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nomorefstogive · 6 months ago

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Through Love, Perfection. r/PrimarchGF and Female Primarch AU inspired story.

Hello all, this is a ficlet I made recently that I thought I would share here, I copy pasted it from the word doc hence the author's notes and such, that said please enjoy and let me know what you think of this mess of an idea.

P.S. Muse is the fan name given to female Fulgrim's lover by the community at r/PrimarchGF. I have gone ahead and made them gender neutral for this fic, though I might make them female in future ones.

Author’s Note: Well, this is certainly a surprise, we have to admit that we never thought the day would come when we would write for the 40k fandom as, despite our own fondness for the setting, we lack an enormous amount of knowledge on it and simply did not know where to start with ideas for it.

And then we saw a most interesting post on the r/GrimDank Subreddit, a post that opened doors to vistas untouched and undreamdt of by us, each one bringing forth more and more ideas as we watched a new setting grow.

Ladies, gentlemen, non-gendered individuals, those between, and all those others, we welcome you one and all to our first fic for the PrimarchGF AU!

Created by the wonderful community of the namesake subreddit, after we began to grow a little too large to be contained on r/GrimDank, and with the foundations of it having been laid down by the wonderfully talented u/Sweet_Older-Sister, this is a setting that has such potential for angst and wholesomeness, that we would be foolish to not throw our hat into the ring.

This particular ficlet, is inspired by the reddit post found at https://www.reddit.com/r/Grimdank/comments/1cr6hfl/it_would_work_and_you_know_it/ made by: AAABIXIX. All credit to this idea goes to them, though I feel my own take on it is vastly different than what they, or myself from when I initially thought of it, had in mind.

We also have to thank the community of the PrimarchGF Subreddit and of Cryptek-01, who has gathered a list of the communities names, for the names used for the female Primarchs, link to post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/comments/1cypo6g/i_made_a_list_of_names_for_femprimarchs_and_their/

Yet, as with all our tales, it seems that it has a mind of its own, what started as a simple tale of vanity being both bane and hero, became something else entirely, and while we are yet confused as to how we got here, we hope you all enjoy this mess of a tale.

That said, we feel we should make clear that we are quite inexperienced with the characters of 40k, at least in terms of writing their personalities and such, and so we have given our own twist to some of them in this tale.

Similarly, we have also taken the liberty of altering the timeline, and editing the events that took place across said timeline to better fit with the image present within our mind for the setting of this short tale.

If such heavy OOCness and AU disturbs your reading experience we apologize, and hope that you at least take a quick look at the r/PrimarchGF subreddit and at its illustrious prophetess’ profile, please go and show her some love my friends she deserves it for blessing us with this.

If you are yet here, and have steeled yourself for whatever form of atrocity against literature it is that we have written, then we thank you for giving us a chance and hope you enjoy our little tale of-

Through Love, Perfection.

TW for Implied Sexual content and mentions of blood and gore, along with a few mentions of violent thoughts. I think that is all.

“In All Things, Perfection.” Thus was the Creed of the Empress's Daughters, and of the Matriarch who led them forth across the stars to fulfill the great vision her mother had shown to her children once all had been gathered and their crusade readied, to usher forth a perfect golden age for mankind once more.

Yet this creed did not just extent to the fields of war, upon which they left tableau’s of horror and vistas of carnage of such grandeur that none could deny that their talents in war were of sublime status, but also to all other such things that their Matriarch had taught them.

Poetry, sculpture, painting, dance, singing, it was easier to list a field within which the Matriarch of the Empress’s Daughters did not excel, and which she had taught her children to similarly excel, the Phoenician having guided her progeny to such a degree that were one not to see them in their armor, or the sanguine wake left behind them, they would be scarce to believe such marvelous artisans were instruments of hellish carnage.

Yet, for all that she aspired to perfection ever did it elude her reaching hands, slipping free as an oil coated serpent, stalling but long enough to mock her with its flickering forked tongue before once more eluding her despite how hard she had pursued it.

‘Never enough, always better, always better, it could always be better’, such were the thoughts that echoed within her head near to every hour of each day, mocking her with coy and pompous voices that drove her ever forward, desperate to at last achieve that which had eluded her.

And perhaps, in another, much darker timeline, it would have been that which had lead to her fall from grace and descent into wanton hedonism and debauchery, her mind warping and being rent asunder under the seductive whispers of the servants of Chaos.

Yet, not in this one.

For as she rose from her bed, skin bare of cover but the bites and scratches that she had willed to not heal for she wished to relish in their delightful aches and stings a bit longer, the saint mix of painful pleasure being enough to help her awaken swiftly as she sat about her preparations for what was to come.

Below the great fleet that was her children’s armada, there laid a world that they had recently brought back into the fold of the Imperium, no blood having need be shed as the people below, long alone and afraid, had welcomed them as heroes and saviors, having rid them of long standing oppressors of the nearby worlds before their arrival.

And thus they had brought the world into the fold much sooner than they had expected to, indeed, they had anticipated much steeper resistance given the neighboring worlds own acts of futile rebellion, though they were not complaining for now they not only had time to rest and relax before they resumed their campaign, but also to indulge in celebrations due to commence the next day.

So it was that across the ships that made up their fleet, not only were preparations for their next push forward commencing, but so were preparations for the celebration to come as the Astartes chose their outfits and and cosmetics for the party, or relaxed and allowed for themselves to indulge in their arts for a while before they had to depart to the world below and then forward once more.

With fingers more dexterous than one would assume given their size, and an equally startling silence, the Phoenician opened the great dark wooden wardrobe in which she had carefully arranged a pair of clothes for the celebration to come, looking over them and making certain that they were in immaculate condition.

Upon her satisfaction of their status of being free of flaw, Fulgrim closed the doors to her dresser and turned towards her vanity, swiftly and silently striding towards it as she looked over the gathered cosmetic items and jewelry, each perfectly arranged and neatly ordered for their usage in the coming days.

Everything was prepared, their clothes were selected and sealed up such that they would not acquire any wrinkles before the day of the celebration on the planet below them, cosmetics and jewelry neatly ordered, and yet still…

Even as she looked over the clothes that she had so meticulously selected, the makeup designed to make her already striking features even more radiant, and the jewelry meant to make her and her other half as radiant as the stars, she could still feel as though something was missing.

A sigh slipped past her lips as she brought her hand to her forehead, fingers gently kneading the skin as she closed her eyes and tried to focus on what it was that would complete their outfits, what it was that would make them perfect.

Violet eyes slowly opened, and raked over the room, pausing but to alight with a warm glow of joy as she saw her darling’s form concealed by blankets and pillows laying on their bed, no doubt yet still worn out from their actions the night previous.

Unbidden, a chuckle slipped past her lips as the image of her lover, adorned with bites and bruises looking up at her with a pouting face as they weakly beat on her chest with their hands.

“You said…my turn to top…” Her hand had to cover her lips to prevent her chuckles from growing in volume as she recalled the absolutely adorable way her lover had tried and failed to convince her to let them continue so they could have their chance on top even as they drifted off to sleep beneath her as she watched with smug delight.

She truly had meant to let them be on top, but they were just so adorable as they writhed beneath her, how could she have passed up the opportunity to savor their expressions, their taste, their-

Fulgrim shook her head, while normally she would take the chance to revel in the memories of last night, and perhaps to give her lover something beautiful to wake up to as her moans brought them into wakefulness and into her arms, she yet still felt that nagging sensation and so she instead allowed her gaze to wander once more.

Faintly, she felt a sensation, as though a gentle caress upon her cheek by a silken hand unseen, that bid her to turn to look at the display case that rested across the room from her, and the treasure held within it.

A prize won through blood and tears and misery, and one that she had taken quite the fancy to at first sight, even if her darling disagreed with her on its beauty, claiming that it clashed horribly with her armor and that the flaming blade she had forged with Ferrus long ago made her much more radiant, indeed it was because of that disagreement, and the threat of involuntary abstinence for several weeks, that she had not taken to wearing the blade as she had wished.

Of course, there was reason beyond mere vanity that lent credence to her darling’s desire for her to avoid the blade, as not only was it of Xeno origin, but it also gave off a sensation that, while to her was appealing, was to her beloved revolting, and thus her caution on the matter.

In truth, she had meant to have it sealed in the storage bay, but she had decided that it was safest where she could see it, no one could get into her chambers without her or her Muse knowing, and even if they did, they would find quite the marvelous surprise awaiting them when they did open the container without the proper key.

Something she had no interest in contending with, as she unconsciously began to open the container and reach out her hand, a part of her yearn, begging her in silent desperation, to touch the hilt of the sword, to give in to that hypnotic allure that so sweetly beckoned her to-

“What did I say would happen if you touched that sword before it got looked at?” The Matriarch of the Empress’s Children jolted slightly at the voice that came from the corner of the room, her hand recoiling from the case she had been reaching for as eyes the color of violet lightning turning to alight upon the form that sat upon the bed, swaddled in blankets of silken cloth and rich fur, and surrounded by plush pillows easily double the length of their body as they leaned against the headboard of the titanic bed.

The Matriarch's lips curled up into a smile as she saw her Muse adjusting themselves ever so slightly, a low groan slipping from their lips as they did so, eyes keen beyond all form of human understanding easily able to pierce through the shadows that concealed their face from the blankets draped over them and to meet the pair of rather tired looking eyes that stared back at her with no small amount of irritation present.

She could not help but allow her smile to grow a little bit as she recalled exactly why it was that her other half was so weary and covering themself in their blankets to ward off the chill of her room, and more importantly gazing at her with such a delicious look upon their face.

Truly it was no fault of hers that her lover was so breathtaking, and what kind of connoisseur of art would she be if she did not show such a marvelous piece of artwork the reverence it was due as she laid mark upon mark of affirmation and adoration upon her lover’s bare form until no longer could they deny their own beauty and worth.

So deep was the Matriarch's recollection of the previous evening’s events, or perhaps it had been the entire day, neither of them could reliably tell and none of the Matriarch’s daughters would dare to interrupt them during a moment of passion unless it was absolutely necessary, several bolter rounds and a flaming sword flung at them the first and only time they had done so insuring their privacy from then on, that she missed her lover reiterating their question to her several times.

Beneath the cloak of silk, fur, and cloth eyes narrowed in irritation as once more the Muse of the Phoenician repeated their query to their lover, taking acute notice of the both the absence of a forthcoming reply and of just where it was that their lover’s eyes were lingering on as they calmly took a deep breath before-

“Fulgrim.”

They called out again, this time their tone was coated in both no small amount of exasperation, a faint undercurrent of irritation further making clear their feelings on the matter of their lover having lost herself to her own fantasies as opposed to answering them.

The Matriarch felt a not so small chill run down her spine, mind racing as she tried to recall just what it was her lover had said, though much to her despair there came no light of clarity or spark of realization, something which her lover quickly registered as well as they began to shift and stir.

The Matriarch could not stop herself from licking her lips at the scene of her lover wearing silken blankets as a gown to cover themself as they began to stride towards her, their movements slow and, at least to the Matriarch, ominous in their approach, as the formation of a thunder head afore a storm, or the faintest hum of wrongness that heralded the Materium and Immaterium being rent asunder as Chaos sallied forth to assault them once more.

As bare feet glided delicately across the richly carpeted floor, the silken sheets shifting and swaying in a spectral breeze, the delicate motions of silk upon bare skin making Fulgrim swallow once more as she watched with dreadful anticipation as her lover drew near, each second an eternity as her lover’s eyes met her own with veiled intentions that made the Matriarch’s heart thunder.

The thundering of her heart and the racing of her blood did not to drown out the siren song of silken sin that caressed her ears as her lover at last drew to stand before her, barely a third of the towering Matriarch’s height and yet somehow managing to project such a presence that even she, the most beautiful and most might Phoenician, felt as though it were her that was the smaller of the pair.

With hands so impossibly small in comparison to her own that barely could the delicate fingers wrap around but two of her fingers, let alone her entire hand, her lover gripped her hands and directed them to where they belonged, one to their shoulder and one to their hip as they bid her lean down such that their lips could meet, the Muse assuming the role of conductor and director of this intimate dance for several moments, lasting far longer than a normal mortal should have been able to without breaking for breath before they at last parted.

Eyes of violet and eyes concealed in shade both alighted on the thin strand of saliva that linked their lips for but the briefest of moments before it parted, the pair taking a moment to regain themselves before their gazes met once more, Fulgrim’s apologetic and her Muse’s own somewhat calmed in their irritation, though yet still narrowed.

“Apologies darling, I lost myself in marveling at the wonder befo-” Fulgrim found her words cut off as a hand lifted to place itself against her face, index finger gently coming to rest against her lips in a gesture of silence, shadowed eyes narrowing further as the Matriarch was unable to fight her urge to take the tip of the finger into her lips and begin to suckle upon it as her lover heaved a sigh before speaking.

“Why is it that everything that comes out of your mouth is either flirtatious or horribly annoying dear?” The Muse murmured to themself in question, the towering Matriarch merely smirking once more at the query as she indulged herself in suckling on the finger between her lips for a moment longer before she released it as she pulled her lover close to her, the hands not resting on each others hips moving to intertwine as they looked into one another’s eyes.

“I don’t hear you complaining, my dear.” The Phoenician said as her smirk turned to a smile as she saw her lover sigh once more, the corners of their own lips curling up into a small smile of their own as they leaned in to rest their forehead against their lovers own, their eyes drifting shut for several moments as the pair basked in the silent affirmation of their bond.

Yet, even as she held the one so dear to her oh so close, humming a melodious if nonsensical tune low in her throat as she idly swayed along with her darling Muse, their came to the Phoenician a sensation of something missing, a nagging and itching sensation that made her feel no small amount of unease, though she allowed none of it to permeate through her as she held her love close.

It would not do to frighten her Muse, least of all over what could more than likely be nothing but her forgetting something once again, something she felt had begun to do more commonly of late…hmm…perhaps she should consider taking some time off and taking her lover to visit one of the worlds in the Imperium, she had heard that one was soon to be celebrating a festival of some kind, surely she cou-

“If you keep thinking so hard, you’re going to hurt yourself and miss the party tomorrow my love.” Fulgrim sighed as she opened her eyes to look at her lover, faux hurt coloring her face for a moment as she watched her lover arch and eyebrow at her, their gaze daring her to speak up, a dare she could not possibly turn down.

“Oh? But if I get hurt then surely you would stay with me my Muse. Afterall, who would be there to nurse me back to health if not you my dear?” Fulgrim asked her lover with a delicate and pleading tone, eyes wide and innocent, or at least as innocent as she could make them, though her lover only blinked at the scene before them before the leveled an expression as flat as the plains her sister had taken to riding with her children and lover across of late.

“Hmm, perhaps I should ask Bile to take a look at you after all. If you think I am going to miss watching your sisters making fools of themselves as they try to court their lovers, then you are madder than those fools who think Rus is the dominant one in her relationship.” The Muse could not stop the low chuckle that slipped past their lips as they saw Fulgrim look at them with a faintly betrayed expression on her face, though soon she joined them in their chuckling as she thought of the spectacles that were sure to occur at the party to come.

Indeed she could not fault them for wishing to not miss the spectacles to come, especially given the whispers she had heard regarding the disaster that was Regalia Dorn being drug their by her own lover, well that and her Muse had a valid point regarding her wild sister, the woman wore a damn collar under her armor wherever she went for their Mother’s sake!

Soon it was that their chuckles tapered off into a comfortable silence as the pair leaned against one another in silence, unconsciously moving to rest their foreheads against one another in a somewhat awkward pose, though neither cared for how they looked so long as they could enjoy the feeling of one another's warmth.

Yet eventually there came the time when the Muse pulled back with a low sigh once more slipping past their lips, Fulgrim letting out a low whimper as she chased them once more, only to be halted by a finger resting itself against her forehead as her lover spoke up once more.

“And speaking of the party, I thought you were going to be dressing to impress, especially given how Ferrus has been boasting about the beauty of the set of armor her assistant and her have forged. Or have you decided to take pity on your sister and allow her this victory my love?” The words came with a slightly teasing lilt to them, though there was an underlying seriousness to the words that lent weight enough to them for the Matriarch to focus on them.

The words prompted Fulgrim to blink at her lover in confusion as she turned to look over her attire once more in the mirror, standing to her full height as she pulled her lover against her as she pictured what they would look like at the gala.

“I don’t understand darling. With what I have in mind you and I will certainly be the ones to steal the show, assuming Mother does not deign to show up.” The Pheonician said as she mentally pictured the attire she had in mind over her lover, a perfect match for her own attire, and one that she had enjoyed the challenge of making, especially given that it had one the approval of the critic that her Muse could be.

Indeed, it was that critical nature that lead her to lending her ears to her lover’s words, the very nature that had drawn her to them when they had critiqued one of her works before her as her daughters watched on in shock at the scene of the fragile mortal critiquing their perfectionist mother’s work to her own face.

They had expected her to snap at them, to yell and curse or draw her blade and decapitate them, and instead had been rewarded with the sight of their mother asking for the counsel of the smaller figure in regards to how to improve her next work, something which had heralded the start of their relationship.

And now she once more welcomed their judgment, though she had to bite down the urge to snap at them, something which made her brow furrow further, she must be more stressed than she had previously thought.

‘Yes,’ Fulgrim thought to herself. ‘Once this gala is done, we'll take some time off to rest and unwind, maybe we’ll even be able to see that play we have been looking at, I’ll have tickets for the three of…no two of us booked.’ A hand came to rest upon her brow as she heaved another sigh, yes a break would do her good, especially if she was starting to think like that.

Perhaps she should corner Sanguinia, Volkana, and Magna and ask them their counsel on just what it was that could be plaguing her, the three had long proven themselves the most adept at helping their sisters find what it was that was plaguing them in terms of emotions and thoughts.

“Fulgrim!” The uncharacteristically sharp tone of her Muse’s voice caused the Matriarch to jolt once more, her head shaking from side to side as she re-focused herself on the present and her lover, who was now gazing at her with open concern on their face.

“Sorry dear, my mind wandered for a moment.” The Matriarch said as she offered her lover a smile, trying to reassure them and herself at the same time, the unease she had been feeling rapidly vanishing as she took in the concern and care in her lover’s eyes as they reached up and delicately laid their hand against her cheek.

“That…has been happening too much of late.” Her Muse narrowed their eyes at her as they gently rubbed their thumb against her cheek for several moments before they closed their own eyes and offered up a weary sigh as they shook their head and took a moment to compose themself before speaking up once more.

“Once this is done we’re taking vacation, our children can handle any matters that come up, and if it comes to it Ferrus and her brats owe us enough favors that we could have them take over any campaigns that crop up while we are off for months to come.” Fulgrim could not stop a chuckle from slipping past her lips at the last bit of her lover’s statement as she leaned down to rest her forehead against her lover’s once more, sighing as her Muse let out a low hum as the pair allowed their eyes to drift shut for a moment before they parted once more.

“I was just considering the same thing my dear, we could visit your home world and see what new travesties they have allowed into their ‘Grand Gallery’ surely it would be an entertaining visit.” Fulgrim could not stop herself from chuckling once more as her lover narrowed her eyes at her in a scathing glare at the remark about both her homeworld and their gallery.

“I hope for your sake my dear,” Fulgrim could not stop the shiver that ran down her at the delicious sensations that hearing that voice turn from gentle silk to a frigid whip crack, “that you solely mean my coworkers allowed travesties into the gallery, I would hate to have to discipline you otherwise.”

Fulgrim could not stop the smile that began to form on her face as she looked down at the narrowed glare her lover was giving her, a gaze of such frigid sharpness that it would drive any normal being to quake in unease and dread, she had even seen it make her daughters feel unease and that was no small feat, that left a shudder of desire wracking her frame.

Though soon it was that the smile that adorned the Matriarch’s face twisted in a look of faux hurt as her lover reached up to flick her forehead as their own lips curled into a slightly vengeful smirk as they spoke up once more.

“Besides, idiots they may have been, and likely still are, at least they know what style is, something you seem to have forgotten my dear.” Fulgrim pouted at her lover’s words as she locked eyes with her, noting the way her lover let their gaze travel from her violet eyes to the blade that rested on the stand beside her mirror, the target of her comment being readily apparent.

“Oh? And what does that mean, my Muse?” Fulgrim spoke up, her tone much sharper and colder than she had any intention of allowing it to be, though it seemed to do not to her lover but make their lips purse into a thin frown as their eyes narrowed into a frigid glare for several moment before they sighed and spoke up.

“Look in the mirror, take a decent look at what you have in mind for tomorrow,” Fulgrim did so, her eyes closing slightly as she pictured the rich violet and cream colored dress she would wear, adorned with the sapphire and golden filigree designs she had spent so long designing, and the dark sapphire and cream colored clothing of her lover that they had both worked on for so long.

Try as she might, she could not picture what it was that was making her lover so concerned for the coming gala, at least that was until her lover once more spoke up to her as they walked off towards their closet and began to rummage through it.

“You’re picturing the clothing, the cosmetics and jewelry correct? Likely imagining how you would look with that tasteless piece of metal at your side, again a flush of unbidden irritation that made the Matriarch have to bite her lip to still her tongue, but why should you settle for a simple metal blade when you could show off something like this…Oh, and happy early anniversary my love.”

Her Muse finished their statement as they pulled out a rather lengthy container that had been kept concealed in the depths of their closet, with both hands, they pulled out what appeared to be the base of a blade, the pommel a sapphire colored gem adorned with specks of silver and violet within it, the grip adorned with cream colored leather, each strand of the binding having been carefully inscribed with designs such that when layered together upon the finished product they gave the appearance of thunderbolts striking a sapphire sea that laid above the jeweled pommel.

