#musical sniper gone

[thatrandomblogging]

Scout is sowwyy

[justaparsec94]

Reunion

Summary: After being sidelined for weeks by an injury in the field you're finally reunited with your favourite snarky sniper and the rest of your squad.

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader

Word Count: 7,246

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors be gone, Explicit

Author's Note: I wrote this as second part to my one shot "Sniper" but I think it stands well enough on it's own if you haven't read that one!

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Walking into 79’s was like walking into a wall of sound and heat. It was visceral and made you pause on the threshold, shucking off the jacket you had been wearing to keep the cool night air at bay. You definitely weren’t going to need it as a sudden clamminess, the byproduct of all of the bodies in the place, latched onto your skin.

It was more crowded than you could ever remember it being on any of your previous visits. Though considering you had watched the 501st and 212th arrive on Coruscant earlier you really shouldn’t have been that surprised at the crowded nature of the bar. A quick look around at all the white, blue, and gold armour in the place confirmed that thought.

You slowly began making your way through the throngs of people. The very first time you had come to the bar you had been surprised by the number of non-clones that seemed to frequent the place, and as time went on that number only seemed to grow. You supposed it was a good place to get cheap drinks and meet handsome men. Kriff, that was the reason you were there after all, except you were looking for 4 very specific handsome men, as usual. A quick sweep of the place didn’t reveal any signs of the distinctive squad which likely meant they hadn’t arrived yet. Generally, when The Bad Batch arrived somewhere, everyone knew about it. They didn’t really blend in, no matter how hard they tried to.

You paused as you finished your lap of the bar, fishing your comm out as you tried your best to move away from a particularly loud group of clones.

“Hunter!?” You called into your comm over the chaotic noise surrounding you. You pressed your comm up to your ear and covered the other to try and drown out the thumping music, “Where are you guys?”

The sergeant’s response was barely audible over the noise of the bar, “ETA 10 minutes.”

You groaned, “Any chance you can hustle and cut that time down?”

“Negative,” Hunter responded with a hint of laughter in his voice, “Crosshair is in a mood.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t new. What was new was the fact that you were currently alone at the bar. Usually, when you attended you were with the Batch or with your friends but tonight had you flying solo. You sighed knowing that even over the noise Hunter would be able to hear you, “Alright, I’ll try and find a table.”

You disconnected your comm, tucking it back into the form-fitting bodice of your dress. You tugged once on the hem somewhat self-consciously before you started picking your way through the crowd. Your dress wasn’t even anything overly fancy, a simple black strapless body con dress that ended just above your knees. In fact, compared to a lot of the outfits currently in the place it was quite tame but it was very different from the scrubs and clogs you usually rolled up to the bar in, and that made you fidget. But as you had been getting ready that night you had thought a special occasion called for a special outfit. And you may or may not have been thinking of a particular silver-haired clone when you had pulled the dress from your closet, but no one needed to know that.

A night out at 79’s with the Bad Batch was rare for several reasons. One: because they were stationed on Kamino and were rarely called to Coruscant and, two: because they often received temporary bans from the bar for inevitably ending up in fights every time they entered the place. But this trip in particular was special because you hadn’t seen your squad in ages. A horrible ankle injury on your last mission had left you sidelined for weeks. It had been a long and hard recovery after multiple surgeries. And even after all the rehab you’d had you still had only just managed to squeak out clearance to return to the field. You had missed your squad desperately during that time. They had checked up on you throughout your recovery, some of them more than once. Wrecker because he was kind and Tech because he was convinced you were not receiving proper medical treatment. But it just wasn’t the same as being with them nearly 24/7.

Even Crosshair had reached out to you, which you hadn’t really expected. He wasn’t the most sentimental type so when a message popped up from his frequency you had honestly been surprised. You might be harbouring the galaxy's largest crush on the snarky sniper but you were fairly certain your feelings were not returned. Though it truthfully was hard to tell considering his outwardly expressed emotional range was rather limited. You knew there was a lot more going on inside of him than he let people think but it was easy to miss if you didn’t look close enough.

A part of you had hoped that after your ordeal the two of you might have grown a little closer, it had been Crosshair after all who had tended to your injury before fully carrying you down a mountain. But the message you had received from him had been a typical Crosshair quip. Are you still alive?

You had been so high on pain medication that you couldn’t remember much about the incident but you did remember Crosshair. You remembered the concern on his face, not the exact words but the reassuring way he had spoken to you, the way he had held you, stayed with you, and comforted you on The Marauder. You knew you had said things to him but for the life of you couldn’t remember what. You just hoped it hadn’t been anything too embarrassing or anything that might have jeopardized the tenuous friendship you seemed to have with him. You ached every time you thought of how surprisingly gentle his touch had been but it seemed that it had simply been the action of one teammate looking out for the other.

You put aside the thoughts of anything that may or may not be happening between you and Crosshair as you continued your journey around the bar looking for a place to sit. You stopped every once and a while to say hello to familiar clones and non-clones alike but still did your best to stay focused on your mission.

“Hey beautiful, do you need a seat?” A large, handsome Devronian male called out to you from a nearby table, halting you in place.

You felt your face flush slightly as he smiled at you, there was no denying he was handsome, and if you hadn’t been completely smitten with a certain emotionally constipated sharpshooter you might have even considered his offer but as it was you simply shook your head politely and continued on your search for a table.

Two laps around the place had you abandoning that mission, every booth was full already and you knew you weren’t about to convince anyone to give up their spot for you. That was a job for the Batch, they could clear a room like no one else, a skill that often came in handy on your nights out.

“Doc!” A familiar voice called suddenly. Your head whipped around towards the source, smiling brightly at the sight of Wrecker towering over everyone else in the bar, waving enthusiastically at you as he muscled his way through the crowd.

You met him halfway, laughing as he scooped you up into his arms, squeezing the air out of you with one of his signature hugs, “We missed ya Doc!”

“I’ve missed you too,” You replied once he had set you down and you had managed to catch your breath once more. Your heart was brimming with happiness at the sight of him, and the sight of his brothers as they pulled up alongside him.

“Good to see you Doc,” Hunter said with a small smile as he reached out to grasp your forearm gently.

Tech shouldered past his brother, cutting off the words you had been about to speak, “Yes, though this reunion is rather premature. Your medical records indicate you are still suffering from the injury to your ankle and would benefit from more time off to fully…”

“Good to see you too Tech,” You replied drily, cutting off his rambling speech. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that he had been accessing your medical records.

Hunter laughed as he clapped a hand on Tech’s shoulder, “What he means to say is that excited to see you too.”

“That is not-“ Tech protested as he looked between you and Hunter, “Not that I am not excited, I am, Doc is an integral part of our team…”

Whatever else Tech was saying was lost to the hum of 79’s as the one person you had been waiting to see the most finally stepped into view.

Crosshair looked the same as he always did, arms crossed over his chest, toothpick in his mouth as he shot a dry look at his brothers before his attention focused on you. Your heart kicked up a notch as you looked at him, you hadn’t realized just how much you had truly missed him until this moment.

The slow sweep of his gaze traveling over you felt like a physical touch, his eyes lingered over your chest, the curve of your waist, and hips for the barest hint of a moment before moving on. It made you feel molten inside.

He paused once he reached your feet, one eyebrow canting up minutely as he met your eyes once more, the barest hint of a smirk gracing his face.

“Sensible,” He snarked, his eyes flicking from your eyes down to your shoes. You had chosen a very comfortable pair of leather and cork sandals and while they were not the most stylish they were comfortable. And after nearly snapping your foot right off comfort was key.

You laughed, shaking your head in mock annoyance, “Oh stuff it Cross. I need the arch support!”

“Ok, Grandma,” He teased as your eyes tracked the toothpick in his mouth as it swapped from one side to the other. His dark eyes were shining with amusement, “Do we need to have you home to bed by a certain time too?”

“This is already past my bedtime so you should consider yourself lucky that I’m even here,” you teased right back, smiling brightly up at him.

He took a step towards you, crowding into your space. He was suddenly so close that you had to tilt your head up to maintain his gaze. You felt like a live wire in his proximity, your pulse raced in your veins. You felt his breath whisper against your skin as he spoke, his eyes sweeping over you once more, “Hmm, lucky me indeed.”

His dark eyes were swimming with something that made your heart pound against your ribs. If he kept looking at you like that you honestly felt like you might melt into a puddle of lovestruck goo on the floor.

“Are you two done?” Wrecker asked in his typical booming voice, causing the two of you to jump apart in surprise, “I want a drink!”

“Then go get one,” Crosshair snapped, glaring at his brother. He hadn’t moved away from you though, if anything he had only gotten closer as though to shield you from his brother and everyone else in the bar. You felt overheated as his hand gently brushed against the small of your back.

“I’ll have a Fuzzy Tauntaun,” You replied, tipping your head back to look at Wrecker. The rest of the Batch took your lead and gave Wrecker their drink orders, much to his disappointment.

“Awe man,” He grumbled, “I hate carrying drinks.”

“I will assist you,” Tech supplied, “The others can find us a table since Doc was unsuccessful.”

“It’s busy!” You protested as the two brothers headed off towards the bar, calling after them, “I tried my best!”

“You’re just not intimidating enough,” Crosshair said lowly, still closer than what was likely considered professional for two members of a squad, but you didn’t care. Having him this close to you was something right out of one of your fantasies.

You looked back up at him, a smile growing on your face, “Yeah, that’s your job.”

He let out a soft bark of laughter before he finally moved away from you. You frowned at his sudden absence but did your best to mask your disappointment. With a soft sigh, you followed after him and Hunter in their search for a table.

They were able to accomplish what you hadn’t in under five minutes, scaring a batch of shinies out of a table near the back wall of the bar. They preferred places where the lights and sounds of the dance floor weren’t so overwhelming and the shadows gave Hunter more of the anonymity he preferred and the perfect vantage point of everything going on that Crosshair liked.

“How have you been feeling, Doc?” Hunter asked as you slid into the booth after him. Crosshair slid in beside you, leaving very little space between the two of you as he settled. He casually leaned against the back of the booth, his arms spreading out along the back of the seat on either side of him, toothpick hanging out of his mouth like usual as his long legs stretched out beneath the table. He wasn’t technically touching you but it almost felt as if he was. You did your best to ignore the feeling of his long and lean body beside you as you looked over at Hunter who had settled himself in the curve of the booth leaving the other side open for Tech and Wrecker.

“Better. I can’t say that was the most fun I’ve ever had but it definitely could have been much worse,” at this proximity you didn’t miss the way Crosshair tensed slightly at your words but he relaxed once more before you could even so much as sneak a look at him.

“Well, we’re just glad to have you back,” Hunter replied with a nod, “Tech’s bedside manner really leaves something to be desired.”

You laughed at that but any further response you might have had was interrupted by Wrecker and Tech returning with your drinks in hand.

“Drinks!” Wrecker exclaimed happily as he set his handful of glasses down on the table, the contents sloshing about before he clambered into the booth.

Drink in hand you relaxed back against the booth as the boys began regaling you with everything you had missed while you had been away. You smiled and laughed as you listened to them, your heart warming in your chest. Being there with them it suddenly felt as if no time had passed at all. A sense of home washed over you as you sat with them. You had truly missed them so much.

Time easily slipped away as you all fell into your usual pattern of reminiscing and people-watching. There was always something entertaining going on at 79s, but thankfully it seemed the batch was intent on avoiding shenanigans tonight. The combination of alcohol and mild pain meds you were still on for your ankle made you feel pleasantly bubbly inside, laughter and smiles slipping from you easier than usual as you enjoyed the time with your squad. Though the presence of Crosshair at your side, leaning over every once and a while to whisper in your ear as he pointed out whatever ridiculous thing he had spotted going on in the bar, his hands casually brushing against you each time, might have also had something to do with the slight giddiness you were feeling.

As the night wore on Hunter had been tempted away from the table by a beautiful Twi’lek and Tech and Wrecker had gone to grab the third round of drinks for the night leaving just you and Crosshair left in the booth.

Suddenly feeling bold, likely the result of the two drinks you had had, you looked up at Crosshair, leaning into him just ever so slightly. Your voice came out huskier than you had intended when you spoke, “Did you miss me, Cross?”

He tilted his head to look down at you, one eyebrow raised. The same something as before was swimming in his eyes again making your pulse race. He didn’t say anything though, only made a soft humming noise before picking up his drink and taking another sip.

You frowned, a sudden wave of embarrassment rushing through you at your brazen question. He probably thought you were an idiot for asking such a thing. The relaxed feeling you had been feeling before was completely gone, your body tensing as you berated yourself internally.

Thankfully, Tech and Wrecker returning to the table gave you something else to focus on. You grabbed the drink placed in front of you, downing nearly half of it in a single go in an attempt to chase away the feelings that had suddenly rushed up inside of you. You could feel Crosshair’s eyes on the side of your face, but you steadily ignored his gaze, focusing on the story Tech was currently telling instead.

Crosshair suddenly leaned towards you, his mouth a breath away from your ear, “What’s-” he started but was cut off by the sound of a new voice at their table.

“Hey there handsome,” All four heads at the table shot up to look towards the source of a voice. A beautiful young Pantoran woman had appeared at Crosshair’s side, her gaze focused entirely on him, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You were no stranger to witnessing this type of thing, the boys were handsome and they garnered a lot of attention everywhere they went. It wasn’t even the first time you had watched Crosshair pick up company for the evening but suddenly the thought of being present for this was unbearable.

“Excuse me,” You said shortly, moving before the words were even fully out of your mouth. You heard Crosshair hiss as you accidentally kneed him as you climbed over him to escape the booth. You looked at the woman who was suddenly looking at you with interest, “You can have my spot if you want.”

And with that you fled from the table, beelining towards the opposite side of the bar where the washrooms were. Thankfully one of the few single occupant washrooms was open and you rushed into it, leaning back against the door with a sigh as you locked the door. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You weren’t sure why you were so upset. Well no, that wasn’t entirely true. You were upset because it seemed that what you had thought was just a silly crush on Crosshair had become something much deeper than that and having to potentially watch him leave with someone else was literally cleaving your heart in two. You shook your head as your eyes stung, trying to get rid of the emotions bubbling inside you with the motion.

