugly bits, most times I volunteer.” He flicked ash onto the pavement, his finger tapping with more force than necessary. “Whether I die, or get pinched, I can be replaced. ‘s my job to stand in front of the ones that can’t.”

His chest heaved with trapped frustration, voice guttural, raw with emotion. “That’s my use.”

You couldn’t place a time where your heart had ever hurt for anyone the way it hurt for him in that moment. It was a physical pain, pin pricking across your chest in a wave, and momentarily halting your ability to speak. You loved this man, fuck the moon, he hung galaxies in your eyes, and that’s what he thought of himself?

Simon, studying your expression and not liking the shame it made him feel, turned away. He didn’t know what to do with shame, especially in front of you. He’d said too much, and his mind was racing to find a way to undo it. Stiffening at the feeling of your arms barely meeting around his large form, he fought the urge to pull away.

Your voice was shaky, laden with the tears you didn’t bother fighting the fruitless fight to stop. “I wish I could get you to understand how untrue that is. I wish I knew where to start.”

He turned back around, but refused to meet your eyes. That startled you. Simon had never been afraid to lock eyes with you. He backed down from no one.

“Wasn’t an answer you liked then lovie? Sorry to disappoint.” He said quietly, taking a last drag before he ended the cigarette under his boot, and walked off back towards the clubhouse.

Tears streamed down your face at a faster rate now, and you tried in vain to swipe them away quickly. You weren’t sure what to say. Not then, too much was in the air as it was, and things needed to cool, but this clearly wasn’t settled

You only knew what you wanted to do. Hold him. Hold him until he saw how fucked his outlook was, and how much worth he really had.

Long out of town rides to create a bubble with just you and him. No specific destination, you just ride until you can both believe you’re the only two people you know.

He throws you a surprise party when you get certified as a tattoo artist, and Mrs. Price releases you from your apprenticeship to a chair of your own.

No one can believe Ghost is throwing someone any kind of party, but they don’t dare deny him as he enlists them in different tasks. He took the whole thing very seriously, and left no room for mistakes. No one, not even Soap, was careless enough to spoil the surprise. Simon wanted perfection.

It was obvious to anyone who watched his love struck gaze follow you when you were around, but if anyone doubted it before, they didn’t now. This man loves you.

Simon sometimes comes to you with a design he’s made for his next tattoo. It’s never elaborate, and it’s usually more utilitarian than aesthetic. He trusts you to make it pretty, he knows you will. He just wants to better convey his idea, or so you think.

In reality, he just likes when you praise him, and he can be part of your passion. He’s constantly amazed by your artistry, and humbled that you let him be a part of it. Essentially, you two collaborate on his tattoos in an undeniably intimate way.

He unceremoniously comes to you with a scrap of paper, something he’s sketched over the past few days.

“Somethin’ f’ya to look over when you get the chance.” He mutters before giving you a long kiss and leaving the shop.

You study the lines, shaky but serviceable, and the design clear. Your mind immediately began to think of ways to tie it into his existing tattoo’s style and his tastes. All the while, you kicked your feet, ecstatic that once again, the most complex person you knew was trusting you with this responsibility.

Si had some serious, high quality pieces on his body, and he thought enough of your hand to add to that.

Simon is usually more affectionate when you’re alone. In public, it’s mostly gliding fingers across your back, or a quick brush of his lips across your forehead. BUT, sometimes his intrusive thoughts win, and he has to slap your ass. This can happen anywhere, anytime.

You’re bent over the tattoo chair, disinfecting and scrubbing, and you swear you hear his hand cutting through air before you feel the smack.

“Si!”

“You put it there sweetheart.”

Shooting range dates. You’ve been judged by some of your more…conventional friends, but you’re a gun girlie (which turns Simon on like nothing he’s ever experienced), and you don’t care. They tried to make you feel like he was being inconsiderate taking you there. Meanwhile, it was damn near your demand.

Simon loves having friendly competitions, random kisses, and exchanging shitty jokes. Seeing you get excited, and engaging in a little tech/spec talk about a gun you love, gets Simon bricked up in 10 seconds flat.

You truly believe he’s taken you in hidden parts of the range more than either of your beds at this point.

Makes you keep track of football season when he’s away. Almost put you in a box and mailed you far away from him when you assumed he meant American football season.

“Don’t ever hurt me like that again lovie, I won’t be held responsible.”

Punishes you with edging and cockwarming if you miss any important details. It’s especially excruciating when he’s just returned, and all you want is him to stretch you out. Simon is a mean dom, and he won’t be moved by sympathy.

“Please Si, I only missed one game.” you whined, trying to get him to come back to where he’d just spent time building you up to fall on his tongue, only to pull away at the last second.

He smirked, rising to his feet which clued you into the fact that he really wasn’t going to finish you off then. “That’s a bad girl. Have the missing orgasm to match.”

——-

Gaz:

Lives for where you live. Your little house is his home away from home. Sometimes the gang can be on business that keeps them on the road for weeks, and the last thing he wants when he comes back, is to continue to be locked in close quarters with other guys.

That’s when you know he’s skipping clubhouse life to crash with you for a while. You love it as much as him.

Scented candles and incense, sweet laundry detergent, soft materials, home cooked meals. It’s such a soft juxtaposition to his previous journey.

Your hands are all over him, soothing bruises and kissing him over in mapped out patterns only known to you.

Kyle may not know the difference between a single thing on your beauty table, or much about the things in your bathroom cabinets, but he knows he loves how it all smells/looks on you when he’s running his nose across your skin.

“Baby, I gotta get ready for work.”

Kyle hummed in acknowledgement, but kept you pinned to the overstuffed couch, kissing your thighs in his own personal ritual. The two of you had been sequestered away for two days since he’d been back, but he still couldn’t get enough of you.

“Be good for me love, I won’t make you late.”

“Liar.” You giggled when he pinched you in retaliation. “If you do what it feels like you’re about to do, I won’t make it to the shop until noon.”

“Not a liar babe, you know that better than anyone else.” He pushed your knees up until they pressed against your chest. “I promise, you’ll be the first one there. Can’t say in what state though.”

Being the club secretary, it may seem like Kyle has the plushier job at the table. Wrong. He sees as much action as the other guys, and he likes to stay in shape. That’s fine by you, because you reap the benefits when you get to watch him working out at your place.

Kyle Garrick doing burpees and up-downs in your tiny backyard, clad in nothing but gray sweat shorts, and a thin gold chain against his chest, isn’t a sight that should be free. Yet, after Kyle has finished his mission of witnessing you walk funny at least once, it’s a sight you’re treated to when he sinks back into his home routine.

You somehow think you’re safe to creep-watch from the back doorway while you enjoy your green tea, even though Kyle catches you every time. He just always knew when your eyes were on him.

Without even turning to give you a look he called your name, laughing softly. “I should start charging admission.”

“I was thinking the same thing!” You stuck your tongue out at his back, slamming the door when he revealed he somehow saw that too.

Kyle comes to the salon and hangs with you between appointments. Sometimes he watches you work, and fake flirts with customers to get you more money. He’s great for business.

“Cost a little extra, yeah? But myself, I love a bird that sweats the details.” Kyle’s brown eyes and bright smile were a lethal combination against free will, you knew this for a fact.

The soccer mom in your chair ducks her head under his attention, cheeks filling in with red, as she tells you she changed her mind about the rhinestones.

You appreciate the efforts towards fattening your wallet, but sometimes he’s so effective, you get annoyed and drag him to the break room to remind him you own him.

When you ride with him, he loves looking down and seeing the pretty designs of your nails grasping his chest. Something about the contrast of hot pink, or pearlescent purple against the black leather of his kutte does it for him.

Kyle is definitely on the calmer side most times, especially for his lifestyle, but the fastest way to break that is someone meaning you harm.

You were out at a crowded club with the 141, their ladies, and some friends of the club. It was a celebration of good finances and a successful legal dodge.

The guys clung to a dark VIP section, there for the drinks and victory lap more than the dancing. On the other hand, you and the other girls were not there to sit idle.

After a tense few months, the cause of your respective relationship ups and downs with the guys, you guys deserved to cut loose. The table agreed, with your men shouting words of encouragement and flirtatious innuendo to hype you up.

The whole bar was enthralled by you and the other girl’s dancing, singing, and general untethered energy. It was contagious. You especially, you had a few drinks in you, and all that could currently keep your attention was the music.

There was, unfortunately, one outsider who got a little too enthralled with the performance.

When you peeled away from the group, following the uptempo rhythm, he thought that was his time to make his move.

You felt him press up against you while your eyes were closed, assuming it was Kyle, you almost ground back against him. Then you smelt the liquor. Kyle liked a drink like everyone else, and you’d even seen him drunk, but this was someone who’d been at it for a while. Disgustingly sour, too close, and ultimately not your man.

You sent a sharp hit back with your elbow, turning to confirm what you knew. It wasn’t Kyle. He grunted, but pushed forward again making you hold your hand up in a warning.

“I don’t think so.” you waved him off, laughing at the prospect of entertaining him.

Angered by your laughter, he got bolder, shouting to be heard. “Well I think so, but I’m real interested in knowing why you don’t.”

“Because I said what I said, and I have a man.” You were tipsy, but there was an underlying fire to your words lending them solidity. “Fuck off!”

He bristled at another dismissal. “Bitc-“

Kyle had appeared, most likely having started making his way to you once the man got too close, and clapped him on the shoulder. His expression said that he had heard at least some of what was said.

“Hi baby!” You shouted, a little loud even for the club, but that made it endearing. “That’s my man.” You told the asshole.

“Use your ears before I send you home carrying them.” He was gripping the man’s shoulder so tightly you should see the sharp knuckle bones flexing, his rings catching the light.

The man looked at the kutte, and the expression on Kyle’s face, and the exact moment he realized the man would act on the threat literally became apparent.

If that wasn’t enough, you had the ladies at your back, and the table alert and waiting for the call. It was over for the bastard before it even started.

He raised his hands and scurried into the crowd, aiming for the door.

“I love you baby.” You crooned, throwing your arms around him and covering his face with kisses.

He laughed. “I love you too, even when I know I’m going to be holding your pretty hair back all day.”

When the gang has to have a tense table vote in a briefing, their equivalent to some other mc’s “church”, you always wait for Kyle. As secretary, it’s his job to gather information on other gangs, as well as any important changes in the area, and his council is called on first.

You’re waiting for him right after, inviting him back to your house for the night, knowing he won’t want to stay in his dorm. He won’t show it then, but he’s disappointed, and when you get him home, you let him vent to his mind’s content.

All the while, you’re drawing him a bath, doing a light skin routine on his face, greasing his scalp, and curling up on the couch with his back against your chest.

You know his brothers have his best interest at heart, and respect his role in the club, but sometimes he can get in his head about it, and that’s when you step in.

——-

Soap:

Johnny kept his lifestyle a secret from you at first. You’d only been hooking up for a couple of weeks before you both confessed to wanting more.

The crew had mocked him relentlessly about his inability to keep a relationship casual.

“Give it up mate, you ain’t even foolin’ yourself!” Gaz had clapped him on the back, laughing right in his face. “You start up with a girl right, and it’s over. You’re looking for a house by sunup.”

“Och, piss off with ya! I can keep it casual!” Indignant, and maybe a little drunk, he elbowed the man on the other side of him. “Tell em’ Ghost.”

Simon glanced at him sideways, bourbon halfway to his lips, careful it didn’t spill due to the prodding. “Johnny, some pretty bird starts chirpin’ in your ear and it’s curtains. Now fuck off.”

He couldn’t believe his friends, no — brothers, had such little faith in him.

Cut to a few days later, with him balls deep in you, confessing he wanted more.

“I’ll be good to ya bon, I swear it. I’m all for ya, just be for me?”

The only thing that lessened the embarrassment of proving his friends right, was that you seemed relieved, and admitted it was what you wanted too.

He couldn’t help it. Ever since he’d been patched in, besides the camaraderie, he was enamored with the relationship between Price and his old lady. There were plenty of solid old lady/old man pairings around him, but something about the way the club queen cared for her man, kept the other girls in order, and still maintained a life for herself was astounding to watch.

He couldn’t help chasing that in every girl he’d gotten with since he’d joined up. So many girls wanted the mystique of a sexy biker, but that’s all he was for them. Either a living dildo, or an attraction they could make their friends jealous with. Things never got very far outside of the bedroom. Except once, but that didn’t go over so well in the end.

He wanted that ride or die bond so badly, he couldn’t wait to have the perfect old lady to wife up and fill a house with brats.

With you, he prayed he was it for you, because you had quickly become it for him.

You were a good girl. Specifically, his good girl now. He felt it was highly unlikely you would go for his lifestyle, and so he kept it under wraps at first. He knew he had to tell you at some point, but he wanted to soak up as much time as he could in case you checked out.

“Nah sweetheart, it’s nah like that. We get a little rough, but mainly, we just appreciate bikes.”

“Do ya think I have what it takes to be in a criminal organization? And with ya not knowin’ no less!?”

“Let’s talk about something else bon, did ya ken your thighs look cute warming my ears?”

Guilt eating through him like acid, especially when the club picks up on the fact that he hasn’t brought you around. Anytime Soap has a girl in his bed more than once, he’s parading around the club with her in no time. They know there’s something special about you, and that baffles them even more. Soap claims it’s because you live one town over, which you do, but Gaz calls him on his shit.

He’s hyper defensive, and fights until he’s blue in the face before he admits it’s true. He’s afraid you’ll turn out like the others, or reject him all together. He’s so far gone at this point, he’d rather you use him than leave him.

Price doesn’t like it, and councils him against lying to you any further for numerous reasons. Soap promises he’ll tell you soon, but he’s trying to convince himself as well as his president.

Eventually he couldn’t hide it anymore, but it wasn’t exactly his choice when the curtain got pulled back.

The two of you had been to a late movie, Johnny finally having had time to squeeze in a date with you after a series of back-to-back runs. You’d suggested coming to him for once to take the burden off. Before he could object, you’d admitted that you were already in town, and he’d rushed to meet you.

Though he was nervous about you hearing something, or seeing someone off-color that he knew, he couldn’t deny he loved the day he spent with you.

He never needed a reason to want to kiss you, but something about your soft smile under the parking lot lights compelled him right then. Maybe because your expression said just how content you were to be with him, and he buried that in his heart.

“Wait a minute.” He stopped you, lips on yours before you could ask why.

Parking lots didn’t exactly get safer as they got darker, and emptier, but he couldn’t stop once his lips touched yours. Then you started tugging on the curly hair of his Mohawk like you did when you’d really gotten into things.

He was just about to suggest he stay over at your place, when you were interrupted by a cop. You assumed he was going to warn you about loitering and apologized, but he and Johnny knew that wasn’t what it was about. He called Johnny “Soap”, and you were confused as to how they knew each other.

“Oh, Scotboy here goes back with the law a long ways back home.” The cop tried to clap Johnny on the shoulder only for him to violently dodge it. “Easy. I’m not booking you on anything…tonight.”

You were at a loss for what the cop thought he could book Johnny on, and called it out as harassment. Johnny knew, by the sick expression on his face, that the cop was eager to spill it all once he realized how little you knew about the man you were clutching. He tried to prevent that from happening.

“Yeah well, you’re just wastin’ time then, and we have a drive.” Johnny’s arm tightened around your shoulder as he started to lead you away.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what he’s told you, but if you were my daughter I’d want you to know. That’s a dangerous man you’re on the arm of.”

“Shut up.” Johnny growled, and he knew you had to be thinking about how you’d never seen him like this, but he’d also never been this angry around you.

“Johnny…” you pushed at him to try and get him to move, but he was rooted in rage.

He knew where the cop was taking it.

“This was when you were a prospect back in England right? The number you did on the guys from that other charter…interpol still talks about it. Oh wait…they never proved it was you did they?”

Johnny thumbed his nose and sniffed, jutting out his chin in utter opposition of the man in front of him. “Nah, wasnae even in the country at the time.”

“That’s right. You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve only read the reports our precinct got when you boys moved to town.” The obnoxious officer bounced his palm off his forehead in a mock gesture.

Johnny felt you squeeze his arm, grounding him for the moment, and he thought you might be saying something. His ears sounded like the Grand Rapids ran through them. A hot rage was settling into his chest, and spilling into other parts of his being.

The smug expression of the cop, one of the ones on the force who’d made things personal with the club was

“Johnny!” You shook him, finally getting through to him. “I want to leave.”

He exhaled, softening at your expression. Little tremors of adrenaline wracked through him, but he still led you towards his bike by a firm grip.

“You know, they included pictures in those files they sent over. What you did to those guys..” The cop whistled from behind you.

Johnny helped you into your helmet, watching as your eyes raced with questions, but you were so good for him. You would wait to ask him.

He brushed his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks. “Ignore him bon. Whatever he says, please.”

“But, the real shame is what happened to Anna.” The cop continued.

In a straight shot, Johnny launched himself at him. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth!”

“They cut her up pretty bad. Was her nose always on the side of her-”

—

He knew it was bait, and he admitted as much later, but he’d taken the active grenade in his hand all the same. The wounds that piece of shit poked were too raw not to, on top of probably killing everything between you and him.

Everything was designed to hit a critical point in him. His past deeds, Anna, and most importantly, you.