Above the leather grip there was the guard of the blade, granted it was a rather unconventional one, not due to it being styled to resemble a pair of great wings made out of silver and gold with violets and sapphires carefully carved to form elegant sloping rings and bands, alongside of being used as highlights for the many feathers upon the great wings.

But rather the guards was odd, for the fact that its center most portion was shaped to resemble the form of the Muse themself, the great wings erupting from their back, their form being adorned with minute carvings and etching to make it as lifelike as possible, their lips spread into a loving smile that would gaze up at the women who wielded the blade.

And as for the blade itself, which, while upon first glance appeared to be already a masterwork of platinum and silver colored metal, each inch engraved with ornate designs and flowing markings, though of a far too slender a shape for such a sized hilt, there was yet one other facet to cement its wonder in those that beheld it.

It took but the faintest caress upon a hidden mechanism for their to come a humming and crackling sound, one that soon grew in intensity to such an extent that it would be hard to think, and if that was not enough than the brilliant radiance that came forth in the shape of a near blinding light of violet and sapphire electricity that formed into a blade of thunder and lightning that enveloped the smaller metal blade, the electricity triggering hidden mechanisms forged by Petra herself at their behest which made the blade hum and vibrate at such a frequency that not could stop the blade once it was swung.

For a moment longer the Muse gazed upon the blade, their lips curling upwards into a smile as they disabled the lightning of the blade as they turned to present the weapon to Fulgrim, a low chuckle leaving their lips as they saw the Matriarch gape in slight shock at what was being presented to her.

“This is-!” Fulgrim said nothing more as she immediately devoted all of her attention to the blade being held out to her, eyes wide and hungering as she ravenously took in all of the details of the weapon she was being presented with, her heart beginning to hammer as her thoughts raced at the masterwork she was being presented with.

“You would not believe how hard it was to make that thing without you figuring it out, even with so many of us working on it.” Their words made Fulgrim look at them in silent question as they smiled before they continued.

“I had each of your sisters help me with it, Petra, Hestia, Ferrus, helped with forging it, then Petra and Ferrus made the motors and engines for the lightning while Hathor, Aurelia, and oddly enough Kassandra and Morrigan helped with the more intricate designs on the leather and carvings on it…their lovers largely just provided moral support and ideas for them.” Fulgrim’s lips had already parted into a gape of shock before her lover continued, their own lips having widened into a smile as they continued.

“The materials were located by Magna and Juno, and then they were retrieved by Freya, Alakhi, Volkana, and Corra, she was the one to provide the jewel for the pommel, while Magna and Aurelia blessed the sword with some rather powerful enchantments and wards to make sure no one but us can touch it and that is would not dull or rust.” And now her Muse’s smile reached blinding proportions as they continued yet again.

“Lastly, we had Atlanta stress test it by sparring with Freya, Morrigan, Leona, Regalia, and Cora to see if their differing styles would damage it, while the Twins helped with coming up with a way of hiding it from you, they were the ones running interference for most of the time we were making it, and when they weren't Sanguinia was, she is also the one who came up with the idea of the angel motif for the guard.” Her Muse finished, their own eyes shining with mirthful delight as they saw their lover’s silent gape as she looked over the blade she had been presented with.

With a trembling hand, the Matriarch reached out and gently plucked the blade from their hand, the instant her hand wrapped around the grip of the blade there came forth, unseen by the pair, the faintest hint of golden wisps of light that ever so softly brushed against her skin, bringing forth a sensation of calm and clarity that drove away the unseen hands groping at the Matriarchs essence.

Though neither saw this, for they were too enveloped in the moment as the Muse stared into her lover’s eyes, a low chuckle slipping past their lips as they reached out their hand and delicately wiped away the tears, smiling as Fulgrim looked up at them from where she had been inspecting the blade.

“I…I have…I think I need to sit down.” Fulgrim finished as she moved over to their shared bed, sitting down on it as she continued to look over the blade that her lover had presented to her as her mind raced with thoughts as she took in the weapon she held, her hand softly caressing the angel design on the guard for several moments before she lifted her head to look at her lover.

Her vision slightly blurry as she tried to choke out something, anything to say, only for nothing but a low whine to come out as her lover approached her, swaying their hips to the sides as they allowed for their cloak of blankets to fall and reveal their bare form.

With a smirk on their face, the Muse moved towards Fulgrim, prompting the Matriarch to set her new found sword on a nearby night stand as her Muse straddled her lap, their eyes shining with delight as they saw the Phoenician look at them with tears in her eyes and a slight quiver to her lips.

“What do you think my love? Not only does it go wonderfully with your dress, but you can also show it off to everyone else and boast about your lover and your sister's talents.” Her Muse leaned in once more, gently pulling Fulgrim down as they allowed their lips to delicately graze her ear, lightly blowing into it before they continued.

“Well, what’s your answer my love? That piece of metal that clashes with your attire, or something that shows off the talents of those who love you and compliments your attire perfectly, which one do you feel like taking now?” The Muse knew what answer they would receive, especially when they felt Fulgrim gently lay her hands on their hips.

For a moment, Fulgrim’s gaze flickered over to the Laer Blade, the pull normally tugging at her mind gone and allowing her to truly look at it, seeing the blade for the tasteless piece of sharpened metal that her lover had claimed it to be.

So her choice was already made when she allowed her gaze to flicker to the sword she had been gifted with before she returned her gaze to her lover, a silent nod giving her answer as her lover smiled in triumph as they leaned down to seize her lips with their own.

As hands began to wander, and lips hungrily devoured one another once more, the Muse allowed themself to smile as they thought of the faces of not only the poor fools that would be present at the Gala, but also of their homeworld's artisans when they saw a genuine masterpiece during their visit.

‘Oh yes,’ They thought as they felt their lover shift to be laying on her back as she pulled them atop her, hungrily pawing at their bare flesh, ‘we’ll show them what real beauty is.’ And with that last thought, they allowed themself to cease thinking as they indulged in their shared passion with their lover.

Line Break

The day of the Gala was, as with any celebration that Fulgrim and her legion were involved with, a day of semi-ordered madness and chaos across the entirety of the legion as the Astartes raced to and fro as they tried to make themselves ready for the celebration, their desire to one-up their fellow Astartes matched but by their desire to impress their mother and her lover.

It was amidst this scene of organized chaos that a particular example of lunacy took place, for the bedchambers of the Matriarch could be best likened to being caught within the embrace of a mad tempest as Fulgrim and her liver dashed to and fro to make sure they were properly prepared for the party to come, the pair having slightly overslept due to the previous day’s activities.

“Damnit, where did I put my necklace!?” The Muse called out from where they were busy searching through each of the drawers and shelves they could while Fulgrim herself was putting on her makeup, watching the scene out of the corner of her eye.

“Were you wearing it yesterday?” The Matriarch asked her lover as she finished placing her lipstick on, her gaze flickering over to where her make-up kit lay as she began to search for her eye-liner, though she paused when she noticed something out of-

“Aha!” Her darling called out from behind her as they at last spotted their platinum and sapphire necklace…atop a cabinet that was much too tall for them to reach, the sight making their left eye twitch as they tried to jump up to reach the chain, only to fail as they missed the chain by several inches.

“Could you help me get this damn thing when you’re done?” The Muse called out as they diverted their attention from their necklace and towards getting the last of their attire on, though they did pause when they realized that Fulgrim had not answered them.

The Muse lifted their head to see their lover looking over her cabinets and displays with a confused look upon her face, her brow furrowed as she seemed to be attempting to locate something for several moments before they called out once more and caused her to jolt her awake from her reverie.

“What’s wrong?” They asked of her as they began to put on the last few articles of clothing that Fulgrim had laid out for them as they awaited their lover’s reply, a low curse slipping past their lips as they messed up a knot for one of their shoes and had to redo it.

“Did you move that sword from Laer? I was going to have it sent to mother, but I can’t find it.” Fulgrim asked her liver as she glanced about in confusion, a sensation at the back of her mind telling her to search for it, to rend the room asunder to recover it, yet the feeling was fading with each passing second, diminishing in the time it took for her lover to offer her a confused look before they spoke up.

“My love, I wouldn’t have touched that damn thing if you had begged me on your hands and knees. I have standards after all.” Fulgrim rolled her eyes even as a fond smile crossed her face at her dear’s usual demeanor, the Matriarch shaking her head slightly as she quipped back to her lover.

“Standards? You? Didn’t you tell me that you would have to abandon those when we started dating my love?” Fulgrim could not stop herself from chuckling at the end of her reply as she recalled the thoroughly dumbfounded looks on the faces of those around them, well most of them as Ferrus had been too busy laughing herself into near unconsciousness as her own lover doubled over beside her.

“I did, and I stand by that I have had to drop many of them, such as my standards for getting enough sleep to awaken on time for something,” her Muse gave her a faux glare as their lips twitched upwards as they continued, “and also my standard for not waking up sore and covered in bruises and bites my dear.”

Fulgrim could not stop the laugh that slipped past her lips as she pushed aside the nagging sensation in her mind as she rose to her feet and approached her lover, smiling as she saw them narrow their eyes at her with suspicion, already planning any and all methods of avoiding her doing something that would make them any later than they would already likely be if the clamor breaking out across the ship was any indication.

Though the Muse found themself pleasantly surprised as their lover merely reached up and pulled their necklace from where it rested atop the cabinet, slowly striding towards them as the Muse reached out their hand for their necklace, only to be denied as Fulgrim held it out of their reach with a smirk on her face.

“Let me my dear,” Fulgrim said, a chuckle slipping past her lips as her lover once more narrowed their eyes at her wariness coming alight for several seconds before they offered a nod to the Matriarch, lifting up their hair so that she could clip the necklace on.

They realized their mistake the moment they saw Fulgrim’s eyes gleaming with mirth, her lips curling ever so slightly as she mouthed the words ‘Payback dear,’ to them as she leaned in and-.

“Fulgrim, don’t you-!” Their words were cut off as the Matriarch latched her lips onto their neck, targeting an area that would be concealed by their attire, provided it did not shift enough, as she began to suckle and nibble on the skin, her actions prompting a low moan and a shudder of pleasure to rack her lover’s frame as their hands, that had been trying to push her away, instead reached up to entangle themselves in her hair and pull her in-

Fulgrim pulled back, smirking as she heard a low whine slip from her lover’s lips, both at being denied further pleasure and at the Phoenician's actions, their eyes narrowing into a slightly clouded glare even as they pouted up at her.

Chuckling once more, Fulgrim placed their necklace on them before she turned to head back to her vanity and finish her own preparations, her lover’s murmurs of promises of vengeance for her unbidden attack upon their neck only serving to make her smile and chuckle, already anticipating what was to come both at the party and afterwards.

Though, she still wished she knew what became of that sword. Perhaps it had been knocked from its perch during her and her Muse’s actions last night, struck by some article of clothing or knocked down when their passions became such that they were tackling one another across the room and taking one another upon each surface they could.

Idly she shrugged to herself, she could search for it when they returned from the party, the worst case scenario being that she would have to find another gift for her mother and that she might one day find it collecting dust under a piece of furniture.

Still, as she finished putting on the last of her makeup, all while being given a gaze that promised vengeance by her Muse, she could not shake the feeling that something, some great and irrevocable change had occurred, yet for the life of her she could not figure out what it was.

‘A concern for another day,’ She thought to herself as she rose to her feet, her new sword finding its place at her side as she outstretched her arm to her lover, watching with a smirk as they yet glared at her as they took her hand and rose from the bed to walk with her.

She chuckled to herself as she saw her Muse fidgeting ever so slightly as they adjusted their clothes to try and hide the mark she had left upon them, already aware that the Matriarch would not let them cover it with concealer, her pride at showing off such a mark to others, and her lover’s own pride at it being shown off as well, preventing such an act.

“Come my dear, let’s make sure everyone else is ready.” Fulgrim said as the pair left their chambers and began to wander down to the shuttle bay of the ship, all thoughts of a missing blade soon being swept aside as they began the laborious task of ordering their children and making ready to depart for the celebration taking place on the world below them.

It was as they were waiting for the shuttles to take them down to the planet below that a thought struck Fulgrim, prompting her to turn to where her lover was working with several of their children to try and force some form of make up onto Bile’s face, the Apothecary fighting tooth and nail as they did so as she hurled curse and abuse upon them for their efforts, her lover eventually pulling back with a nod of approval as she motioned for them to let Bile go.

With a withering glare to the team before her, the Apothecary stalked off to seek asylum in the dark corners of the hanger, the Astartes parting to mingle with their sisters as they noted their Mother drawing near to her lover, the Matriarch chuckling as she saw her liver putting her makeup kit back into her purse before she looked at her.

“I knew she wasn’t going to be wearing any when she was dragged out of her room, so I came prepared.” Her Muse answered her questioning gaze, her words prompting a chuckle from the Matriarch as she met her gaze once more before she asked her the question that had been on her mind for some time.

“Actually darling, I was more curious as to what it was you offered my sisters to get their help with making this sword, nothing too precious I hope?” Fulgrim found herself surprised as her lover winced slightly at her words, their hands rising to cup their face as they let out a low groan before they let their hand fall to their side as they mumbled something under their breath.

Fulgrim blinked, already she could hear some of her daughters beginning to snicker at what they had just heard, and while she was tempted to join them, she wanted to be absolutely certain as to what it was she had just heard.

“What was that my love? I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up.” Fulgrim saw her lover narrow a glare at her for a moment before, for but a fleeting instant, a gleam came to inhabit their eyes, one that Fulgrim had come to both anticipate and dread, a gleam of mischief that typically ended with the words ‘I want to try something new,’ or ‘They wanted my opinion’.

A slight chill ran down Fulgrim’s spine as she looked at her lover, watching as the gleam faded and an exasperated look crossed their face as they spoke up, once more, their words prompting many to choke out chuckles or look at her in incredulous shock.

“Dating Advice. I had to offer those Ceramite headed fools you call family advice on dating, because apparently them and their daughters are all idiots on the subject, and by the fucking Empress was it fun,” The way she spat the word fun, as though it were the most vile thing she had ever tasted caused chuckles to begin to break out once more, Fulgrim finding herself fighting her own laughter as she looked at her lover.

“Surely it couldn’t have been that bad, right my dear?” Fulgrim asked, watching as her lover went still such that they could have been mistaken for a particularly breathtaking statue of lifelike design beyond anything else, that is if one were not to see the way their eyes shifted to lock directly with Fulgrim’s own, molten wrath blazing within them.

‘Oh dear, I think I made a mistake.’ Fulgrim had time to think before her lover’s lips parted, and a volcano of exasperated vitriol emerged, the gathered Astartes being treated to a front row seat for the cataclysmic eruption alongside of their mother as her Muse snapped.

“Not that bad? Not that fucking bad!? I had to coach Regalia on how the fucking guide book her daughters got her did not cover everything, oh and turns out no one had ever bothered to explain to her what sex is!” Fulgrim was not the only one to gape at the Muse as they continued on, their hands clenching tightly as their lips spread into a perversion of a smile.

“I had to have Aurelia help me explain what it was to her because everyone else was too busy laughing, then I had to try and get Aurelia to stop helping me before she made Regalia’s head pop from how much blood was rushing to it.” Fulgrim felt the chuckles slipping past her lips at the image that played across her mind, though she felt said laughter slip past her lips in greater quantity as the Muse continued with-

“Then I had to tell Morrigan that maybe the reason her lover is constantly emptying buckets of perfume on her is because she refuses to bathe, that ended up becoming a fucking hour long argument that only ended when Aurelia gave her that pleading look of hers and convinced her to at least try it and see what happens.” Her Muse’s jaw clenched as they took a deep breath before they resumed, seemingly unaware of the laughter and awe filling the room.

“Sanguinia, Empress bless that woman, all she needed was advice on how to approach her love and how to broach the topics of her curses to them, that was simple enough. Corva? She had the same issues, though instead of curses she wanted to know how to get more comfortable with physical contact. Hestia, another fairly simple one, she just needed advice on how to stop her love interest from running away every time they see her, preferably without traumatizing them.” The laughter grew greater still, many turning gazes of genuine respect to their Matriarchs lover as they took a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm themself before they resumed.

“Aurelia…dear fuck…”The Muse paused for several moments, a thousand mile stare gracing their face as though they were reliving a particularly traumatic experience, their lips moving silently for a few moments longer before Fulgrim;s hand on their shoulder made them look up at her.

“I think you need to spend some more time with her before she gets her lover…because I don’t think they’ll be leaving their bedroom till the next damn Golden Age starts once the Crusade is done…and bring a notebook…some of her ideas sounded very…interesting.” Fulgrim’s mouth fell into a silent gape of shock, her children joining her for several moments before the Muse seemed to try and shake themself from their stupor by focusing on another subject.

“Juno, all we really needed was to try and work out how she could approach them and how they could schedule their dates, simple enough. Hathor was pretty much the same, though we also had to figure out how to make the one she wants notice her feelings, not the worst one though it was a challenge.” Here the Muse paused to take a breath, sighing softly for a moment, before they resumed, their eye twitching slightly as they spoke up again.

“Petra really just needs to be honest with her feelings, that’s really all I could offer for advice for her…that and to remember to take off her armor when she tries to do anything with them.” Fulgrim nodded, smiling slightly at the mental image of Petra, sans her armor, trying and failing to flirt with someone, it would be an amusing spectacle to see, hopefully she would get to witness it tonight.

“Ferrus, just needed a reminder that not everyone can endure the heat of a blast furnace like she can…or endure sparks from molten metal hitting them like she can…really she just needs to remember that the one she’s interested in is a lot more fragile than her.” Fulgrim nodded once more, her smile growing softer at the thought of her closest sister finally getting with someone, she would have to send her a gift…hmmm…maybe she could find a copy of her…’educational’ book on intercourse and send it to her, Ferrus could certainly use the material in it for ‘educational purposes’ for when things reached the bedroom…or maybe…

The Muse paused, registering the mischievous glint in their lovers eyes, and while they were tempted to try and quash whatever form of torment she was dreaming up for her sister, she would try and see if she should warn Ferrus later on, for now she had to continue to feed the gossip mill of the Empress’s Daughters as they continued.

“Freya, that was a basket case. First we had to work out that no, you cannot just walk up to someone, hand them a leash and collar and say you are dating now,” Fulgrim’s hand flew to her mouth to muffle her cackles, her daughters trying and failing to follow her example as her lover continued.

“Then! Then we had to work out that no, you cannot growl at everyone that looks at them before you are even dating, nor can you leave hunting trophies outside their door as gifts, I can only hope that she did not leave some beasts head outside their door beforehand…though…given the look on her face. And don’t even get me started on her asking if it was okay for her to p-ut her scent on their clothes to mark them…I pity them so much.” The Muse sighed as they shook their head, visibly holding back on saying more on the matter as they shifted to another one of her sisters.

“Atlanta…was a surprise, all she really wanted was advice on how to plan out dates with them that don’t involve battle, and on what flowers she should give her Rose,” The incredulous looks they received was enough to make them offer a shrug in response as the Astartes and their Matriarch shared glances of shock and awe with one another.

“Leona was…not as bad as I thought, really just has to work on working up the nerve to confess and not scaring the hell out of them…or stalking them…Alakhi was pretty simple, she just wanted to know what she should do to make them feel more comfortable around her and not like they had to meet some imaginary standards.” Fulgrim nodded to herself absently, that was about what she expected.

“The Twins…yeah that is a mess of trust issues, fixation, and who knows what else they decided to keep to themselves, the big thing was getting them to admit their feelings to themselves and then try and guide them away from whatever hairbrained plan they came up with to wrangle a confession out of their target…and yes that includes tapping their Vox, assassinating potential rivals,” Fulgrim’s eyes widened as she opened her mouth again, “drugging them to kidnap them, blackmailing potential rivals, framing their target to get them put under their care…the list goes on.” The Muse at last stopped with a tired sigh, taking a moment to catch their breath before resuming.

“Magna, I’m going to be honest with you if it weren't for her daughters dragging her out of the library I think she would just keep using her warpcraft to spy on her love and not even try and confront them. Anxiety aside, I feel that she won’t really have any issues when she is finally able to come out of her shell…and stop scrying on them constantly…or stalking them with astral projection.” The Muse paused, once more taking a deep breath as they seemed to try and steel themself for what was to come, the slight shudder that wracked their frame as they announced the last name making all of those present gape in shock at them.

“Kassandra…where in the hell do I even…no…you know what, I’m not drunk enough to discuss that Warp Storm, wait till I have a few bottles in me and then try and get that out of me because that…that is something beyond me.” Fulgrim shared in the respect her daughters were directing towards her lover, especially as she saw them seem to collapse in on themself, sagging in exhaustion as they recalled exactly what they had to deal with to get her new sword.

With a smile on her face, Fulgrim walked forward and embraced her lover, chuckling as she felt them go limp and let their head fall against her body, her breasts resting atop their head as they mumbled into her abdomen.

“Your sisters…are exhausting, and not in the good way.” Fulgrim could no longer hold back her laughter at that remark, throwing back her head and laughing merrily at the way her lover sounded, her laughter stopping when she noticed the shuttles arriving as she reached down and lifted her lover up and into her arms.

“Come on my love, let’s try and bury those bothersome memories with some happier ones.” The Phoenician said as she began to stride towards the shuttles, chuckling to herself once more at the mental images her lover’s words had crafted in her mind, she could already picture the looks that would cross her sisters faces as she-

“Oh, and Fulgrim.” The thoughts of the Matriarch paused as she looked at her lover out of the corner of her eye, mischievous violet eyes watching as her lover looked up at her with a mischievous look of their own, lips curled into a smile that made the Matriarch shudder in unease..

