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k9wa · 23 days

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𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable.

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin.

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’”

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely– i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings.

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.”

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing.

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them.

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up— his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?”

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…”

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out. “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?”

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move.

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.”

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received.

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers.

his own dream, now his downfall.

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl.

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#i have a few leaks and drip marketing and thats it #but idc thats enough hes everything #boothill #boothill x reader #honkai star rail #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x you #boothill headcanons #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr boothill #also #i know his synaesthesia beacon replaces the phrase and not only the word #im just not writing all that #UNEARTHLY

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i-want-it-thaaat-way · 2 months

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Okay here’s something I noticed about Crosshair and Omega’s relationship, and why I think it was so easy for Crosshair to grow attached to her.

Basically- he says that loyalty is something that means a lot to him, and Omega is the ONE person who never EVER gave up on him.

All the way back in the very first episode even- they’re sitting in a containment cell and Omega says to him: “I know what you’re going to do, but please don’t.” His response is simply, “what do you know?” To which she says, “I know it’s not your fault.” The others were quick to wonder why he would turn on them, Omega knew he didn’t have a choice.

During Kamino Lost- after Crosshair doesn’t take their offer, Omega’s the only one who turns back to him. “You’re still their brother, Crosshair. You’re my brother too.”

And on Tantiss- he would dismiss her, tell her not to bother talking to him, but she doesn’t stop. She refuses to escape without him, no matter what he tells her to do or says to dissuade her, she won’t leave him behind.

The rest of the batch gave him a chance- they wanted him back- but they left him behind, even if it was Crosshair’s choice to stay. Omega wouldn’t give up on him, no matter what, even at the risk of her own safety and only chance to escape.

She never gave up on him. Even when he felt like he wasn’t worth it.

#anyway this is kind of a rambly explanation I hope you understand what I’m trying to say #I also just really love their dynamic #star wars #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #I mean kinda?#only if you haven’t watched s3 #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #tbb season 3 #sw tbb #Star Wars the bad batch

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nadvs · 19 days

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watch and learn (part seven)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The next morning, you sleep in, recovering from the party. Your head is still foggy as you scroll through your phone in bed, thinking about last night.

You spent a lot of time with Blake. He was nice and charming and all you did was talk and share innocent touches. He’s nothing but green flags.

Yet your mind kept reminding you of Rafe. And it kept replaying the sight of him kissing another girl.

Something between you two shifted the other day, when you dropped by after his dad’s visit. You agreed that you were friends. And then did something that friends definitely don’t do.

Then, of course, he took a few days to be a jerk. But last night, he mustered up a sorry for you, flirting with you again.

It’s almost like he’s leaving breadcrumbs, making you think he has feelings, with the possessiveness and the compliments and the looks he gives you. But time and time and time again, Rafe proves to you that he’s a douchebag who’s not looking for anything more than sex.

And neither are you, you remind yourself. Not with Rafe. He would break your heart if given the chance. And you’re not giving him the chance.

You see a text from Rafe from a couple of hours ago: you up?

You reply: i am now.

You open Instagram to see that Blake posted a story a few minutes ago. It’s a photo of a sign on the side of a building. He’s at a paintball range with his frat brothers. It must be another bonding event.

The text on the photo reads: let’s goooo red team.

You reply to the story: putting all my money on the red team.

He responds: I’ll win for you :)

Rafe has never played paintball before, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. His gun is loaded with blue pellets and he has Blake in his sights before the starting bell even rings.

This will be the best way to release his anger over the fact that he’s losing you. Well, other than getting naked with you and fucking until he can’t think straight. But you weren’t answering your phone this morning. So, this’ll do.

The field is vast under the cloudy sky, cluttered full of obstacles and barriers and embankments. When the game starts, Rafe has one goal and one goal only.

He hates how you were smiling at Blake last night. He hates how you touched his shoulder. How you laughed. How close you were.

Mere minutes into the game, he’s behind a colorfully splattered wall and finally finds Blake in his crosshairs. His finger presses down on the trigger over and over and over again, each pop loud and echoing, coating the front of Blake’s vest with bright blue drops of paint.

“Jesus, Rafe, I think you got him, man!” one of his teammates shouts with a laugh.

Even though one of his buddies on the red team nails Rafe in his arm a couple of times near the end of the round, the game ends in a blue team victory.

As the boys make their way back into the building, Blake shoves Rafe’s shoulder.

“The fuck was that, Cameron?” Blake asks, pointing to his vest, sheathed in blue. His smile is wide, but his tone is sharp. He’s trying to hide it, but he seems actually pissed off. Good.

“My bad, man,” Rafe half-chuckles, lifting his helmet off his head. “Got lost in the game. I love to win.”

The high from winning this stupid game is so intensely gratifying that Rafe wants to keep beating Blake in everything. Including in getting your attention.

When Rafe checks his phone as they leave the range, he sees you finally responded. He’s craving you now, but he’ll see you in a few hours at tonight’s party. And he wants Blake to see you with him.

He was stupid to think he could stay away from you. He’s going to see you as many times as you let him before your touches with Blake have more meaning behind them.

The “anything but clothes” party is slated to start at the Sigma Chi house in a few minutes. You and Liv decide to show up right on time to hang out with the guys and drink before the liquor runs out.

You made a stop at a party store off-campus to buy rolls of caution tape together, deciding to wrap the bright yellow nylon into haphazard tube tops and mini skirts, stuck together with clear packing tape. You’re careful so that the sticky tape is only on the caution tape, not directly touching any skin at all.

When you enter the house, you follow the noise in the kitchen. A group of frat boys are in the dining room, setting up the keg and putting out cups.

Blake and Rafe are standing with four other guys, talking as they set up.

Rafe should’ve put more effort into what he wore. He has a towel around his hips and when you walk in wearing next to nothing, he regrets it immediately. A boner would be way too fucking obvious.

Blake greets you with a side-hug and Rafe cracks his knuckles under the table.

“Hey, how was paintball?” you ask. “Did you win?”

“Lost and I’m wounded.” Blake’s wearing a plastic bag over his chest and another around his hips. He puts his hand over his sternum, the bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

“What the hell happened?” you laugh, placing your hand on his. He pretends to wince in pain when you touch him, making you laugh again. The sight makes Rafe scowl.

“Rafe went all Scarface on him,” Sam says. You look to Rafe, and at the same time, glass shatters in the kitchen behind you.

“Shit!” a guy shouts.

“So glad tomorrow’s thing is outside,” Blake mumbles. “This place is a mess and it’s only gonna get worse.”

“What’s tomorrow?” you ask.

“Family day,” Sam says. “We’re having a barbecue.”

“Do you guys have something going on every weekend?” Liv asks.

“Pretty much,” Blake in a bragging tone.

“And when do you study?” you say.

