#it helps my little clone loving heart

[cheralith]

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, use of she/her pronouns, "mother"/"daughter"/"wife" used, parental death, mentions of child abandonment, not too much mention of him being spider-man

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, hints of pining, just some good ol' fluff for everyone's current favorite dilf, angst w/ comfort, heavy need of editing prob, not beta read

notes ; purely self-indulgent to fuel my love of found family trope apologies

parts: one two three four (tba)

Single Father!Miguel O'Hara whose life revolves essentially around one person—his daughter—but to be one of the heads of America’s largest corporation and bearing the responsibility of keeping Nueva York safe and sound whilst simultaneously being a single father was not exactly something that Miguel O’Hara could juggle so easily. Hell, he’s even surprised that he’s made it so far without losing his absolute sanity considering he couldn’t even recall the last time he was able to rest properly without his attention being wavered to something or someone else.

Single Father!Miguel whose hands always filled to the brim with tasks and obligations. Miguel wished he was able to clone himself twice in order to have three Miguel O’Haras attending to each of his duties soundly, but alas, Alchemax and the matter of his mind can only do so much.

Single Father!Miguel whose ever so lucky to have you as his assistant to at least help with two out of three of them. You entered the picture around three years ago, when he had caught the eye of his superiors and had used his intelligence to their own advantage, disguising it as a promotion of sorts. You were given as some sort of gift to them as a way to help ease his workload and he truly couldn’t be more thankful for your existence—if he doesn’t necessarily show it most of the time from his stoic countenance he masks on 24/7. While not exactly a carbon copy of him, you, by far, come rather close, and Miguel will take whatever comes to him in this day and age.

Single Father!Miguel who notices that you're obedient and demure, though rather soft spoken and a little too apprehensive for his liking at times (he had noticed, before you became his assistant, that your coworkers would shovel their workload onto you and you’d accept with little complaint but evident hesitation; he wonders if it was the given similarities between you and him that made him choose you as his assistant). You dressed well, hung onto every word he said, and spoke out when properly needed. You were a good aid to have around—great, even.

Single Father!Miguel who trusts you as both his assistant and a human being enough to leave his precious daughter in your care knowing full well she would be in good hands. Sometimes Alchemax would work him overtime, sometimes his duties as Spider-Man would interfere. No matter what it was, it delayed him from seeing and attending to his daughter’s needs, and thus, he had asked you once in a while to pick up and babysit his daughter after your usual 9-5.

Single Father!Miguel who, at the beginning, once in a while asked you to pick his daughter up from school. Once in a while turned into occasionally. Occasionally turned into sometimes. Sometimes turned into constantly, and next thing Miguel knew, you were the one that his daughter and teachers would look out for during school pick up time. He didn’t expect that you would become his assistant even outside of work, but you did, and Miguel can’t exactly turn back time now. He’s labeled you as his child’s unofficial secondary caretaker—you’re even listed as an emergency contact.

Single Father!Miguel who thinks you’re too polite for your own good. Miguel had asked you once if this was a burden, being his assistant both in and out of Alchemax, and if it became too much that you were more than free to quit at any sudden time without consequence. You had merely replied that you understood the struggles of being a single parent and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for help when it was needed. 

Single Father!Miguel who notices that Gabriella views you more than just her occasional babysitter. When he'd come home late at night, he was usually greeted by you two doing something together, whether it be doing math homework together, baking cookies, you reading aloud to her, or just simply talking, he'd always catch you and her almost... bonding.

Single Father!Miguel who often dwells on the memory of young Gabriella asking innocently why she doesn't have two parents like the rest of her classmates, why she only had one parent compared to everyone else after witnessing she was the odd one out during Family Day. Miguel didn't, and still doesn't, have the courage to tell her that her real mother had abandoned her to him, leaving Miguel in the dust. Miguel used her naivety to his advantage. He disguised it as her being unique compared to others, that some moms just came later in life; she just happened to be a late bloomer.

Single Father!Miguel who always thanks you for staying late tucking Gabriella into bed when he couldn't. You constantly tell him that it's truly no problem, but he insists on thanking you every time and ever so subtly increasing your paycheck. How could he not? Especially considering the fact you always, always whip him up extra dinner that was tucked away for him to eat during the late hours of night.

Single Father!Miguel who feels uneasy as he opens up a fridge to find the said pasta left by you one night in a glass tupperware container, staring at how neatly it’s been plated despite its standard container. He juts it into the microwave as he attempts to ignore how quiet and desolate the kitchen and the apartment is, how the humming of the microwave and the humdrum of the ceiling fan are the only noise that floats through. And when he quietly eats the pasta serving meant for one, he can’t help but gaze longingly at the empty seat across the dining table, where someone else should be seated with him sharing the same meal.

Single Father!Miguel who finally has the time to pick up his daughter after school for once in the school year, but forgot to tell you that you were able to take the rest of the day off. So you, him, Gabriella, and essentially everyone are surprised when both you and Miguel show up to pick Gabriella up after school. One of the teachers goes to gush about how she's excited to meet Gabriella's dad and what a beautiful family you all are, to which you and Miguel, evidently flustered, explain loosely your relationship to each other and how it's merely professional (to one curly-headed third grader, though, it's not—but she'd never tell you and her father that. At least not now.).

Single Father!Miguel who tags along to Gabriella's after school soccer practice for once and despite your protests about you not wanting to interfere "family time", Miguel and his daughter convince you to come watch her like you usually did on Wednesdays. He says he doesn't mind at all and if anything, could use your presence there to ease his nerves since he'd be a newcomer to the soccer parent group.

Single Father!Miguel who watches attentively to how you support Gabriella on the field from the sidelines. He wonders tenaciously if you've fallen into routine of this—from helping her get ready into her uniform to offering small suggestions that help her on the soccer field. He doesn't miss the way her eyes go towards you whenever she did something right and he especially catches onto the fact that she would gush in pure happiness from your approval when you would throw a thumbs up or a delighted nod.

Single Father!Miguel who merely blinks at the compliments given by the two friendly soccer mom next to him.

"Gabi does certainly look a lot like you, but she still has (Y/N)'s beauty and kindness, doesn't she?"

"Oh yes, I agree. Your wife is nothing less of lovely, you know, you're a very lucky man, Mr. O'Hara!"

He's so caught up in trying to process both their words and Gabriella's action on the field, that it doesn't register to him until a few moments later. Miguel attempts to butt in, saying that you're just his subordinate, but when a loud cheer from the other team erupts through, his words fail him.

Single Father!Miguel whose mind is still so stuck on what the soccer moms had said about you that he didn't even realize Gabriella had made the winning goal for today's practice match. Lying through his teeth when asked about if he saw it from her, he realizes that perhaps he should start viewing you in a different light rather than just his daughter's babysitter because the way that Gabriella looks at you with such elation when you congratulate her on her win pulls at his heartstrings ever so slightly.

Single Father!Miguel who contemplates over and over again if he should be doing this—inviting you to Gabriella's first game of the season—the two purchased tickets he held in his fist. You've entered his home a dozen of times, but this would be the first time in three years that he was outside of your own residence. He thinks he's too dressed up for the occasion, cladded in a white button up and black dress pants. A voice asks him if he's his daughter's boyfriend, and Miguel whips around to face an elderly man with a questioned look on his face.

Single Father!Miguel who realizes that it's your father standing in front of him, spare key in hand. He's quick to say no (to your father's disappointment), and introduces himself as your superior. Your father invites Miguel inside your apartment, telling him that you were out fetching groceries and jokingly mentions he uses this opportunity to sneakily fill your cabinets and fridge of food. Your father complains you're too independent for your own good, but he can't exactly blame you—you grew up that way.

Single Father!Miguel who learns that once in your life you were just like his daughter and that in one point in your father's life, he was just like Miguel. All details shared from him, he learns that your mother passed away early in your life due to cancer and ultimately left you and your father to fend for yourselves. Your father tells Miguel that you often had helped out even when you didn't need to—and it doesn't take long for Miguel to piece the pieces together. Why you barely complain about the extra workload, why your father said you're too autonomous, and why all those years ago you not only sympathized with Miguel, but understood his situation as you came from the same exact upbringing.

Single Father!Miguel who listens intently when your father quietly tells him that all he wants for you is to find a good man that would be able to take care of you properly because he believes he wasn't able to. Miguel is quick to reassure him, however, that he did a fantastic job raising a selfless, humble woman that grew to be compassionate and considerate of others' needs, that you were the hardest worker he had ever seen and that he shouldn't discredit himself. Your father goes to examine Miguel for a moment before letting out a loud, haughty laugh in your apartment and jokingly (not really) tells Miguel he hopes that you'll marry him one day, or at least someone like him.

Single Father!Miguel whose resolve dissipates when you walk into your apartment to find your boss and your father talking amongst each other. He sits silently and awkwardly as you complain to your father about dropping by without any warning before you ask him what was he doing here in the first place. Your father takes his leave, winking at Miguel with a glint in his eye, leaving you two in your apartment alone.

Single Father!Miguel who finally gathers up the courage to ask you if you'd like to attend Gabriella's soccer game with him. You interject with visible hesitation, telling him that it was implied that it was a family-only event and you'd hate to intrude onto something so intimate, but he's quick to reassure you that his daughter would love to have you there considering all the help you had given her during her practices—if anything, she would need you there for your support.

Single Father!Miguel who tells you that Gabriella had shown visible distress last night when Miguel told her that you might not be able to come due to your non-familial relationship with them. He almost begged you to come with them, as Gabriella had even threatened to quit soccer altogether if you weren't there to witness her first game. When you give in after moments of contemplation, Miguel truly couldn't believe his luck.

Single Father!Miguel who roots alongside you for Gabriella and her team, watching oh so closely just in case someone from the other team did a dirty trick on his precious daughter. He'd sometimes occasionally glance at you, only to see you completely zoned in and focused on Gabriella's playing like the rest of the parents, offering your support through compliments and encouragements that his daughter always caught and would visibly improve from. When she finally scores the winning goal per usual, she's quick to ignore the cheers coming from her teammates and parents to run off the field and not look for Miguel first, but for you.

"Did you see me?!" Gabriella exclaims excitedly as she flings her arms around your waist. "Did you see what I did?!"

"I did, yes," you laugh, attempting not to stumble over from the impact with visible glee and crouch down to her height. Pride written all over your face, you grin. "And I'm so incredibly proud of you."

"It's 'cause I did what you taught me," she declares. "I pointed first and then I shooted!" She uses hand gestures to reanimate her play on the field.

"Shot, Gabi," you correctly gently, your fingers going to automatically comb out the tangles out of her hair like you usually did after practices. "It does come handy, doesn't it?"

"Yeah!" Her eyes go to see Miguel, who doesn't stalk too far behind with open arms and the same proud look painted on his face. "Dad! Didja see me?! Didja see that I scored?!"

Miguel lets out a once-in-a-blue-moon chuckle and lifts his daughter into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck in an affirming hug. "I saw very clearly, mi cariño, and I can't wait to brag about how my daughter scored the winning shot for her team," he compliments warmly.

Gabriella goes to point gleefully in your direction. "It was all because of Miss. (Y/N)," she declares, not knowing that her statement would make a rush of heat bloom onto your face.

"O-oh no... I only... w-well," you stammer out meekly, trying to find the right words. "I'm actually not too knowledgeable on soccer... I only repeated what I found online and—"

"Thank you," Miguel starts off fondly. "(Y/N), truly. Thank you."

You stare at him. "Mr. O'Hara..."

He sets Gabriella down for her to join her rejoicing teammate and pats the small of your back with a grateful look plastered on his face. You were so used to seeing the rather stoic and often tired side of Miguel O'Hara that you forgot he, too, was capable of smiling at times, so when you spotted the small of a grin on his lips that was for you specifically, you felt something in your chest jerk a little bit.

"If it weren't for you being here," he starts off quietly so only you can hear. "Gabi wouldn't have participated at all. She wanted you to come so she'd have enough courage to play because she was so used to you supporting her," Miguel glances at his daughter giggling about on the field. "So it was understandable that if her biggest supporter wasn't here to cheer her on, she wouldn't exactly do her best."

You blink slowly at him, digesting his words in order to truly savor them for all that they were. "I was just—"

"—doing your job?" Miguel finishes for you. He shakes his head. "Last time I remember, 'attending your boss's daughter's soccer games' wasn't on your job description," he says, earning a soft chuckle out of you despite his rather flat tone.

"I suppose so," you murmur with an evident warmth in your eyes, one that Miguel is sure Gabriella has seen numerous times and will continue to welcome as long as you're around.

So when after a dinner celebration at her favorite restaurant, after the star player is tucked into bed after a long day's work, Miguel takes it upon himself to do the what he thought was the impossible for him but possible for Gabriella.

"Stay safe out there," Miguel directs quietly as he helps you put on your coat again. "And again, thank you for today."

"It was my pleasure, Mr. O'Hara," you reply, "And I actually had fun today, so I can thank you for that."

He escorts you down the apartment complex to the lobby and begins to watch you leave, the words on his tongue tipping ever so slowly before they spill the moment you're about to exit through the doors.

"(Y/N)."

At the sound of your voice, you turn to him with a questioning look on your face. "... yes?"

Miguel opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a couple of seconds before blurting out, "Are you free tomorrow evening?"

He scans your face for a reaction before surprise paints itself on your moonlit features. "I-I suppose I am," you nod slowly. "May I ask why?"

"Gabi is having a sleepover at one of her teammate's house," Miguel coughs out and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide their fidgeting.

"Do you need me to drop her off...?" you ask, clearly puzzled.

"No, um," he clears his throat again. "I was... I was actually wondering if you'd... if you'd like to check out that new restaurant that opened up on Clark..."

Regret pools in his mouth the second it falls from his lips and he begins to internally conjure some sort of half-assed lie, perhaps saying something along the lines of the company wanted him to review it for a potential cater in the future or that a friend of his worked there, but when he sights your eyes softening with the same warmth from earlier, he lets you take the reigns on fate.

"I'd quite like that," you murmur, a modest smile on your lips.

a/n ; i told you i was going to give into temptation. wrote this on a plane with no wifi on the way here (thank god for offline editing!)

anyways, i'm trying to squeeze this bit out before my plane ride tmrw since i've been travelling for the past week and a half! i'll be returning home soon where i can finally write to my heart's content, phew! i just reallyyyyy wanted to write something for miguel adjdjfkfalwf but fear not! we shall be back to our regularly scheduled program soon!

as always, thank you for reading and likes+comments+reblogs are always appreciated and never unnoticed（╹◡╹）♡!

#spider-man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

[tropicalcryptid]

Ok so She-Ra pulled such a great hat trick with Hordak's characterization, and I LOVE it

One of my favorite things about 2018 She-Ra is Hordak's story and development (and Entrapdak cough but that's not the point of this particular post), and the cleverest thing is that so much of it is actually being set up and told to us in seasons 1 and 2 before we even realize that that's what's happening.

When we first see Hordak in the show, he's giving "generic evil overlord" vibes. Garden-variety baddie. Maybe a little more reasonable than some and clearly capable of long-term thinking, but that just serves to make him intimidating. Everything about him--the way he runs his empire, his armor, his color scheme, his minion, his Villainous Eye Makeup(TM), even his name--are all projecting to the audience "yup, Acme Bad Guy here. Move right along."

But then, backstory. And everything snaps into focus. Not only is it one of the first big oh SHIT moments of the show, where we suddenly zoom out and realize that there is SO much more going on than we realized--it's also the start of the audience seeing Hordak as a character rather than an archetype. Suddenly we realize that he's not conquering Etheria because he wants power, or hates happiness and sparkles, or whatever--he's doing it out of a desperate attempt to prove his worth to his brother/creator/god. This moment where Hordak lets Entrapta in is also the moment the show lets us in on what makes our favorite spacebat tick.

On top of that, we've also seen him bonding with Entrapta and opening up to this person that he respects and trusts...probably the only person he's ever respected or trusted apart from Prime. And she's Etherian--someone of a lower species, someone he's supposed to subjugate, someone who he has been raised and trained and programmed and mind-controlled into believing is below him in every way.