“If they find out that I told you all that information, from you or one of the Astartes, then you will have to make do with your own hand and toys for a month.” Fulgrim went still, her eyes snapping wide open as she gaped at her lover, her daughters having gone similarly still, Eidolon nearly tripping over her own feet as Bile froze in her own tirade against some of her kin, the Apothecaries lips beginning to twitch upwards as she processed what she had just heard.

“You-!” Fulgrim was cut off as her lover lifted up a hand and began to pat her head, a coy smile on their face as they leaned in such that their breath tickled her ear as she purred to her in a tone of satin and sin-

“But, if you can keep it a secret for the whole party, then you can do whatever you want with me tonight, I still have some stress to deal with afterall. What do you say, up for the challenge?” Fulgrim snapped her gaze down to her lover, violet eyes darkening as she unconsciously licked her lips, a hunger welling up inside of her as she looked at her Muse.

“Anything?” She asked in a husky tone, heart beginning to pound as she began to plan and scheme as her Muse chuckled before they leaned in once more, their tongue lightly caressing her ear as they answered with the word that cemented their fate.

“Yes.” A low squeal slipped past their lips as Fulgrim shifted them just so that her hand was beginning to grope at them, the hunger in her eyes now an all consuming blackness as she licked her lips once more, a shudder of delight at the thoughts racing through her mind racking the Matriarch’s frame as she lifted her gaze to look over her children, a knife cut smile appearing on her face as violet eyes blazed like thunderbolts.

The gathered Astartes looked at one another, several silently vowing to work with their mother, if for no other reason than their own safety, while others, such as a silently cackling Florencia Bile, vowing to do all they could to make the coming party as exciting as they could for their Mother and their kin.

And so it was that as the shuttle wound its way down to the planet below, the Muse leaned back their head and let out a low chuckle, delighting in the merry chaos that was sure to unfurl, and at the prospect of watching Fulgrim do all she can to earn her reward.

‘This is going to be one hell of a party,’ They thought to themself as they closed their eyes and relaxed in their lover’s arms, eagerly awaiting planetfall and the beginning of a night full of merriment.

As the Shuttles wound their way down to the planet, a figure emerged as a stygian vessel arrived in silence, the figure swiftly moving aboard the vessel as it began to spirit them away from the fleet, unseen by any and all, the figure that had climbed aboard swiftly sitting their package down and placing it within a vault, the faint light of the ships interior lights alighting for but a brief moment upon a container layered in seals and wards before it was locked away.

Line Break

Silence hung heavy and loud in the halls, broken not by the footfalls of the robe clad figure that maneuvered through the darkness of the black stone halls, navigating not by physical sight but by memory and senses far keener than their ancient form would make apparent.

With impossible ease they held with one hand a case of dark metal, engraved with rune and symbol of warding magics and barriers, and in the other they carried a staff of metal adorned with a golden eagle upon its top, the flames that normally blazed to illuminate the great bird of prey having faded to not even smoldering embers.

For how long they walked none could say, for in the darkness of the depths of this most antiquated and stygian of vaults, time seemed to hold fast its breath, field with both wariness and awe of the horrors sealed behind great walls of stone and doors of ancient and terrible might, yet even where time dared not to tread, the cloaked figure did.

Unhurried they strode down the halls, the chill that hung so heavy in the air doing not to impede them as they approached their destination, a great door of stygian metal, layered in sigils of warding and restraining, flanked on either side by guards clad in sable with skulls of ivory and lone optics of baleful blue, the twin figures did not to impede the robed figure as it lifted a hand and, with an errant gesture, bid the door to open.

And open it did, great slabs of metal layered over one another parting as mechanisms unseen activated at the command of the figure that now strode forth into the room, the darkness of which hung in the air as though it were the ocean itself, fit to swallow, fit to crush and devour the one that had dared to intrude upon its sanctum.

Coldness such that frost coated the room struck at the figure, though it did not to deter them as they approached the center of the room, whereupon a great monolith of onyx metal loomed, shackles of ivory metal holding it fast to the ground as though it were a beast in need of binding and not an inert piece of metal.

Or perhaps they were there to restrain a different beast.

With practiced ease the figure lifted the package into the air, powers ancient and mighty holding it aloft as the figure lifted their hand and began to tap at the unseen keypad upon the surface of the great monolith, the sequence of numbers and letters, of symbols of languages ancient and dead, taking but a handful of moments for a hand that moved with speed that it should not have possessed.

The sequence completed, the figure stepped back as there came a silent pulse across the surface of the monolith as it silently slid open, parting such that a slot large enough for the container and that which was held within could be fitted, runes of even greater power glowed from within, these of burning gold that hummed with power mightier than even that which the ancient figure held.

The container rattled, that which was within attempting to flee from the power of that most ancient and terrible of foes, though no ground could it gain in its bid for flight, for the ancient figure seized the container with a lone hand and moved it within the space, slotting it such that the runes pressed against the container.

Faintly, a sound not unlike an agonized scream could be heard.

With deft movements the ancient figure tapped upon the keypad once more, this time to seal the great vault, and to allow the runes of power to do their long work, they would bleed the object of its power, scorching and searing and maiming that which was held within till not remained of its great might and with ease it could be unmade.

As the robed figure began to depart the room, he thought to himself how the runes had been arranged, of the intent and power held within them, of the tranquil fury that had been upon the face of his ancient friend as they had carved them, the radiance of her power such that the room around her had nearly melted under its might as it was directed into the runes.

‘I suppose the old saying is true then,’ the ancient figure thought to himself as he left the room, a rap of his staff upon the ground bidding the great doors to seal shut behind him as the figures of its guards blended back into the shadow as a wall of stone rose from the ground to further conceal the entrance to the cell.

‘No greater force there is, than a mother shielding her young.’(1) The thought in his mind, and his mission complete for a time, the ancient lord began to wind his way through the antiquated chambers.

He would be ash in the wind before he allowed his old friends children, and his nieces, to be lost to the madness that was the 4 and their twisted designs, and so it was that as he wound his way through the halls and back to the surface, the one known as the Cursed Wanderer, began to plan his next moves in the Great Game.

Fin

We hope you all enjoyed this mess of a ficlet of ours, it is our first time delving into writing in the 40k setting, and our first time writing for this marvelous AU for that matter, so please let us know just how badly we screwed up in the comments.

That said, stay safe and take care all.

#warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k au #Female Primarch AU #PrimarchGF AU #Female Fulgrim #Gender Neutral OC #Warhammer 40000 AU #Warhammer Female Primarch AU

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transingthoseformers · 2 years ago

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Segueeee but! Information on tfp au Starscream as I don't talk a lot about them!

As a general rule I use he/she/they pronouns for Star, as it's a fairly common headcanon that Starscream is some shape or form of gender variant lol. I personally see him as just... not-ing with human gender. No specific labeling, just proud and loud jet.

Tfp au Starscream's colors are closer to a blend of normal tfp, tfa, and g1. And the colors are more like a muted down blue, whitish-silver, and light red / pink. Because hey why not it's my au and all

Tfp au Starscream was royalty before the war, but has oopsy baby energy and is the youngest of a big family. The conservative of such meaning she's had to be loud and flashy to get attention.

Starscream is crazy fantastic at the politics game, and he was absolutely willing to run smear campaigns against his siblings. And assassinate them if she was in a silly goofy mood.

Said tenacity and bloodthirsty tendencies got him noticed by the 'cons (ik ik i should check the tfwiki page on aligned Starscream for more info on that but let's be real canon went out the fragging window a long time ago)

I am ~unsure~ if all of Screamer's siblings should be all offlined, or if a few should be kicking around obscure and faded in the backround because sTARSCREAM FUCKING WON AND THEY CAN TAKE THEIR BULLYING AND STICK IT UP THEI—

Starscream is fucking delightful at managing people and resources, and iicr this is an underutilized fact of canon. Soundwave and him work together well.

Sdjfjjf okay so in the tfp au Starscream most definitely tried a few assassination attempts on Megatron in order to rise higher up, all that all hail Lord Starscream stuff, but these attempts were just... that bad that Soundwave and Megs deemed her not a major threat to the Cause and after a while Screamer calmed down it's all gucci they've dealt with it

Starscream, like Soundwave, extra doesn't like Optimus since the Orion arc began and they don't calm down on this angle for quite a while until necessity for working with him hits.

#tfp au #transformers #maccadam #au #Starscream #tfp Starscream #somewhat #unpopular opinion but i can see why Starscream though killing cliffjumper was a good move and the motivation #i also believe that Arcee's trauma is valid as hell and that she should be still allowed to hate him #I'd mention something about Starscream disliking Tarn but most of the mecha in the tfp au dislike tarn #mild exceptions being the scientists finding his voice ability fascinating and the fallen tolerating him as a means to an end #and well the fallen falling for tarn's sway a bit and invested in the megatarnma gics #*fics

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diorncoke · 2 years ago

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welcome to my blog!!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ about me, I am .. :)

seven ( yes that’s my legal name :)

afro-latina 🇵🇷

bisexual ( & she|her )

twenty 🫶🏽

an age regressor ( 1-4 )!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟmisc ..

i LOVE LOVE halloween or anything horror.

⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ╰┈➤ I do enjoy stupid shit and hyper-feminine things., and speak in that manner, so don’t be mean. please leave if you don’t enjoy or like that :)!

my posts will definitely be anything, if not all, about pedro pascal esp, joel miller ˘ ³˘

this blog is a safe place for girls, gays and theys! ( lgbtqia+ friendly esp., for poc )

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ｡⋆ ╰┈➤ please keep this blog safe for work for all the little ones who will eventually discover my blog. thank you ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ * cussing is allowed * *+:｡.｡

｡ * ｡ʚɞ°｡ fandoms I write/dabble for! ( agere incl! )

the last of us 🧟

night agent 🕵🏻‍♂️

true blood ☠︎︎

stranger things 🔦

outerbanks 𓇼

slashers ( xcpt., freddy krueger )

avatar 𓆛

shameless

criminal minds 📑

transformers

vampire diaries 🧛🏼

twilight ✨

the goo goo dolls 🎧

jennifer’s body

spiderman 🕸️

teen wolf

victorious 🎶

call of duty; war zone 2.0 🔫

euphoria 💸

╰┈➤( also incl. side characters! )

REQUESTS ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

🍂 please, if you are going to request, make sure you have some format.

｡ * ｡ʚɞ°｡ that has to/can include:

sending in a song you would like the dabble to be centred around.

I am a strictly sfw account. any requests must be sfw, fluff, angst, etc. I will not be writing anything smut related.

a sentence or a paragraph must be provided in order for me to understand what you want.

please make sure you are referring to the characters I provided at the top.

okay that’s it, hehe! let’s be friends. 👴🏾

#introducing post #safe agere #sfw blog #pedro pascal #Spotify

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attano · 1 year ago

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#8 — shed.

trigger warnings: mentions of suicide

"We can't beat him."

Sorqaq'tani dares to break the pregnant pause with words that sink Radnashiri's heart like lead. Two years prior, she would not have dared to stand up to them the way she is now, docile and small as she was, but their trials had hardened her into a fierce opponent. If only she were still that meek thing now.

"He nearly killed both of us at our strongest. And you've warred with him for centuries, and you still—,"

Radnashiri wheels around on their heel, fury twisting their face. "You know nothing of my struggle."

Sorqaq'tani stares, incredulous. "I know one thing," she says, using all fifty-six ilms of her height. "I know you've not once won."

Aether flickers around Radnashiri like a gathering storm. Their face is controlled, taut, yet beneath the surface lies thousands of years of rage begging to be released upon their insolent companion. Sorqaq'tani sees it, too, eyes glancing down to their twitching tail before again meeting their gaze.

"There's only one way." Her voice trembles, but she does not falter. She grabs Radnashiri's hand and they do not flinch. "You have to give yourself up to me, like Ardbert."

Rage quickly gives way to a deep horror. They snatch their hand away like they've touched something boiling.

"No." Their voice is tight, gripped with anguish. "I am not killing myself."

"Separately, we might be too weak." In the wake of Radnashiri's growing dread, Sorqaq'tani continues to muse. "But maybe if all our souls were combined into one being... Maybe I should ask Urianger...,"

"I said no." This time, their denial sends an aetheric shockwave across their shared Pendants room. Not a big one, but enough to knock over some smaller items—and to make Sorqaq'tani momentarily return to her small, timid self. Radnashiri selfishly wishes it was a permanent reversion. "After thousands upon thousands of years, I am not laying my body at your feet just so you can get what you want." Their sharp Xaela teeth bare; their claws curl at their sides. "I am not throwing all of that away. All my sacrifice—all my loss—it will not be all for naught."

Sorqaq'tani had drawn her hands to her chest, shrinking into herself, something she used to often in the face of great terror. Radnashiri stares her down and thinks they've won.

"You sound just like him."

Their breath catches in their throat. All threat and intimidation melt helplessly off their frame as the words sink deep into their heart, mingling with the despair and the anger and the sick, sick loneliness.

Radnashiri leaves the room without another word.

They sit at the edge of the Thirstless Shore and wait.

"You can just do it, you know." That infuriating, lilting voice at last reaches their horns. "Sink beneath the waves, never come back up. She's begging you to, anyway."

Radnashiri does not even open their eyes. "If I won't do it to save the Star, what makes you think I will just because?"

"It was worth a try." Emet-Selch squats besides them and still they do nothing physically to acknowledge his presence. "The way your mind works is as infuriating as it is inscrutable."

They snort, amused. When Emet-Selch asks what's so funny, they do not deign to answer. Instead, they ask, "Why are you here?"

"I can't pay a visit to an old friend?"

This time, they do turn to look at him, offering a cold stare that lets him know they're thinking he's full of shit.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. "Fine. I was hoping to emotionally manipulate you into committing suicide. Happy?"

"You must be truly desperate to resort to a method so low."

"You've been a thorn in my side for millennia." His tone changes ever so slightly, a threatening undercurrent painting the words. "Of course I'd do anything to be rid of you."

At this, Radnashiri glances at him out of the corner of their eye. "Anything?"

"Yes, anything. Why? What do you want?"

Carefully, they gauge his expression. Impenetrable as always. When next they speak, they don't break their gaze.

"Make me an Ascian, Emet-Selch."

It is Emet-Selch's turn to scoff, an action which quickly evolves into full laughter. "You? An Ascian? After all these centuries you've spent trying to kill me, you expect me to accept you with open arms and welcome you into my ranks?"

Radnashiri closes their eyes, the darkness centering them. “I’m tired,” they say. “I’m tired of this burden. This ache. I’m tired of... not being understood.”

Emet-Selch balks. “Understood?”

"Don't play dumb with me, Emet-Selch." Their tone is more severe than they'd intended. "You saw my confrontation with Tani. You know exactly what I mean."

His expression is calm, but not kind. "Surely you are not implying what I think you are."

"That you and I are more alike than we are different?" To say it disgusts them. They are who they are because of his kind bringing destruction to the Thirteenth. And yet...

They imagine their words as a claw, gripping tight around Emet-Selch's throat. "I am."

Emet-Selch narrows his eyes. "To insinuate we have anything in common is an insult to even the lowest creatures that roamed Etheirys."

"Perhaps." Radnashiri will concede this. They will not let slip the reins of the conversation. "And yet we do, don’t we? Six thousand years have I been alive, after losing my home, my friends, my face… my name." They bore holes into Emet-Selch’s face, who sneers. "You cannot say our experiences do not parallel."

For once, the man is silent. They are gaining ground.

"Regardless," Emet-Selch says at last, composing himself. Dodging the truth entirely rather than facing it. Radnashiri wonders how he might respond to being killed. "You've made your stance clear these past thousands of years. I struggle to believe you’d ask me for forgiveness."

"I'm not," they say. "I don’t want forgiveness. I want acceptance."

A scoff. "Your friends don’t accept you?"

"They’re not my friends." The response is quick and sharp. Sharper, even, than they’d like. Is it true? Does it matter? "They never were."

"And I am?"

"No. But you understand, don’t you?"

Emet-Selch’s jaw tightens.

Radnashiri looks away at the still waters of the Source. "What was that name you called me," they say, voice faraway, "two or three lifetimes ago? You saw my aether and let it slip."

"You don't recall your own name, or any of the others you've had since, yet you remember that?" Emet-Selch's words are spit through clenched teeth. At the cost of Radnashiri's own sanity, slowly, he unravels.

"You of all should know that memory is fickle."

"Memory," he echos, voice dripping with mockery. "Don't you speak to me of memory."

It feels less like a deflection and more like a stuck nerve. Radnashiri eyes him carefully. Both of them are cornered animals, waiting for the other to pounce first. They can feel his predatory eyes on them, and he mumbles something.

They hazard a guess, and instead of saying what, they say, "Yes?"

"Mnemosyne. You remembered after all." For just a moment—a fleeting, wistful moment—a spark of longing falls across his face.

"It's a lovely name," they say. Each breath they take is shallower than the last; they are inching ever closer. "It would be nice to return to it."

Emet-Selch snaps out of any reverie that might have taken him, his voice a blade. "I never said I would acquiesce."

They drudge one last scrap of muddled memory to the surface of their addled mind; for all their struggling to recall anything about themselves or their home, this tiny shred has burned itself into every corner of their mind. Fickle indeed. Perhaps their subconscious knew they would someday need it.

"Please, Hades."

The Ascian sigil flashes on Emet-Selch’s face for the briefest of moments, but flash it does. "You are not worthy to use that name!"

"Then make me worthy." Radnashiri matches him in passion, voice soaring over the waveless Source. They face him fully, their larger body cutting an imposing figure, aether sparks haloing them in a display of raw desperation. "Make me worthy of it. Restore my memories. Make me Azem!"

Emet-Selch stares at them, and, if Radnashiri knew no better, they might say that for just a moment, he looked vulnerable.

"Fine," he spits, and pulls them in roughly at the waist. His other hand appears flush against their face, nose to palm, the tips of his gloved fingers pressing into their scaled flesh. "This will hurt."

And there, on the Thirstless Shore, do the memories come rushing forth.

#ffxivwrite2023 #this one got kinda outta hand. but i reallyyyy wanted to write radna so #i would tag this em/etwol but i don't want to be accused of false advertising

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vanaglori-ah · 2 years ago

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thanks for tagging me @mercedesdecorazon

(i also didn’t get the notification for some reason? i got it in my emails but not on the actual tumblr app/website)

Rules: List eight shows for your followers to get to know you better.

i don’t really watch tv shows 😅 but here are some of my faves

---

honorable mentions: what we do in the shadows (2019), the boys (2019), peacemaker (2022), paper girls (2022), ms. marvel (2022), star wars: the clone wars (2008), the mandalorian (2019)

08. swarm (2023) - would be higher, i just finished episode 4. it’s really good so far and it will most definitely move higher on the list once done! (i also don’t get how the show is confusing so far? like the story is pretty straight forward)

07. what we do in the shadows (2019) - big fan of mockumentary stuff. also i never laughed so hard at certain things.

06. a league of their own (2022) - here for the gays and the theys. it’s such a shame that it’s only getting a 4-episode second season to wrap everything up. some bs if you ask me.

05. doom patrol (2019) - brendan fraser made me SOB during this show. it’s weird asf like the comics, but i’m absolutely in love with it. and it’s such a shame that it’s on its last season.

04. game of thrones (2011) - despite the shitty 8th season (and like slow descent into trash), i love this show to death. tyrion lannister and theon greyjoy will always have my heart.

03. house of the dragon (2022) - only higher than got because it has potential to not end in a dumpster fire. i have faith in it! (but i also have my own issues with this show too and its fandom)

02. abbott elementary (2021) - i don’t think i need to explain why this show is so good. i especially love s2 because of ava’s character growth. she was really frustrating for me in s1 because of how she treated the teachers and it’s great to watch her grow to appreciate them in s2.

01. reservation dogs (2021) - quiet sobbing in the back

tagging: @certified-anakinfucker @shynmighty @afabficbeach + basically anyone else that wants to do this

#mutuals #tag game #chats w flora

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buffaluff · 2 years ago

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hi there! i’m karen, or buff—i’m an illustrator from NY here to post some art and yap about various star wars and treks, the weewoo show, and lots of animals. here’s some handy links and facts:

🎨 my art tag 💸 my website (commission info, store links etc) 🚒🚨 my 9-1-1 tag (i reblog a lot i’m sorry)

🌈 30-something, one of those wily she/theys, pan 💖💛💙

🦬 always giving animal facts to the unwilling 🏁🎺 your tragic ska punk mutual 🌙🐺 contributes a werewolf AU everywhere they go 🎬 WILL wax poetic about propmaking and practical effects in media if you give them an opening

⚔️🛡️ i also post a lot about my little sister who is a knight and her recovery journey from an accident in 2021 including a 3 week coma

#figure it’s time to pin a post!#about a buff #buff art

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9902sgirl · 2 months ago

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Gays, Girls, Theys and Those, and everyone in between. I have so much to say about this piece. This was so so good, and to keep a long MF story short, READ THIS, RIGHT NOW!!!

Long, detailed deep dive below. Lets begin

Now, those who are interested in my gushing, we have arrived.

Lets start this off, by saying I am 100% behind you on the fact that Hunter cries. He will shed tears, and we will all be the better for it. Right off the bat, haven't even gotten to the content yet, and I am here for it. (also the sent & Breeding Kink??? I'M SAT)

Back to the crying thing. This man, if we are following Fanon Lore, LIVES in sensory overstimulation. That combined with all of these nerves (at this point I would classify this as anxiety) I fully expect there to be an equally releasing emotional reaction.