All he could think about was if he was going to lose you after tonight, there was no way he wasn’t going to make it count all over the bastard’s face.

The local police had been looking for something, anything, to get the club on, but they’d been too careful. That’s what Price had told you on the way to the precinct. Johnny had dialed for you while the cop was getting back to his feet.

“Was any of what he said true?” You were clutching your purse the way you had since you’d gotten into the car with Price and the club’s lawyer.

“I don’t know what you mean love?” Price looked at you cooly, not giving anything away, though you were sure he knew what you meant.

“Never mind.” You shook your head. “I know it’s true. Did Johnny really hurt those guys? Who’s Anna?”

Price kept his eyes on the road, while the lawyer kept his attention on his phone. The air couldn’t have been more tense,

“You should talk to your boy sweetheart. Don’t let some future desk-riding prick make you doubt the man who’d rip out his own heart just to show you it’s yours.”

You swallowed, hard, and didn’t say anything else until you got to the station.

“Um…I think I’m just going to Uber home. Tell Johnny I’ll call him.”

Price nodded, but his look was disapproving. “‘m sorry to hear that,” he adjusted his dark beanie. “But if that’s what you think is best.”

You did not call him. Not later when you were sure he had been released, and not the next day. You wouldn’t even open the never-ending text thread between you two.

He texted you early enough to be apologetic about it, and you had to push your phone to the far side of your bed to stop yourself from responding.

You went about your daily routine, getting ready for your shift at the diner. Your one room apartment didn’t allow you the luxury of pretending your phone wasn’t blowing up with text messages, but you were too afraid you’d cave if you saw the screen while attempting to silence it.

He showed up at the diner, and you pretended to be too busy in the back until he left.

He waited outside of your place, but you wouldn’t come down, going so far as to turn off the lights when you realized he was there.

No call was answered, no text replied to.

Johnny was a wreck. So much so, that as furious as Price and Ghost had been, as much as they’d come down on him, they weren’t sure he’d even heard it. They saw his regret, he did have his brothers and their families in mind, along with the fact that he was a higher ranked member who set a piss poor example for prospects and basic members.

The fact that his stunt could’ve cost them their freedom. He saw all of that.

But he was HURTING. Physically, mentally, emotionally. It was all Johnny could do to roll out of bed and do the basics before he crawled back again.

All the club girls dropped by his dorm. Some to be flirtatious, which he lashed out at, some to show sympathy.

Mrs. Price and Ghost’s girl were especially gentle. It’s the darkest period in Johnny’s life, even when factoring in the Anna situation. It’s clear to all around him, you’re it for him. His soul is yours, and he’s dying without you.

It was Simon who came to you and changed your mind. He couldn't take seeing Johnny that way. The whole table was worried, but Johnny was a little brother to the taciturn specter. He’d only see him like this once before, and this was ten times worse.

In the early afternoon, the diner’s customers were nothing but truckers and elderly folks. So when the 6’4 blond with trunk-thick arms, and a permanent scowl walked in, there was no ignoring him. You noticed the kutte, and thought about making a break for the back, but his look said ‘try it’, and you thought better of it.

Instead, you wound up in a back booth with him, taking your 15 minute break.

“‘m not the preachin’ sort, so I’ll get on with it.” He stared right through you, lighting a cigarette. “‘s no business of mine what you and Johnny decide to do, but you need to talk to him.”

You started to tell him no smoking, but didn’t feel like exerting the effort. Let your boss deal with it if it mattered.

Your hands trembled, so you put them beneath the table in your lap. “If it’s none of your business, then why are you here?”

”Because, it’s destroying him. You’re destroying him.” He turned for a moment to exhale away from your face, and then his gaze was cutting right back to you. “Lad’s a mess and a half without you. We’ve tried to sort him out, but it’s gonna take you.”

”He lied to me!“ the exclamation left your mouth without a thought to volume control, and you pointedly ignored the stares you knew were at your back.

”You knew.” he said simply. “You may not have known the specifics, and we told him not to do it that way, but you knew.”

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to express the million thoughts in your head.

”You may be a town over, but our name gets around. I know you’ve heard somethin’.” He tipped the ash in the glass of water you’d gotten him. “You’re a smart bird by Johnny’s account.”

“If you told him not to lie, then why are you telling me not to be upset?”

“‘m not, ‘m tellin’ you to hear him out. Put him out of his misery, whatever you decide.”

The man left the booth, standing back to his full height and casting a shadow over the booth.

“He’s a right fuckin’ mess. Loves you more than life.”

“More than Anna?” The name that had been swirling around in your mind came out in a semi-bitter question.

There was something that could have possibly been a flinch, but you weren’t sure. It made you regret mentioning it either way.

He stubbed out the cigarette. “He’ll be round yours by the time you get off.”

He was. Looking completely unconfident and nervous about being there. His eyes were bloodshot, and his beloved mohawk showed signs of too many anxious tugs.

This wasn’t what you were used to with the confident man, and you didn’t like it. You understood, you looked the same way, but you didn’t like it.

He was apologizing constantly, between spilling streams of exposition that only served to confuse you, instead of clearing things up. You finally had to tell him it would just be easier if you could ask questions instead, and he sat back and became an open book.

It went all evening, and then well into the morning. Every question led into lengthy conversation.

—

“Who’s Anna?”

“...A good lass who didn’t deserve what she got.”

—

“So it’s definitely more than just appreciating bikes. Why?”

“They’re my family, and they’ve always had my back while lettin’ me be myself. If I have to do somethin’ a lil dodgy now and then, that’s a small price to pay.”

—

“I don’t doubt you love me Johnny, you make it impossible to, but how can I trust you after this?”

“By takin’ the chance to believe me when I say I’d rather die than go through this again. If honesty brings you back to me, I’ll never leave it out again.”

The sun is rising by the time the two of you are talked out. You make him stay, seeing that his sleep deprivation was starting to collect its due. It was you who didn’t sleep while you pet his hair from where he laid on your lap, and thought over your feelings.

He wakes when you inform him he has a phone call. He tells you to answer it, and you realize it’s a gesture towards the honest leaf turn.

He took the time to honesty dump with you, so you admit to him that while you’re still hurt, your mind's made up about taking him back.

It should have frightened you how quickly you sank back into things with Johnny, but what actually frightened you was the reason why. You realized you were just as addicted to him as he was to you. How had you lasted the past couple of weeks?

It’s a mutual obsession, only strengthened by a period of absence. Something he vowed would never happen again.

You let him give you your first tattoo, and you even let him pick the design. He couldn’t believe you trusted him with the honor, and he wound up asking if you were sure five times.

“Baby, yes!” you laughed, squeezing his cheeks as a form of cute aggression over his heart eyes.

This was such an intimate act for him, that he made sure you were completely alone in his dorm room when the day came. The room is spotless for once, sanitized to government standards. You can’t help but notice that he’s lit candles in your favorite scent, and his playlist is all soft music for once.

He spent weeks sketching the perfect concept, and even created variations for your choosing. He went through soooo many pages, unwilling to settle when it came to his girl.

In the end, it was decided, and he got to work on the inner wrist tattoo. All the while, he was checking in with you to make sure you were good.

“It’s just a small piece baby, I’m ok.” You always pressed a kiss to his nose to reassure him and get him back to work.

He looked so handsome, locked in concentration, that it almost completely distracted from the pain. You’d seen him work before, and you loved it, but this wasn’t just work right now. He was giving you something important, and you sensed that.

When he finally finished, he sheepishly, almost fearfully, asked you what you thought.

“It’s everything Johnny. When everyone asks who’s the talent behind it, I can’t wait to say he’s my man.”

Soap has no regard for anyone or any place when he wants you, which is all the time. You’re all over the clubhouse together. The couches, the hallways, the armory. Officially, clubhouse outer-walls are your spots during cookouts.

Gaz walked into the storage room, focused on finding a part for a customer. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you through the empty space on a tall shelf.

“Hi, eh, Kyle!” All that was visible was your face, and he wondered for a second why you were out of breath.

“Hey (Y/N), what’re you doing back here?” He gave you a side glance and smile, his attention mainly on the organized shelves.

“I’m..” you bit your lip, unable to form another word as your eyes rolled back.

Kyle froze, realizing what was happening. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me mate?!”

“You walked in on us!” Johnny’s indignant cry came from below his line of vision.

Sooo many lunch break dates. Technically, Johnny is on shift at the garage, and should be preparing for the next day’s run, but his best girl needs him :( . You work so hard at that cafe, and they never appreciate you. Not like he does.

So when he takes the work pickup truck to get you, knowing Price has told him a million times it’s not for that, he can’t be bothered to care.

“Johnny, tell me you did not go across town to buy me this sandwich.” You already knew the answer, and you wanted to scold him for neglecting himself again. “You’re gonna be late getting back to the shop!”

“You love it though. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of ya.”

“That’s not the point, you-“

“You’re so pretty baby.”

And you melt and forget to be upset.

You can’t stay mad at Johnny with heart eyes and loving, grabby hands. Especially when those grabby hands start to get a little more focused…

What happens in the work truck, stays in the work truck. Until he gets drunk and brags at a club party….

The fun times were well and good, but Soap knew that the day would come when you got a glimpse at the uglier parts of the life. He barely got you back, and you throwing up your hands and declaring it was all too much was all he could think about.

They’d been having issues with the Shadows MC, and it was starting to boil over. They didn’t like the 141 moving in on their territory, but his table had made it clear that wasn’t up to them. This resulted in many skirmishes he could keep under wraps, but then it came to a head.

They’d hit the Shadows hard at one of their core locations, and in preparation for retaliation, Price and Ghost had called a lockdown. This meant all old ladies, kids, and friends of the club were to hunker down at the club compound until they gave the ok.

The day was here, and he’d been dreading it. He couldn’t very well leave you out there, he hadn’t exactly been subtle that you were his girl, but surely you wouldn’t go for it.

Nothing had been asked of you so far, and he was trying his best to keep from burdening you like the typical old lady. He felt you’d be less likely to leave if he kept the weightier things from you.

He must have paced up and down your street in the dark for over an hour. His phone was blowing up with demands he ‘get his ass back to the compound’ with you, ‘NOW’, but he had to do it right. It wasn’t easy to say “We mowed down some of our enemies, and destroyed their operation, and some guys could make you pay for that.”

He could lose you tonight. He could relive his past.

When he finally did get up the nerve to tell you, he was shocked at how well you took it. He knew you were scared, and you couldn’t have been too happy either, but he loved you for your strength in that moment.

All you did was quietly pack, while his mouth ran a mile-a- minute. Swinging wildly between telling jokes, assuring you you’d fit in just fine with the other old ladies, and apologizing. You kept telling him you were fine, but your smile didn’t reach your eyes.

It took a week to beat the Shadows back. In that time Johnny had been in and out of safe houses, with barely a spare minute to check in with you. If he was being honest, he was terrified.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that when he got back to the compound, you wouldn’t be there. You’d be long gone, and when he went to your place, the things he’d left (so sneakily) would be in a box waiting on the doorstep.

He was so sure of this, that he wanted to go by your place first, but his bone-weary brothers were barely sitting upright on their bikes. Battered and bruised to hell, he couldn’t ask them to indulge his paranoia. The table didn’t like to be too far from each other until they were fully assured they were whole back home.

He was the last to walk through the door, to the shock of his brothers, but he didn’t want to tell them he was probably about to scream his throat raw when he saw you weren’t there.

He clenched and unclenched his aching fists in anxiety. ‘Just look around the room you daft fucker!’ He mentally scolded himself.

He didn’t get a chance to. You barreled into him, arms locking around his neck. He stumbled back, weariness and shock combining to make his footing unstable, but his back hit the solid metal door behind him.

“I was so fucking worried.” You whispered into his neck, and he felt his neck dampen with what he presumed were tears.

“I was too…” he admitted, finding it in him to grip you to his person with a desperate strength.

Relief flooded his body when you started pressing kisses all over his face, and all he could do was stand there. Receiving your love.

“Oh!” You tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you. “Johnny put me down, the girls told me about how tired you guys are when something like this happens. You should be resting.”

“I’ll get to that bonnie, just keep kissing me like that.” He whispered, hands slipping into the back pocket of your jeans to keep you close.

You took over as soon as you got him back to his dorm room. You helped him undress, made sure he didn’t collapse in the shower, and even straightened his precious Mohawk while he struggled to pull on the sweats you’d grabbed him. All the while, awkward apologies from him. From you, excited recollections of all the things you’d learned from the strong women around you over the week.

Johnny supposed he had them to thank. In the back of his mind he’d been wondering what flipped the switch, and gifted him the kind of welcome home he used to envy the taken members of the club for getting. You were the best girlfriend he ever had, but an old lady was something else, yet here you were, excelling at that too.

And later, in his room after the hot shower, he collapsed face first on the bed. It took one, deep inhale of the fresh linen to know someone had done laundry. He exhaled with a hum, openly appreciating the clean scent.

“Yeah, you can thank me later.” You laughed, entering the room from his bathroom.

Johnny heard the sound of a lid pop, but was too far gone to look back and see what it was. Then you straddled his back, your soft hands kneading out a week’s worth of tension, self-inflicted and otherwise. He groaned, feeling the soothing lotion follow your hands over the peaks and valleys of his muscular frame.

“Addin’ this to my tab then?” He slurred, half in the dream realm, half with the love of his life.

“Yep, but I know you’re good for it.” You leaned down, nipping his ear, and making him mewl in frustration as he hardened against the mattress, knowing there’d be nothing he could do about it at the moment.

He used the last of what he had to flip you over, mentally cataloging the adorable squeak you let out. Cupping your cheeks, he shared a soft look with you for just a moment, before he sealed his lips over yours. All he could do was hope you could feel everything he wanted to say behind the movement of his lips.

Judging by your soft sighs, he guessed you could.

He pulled away, settling half on you, half off. “I’m settlin’ my debts soon as I’m up hen. Bet on it.”

He makes Ghost promise to take care of you if something ever happens to him.

“Johnny, shut fuck up,” Ghost glared at him, faint facial scars following his frown. “You’ll outlive us all.”

Johnny stared at him from across the meeting table, more serious than a personification of the sun had any right to be. They were the only two in the briefing room, for some reason the place felt sacred enough to Soap for such a request.

“‘m serious VP, that’s ma heart, I love her.” His accent thickened with emotion, and he sipped his bar as if to wash it back.

His fingers flexed around the sweating glass. “‘m gonna marry her.”

“Lads and I knew that the first time you talked about her.”

Soap smiled at that, but his expression quickly returned to its serious state. “Sweet girl and me have been talkin’ about kids, preferably after.”

A fond quiet bloomed between them at that admission. The two of you had told no one else, and Johnny felt guilty violating your pillow talk confessionals, but he hoped it would get Ghost to agree.

“Want that more than anythin’ VP, but I can’t pull the trigger until I know they’ll be looked after.”

“The club-“

“Not just the club!” He ran a hand through his mohawk in frustration.

Why couldn’t the stubborn fucking giant just agree?

“I know the club will look after them in general. I know I can trust our table, hope I can trust the other charters.” He sighed, refocusing. “You’re my best friend Simon. I just have to know my girl, and my bairn, would always have you at their back. If I died.”

“Wouldn’t happen. I’d lay my life down so you could make it back-“

Johnny shook his head, choosing not to repeat himself. Instead, he gave his friend a pleading look.

He could see a storm of thoughts and emotions competing for dominance in his friend’s mind. His expression didn’t change much, but it was in his eyes if you knew him.

He saw why Simon was resisting, he didn’t feel worthy of being looked to in that way.

Finally, Ghost responded after grinding his cigarette out in the dish on the table. “Promise the same f’me then. I’ve fucked her life up enough, shouldn’t still be doin’ it when I’m gone.”

“On my honor.” Soap didn’t even have to think, it was an instinct.

“Then tell your missus you’re ready. I’ll cover my end.”

———

Price:

Head honcho. Chief. The Boss. Captain of the ship. It’s all the same no matter who calls him what, President Price is in charge.

He founded the club after leaving his original due to lack of loyalty, and thoughtless endeavors. He works overtime to make sure his club doesn’t fall in the same way. His code of ethics may not make a lick of sense to anyone outside of the outlaw life, but they’ve garnered the respect and admiration of some of the toughest men around the globe.

They’d follow him through hell because they know he’d be the first one in.

When they’re on a run, selling guns or attending a meeting in neutral territory, John’s mind is all business until business is done. Then it’s all you. He loves hearing his guys talk about how they’re going to spend their new check, or swapping stories about their old ladies. Sometimes, he even joins in.

But what he really wants to do is celebrate with you. Most times you’re already up at the compound. Seeing to the legitimate businesses, taking care of the girls, helping the member’s families, etc.

He respects what you do, what you’re capable of, beyond borders. However, he can’t help but be jealous. You always come to him first, tight hug and a long soft kiss, but then you’re quickly looking over his guys. The men revel in it, almost becoming kittens under your motherly ministrations. Especially Soap and Gaz, who you’re in the same age group as, but you scold all the same.

When the last man has been sent on his way, he’s dragging you away to the little bedroom off his office. He knows you find it amusing, to see his selfishness win out over any tiredness he’s feeling.