But instead she's brilliant and creative and mesmerizing. She's not afraid of him, and she's fascinated with his work. For the first time since being abandoned by Prime, Hordak finally has someone that he can talk to, who is on his level and both understands and cares about the science! (because he is a giant nerd). She's kind to him, a mere defect. And it just sends his whole worldview into a spin, and that's all before--

Bam, mans is a goner. Entrapta's "Imperfections are beautiful" comment punches right through all the toxic bs that Hordak has been steeped in his entire life. You can see on his face here--I think it's the moment Hordak fell in love with Entrapta, but this is also the face of a spacebat reevaluating his entire worldview. If Entrapta, who is amazing, believes something different from Prime...what does that mean? If Entrapta, who is brilliant, believes that he is worth something, and that she herself is a failure...

Well. We know what happens after that, and how Hordak begins to doubt, and eventually fights back against Prime (and remembers his love for Entrapta after TWO mind wipes help my heart ack). But we also get to see what life in the Galactic Horde looks like: the only life Hordak ever knew before coming to Etheria.

It's not nice.

It's really not nice.

Prime operates in a very specific way, and we learn a lot about it in season 5. Prime expects complete obedience, devotion and worship from his clones. He allows no individuality from his subjects, not even a name. Failure or deviations are punished, mind-wiped, or destroyed. We even learn from Wrong Hordak that facial expressions are considered a privilege reserved for Prime (apart from, presumably, expressions of rapture caused by being around Prime).

And once we learn all of this, suddenly thinking about season 1 Hordak becomes very interesting indeed. The time we spend with the Galactic Horde and Prime throws absolutely everything that we know about Hordak into a whole new context. Now all those traits that made him a generic villain are actually hugely effective characterization! And what that characterization is telling us is that Hordak had already moved much farther away from Prime than we (or, probably, he) had realized, even long before he met Entrapta.

Horde Prime does not allow his underlings to have names, personalities, or any differences of appearance. Not only does Hordak allow this among his own troops, he chose a name for himself as well! Season 5 tells us that his very name is an act of blasphemy against his god. And yet Hordak took one for himself, and that name is part of the core identity he is able to hold on to when rebelling against Prime.

Horde Prime cast Hordak out when he showed signs of physical imperfections. Hordak not only keeps Imp (who is by all appearances a failed clone or similar experiment) around, he treats Imp more gently than we see him treat anybody or anything before Entrapta. Imp is not simply "generic evil guy's minion," he is proof of Hordak's capacity for compassion, and evidence that Hordak cannot bring himself to cast aside "defects" as easily as Prime. Considering where Hordak came from, Imp's existence is a huge, flashing neon sign telling the audience this guy here is better than the hell that molded him, and we don't even realize it until 4 seasons after it's been shown to us!

Very cool, ND.

There's more, though. Hordak's red and black color scheme? His dark eye makeup and lipstick? Very Evil Overlord chic. But nope! Actually these are actually expressions of individuality on a level that Hordak knows would be abhorrent to Prime!

Reading between the lines, I see this as Hordak desperately trying to reconcile two diametrically opposed beliefs in his head: (1) devotion to Prime, whose approval he desperately craves, and (2) maintaining some degree of unique personhood, of Hordak, from which to draw strength. Because a failed, defective clone cannot survive on a hostile world, cut off from the hivemind and from Prime's light. A failed clone cannot create an empire to offer Prime as tribute, nor build a spacetime portal from scraps and memory to call Prime back. A failed clone cannot create cybernetic armor to keep his hurting, weakened body alive; to force himself to keep going no matter what, to fight through the pain and the doubt by sheer force of will.

But maybe Hordak can.

And so there it is. Hordak had plenty of time to gain and explore his individuality while separated from Prime, but I think the reason he did it so effectively (while still deluding himself that Prime would forgive him for these little sins, if only Hordak could prove his value) is because he had to.

Wrong Hordak gained his individuality surrounded by kind, quirky people who took care of him; Hordak was ripped from the hivemind by Prime himself and had to fight for his survival against all odds. And that produced a dangerous and damaging foe for Etheria. But it also produced the one clone with the strength of will to defy Prime himself.

This is long and rambling, but ultimately my point is that 1) I love Hordak, and 2) I love love love love that the show was so clever about his characterization. We learn so much about him and how much progress he's already made in breaking from his psycho abusive cult upbringing, and we don't even recognize it until the show wants us to. Hordak had come so far, all on his own, before he met Entrapta. She just helped push him over the edge and finally realize (at least consciously) that Prime's worldview might not be the correct one.

Idk, I just don't know if I've ever seen all the trappings of Basic 80's Villain(TM) so successfully subverted, where looking back 4 seasons later is actually a smack in the face with the "effective character building" stick. Amazing.

#spop #she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #hordak #entrapdak #entrapta #horde prime #Spacebat #Deep character analysis #Gotta love clever writing #Seriously I could go on about this show for ages #I just love the characterization for everyone but especially Hordak #Best spacebat #I mean I love Wrong Hordak too but you know

[forcemeanakin]

Make you feel better.

•WARNINGS: SMUT.  Vaginal sex (female top), unprotected sex, blowjob, handjob, degradation kink, spanking, dirty talk. Explicit mentions of injuries.

Pairing: TCW!Anakin Skywalker x female reader.

Summary: You are a nurse in the 501st squad and General Skywalker needs some assistance. Only you could help him feel better.

Word count: 4.8K. This started as a blurb, but I’m incapable of shutting up. I haven’t stood up from my chair since 10am, so enjoy.

A/N: I’m so so so so in love with this man, it’s sickening. Scenario inspired by Ahsoka ep.5!. NOT PROOFREAD!!, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao

Also first one shot since like forever????

____________________________________________

As a war nurse, you are used to treating the nastiest of wounds, the bloodiest of cuts, the vilest of injuries. 

You have chosen your profession out of love and vocation. As cliche as it might be, the true desire of your heart was to help people feel better: The plan was to specialize as a pediatric nurse, even becoming a doctor one day. Working at a hospital, maybe have a private practice with that medic husband of yours you often dreamed about. 

All of that was erased the moment war erupted. 

Fresh out of nursing school, every single one of your classmates, including yourself, were drafted to report to duty as nurses on the frontlines. The assignment of troops was random, but as if fate had decided, you were put at the service of the 501st. Little did you know, the job was harder than you had ever imagined it would be; and the constant bombing and deceased people you had to observe had nothing to do with it.

It was the general of the squad that made your job more complicated than it had to be.

General Skywalker. 

Well, it wasn’t exactly him, but the persistent crush you had on him. 

Needless to say, it was extremely unprofessional to be daydreaming of the person who was technically your boss. Even more unethical to be full-on fantasizing about his dick size when you were supposed to be suturing injured clones. But dammit, was it hard. So hard to be so close to his pulling presence and yet so far from achieving anything real with the man. Not that you had tried. Public rejection would be even more embarrassing than crushing on him. 

Anakin Skywalker hardly recognized your existence. Between his duty as leader on the field, his responsibilities as Jedi off-hours and the reduced sleep time he could squeeze in between battles, he didn’t have time to remember the name of one of the nurses of his legion. Especially when he never went to the tents himself; the god of a man was indestructible. 

Fuck, was he hot.

Just watching him scream: “Forward!” every day, as he ran directly to conflict with bravery was enough to have you dripping. His whole General image was your own personal definition of lust; his armor, the tone in which he would deliver orders, the frown he would wear until he had defeated each and every single one of his enemies. The smile he would flash whenever they won over a battle. Luckily, it was often.

But you had this idea that, out all of the medical staff, you were his least favorite. Maybe it had something to do with how social you were: always distracting his soldiers with jokes as you cleaned their cuts so they wouldn’t think of the sting. Or maybe it had something to do with how emotional you could get during your shifts: always fighting with your colleagues so they would treat the troopers as people, not numbers. Even if he had created a culture of trust among his peers, you weren’t sure if he appreciated that you caused so much trouble within the medical wing. 

You had endured a year of stolen glances, salivating at the sight of him from afar and lonely nights with just your hand. Cheeks would blush so fast whenever he would catch you checking him out, and maybe you were drunk on the smell of medical alcohol, but you swore that you caught him checking you out too once.

But that was long forgotten the next day, when he came back to being his same old cold persona. You forgave that aspect of him: the atrocities he had committed in the name of the Republic weighed heavy on his shoulders, slouching his proud figure whenever he had to face the reality of his situation. 

The same you had to face everyday.

“Who’s available?!” Yelling was the official way of communicating over here. You were finishing up a bandage on a trooper that had lost his left leg, meaning that you had to answer the call of duty.

The Ryloth takeover was more hectic than the squad had ever anticipated. Soldiers falling left and right, some didn’t even make it to the medical bay, just straight to the pseudo-morgue that was built to then give them a final resting place. 

“I’m almost ready to take the next one!” You screamed over the noise from the ships flying over.

“Ms. Dana.” Someone called you by your last name from outside the medical tent. “General Skywalker’s tent in 5.”

That made you drop the jar of gauze.

No one has ever been there, you thought. 

Outside of his skippy padawan and uptight master, Anakin’s tent had always been off limits to the public. His sacred place to unwind in peace. The ways he must unwind after a long day of battle…

“Ms. Dana!” That woke you up from a very explicit image of Anakin jerking off the stress away. 

“C-coming!” You choked. Grabbing your personal kit, you ran to the destination that had your clit throbbing with anticipation. 

You would see the sheets he slept on, the place where he storaged all of his robes, the shower that saw him naked every day. Jealousy of an inanimate object took over you as quickly as it left, making you feel stupid for getting angry at a room.

You almost didn’t notice that the battle was over, the only remnants of it were the people being moved in gurneys, the clouds of dust and the beaten up ships. Your outfit was probably not the best to endure the hardness of the Ryloth landscape: a tight, white buttoned up dress with a stupid little hat on top of your head. You hated the son of a bitch, it was ridiculous as fuck, but necessary for recognition among all of the personnel working in camps.

Anakin will think it’s stupid too. 

He will think you are stupid. 

The self-degradation stopped once you reached the entrance of his tent. Gulping exaggeratedly, you were unsure if to knock, announce yourself or wait until he was annoyed enough to come out and see you standing there like an idiot. 

“Come in.” It was his voice who cruelly cut the silence, growling. 

With shaking legs, the green fabric that formed his personal chamber was removed from your eyesight and you were hit by the delicious smell of him. So manly, so musty. It smelled like his cologne all over and you wished you bottle that up to spray it on your own sheets. 

It was less rewarding to see him sitting on the edge of his bed with an exasperated stare, analyzing your figure with obnoxiousness. You even cut short your eye-fucking tour of his body when you met his tired eyes.  Have you taken too long to get here?

“So they sent you.” He sighed, deviating his gaze. The evident disgust at your presence made you slouch timidly. You were a good nurse. The best one in the camp, if you dare to say. “I told Rex I’m fine. I don’t need assistance, it’s just a bruise.” His tone was harder than his words, surprisingly. 

“Well, now that I’m here, might as well take a look at that, huh?” Fighting through the devastating embarrassment, you proceeded to walk over his bed to place your kit. Biting your lip, you feared to ask the next question. “Shall we get started?”

He was one step away from rolling his eyes. “Fine. Just do it quickly.”

“Got it, sir.” Weird. There was no chilly breeze, however, Anakin had just flinched. “Care to show me where the bruise is?” 

He hesitated for a bit, closing his eyes with frustration. You were about to ask again when he exhaled with annoyance. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I would like to confirm that. Please, sir, the faster we do this, the faster I’m on my merry way.” You hated that he was desperate to kick you out, but apparently your compelling argument helped to accelerate the process. 

After seeing that he still felt fuzzy about checking the bruise, you decided to start somewhere else. “Let me get started with this cut over here. Looks pretty nasty.” 

You doubted if to take a seat, scared that it would be too close to him, but you needed the space to maneuver. Giving up to your internal fight, you sat down next to him and began by cleaning up the wound that escaped the fabric of his burgundy robe. 

“That’s nothing.” He mumbled under his breath, still not looking at you. 

Ignoring his attempt to diminish your work, you decided to also ignore your basic instinct to start a conversation to ease up the process. The internal alarms of survival were yelling at you not too. However, there was a moment where the alarms shut down, basically because every part of your brain shut down simultaneously and it was when you had to grip his bicep to make it stand still. Your fingers dug into the hard muscle, feeling how every little bit flexed under your fingertips, proving first-hand just how strong he was. 

“Done. Now I’m gonna clean the ones in your face.” You poured some alcohol into another cotton ball and turned to face him. 

Being face to face with Anakin Skywalker had been the most intimidating experience of your life and that hot as hell scar and mean frown didn’t make it easier. In fact, it had you clenching around nothing. You cleared your throat before slowly reaching out for his chin, pulling him to give you a better look of his dirty and exhausted aspect. 

He gasped the second the puffy ball made contact with a cut on his left cheekbone. You took that opportunity to bring him some comfort, despite your irregular breathing and overall tenseness. Rubbing your thumb along his jaw, you saw his pain decreased until the sting was gone. You moved to another cut on his forehead, repeating the process until you had treated most of them gone. When you swapped your current cotton ball with a new one so caught him looking down on your body. 

It’s this stupid uniform.

He sensed your eyes on him and quickly deviated them to focus on your irises. You gulped before continuing your beeline around his face, this time close to the scar you often fantasize about in bed.

“That one 's old. No need to worry about it.” He joked.

He joked.

Unable to form a coherent comeback, you limited yourself to give him a nasal laugh, demonstarting that you got it. 

“Thought you wouldn't be this silent. You’re more chatty with the clones.” He said, slightly tilting his head.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to talk.” You replied, this time with a little smile as a peace offering.

“What did you think I wanted?” He frowned, interrupting your cleaning.

“I thought you wanted me out as quickly as possible.” You stopped momentarily to accommodate his face once more into a position you could work with.

He let out a dry laugh. “It’s nothing personal. I just want to come back to work.” 

“You just came back from battle and want to keep working? Do you ever stop?” You joked back, feeling how the atmosphere inside the tent had changed. Feeling more comfortable, you switched your body a little, now your chests were aligned, just inches apart. 

“Hardly.” He clicked his tongue, gaze slightly dropping to give a quick sweep of your lips. 

“Well, you should rest. Relax. That’s an important part of recovery.” You advised him, finishing up the last cut. You took a cloth of your kit and used it to clean some of the dry blood and dirt off him. 

“Can’t stay still.” He shook his head.

“There are other ways to relax.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking that little pause to admire his beautiful demeanor. Those blue eyes could spell you into saying yes to basically anything. 

“Like?” He pushed, licking his lips as his intense gaze focused on making you feel smaller and smaller.

“Like…” You dirty minded bitch, think about something other than sex! 

Almost like he could hear your inner dialogue, he chuckled. 

“Like taking a walk or reading a book.” You finally came up with a pg-13 alternative to relaxing. 

“Could be.” He snickered. After his beautiful giggle dialed down, you felt the tension switching. Thicker. More intense. “More of a physical guy myself.”

Feeling the pull to his plump lips, you rushed to get out of the trouble zone. “Ready for me to see this world-famous bruise?” 

Your brain short circuited when he snapped his shoulder armor in one swift move and threw it on the floor. The next thing had you mentally panting and physically in shock: Anakin was removing his robes to expose his naked and bruised torso. The skin of his middle part would dip perfectly into breathtaking abs, not to mention the flexing of his arms became more evident to you without the stupid robe in your way. 

The reddened-purplish spot expanded all the way from the right side of his lower abdomen, all the way down the waistband of his pants. The silent gawking didn’t go unnoticed by him, a little smirk coming to greet your widened eyes. That woke you up enough to get moving.

“H-how-“ You took a moment to regain some composure. “How did this happen?”

“A droideka fell on me.” He muttered shortly, almost as if the portion of information brought shame to him.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to palpate the area to know if there’s any further damage.” You announced with more nerves than a medical professional should speak to their patients.

Because he was now standing up, sitting down didn’t give you the best height to disinfect some of the minor cuts that tainted his perfect tanned skin. 

“Sir, I’m going to need you to lay down for me, please.” Formalities came back as soon as you felt threatened by his overpowering presence again. 

“No.” He spat, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’d prefer to stand, if it’s possible. Please.”

“Sure.” After all, it was your job to make the process easier for him. On the other hand, that meant having to kneel in front of him. That caught him off guard and almost backed down when you reached out to feel the tampered skin. “Please tell me where it hurts.”