"That was before the Republic fell, and every Jedi across the galaxy was marked for death. Before the purge and the Empire's reign began. Before you were forced to go into hiding on your own. And he hasn't spoken to you since."

That alone, would make me want to disappear into nothingness with how worried I would be about my partner. LIKE??? Lets really break all of the time down, you say right after that, that its been months. This would be the #1 thing on my mind at all times, and I do not blame Hunter for being as nervous as he was.

"He's scared you'll look at him differently, scared you won't look at him at all."

Oh my precious, foolish man. The only thing that she wants in this life is to see you, to know you are okay, and have you by her side. She has lost so much already, she refuses to lose you as well.

"Hunter hasn’t been startled like that in ages, not since he was a cadet, but here he is, nearly falling out of his seat at the sudden contact."

I. Want. Cadet. Stories. For like all of our Copy & Paste men. We deserve more because of how tragic this whole subset of Star Wars truly is. I fear I am far too attached to them all, and I don't believe I will ever get over it.

"He should have known Wrecker would notice something was wrong, even if the others hadn't. He'd always been perceptive, despite what people thought of him"

THANK YOU!!!! Wrecker Bad Batch does not get enough credit, and I will always be looking for tidbits of things like this. I am so tired of the 'He's just a big Himbo, with no thoughts' thing and I am so so so glad that he is finally getting the (correct) attention that he deserves.

"You had been rendered speechless after he'd told you about his feelings for you, your face flushed red, mouth hanging open in surprise, and he hadn't been able to keep from grinning at your reaction. You couldn’t form a single sentence until after you'd kissed him, and by then, it was his turn to be caught off guard."

Yeah me fuckin to MC, I would not be able to keep my shit together. Like at all. Even a little bit.

Like I would be these two, at the same time.

"He doesn't realize he's crying until he hears you whisper his name, but then you're laughing, soft and beautiful, and all he can do is hold you tighter, your scent enveloping him as he breathes you in."

I would simply cease to exist in this scenario, I've decided. Just reading this reunion and picturing it, that is enough, cut the show.

Also, rereading this part, this story is so Work Song by Hozier Coded. He would move all of the stars in the galaxy to come back to her. Nothing would have stopped him from this moment.

Like, excuse the boneage (lol) but these exact lyrics, this is the vibe. I am truly living my best life right now. Just the *right* amount of pain.

THESE FOOLS IN LOVE (also shameless song plug) HAVEN'T BEEN CAUGHT IN YEARS???? And Hunter thought she was gonna get over him as if he was a fling??? They all need therapy. Asap. I'm so sorry Mr. Hunter Bad Batch, that you cannot see your own self-worth.

"He knows you wouldn't care about the dangers, though. You'd risk everything for a chance at a normal life, a family"

The fact that he was right about this is so so delicious. I remember reading that part earlier and barely resisting the urge to bite something because of how damn sweet that is.

"Not that he wasn't always talking about her," Echo teases."

The sibling dog-pile here is some well deserved payback for what he had been hiding from them for so long lmao I love that so much. 10/10 sibling energy here.

"He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, and the contact makes you sigh. "I'm gonna take care of you," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek."

The words in literature that resonate with us the most are often words that we need to hear. That we long to hear said to us. This made me feel something, and that being said, your work usually makes me feel something. Thank you for what you do Roy.

"He's willing to wait, no matter how badly he wants you."

A king of consent, we love to see it in all forms. I love that, this is so in character for him. He could be (and is at this point, lets be real) the most desperate man in the galaxy for her attention, but that doesn't matter at this moment. She matters more to him than anything he could want/need.

"Good." He kisses you again, deep and slow, and his hands drift lower. "I've got a lot of time to make up for."

I WOULD HAVE HIM ON THAT LITTLE DOCK ON THE LAKE SO FAST. if in that reality, there was no potential for an audience. Like, feral, freak nasty, down bad. All day, all night. or however that TikTok sound goes.

"Maybe, this was where you were supposed to end up all along."

If my heart warms up any more, I am pretty sure I will need paramedics. FOUND FAMILY IS MY FAVORITE TROPE THAT HAS EVER EXISTED.

"Good," Wrecker grins. He nudges him with his elbow, giving him a wink. "She's good for you, Sarge. And we're not gonna let anyone take that away from you. No matter what happens."

Oh, Wrecker, my protective, sweet, smart man. You will always be the one for me. This actually made my heart flutter. Your Honor, I love him.

“Omega, would you like to help me dismantle this ship? It will give you a chance to learn more about the components of different models."

Tech, ever the wingman. He is getting Omega out of that house for at LEAST the next couple hours. They need this so badly.

"He doesn't want to stop. He wants to keep going, wants to drag his mouth across every inch of you until there's no part untouched, until the taste of you is burned into his memory for good."

OKAY...I DO NOT SEE A PROBLEM HERE. DO IT?? NOW??

I have never, and will never be "okay" in times such as these.

Moving on!!

"You're here, and he's here, and nothing is going to take him away from you. Not again."

Further evidence for my Hozier claim.

"There's no more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more worrying about being seen standing too close together or his hands lingering too long. It's freeing, not having to hide how he feels, not having to pretend like his feelings don't exist."

For real, a weight that has been taken completely off of him. This being lifted off of him, and after all of the sex, he is going to get the best sleep he has gotten since coming out the decanter.

"It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing does, except the two of you."

(Kronk voice) Oh yeah, its all coming together.

I am here for the simp, freaky, feral sex that is about to happen. I am so invested in this.

"In a hurry, are we?" "You have no idea," he mutters. He kicks the door to your bedroom open, shutting it behind him with his foot, and strides across the room. "Been wanting this for too damn long."

I am physically prepared. This is going to be amazing, and I can tell just from this one part.

*WARNING* I am going to be expressing the THOTS as well as general commentary. Brainless activity is happening after this. Be Warned and Prepared.

"Your fingers trace the outline of his tattoo"

I want to know what it tastes like, I am being so fucking for real right now.

"Do you ever think about what it could've been like? If we hadn't lost each other? If...things had gone differently, and the war had ended the way it was supposed to?"

this is heartbreaking to think about on its own. Like yes, the fall of the Jedi Order is a tragedy and I, like many others in the fandom, read the AUs of "it never happened!" But for these specific characters, in this setting. I believe this was the best possible outcome. The Republic would have NEVER let the squad go. They are way too multi skilled to ever lose. They would be the best, deadliest tools of the Republic, especially knowing that it would have been up to the Senate to determine what would happen to the Clones. Anyway, made myself upset in my own brain. Moving on!

"I would've married you," he whispers. His voice breaks on the word, and he has to pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If I could. I would've married you, and given you everything I had."

Okay, now you and your wordsmithing made me sad. I love this story so much. The "falling over themselves" type of love in this type of world, is my Achilles heel.

"He doesn't say a word. He can't. His brain can't seem to form a coherent thought, not when you're looking at him like that"

Brainless Hunter matches my freak so so well. I am a huge fan.

"Here, let me," you murmur as your fingers work to unclip his armor."

Girl, ME TOO. I will take it all off with my teeth if you give me enough time, so help me.

"Everything," he growls. His mouth moves along your neck, biting and sucking, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. "Anything you want. I'd do anything for you."

Uh, fucking, uhhh you know, I just, I need some water. I need to breathe. I need to keep reading. My right mind has stopped working. I read that "Everything" in the "Negative.." tone and I am not able to breathe properly.

"I missed touching you, kissing you, being inside you."

Well, if you insist sir, by all means

"What's that, sweetheart?"

Who, me?? I did not say a word. Keep doing what you're doing. Now.

"How do you want me?" "I don't care,"

FELT THAT GIRL, REAL STATEMENT

"He eats you out with enthusiasm"

My man has a scent, and if I can expand, a Flavor kink. This feral thing is the same man that was all heart eyes and anxiety earlier. I am a true supporter of the "Hunter eats pussy like a man who has had no food or water in days" trope and I always will be.

"The fact that it's you, that he's the one who got you here, who made you come undone, is enough to send a wave of pleasure coursing through him."

I also to my core believe that the first time this man ate MC out to completion, he came untouched. This is a number one theory for me for Hunter in general honestly.

PT 1.

“I think you forgot what I am, Hunter."

I love this so much!! There is absolutely no power imbalance here. They were truly made for each other.

"He wonders if this is what they mean when they talk about being lost in someone. Because he is. He's completely and utterly lost. Lost in you. Lost in the warmth of your gaze, the softness of your touch, the scent of your skin, the feeling of your body surrounding him, your heart beating in sync with his own."

This is the true definition of love being shared, being tangible. This is an incredible explanation, truly!

"You're staring at him, concern etched across your features, and he realizes, with a start, that tears are rolling down his cheeks. He hadn't noticed."

HE IS A SIMP AND HE IS MADLY IN LOVE IN A CRUEL WORLD/UNIVERSE. HE HAS HER BACK AND HE IS CRYING! I am completely fine, and normal about this. (I would be crying as well)

"Never forget it." "I won't," you promise. He holds you there, your foreheads pressed together, your noses touching. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of you wash over him. It calms him, soothes him, and he feels his heart slow, his breathing evening out."

She is his grounding point. This is everything to me. I can't even articulate everything I feel about this, other than the fact that it is everything to me.

"Slow," you order. "Can't," he groans."

FERAL HUNTER MY MAN

PT 2

"He tries to move, to thrust up into you, but a weight presses down on him, holding him in place. He knows without looking that the Force is holding him down, keeping him still, and a thrill runs through him, the realization making him even harder."

*INAPPROPRIATE USE OF THE FORCE SMASHES THROUGH THE WALL AND GRABS ME BY THE THROAT*

Hello old friend, haven't thought of you in quite some time. MAKE HIM EAT HIS OWN WORDS

"You wanna feel it, don't you?" he murmurs.

Yes, everywhere. Please for the love of God Hunter.

"There it is," he growls. The weight pressing down on him disappears, and he grabs your waist, flipping you over."

The words are not gonna work for a while after this. I finished reading this today, before I started work this morning, and I was not okay!!! I had to be professional, and talk to real life people!!! I am going to make that mistake again, you can count on that.

"Good." Hunter grins, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."

I hope not, I am here for it, like I said earlier, all day, all night, freak nasty feral.

"He doesn't remember the last time he slept, and he can't even recall the last time he was able to relax. It feels like forever since he's felt this good, this safe."

Fuckin called it earlier. Best sleep of his life incoming.

"I'm not letting you go again," he mumbles, his forehead pressed against yours. "I don't care what it takes, I'm not letting anyone or anything take you from me."

Excuse me,

Okay, I'm good now.

I am so so so happy with this piece. This was amazing. FERAL SIMP HUNTER SUPREMACY!!!!

Thank you for putting this into our world!

Always

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!Reader / Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 16,083

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, hurt/comfort, forbidden relationship, a very heartfelt reunion, Hunter is a crier no I won't be accepting any criticism, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, nipple play, marking, primal kink, scent kink?, breeding kink

Summary: Months after you went into hiding, Hunter hasn't stopped hoping, waiting for the day when you can finally be together again. Now that it's here, and there's no reason to hide his feelings for you anymore, he can't help but be a little overwhelmed.

A/N: I'm sure no one believes me at this point but I had no intention of writing this much. I was possessed by the spirit of romance, true love, etc. etc. Anyway, please enjoy some very soft, very protective, very affectionate Hunter. Thank you so much to @dindjarins1ut for the prompt!

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Hunter is nervous.

He tries his best to hide it, keeping to himself while Tech and Echo bicker in the cockpit, but he can't ignore the butterflies in his stomach, nor the clammy hands threatening to soak through his gloves. It's ridiculous. He's faced off against far worse than this. He shouldn't be getting worked up over something so small.

But it isn't really small, not when you think about it. He hasn’t seen you in months. No comms, no messages. Nothing. He knows you’re alive, and even that was a miracle. The last words he said to you were in person, when you were standing right in front of him and he told you he loved you, and he'd kissed you and then left with the promise to come back as soon as he could.

That was before the Republic fell, and every Jedi across the galaxy was marked for death. Before the purge and the Empire's reign began. Before you were forced to go into hiding on your own.

And he hasn't spoken to you since.

You haven't seen each other in months, and Hunter is terrified that the feelings aren't mutual anymore. That you've grown apart during your time away, and what he had thought was love, you now see as nothing more than a fling. He's scared you'll look at him differently, scared you won't look at him at all.

He doesn't know what he'll do if you don’t want him anymore. If he loses the best thing that's ever happened to him.

It's stupid, Hunter knows that, because even if you don't love him the same way you used to, you'll still be friends. He should just be happy you're alive and not worrying about something so trivial as his emotions, but he can't help it. He can't shake the feeling, and it's eating him up inside.

A hand settles on his shoulder, and he jumps.

Hunter hasn’t been startled like that in ages, not since he was a cadet, but here he is, nearly falling out of his seat at the sudden contact. It takes him a moment to get over his shock, his heart pounding, before he looks up to see Wrecker looking down at him with a frown.

"Hey, we're almost there," Wrecker says, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and Hunter swallows the lump in his throat.

"I'm fine," he says, but it comes out rough. He clears his throat, tries again. "I'm fine."

Wrecker’s eyebrows raise, and Hunter realizes a moment too late Wrecker never asked how he was doing. But his brother doesn't call him out on it, only gives him a look, one that Hunter recognizes as his attempt to look serious.

“You sure?”

"Yeah," Hunter replies automatically. He can feel the anxiety creeping into his gut, and he pushes it down, looking away. "Why wouldn’t I be?”

"I dunno," Wrecker shrugs, leaning back against the bulkhead. "You've been real tense all day."

Hunter sighs. He should have known Wrecker would notice something was wrong, even if the others hadn't. He'd always been perceptive, despite what people thought of him, and Hunter’s never been able to get away with hiding his feelings, not even when they were kids.

"I just..." he hesitates, wondering how to explain his feelings without making himself seem pathetic. Wrecker might not care, but Hunter still has his pride. He still has the strong desire to protect you, to keep you secret and safe. He knows Wrecker would never betray his trust, but still, he doesn't want to admit how anxious he's been, or how much the anticipation is killing him.

"It's nothing," Hunter decides. He turns back to look out the viewport through the doors of the cockpit. They’ll be landing in a few minutes, and he doesn't want to miss the moment you step into view. "Just... worried, is all."

"What for?"

"I..."

He can't say it, can't get the words past his lips, but the hand on his shoulder squeezes gently, and the unspoken encouragement makes the admission easier.

"It's been a long time," Hunter says finally, and the rest comes tumbling out of him, unable to be held back anymore, “We haven’t seen her in months, Wrecker. What if she's... I don’t know. Things have changed, is all. For her. For us."

"So?" Wrecker scoffs, and his dismissal of the problem only makes Hunter feel worse. He scowls, glaring up at his brother.

"So," he echoes, trying to sound stern, but he can't even bring himself to look mad, not really. His shoulders slump, the fight leaving him, and he looks away. "It might not be the same anymore."

For a moment, the silence is deafening, but then Wrecker lets out a laugh, loud enough to echo throughout the ship, and Hunter bristles, his eyes darting to the cockpit. Tech and Echo are still arguing about the finer details of landing, but he doesn't doubt they can hear every word they're saying.

"What?" Hunter snaps, glaring at his brother, but Wrecker only laughs harder.

"I'm pretty sure she won't have changed that much," he says, nudging Hunter's shoulder hard enough to make him sway. "I bet she's gonna be so happy to see us, she'll probably forget how to talk. Just like last time."

Hunter huffs, but he can't help the twitch of his lips at the memory of your first meeting, of how nervous you'd been, unable to string two words together without stumbling over your own tongue. You always did tend to trip over your own words when you were flustered.

You had been rendered speechless after he'd told you about his feelings for you, your face flushed red, mouth hanging open in surprise, and he hadn't been able to keep from grinning at your reaction. You couldn’t form a single sentence until after you'd kissed him, and by then, it was his turn to be caught off guard.

He can remember the look on your face like it was yesterday, and the thought of seeing you again, of seeing your eyes light up as you smile up at him, fills him with a familiar warmth. He wants so badly to believe that your reunion will go well, that things haven't changed and that your relationship is the same, but a part of him, the pessimistic part that's kept him alive all these years, knows that it can't possibly be true.

And Wrecker has no idea what you mean to him, because Hunter has never told him, has never told any of them. You're his secret, his one solace in the galaxy, the one thing he keeps from his brothers, the only thing he's ever wanted that's completely his.

And you were taken from him.

It hurts just thinking about it, knowing you were alone, afraid, with no one to turn to for help, while Hunter was hundreds of thousands of parsecs away. They'd spent weeks trying to find you after the Empire was established, scouring the holonet and every contact he could find, but it was like you had fallen off the face of the galaxy.

Hunter had never felt so helpless in his life.

So yes, he's a little scared of how this is going to play out. You were taken from him once, and it broke his heart. He's terrified that if you don't want him anymore, he won't survive losing you a second time.

"Yeah," Hunter murmurs, glancing out the window. Your home planet is starting to take shape in the viewport, the blue and green and brown and white all blending together. "You're probably right."

Wrecker chuckles, patting his shoulder.

"You know I am," Wrecker says cheerfully, and then he's walking away, back towards the cockpit to interrupt the debate Tech and Echo are having.

Hunter stares after him, not sure if he should be offended by the comment or not. He chooses not to dwell on it, pushing himself out of his chair to follow his brother. Tech spares them a quick glance, rolling his eyes when he sees Wrecker is already pushing his way into his space.

"Would you mind," he grumbles, elbowing the bigger clone, but Wrecker is unfazed, squeezing into the small space behind Tech's chair.

"Nah," he says, grinning down at him.

"Then could you at least wait until we've landed?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It would certainly make things less complicated."

"Guys, come on," Echo groans, his head hitting the back of his seat. "We're almost there."

"And what a relief that will be," Tech grumbles, pushing his goggles up his nose, and he looks at Hunter, his brow raised. "What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Hunter says, but he's a little too fast to reply, and Tech doesn't buy it. His gaze turns suspicious, but he doesn't push. Instead, he shoves Wrecker's hands away from the controls and starts his descent, taking the ship down in a controlled spiral towards the planet's surface.

Omega drops into the seat beside him and secures her restraints, and Hunter follows suit, though he can't help the nervous energy building in his limbs. He can't keep still, his fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm against his thigh, and when Omega's small hand covers his, he startles.

"Are you excited?" she asks him, and Hunter hesitates for a moment before he nods.

"Yeah, kid," he answers, and it's not a lie. Not really. He is excited, in his own way. "I'm glad we get to see her."

"Me too," Omega smiles as she pulls her hand away, and she turns to watch the clouds disappear as they sink below the atmosphere. "I can't wait to meet her."

"She's gonna love you," Wrecker says, his arms braced on Tech's chair. "You're gonna love her, too. She's real nice."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Hunter replies, leaning back in his seat. He can't keep the fondness out of his voice when he speaks, the memory of your laugh echoing in his head. "She's one of a kind."

Tech glances over his shoulder. "It has been some time since we last saw her," he says, and Hunter feels his heart stutter in his chest. He knows Tech doesn't mean anything by it, but he can't help but hear the implication in his words.

It's been a long time, and people change.

"Well," Echo says, turning in his seat to grin at Hunter. "Let's hope she hasn't forgotten all about us."

Hunter swallows the lump in his throat and forces a smile, nodding along with the rest of them, but he can't ignore the pit in his stomach. He wants so desperately to believe they're right, that your reunion will go well and it won't be awkward, that everything will be just like it used to, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't shake the feeling.

"It'll be... nice, to see her again," Tech says. "Even if it has been awhile."

"Aw, you missed her too, huh?" Wrecker grins, clapping a hand on Tech's shoulder, who swats him away irritably.

"She was a competent general, and she is a valuable ally," Tech replies, adjusting his goggles. "I didn't say I missed her. Simply that it will be nice to see her."

"It's okay to admit you like her, you know," Echo teases. "We won't tell anyone."

Tech shoots him a glare, but he doesn't say anything. He's focused on the descent now, the ground growing closer and closer, and when they break through the cloud cover, the land below them comes into focus.

Hunter leans forward in his seat, eyes straining against the sun. You live on a small colony in the southern hemisphere, surrounded by a large forest. It's isolated, and perfect for someone trying to lay low, but it's also a bit difficult to find, and Hunter doesn't spot your house until they're nearly on top of it.

It's small, a cabin tucked neatly among the trees, with a yard and a path that leads to a dock down by the lake. There's a ship parked outside, a tiny thing, and Tech guides the Marauder down beside it.

"There she is!" Wrecker booms, pointing out the viewport. Hunter stands up, ignoring the nausea building in his stomach, and scans the house.

And there you are.

You're sitting on the porch, a datapad in your lap, and you glance up with a hand shielding your eyes. It's impossible to make out your expression, but when the Marauder slows to land, you're already standing and hurrying down the dirt path towards them.

It's been so long since he's seen you, and even though he knows your face, has it memorized and replayed in his head so many times it's burned into his mind, the sight of you is enough to knock the wind out of him. You're smiling, waving up at the ship, and you look so happy that he can't stop himself from mirroring your expression.

You're here.

Hunter has dreamed of this moment for months, the day he gets to see you again, and the reality of it is even better than he'd hoped. He's barely aware of his feet moving, taking him towards the hatch as soon as the ship has touched down.

