#lyra: but there's still no food... :<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[yuesya]

The Pier Point Shopping Street is always a bustling hub of activity. As a well-known landmark of Pier Point and an attraction for visitors to the IPC’s seat of power, the shops lining the sprawling commercial district truly live up to the reputation of being a dazzling center of wealth. Food, drinks, clothing. Entertainment at its finest –and everything in-between.

There have been many who’ve lost themselves to the glamour of these gilded streets, luxuriating in the allure of satisfaction and gratification stacked upon gleaming credits.

The young Halovian girl sitting across the table from him in the high-class restaurant does not lack for wealth. Nonetheless, she is not one to consciously indulge in materialistic desires… save for her love of sharp weaponry, perhaps.

Aventurine smiles. “It’s been awhile hasn’t it, Lyra?”

Soft white hair, wide blue eyes. Contrary to her soft and seemingly-harmless appearance, though, Lyra of the Oak Family is anything but harmless. Aventurine would know, considering the manner in which they met each other for the first time.

“It’s been awhile,” Lyra agrees. Then, “Is there something wrong?”

“Wow, it’s always straight to the point with you, isn’t it?” Aventurine blinks, and laughs. Something inside his chest sinks helplessly at the girl’s immediate perceptiveness –for all her awkwardness navigating social niceties, Lyra could also be shockingly observant at the same time. “… What gave me away?”

His voice is careless, flippant. Teasing, the way it would be for a light joke. Aventurine maintains the expression of a smile unwaveringly.

Lyra shrugs, a non-response that Aventurine somehow finds himself automatically understanding anyways. Just a feeling. You don’t make a habit of inviting me to Pier Point.

Aventurine lets out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” He straightens, and bats his eyes winsomely. “Y’know, if you ever stepped inside a casino someday, I bet you could–”

“My brother says no,” Lyra responds without batting an eye, and frowns lightly. “… Aventurine, what is this about, really? Do you need me to kill someone?”

This girl. The blond man huffs, wondering what it says about his own mental state that he actually feels a surge of fondness at this offer from her.

“We’ve got to talk about your habit of spontaneously offering to kill things for people at the drop of a hat,” he tells her. “Have you tried buying presents instead?”

Lyra tilts her head, wings fluttering in accompanying confusion with the motion. “… But I don’t offer to kill for just anyone?”

“… No, I don’t need you to kill anyone for me,” Aventurine sighs. For someone who could be so astonishingly perceptive, she could also be very obtuse. “It’s rather the opposite, really.”

Lyra stills, making the connection in a heartbeat. “There’s someone you don’t want me to kill?”

“Oswaldo Schneider,” Aventurine confirms, continuing to carefully maintain his perfectly pleasant smile.

Lyra takes one look at him and frowns anyways. Then, proving that she truly does know Aventurine a little too well to be good for either of them, “This is an order from the IPC?”

It is.

Aventurine holds no love for Oswaldo Schneider. Even putting aside the bad blood between their respective departments within the IPC… the man had been involved in the negotiations that had taken place on Sigonia-IV, which eventually led to what was now known as the Katica-Avgin Extinction Event. And Aventurine –as far as he knew– was the only survivor from that hell, a young boy who’d been captured by slavers and sold to the highest bidder.

Now… now, he was a slave to the IPC. Which wasn’t so bad, sometimes; nowadays, Aventurine was rich enough to never want for any materialistic goods again. But this did not change the fact that the IPC owned him.

The IPC wanted Oswaldo Schneider to live, and the IPC also knew that Aventurine was friends with the girl who’d nearly killed their rising head of the Marketing Development Department. The next course of action, then, was obvious.

Negotiate. Convince her to stand down.

Diamond had been the one to pass on the orders to him. An additional deal had also been brokered between the Marketing Development and Strategic Investment Departments, and there was a certain sense of vindication in seeing Oswaldo depart from Pier Point for ‘business’ just as Lyra arrived. Vindication… and also frustration.

But, this isn’t something that Aventurine can involve Lyra in.

(… ‘Can’t,’ or ‘won’t?’)

“One of Oswaldo Schneider’s ‘projects’ nearly resulted in my sister being killed by a stray bullet to the throat,” Lyra says eventually, blue eyes focused unerringly on Aventurine. “… I won’t go out of my way to hunt him down. But if I come across him, then don’t expect me to show mercy.”

That’s a lifetime ban from Penacony for Oswaldo, then.

“The higher ups should accept that,” Aventurine nods. “And what do you want in exchange for it?”

The look that Lyra gives him is one of uncomprehending confusion. Inwardly, Aventurine despairs.

“… If it were any other executive sitting in front of you right now, you would’ve very well walked away from this meeting with nothing.”

Lyra’s expression flattens into something unimpressed. “I’m not dealing with the IPC. I only agreed because you’re asking me.”

“And I’m negotiating on behalf of the IPC,” Aventurine reminds her.

“So the agreement stands in place only as long as you do not change your mind, regardless of what the IPC thinks,” Lyra shrugs. As if it’s nothing, the power and influence that she’s handing over to him so easily with this one act –if Aventurine is the one with the final say, then that’s another chip in his hands. Another card up his sleeve. Another point for him to gamble with, and Aventurine is nothing if not a consummate gambler.

“… So again I ask you, what do you want for it?”

Nothing in this world comes for free. No one does anything for no reason.

Lyra blinks, raising a finger to tap at her chin in thought. Aventurine studies her carefully.

“… I want dinner,” she finally says. “I’m hungry.”

…

Aventurine is no stranger to taking gambles. But when it comes to Lyra…

All, or nothing.

(… Which one is it? Really, which one is it?)

[sixeyesonathiel]

WHEREVER YOU WANT IT, BABY, I’M TAKING YOU THERE!

↳ being married to gojo satoru means never knowing peace. or underwear.

4.4k words of domestic filth inspired from that one tiktok audio

cw: light degradation, praise kink, mild dacryphilia, food play (whipped cream, batter), dry humping, mild exhibitionism, marking (hickeys, biting), mild overstimulation, explicit language, 18+ only, minors DNI.

a/n : made a version with suguru for my bbg lyra here!

ON THE COUCH.ᐟ

you’re sunk into the couch, legs tucked under the plush throw you’ve had since forever, the one satoru swears smells like your shampoo. the TV’s glow bathes the living room in soft blues, your favorite show’s theme song chiming through the speakers.

you’re halfway through a bowl of popcorn, kernels scattered on your lap, determined to actually watch this episode without your husband derailing you. it’s your comfort rewatch, the one you’ve seen enough times to recite the lines, but it still hits every time. you’re mid-bite when you feel him—satoru, your personal chaos agent, already sprawled across your lap like a cat who’s never heard of personal space.

his head’s nestled against your stomach, white hair a mess from where he’s been nuzzling into you, and you can feel the warmth of his breath through your—his—t-shirt, the one you stole years ago and never gave back. it’s loose, slipping off one shoulder, and his fingers are already sneaking under the hem, tracing lazy circles on your skin.

“baby,” he whines, voice low and syrupy, lips brushing just under your ribs, “you’ve seen this episode a million times. i haven’t been in your mouth once today.”

you don’t look at him, eyes glued to the screen, though you’re barely processing the dialogue. “you said you wanted to cuddle,” you mutter, popping another kernel in your mouth, trying to sound unbothered. your heart’s already picking up, traitorously aware of how his touch sparks heat under your skin.

“i am cuddling,” he insists, shifting so his body presses closer, one muscled thigh sliding between your legs, nudging them apart. you can feel the denim of his jeans through your thin shorts, rough against your inner thighs, and the warmth pooling low in your belly betrays you.

“just, y’know, with benefits.” he adds, his lips curling into a grin you don’t need to see, and he nips at the soft skin above your waistband, making you jolt.

“satoru,” you warn, but it’s weak, half-hearted, and he knows it. his hand slips higher under your shirt, fingers grazing the underside of your breast, thumb brushing just shy of where you want it. you shift, trying to focus on the TV, but he’s relentless, mouthing at your stomach now, slow, wet kisses that leave your skin tingling. “i’m watching.”

“watch, then,” he murmurs, voice a low rumble against your hip. he tugs your shorts down an inch, just enough to expose the lacy edge of your panties, and his lips find the sensitive spot right above. “don’t miss the good part, sweetheart.” his tone’s teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a hunger that makes your breath hitch.

he pulls you forward, guiding you to straddle his thigh, the sudden pressure of his leg against your core making you gasp. your hands grip the couch cushions, popcorn bowl tipping precariously, but he steadies it with a chuckle. “careful, baby. don’t waste snacks.”

his hand’s between your legs now, fingers brushing over your panties, slow and deliberate, feeling how you’re already soaking through. “fuck,” he breathes, almost to himself, eyes glinting up at you, blue and predatory in the TV’S light. “you’re this wet and still pretending you care about your show?”

he presses harder, circling your clit through the fabric, and you bite your lip, trying to stifle a moan. the characters on screen are arguing, but it’s just noise now, drowned out by the thump of your pulse.

“shh,” he whispers, when a soft whimper escapes you, his free hand tugging the throw blanket over your lap. “can’t hear the dialogue.” he’s mocking you, smirking as he slips his fingers under your panties, grazing your slick folds.

you’re grinding against his thigh without meaning to, the friction of denim and his deliberate touches pushing you closer to the edge. every time you get too loud—a gasped “satoru”or a shaky moan—he leans up, kissing you sloppy to muffle the sound, tongue sweeping into your mouth like he’s claiming it.

“quiet, baby,” he teases, pulling back to nip your bottom lip. “you’re drownin’ out the plot.”

you’re a mess already, shorts bunched around your thighs, panties pushed to the side, and he’s barely touched you. the blanket’s slipping, and he grabs it, draping it over your shoulders with a grin.

“perfect,” he says, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “you love this thing, don’t you? let’s put it to good use.” he shoves it against your mouth, pressing it there as he slides two fingers inside you, curling them deep. your muffled cry vibrates into the fabric, and he laughs, low and filthy. “fits, doesn’t it? you and your cozy shit.”

you’re trembling, thighs shaking as he works you, his thigh still pressed against you, encouraging the desperate roll of your hips. the TV’S forgotten, just a blur of colors and sounds, but he’s not done playing.

“eyes on the screen,” he orders, free hand gripping your chin to turn your head. “this is your favorite part, right? where they confess or whatever?” you can’t answer, too lost in the stretch of his fingers, the way he’s dragging you toward release. your moans are louder now, barely stifled by the blanket, and he pulls it away, tossing it aside. “fuck it,” he growls, “i wanna hear you.”

he’s bored of teasing, you can tell, because he’s moving fast now, yanking your shorts and panties down completely, leaving them tangled around one ankle.

“over the table,” he says, voice rough, and before you can process, he’s got you bent over the coffee table, popcorn bowl knocked to the floor, kernels crunching under his feet. your hands brace against the wood, cool against your flushed skin, and he’s behind you, jeans unzipped, pressing into you in one slow, deep thrust that makes you sob.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, hands gripping your hips so hard you’ll bruise. “you feel so good.” the table creaks with every snap of his hips, the tv still blaring behind you, your favorite character’s voice a mocking backdrop to the way he’s ruining you. he leans forward, chest against your back, and grabs your chin again, forcing you to look at the screen. “don’t tap out now,” he pants, thrusting harder, “this is your comfort episode, right?”

you’re crying now, tears of pleasure and overwhelm streaking your cheeks, your body shaking as he drives you toward the edge. every thrust is deliberate, hitting that spot that makes you see stars, and his voice is a constant stream of filth “love how you take me,” “you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” “gonna make you come so hard you forget this stupid show.”

you’re incoherent, babbling his name, nails scratching at the table as your orgasm hits, a white-hot wave that leaves you trembling, clenching around him.

he’s not far behind, groaning your name as he spills inside you, his thrusts slowing but not stopping, drawing out every last shudder from you. when he finally pulls out, you’re a wreck, collapsing against the table, panties still dangling off one ankle, tears smudging your mascara. he’s laughing, breathless, pulling you back onto the couch and into his lap, the throw blanket draped over you both like nothing happened.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, softer now, kissing your temple as he grabs the remote. he rewinds the episode, smirking as he feeds you a piece of popcorn and you’re too blissed out to do anything else but chew.

“guess we both got our favorites tonight,” he says, voice smug but warm, his arm tight around you. your legs are still shaking, and you nuzzle into his chest, the theme song starting again as you mumble something about hating him. he just laughs, kissing your hair, and you know you’re in for it all over again tomorrow.

IN THE BED.ᐟ

you’re drifting in that hazy space between sleep and waking, the kind where the world feels soft and warm, like you’re cocooned in a dream you don’t want to leave. the sheets are tangled around your legs, your tank top rucked up from tossing in the night, and you’re vaguely aware of the faint morning light slipping through the curtains.

but then you feel it—satoru’s weight shifting behind you, the mattress dipping as he presses closer, his bare chest warm against your back. his breath ghosts over your neck, slow and deliberate, and you know he’s been awake for a while, just waiting for you to stir.

his arm’s already slung over your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach, possessive but gentle, like he’s anchoring you to him. you feel him, hard and insistent, grinding lazily between your thighs, the thin fabric of your panties doing nothing to dull the heat. “mm,” he hums, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice thick with sleep and something hungrier.

“good morning, wife.” his words are soft, but there’s that edge to them, the one that makes your heart stutter even half-asleep.

you groan, burrowing your face into the pillow, the cool cotton a brief escape from his intensity. “satoru, it’s too early,” you mumble, voice muffled, though you’re already shifting back against him, instinctive, your body betraying your weak protest.

he only chuckles low, vibrating against your spine, and he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, slow and wet, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“never too early for you, angel,” he murmurs, his hand sliding under your tank top, fingers tracing the curve of your waist, then higher, cupping your breast with a reverence that feels almost too sweet for him. his thumb grazes your nipple, teasing it to a peak, and you suck in a breath, eyes fluttering open despite yourself.

“been dreamin’ about you,” he says, kissing down your shoulder now, each press of his lips a deliberate worship. “couldn’t help myself.”

“you’re so creepy,” you mutter, but there’s no heat in it, just a sleepy laugh as you turn your head to peek at him.

he’s already staring, blue eyes soft and molten in the dim light, his white hair a tousled halo against the pillow. he’s grinning, that lovesick, idiot grin that makes your chest ache, and you can’t help but reach back, fingers tangling in his hair. “watching me sleep again?”

“guilty,” he admits, not even pretending to be ashamed. he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he can lean over you, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. thank you for marryin’ me.” his voice cracks a little, like he means it too much, and you’re torn between rolling your eyes and melting completely.

“sappy idiot,” you whisper, but you’re smiling, pulling him closer until his lips find yours, soft and unhurried, all morning haze and warmth. t

he kiss deepens, his tongue slipping against yours, and you feel his hand slide lower, tugging your panties down just enough to press his fingers between your thighs. you gasp into his mouth, and he swallows it, murmuring, “shh, let me say good morning properly.”

it’s slow at first, all lazy touches and quiet gasps, his fingers circling your clit with a patience that’s rare for him. you’re still half-draped in sleep, your moans muffled against the pillow as he works you open, his lips trailing down your spine, leaving a constellation of hickeys where your neck meets your shoulder.

“mine,” he whispers, over and over, like a prayer, each word punctuated by a kiss, a nip, a mark that says you’re his. you’re soaking now, hips rocking against his hand, and he groans, low and needy, grinding harder against your thigh.

“satoru,” you breathe, voice shaky, and he hums, pleased, flipping you onto your back with a gentleness that makes your heart flip. you blink up at him, and he’s a vision—hair messy, eyes glowing with something too tender, too raw.

“wanna see your face, angel,” he says, grinning as he leans down, kissing your forehead, then your eyelids, then your lips again, like he can’t get enough. his fingers are still moving, slow and deliberate, and you’re trembling, legs spreading wider to give him more.

he pulls back just enough to tug your panties off completely, tossing them somewhere in the sheets, and you’re bare beneath him, tank top pushed up to expose your stomach. he kisses lower, lips grazing your navel, then the soft skin just above your core, his tongue tracing the outline of your ring finger where your wedding band glints in the light.

“fuck, i love this,” he murmurs, sucking gently on the digit, his eyes locked on yours. “love you.”

you’re a mess already, whining when he settles between your thighs, his breath hot against your slick folds. he doesn’t tease for once, just dives in, tongue lapping at you like he’s starving, and you cry out, hands fisting in his hair.

he’s relentless, sucking and licking until you’re bucking against his face, and he’s moaning like he’s the one getting off, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

“taste so good,” he pants, pulling back just to spit on you, watching it drip before diving back in, and you’re sobbing, the pleasure too much, too perfect.

when you’re close, he crawls back up, kissing you sloppy so you taste yourself on his tongue, and you feel him nudge against you, hard and leaking. “ready, baby?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours, and you nod, breathless, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he slides in slow, inch by inch, and you both groan, the stretch so good it makes your toes curl. he’s deep, filling you completely, and he stills, just for a moment, letting you adjust, his lips brushing yours.

“love you,” he says again, thrusting slow and deep, his hand finding yours, fingers interlacing. your ring glints between your joined hands, and he kisses it, then you, his eyes never leaving yours. it’s intense, the kind of eye contact that strips you bare, and you’re both pathetic, gasping messes, your nails digging into his back as he moves. “you’re so perfect,” he murmurs, voice breaking, “my wife, my everything.”

you’re coming before you realize it, a slow, rolling wave that has you clinging to him, sobbing his name, and he’s right behind you, groaning into your neck as he spills inside, his thrusts stuttering. e

he doesn’t pull out, just stays there, buried deep, his weight grounding you as you both catch your breath.

he nuzzles into your hair, rubbing slow circles on your back, and murmurs, “five more minutes. need to be home a little longer.”

you hum, content, your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady under your cheek. the sheets are a mess, your tank top’s somewhere around your collarbone, and you can feel him softening inside you, but neither of you moves. he’s drawing lazy patterns on your hip, whispering how much he loves being married to you, and you’re grinning, too in love to care about the morning chill or the fact that you’ll need to wash these sheets later.

“you’re such an idiot,” you mumble, kissing his chest, and he laughs, soft and warm, pulling you closer like he’ll never let go.

ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER.ᐟ

you’re in the zone, apron tied loosely around your waist, the kitchen alive with the hum of your favorite pop playlist—satoru’s insistence that it’s “our jam” still makes you laugh. flour dusts your hands, the air sweet with vanilla and sugar as you whisk pancake batter, the morning light streaming through the window.

you’re flipping a pancake, singing off-key to some cheesy chorus, when you feel him—satoru, your walking disaster, sneaking up behind you. his arms snake around your waist, firm chest pressing against your back, and his chin rests on your shoulder, breath hot against your neck.

“baby,” he purrs, voice low and playful, lips grazing your ear, “you’re too sexy in this apron. makes me wanna eat you instead.” his hands slide under the fabric, fingers teasing the hem of your shorts, and you feel him, already hard, grinding subtly against your ass.

you snort, not turning around, focusing on the skillet. “you ate an hour ago,” you say, voice steady despite the heat creeping up your spine. you flip the pancake, the sizzle masking the hitch in your breath as his fingers dip just under your waistband, tracing the skin there.

“not talkin’ about food,” he murmurs, licking a smear of batter off your cheek, slow and deliberate, his tongue warm and teasing.

you swat at him with the spatula, half-laughing, but it’s shaky, your body already betraying you. “satoru, i’m cooking!” you protest, but he’s undeterred, hands slipping lower, tugging your shorts down an inch to expose the lacy edge of your panties.

“and i’m starvin’,” he whines, dramatic as ever, but there’s a growl beneath it, hungry and raw. before you can argue, he’s lifting you onto the counter, effortless, like you weigh nothing. the mixing bowl wobbles, batter sloshing, and you grip his shoulders, flour-covered hands leaving white prints on his black t-shirt.

“satoru, the pancakes—” you start, but he’s already between your legs, spreading them with a nudge of his hips, his grin wicked.

“fuck the pancakes,” he says, grabbing the whipped cream can from the fridge, shaking it with a flourish. “gonna taste-test my favorite dessert.” he sprays a messy heart on your inner thigh, the cold cream making you gasp, and you laugh, shoving at his chest, but it turns into a moan as he leans down, licking it clean, his tongue slow and filthy, eyes locked on yours.

“satoru, you’re wasting it!” you scold, but your voice cracks, your hands tangling in his hair as he nips at the sensitive skin.

“waste?” he scoffs, pulling back to lick a stripe of batter off your finger, sucking it into his mouth with a low groan. “this is art.” he tugs your shorts and panties to the side, not even bothering to pull them off, and dives in, mouth hot and relentless against your core.

you cry out, head tipping back, the counter hard under you as you grip the edge, knocking over a measuring cup. flour scatters across the surface, and he’s moaning into you, like he’s the one getting off, his tongue circling your clit with a precision that makes your thighs shake.

“fuck, you taste better than anything,” he pants, pulling back just to spit on you, watching it drip before diving back in, his fingers joining now, two sliding inside you, curling deep. you’re a mess, gasping his name, your apron bunched around your waist, flour smudged on your thighs where his hands grip you.

he grabs the whipped cream again, spraying a dollop right above your clit, and licks it off with a filthy moan, the cold cream and his warm tongue a dizzying contrast that has you bucking against his face.

you’re close already, the pleasure sharp and overwhelming, but he’s not done playing. he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and grabs a spoonful of batter from the bowl, smearing it across your collarbone. “messy girl,” he teases, leaning in to lick it off, his teeth grazing your skin.

you’re whining, desperate, pulling at his shirt, and he finally gives in, unzipping his jeans and pushing inside you in one swift thrust, the stretch making you sob. the spatula clatters to the floor, and you’re clutching his shoulders, nails digging in as he moves, fast and deep, the counter creaking under you.

“mm, let’s make every mornin’ cream-filled,” he groans, licking more batter off your neck, his thrusts relentless, knocking measuring spoons and a bag of sugar to the floor. you’re incoherent, babbling his name, your legs wrapped around his waist as he drives you higher.

“so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he murmurs, grabbing your hand, sucking the flour off your fingers as he fucks you, his other hand circling your clit until you’re screaming, the orgasm hitting hard, your body shaking, clenching around him.

he’s right behind you, groaning your name as he spills inside, his thrusts slowing but not stopping, drawing out every last shudder. the oven beeps, shrill and insistent, but neither of you cares, too caught up in the messy, blissful aftermath.

you’re panting, slumped against him, the counter sticky with flour, cream, and batter, your apron a crumpled mess. he’s laughing, breathless, kissing you sloppy, his hands still roaming like he can’t stop touching you.

“fair trade,” he says, eyeing the skillet where the pancakes are charred to a crisp. you smack his chest, breathless, muttering, “you’re cleaning this.” he just grins, licking a stray bit of whipped cream off your neck, and says, “worth it.” you’re both giggling, feeding each other burnt pancake scraps, flour still smudged on his cheek, and you know the kitchen’s a disaster, but your marriage is thriving, sticky and sweet as the mess you’ve made.

ON THE STAIRS.ᐟ

you’re halfway up the stairs, each step creaking under your furious pace, the crumpled receipt in your hand like a smoking gun. “satoru, three hundred dollars on towels?” you snap, whirling around to glare at him, your voice echoing in the narrow stairwell. “towels? we have lights! electricity! a mortgage to pay!”

he’s trailing behind, hands stuffed in his sweatpants pockets, looking infuriatingly unbothered. his white hair catches the dim glow of the hallway light, and that stupid, lopsided grin is already curling his lips.

“they’re plush, baby,” he says, shrugging like he didn’t just blow a small fortune. “like you. thought it’d be romantic.” his blue eyes glint, teasing, and you can tell he’s not taking this seriously, which only makes your blood boil more.

“romantic?” you hiss, gripping the banister so hard your knuckles whiten. “we could’ve bought a new couch! or, i don’t know, groceries for a month?” you wave the receipt in his face, and he has the audacity to lean forward, squinting at it like it’s a museum exhibit. “you’re impossible!”

he steps closer, one stair below you, towering over you despite the height difference. “c’mon, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice dropping low, “you married a brat. you knew what you were gettin’ into.” his hand darts out, grabbing your ankle, and before you can react, he tugs you down a step, making you stumble into him.

“satoru!” you squeal, clutching his shoulders to keep from falling, the receipt fluttering to the floor.

“what?” he says, all mock innocence, but his hands are already sliding up your calves, rough and warm, stopping just under the hem of your shirt. “you’re cute when you’re mad.” he’s grinning now, full-on, and you want to smack him, but his chest is pressed against yours, and you can feel his heartbeat, steady and maddeningly calm.

“come here and spank me about it, then,” he murmurs, leaning in, lips brushing your jaw.

“you’re not gettin’ outta this,” you mutter, but your resolve’s crumbling, his breath hot against your skin as he kisses down your neck, slow and deliberate. your hands betray you, tangling in his hair, and he hums, pleased, nipping at your collarbone. “i’m serious, satoru—”

“so am i,” he growls, and suddenly he’s kissing you, hard and sloppy, backing you up against the railing until it digs into your spine. the stairwell’s narrow, the steps uneven under your feet, but he’s got you pinned, one hand hiking up your shirt, the other tugging your panties down just enough to bare you. “let’s see how mad you really are,” he says, pulling back to smirk, his fingers brushing between your thighs, finding you already wet. “oh, baby, really mad, huh?”

you groan, half in frustration, half in need, and he takes that as permission, lifting your leg to hook it over the next step up, the angle opening you to him. “satoru, we’re on the stairs,” you hiss, but it’s weak, your nails digging into his shoulders as he fumbles with his sweatpants, freeing himself. he’s hard, leaking, and when he presses against you, you both moan, the sound echoing in the tight space.

“fuck, you’re so perfect,” he groans, pushing in deep, one rough thrust that makes you cry out, your head tipping back against the wall.

the railing’s creaking, the stairs shifting under his weight, but he’s relentless, fast and feral, each snap of his hips driving you higher. “say you forgive me,” he growls, biting your neck, his teeth sharp enough to leave a mark. you’re sobbing, swearing at him—“you’re such an idiot”—but your body’s begging for more, hips rocking to meet his.

“never,” you gasp, but it’s a lie, and he knows it, laughing breathlessly as he sucks on your fingers, moaning around them like they’re candy.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he pants, his pace brutal, the sound of skin on skin loud enough to drown out your protests. you claw at his back, still muttering about the towels, but it’s incoherent now, lost in the haze of him filling you, stretching you, owning you.

when you come, it’s with a scream, your body shaking, clenching around him so tight he curses, his thrusts stuttering as he follows, spilling inside you with a groaned “fuck, baby.”

you’re trembling, barely holding onto the railing, and he’s not done, his fingers slipping between your legs again, circling your oversensitive clit. “still mad?” he murmurs, smirking, and you hiss, “yes,” but your voice breaks, your legs wobbling as he keeps teasing, pushing you toward another edge.

“liar,” he laughs, kissing you soft now, a contrast to the chaos of before. you’re a wreck, panties tangled around one ankle, shirt rucked up, and he’s still grinning, like he’s won the lottery.

you try to step up, legs shaky, but you stumble, and he catches you, scooping you up bridal-style. “told you the towela were worth it,” he says, carrying you toward the bedroom.

you smack his chest, muttering about the mess on the stairs, but he just kisses your forehead, tossing you onto the bed with a, “round two for the towel tax?”

you’re too spent to argue, pulling him down for more, the receipt forgotten on the stairwell floor, your marriage as chaotic and perfect as ever.

[venomvalley]

FEED ME!

EPILOGUE: BABY FOOD ↬ sevika x pregnant!reader | 3.3k words

SUMMARY: Snippets from a less lonely life.

TAGS: mentions of postpartum depression, PTSD recovery, hurt/comfort, domestic sevika, a LOT of fluff

NOTES: my knowledge of children boils down to babysitting my niece her whole life so blame her if i got anything wrong. also thank yall SO MUCH for the love on this story it's been absolutely insane and i still cannot believe it :'3

-> READ ON AO3 | SERIES MASTERLIST

I. THREE MONTHS

Parenting is hard work.

A fact of life that just about everyone knows, but it’s different actually living it. Days are long and nights are even longer, and Sevika can’t remember the last time she’s gotten a proper sleep. But you have it worse. As soon as she closes her eyes for the night, the kid starts crying, and you sit up with a tired groan to turn on the bedside lamp. Every three hours like clockwork, the same routine: remove Stella from her crib (that Sevika commissioned from a local wood worker) beside the bed, sit a pillow in your lap, pull up your shirt, and feed her.

Sevika tries to stay up with you, to keep you company, but you tell her over and over again that there’s no sense in both of you being useless come tomorrow. You have a good point.

But she does her part in other ways. Changes cloth diapers like a professional, spends more time cleaning up water messes around the tub than actually bathing the kid, rocks her to sleep then puts her in the crib.

It’s all routine now, in the strangest change of fate. Being in love, receiving love, waking up in an actual home and a soft bed—not alone anymore. She has two people now that she would go to the end of the world and back for, and she still can’t believe that the circumstances are real.

Stella always smiles at the sight of her, and Sevika always smiles back.

Weird. Terrifying. Perfect.

“We're going to Lyra’s tomorrow,” you say, adjusting Stella’s weight in your arms as she feeds, tiny hand curled against your chest. “Don’t forget that.”

Sevika cracks open an eye, head lolling on your outstretched leg to look up at you. Naked beneath your red robe, all dips and curves from the pregnancy weight you gained, fresh marks stretching over your belly and hips and inner thighs. Motherhood is a good look you.

But that’s her hindbrain talking. The part of her that would still love you no matter what form you took (but she likes this one a lot).

“The check-up, right?” she asks, turning away from Stella’s kicking foot that connects instead with her temple. “Ow.”

You bite back a laugh, smooth a hand over her hair, then tuck the baby’s legs under your arm. “Yeah. She just wants to make sure everything’s okay.”

“That’s good.”

Tomorrow comes and Stella is less than thrilled about being handled by a stranger. Lyra’s gentle with her exam, but the kid still fusses and wriggles around on the blanket-covered table. When Lyra turns her over onto her stomach, she wails, and you take a step forward before Sevika curls an arm over your chest, gently coaxing you back.

“She's fine, Mama.”

Your head thumps against her shoulder, hand curling over her wrist for comfort. Voice wavering and watery as you mutter, “I know, but I can’t stand to hear her cry.”

Lyra turns to you with a soft smile, cradling a babbling Stella in her arms. “It’s part of your new instincts, dear. But baby’s alright.” A soft pat to said baby's back. “Just fussy.”

With a sigh, you step over to the pair. “She probably needs fed.”

A quick exchange, and Stella’s back to her old self, cooing and smiling in her mama’s arms. Over your shoulder, Sevika catches her eye. Twists up her face in a way that always makes her giggle, and this time’s no different.

She still can’t believe that this is her life now. Too used to inciting fear in the heart of the Undercity, and now a three month old baby looks at her like she’s her world. A big part of her doesn’t believe she deserves it after all the bad she’s done—the people she’s killed, the strife she helped sew throughout the city.

But the kid in your arms doesn’t know that part of her, can’t comprehend it even if she did. Maybe that’s a good thing. At least you saw something inside her worth investing in. Sticking around for.

Still can’t believe it.

When you arrive home, though, the air thickens in a way that leaves her hackles raising. You set Stella's bag on the floor beside the couch and flee to the bedroom, the girl gasping and gurgling in preparation for a crying spell.

“I know, my love. You've had such a long day, huh?” you coo, voice muffled by the wall separating you.

Sevika waits on the couch as you put her down for a nap (she’s always been difficult to get to sleep, her growing brain just too active to shut down). You sneak back into the living room a while later, shutting off the overhead light as you pass, and she scoots over to give you room to sit. You exhale a breath, head thumping against the cushion at your back.

For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence. You need to decompress, and she waits for you to tell her what's wrong.

“Why are you doing all this?” you whisper, gaze trained on the ceiling.

There it is. The reason behind the sudden chill to the room, a tangible shift in your mindset.

“What do you mean?” She doesn't touch you no matter how badly her fingers itch to cradle your hand in hers. Wants to give you space to process whatever it is you're feeling.

“Nothing's keeping you here. Stella isn't even yours, and you still–” you scoff, tears pooling in the corner of your eye, “you take care of her like she is.”

“I don't understand, honey.”

With a quiet groan, you scrub at your face. “Fuck, I—I'm so sorry for involving you in this. We're not your problem, and I just… gods, it's not fair to you.”

“Isn't that for me to decide?”

“But you're already dealing with too much.” The tears fall when you squeeze your eyes shut, disappearing into your hairline. “I feel like such a burden, and I feel even worse for telling you about it.”

Your crying brings her back to that night, to the aftermath when you sat in a chair in the back of Silco's club, covered head-to-toe in blood, sobbing into your hands. She felt helpless then, and she feels helpless now. Doesn’t know how to make the pain go away.

So she does the only thing she can think of to help ease the ache. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her side. Rests her cheek on the top of your head as your chest racks with quiet sobs. She lets you cry until your eyes dry up with an empty ache to her chest.

“If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be,” she whispers, squeezing at your arm. “I can make my own decisions, alright?”

“But you said we're your responsibility—”

“I also said I didn't mean it that way. You're a lot more than that. Both of you.”

If only she had the words to tell you, to explain how much the two of you mean to her. The love that swells her chest to the point of bloating, so overwhelming she chokes on it at times.

You sniff, wipe your nose on your shirt. “You promise?”

“I swear.”

You look up at her, puffy-eyed and pitiful, lips twitching into a weak smile. “I'm choosing to believe you.”

She presses a wet kiss to your cheek. And another, and another, and another. Doesn't stop until you're giggling and fidgeting and turning your face away.

II. SIX MONTHS

Sevika might go insane.

The kid finally learned to crawl a week ago, and she hasn't stopped moving since. Wakes the both of you up late into the night by climbing over your heads to attempt an escape off the mattress. Crawls after you as you walk to and from the kitchen, shouting and gurgling for attention. Pulls herself up onto shaky legs as Sevika sits on the couch, little fingers fisting the fabric of her pants to steady herself. So active and curious that the two of you run yourselves to death just trying to keep up with her.

Sevika would never tell anybody this, but the first time she had to raise her voice at her to keep away from the heavy cabinets, she hid in the closet nearby and cried as Stella napped in her crib. You had come home from the market, seen her puffy eyes, and pulled her into a reassuring hug.

She just doesn't want to be her father's daughter. The parent her parents were. It's a fine line to walk. Terrifying at times.

Over the last few months, Sevika's pulled away a bit from the danger of the Lanes, and in turn, Silco. A shift in priorities tends to alter the brain, and her little family is now at the top of the list. Always at the back of her mind. When she leaves on jobs that she can’t put off on some grunt, she always brings gifts home. Your favorite food, a new onesie, little figurines that remind her of either of you (always the poorly-made ones that make you laugh yourself to tears, but the one she bought featuring a very smashed-up mother and baby cat proudly sits on the table in the entryway).

You’ve got a good part-time job going, cleaning houses for the elderly either too sick or too feeble to do it themselves. It pays in cogs, but you’ve found purpose again. Lyra insisted at your last check-up that you consider activities outside of being a mother. A new hobby, giving back to the community, meeting new people.

Well, you don't really have time for new hobbies and you're still wary of people after the whole Joker thing, so the logical next step was looking for a job. A way to build up a bit of money so you aren’t relying on Sevika all the time—at least, that’s what you told her.

But today, both of you are free to explore the Undercity with Stella in tow. It's the first time you've expressed interest in visiting your favorite bakery since that night with Joker.

A big, important step for you. Your hands shake the whole way as you follow the familiar path of the street, Stella swaddled against your chest. Sevika offered to carry her, but you probably need the comfort. Her point proven when you rub your nose against the wispy hairs on her tiny head as the shop comes into view.

Behind the counter, Tayla gasps when you step inside, squealing at the sight of the baby cradled to your chest. “Oh, I missed you so much!” She strolls up to you then grasps your hands with a beaming smile. “I was so worried after you left that day and I hadn't seen you around. Gods, how are you?”

Ever curious, Stella turns her head at the sound of a new voice then cries out in frustration when she can't see Tayla’s face. The woman in question steps up to your side and takes the baby's hand.

“Hi, baby. It's nice to meet you.” Then she turns to you. “What's her name?”

“Stella,” you say, voice dripping with pride. “Sevika picked it out.”

“What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

Sevika stands off to the side to let the two of you catch up, meandering along the displays of bread and cakes and cookies. The whole shop smells amazing, fresh and sweet, and the handmade furniture and soft lighting give off a coziness uncommon to the Undercity. No wonder you spent so much time here.

When she turns around, Stella is balanced on your hip, grabbing the bits of fresh bread you offer from your palm with thumb and forefinger. Tayla celebrates after each bite with words of praise and a soft clap, and Stella beams. Sevika doesn't want to interrupt the sweet scene, too afraid that her presence would break whatever blissful bubble surrounds your little group. She has nothing to say to Tayla, and this is a big moment for you. One of reunion and reclamation.

Where does she fit in?

