#hunter one shots

[sannahofskva]

Shepherd’s Train

Description

Joy’s first time meeting the Lavender Folk, from his perspective.

Extra

I don’t own the Hunter series. Mercedes Lackey does.

This fic is also on AO3. Maybe check it out there.

The train slows to a stop several yards away, the smoke that had filled clearing up. The Drakken that had joined him is long gone, having bolted out of the cage seconds before the multitude of missiles collided with his shield. Unlike him, the beast didn’t believe that it or its shield would survive the heat and damage from the attack.

Soon enough, one of the humans at the front makes their way out of the train, climbing down the side. Magic comes off of them in waves, and his suspicions of them being a Hunter are shown to be true when a pack of Hounds burst out of a Portal and land by their side. The noise that the creatures make normally would’ve been deafening if he hadn’t had his shield quieting sound.

Torcion watches the Hunter walk towards him, the train slowly following behind them. During the wait, he studies them and their Hounds. Unlike those that he has seen in the largest city, this Hunter’s dress isn’t as… flashy in terms of human wear. It’s more muted and worn, like those who live in smaller towns and cities. And even stranger, the Hounds that walk beside them are something he’s never seen before. They come in an array of colors and sizes, looking less like the Hounds he’s familiar with and more like an eyesore-given life. The largest growls at him, and he raises an eyebrow at the thing.

The Hunter stops not too far from him, eyes looking him up and down in silence. They don’t say a thing, simply meeting Torcion’s eyes with a blank look. He watches them in turn, the rumbling of the train and the huffs of the Hounds the only thing he can hear.

“I see you, Hunter.” Torcion starts with, an idea forming in his mind. This Hunter isn’t like the rest.

“I see you, Magician.” The response came after a heartbeat, a sharp bite to the Hunter’s voice.

He smiles a bit inside. So she knows what I am? “What have you to do with the sheep behind you?”

As he had expected, there isn’t an immediate response to Torcion’s question. The Hunter probably wasn’t expecting it, clueing him in on the fact that this one didn’t grow up truly knowing what his kind considers humans. This might work in his favor.

“I am the shepherd of these sheep.” Ah, so she’s taking on the responsibility of the others? How expected of her.

“Then the shelter can spare a lamb. Or two.” He pauses, watching the human closely. “Or more.”

The Hunter tenses before quickly relaxing into the stand she was in before, the only indication that she was shocked by what he has said. Has she not heard of this happening before? Or maybe she had, but wasn’t expecting it to happen to her?

Even then, Torcion doesn’t glean much from her mind. It is completely blank, unusual for the majority of humans he had come across. There were a few, though, that he had met in passing, though there wasn't much of their humanity left in them when those meetings had happened.

“Not an option. You must look elsewhere, Magician.”

Ah, yes. The refusal. Not many would be daring enough to refuse, and little would survive long enough to refuse again or be swayed to let a few go. Most would have no hesitation in giving a Mage what he wants.

“You have no shield, no armor.” He states, staring at the Hunter in confusion. “And yet your mind is smooth.”

“So they say.” Soon comes a shrug as one of the Hunter’s hands moves to rest on the side of the nearest Hound, the one that has yet to leave her side. “Of a courtesy, please uncomber the way, Magician. I would take my sheep to their pasture.”

“You could… take them to mine.” Torcion suggests, and the surprise that he sees in the Hounds is telling enough. And, yet again, he senses nothing from the Hunter herself. “We have shepherds tending our flocks. You could be one, take season of me. Take me as your Lord and forsake the Lords of the city.”

Smiling a bit, he floats a smidge closer to the Hunter as he talks. “You would find a more pleasant life. I do assure you, your sheep would be tended. You could tend them yourself, if you wish. They will even prefer their new life.”

The Hunter practically snorts, her refusal obvious in the way she stands. “The Folk have no love for my kind. Why would you offer such a kind thing?”

He laughed at the comment, shaking his head. Though true for some, it isn’t for all. “You interest me, Hunter. You are not a sheep. You are more clever and patient than a wolf. You are braver than the lion. You are a new thing. You might prove to be a weapon in my hand. Or… something else.”

He leans down, meeting her eyes. “You are partially incorrect. Not all of my kind finds yours to be the enemy. And my kind do not find yours uncomely.” He straightened, eyes hardening a bit. “Properly groomed and garbed, of course. And your Hounds, they interest me too. They are new to me as well. What are they?”

“Oh, Zapotec.”

The word is one he doesn’t know, frowning as he tosses it around in his head. Then his focus turns back to the Hunter, noticing that her Hounds pile on and around her. It soon is revealed why when those missiles from before arch towards him, smacking his shield and causing it to cave inward. Eyes widening in surprise, he bamphs a second before his shield breaks.

This Hunter is interesting.

[luzity]

first vs last appearances

[misstoodles-doodles]

Bad Batch Sketch Page #1

I filled a whole canvas with sketches because my brain won’t stop thinking up stuff

✨Featuring✨:

Tech and Crosshair content because I’m SAD ABOUT THEM

RIP Hunter and his concussion and probably a stab wound

ProTECHtive Tech

Brother Drama™️

Echo’s near death experience and zinger number 132425226

Echo and Cross Sass

Big bro Wrecker who has my whole heart

Bandana-less Hunter because I said so + Baby Omegaaaaaaa

Bonus full unedited page+ B&W version :

[1800titz]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ & ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ

KNEELING LAMIA | Witch hunter!Harry x Witch!reader

There's too much tension in this cat-and-mouse. Inevitably, it stretches too taut and snaps.

★18+

This is ᴋɴᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʟᴀᴍɪᴀ for the KINKTOBER projects. Witch x Witch hunter au.

If you enjoy this, consider checking out my patreon masterlist, constantly being updated, with loads of exclusive content. If you would like to see the other KINKTOBER projects and join the taglist for upcoming projects, do so here.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: enemies. p-in-v. degradation. praise. pussy slapping (light). dom/sub undertones. rough sex. bro is simply kind of an asshole, but it's in an attractive way imo.

WC: 3.7K

You hate him. 

You hate him, you hate the grease in his derisory, lopsided smile, the one, two-tick at the corners of his mouth, like an omen on the hollow barrel of a cocked gun. The stupid white straightness of them, slick with spit and glimmering off the glowing oil lantern. 

The soft humanness in his unchiseled eyes. When they’re narrowed into slits, the color is so soft, so delicate, that they don’t feel nearly as sharp as he intends. The preternatural juxtaposition of a human having eyes that are so mesmerizing is absurd— the pink-rimmed oil painting of his irises, mounted in white, under the tarp of his lashes (they’re long, dark, and cast shadows across the green sfumato). You can nearly find sunstones flecking like gold flakes wading the surface of a pool, if you look close enough.

But the bands are eroded now. Lacking. You always thought his eyes were like the moss speckling the grove in your back garden. Now, the vibrancy of it, crawling up the trunks, feels like a distant memory.

Smeared, pupils bleeding wide like spilled ink. 

(You loathe the way his green reminds you of the malachite scattered across your window sill.)

You hate his hands, too. His fingers. The way they notch on reins, and the steel hilt of a gun. The way his pointer stretches across the metal trigger— click— and the way the aim is off. Misses. A bole eats the bullet, and you think, after so many tries, he has to not miss.

He has to not miss.

But he misses, and misses, and misses— the cat and mouse is an old, familiar game, but a fractured part of you thinks he misses on purpose. And you wonder who’s really the cat; when he’ll finally admit you’ve been filling his shoes out in the hunt, long before his time. 

But you hate his hands most because of the way they touch you. The way they feel good. Pinching your bones in place, thumbprints carving into your skin. 

Pressure points— he’s no good with a gun, but he’s good at finding pressure points, scoping them with his fingertips. Squeezing in. 

You hate his teeth, because you hate him, and he hates you, and you want to sweep them off the floor when you fracture every little bone in the composite of his skull with your palms and shatter them out with your fingers. The way they chew into your nipples and stab a crushed squeak out of you. 

(It’s the nature of the game— a double helix. Taijitu. Water and oil. You’re meant to despise each other, because dark has to exist to balance light. There has to be a villain in every story, otherwise the narrative collapses—)

You can’t stand the way his stupidly fat cock splits you on him, around him. The way when he groans, the way it starts as a hum between his ribs, and metastasizes into that yawning pry of his mouth, his soft lips. 

(Conflict. Resolution. Recycle.)

His hand pawing at a handful of your breast, like kneading dough. Testing the heft when it shakes under the pressure of his hips slamming in wet squelches, sack slapping to your sticky cunt. The blunt of his nails scraping down your sides, prying in where your waist tapers, and wrapping the barbs of his fingers around, where the rungs sit at your back, to lug you against him in filthy, wet smacks. Again— again. 

(Fuck, fuck, fuck—)

“—Fuck,” you mewl, scratching out at his temple, fingertips curling into the burnt umber tufts they can reach, pulling, tangling. Scraping. Your thumb grazes his cheekbone. He bites down on your nipple, instead, where he’s been rolling it between his teeth with his tongue, and grunts. It makes you squirm on the table and arch.

When he unlatches and lurches up to loom over you, he looks wild. Like an untamed beast— reminds you of the wolf that lingers by your doorstep— that you’ve lugged along into your kitchen. Let him splay you across the big, oak table that squeals and rattles under the punishing pace he’s set with his hips. 

“Fuck— no,” Harry grunts, and slams your wrist down onto the table, beside your head, your stuttering pulse. Cuffed in his grip. Your fingers twitch. His throat bobs when he swallows.

The tip of his tongue flicks out, drags across his lips, and you think of a scenting serpent. He huffs.

“Ought to declaw you,” he muses, hunching over you, narrowed eyes oscillating from your nails to your face. Voice a husk that oozes condescension. As if you’re an animal— a feral cat that needs its talons extracted. 

“Fuck you,” you spit, and the words— the petulant tone, the way your chest rattles when his cock throbs inside of you— are enough to crook the corners of his pink mouth. Wry. Acid across his lips, in the ridges between his teeth. 

He sticks his thumb in your mouth, but not really; presses in against the flat of your front tooth when you bare your canines, squeezing at your cheeks. Pressure points— under the side of your mandible, beneath your cheekbone.

“Better watch that mouth,” he taunts. When his eyebrows climb, three ruckles seep across his forehead. Maybe evidence of how he means it, how firm his resolve is, but the way he tips his head down at you, it's goading—

Your chest rolls. “Fuck— you.”

And you get it. You do. Coexisting is an absurd, incompatible fantasy. Deluded, when you cup your teeth around the world and still feel hungry. It only stretches so wide before he’s under your teeth, too, and nobody wants to live in a hungry, sharp mouth. It’s a means of resource. Sanctum; I want sanctum, and you my friend, are preventing that like gum jammed into a lock on a gate. 

This slow dance is called perfect, incongruous symbiosis, like a winter coat and the hot sun. You don’t fit together. You’ll never work— not in tandem. 

It’s just that he doesn’t get that it’s the circle of life.

A snake and a mouse. That works. It’s unpleasant, but it doesn’t have to be watched. 

But it’s ugly. You get the angry men with the pitchforks. You get him— vigilante, here to stab the head off the python with a wooden stick and wring his hands out after, like the hero he’ll be if he manages to tame the beast (glorified pest control— snub the snake in the backyard). You accepted a long time ago that all the little people would get mad that you were eating their little people. 

Nasty, vicious thing in the back garden— get rid of it.  

But hey— that’s life. The ugly, vicious wasp nest dangling off a poplar tree deserves to exist, too, because that’s the anomalous, hideous shape mother nature’s hand squeezed it into. And that’s, you think, the disconnect. The electrical cord spitting white-hot, fizzing sparks from where it’s been gnawed down the middle.

You swallow. His eyes are blade-sharp. So unco. Contemplating, calculating.

You get all that. What you can’t wrap your mind around is the untethered snap between you, like a bungee cord lugging you into a collision. It makes you feel feverish. The fracture in the foundation below you, every atom bred from this, predestined narrative. The sizzle beneath your skin— a charred brand in the shape of his kiss under the layers of your dermis— (a lowly mimicry of what lovemaking is, all teeth). It’s brutal. Sharp. A skirt of canines across your collarbone. A notch across the bone. A means to satiate, a compound of loathing, and pining, and the cozening haze of desire. The yearning curdled in the spiral of the communal pool of your animosity.   

Because he smells like the rain rapping across your roof when you stand out with the door propped, sticking to the fireweed in rivulets under your porch steps. Like suede. Musk. The wilting coriander sprig on your altar. Your resolve is wicker snapping under his thumb. A melting glacier under the heavy heat dripping from his eyes. You don’t like it. You can’t get enough.

You tip your chin up and his thumb snags on the blunt edges, smushes into your lower lip. When his heavy cock slips out of you and slaps up against his belly, a whine prickles at the back of your mouth. You encase it with your throat like a dirty secret left to write on paper. You won’t whine for him. But he’s thick. His cock is stupidly fat, and it throbs like he can feel the encroaching emptiness between your legs for himself. 

You won’t whine, but you feel hollow, and it makes your hips cant up involuntarily. Forward. To him— you hate that— but the stamp of his palm to your cunt makes your thought process crumble apart like notes plummeting off their bars on a sheet of music. A smack of skin on skin is the aria of your twisted affection stretching and collapsing. 

It doesn’t hurt. Not really. There’s a dull pang that blooms there, under his touch, but it feels smothered under the white-hot lightning streak of shock that jolts your shoulders and sculpts your face. The mortified, blistering heat that spumes your cheeks when the whites of your eyes pool a little wider. You flounder up at him wordlessly. 

Harry hums. It’s haughty, and mocking, and it makes something ripple in your underbelly. “Say that again, little girl?”

You swallow. Squirm. The pseudonym has something bristling in your chest. You’re not a little girl. This thicket has belonged to you for hundreds of years. 

But the warm prickle between your thighs is an ugly, ugly paradox. 

And you hate the way his hand is this humongous thing between your thighs, across your sex, swallowing your smarting cunt in the cup of his palm. The way he leaves it where it landed. His thumb stretched out and lingering in the crease between your mons and your tucked up thigh. You hate the way you drool slick against his fingers, the way your clit pulses under the heel of his hand. Your chest rolls. 

His amusement is acidic. Patronization sloshes off his eyes and burns a hole right through the layer of your mettle when he cocks his head down at you, the way your hips hitch. His lips twist. “Oh you liked that, did you?”

Your face pinches. The corners of your lips curl down despite the way your empty pussy flutters under his skin.

“No."

He makes a sound. A hum that granulates into a rich chuckle, and his eyes flicker off your face, to his hand, and back, and back. Something brews in the depths under his lashes, you think— a sinkhole cratering into the ground beneath the canopy of the woods, driving the forest ground out into a void— watching the breadth of his hand envelop between your thighs. Maybe at the molten heat, or the way he can undeniably feel you clenching up. Throbbing. Against him. For him. 

“Is that right? Look at that, mm— drippy, little pussy,” Harry tells you, voice hardly over a whisper. The words are a livewire zigzagging up your spine, riding the arches of the knobs, spilling something noxious and cloudy along your cerebrospinal fluid. 

It goes straight to your head. 

“Needy, little cunt. Bet you could cum just from me slapping it.”

His middle finger grazes your asshole. Your toes curl, you can’t even argue, despite the vitriol puddling on the back of your tongue like stagnant water. He tips his head. Smiles. The flash of teeth carves an ache into you that makes your bones ring.

“Aren’t you… just the sweetest thing when you’re put in your place,” Harry murmurs down at you, eyebrows climbing, and he’s— unctuous. A headache. The kind that clusters around the arch of your skull and squeezes taut like a bundle of rubber bands. Talking down to you like you’re a wily thing for him to put into a corner, once and for all. Like your demesne isn’t stamped in his soggy footprints, layer after layer, year after year.

You bare your teeth and jut your chin defiantly, but then he drags his thumb down along your pebbled clit, and it makes your shoulders wobble. 

You used to cut hunters down like the loggers muscling in on your timber. Hatred was a pearl folded into your heart. A bead tucked into the soft, fleshy tissue between the little pockets of your ventricles, and it stung like a splinter in your gums. 

You wear it in your chest like his name shaved into a rib. The perfect harmony of dysfunction. You don’t know why being under him kindles a flame. Just that it does. He’s live coal, and you crackle over what he gives you.

The moment of reticence between you has that shattering weight of your little truce, and you’re reminded of the plunge from the hillscape of your dignity. 

Maybe it’s worse that you don’t mind. 

His shoulders swell. You like the spit-slick rim of his mouth, the way the color is an insignia of your teeth making landfall. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

When he plants his hand beside your ear and stretches forward a little more, his cockhead slips across your clit. Hot, like a firebrand coated in sateen. You curl your fingers and realize your wrist is still pinned down. His eyes sway to it like he knows what you’re thinking, and his mouth twitches.

“Gonna keep your hands to yourself?” Harry purrs, grunting when you roll your chin away in scorn. 

“Because—“ His finger prods onto your cheek. Then, two. Under your jaw, enough pressure to turn your head. “You know I love that wild shit. But, can’t have you fucking up my pretty face—“

The humor coagulating his tone tastes bitter when you breathe it from the air. Swallowing it down into your lungs where it ghosts with the subatomic heaviness of want. Your eyes flit. You hate him— you hate—

He grins down at you. Not quite. Close-lipped, eyes vats that shelter his dogma. The intensity of his seriousness. “Can’t do that,” he muses, but his tone is softer than his countenance. 