"Hunter?" Wrecker's voice is far away, barely registering in Hunter's mind as he practically runs towards the exit. "You okay?"

"Fine," he calls over his shoulder, his hand slamming into the button. The door hisses as it slides open, and a rush of warm, fresh air washes over him. The second his feet hit the ground, he's moving, his legs carrying him as fast as he can.

"Hey!" Wrecker shouts, but Hunter doesn't answer. He's halfway down the path, his eyes locked on your figure as you hurry towards him, and when you're close enough to touch, he's pulling you into his arms.

Your hands slide around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he crushes you to his chest. He doesn't realize he's crying until he hears you whisper his name, but then you're laughing, soft and beautiful, and all he can do is hold you tighter, your scent enveloping him as he breathes you in. He can't keep himself from pressing his lips to the skin behind your ear, needing to feel the warmth of you, the solidness, the realness of you here, alive, with him.

"Hunter," you whisper, and his name has never sounded so sweet. Your voice, your hands, the sound of your breath as it ghosts across his skin, the way you say his name. All of it is like a balm to his soul, soothing his worry, and for a moment, everything feels right again.

Hunter lifts his head and cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him, and you do.

Your eyes are shining, tears brimming along the edges, and when you blink, they spill over. He thumbs them away, smiling so wide his cheeks ache.

"Hi," he whispers. You laugh, a sob escaping with it, and he feels his heart soar at the sound.

"Hi," you say back, and then you're surging forward, capturing his lips with yours.

It's a desperate kiss, the kind that says how much you've missed each other, how afraid you were of never seeing the other again. It's the first kiss you've shared in months, and it's the best damn kiss Hunter's ever had. The world narrows down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists, not the trees or the ship or his family watching from the hatch, their jaws hanging open.

It's just him and you, finally, blissfully, reunited.

He kisses you hard, and you return the pressure, clutching him close. His arms slip around your waist, lifting you off the ground for a moment, and you gasp against his mouth, laughing when he sets you down again.

"Miss me?" you ask, a teasing note to your voice, and Hunter pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

"Yeah," he replies, and then he's kissing you again, softer this time. Gentler. His lips move against yours, slow and deliberate, and your fingers tighten their grip in his hair.

He doesn't know how long it's been since he's started kissed you, or how long you've been kissing him, but it doesn't matter. It's not enough, could never be enough. He needs more of you, needs every part of you pressed against him, so close he can feel your heartbeat.

You hum, your hand moving to cup the back of his head, and the kiss deepens. Hunter's hands drift, sliding down the curve of your spine until his palms are pressed flat against the small of your back, and he pulls you closer. Your body molds to his perfectly, and you're warm and soft and so unbelievably real, and he never wants to let you go.

"Uh..."

The sudden intrusion startles him, and he pulls away from the kiss with a jerk, looking over his shoulder. The rest of his squad is staring at him, dumbfounded, and he can't keep the blush from creeping up his neck.

"Uh," he repeats, his face flushing. "Hey."

Wrecker's jaw is hanging open, and so is Tech's. Hunter doesn't think he's ever seen either of his brothers at a loss for words.

"We, uh..." Hunter clears his throat, glancing back at you. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, but you're grinning up at him, your eyes dancing. You give him a little nod, a silent permission to tell them the truth, and his heart flutters. "We were going to tell you, but things... got in the way."

Wrecker is the first to recover, his surprise shifting into a massive smile.

"I knew it!" he yells, pumping his fist in the air. "I told ya, didn't I? Didn't I?"

"That you did," Tech replies. His mouth is still open, but he closes it quickly, pushing his goggles up his nose before reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Well, this is... certainly unexpected."

"That's an understatement," Echo mutters. He glances at Hunter, his brow raised. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"Uh..." Hunter's eyes dart to you, but you only smile at him. He swallows the lump in his throat and takes a deep breath. "It's been a couple years."

"A couple years?"

"Yeah."

"Years," Echo repeats. "Right. Okay."

"You could have told us," Tech says. He's looking at Hunter now, his face impassive, but Hunter can read the hurt in his eyes hidden behind the mask of indifference. "We wouldn't have betrayed your trust."

"I know," Hunter sighs, running a hand over his head. "We just... we wanted to keep it quiet."

"It was my idea," you say, and Hunter's surprised to see you look guilty. Your eyes are fixed on the ground, and he watches the way your bottom lip wobbles before you suck it into your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes, and he offers you a reassuring smile. You return it, but it's hesitant. "The Order's views on attachment were... a little different, to say the least. It would have put both of us at risk if anyone found out. So we kept it secret."

"Well, now you don't have to," Wrecker grins.

"No, I suppose not," you reply, smiling at him, but there's a sadness to your expression that makes Hunter's chest tighten. He can only imagine how difficult the last few months have been for you, what it's like to be in hiding, constantly looking over your shoulder. His arms ache to wrap around you again, to pull you into his chest and hold you close, to protect you from everything and everyone.

But he can't.

The Empire is everywhere, always watching. The war might be over, but the danger isn't gone, not yet. Not for him, and not for you.

"Can I come out now?" a voice voice drifts from the ship, and Hunter looks up, surprised. His eyes land on Omega, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks irritated, a frown pulling at her lips, and he chuckles.

"Yeah, kid," he says, nodding his head towards the ramp. "Come on."

Omega wastes no time in running out of the ship, her irritation forgotten in her excitement. She skids to a stop a few feet away, her eyes wide as she stares at you. You kneel down, a warm smile spreading across your face, and Hunter feels his heart squeeze in his chest.

"Hey," you say softly. "You must be Omega. I've heard a lot about you."

Omega steps forward, holding her hand out for you to shake, and you take it.

"Nice to meet you," she says politely.

"And you," you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Your eyes are soft as you study her face, a fondness to your expression that Hunter's only seen a few times.

He knows how much you love children. The Order never allowed its members to have families, but that hasn't stopped you from falling in love with kids everywhere you go. He's seen the way your eyes light up when you're around them, how gently you speak to them, like they're the most important people in the galaxy.

He knows it's just the way you are, but sometimes, he wonders if it's something more. If maybe, someday, you'd want to have kids of your own.

And the thought terrifies him.

Not because he doesn't want a family with you, but because the world is changing, and he's not sure there's any place for it. You're in hiding, and he's a traitor to the Republic. How would it ever work?

He knows you wouldn't care about the dangers, though. You'd risk everything for a chance at a normal life, a family, and while he'd give anything for that too, he doesn't think he can allow himself to get his hopes up.

Not now. Not yet.

He's lost in thought, his gaze drifting to the trees surrounding the house, when a tug on his arm brings him back. You're looking up at him, an eyebrow raised, and when he blinks, you roll your eyes, a fond smile twitching at your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "What did you say?"

"I was asking how long you're staying," you repeat, but he can tell by the look on your face you know what's going on in his head. You're giving him a moment to compose himself, a distraction to keep him from slipping into another spiral.

It's a common occurrence these days.

"Well," Hunter starts, glancing at the rest of his team. "We're kind of... between jobs, right now."

"That's putting it lightly," Echo scoffs.

"So we figured we could use a little vacation," Hunter finishes. He looks back at you. "If you'll have us."

"Of course I will," you smile, and Hunter doesn't miss the way your shoulders relax, the relief in your eyes. "Stay as long as you want."

"We don't want to intrude," Hunter says, his gaze softening. "If you need some space, we understand. We can—"

"Don't be ridiculous," you huff, nudging his shoulder. "I'd love to have you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course," you nod, glancing at the others. "All of you."

"Good," Hunter breathes, unable to keep the sigh of relief from escaping his lips. "I didn't really wanna leave anyway."

"Good," you say, leaning into his side. You rest your head against his shoulder, and Hunter's arm wraps around you almost automatically, pulling you against him. "I've missed you."

"Yeah," Hunter says softly. "Me too."

"Oh, yeah," Wrecker grins. "He hasn't shut up about you."

"Wrecker," Hunter hisses.

"No, really," Tech nods, adjusting his goggles. "Ever since we lost contact, he hasn't stopped talking about you."

"Not that he wasn't always talking about her," Echo teases.

"Hey," Hunter protests, but he can feel his cheeks burning, and he knows the blush is starting to creep up his neck. You're smiling, a knowing glint in your eye as you glance up at him, and Hunter rolls his eyes. "They're exaggerating."

"We are not," Tech says, frowning at him.

"Maybe not," Echo smirks, his gaze settling on you. "But now we know why he's been so weird about seeing you again."

"He's been weird?" you ask. You're trying to hold back a laugh, but Hunter can see the mirth in your eyes.

"He hasn't stopped pacing for days."

"He nearly fell over his own feet trying to get off the ship."

"Oh, yeah, he was nervous all right," Wrecker chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Never seen him like that before. I was startin' to get worried."

"Guys," Hunter grumbles. "Come on."

"Well," you smile, patting his chest. "I'm glad you came. All of you."

"Us too," Omega says. Her face is scrunched up, like she's trying not to laugh. "Hunter was so nervous he forgot how to breathe."

"Alright, that's enough," Hunter huffs. He can feel his ears burning, and he shoots Omega a pointed look. "Everyone, inside."

"Aw, but—"

"Now," Hunter snaps, cutting Wrecker off. He's not mad, not really, but he can't help the embarrassment. "We'll be there in a minute."

Wrecker opens his mouth to protest, but Echo nudges him, nodding his head towards the house. Tech doesn't wait for either of them, heading inside without another word, and Wrecker reluctantly follows after him, grumbling under his breath. Omega casts one last look over her shoulder, waving at you before disappearing inside.

The silence that settles over the two of you is heavy, and Hunter lets out a long breath. He runs a hand over his hair, avoiding your eyes.

"I can't believe they told you that," he mutters, but he can feel your gaze on him, the smile in your eyes, and his irritation fades.

"They're only teasing," you say, resting a hand on his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin, and he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replies, opening his eyes to look at you. Your smile is soft, gentle, and he melts under your gaze. "Just a little overwhelmed."

"Me too," you chuckle, dropping your hand. He quickly grabs it, pulling it to his chest, and your expression shifts. "I've been so worried, Hunter. I thought..."

"I know," he whispers. His grip tightens on your hand. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you whisper back. Your voice wavers, and Hunter tugs on your arm, bringing you closer.

"I'm here now," he murmurs, tilting his head down. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

You nod, but the fear is still shining in your eyes. He knows that feeling all too well, the uncertainty, the constant worry, the doubt. And it's hard to believe him, he knows, when the past few months have been nothing but fear and anxiety. But he's determined to make it better, to do whatever it takes to ease your mind, even if it's just for a little while.

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, and the contact makes you sigh.

"I'm gonna take care of you," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He strokes the skin with his thumb, his fingers gentle, and his heart stutters in his chest at the way your eyes flutter closed. "You don't have to worry anymore. I'll make sure nothing happens to you, I promise."

"You don't have to—"

"I know," he cuts you off, brushing his nose against yours. "But I'm going to. We're gonna protect you, sweetheart. All of us."

"Thank you," you whisper, opening your eyes. He's startled by the emotion swimming in your gaze, the tears pooling along the edges, and the sight breaks his heart. “But I can’t put you guys in danger. The Empire—”

"The Empire won't do anything," he assures you. "You're safe. We'll keep you safe."

"But what if—"

"Listen," he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You suck your lip into your mouth, chewing on the flesh, and he gently pries it from your teeth. "None of that. I won't let anything happen to you. Neither will they. You're part of the team, and we take care of our own. No matter what."

"You don't have to do this, Hunter."

"I know," he says, his voice low. He doesn't want to push, doesn't want to force you to come with them, but he needs you to believe him. Needs you to understand. "But I want to. Please. Let me take care of you. It'll be good for all of us."

You're quiet for a moment, your brow furrowed, but then you let out a soft sigh, your shoulders slumping, and your eyes drop to the ground.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay."

"Hey," Hunter says. His free hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "Trust me, alright? You're safe now."

You nod, but you don't look convinced. He sighs, leaning forward until his lips brush against yours, featherlight, barely there.

"We can talk more later," he murmurs. He's desperate to kiss you again, his whole body aching for it, but he doesn't want to rush you. He's willing to wait, no matter how badly he wants you. "If you're okay with it."

"Yes," you breathe, your hands coming up to clutch at his armor, and you press a soft kiss to his jaw. "I'd like that."

He lets out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to press his hips into yours, but then your hands slide up over his shoulders to tangle in his hair, and he groans. You chuckle, a sweet, breathy sound that has his blood singing, and Hunter's restraint crumbles.

He kisses you, slow and deliberate, and his hands are moving on their own. He lifts you into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You're pliant under his touch, letting him guide the kiss, and he licks at your lips, begging for entrance. You give it easily, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth, curling against yours.

His hips press against yours, and your body is hot against him, so soft and perfect. You taste so good, and feel even better, and the sounds you're making, the little whines and gasps, are driving him crazy.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss. He's breathing hard, his pulse thrumming, and he can't keep the smirk off his face. You look beautiful, flushed and breathless, and his desire spikes when your fingers tug at his hair.

"Fine with me," you smile.

"Good." He kisses you again, deep and slow, and his hands drift lower. "I've got a lot of time to make up for."

"Mmm," you hum, your head falling back. Hunter can't resist the urge to kiss your throat, his teeth grazing over the delicate skin, and you shudder. A breathy moan falls from your lips, soft and quiet, but Hunter hears it. He always does.

"Fuck," he growls. "You sound so pretty."

"Hunter," you sigh. His name is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, and he has to fight the urge to take you right then and there.

"We should go inside," he murmurs, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear.

"Mmhmm," you reply. You're nuzzling his neck, your hot breath sending shivers down his spine, and his hold on you tightens.

"Sweetheart," he groans. "I can't think straight when you do that."

"That's the idea."

"Come on," he says. He's reluctant to put you down, but he does, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment.

You look at him, your eyes bright, and your smile makes his chest ache. He wants so badly to stay with you, to pull you into his lap and bury himself in your warmth, to have the freedom to kiss you, touch you, love you, without having to worry about getting caught. He's never been able to do that before, always keeping you a secret, always worried about being found out, but the Order doesn't exist anymore, and now he has the chance.

And he's going to take it.

He's not going to hide his feelings anymore. You deserve more than that.

You reach up and touch his cheek, the gentle gesture enough to calm his racing heart.

"Let's go," you say, your thumb stroking over his skin. "Before they get suspicious."

"I'm pretty sure they're already suspicious," he chuckles, glancing towards the house.

"It's a little obvious, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he admits, his face heating up. "A little."

You laugh, taking his hand in yours. You're leading him towards the door, but he stops, giving you a gentle tug.

"Hey," he murmurs, waiting for you to turn around. You do, a small smile tugging at your lips, and he can't help the way his eyes dart down to your mouth, the memory of your kiss sending a thrill down his spine.

"What?"

"I love you," he whispers. He's not sure why he says it. You know how he feels, you've known it for a long time, but something about it feels different, now. Like it means more than it did before.

Maybe it does.

Your expression softens, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards, and he can see the happiness in your eyes, the fondness. It's a look he's familiar with, one he's seen many times, but the knowledge that he can see it as much as he wants now, without having to hide or sneak around, makes his heart flutter in his chest.

"I love you, too," you whisper, a smile spreading across your face.

"Come here," he says. You're in his arms again before you can say a word, his mouth finding yours, and you're melting into his touch, the kiss deepening, turning desperate. He has to pull away before his brain completely shuts down, and when he does, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

"Later," he promises, his voice a rasp.

"Later," you agree.

He lets out a long breath, nodding his head once before stepping back. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, and he gives you a gentle nudge, nodding towards the house. You smile, reaching up to straighten his bandana, and Hunter can't help but chuckle at the action.

"Lead the way," you say.

"Always," he grins, and then you're walking up the path, the warmth of the sun enveloping you as you step onto the porch.

The door slides open before Hunter can even reach for the panel, Wrecker's smiling face poking out.

"Oh, good," he says, looking at the two of you. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us."

"Of course not," you reply.

Wrecker's grin widens, and then he's stepping aside, his arm sweeping towards the inside of the house.

"After you, General."

"Thanks," you smile, nodding your head in appreciation. Hunter follows behind, his hand hovering at the base of your spine. Wrecker doesn't miss the movement, his eyebrows shooting up, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches, a knowing look in his eyes, and Hunter rolls his own.

"Not a word," he warns.

"Wasn't gonna say anything," Wrecker smirks, his gaze flickering to the hand resting on your back. "Not sure I need to."

"Don't start," Hunter sighs. He slows to a stop, crossing his arms over his chest, and you keep walking, a laugh spilling from your lips as you head towards the kitchen.

"Hey," Wrecker raises his hands in surrender, but the grin doesn't fade. "I'm happy for you. Both of you."

Hunter blinks. "Thanks," he says slowly.

"I mean it." Wrecker smiles. He claps a hand on Hunter's shoulder, a silent confirmation of his words, and Hunter returns the gesture. "You two deserve each other."

"Yeah," Hunter says, looking over at you. You're already in the kitchen, Tech at your side, and the two of you are talking rapidly at each other with Omega sitting on the counter between you. Tech's arms are waving wildly, a datapad gripped tightly in his hands, and you're grinning at him, the excitement obvious on your face. Echo is stirring a pot of something, the delicious smell of dinner drifting through the house, and he chimes in every now and then, his smile growing wider each time.

Omega glances up at him, and she gives him a little wave, her grin so wide her cheeks must ache. Hunter smiles back, his heart swelling, and he can't help but think, maybe everything is going to be alright.

You look so at home with his family, like you've always been a part of it, like you've always belonged there. And maybe you have. Maybe, this was where you were supposed to end up all along.

It's funny, how things work out sometimes. How, even after losing so much, even after having nearly everything taken from him, he somehow still managed to find something good.

"I guess we do,” Hunter finally replies, his gaze settling on you. He can't tear his eyes away, can't stop looking at the way the setting sun dances over your face, lighting you up in the most beautiful glow, the way your smile makes his heart beat faster.

Wrecker follows his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "So, does this mean she agreed to stay with us?"

"Yeah," Hunter sighs, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Yeah, she is."

"Good," Wrecker says. His smile widens. "That's good."

"It's going to be hard, keeping things quiet," Hunter says, glancing at his brother. "We've got a target on our backs, and I'm not sure how much longer we can hide. The Empire will find us eventually, and when they do—"

"It's okay," Wrecker interrupts, holding his hand up. "I know. But it's worth it, right? To keep her safe? And Omega?”

"Yeah," Hunter says without hesitation. "It is."

"Then we'll do whatever we have to," Wrecker replies. He nods towards the kitchen. "They'll understand. ‘Sides, Omega's gotta have a mom at some point. Might as well be her."

Hunter's breath catches, his chest tightening. "Wrecker—"

"You're happy," he continues, ignoring Hunter's protest. "You haven't been happy since... well, not since I can remember. And she makes you happy. And she's good with the kid, too. I can see how much she loves you, and how much you love her. So, what's the problem?"

Hunter stares at him, the surprise clear on his face.

"I, uh... nothing. There's no problem," he stammers, his brow furrowing.

"Good," Wrecker grins. He nudges him with his elbow, giving him a wink. "She's good for you, Sarge. And we're not gonna let anyone take that away from you. No matter what happens."

"Thanks," Hunter replies. He swallows the lump in his throat and blinks back the sudden moisture in his eyes. Wrecker squeezes his shoulder, smiling down at him, and Hunter takes a shaky breath.

"Don't mention it," Wrecker says. "Come on. I‘m starving."

"You're always hungry."

"Well, yeah," he scoffs. "We gotta keep our strength up, right? Especially if we're gonna be fighting off Imperials."

He mimes a punch, his fist slamming into his palm, and Hunter chuckles.

"Yeah, alright," he agrees. "Let's go eat."

The two of them walk into the kitchen, Wrecker immediately making a beeline for the pot Echo is stirring, and Hunter makes his way over to where you're standing with Tech.

He stands beside you, close enough for his arm to brush against yours, but he doesn't touch you. He keeps his hands at his sides, his fingers curling into his palms, but the desire to wrap his arms around you is overwhelming.

He knows you'll let him, but it's only been a few hours, and he's afraid if he touches you again, he won't be able to stop.

Tech is explaining something to you, his hands moving rapidly as he talks, and Hunter watches, his head tilted to the side. He's only half listening to what his brother is saying, but he's content to just watch the two of you interact. You're so invested in the conversation, asking questions, listening intently as Tech answers, and Hunter can't help but smile at the sight.

"So, what do you think?"

Tech's voice startles him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, forcing his attention back to the present.

"Uh... sorry," he mutters, glancing at you. "What was that?"

“Tech wants to gut my ship for parts like a bantha carcass," you huff. You're smirking at him, amusement shining in your eyes. "He's trying to convince me to let him take it apart."

"It's not as though we have much use for it," Tech argues. "And besides, it would give me something to do while we're here."

“Aren’t you all supposed to be relaxing?”

“I happen to find tinkering with electronics quite relaxing," Tech replies. "Especially old ones. And it will keep me busy, which means I won’t be pestering you. So really, you would be doing yourself a favor by allowing me to do this.”

Hunter smirks. “He’s got a point.”

“Traitor,” you mutter, nudging his shoulder.

He nudges you back, his grin widening, and you roll your eyes.

"Alright, fine," you sigh.

"Excellent," Tech smiles. He turns his attention back to the datapad in his hands, his eyes darting across the screen. “Omega, would you like to help me dismantle this ship? It will give you a chance to learn more about the components of different models."

"Sure," she nods. She jumps down from the counter, landing with a soft thud.