Before the door can even close, he’s pulling you close and kissing you his favorite way. A kiss he didn’t know he was capable of until you became his wife. Anytime he was gone too long, you did something that knocked him off his feet, or your affection wasn’t directed solely at him, he kissed you that way.

He cradled your head, holding you steady when he pressed his lips to yours. He left no room for there to be room between the two of you. Rough thumbs slid under your chin, tilting your head up slightly before he slid his tongue between your lips. He knew he had to release you soon, let you remember how to breathe, but it was hard to fight the hunger.

“Nothing flatters me like my big biker husband being unable to share me for two seconds.” you teased, but your teasing came out in short puffs, as your lungs weren’t cooperating with you at the moment.

He could feel you swaying, going dizzy, and he brushed his beard over your ear to make you squirm before he said. “Jump love.”

You did, feeling his heavy hands grasp your thighs seconds later. He slid your legs over his hips, encouraging you to lock down around his waist.

“I’m just making sure you take care of what’s yours.” he thrust upward, hardness touching. “I promised it to you that first time.”

He laid you across the bed, staring down at you with a darkened smirk. “Take some responsibility for the state of your possessions.”

He’s the head of an organization that now exists in several countries. All that responsibility is tiring, even for a man so skilled at navigating it, and there’s been many a day when all he can do is lay his head down for the pain of the headaches.

You can’t count how many times you’ve come up to the club when he didn’t come home, only to find him furiously puffing a cigar and downing shots to dull the pain.

The guys had families to feed, there were good men behind bars for them that needed to be taken care of, he had tables back home that needed guidance, there were property expenses, legal retainer fees, and more. Much more.

That meant more risky non-legit work, which meant stretching the legitimate business to cover what that brought in. He had to know when it was time to expand, when it was time to halt, and when it was time to move to something else.

But he’s just a man, one man, and you’re there to remind him of that.

“John?” You had been expecting to find him in his office, but the moment you stepped into the club house, you saw him at the bar.

He wasn’t alone.

Phillip Graves, president of the Shadows MC finished off his drink and clapped John on the back.

“We’ll talk again.” He nodded his head towards you with a wink and a smile. “Ma’am.”

Your narrowed eyes followed him out of the door, remaining there until his motorcycle’s engine was a distant roar. At that point, you turned back to your husband.

He was gripping his forehead, lit cigar balanced on the heavy crystal ashtray next to him. The last remnants of whisky mingled with the melting ice in his glass, which he threw back before attempting a fake smile.

”Hello darling, you just close up shop?”

”Yeah, and I got home to find my husband wasn’t there. What the fuck John? You said you were going to work on this.”

You tossed your purse on the counter. “And Graves?! I can’t even-“

”(Y/N), don’t start.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do not have that in me right now.”

Sighing, you placed one hand on his back, using the other to put out his cigar. He protested with a disapproving grunt, but was too tired to do more than that. Your face softened at that realization.

He pushed back from the bar a little, allowing you to slide onto his lap, legs splitting over his thighs. “I’m just worried. You can lead a table, you can lead the whole organization, but you can’t carry the whole thing on your back.”

You cupped his head like he often did to yours, and massaged the base of his skull. His eyes slid shut, body going lax, and he practically purred.

Leaning down, you scattered gentle kisses on his face, careful to leave no spot untouched, before going in for a whiskery kiss. It was here John took over, thanking you for the attention.

“You know that it’s not you I don’t trust right?” you asked between kisses. “It’s him.”

“I know, and you know I value your judgment.” He got underneath your shirt, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

There was a moment of domestic peace and quiet. You massaging his temple, and he massaging your sides. Though you trusted the capable man going soft under your hands, you hoped he wouldn’t regret whatever Graves was bringing to your door.

John doesn’t come to your shop often, but it’s not because he doesn’t support your career. It’s because he can’t watch you work for very long without wanting you biblically on every surface.

You love his open attraction to you, so it’s not exactly the easiest thing to ignore. No matter how much you try to stay focused on the job, the man is the love of your life, and he looks handcrafted by god.

Hunched over a client’s thigh, your brows were drawn in concentration on the elaborate Victorian cameo piece.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see John lounging in the plush desk chair he’d dragged over. A good distance to respect your client, but close enough, he could keep eyes on his favorite person.

Your client was amused, laughing through a wince, she nodded in John’s direction. “You’ve got a not-so-secret admirer.”

“I’ve been caught lovely, what to do now?”

”Ignore you.” You quipped before glancing up at your client. “He’s my husband.”

”Oh,” she hummed. “That explains the heart eyes.”

At that, you did have to look up, instantly wishing you hadn’t. It was a visual trap.

John, sitting there like the king he was, manspreading with no shame. Black beanie, tight jeans, dark sweater with his royal kutte draped over the sweater, and leather boots. You told him more than once he could model, to which he feigned offense.

“Focus on your work.” John admonished, but the smirk he said it though was pure sin.

Your eyes had strayed below the belt, and John was fully aware of this. Reveling in it really.

”Don’t you have a bike to fix? A prospect to bottle feed?”

”Nope,” his arms crossed behind his head, an action you saw out of the corner of your eye. “I belong to my missus this evening.”

Your client cooed, undoubtedly enjoying the banter between you and John. You did too, too much, and his bit about belonging to you made you have to pause and readjust yourself.

”Every evening really.”

”That’s nice John.” You hissed, lifting the gun from her skin to wave him off.

Your client laughed, trying hard to hold herself steady for you.

“Don’t encourage him.” you turned yourself at an angle slightly, trying and failing to ignore him.

“Well, it’s really far more than just evenings isn’t i-“

You lifted your foot from the pedal, and placed the tattoo gun on the tray next to you.

“Kitchen, now.” You gave your client a sheepish smile. “We were due for a break anyway hun. Can I get you anything?”

She was visibly entertained by you and John, after all, the two of you had become a legendary couple in these parts for a reason.

“I’m good, take your time.”

John winked at your client, strolling behind you into the back. You waited until he was in the kitchenette before sliding the door closed.

”You’re such an ass.” But your hands were already under his sweater, running up and down his chest.

You appreciated that he took up so much space in the little room, forcing the two of you together. You could blame the room’s dimensions for being all over him, and not your unwavering attraction to the man.

“I haven’t seen you in 15 hours, yes, I counted. I’m always counting when it comes to you. You can’t ask me to behave.”

Large hands slid into your hair, fingers interlocking to cradle your head. He didn’t even have to pull you in to kiss you, and he grinned, clearly also appreciating the size of the space.

“You think she’s a big enough fan to give us thirty?”

You actually have three rings. Your engagement ring, your wedding ring, and one of John’s rings that he gave you the first night you fucked.

In the quiet of the briefing room, somewhere you were surprised to be, you sat on his lap. The two of you soaked up the afterglow, the party raging outside fading to a dull noise outside of your own world. Coming down from your high, you let out a soft noise of surprise when John gripped your hair to kiss you with one hand. The other hand grasped your own, the one that had come to rest on his chest when you’d ridden him into his throne.

He slid the silver, braided band onto your ring finger, promising. “The first to come”

He loves to get in the ring and show off for you. Sometimes, there’s a loud mouth from a visiting club, or another table visiting, and John takes them to the ring they have in the back of the club’s compound.

Usually, it’s Konig’s or Simon’s domain, but it’s not because John doesn’t love dishing it out as much as them. That becomes apparent when he delivers careful, strategically brutal, blows to his opponent. Enough to win, and then a few more to humble.

You had long ago stopped lying to yourself about how much it turned you on. So when John emerged from the ring, panting, abs catching the compound’s lights on a sheen of sweat, you always dragged him off. Under the guise of cleaning him up of course ;).

John’s breeding kink goes wild when he sees you with a baby, or any kid really. He’s been around the club life long enough to see many couples welcome kids. One of the first outings the two of you made as an official thing was to the hospital to see the birth of a member’s baby.

His old lady bonded with you, and you were quickly given child holding privileges. It came so naturally to you, and John felt what he figured the two of you would get to eventually quickly build itself a home in his chest. New Kink unlocked: breed you on any surface he could find.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, it was hypnotizing. His family around him saw it for what it was. Their president had this future scene, starring you and him, written all over him.

He thought the intensity of it was something he had to keep under wraps until he noticed you had the same feelings.

Baby showers, shopping for 141 babies, school drives and charities the club did for the local youth, seeing cute kids on social media. It didn’t matter, John caught on to the fact that you fucked him like a feral rabbit whenever you got that maternal glint in your eye. He didn’t call you on it until after you were married. The day when your shop receptionist went on maternity leave.

You’d been going on all through dinner, and then while doing the dishes, about how cute the kid would be, and you loved helping her with her nursery, and how she was already glowing. The more you ranted, the harder he got, until finally, he trapped you against the counter.

“I reckon it’d be easier to just say you want to be a mum.” he lifted one leg to his waist, and bucked against your clothed heat. “Say it.”

You stammered, eyes wide, pupils blown. “J-John..”

“Say it.” his voice somehow found a lower octave to sink to, choked with desire.

“What are you talking about?” you whined, embarrassed at being found out.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m hard as steel love, you feel that?” he grabbed your wrist, kissing the knuckles before quickly brushing them over his length.

“That’s how bad I want to make you a mum, can’t you just admit it too?”

Tilting your chin up, he placed tiny kisses under your chin, purposely dragging his beard across the soft skin after each kiss.

“C’mon then, tell your husband the truth so I can give us what we both want”

You whimpered, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. “John..”

“Go on, invite me in.” he slipped his index finger in the top of your panties just enough to play with the elastic. Stretching it until it threatened to fly back against your skin before he eased it back in place.

You moved forward in an attempt to make his finger slip lower, and he laughed darkly, holding you in place. Shaking his head, he repeated his precious statement.

“Give me a baby John.” you huffed, frustration rising until all that you could do was spill the truth.

Gasping, you felt the cold tile of the counter beneath your thighs. You tried to process how he’d gotten you up there so fast, but your mind didn’t want to focus on anything other than your husband kneeling before you with the most determined look you’d ever seen.

As he slipped your panties and pajama shorts down your legs, he whispered how it’d be best if you prepared an excuse for work while you could still think straight.

310 notes · View notes

gummybearzgocrazyagain · 1 year

Text

kinn/porsche fic rec

Fake Dating AU

Tell Me That You Love Me (even if it’s fake) by @whitewalkers [luuuuuv me a fandom as ripe with fake dating trope as kp, it never quite loses it’s charm innit. kinn has a high school reunion to attend, and of course why not use it as a ploy to sway his most annoying bodyguard into confessing his nascent feelings... well-done, tis a rec]

Vigilante/Special Agent AU

Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by @Lilla_Torg [aight so this is an author with the very distinguished storytelling pattern, that i can not help but appreciate, their world-building and characterization is usually top notch, and this particular babie is not an exception: porsche and chay were brought up by someone from the syndicate that targets organized crime, and now that people, who used to call themselves their parents, are gone, Porsche is left with the ominous List, and a black leather vigilante suit, to keep their legacy alive. korn and gun are dead, Main and Minor fams are combined, tankhun has taken over as the Leader. kinn handles their overseas ops. amazing quality of storytelling, as always. DNI if you can’t handle pairings other than kp, as this is a multi-pairing piece, as it is customary for this author. but again, the story is so good, i didn’t even skip kimchay/vegaspete bits, which is a feat on it’s own. max kudosssssss]

the house don’t fall (when the bones are good) by @bytheriveriwept [i often say that i luved some works, but there are works i luved, and then there are works i LUVVEEEEEEDDDDDDDD with my whole-ass heart, this bit of genius masterpiece is the case of the latter. kp are special agents, colleagues, parts of the same organization, cohesive unit, and all that. only until porsche decides to take on risqué assignment, and go undercover. will they still be them, when he is back....? what can i say, this was sooooooooo up my alley in so many ways, i don’t even wanna say no more, if you haven’t read this.... what the hell is you even doing]

Third person POV

First Impressions by @AirgiodSLV [oooohhhhh how i luv me some piece of delicious 3rd person pov, yummmmm, Bank is a new hire for the Major fam, and this is the first time he is present at the meeting between the families.... yumm👌]

Alternative Meeting AU

stumbling to the edge by @FireRisingOverTheHills [absolutely delightful and underrated series for those who is not looking for heavy feels: it is light-hearted, sweet, well-written and entertaining, all without being angsty or plot-twist-heavy. despite the alternative meeting, it is still pretty much in-universe compliant. kp meet at a bar under different circumstances, but end up pretty much in the same compromising position that we all love to see them in. much kudos🙏]

the less i know the better by @mslunita [yummmmm, delicious morsel of tinder hookup-turned-softness, i really enjoyed this one: kp initially meet on the apps, and yet, being themselves, immediately turn this motha all soppy and lovey-dovey, - extremely canon-complaint, if you ask me. exactly the kinda content i am here for🙏 super-well done]

For Want of Fighting by @Mara [this fandom sure does luuuuuuv it some alternative meetings aus, huh, and i ain’t about to complain. great short piece, Businessman AU, first meeting is not too drastically different to canon, but the context does slightly differ. very entertaining and def a rec]

Sports AU

Salt by @ronadnhermy [oh. my. god. what a fucking catch, luv luv luved ittttttt, so well-written, so entertaining, there is plot, there is emotional turmoil, morally dubious kinn, maybe the younger versions of them is not exactly my jam, but with such quality, who cares... porsche is like 18-19 and on the Thailand National Taekwondo team, kinn is in uni, and sees something he likes, thangs spiral from there... super recommend, ah-mazing, allllllll the kudos]

bar owner!porsche AU

like real people do by @motherfleckers [Kinn is a celeb, Porsche owns a tiny bar in a tinier fishing town, simple premise with a delightful resolution: eyebrows, usual canon levels of audacity, motorcycle rides, and, most importantly, kinn’s dick is not small. it’s very very good (the fic, not kinn’s dick, although that too). major kudosssssssss]

Now make your bed (now lie in it) by @deliciousblizzardshark [2-for-1 tropes sale, apart from bar owner!porsche, you get accidental babie acquisition, my beloved <33333 fair warning, one must brace themselves for being gutted with longing, as well as general adorableness of kinn going “i’ve only had this random babie for 1,5 days but if something happens to her imma end everyone in this establishment and then myself”, adored this one sooooo much, prolly one of my personal faves, sooooooo many kudosssssss]

Cabin crew AU

before i leave, i want it a thousand times by @mslunita [despite somewhat disparaging reputation real-life cabin crew have acquired in my city, i clearly have no issues reading porsche being one slutty flight attendant, and hey, when your client is kinn anakinn theerapanyakul, who could actually blame him for slightly loosening his morals up on occasion, right? certainly not me, you go boiiiiii]

Historical AU

Love and the Art of War by @fortunehasgivenup [oooooowwwwww yassss, this is sooooo far up my alley it ain’t even funny. first of all, this author is everything, man, love all their fics, must reads, all of them. this specific babie is sooooo precious though: set in some nebulous middle ages, it’s a war camp setting, kinn has been away from home for months, and upon returning from some battle or other, gets an unexpected visitor waiting for him inside his tent. ngl, i would have read 200k of this, but author gave me 4, and i lapped them up like a man starved. perfection, truly. not to mention the use of “anakinn” in any context just does it for me🤷‍♀️]

Sex worker adjacent AU

escort AU by @Oscarian_Flame [Porsche joins the same agency kinn has been a long-term client of, and the universe expands from there. well-written and fun to explore, with interesting oc’s, worth a read for sure!]