Your little fingers began to poke around the wounded area, massaging the zones where you knew a more serious injury could present itself. It didn’t go under your radar the way he would have goosebumps whenever you looked up to him or groped him more firmly. Repeating over and over: “How does it feel here?” you made your way all over the part of the bruise that was visible to the eye. 

“Good. It seems like no internal organs have been compromised.” You announced with a little smile. Now the part you dreaded -and kind of expected- was next. “Uhm, I’m going to need to check the rest of the bruise to make sure you didn’t break your hip, sir.”

“Anakin.” He spat.

“Pardon?” You blinked rapidly.

“Call me Anakin. It makes this… easier.” He cleared his throat.

“Okay, Anakin.” You nodded. How you said the next thing so calmly was still a mystery to you. “So, I know this part may be uncomfortable, but I’ll need to remove your pants out of the way. Probably your underwear as well, if I need to take a better look. Don’t worry, I’ve seen enough male anatomy for this to be routinary for me-”

In the middle of your speech, as you dropped your gaze to prepare yourself for dipping your fingers under his pants, something snapped your attention. 

The gigantic bulge right in front of your eye line.

How you had missed such a tent while you palpated his abdomen was another mystery to you. 

“Uhm- I-” You choked, unwilling to look up. “I-”

Anakin made no effort to try and hide his wood. But what was the point? It was already there. You had already noticed it. 

Mumbling, you decided to continue being professional. It was a normal response after all. “I’ll go ahead and lower your pants, sir- Anakin, sorry.” You corrected yourself, but it was too late.

You had already seen the reason why he made you call him Anakin: his dick twitched the second you said “sir”. Now that was interesting. 

Your hand pulled down the brown pants, lowering his black underwear at the same time, only revealing his right hip, leaving the bulge quietly covered. Anakin’s chest rose uncontrollably, flinching every now and then when your hand would get too close to his boner, or when your warm breath would fan his exposed hip. When you finally dared to meet his gaze, to let him know you were almost through with the exam, you were pleased with the view above you. 

Rose pink cheeks, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth, darkened gaze fixed on your cleavage. It was the equivalent of liquid courage in human form. 

“Does this hurt?” You felt up another portion, this time closer to his groin. When he murmured a weak “no”, you inched even closer. “And here?” Same response. 

When you got to a point where your pinky grazed the bulge and he gasped, you knew this was the point of no return. 

“And does this hurt?” You asked, slowly palming the thick shaft that was threatening to rupture his pants at any given second. 

Swallowing harshly, Anakin refused to speak up a word. Instead, he let you carry on with your devilious plan. 

“And this? Does it hurt, sir?” You wrapped your hand around the still clothed member, rubbing faster and harder. 

He limited himself to closing his eyes, moaning on the low as your hand gripped his swell cock with more pressure and more confidence. Your ego was so high up in the sky that you had the impulse to rub your lips against the fabric already stained with pre-cum. 

“Sir, can I finish up the exam?” Your wide doe eyes were quite the contrary of your filthy intentions. 

Once he nodded with hooded eyes, you fished his veiny cock from out of the confinements of his underwear and tugged it out for you to admire all of its glory. It sprung free, the tip pointing directly at you, like it knew. Involuntarily, your mouth opened in admiration to such a big and thick frame. Anakin’s sly smirk made another surprise appearance at your gawking.

You were acquainted with male genitalia. But not like this. Never like this. 

So huge. So intimidating. So mouth-watering. 

“It’s almost like you have never seen one. Not as huge as this one, right?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you took in the whole image. You needed a minute to wrap around the idea that he was carrying this weapon everywhere he went.

Your hands -yes, plural, because you needed both to handle such beast- pumped fast to grant him the deliberation he so desperately craved. Yanking his thick shaft in between your palms had you pooling all over your white panties, like a goddamn slut. His hips were thrusting at the rhythm you had set, fucking your fist like he pleased. Feeling how he tensed his abdomen, the climax was closed.

Taking a last leap of fate, you stopped the jerking off momentarily and clutched the fabric of his pants down with both hands, revealing his whole lower part to your delight. His thighs, oh, his muscular thighs always did unholy things to you and to have them right there for you to grip was making you rub your own thighs together. Foreseeing what was to come, you let your hair down, losing the stupid hat.  

Digging your nails on the hardness of his leg, you licked the tip of his shaft, testing the water. The little drop of pre-cum you managed to catch was salty and warm, so deliciously milky. Moaning, you opened your mouth to lazily envelop his tip, rubbing it without interest, just softly teasing him.

“Look at you. Who would say that you would be so unprofessional, sucking your commanding general’s cock? Huh?” Anakin mocked you from his proud stand. “Miss little giggling nurse turned out to be a filthy cockslut. Salivating at the sight of my dick.”

You moaned, still pampering the reddened head of his cock.

“I could.” He chuckled, his thumb coming to caress your jaw just like you did to him earlier. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare when I walk by the medical tent? How you practically undress me with your eyes? Such a desperate slut. Begging to be fuck just right. Acting like you're not thinking about hopping on this dick while working.”

After giving a last open mouthed kiss on the sensitive tip, you opened your mouth and presented your pink tongue to him, for which he rewarded you with a smiling expression. 

“You offer yourself to make me feel better?” He cocked an arrogant brow.

Nodding, you let out a small, high pitched whimper to hurry him up. 

“Hope you know what you’re doing, baby.”

 And with that, he grabbed a handful of your locks with his gloved limb and the other one he used to tug your chin further down, making room for the rest of his cock. In the blink of an eye, he was fucking your throat raw, having no mercy for you or the tears that spilled from our eyes when he would especially far down. He emphasized repeatedly how he had to train you to take all of him in, that you were not properly ready to take someone as big as him. He even said it with pity, making fun that you hadn’t been fucking with real men. 

But he was here now. And he was going to take care of you. 

Even if you lack the ability to relax your throat enough for you to take the whole 9 inch monstrosity that was violating your breathing canal, he was appreciative of the way you gagged around him and the noises you made whenever the tip would hit a wall. He even praised the movements of your tongue on his underside, rewarding you with a little slap on your cheek. Anakin laughed when he heard your horny moan at the harsh action. 

Suddenly, Anakin stopped bobbing your head up and down his length, causing the mess of saliva that was covering both you and him to dissolve into a mesly string connecting you two.

“Let me see how well your other hole makes me feel, baby. Up.” As your legs made an effort to stand without shaking, Anakin returned to his previous seating position, this time manspreading to let his cock breathe in all of its glory. Patting his lap, he called you in like a dog. “Here.”

Dying of shame at the wetness that dripped from your inner thighs, you spread yourself until both your knees were at each side of his hips. Anakin glanced at the leaking juices and fucking grinned the brightest smile. 

“So wet just for sucking dick.” His index and middle finger retrieved some of the spill, playing with your sensitive nub on their way. He tasted the juices himself, licking his fingers clean. He hummed in approval, ripping your panties apart to have more access and drink up more of your arousal. “Pretty little pussy. Do you think it’ll fit?” He asked you with a narcissistic loop side smile, as he sucked some more off his fingers. 

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, shaking at the ministrations of his hands around your ass.

“It will.” He reassured you, pulling your skirt up and entangling it just above your hips. “You’ll make it fit.” He put his hands behind his back, on the bed, yielding control to you. “Now show me how bad you’ve been wanting this. Ride my dick.”

Using his strong shoulders for leverage, soon your slick pussy was sucking up his length. The first contact had you digging your nails on his shoulders, fighting through the pain of the stretch, this position only enlarging the already swollenness of his member. Gasping with an open mouth, you fought to push yourself even further down. Skin to skin, you were feeling all of him in: every curve, every wrinkle, every twitch. Even after remembering the condom, you opted for not mentioning it. There was no way you could say goodbye to feeling him bare.

Anakin pulled you in by the neck, drinking in the scream you let out when you bottomed out. His lips tasted better than anything you had ever tried, so sweet by nature and salty because of the sweat. You just wanted more and more; anything he was willing to give you.

“Faster.” Anakin demanded; clasping to your hips to bounce you harder on him, to remind you that this was about him, not you. 

Obeying like the sub you were, you humped him faster, adjusting yourself to surround his shoulders with your arms so you could pull his hair. You knew he liked it by the way he purred on your ear, embracing your waist tighter to manhandle you better. The hug you were both entrapped in ended with his big hands holding both your ass cheeks, groping them in such a disrespectful manner: splitting them open, squeezing them until it hurt, slapping without any sort of consideration. 

“Mhm, just like that, baby.” He praised blissed out, his hand cruelly smacking your already red and abused rear. “You do know how to ride dick. So good, taking me so well with this slutty pussy of yours.” 

Chasing your own pleasure, you gripped him harder and grinded on his wood, rubbing your clit with his pubic bone. You whimpered when you felt the delicious shock on your clit, which only incentivized you to rock your hips even faster. You were close, so close to coming undone, clenching him like a vice. 

“C’mon, you offer yourself to me, to use you as I seem fit.” Anakin pushed you back so you could see him clearly. “I want you to bounce, baby. Bounce those tight tits for me.” 

Anakin removed three buttons of your dress, enough for him to get drunk on the sight of your boobs pressed together and bouncing, but not all the way exposed. Like instructed, you bounced on his dick like it was your job to do so, enamored by the view of him hypnotized by your jumping breasts. Your nipples would shyly come to greet out of your white top, albeit Anakin wouldn’t have the full show because of the fabric that still caged them. 

Tired of the partial view, Anakin’s hands left your ass and traveled to their next destination: your full tits. Without removing another button, he took in the weight of your boobs inside of his palms and played with your meaty buds like he had never seen a pair before. The rough movements of his hands around the fat caused your dress to open a bit more, basically leaving you naked for him. 

“They’re more gorgeous than I ever anticipated.” He muttered, before enveloping a peak inside his mouth and lapping at it repeatedly. “Seeing you with this lame excuse of a uniform it’s harder than going to war, baby. Craving a taste of you and not being able to do anything about it, it’s torture. Pure torture.” He moaned in a ragged voice, sucking in the same nipple with closed eyes, savoring it. 

“You- you wanted me?” You cried, sliding in more frantically.

You were so close and he had it in his hands to make you come in that same instant. 

“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about filling this pussy to the brim the second you were drafted.” He exhaled with a smile. “I hate seeing you with the clones: gifting them smiles that should belong to me, parading this cleavage around when it should be for my eyes only, showing off this ass when only I should know the feeling of it inside my palms.”

“Anakin! I’m coming! I’m coming!” You announced, simultaneously feeling how his dick twitched inside of you. 

“Let me feel it, baby. Come all over my cock. Indulge me.” This time it was you who took the initiative to kiss him, thinking this would be your last chance to savour him before this was all over. 

You convulsed around his dick, just like he asked, tumbling over his shoulder to regain your breath. Anakin followed short after you, shuddering as he spilled over, biting your shoulder to muffle his groan. 

After the aftershocks dissipated and you regained consciousness, the shame of what had transpired hit you like a train. Fixing your dress to cover more of you, you wondered how long you should wait before saying something. Luckily, Anakin broke the ice first.

“Next time you should keep the hat. I like it.” He chuckled, making you giggle as well. 

Needless to say, you were now expected to be in his tent every night after he came back from battle, split open for him, ready to take in all of the frustration of the day and make him feel better.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars #sw anakin #tcw anakin #ahsoka series #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #darth vader

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hello!! I love your hantengu x Wifey! Reader, I been giggling and kicking my feet while reading this fluff, But i have a questions of this story, like.. how did the clones and reader got married? How did they met? What makes them fall for reader (or how reader fall for them? :D

How the hantengu clones found their wife

Warnings: slightly suggestive

PART 1

PART 2

It was the dead of winter, and (Name) had been taking care of her parents cabin the best she could. The young woman lived by herself ever since her parents had passed away from sickness. Although she tolerated the cold and loneliness to protect her childhood home, she often felt lonely in the large cabin.

After gathering all the firewood she could carry, she placed the damp logs and twigs next to the already roaring fire to dry. She heaved an older log into the flames, then turned away to work on dinner.

(Name) hosted a pot onto her stove to prepare a meal for herself when she heard a cry from outside. She froze in her spot, clutching her shirt in fright. The anguish in the voice caused her heart to throb.

“H-help! Please!”

(Name) had always had a heart of gold. In her youth shed rescue wildlife and go into town to help the elderly with tasks. Now she was a woman, and knew better than to go outside into the night when she heard someone call for help. It could be a trap.

This didn’t stop her from throwing on her thickest coat and snow shoes, though. She slid her door open, then closed it behind her. In her knife she held a kitchen knife, and in the other a lantern.

“H-hello?” She called into the darkness, holding her coat closed over her chest. The knife was now differ behinds the thick folds of her coat, though the feeling of its cold blade against her skin did little to comfort her.

She approached the woods, where the sound had been coming from. When she finally reached her destination, she gasped and quickly dropped her knife to kneel down next to a figure in the snow.

The figure belonged to an older man, who’s appearance was obviously strange. He gasped out when she reached out to touch him, covering his face and crying.

“You- you’re with them aren’t you? Don’t hurt me!”

(Name)’s gaze softened and she kneeled down in the snow, slowly reaching down to cup his cheek. “Sir, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not with anyone, promise.”

He whimpered, lightly leaning into her soft feminine touch. She smiled and helped him up, before realizing he wouldn’t be able to walk.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll carry you.”

The man was surprisingly light. She feared he may be an abused elder, something that was on a rise in her community. Sometimes the sleepy would wander the forest and beg to not be sent back home, but unfortunately that’s all she could usually do. Harboring a missing person could land her in jail, and she certainly did not want that!

“You’re too kind… so kind.”

(Name) could feel his tears run down her neck as he cried. She tried her best to ignore the feeling of his tears slowly turning to ice against her skin.

Once they were inside, she helped the gentleman into bed. It was dark inside her home now, and though she had candlelight and could certainly tell he looked strange, this wasn’t going to stop her from caring for him.

“Sir, can you tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

(Name) squeezed out some excess water from a rag and laid it on his forehead. He was surprisingly warm, his breathing shallow.

“I was poisoned…”

“What?! Oh dear I’ll need to fetch a doctor right-“

The man grabbed her wrist as she turned to leave with surprising force. He released her before she could process his overwhelming strength.

“No doctors. This will go away on its own… just need rest.”

(Name) nodded slowly, sitting down next to him. As the night went on, he requested she tightly close the blinds, stating sunlight would worsen the poison. She didn’t know a poison that would react to sunlight, nevertheless she did as she was told.

“Sir, are you hungry? I was just about to cook dinner.”

The man pondered her words for a moment, before nodding. “Yes. Thank you.”

She grinned, pushing the hair out of his face.

“One last thing. What’s your name?”

He sighed, content to have such a kind woman watching over him. “Hantengu.”

—————

(Name) busied herself in the kitchen, putting together a simple beef stew. It would have enough nutrients for someone sick and be quick enough to feed the two before going to bed.

When she finished she slowly hand fed her guest, cleaning his face after. He thanked her after he finished and grasped her hand.

“You have such beautiful hands, (Name). You would make a wonderful wife, you know?”

(Name)’s face heated up and she laughed, waving her hand. “No, no, I’m not good enough to be someone’s wife. I’m just a simple woman.”

Hantengu didn’t reply, only squeezing her hand lightly, before falling asleep. (Name) slipped her hand from his grasp and tiptoed away.

She undressed, hanging up her winter kimono and slipping on a nightgown. She looked at herself in the mirror, sighed, then tucked herself into bed.

———————

‘Mmm… warm…’

(Name) snuggled into something warm, the feeling enveloping her. The cold of the winter was far from her mind, the only thing she could think of was…

‘Wait… why do I feel hands on my waist?’

(Name)’s eyes shot open, and try as she might she couldn’t get up. She looked around her surroundings to try and see what was holding her down, only for shock to take over.

Laying on either side of her were extremely muscular men. They had a strange demonic look to them, with horns sprouting from their heads, one of them even having wings!!

“You’re finally awake, (Name)~”

The one behind her nuzzled into her neck, gently nipping at weak spots. She gasped, reaching her hands back to gently push him away. Her action did nothing, pushing the man felt like pushing a metal statue. His yellow eyes watched her in amusement.