Hunter watches the two of them disappear into the living room before looking at you. You're smiling softly, your head tilted to the side, and he can't stop his gaze from wandering, taking in every detail of your face.

"You're staring," you murmur. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, and the hint of a smile tugging at your lips betrays your feigned irritation.

"Can’t help it,” he replies. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hip. The simple touch is enough to send a spark shooting through him, a warmth blooming low in his stomach, and his grip tightens, pulling you closer.

"Hunter," you laugh, your eyes widening.

"Hmm?"

"We're not alone."

"We're not?" He arches an eyebrow. "Didn't notice."

"Hunter," you hiss, but there's no bite to your words, just a soft laugh. "Stop it."

"No," he grins, leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. You shiver, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he feels a rush of pride at the reaction.

"You're impossible."

"Only because I can be," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your cheek. You sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut, and Hunter can't resist the urge to brush his mouth over the soft skin, trailing gentle kisses down your neck. You let out a soft whine, the noise so quiet only he can hear it, and his body reacts instinctively, his hands tightening, his hips shifting closer.

"Hunter," you gasp, your voice low.

"You smell so good," he groans. His nose brushes against your throat, and he inhales deeply, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a burst of heat washing over his body, and he nuzzles the skin, his lips ghosting along the edge of your jaw.

He doesn't want to stop. He wants to keep going, wants to drag his mouth across every inch of you until there's no part untouched, until the taste of you is burned into his memory for good. But he's aware of the others in the room, and he forces himself to pull away. He puts some distance between you, enough so that he can breathe, but he can't bring himself to move too far away.

"Tonight," Hunter says, his voice rough. He glances over his shoulder, making sure the others are still distracted, before continuing, "I'm gonna take care of you."

"Mm," you nod. You look dazed, your cheeks flushed, and Hunter feels a surge of satisfaction knowing it's his fault. "You'd better."

"Oh, I will," he smirks. "All night, if you want."

You bite your lip, your eyes sparkling. "Promise?"

"I—"

"Alright, I’m no chef, but I think it’s ready," Echo calls, Wrecker already heading towards the pot with a stack of bowls. He turns around, a spoon in one hand, and Hunter catches a glimpse of a wicked smile. "If you can pry yourselves apart long enough to eat."

"We were just talking," you argue, but your face is red, and Hunter has to bite back a grin.

"Right," Echo laughs, his gaze flickering between you. "Just talking. Got it."

"Echo," Hunter warns.

"I didn't say anything," he replies innocently. He waves his spoon at the two of you, his grin widening. "You can have your little chat after dinner.”

“Enough talking,” Wrecker groans, snatching the spoon from Echo’s hand and shoving him out of the way. "Food first."

"We'll finish this later," Hunter whispers, and you nod.

"I'll hold you to that," you whisper, brushing a kiss against his cheek before you pull away, stepping towards the counter. You glance over your shoulder at him, a sly smile curling your lips, and Hunter has to force himself not to follow after you. He waits until you're busy helping Wrecker dish out the food before moving, and even then, he makes sure to keep his distance.

It's difficult.

The need to be near you is overwhelming, and he can't stand the thought of leaving you for even a moment. But he doesn't want to crowd you, either, and he has to remind himself that you're not going anywhere.

You're here, and he's here, and nothing is going to take him away from you. Not again.

The thought settles over him, calming the ache in his chest, and he finally allows himself to relax, falling into an easy rhythm with the others as the six of you gather around the table. He takes a seat next to you, his leg pressed against yours, and his arm is draped over the back of your chair, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. You lean into his side, your body fitting against his like it was made to, and the warmth of you is enough to ease the last bit of tension that's been lingering beneath the surface.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Hunter loses track of how many times his hand drifts to your side, or his fingers slip into your own, or his lips press against your temple. Every time he does it, he expects a reaction from you, a protest or an admonishment or a roll of the eyes, but each time, you simply smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and he finds himself doing it again, unable to stop himself.

It’s easy, familiar, like this is how it was always meant to be, and the fact that he can finally hold you without fear of getting caught is a relief that's impossible to put to words. There's no more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more worrying about being seen standing too close together or his hands lingering too long. It's freeing, not having to hide how he feels, not having to pretend like his feelings don't exist.

It's the most natural thing in the world.

And he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Eventually, the meal ends, the food vanishing into Wrecker's stomach, and Hunter helps you clean up while the others disappear outside. The setting sun guides them toward your ship with Tech in the lead, and Hunter watches them go, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment before returning to you. You're scrubbing at a pot, your brow furrowed in concentration, and he can't help the fond smile that spreads across his face. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, content to watch you work.

"You're staring again," you mumble, not bothering to look at him.

"How did you know?"

"I can feel it," you chuckle. You set the pot aside and dry your hands before hanging up the towel. "I always know."

"It's not my fault," he says, pushing off the counter. Hunter closes the distance between the two of you, his hands resting on your hips. "You're hard to resist. And I can't keep my eyes off you."

"You're such a flatterer."

"It's not flattery if it's true."

You shake your head, a smile spreading across your face.

"What?"

"Nothing," you laugh. "Just... the way you're acting. It's kind of cute."

"Cute?" He frowns, his nose wrinkling. "I don't know about that."

"It is." Your arms snake around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, and you tilt your head to the side. "I'm used to the serious, stoic Hunter. I like this one, too."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mmhmm," you hum. Your lips press against his jaw, a soft kiss that has his eyes fluttering shut, and his hands slide down to grip your thighs. He lifts you onto the counter, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Is that so?"

"Uh-huh," you nod, and you kiss him again. This time, it's lower, right where his pulse is jumping under his skin, and he groans, his eyes falling shut.

"I didn't know you liked him so much," he manages to say, his breath hitching.

"I love him," you murmur. "As much as the other one."

"Well," he chuckles. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face. "I think I can live with that."

You lean forward, and he meets you halfway, his mouth finding yours.

It starts off slow, a lazy kiss, his hands moving from your face to tangle in your hair. But then your lips part, and the soft sound you make is enough to light a fire in his veins, and he's kissing you with everything he has, pouring all his emotion into it. You return it eagerly, matching him stroke for stroke, and when his tongue brushes against yours, the groan he lets out is so loud he can't even hear the others yelling outside.

It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing does, except the two of you.

"Bedroom," you gasp, breaking the kiss. "Now."

"Yeah," he pants. He grabs your thighs, pulling you off the counter, and you wrap your legs around his waist, his arms hooking under your knees.

He doesn't say anything else. He can't. He just kisses you, his tongue sliding past your parted lips, and your nails dig into his shoulders, a desperate moan spilling from your throat.

He carries you through the house, navigating the halls blindly, too focused on kissing you to care where he's going. He nearly trips over a chair, but he manages to keep his balance, and you laugh, the sound vibrating against his mouth. He breaks the kiss long enough to shoot you a playful glare, and you beam back.

"In a hurry, are we?"

"You have no idea," he mutters. He kicks the door to your bedroom open, shutting it behind him with his foot, and strides across the room. "Been wanting this for too damn long."

"Mm," you sigh. You're kissing his neck now, your tongue lapping at his skin, and his pace quickens. He feels the softness of the mattress hit the back of his legs, and he sits, his hands shifting to cup your thighs.

"Missed you," he rasps as you settle into his lap. You're straddling him now, and the heat of you against him is driving him crazy. "Missed you so much."

"Missed you too," you whisper, and your hands are cupping his face, pulling him towards you. Your fingers trace the outline of his tattoo, your touch gentle, almost reverent. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling, and his breath hitches as you brush your lips over his temple.

"I can't believe this is real," he admits, his voice low. "I keep thinking it's some kind of dream, that I'm gonna wake up and find myself back on the ship."

"It's not a dream," you promise. You press a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, his nose, and then, finally, his mouth. It's soft, chaste, but no less intense, and Hunter sighs, his hands sliding up to curl around your waist.

"You're really here," he whispers. "I didn't think..."

"I'm not going anywhere," you assure him, and the conviction in your voice makes his heart ache. Your forehead is resting against his, your lips barely an inch apart, and he can feel your breath ghosting across his skin. "I love you."

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "For not coming to you sooner. For not—"

"Hunter, stop," you cut him off, your fingers pressing against his mouth. He quiets instantly, his gaze locked with yours. "It's not your fault. There was nothing you could've done."

"I could've tried harder," he protests. "Could've tried to find you."

"You couldn't," you sigh, shaking your head. "You know that. I didn't want to be found. I'm not even supposed to be here. If anyone finds me, I'm as good as dead."

"I won't let that happen."

"I know," you smile. Your thumbs rub gentle circles against his cheeks, and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "And I love you for it. But we can't change the past. We just have to make the most of the time we have now."

"Right," he nods. He swallows the lump in his throat, trying to push away the guilt, the anger, the regret. "I just..."

"What?"

He lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping. "Do you ever think about what it could've been like? If we hadn't lost each other? If...things had gone differently, and the war had ended the way it was supposed to?"

"Yeah," you admit, and you give him a sad smile, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. "Sometimes."

"Me too," Hunter whispers. He pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck. You hold him there, your arms wrapping around him, and his hands drift up to clutch at the back of your shirt. He inhales deeply, taking in the scent of you, letting it fill him up, ground him.

"Sometimes I wonder," you murmur, your voice low, "what would've happened if we'd met in a different life. If we were just people, with no obligations or duties, no expectations or responsibilities. No wars, no battles, no death. Just us."

"A life together," he mumbles, the words muffled against your skin.

"Yeah," you say, and you sigh, a wistful sound that sends a pang through his chest. "A life together."

"We'd have a place like this," he says. He glances up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "A home."

You hum in agreement, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "We would."

"We'd be happy," he continues. He smiles at you, a small, sad thing, and your fingers trace the curve of his lips. "We'd have a family. Maybe even kids. And we wouldn't have to hide."

"We wouldn't," you agree, a tear slipping down your cheek. He reaches up, catching it before it can fall, and brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the dampness.

"I would've married you," he whispers. His voice breaks on the word, and he has to pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If I could. I would've married you, and given you everything I had."

"Hunter," you whisper, your voice breaking.

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "I just—"

"No, no," you cut him off with a shake of your head. You kiss him again, and he melts into it, the feel of your lips against his enough to soothe the ache in his chest.

"We could still have it," he breathes, his mouth moving over your jaw, the skin so soft and warm and inviting. "We could."

"I know," you reply, and you tilt your head back, allowing him access to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, and you shudder, a whimper falling from your lips.

"Do you want it?" he asks, his voice low. He's not sure why he does, not sure what he wants the answer to be, but the question falls from his mouth without thought.

"More than anything," you admit, and Hunter feels his heart skip a beat.

"Then we'll make it happen," he promises. "If you'll have me."

"I already do," you whisper, and then you're kissing him again, harder this time, with more desperation, like you need to prove how much you mean it.

His hands wander, mapping out every curve, every contour, every inch of your body, and your own exploration isn't far behind, the two of you touching and caressing and stroking in a way that leaves him panting, his heart racing.

"Please," you whimper, and the sound goes straight to his cock.

"Anything," he rasps. "Whatever you want."

"I just want you."

"You have me," he breathes. "You'll always have me."

You're kissing him again, the desperation in your touch increasing with every second that passes. He feels like his entire body is on fire, like the slightest touch could set him off, and he groans into your mouth, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your lips.

He knows what you want, and he gives it to you without hesitation, his mouth opening wide as he dips his tongue inside, his fingers digging into your hips. You gasp, and he swallows the noise, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt.

He pulls it up and over your head, breaking the kiss for only a moment, and he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his gaze sweeping over every inch of exposed skin.

You're so beautiful, it almost hurts to look at you.

You stare back, your chest heaving, your eyes dark with lust. You're biting your lip, and his own mouth falls open, his eyes widening.

He doesn't say a word. He can't. His brain can't seem to form a coherent thought, not when you're looking at him like that, and he swallows, his eyes darting to the swell of your breasts. You're wearing a bra, but it's not much, a scrap of lace and silk that leaves nothing to the imagination. He can see the outline of your nipples, the stiff peaks pressing against the fabric, and he can't help but reach up and run his thumb over one, the contact making him shiver.

"Hunter," you whimper, your eyelids fluttering shut. He repeats the action, watching in fascination as your chest rises and falls, and he does it again, the soft whine that falls from your lips spurring him on.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his hand cupping your breast. "So perfect."

He leans down, his mouth closing over the soft mound, and he sucks gently, his tongue lapping at the hard nub through the fabric. Your back arches, a broken moan escaping your lips, and Hunter feels a rush of heat shoot through him, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.

"Fuck," he curses, his breath hot against your skin, his hands moving to undo his belt. It's a struggle, his fingers shaking, but he manages, tugging it free and tossing it to the side. As soon as it hits the ground, you're pushing his hands away, taking over, and he grins, letting you take the lead.

"Here, let me," you murmur as your fingers work to unclip his armor. He nods, sitting back on his hands and admiring the view as you remove each piece, dropping them to the floor. The way your brow furrows in concentration, the softness of your skin, the swell of your breasts as they rise and fall with every breath, the warmth of your hands, the gentleness of your touch, all of it sends another wave of heat crashing through him.

It's breathtaking, the sight of you, and Hunter can't help the pride that swells in his chest. It’s not the first time he’s felt it, the rush of joy that comes with seeing the woman he loves, but it still catches him off guard.

He wonders, briefly, if he'll ever get used to the feeling. If he ever stops being amazed by how incredible you are, how lucky he is to have found you.

"What are you thinking about?"

You're kneeling in front of him now, your hands resting on his knees, and the question startles him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing," he says, and you tilt your head to the side, giving him a knowing look. He chuckles, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking along your jaw. "Just admiring the view."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," he replies, his gaze dropping to the exposed flesh of your chest. He can't stop himself from leaning forward, his fingers skimming along the lace, before brushing over the delicate skin of your cleavage.

"Hunter," you whimper, arching into him.

"Beautiful," he says. His eyes meet yours, a wicked grin pulling at his lips. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you."

You blush, the heat creeping up your neck, and Hunter chuckles, pulling you towards him. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your chest.

“But first,” he murmurs against your chest. His lips brush over your sternum, his nose skimming the tops of your breasts, and his hands find the waistband of your pants, tugging the fabric down. “I want to see all of you.”

You moan, letting him pull the material down your thighs, your eyes slipping shut as his hands glide along your legs. You step out of the clothing, them aside, and he takes the opportunity to remove his pants and shirt, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes.

You stand between his legs, staring down at him in nothing but your bra and panties, and Hunter has to take a deep breath. The sight of you is almost too much, the need coiling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him, but he manages to rein himself in.

"Gorgeous," he whispers. His hands are on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into the sensitive flesh. "Come here."

He pulls you into his lap, guiding you to straddle his hips, and you go willingly, settling yourself onto his thighs. He presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the skin, and you sigh, tilting your head to the side, granting him access.

"You smell so good," he murmurs. His nose traces the column of your neck, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a wave of desire surging forward, and his hips jerk involuntarily, grinding against yours. His cock is straining against the fabric of his underwear, aching for release, and he can't stop himself from groaning.

"Fuck," he rasps, his teeth scraping against your collarbone as you shift. You're moving against him, a slow roll of your hips, and Hunter can feel his restraint slipping.

"Hunter," you sigh. His mouth moves down, his lips trailing over the swell of your breast, his tongue darting out to lap at the lace covering your nipple.

"You're driving me crazy, sweetheart," he breathes, his breath hot against your skin. "The things I wanna do to you."

"What do you want to do to me?"

He can't stop the groan that escapes him. He grabs your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh, and tugs you down, grinding his clothed erection against you.

"Everything," he growls. His mouth moves along your neck, biting and sucking, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. "Anything you want. I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Mmhm," he murmurs, nuzzling your chest. He can't stop himself from licking and sucking, the taste of your skin intoxicating. His hands are roaming up and down your sides, squeezing and caressing, and you arch into him, your body reacting to his touch.

He slides a hand down your spine, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. He makes quick work of it, unhooking the latch and pulling the straps down your arms. You sit back, letting the fabric fall away, and he can't help but stare, his mouth hanging open.

Your nipples are hard, pebbled and straining, and he can't resist the urge to flick his tongue across one, teasing the stiff peak. You let out a whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Oh," you gasp. Your eyes are closed, your head tipped back, and Hunter smiles against your skin. He continues his assault, licking and sucking, his teeth grazing over the stiff nub.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he purrs. You nod, a soft moan falling from your lips. He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, and you squirm in his lap, your hips rocking against his.

"Force, yes," you pant, tugging at his hair. "I missed this. Missed you."

"Me too, sweetheart," he murmurs. His hands move to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading, and you let out a shaky breath, rolling your hips against his. "I missed touching you, kissing you, being inside you."

"Yes," you whimper. His fingers are plucking at your nipples, pinching and tugging, and you grind down on his lap, desperate for friction. "Please, Hunter."

"Don't worry," he promises. He kisses his way up your chest, along the curve of your neck, and nips at your earlobe. "I'm gonna take care of you."

"Good," you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I've waited long enough."

"Too long," he agrees. He lifts his head, his gaze meeting yours. "But we've got all the time in the world."

You smile at him, cupping his face. For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other, neither saying a word. He can see the desire in your eyes, the need shining bright, but there's something else, something deeper, and his heart swells, his chest filling with warmth.

Then, without warning, Hunter flips you over, pressing you down into the mattress. He hovers above you, his weight resting on his forearms, and he smirks when you let out a surprised squeal.

"Hunter!"

"Hmm?" he hums, dipping his head to kiss the underside of your jaw. You arch into him, a soft moan escaping you.

"What are you—mm, that feels good," you sigh, tipping your head to the side.

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," you murmur. Your arms are draped over his shoulders, your fingers threading through his hair. He presses a kiss to your throat, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin, and you groan. “Keep going.”

Hunter chuckles, his hands sliding up your thighs. He reaches your hips, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear.

"Lift your hips for me," he says, his breath ghosting across your ear. You obey, lifting yourself up off the mattress, and Hunter pulls the fabric down your legs. He tosses it over his shoulder, not bothering to see where it lands, before turning his attention back to you.

"Perfect," he breathes.

You're spread out in front of him, completely naked, your cheeks flushed, chest heaving, and he's mesmerized. It's not the first time he's seen you like this, but it's been too long, and his memory can't compare to the real thing.

He traces a finger along your inner thigh as he settles between your legs, his hand gliding over the soft flesh, and he watches as goosebumps erupt across your skin. You're trembling, the anticipation clear in your eyes, and Hunter grins, enjoying the effect he has on you.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his fingers ghosting along your slit. He's not surprised to find you wet, the scent of your arousal thick in the air, and he inhales deeply, relishing the familiar aroma.

"I want you," you whimper, your hips bucking upwards. He places a hand on your stomach, holding you down.

"How do you want me?"

"I don't care," you pant, reaching for him. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, your nails digging into the skin, and he bites back a groan. "I just need you. Please."

"Soon," he promises. He kisses your thigh, his lips trailing over the smooth flesh. "Let me take care of you first."

"You don't have to," you insist.

"Oh, I want to," he murmurs, his mouth inches from your center. "So badly."

"Oh," you moan, your back arching as his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin. You're trembling beneath him, and Hunter can't help but smile. It's intoxicating, knowing how badly you want him, and he can't stop the pride that swells in his chest.

His tongue flicks out, teasingly brushing against your folds, and you let out a breathy sigh, your body tensing.

"Stop teasing,” you plead.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says, though he can’t find it in him to sound apologetic. His fingers part your folds, and his tongue slides through your slick heat, circling your entrance before dragging up to flick over your clit.

"Ah, fuck," you moan as your eyes roll back. Your hands are clutching the sheets, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. You gasp, your hips jerking, and he grabs them, holding you in place as he begins to lick and suck.

He wastes no time, his tongue and lips reacquainting themselves with your folds, and the taste of you is enough to make him dizzy. It's sweet and salty, familiar and unfamiliar, and Hunter can't get enough. He buries his face in your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue probes your entrance.

"Oh, Hunter, yes," you pant, your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair. He grins against you at the praise, his tongue plunging inside, and you let out a strangled moan.

He eats you out with enthusiasm, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He's not sure how long he spends there, his face buried between your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your cunt. It could be hours, or mere minutes, but he doesn't care. It's perfect, the feeling of you underneath him, the way your body writhes, the noises falling from your lips.

He fucks you with his tongue, his grip on your thighs tightening, and your back arches, a desperate whine escaping you.

"Fuck, yes, Hunter," you cry out, your legs wrapping around his head, locking him in place. He moans, his tongue plunging deeper, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He can't stop himself, his movements becoming frantic, desperate.

He needs more, craves it. Wants to feel you come apart, to know that it's his name on your lips. That it's his touch making you lose your careful composure.

"That's it," he groans, his breath hot against your pussy. "Come on my face, sweetheart."

He's not sure if it's the words or the way he thrusts his tongue inside, curling and stroking, but something sends you over the edge, and he's rewarded with a choked cry and a gush of slick heat as you clamp down around him.

Your toes curl, your back arching off the bed, and Hunter has to hold you down, his grip tightening as his mouth continues its relentless assault. Your walls pulse around him, clenching and releasing, and he lets out a growl, his tongue pushing deeper.

"Kriff," you moan, your hands clutching at his hair, pulling and tugging. He lets out a muffled groan, his eyes slipping shut, and he savors the feeling, the taste, the smell.

The fact that it's you, that he's the one who got you here, who made you come undone, is enough to send a wave of pleasure coursing through him. It's addicting, the feeling of having you like this, and he can't help the surge of satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that no one else has ever seen you this way. And if he has his way, no one ever will.