Cliff Jump by @AirgiodSLV [ooohhhhh yeahhh babie we talking with this one💅 soooo.... vegas is using the same agency, and it kinda triggers kinn’s competitive side, earning him a certain... reputation. once every twink is bangkok is so exhausted that ain’t noone is able to deal with his over-the-top shite no more, the agency sends someone who has enough stamina to withstand the lengthy bounds of athletic... interactions. yeahhhhh, you guessed it. so very entertaining and plot-twisty. so very delightful]

even though you’re not mine, you’ve got that look in your eyes by @fortunehasgivenup [highly highly doubt there are people left in this fandom who have not read this masterpiece, and yet could not exclude it from the recs, it’s that spectacular. if one must create escort-by-misunderstanding AU.... do it to such level. spectacular work, allllll the kudos]

Night Call by @ziusik [one of my fav pieces in this fandom no cap, if you know this author, you know, i obvi adore every single word of both mileapo and kp this author has everrrrr written, and this particular stripper!porsche au with absolutely helplessly besotted idiot-kinn is outa this worldddddddd great. it’s like if “under the influence” by cb was a fic, the vibe is simply immaculate]

Comedy/Crack

Wilderness Camp by @housseao3 [wholesome and endearing piece of fun, i lichrally cackled multiple times, i meannnn, tankhun with his rompers, chan/tay, sugarplum/chicken, unforgettable ken/groundskeeper....? adorable, entertaining and praise-worthy attempt at light-heartedness and humour, super-well done]

School/Uni AU

let there be no barriers (between you and i) by @anakinn [being both adorable and hot is a general qualifier for ending up on my rec page, so here it goes as well. porsche has had a crush on one of his classmates for the better part of their university journey. one day being bored in class, he decides to test some random online advice, and see whether anyone of his mates is a mind-reader.... you guessed it folks, one particular person just might be. short and to the point delicious morsel of general canon-appropriate kp horniness for eo <3]

i gave a second chance to cupid by @haeseolar [omnomnomnom *chomps down on this fic with gusto* you know the feeling you get while consuming media, this overwhelming regret that the magnificent piece of work you’re currently devouring has already been perceived by you, and you never get to experience it for the first time ever again...? big time my energy while reading this one, what a mind candy, i reeeeeeeeeally enjoyed it🙏🙏🙏 kinn is 39, he is teaching lit at a private school, when the new 24yo PE teacher joins their roster fresh off uni... i dunno what to tell you, this author just gets it, when i say all the kudos, i quite literally mean all the possible kudos for this one]

Various in-universe AUs

The One Where Porsche and Kim Are Gym Buddies by @fortunehasgivenup [oooiiii, what fun, what funnnnnn: kim and porsche are both in the fights, and occasionally meet at the gym... reluctant comradery ensues. they talk to each other about their respective crushes, none the wiser that they have been railing each other’s nong and phi... what else is there to say, the author is so good i even attempted to read kimchay, which is practically unheard of, lich-rally all the kudos]

Here With You by @Yeetyeetbroski [daaaaaaaamn sonnn, the tension, the tensionnnnnn..... “scrumptious” is an understatement for what a treat it was. thank you dear author, much much MUCH kudos p.s. while you’re at it, i’d recommend to go through this author’s whole catalogue, their rendition of kp dynamic is a delight to read]

The Aftermath by @Yeetyeetbroski [yippy, the softness <3333333 So this is an Ep 6 aftermath, an AU for Ep 7. absolutely lovely and adorbs. soft besotted kinn is universally accepted as one of the fandom fav versions of kinn, so in regards of delivering on this front this fic is def up there. awesome read]

Post-canon

Storm to Weather by @archay [it was soooo good, i luv this typa vibe, bitter-sweet, but hopeful <333 the theerapanyakul empire is done for, and kinn and porsche are out to fend for themselves in a real world. tis a rec]

Whittled Down by Another War by @rageprufrock [i... are there even words... abso-fucking-lutely legendary piece, the way theerapanyakul bros dynamic is portrayed in this.... damnnnnnnnnnn, if there is anyone, literally anyone left who has not read this yet... what the fuck are you doing with your life, GO READ THIS ABSOLUTELY MINDBLOWING FIC]

fell in love with the fire long ago by @builtempires [wieeeeeeeeeeee, what a tasty treat: kinn is away on business, and a certain head of the minor family decides that sending his partner some racy pics while separated by thousands of miles would help the situation... it both does and doesn’t. very entertaining, super hot, much kudos]

Magic AU

Instinct by @the-wayside [ohhhhh this bloody gorgeous muthafuckin thang.... i remember being so overwhelmed after reading initial chapters that i even dmed the author, cause it was cloying at my skin, the story is superb. not everyone, but many people got an instinct living inside of them, and what do you think happens when kinn goes to some random underground fight held at some random seedy club and his instinct meets porsche.... yeppp. something about reading how the most animalistic, primal part of kinn wants and longs for what is his is just.... maaaaaaaan, If you haven’t read it yet and there is still an opportunity for you to experience it for the first time, i am so fucking envious no cap]

Poring Down Crimson Fire by @Lilla_Torg [whatttttttt, this was fucking insane, like...??? the world-building??? i fucking can’t, off the charts, insert chief kiss emoji size of a sun. i don’t even know how to rec something like dat, just... insanely devastatingly interesting story, and yeah, technically it’s not even kp fic per se, cause the whole fucking gang be giving off main character vibes. must read]

bonus:

MILEAPO

......................................................................................................................

disclaimer: realizing how tricky the whole topic of rpf might seem, i myself have not dipped a toe in this pool in a long, long time, therefore do completely understand and accept any potential discomfort anyone may have with using names/likeness of real people for fanfiction writing purposes. kindly, if you are uncomfortable with the topic, do not proceed any further, thank yew. p.s. also, as it has been noted so many times before, if you didn’t want us to write/read fanfiction about you, maybe you shouldn’t look at your work colleague like dat, bruv, just saying

......................................................................................................................

Starting Ambitions by @iffervescent [abo rpf, fucking masterpiece, luv this story sm]

Marked by @oliviacirce [yeahhhhhhhh... this. this was... an experience. they are about to film the scene in pete/porsche’s room, but the special effects person is out with the stomach flu, and there is no one to apply the fake hickies to apo’s neck. mile comes up with the brilliant idea that saves the day. no words, only squeals and cheers]

Whole New Kinds of Weather by @archay [short, sweet, hot and to the point 👌 after the NYE 2023 the whole team comes back to Tong’s for an after-party (for the live of me, i dunno why is it always Tong in the fics, tis has become some kind of established fanon by now), and thangs transpire in his bedroom (sorry, phi!!! pls don’t kill them)]

obviously, every single word @ziusik has ever written, especially Limerence, your lips in the street lights, and of fucking course, just a step away, which is definitely one of my fav ma fics everrrrrr and forever fandom classic

and finally...

said you’d be coming back this way again, baby by @concernedlily [this is what i’d call an ultimate ma fic, jokes aside, if there would be a limited amount of fics a person is allowed to read in they lifetime, this would make the cut every time for me. no matter how many wonderfully written, extremely talented ma works are out there, this would always be the ma fic for me, absolutely fandom-forming, i can never praise this work enough]

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche fic rec #mileapo #mileapo fic rec #kinn/porsche

106 notes · View notes

heroinejinx · 1 year

Note

FANFIC APPRECIATION MEME

Post recommendations for your ten favourite fanfics and tag the authors if possible. Tell us what you like about their work.

Tag five people of your choice to do the meme too.

okay well there’s more than ten because i’m indecisive & these are all too good not to mention!!

for some sense of order, i’ve separated them by ships, and then further by if they’re canon or au, because the 2 are essentially different genres so 🤓

i’m also not gonna expand too much on what i like about each of these because it’ll just be me waffling & saying ‘i love this ship and this person writes their dynamic so damn well’ over and over lol

Lightcannon

~~canon-ish~~

- ‘Ill-Fortune and Illumination’ series by @questionablecuttlefish

ft. scenes of extreme chaos and extreme tenderness, sometimes in the same chapter, always brilliant 🤌

- ‘The energy that pumps through my veins’ by @ghostofyaz

in which jinx is the ultimate masochist & lux aims to please ✨

- ‘Flashbangs and Frag Grenades’ series by @calchexxis (which there’s also a podcast on Spotify for!!🔥)

‘jinx is crazy, lux is crazier’ - a must read

~~au~~

- ‘Bright Eyes’ series by @calchexxis

college au in which jinx is a ‘tattooed punk on a motorcycle’ - need i say more? 👀

- ‘Friction Coefficient’ by @blood-lich-crow

and so they were forced to be study buddies 😙

- ‘Fight and Flight’ by @onegraycat

the closest to top gun i will ever willingly get, ft. angst and planes ✈️

Timebomb

~~canon-ish~~

- ‘My Boy Savior’ by Elssandra on AO3 (idk their tumblr)

wherein jinx’s journey to becoming a firelight is cute, dark as hell, dramatic and frequently heartbreaking - yay 🥲

Pistolwhip / CaitJinx

~~canon-ish~~

- ‘Dancing After Death’ by @prettyaveragewhiteshark

jinx and caitlyn bond over their grief & it hurts & it’s so satisfying to read 💔

- ‘Hollow bones and bird song’ series by @natsukashenby

the fic that got me into the crackship, so much angst and pining, god bless 🙏

- ‘Lithium’ series by @ravenkinnie

okay i need to re-read this asap but the angst in this knows no bounds 🖤

~~au~~

- ‘Love Sonnet aka Escort AU’ series by @ravenkinnie

this fic is so tender and their connection feels so real - idk how else to describe it other than saying just go read it right now 🥺

- ‘Lover, will you look at me now? I’m already dead to you’ by @natsukashenby

ft. caitlyn and jinx bonding a little too much at a party… gotta love the drama

Liquorbomb (Jinx x ‘Chuck’)

@unknownstellardepths has this monopolised lololol thank you for your service

~~canon-ish~~

- ‘Toy Guns with Real Bullets’

jinx turns to ‘chuck’ after killing silco and things get *complicated* ❤️‍🩹

this fleshes out thieram/chuck so so well, and the writing in this? the crafting of the fight scenes, the sex scenes, and character development? yeah, read it.

~~au~~

- ‘Scissors and Heartstrings’

more thieram and jinx antics - can’t get enough tbh 🫶

Honourable mentions for some non-Arcane fics I adore:

SPOP (Catradora)

~~canon-ish~~

- ‘Falling feels like flying (till the bone crush) by ehj on AO3 (idk their tumblr)

what if catra and adora started secretly fucking while still at war with each other? yeah this is that & it’s bloody great 😌

~~au~~

- ‘Break a Leg (and break the bed)’ by @dandyvela

catradora as stunt workers who are secretly fuck buddies, minus the friendship & add on a whole lot of repressed feelings. genius 💖

- ‘Take me home’ by feistypants on AO3 (idk their tumblr)

exes running a farm together and slowly confronting the past… when i tell you i cried 😭

Killing Eve (Villaneve)

~~what everyone in the old fandom wishes could’ve been canon~~

- ‘Saving Eve’ by DontShoveTheSun on AO3 (idk their tumblr)

okay i’m not exaggerating when i say that this fic has improved my mental health lol anyone still reeling from that abysmal finale needs to read this. this whole thing is like the most comforting hug ever & idc it’s canon to *me* 🥹

tbh i’d also extend this rec to anyone who enjoys the murder wives trope in general, even if you haven’t seen the show - this fic truly delivers everything that kind of story needs. can’t praise it highly enough.

okay, this was super fun to do so i’m tagging all the authors mentioned here, plus anyone else who wants to do it! 💕

#fandom tag #fanfic recs #arcane #lightcannon #timebomb #pistolwhip #caitjinx #liquorbomb #spop #catradora #killing eve #villaneve #fuck laura neal #fanfic appreciation

69 notes · View notes

mollymauk-teafleak · 1 year

Text

top gun/daisy jones and the six au

So like the little magpie I am, I have once again stolen one of my lovely gf's hyperfixations in a piece of media I haven't even consumed. Because what better way to consume media than just having your gf @hangsters tell you all the best bits and then help you make a top gun au?

So there is an up and coming rock band in the 70s music scene called Top Gun, consisting of Nicholas 'Goose' Bradshaw on drums, Ron 'Slider' Kerner on bass and Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky on lead guitar and vocals. They've recently added a relative unknown called Alice Duong on keys to round out their sound (who keeps drawing the eye of their bassist) but they're struggling to climb the charts.

Their success and their struggle is all down to their lead and originator, Iceman Kazansky. Fellow musicians can't stop raving about the technical flourishes in the songs, the skill and effort put into every solo, the way Kazansky seems to live and breathe music. But that experimental nature is struggling to capture people who'd just be listening to the radio on their way to work.

So their manager has an idea. Guess who he also represents, whose was a massive hit before the drugs and alcohol and partying caught up with him, who works a crowd like no one else and just oozes raw charisma and just got out of rehab and needs a comeback? Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell. And he could be just what Top Gun needs.

Instantly, Mav and Ice struggle to get along. Mav comes into the recording studio like a hurricane, messing up Ice's perfect riffs and technical genius with improvised solos, lyric changes and a general disregard for anything Kazansky (or anyone who ins't him) has to say. The rest of the bad worry that this could wreck the band entirely rather than save them. But the songs that come out of this battle are genius and sell like gangbusters.

So they tour and Ice and Mav are still butting heads but it seems to have...shifted. Like they hate each other but they love it? So no one is really surprised when one of their arguments over a song turns into the hottest sex.

But there's a problem. Maverick has never ever had a relationship like this where it's with someone he actually might love? And he panics about not being good enough, about letting Ice down and the pressure of having a gay relationship in the 70s. And yeah, he's always bucked gender roles (he's trans but not out publicly) and played with sexuality in his music but Ice feels real and he's so scared.

So one night Ice finds him high and shaking in the bathroom after a show. And he just helps him into the bath, washes him, gets him to drink water and takes care of him. But he tells him 'you have until December 1st when the tour ends and then you're done with this. you're going to get clean and be a good man for me'. And Maverick does.

Meanwhile, Goose is struggling being away from his high school sweetheart and love of his life Carole. They get the whole adorable 'if I say I have a record deal will you marry me?' thing and they have a cute backyard wedding when they realise she's pregnant and then along comes little Bradley who Goose loves more than anything (I have hangster stuff in this AU also but this post is getting long)

And eventually, after show after show of Slider staring at her, Alice finally confronts him. She's met guys in this industry that see her as a muse, see her as a skirt and nothing else and she's so done with all that. She just wants someone who treats her like a person and if Ron's gonna be that person he'd better hurry the fuck up and kiss her before she gets sick of waiting. And slider was just scared to be like one of those guys so he was holding back but now he has the go ahead he's kissing her like there's no tomorrow.

But yes I'm so deep in this AU it's not even funny and I'm looking how I can get some fics or maybe even a multi chapter thing out of it so! Ask questions, send requests, please enjoy!

#top gun #headcanons #icemav #iceman #maverick #goose #carole #slider #djats au #rock and roll au #tw drugs

36 notes · View notes

avianii · 8 months

Note

how did you pick the player numbers for the volleyball au?

haha ok full credit has gotta go to @doodledrawreblogs for this one for thinking up 8 and 6 for Mav and Goose since together they make 86 (the year top gun came out for everyone who isn't as deep in this fandom). Ice is 1 because Ice is always the best and also because Number One is a song in Real Genius where Val Kilmer plays one of said real geniuses Chris Knight. Slider is 2 because gotta keep them together.

as for the rest of them I just went into Google and did the random number generator 1-20 and threw whatever I got on there and adjusted so that each number would be as distinct as possible when drawn

#top gun #top gun volleyball au #answered asks

12 notes · View notes

topgunreacts · 11 months

Note

In the story for the Werewolf Ice, you said that each of Val Kilmer's characters should turn into werewolves. We couldn't agree more on that! But could you please tell us what breed and color of wolf you have in mind for Val’s characters?

I am extremely headcanon-promiscuous, so each iteration would definitely come with its own distinct type of wolf. Overlaps, if they happen, would be circumstantial. When I write Iceman, he has a completely different family in each story, for example. I like the diversity, and enjoy being forced to come up with a different background that makes me consider what it was about THAT background that made Ice himself.

It doesn’t always need to be deep, either. Werewolf Iceman is an Iberian wolf, a subspecies of gray wolf that lives in Greenland. Just kidding. It’s the Iberian peninsula. I picked that wolf for Top Gun Iceman because they are trim, tightly muscled, and golden in color, just like Iceman’s tits in the volleyball scene. Also, Iberian wolves are cool.

Time for a

~Thunderheart Intermission~

Werewolf Ray Levoi is a Eurasian wolf, also a subspecies of gray wolf. Because Thunderheart takes place on an Indian Reservation and features a character of mixed indigenous/western European descent, I incorporated that into the lore of the story. The ancestral werewolf who gives Ray his power lives in modern day France, where she is worshiped, respected, and mostly feared. Ray’s mother is from a line of females (my werewolves pas down their power matrilineally) who immigrated from Europe to America. They are out of place in the US. Lost and isolated from their arcane culture. Ray specifically struggles with that on both fronts. His mother the European werewolf was too afraid to pass most things down to her son, and white settlers initiated multiple genocides to wipe out local werewolf populations, even seeking to kill the local ancestors to hobble them. This is because werewolf magic works to prevent things like consolidation of magical power. They’re like the water cycle but for magic. That makes hoarding magic very difficult! So Ray has almost NO connection to his werewolf side. He can’t even get in with the local werewolves because there aren’t any left (that he knows of…).

Similarly, he feels disconnected from his father’s people, the Oglala. His dad died when he was young, so he had very little exposure to Oglala culture. He’s white passing, and only goes back because his bosses at the FBI want him to root out activists, which he will do suuuuuper successfully by ingratiating himself with the locals. This will happen because he [checks smudged writing on partially censored document] shares an ancestry with the people his bosses are trying to put in the ground. For obvious reasons, this does not make him popular there because everyone with a brain cell knows what the fuck is up.

This is Walter and Ray doing their First Look on their wedding day. :) The sexual tension here is palpable.

But wait there’s more!!! In this AU, Ray is a black Eurasian wolf. Why? Because all black wolves have a little domesticated dog in them. That’s where they get that color. I didn’t pick a representative identity for the wolf and dog parts, since that’s not what I’m going for, especially given the fact that this AU is working with indigenous Americans: marginalized groups of people frequently compared to animals by virulent racists. Instead, the color is meant to symbolize Ray being torn between the magical and mundane worlds, being unable to find complete belonging in either place.

~the intermission has ended~

And now what you probably came here for: a small, unofficial official list of potential Val Kilmer Werewolves.