“Get it together,” You whispered to yourself as you pushed yourself away from the door. The washroom was tiny, nothing more than a small box with a toilet and sink but you were thankful for the privacy as you turned on the sink, splashing your face with cool water. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment trying your best to school your features into something more neutral before you left the confines of the washroom.

A sudden knock on the door startled you and you turned off the sink, “Just a minute!” You called as you grabbed a towel to dry off your hands.

You gave your head one more shake and took another deep breath before you pulled open the door only to be met with a completely unexpected sight.

“Crosshair what-?” You started but weren’t able to get anything else out before he crowded into you, pushing you back into the bathroom and closing the door quickly behind him. The sound of the door locking behind him echoed around the room.

“What are you doing?” Your voice came out as a squeak as you looked up at Crosshair with wide eyes.

“You’re upset.” He stated matter of factly, his gaze was dark as it racked over you. You had always felt that Crosshair had a way of just knowing what you were thinking and feeling and this time was no different. Sometimes it annoyed you how observant he was.

You shook your head, not willing to admit the truth, “No I’m not. I think I’ve just had too much to drink. Pain meds and alcohol don’t really mix…”

“Stop lying,” Crosshair hissed, pressing in even closer to you. You hadn’t even realized you had backed up until your back hit the sink counter behind you. He had you cornered, with nowhere else to go. You knew that Crosshair would never hurt you, if you told him to back off he would in an instant. But you realized with a flush it wasn’t fear that was suddenly pooling in your stomach, it was desire.

“I’m not…” You replied but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

Crosshair’s sharp eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything. His eyes dipped down towards your lips momentarily before they met your gaze once more. That same look of something that had been pooling in his eyes all evening was back.

His voice ghosted across your skin, sending a shiver through your body as he spoke, “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?” You asked the heat pooling in you was growing by the moment. He was so close and you wanted nothing more than to pull him closer. The intensity of his gaze was almost unbearable.

“What you said to me that day, what I said to you,” His voice was barely above a rumble in his chest. Suddenly it clicked, he was talking about the day you had been injured.

“Cross, I don’t…” You started, shaking your head as your pulse raced beneath your skin. You had tried desperately to remember that day but the pain meds had made everything fuzzy.

“Hm,” He mused as he closed the final gap between you, the entire long length of him pressed up against your front. Your body felt as if was on fire at his proximity. He moved his hands to rest on the counter on either side of you, fully caging you in as his head dipped down towards your face. His voice was a purr as he spoke once more, “I can remind you if you want.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, you didn’t know where this was going but you desperately wanted to find out.

“You told me that I was your favourite,” He whispered as his hand came up to cup your jaw. A smirk bloomed on his face that made your heart pound even faster, “You told me I was sexy."

You felt your face flush slightly in embarrassment and a laugh escaped you before you could stop it, “How cringe of me,” You said before you bit your lip shyly, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, “It is true though.”

Crosshair chuckled lowly as his hand slid down your neck, his thumb settled against your pulse point making you gasp softly at the touch. The two of you simply stared at one another for a long moment. You couldn’t quite believe that after months of longing, he was finally touching you. All of the nights you had spent imagining this very scenario didn’t even come close to the real thing.

Emboldened by his touch you tipped your head up, your noses nearly brushing together as you looked at him, “And what did you say to me?” You asked softly.

He moved impossibly closer, his knee parting your legs as his other hand moved to trace the curves of your body. Desire was throbbing through you with each touch.

“I said I would always stay with you,” He rumbled, “I meant it.”

You felt as though you were going to burst, every nerve ending lit up, oversensitive with every touch of his hand. You were completely lost beneath the weight of his words and his gaze. You had never felt a desire like this before.

His head tipped forward once more, his cheek grazing against your own, “Let me show you just how much I missed you, Sunshine,” He whispered, nipping lightly at your earlobe and sending shudders down your spine.

“Please, Cross,” You managed to squeak out. Your voice sounded desperate and needy but you found that you couldn’t care less as he pulled back slightly and his hand returned to your face once more. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, his gaze was liquid fire as it traced the lines of your face.

He was kissing you then and everything else around you faded away into nothing. There was only him. There had always only been him.

You were unable to stifle the soft groan that escaped you as his lips captured your own. He gently nipped at your lower lip before his tongue soothed over the spot. He only stayed there for a moment before his tongue was pressing through, tangling with your own. It was needy and demanding and everything you had ever dreamed of.

You separated with a breathy moan, your eyes still closed, head tipped back as he moved his mouth down the line of your neck. Kissing, licking, and nipping a trail down to your collarbone. Fire was racing up your spine as he ravished your skin. It was all at once too much and not enough.

“Crosshair,” You murmured as your hand reached up to his head, your fingers scraping through his short silver hair. You didn’t miss the way he shuddered at your touch. It filled you with a sense of power, to know he was just as affected by your touch as you were by his.

He placed one final kiss on your neck, sucking on your skin in a way you knew would leave a mark before he was moving again. His hands slid to the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter behind you with ease. You let out the tiniest squeak at the movement before he was settling in between your thighs. You could feel the way his codpiece was bulging against your core and you were desperate for more friction. You wrapped your legs around behind him, pulling him closer until there wasn’t any space left between you.

“This dress is dangerous, mesh'la,” He whispered as his hands once again trailed down your curves, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake, “Didn't you see how everyone was watching you? Most beautiful girl in the room.”

You moaned as he palmed your breast overtop of your dress, your breath coming out in ragged pants as you met his gaze, "I wore it just for you.”

He made a deep sound in his throat before he kissed you again, more urgent than before as your own hands bit into his shoulders. He didn’t stay there long though, your eyes widened as you watched him kneel on the ground in front of you. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he hooked his hands behind your knees, pulling you right to the edge of the counter.

“Crosshair,” You whispered again as his hands caressed your thighs, slowly making their way up and under the edge of your dress. He looked up at you, a smirk on his face, his dark eyes burning as his long, delicate fingers hooked around the edges of your panties. In one smooth motion, he had them off of you and in his hands. The look on his face was completely wicked as he stuffed them into one of the pouches on his utility belt.

“Cross,” You protested with a huff, that was one of your best pairs.

“What?” He asked before he bent his head to nip at the soft skin on the inside of your thigh, effectively rendering you speechless. His breath sent another shiver through you as he spoke again, “I want a souvenir.”

Any further reply you might have had was cut off as he reached up to hook one of your legs over his shoulder. The soft flesh of your thigh brushed against the sniper mount on his shoulder bell and you knew you were never going to be able to look at that thing the same way again. He kissed his way up the inside of your thigh, his mouth sending sparks up your spine. You were absolutely aching for him and you flushed slightly at the thought of him being able to see just how wet and ready you were for him.

You saw stars as his mouth pressed suddenly to your cunt, vision blackening around the edges as you were nearly overcome by the wave of sensation rushing through you. Tongue stroking your folds slowly, tortuously. You gasped, your white knuckle hold on the counter increasing as his tongue circled your clit, his hands biting into the flesh of your thighs as he pressed his face into you even further. You let out a soft cry, your head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as his tongue breached your entrance. He groaned against you, his hold on you tightening even more, the sensation of it sending waves of pleasure through you. You were hurtling towards a release, all of the tension coiling in your belly as your chest heaved.

You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands had moved, so caught up as you were in the feelings of his mouth on you, that you let out a soft yelp as two of his fingers pressed suddenly against your core. He moved his mouth back to your clit, tongue circling it as he pushed his fingers inside of you. You let out a string of curses, your walls clenching around his fingers as they crooked and found that spot inside of you that had you turning into a whimpering mess as he massaged it. You were so achingly close, months of longing suddenly coming to a boiling point as your body completely melted beneath his touch.

“Cross..” You whimpered as his tongue pressed hard against your clit, his fingers finding a smooth rhythm.

He pulled away just slightly, his thumb replacing his tongue on your clit as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

You felt his voice against your skin more than you actually heard it, “Be a good girl. Cum for me.”

That’s all it took for the band inside of you to finally snap. You came with a shout, thighs squeezing around his head as you rode out the waves of your pleasure. It was better than anything you could have ever imagined. Your orgasm burned through you and every coherent thought left you as you drowned in the sensations coursing through your body.

You didn't even have a moment to catch your breath before he was moving again, the sound of armour clattering to the floor filled the room. You managed to focus your gaze on him once more, still flushed and overheated but your desire raged through you once more at the sight of him. He had removed his codpiece and you could see the outline of him straining against his blacks. You reached out for him, pulling him towards you again in a single motion with one hand while the other found the waistband of his blacks. He was hot and heavy against your hand as you finally freed him, his erection flushing prettily against his stomach as you stroked him once, twice. He let out a low growl in his throat, his entire body was taut, as though he was about to explode at any moment. Even as wound up as he was he still moved with the same lethal grace he always did, a snake waiting to strike. Before you could even comprehend it he had closed the distance between you. Your legs moved to wrap around him instinctually and you let out a soft cry at the feeling of the head of his cock pushing against your entrance.

“Stars, Cross,” You groaned as your hands clutched at his shoulders, your legs pinning his hips to you as he rubbed his erection through your soaking folds, “I want you so badly.”

He didn't require any further encouragement, the look on his face was completely ravenous as he entered you with a smooth thrust, stretching you and filling you so completely in a way you never had been before. You were completely unmoored, a whimpering mess in his arms as he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. Your gaze was hazy with desire as you met his own. He was all angles and sharp lines, brow furrowed in concentration but there was something soft lurking in his dark eyes that did more to you than anything else that night had. He kissed you then, swallowing your moan as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you.

You thought for a moment that you must have died, that it was all just a dream as his mouth moved down to your neck once more sucking on your skin as his hips picked up the pace. You could feel the bite of his armour against your skin with each thrust but if anything it only made you burn more. The pleasure was building inside you rapidly once more as he pulled himself almost all the way out before thrusting back into you roughly, the tip of his cock hitting you in that perfect place each time.

“Oh gods, Crosshair,” You panted as his pace increased, his hips rubbing against your clit deliciously with each thrust. His hand came up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back just slightly to give him better access to your throat as he sucked against your skin. You knew you were going to be covered in marks later but you couldn't find it in yourself to care as the heat in your body continued to build.

Suddenly he let go of you completely, pulling all the way out of you. You whimpered at the loss but before you could even comprehend what was happening he reached out and pulled you down from the counter, spinning you around to face the sink, his back pressed up against you. One hand was on your hip, holding you close, while the other slunk up between your breasts to rest at the base of your throat. In one smooth motion, he thrust back into you causing you to cry out at the feeling of being filled once more.

It was almost too much, at this angle, he was filling you so completely, hitting that spot deep inside you with each thrust. Your head tipped forward as you were overcome with the feeling of him, just trying to focus on meeting his thrusts as you rapidly approached another high. The hand that was on your hip was suddenly moving, pulling the hem of your dress up even higher.

“Look at me,” He hissed in your ear and you were unable to ignore his order. Your gaze met his in the mirror over the sink and if you had thought it was too much before it was nothing compared to this. The sight of the two of you flushed, joined together as you both chased your highs. It was beautiful and almost enough to have you tipping over the edge once more as he continued to pound mercilessly into you.

“Look how good you take my cock,” Crosshair grunted, his eyes trailing down in the mirror. You followed his gaze to where you could see where the two of you were joined, could see the way he was thrusting in and out of you, filling you so completely, “Such a pretty little thing. Like you were made just for me.”

“Cross-“ You groaned, you were so close it was agony.

“You’re going to watch yourself cum on my cock,” He whispered, nipping at where your neck and shoulder met as his hand moved to your clit. You moaned, your eyes once again following his directions, unable to disobey a direct order. You couldn't look away from where he was pistoning in and out of you. It was lewd and so sexy that you feel like you might combust from the sight alone.

“Who else can make you feel like this? Make you feel as good as I can?” He hissed, mouth against your ear as he maintained his brutal pace.

“No one Cross,” You cried. Your eyes were burning, overwhelmed by the emotions and sensations rushing through you, "Only you.”

“That’s right. You’re mine,” He hummed, breath ghosting against the shell of your ear before he nipped your neck once more, “Only mine.”

His thumb circled your clit once, twice and that’s all it took for you to shatter completely for a second time. Crying out his name as you came on his cock. Your head tipped back against him, eyes finally shutting as you got swept away by the ecstasy of your release. You felt weightless, the sensation of your high overwhelming you completely as you sagged against him. His strong hands kept you upright, biting into your flesh enough for you to know for certain that there would be marks left in their place tomorrow.

He groaned as you squeezed around him, walls clenching and pulling him deeper into you with each wave of pleasure. His thrusts became erratic before he came with a grunt, holding himself as deep as he could as he spilled himself inside of you.

You were both motionless for a long moment, breathing ragged as you came down from your highs. You had literally never felt like this before in your life. You couldn't help but smile softly at the idea that he had ruined you forever, in the best way possible.

Once your breathing had finally evened out somewhat his hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close again, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and shoulders, his tongue soothing your flushed skin. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek before he pulled away, slipping out of you.

You turned, bracing yourself against the counter, flushing slightly at the feeling of his release running down the inside of your thighs. You moaned softly, tipping your head back to shake your sweaty hair out of your eyes. Your legs felt like jelly and you had no idea how you were going to make it out of the bathroom without wobbling.

You lifted a hand to run through your hair, trying to tame it into something that looked less like you’d just been ravaged, as you turned your attention back to the man in front of you. You watched as he quickly wiped himself off before tucking himself back into his blacks. His gaze met yours and the smirk on his face had fire licking in your belly once more. You chuckled softly, shaking your head as he stooped to grab his discarded codpiece, snapping it back into place with a practiced motion.

You were distracted by the thought of just how truly kriffed you were, both literally and figuratively, and missed him moving about the room. Suddenly he was kneeling before you, cloth in hand as he diligently cleaned between your thighs. His touch was achingly gentle and when he looked up at you from his position on the floor there was something completely new swimming in the depths of his eyes. A look so soft that it had your heart pounding in your chest for a completely different reason. Kriffed.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he stood, disposing of the towel before he tugged your dress back into place, delicate hands smoothing out the wrinkles as best as possible. His touch left goosebumps on your skin and you couldn't stop the shudder that ran through you.

His eyes were still soft as he raised a brow at you, “You good?” He asked as his hand slid around to the small of your back, pulling you into him once more.