“During the week, fun police,” Blake mumbles with a playful smile. You hate the label and think back to a conversation you had with him over text about nicknames.

“Don’t call me that, babe,” you respond. Blake told you before that he loathes being called babe.

Rafe doesn’t know you’re saying it ironically. And he’s trying not to lose his mind. He looks down at his beer and takes another sip.

A moment passes and he doesn’t notice that Blake is trying to get his attention until he realizes seven pairs of eyes are on him.

“What?” Rafe asks.

“Who are you bringing tomorrow?” Blake repeats.

“I’m not coming.” Rafe can’t imagine even mentioning the event to anyone in his family.

“What? Why not?” Blake says. “I need to meet who raised you to be so fucking competitive.”

Rafe looks away the same way he did when you confronted his dad for yelling at him. It’s not exactly annoyance in his expression, like you’re used to seeing. It’s discomfort. Embarrassment.

You don’t want anyone to grill him. Not about his family. You can still hear the way his father snapped at him, asked what he was crying for.

“Sounds like you’re just mad that you’re such an easy target,” you say to Blake, primarily to take everyone’s eyes off of Rafe.

You earn a few jeers, heads turning back in your direction. Rafe’s eyes find yours and you glance at him to see a softened expression, the hard lines in his face suddenly gone.

“I’d like to see you try to play paintball,” Blake says.

“Yeah, you’re really selling it,” you respond sarcastically, snapping your gaze back to meet his.

“What other events do you guys have planned?” Liv asks.

As Blake goes into the schedule for the rest of the year - including a community service drive, a Sadie Hawkins formal, and a camping trip - Rafe can’t keep his eyes off of you.

He can’t forget how you stood up to his father, a total stranger, and told him to calm down. He can’t forget how happy your silly little gift made him.

Maybe you were just flirting with Blake, but he wonders if you purposely took the attention off of him, knowing what you know about his family.

You two are friends that have great sex, he knows that, but he’s staring at you like you’re more. You can be irritating and a tight-ass, but you’re kind and thoughtful, too.

Rafe looks away. These thoughts make him uneasy all over. He’s not a feelings kind of guy. And Blake is so obviously your type and Rafe is nothing like him.

He’s not stupid. Anything more than sex between you two would be ridiculous.

The house fills up with partygoers quickly, air thickening, music loud and conversations even louder.

Later on in the night, Rafe’s buzzed and standing by the keg, watching you dance with your friend. The way you roll your hips reminds him of how you move when you’re on top of him and he needs to force himself to look away before he gets hard. Again.

Eventually, he notices you head towards the back of the house alone and he takes the opportunity to talk to you.

When you leave the bathroom and head down the dark hallway back towards the party, you notice Rafe leaning by the wall, a beer bottle in his hand. There’s only a handful of people around, engaging in quiet, private conversation as the music throbs around you.

“Hey,” he says. He wishes he thought of something more clever to say, but he’s pretty close to being drunk.

It’s kind of sweet that he’s waiting here for you. But then you remind yourself he’s just horny.

“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting down his athletic body and to the navy blue towel sitting at his hips. “Pretty lazy of you to use a towel.”

“Nah, it’s smart,” he quips. “That tape is perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say.

“You can read, can’t you?” Rafe simply says, his hand ghosting over the bold CAUTION on your chest. You look down at the way his long fingers just barely brush over your breasts, imagining the way they were massaging you earlier this week.

The reminder sends a swirl of warm passion in your core. You want him again. And again. And again.

“Are you trying to say I’m dangerous? I’m not the one attacking people during an innocent game of paintball.”

“I got hit, too, okay?” Rafe complains. He brings his right arm forward, showing you his flexed bicep.

“I don’t see anything,” you laugh.

“These red marks are turning into bruises,” he says, pointing to his skin. “I’ll need you to take care of me.”

“I think you’re just being a fuckboy,” you respond.

Rafe’s smirk is playful and inviting and you realize you’re only inches away from each other, eyes connected and smiles mirrored.

You want to see him naked again. Neither of you had any pointers last time you hooked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re done learning, right?

“I’ve never gotten a ‘you up?’ text at ten in the morning,” you say. Admittedly, you were a little dejected that he didn’t reply to your message earlier today.

“You woke up late,” Rafe says, eyebrows quirking up for a second. “When’d you even get home?”

In reality, he wants to know if you were with Blake. He didn’t see you at last night’s party after he made out with a girl just to unsuccessfully make you jealous. Maybe you messed around with Blake and stayed up late with him.

“I don’t remember,” you admit with a defeated laugh. “I think I need to cool it on the partying. You frat boys never stop. I can’t believe how many things you guys have going on.”

Rafe breathes a sardonic chuckle, looking down, and you’re immediately reminded of tomorrow’s event.

Just like that, the air between you shifts. You’re both thinking of the same thing. You’re painfully aware of it.

Silence settles between you and you nervously scratch your arm.

“I wouldn’t want to bring him, either,” you finally say. Rafe’s eyes meet yours. He instantly knows you’re talking about his father.

Now he’s sure you weren’t just carrying on conversation with Blake earlier. You purposely took the attention off of him. Because you’re friends. Friends help each other.

“Yeah,” is all Rafe can say.

“Did you…” you say softly. “Do you not have anyone else you’d want to come?”

Rafe thinks of his life back home. His father, who never shies away from expressing his disappointment. His step-mother, who he has no relationship with. Sarah, who’s the clear favorite. Wheezie, who Rafe actually likes and sort of misses, but wouldn’t be able to visit on her own.

“No,” he admits. “It’s… I don’t have that kind of family.”

“Must be why you’re into this whole frat thing,” you say. You can’t stop yourself from trying to understand his complexities.

Rafe didn’t think about it that way. But the sense of camaraderie he has with his frat brothers, except for one in particular, does give him a sense of belonging he’s been chasing forever. He didn’t even realize it until you said it.

But that’s what you do. You make him think and feel things he hasn’t before and it’s so uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.

“You’re…” Rafe tugs at his earlobe. “You’re a really nice person.”

“What?” You laugh in disbelief. Is he being sweet to you outside of the bedroom?

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he says. “When he asked me why I’m not going tomorrow, you changed the subject.”

He can’t say Blake’s name.

“Guilty,” you say. You settle into eye contact that’s unlike anything you two have shared before. Rafe huffs, wanting to force away the tension sitting in his chest.

“I think you’re into this whole frat thing, too, by the way,” he says. He leans even closer to you, blue eyes focused on your lips.

“Not at all,” you joke, shaking your head. “I hate you guys.”

“Really,” Rafe mutters, his tone low. “Even me?”

“Especially you.”

“You don’t remember what you said last time we fucked? When I asked if I could put it in?”

Your skin burns as you think back to the way he asked you if you were ready before burying into you.