Tombstone Kilmer: red wolf that is always a lil dusty

Batman Kilmer: a timber wolf that was born in a zoo next to the bat enclosure

Real Genius Kilmer: a coyote pretending to be a wolf

Willow Kilmer: a tundra wolf wearing a wizard hat

Prince of Egypt Kilmer: Wepwawet's cousin

10th & Wolf Kilmer: human. too human.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang Kilmer: extremely smart great plains wolf that willingly does enrichment puzzles with human field researchers for fun

#ask #Thunderheart #walter crow horse #ray levoi #werewolf lore #werewolf au #I really regret the shame in my dads side of the family that took away the opportunity to experience my Cherokee ancestry #I was so close! my great grandfather spoke the language and went to a boarding school #but the trauma of existing while native in the us led many people to throw away that history because it was so painful #I’ve got some physical traits and that’s it #my grandma also has Cherokee ancestry and was super passionate about researching that side of her family #her dads dad was the last to be born on a reservation proper; she was born in a sharecropper cabin in Oklahoma near but not within the rez #but she was so proud of that; the hours she put into honoring that painful past are humbling to me as a research professional #she had an 8th grade education #but because of her I know multiple generations of names and my clan heritage #she even found scans of enlistment papers showing one particular ancestor's participation in the war of 1812

10 notes · View notes

maverickcalf · 2 years

Text

WIPs, WIPs, Literally Everywhere WIPs...

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs. I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? DnD campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!

Tagged by @boasamishipper and @saltyfilmmajor For sake of everyone I am just doing my writing. Also only doing pieces that I have worked on this year and that I do want to finish.

Top Gun/ TGM

Carry On (TGM Slider and Iceman fic, Dual POV)

75% Sugar (post TGM fic Maverick and Bradley fic)

Doing your own thing (Top Gun Trucker AU Goose & Trans! Mav)

The distinguished academy Chapter 2/ Later Chapter (Slider x Goose, Pre canon Sloose, Slider POV)

Hometown Skies Chapter 14/ Future Chapter (Viper raises Mav fic [working on Mav PoV] )

Junk in the yard (Bradley fic Pre TGM, Bradley reflects on all his family heirlooms)

Iceman and Maverick keep it real (Smut Icemav TG)

Mighty Wings (Maverick and Goose have wings au TG)

Uncle Viper; the dean (90s TG college au Mav Pov)

This sad Mav fic I just found buried in here ( Maverick post being rejected by Iceman fic)

Bradley writes a journal (This most likely will be dropped since I wrote this pre tgm but ya never know)

M:I

Returning to the safe house (Ethan x Jack pre MI canon fic)

Stretch makes and scars (Benthan, Benji Body issues and Trans!Ethan fic)

Crossovers

Real Money ( Color of Money Real Genius Fic POV Dual PoV)

Hitman and the Deer Chapter 2 (The Firm/Barry Au crossover Mitch x Barry, Dual PoV)

Tolms (tom film fics)

Dance around the Subject (Brain x Doug Cocktail AU)

Three is a very lonely crowd (Taps AU, David POV for now)

Beach static (the one cis Mitch fic I plan to write)

Names to be subject to change later. All my friends have been tagged to my knowledge, but if i am wrong go ahead and go for it.

#wips #top gun maverick #top gun #long post #my writing

14 notes · View notes

gay-flyboys · 6 months

Text

Questions for Fic Writers

No one tagged me but I like stats and info and shit so I wanted to do this. "Keep reading" bc it's long and I don't hate you guys

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

34! On my main, 2 on my alt, and 1 anon. Would be closer to 42-45 but I went through a bender early this year and deleted/orphaned a lot of works

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

221,775 (plus the ~16k I'm editing rn) (not including the 2 on my alt)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently only RWRB, though I wrote the most for Top Gun (both movies) and Julie and the Phantoms (most of those are what I deleted tho lol)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

True Colors Shine in Darkness and in Secrecy (WIP) (RWRB)

Visceral In Doses (Top Gun)

Take All Of Me (Top Gun)

And I Am Your Tree (Young Royals)

Grit Your Teeth Another Time (Top Gun)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes if I feel like I have nothing to add to them, I won't, but I generally try to give thanks at least.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have a LOT lmao I love angst, so. By fandom + Main angst content:

Top Gun (2 Main canon character deaths)

Real Genius (Offscreen Character Death)

JATP (Referenced canon character death + funerals!)

Young Royals (Uhhh grief? It's post-S1)

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse (Main character death)

Hunger Games (SA, as a fade to black)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, by fandom bc I have several:

Top Gun (Hangster, Valentines day, post-canon fic)

Young Royals (5+1 of Wille being carried+carrying someone)

JATP (Willex Valentine's Day date. Pure fluff. So much fluff.)

RWRB (Henry character study, mix of pre and post-canon)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

OMG so one person (I assume, diff accs but it was anonymous) left several hate comments on a fic I wrote when I was like 16 so I deleted that shit immediately. Someone gifted me a fic afterward bc they felt bad LMAO. Nothing really since, though

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

HAHAHAH yeahhhh. Idk how you'd classify it though? Like. I've got a variety of shit in there

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nah, not my style

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I can barely ask people to beta-read my fics, and making friends is hard. Asking to co-write might put me in the grave

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I have a few. I'm always soft for Barisi (SVU), Roy/Riza (royai?) (FMAB), and Willex (JATP), though

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Too many. A Barisi soulmate au I was rewriting. Icemav flower shop/pilot au, the entirety of Hangster as Exes as Youngblood. The TG/FMAB au I started. There's more. I have like 130 fics in my docs and over half of those are WIPs, so.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm good at writing physical touches, and movements. And I like to think I'm alright at descriptions

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I get way too wordy with those mentioned above. I ramble a lot. Dialogue scares me, especially in smut (I worry I'll be too corny/porno-sounding). I basically don't do outlines unless the idea I have is really long, and even then they tend to be pretty frail and bare-bones.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I used to pretty frequently when I was writing Barisi, mostly pet names and stuff in Spanish. I no longer feel confident in writing other languages that I don't know, which limits me to English and describing ASL.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh god. So it might have been Pokemon back when I was in elementary school. But I typically say Attack on Titan, the summer between 7th and 8th grade. I was friends with this one girl and would literally send, over Gmail, new chapters. I still have...most? of the writing in a doc and it is HORRENDOUS.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

It's not my best fic by any means, but I have a soft spot for I Hope We Make It (To The Other Side), which is a JATP fic that hit sooo many firsts for me. It was my first finished multi-chap fic, my first time plotting shit out. I think it was some of the longest writing I'd done at the time (my avg length of fic was like 2k and 3k for a long one). And I was SO PROUD of so many little things within it.

I also love Still Singin' Here Above The Ground, which is a RWRB fic that's pretty quiet but is just. Ugh. I'm really happy with how it turned out.

#max writes #rwrb #law and order svu #jatp #top gun maverick #pls no one actually look at those tags they're for cataloging purposes only

1 note · View note

emperor-palpaminty · 3 years

Text

The Good Doctor

Wild West Bad Batch AU (complete)

I saw this beautiful post by @hellothere-generalangsty about a bad batch wild west AU and I cannot fuckin get it outta my head oh no, and being a native Texan it would be a sin to NOT do it... right? also i have been playing too much red dead redemption please end me, also totally not the story i accidentallu posted rip

Tech is also not a very “western” name, so it’ll be his nickname, but his real name is v funny, sorry to all the nerds name victor

also i believe her personal blog is @weirdcharacter i love you, you genius, also her writing is amazing so pls go check her out

warning for Western violence, lil bit of western guns, some rooty-tooty-point-n-shooties, also fluff, just fluffy fluff fluff

The sky was as empty as the endless plains of the desert. You planted your hat on your head, exhaling and grabbing your skirts, throwing them up onto the saddle of your horse. "Alright, Commander." You patted the chestnut mane of the steed, who snorted and tossed his head fraternally. "Let’s head into town.”

The ride to town was warm and windless, aside from the artificial breeze that formed around you and Commander. The rhythm of the horse was almost lulling, soothing to you, a familiar tune you knew too well.

A smile tugged on your lips as you tapped on Commander’s hips, clicking your tongue, feeling the horse speed up. Your hat stayed on by the grace of God and the strap around your neck. You rounded up around the cavern, turning and glancing at the winding roads below.

You paused squinting at the wagon approaching with alarming speed. A dust cloud was around it, high and wide, catching up. You knew the crack of bullets well enough to know you had to get down there.

You frowned and tugged on the reigns, reaching into your saddlebag and grasping the revolver you kept in there. “Let’s go, Commander.”

The horse snorted. You imitated a snort back and dug your heels in. The horse followed your tug and ran down the gentle slope, finally submitting to the urgency of the situation. Your thighs squeezed tightly around the saddle as you loaded the gun, spinning the barrel and clicking it together. You aimed, level with one of the highway men approaching the wagon.

There was a crack and the one in your sighs flipped off his horse. You turned your attention to the wagon, where a man was kneeling atop it, rifle in hand, aiming with steady hand. The driver was still whipping the reigns like crazy.

You rode in from the side, pointing at a second highway man and shooting his leg. He yelped at gripped his leg, tumbling off the paint, who simply snorted and turned, racing away, dragging the man after it.

The shooter on top of the wagon glanced at you for a moment. He tilted his head, couriously, the gaze throwing you for a temporary loop before he nodded and aimed back at the oncoming people.

You rode in front of them all, Commander’s legs thudding faithfully on the ground. You pulled up as close as you could to the wagon, picking up your legs and turning, pointing your gun and aiming it steadily.

"I'm glad you can assist!" The man with the rifle shouted, pumping the forestock.

You grinned, glancing up at him, hat lost in the wind around you. His curly mop of hair was bouncing in the wind, glasses teetering dangerously on his nose. “I came at just the right time, darling!” You yelled, shooting your revolver once more.

If he said anything else you failed to hear, too distracted with taking care of bandits around you. The gun clicked and you glanced down at the open hammer, cursing.

A hand stuck down, shocking you. “Give me your hand,” The man said, laying on his stomach. He was reaching a hand down, open, creased, expectant. You nodded and gripped it, surprised at the strength under his lanky coat. He expressed no strain other than a simple grunt as he lifted you up onto the top of the stagecoach. “Your horse?”

“He knows the way to town.” You took the pistol the man tugged out of his belt and handed you. “He’s smart.” You laid on your stomach next to him, aiming over the back.

The man nodded simply, aiming and firing the rifle. He smiled behind the butt of the gun, planting it firmly into his shoulder as he cocked it again. “Good horse. Wish I had one.”

“Commander doesn’t have a sister.” You chuckled, picking up your head, hat tugging at your neck. Your fingers worked away the string and you sat up, watching the last couple highwaymen ride away, cursing at the wind. You laughed, glancing at the man next to you. “I don’t reckon you can’t give me a ride to town.” You smiled sheepishly, pausing to admire the gun. It was incredibly intricate, elegant- swirls on the ivory stock, glistening in the sun.

“On the contrary.” His hand took the pistol, gently tucking it into the holster. “I’m heading there right now.” He nodded at the driver, who nodded shakily back, but resumed driving like the dickens. “Perhaps we should get into the coach.” The man walked to the side, kneeling, holding up a hand to you. “Ladies first?”

You grinned at him, picking up your skirt and sweeping a leg down onto the windowsill, sliding in. The man followed shortly, body moving almost effortlessly into the window. His feet landed steadily, and he dusted a layer of grime off. “Fantastic.” His full lips pressed into a grimace.

You crossed your legs under your skirt, ignoring the red clay stain across the fine yellow of it. The man removed his glasses, examining the lenses, and you took a moment to admire him- a layer of dust coated his fine dark curls, his skin tanned but smooth, lashes long as his eyes inspected the glasses for a final time. He tucked the kerchief into his waistcoat and placed the glasses on his face, turning to you, in his full bespectaled glory. “I apologize. I didn’t properly get to introduce myself.” He smiled, gently taking your hand, kissing it in ritual. Your cheeks warmed before you remembered this was a typical greeting of city slickers. “I am Victor Trech the Third, Medical Doctor.”

You blinked up at him. “Why are you all the way out here in Marauder Valley?” You scooted towards him. “And a doctor with a shot like that?”

Victor shrugged and settled down in the seat across from you, fingers running in his hair to release the stubborn dirt. “I am a man of a few talents,” He stated, quite simply. “A Jack of all Trades, Master of none...” He waved his hand, implying the ending.

“But better than be a master of one.” You pressed your jaw into your hand, smiling at him, skimming his face again. His eyes were stunning- astute, clever, with an intelligence that was not nearly as dull as his interior voice implied.

They shone now. “Ah! Familiar with the rhyme?”

“A couple.” You leaned your head back on the seat. The hat crushed under your shoulders, so you tugged it off, resting it on your knee. “So, where does a man like you learn to shoot like that.”

Victor’s eyes glinted- perhaps a trick of the light in his glasses- and he settled back in his seat. “We shan’t reveal our secrets to each other so quickly. I wanted to try to take our time. I’m sure the ride to Marauder Valley is quite long...?”

“No.” You shook your head, hair unbraided. You reached back and tugged it over your shoulder, just to re-weave it. “Maybe fifteen, twenty minuites.”

Victor’s lips pressed into a smile, and he crossed his own legs. “Then I am fortunate to be in such good company.”

___

The sheriff was the first one to greet you. His brows raised as the good doctor climbed down first, aiding you down. “Well,” Hunter chuckled. “Last one I expected to see with you.”

You grinned at him, glancing down at the stain on your skirt, voice emerging in an easy drawl. “This is the good doctor you’ve been waiting for.”

Hunter grinned and took the hand that the willowy doctor offered. “Pleased to meet you, Doctor Tech.”

Victor hesitated, but seemed to polite or distracted to correct the sheriff. “Thank you, Officer.”

“Just Hunter. No badge right now.” Hunter smiled easily. “Commander’s at Cid’s. You should-”

“Yeah, yeah.” You laughed, turning to look at the doctor, who appeared quite handsome when not shooting highwaymen. “I’ll catch you later, Doc.”

“I should hope so.” ‘Tech’ replied, and you felt his eyes follow you as Hunter lead him towards what would be his new office.

___

The next time you came to town, you were wearing a blue and white dress, hat still faithfully on your head, and your journey was uninterrupted by any lurking villains. You made your way into Cid’s Saloon & Generale Shoppe, nodding politely at the owner. “Hiya, Cid.” You dropped a stack of leathers onto the counter, sighing at the effort. “A good load.”

“No bullet wounds?” Cid picked up a rabbit skin to inspect it. “And you brought in those plants I ordered for that there Doctor?” Her knuckles rapped her temple as she thought. “Tech?”

Ah, the nickname stuck. “Oh.” You looked at the pouch on the counter, quietly scooting it back into your hand. “I didn’t know that was for him. I’ll run it to him.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” Cid turned, moving the skins to the back counter, out of reach of especially grabby patrons. “I’ll have your pay and drink ready when you come back.”

“Sasparilla?” You grinned, tapping on the counter, adjusting your skirts as you walked out.

You remembered the general direction of where Dr. Tech’s office was from the last time you had been in town. It took you no time to find it- it wasn’t far from the Saloon, because if someone got shot they couldn’t afford a particularly large amount of time.

You opened the door, glancing up in alarm at the bell ringing above your head. “Oh!”

“One moment!” The tenor voice was sweet, familiar, a drop of cool water to you.

You glanced around the waiting room. There were a few chairs, extras from the church, probably, and a few frames on the wall. You walked quietly to it, reading the fancy inscription on the college degrees lining the walls, this particular one from the Medical University of South Carolina.

As you tilted your head, quick footsteps rounded the corner. “Oh! Oh, Miss.” The good doctor bustled in, smiling. “I thought Cid was bringing the herbs.”

“Next time, I’ll tell her to send one of the girls.” You grinned and held out the pouch. “If that’s what you-”

“No! No, you’re fine- excellent, really.” He grinned at you, sheepish, cheeks sploshing a subtle pink. “Quite a- well, anyways, do come back here.” He motioned you with long fingers, walking you towards the back. “Have you been getting herbs long?”

“I grow them, actually.” You tugged at your skirt, wishing you had picked a less frivilous dress, or perhaps an apron. The doctor cleaned up well. “I do a lot of hunting and gathering.”

Tech grinned back at you, opening the pouch. “I didn’t have you pinned as the type.” He opened the nearby cabinet, tugging down a pestle and mortar, the two objects being set down with a weighty thunk. “No objections.”

You grinned at him, suddenly glad you wore the pretty dress and had managed to avoid getting it stained. “So... Tech, now?”

His ears colored, and he cleared his throat, working on smashing a vibrant yarrow. “The name stuck. I quite like it, actually. It seems to have provided the towns folk around here with a sense of... comroidere with me.”

“Mm.” You leaned on the counter, watching his hands work. Your fingers traced over their unusual smoothness, save a few callouses on his thumbs and pointers. “What are you going to do with that?”

“The yarrow has many uses.” The doctor smiled, hands pausing in their task. “It is a broad medicine, helping quite a bit with cramps, toothaches, so on.” Tech’s hands moved back in their familiar motion, the rhythym of their work falling into a steady pattern.

It was almost hypnotic. You watched him, interested, as the bitter aroma of the crushed plant wafted towards you. “Any patients?”