“Mhmm” You nodded, “Great. Better than great actually.”

He smirked, amusement lighting up his eyes as he ducked his head to capture your lips with his own once more. Thankfully, he pulled away before you could get yourself too worked up again. You grumbled softly at the loss of contact but he didn’t go far, arms still caging you in as he looked down at you.

“I think it’s about time we get you home,” He purred, his eyes molten, “Considering it is past your bedtime after all.”

You laughed, pinching him in a gap between his armour teasingly before you sobered and looked up at him, “Alright, but I might need some help taking this dress off.”

His grin was almost feral before he leaned down to kiss you once more. His voice sent shivers down your spine as he pulled away, “I think I can manage that.”

He didn't give you another moment to respond before he laced his fingers in your own and started to pull you towards the door but you planted your feet, forcing him to turn back around to look at you.

His eyebrow was raised expectantly, eyes narrowed slightly as you spoke. Your heart was racing and you felt yourself flushing but you couldn’t let the moment pass without saying something.

“Crosshair, I really care about you. Like a lot,” it came out more awkward than you intended and you felt yourself flush further, “Just wanted to tell you when I’m not all doped up. Wanted to make sure you knew that you really are my favourite...”

He smirked but his eyes were swimming with emotion, his voice was rougher than you’d ever heard it before, “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”

You laughed, brimming with happiness at his words. You were beginning to think you still might end up as that lovestruck pile of goo on the floor before the night was over, “I think I can live with that.”

He chuckled softly before he pulled you out the door, back into the loud chaos of 79’s. Neither of you bothered saying goodnight to the rest of the boys on your way out. A part of you had a feeling they knew where you'd gone off to anyway. Crosshair tossed a smirk back at you over his shoulder as he pulled you through the crowd, the look in his eyes though was so soft and warm that it had your heart pounding in your chest. You’d been privy to this part of him a few times before but nothing quite like this and you were suddenly smiling at the thrill that ran up your spine at the thought. This was only just the beginning. You couldn’t help but think, as the cool night air brushed against your skin as you exited the bar, that it had been a perfect reunion indeed.

[pampanope]

~7-11 Lore~

Name: Efren Torres Aldrich

Alias: 7-11, Cerberus, Shadow Company’s Dog (Konni)

Affiliations: Shadow Company, USMC (former)

Age: 34 yo

DoB: May 7 1990

Height: 6’1

Nationality: American

Ethnicity: filipino/white

Born in: Queens, NY

Pronouns: He/him

Gender: cis man

Orientation: panromantic homosexual

Specialty/Résumé

• Former Marines Force Reconnaissance operator

• Deep reconnaissance with qualifications in parachuting and combat diving (MOS 0326)

• Profficiency as a sniper and rifleman, at intelligence collection, mountain warfare, CQB, and small squad tactics.

• Dutiful Shadow babysitter

• Graves whisperer (usually)

Personality

• calm, quiot, generally easy going; speaks in low even tones

• observant, pays attention to the goings on of those around him, and completes tasks efficiently.

• treats fellow Shadows with warmth, courtesy, and long-suffering exasperation. Takes some time before he feels comfortable enough to freely goof off with other people.

• Has a playful side; likes to harmlessly tease other Shadows to a certain degree but is all business when working or on an op

• sees all of Shadow Company as his family; their success and well-being are his top priorities.

• this devotion towards Graves and SC has a possessive slant to it; he’s willing to destroy anyone and anything that threatens his family

Physical Description

• lean, fit overall build

• dark brown hair and dark sleepy looking eyes

• mole beside left eye

• very light stubble

• scars on left arm (IED shrapnel), wrists (rope scars), around fingers (balisong flipping) and upper left side of torso (gunshot wound)

• Usually wears neutral dark colors, mask, tactical gloves, combat boots and baseball cap

Psychology

• the loss of his parents at a young age, years of instability, and military training have led to the creation of a mental coping mechanism that can be described as “a feral hind-brain creature” that views individuals as pack, predator, prey, those who need protection and those who need to be cut down.

• 7-11 understands it’s not normal to look at the world in such a way, nor is it normal to want to sink his teeth into the throats of his enemies or into the flesh of those he cares about, in the hopes that he leaves a mark that they’ll carry even after they’ve gone.

• he keeps this part of himself carefully contained within with the majority of Shadows non the wiser,

Love Language: Touch, Gift Giving

Prefers affection via: Touch, Quality time

_____________________

Strengths

• loyal

• diligent and efficient

• puts his subordinates before himself

• smooth operator on the field

• stays calm under pressure and in the face of unusual situations

• thoughtful and empathetic

• can fall asleep anywhere

Weaknesses

• can be stubborn

• tends to forgo personal safety and care if he thinks it’s necessary

• has abandonment issues

• guilt-ridden

• may be vengeful, especially so on behalf of someone else

Hobbies

• photography

• karaoke

• balisong flipping

• sparring

**• Graves**

Likes

• cuddles and head scritches

• SC gossip

• collecting large, huggable plushies

• napping in warm cozy places

• training Shadows (usually)

• getting ragdolled and tossed around like a salad

• displays of physical strength

• training or games that allow him to hunt down others (or be hunted)

Dislikes

• incompetent and callous leadership

• humidity

• the sun (this boi burrrns)

• watermelons (tastes like sugary wet sand)

• Shadows or Graves getting hurt

• being cornered

• Shepherd

• disorganization

Fears

• Losing everyone and everything

• not being enough

• substance abuse and addiction

Preference

Fave Color: Blue

Fave Season: Autumn

Fave Music: 80’s rock and power ballads, most of 90’s and 2000s

Fave Animals: Crows and cats

Fave Food: savory snacks, burgers, lumpia, kare kare

Favorite Plants: blue orchids and monstera

Coffee or tea: coffee (once a day)

Night or Day: Night

____________________

Idiosyncrasies & Random Stuff

~ named after his mother’s favorite billiards champion (Efren “Bata” Reyes)

~ He’s always had a blushing problem; doesn’t matter what emotion it is, if it’s strong enough, he gets flushed.

~ started out wearing a mask to hide the blushing and hide his expression; it’s fun keeping fellow Shadows guessing

~ likes to make up reasons why he wears the mask all the time

~ eventually realizes that he got so used to freely making silly expressions behind a mask that he can’t school his features without it anymore

~ which is fine, it became habit anyway; he enjoys any rumors among the Shadows about him and why he stays masked when others remove theirs outside of ops.

~ there are way too many benefits to wearing a mask for him to quit

~ Biting is a very valid tactic, on and off the battlefield; as an offensive move and form of affection (but he doesn’t bite out of affection as often as he’d like because he doesn’t wanna scare the other Shadows lol)

~ kinda short circuits a bit when handled roughly

~ Tore a man’s throat out with his teeth on Grave’s behalf; Graves **really** liked that and decided to give him the callsign Cerberus and collared him (it’s a pleasant grounding presence around his neck)

~ will start growling when stress levels are maxed out or if very sleep deprived

~ keeps a cork board of photos in his quarters; photos of Shadows past and present

~is banned from the kitchen(s), no, not just SC HQ or bases.

~ grabs ahold of anyone or anything that comes into contact with him while

sleeping; he’s like a bear trp that way

~ he’s seen the effects of substance abuse and addiction first hand; it’s why he limits alcohol intake, drinks one cup of coffee a day (hence the regularly scheduled naps), and avoids gambling and smoking

~ deeply misses his parents and his childhood; often wonders if they’d even recognize him as their son

- Voice claim: Isaac Clarke (VA: Gunner Wright) (Dead Space games)

______________________

Backstory

7-11/Efren is one of Graves’ most loyal Shadows and considers himself a vanguard of the Company.

After losing his parents at 13 to a vehicular accident (for which he blames himself for) and the subsequent abuse and neglect from his uncle, Efren spent most of his teenage years feeling untethered, numb yet seething with anger and guilt.

He spent his early years working part time jobs to make ends meet while getting into fist fights with the local gangs to release the deep seated fury within.

A final altercation with his uncle drove Efren to seek structure and a place to belong in the Marine Corps.

There, Efren, while excelling at every aspect soldiering, would often be easily goaded and provoked into brawling with other recruits of his cohort.

This led to his first meeting with Graves, a cocky, silver tongued, MARSOC operator in his mid twenties.

Graves issued a challenge to Efren, which ended with Efren being so thoroughly *humbled* that it altered his brain chemistry, quieting his feral hind brain to a dull roar for the first time in what felt like forever.

Fixated on Graves after that meeting, Efren joined Force Recon with the hope of providing crucial intel to support his fellow Marines (especially Graves).

He always kept an ear out for news of KIA personnel; thankfully Graves was never one of them.

After years of serving in Force Reconnaissance, Efren was faced with making a decision whether or not to re-up to continue his service or to move on into civilian life.

As if summoned, Graves appeared after so many years, and whisked Efren away to his new Shadow Company, where he world finally find a new home.

The irony of feeling at peace in a PMC was not lost on him.

Wherever Graves went, he would be his Shadow and support. For Efren, it was the least he could do after the man gave him everything.

((May add more as i go✨))

[vodika-vibes]

Can you please do Blue Daisy and Anemone for Crosshair with a Bounty Hunter Reader? I really love your stories, you're doing amazing!

For The Love Of A Sniper

Summary: You're a Bounty Hunter and Crosshair is your partner in every way. And when your family threatens you, Crosshair offers to deal with it.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1234

Warnings: Crosshair is soft

Prompts: Blue Daisy - Long Term Loyalty, Anemone - Undying Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted, I was going to make this a sequel to my recent Crosshair series, but I had a better idea!

When you were a little girl, your parents planned your life almost to the minute. You were ferried from school to dance lessons or music lessons or voice lessons or language lessons. Every second of free time had to be accounted for.

You didn’t have time for friends, and barely had time for family.

Your parents also planned your outfits, frilly dresses in pastel colors and your hair meticulously curled every morning, and then styled with bows and ribbons. And shoes that were so uncomfortable that, on more than one occasion, you considered cutting your toes off so it would hurt less.

Even your schools were devoted to making you the best daughter. High end boarding schools with even more high end finishing classes, with the end goal of sending you to Naboo to attend Theeds Law School.

Perfection was the expectation.

And you were never perfect.

The day that your parents dropped you off at Law School, you dropped out. You managed to get the school to send the refund, nearly 3 million credits total, to your personal bank account, and then you spent a massive chunk of money cutting and dying your hair, and then buying a new wardrobe. 

Within a week of your parents dropping you off on Naboo, you were gone.

That was four years ago. And over the last four years, you’ve made something of a name for yourself as a bounty hunter. You have your own ship, painted vibrant purple and named Spoiler, and you often bounce between cargo delivery and Bounty Hunting, based on what is the most profitable at the time.

Sometimes you do both at the same time, just for funsies.

And you know, because you’ve seen it, your name is plastered on missing persons lists and on bounty boards. Too bad that you don’t look anything like the cherub looking girl on the posters anymore. 

In fact, the only person who might recognize you as the girl in the poster is your boyfriend. And even then, only because you told him. 

Speaking of said boyfriend-

You hang your body armor on the rack in the cargo hold, and climb the stairs to the main part of the ship. You slide open the door to the bedroom, and grin at the man stretched out on the bed. “You ever planning on getting up, handsome?”

Crosshair seems to stretch out even more, and he tucks his arms under his head, his dark eyes locked on your face, “I thought I’d be lazy today,” He drawls, “You could join me.”

You lean against the doorframe, a small smile on your lips. He really is too handsome. Especially lounging in your bed wearing nothing but the dark sweatpants that you bought him. He looks healthy, finally, having put some weight on now that he’s no longer with the Empire.

“See something you like, doll?”

You grin at him, lazy and slow, “I see something that’s mine.” You tease.

Crosshair chuckles and shifts to free one arm, “Come here, princess.” He almost purrs. And, really, how are you expected to deny that request?

You kick your boots off and climb on the bed to drape yourself across his chest. You take a moment to press a light kiss just over his heart, before you slide up to tuck your head against his neck. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm, I did.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and presses a light kiss to the top of your head, “And then I got an alert-” He uses his free hand to grab the datapad on the side of the bed, “Someone put a flag on all accounts attached to your old name.”

“Another one?” You roll slightly so you’re able to see the screen, and then you sigh, “This is, what, number five? Six?”

“Eight in the last six months.” Crosshair corrects.

“Well, following the money is step one in the ‘how to find someone who doesn’t want to be found’ handbook, I suppose.” You mutter under your breath as you roll again and fold your arms on his chest.

“You would know, wouldn’t you, princess.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like those accounts are attached to my name anymore.” You reply as you look down at his face, “Which is a shame, there’s nearly 3 million credits in that account.”

Crosshair reaches up and slides his fingers across your cheek, “Those credits have so many strings attached, you might as well be a puppet.”

“Mm, don’t I know it.” You lean in and kiss him gently, “Luckily, they won’t find me. And 3 million credits is a lot less than I would pay to never be their perfect little doll ever again.”

His eyes glitter, “Even if they did, if you think I’m giving you up without a fight-”

A soft laugh falls from your lips, “Aww, I knew you loved me.”

His lips curl up into an amused smile, “You’re alright, I suppose.” In spite of his light, teasing, words his hand tightly clutches at your hip. 

You shift and press feather light kisses across his face, “I’m not going anywhere. Not willingly.” You whisper to him.

His grip loosens slightly, “Of course not. You’d never find anyone as good as I am.” His hand slithers up your side to grip the collar of your shirt between two strong fingers, and he pulls you down to crash your lips against his. “We do, however,” He murmurs after a moment, “have to deal with this.”

“Can’t we ignore it?” You whine.

“You know we can’t.” He finally moves his other arm from under his head, and he wraps it tightly around you, “Let me handle it.”

You nervously bite your lower lip, “I don’t know-”

“I’m not going to hand you in,” Crosshair murmurs, as gentle with your anxieties regarding your family as you are with his anxiety about you leaving, “My loyalty is to you. Now and forever.”

You sigh, “I know. I just don’t like you going off on your own.” You kiss him quickly, and then press a longer, slower, kiss against his lips, “I never wanted to demand your loyalty.”