“You must be thinking about another girl,” you say. He won’t even entertain the thought.

“You said please,” he rasps.

“Well, at least I have manners,” you reply, looking him in the eye as anticipation curls in your stomach, refusing to shy away.

“You gonna beg me for it again?”

“I did not beg,” you respond.

You want to tease him even more, tell him you thought you were experts now, so what’s the point of hooking up anymore? But you don’t need it to be instructional to have sex with him. He doesn’t seem to need it, either.

“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about liking it.” His smirk is taunting. This cracks you, a smile spreading on your face again, your eyes trailing down his bare chest.

“Maybe,” you tease. It’s a lie. You’re not shy at all anymore. The sense of shame you felt around sex before is gone. At least with Rafe, it has.

“How can you be shy when you’re wearing that?” Rafe asks. “Showing fucking everything.”

“You’re one to talk,” you say, nose crinkling. The way you cock your head as you gaze at his body, your lashes fluttering as you blink, makes his gut warm and his groin tighten. Wow. He really doesn’t even need to touch you to get hard.

“And don’t act like you don’t like my outfit,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You shock yourself with your forwardness. He looks pleasantly surprised, too.

You hear your name being shouted. Liv rushes towards you, hands pressed over her chest.

“My tape broke,” she laughs. “I almost flashed everyone.”

“Really?” you gasp. Rafe is annoyed that you got interrupted, but he finds that he really likes what caring for somebody looks like on you. Your eyes deepen. Your brows lower. Your guard is down. You’re stunning.

“We should’ve brought extra tape,” Liv says.

“We can borrow a shirt,” you suggest. “Let’s find Blake.”

Rafe is seething. Blake. Of fucking course.

You offer Rafe a tight smile before taking your friend’s hand and walking in front of her to shield her.

When you find Blake, he leads you and Liv upstairs to his room, scrambling through his dresser to find a shirt for Liv.

“I’m not gonna get kicked out for wearing clothes, am I? It’s against the rules,” Liv says.

“No, only ‘cause you’re friends with fun police over here,” Blake replies, smiling over his shoulder as he hands a black shirt to Liv. “Special privileges.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you say with a laugh. Liv pulls the shirt over her head.

“Thanks!” she calls as she walks out of the room, a grin on her face. You know she’s purposely leaving you alone with Blake.

You meet Blake’s eyes, standing in the middle of his quiet, private room.

“Study fort’s gone,” you notice, looking down at his bare floor.

“Oh. Yeah,” he says stiffly. It’s awkward between you and you’re not sure why. “You look…”

Blake doesn’t finish his sentence. You knew he was a bit on the shy side, but he’s actually nervous.

You would normally find it endearing. But because of the intoxicating way Rafe was talking to you downstairs, how he’s so unafraid of telling you how attracted he is to you, you feel tense around Blake for the first time.

Still, intrigue coarses through you. You like him. You want him to flirt with you and to touch you and to finally kiss you. But he’s still.

Rafe spots your friend in the crowd with a t-shirt on. And you’re not next to her. He pushes through people to stand beside Liv and ask her where you are.

“Upstairs with Blake,” Liv simply responds. Rafe glances up the staircase, lips twisting as he nods. He stalks away, storming through the house with no real idea of where to go.

He paces around for a few minutes. He wants to rush upstairs and hurt Blake. Badly. Without a paintball gun this time. The thought of you being up there in his room, of his hands on you, of him on top of you… It’s too much. He’s grinding his teeth so hard that it hurts.

Rafe has had enough. He heads back towards the front of the house, not sure what the hell he’ll do if he walks in on Blake on top of you, but before he can go upstairs, he sees you in the crowd, chatting with your friend.

“I left you alone up there for a reason,” Liv says quietly when you approach her.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you laugh. “But the vibe was weird, so I left. I think we were both nervous.”

After Blake couldn’t finish his sentence, you thanked him for helping your friend and split.

“Do you not like him?” Liv asks.

You do. But you think you like someone else, too. And it’s terrifying.

Rafe weaves through the crowds, approaching you, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You watch him duck to speak into your ear.

“Leave with me,” he says so only you can hear him over the music. You look at Liv, who has a sly, knowing expression on her face.

“I can’t abandon my friend just to hook up with you,” you say to him. A painful pang of rejection twists inside him.

“But do you want to?” Rafe asks. He needs to be sure. What if your next words are that you’re with Blake now?

Your pulse is racing. The promise of another night with Rafe is electrifying.

“Yes,” you admit. He smiles to himself, pulling back to look at Liv.

“You gonna be okay if she leaves?” Rafe says, tilting his head towards you.

“Of course, if she wants to,” Liv replies with an amused laugh.

Rafe pulls you towards him, out of the crowd. And for once, he’s actually glad to see Blake, who’s standing by the keg with a few friends.

He wraps his arm around your waist, mumbling to you that he’s going to rip that stupid tape off of you, as he glares at Blake, who’s staring at you two with a disconcerted grimace.

He leads you out of the rowdy house, grip tight on you as if he could lose you again.

The second you’re in Rafe’s dorm room, his hands are on your ass, fingers dipping under the tape. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing him heatedly as you stand by his bed.

You can smell his cologne and his shampoo as his tongue runs over yours.

“You know everyone was looking at you tonight, right?” he says between kisses.

“No,” you scoff. While he’s helped you gain some confidence, you can’t imagine thinking of yourself as the most desired girl in a room.

“I told you not to do that,” he says against your lips. You feel the nylon around your ass lift off your skin as he tugs it away, pulling apart the material, tape unsticking.

“Do what?” you mutter. He grips your ass, feeling the fabric of your underwear on his palms. You lower a hand to undo the knot keeping up the towel on him.

“You pretend like you’re not beautiful and it pisses me off,” he says. Beautiful. He said hot before. But not beautiful. He never used that word with you. “How hard do I have to fuck you for you to get it?”

“Rafe,” you gasp with a giggle.

“How hard?” he asks. “Until you can’t talk?”

His towel drops and he kisses your neck, tugging at the tape bound around your chest. You shift to wrap your hand around his length over his boxers, aching for the feeling of him inside of you.

Rafe loves that you touch him like this now, without any hesitation. He rips the tape off of your chest, his fingers burning.

While you wore panties just in case, you’re glad you went without a bra simply because of the way Rafe breathes when he looks down to see your bare chest.

He fondles your tits with eager, rough movements, squeezing as he clenches his jaw.

“Every guy was staring at you, but only I get to do this.” His lips are against your neck, breath hot.

You tense for a second. He shouldn’t say shit like this. His words are possessive and tender and way too fucking heavy.

But you push yourself out of your head, focusing on how you feel physically, forgetting the emotions that have slowly been tacking themselves onto you like the crumpled tape on the floor.