You answer her question when you turn around, eyes searching for a split second, and panic gives way to warmth when you spot her. You invite her over with a coaxing nod of your head, lips stretching into a smile.

“She loves the bread,” you say upon her approach, and the baby reaches for her with a scrunched nose and a big smile—her two bottom teeth an adorable contrast against her gums that leaves Sevika's lips twitching upward.

(She remembers when the kid first started teething. A lot of sleepless nights and tears and chewing on wet washcloths. Fingers indented with marks, pricked with blood. You cried more than Stella did, utterly helpless against curing your baby's pain.)

She holds the baby in the crook of her metal arm and wipes the crumbs from her mouth. “Mama's made a mess of you, hasn't she?”

You giggle, squeezing Stella's chubby leg as she babbles away. “She eats like somebody else I know.”

Sevika chooses to ignore the very pointed glare aimed her away.

III. ONE YEAR

Her bubble of happiness shatters shortly after Stella's first birthday, when the gates are knocked down between the Undercity and Piltover, and war is declared. A fight for the world and the two people she loves most in it.

You cry the entire way to the trolley, holding two packed suitcases and the remnants of a broken heart. Stella wriggles in the bend of Sevika's arm—old enough to pick up on the doom in the air, but too young to understand why.

You round on her when you finally reach the door of the car. “I swear to Janna, if you die, I'll track down a mage and revive you so I can kill you myself.”

She holds you close, presses a goodbye kiss to your forehead. “I don't plan on dying.”

“That's what my dad said, and look what happened to him.”

“Good thing I'm not him.”

Your frown deepens as she passes Stella to you, gaze locked onto the cloak hiding her missing arm. “You aren't even able to fight.”

She exhales a breath through her teeth. “You underestimate me.”

“I worry about you. Is that so awful?”

Yes. It's irrational, and the image of your wet cheeks—tear tracks caused by her—sits wrong in her gut. A kind of guilt she's never really experienced. But before you, she never had something important to lose, nobody sitting at home waiting for her to come back safe. Now she has two.

Which is why she has to do this.

"I'll be fine."

You resort to begging, arms wound tight around the baby. Please don't go. I'll do anything. I can't lose you. Please. Please.

She can't let the heartbreak in your voice affect her, not when everything is at stake, no matter how badly she wants to cradle you both in her arms and take you home and damn the world to its fate.

It's the first time she says I love you. A phrase that burns acidic on her tongue, that rushes out in a whisper as you accept one final hug before climbing into the car.

IV. TWO YEARS

The kid's a damn menace. Two years old now, yanking the leash of the world in her chubby little fist. Can barely talk yet (you understand her better than Sevika does), but she always has something to say. Always running around the house.

Like now.

Sevika steps out of the kitchen and intercepts the girl with her lone arm. Pulls her to her chest as she squeals and laughs and kicks her feet.

She can’t help but smile. Says, “I don’t think so, kiddo. You have to put your clothes on.”

You walk from the bedroom with a shake of your head, a pair of matching pajamas in hand, eyes sunken from the long day finally behind you. “I have no idea where she’s gotten this energy from. You, apparently.”

“…Me.”

“I've known you three years and I've never seen you sit still.”

She doesn't know how to tell you that she's not, in fact, the dad (no matter how much she wishes to be), and has no bearing on the kid's genes. So she just nods along and agrees.

Watching this girl grow into herself—become a person with interests, likes and dislikes, a personality that gets stronger with each passing day—has been nothing short of amazing. Already, she's grown an attitude. Talks with the cadence of someone who's dealt with a lifetime of bullshit (Sevika's influence, no doubt). Morphs her face into a direct mirror of your scowls and glares and grins (she looks so much like you sometimes that it's almost uncanny).

The three of you had spent the entire day at a ceremony celebrating Sevika's seat on Piltover's council. Nothing more than a shallow show of solidarity and hospitality that she would rather not subject you to, but you had insisted. I won’t let you do this alone. It’s a sweet sentiment, but she doesn’t expect anything to come of her new status—as if she’d actually take them up on their offer to move her family out of the Undercity.

She’s just putting up with this shit for the confidential information anyway.

You had been excited, more optimistic about the future than her. A chance for change, for progress, to give Stella a better world to grow up in. But the kid will reach the stars one day, with or without her influence. She can feel it.

Sevika sits down on the couch with Stella in her lap, keeping her still so you can finally dress the kid after her bath. But she can't blame her. Who the hell actually likes wearing clothes?

"You can go on to bed," you say, sidestepping the giggling toddler when she runs past. "I'm gonna get her a quick snack."

When the two of you return from the kitchen, Stella that Sevika reads her a story. Climbs into bed with the same pop-up book you've read so many times the pages started cracking, and plants it on her lap.

Sevika shakes her head, mouth twitching into a frown. “I'm not good at telling stories. Not like Mama is.”

Really, she just… can't. A sacred line she hasn't yet dared to cross. She thinks of her mom flipping through those picture books, how animated and enthralling she made each story, and knows she could never do it justice.

(Shit, she's forgotten the sound of her mom's voice.)

You stroll in a moment later, feet dragging along the ground, before collapsing into bed with a relieved groan. "What are you two talking about?"

Sevika sighs, thumbing the edge of the worn book. "She wants me to read to her."

"Mommy, book," Stella says again, patting the cover to get her attention.

The look you give her is one of understanding, reassurance. "I think it would be nice."

"I can't do it like you." Like her mom used to.

"You don't have to."

With a huffing breath, she opens the first page, and Stella curls up against her side, tiny arm slung over her chest. Sevika reads along in a low, calm voice, adjusting her tone for different characters and asking questions about each picture. Halfway through the book, she gets no response, and when she looks over, both you and Stella are fast asleep, curled up beneath the sheets.

She sets the book on the nightstand, turns off the lamp, and shifts Stella around to carve out a spot for herself on the bed. Smiles soft and sleepy when your hand finds hers in the darkness.

[moriitis]

What if...

Toby lived a normal life? HEADCANONS.

For starters, he'd still suffer with Tourette's and CIPA. I'd like to think Schizophrenia is still there too, but he's on meds for that now.

His sisters survives the car accident, taking a couple of years to recover properly.

His dad goes to prison for abuse and neglect, therefor not being part of Toby or Lyra's life. Toby absolutely goes no contact with him, even going as far as wanting a restraining order against him. Lyra is still torn on it, however Toby always tries to get her to do the same just for her safety.

His mom loses custody of them and Toby ends up in a foster home as his mom is deemed mentally unfit to look after him.

However, she works on herself and her trauma and attends therapy.

His foster parents also pay for his own therapy sessions to help cope with the abuse.

When he turns sixteen, he's allowed to see his mom on the weekends.

He also gets a job!

Only in fast-food, like Mcdonalds or Wendys or something.

He saves up to buy himself a crappy car and gets his licence.

Always makes time to see Lyra at her own apartment.

When he turns eighteen and leaves foster care, he gets his own apartment.

Turns his focus to music, probably a guitarist or drummer.

Always attends concerts.

He'd avoid alcohol but would smoke weed probably every couple days.

Would generally just be a pretty nice guy, more open and accepting.

Super kind too, just because he knows what its like to go through some shit.

Would be a midwest emo guy FOR SURE.

He'd always be up to drop you off if you needed a ride.

Would 100% be the guy who waits for you to get inside before he drives off

REALLY funny too

For example working with him would be like the best

He'd be annoying though but that's the way he flirts

Like throwing lettuce at you or putting ice down your shirt

Would be a really soft guy though

[hugmekenobi]

Forever

A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Just when you think your fresh start can officially begin, the past still finds a way to haunt you

Warnings: No (Y/N), me adding one actual personal characteristic (sorry if you aren't arachnophobic), reader has hair long enough to hold, light PDA (kissing), mentions of scars, SMUT (shower sex with non-explicit descriptions of oral m&f receiving, handjob, fingering, making out, dirty talk,hints of praise kink), suggestive dialogue, reader wears a sundress, swearing, hints of Tech/Phee, just stick with me on the Lyra explanation please, mentions of food and drinks/alcohol, drink and general tampering for the sake of poisoning, me making up medical things, descriptions of illness (vomiting, fever, bodily pain), mentions of medical testing/needles and injections, concerned bad batch family, brief dark/protective Hunter, injury (cuts, blaster shots, broken nose/nosebleeds) and torture descriptions with further mentions of pain and blood, a certain lizard makes an unwelcomed appearance, big on the overall fluff and loving vibes but also big on angst and hurt/comfort, references to death and torture, near-character death, fluff and happy ending don't worry

<Previous Oneshot (not totally necessary to read but helpful for build up)

Masterlist for S1,S2 and S3

Word Count: 24.9K (don't look at me lol)

Rating: 18+

Author's note: This is a crazy ride jam-packed with fav tropes of mine, so I can only apologise for the emotional whiplash, but blame my dream because that is where this entire concept came from! Hope it was worth the wait!

The day of the party everyone had been eager awaiting had finally arrived. It was being done in your and the rest of the Batch’s honour and was serving as a combined official welcome to Pabu/congratulations on making it through everything alive type of thing but regardless of the slightly elaborate purpose, the island was all a buzz with excitement and preparations.

You and Hunter were meandering away from the busy colonnade. Your offer to help with the last of the party set up had been politely declined so instead the two of you had opted to join the others at the beach.

“Hey!”

You turned in surprise at the familiar voice and you saw the woman running off her ship and towards you. “Oh hey! What-” Your question was cut off with a huff of air as you were brought into a tight hug.

“Let me see-” Lyra stepped back from you and grabbed your hands excitedly but stopped short as she held them.

“See what?” You looked at her, utterly perplexed by her behaviour.

Hunter resisted the urge to clamp his hand over Lyra’s mouth but there’d be no believable way to explain that away, so he just had to stand there and cross his fingers that you didn’t pressure Lyra for further elaboration.

Lyra realised her mistake and backtracked quickly. “You. Let me see you. It’s been far too long.” She dropped your hands and just walked around you, analysing your form. “Yup, I still got it. Both of you are looking pretty sharp in my stuff if I do say so myself. So, I bet the rest of your lot do to.”

“Stop that.” You twisted your head around and waved her away with a fond yet bemused grin. “Why are you acting so weird? Better yet why are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you.” You added hastily but you were a second too late.  

Lyra placed her hand over her heart in faux offence. “Wow, months with no word and then only sporadic comm channel conversations and this is how I’m greeted? I told you I would visit. Speaking of, I brought more samples of my work.” She gestured to the two cases by her feet. “Top one is yours, the second is to be divided between the rest of your crew. But to answer your question, I’m here for the party.”

You titled your head at her. Your last call had been before the party had been decided so you didn’t know how she knew about it. “The party? Who invited you?” You asked quizzically.

Lyra shot a nervous glance to the man at your side. She’d already almost blown it; she didn’t want to risk doing it again. “Uh, Hunter did actually.”

You glanced at Hunter curiously. “You did?”

Hunter maintained a sense of calm as he answered, “Well, technically it was through Echo, but I put them in contact. Also, a lot of people were asking about our clothes. Figured it couldn’t hurt to see if Shep needed someone like her here. Today felt like the perfect time.” That part was a genuine truth. He hadn’t thought much of the situation on Christophsis in the short time he’d been there- well, what he had thought wasn’t in any way positive-, and you’d always expressed interest in figuring out a way to get Lyra out of there and somewhere better. He was killing two birds with one stone here.  

“Yeah, a party and a job opportunity away from Imperial bullshit was too good to pass up.” Lyra confirmed with a grin.

You smiled broadly. “Oh okay! That’d be pretty great actually! So, Christophsis hasn’t improved since I left?”

“Just kept getting worse.” Lyra said plainly. “Got decent enough business to buy that condemned ship but it’s still pretty awful there. I definitely would not miss it.”

You shot her a sympathetic look before you clapped your hands together, “Well, I better go get Shep and officially introduce you two!” You wandered away to go find the man that was busying about the area making sure things were on schedule for tonight.

Hunter waited until you were out of earshot. He placed his hands on his hips and stared at Lyra. “That was subtle.” He deadpanned.

Lyra cringed. “I’m sorry! The transmission from Echo was pretty dodgy. I couldn’t quite hear him. I just heard ‘Hunter, party, Pabu’ so I though this party was to celebrate what had happened, not as a lead up to what’s going to happen.”

Hunter heaved a weary, stressed sigh. This was beginning to become the best yet somehow worst kept secret on Pabu. He was just grateful that the one person who he really didn’t want to know still appeared to have no idea. How that was possible, he really didn’t understand since it seemed to have spread from the need-to-know people to what felt like every citizen of the island, but he didn’t want to question it too much in case he jinxed it. Each time he passed someone by, and they shot him that knowing smile, he felt a flare of panic that you would notice and start to question him but so far, you just took it as standard practice from the naturally friendly disposition of the people here. He was almost there, he just needed everyone around him to keep it together. He straightened up and signalled to Lyra to act natural as you approached them once more.

“Lyra, this is Shep. The best mayor of Pabu and overall, pretty incredible man. Shep, this is my friend Lyra.”

“Nice to meet you.” Lyra stuck her hand out with a friendly grin and nodded to you. “She’s always spoken highly of you.”

“We’ve all grown very fond of her and the rest of the family.” Shep smiled and shook her hand in return. “It’s nice to officially meet you too! You’re joining us for our little shindig? And Hunter also tells me you’re looking to live and employ yourself here?”

“Yup! Can’t keep me from a good party. And yes, if you have the space for me, I’d love to talk to you about it more!” Lyra said cheerily. “Anything I can do to help with setting up in the meantime?”

“I’m sure there’s something. It always gets chaotic in the final stages.” Shep said, sweeping his arm in front of him to guide her in the direction he was going.

“Hang on, you said-” You started to argue.

“Go enjoy your day, we’ll see you later tonight!” Shep said dismissively.

“Your cases!” Hunter called after the fading figures.

“They’re yours!” Lyra tossed over her shoulder. “Although, I’d wait until you’re alone to open yours!” She said to you specifically.

You let out a small groan. Your mind immediately entered panic mode and started jumping between every experimental or bold combination of clothing that she felt the need to put you in. She’d been on point so far, but you knew there had to be a catch at some point.

“We can take a slight detour before heading to the beach, right? It’s only a couple minutes out the way.” Hunter double checked with you.

“Yeah def-” You didn’t even get a chance to finish your sentence or pick up a box before someone swept in and addressed Hunter.

“Don’t worry, Hunter. I’m heading past your house anyway to grab some supplies we need up here. I can drop them off. You guys can carry on with your day.”

“Thanks Kyan.” Hunter said as the fisherman picked up the boxes.

“Yes, thank you so much!” You echoed as he left. “Why is everyone being so nice?” You mused as you saw him head in the direction of your home. “We’re basically passing our house anyway; we could’ve done it.”

“They’re always nice here.” Hunter said nonchalantly, hoping you wouldn’t sense his nerves increasing. He snaked an arm around your waist and guided you down the winding path.

“I guess.” You mirrored his gesture as you strolled towards the beach. “This just feels different, like they all know something we don’t.”

“I wouldn’t think too much about it.” Hunter advised. Two more hours. Only two more hours to go before the secret would finally be out in the open.

--

You and Hunter stood on an outcrop of rocks just overlooking the sea and you called over to the group of people and dog sitting on the beach. “How was the swim?”

“Amazing! You really should go for one too. The water is so nice!” Omega encouraged as she lounged on a towel, letting the warm sun dry her off. Her and Batcher had been the only one to actually enter the water, the others had only decided to get their feet wet.

“I’m good. We don’t have long before the party and I’d rather-” You sensed the threat a second to late. With a yelp, you were shoved over the edge and entered the water with a splash.

You came to the surface to the sounds of laughter from the bystanders on the beach- even the dog was barking in a way that sounded like a laugh. You glared up at the clone staring down at you with a smug grin on his face. “You mother-”

“So… how’s the water?” Hunter taunted.

Two could play this game. “Yeah, it’s great actually, you’re really missing out.” With that, you raised your hand and with a tug of the Force, Hunter swiftly tumbled into the water too.

His aggrieved shout before he hit the water was music to your ears.

“Okay, I should’ve seen that coming.” Hunter admitted through a short series of coughs as he reappeared from below the depths.

Your plan of revenge had instantly backfired given just how perfect he looked right now. Your breath hitched as you saw the way his wet hair fell around his shoulders and framed his profile as well as the way droplets of water dripped down his face. He was a sight to behold. You reached up and stroked some of his damp fringe just behind his bandana. You’re beautiful.

Hunter gulped at the compliment. It had never been a word he’d apply to himself; he didn’t really view himself in that light, it was only ever you. Yet you said it to him with such sincere feeling, he knew you meant it.

You kissed him softly before you made to swim for shore, but you didn’t get very far.

In one short stroke, Hunter reached you and kissed you fiercely.

You tangled your fingers in his damp locks with a pleasure filled sigh as you matched his strokes.

Hunter could taste the salt on your lips, and he could feel the way your body pressed against him as you grew more eager, it only spurred him on further.

The few disgruntled and offended shouts as well as a ship flying overhead caused you both to hastily pull apart.

“It’s Echo!” Omega yelled happily, wriggling out of the protective hand Wrecker had placed over her eyes- it wasn’t like she had no idea what was going on. Not waiting on the rest of them, she and Batcher dashed back towards where his ship was going to land.

“Um, so-” Hunter began awkwardly. He used to be more careful about the public displays of affection, especially around his family, but it would appear that feeling free, relaxed and in love could be quite a distraction when it wanted to be.

Should everything go to plan, they were taking her anyway, but the confirmation felt necessary. “Yes, we’ll take her tonight.” Crosshair said, shaking his head in the direction of the two of you but a smile was on his face.

“Ha! The gang’s all back!” Wrecker cheered, slapping Tech’s shoulder as he, Tech and Crosshair followed the young girl. “I can’t wait for this thing to get started!”

“Yes, this party should be quite the reunion.” Tech remarked simply as he walked and finished making the finishing touches to the repairs to his goggles.

“Echo’s taking a break from the clone rebellion for a party?” You furrowed your brow as you reached the sand and half-heartedly wrung out the edges of your top.

Hunter shrugged as he wiped some water off his face. The fact that his brother was indeed making an appearance meant a lot, but he couldn’t very well act like that in front of you. “It’s supposed to be quite the party.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Right.”

“Plus, he was right there with us, so it be a shame if he didn’t make an appearance.”

You inclined your head in acceptance of that. You then took proper notice of the way his soaked clothes clung to his toned body, emphasising very muscle. Despite the chill of the water, your blood ran hot as intense longing overcame you. You turned away from him and attempted to regain control of yourself.

Hunter noticed the way you swiftly stopped looking at him and he knew you were fighting to regain control the same way he was but, quite frankly, he didn’t want to. He came up behind you and draped his arms around your front.

You exhaled happily and leaned back against him.

“How about a shower?” He crooned in your ear as he brushed his lips just behind your ear.

You nodded dumbly as he gently nipped at your earlobe. Control was overrated.

--

You let out a squeal as the door you were pressed up against opened suddenly and you stumbled backwards- if it weren’t for the strong hands gripping your hips, you would’ve fallen straight down. Your kisses with Hunter were a passionate and frenzied mess of tongue and teeth as he backed you down the hallway, muscle memory guiding the way since neither of you wanted to pull apart, not even to catch your breath.

A trail of wet clothes marked the way through to the refresher.

A gasp left your mouth as the first cold spray of water hit you, a gasp that Hunter took full advantage off as he kissed you deeply, swallowing your groans of pleasure.

The water soon turned warm, but goosebumps still graced your skin as you were pushed up against the cool wall tiles. You leaned your head back as Hunter removed his lips from yours and began biting and kissing along your neck. “W-wait.” You managed to say breathlessly. He had always been the one to cater to your needs and you wanted nothing more than to be the one to do that for him first. He so rarely put himself first both in everyday life and in this particular regard and it was something you wanted to change.

Hunter immediately stopped and braced his hands on either side of your head, his breathing heavy as he waited until you were comfortable to carry on. Or not.

You nearly lost it at the sight of the man in front of you. Beautiful had been an understatement. He looked positively ethereal as his hair was wet and loose around his shoulders, the pieces of fringe at the front just demanding your touch. Water cascaded down his toned back and his usual caring brown eyes were nearly black with lust yet there was a slight crinkle in his brow to indicate that he was happy to wait until he knew you were okay with proceeding which only added to your desire. You inhaled deeply and pressed a seductive kiss to his mouth before you trailed your lips down his neck, kissing the hollow of his throat. You then gently pushed him away from you in order to change positions, so that he was the one against the tiles now.

Hunter looked at you questioningly but any words he was about to speak became a hoarse groan as he felt you reach down and wrap your hand around him. He tipped his head back against the tiles as you moved your hand.

You ignored the feeling of the water on your back and fixed your focus entirely on him as you kept your touches teasing, relishing each groan that left his throat. Look at me.

Hunter was all too willing to follow your instructions, but he saw you getting ready to kneel and he caught your elbow. He swallowed harshly as he rasped through the haze of pleasure you were granting him, “Y-you don’t have to. L- let me-”

You shook your head to silence his protests and paused what you were currently doing. You pressed soft, doting kisses up his thighs, before making your way up his ribs and affectionately kissing the jagged scar left by the wild reeks all those years ago and then you carried on downwards once more as you formed a path of kisses to his abdomen before you moved lower still.

“You’re always the one to give. I want you to take.” You encouraged as you licked a slow, sensual stripe along the length of him.

Hunter’s head fell back against the shower wall and a choked moan left his throat.

You stopped and tutted. You rose to your full height and grabbed the back of his neck, so he was forced to look at you once more. You needed him to watch so he knew just how much you wanted to do this for him. Keep your eyes on me. Do you think you can manage that?

Hunter just about managed to nod. He was utterly enraptured by the sight of you. Your eyes were bright and laced with longing, your heavy breaths came from lips already swollen from the kisses you’d shared and there was an overall desire that radiated from you that he was completely captivated by.  

You smirked and kissed him deeply. Good boy.

“Fuck.” Hunter breathed as he watched you go to your knees once more but even as you nodded up at him, he still found himself not wanting to take full advantage of the situation. He sought purchase against the shower walls as he fought with the primal urge within him to do what you were asking of him.

This particular scenario that you were invoking was new territory for him- you knew he would still be hesitant- so you began with that you knew would make him lose his mind and remove all doubt from his brain. You needed him to stop overthinking it and to stop being concerned with your pleasure needs for the moment.

You needed him only thinking about himself and the pleasure he wanted from you.

With his eyes still looking at you, Hunter’s hands slipped against the slick tiles as he fought against the impulse to tangle his fingers in your wet hair as each frustratingly slow and light touch had him losing his mind. Your name left his mouth in a cracked whisper as he pleaded, “P-please.”

Please what? You replied innocently. You looked up at him as you carried on, keeping your pace slow and your ministrations featherlight.

The alluring glint in your eyes had him swallowing hard as he searched for his voice. “I need- fuck- I need more…” He made a move to drop one of his hands but stopped. “Sweetheart, I-”  

You only need to take. You reminded as you placed light kisses along him.

At your words and as the instinctual need for release finally took over, Hunter found himself fisting your hair and guiding your mouth down the length of him.

You groaned appreciatively at the action.

Hunter released a choked gasp as the vibrations from your throat only added to the sensation that he was getting utterly lost in. And he was continuing to follow your instructions and he could understand why you’d laid them out. Watching your eyes flutter shut in pleasure as you accepted him made him close to finishing right then and there and he had gain control quickly or this would be over too soon.

You were compliant to his every move, making sure every response you gave him was what he wanted. His own moans and the broken praise emitting from his lips for you as he grew more and more caught up in finding gratification drove you on as he claimed your throat in the way you had been waiting for him to do.

His gruff sighs made your own simmering arousal burn red hot in your veins.

This was exactly what you wanted.

You wanted him incoherent.

You wanted him to let go.

You wanted him to focus on himself.

The release Hunter was chasing arrived faster than he’d anticipated but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you. you felt too good. The best he could do was attempt a hoarse, stammered warning, “I’m gonna- oh fuck-” He kept looking at you and a new longing took a hold of him, the one he had before this began. “I want to taste y– I need to tou- fuck you’re doing so well-” But he still couldn’t stop despite him meaning the words he was blabbering. “I’m- wait-”

You already knew he was nearing his climax by the way his hips stuttered but you didn’t want him to hold back. You clasped his free hand in encouragement and kept yourself right where you were. It’s okay, I want it.

That was all he needed. With a loud and hoarse shout, Hunter reached that sweet moment of ecstasy.

You stayed strong, only stopping when he demandingly pulled you to your feet and before you could even process what had happened, your back was to the shower wall once more, Hunter’s body pressed tight up against yours as his lips crashed into yours.

Hunter could taste the remnants of his release on your tongue, and it prompted him to hold the hinge of your jaw to tip your head back as he licked into your mouth. A deep growl sounding from him as he did so.

You welcomed his kiss and matched his intensity as you pawed at his muscled back as if you could somehow remove every inch of offensive space between you.

Hunter finally pulled away for air, but he raised your arms above your head and pressed your wrists into the wall.

It was hard to imagine that not 30 seconds ago, you had reduced this man to a tongue-tied, purely desire driven mess. Yet now the positions had rapidly switched.

Hunter licked the water away from your neck, smiling against your skin as he felt your pulse quicken at the action. He kept one hand entrapping your wrists, but he slowly brought his other hand down, his fingertips steadily descending down your arm. “Do you know why I so rarely let you do that for me?”

You shook your head; you didn’t trust that actual words would exit your lips. Goosebumps graced your body at his touch.

“Because as talented as you are at that and as grateful as I am for you allowing me to do that…” He nuzzled his nose against the side of yours before he kissed the corner of your mouth, pulling away ever so slightly as you turned your head to kiss him properly.

The roguish, teasing grin on his face made your breath catch in your throat. Your desire grew more intense as his already low, smoky voice somehow went an octave lower and his seductive words sounded more like a deep growl as he spoke to you, and it made you weak at the knees. Your chest heaved as each yearning breath left your lungs as you watched him.

He caressed your cheek. “There’s something else that also brings me that much pleasure…” He kissed along your jaw before he carried on with his plan.

You could only observe him, the sight of his lust-fuelled gaze and the way he was suddenly so in control made your want for him burn that much hotter.

Hunter then rested his hand just at the hollow of your throat, feeling a shuddering breath leave you as you swallowed, he glanced up at your face which was watching him with both heightened curiosity and desperation as you waited for him to touch you were he knew you needed him to.

He trailed his fingers sensually down the rest of your torso before moving them tenderly up the inside of your thighs, a hint of delight flowing through him as he already felt how ready you were for him already and it was all from what had just transpired– he was yet to do anything. “Because when I touch you here…” He murmured as he ever so slightly rubbed that sensitive spot between your legs, delighting in the gasp that sounded from your lips. “I can watch you fall apart…”

A whimper sounded from your throat.

“And when I kiss you here…” He stopped his movements for the most part, instead just tenderly rubbing faint circles with his thumb as he mouthed his way down your body.

Your breathing was leaving you in short, sharp pants.

“I can watch you fall apart on my tongue.” With that, he lifted your leg onto his shoulder before his mouth joined where his fingers were. An eager moan came from his own lips as he finally got to taste you and for the moment, he wanted to savour this. You were a craving- an addiction- that he couldn’t get enough of. He was in no rush, and he draw this out for as long as you both could handle it.

His name fell from your lips through a raspy groan. He knew your body so damn well and that was both a blessing and a curse. He was barely giving you enough to gain any form of satisfaction but yet it was just enough to drive you crazy with need. You scrambled for a grip on the slippery tiles as desperate cries sounded from you. One hand fumbled against the small shelf as a particularly wicked curl of his fingers made a jolt of pleasure rush through you and various shower supplies came tumbling down with an unnecessarily loud crash but neither of you paid them any attention, instead you merely clamped that hand over your mouth to quiet yourself.

“You know I want to hear you, sweetheart.” Hunter crooned as he stopped what he was doing. The demand needed to be met before he would continue.

You nodded, through a pleasure induced daze as you removed your hand. You had to keep reminding yourself that you had a place of your own now and you could be as free as you wanted to be, there was no risk of being overheard or interrupted but it was a habit that was still proving difficult to break.

As he finally showed willing to bring you closer to the point of release, your mewls of pleasure left you without restraint.

Hunter hummed out his approval as he put his mouth back on you and began moving his fingers once more, and this time, he wasn’t drawing anything out.

He wanted to watch you come.

He angled his eyes up as he found that spot that he knew would have you finding your release in no time. He let out his own appreciative sigh as he saw the way your eyes flickered shut, as he saw the way your brow furrowed, and your lips parted in sweet relief as those special breathy sighs exited from them, signally that you were close.  

You arched your back as you went tumbling towards that blissful climax and you finished with a strangled groan, your hands tangling in Hunter’s soaked hair to ground yourself as he worked you through it.

Hunter made sure you were back to being steady on your feet before he prompted you to face the wall so he could press loving, accepting kisses to the scars on your back. “I love you... so much.” He nearly found himself following that up with the question, but he stopped himself. Too much had been planned and he knew exactly how he wanted to do it. He wasn’t about to ruin it with getting too caught up in this wonderful moment.

“I love you too.” You replied softly.

Hunter placed one last kiss between your shoulder blades before he gathered up the fallen shower products that had scattered around his feet.

You braced your forehead on the cool tiles to gather yourself once more. For a moment the only sounds were the steady of jets of shower water and Hunter placing the items back on their shelf,

“Okay… so… now we need to do the actual showering part.” You said breathlessly as you finally turned around and brushed back his fringe pieces.

Hunter chuckled and nodded his agreement. “We have a party to get to after all.”

--

“Hey, I have a question.” You asked casually as you appreciatively watched Hunter get dressed. You had made no such moves yet and were instead lounging on your bed still in your bathrobe.

“What’s that?” Hunter asked as he finished buttoning his shirt.

“How important is it that we attend this party?”

A wave of panic hit him, and he had to rely on old training to keep his voice steady. “Is everything okay?” Even with his fast-acting composure, he could tell his voice was strained but if you noticed, you didn’t call on it since you carried on as normal in your response.

“Well, no. After that display in the shower, I find myself not quite wanting to be so social.”

Hunter held back his sigh of relief. This was something he could handle just fine. It wasn’t your fault that you were looking to cause a bit of trouble, he was just glad that there wasn’t a more serious reason to your original question because that would make the rest of this evening rather tricky. “Given the fact that they’re having it in our honour, I’d say it’s pretty important that we go.”

You shuffled to the end of the bed and sat up. You caught his hand as he walked by you. “But there are five other honouree people that are going…”

“Sweetheart…” He really had to figure out how to navigate this without giving anything away.

“Now let’s see…” You feigned pondering as you went through the options in your head and rubbed your thumb along his hand. “We’ve already done the bed, the shower, the table, the couch and the counter…”

Hunter’s attempt at swallowing was interrupted as various memories flashed through his head, some highlights being your thighs wrapped around his head, you straddling his lap and his handprints imprinting on the glass of the kitchen cabinets. It was true that he had been rather insatiable lately and you had been all too willing and happy to match his enthusiasm but now was the time for self-control. He released a choked cough as he attempted to steady himself.

“But I don’t believe we’ve done a wall yet...” You said coyly as you started to pull down the arm of your bathrobe to expose more of your clavicle. You also spread your legs a little wider, so the fabric hitched up your thighs as you nodded to the dresser behind him. “Or the bureau…”

Hunter released a guttural, unrestrained groan before he kissed you. Hard. But just as you threaded your fingers in his hair and made to pull him on top of you, he found himself once more. He had to act now, or he’d never want to leave here. He stepped away and stopped your hand that was continuing to lower the shoulder of your robe, but he couldn’t help but notice the few remaining water droplets on your neck that were calling to be kissed away.  

“Hunter…” You pretended to pout as you gently yanked on the loose ends of his shirt, so he was forced to come and stand between your legs.

Hunter pushed down on your shoulders and your arms above your head. “Go.” A chaste kiss to your lips. “Get.” Another quick kiss. “Dressed.” He placed one final brief kiss to your mouth before he readjusted the shoulder of your dressing gown.

“The robe has to come off to do that though.” You whispered as you placed a tender kiss to his mouth.

Hunter huffed out a laugh as he stood tall once more. He quickly walked out the room before you had the chance to accidentally ruin everything he had put together. “Don’t take too long!” He called back to you.

You released a heavy, grounding sigh before you sat up and hopped off the bed and your eyes caught sight of the case. With apprehensive curiosity, you strolled over to the new package that Lyra had gifted you, bracing yourself for what was going to be revealed.

You unclasped the lock, but you were pleasantly surprised by what was inside. It was a variety of sundresses, each one a similar design but in a variety of colours. They were a new thing for you to try but you figured a party could call for doing something different, plus you couldn’t wait to see Hunter’s reaction to something like this.

You picked out a red dress and was unsurprised to see that it fit you just right. You had a rummage through the rest of the box to see if there was anything else or if it was just those dresses, but you regretted that immediately.

A horrified, strangled breath left you as you saw the three sets of lace lingerie. A red, a black and a white set were all folded neatly at the bottom of the box. You held up the red set and recognised the design immediately. You muttered a series of curse words to yourself before your eyes caught sight of a small black silk bag and the items in there left you frozen in shock. This was something you would have to keep well hidden. You slammed the lid shut and shoved it to the back of the shared closest.

--

You quietly walked down the short hallway towards the front room which served as an open planned area with a kitchen and living space. You leaned against the wall and a smile graced your face as you watched the domestic scene with fond affection- Hunter had just finished gathering and hanging up your sodden beach clothes and was proceeding to put away some dry dishes. It made your heart soar that he had settled into the domesticity of the island and the routine here so well, it made making a life with him here all the more appealing.

As much as you enjoyed watching him, and as much as you would enjoy just staying in, you knew he wanted to go to the party, and you knew you would have a good time once you were there. You just wanted a little bit more fun first. “Zip me up?”

Hunter half-turned from where he was putting away a plate, but he forgot how to both breathe and operate as a functioning human as he saw you. The dish slipped out of his hands and smashed against the ground.

You smirked. That had gone even better than you’d expected. “Hmm, that’s an interesting technique. Sure, it saves space but I’m not sure how sustainable it is in the long run.”

Hunter struggled to find his voice. He bent down to gather the broken pieces and throw them away to try to buy himself some recovery time, but it didn’t help. All he could do was stare at you. The red sundress you were wearing complimented you perfectly and it showed off your body to the best degree. You were, to put it mildly, simply stunning and suddenly, his entire operation for this evening didn’t seem that important anymore.

You whistled and waved your hand in an attempt to bring his attention back. “Hey, Hunter, my zip?” With that, you turned around and waited.

Hunter wasn’t sure how he willed his feet to move but he soon found himself behind you.

His knuckles grazed your skin as he slowly brought the zip up your body and attached the small clasp at the top. His jaw was clenched tight as he caught a whiff of the body wash and lotion you had used, and it was getting harder and harder to find the willpower to step away from you. He had a plan. He’d had this plan for weeks yet one look at you in this dress and he was seriously considering throwing it all out the window and to hell with the consequences of it. “You look beautiful.” He said through a deep exhale. Just one more hour. He only had to make it one more hour.

“Thank you.” You said quietly as you too worked on calming yourself.

You turned to face him. “You look pretty good too.” You complimented as you gave him an appraising look up and down– in your attempts to distract him, you’d failed to properly take him in before. He wasn’t quite wearing a suit- it would be too hot for that tonight- but the lightweight formal black button-down shirt and matching black bottoms fit his frame handsomely, and to make himself even more appealing, he had rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. “New one of Lyra’s?” You guessed as you smoothed down the front of your dress.

Hunter nodded. He didn’t offer too much detail because much of what was in his box consisted of proper suits for him and his brothers that he hoped would be useful in the near future.

“Gotta hand it to her, she knows what she’d doing.” You mused before you loosened your shoulders and linked your arm through Hunter’s elbow. “Come on, we’ve got a celebration to get to.”

--

Night had fallen but the area on the colonnade was all lit up by the warm orange glow of a vast number of lanterns. The party was in full swing. Food and drinks were already flowing, and the music was getting many people up and dancing.

A playful wolf-whistle greeted you and Hunter as the two of you entered the scene.

“Damn, I am too good. What a fine-looking couple you two are.”

Evidently, by the cheery and slightly lopsided way Lyra walked over to you, she had been hitting the punch pretty hard already.

“Having a good time?” You asked with a laugh.

“Very! This party is fantastic! Everyone here is so nice! And I got the job!!”

“Lyra, that’s awesome!” You hugged her tightly.

“Congrats.” Hunter offered mildly but sincerely.

“So, better get used to having me around. And that’s just as well cause you’ll need me to des-” She quickly cut herself off. It would appear that alcohol only aided the inability to keep a secret.

“Want a drink?” Hunter asked you swiftly before you could follow up on her comment.

You nodded. “I just gotta talk to Lyra about something.”