“You never had to.” There’s something soft and vulnerable in his gaze, and you think you love him a little more for it, “You didn’t expect my loyalty like my brothers.” He kisses you just under your eyes, “And you never demanded it like the Empire.” He drags his lips across the bridge of your nose, “You were loyal to me, so I became loyal to you.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You say warmly.

He rolls his eyes, “Then how’s this? I love you. Forever. Until there’s no more breath in my lungs. Until my heart beats it last.”

You press your forehead against his, “You’re going to make me cry and mess up my make-up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll never say anything so gross ever again.” He jokes. “What do you say, Princess? Trust me to handle this?”

“Deal. You can handle it, and I’ll just…hang out in the ship for you.”

“Deal.” He pulls you back into a deep kiss, “Later though. For now you’re on top of me and won’t stop squirming-” You release a bubbly laugh as he flips the pair of you and pins you to the bed, “Really, you brought this on yourself, princess.”

[the-marshals-wife]

Angel Shot (John Wick x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Just a little something because I missed writing for John and watching all the movies again on winter break has got me feeling inspired. ♥

Description: John Wick x Fem!Reader, protective John fluff | Warnings: mild language, alcohol, suggestive themes, Y/N is harassed/threatened and John intervenes | Setting: before Helen (or AU without her, you decide) | Word count: 1,474

Gif credit: user johnswick

Imagine John coming to your defense when a former associate won't leave you alone

It had been a long week. All you wanted was a moment of peace and a cold drink. Normally, you had no trouble finding that at the bar within the New York Continental. On this night, however, you found yourself wishing you had gone elsewhere. No sooner had you taken the first sip of your cocktail did Rico Augustine spot you from across the room.

You keep your eyes fixed forward and pretend not to notice his approach on your right.

"Look who it is," he announces, mockery in his voice, "The rooftop sniper."

"Rico," you acknowledge placidly. You could already sense this interaction would not remain civil. A quick glance his direction allowed you to take notice of his haggard, unshaven face and wrinkled suit. Even in the subdued glow of the mood lighting, you could see the wildness in his bloodshot eyes as he clutched the edge of the bartop.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink," he starts, leaning in closer, "but considering I'm a little light of funds right now, maybe you should be the one getting me something, huh?"

The alcohol on his breath was strong enough to burn your nose. Apparently, he'd managed to evade both sleep and sobriety since you last spoke.

"I already have one," you say, gesturing with your glass, "And I'm not sure you need another."

"It really is the least you can do, after what you stole from me," he provoked, his disgust poorly veiled.

His proximity, paired with his odor and audacity, set a fire in your blood.

"Are we really going to go over this again?" you ask, turning toward him, "I didn't know you were there last night. I wouldn't have taken the shot if I had. I don't work like that."

"You know that's my territory. I followed that mark for two hours and you took him right out from underneath me. I needed that money," he seethes, drawing out his next words, "You owe me."

You pivot back to the bar, your temper flaring. "It was an open contract, Rico. Just because we worked together on the Morocco Exchange doesn't mean I owe you," you state, taking a swig before speaking once more, "I already gave you a 30% cut, from a profit you didn't earn in the first place. That means we're finished."

His hand flies up to grab your wrist, causing you to drop your drink. The glass rattles and liquid sloshes out as it hits the bartop, but it does not fall over. With the dull roar of music and conversation filling the room, the noise isn't enough to catch the distracted bartender's attention.

"What if I say we're not?" he asks, his voice growling in your ear, "What if we're only finished when I say we are?"

Before you can answer or go for the dagger concealed in your shirt sleeve, you feel the cold steel of a concealed blade begin to dig into your ribs.

"I tried being polite, but you just had to keep flapping those lips of yours."

"You don't want to do this," you warn through gritted teeth.

"Wrong again," he sneers, his gratified tone sending a shiver down your back, "Why don't we continue this conversation up in my room, hm?"

You try to make eye contact with the bartender, but his back is still turned toward you, occupied with a chatty patron. Only one option remained: be even less civil. You try to free your dagger slowly from its sheath on your forearm without Rico noticing. It starts to slide loose as he pulls you toward him with a sickening laugh. The hilt is almost in your palm when, in the mirror on the wall of liquor bottles, you catch a glimpse of someone approaching from behind. They come to stand at your left a few seconds before you hear a voice that brings immediate relief.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, John," you say.

"Nice night," he remarks.

"Sure is," you reply, glancing to him from the corner of your eye.

"Evening, Rico. Can I buy you a drink?" John asks.

"Thanks John, but Y/N and I are about tapped out for the night. Ain't that right?"

You attempt to turn your head towards John, but Rico pushes the blade harder into your side in response.

"Yeah," you say unconvincingly, wincing from the sting, "Thought about ordering an Angel Shot though."

There's a brief silence before John speaks again. "That so?"

"This doesn't concern you, Wick," Rico snarls, his fake cordiality gone in an instant, "Mind your business."

"Actually, you made it my business when you pulled that knife," John responds calmy, "Now, how about that drink? Or shall I make a dinner reservation instead?"

You feel the grip on your arm loosen a bit. Your assailant knew as well as you did what that meant. One of two things awaited him: a whiskey, or a body bag.

Despite the warning, Rico scoffs, looking past you to glare at John.

"Come on, Wick. You and I both know you don't have the balls to break hotel rules," he retorts, his thin lips curling into smirk.

John doesn't blink. "You willing to bet on that?"

You suppress the urge to smile as you watch the reflection of your harasser's face lose its gusto, along with most of the color.

"Last chance, Rico," John says, "Take your hands off her, and walk away."

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Rico narrows his gaze, but lets go of your arm. "Of course. Whatever you say, Baba Yaga," he jeers, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve.

You exhale, but the sweaty brute leans back in close to your face and hisses, "The Boogeyman won't always be there to save you. This isn't over."

Rico starts to walk past you, but John grabs his arm, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "I didn't catch that last part."

He clears his throat, avoiding John's piercing stare. "It was nothing."

"Uh-huh," he deadpans, "Didn't think so."

"What's the matter, Wick? We're all professionals here, aren't we?" he poses; more a begrudged plea for mercy than an inquiry.

"Some of us more than others, it would seem," John replies, proceeding to lower his voice, "If you threaten her again, you'll find out just how professional I can be."

Rico clenches his jaw, his eye twitching in rage. Even as he choked on his own venom, he knew he was beaten. He violently recoils as John releases his arm, straightening his jacket and running a trembling hand through his disheveled hair. You, John, and the rest of the room watch him retreat until he's completely out of sight.

Boogeyman or not, John had a way of drawing attention. The hush that had fallen over the room fades as customers return to their drinks and conversation, no doubt now discussing what sort of gruesome scene they were nearly witnesses to.

John finally turns to you. "Are you alright?"

You nod and smile a bit, "Thanks to you."

"I'm sure you had it handled."

"Yeah, but I wasn't looking forward to scrubbing his blood out of this fabric. You can never find this color, I'd hate to toss it," you chuckle, looking down at your shirt.

"We wouldn't want that," he says, amused.

You replace your tousled hair behind your ear and meet his softened gaze. "Thank you, John."

"You're welcome, Y/N," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket, "You look like you could use a refill."

He holds up an all-too-familiar gold coin, then places it on the bartop. "On me."

"That's two I owe you then," you counter, giving him a knowing look.

"No. You don't owe me anything," he states, kind but firm. The look he gives you in return makes you feel that you shouldn't argue.

"Fair enough," you say, watching the now attentive bartender top off your beverage, "But at least let me get you a bourbon."

John retrieves his phone from another pocket, reading the screen and stowing it back as fast as he'd produced it.

"Thank you, but I'll have to take a raincheck," John says, touching your shoulder before walking away. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

"You have business elsewhere tonight?" you question, calling after him.

"Yeah," he answers, pausing a moment, "But I won't be checking out for another day or so."

You smirk. "Be seeing you, then?"

He nods, the smallest trace of a smile on his face.

"Be seeing you."

He turns to leave, and your eyes follow him until the last. Drink back in hand, your heart continues its excited drumming. You press the cold crystal to your lips and grin. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad night after all.

"Give 'em hell, John."

[jellyfishoreo1206]

I'm unsure if I'll consistently write for TF2 but omg has this been rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken from Costco

MEDIC, SNIPER, ENGINEER EATING YOU OUT

NSFW MDNI

Includes: a smidge of consensual somnophilia, fingering, tonguing, overstimulation, mention period blood/blood consumption (?), breeding if you squint

S/O is afab with fem pronouns

MEDIC

We can all agree he is a FREAKKKKKK

Now lemme say this

HE LOVES WAKING YOU UP LIKE THIS

Like seriously

He could do this forever

The soft/breathy moans you let out whenever he goes down on you

And how your body responds to his actions??

Omg he could just stay there

Doesn't care if you lock your thighs around his head, that's what the respawn machine is for

Loves it especially if you're having a wet dream about him, gives him an excuse to eat you out

Will love it even more when you're on your period/ovulating

Just the taste and smell of your blood and arousal mixing on his tongue and how much more fertile you will be when your period/ovulating finishes

It drives him INSANE

Will literally groan into your pussy from the satisfaction of your taste

Maybe whimpers/begs if he's pussy drunk

"Mein liebe! I can't get enough of jou..pleaze let me taste more of jou.."

If he's REALLY pussy drunk, he'll start speaking in his native tongue

Likes to think he's just helping you with your cramps (in which case he is :3)

He leaves bite marks on your thighs, it's canon I don't make the rules

I feel as if his tongue is more wetter than most, maybe a little slimly

And on the semi-thicker side

Would use his fingers to watch you flutter around them as he presses kisses into your skin

Then pull several orgasms from you via mouth until the only thing you are screaming is his name

"Scheiße.." Ludwig whispers to himself as he drags his hands slowly up and down the plush inner thighs of yours, observing the scarred skin as a trail of goosebumps followed right after as a breathy moan left his lips. He originally came in to wake you up as it was nearly time for breakfast as knowing the others, the food will probably be gone in just a matter of minutes. But a certain smell hit his nose when he approached the bed, one that made a unmistakable shiver of excitement go through his body.

The smell of period blood.

It wouldn't have been the first time he has gone down on you while on your menstrual cycle even you were while sleeping, but everytime it always brings him as sense of extreme arousal whenever he gets a whiff of the metallic scent. He would never tire of the smell or taste of it, not even after having tasted it 1,000 times would he never tire.

His breath comes out heavier as he drags a finger from your hole to clit, voicing his pleasure as he sees just the amount of blood and arousal that gathered on his finger from one stroke alone. Something in him went feral as he saw how your hole seemed to flutter, begging for him as the slightly quiet moan of yours left your lips. With no hesitation, he dove into your folds, hungerly lapping up your arousal as he groaned, eyes closed as he savored the flavor of you on his tongue as he thrusts it into you at a semi-fast pace. He made sure to pay attention to your clit, bringing his fingers up to gently rub at it to add to your pleasure.

A buzz went through his body as he continues his actions, his free hand anchoring itself onto your thighs as they twitched. The world seemingly disappeared around him as he made out with your pussy, blood and arousal smearing onto the lower half of his face as he angled his tongue to reach the right places inside you. A stream of whimpers were leaving your mouth, an absolute musical to his ears as he drinks you, a mixture of saliva, blood, and arousal slowly drip down his chin and onto the pristine white of his collared shirt. The other mercs might notice it, if they're observant enough, but to hell with them.

It wasn't long until your insides clamped tightly around his tongue as a long moan left your plump lips, walls pulsing as gushes of your arousal cover the entirety of the lower half of his face as well as the top part of his shirt and vest. Pulling away was a struggle, moans leaving his mouth as he humped the bed, lapping up the rest of your arousal with a hunger, merely pulling away when your twitches increased. He was somewhat surprised when he made eye contact with sleepy eyes, observing how flushed your face was and the dripping sweat begining to form around your hairline as your lidded eyes observed him, chest heaving heavily as you attempted to catch your breath.

God you are going to be the death of him.

The stinging pain of his hair being pulled snapped him out of his trance, your hand fisted in his hair guiding him back down to where he was before previously. He lets out a low groan when he sees just the absolute mess that he left. He needed no words when you pulled him closer, his breath fanning your heat as he watched your folds flutter from anticipation.

"Meine Liebe, du machst mich absolut verrückt.."

ENGINEER

All I can say is

HE IS A TEASE

AN ABSOLUTE TEASE

Like, he will basically make out with your pussy

Full on french kissing it

And when you're about to come, just sooo close to that edge, he just pulls away

And he will MAKE you beg for him to let you come

But will then make you come over and over again, chuckling whenever you try to ask for him to slow down

Dw you guys use the stop light system

He's not Engineer w/o that gentleman in him

"What's the matter, darlin'? Thought you wanted this~"

The main reason he does this? To see you squirt

No joke, he thinks you become more attractive when you're squirting

His mouth is so warm

AND HE HAS A THICK AND ROUGH TONGUE

He knows how to use that thing

And he knows very damn well

Prideful bitch (I love him)

Will more than likely use the Gunslinger when going down on you too

Inserting those metallic fingers inside you as he slightly nibbles at your clit, enjoying those small yelps you let out

His fingers are pretty thick too

Always cleans up/showers so you don't have to worry about oil or smth like that

I've seen this around whenever reading anything smut related about Engie, but he adds a vibration setting to the Gunslinger

It just makes sense

He would absolutely love to bite around your thighs, placing his hands on your love handles to keep you from squirming away from his touch as he continues his teasing

Bc he's in the workshop most of the time, he'll sometimes forget to come to bed most of the time and that ends up with you pretty needy

So to make up for it he'll eat you out with a passion, going slow and taking his time to work you up to that point, dropping some praise here and there as he kisses bits of your skin as he licks at your core in long strokes

Or just eat you out while you're sleeping, it's a 50/50 with this man

Also doesn't care if you clamp your thighs around his head, do it however much you like cause his mama didn't raise no wimp

Gives so much praise

Like so much it's sickeningly sweet

If he's still in his work clothes, he'll put his helmet on your head before going down

"Keep tha' safe f'me, yeah?"

He's a cowboy and a gentleman through and through

Will sometimes go down on you in his workshop if he's desperate enough

Which has led to some unfortunate walk ins (poor pryo will never see you guys the same anymore)

"Fuck! Dell slow down!"