You look away. And you don’t watch it, but he huffs, like he’s losing patience for your still-not-quite-subservience and lack of zeal. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. Hums. 

“Mm. Come on, doll. You know I don’t want you if you don’t want me,” he tells you, but his mouth crooks because he knows— he knows. 

You blink up at him. His eyes burn down at you from the bridge of his nose, and it feels like you’ve been swaddled into a sudden, wet heatwave. The words would nearly be considerate if it wasn’t for the condescending undertow that spills under the vowels like an oil slick. 

His pointer traces the corner of your mouth, brows furrowing as he tails the motion with his gaze. “Just you say the word.”

And despite the way you blister, something itching under your skin, you won’t. Your teeth are clenched, but you couldn’t pry them apart with pliers to turn him down, not with the fever spilling its way across you. You settle for contempt— let it set your face like a cast congealing, but he doesn’t chase the tail of your indignation with anything beyond mockery. 

He stares back at you. Doesn’t let it wither, drowns in the deluge of your inkpools, mouth curling but-not-quite. 

“No,” he sighs, after a beat of your lull— bereft of your protest— drawing his forefinger away and slinking it down the naked space of your sternum, then around your swollen nipple. You gnaw into your cheek. “You know what I think?”

“—I don’t care,” you pick your head up to hiss. 

You expect to face something crumbling at the retort. Discipline. Retribution— to watch something clot inside of him the way it wads in your chest, caking gravity across his features because— need to be taught a lesson in respect. What did I say about watching that mouth? 

But it flickers over him without a hitch. Slides off. 

Instead, he doubles down, hunching back over you. “I think you love this cock too much. Don’t you? Got you wrapped around it, by now.”

The flame from your core licks up to flare at the apples of your cheeks. He breathes when he straightens out. Deep. Like the prelude to a sigh, and you wonder if the same burning kisses along the nooks of his lungs. You don’t say anything, and he pulls his hand back.

“That’s right,” Harry coos, cocking his head down at you, “Just a sweet, cockdrunk, little whore, by now.”

Your eyes narrow into thin slits. Dagger splits. The wobble in your voice is a swordblade. “Shut— up.”

He laughs. Laughs. This muted, soundless thing that manifests more in his shoulders, the jolt across their breadth. The crater beside a smile line. He shakes his head, and cups the root of his cock with his fist. Your eyes follow it. You swallow.

“Mm, no,” he muses, gaze pooling where the mushroomed ridges of his tip slide along your sopping rim, your puffy lips, your clit, “I think you like it. Gushing all over the table.”

Embarrassment ties its tendrils along the base of your throat. Cogon grass germinating and feathering out across your esophagus, until you’re choking on your spit. You grit your teeth. Your hips nudge up. Forward. He underscores the presumption by pulling the head of his cock back, and sundering the string of tacky slick that’d stretched between him and your seam.

“Makin’ a fucking mess with your messy, desperate pussy,” Harry tells you, pressing his index to his thumb and prying them apart for emphasis. Your slick shimmers in the light. “Look at you. There’s a fuckin’ puddle.”

Your face creases. Cheeks buzzing, white-hot. You feel yourself leaking down along the cleft of your ass, and your fingers itch. A thunderbolt streaks across when you recognize that your hand is still flat against the table. Just where he left it. 

He aims his cock back against you, so thick in his palm, and murmurs, “You want it?”

You don’t know how you ended up here.

You do, but the motions between point A and B feel like a nebulous smear. Hands in motion. Fabric tangling across the floor. Teeth, and tongues, and bones, and claws.

(“Always liked an older woman,” you remember he told you, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. The hubris of a boy sewn into the shoulders of a man. The irony of your preternatural youth folded into his proposition as his eyes roamed across your face.)

(“So let’s put …this,” a motion between with a jutted finger, a murmur drizzled in allure, tucked like a secret into the shape of the night, “aside for a time-out, you and me.”)

You don’t know why you said yes. How. Why your body reacts like he’s a breath you need, whispering along your lungs. Why you let him unspool you over his fingers, his tongue, fucking into you like he was starving. 

But you nod.

You nod, and he presses his weepy tip against your cunt, and it only takes a nudge for him to pry you open around him again. Enveloping him. Sloppy, little pussy pulsing over the tip like a frenetic heartbeat. 

You turn your chin and bite into your own shoulder to stifle the mewl spiraling between your tonsils, and he groans. The sting is better the second-go, but the pressure of having your rim stretched taut anew doesn’t lose its edge. The ache settles in your underbelly. Flourishes in the molten geyser of your arousal. 

“Oh, shit,” Harry hums, pasting his palm flat to your tummy, right over your navel. Like this, you can feel his fingertips under your heartbeat. Across it. Thrumming. His eyes glued to where you swallow up his cock.

He feeds his cock into you slow, but it feels incongruous. The pastiche of what you’re feeling is already enough to cloud your head into delirium— you want teeth. Tongues, bones, claws. 

“Harder,” you grit, catching his eye when he stalls, hand braced across your waist. You resolve paints your words firm, “I can take it.” 

For a moment, Harry stares down at you. The whiplash of pause morphing to taunt, like a seamless rebound, has your rim fluttering over his girth. “My, my. Aren’t we eager.”

“Just—“

Your cosm ripples around you when he drives his hips forward, and lugs you back, hips colliding with your skin in a smack. A horrible, wet sound when he crams his way in, wedging your fuss back into the depth of your stomach. It flings you off your rationale. 

He shivers. “God, you’re slutty. Slutty pussy on a slutty witch.”

The pace he sets is brutal. Merciless. It caters to your complaint, and squashes it out under his thumb. Under the kiss of his tip to your womb. Deliriously, you think he’s going to spill his hot, thick load inside of you, and then what? Then, what?

It feels like he’s wringing you out between his hands, until all that’s left is a pool of want. 

You hate the way he’s chiseled in a place for himself. A tern across your branches, nested in twine and spare filaments of organs that belong to you. A little sinew peeled off of your liver. A sliver off your lung. Maybe that’s why—

You suck in a tight breath and let it rattle the nest he’s built, when he hits something unfathomably deep inside of you. Plugged on his cock, there’s no way for you to smother your moans out. He batters in to the hilt, cupping you by the waist, and rocking you back onto him, over, and over, and over. 

“I want this sweet pussy to cum around my cock,” he pants over you. A curl has flopped across his eye, and your ire is eclipsed by your yearning. The ball inside of you unspooling as if he’s peeling the layers of muscle on your heart back like an onion to temporarily pluck out the undiluted loathing. “Do you hear me?”

It’s a mindless motion— your fingers creeping to land over where you connect, where he’s splitting your gummy walls to what feels like their ceiling. But he bats your hands away, and rams into you until your mons is kissing the wiry bed of hair that’s smattered over his shaft.

“It’s gonna cum around my cock,” he grunts, “or it’s not gonna cum at all.”

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[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season

Azriel x Reader

An angsty little one shot. Azriel’s mate is tired of being at the bottom of his list of priorities.

Update: Due to popular demand, this is being made into a series!

Part 2

The air’s getting heavy and we both know why

There was a time when an evening like this brought solace to my weary soul.

Azriel’s hand wrapped around my waist, caressing my stomach, pressing soft kisses to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hair tickling against my sensitive skin as we hid under blankets absorbing the incessant melody of drip, drop, drip, drop and the echoing pitter patter of rain drops hitting the roof. His warmth seeping right through to the coldest depths of my soul.

I’d turn around, pressing my bare breasts against his muscled chest. Our breath hitching as his sunburst eyes of brown, amber, and gold bore into mine, his soft lips whispering promises of forever.

Say that this storm is just passing through

But Azriel wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for 6 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes now. It would have been laughable, comparing the past to now, if it weren’t so damned sad. In the beginning there’d been long, doting love notes with risqué quips regarding his intentions upon coming home, little gifts that he couldn’t resist bringing back from his travels, and the stolen hours where he’d sneak in a visit during the intermittent downtime on his missions. As a realist, I knew that it was not sustainable long-term but relished in it as the gift it was. Newly formed, passionate love that exceeded anything I had ever imagined upon finding my cauldron-blessed mate.

As the years went on I understood when the love notes became briefs and the thoughtful gifts became pecks on the cheek as he hurried through the door to exchange his leathers for clean ones, wipe down his weapons, and rest before his next mission. But time went on, as is inevitable, and distant were the memories of stolen moments away from missions, the desperate caress of his hands roaming my body as if he couldn’t quite believe I was fully corporeal before him - needing to touch me to reassure him that this was real. Now the touches were detached, perfunctory, another task on his never-ending to-do list.

Drop after drop we’re destroying this house and eachother.

The boiling point had been simmering for a while, left on the fire with reassurances of “Things are just busy right now”, “It’ll slow down soon”, “I would stay if I could, love. You know I would. I have no choice.”

But we both knew all too well that there was always a choice. There were times when Rhys let it slip that Azriel had volunteered for missions that his other spies were perfectly suited for, times when all I wanted in the world was to be curled up and listening to the rain with my mate.

Missions became tasks with the Valkyries, “chaperoning” Cassian and Nesta, and emotionally supporting the lovely doe-eyed fawn - Elain - who was the delicate cherry blossom of spring opposite of my wild summertime storm.

It wasn’t her fault. The trauma inflicted upon her, the loss of autonomy that came with being thrown into the cauldron and having her mortality stripped away without her say. The powers she never asked for overwhelming her senses. Hell, maybe it wasn’t Azriel’s fault for responding to the traumas of his past and the need to overcompensate for every ounce of blood he’s drawn by saving anything and everything that needed rescuing.

The problem lay with the fact that where Elain is a “seer”, my ability to “sense” when things are amiss was strong and Azriel’s intentions with her were becoming blurred. Feelings of lust had become more frequent down the bond along with flutters of joy and adoration. When it began I thought maybe things would look up in our relationship - he was missing me, fisting his cock to fantasies of taking me over and over when he returned home - but he only became more distant. He’d return more often than not smelling of jasmine and honey. The strength of the scent coating him correlating with the increase in enamored feelings slipping through the bond.

Six days ago when I’d asked him to skip out on training with Cassian and Nesta and whatever it was he and Elain would do - that was when the thunder clapped and the sky opened. “I can’t just stay home and cater to you all the time. I have duties to this court. Why can’t you find a hobby to occupy your time? Nesta reads and trains with the Valkyries, Feyre paints, Elain gardens and she evens bakes! Why can’t you be more like-“

He caught himself too late, immediately reaching out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder and apologize but it was too late for that.

Please, make it stop

It wasn’t that I wasn’t a forgiving or understanding person. i appreciated his dedication to his court and family and those in need but…

“Why can’t I be more like what? You can stop mid-sentence but you already said it all.” I looked down, shaking my head as silver lined my eyes. Gods, I hate that I’m an angry crier. “You want to know why I can’t be more like Elain in your eyes, Azriel? Because I exist in your fucking blind spot! I have been helping Feyre AT the studio, volunteering at a food pantry in Velaris, and teaching self-defense classes to women and children at the park but you wouldn’t know because you never ask me what I’ve been up to while you’re gone.”

He started to speak but I wasn’t finished. “The reason I cannot be more like Elain, or Feyre, or Nesta is because I’m none of them. I am ME. And you know what? I like me. I don’t want to be anybody else.” Trying and failing miserably to hold my head high I pathetically fell to my knees, shuddering as tears of rage flowed freely.

Warmth enveloped me as Azriel knelt down to soothe my quaking form. I let him if only because I didn’t have the composure to tell him otherwise as he began pressing kisses to my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I have been a terrible mate. I love all that you are- I- I’ll stop with Elain. She’s doing much better and Nuala and Cerridwen can keep an eye on her, so can Rhys and Cassian, and her sisters. It will be okay.”

That consolation attempt only drove the blade of bitterness deeper into my heart. Elain had so many in her corner and who did I have anymore? My chronically absent mate? The family I left behind to move to Velaris with Azriel? There was nobody close by.

“I think you should leave.” I sobbed out.

Azriel ignored the shaky command, continuing to hold me. Fuck - is this what it took for him to notice me? Breaking my heart so he could stitch it back up again?

“Azriel.” I stated firmly.

He met my eyes.

“You should leave.”

His look grew puzzled. “I thought you wanted me to stay - to spend time together? Please, Y/N. Let me make this better.”

“I need space. Give me one week.”

“But-“

“One. Week.”

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, head hanging low for several minutes before realizing that my decision was firm.

“I love you.” He said before heading out the door.

——————

Like clockwork as 7 days, 0 hours, and 1 minute were up, the front door to our home opened and Azriel’s footsteps padded in behind me, my gaze remaining fixated on the rain falling outside the window. A lump formed in my throat as I avoided turning to meet his gaze.

So dance one more dance and tell one more lie.

Azriel stepped around me, wordlessly extending a hand, patiently waiting as I avoided his gaze a moment longer before taking it. His shadows began humming faintly, increasing their melody and reaching a crescendo as Azriel began dancing with me through the room.

Say that you love me even if it’s not true

I let myself melt into the warmth of his chest. The thick air remained heavy upon my soul but I could have this. I could let myself enjoy this moment.

We wordlessly danced through the room in the soft glow of the fae lights.

We made our way through the hall into our shared bed that had become so neglected.

“I love you, Y/N.” he murmured as he laid me down, stripped bare underneath him.

“I love you too, Azriel.”

——————

Wish I could just say it and words were enough to keep you from being the one giving up.

The middle of the night left me restless as he lay soundly asleep beside me. My senses tugged me toward his bag that he’d discarded at the entryway. I brought out his dirty clothes from the week only to be greeted with the fresh scent of jasmine and honey.

Like the sky letting go for no reason

I packed my essentials and voyaged out into the pouring rain. Its patter on my skin washing away the salty tears streaming down my face. Following my senses to where the love was true back to my Summer Court home, my family. As free as a summer storm.

It's just the rainy season.

—————————————

A/n - I know there are plenty of Azriel x Reader and Elain fics out there. It was rainy and dreary here yesterday and this song was in my head for the first time in like 10 years so…. I wrote this.

[hopesangelsprite]

Closer

Pairing: Illumi x Wife!reader

Warnings: kissing, suggestive content, light angst

Summary: Your husband isn't really the touchy feely type... but when it comes to you that tends to change often and very quickly.

It wasn't often that your husband had days off. It was even rarer that he spent those days off relaxing rather than training or picking up small, quick missions for extra money (not that he needed it anyway). Today was different, though. Illumi had about a week of downtime before his next mission and, instead of prepping, he was sprawled across your shared bed napping.

You were worried at first, his uncharacteristic behavior causing you to wonder if he was feeling well. After the first few days of observing him and assuring yourself that he wasn't ill, you chalked it up to him finally taking some time to relieve stress. Though you wanted to relax with him, there were still a few tasks you needed to complete beforehand. You sighed inwardly from your desk and continued to work on your computer. What had started as light research quickly turned into hours of sifting through data and you were quickly becoming annoyed.

"Wife.", Illumi called out, his voice heavy with sleep. You froze and listened for any signs he was fully awake. Illumi took your silence as ignoring him and spoke again. "You know I don't like repeating myself.", he grumbled and the sound of sheets rustling met your ears. You turned in your chair to see your husband sitting up on his elbows, eyes half-lidded with sleep and light annoyance. "What is it, love?", you hummed at his tired, disturbed state.

Without another word spoken, he patted the empty side of your bed and motioned for you to come forward. Your brow quirked and a smirk crept onto your lips. "You're not being serious, are you? You usually want nothing to do with me when it's nap time.", you chuckled and his eyes narrowed even more.

"I'm not above coming to get you myself. However, for your sake, I advise you to do as asked.", he spoke lowly while brushing inky strands of hair from his face. A giggle passed your lips as you stood and made your way toward the bed and joined your grumpy husband. After taking a moment to adjust the two of you, Illumi nestled his face against the side of yours and exhaled. "That wasn't so hard, was it? You've been at that damned computer much too long for my liking.", he complained as he pulled a small blanket over the both of you.

You rolled over to face him, placing a kiss between his collarbone and Adam's apple. "Almost sounds like you missed me.", you cooed sweetly to which he huffed through his nose. "So, what if I did? A man's allowed to miss his wife, is he not?", he mused with hands gently drawing patterns onto your lower back. You opted for more silence as you looked over his features, taking mental photos in case his next mission took him away from you longer than usual.

Illumi opened his eyes, lashes fluttering as he looked over you with onyx orbs. "What's wrong?", he questioned softly while pulling you closer. You shrugged and leaned into him, indulging in the cool of his skin. "I miss you a lot when you're gone.", you finally answer, "I wonder whether or not you'll come back to me sometimes…". Illumi remained silent, allowing the weight of your words to fully settle over the room. It was often you felt this way, the long periods of waiting eating away at your resolve. His occasional battered state upon returning only deepened that fear that he'd not come home one day.

"You don't have to worry about that.", Illumi spoke after a little while, "I'll always come back to you… even if it's the last thing I do.". You looked up at him, in awe of the sudden tenderness he possessed. "Promise?", you whispered into the room's atmosphere. He nodded, taking your hand in his and intertwining his fingers with yours. "I promise.", he vowed before pulling you impossibly closer.