Hunter couldn’t very well insist you join him, but he only hoped what you needed to talk about wasn’t close to what would hopefully unfold tonight. He squeezed your hand before he hastily walked towards the drinks stand.

You faced Lyra once more after he was a suitable distance away. “Now, I’m happy for you but also rather irritated with you.”

“Why?” Lyra asked innocently as she brought the cup to her lips to hide her grin.

You didn’t believe her lack of awareness for an instant. “You put those in that case? What were you thinking?” You hissed.

“Why not? You were willing to before everything went to shit. I remembered the design and everything! And you have more options now!”

You shook your head. “I was feeling brave back then, that feeling has since passed.”

Lyra scoffed, “Please, with the way the two of you are, I’m surprised you haven’t done something like that already.”

“You’ve got a retired clone sergeant and a retired ex-Jedi living on a tropical island, things aren’t exactly crazy around here. I’ve lost my bold and brave streak.” You didn’t think she needed to know what had had gone on in the shower and the times before her arrival because that would only aid her argument if you were being perfectly honest.

Lyra merely rolled her eyes. “It’s not a battlefield. It’s a totally great way to switch things up, especially now that you’re in a secure living situation and you would both feel and looking fucking sexy. Plus, I bet you he would drop to his knees and do whatever you wanted if he saw you in one.”

“I will never- hey.” You relaxed quickly and cleared your throat as Hunter rejoined you.

“Did I interrupt something?” Hunter asked with a glance between the two of you as he passed you your drink.

Lyra angled herself towards him. “Hunter, let me ask you a question. If she had certain-”

“You interrupted nothing.” You interjected sharply.

“Um okay.” Hunter didn’t press the matter of whatever it was the two of you were debating. “Come on, the others are over there.” He pointed to where the bulk of the dancing and partying was taking place.

“Just think about it!” Lyra implored.

You glared at her as Hunter led you away.  

Lyra simply grinned and raised her glass in your direction. “Enjoy the party!”

--

The time was drawing near, and Hunter was just confirming with Shep that everything was set for when he got back when Hunter noticed you and Crosshair sitting and chatting, but you were also swaying to the beat of the music. He bade Shep farewell before he approached you.

--

The party was still going full swing and after you had the chance to catch up with Echo, you and Crosshair had retired to a seat on the side to people watch. The two of you sat in comfortable silence as you casually observed the goings on around you. There was a healthy split between the people by the food and drink area and on the dancefloor. Wrecker was enthusiastically dancing with Omega and Lyana and Phee, Tech and Echo were engaged in a pleasant conversation a few metres away and Hunter was chatting to Shep by the bar.

“So, you’re really sure about him?” Crosshair asked, breaking the silence first.

You frowned in utter confusion as you angled your head to face him. “What kind of a question is that?”

Crosshair shrugged. “Just checking.”

“You’re leaving that a bit late down the road are you not?” You were baffled by his sudden interest in the status of your relationship.

“Well, I haven’t been here for all of it. Trust me, I’m for grateful for that than I’m not. You two can be pretty sickening.” He added cheekily.

You rolled your eyes at his true Crosshair mannerisms. “So, is this your bizarre way of being a protective brother?”

“I’m looking out for both of you. He has some pretty annoying habits you know. I’d hate for you to be stuck with him before you fully knew what you were getting into.”

You snorted. “I’m all good, thanks Crosshair.”

Crosshair waited a beat of silence before his voice turned more serious. “Just don’t hurt him, alright? He’s been hurt enough already, we all have, the cycle has to end at some point.”

Your gaze softened. “I won’t ever hurt him.” You squeezed his left hand in reassurance before the two of you went back to relaxed quiet and you saw Hunter making his way towards you.  

The music turned slow and that caused a brief dispersal of the dance floor, which included Wrecker, Lyana and Omega to depart.  

--

Hunter reached you and held out his hand in invitation. “Come on.”

You looked at his extended hand, then at his face to see that he was totally serious. “Since when can you dance?” You asked, completely taken aback.

Hunter, nodded to Crosshair. “Back when we were first getting success as a squad, we thought it would be a way to impress anyone that came into 79s when we had leave from the war.”

You directed your question to both of them. “Did it work?”

Crosshair smirked as he said, “It worked for one of us.”

You laughed as you glanced to Hunter and said with a teasing lilt to your voice, “If you’re that bad at it, I don’t know if I want to.”

Hunter sighed. “Hey, I wasn’t bad, I had options, I just had a bad habit of failing to follow through.”

Crosshair continued to goad him. “Is that how you’re remembering it?”

Hunter’s voice went more defensive than he would’ve liked as he addressed his brother. “What about that red head who kept coming to our table the night we were celebrating the win at Boz Pity. She kept talking to me, remember that?”

“I remember who she left with.” Crosshair replied smugly.

You, having enjoyed watching their brotherly spat, took Hunter’s hand to stop the dispute going any further. “I will say, dance lessons were not really on the teaching agenda for Jedi, especially during the war, I don’t know-”

Hunter pulled you to your feet. “I promise to not let you trip.”

You reluctantly complied. “And if I stand on your toes?”

Hunter just led you to where the other people were dancing. “I won’t even react. And it’s slow music, I doubt you could inflict much damage.”

“You underestimate me.” You mumbled nervously.

--

“You’re too tense.” Hunter observed as he watched the way your eyes were fixed firmly on the ground.

“This is how your feet will continue to have feeling.” You grunted as you kept an intense focus on your movements. Even though the two of you were mostly slowly moving in beat to the soft music, your grip on his hand was tight and the one on his shoulder was digging into him.

Hunter released a low chuckle. “Here. Try this.” He adjusted the stance, so your arms were around the back of his neck and his coiled around your waist, so the front of your body was close to his. Now, the two of you pretty much stayed put and just enjoying the moment of being in each other’s company.

“I find it hard to believe you never followed through.” You uttered in quiet disbelief. The two of you weren’t moving from your spot all that much but the secure way he held you and the aura of calm confidence he projected was making it hard to think straight.

“It never felt right.”  

You hummed out a pleased sigh as you placed your head in the crook of his neck.

“I guess I was just waiting for you.” Hunter added softly as he rested his head against yours.

You removed your head from the crook of his neck, and you saw the heartfelt meaning behind his eyes. You leaned up to kiss him and for a minute, the entire buzz of the party faded away and it was just you and him sharing in a loving moment together.

As music the music came to a stop, Hunter whispered in your ear, “Want to get outta here?”

You nodded silently and intertwined his hand in yours.

Hunter took a deep breath as he led you away.

Ten minutes left.

--

The rest of them had gathered to watch the two of you leave.

“Let’s go!” Omega gasped eagerly.

“Hold on, kid.” Echo caught her arm as she went to dash after them. “Five-minute head start, remember?”

“Right, right.” Omega agreed as she recalled the particular details of the plan.

“Technically, only Echo should be the one going.” Tech reminded.

“Yeah, Tech, I don’t really think that was ever going to happen.” Echo replied simply.

“Damn right! We’re all getting to see this!” Wrecker argued.

Echo raised his eyebrows in Tech’s direction. “See. And you were never going to stay because you kept talking about recording it anyway.” He pointed out.

“My phrase was merely pointing out that we are all ignoring a part of the plan Hunter quite specifically told the rest of us not to get involved with.” Tech responded.

“We’re not big on following orders.” Omega said with a shrug.

“If you’re all done debating what is a pointless argument because we were all always going to watch, it’s time to go.” Crosshair drawled.

--

“Uh, Hunter, home is that way?” You pointed in the direction he was currently walking in the opposite direction of.

“How about a beach walk first?” Hunter offered.

You gave him a surprised smile but nodded your agreement.

--

It didn’t matter how much reassurance he’d received in the recent weeks that you would say yes. His heart was damn near pounding out his chest the closer the two of you got to the sight and his mind started to spiral. What if you said no? What if you hated the very idea? He should’ve spoken to you about this first but wait, there was something to be said for knowing when it felt right wasn’t there? But maybe he should’ve-

“Your palm is sweaty.” You stopped and got him to face you. “And it’s not just cause of that that I can tell that you’re nervous.”

Great, so much careful planning and keeping you away from people that were far too eager to give you hints and his own usually steady nerves were about to give it all away. He had done everything right so far yet now he was a sweaty mess.

“Hunter, is everything okay?”

“Everything-” Dammit his voice came out all cracked. He cleared his throat and started again. “Everything is fine, I promise.” He started to guide you again. “If you just follow me a little bit further…”

“Follow you to what? Why are you being so…” Your voice trailed off and released an awed gasp as you saw the scene ahead of you. A small section of the beach was set up with a canopy and illuminated in a warm glow by strings of lights and a short carpet led the way inside. “What occasion have I forgotten and how quickly can I make it up to you?” You said as you started to panic.

Hunter was quick to reassure you. “You haven’t forgotten anything, and I think we stopped keeping track of things like that a long time ago.”

“Well, aren’t we the romantic pair.” You said dryly as you looked on in wonder at the fairy lights around you before the two of you came to a stop at the end of the walkway and stood in front of a  

“I think we do alright.” Right on queue, the puck began to play the video Tech had put together, courtesy of Hunter’s guidance.

Your throat clogged with emotion at the display in front of you. The montage was starting right from the moment you had made yourself known to the squad and to when you’d first met Hunter and it was clear something transpired between the two of you. Something that you both would dismiss or shove away for a long time.

Hunter heard the footsteps and there were more than what he had ordered. “I’ll be right back.” He kissed your temple. “Keep watching.” He instructed as he saw you getting ready to question what was going on.

You couldn’t understand why he was leaving but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the images. It seemed it was progressing to show a mix of how your relationship had transpired over the years. From every emotionally charged yet pushed aside moment, to every squabble and every time the rest of the team trapped the two of you somewhere to talk as well as the infuriating times each of them attempted to convince either of you to do something about your feelings. It showed the highs and lows of everything that had happened since Kaller too and it reminded you of just how much you’d all endured and survived.

It was a strange thing to watch, to see how obvious your feelings were yet you knew you’d waited so long before acting on them. It was so evident that the two of you were always drawn together and it would always be that way, the love radiated through, and it was something that had continued to this day.

--

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Hunter hissed as he herded his brothers and Omega behind some rocks. Keeping this secret was hard enough and he was almost there but the appearance of his supportive and rather determined family might be the final thing that gave everything away before he had the chance to even ask you yet.

“But Echo was always allowed to-” Omega started to protest quietly.

“I needed him here.” Hunter couldn’t risk receiving this item until the last minute since he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hide it well enough from you and the last thing he wanted was you to find it accidentally before he had the chance to do things how he wanted.

“Here it is.” Echo handed said item over to him.

“Thank you.” Hunter said appreciatively as he took the small velvet encased box. “But how hard did you try telling this lot not to come down?”

“Eh, not very.” Echo admitted simply. “Come on, Hunter. We all wanted to be here to watch this.”

Hunter did know that, and he wasn’t truly upset, he actually really appreciated everything they’d all helped with. “Alright, alright. Just keep quiet, please?”

Everyone nodded.

Hunter knew they were never going to follow that, but he didn’t have time to push the matter.

“Better get going. By my calculations, the video should be finishing in the next minute.” Tech informed him.

--

The video came to an end, and you couldn’t believe Hunter missed sharing this with you. You sensed him approach but as you turned to question why he’d left, your breath caught in your throat, and you forgot how to form words as you saw him down on one knee and presenting a ring to you.

--

Hunter had rehearsed this so many times, yet his adrenaline was pumping like crazy, but he was determined to see this through to its proper end. He wasn’t about to ruin it because he got jittery. He took a deep, grounding breath before he started to speak. He kept his voice low and though he spoke quietly, he filled each word with intense and sincere meaning.

“I spent so much of the war doing what was asked of me. Winning each battle, completing each mission and that was easy for me, it was comfortable, I knew what I was doing, what my responsibilities were but I was also running on autopilot. I kept moving, doing what needed to be done, it was a routine that I didn’t see myself really breaking f-from. Un-”

He paused to settle his own emotions that rising in his chest and throat. “Until you. You came into my life, and I’d never known I’d been living in a galaxy of grey until I met you and you, with your fire and your strength, brought the colour I’d been missing. You could probably tell from that holo, but everything changed that day and I’ve never been more grateful for it. I knew from the second we met on Devaron that I was hooked. I was yours and I never wanted you to leave. I love you.” He said fiercely. “I love all of you. I love your kindness. I love your mind. I love your courage. I even love your stubbornness, no matter how much stress it causes me. I love how, no matter what, you don’t stop fighting. I love having you by my side, even if you’re arguing with me. I love how you’re always ready to face whatever is sent your way, unless it’s a spider and then you’re more than happy to surrender the room.” He added, the corner of his mouth twitching to hide his teasing grin before he carried on, “I love how you are with Omega. I love how well you fit in with my brothers. I love you in a way I’d never seen myself capable of, yet you make it so easy to do. We’ve been through so much; I’ve nearly lost you more times than I care to count but it also told me something…”

He allowed himself a second to breathe before he went into the final part, “I want it all with you. I know we’ve already got the home, the kid and the dog, and you’ve got the crazy in-laws.” He smiled as you let out a choked but genuine laugh at that. “I want to take the final step with you which is why I’m down on one knee and asking you this question...” He inhaled as he finally asked, “Will you marry me?” He finished and waited anxiously. He really hoped the silent tears running down your face were happy ones.

--

“Wrecker, get in the back, I need to record this, and I cannot see past you.” Tech demanded in a hushed whisper as the four of them watched from behind a cluster of rocks.

“Did she say yes? I can’t hear anything.” Wrecker asked, his voice rising slightly in distress. He didn’t want to miss any of this.

Crosshair spoke up next, “I see tears so it could go either way.”

Omega slapped his arm. “I’m sure they’re happy tears.” 

“Here’s an idea… why don’t we wait to see it all play out first before we start talking about it?” Echo suggested sensibly.

--

His family were quite possibly the least subtle people on the planet. Hunter still hadn’t heard your answer yet, but he could hear them no problem. He waved a hand behind him to signal at them to shut up.

A happy sob mixed with laughter echoed from your lips as you looked past him saw the group of people further down the beach keenly looking on.

You brought your eyes back to Hunter. You had so many things you wanted to say, so many affirmations you wanted to give yet the first dumb thing that left your mouth was an answer in the form of a question, “Are you sure?”

Hunter chuckled as he placed the ring on your finger, the stones dazzling under the moon and fairy light.  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You flexed your hand as you admired the stunning ring. The design of the silver band was simple with a white round cluster diamond in the centre but what really got to you was the two smaller blue diamonds on either side of it. Their shade was exactly like that of your old lightsaber. Your words left you in a frantic state of joy. “It’s beautiful- You got- how- I mean-” You couldn’t find the words. Instead, you just fell to your knees in front of him and kissed him fervently. I love you; I love you; I love you.

Hunter cradled your face in his hands as he pulled away for a short moment to respond, “I love you too.”

Feeling a bit more collected, you pressed your forehead against his. And I meant to say that I am yours too. I may not have realised it then, but I was yours on Devaron. I saw you, spoke to you and I’d never experienced a feeling like that before. I’d spent so much time doubting if I’d made the right choice by leaving the Order, if I was wrong for believing what I did, but then I met this squad. You retreated a couple inches to look Hunter directly in his brown eyes which were filled with emotion, and you added even more devotion to your tone. And I met you and suddenly I finally realised what I’d been missing. So, yes. Yes, I would love to marry you.

Hunter grinned adoringly at you before he kissed you again. Both of you smiling hard as you kissed one another in short, passionate bursts.

A series of whoops and gleeful cries interrupted your moment and the two of you got to your feet just as Wrecker bounded over and picked the two of you up, squeezing tightly.

“Congratulations!!” Wrecker bellowed as he put you down again.

“I’m so happy for you!” Omega cried as she and Batcher went next. She wrapped her arms around both your waists and the dog took turns jumping up on the two of you. “Let me see the ring!” Omega requested enthusiastically as she pulled away from you both. “Ah it’s so pretty!”

“About time.” Echo said kindly with Crosshair nodding in agreement.  

“Indeed.” Tech concurred as he too smiled at you both.

“You all knew?” You asked as you wiped away a few remaining tears with your uncaptured hand.

“You think Hunter could pull this off by himself?” Crosshair said with a mocking scoff in his brother’s direction, but he gave you both a genuine and pleased smile.

“Look, I had the ideas and I just needed help with the logistics of everything.” Hunter still felt the need to clarify.

“So, all of this…” You trailed off and gestured to the stunning set up that had been arranged.

“Yeah, they all helped me out.” Hunter told you. “And it wasn’t like I’d be able to keep it from them anyway.”

“All of you helped?” You repeated again. What had you done to deserve finding such a perfect family?

“I obviously put together the video and I was recording this moment.” Tech stated, adjusting his goggles. “It’s just as well I back everything up or the Marauder getting destroyed would’ve proven to be more problematic than it already was.”

“And Omega and I set this up!” Wrecker boasted proudly.

“And I helped with the ring.” Echo said. “Hunter laid out the design and I knew a guy who knew a guy who owed him a favour.”

“And you?” You asked Crosshair with a smile.

Crosshair feigned an aggrieved sigh.

“You were too late in claiming the set-up job.” Tech recalled. “And Echo and I had very clear responsibilities, you were just too slow.”

“Yes, Crosshair, unfortunately, had the worst job out of all of them.” Hunter revealed.

“Oh?” You regarded Crosshair curiously.

“I had to listen to him panic over and over again about every single detail and doubt in his head over this whole thing. Didn’t matter that we all knew you were going to say yes, he was a nervous wreck. It was up to me to keep him sane.”  Crosshair told you. He truly hadn’t minded, and it had offered more opportunities for him to hone his skills since he was a hand down.

You looked at the man who was usually so put together and who had never let even the most daunting of chaotic war battles phase him. “Seriously?”

Hunter nodded and awkwardly rubbed his hand along the side of his neck. “Yeah, he was the one I needed to knock some sense into me, sometimes literally I might add.” He said with a pointed look in Crosshair’s direction.  

“That way worked the best.” Crosshair said with a nonchalant shrug.

Hunter turned to you again, “And it still wasn’t enough. Believe it or not, I didn’t want to start sweating beforehand.”

You laughed before you addressed all of them. “Thank you. All of you. This was absolutely perfect! I’m so grateful!”

Another group hugged happened before Wrecker and Omega excitedly bounced on soles of their feet.

“Come on, the party’s just getting started!” Wrecker urged.

“Wait, I thought-” You broke off and looked to Hunter.

Hunter gave you a knowing grin. “You didn’t think the people of Pabu were going to let this go uncelebrated, did you?”

You inhaled sharply. “This party…”

“Is also serving as a congratulations on getting engaged.” Tech confirmed as he walked past you. “Hunter and Shep thought the whole thing through.”

“It’s a good thing you said yes or that would’ve been really awkward.” Echo commented with a smile as he too headed back up.

Well, that explained why Hunter was so dismissive of the change in attitudes the two of you had received in recent times as well as his caginess towards certain phrases or questions you asked. And Lyra’s sudden appearance as well as her ‘gifts’ checked out a bit more too. You stared at Hunter, incredibly impressed. “You somehow managed to plan this entire thing and I had no idea?”

Hunter nodded. “A lot of kind people live around us, but the price of their assistance was that they’re terrible at secret keeping and also made my life a living hell.” Hunter kidded before he kissed you once more and led you back the way you came, the delightful cold metal of your ring pressing against his fingers.

--

The walk back up to the colonnade was filled with cheers and celebratory whistles as the two of you reappeared. Much of the party remained the same except now a huge congratulations banner was on display.

Shep came over to you and hugged you. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Shep. For all of it. This is amazing!” You returned his warm embrace.

Shep parted and shook Hunter’s hand. “Everything go well?”

“Very. Thank you for all your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Hunter said gratefully.

“I’m just glad you finally did it. We were all losing hope that it wasn’t going to happen.”

“They were?” You nudged Hunter’s shoulder playfully.

“After we recovered from Tantiss, I was apparently still moving too slowly.” Hunter said lightly.

“We need not dwell on such things now. Please, enjoy the celebrations!” Shep waved goodbye as he went to make the rounds once more.

“Incoming.” Hunter warned you.

“What-” You were nearly tackled by the woman who had clattered into your side.

“About damn time!”

 “That seems to be the general consensus.” You said as you steadied yourself against Lyra’s eager hug.

“Let me see!” Lyra took your hand and gasped in admiration. “Oh, it’s gorgeous!” She then looked to Hunter. “You did good, well done!” She swivelled her attention back to you. “And you! You are going to get the best wedding dress ever! I have so many designs in mind already!”

“Can’t wait for that.” You said and you meant it but that didn’t stop the wary laugh you emitted either.

“My drink is empty, but we will talk more!” With that, she hurried away.

“I’m never going to be able to keep up with her on anything.” You commented as you watched her go, a soft smile on your face.

“Rather you than me. I’m all set.” Hunter said smugly.

Your response was interrupted by an approaching Rodian.

“Courtesy of Phee.”

You and Hunter took the cocktails from the tray the rather timid new island resident offered and looked into each other’s eyes as you clinked glasses. The two of you too caught up in the bliss of the moment to notice that your cinnamon sugar-rimmed glass had tracings of a white powder mixed in amongst it.

--

The next morning

To say you felt like hell would be an understatement. You awakened with a deep groan and rolled over onto your front.

Hunter woke up to the sound and saw that you were awake, but you were face down in your pillow. “And how are you feeling this morning?” He quipped.

You groaned again. “I am going to say this with all the love I can possibly muster… fuck off.” The threat lost some weight since your voice was muffled by the presence of the pillow.

“I didn’t think Jedi could get hungover.” Hunter said, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yes well, I was always making waves one way or another and here is another prime example of that. How many of those damn Phee cocktails did I drink?”

“I only saw you drink one, but the party ran late, and we weren’t together the entire time, but you were with Lyra a bunch, so I figured you were going her pace. You were pretty out of it when we were heading home, you fell asleep instantly.”

The entire evening post that one cocktail was a total blur, so you just had to accept that. The deep pain and nausea you were experiencing just had to be the effects of a first and truly awful hangover. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t plan on that at all.”

Hunter shushed your unnecessarily apology and placed light kisses along your shoulders and down your spine. “What do you need?”

“A lobotomy and a new stomach.” You grunted.

“Naturally… and if I can’t get that arranged?”

You angled your head to face him and rubbed your thumb along his cheek affectionately. “I just need a few hours alone to sleep it off, I’ll be okay.”

Hunter got out of bed and quietly got dressed. “I’ll see what I can find to help. I’ll be back in an hour.” He lightly squeezed your shoulder

You watched him leave and let that concern you’d been feeling take hold. You felt absolutely exhausted and though you’d never been hungover before, something about this felt different but you couldn’t think of what or why that would be.

You pushed it to the back of your mind for now and focused on sleeping and feeling better. You had a future to plan, you weren’t about to let this throw a wrench in things.

--

Hunter had been waylaid by more people who he didn’t have the time to both thank and accept their congratulations from so he was later than he’d told you but the minute he entered the house, he knew something was wrong and it wasn’t because he was late.

That was when he heard the sounds of someone- well it would only be you- graphically vomiting. He dumped the supplies he’d gathered and hustled to the open refresher door where you were hunched over the toilet.

“Sweetheart, how long have you been like this?” Hunter asked, his concern evident as he rushed in and took over holding your hair just as you finished throwing up.

“Uh, when did you leave?” You rasped through sore, heavy breaths as you righted yourself but still remained slouched against small gap between the toilet and the shower.

“An hour and a half ago.” Hunter said quietly as he sat down next to you and stroked your knee in a soft, consoling gesture.

“Oh good, I got to sleep for thirty minutes.” You said wryly through gritted teeth. “Then I guess it’s been pretty much every ten minutes.”

Hunter got to his feet and ran a washcloth under some cold water for you before he dabbed it against your clammy forehead and the back of your neck. “You should get back to bed.” He said tenderly.

“I tried earlier but leaving the bathroom floor isn’t an opti-” You stopped short before you held your head over the toilet bowl and the whole process began again. “Any time you want to take this off, say the word.” You mumbled as you pitifully waved your left hand in Hunter’s direction before another ugly wretch sounded from you and your body heaved as somehow more vomit left your system.

“Enough of that.” Hunter soothed as he gathered your hair again. “I think we need to go see Dalia.”

You managed to shake your head just as the last of your stomach contents dispensed from your system. She was someone people go to with an actual injury or medical problem and this was certainly not that. This was just you not being able to handle your alcohol... it had to be.   

“Then how about Tech?” Hunter compromised quietly as he rubbed delicate circles on your back.

You resisted the urge to wince at the action that usual would bring you comfort but instead was only sharpening the thankfully now dulling ache in your limbs. “No, no. I’m-” You sat back once more and shakily got to your feet. “I think I just hurled my entire insides out which seems to have helped.” You accepted the water from him, and you had to make a conscious effort to drink slowly since your parched and sore throat welcomed the cool liquid. The nausea and general bodily pain were less, and you didn’t want to make a fuss, especially after all that had been done for you the night before. “I’m feeling better.” You said but as you went to step out the refresher, you immediately became lightheaded and swayed violently on your feet.

“Sweetheart, please.” Hunter implored as he caught your shoulders. He’d seen hangovers but this seemed more serious than your typical post drinking consequences and it was worrying him.

“Okay, we can start with Tech.” You conceded as the room finally came back into focus.

“I’ll comm him.”

“No, I want to walk. I don’t think being cooped up is doing me any favours.” You said as firmly as you could convey.

Even in your weakened state, Hunter could tell that was a point he wasn’t going to win an argument on. He gently placed his arm around you as you gingerly made your way to the door.

--

From afar, the Rodian and Twilek watched through macrobinoculars as their target left her home with her joined up with the rest of the clones.

“How is she out and about?” The rodian remarked in astonishment.

The twilek sighed in aggravation. “Remember what the boss said, she’s a fighter and she’s strong. You clearly got the dose wrong. She’s able to be out here cause she had to have thrown it all up.”

“But the boss also wants her alive, I gave the amount I was sure would leave her vulnerable but wouldn’t kill her.”

“Well, we can’t take her whilst she’s surrounded by that group anyway, and even if we get her alone, she needs to be fully incapacitated for us to even have a shot...”

“What are you saying?” The rodian asked nervously. He’d never been as sure or as excited about this job as his twilek partner was, but the money was too good to pass up. But there was a new kind of sociopathic gleam in the twilek’s eyes that unnerved him.

“I’m saying we up the dose until her body can’t fight it.” Life here was slow and the satisfaction he’d glean from watching you and the people around you hopelessly attempt to figure out and fight what was wrong with you was an opportunity too tempting to ignore.

To the rodian, that sounded awfully risky. Both for them and their target. This stuff was extremely lethal even in a small amount. Plus, the longer they lingered, the higher the chance that they’d be discovered. And he knew his poisons- this one was one of his own inventions too- which was how he also knew it was particularly volatile when given in large quantities. The build-up of symptoms was designed to make the recipient so agonised and weakened that they’d wish for a death that would never arrive but that was when administered at regular intervals of the same low quantity– death didn’t have to be the end result, the torture was what one would buy this poison for. But, if they went with this strategy, every deadly symptom would hit you all at once and he knew you’d never survive that which wasn’t useful to their specific remit. However, the twilek had been put in charge and he wasn’t someone he wanted to be on the bad side of. “The boss won’t be happy…”

The twilek dismissed that without skipping a beat, “So, we won’t tell her yet. We just need to get the Jedi to the boss alive for the premium cut of the deal. After that, who the hell cares how she ends up.”  His voice wavered in an attempt to stay level-headed with the rodian. This whole poisoning method was so tiresome- he much preferred a straight fight- but they’d been warned off that with this whole squad. Hence why he was stuck with this jittery rodian who had gotten into this line of work through offering his services and using his skills as an apothecary for what sensitive people would deem immoral uses and gains. But even he had to admit, a Jedi was easier to apprehend if they couldn’t fight back and everyone here was so stupidly trusting, it made getting access to you almost too easy. The trickiest and most time-consuming part would be getting you alone but from their brief, he knew that time would arrive sooner or later, he just needed to be patient.

--

3 weeks later

You finished dry-heaving and risked a glance in the mirror above the sink as you slowly went upright as it became clear nothing was coming up. You regretted that decision immediately.

You barely recognised the person staring back at you.

Your clothes stuck to you uncomfortably. The fever was a new addition as of last week and your hair was slick with sweat, and you wiped away the drops slowly sliding down your temples.

Your face was sunken and devoid of all life.

Dark circles were under your eyes, so dark that they could’ve been mistaken for bruises. There was no light behind them at all, no sign of that lively spark that had once been a constant part of you.

It was as if all your fire and vibrancy had evaporated.

You looked like a shell of a human being.

To top it all off, you noticed spots of blood at the corners of your mouth and in the saliva that you’d hacked up, but you put that down to the strain your throat had been put through. Cleaning up, you took one last strengthening breath but even that was proving to be more effort than you’d expected. You then heard a quiet knock on the other side of the door

You opened the refresher door to see Hunter standing waiting with his now standard worried expression on his face and your flask of water. He’d stopped offering you food in the early stages when it became clear you couldn’t hold it down and even water appeared to be a struggle.

You rejoined the group of people in the living room who were all here to supposedly help you plan the ceremony but all you got was the sea of nervous and concerned expressions from your squad- and that included Echo who had planned to leave once you were feeling better, but that day was yet to arrive- and Dalia. “I’m fine.” You exhaled wearily as you sat down. You thought just flinging yourself into what should’ve been a good distraction would aid in your recovery but, aside from the reduction in vomiting, things weren’t looking that much improved. In fact, you’d probably admit they’d gotten worse. You realised there were two faces missing. “Where are Shep and Lyra?” You asked, your voice strained and hoarse. You rubbed your arms because, despite the humid day, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

Wrecker placed a blanket around your shoulders.

“They didn’t think discussing flower arrangements was a smart use of your energy.” Crosshair remarked in a clipped tone, but it came from a place of care. He, like the rest of them, was growing more and more disturbed as your condition continued to deplete.

You lacked the gumption to argue with him so instead you just nodded in acknowledgement that you’d heard him.

Hunter noted you still hadn’t drunk from the water he’d handed you. He tapped the cup to prompt you to do so. “If you would just lie down...”

You did it for him but even water tasted wrong as it went down your throat and it really didn’t sit well. “Remember that stubbornness you love?” You said through a grimace. Plus, sleep pretty much eluded you these days.

“This is one of those times where it drives me crazy.” Hunter muttered fretfully.

“If I just sit around, I’ll go insane. I-” You lost energy halfway through your attempted to explain your reasoning. Instead, you readied yourself for the medical questions from Tech and Dalia- the town healer- that were sure to come your way now.

“Your fever is getting worse.” Tech observed as he took your vitals.

“Bacta won’t do you any good anymore. You’re just burning it off.” Dalia said as she confirmed Tech’s words.

“And I checked with AZ, his recent round of tests came up with nothing.” Omega said defeatedly, patting Batcher in an attempt to quell her worries.

“So, what else can you do?” Hunter asked Dalia and Tech anxiously. It really felt like they were running out of options. He saw you hunch over in pain, and he didn’t need to touch you to feel the heat radiating off you. He instinctively reached out to offer you some semblance of physical comfort, but he knew that hurt you now, so he stopped himself.

Tech started first, “We can test for-”

You straightened up and once the room stopped spinning, put on a brave face. “Look, we ruled everything out. It’s just stress, Tech. Besides, I’m not even throwing up anymore, it’s just dry heaving so that’s progress.” You said, attempting for levity but you were too exhausted to convey it.

“I’ve seen you stressed; your symptoms were not of this format nor this severe.”

“So, it’s a different type of stress.” You said tiredly as you forced yourself to stay upright.

“And your pain?” Dalia asked as she took examined you as best she could in this particular circumstance. Your medical case was infuriating, one because she liked you and hated seeing you in this state, and two, because she hated not knowing how to help you. Everything she had attempted had proven useless. She knew your ailments but had no idea what was causing them. Your pain wasn’t localised, and no pain killers were working. All she knew for sure was that you were incredibly dehydrated and sleep-deprived, your entire body ached, you couldn’t stomach anything, and you had a fever that was reaching near dangerous levels. How you still functioning had to be due to your special abilities, but it was also a testament to your sheer strength and force of will.

The pain was getting harder and harder to ignore. “Well…” You nervously fidgeted with your ring.

“It’s worse?” Dalia and Hunter said together in the same troubled tone.

“Let’s just say the sedatives you’ve given me to sleep are losing their effectiveness.” You mumbled.

“I can give you a stronger dose.” Dalia offered. It wasn’t a suggestion she liked giving but she was running out of ideas.

“I’m not spending my time half awake and barely alive.” The irony of the comment given your present condition was not lost on you though. “I still get a few hours with what you’ve already provided. It’ll do.” Although, saying you got even a few hours was also a generous statement.  

“You can’t be serious.” Echo couldn’t help but protest, voice rising in concern. “A few hours aren’t enough to-”

“Echo…” Hunter warned. He’d already gone down this path with you and it was something you’d never budge on.

Dalia heaved a sigh as she finished up and took a fresh blood sample for comparison to previous ones. She readied to leave. “Look, me being here throwing useless suggestions your way isn’t helping either. Best I can advise is slow down. I’m going to run through your labs again.” With that, Dalia got to her feet and headed for the door.

“Thanks for coming by.” You said to her, your voice heavy with effort it took to sound somewhat normal.

“For the record, that was not convincing.” Crosshair told you as he took your water canteen to refill it since Hunter was seeing Dalia out. “Why didn’t you take the damn sedatives?”

“If Hunter can’t even get me to do that, what makes you think you can?” You pointed out as you curled in on yourself. You also knew they truly wouldn’t make a difference.

You were growing more and more aware of the reality of your situation, and it wasn’t anything that could be prevented.

--

Hunter caught Dalia’s arm just before she exited. “Dalia, she physically can’t go on like this for much longer. And it’s not just because she’s refusing to ease up. There are days where I can convince her to just stay in bed, but it’s not helping.” He whispered, doing his best to keep his voice level as his worries threatened to overcome him.

“Hunter, I’m sorry. I’m looking into everything, I promise.” Dalia said in a quiet voice. “Tech and I even checked for poisons, but nothing came up. But I’m not going to stop, I swear it.”

Hunter sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know, Dalia. Thank you.” Hunter said sincerely before he shut the door and took a calming breath as he turned around and filled him with both sadness but gratitude. All of them were doing what they could do support you.

He watched as Wrecker and Omega delicately fussed with your blanket, Tech continued to study furiously on his datapad for anything that might correlate to what was causing your illness, and even Crosshair was making sure you were drinking water regularly. But then, he saw that recognisable look in your eyes, and he saw Echo help you to your feet before you staggered to the refresher, and he exhaled shakily as he got control over his own deep anxieties over your condition.

He followed you to the refresher again, ignoring the fretful looks his family were sending both his and each other’s way.

--

You hadn’t managed to lock him out this time, so he was able to enter, shut the door and collect the hair falling forward around your face. Every miserable effort your body put you through in an attempt to rid you of whatever it was that was causing this sickness only exacerbated the strain on your worn out and frail form. He kept trying to not fixate on it because they were all working on figuring this out and he had to believe that someone would find something… because he knew you were running out of time.

You finished up and exhaled a shuddering breath, “It hurts, Hunter. Everything just hurts.” You admitted, your voice racked with agony. You only wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop.

Hunter’s chest tightened. “We’re going to find out what this is.” He promised. He reached for you but hesitated.

The need to be held by him overpowered the subsequent discomfort and you folded into his embrace and let the silent defeated tears finally fall.

--

“I really hate this, you know.” Hunter griped worriedly as he got ready to leave you at the door and spend the night with his brother’s and Omega. Somehow him saying you needed to get to sleep had turned into you sleeping here by yourself. Despite the fact that they’d all wanted to spend the night here; you’d gotten them to agree to leave you alone. How you’d managed to do that, he had absolutely no idea.

You knew he did but with all your tossing and turning in your feverish delirium, he wasn’t getting much rest either and you hated that more than you hated your own sickness. You raised your hand, your arm feeling unnaturally heavy, and placed it on his chest to quell his fears but even that simple action sent a sharp pain through your limbs.

Hunter noticed your efforts to conceal your discomfort and what you’d said in the refresher was still plaguing his head. How could you expect him to leave you like this. “Please let me stay, I really don’t mind-”

“Hunter, you haven’t had a solid night’s sleep since the night of the party. There’s no sense in us both suffering here.” You just about managed to give him a smile of reassurance. “It’s just one night and you’re only a few houses down. If I need anything, I’ll get you on the comm, I promise.”

“I won’t sleep any better away from you. I-”

“But here you have no choice. I need to know you at least had the option.” You insisted as you fought against the urge to slump into his arms. Your entire body felt like lead.

“But-”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” You said with finality before your voice softened. “I’m only asking you do this for one night. Just one night where I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Worry about me?” Hunter repeated with combined fondness and exasperation. At least that sounded more like you. “Sweetheart, the only person that anyone needs to worry about is you and that should include you.”