“Aww, look, she’s so confused!”

She quickly turned to face the man in front of her who lied on his side to stare at her. He smirked, tilting her chin up to take a better look at her face.

“Sekido was right, she is perfect.”

(Name) blinked, watching the man in front of her lean in closer. She slammed her eyes shut, only to have the feeling of his tongue sliding down her cheek.

“Tastes so sweet. Urogi, tell the others she’s awake.”

Once Urogi left the room, the other man pulled her into his lap. He bounced her up and down on his leg, pulling at her nightgown.

“H-hey! Stop that!” She pulled the hem of her nightgown away, her cheeks flushed. He only chuckled, moving his hands from her night up to her waist.

“So soft and warm. Humans always are so soft and smell so good, but you smell the best. Mmm…”

He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. (Name) couldn’t help but whimper at the man’s close proximity. She’d lived a quiet life with her parents, and now some creature was fondling her in her childhood home. Her parents would be so disappointed!

She tried to pretend to dislike the attention she was getting, but couldn’t ignore her fluttering heart. No one had ever treated her like a woman before, and he certainly was.

(Name) jumped when the door opened, nearly falling and hitting her head. Before she could think someone was catching her in their arms.

(Name) looked up to see a demon with the prettiest blue eyes she’d ever seen. He watched her with hesitation, holding her up just long enough to stand in her feet. She didn’t even notice she was leaning into his touch, her only indication was the rumbling of his chest when he spoke.

“(Name), we’ve been waiting for you. Sekido needs to speak with you.”

He spoke as if you had known each other for years, guiding you with his large clawed hands ever so gently to the living room.

Sat on your father’s favorite chair was a man with red eyes, his aura was intimidating. (Name) shrunk away, clinging into the blue eyed man’s side. He pat her head reassuringly.

“Sekido, you may want to try and look less frightening. Humans are fragile beings, and she is a woman.” He was calm, the feeling of (Name) clinging to his side filling his chest with pride. Sekido frowned, but tried his best to remain calm.

(Name) turned and looked at Sekido with her big (e/c) eyes, causing the man to smirk.

“Perfect. Come here, woman.”

When she didn’t move, he turned his gaze to the man. “Aizetsu, bring her.”

Aizetsu obliged, walking forward. “Karaku, bring the ring.”

Sekido pulled the woman into his lap, resting his hand on her stomach. She shivered as his breath tickled her neck.

Karaku walked into the room, holding a purple pouch in his clawed hand. He approached (Name) keeping his eyes locked on hers. She tried, but couldn’t look away from his glowing green orbs.

Karaku plopped the bag into her awaiting hands, giving her a kiss on her forehead before he backed away.

She stared down at the cloth bag, wondering why she had been given it. Sekido’s already short patience wore thin and he yelled at her to open it.

“O-ok!”

She opened the bag, wiggling around in his lap to untangle the cord. He grunted, holding her hips still. She tried to ignore the feeling of something poking her but as she finally got the bag open.

(Name) turned it upside down and shook it lightly. The feeling of cold metal hitting her palm was enough to tell her it had fallen out.

“It’s… a ring.”

(Name) gazed down at the silver ring, a simple crystal in the middle. It was the only jewelry she’d ever held, and she was immediately captivated by it.

“Yes. I heard human women like to be proposed to with rings.” Sekido smirked, his chest swelling with pride. She turned to look at him, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Propose? You want to marry… me?”

All the men in the room voiced their approval, gathering around her. Sekido, stood, holding her in his arms with ease.

“You can think this over, but it’s made up in our minds. You are ours, but according to human customs we will give you time to think things over.”

She didn’t think he understood what thinking things over meant.

——————

Having a bunch of men crowd in her house was a lot less scary than (Name) thought it would be.

Aizetsu helped her clean, Urogi helped her cook, Karaku gathered firewood, and Sekido did repairs on she couldn’t.

Along with their helpful actions, the men had been behaving… strangely. She’d already figured out they weren’t human from their appearances and lack of human knowledge, but she thought that’s where their differences ended.

Not true.

Urogi had recently started bringing her… gifts. Sometimes, it was shiny things he’d found on his flights, and other times it was freshly killed animals and bags of gore. She tried not to think of where that came from.

Karaku had taken to purring at her to get her attention, which usually worked because she found it cute. This quickly turned into biting and growling when she didn’t respond quickly enough.

Sekido watched her. Constantly. At first this was reassuring. He’d follow her at night and make sure she was safe, and sometimes even carry her where she wanted to go. Recently he tried following her everywhere, this included to the bathroom and into her room when she was changing.

Aizetsu was the most tame, only wishing to be with her as much as possible. This only bothered her in the mornings when she couldn’t escape his iron grip to go pee.

She’d had about enough of this strange behavior, so she called all the boys to gather in her living room.

“Okay, why are you four acting so strange? Sorry to say but humans don’t like being followed, growled at, given bags with questionable contents, and being held for too long!”

She let out a huff and crossed her arms, her foot tapping away at the floor. The four exchanged looks, seeming confused.

“(Name), this is common demon courting etiquette”

She stopped, tilting her head. “Courting etiquette?”

“Yes, when a demon finds a suitable mate they court them with gifts, mark them, protect them, and spend time with them.”

(Name) nodded. “That makes sense. So how do I get y’all to stop your… courting?”

Sekido steps forward, offering her the ring. “All you have to do is accept our proposal.”

(Name) but her lip and weighed her options. On one hand, (Name) didn’t know if she was okay with the thought of marrying demons, but on the other hand… she’d grown to quite like the four over the past month. She didn’t know if she could go back to living alone, with no one to wake up beside her.

“I… I accept.”

The four let out a cheer, even Sekido seemed happier than usual. She was quickly surrounded, being kissed and nipped at from all angles.

“Now that you’ve accepted…”

Sekido reaches out a claw hand that traces down her side and lands at her hip. His eyes focus on her neck, and he leans down to inhale her scent.

“We can consummate this marriage.”

A/N: please leave a comment if you’d like a spicy~ part 2!

#x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #reader insert #requests open #smut requests #kny x reader #kny urogi #kny headcanons #kny #kny rengoku #kny x y/n #kny karaku #karaku smut #urogi x reader #karaku x reader #urogi smut #sekido x reader #sekido smut #kny sekido #kny aizetsu #aizetsu smut #aizetsu x reader #aizetsu #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer smut #hantengu x reader #hantengu clones x reader #kny hantengu

[im-poe-dameron]

─── BREATHE ME IN

a/n: so um...i have no idea what this is. i started this when the kenobi series was coming out and sort of dropped it after a month. but here i am, finally finishing it and making it longer than it was supposed to be. did we really expect me not to find darth vader hot? i think he's where my whole loving a masked character came from. honestly this is basically filth with me trying to shove plot in not so subtly. so i hope y'all enjoy!

summary: the jedi fell and darth vader rose to power, but there's a secret he hides even from his own master.

word count: 5.5k+ (because i'm insane)

pairing: darth vader x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, angst, tenderness which is shocking, thigh riding, choking (obviously), oral (male receiving), a tad bit of face fucking, dom/sub dynamics, rough p in v sex, overstimulation, more hints of anakin than vader.

You’ll never be able to forget the scent of him after that night one month ago. It was branded in your mind, forever a part of you as he bent you to his will—made you his without even saying a single word. You should have fought him on it; made him see that you weren’t ready to relinquish the power you once held, but you knew the man beneath the mask he wore. You had known Anakin before he became this, before he twisted himself up inside and gave into being Darth Vader.

Even now as you stood in your small home on a planet far away from the Empire’s touch, you could feel his control over you. Long before the order was given and Jedi were slaughtered, you had been one of them. A knight who fought alongside Anakin in the Clone Wars—a warrior who chose the side of good rather than evil.

Then things fell apart. You were told that the man you loved, the person you cherished the most, gave into the dark side.

He became a stranger once more.

But nobody runs from Anakin for long—especially when he’s become a force more powerful than any Jedi could ever hope to be. You were hiding out on Devaron when he found you, attempting first to turn you to the dark side with him. Only for you to see something break in his exterior, his walls dropping for a split second and you felt it like a punch to the chest. He needed you.

This absolute desire was not born out of lust but pure necessity, because even as Darth Vader…Anakin Skywalker still lived beneath the mask and he didn’t know how to live without you. You’d always been the person he turned to when Obi-Wan wouldn’t understand the nature of his feelings. When he could no longer control them himself.

So, he left you there—allowing you to remain a Jedi who chose the light side of the Force over him. But he would return again and again. Desperate for someone to put his strained mind at ease—the memories of his past haunting him with every waking day. Perhaps that's where the submission started. In helping him by allowing him into your bed, into your heart little by little each time until eventually…you yearned for him to.

Jedi weren’t allowed to have such strong attachments, but as a Sith…he could keep you as his for as long as possible. A deal you wholeheartedly agreed to with a single word.

The stars were starting to shine brightly in the night sky as you traversed the dense forest of Devaron, your lightsaber clipped to your side and hood drawn up over your head. You heard his ship land ten minutes ago; knew he now stood in the center of your home awaiting your arrival. So, you took your time. Anakin never liked to wait, Darth Vader was no different, and somehow that brought a smile to your face. So desperate to see you that he would battle his way through the forest alone to find you again.

He would come after you—you knew he would—and that brought back the pool of heat that always found its way to your body when he arrived.

There was something twisted about loving him even the way he was now. How could you, a Jedi Knight of your ability, love something so dark? How could you give into the sinister deliciousness of that side, yet still remain so true to the light side of the Force? The answer was simpler than you thought. In your mind he still remained as Anakin the man you loved and even though you knew what he did, what he now became, you couldn’t let go of your heart fully.

Even if the scars now showed as small canyons and ridges, each one holding a darkness that would ultimately cause your demise.

He knew this.

Nobody loved Darth Vader, nobody gave themselves to the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, without understanding they would die because of it one day. Perhaps that’s what caused the absolute ache in your bones at the mere sight of him. The thought of one day no longer being by his side. Some Jedi may claim you were betraying what you believed in—destroying yourself just for an inkling of mind numbing pleasure—but it was more than that. Pleasure ultimately gave way to the pain of loving someone beyond saving.

As expected you arrived at your small house to the sight of a black ship—big enough for one—in the clearing that was solely used by him. The darkness bled through the Force, encasing you in a biting cold as you walked towards the already open door. One might say the sight of him standing amidst your tiny living room was terrifying enough to run away. But you were never one to cower in fear from him and you refused to start now.

His head tilted, energy stretching out towards you through the old connection you used to have with him, and with a small smile you reached back. Twining your brilliant blue around his obsidian nature until you saw him shudder beneath his cloak.

“You’re late,” he said—his voice something you had to continue to get used to.

Humming, you dropped your robe onto the chair behind him, heading towards your small makeshift kitchen where you knew there’d be some bread from the day before. He turned, watching you move as you continued to press your Force signature against his own—reminding him of a time when he too held a blue lightsaber brighter than yours. This was a two way street. You savored the bitter sweetness of the dark side, relishing in the rush of power that flowed through your veins, and he once again fell back into what he used to know. The calming serenity of the light side.

“You’re early,” you teased, knowing his temper was far worse than before. However he always seemed to control it around you—the tight grip he had on his anger evident in the way his fist clenched.

“Where did you go?” He demanded more than asked nowadays and so you stayed silent, awaiting for the flare of anger to shove its way into your mind.

It never came though. The silence almost shocked you as you turned, eating the remainder of the bread. But that’s what he wanted out of you—a reaction that would show you actually acknowledge his presence. How could you not? When he stood there looking like the true embodiment of the dark side of the Force. Although there were times when you missed the sight of Anakin standing before you—a smile on his face that always reached his blue eyes.

“Exploring,” you said, eyes flickering down the length of him—taking in the sight of his rigid stance. “How long are you here for?”

“Tonight.”

His answers were blunt, to the point, because he didn’t have time to dawdle. You were his secret, you knew this. If anyone found out you’d be killed and knowing who Darth Vader answered to…he’d be forced to do it himself. So, you nodded and finished the remainder of your bread as you continued to watch him—prodding at the wall of his mind to hopefully see within. But they remained up, blocking you from anything other than his Force signature which remained tightly entwined with your own.

“How long will you be gone for?”

He paused, pressing against the walls of your mind to see what exactly you were thinking, but you knew he didn’t wish to forcefully tear them down. You were not a person he was interrogating—rather a lover who he may very well lose if he didn’t act accordingly. His fist clenched again, the struggle to remain in complete control now wavering as you stalled for time. He knew what you were doing and yet he still played along.

“I don’t know.”

You hummed, once more pressing against the wall in his mind. It was dangerous to be let inside—having seen what he harbored behind the thick barrier—but your curiosity always wished to drag you into trouble.

What was safety compared to intimately knowing the most lethal person in existence? To you there would be nothing more intriguing, nothing more worth the risk than this simple gesture.

“Don’t,” he spit out, stepping closer until your lower back was digging into the counter.

“You let me in once before—”

His gloved hand landed on your throat, silencing your words and causing a shudder to run down your spine. Though the position wasn’t unfamiliar, it still brought a small inkling of fear to peek its head out. He could kill you—without remorse. Yet he never did. He simply remained, holding your throat as tenderly as he possibly could—relearning what the meaning of gentle was. That thought alone brought a dazed smile to your face, your eyes nearly fluttering closed as his thumb ran along the column of your neck.

“That is no longer a luxury you are allowed to have.”

The words were sinister on his tongue, like a sharp knife to your heart, but you’d been scarred by him before. “Is it because I know what I’ll find? Or are you afraid?”

His control finally snapped, the pressure on your throat now crushing you until you struggled for air. But he didn’t squeeze harder, he didn’t make sure that you were unable to breathe completely, because he couldn’t cross that line. He refused to. You were the only light he let slip through the cracks of his helmet; the one thing keeping him stable on the ground and while it wasn’t very Darth Vader of him to keep you—it was the part of Anakin that still remained that held onto you tightly.

“You know nothing.”

Despite the lack of oxygen, you smiled. “I know you.”

The words came out choked and broken, but it was enough. He froze, his hand loosening around your throat as the final realization clicked into place just like it always did when he found his way back to you.

You knew him—knew Anakin that lay beneath the surface and Vader that rose to power crushing him in the end. You knew all the ugly bits that showed through the evident splinters of his being and in spite of all of that…you still loved him. Whenever he left you he seemed to forget that when he came here he didn’t have to wear a shroud of anger that resembled his cape. He didn’t have to wean himself from the light side with every bittersweet touch, because you held no expectations of him.

“Anakin,” you breathed, hand sliding along his leather covered limb. “Come home.”

Little by little you saw his walls come down, felt the darkness seep into his Force signature until you were surrounded by it. Until the only light left between the two of you was yours—guiding him back to you for a brief moment. He’d only be here tonight, so you’d have tonight.

You would take as much time as you were allowed if it meant seeing Anakin for a brief moment again.

“Anakin is dead,” he muttered, hand shifting until his thumb was pressing against your bottom lip. “I killed him.”

Parting your lips you allowed him to invade your senses even further—the taste of the leather permeated your mouth, driving a moan from your throat. Digging your nails into his arm, you felt him push against you—forcing his way into your mind and showing you images of a past that felt like yesterday. Anakin’s face flashed before you, the smile you ached to see again finally coming back to you, and it drew a whimper to the surface. A sound he liked if the pressure on your tongue was enough to go by.

The scene shifted and you felt the heat flare to life in your stomach as you saw yourself beneath him, sobbing his name as he practically shoved you into all encompassing bliss. Memories he still held onto—torturing himself because he could no longer have you in the way he wanted. But above all that, one stuck to the forefront of your mind. The taste of him as he kissed you; devoured everything you were and felt greedy enough to take even more.

The first hints of the dark side within him.

“Maker,” you gasped as he ripped his hand away, reaching for the ties of your robes. “I miss it too.”

Gathering enough of your energy you used the Force to shove him backwards until he stumbled into the wall behind him—his large frame taking up too much space. To anyone else it would have felt suffocating, but to you…this was as safe as you were ever going to get. He ached to have his old self back not to be a Jedi again. No, he thrived in the sinister ways of the Sith. He wanted to be Anakin, to have you again by his side—to kiss you like he used to on nights where things became too heavy a burden to carry alone.