You smiled giddily, the tension finally rolling off your shoulders. "Besides,", Illumi spoke as he settled himself in the valley of your breasts, "How could I possibly think of leaving all of this behind?". A gasp and a cackle as you felt him nibble at your chest, his hands squeezing the fat of your ass. "I knew you didn't want me to nap with you!!", you laughed while trying to wriggle out of his hold, "I still have work to do!".

You managed to get a leg and an arm free before Illumi dragged you back into him. "The only thing you should be doing is me.", he muttered while attempting to hold you still. After a while of resisting, you finally let your husband pin you to the bed with a satisfied smirk. "Your research can't make you feel the way I do, can it?", he questioned proudly to which you rolled your eyes. Even though you didn't want to admit it, he was right. You stared up at him, taking in just how pretty he was with bedhead and sleep still lingering in his eyes.

"Fine. You get two rounds before I go back to work.", you offered to which he scoffed with narrowed eyes. "Four rounds.", he countered indignantly. You smirked while tucking a few strands of hair behind his ears. "Three rounds and cuddles. Take it or leave it.", you negotiated before leaning in to kiss him. "Deal.", he hummed between kisses with hands roaming across your body, "I'll give you under-desk support after.".

"What? No-".

[avephelis]

NEED to check these things for fleas. take them to the VET! so sad they can't have deviantart they would have loved deviantart.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Sweet Not Home

Summary: The reader wakes up in bed next to a familiar but oh so strange man...

Pairing: Jensen x hunter!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Hooo boy enjoy this one!

You felt warm when you began to stir awake. There was a heavy blanket on you that was nice, not out of the ordinary for Dean to pile an extra one on the bed while you were sleeping. You rolled over in bed, smashing your face in a bare chest.

“Morning,” Dean mumbled. His voice wasn’t as deep and you wondered if he was coming down with something. You blinked open your eyes, resting your hands on his chest, running them down briefly before you cocked your head.

“Where’s your tattoo?” you asked carefully, putting your hand on his pec, ready to use your nails in the shifter’s flesh as a distraction. But this Dean was chuckling, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

“S’on my shoulder like always, silly,” he said, yawning and sighing softly. “You okay? You’re tense.”

You shifted your head up, noticing the white headboard, eyes darting around to see soft light colored walls, a large balcony door and a window overlooking a grassy backyard and pool.

“What the…” you said, standing and hopping out of bed, glad that you were at least in the t shirt and shorts you remembered falling asleep in. You went over to the door and pulled it open, Dean out of bed and moving to the other side of the room, hitting something on a white thermostat looking thing.

“Honey,” he said, walking over as you stood on the small balcony, leaning over the railing to look at a patio and some trees. “Y/N. Everything alright?”

“Where…” you asked, Dean sighing.

“We’re in Austin,” he said, running his hand gently over your head. You turned to look up at him, spotting him in a pair of navy boxers that he normally wore.

“Austin?” you asked, his arm sporting the tattoo he mentioned before but it wasn’t an anti-possession one.

“Okay,” he said, gently resting his hands on your shoulders and pulling you back into the very nice bedroom, soft carpet under your toes. He sat you on the bed and kneeled down in front of you. “The doctor said this might happen so that’s why he gave us the list of questions, remember?”

You had no idea what the hell was going on but you just shrugged, this guy very kind for a shifter if he was one.

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.

“Y/N,” you said.

“Your full name, sweetie,” he said, still smiling.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, the smile wiping off his face.

“That’s your maiden name,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “S’okay. We’ll keep going. What’s today’s date?”

“Um,” you said, thinking for a moment, Dean cocking his head when you answered.

“That’s right,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “Does your head hurt, honey?”

“My head? Why would my head hurt?” you asked.

“We were in a car accident two days ago. They were concerned you had a concussion. Last night was the first time you were at home. Do you not remember any of this?” he asked.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Dean? You know I love a good joke but now is not the time, Y/N,” said Dean. You swallowed hard, Dean putting a hand on your head. “What’s my name?”

“I…” you said, looking around the room for any kind of clue. Something had happened after your witch hunt obviously. Same name, different person. You were still Y/N where ever you were but a different version, paired up with a different Dean that apparently wasn’t named Dean. You were well off if your yard was anything to go off of so you definitely weren’t hunters. “I’m just tired. Sweetie.”

“Nice try. What’s my name?” he asked again.

“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded, curiously looking up at you. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s alright,” he said, very good at hiding the flash of concern that showed up on his face. “Do you-“

A phone started to ring, Not Dean ignoring it in favor for paying attention to you.

“Do you remember how we met at all?” he asked.

“Working a job,” you said, his face twitching up.

“That’s right,” he said, tilting his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m just...messing with you,” you said, the man pouting. He opened his mouth but a doorbell rang somewhere, the man getting to his feet.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he said, walking over to a closed door, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a shirt from the floor as he went. The second he was out of the door you started to look around, trying to find clues about who he was. You could always make a break for it but in pajamas you didn’t think you’d get far, especially with this guy’s sweet husband thing he had going on.

You walked through an open door to a bathroom, cutting through it to find a closet. You sighed, wishing you’d found something with a name until you jogged back to the nightstand, a wallet on top.

“Yes,” you said, ripping it open and pulling out a Texas license. “Okay. Jensen Ackles. 6’ 1”. Organ donor. Well that’s nice and all but I still know nothing.”

You started to dig through the wallet, mostly credit and reward cards, some cash and a business card with a doctor’s name and number. There was a faded picture of him and a woman that looked exactly like you, the worn edges saying it was probably at least five years old.

You put the wallet back when you heard him coming, sitting back in your spot on the bed, trying to seem relaxed.

“Who was at the door, Jensen?” you asked innocently, Jensen lifting his chin.

“Kid up the street. Girl Scout cookies. I ordered you some thin mints,” he said, padding around to the side of the bed, arms crossed. “Don’t pull shit like that again. It’s not funny. You know how freaked I was after the accident.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, his face briefly looking hard before he started to drag his toes through the carpet.

“I get this feeling you’re lying to me,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I’ve known you forever, kiddo. You have that look on your face.”

It’d be easy to lie and make something up. It’d be easy to fake a concussion too. Telling the truth would probably get you thrown in an institution.

Jensen tilted his head and walked over to you suddenly, grabbing your underwear and pulling the band down an inch.

“Hey!” you barked at him, kneeing him hard, Jensen falling to the floor.

“You don’t have a tattoo,” he said, getting to his feet slowly, pressing his thumb against your hip, wiping over your anti-possession one. “That’s real.”

He backed away from you, looking you up and down.

“You would never hit me like that because you know I don’t touch you like that and…” he said, tilting his head as he stared at your leg. “You don’t have a scar on your thigh. What…”

“Jensen...take a breather for me buddy,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “I can explain.”

“Am I nuts? You’re not my...did I die in that accident? Is this some-“

“Dude! Chill. You’re not dead,” you said, Jensen eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re fine. I’m the one that’s…”

“Not my wife?” he said, closing his eyes. “This is one of those freaky weird dreams that seems super real. That’s what it is. You definitely aren’t-“

“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said. “Hate to break it to you.”

“I was going to say, Reese,” he said. “You know, the character you play on a tv show. Now would be a great time to tell me this is a very in-depth prank.”

“Me? On TV? I have done some crazy stuff but that…” you said, Jensen nodding his head at you. “You’re freaking out.”

“Just a little,” he said. You hummed.

“I guess I have to give you the civilian talk,” you said.

“The what?” he asked.

“Just take a seat, Jensen.”

_________

[moonsofmachinery]

re: requests/asks i've had an itch for hunter & some slugpuppies... i think they would be torn between protecting these little creatures that haven't seen the horrors of the world yet and needing to preserve their innocence versus knowing that they absolutely have a mission they need to complete and that their time with the pups is going to be short anyways

i made people cry with this one but its really sweet when you think about it i promise <3

[kaminokatie]

Omega Calls You Mum || The Bad Batch

Synopsis - The Batch react to Omega calling you mum.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Season 3 spoilers, kinda, for Crosshair's part.

Word Count - 8.1k.

{Caffeinate Me}

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hunter: 

“Mum, can Wrecker and I go for some mantel mix?” Omega asked you. Your eyes widened at her question and your mouth opened immediately to answer, but Hunter was quick to answer for you. 

“Just don’t leave Wrecker’s sight.” Omega hadn’t even thought twice about her slip-up and instead, turned on her heels to go and tell Wrecker that they had been given permission to head out. Once she had left the room Hunter looked at you with dark eyes, wild with desire. When he spoke, his voice was a low growl. “Did you tell her to call you that?” 

“What? Mum?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows while shaking your head rapidly.  

“Are you sure?” Hunter asked, his voice dangerously low as he moved closer to you. 

Your eyes were wide, your head still shaking rapidly. You thought that Hunter was mad, but he was far from it. “I’m positive,” you tried to defend yourself. Hunter stood up, his fingers flexing as he grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the cockpit. “Hunter!”

“Get in there,” he growled, pushing you into the small, cramped room filled with bunks. Hunter didn’t even give you a second to ask what he was doing before he locked the door behind him and shrugged off his armour, letting it hit the floor with a clank until he was dressed just in his blacks. Your eyes widened as you saw his erect cock straining against the black material of his undersuit, your mouth drooling at the pre-cum stain that had leaked through his boxers. “Is this what you wanted?” Hunter hummed. 

“I didn’t mean for her to call me mum, I swear!” You exclaimed. And yet despite the fear of the unknown, of what Hunter was going to do to you, you couldn’t help but feel extremely aroused. The heat pooling between your legs was enough to make you feel dizzy, and you staggered towards Hunter. Throwing your arms around his neck, you kissed him fiercely as your right hand moved down his body to rest on the front of his throbbing cock. You could feel it, warm and twitching through his undersuit. 

“Get these kriffing blacks off of me,” Hunter cursed under his breath as his hands desperately undid the undersuit, ripping it off his toned body and leaving him completely bare to you. Hunter pumped his cock a few times as he stared at you, his eyes saying everything he was thinking. You let out a whimper of desire as you began to undress quickly, letting Hunter’s eyes scan every inch of your body as you exposed yourself. “So perfect,” he whispered breathlessly. You shook your head at him, but Hunter was quick to grasp your hips and pull you into a bruising kiss. His hands roamed over your body, groping at your breasts greedily as his tongue slipped into your mouth. “You want me to make you a real mummy so badly, huh?” Hunter growled out against your lips. 

“Kriff yes,” you whimpered softly, nodding your head. 

Hunter turned you around so you were facing the wall, his hands falling down to your hips. “Hands on the wall beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You did as Hunter commanded, putting the palms of your hands onto the wall in front of you. “Good girl.” His praises sent another shiver down your spine and just as you were about to speak up, to voice your embarrassment, Hunter slammed his cock into your tight hole. A wanton moan left your lips at the sensation, no matter how many times you and Hunter had sex, the initial stretch never got easier for you to take. 

“Hunter!” You squealed out. “I need a minute,” you begged. 

“No,” he snapped as his hips thrashed against yours. You were already a whimpering mess underneath him and he had barely even touched you, his cock had barely even impaled you. Hunter didn’t give you any time to adjust, instead he continued to fuck into you mercilessly, his mind filled with thoughts of you being a mother to his child. The thought alone almost made him cum immediately, but he slowed his hips down momentarily to give him time to think. “Cyar’ika you’re so warm and tight around me,” Hunter groaned as he sped up his pace once again. 

You let out a choked cry as the palms of your hand slipped down the wall slightly, your back bending over. Hunter revelled in this new position, his cock hitting deeper inside of your cunt with each and every thrust. He couldn’t get enough of you, of feeling you like this. It drove him mad with desire. You couldn’t stop the moans that were threatening to fall from your lips, and you didn’t seem to care that Echo, Tech and Crosshair were still on the Marauder. Hunter's hands gripped your waist tightly, so hard that his touch was almost bruising on the tender flesh of your hips. Sounds of skin-slapping-skin filled the cramped room and you were certain the noise would be heard from the cockpit. “Hunter I’m going to cum!” You cried out softly, your head spinning from the intense pleasure that was welling in your gut. 

“Cum for me cyar’ika,” he whispered, the pet name falling from his lips effortlessly. It didn’t take much convincing for the coil in your stomach to snap. At Hunter’s words, your entire being crumbled, the coil in your stomach finally snapping until all you saw was searing hot, white pleasure behind your eyes. Your legs shook violently and Hunter had to move a hand from your hip to wrap around your waist to keep you upright. “I’m going to cum now, so kriffing much. It’ll be leaking out of you for days.” You couldn’t comprehend what Hunter was babbling about, you were too cockdrunk to fully think. You were a whining mess as Hunter held you upright, pounding into you effortlessly with as much force as he could muster. His cock twitched inside of you as he came, rope after rope of hot sperm pouring into your abused cunt until you physically couldn’t take anymore. “You’re so beautiful,” Hunter mumbled into your ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Hunter,” you whispered back as he pulled out of you, a soft noise leaving your lips at the loss of fullness in your pussy. You let yourself come down from your high before you clothed yourself once again. 

After a few moments of silence, Hunter spoke up from his position on his bunk: now laying down with one hand behind his head. “If you’re Omega’s mum, does that make me her dad?” He asked teasingly. 

“You’re her brother Hunter,” you chuckled as you lay down next to him. 

“Well, hopefully I’ll be a dad soon,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead and placing a hand on your stomach lovingly. Something inside of him had awoken at Omega calling you ‘mum’ and he had no idea what it was, but he never wanted it to go away.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Crosshair:

Life on Pabu was different from anything Crosshair could have ever imagined. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be living on an island, leaving the life of a soldier behind him and settling down. It had been a year since Crosshair had shot Hemlock on Tantiss, a year since Omega was saved from that hellhole and a whole year since you and Crosshair had fallen into each other's arms. Now, you shared a quaint little house with Crosshair on the shores of Pabu, a place where the two of you could relax and just be together in your early retirement. 

The morning sunlight broke through the curtains stirring both you and Crosshair awake. The birds chirping outside the open window made the gruff sniper groan quietly as you sat up, stretching. Omega had stayed at your home overnight and would probably be awake any minute now, if she wasn’t already. You had to prepare breakfast. You pulled on your nightdress and opened the bedroom door. “Where are you going?” Crosshair grumbled, his eyes still closed. 

“To make breakfast. Do you want any?” You asked quietly. 

“Mmm,” Crosshair mumbled as he thought. “Just some caf, I’ll be down in a minute.”

You nodded your head silently and turned to leave. You crept your way down the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen, in an attempt not to wake up Omega. You immediately opened the cupboards to see what you could make for breakfast. As your eyes scanned the ingredients and food tins you decided to make one thing that Omega loved: pancakes. You grabbed the needed ingredients out of the cupboard and began making them. Just as you were about to start making breakfast you heard Crosshair stumbling around in your shared  bedroom and you let out an exasperated sigh. There was no doubt in your mind that with all his faffing, he would have woken Omega. You had half expected her to run down the stairs immediately after waking up, but much to your surprise she didn’t. Instead, she came plodding down with Crosshair, the two of them rubbing sleep from their eyes and yawning in sync. “Pancakes for breakfast!” You chimed as you finished plating up Omega’s pancakes. 

“Thanks mum,” she mumbled, licking her lips as you set the plate down in front of her at the dining room table. Due to her exhaustion, she hadn’t even noticed her mistake of calling you ‘mum’ – however, it didn’t go unnoticed by Crosshair or yourself. You decided not to say anything, knowing it was just a simple mistake or slip of the tongue, but Crosshair glanced at you as he sat down next to her. His heart fluttered at the domestics of it all.

When Omega was finished eating her pancakes and Crosshair was finished drinking his caf, the two of them went off to do some meditating on the beach, leaving you to do general maintenance around the house. After roughly two hours, Crosshair came striding into the house and when you noticed Omega wasn’t with him you frowned. “Don’t tell me you were playing hide and seek and lost her again?” 

Crosshair snorted and shook his head. “Hunter came to collect her from the beach.” 

“How is he doing?” You asked as you finished placing the last pile of dirty laundry into the washing machine. 

“Good,” Crosshair said, sitting down at the dining room table. He was quiet for a few minutes, simply watching you doing the most mundane tasks while looking so effortless when he finally spoke up. “This morning when Omega called you mum… How did that make you feel?” 

You stopped in your tracks, thinking to yourself. How did it make you feel? You paused for a moment before speaking again, “it made me feel… warm and tingly inside.” 

“Warm and tingly, huh?” Crosshair asked, a sly smirk on his face. He wasted no time in wrapping his arm around you and resting his prosthetic hand on your hip before planting wet kisses on your neck.

You let out a soft moan and nodded your head before tilting it to the side, giving Crosshair better access to the skin on your neck. “Yeah. Warm and tingly,” you repeated softly. “I never knew she thought of me as a mother-figure.” 

“Well the kid can be surprising,” Crosshair mumbled against your neck before biting down softly on the flesh and sucking softly enough to leave a red mark. 