Despite your pleads, the engineer between your legs didn't bother to stop, seemingly just going faster, his tongue lapping at your pussy like a dog. The only indication you had that he heard you was the slight chuckle vibrating against your core, moans slipping past your lips as you felt yourself nearly tipping over the edge, the temperature of the room seemed to rapidly heat up the more that thick tongue of his teases itself inside of you.

God he's been going at it for so long. The insides of your thighs are literally dripping with your previous orgasms, thighs shaking as you attempted to keep them from clamping them around his head as he drinks up your arousal.

But right when you were just about to come, just right at the very very edge, he stops all movement. Whines and gasps left your mouth as you begged him to keep going, to not stop, all attempts futile as he was pulling away from your core with a sly smirk on his face, using his tongue to lick up the extra fluids that collected around his mouth.

"What's the matter? Isn't that what you wanted, Honeybee?" Oh you could just slap that smirk off his face if that throbbing desperation of yours wasn't bothering you so much.

"Fuck please don't stop! Please!" Desperate pleas fell from your lips as you begged for him to continue what he was doing, begging him to just keep going despite your earlier complaints. Though what you weren't expecting was the sudden intrusion of his thick finger, a pleasured yelp leaving your mouth. The mechanic pumps his finger at a deliciously fast pace, the semi-rough texture of it providing a sensation that has your eyes rolling back as it scrapes against all those good spots within you, fingers gripping at the bedsheets when it hits a particular spot within you.

"That's it, let yourself go for me, Honey." His words effortlessly drip off his tongue, his eyes watching as his finger gets covered in your juices in seconds, adding a second one with ease to the first, watching how you squirm underneath him. Though he noticed how a little bundle of nerves was being neglected, and being the man he is, decided to fix it as he leaned down and gently takes it into his mouth, sucking it in a soft manner.

That seemed to have been enough to pull another orgasm from you, strings of moans leaving your lips as the mechanic listens in satisfaction as he drinks. You. Up.

Your mind was completely fogged with pleasure, small twitches here and there as you attempted to get your breathing under control. In the midst of that, Dell pulled away being careful to not overstimulate you any more as he pulled his fingers out, peppering your thighs with kisses as he waits for you to come back to earth, a smile on his face.

"You alright, darlin'?"

It took you a few seconds to process the question, only mustering up a nod, that was enough for him though as he leaned up to place a careful kiss on your cheek. "Okay, Hun. How does a nice warm bath sound?"

God I love chubby strong men

SNIPER

He has fangs

He will use them (gently) whenever he can

Nibbles at your clit/folds or your thighs whenever he goes down on you

I feel like he has a smell kink

Oh who am I kidding he DEFINITELY has a smell kink

Like, look at him

He's obsessed with the smell of you

To the point he kinda steals a few pairs of your underwear from your dirty laundry to keep for himself

Okay moving on

Has wandering hands, he cannot keep them in place

Very shy when it comes to it, and awkward for the first few times

But after a few encouraging words and teases he gets right to it

His tongue is a little longer than the other two

It's not as thick but omg can he reach allll those good spots in you

Maybe a smidge less wetter than Medic's

A little submissive, considering he's very touch-starved

Fastest to become pussy drunk too

So many whimpers and moans are falling out of his mouth and into your pussy

"Ohh bloody hell, Roo.. I can't stop.."

Denies that he even got pussy drunk (liar)

A little cautious whenever your thighs are slightly squeezing his head

Cause my man is HELLA skinny

A stick if you will

Head would easily collapse compared to the other two

One time you squeezed your thighs a bit too hard, and he ended up with a cranium broken into several pieces

That was fun explaining to the Medic

When the others found out they never would let him live it down

Poor guy :[

His fingers are longgggg and have a good amount of thickness to them

Like he spends more time watching his fingers stretching out your cunt

If he feels adventurous enough (or brave) he'll want you to sit on his face while he eats you out

You swear he gets more vocal when you sit on his face

So. Much. PRAISE.

He accidentally edges you without knowing it sometimes, but he always makes up for it <3

"Fuuuck, Roo.. You look so pretty spread out on my fingers.." The temperature in Mick's camper seemed to increase rapidly despite it being chilly in the early morning of New Mexico. The sun was barely peaking from behind the mountainous region, the interior of the van being dark due to the lack of light as you watched the outline of the sniper's frame above you with breathy moans leaving your lips as those deliciously thick fingers of his pump themselves into your heat.

His sunglasses were still on the small bedside he had in his camper, giving you a clear view of his eyes as they were intensely watching how his fingers disappeared into your heat with a erotically wet 'squelch' filling the space of the camper.

"Mick! Je–sus don't stop!" The knot in your stomach seemed to be getting tighter, steadily building up in pressure the more time that passed as his fingers dragged deliciously against the ridges of your walls, shocks of pleasuring shooting out through your nerves.

Though it seemed like his fingers inside you weren't enough, as he lowered his head to be leveled with your sopping wet, hot core.

Removing his fingers, whines left your mouth, about to ask him why he stopped before keening at the feeling of his fingers rubbing at your clit and the feeling of his warm tongue pushing itself into your hole.

"Fucking shiT–!"

His normally cool and calm facade quickly broke down the moment he had a taste of you on his tongue, whines and gasps leaving his mouth and into your core, making it more pleasurable for you as your back arched up from the bed, your hand shooting out to grip at his hair as an anchor.

The action alone pulled a loud groan from him, his tongue seemingly going at a faster pace, messily lapping at your flowing juices as it covers every inch of his lower face and the inside of your thighs.

His hands soon began to wonder, various places of your body did he squeeze gently, what was once steady hands were shaky and unsteady as they continued to roam your body feeling every bump, scar, and crevice underneath his fingers tips.

Everything started to become fuzzy from the constant pleasure and sensations, to add to it Mick hasn't stopped those beautiful moans of his as your cunt muffled them, you could faintly hear some words, most likely words of praise. You could see the top half of his face through teary eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as sweat dotted here and there on his face, hair messy and pointing in nearly every direction, god he was just so handsome.

The knot in your stomach finally broke, waves of euphoria washing over your body in rapid paces, nerves sparking and lighting on fire as the sensation surges and crashes throughout. Unconsciously, you accidentally wrapped your thighs around the sniper's head, squeezing a bit too tightly for his comfort. That's if his mind was clear, he would've cared, though his top priority as of now was to clean you up off all those delicious juices spilling out of your core and onto his tongue.

It took him some time to pull away once your ecstasy has passed, removing himself from in-between your thighs, placing delicate kisses along the way as he pulled himself up to lay down beside you.

Silence for a few moments, before you began to giggle exhausted, wrapping your arms around him to huddle yourself within his warmth.

"Wha's so funny, Doll?"

"Do I really have that effect on you?"

"Wha'?"

"To make all those cute little noises of yours."

"... don't know whatcha talkin' bout."

"Liar."

AHHHHHH I WISHED TO HAVE FOUND A BETTER ENDING FOR SNIPER USUJJJJWHWIWHJEIE 😭😭😭😭 (probably will update it to fix that later tho)

[olieamr]

what would happen if I replaced all of snipers jarate pills with something like aderall?

(my hand writing is shit translation: DOC- THE MUSIC IN MY HEAD IS GONE.)

[neon-junkie]

After Dark - Chpt.1

Summary: Tucked away in a lower level of Coruscant, Crosshair finds himself in a bar that he frequents - not for the drinks, nor the music, but for one woman, and one woman alone.

After months of silent encounters and flirtatious glances, Crosshair finally plucks up the courage to approach her.

Hopefully, she reciprocates his admiration.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!Reader

Rating: SFW (but will end NSFW)

Word count: 2k

Tags: Slow burn, Multi-chapter, Strangers to lovers, Flirting, Drinking, Dates.

Notes: Inspired by After Dark by Mr. Kitty - a favourite song of mine that reminds me of Crosshair.

I've been slowly working on this for a few months, and I figured I should at least post the first chapter lol. Curse depression for killing my motivation to write :(

She's here. Again.

That girl at the bar, sitting alongside her friends, chatting away in between the soft glances in his direction.

Crosshair's local watering hole, sometimes accompanied by his brothers, is a dingy dive bar near the lower levels of Coruscant. It's no 79's, far from it. Fuck that place, with its thumping music, overprices drinks, and hoards of regular clones. The Batch prefer to drink somewhere quieter - Crosshair prefers to drink somewhere quieter.

He's alone tonight, dressed in a crisp shirt and pressed pants, looking far too tasteful for a man who is simply out for a few drinks by himself. He's always been a fan of his own company, secluded in his usual little corner, a half-empty glass of bourbon sitting on his table. Within a couple of minutes, he'll finish the last swigs, and order yet another.

Crosshair never drinks heavily, a handful of doubles, and then he's gone. He'll stay in this bar for, what? An hour? Two at the most? He just needs some quiet time to himself, an escape from the rush of war and destruction, but coming to this particular bar wasn't his choice.

Back when the Batch were first deployed, and they returned to Coruscant after their first successful missions, they celebrated by going out on a bar crawl. Wrecker's idea, and seeing as they were still young and dumb(er), they all agreed to it.

One thing led to another, and they stumbled upon this place by chance. It's quiet, with soft music playing faintly through the speakers, a range of guests who keep to themselves, and shitty decor that was in dire need of a refurbishment a hundred years ago. But most importantly - they serve clones.

The Batch were only meant to have one drink here, one and done, then onto the next bar! Until a group of ladies entered the venue, a particular one catching the Sniper's eye.

Crosshair has never been one to ogle, stare, fantasize, or even crush on another being. Romance is… phah! Not his thing, Wrecker's maybe, and Hunter's for sure. But Crosshair? What's the point? Wasting your time, credits, and emotions on someone who will string you along for a few months, and then dump you out of the blue. Crosshair's cynical mindset has kept him far from ever obtaining a love life.

Everything clicked into place when he saw you, a revealing dress hugging at your body, heels that were clearly new from their lack of scuff marks, pristine hair and makeup, and a cute little clutch bag hung over your shoulder. Yeah, his admiration was noticeable, as his brothers caught wind of it within an instant, and to this day, Crosshair has never lived it down.

Yet, despite all his years of training, and the woes that he had already faced, he couldn't pluck up the courage to simply… walk over to you, and say hi.

Maker, no. An elite Trooper such as himself doesn't have a lick of courage when it comes to intimacy. Or rather, he didn't. Such a thing has grown over the months that Crosshair has spent returning to this establishment, either by himself, or with one of his brothers. Never the whole pack at once, though, as they'd definitely do something to embarrass him in front of you.

But tonight's the night. Crosshair has promised himself that. Even if (when) you reject him, it'll be worth it. He tried, and he can cross 'love' off his list of things to do, and move onto the next thing.

Although, Crosshair is hopeful. He's met your gaze one too many times, flirty glances from across the room, your girls giving you the odd nudge and wink whenever they notice that Crosshair is looking your way. The void in Crosshair's chest burns with admiration after each and every minor encounter, and the butterflies in your stomach dance and flutter just the same way. Such a pleasant feeling for two people who have never spoken a word to each other.

Your girls, like his brothers, are just as eager to get you two finally talking. This must be part of one big plan, as they inform you that they're going out for a smoke, leaving you to continue sitting at the bar, watching their drinks for them.

Just as luck would have it, Crosshair finishes the last of his bourbon, the liquid courage pumping through his veins. He rises to his feet before his brain can really process what's about to happen, and as he approaches the bar, all he does is rest his hands atop the counter as he waits to be served.

He's standing right beside you, yet you're facing forward. If only you'd tilt your head to the right, and look up a little, you'd finally make close contact with the man who's been clouding your thoughts every night. Finally, you do it, looking at him, only for your words to fall flat.

Crosshair flops worse than you do, almost letting out a squeak from his cracking voice. He's nervous, but he puts in an attempt to mask that daunting emotion. "Hey," Crosshair finally settles. No cheesy pickup line, no textbook flirting, just a simple greeting in hopes that you'll at least welcome him into a conversation.

"Hey," you greet in return, matching (or attempting to match) his content demeanour. Crosshair practically shivers at your voice, smoother than any velvet that he's ever felt. And now that he's up-close, he can already feel himself getting lost within your eyes, warm pools welcoming him in, a sight that he wishes to wake up to every morning.

'Get a grip!' Crosshair reminds himself, and plays his second card. "Would you care for a drink?" he offers. It's a little stereotypical, but it makes his intentions clear.

"Only if you let me buy the next round."

Ah! Your tone, the soft sprinkle of sass. Such wit and charm, and you've only said ten words. Crosshair prays that he's met his match, someone just as dry and cynical as himself.

"It's a deal, Miss…?" Crosshair's words trail off, but his question is quickly answered as you give him your name. He nods, repeating it with grace, and then gives his own. "I'm Crosshair."

"That would explain the tattoo," you point out. Crosshair often forgets about it, the stick and poke tattoo right across his face. He wonders if you like it.

"It's my area of speciality," Crosshair explains with a light shrug. "I'm a sharpshooter for the Republic."

"A clone?" you question, and Crosshair has to bite back at hissing at the word. Ugh, don't remind him!

"To some degree," he shrugs once more, then focuses his attention to giving the bartender his order, swiftly followed up by yours.

Attempting to relax, Crosshair perches himself on the stool besides you. "And what about you?" he questions, making light conversation. You tell him your job, as dull as it can be, "but it pays the bills," you explain.

"Mhm, I know how you feel," he hums. Crosshair's eyes wander across your body, not in a perverted way, but out of sheer curiosity. "You always dress well," he finds himself complimenting without a single thought, throwing both of you off.

"Thank you," you reply with a smile. "I can say the same about you. You can't go wrong with a button-up shirt and smart pants."

Crosshair catches himself smiling. "Thanks," he responds, and for once, not with a hiss.

"You're not with your friends tonight," you point out, vaguely gesturing to the empty booth where his rowdy bunch tend to rest.

"My brothers," Crosshair corrects you. "They can be a bit… much sometimes. I enjoy coming here to get a break from them," Crosshair explains, letting his eyes roll in annoyance at those that he secretly loves.

"Is that the only reason why you come here?" you ask with a wink, causing the tips of Crosshair's ears to turn red, and the sea in his stomach to unravel into a thunderous storm. May the Maker help him, because he's starting to realise just how uneducated he is when it comes to feelings.