Somehow in the midst of you pushing him back and him resisting you ended up pinned to the wall of your bedroom by him. He didn’t even have to touch you to make you beg for more; for you to do anything he wanted. This is what bending to his will became and he loved it.

He stood inches away, the tips of his boots touching yours and so like a fool you let your walls down without any warning. Shoving every memory and burning need his way until he was gasping through the modulator—his hand slamming against the wall beside your head. Each moment you were with him, each touch and night neither of you slept—too busy finding what made the other tick—it all poured into his mind. You made him see what you saw whenever you were near him even with the mask.

The cold feeling of his mask pressed against your cheek as he tried to push himself closer. This is all it would amount to. Nights spent in secret when really the both of you ached for one last thing. Something you never got.

A farewell kiss.

“Anakin,” you said softly, hand sliding to his shoulder. “Are you home?”

He let out a breath, the sound distorted through the modulator before finally breaking down the last of his walls. “Yes.”

You didn’t know how long tonight would truly last and so you began to clutch at his arm, feeling a hot press of his gloved hand dig into your thigh as he raised it to his hip. A natural movement he’d done a hundred times over. That was enough to make you smile, a small bit of laughter echoing off the walls of your tiny room. Although darkness still clung to him, still twisted tightly around your Force energy, he remained the man you loved.

Both Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader alike.

“Tell me,” he groaned, shoving his knee up gently and fitting it right at the seam of your pants.

It almost didn’t feel fair how he knew your body so well—how he knew which way to move you to finally hear that familiar moan tumble past your lips.  Grinding your hips down, your head fell back against the wall when pressure was finally applied to your throbbing clit, sending sparks down your spine. You knew he watched every emotion, expression, and heard every sound behind that helmet and somehow…that made it even more electric.

“Tell me,” he demanded, hand going back to your throat and keeping you in place as his other one guided your hips along his thigh.

Fuck, you were still clothed and felt like you would fall apart at any moment.

“I—” Moaning, your hands scrambled for purchase along his chest. “I love you.”

Placing pressure on your throat he shoved pressed his thigh upwards, watching your eyes flutter shut, a high-pitched gasp escaping you as you finally broke. Light flooded his senses, nearly breaking his stance, but the sight of you writhing in his grasp—whimpers falling from your lips was too addicting for him to let go of. They say that the dark side made one greedy; desperate for whatever they wanted, and in this moment he was prepared to take and take until you had nothing left to give.

He knew you’d let him. You would give him whatever he asked for.

“Anaki—” He cut you off, dragging you along his thigh again and watching as your face twisted. Both pain and pleasure collided as you were shoved into overstimulation.

“Again,” he said, moving his hand from your hip to your pants—helping you yank them off until the leather of his glove slid through your hot slick. “I want to see you do it again.”

“Oh fuck.”

Gasping for air, you dug your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he ruthlessly began to toy with your clit. He knew exactly what to do to shove you right on that edge again and perhaps that’s what flung you over it. Or maybe it was him shoving the same words back into your own mind until it echoed over and over again.

I love you.

Sith didn’t care about things like love, but Anakin Skywalker was never truly a Sith just as he was never truly a Jedi.

He was stuck in between—crossing the border of want and need.

“I can’t.” A cry ripped from you as his other hand moved down from your neck to your chest, rubbing a thumb over your nipple. “I—Anakin I can’t.”

He chuckled, the sound menacing even to you. “Yes you can.”

This wasn’t a question—it was a choice of when you’d finally give in. The pressure in your body built, the coil twisting as he continued to rub sharp circles on your clit. When your legs began to shake and your vision became blurry from tears, you knew you were right there on the very edge of shattering, but you couldn’t. Not until he joined you on that edge—relenting his power to give you some of your own.

“Say it,” you begged, eyes screwing shut as he sunk two fingers into you right to the knuckle—his thumb continuing. “Say it for me. Please I need—I need to—”

“I love you.”

The words sounded foreign coming from his modulator, but you knew this was Anakin speaking not the twisted side of him that fed off of pain. He’d finally ripped free from the cage he was put in, leeching off the light coming from you with glee. He may not have meant the words entirely, but they did what you both intended them to do.

Sobbing his name, you felt the pressure snap in two flooding your body with a white-hot pleasure. You could hear his fingers as they continued to pump into you, rubbing against the spot along your walls that made your legs shake and tears flow down your cheeks.

“That’s it,” he muttered, hand going around your neck to hold you in place as you practically grinded on his hand—the pleasure still coursing through your veins.

You were lost to it. Mind numb to everything else but him standing before you.

It took you a few minutes to catch your breath and gain feeling in your limbs again and he waited. Gave you a chance to breathe as he fought against the impatience that trickled into his veins—a quality that was unnatural to him. Once you were finally able to open your eyes, sighing in contentment, you focused on his mind—allowing yourself a chance to see inside of it. As always it was inner turmoil that had you flinching, but right now all you saw were memories of you and him. The same ones he played over and over again while he was away from you.

“And here I thought you never missed me while you were away,” you said, lips curving into a smile sweet enough to taste.

“I don’t miss you.” He leaned closer, hand reaching down to cup your swollen cunt. “I miss this.”

Words like that should have stung, but you knew him better than that. You knew why he said the things he said. So you smiled wider, dragging his arm up until his hand was in front of your face, the black leather shiny with your cum. Twining your Force signature around him until he couldn’t escape, you sucked his fingers into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. He didn’t expect you to give in so easily—usually enjoying the fight you put him through. But tonight you’d settle for this so you could gain more.

“We’ll see about that,” you whispered, kissing his palm and dropping his arm.

You wanted him to give over the control he ached for; wanted to watch as the last of his residual armor came crashing down around you. Only one person would be able to say they brought Darth Vader down to their knees and it was you. His light, his moon, his lover.

Pushing his leg away, you pressed your hands on his chest, wishing you could once again feel the strong heartbeat beneath his skin. The steady thrum of it put you to sleep on long nights when you snuck away from the Jedi Temple, but for now you’d have to settle for the rhythmic timing of his breaths as they echoed around the room.

Without another thought, you dropped to your knees in front of him—his body keeping you caged in along the wall. You figured he already knew what you were going to do, if the way he widened his stance told you anything. His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your gaze back towards him. It was the gentle nature of his touch that sent heat spilling into your heart. Anakin flared to life right before your eyes with every passing minute.

Undoing his belt, you allowed yourself a moment to admire what lay beneath the leather. What he always drew your attention away from. The skin was burnt, scarred beyond anything you’d ever seen before, but that never mattered to you. He stood stiff, his other hand pressed against the wall, helmet focused on you. Almost like he was unsure of what would happen.

Would you not care? Or would what remained not be what you wanted?

“Oh…” you gasped when he was finally free.

He was scarred there too, you’d felt it before. Except you weren’t shocked by that; no you were surprised by how worked up he was. The glossy sheen of precum building up at the tip practically dripped down your palm as you held him—begging for you to taste. Leaning forward, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, the guttural moan he let out sending a flare of heat through your body.

“Is this for me?” you asked sweetly, knowing it would only succeed in riling him up even more.

He grunted, his hand pushing you forward until his cock was once more back in your mouth. Although you didn’t mind in the slightest. Not when his addicting salty tang spread on your tongue the longer you sucked on the head. He was shameless with the sounds he made. Entirely focused on his pleasure, but you felt the way he softly rubbed his thumb along your neck, sending goosebumps down your skin.

“Take me deeper,” he said, already knowing you were heading that way anyways. “I know you can.”

You moaned when he hit the back of your throat, his hips thrusting forward slightly until you gagged. That alone only made him do it again. Pressing against the firm line that stood between the both of you. He wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want—as long as you gave him control. Something you were more than okay with handing over.

It’s not like you had any semblance of it before he became Darth Vader. Anakin had always been one to take what he deemed he deserved. Except when it came to you, he always gave you the choice. Even now as your nose brushed the base of his cock, your throat squeezing him so tight his whole body shuddered, you still held the choice.

You sucked in a breath when he pulled away, tears streaming down your cheeks and spit covering your chin. Part of you wanted to keep going—to feel him spill down your throat—but you knew that wasn’t what he was here for. Dragging you up, he pressed the cold shell of his helmet against your forehead, hands grasping your hips tightly.

“I need—” He cut himself off, a loud breath reverberating through his modulator. 

For the first time that night you felt it. The small flicker of blue in his otherwise black Force signature. Only in moments like this, when his desperation practically permeated the air, did you find your Anakin.

The only thing stronger than Palpatine’s hold over him had always been the love he felt for you—that was clear to you now.

“I know,” you murmured, leading him back and watching as he sat on your bed. His large frame practically took up the entire room. He spread his legs, allowing you to step between them, but you had a different plan altogether.

Clambering onto his lap, you held yourself up as you positioned his cock at your entrance. Your slick practically pooled over him, making it easier for you to take him in one thrust. But rather than rush this, you held yourself there. Hovering over his needy and wanting cock—making him wait for the one thing he so desperately needed. The blue flickered again, vibrating through you and forcing a gasp from your lungs.

You longed to pull it closer until it enveloped you entirely; til you suffocated from its light. But whatever remained was now small and fleeting, only seen in moments like this. His grasp turned harsh, impatient. Letting you know that he only had so much left in him before he took back the small sliver of control he allotted you.

Your whole body shook as you finally lowered yourself, feeling the stretch of his cock sliding into your cunt. A growl ripped from his chest, his hands pressing you down further and watching in delight as your head fell back, a garbled shout echoing off the walls. You went dizzy with the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. It rushed through you, setting each nerve in your body alight with a burning fire.

Which only made everything shine brighter.

Light flooded his senses, your Force signature practically bleeding out into the room. And he took it. He swallowed it whole in his never ending darkness with the hope that you were never extinguished.

“More,” you gasped, fingers digging into the leather that covered his shoulder.

He shoved his hips upward, grinding against you and tearing a sound from your chest that seared into his mind instantly. You were a wanton mess. Barely hanging on to the person you were thirty minutes ago—before he came back into your life. Instead there you were. The lover who fed off of his darkness; who took what the Jedi Order claimed was forbidden and begged for more.

“Maker—fuck—I-I’m oh fuck—” You made no sense, but that’s the way he wanted you. An incoherent babbling mess that rode his cock to chase that feeling only he could bring you.

Lifting yourself up slightly, you dropped back down haphazardly, hating the emptiness that came with his cock slipping out of you. A sound tore through his modulator, his hands tightening on your hips as you set a brutal pace. He groaned when your walls tightened around him, the sound of your skin slapping against the leather of his pants echoing in the room. If you listened closely you could hear the wet squelch of your slick as he set his own pace, pounding into you without abandon.

“Please, Anakin please,” you cried, unsure of what you were begging for.

He seemed to know though.

Without a response, his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing down tightly as he thrusted upwards even harder. The lack of oxygen seemed to only heighten the sensation you chased—pleasure building up to an almost painful degree in your body.

He bent you to his will, guiding your body in a way that felt familiar. You didn’t have to think when he was here, didn't need to focus your energy on any of this, because he did it for you. His gloved thumb pressed against your lips until you opened up with ease, sucking his finger into your mouth with a moan. It gave you a chance to take in a deep breath before he clamped down tight around your throat again. Turning your vision hazy.

“Good,” he muttered, pulling the spit slicked finger from your mouth. Only to press it firmly against your clit.

Your body arched, a broken cry falling from your lips as tears streamed down your face. It was too much, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop. You didn’t want him to. The pleasure nearly blinded you with each thrust of his cock into your dripping cunt. But what made you fall wasn’t the feeling of him finally striking against the spot that made your body curl in on itself.

No, it was the image he projected in your mind.

“That’s what you like huh,” Anakin’s voice grunted in your head, his blue eyes just as bright as before.

You sobbed out a garbled yes, eyes rolling back. The image continued. A bright blue light wrapped itself around you, nearly burning you from the inside out as he pinched your clit between his fingers. And you chased it; grabbed onto the sensation tightly and let it fill your chest until you swore your heart stopped beating.

“I want you to cum. Let me see my pussy drip for me,” he spit, dragging you closer until you were pressed so tight it nearly hurt.

“Don’t,” you gasped, shoving the image of Anakin away from your mind, eyes focusing on the empty soulless black mask he wore. His hand let up slightly, allowing you breath to speak. “I want to see you. Not him.”

Warmth spread through your chest when his hips stuttered, a groan reverberating against your breast. You wished you could kiss him. Feel the hot press of his lips on yours, but this—feeling him thrust into you quickly—was enough. His hand tightened again as his cock drove up into you harshly, hitting right where you needed to fly off the edge. Your mouth fell open, a broken sob making its way through as the all encompassing heat you so desired began to spill through your body.

A snarl ripped through your very being when he finally joined you, spurting into your swollen cunt and filling you until you leaked around the base of him. Except he didn’t stop. He pushed forward, thrusting into you until pain filtered through the pleasure. Once more you were shoved into that bliss, drowning in it with no way out.

Sobbing his name, you felt your body shake as he finally ceased his movements, allowing you to sag against him. The energy was completely depleted from you and he knew it. Which is why he didn’t move. Simply breathed deeply, his softening cock still deep in you, causing you to moan slightly at every soft twitch.

“How long until you have to go?” you sighed, your fingers tracing random shapes against his armor.

“Soon.”

“Will you come back?”

You knew you wouldn’t receive an answer. You never did, because even he didn’t know when Palpatine would finally release him again from his grasp. He let out a breath, his hands cupping your ass as he molded you to him. The blue light still flickered amidst the darkness, turning his once bleak Force signature a brilliant midnight color. And for a moment you saw the real him. The man who lay beyond the layers of his armor.

Laying a kiss against the cold shell of his mask, you allowed yourself a moment to be enveloped by him. The darkness would return eventually, wiping away the man who sat beneath you. But for now, he was here and he was yours.

Smiling, you pressed against it with your own, feeling him shudder beneath you. It was like looking at the night sky—a sight you wanted to keep until you were left alone once more. Curling around his body, you allowed sleep to finally overtake you, your mind soothed by the soft touch of the Force he pressed against you.

Only then did you realize.

In the small space of your home, beneath the strain of a galaxy under siege, your Anakin finally found his way home again.

#darth vader x f!reader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #darth vader smut #darth vader #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #star wars fic #my writing

[decembermidnight]

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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[dragonrider9905]

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him. 

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart. 

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing. 

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same. 

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands. 

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could. 

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for? 

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you. 

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart? 

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.” 

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering. 

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage. 

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.) 

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you. 

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them. 

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok. 

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could. 

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little. 

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.” 

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved. 

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out. 

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better. 

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh. 

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit. 

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that. 

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.   

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door. 

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you. 

Kriff. He had to fix this. 

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship. 

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before. 

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken. 

He was lost. 

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it. 

A lost love. 

And it was his fault. 

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible. 

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on. 

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep. 

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty. 

He saw it. And he caused it. 

And he hated himself for it. 

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t. 

Turns out he was wrong.  

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that. 

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt. 

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold. 

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality. 

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else. 

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be. 

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her. 

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice. 

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed. 

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand. 

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack. 

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy. 

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated. 

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands. 

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face. 

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for. 

It was ‘that’ look. 

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time. 

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.  

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone. 

You squeezed his hand. 

“We’ll find her. I promise.” 

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long. 

He squeezed your hands. 

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore. 

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself. 

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering. 

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free. 

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him. 

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again. 

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before. 

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”  

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead. 

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him. 

Taking a look around, you carefully considered. 

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.” 

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker. 

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back. 

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?” 

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.” 

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.” 

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?” 

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you. 

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go. 

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two. 

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun. 

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had. 

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed. 

Your voice. 

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training. 

“Meshla, no!” 

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror. 

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you. 

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you. 

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter. 

Your painful cry.

No

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart. 

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge. 

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.” 

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…” 

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“ 

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body. 

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.  

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled. 

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly. 

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?” 

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep. 

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run. 

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.” 

Hunter came in running. 

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him. 

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls. 

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open. 

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up. 

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you. 

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space. 

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand. 

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat. 

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up. 

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating. 

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing. 

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat. 

Oh well, you could only push forward. 

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help. 

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding. 

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago? 