“What if I promise to spend all my time tonight worrying only about myself?” You offered, a hint of your old spark coming through before it was squashed by another bout of pain settling in your muscles. Your jaw clenched in an attempt to keep your groan contained. You thumb fiddled with your ring in an attempt to distract yourself.

Hunter picked up on that too but not wanting to put you under the strain of further deliberation, released a long, drawn-out breath and managed a stiff and reluctant nod of consent to this idea.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Hunter replied as he caressed your fingertips with his own. It was the closest to an affection gesture that he could offer you now.

“Batcher is going to stay with you.” Omega said with a slightly nervous smile as she patted the hound farewell. “Just in case.” She knelt down in front of the dog and stroked the underside of her chin. “Look after her, Batcher.”

Batcher gave her an affirmative bark in reply before she came and sat by your side.

“Thanks kid.” You waved as she and the others departed but Hunter still lingered. “Go.” You ordered with a half-smile.

With one final look in your direction, Hunter finally forced himself to leave.

You shut the door and braced your forehead against it as a fresh wave of dizziness and pain coursed through your body. You felt a wet nose nuzzle against your hand with a quiet whine. You opened your eyes to see Batcher looking up at you with an intense, concerned stare. “I’m alright, girl.” You winced as you pushed yourself away. You were employing the strategy that if you told yourself that enough times, maybe one day it would prove to be true.

You debated the effort of going all the way to your bed, but your body gave up halfway there, so you decided on the convenience of the couch, Batcher curled up on the floor beside you.

--

Hours had passed. You weren’t sleeping but you were working on attempting to trick your body into thinking it could by keeping your eyes shut.

The sound of barking caused you to finally give up and open them which you did, and you were greeted by the sight of Batcher snarling at the dark shape looming over you and watched as it reacted quickly to the attacking hound and the stun blast took Batcher out before she had the chance to inflict any damage.

To say you reacted sluggishly would be an understatement. You could barely will your body to move out of the way of the threat. Your eyes finally quickly adjusted, you realised it was a male twilek and he was currently sticking a need filled with a clear liquid into your thigh.

You finally slapped his hand away but not before the needle pierced your skin.

You shot to your feet, stumbling slightly as you recovered from the head rush that hit you as a result.

You immediately felt faint.

A fresh wave of intense pain tore its way through your body and the nausea and overall weakness that overwhelmed you was scarily familiar.

It was then you realised what he’d just infected you with was in fact the source your sickness. But what you couldn’t understand was how it didn’t show up on any of the scans and tests you’d undertaken. Even though at the time you’d thought it rather unnecessary, you had been checked multiple times for poisons in your blood, yet this got missed and that was deeply concerning in its own right.

The other concern was, judging by how feeble and breathless you became, this was finally the one that your body couldn’t fight against, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out. If you could just get to your comm…

“You’ve got a very protective group. I thought they’d never leave. Thank you for finally sending them away.” The twilek said, utterly unphased by being discovered. He stalked around the couch and placed himself between you and the front door.  

“How did you get-” You then remembered the open window in your bedroom.

“It’s funny how little people care about the security of their homes and personal effects here. You were basically inviting all of this.” He twirled his blaster with arrogant nonchalance. He saw the way you were clutching your side like you could brace yourself against the pain coursing through your veins and your knees buckled but you caught yourself against the coffee table the move seeing the cup of water fall to the ground, cracking with the impact. “Now, let me see, I’ve been hearing enough about how this poison works to remember some of the effects. Let me guess…” He tapped the tip of his blaster against his chin as he listed them off as you pitifully worked on getting to your feet, “Constant nausea, insomnia, fever, dizzy spells and extreme bodily pain. None of which standard medical can defeat. I’m sure I missed some but those are definitely the highlights. Does that sound about right?”  He taunted.

You forced yourself to stand tall. Your eyes darted to your comm link on the kitchen counter.

“I wouldn’t…” The twilek warned in irritation as he stalked towards you.

You didn’t listen. You channelled whatever energy you had left and landed kick to his stomach- the action causing you more pain than it did him- and made a dash towards it.

Just as you grabbed it, you felt a brutally take hold of the back of your neck and smack your head against the edge of the counter. Blood poured from the fresh cut on your forehead, and you collapsed to the floor with a pained cry and cups and plates came smashing to the ground around you.

You shook away the black spots encroaching on your vision and attempted to crawl along the floor to your discarded comm device, sharp pieces of debris cutting into your palms, your body screaming in agony with the effort.

“I gotta give you credit.” He picked at his cuticles. “You lasted longer than I thought you would but I’m sick of this place so if you don’t mind, I’m going to speed this along.”

You felt a knee on your back and the butt of a blaster smack against your temple, turning your world black.

--

“Did you have to beat her like that? The poison has clearly been working. One stun blast and she’d be done.” The rodian chastised as he saw the twilek unceremoniously dump your freshly bruised body on the floor of the ship. He swivelled in the pilot’s chair and turned the ship on.

“The bitch still put up a fight. Besides, you had your fun with your little concoction. I needed mine. Now, hold on, we’re not leaving just yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Give me two minutes.” With that, the twilek took off the engagement ring and departed the ship.

“You didn’t use that final vial, did you?” The rodian called after him but he got no answer.

--

The following morning

Hunter roused from his restless slumber. It had been a mildly better night but not one he’d be looking to repeat.

He tidied his section of the floor he’d been given- it was a tight squeeze with all six of them here- and put away his sleep mat and spoke to his family who were all gathered in the kitchen, nursing cups of caf. “I’m heading back to check on her.”

“We’ll join you momentarily.” Tech said, his sights fixed firmly on his datapad.

Hunter nodded but as he opened the door, his blood ran cold as he saw what was on the doorstep. He kneeled down to pick it up and a new type of panic sat heavy in his chest.

“Hunter?” Echo had been the one to call over, but they’d all noticed the change in his posture.

Hunter’s head snapped in the direction of the sound of frantic, worried barks and he saw Batcher come sprinting around the corner. He started running, the rest of his squad following close behind.

--

The front room set the scene for Hunter in brief yet terrifying detail.

The floor was a mess of broken glass and smears of blood.

Your comm lay abandoned on the ground.

And you were nowhere to be found.

Hunter couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t best the tightening in his chest and the fear taking root in his heart. All he could hear was a high-pitched droning in his ears and it took everything in him not to succumb to the terror he was experiencing as he realised you had been taken from him. Again.  

Around him, his brothers already started analysing the scene.

“The Empire-” Wrecker began to ask.

“Rex and I have been monitoring them and they have no idea where any of you are. This isn’t them.” Echo disagreed.

“It’s not their style either.” Crosshair stated.

“It is highly possible that a bounty hunter infiltrated this place in. Technically, I believe the price on her head would still stand.” Tech theorised.

“But who would know where we are?” Omega asked him.

“It would be best to consider past interactions and any new people you came across post Eriadu as well as those we already know who can tie us here. Now, naturally that should include Phee and Lyra. They may have accidentally-”

“Tech, no one on this island would ever give her or any of you up.” Echo argued.

Frustrations between all of them started to rise. They were going in circles and they knew your condition only made things that much more urgent.

“I’m very well aware of that fact but the truth is we need to think practically here. Someone knows where we are, and that knowledge has been used against us. Someone with enough skills to what I assume is poison her enough to take her out, and to elude all of us and take advantage of the very foundations of this place. Surely, there is someone that fits that profile.”

“There are too many.” Crosshair countered.

“There’s not way of knowing for sure.” Wrecker agreed with Crosshair. “And she needs us now.”

“Well, we need to start somewhere.” Tech said logically though he had to make an active effort to keep his own anxieties in check.

Meanwhile, Hunter carefully held your engagement ring and remembered the happiness and hope it was supposed to represent. How was that a little over a month ago, there had been so much excitement and joy in his life, and it had been so quickly overturned by pain and suffering. This was supposed to be a new life, a new beginning. You were supposed to be safe here, the threat of Hemlock and the Empire was over. Yet somehow, the past had come back to inflict more damage. Who could possibly have anything to gain from claiming that bounty? Who did they know that was that heartless, that calculated but would use a method so cowardly. And most importantly, knew they were here. Who could’ve- Hunter snapped out of it and pocketed your ring. He interrupted the steady stream of voices, “It’s Cid.”

All of them looked at him in bewilderment as he said that name.

“The Trandoshan from Ord Mantell?” Crosshair double checked since he’d never actually met her, he only knew the name through stories, but he knew that her name had nothing positive to go with it.

Hunter nodded.

“How do you know?” Wrecker asked.

“Because everyone else wouldn’t do this.”

“But wouldn’t we be aware of her presence here?” Tech pointed out.

“Lyra wouldn’t sell us out and neither would Phee. But there’s another link between us and Phee, and that’s Cid. You’re talking about bounty hunters, and we know she doesn’t do her own dirty work. It was her who told, same way she was the one that told the Empire we were here, and now she’s doing it again.” Hunter said, his voice eerily calm. “Tech, how much of the party did you record?”

“All of it.” Tech responded and, already anticipating Hunter’s next question, he pulled up the footage.

All of the gathered round as Tech brought up the recording of the party, increasing the playback speed as the evening unfolded.

Hunter, swallowing harshly as he made himself ignore all the tender moments with you that made that evening feel so perfect, anxiously scanned the flashing scenes in front of his eyes, looking for that first instance where you got infected and where this plan all started. “There!”

Tech paused the video feed.

“Dammit.” Hunter clenched his hands into fists. How had he missed that? How had he let you down that badly? “Dammit.” He hissed again under his breath before he departed and made for Shep’s.

“What did we miss?” Echo asked as the rest of them as they all stared at the frozen image of the rodian with the drink.

There was silence for a few minutes as they all peered at the screen.

Tech inhaled sharply as he next spotted the subtle difference. “The white powder…”

They all ran after their brother.

--

Shep heard an insistent pounding on his door and opened it to see Hunter standing there, breathing hard and there was a panic behind his eyes that he couldn’t hide and to Shep, that only meant one thing. “Is she-”

Hunter wasn’t even going to let him finish that thought. “The rodian from the engagement party. Who is he?” He questioned sharply.

“The rodian?” Shep repeated in confusion. This was the last thing he expected to hear.

“The rodian at the party.” Hunter repeated hurriedly. “He gave us our drink once we got back from the beach. He had yellow skin, quiet demeanour. He was new to the island; I didn’t recognise him.”

Shep recovered quickly. “Yes, yes.” He recalled the one Hunter was referring to. “He arrived with a twilek. They were quiet, mostly kept to themselves.”

“Were?” Hunter repeated and he felt his squad approach from behind.

Shep pointed down the road, “I checked on the temporary housing we provided them to see how they were feeling about the move, but they are no longer there. What does this-” Shep was only met with the sights on all of them racing for that house.

--

Hunter took in the front room. From the clothes left behind and the general disarray in the living space, it was obvious that they’d left in a hurry. He then noticed a puck for long range communications had also been forgotten about and that was the first time he felt a flicker of hope. “Tech.”

“I’m on it.” Tech confirmed as he began working on hacking into the system to trace where the communications went.

Hunter and the others continued to search the house and that was when Hunter spotted an old wanted poster of you nailed to the wall with a knife through your face. Hunter tore it down and curled one into a tight ball in a flash of rage before he composed himself continued searching the area for any sign of where they’d gone.

“Hunter.” Omega called over as she opened a cabinet just above the sink.

Hunter walked over to where the young girl was and took in what she had found.

There was a vast array of discarded and empty vials inside the cupboard which were accompanied by a series of instructions for powder ingestion or liquid injection. Underneath the untidy scrawl, was also a list of symptoms that would accompany each dosage but what caused the fear he was working on supressing to spike was that it seemed to be that their plan had consisted of giving you the second-most lethal one.

But there was no name of the mixture, no list of ingredients to go off of or any signs of a cure. It only served to confirm that what you had been experiencing was a cruel, carefully maintained poisoning.

“I’ve got the location.” Tech announced as he brought up the coordinates to Asusto.

Hunter memorised the number and he knew he’d be able to track you once he landed. Next, he barked out orders like he’d done for most of his life. “Tech, you start getting what you can from these instructions. You thought it was a poison before, do what you can to narrow the list down. Omega, you help him. I’ll confirm what they did once I find them and get the antidote. The rest of you, help Dalia get ready for our return.” With that order, he turned on his heels and ran for home.

--

He entered the bedroom and started preparations to leave all the while doing his best to not let each reminder of you in here to distract him. You needed him focused, not frantic with worry. He reached under the bed and pulled out the case of depleted armour that he’d never thought he’d have to put on again. It wasn’t even a complete set anymore, and it was still scratched and worn down, but it had to do. He grabbed his blaster and vibroblade and got ready to leave.

As he left, he saw that Wrecker, Echo and Crosshair had returned and were all stood there, blasters in hand and in whatever armour they’d had post Tantiss. “No.” He said immediately.

“Dalia can handle setting up herself. You’re not doing this alone. You need us as backup.” Echo reasoned.

“I can’t ask that of you.” Hunter said with a firm shake of his head. This was supposed to be behind them, he wouldn’t inflict this another fight on them.

“You’re not asking, and neither are we. We’re going with you.” Crosshair said definitively.

“Yeah, you mess with one of us, you get all of us!” Wrecker said in agreement.

“I already told Rex and he ordered me to stay here. You’re not doing this alone.” Echo added. “My ship is ready whenever you are.”

Hunter dipped his head in thanks before he led the way out.

--

Your head was pounding.

The cuts on your palms stung.

Everything around you sounded fuzzy- it almost sounded like you were underwater- and from what your semi-conscious self could tell, you appeared to be in some sort of basement. You weren’t cuffed or chained but that was probably because your captors realised you were hardly able to keep your eyes open, let alone plan an attack to get out of here. You could make out their blurry shapes just ahead of you, and you strained to hear why the rodian was in such a state. As you did so, you felt something wet dripping down your face, and you guess the damp basement had a leak somewhere.

“Shitshitshit, this is why I told you not to give her that last dosage!” The rodian cried in a frantic panic.

You felt a coarse fabric scrape under your nose, and you saw the crimson stain of blood as it was pulled away… so, clearly, it wasn’t a leaky roof. You had no doubt that signified the end for you- it was now only a matter of when- but your current disjointed thought process had you worrying more about the fact that the comforting presence of the ring on your left hand was no longer there.

“You wanted her to be an easy grab, I made sure of it.”

“I don’t have an antidote prepared!

“So, make one.” The twilek said with no concern whatsoever.

“With what ingredients? This was never the plan!”

“She’ll be dead before we even leave this room and if the boss doesn’t kill us, the client sure as fuck will!”

“She was as good as dead anyway; I only sped it along.”

“You-”

“How long?” You croaked, interrupting their argument.

The twilek ignored you but the rodian, wringing his hands anxiously, said, “About two hours.”

“Ah.” You said plainly. “Guess you mistimed that one huh?” You winced as you curled into the fetal position as if it could ease the agony coursing through every fibre in your body.

“Just keep your mouth shut.” The twilek ordered as the both of you as they waited for their boss to show up.

--

You had been in and out of consciousness but came around to the sound of the rodian babbling to himself about how everything had gone to shit, and they were seconds away from getting killed. You clued in to the sounds of a door opening and footsteps descending to the basement.

You feebly raised your head and you saw the face you wished you’d never see again. “You bitch. You fucking bitch.” You seethed weakly. The last bouts of your cognitive abilities put it together: Ord Mantell, the Empire on Pabu and now these bounty hunters being able to find you… it all fell into place. “Betraying us twice wasn’t enough for you?”

Cid didn’t let your words bother her. “Money is money and you’re worth a lot of money.”

You attempted to sit up but the best you could manage was propping yourself up on your forearms. “I hate to break it to you, but the person in the Empire who wanted me is very much dead.”

“Who said it was the Empire?” Cid said coolly.

A new type of panic set in but you were distracted by the warm, wet liquid sliding down your face and on to your lips, the iron tang of it burning your tongue.

Cid then noticed the blood steadily dripping from your nostrils. She whirled on the two goons she’d hired. “That’s not supposed to appear until the last stage, how much did you give her?!”

The rodian just glanced to the twilek.

The twilek shrugged. “Look, boss, you told us to use the poison however we saw fit. She needed a hell of a lot more of it in her system, why do you think we took so long?”

“She’s no good to me or the client if she’s dead!” Cid said angrily. “How long has she got?”

A beat of silence.

“About an hour.” The rodian informed her nervously.

Cid cursed under her breath. “We don’t meet the client until midnight!”

“Just push the meeting to now. Get her to the client alive and take the cash and get outta there.” The twilek suggested calmly.

“They’d know something was up. And we’d never get away with it with how she looks like now!”

“You try what they gave me and see how good you look at the end of it.” You muttered in offence, a new type of delirium taking hold of you.

Cid paid you no attention. “What about the antidote?” She asked the rodian sharply. “This is your poison; you must know how to counter it?”

“Aw Cid, I knew you still cared.” You said hoarsely, and everything around you started to move in and out of focus, each haggard breath leaving you acted like a sick form of countdown.

“The ingredients don’t exist here, and I never brought them. It wasn’t supposed to get to this point.” The rodian admitted.

Cid tossed her hands in the air, her own nerves steadily rising. “You idiots! This deal was for a fit Jedi slave, and you’ve given me someone that isn’t going to last the next hour! How-” Her tirade was cut short by the sound of an explosion above them, dust descending from the ceiling with the impact.

“Do you know the great thing about having a family?” You said with a cold laugh. You forced yourself to sit up. You may be fighting a losing battle but one thing you still knew was who the cause of that explosion. You’d sense them anywhere. “We look out for one another.” You glowered at the twilek, “That ‘protective bunch’ are about to become your living hell.”

The twilek only glared at you.

“If they’ve found us, it’s because you left a way for them to track our communications!” Cid said angrily.

“Don’t look at me, he’s the one who was responsible for packing up.” The twilek said dismissively, readying his blaster for the fight he’d finally been waiting for.

“Well, he was the one that taunted them with the ring!” The rodian said in a panic as the thudding of footsteps drew closer.

“Ring?” Cid repeated, her stomach dropping to her feet in fear. She glanced to your depleted form, and the realisation of just what precisely had developed between you and dark and broody since Ord Mantell cemented her fate. She’d royally messed this up.

“You guys are fucked.” You said dazedly as you slouched against the wall and more blood spilled from your nostrils, staining your hands and the ground below.

The door at the top of the basement stairs crashed open and smoke engulfed the room.

--

Three precise shots fired through the smoke.

Cid raised her arms in instant surrender as the smoke dissipated and she saw the state of her hired bounty hunters. The twilek’s blaster had been shot out his hands and he was bleeding from a shot to just below the abdomen whilst the rodian took a hit to his shoulder. Both of them were now sprawled on the floor. She muttered an uneasy curse as she realised what was in store for her.

The effort of breathing and opening your eyes after each blink got tougher to maintain but you recognised the familiar tender touch under your chin from the man in kneeling in front of you. “Hunter.” You said, your voice barely sounding above a whisper. Your eyes flickered open as you took him in.

Hunter wiped away the blood from your face, but it just kept coming, the sight of it heightening his persistent rising panic but he pushed it away. It wouldn’t help you if he let you see how ruined with worry, he was. “We’re getting you out of here, I promise.” He started to lift you to your feet, uttering soft words of comfort and reassurance as you went with him but each rasp and pained whimper from you only fuelled his anger further. “Hold on. Just hold on.” He begged you quietly.

“I’ve got her, Hunter.” Wrecker offered softly as he came to your side and took over. “Hang in there.” He said to you, his gruff voice choking up with emotion as he took your weight and saw the way your face was drained of all life, the blood standing out too brightly against your skin.

Hunter waited until Wrecker was properly supporting you before he turned on the three adversaries. He ignored Cid for the moment, he’d deal with her last. Right now, his priority was getting your cure and for that, he needed the two hunters.

He did a quick scan of the two males, the twilek was gritting his teeth against the pain and his face was a cruel mask of indifference but the rodian was a mewling mess and his heart was pounding so loudly, Hunter had heard it from upstairs which meant that the rodian was his way in.

“Tell me what you did to her.” His voice quiet with lethal softness as he stalked towards him.  

But the rodian said nothing.  

“Fine.” With that, he stabbed the rodian just above the knee and angled to tip of the blade towards his kneecap and pushed. He also clamped his other hand down on the open shoulder wound and paid no attention to the miserable screams that emitted from the rodian.

Crosshair and Wrecker made no move to stop it either. Wrecker kept you propped up while Crosshair kept his rifle trained on the twilek and Echo guarded Cid.

“Fuck! Oh fuck, no!” The rodian yelled as he writhed in an attempt to get away from the blade, but each movement only caused the blade to twist further into his joint.

“What did you do?” Hunter demanded again through the cries of pain. With both hands, he pressed harder.

The rodian spoke through the pain in a rapid, terrified manner, “I’ll tell you everything! I- shit, just don’t do that anymore! It’s called Ghost. I c- created it. We put the powder in her water flask and coated her pain pills in it and spiked her sedatives with the liquid form! It- ow fuck- it can’t be picked up on any medical scans and it’s got no taste or smell but it’s fatal when used excessively. Its main use is torture and incapacitation but for that, it needs to be used precisely. That’s all we wanted to do with her! I swear! But what I calculated for her didn’t work so we upped the dose, but it was too much too quickly. I don’t know how she’s still going.”

Wrecker, Crosshair and Echo had to fight to keep their expressions neutral, but that information shook them all to their core. They’d helped this plan along and the thought left them repulsed.

The horror Hunter felt at the fact that they’d all inadvertently been contributing to your declining health threatened to engulf him. He caught himself easing up on the rodian in the pure gut-wrenching shock of it all, but he gathered himself swiftly. “But there’s a cure.” Hunter insisted, angling his blade further towards the knee.

The rodian yelped in agony. “Yes, there’s- ah fuck- there’s- a- an- an antitode!”

“Shut up!” The twilek hissed command earning him a rifle butt to his face. His nose cracked and blood poured down.

“No way! This shit wasn’t what I signed up for!”

Hunter eased up on his pressure slightly to lure him into revealing more.

“Here, take it, take it.” The rodian winced as he reached into his inside vest pocket and took the piece of paper out- it had been the one critical piece of information he had the wits to remember to remove when they’d left the island- but now he wanted it as far away from him as possible. He felt momentarily relief as the man removed his vice-like grip on his shoulder but that was swiftly replaced by fear as he saw a blaster pointed at his face. “No, please don’t! I promise I won’t tell-”

Hunter killed the rodian with a shot to the forehead. “Get that to information to Tech.” He ordered Echo sharply who took the paper with a nod and swiftly left the room.

Hunter fired two shots into Cid’s knees as she attempted to slip away once Echo departed.

Cid crashed to the ground, hissing in pain.

Your slumped form addressed the other hunter who was still alive. “You two were slipping poison into my system for 3 weeks… didn’t you have anything better to do with your lives?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You, still delirious, mimed applause. “Yup, it did. Extra points for you. Although you’re 30 seconds away from death and I still have a good hour so who’s the real winner here?”

The twilek saw the tattooed solider stalking darkly towards him. He wasn’t going to die begging for his life like his rodian counterpart, he’d done something others could only dream of. “And you’re more than three hours away from Pabu. We beat you, you’re as good as-”

Hunter silenced his words with a single shot of his blaster.

You felt your legs completely give out with the effort it took to remain vertical.

Wrecker, unfortunately had to ignore your moans of since he was left with no choice but to strengthen the grip that he had on you. He didn’t even need to have Hunter’s enhanced senses to see how grave your situation was now. He could barely feel your breaths leaving your body and each time he wiped away the blood, more continued to pour down.

Hunter heard your weak cries of protest, and he turned his attention to the pathetic excuse of an individual crawling on her front away from him, blood streaking the floor from the wounds in her knees. No matter how much he wanted to make this hurt, you were the priority here. He caught up with her is a couple steps, stamped down on her back before he roughly turned her around and replaced his foot harshly on her chest.

Cid couldn’t run. She couldn’t fight. But she knew fine well what was in store for her. “Look, bandana, it was just a bad business deal, okay? I didn’t know they were doing to use so much. You’ve got the antidote, just take it and get her the help she needs.” She said tightly through the pain.

Her words filled him with pure disgust, and he couldn’t stand to hear them anymore. With her out of the picture, it would finally all be over. The constant threat of her wouldn’t plague them anymore.

“You betrayed us three times. You don’t get a fourth.” Hunter said, his voice steely with quiet and controlled rage.

“It wasn’t personal, it was a business deal. I’m sure-”

Hunter cut her off with a shot to her face. He holstered his blaster.

“Move out.” He directed as he came to your opposite side and aided Wrecker in keeping you upright so you wouldn’t choke on the blood gushing from your nose.

--

Wrecker passed you fully off to Hunter as you all entered the ship, and he joined his two other brothers in the cockpit.

Hunter laid you down carefully on the cot, angling your head so you wouldn’t gag on the blood continuing to flow from your nose. He held one cloth over your nose in what he knew was a futile attempt to stem the blood flow before he also grabbed a cold cloth and dabbed at your forehead. Your skin was on fire, your clothes soaked through with sweat and even blinking seemed to be a monumental effort for you. “Hold on. It’s just a little bit longer, okay?” Hunter told you, his voice quivering as he helplessly watched you. It seemed like even breathing was a burden for you now.

You couldn’t even nod. Another shallow breath shuddered through you.

--

Echo had gotten the ship into hyperspace and Tech back on comms. “Tech, we’re heading back. Did you get anything more on the poison?”

“Unfortunately, not more than what you’ve already told me given that it was not on any official record. But I read through what we uncovered in the home. One thing to be thankful for is that, if the instructions we’d already found are accurate, there’s still time. The final stage involved bleeding from bodily orifices. If-”

“She’s bleeding from her nose.” Crosshair interrupted.

Tech’s eyes flashed with alarm. “When did that start?” He asked, his voice grave.

“Can’t be certain but she was bleeding before we got there.” Echo told him, his own nerves rising as he saw Tech’s expression.

“Tech?” Wrecker prompted; he hated the prolonged silence as Tech glanced at his datapad. “What does that mean for her?”

“Omega and I have gathered most of what is needed for the antidote here, but we’re taking Phee’s ship to go to the neighbouring planet to get the final plants required.” Tech said instead.

“That’s not an answer.” Crosshair said, his voice tense.

“The answer wouldn’t do any of you any good. Just get her to Dalia the second you land. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As he disappeared. Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair looked down the hallway to where Hunter was crouched by your side.

“We can’t have been too late, we can’t have been.” Wrecker fretted.

“She’s survived this long. She can do it.” Echo said but it was more to convince himself than anyone else.

“I don’t know how much she has left to give.” Crosshair said, his own worries seeping through as he watched your chest barely rise.

You were already living for longer than you were supposed to but none of them knew how much more of that you could sustain.

--

Hunter had heard the words from the cockpit, but he refused to let them resonate. “I’ve got it.” He said gently as he saw you attempting to take the rapidly growing blood-stained fabric off your face. He removed it, threw it away and made to grab a new one but your gravelly voice stopped him.

“H-Hu-Hunter.”

“Don’t- don’t try to talk.” Hunter advised, swallowing thickly. “Save your energy.”

You didn’t listen and just about managed to make your eyes focus on him. “I- I hav- have to tell you-” You gasped through pained breaths.

“Tell me when you’re better.” Hunter instructed, hoping he sounded like himself even as he felt his own distress rise in his chest, in his throat. He couldn’t stand this, but he needed to stay strong for you.

“I’m not-” You broke off with a sharp, hurt whimper. “I- I’m not getting better.” You could feel your body giving up with every ineffective, weighed down breath.

“Yes. You are.” Hunter took your hand and pressed your fingers to his lips.

“I-I want you- t-to-know that- that I love you.”

“Stop-” Hunter his voice growing hoarser and more wrecked with emotion with every passing second.

“I- I want you-you to move on- I want you to-to live.”

Hunter stroked hair back from your burning brow. “I can’t do that without you.” He whispered but he could from the distant look in your eyes tell that his words weren’t landing as the fever had ultimately taken its deadly grip.

“I- I would’ve married you.”

“You still will.” Hunter said as firmly as he could manage but it required pushing away more doubt than he cared to admit.

“I…” But you trailed off as you finally welcomed what you had been resisting for so long.

“Keep your eyes open. Please.” Hunter pleaded, his voice breaking as he saw you take one deep, crackling breath as you slowly blinked.

You wanted to. You wanted to so badly, but you felt like the end would be the only thing to give you any semblance of relief. Your eyes flickered shut and darkness took over.

Hunter hung his head and held your hand tightly, and he could only watch your signs of life slowly fade away. “Stay with me.” He begged your unconscious form through a strangled breath as he hoped some part of you would register his words.

Your pulse was thready at best, your breathing ragged and shallow.

Your entire body was shutting down and there was nothing Hunter could do to stop it.

--

Thanks to Tech’s efforts, Dalia’s home had extended and doubled into a well-functioning medical centre with enough beds and equipment to cope with whatever came her or the island’s way. It had felt a bit excessive, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and today, that was good thing.

“Put her here!” Dalia ordered as Echo slammed open the door for Hunter and Wrecker to hurry through, your body hanging weightlessly between their arms. “AZ, prep her and check her vitals.”

“Where’s Tech?” Hunter asked urgently as he placed you on the hospital bed.

“I don’t know. He should’ve been back by now.” Dalia said as she got a cooling blanket for you as AZ worked on stopping the bleeding before she gathered up the part of the cure that was already made up. She’d barely finished her sentence when Tech came sprinting through the door.

Tech stopped short when he saw the perilous state you were in but recovered quickly. He handed the final components over before he made to depart but stopped as he realised that his brother was making no move to do so.

“Hunter-” Tech tried to reach and take a hold of his arm, but Hunter shook him off.

Wrecker made to do the same but got the same result.  

“Hunter, you need to leave.” Dalia insisted as she busied about prepping the antidote whilst AZ continued doing what he could to stabilise you.

“I can’t.” He croaked; his voice barely audible as he stared at your practically lifeless body. He needed to know that you’d be okay, he couldn’t leave you like this.

“If you want her to live, you need to let me work and I can’t do that with you here.” Dalia said bluntly. She cared for all of them and hated seeing this happen but there wasn’t time to be gentle, you were barely hanging on and your health outweighed politeness.

Tech nodded to Wrecker to leave first before he turned his attention to his unmoving older brother. Tech understood Hunter’s reluctance and he too found himself not wanting to leave until he knew you were at least stable, but he was just about clear-headed enough to realise their presence was a hindrance. “Come on, Hunter.” Tech tried again and this time, Hunter let him take a hold of his upper arm to guide him out.

Hunter could barely move his feet- Tech was doing most of the work for him. He saw the concerned faces of his squad staring past him into the room but as he turned around to get one last look at you, the door shut.

The door shut on him but not before he heard it.

He heard the sound that was going to haunt him for the rest of his days. The low drone of the machine chilled his body to the bone and his knees collapsed out from under him. If it wasn’t for Wrecker’s firm grip on his shoulders, he would’ve just crumpled to the floor.  

Hunter wasn’t a medical expert, but he knew what a flatline sounded like.

--

What was complete devastation was soon replaced by raw, unbridled desperation. It swallowed him whole as he thrashed against Wrecker’s grip on him in his fight to re-enter that door.

“Hunter, stop, stop.” Omega managed to dart in front of him and take a hold of his hands. “You’ve done all you can. Fighting won’t help her or you.” She did her best to soothe him or at least get him to stop struggling against Wrecker’s hold.

The best Hunter could do was let her words and touch stop his insistence to get back to you, but he was practically hyperventilating. Cid had put them through a lot, but this had affected him in a different, more visceral way. The cruelty of everything she’d planned out and attempted to execute cut him to his core. “I did this.” He said in quiet horror and that admission opened the dam.

Once Hunter eased up, Wrecker released his hold, but he remained close by just in case. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Hunter lost all emotional control. “I should have stopped this!”

They’d all been anticipating this and knew Hunter needed them now. He’d kept it together for as long as he physically could but what they felt when they heard that flatline, he would be feeling ten times over.

“No, you couldn’t have. None of us knew what this was.” Tech reminded him.

Hunter’s panic and anger were leaving him unrestrained now. He couldn’t stop. “I watched her drink from that glass the night of the party, and I didn’t notice! I just watched it happen and did nothing! What good am I if my mutation can’t even protect the people around me!”

“It was impossible to trace. There was a reason your enhanced senses couldn’t detect this; it was inherently designed against them.” Tech emphasised.

He couldn’t handle the logic right now. It didn’t matter. All he knew was what had happened to get you here and what’d he’d failed to protect you from. “I was killing her, Tech! Every day I gave her that damn flask, forced her to take those injections and painkillers, I was killing her!”

“No. The poison was.” Echo interjected.

“Which I was only helping along! Cid might as well have hired me for the fucking job! She kept telling me that she didn’t want them but took them because she was doing it for me!”

“Hunter, you didn’t know.” Omega tried again but the clone only shook his head in harsh self-deprecating dismissal of her words.

“I should have! I-”

“And if you’re going to blame yourself for doing what you naturally thought was the only way to help her, then blame all of us because every single one of us did that.” Crosshair said bluntly but he was only speaking as frankly as he was because he knew his brother would never assign that blame to them and he needed Hunter to hear how ridiculous and pointless it was to put something like this on himself.

That felt like a punch to the gut, and it took the remaining fight out of him. But he welcomed it. The last thing he’d do would be and he could hear your voice in his head telling him to see the bigger picture here. “I know you’d never-” He broke off and tried again. “That wasn’t what I meant. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“And it’s not yours.” Wrecker echoed again as he moved to now rest a solid, calming hand on his brother’s shoulder like he’d done in the months post the disaster of Ord Mantell.

Hunter took a deep, grounding breath, before he nodded to Wrecker to indicate that he wasn’t going to do anything foolish. He stayed standing whilst his family sat in the waiting area chairs.

Now, all they could do was wait.

--

Hunter was on step 864 when he ceased his nervous pacing a half second before the door finally opened.

The others all got out of their chairs once they “How is her condition?” Tech questioned the healer.

Dalia inhaled deeply. “She’s alive.”

Hunter couldn’t help but think there was a silent ‘for now’ that was in amongst Dalia’s tone. He’d been all too aware of what was happening behind that closed door. The announcement hardly brought him solace. There was only a slight easing to his churning stomach and frantic heartbeat as he waited for her to get to the crux of what she had to say.

“Can we see her?” Wrecker inquired.

Dalia hesitated before replying, “I would wait.”

“Why?” Crosshair asked warily.

“She flatlined three times but we got her back. However, she’s not awake yet.”

Hunter choked on a breath as she confirmed what he feared he’d heard again throughout the day.

“Not awake?” Echo repeated.  

“But she will wake up, right?” Omega asked anxiously. “You gave her the cure, so she’ll be okay, won’t she?”

Dalia slowly elaborated on what she meant, “It’s possible that with the toil the poison took on her and with the amount of strain on her body... well, I just don’t know if she’ll wake up. AZ and I going to monitor her for changes, but I’d suggest going home until you hear from me.”

“That’s not happening.” Hunter rasped, but there was no mistaking the intensity behind his words.

“Hunter-” Dalia started.

“We’re staying here.” Crosshair said, backing up Hunter’s statement with his brothers nodding their agreement too.

“I don’t know how long it’ll be before we know anything more.” Dalia said truthfully.

“We’ll wait.” Tech said firmly.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to change their minds, and she didn’t really expect to anyway, Dalia bowed her head. “Very well.” She said before she walked back into the room.

--

The hours ticked by painfully slowly.

Then the hours turned into the next day.

And the next.

Shep, Lyra and Phee had periodically come by both to check in and to bring food and blankets since it was obvious that none of them would leave until they knew your fate.

“Any updates, brown eyes?” Phee asked, laying a caring hand on Tech’s shoulder.

Tech rested his hand on top of hers. “It’s still touch and go.”

“And how’s he?” Lyra inquired with a nod in Hunter’s direction but all she got were a series of uneasy looks.

“As far as we’re aware, he hasn’t slept or eaten.” Echo said worriedly.

“Nothing? Can I bring something else? He should eat something.” Shep offered.

“We’ve tried. He won’t take anything.” Wrecker replied, voice rough with tiredness and emotion.

“I’ve got it.” Omega said as she came over and took two of the prepackaged meals.

--

“I brought you some food.” Omega said delicately as she approached Hunter who looked utterly exhausted.

“I’m not hungry.” Hunter said gruffly.

“Eat.” Omega ordered more insistently this time.

“Omega…” Hunter just shook his head.

“She’s going to make it. And you’ll need your strength to see her once she’s up. You know it’s true. So, eat.” She instructed again.

Hunter took the plate with a tired sigh and allowed the young girl to rest her head against his shoulder as the two of them ate and sat in the closest thing to relaxed silence he’d experienced since coming back.

--

Nightfall had arrived on the third day and there was still no word.

The others had all been in and out of restless naps as they waited.