"You know damn-well that's not the only reason," Crosshair replies with a chuckle. "I simply adore the decor," he follows up, attempting to bring some humour to the conversation. Internally, he's cringing at his poor attempt, yet it's enough to let you laugh.

"Me too," you laugh. "There's nothing that I love more than old furniture that is soaked with alcohol!"

Crosshair laughs along with you, but with every chuckle, his stomach turns deeper with unease. Maker, he's finally here, speaking to you, and who would have thought that you'd be perfect in every way?

Then again, things are far too early for Crosshair to truly know what you're like. Hopefully, if you allow him, he'll discover who you really are within time.

Your drink being placed on the bar top catches your eye, and you don't hesitate to bring it up to your lips. "Thank you again for the drink," you comment after taking a sip.

"It's no problem," Crosshair replies with a soft shrug, helping himself to his glass of bourbon.

"Why don't we try a different bar for my round?" you suggest, which throws Crosshair off guard. This is swiftly becoming an impulsive date, not that Crosshair minds. Then again, does he? He hasn't got a clue what he's doing, but seeing as you're initiating things, he must be doing a decent job. (For now.)

"I'd like that," Crosshair agrees, being careful to use like and not love. Can't be too eager!

The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor draws your eyes away from the Sniper, peering over your shoulder to see that your girls have finally returned. They're nattering away as they approach you, not paying any mind, only they stop in their tracks, mouths agape, when they finally look in your direction.

Never would they have guessed that they'd be met by this sight - their friend, who they left to sit alone whilst they went outside for a smoke, is finally sitting next to that reclusive man who she gets giddy just from the sight of.

"Girls," you call out to them. With a hand raised, you gesture to your new-found friend (date?)

"This is Crosshair."

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ gen

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER ONE

SQUADS & REBELS

▪︎ SQUAD 143 NOTABLE CHARACTERS

Squad Leader Lee Minho ▪︎ stoic and blunt, an intimidating teacher. Knows more than he should, protector of y/n, at least, he thinks he is.

Cadet L/n Y/n ▪︎ one of the best students of her year; could be the top student if only her unarmed hand to hand combat improved. clumsy in day to day life, but sharp and precise with a weapon in her hands.

Cadet Kim Seungmin ▪︎ y/n's best friend since she arrived at the QZ 13 years ago. a strong and sarcastic fighter, unwilling to submit to authority. would do anything for the people he cares about, but they don't need to know that.

Cadet Hwang Yeji ▪︎ y/n's roommate born and raised in the QZ, knows that place and the surrounding area like the back of her hand. a fluid fighter and smart girl, on her way to becoming another squad leader.

Cadet Shin Yuna ▪︎ brought to the QZ as a young child with no recollection of the outside world, growing up beside karina like a sister. y/n's other roommate specializing in medicine.

▪︎ SQUAD 144 NOTABLE CHARACTERS

Squad Leader Seo ▪︎ driven by unstoppable determination and loyalty, she's gunning for her squad to be the best of the best. fiercely protective of her members, not just because one of them is her brother.

Cadet Seo Changbin ▪︎ a friend of seungmin's, a strong and valued soldier. gets away with more than he should.

Cadet Shin Ryujin ▪︎ another friend of seungmin's. top of her class, don't care attitude. mess with her or her friends, and you're done for.

Cadet Yang Jeongin ▪︎ went missing last year after being mistakenly sent on a real mission before he was ready and hasn't been seen since. no body was found, he's been assumed dead amongst his peers.

▪︎ REBELS NOTABLE CHARACTERS

Bahng Chan ▪︎ unspoken leader of the group. would put his own life at risk for everyone he cares about, even if he just met you. takes care of the others, but who takes care of him?

Hwang Hyunjin ▪︎ best hand-to-hand fighter in the group, hands down. thinks his worth is tied to his skills. has a secret creative side and always carries a sketchbook with him, capturing his friends in soft moments.

Han Jisung ▪︎ a skilled sniper, and not just with a gun. can hit almost any shot as long as he can focus. pretty much at least good at most aspects of combat, and he's funny too!

Lee Chaeryeong ▪︎ another skilled sniper, quiet and stealthy. sees a lot, hears a lot, says nothing about any of it; you can trust her. lost her sister when a QZ attacked her camp as a young kid and met chan not too long after.

Lee Felix ▪︎ resident doctor and beam of positivity. the apocalypse calls for hard times, but he always shows the silver lining to those around him in an effort to cheer them up, even if only for a moment.

Bahng Hannah ▪︎ chan's missing sister. a free spirit and curious person, always yearning for knowledge. a lover of music and art, somewhat sheltered by chan from the doom and gloom around her.

[alkaline-wtr]

Coming Home

gn!reader Description: Your military husband surprisingly comes home from his deployment early. Genre/Warnings: Ghost x reader, Soap x reader, König x reader, fluff, head-cannon WC: 496

My Masterlist

AN** Now that J-hope is gone, I am in my Military wife era.

GHOST:

As you step into the living room from the hallway, you're surprised by the looming dark figure standing before you. Your heart jumps in your chest, but then you recognize the white, contrasting skull pattern across the black fabric of the balaclava the man standing across from you wears.

Ghost was home, and every nerve in your body went into overdrive. You wanted to run and hug him. To kiss him, but you don't.

You and Ghost had always agreed to slowly build up physical contact to keep his PTSD at bay and avoid triggering him. It took patience, sometimes, but it was worth it.

Ghost holds your eye for a moment longer, then takes a long stride across the room and grabs you by the shoulders.

This unexpected gesture surprises you, but as he wraps his arms around you and buries his nose in your neck, tears well in your eyes. You're overcome with joy, not just because Ghost was home, but because he trusted you enough to embrace you without any thought.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding each other in silence.

SOAP:

Sitting at the bar, you sigh, staring at the crystal glass of amber liquid. A figure leans on the bar beside you and asks the bartender for a beer.

You ignore the person as they're served their drink.

“Is this seat taken?” The voice asks.

“No,” You reply.

You pick up the glass and take the last sip, and then the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. It was that voice, and it was familiar.

You snap your head around, and the figure stands there, leaning sideways on the bar with his beer in hand.

He had that stupid little smile on his face. He looks at you. Your eyes are wide with shock.

"Soap?" You ask. Your voice is quiet.

“I’m home!”

He sang, his hands pointed outwards as if to present himself. You jump off the barstool and hug his neck.

Soap laughed, relishing in the scent of your shampoo.

KONIG:

You were at the grocery store, talking to the cashier while she rang up your purchases. You were listening to the 'blip' of the scanner as you fumbled through your wallet for a debit card. When your gaze returned to the cashier, frozen in place, her face filled with fear as she stared blankly at a spot above you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Your stomach dropped as you slowly turned around. A tall, mountainous man was standing over you, staring down at you through the makeshift sniper hood over his head.

"You're here!" You exclaimed, breaking the moment of silence.

You dropped the wallet and jumped into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and he hugged you tightly, rocking you back and forth while you clung to him excitedly.

"I've missed you so much, mein liebling," he said in a thick accent that was music to your ears.

[downundergarfield]

Support classes reaction to reader getting jealous? Like the merc is getting a lot of attention from like idfk a group of women getting gas at a gas station and reader is just like : |

Support classes react to a reader getting jealous!

It's something to think about, so keep these three men In awkward situations, I know you like to watch it.

Medic It smelled of blood and meat. This is not surprising, because you spent time with your favorite psychiatric doctor. The man was collecting someone's insides in a container. Fortunately for him, this someone will not wake up, it will not cause problems. You were sitting with him, on the lookout. The door, the existence of which you did not even know, opened with an unpleasant creak. Ludwig yelped, covering his crime with his back, you slowly approached him. "-Oh, there you are, Dr. Doe! I've been looking for you everywhere! And you, of course, were here, well, how else! You are a real doctor, a real master of your path!" This girl was making eyes at Ludwig from the very beginning. And of course she fell for his fake name. "- uh… well… Actually, I'm busy." "- of course, of course! I understand, I don't dare to distract you, I just would like to spend a little more time with you. You're leaving soon…and we would…you know… We could have done something in my office." She was already snuggling up to him and running her finger along his chest, but you intervened, speaking to her in a completely unfriendly tone "- Dr. Doe doesn't need a secretary for his job." You spoke up, looking at her angrily. Obviously, you're jealous, which only made Ludwig worry more "- Fräulein, actually, I have a girlfriend" The unpleasant personality changed dramatically in her face, obviously, she saw her plans crumble into thousands of pieces right before her eyes "- Oh, is that so? I was hoping it was just a friend of yours. Well, I think I'll go. I have urgent matters to attend to.." The girl hurries to the exit. Before leaving, she throws a tearful glance in the direction of the Medic "you broke my heart, Dr. Doe-" She waves her hair and locks the door. You can feel Ludwig exhaling all the accumulated air in his lungs. And how anger boils inside you, rising to your face. "- Gott sei Dank…" "- WHAT A SLU-" "- shh. She's gone, but that's half the tro-. " "-I really hope she doesn't look at you anymore." You interrupted him with a frustrated face. "-…Of course not! I only love you, and some girl won't change my mind. Besides, she doesn't have such a beautiful body like you." He puts his arm around your waist and then looks at the pile of organs in the container. "-Ve still need to get zese organs out unnoticed.." You nod. Yeah, he's damn right.

Sniper The brainy figure shakes while his van hurriedly drives along a deserted road. It was unbearably hot outside, so Mick was left wearing only his vest. Anything is better than his entire working form. You were steaming in just a T-shirt and shorts. On the other hand, you enjoyed each other's appearance. "- need t` refuel." "- alright!" You're moving on, to the nearest gas station. And fortunately, it appears soon. You pull into the gas station, noticing a pink mini-bus next to one of the gas pumps. Girls in swimsuits were hanging around. You're tense. "- what is it?" "- bet it's just a busload of prostitutes." You were silent for a minute, but Mick interrupted the silence by opening the door. You jumped out after him. He inserted the refueling gun and looked at his watch. It seems that no one noticed you and was not going to bother you, so you relaxed. "- I'm going to get some water."

He nodded curtly, and you walked away past the noisy girls. They smelled of a disgusting cloying perfume. Disgustingly feminine music was playing from their bus. The disgusting pink color irritated your nerves, but you didn't say anything. ----

In your hands were bottles of cold, even icy water and one ice block. There were no girls in sight, thank God, but when you approached the van, it became clear to you where they had gone. The Sniper did a good job, he didn't give them any attention, even if the girls climbed under his vest. He beat those hands painfully, but did not give an answer. "- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??!" The girls looked at you like a flock of seagulls. "- Not every guy at the gas station is lonely man, NOW LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!!" "- you managed to snatch a gorgeous male~" One of the girls blurted out, poking you in the nose and they left, chattering something in squeaky voices. Mick exhaled, growling. You patted him on the back. " 'm sorry…" It seems he felt a lot of guilt for this situation "- it's not your fault, Mickey, they just need a rich guy who can pay them all." "- I know… but I'm sorry…anyway." You pat him on the back again, comforting him. He smiles warmly and is clearly calming down. "- thank you, sheila." "- no worries. Would you like a popsicle?"

Spy It was a hot Friday evening, even stuffy. You had a long weekend ahead of you. And of course the Spy wouldn't be the Spy if he didn't decide to spend his weekend with a glass of fine wine. You went with him, and he immediately warned you that there could be quite rich people there, who often turn up their noses so high that they don't see people under them. You said you'd be careful with him and he smiled warmly, scratching the top of your head. The Frenchman finished styling your hair while you picked out your best clothes. He praised your costume/dress and you finally came out. When you arrived at the liquor store, you admired its beauty. It was neatly built of a dark-grade of some kind of wood, the logs were hewn and beautiful patterns were neatly burned on them. When you went inside, a rather pleasant smell of wood and wine hit your nose. You glanced at the spy and he looked confident and pleased. You walked between the shelves for a long time and every time you were amazed at the number of wines that generally happen in this damn world. A note of unpleasant bitter feeling settled in your chest when a buxom lady in a black ball gown and curly hair approached your man and began to ask about something. "- you look like a person who understands this, what kind of wine can you recommend?" To your indignation, the Spy answered her, consulted her, communicated with a warm smile. You're not used to seeing him like this. Maybe he is callous and tired only in front of his colleagues? It's because they're all men in a row, isn't it? Or maybe the smell of wine just hit him in the head and that was enough for intoxication? It didn't bother you at all. When the girl left, thanking the Spy for the consultation, you pulled the sleeve of his suit. He understood everything from your displeased face. "- oh, don't do that, Mon chéri, you know that I only love you. The lady just needed advice." He gently pats you on the cheek and the feeling of his gloves on your skin more or less soothe you. "- let's not linger here." "- well, bien Mon amour, I just chose what to take~.

[flashingbands]

Heres some random ideas of tf2 musical numbers (Based on the official comics) :

First: I am not affiliated with Vale in any way, this is a stupid musical theater kid who is hyper fixated on TF2 and wanted to combine their interests!

So to start... This is a stupid idea thats been floating around in my head for a bit! Anyways this is an overview of what teh songs would be called, where they are from, and the cast! I kept all of this in series order, and try playing match with the songs and their scene Idk, on with the musical idea!

Cast: Miss pauling, all the mercs (originals, TFC, and TF2 mercs) Zhanna, The people of Tuefort, Saxton hale, The mann family, Heavy's family, Scout's mom, Tom jones, mr. b+Bidwell & Mr. reddy, the pilot, Maggie, Soldier's raccoons, Merasmus, The administrator, God, the devil, the robots, and Demo's internal organs! (Let me know if I missed anybody I probably did miss one person at least) and one last note, I'm not noting everything as tf2 or TFC unless its important or there are tfc and a tf2 merc in the same song!

Also musicals usually have under 20 songs.... yeah we all know the TF2 musical if it was real would be 100 songs of pure madness all taking place in thirty minutes somehow.