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry. 

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing. 

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face. 

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak. 

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened. 

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing? 

You had an infection. 

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly? 

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you. 

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you. 

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water. 

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle. 

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter. 

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes. 

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least. 

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt. 

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late. 

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response. 

 “Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope. 

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him. 

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk. 

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand. 

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her. 

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed. 

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area. 

You blinked your eyes open with a smile. 

“Hey Handsome.” 

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss. 

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?” 

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him. 

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled. 

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.” 

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help. 

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words. 

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.” 

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon. 

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you. 

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level. 

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets. 

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern. 

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way. 

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm. 

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out. 

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most. 

This one, he couldn’t do. 

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could. 

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you. 

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow. 

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes. 

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself. 

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips. 

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air. 

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain. 

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard. 

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.  

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there. 

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.” 

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again. 

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—” 

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss 

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier. 

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace. 

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened. 

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler. 

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest. 

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

#I gave Hunter's scarf a fate #We now know what happened to it #It deserved a story #Hunter's scarf is important and we recognize that here #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #TBBE24

[py-dreamer]

Man I am on a roll these days!

I love this doll base for the lmk characters, I actually drew some designs for the other lmk characters in this base in a notebook and as much as I would like to post them, Idk if that'll be any time soon.

I know in the show, Mk's headband is his signature. Even since childhood, I get that but I also saw a design of kid MK with him without the headband and fell in love.

Also he has light up sketchers. Cause why not.

It was a lot of fun doing the crayon drawings and seems like red and yellow are our lil prince's favorite colors, though it was a bit difficult to do them on such a small scale and at a slanted angle.

why does Mk have random building blocks?....

...

(I genuinely don't know)

Looking back, I do wish I made the toys a little more scuffed up cause while I do believe Pigsy would buy some toys and new clothes for his son the kid but I do love the idea that many of MK's old toys were hand me downs or at least second handed from Pigsy's past or even any cousins giving old toys or heck. Maybe some of Tang's university students found out their teacher has a new kid and give some old stuff to help out since Mk is a sweet kid and his appearance was quite spontaneous.

Perhaps that doll is a clone Wukong placed to keep an extra eye on the boy

BTW that love heart is NOT romantic in any way you creeps. Like how a child loves a toy, there is nothing weird happening here.

WUKONG IS HIS GODDAMN DAD/FATHER FIGURE AND IF YOU GENUINELY SHIP PEACHYNOODLES, GET OUT

OUT OF THIS HOUSE!

I try to respect different ships and opinions. I try my best.

But we see in the show, their father-son dynamic. I know there is a ship format of mentor x student but there is a clear parental relationship here!

It just feels icky, especially when you consider the inbalance of both power and experience in any 'romantic' context

Sorry, I just went on a tangent there, but hope you enjoy the actual piece and enjoy the easter eggs (>u ')/

(also out of curiosity, are any of you interested in the stopmotion film, Kubo and the two strings cause there might be a new au on the horizon!)

#lmk #lego monkie kid #py's_art #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk sunburst duo #lmk sun wukong #freenoodles fam holds a special place in my heart #lmk freenoodles #mk is freenoodles child #and simultaneously wukong's kid #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #peachynoodles is wrong. #just my opinion #but i am also right #my beloved #monkie kid mk #dadsy #lmk dadsy #tang is a university student headcannon

[djarrex]

burning hot

Howzer x f!reader | Fireball x f!reader | Howzer x reader x Fireball

ao3 | masterlist

The senator you work for assigned you to go to the clone base on Teth, where your primary job as a relations specialist has you venturing outside the job description.

It's been a while - but I just couldn't get these two out of my head. spoilers for the bad batch s3e6&7. 18+ only. explicit. oral. piv. a hint of creampie and a sprinkle of light choking. everything is consensual. almost getting caught. getting caught a little. after care and mention of the color system. a little bit of a threesome. I don't ship clones. no love triangle. reader is f! but no physical description is mentioned. It's been a long time since I've had to tag anything so please let me know if I need to add something. not gonna add user tags because I don't know who's out there anymore lol. enjoy the 10.5k words of smut with plot :)

Never would you have thought you’d one day travel to Wild Space, and yet here you are, just having entered the purplish atmosphere of a planet called Teth. You’re not traveling alone, though; you’re surrounded by a couple security guards of the senator you all work for, along with a few clones, although these particular clones are not soldiers of the Empire; they’re fighting back just as your Senator is, among a few others who remain in office. Your job is one that your Senator has entrusted to you when this all began, which is to facilitate communications and gather information for your office. Essentially, you speak with the clones about their experiences with the Empire, and see if there’s anything there that would help their case in the Senate, and eventually, to hopefully cast a light on the Empire’s crimes.

“We’re almost to the landing zone,” the pilot, a clone named Gregor, calls. Through the transparisteel you see the abandoned Monastery come into view, sitting atop a steep, mountainous pillar. Apparently, this is where the clones have set up their operations – their base. You figure it’s a good location because of how remote it is, being way out in Wild Space where the Empire’s shadow does not reach. 

As the doors open and the ramp lowers, you see the several men who have been awaiting your arrival at the landing zone. Most of them, the ones who surround the pathway with their blasters held at ease, are in their helmets – but there are two clones in front of you without their helmets, one you quickly recognize as the Captain Rex. 

You blink.

You know the other helmetless man, his hairstyle exactly the same as it was the day he was rescued, though now he’s in a full kit of armor, strapped with weapons. Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him. He looks good, you note. Healthier than the day you met him, and judging by the operation they have going on here, he’s been keeping busy. 

Debarking the ship, you follow closely behind your security. You try not to linger too long on the giddiness you feel of seeing him again, but as you’re walking by, you see his eyes briefly widen with the realization of who you are.

He remembers you.

You first met Captain Howzer several months back, on the day he was rescued. Tagging along with your boss and security, you finally were able to meet the men who were the talk amongst the office: The rogue clones who were fighting back against the Empire. The garage in the lower levels of Coruscant was filled with these clones, some who were recently rescued and the ones who’d already been in the fight. On the day you met Howzer, you were getting to know the men who’d just been rescued that very day–him being one of them–by hearing their stories and gathering as much information as you could for your office, jotting down anything of note that could help the clones’ case in the Senate.

When you spoke with their captain, Howzer, you could tell he was angry – resentful. He told you all about how he’d been arrested back on Ryloth for merely opposing an order that was just plain wrong. Dissidence. He’d been arrested with several of his men who’d laid down their arms in solidarity, only to have been rescued with a saddening two who’d survived the year-long imprisonment. 

The two of you spoke for what felt like hours – long after the garage had cleared out of visitors and others had fallen asleep. You weren’t sure what it was – but you were feeling a pull – one that brought you closer and closer to him until the both of you felt the unspoken. He was flashing you a look – and that’s what did you in.

Howzer fucked you in a supply closet that evening.

It was quick and desperate. Howzer had you pinned to the back wall of that supply closet just moments after he'd followed your invitation inside. As you quickly worked your bottoms off, Howzer's desperation was blatant, his cock straining against those tight gray pants he'd been wearing since the rescue. His hands were quick and his movements were sloppy yet he still was able to expertly find every little thing that got you off. At one point, Howzer had you bent over the counter of a shelving unit, roughly pounding you from behind with his hand pressed against your mouth. His normally perfectly styled hair was falling out of place, strands hanging down his sweat-slicked forehead. He had you seeing stars quicker than you’d anticipated, and when he was nearly at his own climax, he pulled out of you and finished off into the palm of his hand, punctuating the moment with a slap to your ass and a soft, breathy kiss to your temple that juxtaposed it all. 

You’ve been working alongside clones for over a year now–since your boss had decided to covertly join the fight–and you’ve gotten to meet many of these familiar yet unique faces. It’s never been the way it was with Captain Howzer, though – not that you’re looking for that. However, since meeting him that evening, you always had the teeniest of hopes that you’d see him around again. 

And now, several months later, you’ve run into him here on Teth.

You try to hide your growing smile by pressing your lips together and looking down at your feet as you walk. His boots fall in line behind you, and not even several steps later, he clears his throat.

“Remember me?” 

His voice comes from behind you, gruff and playful at the same time, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him from where he’s following behind you, his lips quirked at the corners.

You keep your voice low, glancing behind you as you walk. “Captain Howzer,” you greet simply.

He hums.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without the Imperial prison uniform,” you add.

Howzer lets out a wry laugh. “Felt real good to finally get out of those grays,” he tells you. “Felt even better to get back into my armor again.”

The group pauses, the leaders awaiting the doors to open.

“Glad to see you’re doing better,” you add, turning to face him fully. “This is quite the operation you guys have going on here.”

You swear you see Howzer briefly check you out, subtly eyeing you from head to toe. He grins. “So, what brings you here?”

“A job for the Senator. Apparently I’m good at getting you clones to share your stories and experiences.”

It’s the truth–that’s why you were assigned here for a while–but you’re also laying down little hints, something you know isn’t very professional of you but Howzer’s already reeled in.

He laughs at that, picking it up quickly. “I’ll say. I’d be happy to share even more with you.”

Barely minutes into a conversation with him and you’re already getting worked up, heat building in your lower stomach. “And I’d be happy to listen, Captain. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Howzer pitches his voice even lower. “How long will you be here for? You know, to listen?”

“Oh, that depends on how much you lot have to share.”

The same look appears in his eyes from your interaction all those months ago – the look that led the two of you into that supply closet. Even as the group continues inside, you can still feel his eyes on you. 

“Once you’re settled, ma’am,” he says just a little louder, playing the part, “I’d be happy to brush you up on our progress here. For the Senator, that is.”

You once again fight to hide your knowing smile. “I’d be happy to listen, Captain Howzer. I’ll find you once I’ve settled in?”

He exhales deeply, a sly grin on his lips. “How about I give you a tour of the place first?”

Impatient. 

But, honestly, so are you.

You look to your security and they nod in unison, and they step off to the side with a group of clones who are huddled over by the scanners. 

You follow Howzer all the way to a seemingly unused doorway. He pushes it with some force to get it to budge, opening it up to the stairwell spiraling against the inner walls of the spire. The only lighting within the stairwell comes from the torch he just clicked on, and he takes your hand, guiding you down the spiraling steps until reaching the next platform. He sets the torch down and holds your shoulders, and you pull yourself closer to him.

“You know what’s been on my mind since seeing you come off the ship?” Howzer slips his hands under your shirt, teasing his way up to your chest. You gasp at his touches, legs already feeling like jelly. 

“Tell me.”

He leans in. “How good you felt wrapped around my cock.”

You can tell just how wet you are already, and after waiting so many months to see him again, you’re growing impatient. 

“I’m having a hard time remembering that,” you tease. “Maybe you could jog my memory?”

Even in the dim light you are able to see just how dark Howzer’s eyes get, the shadows of his face deepening with the expression of lust etching in his handsome features. 

“Get your clothes off. Now.”

You start with your bottoms, pulling them off leaving yourself completely bare and exposed to the chilled air of the stairwell. Howzer doesn't take the time to remove all of his armor, only focusing on the parts that would get in the way. Before you can remove your shirt, Howzer stops you, his cock already hardened and in his hand.

“That’s good for now,” he orders breathily. Back against the stone wall, you bend your leg at the knee and Howzer takes it to hold against his armored hip as he guides his cock between your legs.

“You’re so wet,” he comments in a voice far too deep. He nudges into you, and the feeling was an incredibly missed one. “Gonna take me so well, baby. Just like you did before.” 

“Howzer…”

“Hang on to me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and Howzer hoists you up, effectively impaling you on his cock in the process. You cry out, the sound echoing throughout the stairwell.

“Gotta be a little quieter than that,” he chuckles confidently. “I haven’t even moved yet, pretty girl.” He kisses you then, his lips too soft for what you know is to come. “Promise me you’ll stay quiet. Can’t have anyone hear us down here.”

“Promise.”

With your back pressed against the wall and your entire lower half suspended in air by Howzer’s strong grip, you press your lips tightly together, and nod to give him the go ahead. 

Howzer adjusts his grip and starts to move. He snaps his hips roughly, creating repetitive echoes of the sounds throughout the stairwell. Armor on skin. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him fucking you again to care about anything else. Your head falls back against the stone wall but Howzer won’t have that. 

Between heavy breaths, he brings you back. “Eyes on me.”

When you meet his eyes again, you start to crumble. Even in this state they’re still such a soft, inviting brown, and you practically allow yourself to drown in them as you both near the finish. He sets you down on shaky legs, and turns you around. You present your ass to him, arching your back the way you know he likes. Howzer chuckles at that and quickly lines himself up to enter you again.

“Gonna paint this pretty ass,” he promises through gritted teeth. 

The change of angle sends you into a frenzy, only this time, you’re able to cover your mouth.

The way Howzer fucks you is so needy and frantic, everything that was pent-up driving the way he snaps his hips and grips your skin. You can feel him everywhere – consuming you. Your body starts to shake when your orgasm hits and Howzer can feel it – it affects the speed of his movements with how tight you start to clench around him.

“Fuck – that’s it – so tight.” He groans – a syrupy rumble in his throat. “Feels even better than I remember. Shit.”

You quiver as Howzer yanks his cock from you. The feeling of the loss is soon replaced by the feeling of his cum spurting onto your skin, the sensation making you moan. You must look like quite a sight, because he keeps humming and groaning quietly as he continues to fist his cock, milking every last drop onto your skin. 

Howzer pulls a small cloth from one of his pouches and wipes you off with it, helping you stand upright on your shaky legs. He starts to reattach his kit to his armor as you pull your bottoms back on, doing your best to fix yourself up without a mirror. 

“Now that we got that out of the way…” The both of you laugh before you continue, “Wanna actually share with me some useful information that I can relay to my boss?”

Howzer wipes his forehead – combs his fingers through his hair. “That I can do.”

-

It’s been a few weeks since you got to the base, and you’ve been welcomed by all as if you were one of them. 

You’re all on the same side here. 

You even have your own room, a place to retreat to when you need some privacy, and the men set up sleeping arrangements in there for you as well. You contact your office once a rotation to keep them up to date, though there hasn’t been much to tell as of yet. What you do know is that the clones are planning something big, a mission to help free more of their brothers, and you suppose you’re going to be here until that becomes more defined. Your security–well, they’re the Senator’s security–left after the first day because they were really only there to protect you, a member of the Senator’s staff, while traveling to Teth. After they did their job, they left, leaving you to do your job in peace.

Since your first day, you’ve gotten to know quite a few of the men who are stationed here, and you’ve been able to speak to the leadership as well as the ones who normally stay back while a certain few others come and go, whether it be with the leaders or on their own respective missions. Captain Howzer is one of the men who come and go, mostly staying at the side of Rex, the clone captain who was the original contact of your boss, the reason why you got into this job in the first place. 

You stay inside of the Monastery, not being a huge fan of the climate outside the stone walls. What you do enjoy is stepping outside to see the sunset and watching how the two moons rise into the mauve sky, when the humidity isn’t at its peak. Otherwise, you’d never venture out into the tangly jungle, or dare to climb the rocky terrain by yourself. 

When Captain Howzer is around, though – you end up wandering off to places you normally would never go on your own. He keeps you busy, even when you both have some downtime from your duties. 

Your secret encounters started off with him simply sneaking into your room at a time when nobody would ask questions. Then, it became him guiding you to remote locations within the base grounds, like the leech vessel that remains safely docked halfway down the spire, or even the transport ship that’s been under maintenance. You’ve even found yourselves behind closed doors in the communications room in the dead of night, riding his lap in one of the chairs. It’s always been quick sex so as to not get caught, but there’s a connection there that has you both feeling its pull. He always finds you before leaving for a mission, and never fails to pay you a visit once he’s back and debriefed. Hells, Howzer even kisses you like he misses you, but it’s just physical, and has to stay that way.

Currently, Captain Howzer and several others are away – gone for the past few rotations. To be completely honest, without him as an obvious distraction, you’ve been able to really focus on your job. 

You’ve just gotten off a call with your office and are finishing typing out notes into your datapad, when Fireball, one of the clones who was rescued from an Imperial prison transport nearly a year ago, calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Chow time!” 