“Has she ever said anything to you?” You ask, biting down on your bottom lip to suppress the moans threatening to spill. Crosshair shook his head in response, sucking on your neck again. Both his hand and his prosthetic flew under your shirt and to your chest, squeezing your breasts roughly. He didn’t know why, but the thought of Omega calling you her mum flipped a switch in him, releasing something primal inside that he never realised was there until the word left the little clone's mouth that morning. A soft gasp left your lips as Crosshair began to play with your puckering nipples, tugging at them earnestly. “Cross,” you mumbled softly under your breath. 

“Yes mesh’la?” Crosshair asked, pulling away from his assault on your neck to look at you properly. 

“Don’t tease me,” you begged silently. 

Crosshair smirked at your words and slipped his hands from under your shirt, grabbing at your hand and leading you up the narrow staircase to your shared bedroom. You had already made-up the bed with a fresh set of linen after stripping it to put your other sheets in the washing machine and set up your aroma diffuser on your bedside table to freshen up the place. It’s a shame the sheets were about to become dirty again and for the room to smell like sex – but you didn’t care. Instead you giddily followed Crosshair into your bedroom and closed the door behind you with your foot. Reading your lover's mind, you both began to strip off within record time and soon you were wrapped in each other's embrace on the fresh bed sheets. Crosshair was behind you, spooning you as he spat on his hand and pumped himself, lubing up his cock before he positioned himself against your tight cunt. “Mesh’la, please–”

“Don’t ask, Crosshair,” you whimpered softly. A loud moan left your lips as he slowly pushed into you inch by inch, a moan of his own escaping his lips. 

“Cyar’ika, you feel so good,” Crosshair huffs out, his hips slowly moving against yours. You loved it when he called you petname’s in Mando’a, it always set your heart ablaze. You let out a strangled moan at his words and moved your hips against his in the same rhythm, desperate to feel more of him. “Cyare,” he gasped out as your hips bucked against his own.

“Gods, Crosshair!” You exclaimed, already feeling your orgasm fast approaching. It was shameful, really, just how quickly Crosshair could make you come undone. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body even closer to his as his movements sped up. Crosshair couldn’t help but pound into you at a rougher pace, his cock twitching inside of you, 

“Not going to last,” Crosshair grumbled against your throat, pressing soft kisses on your skin. “Cum for me baby, please.” 

“Crosshair I’m cumming!” You call out, your body shaking with anticipation as your orgasm washed over you. 

“Good,” Crosshair purred as his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing delicately. Your airways were cut off slightly, and a gasp left your throat. Your pussy tightened around Crosshair’s cock, milking him dry. With a few more stutters of his hips, Crosshair was cuming shamelessly inside of you, a loud moan of your name leaving his lips. “Kriff, kandosiil’a.”

“Huh?” You asked, tilting your head at the unknown word. 

“Amazing,” Crosshair explained.

“It was,” you chuckled softly. 

Crosshair remained inside of you, his cock softening by the second. “Do you feel warm and tingly inside now?” He asked, chuckling softly. 

“You could say that,” you replied with a smirk. “I certainly feel full.” 

Crosshair chuckled again at your statement, a sense of pride filling every fibre of his being. “I would certainly hope so.” 

“What got you so worked up anyway?” You asked Crosshair.

Sheepishly, he responded. “Omega, calling you mum this morning.” Your eyes widened at Crosshair's response and you felt that warm, tingly sensation return in the pit of your stomach. 

“Really?” 

Crosshair just nodded, his cock still sheathed inside of you. “Really.” 

“If you’re going to fuck me like that every time Omega accidentally calls me mum, I might just get her to do it on purpose from now on,” you grinned cheekily, raising your eyebrow at him. Crosshair just scoffed and shook his head in faux disbelief. 

“Be my riduur,” Crosshair whispered after a few minutes of silence. You looked at him over your shoulder, his arms still wrapped around your waist. When you didn’t respond, Crosshair spoke again. “Be my wife… Please.”

You quickly turned over, his cock slipping out from between your tight heat as you moved. “Do you mean that, Cross?” 

“More than I’ve meant anything.”

“Then yes, I’ll be your riduur.” 

You had no idea that Omega calling you mum would lead to a proposal, and when Crosshair was able to go out and buy you a ring to symbolise his love for you, he would – but for now, he just had to believe you when you said yes.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Wrecker:

Wrecker watched from close by as you and Omega played ‘Dekarik’ on the holotable located in Cid’s parlour. He drank the ale from his cup, smiling to himself as you sighed frustratedly and furrowed your eyebrows at the holotable in front of you. In a few moves, Omega had once again won leaving you feeling jokingly bitter. “How do you do it?” You groaned, rubbing your forehead. 

“It’s a strategy game!” Omega replied. “I’m good at strategy. Besides, it’s easy when you put your mind to it.” Wrecker felt his heart swell at the interaction. He loved how close you had become with Omega since she had joined the squad a few months back. It was almost as if you had taken her under your wing, being the mother she so desperately needed. Wrecker felt his heart stop at the thought of you being her mother, the idea never crossed his mind before but now he couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. Apparently, Omega was thinking the same thing as she blurted out, “I can teach you how to play properly, mum.”  

You froze in your seat the second the word ‘mum’ left Omega’s lips, and so did she. She was about to apologise when you put a hand up to silence her, a small smile on your mouth. “Don’t worry. Slip of the tongue.” Omega looked sheepishly at you before slinking off her seat and making her way over to Hunter on the opposite side of the parlour, no doubt to talk about her embarrassment. Wrecker hung back for a few minutes, studying your reaction as you watched the young clone walk away to her brother. He took a few deep breaths before walking over to you, sitting opposite from you on the holotable. “Hey,” you mumbled to Wrecker, avoiding his eye contact. 

“Hey,” he replied, a smile on his face. “You okay?” 

You nodded your head and bit your bottom lip. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” 

“I’m good,” Wrecker bites the inside of his cheek as he stares at you.

“What’re you looking at?” You mumble softly, finally meeting his gaze. 

“Omega called you mum,” Wrecker smirked. 

“She did,” you nod your head. “But she didn’t mean it.” 

“But what if she did?” Wrecker asks you, his eyebrow raising. “What if she sees you as a mum?”

“So what if she does?” You asked. You didn’t mind if Omega saw you as her mother, if anything you found it to be quite endearing. “It wouldn’t matter. I’m not her mother anyway.”

“I know that,” Wrecker exclaimed, rolling his eyes with a goofy grin on his face. “I’m just saying, it’d be quite cute. Don’t you think so?” Wrecker was seemingly in thought after he spoke, gazing off into the distance as he watched Omega and Hunter talk. Suddenly, he stood up and held his hand out for you to take. 

“Where are we going?” You took his hand willingly, cocking an eyebrow as he led you past his brothers and into the back room. Wrecker didn’t answer you, just pulled you into the room and closed the door behind you before turning back to you. “What is it?” You trailed your eyes down Wrecker’s large form until they stopped on his crotch – painfully hard and throbbing. Your eyes widened and your lips parted, clearly confused. 

“The thought of the kid calling you mum,” Wrecker mumbled as he took a step towards you. His hands trembled as they reached out to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Did something to me.” 

You bit your bottom lip as Wrecker pressed himself against you, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “What do you need, Wrecker?” You asked softly. 

“You know what I need mesh’la.” A strangled sound leaves Wrecker’s lips as you slowly sink onto your knees before him. Immediately Wrecker began to remove his armour until he was just in his blacks, whimpering before you had even touched him at the way you were kneeling and looking up at him with wide doe eyes. As soon as his armour hit the floor you were pawing at his blacks, desperate to free his cock and feel it on your tongue. “Mesh’la,” Wrecker groaned the second his cock sprang free, bouncing up and down in front of your face. You were practically salivating at the sight. Without a second thought about who could walk in at any minute, you wrapped your lips around his cock earning a hiss from the clone towering above you. His hands instinctively made their way to your hair, gripping desperately as he pushed your face further into his crotch, forcing his cock further down your throat. You tried not to gag, you really did, but he was so large you couldn’t help it. Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to pull away for air, however Wrecker kept your mouth seated firmly around his throbbing cock. You whined quietly around him, sending vibrations up Wrecker’s body and a moan to fall from his lips. With a slack jaw, Wrecker finally released your hair and you were able to pull away for air, gasping softly. “Sorry,” he said, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” you smiled sweetly, standing up and ridding yourself of your trousers. Wrecker’s eyes widened at the sight, his heart beating frantically in his chest. You bent over Cid’s makeshift bed, spreading your legs enough for Wrecker to see your tight cunt quivering around nothing. You were so desperate for him. “Wreck, please.” 

“I’m coming,” he groaned, positioning himself between your legs. In one thrust, he fully sheathed himself into you, a growl bubbling up in his throat. He immediately began moving, his hips snapping against yours with ease. Your wet cunt easily gripped his cock like a vice as he moved. “Oh Gods,” he whimpered pathetically, his hands moving to your hips to bounce you on his cock as he moved. “You’re so tight.”

“Wrecker!” You gasped quietly, your eyes widening as Wrecker continued to move. 

“What is it mesh’la?” Wrecker asked, biting his bottom. 

“Gonna cum–” 

“Cum for me sweet girl,” he whispered, the grip on your hips almost bruising. At his words you felt your orgasm wash over you and if it wasn’t for Wrecker wrapping an arm around your front, you would have toppled over at the sheer force. You squirted onto the floor, burying your face in Cid’s covers in an attempt to hide your shameless moans. At the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, Wrecker let out a loud moan of your name, his hips slamming into you ruthlessly. 

“Kriff – I’m cumming,” he growled animalistically, it almost scared you. With one final, hard thrust into your sopping cunt Wrecker spilled himself deep into you. 

Wrecker collapsed on top of you panting heavily, squashing your body uncomfortably between him and the edge of Cid’s bed. “Wrecker,” you squeaked out, catching the large clones’ attention. 

“Sorry,” he gasped, clearly out of breath. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” you chuckled finally as Wrecker rolled off of you and fell onto the floor. “That really got to you, hm?” You asked after a few seconds, watching as Wrecker caught his breath and began to dress himself. 

“I suppose it did,” he said sheepishly. 

You shook your head and laughed. “Don’t worry big guy. There’s plenty more where that came from,” you winked his way and pulled up your trousers before walking out of the room and back into the parlour. The only person there was Cid, who was eyeing you cautiously. 

“The other’s didn’t want tiny to hear your escapade so they took her out,” Cid said, rolling her eyes. “In my bed, really?” She hissed after a few moments, disbelief and disgust laced her voice. 

“It was over your bed, not in your bed,” you corrected. 

“That makes it much better,” Cid said sarcastically. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth and say something else, Wrecker walked out, eyeing the parlour. “Where is everyone?”

“Out,” Cid snapped. 

“They didn’t want Omega to hear us having sex so they took her out somewhere,” you explained to Wrecker before turning to Cid. “Any idea when they’ll be back?” 

“Nope.” 

Wrecker piped up with a cheeky grin, “round two?” which only caused you to roll your eyes and shake your head playfully. 

“You’ll be the death of me, Wrecker.”

“At least you’ll die satisfied,” he replied enthusiastically, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into Cid’s back room. Hopefully by the time you were finished with the second round the others would be back and you could hop on a mission, but until then, you were going to enjoy every time that you had alone with Wrecker.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Echo:

“Omega, Y/N, Echo,” Hunter spoke softly, turning to the three of you. “You stay with the ship. We won’t be long.” You nodded your head in acknowledgement and sat in the pilot's chair, patiently waiting for the others to leave for their scouting mission. 

After roughly an hour of no communication with the others, Omega began to worry. She was pacing up and down the cockpit desperately, fiddling with her fingers. “What if they don’t come back?” She asked, her eyes wide.

“They will come back, Omega,” Echo sighed, running his hand down the side of his face. He understood her concern, but wished she didn’t worry as much as she did. 

“Mum, what if they don’t come back?” Omega asked, turning to you. Her eyes were wide with tears and she was obviously too caught up in her own worry to even think about the fact that she had called you mum. 

You blinked at her repeatedly, not sure whether to mention it. Eventually you decided not to, and instead just humour her. “They will come back, Omega, just like Echo said,” you smiled at her softly. 

Low and behold, they did come back, eventually anyway and with extra supplies too. “I thought this was supposed to be a scouting mission?” Echo asked, tilting his head to the side as Wrecker brought the supplies on board the ship.

“It was until Wrecker got hungry,” Hunter scoffed. “Then it turned into a supply run.” 

“Tch, typical,” Echo sighed, shaking his head. Although, he couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased about the extra rations. Tech set off the ship, setting a course back for Ord Mantell while the rest settled into some of the new rations. Echo was staring at you from across the room, his astute ears having heard the way Omega had accidentally called you ‘mum’ earlier on. He couldn’t deny that the words had sent his mind reeling. He had bitten his tongue from mentioning anything but now the two of you were alone, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “So… Mum, eh?” 

“Huh?” You asked, looking up at Echo. He was already walking slowly across to your position, his arm and scomp wrapped around his chest. 

“Omega… Calling you mum,” He said softly, sitting down opposite you. You and Echo had been dancing around your feelings for one another for the longest time, but the fact Omega had called you her mum had stirred something up inside of Echo. “It was sweet.”

“It was, wasn’t it,” you smile up at Echo as he stands in front of you. 

“It was,” he mumbles, looking off to the side. “Look, Y/N…”

Echo trails off and this confused you. “What is it?” You ask tilting your head to the side. 

“I can’t deny it anymore. I–I’m in love with you. Irrevocably, completely in love with you.” 

Your eyes widened at his admission of love for you, completely taken back. “What?” You asked, your eyebrows raised. 

“You heard me Y/N. I’m in love with you. And I can’t hold it back anymore.” He held his hand out for you to take. You didn’t even hesitate to take it before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I never thought I’d hear you say those words to me,” you mumbled against his chest. “Never in a million years did I think you would love me.”

Echo pulled back from you just enough to look down on you. “What do you mean?” He asked, his voice low. 

“I just meant – like, look at me,” you pull away and motion down to your body. “I’m nothing special.”

“You are very special, Y/N, especially to me,” he cupped your face in his hands and smiled at you gently. “And you’re beautiful. Never let anybody or anything tell you otherwise.” You smiled at Echo softly, your eyes welling up with tears as he plucked a stray piece of hair behind your ears. Echo had always looked at you as if you had hung the stars from the sky yourself with your bare hands. “May I kiss you?” He asked, leaning in closer to your face. Your throat was so dry, you couldn’t respond with words, so instead you just nodded your head desperately. Before you could even comprehend what in the kriff was going on, Echo had his lips against yours softly and tenderly. It was strangely intimate. Echo’s hands slip down to your waist, gripping ever-so-slightly at the fabric around your hips. He deepened the kiss by slipping his tongue against your lips, desperate to taste the inside of your mouth. With a soft moan, you let him enter, opening your mouth to the force of him greedily pushing his tongue inside. You stifled another moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you wrapped your arms tighter around his waist. “Oh Gods, Y/N,” Echo grumbled against your lips. His nails dug further into the fabric around your hips, pulling you flush against his body. “I–I need you. Now.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, but Echo didn’t answer with words. Instead he picked you up bridal style and carried you to his bunk a few feet away. You let out a slight squeak in protest as he picked you up, but the second you were laid down on his bunk, you wished to be back in his embrace. The clone climbed on top of you, his hands greedily roaming around your body, almost as if he was trying to map out the entire layout of your body underneath him. His hands pulled your shirt up to your chest, exposing your breasts. Shakily, Echo brought his lips up to your nipple, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud to test the waters. When another soft moan left your lips, Echo’s confidence grew and he found himself mouthing both of your breasts. When he wasn’t sucking one, he was fondling it with his free hand as his scomp desperately tried to pull your trousers down. He was failing miserably, however. “Need some help?” You asked, a cheeky grin on your face. Echo pulled away from your breast and looked up at you, nodding his head before turning back to sucking and biting gently at your nipple. You pushed Echo off to the side, although his mouth was still attached to you, and pulled down your trousers and underwear until you were completely bare to him. 

“Cyar’ika,” Echo whispered softly as he pulled away to look at you. He sounded almost breathless as he stared down at you. “You are so… Mesh’la.” He was too stunned for words. His hands trailed down your body, stopping between your legs and slipping a finger up your slick folds. The clone next to you let out a shaky breath as he dipped a finger inside your tight heat, your cunt sucking his finger in almost greedily. “Kriff.”

“Please Echo,” you begged softly. “Please, I want you so badly.”

“You’ll have me cyar’ika. Just let me…” He trailed off his voice, his finger pumping in and out of you at a languid pace. Soft moans left your lips as you spread your legs wider, giving Echo better access to that sweet spot inside of you. Echo groaned as he felt your walls tighten around him and without any warning, pulled out of you completely. You whimpered at the loss of contact, but quickly gasped when he began to remove his armour and blacks. This was really happening. 

“Echo I’m begging you don’t tease me,” came your whimpering voice, so needy and desperate. Echo nodded his head and settled himself between your wide-spread legs, gawking at the wetness that coated your folds. He grasped the base of his cock as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, his eyes widening and head thrown back as he sheathed himself into you inch by inch. 

“Oh mesh’la, you feel so kriffing good I can’t–” he stopped as he began to move his hips slowly, relishing in the feeling of your tightness wrapped around him. After a few seconds, Echo picked up memento, slamming into you at a slightly faster pace. “You’re – ah – clenching me so tightly.”