“A few.” Tech’s brow furrowed as he worked harder on the flora, a smooth paste almost all that was remaining. “You have a lot of toothaches around here. The people are quite kind, though. I really enjoy it.” He tapped the excess off the wand, laying it on a towel. “It’s a good change of paste from Boston.” He smiled at you, again, eyes sincere. “I’m glad I met you first, though.”

Your heart thrummed up to your throat, and your own lips pressed into a smile as you turned, walking towards the door. “I am, too.” You paused for a moment. “Hey, Doc.”

Tech turned.

“You can come up and see me any time. A wagon won’t get you there, but Wrecker- yes, that’s his name- always has extra horses.” You smiled at him, opening the door, not as shocked by the bell this time.

Tech’s lips drew upwards, teeth showing, eyes shining like honey in a hive. “I will take you up on that. It sounds like a... profitable offer.”

___

Tech's presnece was announced by the dogs. You heard them barking and ran out of the leathering barn, relieved when you saw his familiar form climbing off the horse. He smiled bright at you, taking off his hat. "Fine day, miss. I hope now is a fine time."

You felt like jumping off the roof of your house. You glanced down at your breeches, speckled with old blood and drying materials, and you smiled at him. "It's as fine a time as any."

His eyes skimmed your legs- the pants, a scandal in their own sense- and he quickly glanced away, distracting himself. "A- a lovely home."

“Thanks.” You nodded at it, glancing out at the skies. the skies were clear, with grey swathes in the distance- perhaps the night. "You cane just in time." Your stooped and picked up a basket, resting it on your hip. "You can lay your jacket on the fence. I'll show you where to gather some sage." You tugged your hat onto your head and began walking, slowly, listening for him to catch up.

The good doctor was dressed far lighter today, relaxed. He strolled by you, reaching over to take the basket. "Allow me." Tech took it gently, hands soft as they moved past yours. He moved easily through the trees, the bushes, pausing to reach back for your hand. "Do you require assistance?"

Normally, you didn't, as this was a task you reveled in alone. But you took his hand and stepped, half unsteady with a trembling heart. The doctor's hands remained firm, supporting you. You stepped to him, perhaps too close, and you glanced up, inches spaced between you both. The doctor blinked for a moment, clearing his throat, warm hands moving from your and to the basket. "Thank you," You mumbled, striding a little ahead of him. A smile was still bright on your lips, heart thrashing violently in your ribs. "It's not far."

The day was warm, and you knelt by the patch you knew, the ground was speckled with the brilliantly golden light of the sun. Your hands worked over the sage, feeling for the elongated leaves.

Tech squatted down next to you, watching and mimicking your movements. "Have you been gathering a long time?"

"Yes." You smiled and began stacking the leaves into the basket. "My papa started this, I've been living here since I was a babe." You tore a sage leaf, inhaling the scent, smiling at the thoughts tied to it. A warm fire, a sweet lullaby, a bitter tea for illness that could patch up almost any ailment. "Life has been good to me." You sunk to your knees as gathered more, eyes catching that of Tech, who was watching you with enchantment.

"And to me," He said, gently, running a hand over the patch of sage. "I'm delighted I was able to come here, and run into the likes of-"

His eloquent speech was interrupted by a rumble. You glanced up, standing, reaching down. "Hurry," You grinned, eyes dancing. "It'll be hell when it rains."

His eyes locked on yours and an unspeakable expression was on his face as he stared up at you- admiration, you dared say, and it made the smart doctor very stupid for a moment. He grasped your hand, rising, the basket abandoned in the sage as he ran after you.

Sheets of rain began to fall, and your hand stayed secure in his. You jumped easily over a bramble, turning back to watch his blithe legs leap gracefully over same bush. You landed hard, falling back, crashing.

Your lungs burned for a moment. The rain was cool on your face as your hands flew up to your chest, and you gasped.

Your body rose, suddenly supported. "Steady, you had quite a fall," Tech said gently, walking with you in his arms now. "You seem alright. Let's get you inside."

___

You had changed into a more modest nightgown when you got inside, sitting on your bed as you hiked the skirt down. The good doctor was waiting patiently outside the door.

You sat down, quiet, watching Tech come in and lower a small medical bag. He smiled gently, sitting down, professional as a doctor could be. "You seem to be faring better." Tech smiled and opened the bag, moving through it with familiarity. "Just the wind knocked from you?"

"Yes, it's not a feeling I'm fond of." You chuckled, tugging your nightgown up to your ankles. "I got a little scraped up, sorry."

"No, it's quite fine." Tech produced a small vial, examining the minor wounds with wise eyes. He had removed his glasses because the rain had made the lenses hard to even dry off.

You watched his hands work, rubbing the balm in gentle circles over the scrapes. "You know," You said, sucking in a breath at the slight sting. "My mama used to kiss my scrapes better. Especially the bramble ones."

Chuckling with good humor, Tech glanced up. "Did it work?"

You nodded, leaning back on your hands. "Yes, it did." You hesitated, watching his fingers pause for a moment along your ankle. "But I think it was just... a mind trick."

"Well, the mind is powerful." Tech settled his hands down, closing the lid to the balm. "Sometimes, it-" he glanced back up at you, honeyed eyes sweet in the fireplace light. His fingers drew away, softly settling back against your ankle. He glanced down at his hands, then back up at you, cheeks warming, then at his hands again. "Sometimes it works."

Slowly, Tech drew your ankle up, inhaling quietly, pressing his lips gently to the scrapes. His eyes held yours, and he said, softer, "Better?"

You nodded, breath leaving you in a better way than before, and you held out your hand. "And this. I... hurt it."

His lips pressed in amusement as he scooted up on the bed. "How?"

"I just did." Your brows raised.

Tech smiled, gently taking your wrist and turning it over, examining, warm lips gently pressing to the pulse of it. Your fingers curled at the warmth, and you hummed, happy. "Anywhere else?"

Your free hand drew up, smoothing over your cheek. "Here," You mumbled, watching him slide closer to you on the bed, and he softly held your face. His hands were cool, soft, but you could feel the experience in every ridge. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in, lips you had noticed on your first meeting greeting your cheek. They stayed there, longer, drawing back after you turned his face, running your thumb over your lower lip.

Tech's thumb followed the motion, eyes tracing the movements of his fingers. "And what's wrong here?'

"Nothing," You breathed, the proximity intoxicating you. "Just... precautionary."

"Mm." Tech mumbled, eyes moving between your own and the lips. "Precautionary for... what exactly?" His words held amusement, the curve on his mouth supporting your theory.

"Everything," You rasped. "It worked everywhere else."

Tech sighed gingerly, tugging you in, fingers resting under your chin. His lips were warmer than his hands, sweet, and they tasted like peppermint and tea, everything good. Your hands rested against his arms, reveling in the sweetness of his lips, breaking away from his healing touch.

The thunder rumbled outside again. Tech paused, glancing at the window. "I should go back."

You shook your head, sitting up again, fingers finding themselves wrapping in his shirt. "Stay," The word was more pleading than you intended, though you wanted him to be here, his presence, just to... hold your soul in his. "Please? The cliffs are dangerous. I'll take you first thing in the morning."

Tech paused, nodding softly, laying back on the comforter. He tugged your head to his chest, kissing your hair chastely, sweetly, and when he exhaled you ran a hand over his ribs. You were halfway asleep when you heard Tech realize, "I left my coat outside."

You must have fallen asleep, and he must have had the mercy to not wake you, because the morning found you in the same place, on his chest, finger still in the cotton of the good doctor's shirt.

#bad batch reader insert #tech x reader #bad batch tech x reader #western au #clone force 99 reader insert #tech x you #bad batch tech x you #minty writes #haha i know a few of yall already saw this #sweats #tbb western au

135 notes · View notes

blazingstar29 · 1 year

Text

actively fighting the urge to write a real genius top gun au where ice is chris, and mav is mitch because i want to fill the void of unhinged ice fics ngl

#top gun 1986 #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky

87 notes · View notes

moonchildsaurora · 3 years

Text

Darling, Dance for Me?

✤ sniper!San x female exotic dancer!reader ✤ genre: Mafia AU // 30% fluff, 60% spice, 10% platonic flirting with Woo ✤ t/w: mentions of guns/shooting, mentions of alcohol, mature clubbing themes, highly suggestive in the second half (but not smut), rated M ✤ count: 2k+

a/n - this was suppose to be for Valentine’s Day but, oh well! Enjoy some spice with one pink haired Sannie, coz we all know even though he looks soft. . . .he’s just a devil in disguise. This is probs my most suggestive writing till date as well, it was fun and am looking forward to writing more spice in the future hehet 💙

✛ play these vibes: BOBBY - ‘DeViL’, Sunmi - ‘Black Pearl’, Kai - ‘Mmmh’ ✛

“Mother told me, never to dance with the devil, So I danced for him instead.”

Cherry rouge.

Not your usual go-to, but a special occasion calls for some special exceptions. And damn did you look like fine wine tonight. Giving your styled curls another spritz of hair spray, you took one last inspection in your vanity mirror.

Work was throwing a Valentine’s event and thus you found yourself having to dig through the back of your wardrobe to find a suitable outfit for tonight. Bold burgundy lace hugged tightly around your body replacing the mellower neutral tones you’d wear on any other night. Your roommate had even shoved a pair of thigh highs and heels on you to match the garter.

And cherry lips to bring the whole look together.

“You’ll thank me later! Hell everyone in the club would, for presenting god’s gift to them!”

You had laughed at her supportive enthusiasm, waving her away with embarrassment though you greatly appreciated the pre-shift hype.

When you headed for the kitchen, you could hear the TV in the lounge and glanced to see your roommate watching the evening news. She turned to call out for you but stopped mid-way upon realising you were already out of your room.

“Damn girl…you’ll sure be breaking hearts tonight with that fit!!” she yelled-gasped, brows waggling for a cheeky added effect.

“Well that’s no good. Dancers are supposed to be Cupids of the night, maybe they should’ve given me Aphrodite instead.”

A smile tugged on your lips as you saw your roommate falling back on the sofa snickering. Grabbing the bottle of Ten to One from what you both named ‘The Life Juice’ shelf, you started to fill your rose gold hip flask with the white rum. The debonair bartender at the club would usually be more than happy to concoct you a cup of much-needed poison to get you through the night. However, on such a busy event, you might not even have time to swing by the bar – so plan B was in order.

Also, whoever thought to invent garter pouches was a genius in your eyes. The amount of times you had snuck in a sip or two up on the podium without missing a beat or being noticed had to be one of your greatest feat till date.

Except maybe for the one who bought said pouch and flask for you. Seeing the shadow of their pleased smirk whenever you donned on something from them never failed to coax the goosebumps across your skin. Perhaps that garnet embellished choker would be the icing on the cake then. You made a mental note to put that on before you headed out.

“Hey honey…”

The tone of your roommate turned a little more serious.

“On the news just then, another one of those random sniper attacks happened along Soleil Street. Shit, that’s only two streets away from the club.”

The city has gotten used to such news every now and then. All leads of the serial sniper always went cold, not that they left behind any substantial traces for the authorities to begin with.

The law wasn’t the only ruling force in the area. Everyone knew that.

So long as one didn’t attract the wrong attention, they’d be free to go about their business.

“I’m dropping you off, are you ready to go?”

“Wait! It’s alright, I don’t want to trouble you.”

Your roommate gave you a look before swiping her car keys from the counter. “What would trouble me is not knowing whether you’ve made it to work and back safely. Now c’mon, the night is awaiting that cute booty of yours!”

“Yes mum.”

How lucky were you to have an angel for a roommate?

“Give me a heads up if you intend to bring anyone home tonight yeah? I’ll be sure to vacate the apartment before any sinning begins here.”

Or not.

A euphoric buzz filled every corner of the club tonight. Whether it was due to the special occasion or not, everyone was getting drunk off the atmosphere. The bar was a never-ending fountain of liquid luck and smoke veiled corners of the venue where patrons dealt cards and wits. A sea of bodies dominated the dancefloor, curling around one another in ecstasy as the thumping bass set the rhythm for them.

The centre podium was where the real magic unfurled.

Up on there, you felt powerful. Up on there, was your domain to rule.

Long have you enticed all those who returned back to ‘The Blue Butterfly’. So close, yet so far, for most could only have the visual satisfaction. Of watching you, along with your fellow dancers weave around golden poles and offer hands to those who sat in plush velvet chairs closest to the podium. Only to sashay away the last minute.

How bees are drawn to nectar and moths to light, the people keep coming back.

Tonight the club was decked out in a more sensual feel to fit the Valentine’s vibe. Long drapes of rose silk hung around the podium and you used those to accentuate the flow and movement of your body curves. The silks caressed the bare skin not hidden underneath your outfit and you pretended to take shy peeks around the fabrics at the audience. Sending a lucky wink or flying kiss their way.

In the middle of a mid-air twirl, you saw a familiar figure heading towards your side of the podium. You slowly lowered yourself back down to the floor, using your legs to wrap around the silks as leverage. Not missing the opportunity to be playful – you mimed shooting an arrow towards the club’s top croupier.

Wooyoung instantly clutched his heart with his hand that wasn’t occupied with holding one of Mingi’s own cocktail infusion. Letting out a hearty giggle, you slid over the podium floors to the edge where Wooyoung had propped himself up on.

“Don’t you look simply irresistible?” he crooned at you.

You could’ve said the exact same for him. All fitted to a tee in Givenchy with a classic choker that demanded attention for prominent collarbones.

“Now, how may I be of service to you tonight handsome?” you spoke over the music.

The youthful charmer leaned in towards you, shaking dark wavy strands out of his eyes. Eyeing his cotton candy pink drink, you ducked your head and took a few sips from the straw before Wooyoung drew it away. It tasted vaguely like pink lemonade with hints of vodka and vanilla.

“Ah ah, this isn’t for you poppet. Besides…” he tipped your chin back up with two fingers, “…wouldn’t want to waste your appetite before your main course tonight, would we?”

That made you perk right up.

“V.I.P Room Aurora has kindly requested for you. Drinks have already been sent up and the room’s been booked for the whole night.”

Not that booking was really needed since it was your room. It was just for formality.

Wooyoung helped you off the podium and smoothly guided you through the crowd, placing you in front of him so as to avoid being grabbed by uninvited hands from behind. You both stopped at the foot of the polished glass stairs that led up to the V.I.P guest rooms.

“Off you go now! Oh and try not to make too much of a mess for our cleaners, they really ought to get a pay rise from some of the things they’ve witnessed in those rooms.”

You would’ve kicked Wooyoung for his brazen tongue, but you did well to remind yourself that would be rather impudent on your part. Whilst you have a jovial bond with him, it still doesn’t erase his high-standing status within the inner circle. You knew better than to cross that line of respect.

“Won’t make any promises I can’t keep, Jung!”

You left him with a soft pat on his cheek and ascended towards your utopia that awaited.

Swinging the golden embossed doors open, sultry melodious tune of a saxophone greeted you. Like molten dark chocolate, it was rich and tantalizing. The crystalline blue hue of the room’s lighting was fitting for the slow jazzy blues.

A spacious circular sofa curved around a glass table in the centre, providing a perfect view of the bejewelled podium. The wide one-way windows were especially designed for privacy. You could spectate over almost the whole club below, something you quite enjoyed during your breaks. The countless types of people that you observed stepping into your world; from the timid newcomers to the seasoned hedonists and the stories they brought with them of their journey to ‘The Blue Butterfly’.

But there was no time for that tonight. Not when you see broad sculptured shoulders that your hands have meticulously memorised the planes of – right in front of you.

Still clad in his all-black incognito leather fit, you couldn’t help but stay by the door to appreciate his form. A huge bouquet of ivory and deep red roses sat on the glass table with an open box of what you suspected were chocolates inside. A loud pop of the champagne bottle went off. You bit your lips when you saw his toned arms flex as he gripped the bottle in one hand and tipped a stream of golden bubbles into two flute glasses in the other.

As the music picked up, you decided it was time to make your presence known. Walking with confident steps over the velveteen carpet you went to wrap your arms around his cinched waist. Resting your cheek on the cool leather vest of his back, you took his scent in.

Smoke and city musk lingered around.

You figured he must’ve come straight from his assignment. What better reason to use than to spoil him extra as post-work relaxation? His hand came up to wrap around yours and you felt the dancing of lips leaving petal kisses across your knuckles.

“You stink…” you mumbled lightly against his back.

San let out a low chuckle before setting the champagne bottle down and turning around to snake both arms around you. Calloused hands from the years of gripping guns instead of supple flesh imprinted their warm touch into your skin.

“Oh? Then I’m sure you won’t mind helping me freshen up, right Princess?”

“San!” you squealed when you felt him deliberately rub sweat against your neck before attacking it with more love bites.

“You taste like sweet temptation.”

You arched your neck out of habit when you felt his tongue swipe across it. Teeth bit down lightly around the garnet choker San bought for you for Christmas.

When you felt hands travelling down west towards your garter, you gave San a light shove backwards to the sofa.

“Not so fast, Choi.”

His predatory feline eyes took its time to rake down your body, committing every inch to memory. You made a show of bending over to grab the two champagne flutes off the table, the sharp intake of breath behind you made you preen with pride. You took your seat on your throne, not at all surprised to feel how much pent-up tension San had through the tight leather.