A man who has quickly become one of your favorites, Fireball has long been the elected sous-chef around here, gladly taking up the responsibility of feeding his brothers when Captain Gregor is away. He’s cooked for you every day since you got here, making the dishes just as spicy and flavorful as you like. Not only have the two of you bonded over the food, you’re sometimes the only two inside of the main area of the base while everyone is either keeping up with their own duties around base or off-world on a mission. In those moments, Fireball has been able to really dig deep into his past experiences with you, sharing some of the more painful details that he’d otherwise keep buried and repressed. It isn’t always gloomy conversation, though; he is quite funny and keeps you entertained with cheerful anecdotes from his days as a soldier of the Republic. You’ve truly started to look forward to eating and chatting with Fireball. 

With a smile, you set down your datapad and head to the kitchen, where Fireball starts to shovel out stew from a pot into a bowl for you.

“Smells delicious,” you tell him appreciatively, taking the warm bowl from him. “Thank you, Fireball.”

“You’re very welcome.” He returns your smile, offering you a seat at the table. “I think I’m getting the hang of this cooking thing. Gregor taught me some of his recipes and I’ve enjoyed making them my own.” He sits down beside you at the table, watching you take your first bite with his brows raised. “This is my take on tiingilar – added my own modifications. What do you think?”

The warm colors of the vegetables and the spicy scent of the steam rising from the surface really add to the flavor of the bite, all of it coming together and melting right into your mouth.

“Wow – this is good. You really know how to win over a woman’s heart, Fireball.”

You could swear you see his cheeks darken with a blush, his eyes casting downward as he takes a few bites of his own. “It’s the Captain who’s won you over, from what I’ve been hearing,” he then adds with a chuckle. “Howzer’s been asking about you every time he makes contact. I should know – I mostly man comms around here.” 

It’s your turn to blush, your cheeks heating with the comment. “I-It’s not like that,” you stammer awkwardly, failing to defend yourself. “I’ve been helping h– talking him through some things.” Fireball looks amused, still slurping on his stew and watching you trip over your words. “I– we– I mean not we, but– ”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he interrupts, waving you off. “I haven't spoken a word to anyone about your relationship with the Captain.”

You freeze.

“...Relationship?”

Fireball leans close, pitching his voice low. “I know about you two.” Your heart nearly drops, but he’s quick to offer you relief. “Howzer told me. He wanted to make sure that if anyone found out, I’d catch the chatter first on comms. I know it probably wouldn't be very beneficial for your office to find out.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” You wipe the embarrassment from your face. “How long have you known?” Taking a heaping bite, you purposefully avoid his eyes. 

“Well, I've known ever since I sort of walked in on the two of you last week.”

You almost choke on the bite. “What?”

“In the comms room,” he quickly adds. “I’m normally up to check the channels every hour. I could hear the two of you behind the closed door, thankfully, before I could open it.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he chuckles. “I’m just glad Howzer’s in a better mood overall. Now I can figure that’s because of you.”

You blink at him. Something sits wrong in your gut, and it’s not the stew. The last thing you want is for the guys here to think of you as a piece of meat – someone who is only here to offer them relief in a physical way. If word got out about what you and Captain Howzer have been getting up to, not only would that tarnish the view of you in the clones’ eyes, but would cost you your job for sure. 

“Hey, I was sent here to help all of you – to offer an ear for your experiences but while also taking down anything of note to help the cause for not just my people but yours as well.” You sit up straighter, setting the spoon down. “We are all on the same side here, but I’m not just– not just a booty call.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry,” Fireball amends, his hand coming to rest over your own. “I know why you’re here. You helped me on the day I was rescued, too.” He smiles. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for me on my first day of freedom, how you showed compassion and empathy towards what I’d gone through with the Empire.”

You soften then, offering an apologetic smile. You remember Fireball, meeting him in the same garage in the lower levels of Coruscant only a few months prior to Howzer’s rescue. “I’m glad I was able to help.”

A silent minute goes by then, the two of you finishing up your stew. When you take the last bite, he collects your empty bowl, making the short walk to the kitchen and setting them in a pile to be cleaned later. 

“You being present, eating with me says more than you know,” Fireball adds after taking his seat beside you once again. “Normally I’m by myself in here when the leadership is away, back and forth between keeping the others fed and monitoring communications.”

You nod along with his words, unable to hide your growing smile stemming from your heated cheeks. Fireball continues and you listen.

“It’s just nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody different.” He rubs at the back of his neck, flashing you a bashful grin. “It doesn't hurt that you’re beautiful, too. I understand why Howzer’s so taken with you.”

Something clicks then. 

You’ve developed a crush on Fireball. 

It makes sense – him being someone who’s always there, someone who you’re always looking forward to chatting with. Of course he’s attractive, but it’s not just the exterior you admire about him; you truly appreciate who he is as a person – the decisions he made leading up to his turn against the Empire. Sacrifice. Heart. He’s brave and resilient. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you think he feels some type of way about you as well. 

You and Howzer aren’t a thing. It’s okay to feel something for somebody else.

“I have to confess something,” you say to him, locking eyes with his curious ones, rounding as you begin to speak. “The guys here are so lucky to have you on their side. You’re a real catch – and honestly, any woman would be lucky to have you, too.”

The mood suddenly changes – the air charged. You want him, you decide. You briefly reason with yourself that this would not go against what you were saying before, about how you don’t want to sully the guys’ opinions of you by offering yourself up like this. This – this is different. You feel a connection with Fireball, one that’s full of tension that’s ready to snap at any moment. It’s too strong to turn your head away from, and you’re well aware the man sitting beside you feels the very same.

“Oh yeah?” Fireball bites his lip – runs his fingers through his hair. His voice lowers, gruffer and thick. The sound of it goes through your core. “Any woman?”

You take a beat, your heart thumping in your chest. He’s gotten closer – subtly leaning toward you. His hand slowly comes up, fingers gently pinching your chin.

“Say it, beautiful.”

You know he can do more than just cook and make you laugh – a man who is competent with more than just incendiary weapons. He’s been holding something back for a long time, you just know it.

“I want you,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. 

And you want him to let loose.

“Stand up.” 

Even though his voice came out just as quiet as yours, his tone was firm and certain, nothing to defy. You’re quick to stand, and in seconds Fireball is standing as well, his hands grasping your upper arms. You blink at him, awaiting for what should come next. You sense that he’s going to be the one calling the shots here – guiding you exactly where he wants you to go. He may not be part of the leadership around here but he sure as hell is in charge at this very moment. His eyes are deep in thought, that much you can tell. You figure he’s trying to decide on where to start, and the anticipation is making you clench around nothing.

Finally, his eyes make a decision, his hands offering your arms a gentle squeeze.

“Turn around.”

You oblige, awaiting further guidance. 

“I also have something to confess,” Fireball says, his lips just behind your ear. You hold your breath as his hands travel all over your body, his touches featherlight and teasing. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Ever since you got here, maybe even before, when I’d heard you’d be joining us for a while.”

“Oh yeah?”

He bends you over the table in one motion, and pulls your bottoms down to your knees in the next. You swallow thickly as his discarded gloves plop beside you on the tabletop. Breathlessly glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of him slowly crouching down, his face just inches away from your bare skin. 

“Yeah. And when I heard you and the Captain in the comms room last week, I had to find someplace quick to work one out. Couldn’t get the sounds you were making out of my head.”

Fireball caresses your skin, his fingers coming close to your folds. Knowing he’s that close to touching you where you want makes you clench, a sight that he appreciates. 

“Has… Howzer ever tasted you before?”

The question alone makes you whimper. 

“N–no. Not yet.”

He only hums at that.

“Fireball – touch me, please.”

He continues to tease you, fingers gently prodding through your folds. The soft squelching sound of your arousal heats your face. Growing impatient and desperate for something more, you wiggle your hips, hoping to hint at him to stop teasing and get to it.

“You said to touch you, beautiful, and I am touching you. If you’re wanting something else, I need to hear you ask nicely.”

You could almost roll your eyes at that, but you’re far too worked up to be a brat. You know from experience that certain behaviors, though they can be fun, won’t get you very far.

“Please put your mouth on me. I want to feel your mouth on me, please.”

His response to you is a throaty chuckle, soon followed by exactly what you asked for. When he finally puts his mouth on you, you nearly cry out in relief. 

He starts slow – still teasing while giving you the bare minimum. His lips plant little kisses to the backs of your thighs and all over your folds, his hands holding your hips steady. You’re so worked up that even the small amount he’s granting you is almost enough, but knowing what’s still to come, your body aches for more. 

“Fireball, please, more.”

“I appreciate the manners.” You feel him chuckle again behind you, the vibrations even more teasing. Finally, you feel his tongue poke out between his lips, prodding through your folds. 

You slam your hand against the tabletop. “Oh, fuck.”

He hums in satisfaction, quickly losing himself in your taste. Fireball practically latches his mouth to your pussy, his tongue vigorously working its way through and between your folds. The suction of your clit caught in his lips nearly ends you right then and there, but sensing that you’re incredibly close, he removes his mouth from you and instead stands. Disappointed, you turn your head to face him, catching sight of him wiping his mouth and removing the guard on his armor. 

“I need to know what you feel like wrapped around me, beautiful.”

Seemingly awaiting your approval, Fireball runs his fingers through his hair, holding his hardened cock in his other hand. You gulp at the size of him, flushed and leaking. You haven't even touched him and he looks like he’s about to bust, his own arousal coming from just the taste of you.

“Fuck me, then.”

He hums.

You feel the head of his cock slide through the mess he made between your legs, and as he pushes himself in the slightest, you can’t help the shudder that rips through your body. He’s big, and even though you’re more than wet enough to take him, you’re clenching too much in anticipation. 

He laughs at that – soft and sweet yet full of cockiness. 

“Easy, darling. Barely even inside of you yet.” Fireball groans, the sound of it sending even more heat to your core. “Take a deep breath for me.”

You do, and he feeds his cock into you in that very breath. 

“I won’t last very long,” he tells you once his armored hips are flush with your rear. “You feel too incredible.”

He starts to thrust then, slowly at first and even at the current pace you’re losing your mind. He’s so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. You don’t realize just how silent you’ve been through it all–too focused on holding your breath and keeping the noise to a minimum–until Fireball comments on it, briefly pausing and checking in to make sure you’re okay.

“‘M fine,” you assure him. Your hand finds his own from where it's grabbing your hip – extra reassurance. “Faster. Go faster. Please.”

You’re guided into a standing position, your back meeting the cool, hard armor covering his body. Fireball’s hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing with too much pressure but it's very much there. His other hand finds its way between your legs, rubbing at your clit to match his increasing speed. It isn’t long until you’re crying out in ecstasy into the palm of your head, tears brimming in your eyes at the intensity of it all. When you climax, Fireball feels it for sure, his own cresting at breakneck speed.

“Where do you want me,” he breathily gasps into your ear, still rubbing your clit into overstimulation. You don’t have it in you to care though, legs wavering from your ongoing climax. 

“Inside,” you whimper. “I have the implant.”

“Fuck, okay.”

Fireball cums inside of you – and the feeling is indescribable. 

Never before have you been with a partner who felt like this during an orgasm. He makes the most sinful of noises as his cock swells deep inside of you, his body shaking against yours. He pants into your ear while your entire cunt heats with his amount of release, enough of it to seep out even with his cock still fully inside of you, feeling it trickle down your thighs.

Fireball bends you down against the table once again when he pulls out, a gush of warmth following. Crouched down to watch his handiwork, he swipes his fingers through some of the mess along your inner thighs, bringing it back to where it belongs.

“Messy girl. Took me so well.” He stands, guiding you back to your feet, “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

“Anybody could have walked in on us,” you laugh breathlessly, that very realization making you quick in redressing, not caring about the mess still dribbling down your thighs and now soaking your underwear.

Tucking himself back into his undersuit and reattaching his guard piece, Fireball blinks dreamily at you. You’re pulled in by the look in his eyes, full of satisfaction and adoration. Your lips meet then, a passionate kiss that punctuates the moment perfectly.

“I should get to the comms,” he tells you almost apologetically. You nod in understanding, meeting his lips for another kiss. “See you around?”

“Of course,” you reply. “Looking forward to our next meal and conversation.” 

The unspoken third activity hangs in the air, Fireball grinning knowingly at the implication.

-

It wasn’t even an hour later when some of the others came back to base after being away for a few rotations. You heard the team return, conversations loud enough to sound as if they were occurring just outside your room. Something about running into another shadow – those assassins you’ve been briefed on. Figuring this is a conversation you should be apart of, you gather your datapad and go to head out the door.

Right as you’re opening the door, Howzer is there.

“Welcome back,” you tell him with a hint of surprise in your voice, not at all expecting him to be right there. “I was just coming out to see what was going on.”

“We’ll debrief you later. Rex and Gregor have other business to attend to at the moment.”

You set down your datapad. “Oh, okay. Well, if you’re hungry, there’s a huge pot of tiingilar on the stove that was made about an hour ago. Should still be pretty warm–”

Howzer interrupts you when his lips passionately meet yours. 

“There’s only one thing I’m hungry for,” he mumbles against your lips, quickly shutting the door behind him. “And she’s standing right here in front of me.”

You giggle at that, once again being swept off your feet when Howzer’s lips reconnect with yours. It happens so fast – his hands roaming your body. Too lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours and his tongue tasting your lips you don’t realize one of his hands has already lost a glove and found its way into your pants until you jolt from the sensation. Your reaction makes Howzer pause, a curious brow raised. 

You never cleaned yourself up from earlier. A request to make contact with your office had come in immediately following what took place in the kitchen, and you were so consumed with work that you completely forgot to take care of yourself. 

And Howzer noticed. 

“What’s the matter? A little sensitive down there, baby?”

You only manage a nod, bashfully smiling through it against his lips. Howzer continues, only now his fingers move your soaked panties to the side. He pauses again, this time pulling his face from yours. 

“Oh?” He hums playfully, narrowing his eyes yet still keeping his cocky smirk. “You're a mess.” 

His fingers slip inside you with ease, and his eyes widen. You choke on a gasp when his fingers pull from you, his hand raising up between your faces for you both to see. Coated on his digits is the creamy film of a mixture of releases, and some of it still dripping from your pussy from what happened between you and Fireball.

“Now who did this?”

Howzer once again lowers his hand and slips his fingers inside of you, pulling them out only to swipe at your sensitive clit. The motions make your body jolt again, and he takes notice, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

“Here I was thinking you took care of yourself because you’re just so needy.” He shakes his head, his tongue coming to wet his lips. “Now I see I’m not the only one you’re fucking around here.”

Howzer wipes his hand onto his glove, his eyes never leaving yours. Guilt and shame immediately flood your entire body – but you’re unsure why. You and Howzer aren’t a thing – nothing official. So why does he sound so–not angry, not upset–disappointed?  

He tilts his head, a cocky look once again appearing on his face as he watches you.  

“Hey, it's okay,” he tells you genuinely, reaching for your arms and pulling you towards him. He guides you toward a wall, your back firmly pressed against it. “I don't mind sharing. Why don't you tell me who it was, baby? Tell me who beat me into cumming in this perfect pussy while I was away.”

Crouching down, Howzer guides your bottoms off, pulling them from your feet and tossing it all to the side. He watches how you squirm under his gaze, his eyes taking note of every detail from the encounter you had. 

“Couldn't have been Gregor,” he comments absently, swiping his fingers through your mess. He plants a kiss to an unsullied part of your inner thigh. “Couldn't have been Rex, either.”

The very names of both captains being used in this context makes you shiver, the thought of either of them touching you in such a way heating you up inside. They’re both incredibly competent – strong – skilled. You’re sure they’d completely and utterly ruin you for anybody else. 

Howzer chuckles at your reaction and stands up, his hand still toying with you. “It wasn't them but I can tell you wouldn't mind that, hm? Such a filthy, needy girl. You'd take all of us at one time if that were possible, wouldn't you?”

The thought truly never crossed your mind until now – something to revisit later. You’re getting yourself into trouble – the best kind. You’re afraid of getting addicted to the feeling of these men touching you, first Howzer and then Fireball. They may be clones, but from what you can tell so far, they do things in their own, unique ways. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at all curious about how the others would handle you – if they’d take you roughly, tenderly – if they’d use their mouth on you or speak filth into your ear. 