Song 1 (Opener, takes place before the comics (Probably the catch up comic tbh) Meet the mercs! - all

Song 2 (Ring of fired): take the mann out of mann co. - saxton hale, Grey mann, Miss pauling, the Administrator, and Olivia mann

Song 3 (also ring of fired): gather em up! - Miss pauling, Soldier, Pyro, Demo, demo's mom, Tom jones (For about five seconds) the old people (The ensemble)

Song 6 (Unhappy returns): Like old times - Maggie & Saxton hale

Song 5 (unhappy returns): Hanging: - Scout, Spy, Soldier, Demoman, Miss Pauling, the citizens of tuefort

Song 6 (a cold day in hell): honey bears! - Scout, Soldier, Pyro, Heavy

Song 7 (Cold day in hell) : A man like you! - Soldier & Zhanna

Song 8 (Cold day in hell): I will protect you - Heavy & Heavy's family

Song 9 ( Cold day in hell): Clasical - Team clasic mercs - TFC medic :( + Tf2 medic

Song 10 ( Blood in the water): A new mission - Miss pauling & The Administrator

Song 11 (Blood in the water): He's gone - Heavy & Scout (With Scout's father (Spy) and Heavy's dad making a short cameo

Song 12 (Blood in the water): Neck Snaping! - Soldier & Zhanna (Spy interrupts for a moment)

Song 13 (Blood in the water): Life forever - BLU Engie & Administrator

Song 14(Blood in the water): Welcome home - Sniper, Sniper's parents, Sniper's adoptive parents

Intermission! (And a quick note: Dear god the comics are long (I knew BITW was long.... but not that long! also lots of Soldier/Zhanna songs :)

Song 15 (Old wounds): My little maggot bear - Zhanna, Soldier, Grey mann

Song 16 (Old wounds): Cell block issues - Demo, Demo's internal organs, Miss pauling, Spy, Pyro

Song 17 (Old wounds) : stay here - Sniper, Sniper's parents

Song 18 (The naked and the dead): A new mission reprise - Miss pauling, The Administrator

Song 19 (the naked and the dead): Cell block issues reprise - Demo, Demo's inturnal organs

Song 20 (The naked and the dead): Australiam - TFC heavy, TFC Engie

Song 21 (The naked and the dead): My closest ally - Scout & Pauling (WIth a silly medic moment) and Soldier & Zhanna

Song 22 (the naked and the dead): Mann Co submarine guns - Saxton hale, Maggie, Scout, Miss pauling, demo, Zhanna, heavy, soldier,

Song 23 (the naked and the dead): "Apricot" - Spy (Disguised as TFC engie, so he might sing that part), TFC Sniper, TF2 Sniper

Song 24 (The naked and the dead): Broken bodys - TFC heavy, TF2 heavy, TF2 Medic

Song 25 (The naked and the dead): Honey bears reprise - Soldier, Zhanna

Song 26 (The naked and the dead): Look for me at the light - Spy & Scout, (Tom jones is in it I guess) (So is Scout' ma)

Song 27 (The naked and the dead): God's perfect man - Scout, God

Song 28 (The naked and the dead): Devil's date - Medic & the devil

Song 29 (The naked and the dead): We are team fortress - all the tem fort mercs, Miss pauling, and TFC heavy

Song 30 (the naked and the dead): Last chance! - The administrator & BLU Engie

And thats all the comics so far! I might try my hand at writing lyrics for some of them but IDK, The seventh comic isn't out so if it ever comes out and anybody wantes me to finish this list I probably will! Also if ya people want me to do the update comics I would be delighted to! Seeing the size of TNaTD alone I think this list would be longer than Hamilton if i did the seventh comic! A last thing is: I tried to get every part of the comics that could be a musical number and was plot relevant without cloging the whole thing with nonstop songs! Musicals are called Musical theater productions for a reason! If you folk want to see any other ideas I had for songs that were not in the list or have suggestions about scenes I forgot, hit me up! (Also I was thinking about moving every song from gather 'em up a number over (IFYKYK) did not cus it looked better for valve!

[lunatic-pudge]

Toothaches and Cuddles (Sniper x GN! Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's 6am, my wisdom teeth hurt, and I'm caring for a very sick baby right now. I also haven't gone to bed yet either, writing this instead. Please enjoy my mid little story, I've never really written anything and posted it anywhere, so this is a big step for me. I know this isn't much, but I'm sleep deprived and trying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain. Searing, throbbing pain.

That's the only thing that can be felt right now. Pain. The worst part is where the pain is located. Deep in the recesses of their mouth. Hidden deep within the tooth, festering away. An agony that seems neverending.

Laying on the mattress in the camper van, holding the side of their face in excruciating agony, unable to do anything except listen to the music that softly played. The urge to bite down fiercely onto something is strong, like it would bring relief to the aching tooth, yet, it would only induce more pain, and another set of tears to spill. Damn that psychotic Medic for being away on a contract. It's like he knew that his help was desperately needed at the moment and chose to leave. What a sick sadist.

While they laid scrunched up in a fetal position, safely covered by a couple of blankets, they laid knowing that there beloved assassin would return soon, ready to embrace and comfort them, helping to temporarily alleviate the nonstop pain.

As if he had read their thoughts, the door to the camper swung open and entered the lanky huntsman. He wasted no time kicking off his cowboy boots and discarding his hat and sunglasses, climbing the ladder to join his darling in the bed. He laid facing them, engulfing their petite frame in his warmth. His embrace brought a comfort like no other. The throbbing toothache seemingly lessened a bit, making it not a major focus anymore.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, roo."

Who knew such a rugged bushman could bring such comfort. A serene peace fell upon the camper as the lovers laid intertwined within each other. Words didn't need to be exchange to know how much they loved each other. A gentle caress here and a kiss there, everything was peaceful. The music played softly into the air, helping to relax any remaining tension.

Pain a long forgotten memory now as they snuggled closer to their beloved. The sound of his heartbeat was strong, drowning out the music they were once listening to.

As the lovers continued to cuddle, slowly but surely, they began to drift off. Sleep pulling them both into it's spell. To whisk them off into another world where they'd still be together. A world where pain was not known. Before succumbing to the dream world, they made sure to make a metal note to give the Medic a piece of their mind when he came back.

[splatoonpolls]

SPLATOON OC TOURNEY THIRD PLACE

TAMI THE RUTHLESS AND VALIANT CREATURE FROM MUNI ERO KAIYO BY @wyrm-in-a-closet VS MADDY MEDUSA BY @anemonequeen VS PUMPKIN BY @judithan-xing

PROPAGANDA

TAMI

An inkling born to ordinary parents who worked at Gone Fission power plant. However, a salmonid big run happened in the area, and because Grizzco didn't yet exist, it had to be abandoned, and Tami's parents were killed. Tami herself, who was also there, was badly injured and lost her right arm, was found by some salmonids, but because she was a young inkling the salmonids didn't know what she was and so instead of killing her took her home. She then spent almost her entire life growing up with the salmonids, and became a very skilled fighter, but also starting a band with a couple other salmonids. They make music that's like horrible to listen to and will overestimate you. Once she was 14, she joined the war on salmonids on the side of the salmonids. Over time Grizzco expands and poses a larger and larger threat to the salmonids, so Tami decides that she's going to go try and put a stop to it, because she's the only one who could make it to inkling civilation without being killed, although that doesn't change the fact she didn't know the language, culture, or anything. After spending several nights on the streets of splatsville, Tami is found by Tide, an octoling who's been living there for some time. Tide takes Tami under their wing, despite them knowing nothing about each other. Over the next few months Tide teachers Tami inkling language, has Tami participate in battles (where she fuckin rocks at it bc she's been literally trained for war), all while Tami searches for more info on Grizzco, but unfortunately nobody knows shit about it. Finally she happens across Cuttlefish and eventually falls into Alterna, where she has no idea what's going on until eventually wow Mr. Grizz is there. She fucking kills him and then just kinda leaves without really joining the squidbeak splatoon she just wanted to kill Mr grizz. Anyways then she and Tide probably go back to salmonid or something I haven't really figure this out. Sorry for the text wall

MADDY

oc posts

my splat3 sona! shes a funny anemone girl she's the heiress to the throne of a not-so-distant region called Choralia, populated by mostly sea anemones. She's in hiding though, since she doesnt want the responsibility of being queen and she's strictly anti monarchy she has a purple clown fish named perseus who's constantly acting like she still wants to be the heiress moved to the splatlands from reef city, the capitol of choralia she constantly has her headphones blasting loud music as a form of stimulation. she enjoys the vibration she runs a music store in splatsville called Medusa's Temple, but it's barely open cause she's out playing turf war and napping

PUMPKIN

He's a pro-rank turf war player who had to drop out after his mom's death - resulting in a steep decline in performance and attendance. Eventually he tried to get back into the swing of things by trying to steal equipment from Spyke. Doesn't work, he gets caught and is instead recruited to become Spyke's errand boy and bodyguard. Please vote for my squid son!! Him and Spyke are gay and in the most toxic bodyguard/overlord relationship ever seen in Inkopolis. Local pro-league sniper has had the worst fuckin life imaginable, he is but a pathetic little meow meow of a squid (but will kill you for realsies)

[ya-zz]

Hi I hope you’re doing well!! I just read through all your fics and just want to say I love your writing 🫶🫶

Do you think you could write something for Genji or Hanzo with a reader that gets flustered when they see them wearing suits? No worries if not ^^

Soo... Feralness has gone down, but I still won't deny the fact that any of these boys in suits will make me act up- Genji suit when, Blizzard?

Hanzo and Genji x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1098

A/N: I wanna clarify before you read that this is not Shimada/cest at all.

There was an event you had been invited to, the invitation being slipped through the crack of your door when you were sleeping. It was a sudden surprise, but one you weren’t going to say no to. In fact, you were waiting for the invitation having already heard rumours about this party. The moment you saw that envelope, the smile that crossed your face hurt. 

You spent the better half of the day mentally preparing. You assumed most of the Overwatch agents were going tonight considering it was being held by them, but you knew that there were some that would rather spend their evening hiding away. 

There were colleagues there that you could hang out with, you knew that, but the anxiety wasn't about who you would be with, but how you would look. You were worried about whether or not you would fit in, or if you would be judged. You were worried about whether you would be able to hold a conversation, or if you would say something stupid and embarrass yourself. Quickly dismissing the thoughts, you head for the bathroom to shower.

The rest of the afternoon was spent getting ready, making sure there were no creases or wrinkles in your outfit and once you were confident enough with yourself, letting out a shaky sigh, you left your room and headed towards the event. 

–

The car stopped outside of the building, armed guards surrounding the area, snipers upon the rooftops. It was normal for you, seeing all these military guards dotted around, that you payed them no mind except from passing a smile when you headed up the stairs. 

Showing the front guards your ID badge that was issued to you when you became an agent at Overwatch, they stepped to the side and let you in, offering a “good evening and have a good night” as you entered. 

The hallway was quiet as you walked through but you could hear the music and chatter on the other side. Upon getting closer, a door not far from your left opened up that made you stop in your tracks. 

Hanzo walks out, hands clasped together as he attempts to warm them back up from the water in the bathroom. He looks elegant as always. Adorned with gold accents, Hanzo Shimada looked so irresistible that it made your cheeks rise in temperature. He catches you, turning and bowing in your direction before heading over to you. Butterflies began to form in your stomach, the nervousness rising within you.

He was speaking, but you couldn’t hear him. Your eyes were glued to his body. His hair was up, as it usually was, but his silk ribbon looked different. It was gold, yes, but the black that gradually faded to the lengths end accentuated his suit more. The white shirt popped against the black suit and tie, small golden accents going up the collar of his blazer. The golden cufflinks glittered in the ambient light. His hands reached up to unbutton the blazer, showing the waist coat he was wearing, tight against his torso. Every part of this man was perfect. 

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice broke through your gaze, eyes darting up to look at him. He chuckles, seeing your flustered face.

“Sorry-” Your breathing catches in your throat as you smile awkwardly. He knew you were gawking at him. 

“Let us greet the others.” He offers his arm out to you, which you take a little too quick and it embarrasses you even more. Hanzo couldn’t help but smile as he escorts you towards the main hall. 

The room was bright, a low chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling. A live band played on the stage, Lucio conversing with them as any musician would do. There were many people within the hall, Overwatch officials mixed with corporate humans and omnics alike. Butlers of both types wandered through the area offering a variety of foods and drinks to the guests. 

“Come. The group is over there.” The archer gestures over to the other side of the hall as he continues to walk with you. 

It took whatever strength you had to not faint then and there. Your heartbeat was elevated, especially being this close to this man in particular. You had your eyes on him, of course, but wouldn’t push to make that first move. 

As you approached the group, their eyes turn onto the pair of you and smiles and waves followed after. It felt comfortable being among your colleagues in a non work setting. Everyone was having fun, everyone was talking, telling jokes. It was a night that you were going to remember for multiple reasons. 

“Has anyone seen my brother?” Hanzo asked amidst conversations. Someone responded to him, telling him that he went outside before returning to whatever conversation was happening within their vicinity. 

It wasn’t long later that the other Shimada brother appeared, Zenyatta next to him. It was unnatural seeing the omnic in formal attire that it caught your eyes first, but the moment you look over at the younger Shimada, the feeling that you felt earlier in the pit of your stomach comes back up. 

Dressed just like his brother in a black suit and tie just sent shivers down your spine. Both Shimadas making you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Lust. 

Genji immediately saw the change in your demeanour, a sly chuckle escaping him as he greeted you, but just like before, your eyes couldn’t help but stare. Instead of gold accents it was green, something of which matched his hair, recently dyed too. The temperature was only rising.

“Are you okay?” The ninja asks, cocking his head to the side, but he knew. The flushed face and blown irises was all the indication he needed. 

You nod in response, peeling your eyes off of the ninja’s chest and meeting his. The look he gave you only made you shy away in embarrassment. He smirked, glancing over at his brother who only rolled his eyes in response. 

Both Shimada’s were making you weak, and unnaturally so. Sure, you had feelings for the older brother, but now the younger brother? Oh boy… 

Genji places his hand on your shoulder and turns you back around to face the group. His hand squeezes slightly before letting go, and the lack of feeling made you silently sigh. 

Hanzo, on the other hand, moved to stand next to you, closing you into a possibly troublesome situation if both Shimada's wanted to deal with your flushed stated.

[starqueensthings]

Enjoy your night, killer.

Summary: 2930 words. Crosshair steps outside looking for some fresh air. What he gets is a deathstick and some unexpected insight from an attractive stranger.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader. No mention of reader’s or reader’s friend’s gender. Some minor mentions of reader’s appearance (dimples, painted nails, sandalled feet, and a leather jacket.)