Clink. A toast made for the love of two.

“Happy Valentine’s, darling.”

“Thank you, San. You sure know how to spoil a lady don’t you?”

“Only the one who’s sniped right through my heart.”

Oh the irony.

You smiled when he pulled you close and claimed a proper kiss, whispering a, “You sap,” against his wind-chapped lips. Tasting the fruit acidity from the golden bubbles as you both exchanged kitten licks.

San’s rouge-stained lips chased after yours when you broke off from the kiss to place your champagne flute back down on the table. Hands anchoring your hips in place as you reached to pluck a couverture chocolate-covered strawberry from the box. Turning back round to San, your lips formed a small pout noticing that his freshly dyed hair was still hidden underneath his cap.

He let you discard it behind the sofa and you could’ve sworn he purred with satisfaction when you ran your hands through his cotton candy pink strands. Hands gave your bottom a firm squeeze and San begun to run his fingers along the hem of your lace. The husky vocals from the record player drifted back, interlacing with the saxophone.

That was your cue.

“Eyes on me.”

You held San’s gaze, fire reflecting fire. The strawberry gets slipped past the seams of his lips and all the while San chews intently, his eyes never wavered. He’s got his precious pearl all to himself, just the way he loves it. And you have the city’s most lethal hitman watching your back from dawn to dusk. San was the dangerous game you played, only to win the safest love.

“Darling, won’t you please dance for me?”

“With pleasure, Sir.”

243 notes · View notes

seventeenwrites · 3 years

Text

Catharsis - Chapter Two

-> Group: The Boyz

-> Type: Short Series

-> Member(s) of Interest: Sunwoo

-> Word Count: ~2.9k

-> Genre: angst, fluff, apocalypse au

-> Warnings: alien apocalypse, guns/weapons, blood, violence, death, cursing, female MC

-> Playlist: Hold You in My Arms by Ray LaMontagne; All Right Now by Angel Olsen; Saccharine by Atta Boy; Love & Hate by Michael Kiwanuka

-> a/n: Hey guys! Here's chapter two! Again, I want to emphasize that my goal with this series is to portray a kind of love which transcends any kind of labels we’ve assigned to love (romantic, platonic, familial, etc.). It may seem a bit hard-and-fast, but I think that is a reflection of the world around these characters. When you don’t know if you will live to see another day, when you are surrounded by death and tragedy, you live and you love without regrets, or at least you try your damnedest to.

Catharsis.

And then, fortunately, my eyes opened. Now, this wasn’t fortunate because I was alive, but rather because of the way I was alive. The fire that had separated Sunwoo and I the night before had died, but the coals were still glowing, so that they could easily be re-ignited. Just beyond the pit lay Sunwoo, still sleeping. One of his shoes had been thrown six feet away in the middle of the night, and his left arm was almost completely smothering his face.

Before I had time to laugh at him, a voice interrupted me.

“Oh, Ari! I’m assuming Sunny filled you in last night.” I whipped my head in the direction of the voice, to find the same man who had yelled at us the night before. Jacob, right? When not puffy-faced and half-asleep, he was much better-looking. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes popped out and his cheekbones were raised nonetheless, in a way that reminded me of my mother's face in her youth. Next to Jacob was another man, who I could immediately tell was the leader of whatever this place was. His nose high on his face and his brow heavy, he was reminiscent of a Renaissance sculpture, elegantly beautiful, yet intimidatingly powerful. He was also impressively clean; everything from his ears to his nail beds were devoid of even a single smudge of dirt.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I think so,” I said, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around myself, suddenly self-conscious of my dirty T-shirt and basketball shorts.

“Good. Sangyeon and I are gonna go collect more firewood. There’s berries and nuts in those if you get hungry.” Jacob pointed to a collection of miscellaneous containers by the centermost tent. Wooden crates, mason jars, old metal lunch boxes decorated with superheroes and princesses, even a piggy bank. Resourceful. Smart, I thought to myself. I turned back to the two men, to find that Jacob had already started walking away. Sangyeon still stood before me and assessed me for a few seconds, slightly nodding his head and furrowing his brow.

“We’ll be back,” he said before slinging a backpack over one shoulder and following Jacob out of the camp. I didn’t blame him. If I was running a camp and one of my members suddenly showed up with a random girl, I would be suspicious, too.

As the day got brighter, more of the members woke up and came to greet me, and I got to know more about who these people were and how this place worked. There was Kevin, who came out of the same tent as Jacob, and who was a self-proclaimed genius chef, but judging by the defined musculature on his small figure, he was useful for more than his culinary skills. In the next tent there was Changmin and Chanhee, who seemed to be attached at the hip; they were both lean, perfect for long-distance running. The next tent housed Eric and Haknyeon, who were both robust and muscular, obvious fighters. The last tent was home to Juyeon, Younghoon, and Hyunjae, who entered last and were all visibly athletic, with their long and sturdy physiques. I had finally figured it out. This place was a powerhouse. No Echo would be a match for these boys.

“Always tardy, huh, sleepyheads?” Changmin jested towards the last three to join our circle around the dead fire.

“SHHH!” Eric suddenly play-whispered, “You’ll wake the baby.” He pointed towards Sunwoo’s still-sleeping figure.

“Eric, you’re literally younger than him,” Kevin laughed while trying to catch berries in his mouth, and failing. Hilariously.

“By like eight months!” Eric shouted, a slight pout donning his face.

“That’s pretty significant, if you ask me.” We all looked down at Sunwoo, whose arm was still covering his eyes, but whose mouth was visibly quivering to maintain a laugh. He peeked out beneath his arm to see what Eric’s response would be, but Haknyeon was already holding Eric back.

“Okay, babies. Let’s calm down. Jacob and Sangyeon will be back soon and I’m sure they’ll have food.” Juyeon hushed-- his voice had a way of calming the boys down that could only have been achieved through years of trust and reliability. His voice and the mention of food seemed to lull the pretend conflict, and pretty soon, side conversations enveloped the entire group. I sat and watched Sunwoo. He was chatting with Kevin who was right next to him, and he was laughing at something, his head thrown back. I found myself smiling. Two smiles in 24 hours. That’s gotta be a record.

Sunwoo’s eyes met mine and I felt my heart leap. He excused himself from his conversation and walked over to sit next to me, placing his hand on top of mine. Again, I noted just how soft his hands were. And warm too, compared to the frigid morning air. As if feeling his warmth made me colder, a shiver traveled down my spine.

“Cold?” Sunwoo asked. I nodded in reply. “Let me in there, then,” he said, pointing at my blanket. I opened it and he stuck himself into my arms, grabbing them to close on top of him. He was warm. Physically, but he also warmed me from the inside, like drinking a cup of hot cocoa after playing in the snow, or getting a hug from your mom after your first piano recital. He felt like home.

-------

When Jacob and Sangyeon came back, they were dragging a deer behind them, backpacks chock full of firewood. The boys all scrambled up excitedly; I could only make out random interjections and complaints about hunger from the younger ones.

“You’ll finally get to see me in action, Ari,” Kevin quipped, gathering random tools and ingredients to cook the deer with.

Sangyeon walked up to Sunwoo and I, placing his bag by his feet and looking me up and down, just like he had before he left. Still suspicious of me, I guess. He turned his eyes to the boy next to me, looking him up and down as well, and started, “Go get some water from the stream, will you?”

“Sangyeon, come on! It’s been three weeks already, surely I can do something else?”

“Sunny, I’m sorry, but your legs obviously just not healed yet.”

Sunwoo looked as though he was going to protest again, but Jacob cut in before he could: “Doctor’s orders, bud. I’ll take a look at it again later today.”

Shoulders slumped, Sunwoo dramatically sighed and grabbed my hand, dragging me along with him.

“I’ve been on water duty for three weeks, now. I mean, I understand. They care about me; they want me to be safe, and the path to the stream is clear and short-- almost impossible to get hurt. But like, come on. Three weeks of getting water. I’m sick of this damn path!” He joked, swatting a vine out of his way.

“What happened to your leg, anyway?” I asked. “If you don’t mind sharing,” I quickly added, suddenly afraid that it was too personal.

Sunwoo stopped in his tracks, looking at the ground. I could see the wheels turning in his head, as if he was trying to figure out how much of himself to reveal to me. He sighed and let go of my hand, turning to face me. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at me, the morning sunlight shining only on the right half of his face.

“It was about two months ago. A few of us were out looking for clothes and other essentials. We figured we’d go about ten miles east and get to the city that used to be there, hit all of the convenience stores and shopping malls. But we strayed too far from camp, and we got lost on our way back. By sundown we were in the middle of the woods with no shelter, no food, nothing.

“We were ambushed in the middle of the night. Those bastards were wearing our own faces. We couldn’t tell who was real and who was an Echo. Hyunjae did this to me,” he said, referencing his injured ankle, “Pushed me into a big tree trunk. I forgive him, obviously. It was crazy, and he was trying to protect himself. That same night…” he trailed off.

I could tell that he was about to cry, since he was starting to choke on his words, “That same night, I-- I killed one of our guys. Didn’t know it was him until it was too late, until he was already bleeding red. I shot him. He was flailing around all crazy-like with his knife. I didn’t know if he was him or an Echo, so I shot him. I should've-- I should’ve shot his foot, or his hand, to see his blood. But I didn’t. I got him right underneath the heart. Missed it by a hair. So I held him as he went. For thirteen minutes, I held him. I looked him in the eyes as the life left ‘em and I held his hands as they went limp. That poor fucking bastard, I’m so sorry to him.”

Sunwoo was crying. It was a cry I had never seen or heard from a human before. It was absolutely, heart-wrenchingly tragic, and the only thing I could do for him was hold him. I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t his fault, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that he was still a good person, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that I loved him, because he knew that, too.

I didn’t tell him that his member was in a better place, because we both knew it wasn’t true.

-------

When we got to the stream, we were holding hands again. Sunwoo was still wiping tears off of his face with his free hand, but he was smiling again.

“Whaddya say, Ari? Care for a little dip before we head back?” Sunwoo teased, rocking his shoulders as if to say I’m joking, but if you’re down, then I’m really fucking down.

“Fine, kid,” I chortled, “but only because that water looks deliciously crisp right now.”

I turned away to place all of the water buckets on the ground, and when I turned back, Sunwoo was standing a yard or two away, facing the water. He reached down and took his shirt off in a swift and seamless motion, one which seemed to me only men were capable of performing. The sunlight kissed his skin, illuminating its smooth and tanned surface. The shadows of his shoulder blades danced across his back as he attempted to balance on a stepping stone. The gentle slope of his neck blended seamlessly into the crease of his spine which traveled all the way down his back, like a book that I never wanted to stop reading. His arms, outstretched in a balancing act, were lean, yet capable and sturdy shooting arms, slightly different in size as a reflection of his right-handedness.

He turned around to look at me, a wide smile on his face. His eyes were still bloodshot and puffy from crying, and his face still splotchy, but his smile-- his smile was brighter than the light of any sun. I didn’t think I had ever seen anyone or anything so beautiful in my life. I smiled back at him, and I felt my own eyes start to well up with tears.

“Come on, Ari! This stream isn’t gonna skinny-dip itself!” Forgiving his slightly awkward--yet adorable--phrasing, I accepted his challenge, jumping in with him.

As our heads both emerged, we held hands under the water, my thumb rubbing the soft skin of his. He leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of my ear, before settling his face into the crook of my neck. And then, again, we felt like nothing more than an extension of the earth below our feet and the sky above our heads.

Catharsis.

-------

Sunwoo and I arrived back at camp and we were met with ten horrified faces. To be fair, we looked an absolute mess. Our clothes were sopping wet, hanging off of our bodies like rags. As our feet had been too wet to put our shoes back on, we walked back barefoot, as evidenced by the dirt, mud, and scratches littering our ankles and calves. Our hair, like something out of a horror movie, dangling in front of our faces in stringy and curly sections.

“Sunny! What the heck, dude?” Jacob cried, staring in shock at Sunwoo’s now dirty and tattered bandage on his ankle. Sunwoo half-smiled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Cobie. You should’ve seen the stream today! It was so beautiful; we just had to swim in it!” He replied, a slight pout on his lips.

Chanhee was sitting at the fire a few feet away, a sly smile engulfing his face. “Oh sure,” he teased, “Swimming. I bet that’s all you two were doing.” He puckered his lips and wrapped his arms around himself, a type of mockery I hadn’t seen since high school. I couldn’t help but giggle at him, even if he was jumping to conclusions, and incorrect ones, at that.

Sunwoo and I hadn’t kissed. We didn’t need to, and maybe we never would. We only needed to hold each other. And frankly, that’s all I wanted to do for the rest of my days.

As Jacob unwrapped the bandage from Sunwoo’s ankle, his smile faltered for a second before he replaced it. I knew that look. I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“What is it?” Jacob looked at me, contemplating, then turned to Sunwoo and sighed. He resumed his faux angry persona from earlier, resembling a loving parent.

“This is why I told you to be careful, Sunny! The wound must have reopened at some point, and you got it dirty when you were out there. It should be fine if we wash it and dress it with herbs, but you’re gonna have to stay off of it for longer-- and no more playing in dirt, for Christ’s sake, Sunny.” Sunwoo looked like a child getting scolded for tracking dirt into the house, but I could see the twinkle of mischief still ever-bright in his innocent eyes.

Sangyeon walked over to us, still as reserved and stoic as ever. He looked me over as he always did, eyes filled with suspicion and piqued interest. He turned to Jacob, who I had figured out was something of a second-in-command.

“We’ve received word of a pack about a mile west. We should head out now, while it’s still bright out,” he turned to look at Sunwoo, still talking to Jacob“This is sort of an all-hands-on-deck situation. Is he okay to shoot?”

Sunwoo replied for Jacob by standing up, still young and eager to prove himself, “I’m fine, I promise! I’m not in pain, and my ankle won’t affect my shooting if I’m sniping. Sir.” Sangyeon looked Sunwoo up and down, slightly nodding his head, then reached out to pat him on the shoulder.

“Don’t get hurt again, buddy. We can’t lose anyone else.” That was the first time I had seen Sangyeon let his guard down, and I even saw a tear slip out of the corner of his left eye. Sunwoo bit his lip in an attempt to suppress the tears he had already let go that morning. Sangyeon was quick to wipe it and resume his cold air, though, and he turned to look at me, unsure of what to do with me.

“What do you mean you received word? And why are you seeking out Echoes? Shouldn’t we be, like, hiding from them?” I asked.

Sangyeon stared at me again. “I hear you’re good with a knife.”

“Not good. Excellent.”

He nodded and walked off, leaving my questions unanswered, to which I looked at Sunwoo in disbelief.

A slight smile spread across Sunwoo’s face and he started walking towards one of the smaller tents, expecting me to follow him. When I walked in, I saw more radios than I had ever seen in my life. Old ones that couldn’t have been less than 60 years old, the ones that were built into flashlights, walkie talkies, even old car radios.

“Kid, what the hell is this?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“This, Ari, is anything that can send or receive signals through the next hundred miles. Over the year and a half we’ve been here, we’ve found all of them.”

“B--But why?”

“So we can get them before they get us. There are lots of us out there, we send word to each other if we see or hear of Echoes that we can’t get ourselves.”

The wheels in my head were turning so quickly, and I still couldn’t understand it.

“So-- So you guys actually… hunt Echoes? You don’t just run from them?”

“That’s right. And we’re gonna keep hunting them. Until every one of those bastards is six feet under.”

It all finally made sense. How organized and resourceful they all were. How skilled they all were at fighting. The hierarchy and positions they all assumed, with Sangyeon at the top. This wasn’t a camp.

It was a machine. An Echo-hunting machine.

#the boyz #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz au #kim sunwoo #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #kpop imagines #kpop au #apocalypse au #sunwoo #sunwoo au

27 notes · View notes

bluerose5 · 3 years

Text

The Ghost of Paradise (Exile AU)

Chapter 2: By the Minute

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,796

Tags: Mass Effect: Andromeda, Scott Ryder, Reyes Vidal, Reyder, Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Exile, Flirting, Secrets, Complicated Relationships, Eventual Romance, Rivalry, Engineer/Mechanic Scott Ryder, Jealousy

[Read it here as well on ao3.]

“Our agents say that you were speaking with Reyes Vidal at Kralla’s,” Nola said. She didn’t even give Scott a chance to breathe. The second he was through their gates —which were still a work in progress— Scott was ambushed. “Do I even want to know what you have planned?”

Scott grinned at her.

“Why must I always have something planned?” Scott asked. “Reyes is a good friend. For all you know, we could have been catching up over drinks.”

“‘Could have’ doesn’t mean that you were.”

“Fair enough.”

As she fell into step at his side, Nola led him around while they spoke, appraising their growing community with pride.

“Scott, as governor of Paradise, should I not be made aware of any transactions that might affect us?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Tell me what I need to know then. Nothing more, nothing less.”

As if he could refuse her insistent prodding. Every time he left, he always forgot how relentless she could be upon his return, but only when it pertained to matters that could have both predictable and unforeseen effects in their future.

In a way, Scott was grateful to have someone with that type of dedication on their side. They’re going to need it.

“I swear, it wasn’t anything particularly groundbreaking,” Scott promised. “I gave him some seeds from our latest project in exchange for a long-ranged scanner modification. That’s it.”