You dip your hand into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his girth. Rafe inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. You drag your hand to his tip, feeling the warm precum and spreading it with your thumb.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“You like that?” you whisper with a smile. It’s exciting talking like this. You were always quiet when hooking up with a guy, but Rafe has pushed you completely out of your shell.

“Get on my bed,” he says gruffly, pressing your hips back. You lie down, watching his cock spring out of his boxers when he tugs them off.

Rafe almost asks to skip the condom, but it feels too intimate. Too serious. And he’s sure you’d say no.

You pull your panties off as he rolls on the latex and gets on his knees, sinking onto the mattress, hands gripping your ankles. He shifts and rests your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hands skimming down your legs.

He drags a thumb over your wet clit, gazing down at you with yearning as he spreads your slick arousal over you. You moan at the sensation, realizing just how sensitive you are from how long it’s been and how much you missed him.

“You’re fucking soaked,” Rafe rasps. “Who got you like this, baby?”

“You did,” you reply. The words coming out of your mouth are so fucking soothing. He can’t think about anyone else doing this to you. Only him.

Rafe pulls his hand off of you to grip your thigh and holds his cock at its base with his other hand, tapping it over your middle. You look at him, eyes meeting in an exquisite, mutual longing.

“Say please,” he teases.

“You say please,” you reply, smirking. Rafe shakes his head in disbelief and awe and desire, his hair falling over his forehead.

He can’t wait. He guides himself into you, slipping in so easily, feeling just how drenched and tight and warm you are. He groans as you take him in with a deep breath, tilting to feel the curve of his cock.

“That’s so fucking nice,” he whispers, watching himself push into you. “Your pussy is so fucking nice.”

His fingers dig into your thigh as he pulls back and pushes in again. You throw your head back as he shoves himself into you, filling you completely, the pressure hard and incredible.

Rafe’s thumb is on your clit again, rubbing in circles as he thrusts, making you tremble. Your mouth is agape, your hands above your head as he pleasures you.

It’s such a phenomenal view to him. Pleasure written on your face, your tits bouncing, your chest heaving, your body jolting.

You feel your stomach tighten, the rising sensation making you moan. Rafe starts to go harder, rubbing faster, a smile curling on his lips as he watches you.

“I…” you breathe. “Fuck, I…”

“Can’t talk?” he rasps, amused. You bite your bottom lip and moan a giggle, willing yourself to look at him before he has to tell you to.

His gaze is piercing into you as you feel yourself dissolve into ecstasy, your body going numb before it heats with the most amazing feeling you’ve ever had.

Rafe feels you clenching around his cock and he leans over to get as deep into you as possible, your legs bending as his shoulders push you forward.

After you come down from your orgasm, he places his hand on your cheek, dipping his thumb into your mouth.

You stare at him as he drives into you and you wrap your lips around his thumb, tasting yourself. Rafe might just go crazy. You take him so much better than he’s ever had before.

He tightens and you watch the euphoria wash over his face, his brows furrowing and his lips parting. You love that you can do this to him, that a man so commanding and dominant and brash crumbles like this when he’s inside you.

He cums in hard pulses, hips bucking with every jerk, seeing stars. When he slowly pulls out, you close your eyes, sighing in pleasure.

Your palms rest over your eyes, feeling high off the feeling as you feel him shift off the mattress. When you catch your breath, you open your eyes to see Rafe offering you a towel.

“You have fun?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to do the whole aftercare thing, but because it’s not genuine, you’d rather not play along.

It’s clear he wants you to leave with the way he’s holding out the towel, surely wishing you’d cover up and go. You’re not surprised. You sit up, taking the towel and wrapping it around your body.

“C-minus,” you say.

“What?”

“Kidding,” you laugh. You stand to leave and decide to let him deal with the mess of caution tape on his floor, desperate to be alone so you can pull yourself together.

You go so suddenly that Rafe watches his door shut with confusion. He thought you’d wipe yourself down with the towel he gave you, maybe sit a while with him.

He oddly wanted you to stay a little bit. He liked joking around with you earlier tonight. It was fun.

But you were so eager to go. Probably because Rafe is the kind of guy you fuck and forget, and Blake is the kind of guy you make love to and stick around for.

He knows that he’s in a competition he’ll eventually lose because he can’t offer you a relationship. You said yourself he’d be the worst boyfriend ever the night he told you not to cuddle him.

But he’ll happily take these nights with you for as long as possible. And he’ll keep fighting for as many as he can.

When you make it to your dorm, you sit on your bed, breathless. Just when you think the sex can’t get any better with Rafe, it does.

He almost disappointed you with his lack of emotion afterwards, but you’re glad you didn’t give him the power to. He’ll always let you down in that department. As long as you keep any feelings for him at bay, you know you’ll be fine.

After you feel a bit calmer, you check your phone to see five texts.

Liv: didn’t get a chance to tell you but rafe is down BAD for you

Liv: when i told him you were upstairs with blake he looked like he was about to kill someone

Liv: hope you have fun lol :)

Liv: i sure am… i made out with sam after you left… oops

Then you see a block of text in the next notification.

Blake: Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.

(part eight)

author’s note: thank you anon for this iconic idea!!

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#ps if you saw me say this series will be eight parts i updated it to ten!!!#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx smut #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron and reader

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ew-selfish-art · 10 months

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DpxDc AU: Soulmates only meet in the afterlife...And Danny is dead half of the time.

It was the general consensus that Soulmates did indeed exist, and that there were a couple of hints to know if your soulmate was, but you wouldn’t know for certain until you died. This was often devastating for widows of non-soulmates but... Widows could hear the voices of and feel the phantom touches of their Soulmates. That after their loved one passed away, they didn’t truly leave them.

Soulmates always traveled to the infinite realms together in a pair, unwilling to pass on without the other. This leads to the ghosts that seemingly never moved on and gave Danny so much grief, they needed to pass the time until their loved one died some how.

Danny dies and feels himself talking to himself more often while transformed into Phantom, kicking butt and taking names aside. Just small things to reassure himself, nothing more than an instinct to process the situation he was in with this insane life he was living.

I’m going to be okay, I’m going to get out of this.

I swear to all the ancients that Casper High better make a statue in my honor.

Mom and Dad don’t mean it.

The fundraiser to rebuild Poltergeist Avenue is going to be ridiculous.

Mom and Dad wouldn’t mean it if they really knew.

Nasty burger really should rebrand but my goodness is this the best shit ever.

It takes a few years to think about the fact that he might have a soulmate who could hear him- how unlikely would that be though? It’s not like he was haunting the person, so it probably wasn’t any big issue. Was there a proximity thing involved? Clockwork sighs and gives him no true answers.

...