“S-Sorry,” came your voice, low and sheepish. 

Echo shook his head in response, his lips attaching to your neck as he kissed down to your collarbone. “Don’t be sorry mesh’la, it feels so damn good.”

“Echo I’m going to cum,” you whimper out softly. 

“Cum for me baby, cum for me and I’ll fill you up,” Echo growled softly. His voice was demanding and primal, and the coil in your stomach snapped at his words. Blinding white light filled your vision as you came, legs trembling around Echo’s waist. “Good girl,” he practically purred. 

“Cum for Echo, please cum for me,” you begged. 

Echo nodded his head, his movements speeding up in the process. He was so close, so unbelievably close he just needed something that would tip him over the edge and the second you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, that did it. Echo was able to reach a new spot inside of you and it felt too good. The next thing you felt was Echo pumping deep inside of you, his cum spurting out of the tip. “Kriff, Y/N!” Echo called out, his body trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. His movements slowed down until he was at a complete stop, laying on top of you while panting heavily to catch his breath. “That was unbelievable,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head lovingly. 

You nodded your head, smiling up at him with complete adoration in your eyes. “Did you mean it?” You asked, gazing at him. 

Echo raised an eyebrow and looked at you. “Did I mean what?” 

“That you love me? Do you love me, Echo?” 

“More than anything,” came his reply. He bent down to press a soft kiss to your lips, a slow but passionate kiss. Different to any other you had experienced before. You felt your knees go weak from a mixture of your orgasm and the kiss, and kissed him back. “I love you, Y/N. From the moment I set eyes on you.” 

“I love you too Echo,” you whisper softly, echoing the words back to him. The two of you lay there in silence for a while as Echo stroked your hair lovingly. Eventually, Echo let out a hearty laugh, looking down at you. “What?” You asked him, tilting your head. 

“To think all of this happened because Omega called you mum.”

“I’m glad she did then,” you smirked at Echo, not even trying to hide your smugness at the current situation. 

Echo wrapped his arm and scomp around you while nodding. “I’m glad she did too.”

“Hey, are you two finished there? Cid’s sending us on a new mission and we could really use your help!” Wrecker’s loud voice came from behind the door. 

“We’re not finished yet!” Echo called back, rolling his eyes. You looked up at Echo with a raised eyebrow and he just shrugged before whispering to you, “just a few more minutes. I just want to hold you a little longer.” You couldn’t help the wide smile that span across your lips at his words. 

“Well don’t be too long! I’m missing Y/N’s company,” Wrecker said through the door, clearly pouting. Then, you heard his footsteps fade away into the distance and you were finally alone with Echo once more. 

“Sleep, mesh’la. I’ll wake you up when we get to the mission location,” he whispered, running his hand through your hair. You nodded your head and closed your eyes, and it wasn’t long before you were drifting off into the deep abyss of sleep, peacefully dreaming of all of the things to come. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Tech: 

“Are you memorising the ship's manifest, Omega?” Tech asked, looking over his shoulder at the young clone besides him. 

Omega nodded proudly to Tech, her eyes gleaming with hope. “Yeah, mum’s been helping me!” 

“Mum?” Tech questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I mean Y/N,” Omega said quickly, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red at her misslip. It was clear she was embarrassed, but rather than keeping his mouth shut Tech decided to make it so much worse. 

“She is not your mother, Omega. She is more like a sister to you than a mother,” he explained, adjusting his orange goggles that were resting over his eyes.

“I know that, I’m not sure why I called her mum,” Omega mumbled softly, looking away from Tech’s scrutinising gaze. 

“It would simply be a slip of the tongue,” it was Tech’s way of trying to make Omega feel better, but it wasn’t working. 

Omega was about to speak when you stepped in. “Hey you two, been looking all over for you!” You exclaimed as you stepped into the cockpit. 

“Well where else would we be other than the cockpit?” Tech asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow. 

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “You could have been anywhere.” Omega continued to read the ship's manifest, trying her hardest to memorise everything, despite the overwhelming sense of dread and embarrassment that lingered in her gut. Her red face worried you and occasionally you glanced over at her to make sure that she was okay. 

“I’m going to see Hunter,” Omega grumbled, standing up out of her chair without saying another word and leaving the cockpit. 

“Where is Hunter?” Tech asked. 

“He’s just outside.” 

Tech simply nodded at your explanation and watched as you tinkered around. After a few moments of watching you, he finally asked. “What is it you are doing?” 

“Just cleaning,” you reply, dusting off Tech’s workspace. He seemed confused, you had just cleaned the space the previous day, it didn’t need dusting again for at least another day or two. Tech continued watching you with a quirked eyebrow, watching intently as you reached high places to dust and picked up various knick knacks to dust too. He felt something well deep inside of him as Omega’s words echoed back in his mind, of her calling you mum. 

Tech cleared his throat and sighed, adjusting his goggles once again. “You know, I often clean this place when I work on my projects. It does not need you to attend to it.” 

You placed down your duster and looked towards Tech, a visible frown on your face. “It just… Makes me feel better knowing it’s been done properly.”

“You doubt my ability to clean?” Tech asked. 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No. Not like that! I just meant that, well I’m not sure what I meant actually.”

Tech couldn’t help but let out a small huff of a chuckle. He knew that you meant no offence, but still couldn’t help but feel as though you doubted his ability to clean. “Nevermind.” You looked somewhat embarrassed but quickly began your cleaning again before you had the chance to say something else to further your embarrassment. Tech continued to watch you and couldn’t help but admire the way your body moved and stretched when you tried to reach high places. 

“What were you and Omega talking about before I came in?” You asked. 

Tech adjusted his goggles once again before muttering, “nothing much. But, something peculiar did happen.”

“Oh yeah? What was that?” You asked. 

“Omega called you mum,” Tech explained. 

Your eyes widened and your lips parted. “She did what?”

“She called you mum,” Tech repeated, thinking you genuinely hadn’t heard him the first time. “I thought it rather funny, if I am being honest.”

“Why did she call me mum?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Tech tried to push the feelings down that were welling deep inside of him. Whatever they were, he couldn’t explain them. Once again, readjusting his goggles, Tech began to talk. “Well, we were talking about whether or not she had been memorising the manifest. She had explained to me that she had and she said, and I quote, ‘mum’s been helping me’ referring to you.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, feeling quite overwhelmed. You felt your heart flutter at the comment, and couldn’t help but smile. 

“I found it rather odd, but at the same I can understand why.” Tech offered you a small smile. “I feel as if Omega has become really attached to you.” 

You nodded your head. “I think so too.” 

“It is not a bad thing, if that is what you are thinking,” Tech said, but you quickly shook your head in disagreement. “I must admit, it gave me a peculiar feeling myself.”

“In what way?” You asked, tilting your head.

“It…” Tech took a deep breath and sighed. “It made my stomach flutter, amongst other things.”

“Other things?” You prodded. 

“Yes.”

“Like what?” 

“It does not matter,” he grumbled, feeling his cock twitch against his armour. Thoughts of you beneath him suddenly filled his mind and Tech’s eyes visibly widened in horror. He had never had an impure thought in his life, and suddenly at the thought of his sister calling you mum, he was struggling to compose himself and right in front of you too. Tech couldn’t help but suddenly notice how beautiful you were, his eyes roaming over your figure as you looked at him. 

“Tech… Is everything okay?” You enquired. 

Clearing his throat, Tech nodded. “Yes. Everything is just fine I…” He trailed off once more, feeling his cock twitch against his armour yet again.  

“You?” 

“I am just feeling a bit strange,” he tried to explain without giving away too much but you saw straight through him. Your eyes flickered down to his crotch, now exposed from his manspread position in the pilot's seat, his erection obvious against his now bulging armour. 

A grin appeared on your face. “Really Tech? That does it for you?” 

Tech looked down between his legs, his face heated up almost immediately. “I do not know what you are talking about.” 

“Oh yeah? You have no idea?” You asked teasingly, your voice holding a rather smug tone. “Do you need some help, pretty boy?” 

“W–What?” He managed to stammer out, choking on a bit of his spit. 

“Do you want some help with that?” You repeated, motioning down to his erection. Tech fumbled over his words as you walked over to him and knelt down between his legs. With you looking up at him, his breath caught in his throat and his cock twitched yet again. When he didn’t protest, you began to remove his codpiece, allowing his cock to breathe slightly now that the plastoid was no longer pressing against him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He didn’t want you to stop, not at all but his words weren’t working so he simply shook his head. You grabbed the knife from his pocket and carefully slit his blacks around the hip before you ripped them open. 

“My blacks!” He exclaimed, but you simply shushed him. 

“You have more, Tech. Besides, if we’re going to do this you need to be quiet.” Your voice was like a command and it sent a jolt straight to Tech’s cock. He nodded his head again, a slight whimper left his lips as he watched you pull down your own trousers. You unhooked one leg from them, giving yourself easier access to move before spreading your legs. With wide eyes, Tech watched as you spat on your hand and rubbed it against the lips of your cunt, lubing yourself up. 

“Oh Gods,” he moaned under his breath as you straddled him, the heat of your pussy rubbing up against the red head of his cock. Tech’s breath was shaky as you lowered yourself down onto him, adjusting to the new sensation of him seated inside of you. You began to move after a few seconds, bouncing slowly on Tech’s cock. Your cunt gripped him tightly, earning groans and moans from the smart clone below you. This just made you move faster, slamming down on him repeatedly forcing him to moan out your name. “Kriff, Y/N.”

“Mhm?” You asked softly, wiggling your hips from side-to-side. 

��Feels so good,” came a strangled moan from his lips. Spurring you on even more, you let out a soft moan of your own as your hand made its way between your legs, rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, the thickness of Tech’s cock mixed with the sensations on your clit was pushing you to the edge. 

“C–Can I cum?” You asked Tech, slightly breathless. 

“Please,” he practically growled. You nodded your head erratically and rubbed your clit faster, pushing yourself to the brink of collapse. Tech’s hands fell to your hips, gripping them tightly as his own hips moved to meet your harsh movements. With a final bounce, you felt your walls contract around Tech’s cock, quivering above him. Your head rested on his left shoulder as you continued the same movements, but now languidly and Tech knew it was his turn to take over. His hand on your hips tightened as he pushed up against you, hitting that sensitive spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. 

“Gods Tech, don’t stop!” You cried out. 

“I do not plan on it, mesh’la,” he whispered as his hips smashed against yours desperately. He was so big, you felt as if he was going to split you open and your cunt was beginning to become sensitive with each harsh thrust Tech made. “I’m going to cum cyar’ika. Where do you want me?” 

“Inside, please!” You begged. Tech’s eyes widened at your words, not expecting you to ask him to cum inside of you, but he couldn’t deny you. Not when you felt so good wrapped around him. He nodded and began to thrust up against you rapidly until he met his orgasm full force. Tech spilled his cum deep inside of you without a care in the world, his body shivering violently as you milked him dry. 

“Kriff–” he groaned, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “You’re so beautiful.” 

You pulled away from Tech’s shoulder and smiled softly at him. “So are you.” 

He let out a soft smile your way as he slipped his cock out of you. “Would you mind getting me a spare pair of blacks? Considering you ruined these ones.”

“Oops,” you replied cheekily, shrugging, but nodding your head. You put your leg back into your trouser hole and pulled them up your legs before leaving the cockpit to get Tech a spare pair of blacks. When you appeared again, Tech was looking slightly more presentable than he did when you left, albeit his softening cock was still on display. He took the blacks from your hand and nodded his head. 

“Thank you.” 

“Do you feel better?” You asked, watching closely as Tech dressed himself again and put his codpiece back into place. Tech nodded at you and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed that Omega calling you ‘mum’ had aroused him, but it had and there was no going back now. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to get back to cleaning the ship.”

“Understood,” Tech replied, watching as you continued your original position cleaning the cockpit. He smirked to himself before shaking his head. He had no idea what the future held for you, but he was excited to see where things went. 

[zoeykallus]

Hi, Zoey! Are your requests open? I had an idea after watching Kenobi.

There’s a scene in Kenobi where the Inquisitors show up to a market place in search of Jedi. They throw a knife at the shop owner knowing that the Jedi hiding among the patrons will stop the knife from harming him. It would be interesting to see that with Hunter.

Maybe Hunter and Cid’s bartender have a relationship. Bartender was weary of the clones at first but warmed up to them and liked Hunter. They just started dating when Inquisitors show up. They use the knife trick on someone (maybe even Omega) and bartender is forced to expose themselves as a former Jedi.

I’d love to see how Hunter would react to that.

oh oh oh oh... I got something in my head!

*Running in circles*

I actually had a scene like this in my head for a while now, I put the whole batch in there but focus on Hunter as a love interest.

Hunter x Jedi/Reader - One-Shot - The Things We Do For Love

Warnings: Angst/Canon Typical Violence/Blood/Fluff

No one knows about your past with the Jedi order. You are forced to drop your cover, when you try to save Hunter's life.

_______

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_______

It's strange, life after Order 66 - hiding, pretending to be someone else. And it doesn't get any easier every day as you'd hoped, at least not at first. Cid's Bar, that's where you ended up at some point. You work behind the counter. You serve all kinds of strange clientele. Cid's Bar is like a meeting place for all kinds of scum in the Galaxy. Life has changed, a lot. Priorities change. The code after you've lived so long is nowhere near as important as surviving and belonging somewhere so you're not completely alone in this universe. But you can't open up to anyone, not exactly the most decent people come and go here. So you keep a low profile. You even flirt here and there to keep up appearances, but at the same time, you keep everyone at a distance. And then, to make matters worse, these clones turn up. Automatically, every alarm sounds inside you. Order 66 flares up in your memory, sharp and painful. It takes so much willpower to stay calm, to not let anything get to you, so much trauma hangs in every thought of clones. No one knows who you are, no one even suspects that you were part of the Jedi Order.

And yet these men surprise you, especially one of them who leads the group. He is so thoughtful, so serious. Hunter always seems to be lost in thought, trying to keep everything under control, to ensure safety. He rarely leans back and really takes a breath. He's almost always worried and tense, you can feel it in the Force. But eventually, he thaws out, you somehow strike up a conversation, and you quickly learn how much depth and kindness lie beneath that brooding, skeptical exterior. Hunter can even be funny, very observant and above all else, he's decent, probably one of the most decent people to ever come and go in this bar. You catch yourself admiring him. Your eyes meet more and more often, you talk to each other more often, even flirt. But this flirting is different, it's not fake, it feels real, exciting and for you, with your past, completely new and almost reckless. You are both obviously interested in each other, just as you are both shy and cautious in a certain way. Weeks, even months go by before your hands touch for the first time, and he asks you out.

You can see it in his face, he can hardly believe it himself, hidden behind his smile is a nervous boy who is incredibly afraid of being rejected by you. The big, brooding leader has a great weakness, you. Of course, you say yes, you can hardly resist this special man, clone soldier or not, Hunter has so much good in him, he attracts you like a magnet, not to mention his good, bold looks do the rest.

It starts like any other evening. More or less. After your first date, Hunter usually comes into the bar smiling, automatically seeking your gaze as soon as he walks through the door. You can't help it, you smile back every time, accompanied by a warm tingling in your stomach, warmth rising in your cheeks and ears.

But something is different today. There is a presence in the room, dark, determined, hard as stone, surrounded by sharp edges. You sense this presence in the Force, its intransigence. You look around in alarm. The bar is a little busier today, your gaze wanders more or less inconspicuously around the room. Then you see him. You meet cold eyes, eyes as blue as sapphires, their gaze steely and sharp, so intense that you automatically lower your own gaze and distractedly clean a glass. But you know this person has already noticed you. Right now you're feverishly thinking about your next steps and how to get out of here alive without putting anyone in danger. Hunter frowns worriedly, watching you. He can tell something is wrong. Tech is talking to him, but he is focused on you right now. He leaves the table where he was sitting with his brothers and is about to come over to you when he hears a voice say clearly and distinctly, not shouting but loud enough, "CT 9901"

You feel hot and cold, a shiver runs down your spine, you're sure Hunter feels the same way, you can see it on his face. All the heads at the Bad Batch table look up in surprise, shock and alarm. Hunter turns to the voice that seems to be coming from one of the other tables a few meters away. A man suddenly stands up, slowly, unhurriedly, confidently. Like a predator who is sure of his prey, who has no reason to be afraid, no need to hurry. Neither you nor Hunter like the body language. What surprises you, however, is that this man, in his strange, dark uniform, is not looking for you as you expected, but obviously for Hunter and presumably his brothers. "All 99ers in one room, this must be my lucky day. And not only that, I feel like I'm getting a little something extra on top of that," the somber stranger says, his voice deep and clear, almost melodic.

The room falls silent, as if the presence of this man demands it. With a confident little smile, the man pulls a knife from his belt, the first movement is slow, almost sluggish, but the throw comes so suddenly that you barely have time to react. It has become so quiet in the bar that you could hear a pin drop. But when the blade suddenly seems to stop in mid-air barely a centimeter from Hunter's eye, a murmur goes through the room. You're sure you can hear someone whispering the word Jedi.