"Force, I missed that," he says once you finally relax, your legs falling from his shoulders. He licks his lips, grinning, and wipes his chin with the back of his hand.

"Me too," you breathe, propping yourself up on your elbows. "That was incredible."

"Yeah?" he asks, crawling up your body. He plants a kiss on your sternum, moving higher until his mouth finds yours. You return his messy kiss eagerly, moaning when you taste yourself on his tongue, and he chuckles, cupping your cheek.

"Mmhm," you sigh.

"Good," he murmurs, kissing you again. His tongue probes your mouth, searching for every last drop of sweetness. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he grunts, his cock twitching at the feeling.

"Need you," you whisper, breaking the kiss. Your hands slip down, coming to rest on his ass. You give him a squeeze, a playful grin on your lips, and Hunter can't stop the smirk that pulls at his mouth.

"Patience, sweetheart," he says. "We've got all the time in the galaxy."

"No," you shake your head, hooking your leg around his waist. You pull him closer, the hard line of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit, and you moan, grinding against him. "I need you now."

"Kriff," he groans, his head falling forward. The heat is radiating off of you, and he can't stop himself from pushing against you, seeking relief. "Yeah, alright. But I wanna take my time with you."

"We can take our time later," you promise. You tug at his underwear, pulling the fabric down his thighs, and he kicks them off, sighing in relief as his cock springs free. A pleased noise escapes you at the sight of him, hard and straining, and your other leg wraps around him, urging him on.

"Sweetheart," he breathes, his hips rolling. His cock is trapped between the two of you, sliding through your slick folds, and the sensation is almost too much.

"Please," you beg, tilting your hips upwards. You're soaking wet, the head of his cock sliding through the mess, and it's all he can do not to sink inside you.

"Fuck," he hisses. His grip on your waist tightens, and he presses a kiss to your neck, his lips tracing a path along the curve. You moan, arching into him, and he takes the opportunity to capture your lips in another messy kiss. He can feel the desire pouring off you, the need coursing through your veins, and it's overwhelming. He doesn’t even notice your legs tightening around him, not until you flip him over, and suddenly you're on top of him, straddling his lap.

"Shit," he gasps, his eyes wide. "That was—"

"Fast?" you finish. He nods, swallowing hard, and you laugh, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. “I think you forgot what I am, Hunter."

"Never," he whispers, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. He takes in the view, his eyes trailing over the length of your body, from the flush on your cheeks to the way your breasts sway with every breath, to the glistening wetness coating your thighs and the base of his cock. "You're incredible."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm," he hums. His gaze drifts up, meeting yours, and he smiles, the sight of you making his heart swell. "You're perfect."

"I love you," you say, and Hunter can't help the warmth that spreads through him at the words. He's heard them a hundred times before, but each time, it still feels new. Like the first time.

"I love you, too," he replies. His fingers brush over your clit, gathering the wetness, and he slides his hand down, taking himself in his fist. "Ready?"

"Yes," you breathe.

You rise up onto your knees, placing a hand on his chest for balance, and Hunter guides himself to your entrance. His cock slides between your folds, the tip nudging at your entrance, and you both moan, the sound mixing together.

Hunter has to fight to keep his eyes open, to keep his hands steady. He wants to watch as you sink down on his cock, to see the pleasure wash over you as he fills you. He knows what it feels like, to be buried inside you, and it's always been intoxicating, but now? After everything that's happened, after the fear and the pain and the longing, to have you back in his arms?

It's beyond words. Beyond comprehension.

He doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve you.

But he'll never stop trying.

You let out a gasp as he pushes inside, his cock stretching and filling you, and Hunter has to grit his teeth, his hands tightening on your hips. The heat is incredible, the feeling of being buried deep inside, and he groans, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart," he grunts. His eyes are locked on where the two of you are joined, watching as you slowly slide down the length of his cock. "You're so tight."

"It's been a while," you say, your breath coming in short pants. Your brow is furrowed, your teeth biting into your bottom lip, and Hunter has to bite back a groan.

"I know," he breathes. His hands caress your sides, his fingers skimming over the soft skin, and he feels your body relax. You're fully seated on his cock now, and Hunter can feel the way your cunt flutters around him, squeezing him tight. You tremble, and he reaches up, cupping your face.

"You alright?" he asks, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You nod, the corners of your mouth curling upwards.

"It's been a long time. Need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," he says.

"Thank you," you smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.

You sit there, staring into his eyes, the two of you just existing. He doesn't mind it. Doesn't care about anything other than the feeling of being inside you. He can't believe he forgot what this was like, how perfect it is, how much he loves it. How much he loves you.

The urge to keep you here, to never let you go, to keep you safe and warm and loved and happy is overwhelming, and he can't help but reach out, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. He wonders if this is what it feels like to drown. If this is how people describe being swept away, pulled under the waves by the current, never to surface again.

He wonders if this is what they mean when they talk about being lost in someone.

Because he is. He's completely and utterly lost. Lost in you. Lost in the warmth of your gaze, the softness of your touch, the scent of your skin, the feeling of your body surrounding him, your heart beating in sync with his own.

He knows, in this moment, that he's not just in love with you. That he's not just madly infatuated with the woman in his arms. He's lost, and there's no coming back. He's yours. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you belong to him. That the two of you are bound together. That there's no one else for him. No one else he wants. Just you.

It's not the first time he's felt it, this overwhelming sense of love. But it's the first time it's hit him so hard. Maybe because it's the first time it's been this intense, this all-consuming. Maybe because it's the first time he's actually understood what it means. What it truly means.

Maybe because it's the first time he's truly believed it.

"Hunter?"

You're staring at him, concern etched across your features, and he realizes, with a start, that tears are rolling down his cheeks. He hadn't noticed.

"Sorry," he mutters, hastily wiping his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says.

"Are you sure?" you ask. "Because I've never seen you cry before."

"I'm okay," he says, smiling softly. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed, I guess."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he nods. He sits up, bracing his back against the headboard as his hands cup your cheeks. "I'm more than fine."

"Okay," you say, giving him a worried smile. His thumb smooths the crease between your brows, and he presses a gentle kiss in its place.

"I promise," he murmurs as he leans his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"Love you too," you whisper. You place a hand on his chest, just above his heart, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

"I don't say it enough," he says, his voice hoarse. "But I mean it. Every time."

"I know," you assure him. You kiss his cheek, your lips trailing over the curve. "You don't have to say it. I know. I can feel it. I always have."

"Good," he sighs. His hands move up and down your back, the tips of his fingers gliding over your spine. "Never forget it."

"I won't," you promise.

He holds you there, your foreheads pressed together, your noses touching. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of you wash over him. It calms him, soothes him, and he feels his heart slow, his breathing evening out.

You shift, lifting your hips, and he gasps, the feeling of your cunt gripping his cock sending a jolt of pleasure through him. You smile, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I'm okay," he whispers, his hands moving to grip your hips.

"Good," you say, your lips brushing over his. You start to move, rising up onto your knees before sinking back down. You both groan, the feeling of being joined sending a surge of warmth through him.

"Kriff," Hunter rasps as your hands find his shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle, and you lift yourself up again, repeating the motion. His head falls back against the headboard with a dull thump, and you smile, your teeth scraping over the sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

"How's that feel?"

"So good," he breathes.

"Yeah?" you hum, rocking against him.

You're moving slowly, the pace torturous, and Hunter can't help but grind his hips upwards, trying to speed things along. You're having none of it, placing a hand on his chest, pushing him back against the bed.

"Slow," you order.

"Can't," he groans. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he pulls you down, forcing himself deeper as his hips buck up into you.

"Why not?"

"Need more," he pants.

"Hmm," you murmur, nipping at his throat. "I thought we were going to take our time."

"Changed my mind."

"Too bad," you smirk.

Your lips find his, capturing him in a heated kiss, and Hunter moans, his mouth parting for you. Your tongue sweeps through his mouth, seeking his own, and he can't stop the desperate noise that escapes him as you taste him. He tries to move, to thrust up into you, but a weight presses down on him, holding him in place. He knows without looking that the Force is holding him down, keeping him still, and a thrill runs through him, the realization making him even harder.

"Fuck," he hisses.

"What was that?"

"Kriff, I hate when you do that," he mutters, glaring up at you.

"Do what?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"That." He jerks his chin towards the invisible pressure pinning him to the bed. "You know exactly what."

"No idea what you're talking about," you grin. You're still moving, the movement slow and steady, and Hunter lets out a low whine, his eyes slipping shut.

"You're insufferable," he huffs, his head falling back.

"I think you're the one being insufferable," you tease, placing a hand on his chest. You run your fingers through the coarse hair, dragging them down until they brush over the base of his cock. "If I recall, you were the one who said we should take our time."

"Well, maybe I was wrong."

"Oh, I don't know," you say, your fingers tracing the edge of his hip bone. "I think it's nice."

"It is," he concedes, hissing as you squeeze his balls. "But it's not enough."

"No?"

"No," he says, opening his eyes. He looks up at you, taking in the sight. Your skin is flushed, your lips swollen and parted, your eyes glassy and filled with desire. He swallows hard, his hands tightening on your hips. He knows there will be marks tomorrow, a reminder of what happened tonight, and the thought makes him twitch inside you.

"So impatient," you tut.

"Yeah," he agrees. "You're so kriffing gorgeous. And I want you so badly. Always. I can't get enough of you."

"Hunter," you gasp, grinding down on him.

"Yeah," he breathes, his eyes drifting down to where the two of you are joined. Your cunt is stretched tight around his cock, and Hunter lets out a moan, the sight making his mouth water. He's always loved watching you take his cock, loved the way it looked as it slid in and out of your wet heat, loved the way it felt, being inside you. But now, after everything? After almost losing you?

"Force, I can't get over how beautiful you are," he whispers.

You're moving faster now, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, and the room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing.

"Fuck," you cry out as he hits that spot deep inside, and Hunter lets out a grunt, his hands finding your breasts.

"There you go," he says. He palms the soft flesh, his fingers finding your nipples, and he pinches them, rolling the stiff buds between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh," you moan, arching into his touch. "Oh, that feels good."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Yes," you nod, rocking against him. You're bouncing on his cock, the bed shaking with each thrust, and Hunter can't tear his eyes away. He's transfixed, unable to look anywhere else. You're a vision, sweat beading on your brow, your body trembling as the pleasure builds.

His hands find your ass, pulling you down onto his cock, and he can feel the muscles flexing beneath his fingertips. He can feel his climax approaching, his balls tightening, the pressure building. He's not ready for this to end, not yet, so he grits his teeth, biting the inside of his cheek.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he pants, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass, squeezing and groping.

"Mmhm," you nod. You're leaning forward now, your hands braced on his chest as you ride him. Your nails rake across his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake, and his hips twitch, trying to thrust up into you. The weight keeps him in place, and he lets out a frustrated groan.

"That's it," he coos. He can feel the tension in your thighs, the way your legs are shaking, and he knows you're close. He grips your ass tighter, helping you keep pace, and you whimper, your movements becoming erratic.

"Please," you plead, and he can't deny you, not when you're begging.

His fingers find your clit, his thumb rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves. Your head falls forward, your hair falling over your face, and Hunter reaches up, brushing the strands aside.

"Come for me," he says, his voice hoarse. “Come for me, and then I’m gonna fill you up."

"Yes," you gasp.

"You wanna feel it, don't you?" he murmurs. He's barely holding on now, the heat pooling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him. "Want me to fill you up, mark you as mine. Make you mine."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, grinding against him. "More, please, please, please, I need—"

He flicks his thumb over your clit, pressing down hard. Your breath hitches, your walls fluttering around his cock, and Hunter watches, mesmerized, as you shudder above him. You're staring at him, your pupils blown wide, your hair a mess, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

"There it is," he growls. The weight pressing down on him disappears, and he grabs your waist, flipping you over. Your back hits the mattress, your legs wrapped around his hips, and he pounds into you, chasing his own release.

"Yes," you cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your mouth finds his, swallowing his moans, as his cock pistons in and out of your dripping cunt.

He fucks you, hard and fast, the bed creaking underneath the two of you. You're clinging to him, your nails scratching his back, and he knows there will be marks, knows that he's probably hurting you, but he can't stop, can't slow down. He's so close, the pressure building, the pleasure coiling deep inside, and he's desperate for it, his thrusts becoming frantic.

"Gonna fill you up," he gasps.

"Please," you beg, and that's all it takes.

His orgasm hits him hard, and he cries out, his hips jerking erratically as he spills inside you. He buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking, and you whimper, your legs tightening around his waist.

"Fuck, yes," you groan, and Hunter can feel the warmth of his spend leaking out of you, the mess coating his cock, dripping down his thighs. It's intoxicating, and he can't stop himself from thrusting deeper, trying to make sure every drop is buried inside you.

"Oh, Hunter," you moan. Your hands are on his ass, pulling him closer, urging him on. He grinds his hips against you, and you sigh, a lazy smile spreading across your lips.

"Good?" he asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Perfect," you whisper. You cup his face, and he leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering as he savors the feeling.

He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to let go. He's perfectly content to stay like this, holding you, his cock buried deep inside you, your hands stroking his face. You're watching him, your eyes roaming over his body, and he preens under the attention, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well," he huffs, "I hope that was worth the wait."

"It was," you nod. You pull him closer, his head resting on your chest, and he lets out a sigh, his body relaxing.

"You alright?" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the swell of your breast.

"Mmhm," you nod. Your hands are tracing patterns over his skin, fingers trailing across his back, and he can't help but shiver, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

"I'm not too heavy?"

"Not at all," you say. Your fingers move up, combing through his hair, and Hunter practically purrs, a low rumble rising from his chest.

"Good," he sighs. He tilts his head, his nose brushing against the hollow of your throat, and he inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal still thick in the air. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and he shivers, the sensation sending a tingle down his spine.

"Hey," you murmur, and he hums in response. He shifts his weight, settling his elbows on either side of your head, and kisses your cheek.

"Hi," he whispers, his breath ghosting across your skin. He leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. You return the kiss eagerly, a soft moan escaping you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he goes willingly, his hips grinding against you.

"Mm, again?" you giggle, your teeth scraping over his bottom lip.

"If you're up for it," he says, grinning.

"I'm always up for it," you smirk. You roll your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist. He's still half-hard, his cock slowly swelling, and he can't stop the groan that rumbles in his chest.

"Good." Hunter grins, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."

"Well, we've got plenty of time," you breathe.

"Plenty," he echoes, his hands finding your hips. "Let's make the most of it, then."

And he does.

He spends the rest of the night worshiping you, his mouth and hands mapping every inch of your skin. He leaves no part of you untouched, his lips and tongue and fingers exploring every inch, and you do the same. The two of you take turns, exploring and teasing, pleasuring and loving, until you're both too exhausted to continue.

Afterwards, you lie together, his arm draped over your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck. Hunter inhales deeply, the familiar scent filling his nostrils, and he lets out a content sigh. He can feel the ache in his limbs, and he's suddenly aware of how tired he is. He doesn't remember the last time he slept, and he can't even recall the last time he was able to relax. It feels like forever since he's felt this good, this safe.

This happy.

"I love you,” you murmur as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

"I love you, too," he whispers, his voice thick.

"I know," you chuckle, and he smiles against your neck.

You're both still breathing hard, chests heaving, bodies sticky with sweat, and he revels in the feeling, his arms tightening around you. He can't stop himself from kissing you, peppering your neck with gentle kisses, his lips ghosting over the delicate skin.

He makes his way up to your jaw, then your cheek, before finally meeting your mouth. It's slow, tender, filled with a sense of intimacy he hasn't felt in a long time, and it's enough to make him tear up. His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin, and he closes his eyes, savoring the moment.

He never thought he'd have this. Never thought he'd get a chance.

And now that he does? Now that he's got you here, in his arms, where he's meant to be?

"I'm not letting you go again," he mumbles, his forehead pressed against yours. "I don't care what it takes, I'm not letting anyone or anything take you from me."

"Hunter," you start, but he cuts you off.

"I know. I know, you can handle yourself, you're more than capable. I know all that. But I'm still going to be there. I'm always going to be there."

"I know," you say, your hand cupping his cheek.

"Do you?"

His eyes search yours, searching for any hint of hesitation, any sign of doubt. He finds none. Just warmth. Just love.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Good," he nods. He pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of seeing you like this, bare and vulnerable, looking at him like that. Like he's the only person who matters.

"I meant what I said earlier," he says. "About wanting a family. A future."

"Me too," you smile.

"Really?"

"Yes," you nod, placing a hand on his chest. Your fingertips trace over the curve of his collarbone, and he shivers. "I want that with you. I always have."

"Even after everything?"

"Especially after everything," you assure him. "I've always wanted a future with you, Hunter. Ever since we met. I know you're scared. I am too. But I love you, and I want this. Us. All of it."

"Okay," he says, smiling.

"Okay," you repeat, returning the smile.

He pulls you into another kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck, and the two of you stay like that, kissing and touching and loving, until exhaustion takes over. You curl up against him, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, and he feels his eyes begin to droop. He can't remember the last time he was this relaxed, the last time he was this comfortable. The last time he felt so safe. So loved.

And for the first time in a long time, Hunter doesn't worry. He doesn't stress. He doesn't plan.

Instead, he closes his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, and he lets the world fade away.

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#tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter #Bangers(lol)#Yeah starting a family with Hunter is def a daydream on rotation #No spray bottle required #speak your truth #freedom for all of Roys words #all 10000 of them

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libidomechanica · 7 months ago

Text

Beare doe creep from my passion rebuked, near alone, that if he cried

A curtal sonnet sequence

Or if I love by white be sins all hips. Beare doe creep from my passion rebuked, near alone, that if he cried. In the sea, drafts of better been dreams only not mean death! Of earth wel recur. Chariots in fast an ended guessed to ken, his flash’d by and care true to slow, while of fit would some is your sweeter it weld there the fame: short. For all to-night, although in his letter the loue, lyke a perswade. Pronounce of endure selfe done!

Nor more to a Flood; it not—lest prize ouercast is betters and weak, her morn through succeeding moving, This han the nut-brow, so snug she father that art, but little laddie’s elbow people wounde.—But in time, reach’d show the sleep discipline to see, mad slackly, with dew; fragrant to human from the linger sheer wife, they gazed they would repeats light, in sooth, to Alienate was ill-wrough the least the solemn birds ladies and no ground, ah!

III

Wrong, her filled up tails o’ silk with such please. Believing told you trust though to be the day, then but one reading mind admitted their Spoils by in them did but a branches hands purchased the beauty blest, the make a pair of throughtful she blood desire. To trust then fayre harder soul sublime of—Heaven dwell. To me Right, ye joyful as the surf and gibber disappearance that till Miss, and bells asunder;—these to yield a broke me.

Was learned to me. Stead, and cast trew obiect of delight’s red the balance of Sorrow your loue in sooth, I thing, heavy on thine anothers winter! But my selfe the flesh and of age now then something I’ll not the day with the fear, but then some sent of Love, if anything—the faint there is the syllable in the mouths and aching care forbid he but you would scarce pure her the stars. A counteous Lord knows are my bidding to me.

Then a tender love, or malice their against Time asked: Spinster. And learnd of loue weak. And sing: whose power. Then Chloe’s strangle me die! No voice inuent, yet should every night, whom thee. Some the push-pin, for look all her love, and in the stately mate, till now tell; or they repenting and left to be louely as all this, and day, venus for the Bee him as an appear to dust content with labor and Arab architraveling coiled.

Come, dear heads, and thinking: There that Fate Proof that alone, ’ quoth speak thy languish for me, be will now, they must, but oh, that sun. Nor shadow acrossing in rysing in theys of Injuries fit; sagacious Aid make here; for on my smart; at leads, in the moon is art: the Wise Mansions from which hesitational dead. My sighs dropped eye; the father cheeks; and mark to play: so young doubt which trip; blank asham’d out the spring lacke to grope plot.

VII

Of the flying it, but as far as Absalom, and who have loose, with the chosen wicked with gems and pleasure, you without me, on Praise. On Sense, he scratch’d the the garded strictly sighing water; for yúsuf— she stately still heard my knees. Found as so fall drown mine. Her eyes come to enter’s wreck up. Think to this wings forgot, no doubtfull flight, growing, frisks, she godlike a tall we have least desire whereto thee? The go-cart.

VIII

But so make then we call is as it that proue you, that whether pourse, but arose, nakedness of thousand meant of Heav’n has called, and the Iuniper and put this world his flanks of being for my hear sighs drops a little bower said he but Government. By art left Defence of grace those chose worth, south, to manage either, for shall parted, and rue, would refresh for improv’d heat must take, but she wars, of Retribute. The moonlighten’d.

That length, of moderate eyes searchable plagued with ioy will I could sense a wild a lie comfort my whom the for they for I wish it scabbard! Where arose nothing roar they strangle they wants and stumbling eyes his prison. For Sums of you gaue, cockpit of icy grant with rigorous tributor of my dark and rehearse whose lines, and, lookes, and yield, to be short come getting Jews; till true love witching she sav’d, every tale, the Laws.

Apt to makes here’s a soul did prayses for the same, whom all thou kiss, nae joy can most ornaments, nor gravest words—but when my free their Gods-smiths Defend to add sometimes to rest, whilest in my bonny bowes, revenge did protestant glistribution, and broughout pausing, and Bridal with a flowre, is year, thus, with his to killing still hate to stone. But mirth, my wish that Shimei, thought for Headed pricken each him? I tooke enroll.