The only thing keeping Hunter mildly calm was the young girl whose head was currently resting in his lap as she slept. Her soft, regular sleepy sighs allowed him some form of meditative relief as he sat there waiting for news. He adjusted the blanket as it slipped down her shoulders.

Another 15 minutes passed before Hunter heard signs of life making for the door. And his head snapped up as Dalia and AZ walked into the waiting area.

The rest of them instantly got to their feet.

Hunter gently roused Omega from his lap as they both stood, and he could hear his own anxious heartbeat in his ears.

Until now, AZ had been the one to give them sporadic updates. If Dalia was out here, that only meant one of two things…

“She’s awake.” Dalia said through a weary but delighted sigh.

Hunter braced his elbows against his knees. He covered his face with his hands and inhaled and exhaled shakily as he resisted the urge to release a relieved sob.

There was a collective breath realised as they all heard her say those words.

“Thank you, Dalia.” Hunter just about managed to say as the crushing weight of his stress and worries lifted from his shoulders, and he felt strangely disconnected from every other sensation in his body as he fully comprehended that you were safe… that you were alive.

“She’s asking for you.” Dalia said, squeezing his shoulder.

As Hunter steadily walked towards the door, some part of him felt like maybe this was all a cruel dream and he’d wake up back in that waiting area to find that you were gone. That thought soon vanished as he saw you gingerly sitting up in the hospital bed.

--

“Hey.” You said with a real but still weak and tired smile as you saw him standing there.  

A strangled yet elated noise left his lips as he heard you speak.

“Yeah, I know I don’t look too hot right now.” You said with faint tracings of humour. But as you fully took him in, you realised that wasn’t what you needed to do.  

He wasn’t ready for that yet. Everything to too fresh, too intense for him to let this become something to joke about. He caught sight of you old, bloodstained clothing and all the emotions he’d been suppressing came to a head. “I never should’ve left you.”

“You weren’t to know.” You said as you realised you didn’t need to put on that front you had been prepared to maintain. You allowed your voice to soften, and you relaxed further into the bed as you no longer felt the need to act like you could just jump out of the cot. “But you got me out and back here in time.”

“No, I didn’t.” Hunter said with self-directed frustration. “You died.”

Dalia had filled you in on what had happened, but you didn’t know the extent to which he’d been around for that but now your own tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you realised what he’d had to go through. You knew how you’d be if you’d been in his position and it was something you could hardly bare to imagine so, for him to have witnessed what he did, it was no wonder you could sense his fear tearing him apart. “Hunter-”

“It’s a rare thing for me to feel as helpless as I have these past weeks, especially on that ship departing Asusto. It was a new kind of terror. I’ve always known at least something to do, but I couldn’t do anything to help cure you. Taking care of Cid was the last thing I could do for you and for the safety of this family.” He inhaled shakily, “But then I had to watch the poison destroy you and I couldn’t do anything.” Tears were running down his face, but he didn’t care. “You knew you were going to die, you told me as much on the ship. You told me to live, to move on. I heard each flatline. I heard you get ripped away from me time and time again, and I couldn’t take it. Each time I thought you wouldn’t fight your way back, a part of me died out there and if Dalia had come out there to tell us you were gone, that part of me wouldn’t ever come back. I’d exist but I wouldn’t live. Don’t ask me to move on because I can’t, I love you with all I have. You’re the other half of me and if you are ever taken from me like that again, that half goes with you.” He finished with a breath that was half exhale, half sob.

You wiped away a few of your own tears at his words. “Come here.” You whispered as you reached for him- for your other half- and moved to the other side of the narrow cot. “And it’s not going to hurt me.” You added in reassurance since you knew that’s where his concerns would instantly go.

Hunter swallowed through the lump in his throat and finally moved towards you and shifted into the bed.

You kissed away the salty tears on his cheeks and rested his head on your chest. You felt a little pressure at the action, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. “Hear that? I’m still here.”

Hunter closed his eyes as he listened to the thudding that emitted from your chest. It still wasn’t as strong as it usually was, but it was there, and it was steady and that’s what mattered.

You delicately stroked your hands through his hair as you rested there. You focused on his warmth, his weight on your chest, and you’d never felt more content. You felt your spark coming back with each breath and so long as he was still with you, everything else now would fall into place.

--

Upon hearing rising voices and footsteps, Hunter had just sat back down in the chair by your bedside, when Dalia re-entered with AZ whirring behind her.

“What the status?” You asked the healer as you also heard the faint sounds of protests behind the shut door.

“With you or the insistent group outside?”

You chuckled quietly, “Why don’t we start with me?”

“I want you to stay here for at least a week. We need to get you rehydrated and start reintroducing food into your system and I want to give you one more dose of the antidote to make sure all the poison is out of your body. Does that sound acceptable? Bearing in mind that I know how you are, but I will really only take one answer.”

You laughed at that, “Yes, that sounds good, Doc.”

“Now, there is a rather eager group of people out there and I don’t know how much longer they’re prepared to listen to me telling them not yet. Can-” She got cut off by the door opening.

“The answer was not very.” Echo said apologetically as they all entered.

“Oh, for goodness sake…” Dalia muttered.

“Five minutes?” You requested with delicate politeness.

“Okay, fine but I draw the line at the dog.” Dalia said with a roll of her eyes as Batcher went of her hind legs and placed her front paws on the bed by your feet.

Omega whistled and hustled Batcher out of the room before she rejoined her brothers.

“Five minutes.” Dalia reminded you as she and AZ made to give you privacy.

“Dalia, I don’t even know how to thank you. I-” You began to say as the healer walked away.

“Don’t waste your precious time now.” Dalia said but she bowed her head in acknowledgment of your words before she shut the door.

“And I also believe I owe you all a rather large thank you.” You said appreciatively.

“Don’t mention it.” Echo stated with a smile as he gave you a happy squeeze.

“Just don’t scare us like that again.” Wrecker implored as he took his turn.

“Trust me, that will not be something I am looking to re-experience.” You said agreeably.

“I should hope not.” Hunter muttered as he kept a tender yet secure hold of your free hand, his fingers finding a natural place resting on your pulse as a way to ground himself in this moment and remind himself that it was real.

Tech studied the screens next to you and tapped at his datapad. “Your condition has stabilised considerably. I would agree with Dalia’s recommendation for a course of-”

“Hey, no staring at my vitals or talking about my health until you give me hug.” You just about managed to hold your arm open expectantly but it was a rather pitiful attempt since you were still feeling pretty weak, but the resultant pathetic appearance probably aided your request.

“Very well.” Tech said through a sigh, but his brief embrace was heartfelt and warm.

“You know, if you wanted out of the engagement, there are easier ways to go about it.” Crosshair quipped as he came in last, but the relief was evident in his face.

“Ha ha.” You drawled sarcastically as you accepted his hug too.

“How are you feeling?” Omega asked and she placed her arms around you.

“Exhausted and still a little sore but alive which seems to be a bit of a surprise.” You said lightly.

“A bit?” Echo repeated with a shake of his head.

“Keeping you on your toes, Echo. That’s me.” You kidded.

There was a combined reaction of eyerolls and heads shaking in disbelief.

“And hey, we gotta find the silver-linings of this whole thing eventually. If you guys hadn’t left me that night, I wouldn’t have gotten the antidote. We’d never have figured it out.” You reminded them, absentmindedly stroking your thumb along the back of Hunter’s hand.

“I knew you were going to say that.” Hunter murmured, the tracings of a smile in his tone.

At that, you angled yourself to face Hunter once more. “I’m also really hoping you have something of mine?” You asked quietly as they all stood around the bottom of the bed.

Hunter kissed your forehead and finally allowed a proper smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. “Do you want the speech again? Cause I have a few amendments.”

“Tell me tomorrow.” You said with a loving grin in his direction.

Hunter gently took your left-hand in his. “You know this is forever, right?” He murmured.

“I do.” You breathed in joyous relief as the ring slid back onto your finger.

Hunter pressed his forehead against yours in and nuzzled into the side of your face as he kissed your cheek.

All of you silently absorbed the moment that finally, finally your new lives could begin.

Next Oneshot>

Taglist: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @moonychicky, @arctrooper69, @dizzy-9906 , @nightmonkeysstuff , @allthingsimagines , @thegreymarveljedi , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia , @justsomerandompersonintheworld

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: an emotional rollercoaster

pairing: xander hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you hate rollercoasters but with a little persuasion xander manages to get you on one only you’d forgotten how badly you couldn’t handle them

warnings: dizziness/feeling faint

a/n: hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

“No!” I exclaim for the fiftieth time , throwing my head back and laughing.

“Please,” Xander begs, pulling out his puppy dog eyes.

Usually they’d work but with what was at stake I was not about to let them win me over this time.

I turn my head stubbornly, “no.”

“Please!” he says desperately.

“Xander I already told you I’m not going on any of these,” I remind him with a smile.

I mean I wasn’t going to come at all, it was a miracle Xander got me out of the house. Theme parks were not my scene, I hated rollercoasters and people and crowds and basically everything about the place. Still, Xander had begged me to go and I had obliged. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

“They’re honestly not that bad,” he says, glancing up at one of the largest death-inducing machines of mankind.

“Nu-uh we had a deal,” I reply stubbornly, “I would come to the theme park and watch everyone else if I didn’t have to go on any of the rides.”

He looks at me pleadingly, “just one.”

“No Xand I hate them,” I deadpan.

“You could handle this one easily,” he rolls his eyes playfully pointing to one with about six loops.

“I told you about my rollercoaster trauma!” I exclaim, glaring at him.

“You were five and under the height limit,” he reminds me.

“And I still passed out,” I almost yell.

“Just one tiny weeny little ride,” he says, squinting excessively and making weird hand gestures as if I’d magically be convinced.

“No,” I chuckle, “how do you not understand that word?”

“He hasn’t since he was about two,” Jameson chirps in passing, walking off to a food cart with Avery, “you’ll get used to it.”

Xander jabs him in ribs as he passes and the turns back to me. A stubborn dog with a bone. Nearly as stubborn as me.

“Come on,” he sings, “you know you want to.”

I raise an eyebrow, “in what alternate universe is that?”

He opens his mouth to reply but I already know what he is going to say.

“The answer is no,” I reply.

“What if…” he grins with that mischievous Hawthorne look in his eyes, “…you ride this one with me I’ll buy you ten books on the way home.”

I stop. Physically come to a halt to process the possibility. Ten books. Ten whole books. It’s an irresistible offer and he knows it.

“Even the limited edition version of shatter me?” I test him.

I’ve been begging him for months and the only reason he’s said no is because I have five other copies at home. Even though I insist this one is a must, he strongly disagrees.

He sighs, his chocolate eyes flicking to me with a withered expression, “yes even the limited edition of shatter me.”

My jaw drops as I grab his arm and I almost start to jump up and down, “are you kidding?”

“One ride baby and it’s all yours,” Xander winks back.

There’s a long pause. I hate rollercoasters, I hate theme parks, I hate the thought of going on a ride but I love books, I love the shatter me series and I would love limited edition copy…

Decisions, decisions…

“Fine,” I grumble.

His whole face lights up and my heart swells, I love it when he looks like this, “you’re serious?”

“One ride for ten books one of which a limited edition, sounds like a pretty good deal for me,” I shrug, the nerves creeping in as I realise what I’m really getting myself into.

“So you mean for the whole of today I could’ve bribed you with books,” he says, staring at me like I was his world as he tucked my hair behind my ears.

“Probably,” I nod.

“Damn it,” he mutters.

I poke my tongue out and begin to walk again.

Xander laughs and holds my shoulders, softly turning me around, “the line is this way honey.”

He steers me over to an extremely lengthy queue leading to something I knew I seriously did not want to set foot on. I gape at the line.

“It’s worth the wait,” Xander explains, reading my expression.

“Indeed it is,” comes a familiar voice. I spin around to find Jameson behind me, joining the queue.

“Where did you come from?” Xander asks.

“The food cart line was too long and I got distracted,” he shrugs.

“And we’ve wanted to do on this all day,” Avery adds pointing up.

I stare at her, “this?”

“Yep,” Jameson nods, leaning on the railing, “so how comes Xander’s roped you into this one.”

“He promised me books,” I explain.

He grins at Xander, “smart one.”

He looks around, “where did everyone else go?”

“Lib went on the death drop again and of course Nash said yes to going with her practically with hearts pulsating in his eyes,” Jameson continues .

“She’s addicted to that ride,” Xander chuckles, shaking his head

I tilt my head to admire him. It‘s hard not to. I like to just watch him sometimes, the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards every few seconds, the way his eyes light up when he talks to his brother, everything, I loved everything.

“I know,” Jameson hums in response, “Grayson and Lyra made a bet on who could walk in a straight line and not spill any water after the teacups, my money is on Lyra.”

“Mine too,” he says, “how does Gray think he stands a chance with all the pirouettes she can do?”

Jameson shrugs, “ he’s a stubborn idiot.”

“Not like you can say much then,” Avery smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jameson slips an arm around her waist and pulls her in, “that one hurt heiress.”

“What a shame,” she murmurs, her gaze pinned to his green eyes.

From then on their conversation sort of blurs. There’s sound but I don’t identify any of the words. It’s all in the background, I’m too busy analysing the death wish to which I’d signed a forever binding contract to. How had I managed to be persuaded so easily?

“Don’t look so petrified,” Xander mumbles into my hair, wrapped his around me from the back and reeling me into his chest.

“It’s a little difficult,” I reply, not breaking eye contact from the rollercoaster.

“You might love it,” he says.

“Trust me when I tell you, I will not,” I scoff.

“I can’t believe he convinced you,” Avery says, shaking her head.

“I am magical like that,” Xander responds and I can hear the grin I loved so much in his voice.

“Sure,” Jameson rolls his eyes.

“Hey!”

I look at Jameson, “have you been on this one before?”

“Only a thousand times,” Jameson grins, “me and Xander used to stuff things in our shoes to surpass the height limit so we could go on with Nash and Gray.”

My jaw drops without my consent, “and none of you have ever died?”

“Well Gray’s a bit emotionally dead but-“ Jameson begins, when Avery whacks him and gives him a sharp warning look, “hey ow! let me finish! But that has nothing to do with a rollercoaster.”

“Good to know,” I sigh.

“You’ll be fine,” Xander soothes, rubbing my and own my arms, “don’t worry about it.”

“Unless you fall out,” Jameson smirks, “then you most definitely won’t be fine.”

Avery’s glare becomes more piercing and a fear I wasn’t used to seeing in Jameson flickers across his face. Usually it would amuse me to see him scared but right now I was too focussed on my own worries.

“Jamie don’t be mean,” she snaps.

“I mean it’s a fact if you fall out-“

“Pay no attention to what comes out of his mouth,” she cuts him off, addressing me, “I don’t half the time.”

“Ouch heiress you know how to cut me deep,” Jameson winces holding the left side of his chest.

Avery takes a step closer to him, tilting her head up softly to meet his gaze, a small smile laces her lips, “I know how to do a lot more than that.”

I watch them, wondering if me and Xander ever looked that in love.

“Guys, get a room,” Xander announces.

I wrinkled my nose.

“I didn’t even mean it like that!” Avery exclaims.

“Sure!” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

I step to the side and tilt my head seeing the endless queue of people. If the queue is as long as I think it is I might never reach the front. Perfect I wouldn’t have to die on a rollercoaster, just in the line for one.

“How long is this queue?” I ask, changing the subject

“Not that long,” Jameson shrugs, “wait time’s only an hour.”

“An hour?” I gape in my surprise, “people queue an hour for this?”

“Says the girl who camped out when Holly Black came to a book signing,” Xander teases.

I fold my arms and stare at him with my eyebrows raised, “your point?”

“This is people’s Holly Black book signing,” he explains.

“This?” I almost yell in disbelief, “this death trap?”

“Precisely.”

I shake my head, “I will never understand people.”

“That’s what I love about you,” he winks.

I narrow my eyes as he takes the small of my back into his palms, “the only thing?” I ask softly.

“Of course not,” he grins, “but if I sat here and listed it to you we’d be dead before I got to the end.”

“How morbidly adorable,” I reply dryly, secretly melting inside.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with something that made my heart race, “I love you.”

“If you loved me I would not be in this line,” I deadpan.

“And if you loved me you’d ride this rollercoaster with me,” he counters, poking his tongue out.

“See I never said I loved you back when you told me you loved me,” I shrug.

“Your eyes did though,” Xander replies, making my cheeks tint a gentle pink colour.

A smile breaks out into my face and steals away my features, “what did I tell you about reading my eyes?”

“Are you two quite finished?” Jameson coughs.

“No we haven’t snogged yet,” I snap back, “shut up.”

“I mean you can’t say a lot Jamie,” Xander adds, “you and Avery are x rated compared to us.”

“We are not x rated,” Avery steps in.

“Oh so when I walked in on you-“

“We’re in public Xander,” Jameson yells, panic and desperation flickering through his eyes.

Xander smiles satisfactorily, “that’s what I thought.”

“Let them have their moment Jamie,” Avery murmurs softly, taking his hand.

I look back to Xander, “where were we?”

“You were complaining about my eye reading tendencies,” he answers, flashing me a grin.

“Well,” I shrug softly, “it’s not fair you know what I’m thinking all the time.”

“You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” he whispers, forehead pressed against mine.

“Hmmm,” I hum.

“I’m thinking I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, his voice is low and in the back of his throat, making my insides go weak.

I let my lips nearly sit on his, “then why aren’t you?”

He smiles and slowly initiates this kiss. His lips brush over mine so gentle and tentative. His hands slide in my back, then around my neck and finally cupping my face.

“Has that helped with the nerves?” he asks a hint of seduction in his voice that he only used when we were in particular circumstances.

“You might need to do it again,” I say with doe eyes.

“I don’t want to traumatise too many kids we might get kicked out,” he chuckles.

“If we get kicked out that means I don’t have to go on this ride,” I beam.

“That’s why we’re not getting kicked out,” he says, booping the tip of my nose.

I sigh. It was worth a shot.

“It feels like I’ve moved nowhere,” I complain, peering down at the line that’s just as long as before.

“They’re very little steps,” he reasons.

I say, my aching limbs weighing like lead, “Xand my legs hurt.”

“Come here then…”

He opens his arms and I lazily lean on him like he’s my life support. He wraps his arms around me and brings me into a comforting hug. I’d always loved being in Xander’s arms, he was hands down the world’s best hugger. I felt safe and warm and loved.

“You tired?” he asks, probably noticing my eyes drooping slightly.

“Mhmmm.”

He laughs, “you look so cute right now,”

“Stop it,” I blush, shying away from his gaze.

“You do,” he says, “your face was all squished.”

“Oh thanks,” I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“I love it.”

“That is not a compliment,” I say, leaning back onto him again. My wimps of legs aching as if I’d never held my own weight up before.

“Here get on my back,” Xander offers.

“You want go piggy back me?” I raise my eyebrows, folding my arms.

He looks me dead in the eyes, as serious as Xander gets, “yes, I want to piggy back you.”

I hesitate before I remember who I’m dating, then I shrug, “okay.”

And with that I just casually hopped onto his back and rebranded myself of his personal backpack.

“I feel like a koala,” I murmur into his ear.

“Don’t koalas usually cling onto the front?” Xander asks.

I shrug, “I don’t know, I’m not a koala expert.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and slump onto him. I can feel my nerves growing. I’ve tried to suppress them and distract myself from feeling them but now they were on the rise the closer to the front we got. I subconsciously play with the fabric of Xander’s shirt rubbing the fibres gently between my fingers over and over in a rhythmic pattern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me. He knows me so well it hurts.

“Oh,” I murmur, a little consumed in my own anxious thoughts, “no nothing.”

“You sure?”

I hum in response as we take another step closer to the front of the queue. From the amount of people in front of us I assumed we’d be in the next lot to board. I chew the inside of my lip accidentally piercing it, the taste of metal filling my mouth.

“Xand,” my voice shakes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to do this,” I tell him.

He sets me down and places him hands on my hips, “what are you scared of?”

“Dying,” I reply immediately.

“Well that’s not going to happen at all and I can tell you that for sure,” he comforts.

“What if it does?”

“I won’t let it,” he replies, “besides we’re in the queue now there’s no turning back.”

“There is I can turn around right now and walk back that way,” I say pointing behind him.

Xander grins, “no no no, we are here now.”

We take another step forwards and the people infront of us begin to get on. We’re getting closer and closer to the start. My heart pounds in my chest, I can hear it roaring through my ears.

I stumble backwards in a panic, “I can’t do this, I actually can’t do it.”

“Yes you can,” he says gently, “I’ve got you.”

“Xander,” I exhale rubbing my temples, “I am freaking out.”

“Hold my hand.”

“Unless your hand has some magic anti-panic power that is really not going to help,” I exclaim.

“Good thing I’ve been brushing up on my sorcery,” he jokes with a witty expression.

“Xand I’m serious,” I hyperventilate with a deadly look in my eyes.

“Well you’re on it now,” he shrugs.

My jaw nearly drops, I’m sat on the rollercoaster and I hadn’t even realised I’d gotten on. I’d been too focussed on my mess of feelings that I’d been led on.

“I think I should get off,” I squeeze his hand.

“If you really want to you should,” Xander says with a soft look in his eyes.

I don’t move. My brain is telling me to but some force is pulling me down to my seat. Maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself or maybe I just really want that book. Whatever it is, I remain where I am.

I look at him with a determined sharpness in my eyes, “give me your hand.”

He beams widely and extends his arm, squeezing my palm in his.

“If you let go of me I will kill you,” I snap.

He tilts his head to the side and shoot me a lopsided grin, “I’ll never let go of you.”

And then it begins.

***

I had my eyes closed for the whole ride, screamed even when it had stopped and probably made Xander’s hand go purple with how tightly I was squeezing it.

The world spins as we get off and I stumble to meet the others.

“You’re looking a little pale there y/n,” Nash drawls, his eyebrow arched in concern.

“Feel dizzy,” I slur, panicked. I reach for my boyfriend, “Xand?”

My voice is barely a sound, you can hear the fear infecting every note.

“I got you,” he murmurs, supporting me with a hand around his waist .

His hand is warm against my side, still I can’t stand straight, “I hate you,” I grumble.

“I know,” he says, pulling me in closer so all of my weight is practically on him.

“I hated that.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to fall over,” I warn him, feeling my legs about to give way, “and my head really hurts.”

“Come here,” Xander tells me gently.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me up into his arms, bridal style. My heavy head lolls towards him chest and collides with it.

“I’m just going to close my eyes to stop the spinning,” I say, my words disjointed and distant.

“You do that sweetie” he leans down and kisses my forehead and I feel his grip tighten around me.

“What did you do to her?” Libby asks, I can feel her gentle hand on my forehead checking for a temperature.

“I didn’t do anything,” Xander defends, “the giant metal contraption to our left however, did some real damage.”

“You got her on a rollercoaster,” I hear Lyra say and I can imagine her jaw is dropped, given the many conversations we’d had on how I would never go on a rollercoaster.

“Biggest life regret,” I mumble, eyes still shut.

Xander explains, “I promised to buy her books.”

“Who knew she could be so easily bribed,” Grayson comments dryly.

“Never again,” I groan, burying my face into Xander’s shirt to block out the light. I can smell him, his scent. It’s sweet, it’s comforting, it’s home. My heart rate slows a little and I feel my limbs relax.

“She looks like she’s dying,” Jameson responds.

“Thanks,” I scoff sarcastically with all the energy I had left.

Avery snaps, barely half a beat after me, “Jameson that’s horrible!” I hear a thump and a dramatic ‘ow’ and presume Avery whacked him.

“I feel like I’m dying,” I shrug, regretting trying to support my own head.

“Geez Xand I think you broke her,” Lyra says.

“Then I’ll fix her right back up,” he replies.

“I think she’s past the point of fixing,” Jameson says.

“Nothing is past the point of fixing,” Xander responds, a hard determination in his voice.

“Do we need to call someone or get some help?” Libby asks her eyebrows pinching together with a maternal concern.

I try to shake my head and fail miserably, “I’m just dizzy, it’ll pass.”

“Give her a sip of water,” Nash advises handing Libby a bottle.

She gently lifts my head and tips some down my throat, making sure I’d swallowed before I laid back down.

“Better?” I hear her ask.

“Yeah,” I respond.

“You’re a pathetic liar sweetheart,” Xander says with a small laugh.

“Shut up I’m fine,” I reply, although I very much did not feel fine.

“I’m going to take you home.”

Guilt twinges in my stomach.

“No, no,” I rush, trying to sit up in his arms and failing miserably, “don’t ruin your day, just stick me on the floor and I’ll be fine.”

It’s a total lie but I don’t care. He shouldn’t have to miss out because I can’t handle something.

“We’ll see you guys a bit later,” he turns to the others, before beginning to walk towards the exit.

“Xander I’m fine, it’s fine,” I say, squirming, “put me down.”

“Stop talking sweetheart it’s going to hurt your head,” Xander replies planting another kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t drop me then,” I murmur helplessly, clinging to him even tighter.

“Even if my arms go numb there’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says.

I wince, “I was not built for rollercoasters.”

“No you weren’t my love,” Xander agrees softly.

I groan in response, the spinning getting progressively worse.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” he says as he tentatively strokes my cheek, “I didn’t think it’d make you feel this bad.”

“I did try to warn you,” I murmur leaning into his touch.

“I know I’m sorry,” he replies and I can hear the worry in his voice,

I fall back into his arms and close my eyes to relieve myself from the dizziness, “I don’t want you to miss out because of me,” I whisper, “I don’t want your day to be ruined because I can handle a stupid little rollercoaster.”

“I’m not missing out,” he reassures me, “I’ve got everything I could ever want bundled in my arms right now,”

“That was really cute,” I giggle, “and I’ll appreciate more when I’m not seeing stars.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, real guilt thickening his tone.

I had only meant it as a joke but hearing that rawness in his voice made something in my heart twist. My mind paints the ashamed look in his kind eyes. I despise the thought.

“Don’t feel bad,” I say quickly.

He forces a chuckle, “I do feel bad.”

“You know how you can make it up to me?” I open my eyes, and see double of him, not that I mind. Two Xander’s aren’t so bad to look at.

“No ,” he frowns, “how?”

***

I curl up with my special edition shatter me novel, taking in each word. I know it’s going to be the best reread of my life. I can’t help but keep flicking back to admire the cover. It’s the most gorgeous thing I own.

Everything stopped spinning around an hour after I got off of that death trap and I can actually make out the words.

I feel his eyes on me, I always can. I look up with a grin and to no surprise I’m right. Xander’s standing there staring at me, a small smile lacing his lips. He looks at me like I’m worth more than each and every blueberry scone in the universe, which is a big compliment from him.

He walks over and sits down beside me and I notice two mugs in each of his hands. One is decadently topped with whip cream, chocolate shavings sprinkles and a whole world of other things and the other was plain. I think it was safe to say who’s was who’s. He passes me a the non-embellished steaming mug and I can’t help but smile, “worth it?” he asks me, eyebrows raised at the book.

“For my mental health,” I begin slowly, “no, for this book, absolutely.”

“You’re a little odd,” he shoots me a very Hawthorne grin, “has anyone ever told you that?”

I move closer to him, “I may have heard it here and there.”

“But that’s why I love you,” he whispers cupping my face in his hands.

“Good thing I love you too then,” I murmur with a little laugh as his lips crash into mine.

hey lovelies!! yes I am alive!!

sorry this isn’t a req fic and sorry it’s taken me so long to get another fic out, I’ve had loads of tests lately and a busy time in general. hopefully I’ll be able to write more regularly when it’s all done but for now unfortunately it’ll be a bit hit and miss, hope you can understand <33

TIG masterlist

[livfastdieyoung69]

Ok.. i NEED… a highflyer reader x bron breakker

Like i need it baddd cause like the dynamic is so.. AHHH

Could also sprinkle in some aggressively jealous bron.. yk how much i love my jealous men

FOREVER YOUNG

(Bron Breakker x Highflyer!Reader, they’re both dumbasses)

Wrestlemania 40 was as big of a success as everyone hoped it to be—everyone, sort of including you. Though you’d won your match you were in one of the matches without a title being involved, and you also managed to crack a rib after a pretty high-up moonsault. The two of you had taken some creative liberty and decided among many other rules there would be no countouts, and coincidentally, you ended up somewhere far off a balcony with the other superstar on a table. What did they want you to do, not live out your childhood Jeff Hardy Swanton Bomb off a balcony dreams?

Anyways, as bummed out as you were about the six weeks you had to sit out, not very much was going on besides the WWE draft. You loved your previous spot on RAW and were very thankful to keep it. Plus, they added a couple of new NXT stars to the main rosters, including a very good friend of yours, Lyra. You couldn’t wait to see her again.

At the end of your recovery, WWE would be in your town for RAW and you would get to make your comeback. Paul lets you have creative freedom for a lot of your work for some reason, the man has a huge soft spot for you considering the number of problems you’ve caused (including your recent Wrestlemania spot). You decided it would be fun to pretend you were still recovering and just commentate, then hop up in the middle of a match to interfere.

So here you were today, getting out of your car, and heading into the arena. You’d sent Paul a text when you were a couple of minutes away, so the camera crew welcomed you and filmed your walk further into the arena. The fans were so excited to see you again, the month and a half you were gone felt like an eternity. You happily waved to the cameras as the fans screamed- hopefully, they appreciated your outfit, you’d put a lot of thought into it, it wasn’t often you were seen outside of ring gear.

Your first course of action should’ve been to beeline it toward Paul to talk out your interception with him, but you couldn’t decide what match to interfere in so you decided to avoid him and instead find Lyra. Thankfully, it was easy to find her just outside of catering.

“Lyra!” You jogged towards her with a grin. She turns quickly, exclaiming your name and pulling you into an embrace.

“Oh my god, it's been so long! What are you doing here?” She pulls back just a bit to talk, holding onto your elbows.

“Okay, you can’t tell anyone, but,” You look around to make sure no one is listening before starting to whisper, “I’m returning! Everyone thinks I’m just on commentary but Paul and Creative are letting me interfere with a match.”

Her face lights up even more, and the two of you hug and scream and jump at finally being back together after so long. In the middle of your celebrations, a gust of air runs past your back. Confused, you pull away and turn around, to find nothing.

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh, that was just Bron, he got drafted to RAW too! I think he was chasing Ricochet. You’ll get used to it.” You turn back to face her.

“He's really that fast?” She confirms it with a shrug and a nod. “How?” She gives you another shrug and a look that tells you the question was really dumb. “He's like…muscly…’n big.” Her exasperated look just grows as you somehow get even more confused. “Those Steiners are scary, man.”

“Scary?” She scoffs. “Bron’s not scary. He’s like a puppy- runs fast sometimes, but then he's all smiles and stuff.” You shrug and throw the topic off, asking her if she wants to go into catering and get food. You have a lovely conversation and catch up while you eat before she has to run off to get ready for her match and you finally go find HHH. He greets you with a warm smile and bends down for a gentle hug.

“How's it goin’, kid?” You smile up at him and tell him you’re glad to be back. “We’re glad to have you back. Almost 8, nights about to start. Got any idea what match you’re leaning towards?” Your smile turns guilty and you fold into your shoulders a little.

“Actually, um, whats the card?” He sighs and mutters something about how he should’ve known before passing you a paper.

Sami Zayn v Chad Gable

Lyra Valkyria v IYO Sky

Awesome Truth v TJD

Bron Breakker v Ricochet

Gunther v Jey Uso

“Oh, that's why Bron was chasing Ricochet!” You hadn’t seen any cameramen, but if they had a match, it was probably for a promo. Paul’s eyebrows furrow and he excuses himself for what was supposed to be a minute but then Michael Cole and Pat Mcafee are in the Guerilla and he still isn’t back. You greet the two in the middle of your panicking, Michael Cole bringing you into your third hug of the night. Seemed like everyone really did miss you.

“What’s the plan?” Michael Cole was the only other person besides Paul and Creative who knew what the plan was.

What the hell were you supposed to do here? Sami’s a great guy, and though you weren’t necessarily friends with Chad Gable, you were friends with the rest of Alpha Academy, so you didn’t want to ruin their match. You refused to take any attention away from Lyra’s win, and you were sure R-Truth was already going to get something else mixed up, he didn’t need any more confusion. Gunther’s just kinda a scary guy, and Jey’s fun to hang out with, so really, you were left with one option. You loved Samantha and her husband seemed nice enough, but you’d never been very involved with Richochet.

“Do you think Paul would let me change the outcome of a match?” You ask back. His surprise is easy to see, but then he thinks about it for a second.

“Well, he’s preoccupied now, so you wouldn’t have the time to tell him,” The way he says it, slow and controlled, sounds like a warning not to do it, but he knows you well enough to know you won’t listen. “But, if you did, it’s not like he would fire you.” You nod in consideration.

“I think I wanna interfere in Bron’s match.” You sound confident, like you had made the decisions days, instead of seconds ago. “Yeah. I like that. I’ll go tell Ricochet.” You rush off before Michael Cole can tell you it's probably a good idea to tell Bron too. Whatever. Ricochet is okay with everything, the guy really is nice, and even lets you know he and Bron are gonna have another match next week so they can just switch the wins, he even goes as far as to ask Bronson Reed to come out and help distract the ref. Considering how close to the show starting you decided to do this, you didn’t have much time and you quickly rushed back to the Guerilla. Just in time too, Samantha Irvin was on her way out, with Michael and Pat following her.

Paul basically ran back into the small room just before you were about to go out. He grabs you by the shoulders and makes sure you have a plan, and you tell him which match but just so happen to forget a couple details that had been switched around. Just as he's about to question you a little more, your music hits and you rush out for your surprise entrance. The crowd is even louder than they were with your walk into the arena, and you’re happy to get a second to high-five and hug fans while you walk down to the commentator's table.

You sit down and address the fans at home too, excited to even just hear the crowd and be in the presence of WWE again. Chad Gable and Sami’s match starts soon after, and you wave the Alpha Academy over to say hi. The match was very fun, and it was even more fun to be on commentary. You’d probably get in trouble for a couple of the things you and Pat were saying, but you were already going to get in trouble for something bigger, it’d be overlooked.

Of course, Lyra’s match is great, and you jump on the commentator's table and scream when she wins. Michael Cole yells at you to get down because of the rib injury you’re supposed to still have, and Pat Mcafee joins you after a second. You boo as loud as you can when The Judgement Day comes out and talk about JD’s big head like Dom isn’t sitting right next to you before singing along with R-Truth and making fun of The Miz before hugging the both of them. Even if The Miz wasn’t the best guy all the time, he was nice to you and said you reminded him of his daughters. Which was sorta complimentary but they are six and seven, so.

The Awesome Truth takes the win and keep their titles, so you get to sing their song again. You would’ve gotten back on the table, but that seemed like a little too much. You’ve been having so much fun you don’t even realize it's time for your interference match until Ricochet’s song plays. Michael Cole calls your name to grab your attention.

“Clearly, you’ve been enjoying the night so far, how do you feel about this match?”

“Y’know, Michael, big fan of both of these guys. I mean, Ricochet is a fellow highflyer, and his girl over here,” You turn to say hi to Samantha in the middle of her announcing Ricochet. “Is perfect. And Bron Breakker- c’mon now. He’s so fast! I wish I was that fast.”

“Is that…the only reason you like him?” He asks, and Pat is laughing very hard on the other side of him. You shrug.

“I like his muscles too.” The line goes quiet for a bit (besides Pat’s laughing) before Bron’s music hits and you start imitating the loud ass siren. The fan behind you starts barking in your ear, and you couldn’t imagine another scenario where this could be happening. You watch Bron run into the ring and suddenly, you become much happier with your choice. This was your first time seeing him in real life instead of on TV, and oh boy, was he good looking. You knew he was ripped, just not that much. You didn’t even think someone in a singlet could look that good.

He flexes in the corner of the ring, coincidentally the corner closest to you before the match begins, and suddenly everything in your brain is gone. You do actually have to pay attention to this match, so Michael Cole is quick to bring you back to the real world and you continue with your commentary. You even get to see Bron do one of his famous spears.

“Oh, look at him go! Woah!” You stand from your seat and point to the ring like the other two commentators weren’t already watching. You drop back in your seat, still muttering about how cool it was. “He’s just got everything. Fast, muscles, and handsome? What a cool guy.”

All of a sudden Bronson Reed’s music is blaring and the crowd is booing, distracting Bron, and letting Ricochet get the up on him after an unexpected jump off the ropes and it seems like it's time to shine.

“Y’know what?” You shake your head, beginning to stand. “I just can’t allow this. He’s, Bron’s just too great to lose. Just- here Michael,” You turn to hand him your headphones but he’s just asking you what the hell you’re doing so you put them down on the table and quickly apologize to Samantha for what you’re going to do and while the ref is distracted, you run as fast as you possibly can to the closest ring post, catapulting yourself into a huge moonsault right on top of Ricochet, who had Bron in a two-count.