Hunter only lets out a quiet, "What the hell", he can't help but stare at the blade for a moment. He should be dead, he realizes, that vibro blade should have drilled into his skull, but there it is, hovering right in front of his face. Out of the corner of his eye he sees your outstretched hand, your concentrated gaze, and he begins to understand. You stopped the blade from killing him, you stopped it in its tracks. The stranger's cool voice draws you both back to him. "I knew I sensed a Jedi in the room, and I knew you couldn't resist to show yourself" In the next moment everything happens very quickly, there is no time to think, to process, to make plans. The man reaches out his hand, and you feel his grip on you in the force. You are swept over the bar counter, with a pull on your body, trough the force, knocking over two tables on your way to the floor. Everything around you happens in a haze, you hear Hunter cursing angrily, blaster shots, the distinctive buzz of an awakening lightsaber, screams from the other patrons. A red glow fills the room. The smell of burned flesh.

Your left side hurts. You landed hard on the tables when the Sith Force-wrenched you over the counter, maybe you cracked a few ribs. There are shards on the surrounding floor from the glasses that went down. As you try to pick yourself up, you accidentally reach in and cut your right palm. The pain is sharp, clear and distinct, bringing you back to reality from your surprise. You jump to your feet, skillfully, supported by the force that flows through and envelops you. It's been a long time since you've used the Force and your abilities in this way, but it's as if you've never let it out of your fingers, the lightsaber sliding into your hand, its blade glowing blue with its characteristic hum. Blood runs down the hilt of your weapon from the open cut on your hand, it burns, but you ignore the pain. You feel Hunter's gaze, he is still confused. He knows what you are now, but he certainly hasn't processed the news yet. At the moment, you all have other things to worry about. Did the Sith come alone? Are there Stormtroopers waiting for you outside the bar?

You concentrate on the force, on the intentions of your opponent. Everything you feel emanating from him is sharp, dark, glowing hot. He is driven by rage, and the moment your lightsabers cross, you feel all the hatred in his attacks, which are admittedly much stronger than you expected. You've never fought a real Sith before. The first touch of your lightsabers is like an electric shock, an incredibly hard impact, a wave of fury that seems to roll over you from your opponent. The hilt of your weapon is slippery with your own blood, you have to grab it hastily with both hands so that the sword doesn't slip from your grasp or your opponent will decapitate you. For a moment, Hunter's concern penetrates your perception, but you shut him out and have to concentrate. A quick exchange of blows follows, attack, parry, retreat, attack, parry... The handle of your weapon becomes increasingly slippery with your own blood. Then it happens, another hard blow, you parry, the impact of the blades causes your weapon to slip away.

You hear Hunter yell out, hear the shock in his voice, the terror in that simple word, "No!" His blaster lies on the ground, sliced in half by the Sith's blade. Hunter has pulled his knife from his belt in a split second, lunging in the Sith's direction. The blade of your attacker hovers just in front of your neck, you hold the Sith and his weapon in this position with all the strength you can muster with body and force. Your heart races, adrenaline flows through your body. There are only millimeters between your life and death. Millimeters before the red lightsaber could sever your head from your shoulders. Hunter reaches an arm around the Sith's neck and jabs his knife into his side. The sergeant's voice is dark and smoky as he rasps, "Not on my watch"

The red lightsaber goes out and falls to the ground. Hunter kicks it aside, away from the Sith's hands, and lets the mortally wounded attacker slide to the ground. You see Hunter's chest rise and fall, still electrified, while your adrenaline suddenly subsides and your hands begin to tremble a little. You concentrate on the force, your center, and banish the trembling from your limbs. With a sigh, you look at the man on the ground, who is taking his last breaths, his cold, sapphire eyes still looking up at you with hatred, but there is also reluctance in them, surprise, defiance. Echo kneels down next to him, feels his pulse. "Quite dead," he says dryly, and with a glance at your extinguished lightsaber, he asks, "Care to explain?" "Take it easy, Echo. I guess it's obvious why we're only finding out now, it would have been dangerous to reveal the truth," Hunter says calmly and steps closer, carefully grabbing your hand and looking at the cut.

"That needs stitching," Tech says with a sideways glance and adds, "I can do it when we get to the Marauder, we should get out of here, more will come" The others lead the way, Hunter and you follow at a slight distance. You can't quite believe it yet. CF99 accepts you into their midst, no ifs, no questions, yet. Admittedly, Echo is still a little skeptical, but he always is. But you're part of it now, you're no longer alone. The thought spikes a feeling of euphoria in you. "Looks like Clone Force 99 has its own Jedi now," Hunter says with a wry smile. You crack a smile, liking the idea, forgetting for a moment your bleeding hand and the drops of blood that fall to the ground and on your tunic. Crosshair, who is walking ahead of you, casts a jaunty glance over his shoulder and says dryly, "Just don't expect me to follow your orders, General." He says it with a wink, even if his words sound a little hostile, he is friendly to you, you sense his intentions in the Force.

You say quietly, "I wasn't going to give you orders, you have a working system as a group, I wouldn't dream of changing it" The Sniper laughs softly, "Clever Jedi" Hunter drops back a little, and you do the same, sensing that he has something to say to you. After a little while, on your way to the Marauder, he says seriously, "You gave up your cover to save my life, thank you" You chuckle and say softly, "The things we do for love" Hunter listens in surprise and asks, "So our dates aren't part of your cover?" You've opened up to him in the force, feeling his pulse, the tingling under his skin as if it were your own. "I would never play with your feelings, not even as a cover," you say seriously. Hunter breathes a sigh of relief and asks, "So nothing will change between us?" "I'd like us to continue our relationship and see where it takes us," you reply with a warm smile. You feel his relief, his affection, and you breathe a sigh of relief as well.

"That's what I want too," he says, carefully grabbing your hand and taking another look at the wound. "That looks really bad," he says, frowning. Wrecker comes rushing up and murmurs, "Now hurry up, or our Jedi will bleed to death!" Impatiently, he grabs you and lifts you off your feet to carry you to the Marauder. You make a small, startled noise. "Wrecker," Hunter says softly, admonishing. "What? The little Jedi got hurt!" Wrecker returns unperturbed and carries you to the Marauder. "It's just a cut on my hand," you say, waving it off. "It's bleeding a lot," Tech comments as Wrecker sets you down next to him and points at your stained tunic. Tech already has medical supplies ready, including a needle and thread, but first Echo cleans the wound. You grit your teeth, because the cleaning stings a lot. Echo says knowingly, "Don't worry, it'll be done in a minute"

Wrecker asks curiously, "Is the Jedi officially with us now?" Hunter sits down opposite you and watches as your wound is taken care of, he says, "I think so" "But I'm not really a Jedi anymore. There is no longer a Jedi order and I haven't been following the code for a while now, at least not to the letter," Hunter's eyes meet yours at the last words. Your heart beats faster as a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "We're not really regular clones either, we're not really soldiers anymore," Tech says lightly. Crosshair sticks a toothpick in his mouth and mutters, "Welcome to the defect squad, I have a feeling you'll fit in perfectly here"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

________

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

@bandnerdlevel43

[tightjeansjavi]

Hi!! Love your writing!! Can you write a cowboy fetish joel miller with boot riding 🥺🥺

Hi nonnie! Thank you for sending this in! It scratched my brain just ✨right✨ and I hope it does the same for you! I couldn’t just do some boot ridin’ without some plot ;) enjoy 🤠

Dinner & Diatribes

~word count: 3.7k~

Pairing | Cowboy/bounty hunter! Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life

Warnings: smut,fluff, angst, cowboy in shining armor vibes, unprotected piv, boot ridin! dick slingin, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implied age gap, dom/sub vibes, sir/mister kink, implied abuse (not by Joel) Joel is a bounty hunter during the Wild West, reader is a runaway bride wanted for murdering three men, filthy language, pining, protective! Joel, assumed unrequited love, swearing, AU that might not 100% be historically accurate but I tried! reader has no physical descriptions such a skin tone or body type, readers nickname is Chickadee, +18 minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

Joel Miller knows that keeping a bounty for himself ain’t the way to go about things..he knows that there’s consequences for his actions, an imminent problem would surely arise if he didn’t bring you back to the town you fled from. Wanted for the murders of three men. A wild untamable thing on the run is how the sheriff described you to Joel. And the most important detail of all; I don’t care if you bring her back alive, or in pieces.

And then Joel found you, tracked your trails for miles and miles through the barren rough terrain of the Wild West. You didn’t even put up a fight when you heard the distinct sound of thundering hooves drawing nearer and nearer. You were exhausted, dehydrated, and on the verge of collapsing to the dusty earth while vultures circled ahead.

This didn’t mean you gave up entirely when Joel Miller had you circled, cornered and lasso at the ready. That’s when he took notice of your state, your attire. A once glittering wedding dress now hanging on by threads of shredded fabric. The bottom tooled fabric was now a dirty sand color, blending in with the dirt. Remnants of your eye makeup cracked and stained beneath your eyes and cheekbones that were once painted in a pretty pigment.

He watched from the saddle of his horse as you sank down to your knees, awaiting your inevitable fate to be delivered. “Have you come to turn me in, Mister?”

His head cocked to the side, eyes studying your vulnerable form intently. You couldn’t see his face as it was obstructed from your view with a tied bandana, but even from where you sat on your knees, you could see that his eyes were a deep shade of brown, dark and mysterious.

He dismounted his horse swiftly, silently, boots tearing up dusty patches of earth with each heavy step he took. The spurs on the back of his boots chimed through the air as he stopped in front of you. His broad frame casted a shadow over your kneeling form. His hands were encased in worn leather, and he smelled of tobacco smoke, saddle soap, and musk.

He crouched down, hat tipping forward while one leather clad hand reached for your jaw, thumb brushing across your skin as he tilted it upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. He saw your grime and dried blood stained face up close. Your eyes flickered nervously as he turned your head to the side.

“Ain’t you gonna get on with it and turn me in? What’re you draggin’ this out for, huh? You caught me, mister. Go and collect your fuckin’ reward.” You spat defiantly into the dirt, a glob of salvia landing on the toe of his boot.

His grip tightened around your chin, jaw ticking sharp like a knife, eyes narrowing in on your face and the subtle wobble of your severely cracked and dry lower lip.

“What happened to you?” He finally spoke. His voice reminded you of fire crackling, ominous thunder and heavy rain. Thick, gravelly, deeper than the Grand Canyon itself.

“What’s it matter if I tell ya, huh? You gonna take pity on me or somethin’ mister?”

He was silent again, appearing deep in thought as he continued to study your face, searching through the grime and dirt for any clues..then, he saw it; The eyes of someone that suffered abuse. His grip around your chin softened

“Stand up.” He commanded.

You struggled to your feet, confusion etched in your features, the obvious sway in your step before two strong hands grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“We’ll have to move fast.”

“What’re you—” You were still confused, head spinning from his words and malnourishment.

“I don’t turn in folks that killed outta self defense, Chickadee. And certainly not a woman that killed her abusers.” He gave you a curt, tight nod. “Better you than I cause I woulda tied those sons a bitches up and dragged them through the fuckin’ desert.” He rasped.

“You’re..not turnin’ me in?”

“No. Ain’t morally right for me t’do so.” He said softly.

And that’s how you ended up riding through the countryside with Joel Miller to protect you. You’d patch up his shiners, his wounds, keep his belly full with hearty stews that kept him strong and alert. You’d clean his gun, shine his leather till you could see your reflection in the fabric. And in return, he protected you. He never asked for any sexual favors, or for your hand. He viewed you as his equal, his partner.

It hurt sometimes, to flirt with the man you owed your life to and for him to brush your attempts off everytime. As if you were a pesky horsefly, or insignificant gnat. Yet, you couldn’t help it. Joel was handsome, ruggedly so and you’d often find yourself fantasizing about kissing him, feeling his fingers touch you in places you craved to be touched in. To feel his caress on your skin, the bite of his leather, the scrape of his scruffy beard. The stretch of his cock inside of your wet cunt.

You were driving yourself mad with want for a man that didn’t want you back, or so you assumed that was to be the case.

That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Joel Miller was on the edge to finally just give in when he caught you one night with your skirts hiked above your thighs with your boot clad feet firmly planted in the dirt. Under the pale glow of the moonlight above, and the glittery shining stars, he could see your hand between your thighs, touching yourself and moaning his name.

It felt wrong to watch you, to invade your privacy and your modesty. But he’d be damned if he’d go another night without feeling the hug of your pussy around his aching cock. Or to feel the taste of your kissable lips on his tongue. Damned. Damned. Damned. Fuck, he couldn’t survive another second without knowing what it was like to be loved by you.

For years he had pushed you away despite knowing the pain it caused both you and him. A man could only last so long pretending to not love a woman that he’d throw his life down for in a heartbeat. That’s the kinda love Joel Miller had been dreaming of all his life.

Your head snapped at the sound of a twig snapping behind you as your hand stilled between your thighs. Your heartbeat rattled wildly in your rib cage at the fear and excitement of being caught.

Oh, please. Please let tonight be the night.

“Don’t stop on my account, Chickadee.” He drawled deeply before stepping closer to where you sat.

The heat rushed to your cheeks like a wildfire spreading, your stomach clenched inwards as you began to touch yourself once more, eyes staying locked on his own.

When he was close enough, you used his shins for support as you rubbed your swollen clit in tight, fast circles.

“No.” He shook his head. “Slower. Take your time, darlin.’ There ain’t no rush. Let me see you.” He rasped, before slowly sinking into the dirt behind you. His strong thighs corralled your own almost possessively as his hands gently grasped the hem of your skirts, pulling them up higher. You felt the brush of his beard against your cheek when his chin came to rest along your shoulder. “Nice and slow for me.”

“I’m—sorry, Joel.” You whispered ashamedly through the cool darkness of the desert night. You slowed your fingers, dragging them through the building slick that pooled between the seam of your cunt.

“Sorry for what, Chickadee? Sorry for touchin’ yourself? For moanin’ my name? Why would you be sorry for that?..” His deep tone sent sparks flying through your body as you leaned back into his strong chest.

“Because—you don’t want me, and this is wrong for me to do. To touch myself and moan a man’s name that doesn’t desire me the way I desire him.” A whimper was clawing up your throat, begging to be released, but you wouldn’t allow it.

He dropped the fabric of your skirts briefly only to dip his hand between your thighs and place his massive palm over the top of your hand, guiding your fingers over your clit once more. “This man desires you plenty, Chickadee. I was only tryin’ to protect your modesty..and our hearts.” He whispered against your ear, lips ghosting across your exposed skin. “Been wantin’ to love you all these years we’ve spent together.” He admitted. “I’m a terrible, rotten man for keepin’ you starved this long..” he trailed off, pressing open mouthed kisses at the spot where your jaw met your neck. “M’sorry.”

Those were the last words you ever expected a fucking bounty hunter to whisper..let alone to you?

A shuddered breath slipped past your parted lips, just for him. Your head lolled to the side, granting him easier access as your lashes fluttered shut. “I’ve felt like..such a fool, Joel. A dirty little fool for a bounty hunter.” You took your lower lip between your teeth, biting down harshly and drawing blood to the surface. You let him take full control of your hand, letting him guide and manipulate your fingers to play with yourself just right.

“Shh..I know now, Chickadee. M’sorry, truly. But I’m here now, ain’t I? M’here. Here forever if you’ll have me. I understand if I've bruised and neglected your heart far too many times..I can accept your rejection if it is coming.”

You could detect the edge of sadness in his tone, the acceptance already settling into his bones and heart.

“Joel, please kiss me.” You nearly begged him, dying to finally know what his lips would feel like on your own.

“Why didn’t ya just say that sooner, Chickadee.” He chuckled. “I wish ya woulda just grabbed me by the breeches years ago and knocked some sense into my thick skull. Woulda taken your ache away a long time ago, darlin.’” He said in a hushed whisper. “But I know you were afraid..can’t blame ya for that. Not really. ‘Specially since I ain’t the nicest of men to come by.”

He was taking too long, and you were an impatient woman.

“Joel.” You huffed, fighting the urge to curse him out before you decided to take matters into your own hands, finally. Tomorrow was never promised, not when you and Joel were constantly on the run.

He kept rambling on until he felt the soft touch of your fingertips brushing against the patches in his scruffy beard and the magnetic pull drawing him in closer, closer till he could taste your mingled breath on his lips.

Here in the middle of the desert, with nothing but the moon and stars as a source of light, you finally knew what it was like to kiss Joel Miller. You learned his lips quickly, liking that they were both soft and a bit chapped. As you licked slowly into one another’s mouths you could taste the faint remnants of tobacco on his tongue. It was a bruising kiss, one that both ignited the fire deep within you, and sent a delicious tingle curving down your spine.

So, this is what the girls back home were all talking about. Being kissed by a real man.

And then you found yourself straddling him in the dirt, saying fuck all to your modesty because you had never wanted a man more than you did now. And you wished that your mother could see you now. To see what her perfect little daughter had turned into.

Fuck you, mother. Fuck you for forcing me to marry that monster.

Joel brought you back down to earth with both his lips and his words tattooed on your skin. He caged you with his body, acting as a shield from the chilly night ear that sent goosebumps rising.

He worked your blouse open, growing more frustrated by the minute when the clasps wouldn’t automatically give. He was desperate to feel more of you, all of you because he knew then that you were his, and he was yours. And if you’d end up being the death of him, so be it. At least he could go out being loved rather than unloved.