“Hmm… A decent enough trade.”

“Glad to have your approval.”

Of course, it was too much to hope that she would leave it at that.

“What is it for?” Nola asked.

Scott knew from experience not to lie to her face.

He sighed. “I’m going to scout out some of the Remnant ruins nearby. See if I can get a read on their bots, or a turret if I’m lucky.”

She cocked her head to the side and considered that for a moment, lips pursed.

“Promise to be careful then. I know you would gladly give your life to protect any of these people, but we don’t need you to throw it away because of pure recklessness,” she reminded him. “If it comes down to an altercation, we would rather have you here than some lousy turret schematics. Besides—” She shrugged. “You would probably be the only one who could make sense of them anyways. You and that stupidly genius brain of yours.”

Scott scoffed, suddenly uncomfortable as he shifted in place.

“Got it from my parents, or so they say.”

Ellen and Alec Ryder. The woman who literally gave her life to perfect biotic implants and the man who created a whole new type of AI. Quite the legacy to live up to.

Good thing Scott wasn’t living his life based on their achievements. Andromeda was a whole different playing field compared to the Milky Way. The work he was doing with Paradise was incredible in its own right. At least, he liked to think so.

If he could change at least one person’s life for the better in Andromeda, then he considered that a success.

Based on the feedback he was receiving from the residents, he was doing a damn good job, and that was enough for him.

But Nola had a point.

People relied on Scott now. As much as he was willing to dive headfirst into danger, he needed to refrain from doing so.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised her. “If things start to go south, I’ll ping you and Nakamoto.”

“Thank you,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Scott hated to worry her so, but there was that one other matter.

“If it’s any consolation to you,” Scott said, trying for a lighter tone yet failing, “Reyes offered to accompany me on the trip.”

Nola stopped short, and Scott skidded to a halt. She narrowed her eyes at him with a sneer curling at her lip.

“No, that is not of any consolation to me. Scott Ryder, you know how he is.”

“Charming and witty?” Scott tried for his best smile, but Nola wasn’t buying into that bullshit, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Flighty and untrustworthy, especially once his back is against the wall.” Then, she amended her statement, taking on a slightly accusatory tone. “That’s assuming you didn’t pay any of his ridiculous service fees.”

“Puh-lease.” Scott chuckled. “If anyone should be spending their credits, Reyes should be the one paying me for my company. I’m a treasure not many can afford.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nola snorted, “but at least you know your worth.”

“They say that time is money, after all. I’ll make sure to charge him by the minute while we’re together.”

“Please do, and make sure to get a picture of his face once you show him that bill.”

Scott was only happy to see her smile again.

“Will do,” he said.

“While you’re at it, drop a few hints here and there that Paradise might be looking to contract out some exclusive deals with top-rate smugglers. Leave out the ‘top-rate’ part, of course. Can’t have that going to the poor man's head.”

“His ego is already insufferable enough without the compliments,” Scott agreed, “but isn’t the whole point of secrecy for you and I not to draw attention to our connections here?”

“A woman can dream though, can’t she?” Nola sighed.

“So much for Reyes being ‘untrustworthy.’”

Nola didn’t even hesitate, brushing off his attempt to use her words against her.

“Skill is skill, and we don’t exactly have the people or resources to be picky right now. Everything is a commodity on Kadara, even integrity. If he betrays us, we’ll deal with him, simple as that.”

Right.

Still, it was laughable to think that the Charlatan would take on a contract with some of his direct competitors.

Although, that sounds like exactly the type of stunt that Reyes would pull. More than likely, he’d have an ulterior motive for doing so, but Scott could see it happening.

Did he support the idea, though? Definitely not.

“I don’t know,” Scott muttered. “I couldn’t see Reyes limiting his business to one group, especially if we’re only starting to get our feet wet.”

“You would know how he operates better than I, but I suppose that attitude is understandable. Disappointing, but understandable.” Nola grumbled. “Well, if nothing else, tell him the least he could do is give you a discount.”

“Trust me, I’ve been working that angle for a while. No such luck.”

“Greedy bastard.”

As they finished up their routine patrol, they soon switched direction, heading towards Nakamoto's clinic to conclude their meeting. There, Paradise’s leaders convened. They reviewed the requests that their colonists posted on the message boards around the settlement. Together, they decided on what matters they could approve for certain and which ones would be placed on the docket for a community vote. After that, they moved on to logistics, including topics such as requisitions and inventory.

To draw the meeting to a close, Nola relayed their latest numbers for colonial development. Water production was steady. However, food stores would be struggling soon to keep up with the recent influx of residents, so security personnel and all of those who knew their way around a gun were strongly encouraged to increase hunting and foraging activities while out on patrols or while performing their daily tasks. A roster will be posted on the local message boards to look for volunteers who would like to fill a full-time hunter-gatherer role.

Hopefully, what few angaran scientists they had amongst their people would be able to process their first batch of nutrient paste after their next harvest. It wasn’t exactly the tastiest solution available, but it was a necessary one if they were to survive.

In terms of population, there was a rapid spike in enrollment when word spread that Paradise actually got shit done and held true to their promises, but they expected the effect to eventually plateau once people settled in. Angara enrollment was up at the moment, especially after Scott appointed Nola as governor, and they have even seen a few Initiative members join up, having made the journey all the way from the Nexus to be reunited with friends, family, and loved ones.

Scott asked that they spread word for people to be warm and welcoming. The request probably wasn’t necessary, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Their community would make no friends by tearing people apart, and they prided themselves on being close and tight-knit.

It was important that they not only claimed to be but that they acted like it as well, backing up their words with actions.

Security assignments were then posted. Patrols would have to be upped to make up for an increase that they were seeing with gang-related attacks. Once automated security measures were in place, they would revisit the matter in order to assess which sectors needed heightened security. Emergency drills would be held at the end of the week.

With all of their needs addressed, Nola called the meeting to a close.

Once the meeting was adjourned, Scott approached Nola and their Head of Security, requesting a full census to be done within a day's time. Scott needed names, numbers, faces. Each citizen’s profile needed to be updated within their database.

If Scott was going to make an effective defense matrix for the colony, then he would prefer to program an IFF system that only a select few could remotely activate. For the system to work as intended, all of the colonists' photo IDs and biometric profiles would need to be kept current and constantly updated in real-time.

Nola promised to see to it that Scott got what he needed, shooing him off.

Apparently, he was hovering, but Scott could take a hint. He could tell when he was no longer needed, and he knew that Nola worked best when he wasn’t constantly worrying after her like a mother hen.

Departing from the settlement, Scott cloaked himself the second he went beyond the boundaries of their walls.

He was almost halfway back to Port when he received a message from Reyes. Figuring that he was in the clear, Scott made sure that the coast was clear before deactivating his cloak.

Pulling up his omni-tool’s interface, Scott opened the message. Along with it, there was a set of coordinates, sent from Reyes’s location.

R: Think I’m ready to cash in on those shuttle repairs. Wouldn’t mind the company right about now.

Scott’s fingers hovered above the holographic keys, contemplating his next move before deciding to hell with it.

S: Miss me that much?

R: Am I that obvious?

He didn’t even give Scott a chance to reply before he sent another message.

R: If it’s still in question though, let me put it bluntly.

R: I want to see you.

Scott pursed his lips, cursing his stupid heart for racing in response.

S: Give me a few. I’ll be there.

R: I’ll be looking forward to it.

Before he could embarrass himself, Scott closed out his messages. He quickly made his way to Port, grabbing his bag of tools and gear before venturing back out into the badlands.

From there, Scott followed the coordinates to a cliff, overlooking a nearby valley. The sun was slowly but surely sinking down over the horizon, lightning up the sky in array of pinks and oranges and reds.

Reyes was already waiting for him by the time he arrived, the shuttle powered down for the moment.

However, the second Scott noticed that Reyes was facing away from him, he instantly slowed his walk to a crawl. He bent his knees into a slight crouch and shifted his weight with each step, toe to heel as he snuck his way up behind him.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

Scott delighted in watching him him jump in shock, only to have a blade at his throat in the blink of an eye.

As soon as Reyes realized who it was, all the blood drained from his face.

“S–Scott!”

Hands raised in surrender, Scott raised an eyebrow at him incredulously.

“You know, I was kind of expecting a warmer welcome,” he admitted, careful of the firaan's sharp edge. Keema must have given it to him. “Have to say, though, would it be weird if I was a little turned on right now?”

Reyes scoffed.

Trailing the blade along the outline of his throat, Scott swallowed thickly when he eventually felt its pointed tip press underneath his chin. Reyes tilted it up, and Scott followed, lest he risk being cut.

Their eyes met, and Reyes smirked.

Bastard was toying with him.

Retracting his knife, Reyes sheathed the firaan while Scott tried to catch his breath. The goosebumps left behind in the dagger's wake soon receded, yet a warm heat lingered.

“Tsk.” Reyes huffed at him. “Ryder—”

Uh-oh, back to last name basis. From experience, that meant trouble.

“You know better than to sneak up on me!” Reyes scolded.

“I do,” Scott said, not even afraid to acknowledge it, “but I love getting a rise out of you.”

“What if I would have hurt you?”

“But you didn’t.”

Scowling, Reyes placed his hands on his hips. Shaking his head, he pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Scott, what the hell am I going to do with you?” he asked, releasing his nose, half-fond and half-frustrated.

“I’m sure we could think of something.”

Reyes hummed in agreement, watching Scott approach the shuttle with his bag tossed over his shoulder. He dropped it to the ground, then immediately got to work.

Watching him closely, Reyes leaned against the side of his shuttle with a thoughtful look.

“Maybe I could take you on a date?”

While Reyes tried to sound confident, his attempt ultimately failed. Instead of forming the words into a bold offer, they fell flat, sounding more like an uncertain question.

Scott stopped what he was doing. He spared Reyes a brief glance, only to return his attention to the task at hand, hiding his flushed face.

“Wouldn’t Zia disapprove?” Scott asked, being rougher than necessary as he practically took apart the control panel.

Envy curled inside him, spreading like an infection through his bloodstream. There was a sharp squeeze around his heart as it was encased in the feeling.

Reyes called him out on it, way too perceptive for his own good.

“Ryder, are you jealous?” Reyes chuckled.

Scott glared, causing him to throw his hands up in surrender.

“Just asking.”

“And if I am?” Scott retorted.

“Then I’d have to put your mind at ease.”

“It’s really none of my busin—”

Reyes closed the distance between them. Reaching out, he cupped Scott’s cheek, brushing his thumb along his bottom lip. Weak as he was, Scott leaned into his touch for a split second. His eyes threatened to flutter closed, but he had to remain firm about this one matter, if nothing else.

As he started to pull away, Reyes said, “There is nothing going on between Zia and I.” Scott froze into place. “We went out for drinks a few times, nothing more.”

“You swear?” Scott asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I swear.” His voice grew heated, impassioned. “I might be a bad man when it comes to many things, but I wouldn’t ever lie about that to you.”

Scott considered that before replying, “Well, like I said—” He cleared his throat, eyes averted. “ It’s not really any of my business, so I don’t know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

He trailed off, uncertain why he was acting that way.

Reyes furrowed his brow.

“No need to be sorry. If you had crossed a line, then I would have said so.”

“Even then, you’re not mine. Your relationships are your own.”

“I could be.”

Scott regarded him skeptically.

“Could be what?”

“Yours,” Reyes answered instantly, staring intently at Scott. “Just say the word.”

If only they weren’t both keeping secrets from each other at the moment, then Scott might take him up on that.

Turns out, being with the Charlatan would be a huge conflict of interests. Who could’ve guessed?

Silence settled between them. It was as if the whole world was awaiting Scott’s answer with bated breath. Time itself seemed to stand still in anticipation.

“I—” He struggled to find the right words. “Give me time.”

That’s all he could ask.

Reyes’s hopeful expression fell, and that alone felt like a stab to the chest. Scott's breathing trembled a little, as if it was becoming difficult to continue drawing in one breath after another.

God, he didn’t want to hurt him, but neither of them could really afford to rush into things half-cocked.

Scott copied his earlier gesture, reaching out to cup Reyes’s cheek. The change was almost instantaneous, how the tension drained away, only for Reyes to melt into Scott’s touch. He leaned into his hand, starved for affection.

Scott swallowed thickly, unable to pull away, let alone take his eyes off of him for even a second.

“All I ask is that you give me time,” Scott repeated. “That’s not a ‘no.’ I just need to think a few things over, iron out a few details.”

Reyes listened, then agreed.

“Alright.” He pulled away with a small, private smile. “As if I could deny anyone such a reasonable request, especially you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Returning his attention to the shuttle, Scott got back to work. After all, he didn’t want to neglect the poor bird, and it appeared that the shuttle was in desperate need of a little TLC.

His diagnostics only confirmed his suspicions.

When a couple of sparks resulted from his prodding, Scott chastised Reyes for mistreating their baby. Reyes grew defensive, both of them falling back to old habits as they bickered.

This was the type of work that Scott did on the Nexus after he got sidelined and shafted. Systems repairs, shuttle repairs, routine maintenance… That sorta thing.

It was how he met Reyes to begin with. Few pilots had the energy to hang around and talk shop with Scott while he worked, especially since a lot of them had only recently returned from failed colonization efforts. Understandably, most people didn’t want to entertain idle conversation after watching their friends die out in the field.

That was fine by Scott, but Reyes had always gone out of his way —even then— to make sure that Scott had anything and everything that he needed.

They might have taken his shuttle out on a few joyrides together, gotten in trouble for wasting fuel, but Scott wouldn’t trade that time they spent together for anything in the galaxy.

Even now, it felt natural to settle back into their old routine. While Scott worked, Reyes watched, and they talked about anything and everything.

Time passed, and Scott only got deeper into the repairs and modifications. Despite the setting sun, he still broke a sweat, a light sheen glistening upon his skin.

Eventually, he had to take off his shirt, leaving him in a plain tank top that quickly got dirty along with his hands.

Swiping at the perspiration beading at his hairline, Scott grunted as he came to a stopping point for now. He reached for his bag, but what he was seeking wasn’t there.

“Shit.”

Turning towards Reyes, Scott huffed at him.

The bastard wasn’t even trying to hide his staring. Face flushed, he was biting teasingly at his bottom lip, brown eyes dark as he watched Scott through a hooded gaze.

Getting to his feet, Scott crossed his arms over his chest.

“See something you like?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re shameless.” Scott shook his head in disbelief, tsking under his breath. “You’re just as bad as that one time when Gil Brodie asked for a ‘second opinion’ on some fix he made. Turns out, I ended up doing almost all of the work while he sat back and watched.”

“Smart man,” Reyes noted, giving Scott a thorough once-over. “This Gil must have great tastes.”

Scott snorted.

“Flattery will get you nowhere. If you really want to make me happy, then you would grab your water bottle for me.”

“Did you forget yours?” Reyes asked, slightly concerned. After all, being caught out in the badlands without water was just asking for dehydration or heat stroke.

Nevertheless, he got the bottle for him. Scott placed his hands over Reyes’s, shrugging with a flustered blush.

“Yeah,” Scott sighed. “I thought I had packed it! I don’t know where it could’ve wandered off to.”

“Perhaps you were in a bit of a rush to get here,” Reyes said, trailing off suggestively.

Scott figured that he would allow that.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, “but what else do I keep you around for, if not the water? You wouldn’t want the guy repairing your shuttle to get dehydrated, right?” Scott smirked. “I could get delirious, and it would be very unfortunate if I just so happened to forget to install an essential component.”

Reyes gasped dramatically, relinquishing the water to Scott, who was quick to take a swig.

“You always have to watch out for the pretty ones,” Reyes grumbled. “Always causing trouble, keeping secrets…”

There it was again. That sense of knowing , that sense that both of them were holding something back. It was left unsaid. Neither confronted the other about it, but they knew that the secrets were there.

Before the sudden lag in conversation could get too awkward, Scott took another swig of water and asked, “So, you think I’m pretty?”

Reyes chuckled, glad for the change of subject.

“Kian seems to think so,” he muttered. Leave it to him to avoid the question. “He keeps asking when you’re going to start working for him at Tartarus.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“As a dancer?” He had to make sure he was hearing right.

“Yep.”

“Could you imagine?” Scott scoffed. “Me, shaking my ass for money? A tempting offer. It would probably be more profitable than the odd jobs I take on here and there, but I think I’m fine where I’m at.”

“Damn,” Reyes sighed, “what a shame.”

Scott raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“You saying you would have come to watch me?”

“Not only that, but I would have paid to watch you,” Reyes said, “especially if I could have gotten a private show out of it.”

Scott tried to imagine it, grinning in spite of himself.

“What’s so funny?” Reyes wondered.

“Nothing, nothing,” Scott said, brushing off his concern. “That just made me remember a thought that I had earlier.”

“What about?”

“Oh, you know.” Scott gestured vaguely. “Just that I should start charging you a fee for when we spend time together.”

Reyes winked at him.

“It would be worth every credit.”

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #scott ryder #reyes vidal #reyder #mreyder #my writing #my fanfic #scott ryder x reyes vidal #exile au #hopefully tumblr doesn't screw with the order of my paragraphs again :/

8 notes · View notes