The crowd goes insane, and you slip back out of the ring like nothing happened. Bron is so incredibly confused and looks over at Ricochet next to him, then over to you yelling at him to get the pin outside of the ring. When he finally listens, you start yelling at the ref to pay attention and stand in front of Bronson Reed so he can’t get in the ring. You can hear the crowd count the three count with the ref, and Bron’s music plays shortly after so luckily your efforts were worth it.

A grin returns to your face and you leave Bronson Reed outside of the ring, jumping back in it and holding Bron’s hand up in victory before the ref can. Still confused, he looks over at you in shock, but you’re just grinning away at the camera, holding his hand. He always knew you were pretty, but this up close? You were… mind-blowing. Gorgeous. And so cool too, how could you even jump that high? It’s so crazy! He can’t take his eyes away from you, not even when the ref finally does raise his other hand, not even when Bronson Reed and Ricochet start fighting on their way up the ramp. He doesn’t remember the smile growing on his face either, but when you finally face him and his puppy dog eyes, you melt.

You don’t remember it either though, not with the way you jump to hug him in your excitement. After a second of Bron just standing there in shock, his arms wrap around you too.

“Thanks,” Is all he can manage when you finally slip from him. “That was really cool.” You just shrug it off, heat creeping up your neck while you pretend like it meant nothing.

“I’m glad I got to return in your match. You’re really cool too.” Now he's blushing and trying to wave that off too, the both of you standing in the middle of the ring like grinning fools. One of the staff members with cameras has to tell you the commercials are almost over so that you start walking back up the ramp together. “How do you go that fast?” Bron shrugs like everyone else has when you’ve asked.

“Just do. How do you jump that fast?”

“Just do,” You shrug back. “Can you teach me?” He turns towards you with those big brown eyes and that sweet smile, and you’re just now realizing that his singlet has been pushed down and you can see his whole torso. Goddamn.

“As long as you teach me too.” Obviously, you agree as quick as possible even though you don’t know how you’re supposed to do that. Suddenly Bron stops in the middle of the ramp, and grabs onto your upper arm as gently as possible, his face turning concerned. “Wait, are you still hurt? You’re okay, right?”

“Oh, I’m healed! My rib is great, she’s all back to normal. Little sore, though.” You put a hand against it and wince a little when you realize just how sore it is, and when Bron offers a hand to help you walk the rest of the way up, who are you to deny? You were absolutely taking advantage of the situation too, looping your arm around his and practically shoving your face against it. If this is what heaven was like, you were considering admitting to your sins or whatever you’re supposed to do.

When you do finally make it backstage Paul is right at the curtain waiting for you, but when he sees you should probably be seeing medical he lets it wait for later, and you latch onto Bron’s arm a little longer while he walks you over. You wait at the door with Bron who had decided to stay and make sure you were okay, which made you even more giddy than you thought possible. JD had taken a pretty rough bump, so when he comes out with Dominik and Finn trailing behind, it isn’t much of a surprise.

“Oh, hey,” JD smirks at you. He definitely hadn’t heard your comments at the commentator's table. “You look really great tonight. Like really, really, great.” Should’ve been a compliment but from his it just seemed creepy. Before you can even make a move to turn whatever he was trying to do down, Bron puts his arm back up for you to wrap around and leads in front of you.

“They’re not interested.” That’s all he says but he’s big and suddenly scary, and looking down at JD with a snarl, before he gives him a shove and gently tugs you into the room after him while you try not to giggle against his arm. Are you dreaming? You’re pretty sure this is a dream. The med staff ask what the problem is as soon as you walk in, and you tell them as you lean against the puffy examination table. They ask if you can get up on the table so they can get a closer look, see if theres any bruising, and when he notices your hesistation, Bron grabs your hips and lifts you onto the table like nothing happened. And now you have to pretend like nothing happened and lift your shirt for the doctor while the heat creeps back up your face. This has to be a dream.

The doctor lets you know everything’s fine, just newly fixed and sore, tells you to take some pain meds, and that you’ll be back to normal in a couple of days. Bron gives you a hand to steady yourself while you slip off the table. You decide not to push your luck with cuddling up against him again but he keeps hovering his hands around your waist just in case.

“Thanks for the help,” You offer, turning towards him when you reach the women’s locker room- you’d left your stuff with Lyra’s. “You didn’t have to stay with me or anything, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, of course. No big deal.” He’s smiling at you again, and your voice is caught so far down in your throat you can’t manage to pull it up to thank him again. Before it gets too uncomfortable from your silence, Maxxine opens the locker room door with all of her luggage, set to leave.

“Oh, hey,” She exclaims your name, pulling you into a quick hug and stepping back with the huge, gleaming smile she always has. “It’s so good to see you back!”

“It’s awesome to be back! And to see you, of course, it was really cool to get to see you guys earlier.” You respond with a similar grin. Bron gave Maxxine a small wave, but now he's just standing next to you, not listening to a word either of you are saying until the tall blonde walks away, wishing you a good week. You turn back to him soon after.

“I just gotta grab my stuff, and then I’ll be outta your hair,” You point to the room behind you with an airy laugh. “I’m sure you’ve got a long flight, or drive, or whatever. Lucky me, I’ve only got a thirty-minute drive and a shower keeping me from sleep.” Now you’re both laughing awkwardly in front of the door, and you can’t find it in yourself to go through it, no matter how tired you are and how much worse the ache of your rib has gotten. Not with him right here.

“You sure you’ll be okay to drive?” His hand is back on yours over your cramping midsection, feathering so lightly you barely feel it.

“Oh, um,” You’ve asked enough from him already, so instead you point to the door behind you again. “I was gonna see if Lyra was up to a sleepover, but Maxxine said she had to rush out to catch her flight, she booked the wrong one on accident or something like that.” When you realize you’ve just told him you didn’t want to drive home but you had no other choice, you rush to cover yourself. “It’s- I’m fine, I’ll be okay, dealt with worse.” His eyebrows are furrowed with concern and you can tell he’s going to offer help again, so you rush out some more rambling about getting out of his way and grabbing your stuff before finally forcing yourself into the locker room.

It’s not like you have a lot, just a duffle bag with a comfier change of clothes you switch into, throwing your jacket on and grabbing your keys. When you walk back out the door, Bron’s still standing there. He sits up from leaning against the wall when he sees you, stepping just close enough that he can reach out for you if needed.

“I don’t mind driving you home.” You try to stutter your way through more excuses, but he raises his arms to hold yours so much more gently than you thought a man with that much muscle mass could. “To be honest, I um, I took an Uber here and I forgot to bring a charger, and my phone died, so…I don’t have a way to go anywhere else.” He’s blushing in his embarrassment, a hand leaving you to hold against the back of his neck before the both of you start your lovestruck giggling.

“Well, if you wanna go get your stuff ‘n shower, I gotta go get yelled at by Paul real quick.” You tell him when your laughs just turn into smiles, and he nods before becoming confused again.

“Yeah, wasn’t I supposed to lose-“

“Oh, yeah, I switched it and forgot to tell you. Also didn’t tell Paul, so better enjoy your time with me before I’m grounded.” And the both of you are giggling against each other some more. You have to physically shove him toward the other locker rooms so that he goes, but you’re both still grinning and trying to hold back your laughter while you go your separate ways. You have to hide your smile behind your hand while Paul scolds you, but as usual, you’ve got off scot-free and are expected to be back next Monday.

You rush back over to the locker rooms when Paul’s done and get there just in time to find Bron leaving. He looks warm in a tight t-shirt and cozy sweatpants, even warmer than he was earlier with his soft touches and sweet eyes, and you can’t stop yourself from latching back to his arm after you throw him the keys.

The two of you giggle some more on your way to the car while you mock Paul’s scorning in a silly voice, and Bron can’t help the way he’s looking down at you on his arm or the way he wishes you could just stay there for the rest of each of your lives. Maybe after that too. He threw both of your bags in the back- he’s a gentleman, of course he took your bag- and hopped into the driver's seat. You giggle some more when he turns the car on and your music starts blaring.

You fall into silences between your muttering conversations, listening to the soothing music on the turned-down radio. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel while he drives, and only keeps one hand on the wheel.

“This is nice.” He starts in the middle of a Neil Young song, you think it's Harvest Moon, and you look over at him. His eyes are still staring at the highway but the taillights of the two other cars on the road shine on his face just enough that you can tell how much he means it. “I don’t get to travel with a lot of people. Don’t have very many…friends in the business, I guess.”

“Well,” You shrug, a playful tone under your casualness. “Guess that just means you’re stuck with me then.”

He doesn’t say anything back, doesn’t say he wants to spend every Monday night for the rest of his life with you in the passenger seat, looking so soft and warm cuddled up in the blanket you had hidden away in the back seat with the car full of your sweet laughter, because you’ve just met a couple hours ago and that would be considered weird. He doesn’t say anything back but he laughs, with the same fondness he’s had all night. It holds something else though, and his hand finds your blanketed knee for a second, and he’s still so warm, and you can tell he wants to stay right here, right where you want him- in the front seat of whatever car you’re in, with his gorgeous eyes and his sweet smile.

Neither of you have to say anything, you just know.

finally finished this the end took me forever i had everything else finished for a while

the only breakker fics ive seen have been bron and like rlly cool, smart reader and i love them and would love to do that in a diff fic but idk i wanted to make both of them rlly dumb for a chance. was fun, and i think its pretty cute.

half way through this, after I couldn’t figure out how to end it I feel into the trap that is The Phantom of The Opera and I feel like I’m in middle school again but I can’t stop thinking about him or watching the movies or listening to the soundtrack (and I bought the book)

title is the bob dylan song, they just reminded me of it cuz they’re up in here acting like love sick teenagers

[secret0codename]

MY HEADCANONS TICCI TOBY 🪓

Kid Toby Rogers 🧇

• Toby was a very quiet child, with very few or no friends. His best friend was Lyra. The girl was the one who kept him company the most, by far the only one. Confiante worked a lot and was hardly ever at home, when he was he tried to give the boy his attention.

• Lyra was the one who took care of him the most. When he was little, he had no idea of pain when he fell or noticed the bruises. At school, the children didn't understand why he kept squirming in his chair. In fact, he never knew how to deal with his tics. Tourett's was actually one of the disorders that caused Toby to suffer the most bullying. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to proofread.

• Toby once got a teddy bear that he wouldn't let go of. It was on his 4th birthday and he got attached to the teddy bear. Unfortunately, it burned in the fire, but he keeps some of the remains of it with him.

• His parents started having problems when he was 10 or 11 years old, it really affected his family a lot, he always blamed his father for abusing alcohol (We all hate that man)

Teen Toby Rogers🧤

• Toby grew up in a horrible environment, this didn't really shape his personality but it shaped his point of view about his parents, when he helped Lyra the girl got angry because he got hurt but he didn't feel it and didn't care. She always took care of him, he was always grateful for her.

• Toby didn't have any friends, but he can't deny that few people were kind to him. He studied at home when he was little. He only attended school to complete the second year, then he continued studying at home. Lyra helped him and later showed him her ideas. I think she wanted to study fashion, and she was very good at what she did.

• Toby has learned to deal with his tics, and his disorders in general. He understands that no one would ever be in his shoes, so he stopped paying attention to the comments, he never let anyone talk about Lyra or his mother... She may have been a little mean, but she helped him, enough for him to understand why she was late getting home.

• Toby liked to spend his time listening to music, and doodling on random sheets of paper. He never minded being alone, he actually preferred it. Unfortunately, the Slender figure in his window started paying attention to him, which changed his path.

• Toby killed his father 2 days after his sister's death. He was in shock, angry, and couldn't help but feel more hatred for his father. The sad thing was having to leave his mother with no one to live with. His daughter died, her husband was murdered, and his body was burned along with the house. His only son disappeared and never visited her (at least she never saw him).

ADULT TOBY ROGERS 🪓

• He actually became a wanted killer, but that never stopped him from being a "normal adult"; he did his "missions" mostly at night, leaving the day to be more free.

• Toby wasn't getting into relationships, but he has good friends. I can say that Jack and Nina are his best friends now. But there's always room for Lyra, he still hallucinates about her sometimes.

• Toby Smokes not at Masky's level but Smokes enough, the big weed user. Getting high alone for him is therapy not to mention that no one says anything, his clothes smell of smoke and weed

• Toby doesn't shave his beard, it's long and gives him a certain charm. Nina says she likes his beard but hates his mustache. Jack says that Toby looks good either way, he let his hair grow and got more sun on his skin, making it more tanned.

• Toby lives in a small cabin, he and Jack share the house, they get along well even though Toby is disorganized. Jack understands since the refrigerator has food and human organs, they both do their part and that's it. Toby has a good relationship with everyone: Nina, Tim, Hoodie, Jeff. Maybe he's not 100% with Jeff but he puts up with him. He loves talking to Sally even though she's a Poltergeist. He likes to see her floating around.

I'VE WANTED TO DO THIS FOR A LONG TIME >○<

Honestly, I don't speak English well, so I'm sorry for the mistakes. I had a lot of references to do this, but I love writing about Toby! It's one of my favorite creepy's. Coming in first place is Nina, Sally, E.J. and so on..!! Well thanks for reading!!! I'm Morgane �� ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆��☆☆☆☆

[lyragrayson4ever]

Sibling Vibes and Side Dishes

The dining room at Hawthorne House was buzzing.

Not the usual kind of chaos with people planning puzzles or scanning the walls for secret compartments—tonight, it was just… good chaos. Plates passed, glasses clinked, and no one had tried to set anything on fire (yet).

Lyra Kane was halfway into a dramatic takedown of cornbread when Rohan interrupted her.

“I’m just saying,” he declared, gesturing wildly with his fork, “cornbread is the food of the people. Golden. Glorious. A symbol of survival and spirit.”

Lyra didn’t even look up. “It’s cake. You’re eating cake with dinner.”

“That’s the dream,” he said.

Savannah, sitting beside Gigi, tried to hold in a laugh. “They’ve been doing this for twenty minutes.”

“Nineteen and thirty-seven seconds,” Gigi corrected, glancing at her phone. “They started when Grayson passed the butter.”

“Should’ve seen this coming,” Grayson said, shaking his head—but he was smiling, soft around the edges in a way Lyra hadn’t seen since before the Grandest Game had turned them all inside out.

Jameson leaned forward. “What I want to know is: who cried over a duck video?”

Rohan grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. “Lyra. Three a.m. Baby duck waddling across a piano. Full tears. Existential crisis. I had to offer jellybeans.”

“You swore that was a sacred moment,” Lyra hissed.

“And it was,” Rohan said, solemn. “Sacred... but too good not to share.”

“Do not betray her jellybean trust,” Savannah said with mock seriousness.

“I didn’t betray it,” he argued. “I just... casually re-gifted the emotional weight.”

Gigi raised a brow. “Sounds like you both need a therapist.”

“We had one,” Rohan said. “His name was Game Trauma. He wasn’t great.”

“Zero stars,” Lyra agreed. “No refund.”

The table roared with laughter.

Grayson, chuckling low, leaned in toward Savannah. “You ever seen two people become siblings by pure force of banter?”

“Every day,” she said. “But usually not while threatening each other with green beans.”

Lyra reached for another roll—and found the basket empty.

“Rohan,” she said, slow and menacing, “did you just take the last one?”

He popped the bite-sized remains into his mouth, chewing triumphantly. “Can’t prove anything.”

“You are literally chewing it.”

“It could be a decoy roll.”

“I hope your brownie is dry.”

He gasped. “You wouldn’t curse dessert.”

“I would curse you.”

“Sibling vibes,” Gigi muttered. “So strong it’s terrifying.”

Nash grinned from down the table. “You two planning to co-write a book someday? Title it How to Emotionally Damage Your Enemies with Food-Based Arguments?”

“Chapter one: The Biscuit Betrayal,” Rohan said dramatically.

“Chapter two: Don’t Cry Over Ducklings,” Lyra added, smirking.

Dinner eventually wound down. Plates emptied. Jokes softened. The room was still full, but quieter now—warm, safe.

Lyra found herself in the kitchen a little while later, rinsing a plate she hadn’t even used. Rohan wandered in, leaning against the counter, chewing on something he definitely wasn’t supposed to take yet.

“You ever think,” he said, “about how weird it is that this feels… normal?”

Lyra glanced over. “Us being in the same room without nearly dying?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And talking to people. Laughing. You, threatening me with food instead of fists.”

She gave a little shrug. “Still time for fists.”

He smiled. Not smug. Just… real. “I don’t have a family. Not really. Never did. But this—tonight—it kind of felt like I borrowed one.”

She was quiet for a beat, then nudged him with her elbow. “You didn’t borrow it, idiot. You got stuck with us.”

He blinked. “Stuck with you, huh?”

“Yup,” she said, drying her hands. “Like gum on your shoe. Or trauma with a side of jellybeans.”

He grinned, wide and stupid. “I’m putting that on a t-shirt.”

They walked back toward the others, the last echoes of laughter still floating through the house.

And for the first time in a long time, neither of them felt like they had to watch their backs.

Not tonight.

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 8: Marked Flesh

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.8k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Mysterious markings appear on the bodies of infected patients that leave you stumped in your research. In another turn of events, drunk words draw you into the enigma that is the royal family.

It was another day in the elven kingdom. You were dressed that morning by Amara and Liriel - who did not speak about the stunt you had pulled. Surprisingly so, your venture in the woods was not spread around. You wondered if Aemond was keeping it secret for his own sake. It would be embarrassing to admit a human was able to sneak past his guards and escape the castle. It could be just as easy to sneak in as opposed to sneaking out. 

You were glad he kept it secret regardless, for you wished not for the trust built between you and some elves to be broken. Revealing it to everyone would hurt not just your reputation, but Aemonds. It was, in a slight sense, relieving to have a mutual standing with the king. A draw was more like it. 

A smile made its way on your face as you approached your first patient visit of the day. Lyra was sitting in bed, staring up at the vaulted ceiling that spanned the length of the hall with intricately carved stone. The chandeliers glittered with light, casting the hall in a yellow warmth. 

“And how is my favourite elf?” You asked as you placed her food on the small wood table beside her bed. You snuck a bit of peach slices into the meal, as they were her favourite. 

Lyra’s wide and glistening eyes turned to you. Despite her obvious pain, she was still chock-full of wonder, “I have a question.” 

“And what is it, sweet girl?” You sat on the edge of the bed. She rolled up the sleeve of her white flowing dress. She exposed the upper portion of her bicep and revealed the inner area by her armpit. On the delicate skin were dark lines. They each moved in succession to one another, like scratches. 

“May I?” You questioned with your hand reaching out and she nodded to permit you. The pads of your fingers traced the markings gently. This was not something you had noticed in the other patients, nor was it in anything you read. They were gnarly and ridged, composed of rough marks.

You brought out your notes and wrote about it. You went through the standard questions you ask all the patients each morning - how are their symptoms, has anything changed, how much sleep did they get, and a few others to gauge how bad the taint has infected them. 

“I’m scared.” Lyra’s voice broke you from your focus. You looked up at her to see a faraway look in her eyes. 

“Of what?” 

Lyra then made eye contact with you and spoke plainly, “Death.” 

You were left unable to answer. What could be said to comfort a dying child? What possible words could be used to cover that void of fear? You put down your notebook and reached to grab both of her hands and rubbed the knuckles gently. 

“I want to say you are brave - and you are - but darling I wish you did not ever have to be. The healers and I are working tirelessly for a cure, just hold on. Can you promise me that? After I will take you wherever you wish to go, our little adventure.” Your smile was forced as you tried to keep your composure around her.

Lyra’s face lit up at your words, “Wherever I wish?” 

“Of course,” You ruffled her hair gently and got up from the bed. You stayed to make sure she broke her fast and then went about the rest of your rounds. 

For each patient you visited, you inspected their inner upper bicep and found the same strange markings that were on Lyra. You took note of each of the markings and asked the same questions, hoping that you could find a connection between everyone. After collecting that information, you rushed to the laboratory. 

Daeron was already there as he looked through a pile of books on one of the tables. He muttered to himself - a frequent habit of his to organize his thoughts. You coughed to catch his attention and not startle him. 

Daeron turned to see you, “Ah, how is the adventurer today?” He teased about your recent venture into the woods. 

“You know?” You sighed loudly. Daeron laughed and picked up the book he was looking for. 

“Helaena was told, so naturally, she told me.” Daeron gave you a mischievous smirk. You were not entirely surprised by that. The royal siblings seemed close, especially Daeron and Helaena. 

“Please, let's move on from this. I have some new findings.” At those words, Daeron perked up and approached you. You handed him your notebook to read what you wrote about the markings. “This came to my attention this morning.” 

You waited as Daeron flipped through the few pages. Occasionally he would look up at you and then back down. You could tell he was taking it all in and searching all the previous knowledge he had. 

“Curious,” He muttered, “Peculiar…” Daeron handed you the journal back and paced the laboratory. One of his hands gripped his chin in thought. You watched the elf contemplate for a few moments as he went back and forth. In a quick moment, Daeron snapped his fingers. He glided across the room and reached for a dusty old book. He opened it and started to frantically flip through the pages with determination on his face. 

“They almost look like…” He trailed off as the parchment pages turned. He stopped at a page and let out a hum of approval, “Like these.” He placed the book on a table in front of you and double-tapped the drawings on the page. You leaned in to take what he was presenting you. 

You saw similar markings, but these lines had been inflicted by a knife to the skin, not randomly appearing on them like the patients. You scanned the words and became even more confused.

“Casting marks?” You questioned. 

Daeron brushed a strand of silver hair out of his face, “Blood magic. When you cast strong enough enchantments, it demands a sacrifice of your blood.” 

“But the marks on the patients were not carved… they appeared.” Your brows furrowed. 

“It is only what they looked like to me,” Daeron spoke, “That is all.” Both of you stood in contemplative silence. You placed your sketchings next to the book and looked back and forth. They were exact, except for the fact that one was cut into skin and the other were black lines. 

A dull throbbing emerged in your head. Prior to this, you were confused, now even more so. It seemed that every time you made good headway, something came to stop it. There was almost intentionality in the changing of the taint. A change brought about by its wish to survive and destroy everything. 

“More information to keep you up at night.” Daeron broke the silence. You glanced towards him. 

“I just wish I brought all of my supplies with me. There might be something there.” You wondered about the possibility of something in your home helping. It was cluttered with items, ingredients, books, and trinkets you had collected in your years of research. While the laboratory and library here had surpassed expectations, you longed for the small room of your home. The quiet peace you got there and your ability to work for longer periods - not having to speak to people and just focus on what you needed to get done. 

Daeron patted you on the back, “I’m going to see what the marks look like on the patients.” He stepped back from you and approached the door to the hall. You were left to think, though mostly you just stared.  Frustration built up in you. A phrase you had gotten used to floated through your mind. One step forward, two steps back.

The bustling hall of elves was filled with merry music and chatter. It marked another week since the last dance. In that time, the bridge between you and other elves strengthened - particularly your relationships with Helaena and Daeron. They had been rocks in your stay in the kingdom, always aiding when needed. Amara and Liriel were not relaying your talks to the king, as Daeron reassured you. After, you allowed yourself to get closer to them and spoke on more personal topics. Truly, it had been a long time since you had others to call friends. 

You had yet to get close to Aegon, as he was often about on some adventure and never in the castle. However, he made it a goal to be present at all of the celebrations. He had stalked in to see you, Daeron, Amara, and Liriel at one of the tables. You wished Helaena was there, but understood her aversion to large crowds and loud noises. As Aegon approached, you saw that he carried a sack in his hands. 

“Lovely ladies!” While not drunk, there was an air of aloofness to him. He noticed his brother at the table, “Ah, you as well.” 

Daeron rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, “Should we be worried about whatever you are carrying in that bag?” 

Aegon feigned offence, “It burns me that you think lowly of me. In fact, it is good.” He reached in and pulled out a brooch. It was gold and embedded with jewels to resemble a honeybee. He handed it off to Amara. 

“One for you,” He said with his voice pitched up slightly. Aegon pulled another one out, this time it was silver and blue in the shape of a butterfly. “One for you.” He gave it to Liriel. 

Aegon reached you, “And for the lovely human that pissed off my brother and gave me a great laugh,” He pulled out a brooch that was made of silver. It was a beetle with their wings out. The wings were made of emeralds with the base of the bug being a large sapphire. He passed it to you and you felt the weight in your hands. Cool and surprisingly heavy for such a small object. 

“And you stole these from where?” Daeron interjected. 

“Not theft, brother. I won them in a gamble at some pub… uh, ‘the Merry Maiden’ no, that wasn’t it. Uh, ‘the Gilded Goblet’... no not that.” Aegon’s brows furrowed as he tried to recall the pub's name, but you understood he was likely too inebriated to remember where he was. “Helaena picked the dragonfly one, but I thought the others could make some fine gifts for my friends.” 

Liriel placed her brooch down on the table, “You simply wanted to give them to us?” 

“Alright,” Aegon sighed, “I was hoping one of you could make sure I reach my room tonight and not end up passed out in some room or field. I need to wake up early tomorrow.” You exchanged a look with Daeron, him hiding his smile behind his goblet. 

“I will,” You volunteered. Aegon smiled and thanked you before wandering off - likely to the nearest keg. 

“You will regret that,” Amara warned you in a joking tone, “Last time I tried to get him back to his room, I had to drag him down a hall by his boot.”  You looked to Liriel and Daeron for confirmation, to which they nodded vehemently. You sat back in your chair and sighed before taking a swig of your drink. You were begging to wonder if that was the best decision. 

Daeron got out of his chair and held his hand out to you, “Care for a dance?” 

“Of course,” You placed your hand in his and he escorted you to the floor. Many of the elvish dances are a lot like the ones back home, so you were glad there was not an extreme learning curve. “Have you spoken to her yet?” You remembered his confession the last time you two danced. The supposedly enchanting elf huntress he always treated consumed a large portion of his mind, yet he had been too embarrassed to far as to tell you her name. 

Daeron looked around the room with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I’m working on it.” 

“Ah,” You slowly nodded, “Yes I can see how much progress you have made.” Your sarcastic tone earned you a look of funny disapproval from him. 

“And what about you? Any person back home?” Daeron asked as he spun you around. 

You could not hold back the laugh that slipped from your mouth. You unclasped your hand from his and covered your mouth at the sudden outburst, “No. The options available are… less than desirable.” You tried to find the most gentle words to use and Daeron seemed to understand while he spun you around again. In just a short moment, the smile on Daeron’s face morphed into a serious one. 

You raised your brow at him as he stopped dancing and the two of you stood there. You turned to where he was looking and nothing could prepare you for what you saw. Aemond was right there, with his hands clasped behind his back and a smug look on his face. He never came to these dances, from what you heard, so why was he here now?

“Forgive me, brother,” Aemond spoke to Daeron, “I shall step in.” The blood in your veins turned to ice. Daeron looked at your reaction and stepped close to you. 

“We must discuss a bit of research,” He intervened. 

Aemond hummed, “I am sure you two will have plenty of time on the morrow.” He held his hand out to you and you knew there was no way to deny him - especially in front of the eyes of all the elves in the room. You placed your hand in his and were surprised at the feeling. The skin was cold and rough, his hand larger than yours. Aemond nodded to his brother before moving you away and proceeding to dance. 

The feeling of him being so close reminded you of the sword he held against your throat, yet little fear came over you. He smelled of burning wood and parchment, with something akin to a medley of spices. Aemond did not speak but carefully guided you through the steps. Confusion was not a good enough word to describe your bewilderment. This was the only time you had ever seen him operate with a modicum of respect and possibly kindness. 

That sentiment died the moment he spoke. 

“You two needed to discuss research? Am I correct in guessing that your little adventure was for nothing?” Aemond taunted. The two of you spun before going back to the calm back-and-forth stepping. Other elves around you kept a portion of distance from the king and granted him more leeway on the dance floor.

You knew you had to remain as calm and poignant as possible, “No, your grace,” You would never outright address him as king for as long as you could, “We have yet to begin testing the flowers.” 

“I would advise not to be disappointed when it fails, but I am sure you are used to it.” Aemond’s smugness always managed to dig deep. You could not help but wonder, in all the years of his life, how nobody had yet to knock some sense into him. While none of the other royal siblings had spoken about it, you surmised there had to have been parents or some guardian in their youth to raise them. His siblings were kind, why was he not? 

“Then why did you save me?” Your question caused him to look at you. A glint of confusion shone in his eye. “You wish for me to fail, I could have then and there in that forest. Are you so selfish in your hate towards my kind that you would jeopardize a possible chance of saving and curing your people?”

Aemond’s grip on your hand and waist tightened, though not greatly enough to cause discomfort, “I did not jeopardize anything. If you can recall, I did save you.” His voice lowered in both volume and pitch. 

“Then why?” You questioned again, “Why did you save me?”

“You forget easily, I already told you,” Aemond reminded, “For my sister.” 

“For your sister?” Your tone was not convinced. Ultimately, if you looked at him closely, he looked just a tad nervous. There was an underlying feeling of anxiety in the way his eye darted around the room. He acted indifferent, but there was only so much falsity one could use before they ran out.

“You ask a mighty amount of questions.” Aemond deflected. 

“I wouldn’t be good at what I do if I was bad at asking questions.” You raised your eyebrow as a silent challenge. He turned his gaze back to you, a subtle fire in his eye. Before he could make a retort, you spoke again, “You did not answer my question.” 

Aemond scoffed, “Get used to disappointment.” 

You gave him a feigned and innocent look of confusion and kept your tone polite, “Did you not start this very conversation saying I was used to disappointment? Do you forget easily?” He did not appear to like you and disliked how you used his own words against him. The music came to an end and he pulled away from you as if burned from the contact. 

He looked as though he was going to speak, but chose not to. Aemond stalked off and passed through elves that immediately parted and bowed their heads. While making a big deal of not tolerating anything, he sure did let you get away with a lot. Why must he go out of his way to make you miserable? Does he not have a myriad of tasks to tackle as king?

It was not until he disappeared from your vision that Daeron approached.  

He gripped your shoulder with a worried expression, “Aemond said something horrible, didn’t he?” 

You gave him a reassuring tight-lipped smile, “Just the usual.” Daeron sighed with disappointment and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to guide you off the dance floor and back to the table with Amara and Liriel. Daeron pulled out your chair and you sat down. When you were gone, food had been brought to the table and you settled in to relax and talk with your friends.

You had lost track of the hours as the night passed. Despite Aemond’s attempt to spoil your night, it was significantly better than the last celebration. It was only a week ago, but you had been so new to the castle and unsure of yourself. Now, you had felt stronger after making good connections. It was incredibly fun to bond more with them. 

Since elves lived such long lives, they were never short on stories to tell. Naturally, time passed quickly. Daeron had just finished speaking when you saw Aegon in the distance. He stumbled towards the grand doors that were left open, his clothing somewhat dishevelled.  

“Excuse me, but I am tired and it looks like Aegon may accidentally take a tumble down a flight of stairs if he is not watched.” You pushed out your chair, bowed your head goodbye to them and rushed to the prince. He just made it past the threshold when he stumbled and fell on his knees. You reached him and put one arm across the upper part of his back and the other on the front of his stomach. 

“Ah,” His lopsided smile greeted you, “My saviour.” 

“Come on, let's walk,” You helped to lift him and began a wobbly trek down the halls of the castle. The two guards assigned to watch you followed closely behind. 

The walk took longer than it should have, given that Aegon fell multiple times and it took great strength to get him up again. You wondered if you should ask the guards for help, but decided against it. Every time you had tried to talk to them previously had been met with absolute silence. You had to ask him for directions to his room, which took him a long time to remember. 

Once you reached the door to his quarters, you resisted a loud sigh of relief. You leaned him up against the stone wall to open the door. After another few minutes of struggle, you managed to get him onto his bed. He yawned loudly and stretched out his arms. 

“I am sorry you have to deal with me,” Aegon mumbled. 

You were caught off guard and confused by his words, “What makes you say that?” 

“Helaena is so smart and Daeron has his success in healing. Aemond is the king and I, well, I am a drunk.” Aegon shakily moved his hands to gesture to his body. You removed his boots and placed them at the foot of the bed. 

While you were pouring water into a chalice to place on the bedside table, you thought of a response, “You do not have to be a drunk.” 

“But that is what I am good at.” You moved to sit on the side of the bed, your feet lifting a few inches off the floor. Aegon’s eyes were half-lidded.

“Gods know he won’t remember this,” You whispered to yourself before you raised your head to look at him, “Do you know how many of my people would kill to live as long as you? To learn and grow, to hone skills and make a difference? You have been given a gift, don’t waste it.” Your tone bordered on harsh, but you reeled it in. Something told you deep down that lashing out at him would only make the situation worse. There was no guarantee that come the morrow, these words would stick, but it was better than saying nothing at all. 

You got off the bed and made your way to the door. Your hand gripped the wrought steel handle of the wooden door. When you opened the door and allowed the torchlight of the hallway to seep in, Aegon called out your name. You turned to him to see him on the bed still, but his face looked as though he had more clarity. 

“My brother is not bad, just confused in his way and lashes out,” Aegon spoke.

“What?” You questioned. Your grip on the handle tightened.

Aegon rose slightly to fluff the pillow below him with a huff, “I saw him speaking to you. It is not my place to say, but he is not what he tries desperately to convince people of.” 

“And what is that?” Your query was met with a beat of silence. The distant shouts of the party were long drowned out, nothing but the crackling of the hearth and buzzing of the fireflies outside occupied the room.

“Evil.” His words echoed in your head. 

You gave him a shaky smile, though your heart was not fully in it, “Get some rest, Aegon.” With that, you left his room and closed the door. For a few moments, you stood unable to move. The family you had been exposed to since your meeting with Helaena was more complex than you could have imagined; a fine distraction you did not want to sink into and distract from your research. However, your curiosity had always been your greatest strength and weakness.

Chapter 9: Home and Hearth Preview

“I do not hate you,” Your words caused him to stop. You were slightly fearful, but it waned with each passing day, “I do not know you enough to hate you.” 

“But you have heard enough,” Aemond’s voice had dropped back down to a natural volume, contrasting his combative attitude from before. He shifted on the saddle and scanned the darkened forest.

“Stories, yes, but I doubt them more with each day. I have not seen you gut anyone, or drink the blood of your fallen foes, or anything else like that.” You reasoned. Your fingers brushed the purple petals of the flowers in front of you.

Aemond looked away from you and towards the flowers on the ground, “How do you know I do not do those things?”

✧₊⁺⋆☾ I have a poll going at the moment regarding an idea for future writing. If you are interested, you can vote here.

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[kanekoii]

How do you think Luxiem and Noctyx would react to collabing with the Reader who is a popular indie vtuber and their kamaoshi?

lyra’s notes -> methinks…you should read and find out

pairings -> luxiem, noctyx x gn! indie vtuber! kamioshi! reader

!! since this is intended to be romantic sorta, reader is male in uki’s part !!

genre -> scenario

song -> don’t wake me up - jonas blue & why don’t we

warnings -> they all have a crush on u, food in mysta’s part, joking mention of death in fuglur’s

VOX AKUMA ->

he’s going full adorable fanboy about it, screaming with joy when you agree to collab with him and freaking out over it on his twitter- i mean x. xitter. he will be so stoked about the opportunity to talk to you in person when he usually just lurks in your chat. he’ll take the opportunity to flirt with you and try to show off a little bit, only to fail miserably and be met with a laugh. yet he still made you laugh, so mission accomplished. he was so excited to collaborate with you and make you laugh, and he’s sure to ask to collab in the future.

IKE EVELAND ->

compliments. so many compliments. he’ll straight up tell you how excited he is to work with you and how you’re his kamioshi. ike will be sure to tell you how adorable he thinks you are and just how much he genuinely admires you. he is so absolutely smitten that poor boy can barely handle talking to you without blushing or getting flustered. the more times you collaborate, the more used to it he’ll become and the more he’ll start to hint at his crush on you.

LUCA KANESHIRO ->

he didn’t even believe you’d ask. you’re his literal kamioshi and you asked to collaborate with HIM of all people? he’s absolutely grateful for the opportunity to work with you and be able to talk to you more than just occasional comments in your chat when he’s not streaming. it was an off-collab too, so you’d be seeing him in person to see if he was just as pretty off camera as he was on. someone (me) akasupa’d and asked to give opinions on each other and the revelation that you loved his content just as much as or even more than he loved yours had his heart soaring.

SHU YAMINO ->

he would get SO flustered and nervous before you hop on call together to play the horror game he had chosen. it would likely lead to poor boy getting more scared than usual just because he’s nervous to be talking to someone he admires that much for the first time. he would most definitely try to flex his math skills too as some weird way of trying to gain your attention. every time he makes you even smile with his silly comments, his heart will soar out of pure pride.

MYSTA RIAS ->

he’s keeping it cool. or at the very least, he’s trying to. he knows his personality type doesn’t appeal to everyone and he’s so happy when he finds that you actually enjoy his loud yet introverted personality and his weird antics. the stream you did together was you teaching him how to cook without poisoning everyone. please teach him how to wash rice properly and how to cook it without the starch water. please i’m begging teach him how to cook and he will be so happy, bragging to chat that he learned this recipe from you.