Tim has been hearing the voice of his Soulmate for years. Not...All the time though. He’d mapped out the time frame by which he did hear the additional male voice, accumulated enough data to determine a general profile and geotagged a few of the landmarks mentioned to find the most likely town. Restaurants, street names, highschools, and notable names all help Tim to find what he’s looking for. The concerning amount of comments on his soulmates parents make Tim’s blood boil and motivate him all the more.

Thing is...Amity Park is under a complete media blackout. The challenge nearly makes him swoon, as if his dead soulmate were leading him towards his favorite hobby (taking down corrupt groups of assholes with too much power, cult or government, was his ideal pass time). He just wants to know who his soulmate was. He wants to know who is waiting for him.

Arriving undercover and unannounced as a random tourist, Tim cannot find his soulmates grave. Can’t find anything about the person who died all those years ago and had spoken in his ear ever since. He’s about to storm the Mayor’s office, his plans for the GIW already in motion, when a ghost attack begins.

Phantom arrives and suddenly Tim understands who exactly he’s been looking for. Getting into the crosshairs of the fight, Tim pulls a few RR moves and Phantom cautiously approaches him after capturing the assailant ghost.

“I’m here because you’re my soulmate, and it’s very interesting that you only talk to me during non-business hours. Care to explain what you’re doing between 9 am and 3 pm, Monday through Friday?”

“Uh... High school mostly. Wait you can hear me? You’re my soulmate?”

Cue Danny de-transformation, explanation of his death and ability to die on command, and Tim’s very softball interrogation with his presentation on how he found Danny through the small conversational phrases.

They kiss as the GIW headquarters explode in the background.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #tim drake #this could work with a number of other soulmates in the JL #It would be interesting with Jason or Damian also since they've died and come back #that got more complicated than i wanted to write tho lmao #soulmate au

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riyo-soka · 2 months

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Why tf were the dog and Crosshair consistently better at sensing incoming danger than the guy who was literally engineered in a lab to sense incoming danger. You’re telling me that when a brainwashed assassin ordered to capture Omega was literally in the same room as him, Hunter “overprotective father figure” badbatch couldn’t pick up on that but their new dog did?

#the bad batch #tbb spoilers #tbb hunter #no disrespect to Batcher of course I love her and she’s a good girl doing her best #but also. come on man #remember in s1 when he sensed a probe droid nearby then scaled a cliff and killed it with a knife to the eye/lens? bc the show doesn’t #maybe there’s a story justification for this but it’s getting kinda ridiculous tbh #they’re doing him so dirty

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kaminocasey · 1 month

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A Great View

WARNINGS: TBB S3 SPOILERS. 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut, fresher sex, possessive/jealous Crosshair, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex between partners (Wrap it up friends), p in v, maybe slight angst?

Summary: Crosshair gets jealous when Howzer flirts with you.

Pairing: Tbb s3!Crosshair x f!reader

WC: 2k

A/N: How GOOD were episodes 6 & 7?! SO GOOD right? I've missed this man so so so much. So excited for next week. When Cross said "Oh, I'm much worse." I couldn't BREATHE. And not to mention, seeing him in his old armor again???? Forever crying over him.

“Did you like the attention Howzer gave you?” Crosshair’s smoky voice is in your ear as he pushes you up against the fresher sink on the way back to Pabu so he can tend to your wounds.

Normally, this would be your job, tending to the batch’s wounds. And normally, if you had any wounds yourself, Tech would-

“No.” You shake your head.

He lets out a noncommittal grunt, his hand traveling up into your hair to move it out of the way so he can help clean the blood off your forehead. “Is that so?”

Crosshair was right earlier. He is worse than Hunter. But that’s what you love about him. Kriff, you’ve missed him so much…You flinch when he dabs at the cut.

He pulls his face back some and looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You’re telling the truth, though.

You tell him, firmly. “I just…”

“What is it? Tell me princess.” He hums, tilting your chin up toward him so he can search your eyes.

You can feel the other clones’ eyes on you as you sit with Omega, Wrecker, and Batcher at your feet. Howzer passes by, smirking. You look up at Crosshair, who’s suddenly more tense, and then look back down at your datapad. A few moments later, Howzer brings you a drink and you thank him.

“No problem. If you need… anything else… don’t hesitate to come find me.” He winks.

Oh. Uh oh.

You look up at Crosshair again, just knowing his eyes are on you at all times. He’s shooting Howzer a glare so hard you think it could usually break a normal person in half. Crosshair walks over to you, leaning against the table, next to you and then tilts your chin up toward him and kisses you so deeply, it makes your insides go warm and fuzzy with need.

You and Crosshair had been apart for so long, he wasn’t about to let anything get in his way again. When he pulls away, you feel slightly breathless, both yours and Crosshair’s pupils are blown and you think you may need to sneak away. Except Rex breaks up the moment, needing him and Hunter for something.

Howzer throws Crosshair his own glare and joins them, leaving you warm in the face, thinking about what you’re going to do to him tonight. Wrecker’s laugh snaps you back to reality, so you ignore him, going back to your datapad.

You look up at Crosshair, the burning need for him returning low in your stomach.

“I like when you’re jealous. It’s hot.” You smirk up at him as he puts a small bandage over the cut on your forehead.

Crosshair lets out a low chuckle, smirking. “I would say it’s more protective than anything.”

“Call it what you want, it was hot.” You shrug, running your hands across his stomach, landing on his waist, gripping his shirt.

He leans in close, his warm breath ghosting over your ear. “Yeah? You like when I let people know what’s mine?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He hums, kissing your neck and you let out a soft moan at the feel. He lifts you up, sitting you on the sink. This sink is bigger than the one on the Marauder, so there’s more room for him to stand between your legs without feeling cramped. Not that you mind the cramped feeling.

“You want me to take you right here? Remind you who you belong to?” Crosshair murmurs, squeezing your thighs.

“Yes, please.” You look up at him, eyes wide with need.

Crosshair crushes his lips to yours, finally, hands traveling to cup your neck so he can reach you better. A soft moan escapes your lips, traveling right to his, making him smirk.

The two of you had been together the entire war and then when he chose the Empire over the batch, over you, your heart shattered and you thought you’d never love again.

And then he got off that freighter with Omega and your heart soared. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense in these dark times.

You and Crosshair have snuck away every chance you’ve gotten since he’s come home to you, making love, desperately and passionately. So this would come as a surprise to no one, being locked away in the fresher on Echo’s ship.

He pulls away to help you down off the sink and spins you so you’re facing the mirror. His lips turn up in a soft smirk.

“I look rough.” You notice.

Your hair is a mess, you’re caked in blood and dirt and desperately need a shower.

“Doesn’t matter.” He leans down and kisses your shoulder. “You’re still beautiful.”

You roll your eyes with a teasing smile. “If you say so.”

He starts to ease your pants down until they hit the floor, taking your underwear with them. “I do say so.”

And then he places a swift smack to your left cheek, causing you to let out a sharp gasp.