POV: 2nd, but from Crosshair’s perspective (this was fun as hell to write)

Rating: 18+ Nothing overtly explicit mentioned but the end gets suggestive as heck. Extensive mentions of smoking/drinking.

Warnings: None really. Dom!Cross is somewhat visible, but barely.

Thank you again to @staycalmandhugaclone for running my verbal diarrhea through a filter without complaint, and making my work postable 🧡

The darkness of the hour was masked almost entirely by the contrasting luminosity of a dozen colourful neon signs; the raucous din of chatter and music that erupted every time a door opened into the night cloaking their perpetual chorus of buzzing. 79’s, the clone bar, sat at the very east end of the strip, though thanks to the neighbouring dozen-or-so bars zigzagging down the street, the patronage that visited the area was likely the most diverse anywhere in the galaxy.

When the squad rendezvoused back at the ship earlier in the day, Wrecker had wasted no time pleading with Hunter to permit them a night of ‘nourishment’. After six straight successful missions, including a particularly messy one this morning that lead to a dislocated shoulder on Crosshair’s part, the sergeant had little choice but to concede and grant his brothers a few hours of delectation before their next objective would take them across the galaxy to another desolate planet.

Crosshair, riddled by the persistent ache that he refused to satiate with an injection, was not at all in the mood for the crowd tonight; his head was pounding, his shoulder was sore, his heels were blistered. He’d have much preferred to remain behind on the ship, as the warm embrace of an unreasonably long shower, void of the sporadic knocks and irksome reminders that ‘the hot water needs to be shared equally’ from his always-democratic brother, would have likely been exactly what he needed to turn his mood around. But Echo had also expressed the desire to remain aboard, and the verbose recollection of events that he unfailingly insisted on uttering aloud to himself and anyone else that would listen, seemed like the greater of two evils for Crosshair’s agitated brain.

The sniper had managed to put up with almost two hours of anarchy inside the bar; he’d even forced himself to partake by downing a couple glasses of whiskey, and while they succeeded in moderately placating the pain in his shoulder, they’d done nothing to stabilize his mood.

“Um, excuse me—” His head snapped suddenly to the left in the direction of the voice that had startled him, “—you wouldn’t happen to have a lighter would you?”

Lost in the recollection of this morning’s mission-gone-sour, he had been blind to your invasion of the quiet alley in which he’d been seeking a moment of respite. Unlike the two companions that flanked you on either side, you appeared largely unaffected by the mist of cold drizzle that had started falling from the dark sky. Your eyes were on him expectantly, though while the glassy surface perfectly reflected the orange glow of neon from the sign across the street, it was the unexpected beauty of your eyes that gave him pause.

The tail end of your eyebrow lifted slightly in response to his silence, a hint of a smile pulling up the corner of your lips.

Crosshair swallowed against the strange feeling that lurched in his stomach as he met your gaze, before reaching behind him into the smallest pouch on his belt and retracting the lighter that he’d been meaning to toss away for weeks. “All yours,” he managed to force out, extending it towards you.

A grin erupted on your face as you thanked him, and the sudden appearance of two charming dimples on either side of your mouth tossed him headfirst into a sense of captivation and curiousity. He shifted his gaze deliberately away from you, and returned his arms to their entangled position across his chest as you fitted a deathstick between your lips and clicked the lighter into action.

“Eugh…” The sudden, disgusted intonations from your companions stole his attention back almost immediately, and he fought to stifle an eye roll as, in an effort to clear the new cloud of smoke, they began dramatically swatting at the air around their faces.

“We’ll just meet you there,” they chorused to you, waiting only long enough for you to nod in acknowledgement before departing the quiet of the alley and crossing the street with their noses in the air.

His eyes returned to you, curious to see your reaction to being seemingly abandoned in the company of a stranger with blasters on his hips and a rifle on his back, but you remained as unaffected by his companionship as you were by the drizzle, happily pulling another drag from the deathstick pinned between your fingers.

“Some friends,” he mumbled, gesturing to the pair of retreating bodies with a jerk of his head.

“They are, believe it or not,” you answered with a small smirk, crossing your ankles below you and wrapping your idle arm around the front of your body. “They’re just fed up with me promising that I’ll quit smoking, and then immediately lighting one up.”

The way that your lips embraced each word as they left your mouth, enamored him in a way that he couldn’t properly comprehend in that moment, and he had to mentally fight to process your sentiments while the pulling sensation in his gut intensified. The sheen blanketing your skin from each passing second of feeble rain was capturing the bright luminescence from the sign above, bathing you in a warm glow that sent goosebumps down his neck. But the master of composure masked his growing desire for you with knitted brows and the ghost of a smirk. He flicked the toothpick across his lips, discreetly caressing your features with his sharp eyes.

“What’s with the toothpick?” you quizzed, breaking the silence that ensued in the wake of his forgotten response.

He clamped the soggy strip of wood between his molars, keeping it secured in place while his lips parted to reply. “Trying to quit smoking,” he mumbled, gesturing with a flick of his eyes to the glowing embers pinned between your painted fingertips.

“Hmm,” you hummed through a knowing smirk, deftly flicking ash off the shrinking deathstick. “Is it working?”

Crosshair scoffed a small laugh, the tension in his brows relaxing as a smile played across his lips. “It was,” he answered. “Until about a minute ago.”

You matched his laughter with a snicker of your own, sending another wave of goosebumps across his skin. The pounding of his heart in his ears went ignored, as the only current recipient of his attention was the portion of your bottom lip that had disappeared between your teeth by means of a subconscious, gentle nibble.

“Let’s split this one,” you spoke, breaking his languor and extending your hand into the space between them. “We can’t rightfully admit to ‘smoking a deathstick’ if we each only had half, right?”

He thought fleetingly of Tech and what he would have said if he’d witnessed your flawless manipulation of logic. The image of his brothers already magnified eyes widening to an unnatural size flashed in Crosshair’s mind only momentarily, before the flick of your eyebrow banished all other coherent thought.

“Twist my arm,” he answered with a smirk, pulling the toothpick from his teeth and flicking it onto the ground.

His skin brushed against yours as he collected the deathstick from your clutches, and the iron grip that had encapsulated around the depths of his gut when you first spoke gave his stomach an almighty twist, as if trying to wring water from a sponge. He brought the butt to his lips and inhaled, thankful that his mind had the unconscious wherewithal to complete the motion without requiring deliberate thought as his composure threatened to unravel.

“You a bounty hunter?” you asked him, your glimmering eyes dancing up and down his armoured figure.

“Soldier,” he answered quietly, letting the smoke stew in his lungs for an extended moment before releasing it into the night. “Trooper… Clone… Killer… take your pick.”

“Killer?” you repeated with a grimace, retrieving the death stick that he extended back out to you. “That’s a little grim.”

“Grim, but true,” he answered, his words leaving his mouth more soberly than he had intended. “It’s all I really know how to do.”

You ran your free hand along your forehead, absentmindedly brushing away the moisture that was beginning to collect as seconds in the drizzle turned into minutes. “You don’t seem pleased about it…” you probed, tipping your head slightly and looking at him inquisitively.

A shrug of the shoulders was all the response he could muster for in that moment, an unprecedented feeling of vulnerability and exposure began to wash over him. It was as if your twinkling eyes had an inhuman ability to see deep inside of him; as if the small, persistent smile on your lips held all the power that it needed to disassemble him.

“Well… we’re all killers in some way, aren’t we?” Your eyes followed your fingers as they passed the shrinking remainder of the deathstick back to him to finish off, your words bathed in a contrasting mixture of reassurance and uncertainty. “We’ve all had to kill parts of ourselves to survive.”

Crosshair paused, his hand hovering in front of his mouth and smoke wafting past his eyes as the profundity of your words rendered him momentarily flummoxed. Who were you? And how was it possible that, in less than two sentences, you had both soothed and baffled him? Less than two sentences had seemingly told him everything he needed to know about you, while simultaneously inciting an intense curiousity as to exactly why you would believe in such a notion.

A droplet of water running down the side of his face broke his stupor, and he hurried to insert the deathstick between his lips. He cleared his throat quietly, debating if he dare ask the question poised and waiting on his tongue. “Which parts are those?” It left his mouth softly and free of motive, but you still glanced back at him with mild shock and apprehension on your features.

“Well… my lungs to start.” You answered almost as tactfully as you had when you twisted the logic of sharing a deathstick, though the ghost of vulnerability remained etched into the subtle crease between your brows despite of the smile dancing across your lips.

A sudden thunderous wave of noise broke the following breath as the door of the bar below the neon orange sign opened, filling the street with the booming sound of grungy music and sporadic shrieks of inebriated laughter. Your friend’s head and shoulders appeared a moment later, their eyes narrowed slightly as they peered through the mist for any sign of you. Barely audibly over the sheer volume of the music, they called for you. The sound of your name reverberated into the corners of Crosshair’s mind louder and more thoroughly than any subwoofer in any dingy bar that he’d ever been in.

You acknowledged the summons with a small wave of your hand and a thumbs up, before turning your attention back to the sniper who averted his eyes immediately, coyly trying to disguise the fact that you were like a flame to the moth of desire in him.

“Well… thanks for the light,” you simpered with a wink, taking a few steps backwards and away from him. “And the chat.”

Budding disappointment yanked the pitiful remains of a smirk from his slender face, replacing it with a tormented scowl. He was flooded with the overwhelming desire to follow you out of the alley, into the bar across the road, off the planet… hell, anywhere. Anywhere with you… but he gathered the resolve to resist, knowing his prolonged absence had already likely triggered an alarm in Hunter’s hyperawareness. Despite every cell in his body protesting his restraint, sending tingles through his limbs as his very atoms vied desperately to jump ship from his body for yours, he remained stoic and unmoving.

Your lip returned to its nestle between your teeth, your gaze stealing the breath from his smoky lungs. It felt a little like a standoff that he hadn’t been prepared for, both of you seemingly paused and waiting to see if he would be impulsive enough to follow you. Indecision surged through him in waves, and still his body refused to move.

“Here.” You lobbed him the half-empty pack of deathsticks, resuming your slow backwards steps away from him. “Maybe you’ll be the reason I finally give up the habit.” Crosshair caught it nimbly with one hand, his eyes still locked on yours as he fought the silent, internal battle of his next move.

“Maybe you’ll be the reason I pick it up again,” he cooed back at you, pocketing the gift. Your head tipped back as a laugh left your mouth like music.

“Enjoy your night, killer,” you quipped. He stood up straight as you finally turned away from him, crossing the street in a jog and disappearing into the depths of the rowdy bar.

Crosshair watched you go, an incompressible tornado of emotion coiling in his gut: disappointment, regret, longing, confusion, bewilderment, vulnerability, curiosity, lust, indecision. The harmless drizzle intensified to a light rain, droplets landing heavily against his armour in metallic thunks. The crowd on the street dispersed immediately, everyone too eager to preserve their fancy outfits and whatever was left of their decency from being further dismantled by the downturn in weather. Crosshair stayed rooted to the spot, unable to rid himself of your retreating image… unable to rid his mind of your words: “We’re all killers in some way, aren’t we?”

A heavy sigh stole over him, and he shook his head gently in an effort to clear it as he reached back around to his belt and retrieved the gift. He flicked the top up of the carton up with his thumb, silently vowing to himself that he’d discard whatever was left in the pack in the morning, when a scribbled line of loopy writing caught his eye.

On the underside of the lid, you had scribbled what looked like a com frequency number. Crosshair’s heart leapt at the sight of the breadcrumb… the opportunity… the chance to do and say everything he immediately regretted not doing and not saying as you jogged away from him.

He lifted his arm immediately, typing your frequency numbers into the comlink on his forearm. He stared at the blue light with intensity, waiting for the static to clear, for you to pick up.

“That was fast.” You voice, distorted only slightly by the vocabulator, pulled a smirk onto his face immediately. The booming sound of the music from your end of the line was filling the alleyway, and filling him with a determination.

“Get back here,” he demanded to the blue light on his arm.

You did not immediately answer, and he waited with a held breath as the sound of the music continued to fill the void of your response. But then, after what felt like an eternity…

“Be right there, killer.”

The blue light disappeared from his wrist as you ended the transmission. With eyes glued to the door across the road, Crosshair pulled a deathstick from the pack in his hand, fitted it between his teeth and lit it.

Through the cloud of smoke, he saw the door open and you appeared framed in its opening. He watched, blood pounding in his ears again, as you locked eyes with him and stepped out from under the canopy. You splashed through a small puddle as you crossed the road, seemingly undeterred by the wetness seeping around your sandaled toes. Crosshair dragged heavily on the deathstick in his mouth, his mind frantically trying to formulate what he would say when you approached. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, the mere absence of you and the possibility of a reunion blinding him to all other thought.

Breath began to leave his lungs in pants as you flung your damp hair to the other side of your head. You were mere steps away now, eyes alight and blazing, sending wave after wave of desire through his body.

He pulled the deathstick from his lips and tossed it unceremoniously into the puddle that had formed on the ground in front of him, and when you were near enough, he stuck his hand out, grabbed a fistful of your jacket and pulled you against him.

His lips descended on yours forcefully, full of passion and unsaid sentiments. He could taste smoke, but whether it be from your tongue or his, he didn’t know and it didn’t matter. Not a muscle in your body showed an inkling of resistance as he forced your lips further apart, keeping you pulled tightly against his armoured body with his grip on your collar. You conceded the plea of his tongue immediately, your hands moving upwards to grip the forearm that had you pulled so tightly against him.

As his tongue entered your mouth, he pulled you back into the alley, and slowly backed you against the cold durasteel wall. Heavy huffs of air left your mouth as he worked his lips across your jaw. Your hands left his arm, the fingers of your right hand digging into the collar of his chest plate and roughly pulling him harder against you, while the other reached up to cup his jaw and redirect his lips back to yours. He wedged a thigh between your legs and released his grip on your collar, yanking the zipper down on your jacket and snaking his hands under the material. His long, powerful fingers clutched at your waist as if the very feeling of your body in his hands provided him with life. “Wanna get out of here?” he stammered through wet, open-mouthed kisses.

“Yes,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips trailed down your neck. “Go hail us a cab.”