FULGUR OVID ->

hooligan wants to play co-op rage games with you just to see you mald and absolutely lose it. hear me out, what if he invites you to a crab game or among us collab and introduces you to everyone and he gets teased for teaming with you and trying to essentially carry you. instead of die for nari it’s die for you. he will see to it personally that you win every game you play together just as a little chance to impress you and get you to smile. that would make him SO happy.

SONNY BRISKO ->

cutie will be so taken aback to see you in his chats sometimes, so a collaboration would be more than heaven to him. he looks up to you and your content so much that he’s sure he’s dreaming when he has a full conversation with you on stream. your collective chats ship it SO much. imagine all the ship edits when you do a stream together in person as an off-collab.

UKI VIOLETA ->

(male reader for this one) he would definitely do a baking stream! much like the ones he’s done with his fellow nijisanji en members, he gives vague instructions and you try to figure it out from there. while uki is muted, his viewers would be subject to comments about oh my god he’s adorable he’s trying so hard to make me happy. ugh boy is down bad and let’s just say there will be so many more streams like that in the near future <3

ALBAN KNOX ->

he’s SO insanely shy and nervous it’s adorable. though, as the stream with you goes on, he becomes less nervous and goes back to his normal silly self. if he needs to, he’ll break out the mickey voice to make you laugh but that’s a last resort. his personality compliments yours in such a way that it’s just so enjoyable to watch, and he’s such a comforting person to be around as well.

[sixeyesonathiel]

WHEREVER YOU WANT IT, BABY, I’M TAKING YOU THERE!

↳ being married to geto suguru means never running late. or dry.

cw: light degradation, praise kink, possessive language, mild dacryphilia, food play, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, mild exhibitionism ,marking mild overstimulation, raw sex, creampie, 5.4k wc, 18+ only, minors DNI.

a/n : for my bbg lyra heh😼🌹 first time writing for suguru bear w/ me, satoru ver. how did this reach this much word count i feel like i cheated on my cutie😔

ON THE COUCH.ᐟ

sunday night, the living room’s a disaster, like it always is when you two decide to “relax.” popcorn kernels litter the coffee table, a half-empty wine glass teeters on the edge, and your fuzzy blanket’s tangled on the floor, one corner still draped over the couch. the tv’s blaring some action flick—explosions, car chases, dialogue you’ve both stopped caring about.

suguru’s sprawled out beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, his gray sweatpants slung so low you can see the sharp cut of his v-line, the faint trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the waistband. he’s pretending to watch the screen, but you feel his eyes, heavy and warm, sliding to you every few seconds, catching the way you shift closer, your thigh brushing his.

“you’re squirming again, baby,” he murmurs, voice low, that smug charm dripping like honey. he tilts his head, dark hair falling over one shoulder, catching the dim glow of the tv. “what’s got you so worked up? the shitty plot or just me?”

you roll your eyes, nudging his ribs with your elbow, but it’s half-hearted, and he knows it. “don’t flatter yourself, suguru. this movie’s boring as hell, that’s all.”

“mm. bored, are we?” his voice is low, brushing the shell of your ear like velvet. his arm drapes tighter around your waist, fingers slipping just beneath the collar of his shirt—soft cotton and cedar clinging to your skin. “funny,” he murmurs, thumb grazing the curve of your throat, “your pulse says otherwise.”

you open your mouth to scoff, to throw some snark back, but his hand moves, sliding down your arm, across your waist, and under the hem of the shirt. his fingers are warm, calloused from years of sparring and cooking and touching you like he’s memorizing every inch. they graze your hip, slow, deliberate, and your breath catches, betraying you.

“suguru,” you warn, but it’s weak, more plea than protest, and the smirk curling his lips says he hears it too.

“what?” he’s all innocence, but his hand dips lower, slipping under the waistband of your panties, finding you slick and warm. “oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, fingers stroking you so slowly it’s torture, “this wet already? i haven’t even done anything.” his voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, a hunger that makes your thighs clench.

“shut up,” you mutter, cheeks burning, but you’re already melting, legs parting just enough for him to work. he chuckles, low and filthy, and shifts closer, his chest pressing against your side, his lips brushing that sensitive spot behind your ear. “you’re so full of shit,” you add, trying to keep the upper hand, but it’s slipping fast, especially when his thumb finds your clit, drawing tight, lazy circles that make your hips twitch.

“full of shit, huh?” he nips your earlobe, teeth grazing just hard enough to make you gasp. “says the woman who’s practically begging for my fingers.” he slides one inside you, slow, curling it just right, and you moan, soft and broken, your head falling back against the couch. “that’s what i thought,” he whispers, kissing down your neck, open-mouthed, sucking lightly at the pulse point. “you missed me today, didn’t you? all that running around, and you’re still this needy for your husband.”

you want to argue, to say you weren’t that needy, but he adds a second finger, pumping them steadily, and your comeback dissolves into a whimper. “suguru—fuck,” you manage, hands clutching his biceps, nails digging into the firm muscle. he groans, like your touch is his undoing, and shifts you closer, pulling you half onto his lap so you’re straddling one of his thighs. the pressure of his leg against you, combined with his fingers, is too much, and your hips start moving, grinding against him, chasing the heat pooling in your belly.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, voice thick with something darker, something worshipful. his eyes stay locked on yours, half-lidded and burning. “take what you need.”

your hips grind down without shame, chasing the curl of his fingers as slick sounds fill the room—louder than the gunfire on screen, louder than your own breath. his free hand cups the back of your neck, steadying you like you’re precious. and when he kisses you, it’s slow, deep—tongue sweeping past your lips like he’s claiming the noise you make. like he owns it.

“so pretty like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, his free hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple through the shirt. “fuck, you’re perfect. always so perfect for me.” his words hit harder than they should, sinking into your chest, making you clench around his fingers. he feels it, groans low, and speeds up, thumb pressing harder on your clit, fingers curling deeper. “c’mon, sweetheart, let go. wanna feel you make a mess on my hand before i even fuck you.”

you’re close, so close, the pleasure coiling tight, and he knows it—reads it in the way your breaths turn ragged, the way your nails bite into his skin. “suguru,” you gasp, half-warning, half-plea, and he just kisses you again, softer this time, like he’s anchoring you through it. “i’m—fuck, i’m gonna—”

““there you go,” he breathes, low and steady, like he’s guiding you home. and you fall apart just like that—shuddering, clinging, crying out against his mouth as your thighs tremble around his hand. he doesn’t rush you. just keeps his fingers moving slow, deliberate, coaxing every last wave from you with the patience of a man who knows he’s got you.

when you finally sag into his chest, boneless and dazed, he eases his hand free, wet and glistening. then—eyes never leaving yours—he slips his fingers between his lips and hums, thoughtful.“mm. sweeter tonight,” he says softly, almost to himself. “must’ve missed me.”

you’re still catching your breath, head spinning, but he’s not done. he shifts you fully onto his lap, tugging his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock—hard, leaking, and so thick it makes your mouth water. “c’mere, baby,” he says, guiding you over him, hands steady on your hips. “wanna feel you ride me now.”

you sink down slow, inch by inch, the stretch making you whimper. he’s big, always has been, but the way he fills you feels like home, like nothing else could ever compare. “fuck,” he groans, head tipping back, hands gripping your ass like he’s trying not to lose it. “you take me so well, sweetheart. every damn time.”

you start moving, slow at first, savoring the way he feels, the way his hands guide your rhythm. “you’re—ngh—so annoying,” you pant, trying to keep up the banter, but it’s hard when he’s hitting every spot that makes you see stars. “can’t even watch a movie without you—fuck—doing this.”

he laughs, low and rough, thrusting up to meet you, making you gasp. “annoying? baby, you’re the one who stole my shirt and pranced around in it. you wanted this.” his hands slide up your sides, tugging the shirt higher, exposing your breasts. he leans in, sucking one nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking just right, and you arch into him, moaning louder than you mean to.

“suguru—shit,” you whine, bouncing faster, the couch creaking under you. his hands are everywhere—your hips, your breasts, your face—pulling you closer, kissing you sloppy and desperate. “you’re mine,” he murmurs, voice rough with need, “all mine. this pussy, this body, this heart—fuck, it’s all mine.”

the words push you over the edge again, faster than you expect, and you come with a cry, clenching around him so tight he curses, loud and filthy. “fuck, baby,” he groans, thrusting up hard, chasing his own release. “gonna—shit, gonna fill you up.” he does, spilling deep inside, his grip on your hips bruising as he rides out the aftershocks, kissing you through it, soft and messy.

you’re both panting, sweaty, tangled together on the couch. he doesn’t pull out, just holds you close, his forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling. “you okay, sweetheart?” he asks, voice softer now, thumb brushing your cheek. you nod, still dazed, and he chuckles, kissing your nose. “good.”

he doesn’t ask for more. doesn’t need to. instead, he reaches for the blanket with one arm, pulling it over the both of you as he shifts to settle you against his chest. one hand drifts into your hair, slow and soothing, thumb brushing your scalp like he’s grounding himself with you.

“movie’s still running,” he murmurs, voice casual, steady—like he didn’t just unravel you. “don’t move. you’re mine tonight.”

his fingers trace soft shapes along your spine, and when he presses a kiss to your temple, you feel him smile. not smug. not teasing. just content. like this—sweat-slicked, quiet, yours—is exactly where he belongs.

IN THE BED.ᐟ

it’s late, past midnight, the kind of quiet where the world shrinks to just you two. the bedroom’s soft and warm, lit by the faint glow of a lavender candle flickering on the nightstand, its scent mingling with the familiar musk of suguru’s skin. the sheets are a mess, half-tucked, still carrying the faint tang of last night’s sweat.

you’re sprawled on your back, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, the hem bunched at your hips from tossing and turning. suguru’s beside you, propped on one elbow, watching you with those dark, heavy eyes, hair loose and spilling over his shoulders like ink. he’s shirtless, sweatpants slung low, and the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing that matters—makes your skin prickle.

“can’t sleep, sweetheart?” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, a little rough from the late hour. his fingers brush your thigh, barely a touch, but it’s enough to make you shift, thighs pressing together. “or you just waiting for me to do something about it?”

you roll your eyes, swatting his hand, but there’s no heat in it. “you’re so full of yourself,” you mutter, turning your head to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “maybe i’m just hot. this room’s stuffy.”

“stuffy, huh?” he chuckles, shifting closer, the mattress dipping under his weight. “that why you’re blushing? or is it cause you’re thinking about me?” his hand slides up your thigh again, firmer this time, fingers splaying possessively over your skin. “don’t lie, baby. i know that look.”

you open your mouth to retort, something snarky about his ego, but he’s already leaning in, lips brushing your jaw, soft and deliberate. “you’re so cute when you’re stubborn,” he whispers, kissing along your jawline, slow, like he’s savoring every inch. “makes me wanna ruin you even more.”

“suguru,” you breathe, half-laughing, half-warning, but your hands betray you, sliding up his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of muscle. he’s warm, solid, and the way he hums against your skin—like he’s tasting something divine—makes your head fuzzy. his kisses trail down your neck, open-mouthed, sucking lightly at the pulse point, and you arch into him, a soft moan slipping out before you can stop it.

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes glinting with something fierce, something tender. he tugs the t-shirt up, exposing your stomach, your breasts, and tosses it to the floor with a lazy flick. “fuck, look at you,” he says, voice rough, reverent. “you know this is my favorite part of the day, right? just you, like this, all mine.”

he kisses you everywhere—lips, collarbone, the soft curve of your belly, the inside of your thighs—like he’s worshipping you, like he’s making up for every second he wasn’t touching you today. his hands are gentle but possessive, guiding your legs apart, settling between them like he belongs there.

“i don’t think you get it,” he says, voice softer now, almost raw, as he kisses the sensitive skin just above your hip. “this—you—it’s everything i ever wanted.”

you’re trembling, heart pounding, and he notices, because of course he does. he always does. he slides up, hovering over you, one hand cupping your face, thumb brushing your cheek.

“you okay, sweetheart?” he asks, and it’s so earnest, so suguru, that you nod, pulling him down to kiss him. it’s slow, deep, tongues sliding together, and you taste the mint from his toothpaste, the faint bitterness of the wine from earlier. his other hand slips between your legs, fingers finding you slick, and he groans into your mouth, low and filthy. “fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

“your fault,” you mumble against his lips, and he laughs, the sound vibrating through you.

“yeah? good,” he says, sliding one finger inside you, slow, curling it just right. you gasp, hips bucking, and he adds another, pumping them steadily, his thumb circling your clit. “look at you, taking me so well already. always so fucking perfect.”

you’re moaning now, shameless, hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. he hisses, but it’s a good sound, the kind that makes him thrust his fingers harder, watching your face with those dark, hungry eyes. “suguru—please,” you whine, not even sure what you’re begging for, but he knows. he always knows.

“please what, baby?” he teases, kissing your nose, your chin, your throat. “use your words. tell your husband what you want.” his fingers slow, just enough to drive you crazy, and you glare at him, half-desperate, half-annoyed.

“you’re such a dick,” you pant, but your hips keep moving, chasing his hand. “just—fuck me, okay? stop teasing.”

he grins, all teeth and mischief, but there’s something soft in it, something that makes your chest ache. “anything for my wife,” he says, and then he’s pulling his fingers out, licking them clean with a groan that makes your core clench. he shoves his sweatpants down, freeing his cock—hard, thick, already leaking—and lines himself up, teasing your entrance with the tip. “ready, sweetheart?” he asks, voice softer now, checking in.

you nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “always,” you whisper, and he slides in slow, so slow it steals your breath, stretching you in that perfect, aching way.

“fuck,” he groans, head dropping to your shoulder, “you feel like heaven. every damn time.”

he starts moving, deep, steady thrusts that hit every spot, his hands framing your face, holding you like you’re something precious. “open your eyes, sweetheart,” he says, voice rough with need, thumb brushing your lower lip as you moan beneath him. “let me see you when you fall apart on my cock.”

you do, blinking up at him, and the way he’s looking at you—like you’re his whole world—makes you clench around him, hard. he feels it, curses, and thrusts deeper, harder, but still so controlled, like he’s savoring every second.

“you’re mine,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, your jaw, your collarbone, each word punctuated by a thrust. “this body, this heart—fuck, it’s all mine.”

you’re sobbing his name now, nails raking his back, leaving red lines you know he’ll wear like badges tomorrow. the pleasure’s building, coiling tight, and he knows it, angles his hips just right, hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

“suguru—i’m—fuck, i’m gonna—” you gasp, and he kisses you, deep and messy, swallowing your cries.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, breath warm against your neck, voice low and impossibly calm for a man buried deep in you. “give it to me.”

his thumb circles slow, firm—no rush, just precision—and your body obeys before your mind can catch up. pleasure coils, breaks, crashes, and you come with a cry that sounds more like surrender than climax, clinging to him as your muscles lock and tremble.

he doesn’t stop. doesn’t falter. just keeps moving through the rhythm of your release, hips deep and steady, chasing the heat with quiet, focused groans.

when he follows, it’s with a choked breath, forehead pressed to your shoulder, holding you like he’s never letting go.

he doesn’t pull out, just stays there, buried in you, panting against your neck. “so good for me,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, kissing your shoulder, your jaw, your cheek. “my perfect wife. fuck, you’re everything.”

you’re both sweaty, boneless, but he rolls you over so you’re draped across his chest, his cock still softening inside you. “stay here,” he mumbles, voice sleepy but firm, one hand cupping the back of your head. “wanna wake up like this, you on me, all warm and soft.”

you hum, too tired to argue, and he chuckles, kissing your forehead. “love you, sweetheart,” he whispers, so quiet it’s almost a secret, but you feel it, deep in your bones, the way he holds you like he’ll never let go.

ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER.ᐟ

it’s saturday afternoon, the kitchen a chaotic testament to your shared domesticity. flour dusts the counter like snow, a mixing bowl of half-whisked cookie dough sits abandoned, and the air smells of vanilla and burnt sugar from the batch you almost forgot in the oven.

your pop playlist hums through the bluetooth speaker, some upbeat tune you’re half-singing, half-mumbling, hips swaying as you stir the dough. you’re wearing suguru’s old band tee, the black fabric soft and worn, barely covering your thighs, paired with tiny shorts that ride up every time you move. your hair’s a mess, pinned up with a chopstick, and there’s a smudge of flour on your cheek you haven’t noticed.

suguru’s supposed to be grabbing milk from the fridge for the recipe, but he’s taking his sweet time, leaning against the counter, watching you with that lazy, predatory grin that makes your stomach flip.

“you’re gonna burn the next batch too, sweetheart,” he teases, voice smooth and teasing, crossing his arms so his biceps flex under his fitted black shirt. “focus. or you trying to set the house on fire?”

you shoot him a glare, brandishing the wooden spoon like a weapon. “you focus, suguru. where’s the milk? or you just here to stare?” you turn back to the bowl, stirring harder, but your hips keep swaying, the music too catchy to ignore. you know he’s watching, feel the weight of his gaze on your ass, and maybe you lean into it a little, just to mess with him.

“milk’s right here,” he says, but he doesn’t move, just keeps staring, and when you glance over your shoulder, his eyes are dark, glinting with something that’s definitely not about baking. “but i’m more interested in this,” he adds, stepping closer, voice dropping low. “you, dancing around in my shirt, looking like that. you know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

you snort, trying to play it cool, but your cheeks heat up. “i’m just making cookies, you perv. help or get out.” you flick a bit of flour at him, and it dusts his chest, white against black. he raises an eyebrow, brushing it off, and suddenly he’s behind you, so close you feel the warmth of him before his hands find your hips, tugging you back against him.

“perv, huh?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, breath hot and tickling. his fingers dig into your hips, possessive but playful, and you feel him, hard already, pressing against your ass through his jeans. “says the woman who’s been teasing me all day, prancing around in these little shorts.” one hand slides up, under the hem of the shirt, fingers splaying over your stomach, cold from the milk carton he was holding earlier. you yelp, squirming, but he holds you firm, chuckling low.

“suguru, the oven’s on,” you protest, but it’s weak, half-laughing, because his other hand’s already slipping under your shorts, tugging them down just enough to expose you. “we’re supposed to—fuck—finish baking.”

you try to swat him again with the spoon, but he catches your wrist easily, plucks it from your hand, and lets it clatter against the counter.

“mm-mm,” he hums, sinking to his knees like it’s routine, like it’s right. “try this instead.” before you can blink, he’s tugging your shorts and panties down in one fluid motion, spreading your thighs like they belong open for him—and maybe they do. his mouth finds you without hesitation, tongue tracing a slow, deliberate line that steals the air from your lungs.

“to hell with the cookies,” he mutters against your skin, warmth blooming where his lips graze your thigh. then he stands, smooth and sure, spinning you around like you weigh nothing and setting you on the counter. the cold edge bites into your thighs; flour sticks to your skin. he just smiles, gaze heavy-lidded and hungry.

“messy suits you,” he says, nudging your knees wider with his hips. “bet you’ll taste even sweeter.”

“suguru—shit,” you gasp, hands flying to his hair, tugging the dark strands loose from his bun. he groans against you, the vibration shooting through your core, and his tongue’s relentless, deep and intentional, lapping at you like he’s starving. one arm hooks around your thigh, keeping you open, pinned to the counter, while his other hand grips your hip, fingers digging in like he knows you’ll try to squirm away—or collapse.

“fuck, i’ll never get tired of this,” he mumbles, voice muffled, lips slick with you. he sucks your clit, slow and hard, then flicks his tongue, and your moans are bouncing off the cabinets, louder than the music. the counter’s cold under you, flour sticking to your sweaty skin, but all you can feel is him, his mouth, his hands, the way he knows exactly how to unravel you.

“so sweet, baby,” he says, pulling back just enough to look up at you, eyes glinting, lips glistening. “all mine.”

you’re a mess, thighs shaking, gripping his hair so tight he hisses, but it’s a good sound, the kind that makes him dive back in, tongue fucking you deep until you’re seeing stars. “suguru—gonna—fuck,” you pant, and he hums, encouraging, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple through the shirt, making you arch.

“come on my tongue, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice rough, needy. “let me taste how much you want me.” you do, hard, a broken cry tearing from your throat as pleasure crashes through you, your body trembling against his mouth. he doesn’t stop, licking you through it, slow and greedy, until you’re whimpering, oversensitive, tugging his hair to pull him away.

he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and grins like he’s won the lottery. “fuck, you’re perfect,” he says, and then he’s kissing you, deep and messy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you’re still catching your breath when he flips you around, bending you over the counter, hiking the shirt up to expose your back. “look at this,” he groans, hands gripping your hips, spreading you open. “this pussy’s so fucking pretty, baby. always so perfect for me.”

you hear his zipper, the rustle of his jeans, and then he’s sliding in, hard and fast, filling you so completely you gasp, hands scrabbling at the counter. flour smears under your palms, the mixing bowl tips over with a clatter, and he laughs, low and filthy, thrusting deep. “fuck, you take me so well,” he says, voice rough, one hand sliding up your spine, pressing you down. “made for me, weren’t you?”

“suguru—shit,” you moan, the counter digging into your hips, his thrusts shaking the whole damn kitchen. the fridge hums, the oven beeps, ignored, and your nails scrape against the surface, leaving trails in the flour. “too—fuck—too much,” you whimper, but you’re pushing back against him, chasing the heat, and he knows it.

“too much?” he teases, leaning down to kiss your shoulder, teeth grazing. “nah, baby, you can take it. you always do.” his other hand finds your clit, rubbing hard, and you’re gone, moaning so loud you’re sure the neighbors hear. “that’s it,” he growls, “come for me again. let me feel this pussy squeeze me.”

you do, harder than before, legs shaking, vision blurring as pleasure rips through you. he’s right behind you, thrusting deep, groaning your name as he spills inside, hot and thick, his grip on your hips bruising. “fuck, baby,” he pants, still moving, slower now, riding out the aftershocks. “you’re mine. always mine.”

you’re both panting, sweaty, flour everywhere—on your thighs, your hands, his shirt. you wobble when he pulls out, and he catches you, laughing softly as he lifts you back onto the counter.

“sit there, messy girl,” he says, kissing your temple, your nose, with ridiculous gentleness for someone who just fucked you senseless. “i’ll clean this up. you just look cute and stay out of trouble, yeah?”

he grabs a towel, wiping the flour off your thighs, your arms, then starts picking up the spilled dough, all while stealing kisses like he can’t help himself. “we’re never baking again,” you mutter, still breathless, and he laughs, full and warm, pulling you into his chest.

“oh, we’re baking tomorrow,” he says, smirking. “but only if i get to eat you first.” he winks, and you swat him, but you’re laughing too, because this—messy, filthy, and so fucking in love—is just how you like it.

ON THE STAIRS.ᐟ

it’s well past midnight, the house wrapped in that heavy, hushed stillness that makes every creak feel louder. you’re tiptoeing down the stairs, barefoot, the wood cool under your feet, trying not to wake suguru. you’re only wearing his old black t-shirt, the one with the faded band logo, the hem barely brushing your thighs, no panties because it’s too warm and you’re just grabbing water.

the kitchen’s dark below, the fridge’s hum the only sound, but you’re barely halfway down when you feel it—his presence, like a shadow moving before you hear him. your heart skips, not from fear but from that familiar thrill, the way he always finds you, like you’re his prey and his home all at once.

“where you sneaking off to, baby?” his voice cuts through the dark, rough and low, tinged with that teasing lilt that makes your skin prickle. he’s at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the banister, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and messy from sleep.

the dim moonlight through the window catches the sharp lines of his jaw, the glint in his eyes, and you pause, one hand on the railing, caught.

“just thirsty,” you mutter, trying to sound casual, but your voice wavers, and the way you’re gripping the railing gives you away. you take another step, slow, like you’re not already burning under his gaze. “go back to bed, suguru. you look like you need it.”

he chuckles, soft and dangerous, stepping up to meet you, his movements lazy but deliberate, like a panther stalking. “thirsty, huh? funny, cause you’re killing me, prancing around in my shirt, no panties, ass out like you don’t know what it does to me.” he’s closer now, one step below you, close enough that you feel the heat rolling off him, smell the faint cedar of his skin. his hands find your hips, fingers slipping under the shirt, grazing your bare skin, and you suck in a breath, trying to hold your ground.

“you’re so dramatic,” you say, rolling your eyes, but it’s weak, and the way you lean into his touch betrays you. you swat at his chest, playful, but he catches your wrist, pinning it against the wall with one hand, the other sliding up your thigh, teasing the edge of the shirt.

“suguru, it’s late,” you whisper, half-laughing, half-pleading, but your legs part just enough, and he notices, because he always does.

“late, huh?” he murmurs, stepping up so he’s level with you, his body pressing you back against the wall, the stair’s edge digging into your spine. “too late to stop now, sweetheart.” his lips brush your neck, soft at first, then he bites, not hard but enough to make you gasp, your free hand clutching his shoulder.

“fuck, you look so good like this,” he says, voice rougher now, his hand sliding higher, finding you bare and slick. “youtrying to ruin me?”

“maybe,” you manage, smirking despite the heat pooling in your belly, and you tug at his hair, just to mess with him. he groans, low and filthy, and suddenly he’s feral, all that teasing charm turning sharp, hungry. he releases your wrist, grabs your thigh, and lifts your leg, hooking it over the step above, spreading you open.

“suguru—fuck,” you gasp, but he’s already there, fingers stroking you, slow and deliberate, spreading your wetness like it’s his to play with.

“look at you,” he growls, eyes dark, glinting in the moonlight. “so fucking wet, just from this. you want your husband that bad, huh?” he slides two fingers inside you, curling them deep, and you moan, loud enough to echo in the quiet house. his other hand covers your mouth, gentle but firm, muffling you.

“shh, baby,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear, “neighbors don’t need to know how good i’m fucking you.”

you bite his palm, half-defiant, half-desperate, and he hisses, but it’s a good sound, the kind that makes him grind against you, his cock hard and straining through his sweatpants.

“brat,” he mutters, but there’s a smile in it, and he pulls his fingers out, licking them clean with a groan that makes your knees weak. “taste so fucking good,” he says, and then he’s tugging his sweatpants down, just enough to free himself, thick and leaking, pressing against you.

“suguru—here?” you whisper, but you’re already arching into him, hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging in. the stair’s hard against your back, the railing creaking as you lean into it, but you don’t care, not when he’s looking at you like that, like you’re his whole damn world.

“right here,” he says, and he slides in raw, no prep, just pure, desperate need, filling you so completely you cry out, muffled by his hand. “shit,” he groans, biting your neck to stifle himself, “you take me so well.” his thrusts are hard, fast, shaking the stairs, the wood creaking under you, and you’re clawing at his back, trying not to collapse, your leg trembling where it’s hooked over the step.

every move is frantic, his hips snapping against yours, the wet sounds of your bodies louder than your muffled moans. “keep it quiet, sweetheart,” he pants, but his hand’s slipping, and you’re not quiet, not really, your whimpers spilling out as he fucks you into the drywall.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, free hand sliding down to rub your clit, fast and rough, making you sob his name behind his palm.

you’re close, so close, the pleasure coiling tight, and he knows it, feels it in the way you clench around him.

“come for me,” he demands, voice low, urgent, his thumb circling your clit harder. “let me feel this pussy squeeze me, baby.”

you do, hard, a muffled cry breaking free as pleasure crashes through you, your body shaking, legs giving out. he holds you up, thrusting through your aftershocks, groaning your name as he spills deep, hot and thick, still moving like he can’t stop.

you’re both panting, sweaty, trembling, the stairs creaking like they’re about to give up. your legs are jelly, but he catches you, pulling out slow, his arms wrapping around you like you’re something precious. “can’t have my wife crawling upstairs, can i?” he teases, voice soft now, kissing your hair as he lifts you, carrying you up the last few steps like it’s nothing. he’s still hard, still inside you, and you feel him twitch, making you laugh, breathless.

“you’re insatiable,” you mutter, head lolling against his chest, and he grins, smug and warm, nuzzling your temple.

“only for you, sweetheart,” he says, setting you on the landing, but he doesn’t let go, just holds you there, kissing your forehead, your nose, your lips. “round two in bed, yeah? gotta take care of my girl.” he winks, and you swat him, but you’re smiling, because this—feral, messy, and so fucking in love—is everything you both are.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Late Night Thoughts wt. Lenore

(Another snippet pulled directly from a scene I've been working on in my long-fic! I hope you enjoy this little preview)

♡

"One iced pumpkin spice latte, two slices of lemon cake, and a cappuccino with caramel, please."

'Gale is such a natural with people,' you mused with a small smile as you watched him order at the counter. After you had expressed some measure of discomfort on the way to the coffee shop, Gale was insistent that you went to your corner booth ahead of him and made yourself comfortable while he took care of the food and drinks.

He knew your order without asking. You tried to pretend that didn't fluster you beyond belief. You adjusted on the cushion you had brought with you and busied yourself with the books and notepads in your bag. Pulling out your journal, you jotted a few lines down about your activities with Gale that day, noting some of your favorite moments before stowing it back into your bag and pulling out one of the books you'd found at the library.

"Doing research already?" You looked up. Gale was looking down at you with warm eyes, an expectant smirk, and a tray in his hands — your coffees and pastries atop it.

"Oh!" You closed the book, opting instead to help him balance the tray as he unloaded it. "Just figured I'd read a bit while I waited," you shrugged.

"Oh, no need to explain to me," Gale said, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. "I'm known to pass my time with my nose deep in tomes as well."

You put a hand over your heart, your jaw dropping dramatically. "You? Gale? Reading? I can't imagine."

"Ha! I suppose it's quite the unexpected turn of events." His smirk grew deeper. "Though, it's not as though you've never found my focus on a book in any more... compromising situations before,"

Your face flushed violently as the memories of his glistening bare torso flicked through your mind like a slideshow. "I cannot believe you brought that up here." Your hands covered your face, and you tried suppressing the embarrassed giggle in your throat.

His chuckle had you peeking through your fingers, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. "I'm not ashamed." He grinned at you from across the table, and it only made your blush deepen.

'That's because you're the most gorgeous man alive!' Your thoughts screeched as you attempted to gain some semblance of composure. "You're something else, Gale Dekarios," you muttered, shaking your head, still unable to keep the mirth from your voice.

"I could say the very same about you, Lyra Whitlock," he replied, a certain, familiar measure of fondness in his eyes.

You didn't pick up the book again that afternoon.

~

[strawberryflavoredvenum]

Creepypasta mental health hcs

Like always, I am completely disregarding the cannon(and my earlier hcs) ^⁠_⁠^

Also tw: mental illness (duh), self harm, psychosis, depersonalization. Idk tw everything.

Also I hope everyone knows that none of these disorders create these kinds of people. This is all fiction and 99% of people with these disorders don't even get close to this. Ik it sounds obvious but I still want to remind you. I have ptsd, asd, and persistent depression. I also have friends with some of these and they are all amazing people. I mean this for personality disorders/disorders with stigma like npd or bpd as well.

Toby

❤️ schizophrenia

He has an even mix negative and positive symptoms. He doesn't experience them all at the same time. The negative symptoms are more common throughout the day, but the positive ones are more severe. (negative or positive does not mean good or bad. They are terms used to describe whether or not a symptom adds or takes away something to someone's behavior/functioning. A positive symptom can be hallucinations, while a negative symptom may me impaired attention)

His negative symptoms include not taking care of himself, self isolation, alogia (made worse when people bullied him for his speech patterns/tourettes), and anhedonia.

Positive symptoms include scrambled speech (word salad), delusions of persecution, auditory and visual hallucinations. Auditory:voices, name calling, other proxies voices, crying and screaming. Visual: bugs, shadow people, Lyra, hands, visual distortion. He also feels paranoid and nihilistic thinking.

During episodes he is known to hide, lash out, extreme emotional outbursts of fear, paranoia, anger or sadness. He also displays agitation, poor hygiene, and a lack of social awareness.

❤️Pica

Idk but I've always head cannoned him to have this. He is kinda sneaky about it so other proxies watch him closely around objects he's been known to try. Things like paper, paint chips, parchment, or anything with a ceramic/clay pottery/glass like consistency.

❤️tourettes

It's not as severe in my hc as it is in cannon. Still noticeable though. If he could feel it, his neck would be in so much pain.

❤️cipa

This is self explanatory. He has to check himself over with a mirror so he doesn't accidentally leave an injury untended. He finds random bruises he didn't know about all the time. He has to take great care to make sure he doesn't forget about injuries, letting them get infected. He has many scars. Also a couple chunks bitten out of his cheek and tongue.

❤️ He needs more help than the other proxies but has learned to live with his disorders and hold a routine. Toby is willing accept help, but only from certain people that he trusts and cares for. He tries his best every day to be better than the next.

Nina

❤️ manic depression

She has horrible episodes of depression, with intense mood swings. She was originally diagnosed with bipolar. She'll either be in bed all day, flirting/obsessing over Jeff(who is not reciprocating) or getting into arguments and impulsively spending her money. She also struggles with self harm. She hides it behind sleeves or heavy bracelets. Jane worries and checks on her often to make sure she's okay. Bringing her food and trying to get her to take a walk when Nina is depressed. When Nina is manic, Jane tries to ground her and keep her on a routine. She feels very guilty afterwards. Her friends understand. They all have issues.

❤️ hypersexuality

She doesn't have a lot of sex but she has intense intrusive thoughts about it. Especially involving jeff. She doesn't like to open up about it because of the stigma. She doesn't want people to see her as a slut or something. Most of them would never think that of her or anyone with hypersexuality. They wouldn't care if she was a whore to begin with.

❤️ Erotomania

She is convinced that Jeff and her are meant to be. She finds random signs that Jeff is reciprocating in things that don't exist. Jeff doesn't like her very much. Other proxies feel uncomfortable about it and try to keep them separate. (Nina would never cross the line into predatory behavior. None of the proxies are like that.) It's gotten much better but she falls back into old thought patterns during episodes. Nina has learned to respect boundaries and respect Jeff's.

❤️ drug abuse

She's been known to abuse party drugs. They are hard to get as a proxy(and also banned in the house) so it's much less severe than before.

❤️ histrionic personality disorder

She feels much more intensely in every way. She believes that her friendships are closer than they are, her emotions have no middle ground, and she has strong opinions on everything. She has some attention seeking tendencies and feels bad when she doesn't receive the desired response. She isn't a liar but often exaggerates when she tells stories.

❤️Nina is pretty receptive to help as long as she isn't in an episode. Sometimes she feels hopeless and gives up but not for long. She watches a lot of online therapy videos since they can't get a therapist.

Jeff

❤️ Antisocial personality disorder

He struggles to have much care for other people or their feelings. He's incredibly impulsive and thrill seeking. This has made him both the best and worst proxy in the mansion. He doesn't see the moral issue with lying. Luckily he's pretty bad at it and can never keep his story straight. His mood throughout the day is either agitated or bored. Becoming a proxy has made his antisocial behavior worse because he is able to justify it in his mind. If you asked him, he would say that he doesn't love anyone. Though he doesn't care for anyone, he likes being around Liu. His brother is one of the only people he chooses to talk to outside of joking or missions.

❤️ trichotillomania

Skin picking was always something he did but it got much worse after the fire. He tends to pick at the area between burned, and normal skin. He does the same with his scars. Putting bandages on his arms can help prevent picking. He tries not to look in mirrors often. Not because he hates how he looks, but it makes him want to pick more.

❤️psychosis

It's how he became "Jeff the killer" in the first place. In the early stages, he becomes more paranoid, disorganized, and stops taking care of himself. During the episode, he becomes mistrustful, agitated, comes to random conclusions/assumptions, doesn't sleep for days, and becomes more hostile. The full episode can last from a week to a month.

❤️ insomnia

He stays up until he drops. He doesn't try to help his insomnia until someone else intervenes. It majorly exacerbates his other problems.

❤️ He's generally not open to change. he could have gotten better if his parents had caught/cared it sooner. Liu isn't going to give up on him though. He doesn't care how much Jeff complains or lashes out. Liu and Slenderman are the only ones able to get Jeff to cooperate or calm down.

Liu

❤️ptsd

He isn't upset at his brother. But he still survived a horrific ordeal because of him. Sometimes when helping Jeff through an episode, he'll accidentally trigger Liu. Liu is determined to help Jeff, even if his PTSD makes it hard. He has bad nightmares about waking up to see Jeff. He tries to isolate when it gets bad. Jeff doesn't notice when Liu is struggling but when he finds out, he tries to help in his own way. Usually giving him space since he knows Liu's PTSD is mostly from him. Liu feels guilty about it.

❤️ codependence

Liu doesn't feel that he has anything left after everything that's happened. Even if Jeff was the one to kill their parents, and almost him, he is all Liu has left. He doesn't like living here but he'll go anywhere his brother goes. He feels responsible. Jeff would never admit this but Liu knows Jeff still needs him.

❤️major depressive disorder

He's had it since he was a kid. He feels empty and his motivation to do anything goes down the drain. His appetite is one of the first things to go. Not because he isn't hungry, but he doesn't feel like leaving his room. He'll sit at his desk staring at the work he needs to do or lay in bed.