“Go on. Say it.” His smoky voice fills your ears and you close your eyes, savoring the sound of it as he rubs the spot on your cheek that he smacked.

“I’m beautiful even when I look like I had the shit beat out of me?” You tease.

He chuckles. “Brat.”

“You love me.” You open your eyes only to meet his own in the mirror.

“I do.” He nods.

It’s a promise.

He lifts your shirt up over your head, unsnapping your binder next, with slightly shaky fingers. You notice when he looks down, frustrated at his hand, so to distract him, you back up against his hardened length, making him groan softly. His hands fly to your hips, pushing you down over the sink.

“Tell me how bad you want it, princess. Go on.” He urges you, smirking down at your naked form.

You don’t think there are words to describe how badly you need him to fuck you right now.

“Fuck…” You whisper. “Please… I need it.”

“Didn’t tell you to beg. Told you to tell me how bad you want it.” He purrs, sliding two fingers through your already soaked folds.

“I- I need it.” You whimper. “So bad. Please Cross… I c- I can’t tell you how bad.”

His fingers find your clit and your back arches up as you moan and his grip on your hip tightens.

“What would you do if I just got down on my knees instead of fucking you?” He teases.

All you can do is whine.

“You really want me to fill your pussy that bad, huh?” You can hear him drop to his knees and you whine again.

“Hush.” He whispers. “Let me make you cum and then I promise I’ll fuck you as hard as you want me to. Deal?”

He knows that his voice alone is enough to make you fold. You’ve never been able to tell the man no. Not to anything.

“Deal…” You sigh.

“Thank you.” He places a quick kiss to your rear cheek.

The moment that you feel his hot tongue against your warmth, you have to put your hand over your mouth so that no one will hear you come apart above your partner. He licks stripe after stripe over your folds, getting you nice and wet for him. Your shaky breaths only spur him on.

Crosshair’s arms snake around your thighs, giving you extra security to keep you held up and you silently thank him. Unable to help yourself, though, you push back against his face, the stubble against his cheeks causing a delicious friction against your inner thighs.

Having Crosshair on his knees like this reminds you of the first night he was home. The two of you snuck away to the beach almost immediately. Hunter hadn’t been happy about it, but it was worth it. Cross had pushed you up against a rock, kissed you until both of you couldn’t breathe and then he dropped to his knees and ate your pussy for over an hour. You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum that night.

There hadn’t even been any apologies until after. The need for each other just… outweighed the bad.

And now, here he is, a couple weeks later and you have a lot of lost time to make up for.

“Fuck, right there.” You whisper.

He hums against your cunt and then sucks your sensitive clit between his teeth before latching his lips against it, making you smack your free hand against the mirror. He chuckles and pushes a finger into your tight warmth, making you groan against your palm.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my face, cyar’ika?” He encourages you, thrusting his finger in and out of you.

You both know it’s not as good as his cock, but his long slender fingers have always been able to reach into you so perfectly.

“Mmhmmm.” You whine as he curls his finger against the spongy part inside of you, making that familiar warm feeling start to take over. “So good.”

The blinding white hot feeling rips through your body like a volcano, sending you over the edge, dripping down Crosshair’s face.

He stands up, gripping your hair and pulling back so that you’re forced to watch as he pushes his cock roughly into you, making both of you moan so loudly that he has to place his free hand over your mouth so you’ll be quieter. You don’t mind though because it brings you physically both closer. You make eye contact again in the mirror and he kisses your bare shoulder, thrusting roughly into you.

“Mm.” He sighs. “You know you’re mine, don’t you?”

You nod, mumbling around his hand, answering him.

“And you don’t mind if I make everyone else aware that you’re mine?” He whispers.

You shake your head.

“Good. Fuck… So good to me.” His thrusts become sharper, more purposeful as you clench around his cock.

You know you’re going to feel it later. But it’s alright because you know he’ll take care of you later.

“Where do you want my cum?” He grits between his teeth.

“Inside.” You mumble through his fingers.

He buries his face in your neck, biting back a growl the best he can as he empties himself inside of you, painting your walls with himself, just how you love it. Deep and rough. You’re sure to have bruises in the shape of long slender fingers on your hip in the morning, but you don’t mind.

“Shower.” You whisper.

“Shower.” He agrees. “But first…”

He spins you around to face him and kisses you again. This time, more gently, cupping your face so carefully, he almost seems afraid that you could break. His tongue slips past your lips, dancing along yours and you cling to him, wrapping your arms around him.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You look up into amber brown eyes, confused.

“For taking me back, even when I didn’t deserve it.” He whispers.

You pull away, staring up into his eyes, your favorite eyes, holding his face so that he looks at you. “Listen to me, Cross… Everything you did… all the mistakes you made… they don’t define you. You have to let go of the past so that we can build our future. Okay?”

You’ve seen how much he’s changed. You see the way he is with Omega. How affectionate he is with Batcher. And more importantly, how he’s apologized to you and promised to be better. You believe him. You believe in him.

He nods, tears nearing the brim of his eyes, so you kiss him again.

“Speaking of our future…” You murmur softly, smiling against his lips. “A couple days ago, Shep showed me a house I thought could be perfect for us.”

“Oh yeah?” He guides you into the shower, starting the water.

“It’s got a great view.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“Doesn’t every house on Pabu have a ‘great view’?” He raises a dark eyebrow.

“Yeah, but not every house in Pabu has you.” You shrug. For the first time, you think since before he left, he lets out a genuine laugh. It reaches your soul and you know you’ll do anything to hear that laugh for the rest of your life.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

#tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb s3 #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch spoilers

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queenariesofnarnia · 2 months

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physical touch

the bad batch x f! reader

wc: 942

warnings: some fun teasing and that should be it. a light suggestive ending

You’re a physical touch person with a bright personality, you have been like that since you were young. Your friends enjoyed your hugs, or whenever you linked arms with them while walking. They also enjoyed how you always brightened their days. However, once you became a medic for the war, you dialed back on being physical touch. The clones did enjoy your soft hands helping them versus a droid, and your smile always put them in a better mood. You often helped the 212th or 104th, there were some rare occasions that Kix from the 501st requested you. That was until you were assigned to Clone Force 99 as their permanent medic. It took some time, but you ended up getting along with the squad great. Crosshair took longer to warm up to you, but it was expected after you first met them.

They weren’t aware of how much you liked physical touch until on a mission where you called to assist the 501st. The way many of the troopers greeted you with hugs, even Commander Tano and General Skywalker did. You walked next to the commander with your arms linked giggling. Your squad looked slightly confused, sure you were bubbly around them but never touchy.

“Is she acting different?” Wrecker asks, as they watch you laugh with your arm around the jedi commander.

“I believe she is behaving like herself” Tech says glancing at you before going back to his datapad.