“You gonna fuck me now, mister? Gonna take what belongs to you, Joel?” You mumbled against his lips in a chasing kiss, growing more desperate as the seconds ticked by.

“Gonna do more than that, Chickadee.” He rasped. This was a promise, and a man such as Joel always kept his promises.

The howl of a Coyote far off in the distant sent uneasy nerves rolling through you, because the realization hit you then that you and Joel were out in the fucking wilderness, and you suddenly felt bare and exposed.

“Jus’ a coyote, doll. He’s singin’ to the moon. We’re safe here, I promise. Ain’t ever gonna let somethin’ happen to you again, Chickadee.” His strong calloused, yet gentle hands came to cup for your face. His deep brown eyes met yours through the pale glow of the moonlight casted over your faces. “I swear on my life, you will always be safe with me.”

and while the lone coyote sang his song to the moon, Joel Miller had you singing your own song, just for his ears too.

After that night spent together, you never had a night where you slept alone. Joel was always there. Holding you, kissing you, fucking you into a blissful state.

He still feared for your safety, and you feared for his. This would never change, but you refused to live in fear for the rest of your life.

It was a boiling hot day under the blazing desert sun. You and Joel were moving west towards California. Hearing about the gold rush there sounded like as good of an opportunity as any. Not even just for the gold, but the prospects of a new life. Joel had dreams of owning a ranch, sheep specifically and living out his days with you by his side.

“Come join me for a swim, cowboy.” You were sitting side by side under the one single tree along the river's edge. Your two horses were drinking their fill after traveling for days in these conditions.

Your cowboy had his arms crossed behind his head, biceps bulging under the thin fabric of his shirt. His hat was tipped down over his head. You only witnessed Joel being fully relaxed on a few occasions where he would let his guard down for just mere minutes.

“Mmm. That’s alright, doll. Y’go on and enjoy yourself.” He said with a lazy sigh.

“Just a quick one together? Please?” You reached over and gently lifted the brim of his hat just enough so you could see his closed eyes.”

“Chickadee..” he said in a low warning tone, peeking one eye open to look up at you before he shut it once more.

“You’re no fun.” You huffed while releasing your gentle grip on his hat.

“M’plenty fun, doll. I gotta keep watch, anyway. Can’t do that if I’m stark naked in the river with ya. What if someone tries to sneak up? Won’t have my gun at arms reach.” He sighed.

“I know, Joel.”

Maybe when we get to California..he won’t have to worry about all of that.

He sat up turning his body to face you before his palm came to rest upon your cheek in a gentle caress. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, tugging it down gently before he leaned in and kissed you sweetly. “Now go on and cool off, Chickadee.”

You kissed him back with the same amount of sweetness before you pulled away and gave his nose a light boop. His face scrunched inwards before he reached around and gave your ass a light and playful swat that sent you giggling as you rose to your feet.

You shot him a seductive wink before you raced down to the river's edge, kicking up a cloud of dirt with your boots.

Joel watched from afar with a hooded gaze as you stripped down from your skirts and blouse followed by your unlaced boots. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when your one boot wouldn’t give right away and you nearly tripped before finally getting it off. He kept watch as you dove into the crystal clear waters and reameraged moments later.

He reached into his pack, pulling out an apple and pocket knife while you splashed around like a kid on Christmas. He cut off a small slice before biting it off on the edge of the knife, chewing thoughtfully as he leaned back against the sturdy tree.

When we get to California..I’m going to marry her.

He didn’t want to end your fun so soon..but it was time to get moving again. He brought his thumb and forefinger into his mouth, whistling to let you know that it was time to pack up.

You had been floating peacefully on your back with your eyes closed when you heard his whistle that immediately tore you from your daydream state.

He was just about to stand up from where he was resting against the tree when you emerged from the river. You reminded him of a goddess. Bare, beautiful, skin sprinkled in water droplets that were kissed by the sun. You looked unreal, and he was the luckiest man alive.

“C’mon, Chickadee. We gotta head out.” He called for you when you were within earshot.

“I’m coming!” You bent down to gather up your clothes before the idea struck you. “Can I dry off first, please?”

He let out a grumbled sigh before he ultimately nodded his head in agreement. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt..

“Jus’ till ya dry off, doll.”

With your clothes and boots gathered up in your bare arms, you approached him casually, setting everything down on your nearby saddle while he watched you with piqued curiosity.

“I was thinking about you out there..laying on my back and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin..” you trailed off.

“Is that so? Hmm..what were you thinkin’ about, Chickadee?” His eyes slowly trailed down your bare body. From the swell of your breasts, down your tummy and thighs and what lay between them.

“Want to take a guess, cowboy?” You asked teasingly.

His brow raised as a grin tugged along the corner of his lips. A game is what you were playing, and he was the willing participant.

“Based on your tone, I’m gonna guess it’s got somethin’ to do with..my cock?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner while his hand casually came to rest between his own thighs. Oh, he was playing alright.

“Mmm..perhaps I was thinkin’ of ridin’ your cock right under the shade of this tree..but that would be too obvious, Joel.” Your eyes drifted down to where his hand was before the traveled down the expanse of his strong thighs and ending at the toe of his leather boots.

He caught onto your drift almost immediately and you saw his pupils begin to darken. “Y’wanna ride my boot? Is’that it? Well, ain’t you a filthy thing, Chickadee. You wanna get ‘em all shined up for me? Drag that sweet cunt of yours over them?”

His eyes stayed locked on yours in a challenging stare while he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the growing tension.

“I do, sir. I really, really, really want to ride your boot.” You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks because never in your wildest dreams did you expect to take part in debauchery such as this.

“On your knees then, girl. Kiss ‘em for me.” He fell right into character with a flip of a switch.

You found yourself lowering onto your knees without a care in the world about the dirt while you bent down over his boots, pressing a kiss to the leather, dragging your tongue down the stitched seam.

“That’s it, doll. Get ‘em nice and shined up for me.” He said while popping the button on his pants open and pulling his cock free from the confines.

“You gonna touch yourself while I ride your boot, mister?” You were sitting upright again before you crawled closer, letting your hands rest along his thighs as you positioned yourself right above his left boot. The imprint of your kiss had already begun to dry from the scorching heat.

“Yeah, doll. I’m gonna fist my cock while you ride my boot like the dirty Chickadee that you are.” He spat into his palm before he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock just as you lowered yourself over the expanse of his boot, taking your lip between your teeth when you dragged your clit right across the smooth leather.

“Fuuck me. Ain’t that a sight. Look at you, fuckin’ filthy girl. S’feel good, Chickadee?”

You rolled your hips forward slowly at the rate that he was pumping his fist. A soft whimper slipped past your lips while your eyes stayed locked on his.

“Feels so good, mister. So—so good.” You moaned freely with each steady roll of your hips, chasing that high. Nothing would ever compare to Joel’s cock. You knew this, he knew this, and you also were aware that this little game would only last so long.

And then he watched you lose yourself completely on his boot with each roll and grind of your hips against the dampened leather. Crying out his name, nails digging into his covered thighs, head thrown back, tears nearly flooding your eyes.

He had the same sense of urgency and realization that nothing would ever compare to the warm hug of your pussy around his cock. That’s when the game ended as his strong arms came to lift you into his lap by your thighs. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss filled with intermingled moans and teeth clashing together when he finally slipped into your warmth.

California could wait a little longer, he wanted to savor this moment for as long as it lasted because now he had the love that he had been dreaming of all his life. Right here in his arms, cock buried to the hilt under the shade of this very tree. Right here with his Chickadee.

That’s the kinda love I’ve been dreaming of

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[nahoney22]

Happy Birthday 🌊

🫧 pairings: Hunter X Female!Reader

word count: 1.8k

prompts: none

A/N: For a special someone for their birthday. Happy birthday @photogirl894 ♥️ 🎂

It’s your first birthday without your loved ones nearby, however Hunter has a little surprise in store for you.

warnings: Safe for work, Fluff, Light Angst, Reader Missing Family, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, The Batch Being the Sweetest, Present Giving, Surprise Birthday Celebrations, Female Reader, Not Proofread.

“So, I heard it’s someone’s birthday today?”

The voice is like a warm caress, and you spin around in the pilot’s chair, a soft smile already forming. Hunter stands in the doorway, his arms crossed, and that ever-gracious smirk playing on his lips. Stars above, how could one man be so effortlessly handsome and charming at the same time? His presence alone sends your heart into a wild rhythm.

You try to hide your bashfulness, a difficult feat given Hunter's heightened senses. You often wonder if he can hear the way your heart skips a beat whenever he talks to you, or if he can sense the blood rushing to your cheeks. “Hmm, I’m not too sure,” you say, pinching your chin in mock contemplation. “Remind me again?”

He chuckles, a sound that feels like a soft embrace, and walks towards you, placing a caring hand on your shoulder. “Happy birthday, trooper.”

His touch sends a warmth coursing through you, and you grin, though he quickly notices the smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His brows furrow slightly, a sign of his genuine concern. “Something the matter?”

“It’s just… it’s my first birthday without seeing my friends and family, so it feels a bit, I don’t know, different? I guess.”

It had been almost a year since you last visited your home planet. Being a medic for the squad meant you were always on call, patching up the boys and tending to Omega’s scraped knees. You loved your job and the Batch, especially one member more than the others. But celebrating your birthday without your other loved ones felt tougher than you had anticipated.

Hunter moves to the chair beside you, using his foot to gently spin you around to face him. “I guess it would be quite strange,” he acknowledges, leaning forward. “But we will make the day work, huh? Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, and Echo want to take you out for breakfast this morning. Maybe go for a walk on the beach too.”

The thought of the boys offering to take you out for breakfast is sweet, but you can’t help the slight disappointment. “And you and Omega don’t want to come too?”

He shifts, suddenly looking a bit nervous. “Oh, erm, I just have to do some data logs and boring stuff, and Omega said her stomach hurts this morning.”

In an instant, you panic and stand. “What? Is she okay? Why didn’t she tell me?” You start to walk away to find her, your medical and nurturing instincts kicking in. But you’re stopped by a gentle hand grabbing hold of yours.

A warmth spreads up your fingers as you look down at the hand intertwined with yours, then up to the gentle eyes they belong to. “She’s okay, just sleeping.”

Your breath catches in your throat, unsure how to respond. Why was he holding your hand? Why hadn’t he let go yet? “O-Oh, I see.”

He smiles, another one of those smiles that often turn your knees to jelly. “I’m sure you’re going to have a great birthday,” he says fondly.

Your heart swells, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. Hunter’s presence, his touch, his words—they all have a way of making you feel seen and cherished in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. You had liked him for the longest of time and you had a somewhat naive hunch he felt something for you too. You had seen the way he acted with women before and it was never the way he was with you. You didn’t want to get your hopes up but you couldn’t miss the way he looked at you.

Hunter’s hand lingers in yours, neither of you seeming to want to let go. The warmth of his touch sends a gentle thrill through you, and you find yourself completely lost in his eyes. Memories flood back: the countless times he had stood by your side, his protective nature, the soft, caring words he had for you after tough missions, and the gentle way he always made sure you were okay.

He steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel your heart pounding in your chest, breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. His face is inches from yours, and you can almost feel his breath when—

The moment is shattered as Wrecker bursts into the room, his loud, jovial voice breaking the spell. “Hey! Happy birthday!” he bellows, his enthusiasm filling the cockpit.

You and Hunter quickly pull apart, standing back as though caught doing something you shouldn’t. Wrecker’s massive arms envelop you in a bear hug, lifting you off your feet momentarily.

“Wrecker!” you laugh, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering warmth from the almost-moment with Hunter.

The rest of the Batch filters in, each offering their birthday wishes. Echo’s smile is warm and genuine, Crosshair gives a nod of acknowledgment, and Tech adjusts his goggles as he speaks. “We should get going before all the good food spots are full. I’ve done extensive research and compiled a list of optimal breakfast locations.”

You chuckle and nod, grateful for the distraction. As you prepare to leave, you give a shy wave to Hunter. He returns it with a nod and a smile that makes your heart flutter once again. Once you��re gone, Omega peeks into the cockpit, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Is she gone?”

Hunter nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Let’s get to work.”

Breakfast is a yummy affair, filled with so much laughter juice nearly snorted out your nose at one point. With Tech having done his research, he led you all to a place where you could indulge in a variety of good dishes—crispy hash browns, fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, and a savoury omelette loaded with anything topping you could think of. Wrecker, of course, devours his food with unabashed enthusiasm, while Tech critiques the menu with a meticulous eye.

After breakfast as promised, the group of you heads to the beach. The sun is warm on your skin but a little too hot later on which meant you had to buy a straw hat by one of the nearby stalls, and the gentle waves lap at the shore.

As you lay on the sand, you watched on as the boys engage in light-hearted banter which soon lead to Wrecker and Crosshair ending up in a playful scuffle, each trying to push the other into the ocean. Their laughter is infectious, and you can’t help but join in, feeling a lightness you hadn’t in a while. But, the longing for your family was still there.

As the day winds down, Echo announces we need to return to the ship.

As soon as you step inside you’re greeted by the sight of decorations, a table laden with gifts and, and the people you love most in the galaxy. Your friends and family. Along with the Batch and Omega, who beams at you with pride.

Emotion wells up within you, your eyes watering instantly and you rush to your loved ones, pulling them into a tight embrace. “I can’t believe you guys are here!”

Echo approaches Hunter, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Good job.” They both watch you wipe the tears of happiness from your eyes.

That evening, the festivities of your party slowly start to dwindle. The campfire that was made crackles gently, casting a warm glow on those around you.

After the games, laughter, and a satisfying barbecue, presents are exchanged. You always felt shy when receiving gifts and today was no different. Though you were very grateful.

Tech hands you a crafted gadget, its sleek design and functionality immediately appealing to your practical side. Crosshair, true to his stoic nature, offers a high-quality knife with a subtle smile, acknowledging its usefulness. You weren’t much of a fighter but maybe you could ask Hunter to teach you one day…

Echo gives you a beautifully bound journal with a smooth leather cover and crisp pages of flimsi. He knew you liked to make notes on your adventures and this just adds a more personal touch. Wrecker’s gift, a massive stuffed animal, brings out delighted laughter from you though the others weren’t too impressed with where it’ll fit on the ship.

As the night settles, Hunter catches your eye from across the fire and nods towards the lake. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Curiosity piqued, you nod and follow him away from the glowing campfire and the soft chatter of your friends. The path to the lake is softly illuminated by the last hues of twilight. The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving a trail of purples, pinks, and deep blues in the sky, reflected beautifully on the still waters of the lake.

The environment is serene, with the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze and the distant sound of creatures stirring. The cool air carries the subtle scent of pine and freshwater, wrapping around you. Hunter walks beside you, his presence steady and calming which is what you always felt.

“Thank you for the surprise,” you say, your voice soft and sincere. “I promise not to ugly cry again.”

Hunter chuckles softly, the sound blending harmoniously with the natural ambiance. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Are you wondering where your gift from me is?”

“Not at all, you already did so much!” You say quickly, hoping you hadn’t come across ungrateful at all. But he reassures you as you both come to a stop, away from the view of the others.

“It was nothing, you do so much for us so it’s only fair I do something in return.. but I do actually have a gift for you.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a small box. Opening it, he reveals a stunning bracelet, an intricate mix of different shades of blue stones, woven together in a delicate design on a silver band. The twilight’s remaining light catches on the bracelet, making it shimmer softly.

You’re momentarily speechless, the beauty of the bracelet and the thoughtfulness of Hunter’s gesture leaving you stunned. Smiling gently, Hunter takes your hand, his touch warm, and slips the bracelet onto your wrist. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you whisper, emotion thick in your voice.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Hunter replies, his voice filled with warmth. He pauses, his eyes holding yours with a quiet intensity. “But maybe we could finish what was almost started this morning?” His tone hopeful

You didn’t expect him to bring it up again, in fact you momentarily forgot about it, but his words send a thrill through you. You nod, a shy smile playing on your lips. Hunter steps closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The touch is electric, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

The kiss is soft, slow, and tender, a sweet exploration of emotions that were long felt, but never spoken. The galaxy around you fades, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, timeless moment.

When you finally part, Hunter’s eyes are filled with warmth and affection. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Your heart swells with happiness, and you realise that this birthday, surrounded by love is one you will cherish forever.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet t @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez

[1800titz]

KINKTOBER 2024 ★₁₈₊

...the titz take

★₁₈₊

if you would like to be tagged in any particular piece, please read the warnings and join the tag list here (please make sure your age is visible in your bio). (tag list: closed).

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ. ᴏᴄᴛ 5. > MASK KINK > purge au > stalker!harry/dubcon/praise/rough sex/spit kink/leather kink

ᴋɴᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʟᴀᴍɪᴀ. ᴏᴄᴛ 22. > DEGRADATION & PRAISE > witch x witch hunter au > enemies/rough sex/dom-sub undertones/pussy slapping (light)

ʀᴏʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ. ᴏᴄᴛ 31. > PET PLAY (soft) > couple’s costume gone wild > soft dom/dumbification/praise/dom-sub undertones

[dollychic]

main 4 w reader that will sleep anywhere but on the bed with them after fight? For like a week (Doesn’t talk to them either unless they apologize then like after 2 days after that they act like nothing happened)

ˋ•*⁀➷ 𝑺𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒘/ 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 (𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕) ❥

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Gon Freecss, Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika Kurta, Leorio Paradinight

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Fluff, slight angst

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: none

𝑨/𝑵: Sorry for not updating in a while but Thank youuu so much for requesting!! <3 (this is wack and took me longer than expected)

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . ✧ ˚ 　· 　 .