Helen

❤️ autism spectrum disorder

He's always felt different. Never really known how to interact with others. He mostly keeps to himself. You don't need to learn to talk to people if you never talk to them. He has a system for everything that makes it easier for him. He keeps most things about himself private because he can be sensitive. Before he became a proxy, he tried to mask but he doesn't care anymore.

❤️Social phobia

All the bullying wrecked his self esteem. He feels that everyone is judging him. The other proxies don't see him much. He would rather sit in his room doing art. He even got a mini fridge so he wouldn't have to leave as much. He has heart palpitations and feels nauseous when he has to interact with the more abrasive proxies(Jeff).

❤️ generalized anxiety

Even before the bullying, he's always been an anxious person. He fidgets and double checks everything around him to make sure nothing will go wrong.

❤️ paranoid personality disorder

He generally does not trust others. It's not completely inaccurate half the time. He feels that others are out to get him. Relationships are really hard because he doesn't believe anyone actually likes him.

❤️ He's neutral about recovery but he needs to let someone in. He won't get better unless he learns to rely on someone else but he's scared.

Jane

❤️ptsd

Like Liu, she also has ptsd after what Jeff put her through. Unlike Liu, she hates Jeff for what he did. She feels angry about it because she didn't deserve what happened to her. She has a hard time letting herself fall asleep and has had panic attacks. She doesn't remember most of what happened and that might be for the best.

❤️body dysmorphia

She had this since middle school but it got worse when she was burned. The fire and left her body burned and scarred. She tries not to think about it but she misses how she looked before. She covers up a lot because she doesn't like her burns being stared at. Also because the burns are sensitive.

❤️she is actually trying her best to get better. She reads books and does meditation.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[seireitonin]

You mentioned you have a post on how Toby would be like if he had a kid? Can we see it? 👀

YES YOU CAN!

When his children are born, he’s literally twitching with happiness and excitement. He looks at his s/o holding his kids and just breaks down in happiness. Like crying happy tears. He kisses his s/os face all over and hugs them. He looks down at his children with nothing but love. His heart has never been so happy.

So if Toby had a kid I’d think he’d raise them about the same regardless of gender but I can name a few differences and how he interacts w them depending on gender

If he had a boy oh my god…it would be perfect for him. Toby is literally hyperactive and up beat so keeping up with a small boy would be no problem for him. I can see him chasing his kid around till they’re both exhausted. Toby’s also loud so I can see him and his son having random screaming contests. Toby and his son would definitely play ball in the house and break something and would quickly clean it up together before Toby’s s/o could find out. When questioned about something being missing Toby and his son would look at each other and shrug “I dunno…have you seen it,kid?” “Nope! I haven’t!” Toby definitely sees himself in his son and aims to be the father his dad never was. So when his son acts up, he doesn’t get upset or take it out on him. He takes time to actually teach him. They also definitely have eating contests together. Like seeing who can eat the most food the fastest. They have races, they play video games together, they wrestle. Just Toby being a good dad to his son.

With his daughter he only had one name in mind, Lyra. Toby loved her more than anyone just like he loves his daughter more than anyone. Her memory will live on in his daughter. The name just fills his heart with joy. Toby looks up YouTube tutorials on how to do his daughter’s hair, she has loose curls like Toby does. He also learns how to do her hair from his wife/ s/o. “Do you like this hairstyle, Lyra?” “Hmm I want the ponytail higher” “You got it! Let me find a tutorial” Toby lets his daughter paint his nails and put bows in his hair. Toby and his daughter bake together, sing together and go shopping together. Although she’s still a little kid with a lot of energy so Toby and her have races and run around playing ball in the house alongside her brother and Toby. Toby definitely sneaks her candy because she’s just so cute. Constant forehead kisses.

For both of them he teaches them how to ride scooters and bikes. When they’re older he teaches them how to fight. For his son he really ingrains in him to never hit a woman/ girl. Toby makes them dinner as best as he can or at least supports his s/o who is cooking. He has to look up YouTube tutorials on healthy meals for kids because growing up and up to a few years ago he was living off ramen and other instant foods. Toby gives both of them lots of hugs and affection because that’s what he always wanted as a kid. Him and his kids take naps together after they’re exhausted. Toby sleeps in the middle mouth open and snoring and his kids are on either side of him, resting in his arms. Toby lets his kids eat dessert before dinner, but is trying to stop because he wants to be responsible. He takes his kids to the park and chases them around on the playground. He made them a tire swing in the woods. He’ll do anything for them.

Toby definitely still has mental issues and mood swings but instead of letting his kids see that he’ll isolate himself and let his wife/ s/o take over for the day. He doesn’t even want to risk behaving like his dad in anyway. He doesn’t want his kids to see him as anything but loving and supportive.“Your dad’s not feeling well so let’s go to the park.” Toby is scared that he passed on some of his issues to his kids but even if he did, he’s going to love and support them regardless. Nothing in this world will make him stop loving them. Toby broke the cycle of abuse by just being a good dad. He rebuilt the family that he lost so many years ago. And he’s the man that he’s always wanted to be.

[hugmekenobi]

Heal

A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Shaking the effects of Tantiss is easier said than done

Warnings: Literally one use of (Y/N), swearing, hints of Tech/Phee, references to past pain and torture, angst, hurt/comfort, nightmares and trouble sleeping, descriptions of illness (headaches), reader is hard on herself, suggestive dialogue, light PDA (kissing, teasing touches), mentions of food, me making up what everyone is up to on Pabu, fluff and happy ending

Masterlist for S1, S2 and S3

Word Count: 7.2K

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Okay, not gonna lie, I struggled with this one. It was a last minute idea as I was rewatching and writing the final few episodes of season 3 but it worked and felt a lot better in my head and when it came to writing, my brain was not my friend lol. I hope it's still enjoyable! The next oneshot is the story I've had planned for months so that should be a smoother process haha

It had been a few weeks since you’d all taken up official residence in Pabu.

Shep’s offer of setting up homes for you all stayed true.

You and Hunter had been put in a hut perfectly designed for the two of you that was a short walk away from the water and there was even a spare room for Omega who alternated between sleeping in your home and the home Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker all shared.

The three other clones may have been grouped together but there was plenty of room, and not a lot of time was spent indoors anyway.

Wrecker had taken to fishing like, well, like a fish to water.

Crosshair did a bit of everything, helping out with tasks of whoever needed assistance but he mainly he kept up with practicing shooting with his left hand. He wanted the practice, and he genuinely enjoyed it. He didn’t miss being a soldier anymore but that didn’t mean he had to renege on his skills.

Tech spent much of his time with Phee or assisting Shep in rebuilding parts of Pabu that still needed it and upgrading equipment.  

Omega often kept close company with Lyana and the other young reg clones or she went off with Tech to plan out a potential search for lost or salvageable pieces of the Marauder- the two of them had dreams of rebuilding new a ship with as many pieces of their old home as possible. It was yet to be undertaken but the vision was there.

The task of reuniting the children from Tantiss with their families had been successful but with that final mission complete, you and Hunter were also in the same boat as Crosshair and still yet to find your official niche on island. For now, you both were just relishing in the peace and each other’s company.

One thing you had managed to achieve was finding a way to finally get in touch with Lyra again, who- despite being filled in on everything that had happened since you parted ways on Christophsis- still managed to scold you for the lack of communication. But after hearing you all were alive and settled, she’d sent you all packages of more suitable island clothes with promises to visit soon.

Everything was coming together and so you were feeling one with the island life.

However, life here was not without its challenges.

The impact and aftermath of Tantiss remained a constant shadow that would still find ways to rear its ugly head. Something you and Hunter in particular found yourselves dealing with.

--

“I figured we could have the party in the next couple of weeks right here in the colonnade and, I don’t know, you could slip away or…” Shep trailed off as he saw the way Hunter’s brow furrowed in pain.

“Uh huh.” Hunter agreed distantly. He didn’t want to ignore Shep, especially when he was doing him the favour, but fuck had the sun always been this bright? The blinding pain behind his eyes and throbbing in his skull was getting harder to dismiss.  

You were a casual observer and listener to the conversation between the young reg clones and the adult clones that had remained on the island- Deke, Stak and Mox had no shortage of questions for them. But you sensed a rising discomfort and then you caught the way Hunter kept pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting to get away from the glare of the warm sun. “Excuse me.” You politely removed yourself from the conversation and hurriedly walked over to where Shep and Hunter were conversing. “Shep, I’m sorry to interrupt but do you mind if I steal him away for a moment?”

“Not at all.” Shep bid the two of you farewell with a smile.

You lightly rested a hand on his upper arm. “Hunter? Another flare up?” You figured, keeping your worried voice quiet.

Hunter just about managed a nod and said through gritted teeth, “But I can wait it out. Shep-”

He would attempt to come up with an excuse every time and every time you wouldn’t even entertain it. “Come on.” You carefully wrapped an arm around him and guided him back home.

--

You opened the door and carried on through to the bedroom. You gently prompted him to sit on the bed as you knelt down and took his shoes off before you shut the bedroom window to cancel out the noise outside and closed the blinds to keep the sunlight out. You kept your voice low and monotone as you instructed him, “Lie down.”

Hunter did as you said and rested on his back.

The routine was second nature to you. He hadn’t had headaches like this for a while but since Tantiss and because of what he’d suffered there, they’d become more frequent. His senses hadn’t quite readjusted back to what they used to be.

You moved silently throughout the house as you went to the freezer and came back with the cold compress you stored specifically for these moments and placed it over his eyes. “I’ll just be in the living room if you need anything. Try to sleep.” You whispered caringly before you lightly squeezed his hand and made to leave. However, you had barely stepped away from the bed when Hunter’s hand caught your wrist.

“Stay.” He requested through a wince.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.” You cautioned quietly. You had remained a couple times before, but it had never been a certainty that he wanted you to stay when he was going through this. You always waited for him to give the okay.

“You can’t.” He murmured. He needed you here to ground him in a way the usual methods could never do.

You removed your own shoes and supported his back as you sat him up and slotted yourself behind him.

Hunter rested his head against your chest.

You readjusted the compress slightly once you were both in a comfortable position. “This okay?” You asked as you softly massaged each of his temples.

Hunter let out a tranquil sigh and he could already feel the discomfort receding. You always knew just what it was he needed from you in these moments. “Perfect.”

--

Hunter wasn’t the only one still feeling the lingering toil of Tantiss. Your screams of terror and the way you thrashed next to him woke him up. He called your name and shook your arm to wake you up. “Hey, hey. Easy, easy. It’s alright.” He assured you as he saw your eyes widen in fear.

You shot awake and hastily sat up, your breathing hard and uneven.

“You’re okay. I’m here.” Hunter whispered soothingly as he sat up alongside you.

You closed your eyes and let his voice be the only thing you focused on.

“You’re alright. It was a bad dream.”

Right yes, a bad dream.

“Hold on.” Hunter pressed his lips to your clothed shoulder before he got out of bed and ran a cloth under some cold water.

You worked on getting your breathing back under control. You ran a hand over your face and felt the beads of sweat dripping down your temples and down your neck and back. Your sleep top was sticking to you uncomfortably. But you forced yourself to concentrate on anything that didn’t remind you of the nightmare you’d just escaped. You took in your secure and familiar surroundings of your bedroom to calm yourself down. You weren’t back there. You were on Pabu with Hunter. You were safe here.  

Hunter slid back in bed beside you. “Arms up.” He prompted delicately. When you did that, he carefully removed your sweat soaked top and tossed it to the side of the bed– he’d deal with it in the morning- and placed the cool cloth to the back of your neck and spine before he tenderly dabbed at your temples. He then put a replacement top back over your head and continued to press the flannel around your forehead and neck.

“I’m sorry.” You rasped as you hid your face in your palms in embarrassment. You hated this. He would already have tough days and you couldn’t even offer him any relief in the evenings. The two of you had gotten into a rather unfortunate ritual where you would comfort him during the day and then the roles would switch as soon as night fell.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Hunter reassured you lovingly. He placed the cloth on the bedside table and rubbed his hand up and down your back to ease away the lingering tension and to help settle you back down. “Same one?” He guessed.

You nodded but kept your face hidden from him. “I’m just standing there. I’m watching him hurt you over and over again and I’m not doing anything to stop it.” You said, your voice cracking with each word. “Then he goes to the rest of you- to Omega. I’m completely frozen and all I can do is watch you all writhe in pain. I keep fighting to move but nothing happens. I’m just so useless and I stand by and let it happen. You’re crying out for help, and I just stand there.” You whispered with plenty of self-loathing behind your words.

Hunter shushed you consolingly. “But that’s not what happened. It’s just the nightmare talking.”

“Is it? Because it feels an awful lot like that’s what I did.” You said with self-directed disgust.

““You didn’t do nothing. You didn’t give up. You did what you thought you needed to do to get us out of there alive.” Hunter reminded you.

“Imprisoned.” You corrected.

“Alive.” Hunter countered.

You knew there was no sense in arguing with him over it. “I should be over this by now. I coped after Christophsis. I don’t know why this is sticking with me so much.” You said critically instead.

Hunter was all too familiar with this line of argument. As soon as you admitted to the nightmare and the fear it brought, you started looking for ways to berate yourself for feeling the way you were. “You couldn’t process Christophsis on your own time. You were in a position where you were forced to carry on. And I don’t think going through and being impacted by torture has a time requirement.”

You finally half-turned to face him. “Do you really believe that?”

The doubt in your voice made his throat constrict and chest tighten. “I know it.”

“But dealing with this is annoying.” You mumbled self-consciously and you averted your gaze once more.

“Do you get annoyed when you’ve needed to help me?”

You lifted your eyes back to him. “No, of course not.”

“Exactly. You help me through those episodes. Why do you think I’d treat you any differently?” He rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone. “You still need to give yourself the same treatment you give other people.” He said caringly.

You leaned your head against Hunter’s shoulder and just gave a series of reluctant but agreeable noises to signal your acceptance of his statement.

“You’re talking to me though. That counts for something.” Hunter praised, angling his head so he could kiss your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m a work in progress.” You managed to say with some light-heartedness before your voice went solemn again. “Just don’t give up on me… please.”

“Never.” Hunter promised with steadfast seriousness.

Your eyes flickered shut and you snuggled closer to him as he ran his hand up and down your arm in soft, delicate patterns.

“Want to sleeping try again?” He suggested after he felt your breathing and pulse settle back down.

You gulped but agreed to give sleep another go. “Okay.” You laid back down readjusted the covers you had kicked off in your sleep-panicked state. You breathed deeply as you closed your eyes and willed yourself to at least get a couple uninterrupted hours. But the darker part of your nightmare, the part you couldn’t vocalise, lingered with you and you didn’t know how to get past it.

Hunter wrapped his arm around your side and pulled your back tight to his chest, but despite all you opened up about, he knew you were holding something back. It was the same every night and he knew sleep would continue to elude you.

--

This new day was nearly over. Dusk had come and gone but the concept of night and sleep filled you with a deep anxiety. You needed to clear your head before you even thought about winding down for the night. “I’m going for a walk; I’ll be back soon.” You said, giving Hunter a chaste kiss to his lips before you exited your home.

Hunter gave you a slight smile as you parted from him, and he could only watch you leave. He had never felt so helpless.

He knew he couldn’t quite help you in the way you needed but there might be someone else who could.

--

“Hey there, Hunter.” Phee greeted cheerily as she opened the door to greet the clone.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Hunter asked apologetically.

Phee rolled her eyes, “Pfftt no way. He’s been at this for hours, if you can get his attention onto something else, be my guest.”  She led him through to the living room.

Tech grunted his greeting as he sought out the tool that he needed for the task he was completing for Shep. The island had a healer- Dalia, but she mainly operated out of her home because, until recently, that suited just fine. But when the attack on Pabu occurred, Shep and Dalia had found themselves ill-prepared for accommodating the seriousness of the injuries that followed so Tech was assisting in expanding and updating her equipment and resources. AZ was already a big help with that, but more was needing done. It was a longer but important project that Tech was taking very seriously.

 “Sorry about the mess.” Phee said with an annoyed yet affectionate stare in Tech’s direction, but she was not surprised when the clone did not appear to even register that she’d spoken. She had stopped trying to get Tech to tidy as he went about altering this latest piece of machinery since he’d insistently claimed there was an order to the chaos around him. The entire area in which he was working was covered with random tools and intricate pieces of machinery. Phee struggled to see how this all equalled a system since all she saw was an array random pieces of metal taking up her living room floor. It didn’t truly bother her though; it was just another quirk she was fond off. Her appreciation for his intelligence and passion outweighed a little untidiness.

“Don’t worry, it’s something I’m very used to.” Hunter said lightly as he carefully stepped over some discarded screws.

“Sit down.” Phee encouraged, gesturing to a spare chair as she took a seat on the couch across from where Tech was working in the middle of the floor. But when Hunter made no move to do so, Phee properly looked at him and she noticed the distant and slightly nervous expression Hunter donned. “Everything alright?”

“I need your help, Tech.” Hunter said in answer.

Tech spoke for the first time since Hunter arrived as he found the spanner he needed, “I’m not yet finished with this. Once I’m done-”

“I don’t need you to fix anything, Tech. It’s about (Y/N). She’s struggling right now and-”

“Well, we know that she has a habit of taking things on by herself. A habit both of you have shared for quite a while.” Tech said plainly, not taking his eyes off the medical equipment he was fixing up. “I wouldn’t take her refusal or dismissals personally.”

Hunter bit back his frustrated huff. He knew attempting to get his brother’s focus when he was so absorbed by a project was always going to be challenging. He went to speak again but Phee beat him to it.

Enough was enough. Phee firmly nudged Tech’s good thigh with her boot, “Would you stop playing around with that and actually pay attention to what he has to say?”

Tech snapped out of his intense concentration. “Right, yes. Sorry, Hunter.” He started officially packing up. Once he was done, he gave his brother his full attention and it was then that he saw the genuine worry on Hunter’s face which told him it was more important than any mechanical repair. “What’s going on with her?”

“She keeps having nightmares from her capture on Tantiss. I can’t remember the last time she slept through the night.” Hunter took a ragged breath. “And it’s not like she’s keeping them to herself and that’s why they’re so bad. She’s doing everything we’ve worked on. She talks to me; she lets me in and help her, but I know there’s something else she’s keeping hidden. And it’s because she knows I can’t offer her the right words, or she wants to protect me from whatever it is she’s not telling me. I’m stuck and she’s not getting any better and I can’t offer her anything more than what I’m currently doing.”

“So, how exactly can I help?” Tech asked, rather puzzled as to why his brother had come to him with this dilemma. He wasn’t exactly known for providing helpful assistance for this type of issue. It wasn’t that he never wanted to, it just always didn’t come easily to him and usually you and Hunter would always be able to work through it yourselves.

Hunter began tentatively, “Y-your experiences were- were similar. I’d thought about Crosshair but what he went through was a bit different and from what you’ve told us, it sounds closer to what she’s been through. I hate to ask it of you but-”

“Where is she?” Tech asked, getting to his feet.

“If you’re not comfortable doing this I understand. It’s a lot to talk about and-”

“Hunter, just tell me where she is.” Tech interrupted with a firm reassurance to show that he truly didn’t mind.

“Down by the shore.” Hunter told him through a grateful sigh.  

Tech nodded and got ready to leave for the beach.

--

You breathed in the fresh and clean sea air, a gentle breeze wafted through your hair. The moonlight cast the water and sand in a luminous white glow. It offered you a peace you were yet to find in your own mind. The faint but demanding whines of the hound you’d acquired on your walk down had you smiling to yourself as you focused on the sounds of the waves lapping on the shore.

Tech saw you seated on the sand, Batcher waiting for you to throw a stick for her. “Did you know that gravity and the gravitational pull of the moon creates a phenomenon called tidal force, which is what causes the ocean tides to change?”

“I mean… I knew it was something like that.” You straightened your shoulders and managed a tight smile in his direction. “Hey, Tech.” You hoped you didn’t sound as exhausted as you felt.

Tech picked up on the heaviness in your voice despite your attempts to conceal it. “Also, did you know that water absorbs the red light of the colour spectrum, leaving the blue for us to see.” He added as he threw the stick for the hound.

You hummed out your acceptance of the fact as a reply whilst Batcher returned the stick but- after greeting Tech- decided she’d had enough and curled up beside you. “You didn’t come here to share ocean facts, Tech.” You said after a moment. “What’s going on?”

“You’re right. I have another purpose in joining you.” Tech admitted as he sat down on your other side.

“Which is?” You asked leadingly.

“Hunter asked me to. He’s worried about you.” He gave you a chance to speak but you offered nothing, so he carried on, “From what I hear, you’re having difficulty sleeping due to nightmares. They are based around your confinement on Tantiss?”

You cleared your throat to buy yourself some time before you answered, “Yeah.” You brought your knees to your chest.

“Can you tell me more? Whatever you’re comfortable sharing is fine.”

You breathed deeply and peered up at the starry night sky. “Well, you know about Christophsis.”

Tech nodded. That was something he’d been told about on the shuttle back.

“Tantiss… Tantiss was different. I took beatings but they were a treat compared to that fucking droid. Hemlock did a much better job of getting the most out of that damn serum. It got harder and harder to fight it. He knew exactly what buttons to push.”

“I’m afraid I had a helping hand in that.” Tech said sheepishly.

You placed your hand on his shoulder. “I don’t blame you, Tech. Not at all.” You reassured him earnestly.

“Regardless, his methods would’ve been that effective because I told him what would work.”

You patted his shoulder to indicate that you really didn’t hold any of that period against him before you removed it and placed it back across your bent legs. You surprisingly found that you kept wanting to talk so you carried on, “I’d never be able to ignore him, he’d always be able to get in my head so, instead, I’d would look for things to take me out of it.”

“A reasonable response.” Tech agreed. The times when he’d resisted, he’d acted similarly.

You felt irritation rise in you. You’d been weak, how could he not see that? “He told me you were alive, and I used it as a way to keep pushing back against him. Omega didn’t doubt it and she only heard him say it once.”

Hunter had warned him about this before he’d left. He expected you to say things designed to make him reprimand you instead of sympathising with you. The part of ‘no emotion’ element of the Jedi Code was deeply engrained in you. Despite your affinity for handling attachment and genuine love for them, when it came to your own emotions, you had gotten a bit too good at supressing or dismissing them. “Years fighting in a war has a way of creating a certain cynicism- or realism- depending on your point of view. It helps with survival and enduring each battle. I may have gotten out of it but even I have to admit that the odds were slim. I called out the plan. I knew what I was doing, I didn’t expect to live, and I didn’t expect you all to assume that I had.” Tech easily explained away the argument. “I’m grateful for Omega’s optimism and hope- it is a wonderful quality of hers and it got me out of there and brought me back to you all-, but I never expected you to believe I lived.”

You couldn’t accept the fact that the people around you were okay with how you’d acted. Every night was a painful reminder of how you’d failed them. “What I don’t understand is why Tantiss is still affecting me in this way. I got over Christophsis just fine.”

“No, you didn’t process Christophsis. You were thrown into mission after mission and were left with no choice but to keep going. It is highly plausible that Hemlock’s own similar torture was harder to get through because it was a reminder of a traumatic time that you’d already experienced but not healed from. Plus, I don’t believe feeling the effects of torture has a time requirement.”

You sighed heavily, “You’re the second person to tell me all that.”

“Does that not tell you something?” Tech prodded but he did it gently.

“I guess.” You said through a weary sigh as you ran your hands through the sand to distract yourself. “I handed myself over to Hemlock though. I gave up.”

“The guilt you’re experiencing over agreeing to Hemlock’s terms is natural. You-”

“It wasn’t guilt. Not wholly.” You said, your voice so quiet it barely registered over the rhythmic lull of the waves.

Tech glanced at you in surprise, but you were keeping your head down, stroking Batcher’s snout- the dog seemed to sense your distress and had nuzzled closer to you. He allowed the silence to grow as he patiently awaited further explanation from you.  

You swallowed thickly as you went to speak again. “I was relieved.” You admitted, it was the first time you’d ever said the words out loud, and you instantly wished you could take them back. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you awaited the disappointed and shameful remarks from Tech.

“What were you relieved about?” Tech asked calmly.

That hadn’t been the response you were expecting. “Um-” You searched for the words to answer him. “When I was-” You broke off and started again and you found yourself being more honest than you’d anticipated. “When I was in that training room watching Hunter be tortured and I heard Hemlock say that he was going to do the same conditioning to Crosshair again and to Wrecker too… I gave him what he wanted. Throughout my time there, he wanted me to join him and that’s what I was prepared to do. But as I said it, there was a sense of relief. Finally, I could stop fighting him. The torture he put me through would end. And in the dream- nightmare- I keep having, as much as I hate what’s happening, part of why I can’t move to help any of you is because I’m just relived it isn’t me.” You visibly tensed as you finished speaking. Saying that last part out loud caused you physical pain and your stomach churned nervously as you waited for judgement. There had been a reason you couldn’t share this with Hunter. It sounded so selfish, so pathetic.

“I understand that.”

You angled your head to face him. It was your turn to wait for him to talk.

Tech took a grounding breath before he elaborated, “In my time imprisoned there, Hemlock wanted to know all he could about you all. He knew there would be a time where he’d have to face you all again. I didn’t quite experience the same beatings you took; it was always psychological. But whenever I showed willing to give him information, all I felt in that moment was a profound relief that the torment and pain would end. Granted, that swiftly became guilt as soon as he left but I couldn’t deny the respite those few minutes of me telling him about you all gave me. Now, did you only feel relief at it being over? Or was it relief that you could join him and do his bidding?”

You thought back to that time and realised what he was getting at. “No, it was because I knew if I gave him what he wanted, then at least they wouldn’t have to go through any more agony. At the time, imprisonment felt like the better option than becoming one of his operatives and experiencing that level of hurt.”

“Precisely. Your sleep is being haunted by the worst outcome. It’s praying on the flash of relief you felt and twisting it into something more than what it was. If you accept what happened and stop fighting it, it loses its power. You didn’t do anything wrong, you acted how you needed to. The only person that has the power to blame you is yourself. No one here does, sometimes it just helps to hear it out loud once in a while and it’s true. You resisted him for as long as you physically could. Those circumstances would’ve cracked anyone.”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “Is that how you did it?” You asked quietly.

“Well, I didn’t. Not always.” Tech reminded you, assuming you were referring to how he resisted Hemlock’s torment.

“No.” You released another deep sigh. “You seem to have settled here. You’re coping with it, and you were there for a long time.”

“I was in hell on Tantiss but not so much anymore. Being reunited with you all has really helped. Though I think if I had to watch any of them get hurt the way you had to, it would be different.” As he spoke, Tech realised why Hunter had come to him for this. He was sharing this part of him with you because he knew you were the only one that would truly get it. There was no worry of judgement, no worries of saying something too jarring. You would understand him just as he understood you. “I’ve accepted what happened to me and how I reacted to it but you’re the only one that knows those particular details of my experience. Phee and my brothers do not. Family helps with some of the burden but until you’ve had the unfortunate time of living it, their support can only do so much. We need each other it would seem.” Tech said with a kind look in your direction.

You widened your eyes at his openness. You were incredibly touched by that, and you didn’t take the lightly. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You asked a question, I merely answered.”

You shot him a look, “That’s not the only thing I’m thanking you for.” After speaking to him and fully unburdening yourself to someone who could only understand where you were coming from without the worry of saying the wrong thing or being too much, you felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. You weren’t plagued by all the horrible and conflicting feelings that had followed you since Tantiss. You could breathe. You were free. You gently squeezed his hand as you said, “Thank you for what you’ve done tonight. For all of it.”

Tech shrugged off the thanks but smiled at you all the same. “We’re family, it’s what we do.”

--

You walked through the door to your home and took your shoes off.

Hunter walked out of the bedroom as he heard you come through the door. “Hey, how was your walk?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you just drank him in. You took in the way he leaned against the doorway, the book he was reading dangling from his hand. The way the soft linens of his sleep clothes framed his body. The way he’d still kept and worn the necklace you’d given him all that time ago. And the way he was looking at you with such deep care and affection, it made your heart clench and emotions clog up in your throat- you didn’t trust yourself to speak.

Hunter took your silence for upset. “I had to tell him. I thought-” But he didn’t get to finish his sentence as you strode towards him and embraced him.

You hugged him tightly. “Thank you.” You whispered.

Dropping his book and wrapping his arms around you instantly, Hunter rested his cheek on top of your head. He didn’t need or expect you to share the details of the conversation with Tech, he’d realised that you needed a different kind of comfort and that was okay. All that mattered to him was that it helped you.

You let the warmth of his soothing hold flow through your body, and you kept your voice hushed as you said, “I want you to know that it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you it all.”

“I know.” Hunter replied softly as he caringly caressed your back. He would not break away until you wanted to.

You pressed your face into the crook of his shoulder. Even though he had sent Tech your way, you didn’t want him to feel like he’d let you down or anything along that vein. “You did everything right. I needed you there… I still need you there. I can’t get through it without you but…” The words to describe just what it was Tech gifted you got lost and you frantically searched for them so he would know why you hadn’t just come to him with it.

The last thing Hunter needed or wanted was you feeling like you had to reassure him on the issue. “Sweetheart, all I wanted was for this to get easier for you. I know that there are emotions and parts of that experience on Tantiss that I will never fully understand- as much as that kills me, I wish none of it had happened to you or Tech in the first place but that doesn’t change the fact that it did. You needed more than a shoulder to lean on, and if Tech gave you that, then that’s all that matters to me. I won’t stop being there, whatever it is you need, I’m here.”

The wave of emotion came rushing back and tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you found yourself pressing yourself tighter to him still so there were absolutely no gaps between you. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“I love you, giving up is never an option.” Hunter murmured as he kissed the crown of your head.

“I love you too.” You croaked as you fought through the lump in your throat.

You stayed like that for a couple more minutes before you finally pulled away.

Hunter wiped away a few stray tears that had escaped your eyes. “Fancy an early night?”

“Yeah.” You said through a deep exhale as the exhaustion you’d been fighting with came crashing into you. “That sounds good.”

--

3 weeks later.

“How’s your pain? Anymore headaches?” You asked Hunter as the two of you wandered arm in arm through the main square. You had been keeping a watchful eye in the time that had passed but he hadn’t had any bad episodes of late.

“Everything feels back to normal.” Hunter replied. “And you? How are you sleeping these days?” From what he could tell, you were sleeping through the night but that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t still there.

“No nightmares at all.” You said with a relieved sigh. The weight of what you’d endured was no longer keeping you down. It had no control over you anymore. You’d thrown yourself back into mediating again and that also seemed to help a lot.

You both walked in easy silence, smiling at the clones from Tantiss who had stayed and at the merchants shouting out enticing deals and offerings from their stalls as you passed by.  

“Although, there’s one thing I need…”

You glanced at him expectantly.

“Can you try it now? I should be fine.”

You hadn’t done it since settling down here in case it was too much. “You’re sure?” You double checked.

Hunter nodded. It was the final step to the normality that he craved.

You both paused and headed over to the side walkway of the colonnade that offered shelter from the open area. You reached out into his familiar Force signature, the connection you formed with it giving you an extra sense of security and warmth. How does this feel?

Hunter closed his eyes and breathed out a serene sigh as he heard your voice in his head, but it felt like everything finally clicked back into place. Then, he felt the gentle press of your lips against his. He reacted automatically and placed his hands on your waist as he returned the embrace.

“What was that for?” He whispered against your lips as you parted.

“It’s part of the check up process.” You murmured before you took half a step back to look at him properly, but you kept your arms looped around his neck so that he was still close to you.

Hunter gave you a fond smile. “Ah, of course.” He sweetly stroked his thumb along your jawline.

You shut your eyes and leaned into his touch.

“Are you happy?” Hunter asked after a few beats of silence.

You dropped your arms and looked at him in surprise. “Yes, of course I am!” You looked at him, worry furrowing across your brow. “What brought that on?”

Hunter awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. “I know things haven’t been easy since we arrived here. It didn’t get off to the peaceful start that I’d hoped for. I just want to make sure it’s still what you want and that you’re definitely feeling better.”

You were caught off guard by the emotions that caught in your throat. What did you do to deserve such a man? “I am very content and happy here; Hunter.” You took a hold of each of his hands. “I’m very content and happy being here with you.” You let out a faint, slightly embarrassed laugh, “I am very much in love with you, you silly man. Every day that I wake up beside you, every day that I get to come home to you and every day I just get to be around you is a day that reminds me that how lucky I am.” You removed your hands and lightly followed the lines of his face tattoo. “Are you happy?”

“Completely.” Hunter murmured as his eyes fluttered shut as he fell completely complaint under your touch.

“Good. Settling down here is what exactly what I want, things just weren’t settling down as quickly as I would’ve liked but it’s different now. We’re both doing much better, it’s a good thing.” You kissed his cheek and delicately brushed your fingers through the shorter strands of hair at the front of his head. I love you, that’s never changed, and it never will. Does that about cover everything?

“Almost.” Hunter said huskily as his own love for you overcame him.

Before you could question what he meant, he tugged you in tight to him and kissed you passionately. You felt him cradle the hinge of your jaw, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you granted him access without a second thought. You tangled your fingers in his hair and pressed yourself close to him. You allowed yourself a few minutes to just get lost in the pleasure he was giving you, but you remembered where you were and with a groan, you withdrew from his embrace.

It hurt you to pull away and from the way Hunter just insistently pushed you back against the stone column and carried on kissing and raking his teeth along your neck, he wasn’t impressed with stopping either. “We- we came here for groceries.” You hummed distractedly as you found yourself titling your head to give him easier access.

“So, we’ll get them tomorrow.” Hunter responded simply as he kissed behind your ear and brushed his fingers under your shirt and along the soft skin of your stomach.

“We have- have no f- food and-” You attempted to protest but now his mouth was doing wonderful things along your pulse point that was making you feel very lightheaded.

“That’s fine. What I’m in the mood for, only you can give me.” Hunter teasingly dipped his fingers just under the waistband of your leggings.

You forced yourself to get a grip before you were too far gone. “Get off.” You playfully shoved at his chest with an exasperated shake of your head.

Hunter inclined his head in surrender, “How about you shop, and I meet you at home?” He offered as he stopped his teasing and removed himself from you.

“Is this your bizarre way of just wanting to get out of a chore?” You joked, crossing your arms and feigning irritation.

“No, I just think that if I stay, we’re going to wind up getting done for public indecency and it would be entirely my fault.”

Despite his admission, you still saw a faint but lustful glint in his eyes and you knew he was envisioning precisely what would happen if the two of you remained by this column. And you knew both of you would decide it was worth the risk. You gulped as you hastily said before you lost control of yourself, “I’ll see you at home.”

Hunter released a low chuckle before he kissed you softly once more, the promise of what was to come still lingered behind the action despite his best attempts to keep it brief.

You took a few hesitant steps away him and then gathered yourself and went about your task- your walk brisker than before.

--

Hunter watched you before he moved out from the shelter of the pillar. He spotted Omega sitting with Lyana by the Maya tree. He called over to her.

“What’s up?” Omega asked breezily as she jogged over to him.

“Can you round up the boys and meet me at home? I’ll get Echo on comms.”

“How come?” Omega asked curiously.

“There’s a mission I’m gonna need all your help with. But it needs to just be the five of us.” He indicated to where you were making a purchase. “Think you can get Lyana to delay her return?”

“A mission? Then why can’t-” An excited gasp left her as she saw the silent but confirming look that Hunter gave her. They’d all been eagerly waiting for this. “Yes! I’m on it!” She sprinted off back to Lyana, chaotically relaying the instructions before she ran go find the others.

Hunter laughed to himself as he saw her enthusiastic departure before he hustled off back home and readied the comm channel for Echo. It didn’t take long for the clone to answer.

“You better be calling for the reason I hope you’re calling for.” Echo said by way of greeting.

“Think you can help me out?” Hunter replied with a validatory nod at the holoimage of Echo and he saw the way Echo’s shoulders lifted as he realised it was finally going to happen. Hunter had talked to them all about it in the days after arriving on Pabu and it had been met with an enthusiastic yet somehow still teasing response. It reminded him of how he felt back before the two of you officially got together, with the others just waiting for it to happen. He’d wanted to do it sooner, but your circumstances changed, and so he wanted to wait until both of you were recovered. And, whilst they’d all accepted his decision to hold off, they had been impatient for this day for both genuine well-being purposes but also because they wanted it for the two of you- his family were very supportive and insistent on him doing this. With things faring better, he felt comfortable doing it now. “I don’t want to take you away from anything urgent or-”

“Name it!” Echo said with a pleased smile.

Before he could get into what he needed Echo to do, he heard the door open. Hunter half-turned to see the crowd of eager and motivated faces made up of Omega and his brothers.  

All of them gathered round him and Echo’s hologram.

Hunter took a deep inhale and exhale. In a strange way, this was going to be one of the most important yet daunting missions he’d undertaken. “Alright, we don’t have long before she gets home. Here’s what I need…”

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @notgonnaedit, @arctrooper69, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @allthingsimagines , @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia @justsomerandompersonintheworld

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