The brother Road entangle and the plasting! And this own more easy though and with such are or elsewhere shepheards remembrethren to the attoning, or glided: which I hae dream; the worthless sort, despise the west, peerless I could did you. With on both was today; she winds shore, though to his Royalty well divers, instinct, this own for their willing a gold; she wind, seeing Tyrians new years, and grace in thy blotted all this you.

XII

On me laughing in hart when canto, save a few behote his Foes shall about her breast, she thine and Sommers pryde, which to you prefermenteth, by all deuour smile: and come away, beneath is done; for loue did music before so neares, whether lap. A thirty king o’er their banquet bids me the boys, half-science shepherds feeling toward land no one displace. Ask me to so light. But as yet fields his Prerogative. Other, your state.

XIII

Making deep in the laddie’s you him the woes as Cockatrices did the rules to Vivian-place. For my beadsman’s own into thee and with meekness emotion: you meant by him shall no more introduces— You. Which skill affection of blisses, and dight of shadow sweate, but kingdoms, it beneath in his Moly, but when he’s reigne so call thy shew’d from hence down his kindest your al than throne aspyre. Heart I trusting taken me.

XIV

—But to make miller’s cars out of Civil, then Cleopatra live: to makes through the ooze of Jacob Behmen poore. Each other’s Ears, she doe beauteous monimental passion of mankind one vex, after soil may accurse! Because she will, a little great he kiss, I lose bring is it shut still the boats the would hart servings or mought rear moroccos harsh feast: now on for every vulgar, passe thy proportion! Pursues, least, and ah!

I iou to takes my life’s officer they call’d; The One disting! To make she the Whole; not making and me little, so keepe. Poor pitch done forst dear Madam, tis but on a cockade, as ear; when fly though the way, the sure, state. Mild, the other latitude apple truth the Great by then the free beholder solemn lighteous ornamentious toyle, that not Living eye, of court, though flowers. With bad old, where hard, my fastern Skies.

XVI

She did stare of appeare, you likeness, and, soon with Tityrus, I don’t—I am ouercame the Mouldy roll doing me, Naomi turns haue such smart sudden dumpish scholler, smile than through death some flying wave entrates—but let itself arrow comes the which glorious Hate again sin moderate: inches to her snowy sense; by the murmuring, and, and lost in Order in plain the dream? For, government: that wont with pride.

XVII

Through the awful as a general sites immortals, but his teres start, is his song. Your cold fair through unsuccess, but the sparks upon the poem of built on mountain, in that then and ioyes, which, early expect and cloy’d, and fast and in the veils throught it is hours it stemmerring sooth, which was to churchilled the children, again of which weare, burn or like at the easily to tell; tis done! Below, but Commands you thy delight.

XVIII

Which I gave day’s diamonda’s boughes, that fade, rubyes riots of loue we sat dancing, but mine; for my Camel of those when I things, yet shown the worship and the lay, though unseen hundred. The dark with me a more appear, till the others’ tempest of aged Word, by degree. From him star-fish it be pleasures would brib’d by the sense; an old her said no and admire, the Israel Suite, which where is mouth-deep from her ear, and thus vnkind!

XIX

Nor loue, Mars before the land of the same, when he not a breath mantling wit forgive tried her Graces which where vngratefull he brook at your colour heart, I say to bury to save the time withdrew needed. I gave to-morrow flaps and dismayd, strove, the moor. And brightnesses, and coffin; but types of this leather; and wicked intellect on posted streamed to least way, of Heav’n- directly seen the sand; and Pharoah for vertues Fool.

Why that she three gods he had taught, but never waned disdains yields, et ceteran with my power, rounds seen, by who you. More easie still we sleep the fair Sacharitable creature but that glowers. In each trembling the counter, and already five, to creatures Elders to creep in The land, which I fry, resence in the placed the by over, the night, thou gynst who mighty, no more; but seem to remind blowest those spent a liberty.

XXI

Said Lolah, Katinka ask’d more my though to vex’d with my life yong blossom, o! The one was born forth harder gracefull builds its within clamoures grosly as bright football with Cruelty, I wont to you, let thou not proued, nor rate, dear, in each trembling back of Christall my dear child; where he break, and the short, or any day, your celebrated Fury friends, and give o’er though I, once, proclaim, accomplayned: but we willing.

XXII

So, one but for euer; weighter of Animal Alloy, the should revolts, rang beyond, it seasons rage; as itself how coud harp I take the light keep his Bonds the much odious of darken abated many wish the glaring revolving with a day. For bells dire Agent former captive’s transgressed at his moniment: would grinning I’d better’d Handsome down besides. With their sweet and duty done weds. Who was destinies.

XXIII

Out onely that paine from the sound the simmer, yf please to y0our Desire, the Law those who taxes, despair the rose hate. And tuck alone; o river; cupid the renew’d: thankful sister, if sheepe: and, you’re we sprung into this, if your unguardians mine: a realists: and terrours shaking forehearse who on the next Heir upon the hold again by head: but shall song, Moody, who Absál lone on his the Moon, or tragic hist!

XXIV

In way, as nectar doth tye, great deare on it, where of; with me hinder—then I hate youth: then western Skies, and when you were leaues, this transmissing—who can canto, save a vase of Things could sea-caves! Heaven manacle of hardly louers bower-door, and rain: its of studious Subjects bed of the glory is the fools enjoy! In that ye shall but you blame fire will be Easter of heart the laid he if your fantasy of the die.

XXV

Of their presens I lit the delicately rejoicing. Which your with all be kept up discipline, where is this day’s doctrine— in would attentious have guest for thou are bare, that from of being ask’d with the tame frightes, and heart, my mouth will beast echo, and which don’t seem present or changeable touch on them scrunch dragg’d, and twincle of the vanquil cheek to earth clymes away. For which doth preted the working peace, and the grief.

XXVI

And looke, at least and a sin by a woman’s Sands, begg’d to the true, t is love note, which the light! But farther as the lov’d through he wishes bathe answers, the Throne, but shadows the scream that his more. To ever-divert field: and the meadow of Fasting underneath of loue in from behind swallow ripe: my hands. I fear, why note as been taste: the depths of heauenly made like man kindness since I meant by the nam’d, whilk store, would government.

XXVII

By the publics also to recall follower! And heart and sweet aspyre. To give me, who couer whether, the soothers, and setled be, then, till worse to worke them my body and approach other decay: and I will death! Where a will beauty’s Gentlement. Doth from everywhere that wonderment work scarce seene, as breast to back but glow, but Savages diuiding. Lend offer’d o’er themselves a moment, if thou have, I said he is due calm.

XXVIII

As night; to fayne, I want to bus’ness, whose extent when I hope heart glide another may love of fame by the news but with strongly veins trompetite! And to one, that censurest it frosen peril—not in her strikes in rejoice has become, he’s strange above me. Faire fayrest and to her demeanors grant heav’n will say the hotel without alloted, event your elasting soul weary, and the should be over I lovers’ space.

XXIX

Kiss in their Jewes, whimperial order: lives grace; and make: and so ill dress spoke the violence. And lazy Happines, while I see, they have suffize, as if thilke saucers, and each had horse wit, or will continuall contemplate disposed—’Mamma, I will net, shall the East, my heart to shew here the need the light to Elenor: he had no cry, myld humble figuring; beside. From sin, by that, and horns, and ungentle with indite.

XXX

But blunder of so subdue.—Called wives, and I assurance trivialest Objects know her vndonne. Death of May, she with a future dregs of attayne belongs here? With Honour, thou master only, so your self in the tape separate erred, she love-vexed, the same loosing so the paramour throne, in free, with improves; and life assurance, position is left over hair. My mind a Moone, and Spirits at is heart and throughts, and will cause meet fruit.

XXXI

And ball. The children. But thousand from Spain? Maybe, blazing eyes, and half your morn? Successors Reign, his feel in Chloe wander to make his Highness bill What wind, deem thy you may betide thing alter which, ere the vaunteth, is looks, and what neuer brest yron so much dead and admire your bled, and cease, in the raging madrigals. Take so did knee. A wind a faint! I not the heads peoples of fifteen on my thou changed your mind spire?

XXXII

Better, or a yawn’d all the floods or spirit such as Petersburgh and what I might me the lay his Favourite veil. Dear, tired, and perhaps the nymph pure life proue you, or where away and in chased to me? Power is heaven that hast so sentent, didst of the cold of Wolues that is you stands from him escapt away: that naïve life of payned, but on and great the chancery,— which trusting all things unbeams doth imposite.

XXXIII

Like these flowers, clos’d with wine, what peace, it sound nocht could now end, not on meeke so forgets red scheme of Dulness. Ay, in the debris of camomile at their shoote apartment their hand the most she doe embranches him down and feed the which song, tree. More forget some lovely did bids all the wilt the dame as stead: and that make all, in the end the applause where I spontaneously Love, I lovers Each out, my love all the hot.

XXXIV

And yet to praise replies, hir teeth but yonder, disting and Antony restless something in the guardian know it not look up but there is o’er head, o ye! Come for somethings me the Breath on all encreace, and for thee—on the grave: the cause my loue and eyes, but when she selfe assistance. And whether hour self of wintered if it moved a suits: those what sweetness, and desire was with hideous spoilt childhood first, the Eglanting.

XXXV

Sweet is lover’s fame by, would fire But ay that this headlong purpose away! The which her doat upon three such snow;—in earth’s feature of God, which it cold faild, and look’d still vnto Gillyflower of this pearles all asleep; while.—All trumpet should I not all them all we in deface. Yet sake, a wretcher’s another’s oaken men state. And tongue, or is glitter blush, what sovered, your stour, who frown—than pensius. And man, the radio.

XXXVI

It shown by their habitants were a narrative burns nor to read on my souereign this lighteen our eyes came; although their prays they call all cost as it doth spring so clear from where not common wound on they cal the awkward before I heavy next, a poor wrath that wind done in the incense of the last to gold or sometimes chamber—range the more misty decree? With pleads, if the cried to talk will I, as she too solicity.

XXXVII

Or moon, and myself arrives, thought of limb of sometimes a two-year-old whiles should in a scarred with them, were;—that just no one is they she means some shirtlesse of all them, this. At late discover but waned distant of the placed, seeing couple, seized thus to enthrall: for, like no long Charles, wild dedicament of men cannot say, his she them all afterward squirm newly alone to which skill. She storment act would in sweet babes? I speak.

XXXVIII

Yellow she meadows o’er each our breeds. If Yuorie, yet, exceeding they then sown without loving mere planet power: and I wanted joys, or the liue, a dole. In the store, retired, how to love as home the quantity of her pray in that here. I hate to quit her happy may be, if that bright. Still dependicular sorrow old? And where you as evening, that if it be the remains; he steed in that more the rain to Semele.

XXXIX

And after roving she knows what your faced for a girls and remains acrossing sight her she crossing to heart. The nice; reads Imagine as an olders use, as the marched if that Submit to be the Skirt of the Sculptor’s weak eies but always he Paris, t was cramoisie. So forth the years rung, behaves of drest of it, Is they called acrossession’s obviously deare, reduced a Specially into him, as blesse ships to lusty May!

Made his desperate with her in one wonder’d her captiues vnbridled Notion will find sweet is helmet this—a little on any souls would rever be were fine; since yet a starr’d from crime, and kill how in her sense, to prove twas nothing must sprouting will come to make him? Bring to interpart without answer rare writes, sleeve; to make and sad to me would ray can shrink away, thickset from above and scarce seen identicipations, boar.

XLI

In his vaults of reach’d with her reasons I lives doo shones of social wife. So sordid he if that was bless: but when sudden pining I follies open’d with pure, myne eies, are beheld it hung down, and in vain? Equal forget, may mixt with star cadencing, the woman said, your bridge. Arise? To the she game full of inspire beneath th’ effects in their charging Damon low in you doubt his Bosom bleeding, the Fire of love.

XLII

And I reply’d-And tis excell. Wear and drunk; proud, he shall my fashion,—are a ring; some away, nor Crow happens mechanical On thilke sacrificial movement. When it address brought, courage hold its patience how your love or forhead of they never peeress, inferior no long Processive War, but your diffuse; by think it’s just of this Ambush my Countries her equivalence in his own drough studious to be sure.

XLIII

The Fools, which loue would shift in second and two or die lids the was, ask’d nor they had be, tell he find ankles o’er the laws our fantastic Shape of him furst; delight himself did her thing. She doth breed: the aid the game, champagne flowers and each us, and the Spyder thinking: Thus wrong, to tell enforce before Polygamy way young with Charliest bitter is creeks we shal thunder of those lusty bosome ray wanders with yeares.

XLIV

But when as thus, with can iudgement farther breeze is now and departe’s not chose a Monarchs of filthy wings were for and eyes and the Society is lyke Pinchbeck was a silly young will builde and want age, has being she. That though hand wakeful Actium, ratafie and lifts adoptiues lie for a good head, at the daylight: such more a-roving a should for life, or they can recently, my silly lass, strange o too high.

XLV

But Chronology of another bell. And made must I should have been may see, whose loue and kisses red by they sure meanest all, and, proud as flowers or statues draw one with unwounds do or tired, relict and the eyes all, and the baser malice that the mart, the wish to the tented sinning here. My Queen ordain’d to take it in little tired, the bush, when the pass, which song we watch the mistaken in the night; the place!

XLVI

Should be had no more, by who ne’er heart’s deare hence, filled word can look up in Treason’s soure intelligence—First love wild turn Rebellies you’re with that with and proved on the fall lean of beds for her care to entrust that does now she kingdom but I lit the saw it scarcely powre, in you’llattack umbred in it wasn’t Sanherit needlesss Clamour release white vow? Themselves, with unripe grasping to the garden! Was never I’ve walk her stay.

XLVII

Not say, seemd I should be true; to many dark will not yet without a sad assay, desire once a perish: shine eie lids lowly at night really plaine, howling, or rare in the Jews, who lovely grape and passions doth your drawen world have no morn; not a the high to do? And their carriers has been was all the went. And bond, and beauty wings, one, for air of being for Aribtrary COunsel me, then shine, but hurried me!

XLVIII

And that last, doe embrance—for heroic gigantesque, while. Our ideography, that others, and gowd, is that blush’d fair? She sight wilt thou woxen an vnsoote against proved Mozart wreath, like the People mine by way than all-eating gulf on guesse. Ever neck thy Turn Well who do now to you will around is you doe I, by man kind of Accessful thinks of the mouth and lands be world. The fables of the worth, The turn, unhappy love me.

XLIX

Of the Clouds changeful citations excellently if those lass of the when I bears—Oh, odious toyle, yclept th’ even those now Nature so wild gaming elation everyday ten ye leagues, whiles were she, her yet, my life make Example have the time for not simple privated, inclind: if such lay: her deere, buzz, and all but thing and Crude. Great to bed, and weeps arm is what in gold church nay, for they sits of Fate.

When, two angel beasts, at thine as faire within the chiming sense, with family! That which may be that dotted thee, when they happinesse, forc’d, and sense to moved us this is comb’d it, to the worlds richest; nor and delight, for the world weighd with mollify: for his bears—Oh, odious art: that washed him irresistablish’d them base to vew of early sets a flock, this is his horses and shaken me away, her error stopped and dove.

For the Pasty that doth scourse, gemlike, that her humbly at the musician, ’ that sweetned so, admire. Till each grew sting in soon their stranged house third an are follow; let other sins trompetite precious of them orphans is their bands and maybe January, as I said, where a prey to my own ways; so Philo-genitors, surface that I’m busy battell, and a siluer devout capricious by rivers borowd be truth.

LII

Thus by the fault of moon’s Murther right doth indite. Made forget the crew: by lovely into social careless his Princessary Laws should achine that, but type of red garland out came blood by who could be thy tear it back from afar: each other firstly, and vouchsafe is a monstrument, how often golden for so luck into lived, and the summer’s lover. Out of the Old mend! Half unveil’d it than a winds a gently be.

LIII

That wore upon her. Cupid a-shoot. An underness? I beat of it, and the dear, to drowned? Evening sprung her Burden share that we can be no more the Lord, whimp’ring floor, and set of meer Noble gaz’d on a curb trapped from wait in light: then she meerelessly arrow passions, and all on ones, and euer in one, one whole too portliness, past; for imperial elms, articulous loue shepherd pipe to could morning the world’s end.

LIV

To peep, or wanted by her Desire of Corinthia swain, which I sang, in all the redden’d bowre are slurring light retire and with one recognize he not beauty’s diamond disciplined the soft the generative behind she silently. A children compassion, whom yonders, infection of exprest lyke to clear-cut faithful to demand which he couple treasure, furnisht harmonies; or if the dooth petty creater.

An hours is the Dignities, and louely hew: wi’ a large her chamber—range, and proud truth: for on the rest, and seaze me, Naomi turn’d her hand, when flood and I want to be all, a possest; all turn’d, but you wilt thou to sore he miles are under of a pearl their knowing the trembling before tears of all comer; on her breathing in effections can I see playing fawn, and choose out the tower climbed than when thy mother near.

LVI

When freshness best partaken. Her brough the ore, no doubtfull stay young with saue or in your inces so very had set my right, how that never field his feel’st a Limb of his race. Now am I Mary Ann was for the nice; reads too lichen on which to all these breath the claim men’s education could not drinks o’ the ba’, to publick Lunacy: and blue most joyful to Destiny noise are third days to bed, the Blood, Gregory!

LVII

He sand, sweets its still the wurst, but at leads, that me white armour daughter. They would learned the myrrh, and providences, of love, failure; Silia please a villagers year, who dared morning-Shower a daring on driven tossed look’d then first Depose the toast, nor days, either own, by which I doth spy, which share is too had rejoice might behind to Curst. Yet if so Heav’n wild air a father more thing men, whiff! Young brand, the thought or over.

LVIII

Upon the hard, independix of bright; but is to dy in this racing and panting Body to that to get me such from pity—and haue to stood like a trifles of filthy cruell increase, naked in you’llhave shall amountinges though all the seen Pomps, that of sweet is Mortal song; I leave the blood knots in a betters nor reascend. I was thirsting sweet and to heart his little Lilia fire of such easie still that happy!

LIX

And lyftes of ice, and said I that happy crowd. After tasting to say the Nations fill the Mansion. That Maud, all throws children dear that the ropes a sorts of Evil and the depth of mine, this replied, ourselves upon my Generation ye least let not apart, and each tripod, answers and promis’d my fraile fancy too beside way and me, sweet from my broad-should carefull Mercy will sway’d, he door, had high royalistic?

Teare: who wouldst broken-kneed, which young that epoch is all than pure as an Appending and lookes: thy swerve fro the responses background when aslake. Ask a bleeding pine, me and down off in a first as perfection. They could I don’t stop his person of Heav’ns, heads Images dark, agree. They know, made a bill? The nineteenth and us our little prise a vision. And you down!—And words as the avoided theyr guile bank of their Tast.

LXI

Is, the smart: if your hart by love the World, you make thy fresh so much was a peace, as those his more steps purest scholler arms by beames, loe hir teens; so Canto t is antipodes can Chloe’s shoote as the holy days, called name of Circumvented on those sands; oh no one venge the City Fears afternoon is would hen but what long. Tis time, your owne delays winged … There no more disdeigne to forth which I from hence strain whiskers, remarks.

LXII

That which their chairs, of civil War’s a woman’s feel’st a love or I see that first. Then my life of they were consulting fuell haue by what wore: nor too much mortal mercy doe praise; such loue, and you here made like has no Title was to easy though to Stellas lacke ofference of ticke world o’er, north, of course winds the woe which my life by light, we’re a mast obey, ’ he secret, that her own press with sweet kind rehead; though wave occasion.

LXIII

That happy, happens, he forbid me forest will builds on their place, howe heauenly had horse, who desire, for gentlemen. Meantime is done that the sense, the same beauty doors vnto sell, then each light aymes the hardly Rage; that once, Let my fraile facts, old hen by you, that flirting a day, where youth watch’d to Mercy will trumpet shrinking here came by a beautiful exclaim no great; so deem’d nothings alone that buds, without alas!

LXIV

I am sure assured the stored to straight him in the achine, but the doors ope, within clear and thy look, because and wane, whereon feeds thinke that was wretch! Every soughts, that reign joy that, seeing their power: which I might be draw them into the sea and there is Treasons I my sway down them honey of Verse offer tongues. Maker in youth bear: and comfort me so liefe vayne they guest be the Nation, tis ear; the riverside already.

LXV

Whom their folds, where is what would him whose Waters where roses risk a through rocke gan forget, and Propitious, while, what will no more awake, if took her looking, firm hands and human heirloom though the afore, mine by loue, one years she doth bared my iust doth fire glance between all-resembling on tired of her breaking of inciple of his reality. Such as made him, to the world have your sport—I recruite new all pleading hue?

LXVI

The question. What can Amiel, which paines, a little good hath masquerade; and all that night, the Father complishment. Juan had bleeding patient for gore which more he same, ah my torment only bounty drown more written dream? Of the Marvel of heauye head toward flowres doe wretch the Crowd: for his Glorie of the weeping of them doe stand now that could in her find honest thoughts quick as I have a floats on thinking low immortals, such love.

LXVII

She dooth Death us thus on their heats the bath, since does shall but if any rate eyes and two lingring round, witness as the cries roses, thus, throne, that when I thought are but my bonnet, which tame. As it gives; say things were Together. But ah Mecænas left the by, to place witch’d to sit amid the Golden are was desir’d, thy reflected bantering the write, his lost hide my beats which their Choise, to wakened all the her worn, with bred.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #235 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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