—𝑮.𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒄𝒔𝒔 ｡･*˚:✧｡

If Gon wasn’t stubborn enough, there was you.

You originally planned a date both of you could enjoy while watching the sunset near strip of beach. You got ready, all excited until your boyfriend (who was some place else) decided to send a message saying he was gonna have to cancel for his own reasons being, not able to make it in time.

You weren’t gonna let that happen were you?

Texting him back, you typed that if he isn’t home by the time you both were supposed to leave, you weren’t going to talk to him. Childish behavior? Definitely. But even after planning it for so long, you weren’t gonna let him ruin the night. No doubt about it.

little did you know... you did end up not talking to him. In better words— ignoring him.

The black haired boy knew he messed up the second he came home to find you no where. He tried to get ahold of you, texting and calling only to realize that you were staying at your parents house. avoiding him.

2 days went by without seeing him and slowly, you were losing hope that he would apologize. You finally decided to be mature about the situation and come back home since you’ve grown tired of acting upset towards him. When you did, the first thing you saw was a big bouquet of flowers, and goodies being surrounded by balloons.

You smiled and looked over at the boy, standing nervously. “I know I messed up so I wanted to make up for it! I hope you can forgive me”

you rushed towards him, arms on either side before you enveloped him in a hug. “Ofc I can baby”

A faint but clear whisper escaped your lips. “I love you”

“I love you too”

—𝑲.𝒁𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒚𝒄𝒌 ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ

It all started over chocolate.

One afternoon, you came home with the joy of finally getting to eat the chocolate you’ve been craving for all day. You opened the cabinet, only to be seen with the treat gone.

There’s only one person that lives with you so you quickly sprinted to the room you shared with the Silverette.

Entering, you see a body under the covers. “Did you eat my chocolate?“

No response.

“KILLUA!”

A groggy noise was heard from the boy that was now waking up from his nap. “Stop yelling!”

“Then answer me” you asked annoyed. not even 2 seconds pass by and you didn’t bother to wait for an answer as you stomped away.

you left the house once again, making it to your car as you went to the store to get chocolate for your self. Your mood lightened up much more after getting your snack.

Realizing it was getting late, you were deciding whether to head home or stay some place else. You didn’t wanna see the Brat’s face again- Not after you specifically told him to not eat your chocolate, yet he did.

Making up your mind, you decided to stay inside your car for the night. It was now 7:36 p.m and you know that the area around you wasn’t the best place to camp at. You went home and parked the car in the driveway only to stay inside of it.

You didn’t even get to shut your eyes when your boyfriend suddenly appeared outside of your car, tapping on the window.

“Get inside” his muffled words reaching your ears.

You ignored him.

“Y/N”

No response.

“Stop being so difficult!”

You turned on the car to lower down the window at eye level. “Then you shouldn’t have eaten my chocolate..”

He looked at you with a black stare. You don’t know what was going through his head but you sure were being made fun of when a chuckle escaped his lips. “Come on, get inside I’m not letting you sleep in there”

You decided to give in, only cause of the discomfort your body was going through.

“I’m still not sleeping with you.” You pouted as you made your way behind him walking towards the entrance of the house.

“Sure you won’t”

—

Later that night, you ended up in bed with him.

—𝑲.𝑲𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒂 ₊˚ʚ ₊˚✧

When you got devastating news that some one had died in your family, you’ve been grieving in silence not wanting to speak up about it.

Kurapika took in notice and started worrying. Sooner or later, he finally spoke up on your sudden concealment. “Hey Love I’ve noticed you haven’t been your usual self lately.. are you okay?”

You looked away from the TV to Kurapika’s figure that stood not to far away from yours. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you finally answered. “Y-yeah I’m okay…”

Oh but he knew you weren’t. “You know you’re open to tell me anything right?” and without a response, you stood up and walked to grab your belongings to leave. “Y/n!-“

Slam!

The blonde male felt defeated in trying to get you to open up. He really did try his best to be there for you but you always turned him away.

—

It’s been over 2 days. 2 days and Kurapika has been trying to contact you. phone calls, texts, emails— anything to get a response.

That night you left his apartment to go to yours, tears streamed down your face. You felt guilty with how you left him in such a rude manner with no reply, yet you really couldn’t speak up on such a sensitive topic without him seeing you cry.

You felt like he would view you as a weak person and always find you putting your own problems on him to fix. You didn’t want that.

As you got up to use the bathroom, a sudden noise was heard from opposite of your main door.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Your footsteps quickened to the front door, opening it to see— Kurapika..?

“I’ve been worried sick.” He wrapped you in a tight hug. You didn’t have time to return the gesture when he pulled back so quickly, “tell me baby, are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Kura-“

“been trying to get ahold of you, I thought you got kidnapped!”

“Kurapika-“

“Come here” he hugged you again a little bit tighter than before.

“Kurapika I’m fine!” You pulled away lightly to face him directly. “Its just— something came up”

“Oh. Do you not want me to know? Is it personal?” The blonde male pondered. A smile tugged at your lips due to his concern. “It is. I would rather not talk about yet.. if that’s okay”

“Yes ofc baby” he brought you closer to caress your head. “Can you come back home? I really miss you..” this caused a giggle to escape your lips “yeah i will, I missed you too”

—𝑳.𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 ✧˖°࿐

It’s already been 3 days since you last slept with leorio. The reason being over him coming home late at 2 in the morning after a boys night all drunk and drowsy.

You would always be okay if he came home late, but only if he would let you know through text. This time— he didn’t and it pissed you off.

That same night, you slept on the couch upset, not speaking up on your feelings. You tried to avoid him, expecting him to know why you were distressed the last few days. No words being exchanged, only him trying to get a sentence to come out of you.

At first, he didnt know what you were upset about and kept begging you to come back and sleep with him. It only irritated you more that he didn’t remember.

Since you’ve been sleeping in discomfort you finally decided to remind him in some sort of way that would make him apologize.

You were in the kitchen, finishing up the dirty dishes when your boyfriend came back home from work. Hearing the door slam shut, you finally decided to speak up. “Leorio-”

“Baby I’m so sorry!” He broke you off your sentence. Did he finally realize what he did? “I completely forgot to text you that night and there’s no excuse.” You turned around to face your boyfriend when suddenly, you were enveloped in a hug. Arms wrapped around your torso, circles being rubbed by his thumbs on your lower back.

“Is that why you wouldn’t sleep with me?” He pulled away, still having you in his grasp while looking down at you. “maybe..”

By the tone in your voice, he was relieved that he finally found out what was bothering you. “I’m sorry again baby, I promise it won’t happen again.”

You smiled at his genuine words and finally hugged him properly. “Can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out” you giggled.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . ✧ ˚ 　· 　 .

𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒆! 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑹𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! ᥫ᭡

[shalscumbunny]

Trapped | Shalnark x Female!Reader

Summary: And you are there, again and as always, no matter where you go, who you are with, how much you hide, he will always find you, you are trapped by his side... forever.

Pairing: Shalnark X Female!Reader

Warnings: Threatened Reader, Manipulative Reader, Forced Consent, Cock Sucking, Deep Throat, Sex in a Public Place, Mentions of Possible Murder Attempts, Degradation

Author’s note: I always mention it in all my writings in English, but better safe than sorry, English is not my native language so it is very likely to find many mistakes and also that I know practically nothing about writing “X character and Y/N”

Sites: AO3

"You know... if you had been a little smarter you could have run away" Shalnark said smiling, pressing your body harder against the wall.

The train began to leave the station towards its destination, your look of desperation watching as the wheels moved.

"Oh, if only you had gone up a little earlier, I wouldn't have stopped you." Shalnark spoke in that happy tone he usually had.

But after living with him for so long you knew it was a false tone, you smell the anger inside him, probably that's why you haven't dared to look him in the eyes, just as you smell his anger, he smells your fear.

"Look at me when I talk to you" he ordered you in a cold tone.

"I don't want to" You refused now looking at the floor.

"Oh, Y/N. You're so cute" Shalnark grabbed your chin making you raise your head and look him in the eyes "A little bitch like you is in no position to want anything right now."

You gulped in fear, the words didn't come out of your mouth, you saw an opportunity to flee and obviously you took it, however you didn't know how to take advantage of it in the right way, now you were there, next to him again... all your effort went to shit.

Shalnark clung closer to you, your chin hurt from how strong his grip was, his other hand gripped your hip, his nails digging painfully into your flesh making you shiver.

"Little bitches like you are like that" Shalnark lowered his face a little to the level of your ear, kissing it and letting out a puff of hot breath "They take the best of good men like me and then run away without warning"

You tried to distance yourself, intimidated and nervous, but apparently that made him angry, although he didn't show it.

"What happened, Y/N?" Shalnark looked into your eyes. "You were being such a good girl for me, you were being so good that I was considering giving you a couple benefits, but you had to screw it all up"

You wanted to try to say something, but someone interrupted you.

"Gentlemen, is something wrong?" The station guard interrupted you

For a while that clouded your mind, your mouth immediately opened to ask for help, but a strong squeeze on your hip was like a slap to react.

Shalnark broke away from you and turned to the station guard.

"Everything is fine" Shalnark spoke to him cordially.

Your mind reacted, Shalnark and life were giving you a chance, life gave you this officer as another chance to escape, you knew it wasn't to ask him for help, you knew Shalnark and he was capable of killing the poor man in seconds, a man who probably had a family, maybe parents, a wife and children who loved and needed him; but maybe those seconds it took Shalnark to kill the guard would let you escape...

On the other hand, Shalnark was also giving you a chance to have some mercy on you.

"I'm just talking to my girlfriend, we wanted to buy some tickets to travel another day" Shalnark explained to the guard.

If you supported Shalnark to dispel the officer's doubts... he would be more merciful when thinking about a punishment for you... he wouldn't make you suffer... too much.

You gulped and took Shalnark's hand, trying to soften the fear on your face.

"We both have vacations from our jobs, so we wanted to take a little getaway" You argued in favor of Shalnark, grabbing his arm in a smiling manner.

The guard looked at you somewhat doubtfully due to the sudden change in your expression, however, he preferred to believe you to avoid any problems.

"Okay... If you need to see the travel offers, you can go to the station reception" The station guard left you alone, walking in unison to the next train leaving.

You let out a sigh of relief as he left, before you felt Shalnark's hand on your shoulder pulling you close to him.

You looked up somewhat fearfully but his expression was calmer as both of his hands took his face.

"Good girl, you did well." Your shoulders relaxed slightly "It seems that pretty little mouth of yours can also say smart things"

You felt his hand pull you, your mind momentarily clouded by your thoughts, so you just let him guide you as you walked.

For now... you chose a false peace... although you preferred that to carrying the death of a person on your conscience.

When you reacted, you were in an empty alley of the station, dark, narrow and far from the rest.

"W-what are we doing here...?" You asked nervous and confused.

"I want to see what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do" Shalnark whispered smiling, pushing you against the cold wall.

"B-but... Shal-Shalnark" You stuttered nervously and embarrassed.

"Do you really think you're in a position to deny me something? I'm going to consider lightening your punishment for being a stupid, homeless bitch only if you're obedient" Shalnark whispered in a cold tone and with that terrifying but permanent smile from ear to ear "Besides, I need it now, you've been away for a couple of weeks and my cock needs to free itself now that you're here, you have to make it up to me"

Nervous and afraid you simply knelt on the floor, you could see the bulge in his pants, you swallowed and took a deep breath.

"You're not going to play innocent now, are you?" Shalnark grabbed your hair and pressed you against his growing bulge, rubbing your face there "You're a good cocksucker, only your pretty throat is so deep for a cock like mine"

Shalnark couldn't help but delight in your bright, fearful eyes, with that pathetic expression while the bulge of his cock massaged your pretty face.

You half managed to overcome your embarrassment and opened Shalnark's pants, you knew that if you did it right, he would have more consideration for you, but you hated feeling this denigrated and dirty.

You took willpower and pulled down his boxers, watching as his erect member was released, the red tip releasing precum.

With a smile Shalnark took his cock, putting it on top of your face sadistically, his balls a little under your chin and the glans on your forehead.

"Stick out your tongue darling, like the cute cocksucker you are" Shalnark spoke in a mocking tone, taking his cell phone out of his jacket pocket.

You stuck out your tongue in embarrassment, watching the camera point at you, listening to the sound of each click every time the cell phone took a photo of you, completely humiliated.

"I'll put it as my wallpaper, so I'll remember the first time I made you suck my cock in a train station" He said happily as if it were a memorable moment "Now open your mouth like a good girl"

You opened your mouth between small tears, while his cock was inserted, you felt the salty taste and it took a little for your mouth to receive it wide, but Shalnark's gaze on you reflected superiority, sadism and lust.

His hand caught a fistful of your hair making you swallow deeper, his glans lodged aggressively in your hot, narrow throat.

You gagged and let out choking gasps as Shalnark moaned in pleasure.

"Breathe through your nose honey, a couple of weeks can't make you miss practice" Shalnark said sadistically going deeper, his heavy balls hitting your chin and his blonde hairs tickling your reddened nose "Unless you've gotten this far in your little escape by doing these kinds of favors for other guys, after all you're a little bitch, you love to wag your tail at everyone, that's why I've got you locked up"

You gagged more at the first thrust deep into your throat, tears running down your cheeks and strings of your saliva beginning to wet Shalnark's balls.

"A dumb little brain like yours doesn't usually have good ideas after all" Shalnark gasped at the hot sensation of your throat "Your stupid little head forgets that only a big, thick cock like mine knows how to discipline that slut throat that you have"

The fist in your hair was harder and the thrusts were slow and deep, making you cry and gasp, you felt his words sink into your head.

"Yeah, maybe that's it, you've been sucking other men's ridiculous little cocks and that's why you've forgotten how to suck a real cock" Shalnark pulled his cock out of your mouth, using it to slap your dumb face and paint it with spit and precum

You felt so dirty and humiliated, you looked at the lust and contempt in his eyes and you couldn't help but whimper, you hated yourself... you hated yourself so much...

You wanted to run away and at the same time when he spoke to you and approached you, you didn't know how to react, maybe that's why he treated you like that, like a brainless fool, because you acted like that in front of him.

His words hurt you, but you ended up believing them sometimes...

"No..." You tried to defend yourself in vain.

"Are you going to defend yourself? Well, do it. You know the only way to do it, show me that you are good at receiving my cock and I will believe that you have not been walking around like a slut sucking other men" Shalnark caressed your face guiding you to his glans again

Without any choice you began to lick and suck, your lips going up and down around his circumference, releasing small tears from the pain of him pulling so much on your now messy hair.

You listened his gasps and grunts, as he moaned your name, you looked into his eyes as you gave his red, swollen glans a good suck.

You went down to his balls licking them as precum dripped onto your face.

"Good girl..." Shalnark stopped pulling your hair and caressed your face as he rested his cock on your cheek "Could you take a "deep throat," honey?"

You tried to think about it nervously but when you felt his warm hands caress your lips your brain melted.

"Of course, you can, because you are a good girl, a good girl for me" his fingers pulled your chin down making your mouth open "Your punishment will be easy, only if you obey me, my love"

After conditioning you, you just nodded, whimpering as his thick cock jammed into your throat.

"Shhhh... just like that" Shalnark complimented you in a moan starting to push hard into your throat.

Shalnark's cock fit hard into your throat, it felt like heaven for him, it was a magical sensation, not only that you were sucking him, but that feeling of power he had now, the fear and slight excitement with which you saw him. It was sublime.

Your throat was so narrow and it gave a tight, warm welcome to his cock in need of affection, YOUR affection.

After several minutes his milky cum filled your throat and mouth, he obviously made you swallow it and smiled cruelly at your dazed and tearful expression.

He pulled out of your mouth and along with his cock came small strings of combined saliva and semen.

"Adorable" Shalnark laughed wiping your lips with his thumb and putting it in your mouth then you instinctively sucked on it.

Shortly after, he adjusted his pants and helped you stand up, caressing your hair a little and kissing your face affectionately.

Shalnark pulled your hand and took you to the car, he left you sitting in the passenger seat, closed your door and sat in the driver's seat.

"I'll think about your punishment when we get home" Shalnark said, giving you his jacket and caressing your face "But since you've behaved well now, it will be less severe"

You saw the car key turn and heard the engine start, you looked at everything around you still disoriented, but there was resignation in your eyes, you knew there would never be an escape.

"If you run away again" You flinched at the painful grip on your thigh "I'm not going to fuck your throat in an alley anymore, wherever I find you I'll kill the people around you and I'm going to fuck you right there and it won't just be your throat."

You looked down at your thighs in fear and nodded.

"Everything I do, I do because I love you" Shalnark said sweetly, pulling your head to him and kissing your hair, after comb it a little he started to drive with his eyes on the road "Do you understand, my love?"

"Y-yes, honey" You said with a fearful smile.

Thanks for reading this shit 🤍