“She’s different from when she is around us” Hunter answers observing you. The way your eyes lit up when you received any hug or form of physical affection.

“Looks like our little tooka doesn’t get enough attention from us. Look at how she’s eating up the regs attention.” Crosshair says taking off his helmet, putting a toothpick in his mouth. They sit away from everyone on their own, they keep an eye on you. They watch you as you lay your head in Ahsoka’s lap as she tells you a story of a mission she was just on. Then once her story is done you switch places animatedly telling her a story. Anakin calls a meeting to go over the plan for tomorrow. You stand next to Ahsoka arms still linked together. Once the meeting is over, Anakin makes his way over to you ruffling your hair.

“Missed having you around sunshine” he say before wrapping an arm around you pulling you in for a side hug.

“Missed you too trouble” you hip bump him. “How’s Pads doing?” you ask him quietly.

“She’s good, she says hi” he shoots you a wink before walking off with Rex. Leaving you and Ahsoka by the fire together.

“So, tell me, have you even tried hugging your own squad yet? They keep staring holes into the boys’ heads when they hug you or pay you any attention.” She says laughing.

“No way. I’m too scared to ask. This bunch was already affectionate when I got here” you say gesturing to the 501st. She nods in agreement, laying her head on your shoulder.

“I don’t think it’ll hurt to ask” she tells you looking up at your squad. You look over at them too and give a small smile. Wrecker happily waves at you. “Go over there and spend some time with them. You know where to find me if they say no” she removes her head and pushes you up. As you walk across camp saying hi to the troopers that spoke to you, Fives stops you.

“You need a cuddle buddy tonight sunshine?” He asks flirtatiously. You laugh at his antics.

“Not tonight hon. I’ll find you if I change my mind” you continue towards your squad. Sitting next to Wrecker when you make it to them. “Hi boys” you greet them with your signature smile.

“ You finally had enough of the regs?” Crosshair hissed. You were a bit confused. You knew they didn’t like regular clones, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Is there a problem?” You ask looking at each of them.

“Yes” Crosshair quickly answered. “All this affection you’re suddenly giving to regs.” he points his toothpick at you.

“All you had to do is ask for a hug mesh’la” Wrecker says wrapping his arm around you, the Mando’a term of endearment rolling off his tongue sweetly.

“Are we not sufficient enough to provide you physical affection?” Tech asked, as he finally tucks his datapad away.

“Do we not give you the attention you need?” Hunter’s husky voice sent a shiver down your spine. You were getting flustered.

“What do you mean? I am getting enough attention” you say trying not to stumble over your words.

“Is our little tooka shy all of a sudden?” Crosshair mockingly asks.

“You were just blossoming from the attention you were receiving” Hunter says scooting closer to you.

“The way her pupils are dilated now, she is enjoying our attention more than what she was previously receiving” Tech points out. You stand up quickly not wanted to keep facing the teasing.

“I’m going to sleep on the Marauder” you announce walking away. They each get up as well.

“Not without us” Wrecker says laughing. You hide your face in your hands heading in the direction of the ship. A hand was placed on your back guiding you.

“Maybe you won’t get sleep little tooka” Crosshair whispered in your ear. You groan due to embarrassment.

“Save your noises for later mesh’la” Hunter said from the other side of Crosshair.

“I’ll have to record the noises she’ll make later” Tech says excitedly from your left side. The others chuckle at you, agreeing with him.

#tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #wrecker x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb tech #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader

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celestemona · 8 months

Text

WHERE YOU’RE HIS BELOVED S/O

but you don’t respect the law

pairing: neuvillette x fem former gang leader! reader

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

when you first started dating Neuvillette, the looks you both got on the street were pure admiration and a touch of envy. after all, it was no wonder why when the two of you exuded an unshakable elegance and the stares you exchanged with each other drew long sighs from even the most unromantic person.

wherever you went together people would whisper in delight, gossiping about your last date and pointing out on how you filled in what the other lacked. from your charming, mysterious personality to Neuvillette's seriousness and honesty, you and him were considered the most famous, beautiful and powerful couple in Fontaine — the definition of perfect for each other.

but many still wondered how the Chief Justice got his heart stole after spending the last few years rejecting any potential partners, because even the most senior citizens of the capital remember only seeing the iudex accompanied only by the eccentric hydro archon, to whom he served more as a responsible guardian than a right hand.

the truth was that for nearly a decade you had been in Neuvillette's crosshairs. or rather, in the crosshairs of the law.

what the hydro nation’s population didn’t imagine was that behind your sweet smiles and kind words was hiding an ambitious, astute woman and former head of one of the most famous illegal organizations in Fontaine with connections throughout Teyvat. and for years you managed to manage and expand your business without the goddess herself being suspicious of all the illegal activities that went on under her nose.

at that time, you didn't know which of the fontanian authorities to watch out for and so you loosened the reins. unfortunately or not, that was your downfall so you couldn't hide from the Chief Justice for very long — in fact, you actually did.

the only relationship that Neuvillette had for all the decades (centuries) he was alive was with his responsibility, therefore, it wasn’t difficult for you to use the art of persuasion and seduction to get rid of the main objectives of the man who was to take you to court and condemn you for your crimes.

for months you've been successful in your escapes, using your wiles, wits and contacts to hide any evidence that could land you in trial.

however, it wasn't until you ended up stumbling into your own trap that you found yourself willingly surrendering to the dragon-man.

it was only when you partially abandoned the illegal business that you then started dating, though. Neuvillette might love you irrevocably but he wouldn't date someone who was involved in fraud or smuggling — besides, you too were tired of your old life and so left your leader's chair to your most faithful and trusted friend.

although you now had a good business as a florist in the hydro capital, you still pulled strings to smuggle some rare flowers from Sumeru or seeds only found in the heart of Natlan to your shop. Neuvillette would usually stare at you in disapproval, but then forget to give you a lecture for the way you managed to distract him with kisses and sweet talk.

“last time this month, my love. i promise."

“ma chérie, you said that last week.”

“i know i know! but do you know Colette? that kind lady who always offers us the freshest macarons from her thursday batches? she loved the popularity of Kalpalatas in her bakery and made me an order of sixty of them, can you believe that? Kalpalatas are not easy to find, mon amour. no no.”

Neuvillette could only sigh in weariness, the silver engagement ring on his right ring finger glinting as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“make sure the goods arrive before dawn on tuesday.”

smiling mischievously you declared “i love you.”

even if this new life was quite different from your original character, no one could dispute how it fit you so well. even your former subordinates had only positive comments to make about how the domestic routine suited you. and you really wouldn't change a thing about it because you were never as happy as you were with the man who lay down beside you every night, and dawned with his arms tightly around you.

if anything, you wouldn't change anything in your life because that way you would never meet Neuvillette.

even if there was still so much difference between the two of you, there couldn't be a better relationship of companionship and understanding than that.

that must be the reason why that instead of running away again, you preferred to be caught.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x fem reader

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ma1dita · 10 days

Note

do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest

🐥

also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)

wc: 860

Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.

Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.

He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.

In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.

Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.

“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.

“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”

“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.

“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”

He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”

“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”

Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.

“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.

“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.

“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”

“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”

“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.

“Luke! Put me down!”

But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.

“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#trouble!verse #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐌 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: “That’s so fucking hot.” — Paired with Ghost on a 'drill' mission, you get to witness his sniping prowess first hand.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. Utterly self-indulgent. Shy reader (because I fancied something different), firing guns, very vague power play, very light degradation (barely there but it’s there), fingering, cum eating (don’t know if this counts but I’ll put it anyway), Ghost is very skilled with a gun.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

Easterly winds trace the curve of your cheek and gently waft your hair across your forehead. The pitch blackness that hangs in the nighttime desert air swallows you whole, your defensive spot illuminated only by the waning crescent moon. It's fucking freezing, you're tired, and you'd been staring down a sniper's scope for over six hours.

You’d already decided that whoever thought a sniper drill was a good idea was going to face your wrath in the morning.

Settled into the sand grains beside you is Ghost's hulking frame. His patience is remarkable, settled on his front with his finger fixed on the hairpin trigger of the HDR. He's not moved once since getting into position, the vaguest sign he was even alive being the blink of his eyelids. He doesn’t even need to practise, and you’re convinced he’s been paired with you simply because he pities you being a shit shot.

"Do you not have pins and needles?" You grumble, the crosshair in your field of vision blurring into a shapeless mush after gazing at it for so long, "I swear I've got a dead leg."

"No." Simon's answer is definitive. You're unsure if you believe him at first, but he squeezes the trigger without warning. The gun cracks, firing its round, and you almost jump out of your skin at the sudden break of silence. "What the fuck, Simo-"

Disbelief stalls your loud complaint, the image of a body-shaped target with a bullet hole dead centre of the cross in the inner circle's fixed point making your jaw drop.

Simon settles back, shedding the shell casing from the HDR and effortlessly loading a second round. It's like breathing for him, the sniper rifle like a body part that worked as seamlessly as his arms or legs.

It slips out, your inner dialogue somehow managing to worm its way out of your lips before you can swallow down the mortifying comment.

"That's so fucking hot..."

Simon doesn't seem to respond at first, but your cheeks are already heating up in embarrassment as you try to backpedal. "I mean- I mean, I'm sure most girls at home would find that really hot! You must have so many girls asking you out when you go home- Half of Manchester, I bet!"

You laugh awkwardly, holding your own sniper weapon in a death grip. You wish the sand would sink beneath you, dropping you into the depths below.

"Not really," Simon's rumbling voice cuts through the desert silence. It makes your humiliation even worse, and you squeeze your eyes shut and plan to request a transfer with Captain Price the moment you return to base. Or even hand in your resignation letter. You'd never have to fear running into Simon on another team that way—

"Delta," Ghost's gruff voice cuts through your downward spiral. You open your eyes and glance over at him apprehensively. He's still staring down the scope of his rifle, mask concealing his expression from you. Undoubtedly he was enjoying making you feel stupid.

A heavy hand settles on the back of your thigh, and you suddenly exhale the oxygen in your lungs as though someone has popped the membrane with a pin. Ghost doesn't look up from the scope; his attention is focused on the target over seven-hundred meters away.

"G-Ghost-" Your voice tremors, and you wish you could blame it on the chill in the desert air. Instead, it's Simon's palm slowly tracing up your thigh, palm squeezing gently at the globe of your ass.

"Quiet," he orders, and you nod quickly, falling in line at the sound of his authoritative 'lieutenant voice'. He continues his advance, pushing his fingertips under the waistband of your khaki cargos at the small of your back.

Simon hesitates. He offers you a chance to wave him off, but you can't think of anything worse— he's touching you, sparking your skin hot beneath his slow, deliberate touches.

Breaching the waistband of your pants, he ensures that he inches his hand below your panties, too, fingertips tracing the naked curve of your ass as they continue their descent. You whimper softly, impatient, but the sound dies in your throat when you see Ghost's irises flick to you in a warning.

Quiet, I said.

Swallowing back any more noises of complaint, you spread your legs ever so slightly for him. A rumble of content sound from his chest, and Simon aims his sight down the scope of his rifle again.

Simon's fingers sink into your fluttering cunt from behind. The stretch alone has you biting down on your knuckles in an attempt to smother the yelp that threatens to breach your mouth.

What makes it worse is Simon's blatant nonchalance. He adjusts the positioning of his Sniper to mitigate the desert breeze with one hand. Meanwhile, his fingers sink deeper into you, easing in and out until you hear the slick sounds of your cunt swallowing his digits.

It's pathetic. Ghost'll probably taunt you relentlessly for it, but you rock back onto his hand as his fingers tease your spasming walls.

"O-Oh, fuck-" you choke out, breathless, as you lower your head and brace against the rising bliss in your abdomen. Again, Ghost's eyes flick over, cautioning you.

"I'm tryin'a focus," he scolds you flatly, pushing his thumb into your clit harshly. You yelp at the sudden pressure, the arc of pleasure that whips up your spine.

"W-What can you possibly be fo-ohh-" you moan out, losing your sentence as he slowly begins to circle your clit with his battle-calloused thumb.

"On this," Simon hums, and again the crack of his sniper rifle jolts your body in shock. Fuck- but he keeps rubbing at your clit, sinking his fingers deeper into you as he searches for your g-spot.

Your head whips up as your cunt flutters around his digits, looking down the scope. Again, Ghost has hit the target perfectly— slap bang in the middle of its forehead.

Honestly, you could have cum from that alone, but Ghost's fingers are retreating just as your orgasm surges. You whine loudly, looking over your shoulder to see him remove his hands from your pants despite your protests and use his thumb to push the bottom of his ski mask over his mouth.

Sinking his fingers into his mouth, he groans as he tastes you. It's the most sordid sound you've ever heard, the noise settling deep into your abdomen as you watch him lick his fingers clean.

Simon knows what he's doing, knows he has you on the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm, but ignores your heavy breathing and desperate gaze to nod his head at the target.

"Your turn. Best stop your hands from shaking, love. Get him between the eyes, and I might let you cum."

join the taglist here:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @Malici0uspuff1n @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @im-still-alive2020 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57

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decembermidnight · 29 days

Text

Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him.

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again.

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen.

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus.

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate.

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.” You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected. The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his.

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on.

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man.

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most.

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you.

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close.

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants.

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body.

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear.

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina."

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him.

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock.

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure.

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels.

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that.

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts.

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine."

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan.

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

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