Your own fantasies scare you – threatening to make you lose sight of who you are and why you’re here. The most debauched of images flash into your mind – a scene of multiple men of this base taking turns using you in any way they desire. 

Fingers slowly thrusting into you as he awaits your response, you gasp out a shaky “Yes”, making Howzer bite his lip.

He peers at you with darkened eyes. “We can discuss that later.”

But he's not finished questioning you yet.

“Was it Greer? Samson?” Howzer’s hand quickens, fingers plummeting harder into you. He curls them, too – massages the spot that makes your brain fuzzy. Lips brushing against your jaw, he continues to rattle off a few more familiar names, but you shake your head at each of them.

“Nemec?”

No.

“Fireball?”

When you finally hear his name, you can't help but gasp. Howzer catches on, humming thickly at your wordless confession.

“Ah, I see. I'm sure he was good to you, baby, so why are you this needy and wanting more?” 

Howzer removes his hand then, instead heading over toward the door, leaving you pantsless and unfulfilled. 

“Howzer, please.” 

Hand reaching for the door controls, he turns his head over his shoulder. “Why don't I call Fireball in here so he can properly take care of you, hm? Seems you were left unsatisfied.”

When you don't respond right away, Howzer approaches you, his face serious and concerned. He takes your hand. “If this is too much, please let me know. It's all just talk if that's what you're comfortable with. We don't need to take it further.”

“I appreciate your caution. I really do – but I'm fine with it, Howzer.”

“You're sure?”

“I– I like that idea,” you admit quietly. 

Howzer raises an intrigued brow.

You feed into it then, reiterating the foundation of all this talk.

“I let Fireball cum inside of me.” 

“I know, baby. Want to tell me what else he did?”

“He ate me out from behind and fucked me against the kitchen table.”

Howzer’s eyes widen at your confession but narrow just as quickly, seemingly disapproving of the carelessness you displayed. Every encounter you had with Howzer so far has been off the beaten path, definitely not in a common area in the middle of the day no less. 

He shakes his head.

“Anybody could have walked in on you two.”

It was risky – but exciting.

You bite your lip at the memory.

“I know.”

“When was this?”

“About an hour ago.”

Letting out a deep sigh, Howzer puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side in thought. He watches you intently with his lips twisted. “Hm. Clean yourself up, then take off your clothes and get on the bed. I'll be back soon, okay?” 

You nod, Howzer kissing you before throwing out one last command: “And don’t touch yourself.”

Body shaking and your heart pounding with anticipation, you quickly clean yourself up with a damp rag and shed the rest of your clothing before getting into your bed, just as you were instructed. Implications of Howzer’s final comments to you has you spiraling, different scenarios coming to the forefront of your mind. He’s going to get Fireball, you know it. He’s going to bring him right here to you, and the two of them will take turns with you – or, maybe, they’ll use you at the same time.

Your pussy flutters at that idea.

You try your hardest to present yourself in the best way for their return, propping yourself up against your pillows and wrapping the blanket around parts of you that they would have to remove themselves to expose you. It’s a lengthy twenty or so minutes until Howzer returns, but just as you thought, Fireball’s right at his side. 

“Hello, boys,” you say in the sweetest voice you can muster, despite the small amount of disappointment for the wait. Their eyes flash the very same dark shade of desire, pooling deep in those soft brown eyes they share. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, darling. I made sure no one would be around. Had to make up an excuse to borrow Fireball for the evening.”

“You didn’t touch yourself while you were waiting, did you, beautiful?”

Your eyes flicker to Fireball, shaking your head no.

“Good girl. Following orders so well already.”

Howzer agrees and starts to undo his holders and the rest of his armor, Fireball wordlessly following the other in preparation. Neither of them take their eyes off of you for too long, staring at you as if they mean to devour you completely.

And you think they just might. 

Dressed only in their undersuits now, Howzer doesn’t break eye contact with you as he addresses the other, gesturing to you with a jolt of his chin.

“Fireball, she told me what you did out in the kitchen, where anybody could have walked right in,” he begins, that same firm, disapproving tone present in his voice as it was with you. “Now, I want you to show me exactly what you did to make our girl so damn messy.”

Our girl. 

You could get used to this.

“Of course.” Fireball grins. “I’d be happy to.”

You bite your lip at Fireball as he approaches, but you glance quickly to Howzer, who has decided to sit this one out in the chair against the wall. 

His eyes don’t leave you, though. He’s going to watch.

“A proper bed,” Fireball comments, caressing your cheek in the palm of his hand. He rips the blanket from your body and leans toward your ear, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “I can’t wait to break you apart. I’m going to ruin you, beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat, then Howzer speaks up in the background almost knowingly. “We all know the color system, correct?” 

Not looking towards the man in the chair, you nod, Fireball nodding along with you. 

“Good.” 

With that, Howzer leans back, legs spread. You can already see the outline of his cock straining in his skin-tight pants.

He wants a show, and you’re going to give him one.

That is, if Fireball doesn’t destroy you first. 

“I can’t believe how messy you were,” Fireball comments in disbelief as his hand slips between your legs. “Kept me inside of you that whole time, even let Howzer finger you like that.” He continues stroking you, paying extra attention to your clit. “Spread your legs this way,” he directs, angling your body so you’re exposed to Howzer. Fireball teases you in the same fashion as he did just a little while earlier, planting kisses all over your thighs and folds until you’re begging him for more. Howzer, meanwhile, has started to palm himself over his clothes, watching with his lips parted.

The extra pair of eyes on you turns you on even more. 

“Fireball, use your tongue like you did before.”

He smacks his lips, squeezing your thigh in warning. “Now, now, where are the manners you were using so politely before?”

You’re not in charge here. You never were.

“...Please.”

Satisfied, Fireball grins. “Good girl.”

He attacks your pussy with his tongue, only this time, he’s sloppier. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or maybe it’s the audience, but he’s using his tongue in a way that has your head spinning and hips bucking. Fireball seems to be spurred on by this, doubling his efforts and even using an arm to keep you pressed into the bed. He switches to suck vigorously at your clit before lapping at you and it’s already far too much. Your body is desperate for release. 

“I’m– I'm going to cum. Please let me cum. Please.”

He pulls his mouth from you, his lips smacking against your wet folds from a sloppy kiss. Wiping his mouth, he flashes you a devilish grin.

“Not yet. You’re going to cum on my cock, just like before.”

Defeated, you flop your head back onto the bed, your climax receding. You know that the disappointment won’t last for long, though. 

Fireball stands, kicking his bottoms all the way off and peeling his shirt off over his head. You’re granted a perfect view of his entire body, the muscles and hair and soft patches making your head spin. You even discover he has a tattoo – a rather large piece that starts from his hip and travels up his side, the shape of flames twisting around to his pectoral. 

You go to adjust, to change position, but Fireball stops you. “No, no. You lay just like that,” he tells you, guiding you back to where you were. “Hold your knees up for me. Good girl – just like that.” 

Still laying on your back, both men have a perfect view of your pussy, clenching with need before their eyes. 

Fireball leans down to your ear again, his cock hot and dragging heavy against your stomach. He’s so incredibly warm. “We’re going to give him a show. When I cum, I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it all like the good girl you are.”

You gasp at his filthy words of promise, but Fireball isn’t pleased with your lack of verbal response. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, not hard, but definitely firm enough to get your attention. “You tell me if I’m going too rough,” he asks you sincerely. “I’m having fun with you, but stop me if it’s going over the line.” You nod weakly, desperate to feel him between your legs once again. He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

“I’ll let you know,” you promise. “I’m green, Fireball.”

“Good.”

With that, he stands back up at the edge of the bed, scooping his hands under your rear and dragging you up above the edge. Your hands grab at your knees as instructed.

“Deep breath,” he commands, turning his head over his shoulder at Howzer, almost as if he’s giving him a pointer – a jab about his size. 

Your lower half hovering over the bed, you take that deep breath, already knowing what’s to come. Fireball impales you on his cock, sinking even deeper than before without the armor as a hindrance. Every part of his hips and groin make contact with your skin this time, including the maintained curls at the base of his cock. He holds there for a few moments, taking deep breaths, almost as if he’s composing himself. 

You once again glance at Howzer, his cock outside of his waistband now and being fisted by his hand. 

You could gush from the sight alone.

“I’m green,” you remind Fireball.

Sweat already starts to bead at his hairline, strands of hair falling out of place. He looks wrecked already and he hasn’t even begun moving yet. 

“You feel incredible like this,” he sighs in admiration. “I should just have you sit on my cock while I’m manning comms. Keep it warm for hours until you’re shaking.”

“Fuck, Fireball–”

“Yeah, would you like that, beautiful? To be my pretty little cockwarmer?”

“For fucks sake, enough,” Howzer growls out from behind him. “Just fuck her already, or step aside.”

You almost laugh at how Howzer’s impatience is somehow shorter than your own, but Fireball isn’t having it. He goes from zero to ten in seconds, pulling his cock all the way out before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts from each thrust, breaths being punched out of your lungs almost uncomfortably. The feeling of his cock knocking into the back wall of your cunt is all you can focus on, and as Fireball becomes more intense, he stalks talking. 

“Tell him, beautiful,” he begins, his skin slick with sweat and lips parted. “Tell him who the first one was to cum inside this pussy. Tell him who claimed you there first.”

You hear Howzer groan from behind him, and it spurs you on. You did want to give him a show, after all.

“You did, Fireball,” you choke out. “You did.”

“Damn right,” he continues, more hair falling out of place. “And I’m going to do it again, but you’re going to cum with me. You cum when I say and only when I say. Understood?”

“...Yes, sir.”

Your ranking comment seems to be one that does Howzer in, because you can hear the telltale sounds of the Captain cumming into his own hand. Fireball though, he takes your comment and runs with it, twisting his face into determination. The muscles of his abdomen flex violently as his thrusts change into quick jabs. He’s utterly disheveled, but he’s not done with you yet. 

“I can feel how close you are. You’re so fucking tight around my cock.”

You nod absently, too far gone to speak. There’s so much pressure built up inside of you that you feel you’ll burst at any moment; and that moment comes when Fireball’s fingers find your clit, rubbing at it in quick motions. 

“Cum. Now.”

You’re thankful to hear the words, because you fear you were about to anyway. You feel yourself gush around his cock, along with that familiar feeling of heat coming from his own release being pushed deep inside of you. You’re drunk on it – utterly lost in euphoria. Out of your body. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality is how Fireball caresses your cheeks, so incredibly tender compared to how he just handled you.

“You okay, beautiful?”

His eyes look wide with concern, full of fear that he crossed a line. You reassure him with the sincerest smile you can manage at the moment, your head still dizzy with endorphins. 

You then see Howzer appear beside Fireball, his face reading the same expression. 

You reach up to take Howzer’s hand. “You wanted Fireball to make a mess of me again,” you say quietly, still coming back to your body. “Look.”

Both men look at where you’re gesturing, their eyes blown wide and lips parting with a groan. You clench and relax your muscles, pearls of white seeping out from your swollen pussy and dripping onto the floor. You giggle tiredly at their shared reactions. 

“I know you need a break, baby,” Howzer says, running his hand along your thigh. “But I want you so bad right now.”

“Then have me,” you offer. “I promise I’m green, just a little tired is all.”

Fireball cleans himself off and starts to redress. “I’m going to get some water.” He hands Howzer a different rag and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Howzer lifts you and lays you down the other way, your head now supported by pillows. He strips off his undersuit and takes his place beside you, one hand caressing different parts of your body while the other carefully runs the rag between your legs.

“You’re breathtaking,” he tells you. “And you looked so good getting fucked like that.” 

You smile at him, holding his chin in your hand, running your thumb along the scar. “I can’t believe you just watched,” you tease. “I almost expected you to push Fireball out of the way, especially after how impatient you got.”

He laughs at that. “I’ll still have you, baby. I’m not worried.”

“Have me now, Howzer.”

“You sure?”

“Please. I want you.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll be gentle.”

Howzer climbs on top of you, holding your face in his hand as he swipes his cock through your folds. You wince at the sensation, far too oversensitive for any type of teasing. Even though he just came into his hand not long before you got yours, he’s already hard again, and easily slips inside of you. Both of you share a soft moan, Howzer’s eyes fluttering shut at the feel of you wrapped around him.

Your leg bent and held against his hip, he slowly starts to thrust, his heated chest pressed against yours. 

“I missed this,” he admits. “I thought about you a lot while I was away.”

“Fireball told me that you were asking about me every time you made contact.” You giggle when Howzer looks away in embarrassment, but your hand finds his scarred cheek, delicately redirecting his eyes to yours. “It was sweet.”

Howzer’s lips meet yours, his hips resuming that same, slow pace. It’s relaxed yet he’s still hitting so deep, a balming sensation that sends butterflies through your stomach.

A knock at your door makes you both pause briefly, but you soon recognize it as Fireball returning with water, and invite him in.

“Leave it on the table,” you direct Fireball. “And come over here.”

Howzer gives you a curious look, though not letting it phase his movements. Fireball obeys and is at your side in an instant. You take your hand from Howzer’s shoulder and instead reach for the waistband of Fireball’s undersuit. His brow raises, and this time, Howzer halts. 

“I want to suck your cock while Howzer fucks me.”

Both men once again widen their eyes.

“This is what I want,” you offer before either of them can object or make an argument for your sake. “Howzer, it’s okay, you can go a little harder. I know you want to.”

Howzer smirks at you and nods, adjusting himself to kneel upright so he can give you what both of you need. Fireball can’t help but reach for your breasts, running his hands all over your chest. You guide his cock out from his undersuit and he steps closer, resting a knee on the bed to get a good angle. 

“Howzer, I want you to cum inside of me. Fireball, I want you to cum on my tits.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hear one of them groan. 

Looking up at Fireball with pleading eyes, you open your mouth and extend your tongue. His jaw practically drops at your gesture, taking that as the goahead to feed his cock into your mouth. You taste the tang of release still clinging to his skin and you quickly start to crave it, your mouth watering for more.

Howzer resumes his own movements, his hands clinging to your hips like a vice. They both use you, one cock nudging the back of your throat while another punches into your gut. Howzer’s normally perfectly styled hair quickly becomes mussed from exertion, those combed strands collapsing down his forehead. 

Fireball thrusts into your mouth over and over again, drool starting to dribble down your cheek and chin. He keeps one hand occupied with squeezing your breasts while the other finds a home wrapped around your throat, just as it was earlier. That same tingly sensation floods your senses again from even the faintest of pressure offered, sending sparks to your core. 

“She’s so close,” Howzer tells the other, as if you aren’t there. 

Fireball smirks at that, squeezing your throat with just a little extra pressure.

“Fuck, do that again,” Howzer groans. “She liked that.” 

Fireball repeats the motion, squeezing then releasing, and each time you clench with the return of pressure. It’s so much and just when you thought you couldn’t possibly have another one in you, your third orgasm of the evening hangs right there, though this one doesn't feel as disastrous. You start to welcome it but hold back, awaiting permission.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” Fireball coos. “Cum for us.”

Howzer chimes in, slowing his thrusts and angling his hips upward to hit that spot he knows will send you over the edge. “C’mon, baby. You can cum.”

When it arrives, it washes over you like a cool, replenishing rain, different from the others that were burning hot and unforgiving. You feel at ease and brand new. You feel safe with these men, knowing they’d do anything to take care of you. As you start to come down from your relaxed high, the pair dote on you with praise and gentle touches, then switch their focus to finishing themselves. You help them get there anyway you can, adding in extra clenches for Howzer and tongue movements for Fireball. 

It isn’t much longer after that when Fireball pulls out of your mouth and pumps himself at the head, squeezing as his cock spurts his cum onto your chest. Howzer starts to crumble at the sight of the white ropes painting your breasts and drool coating your chin, and shortly after that, he’s burying himself as deep inside you as he can, pelvis flush with yours, and shakes and groans with his own release. 

Both of them looked wrecked yet so satisfied. They also share the same admiration in their eyes as they get you cleaned up and hydrated. 

Fireball sits at the edge of the bed, offering you and Howzer the blanket to cover up. 

“Can I ask you both a personal question?” You and Howzer glance at each other, nodding in unison to Fireball before he continues. “What started…” he gestures with his hands to the two of you lying beside one another in bed, “...This?”

“We actually met several months ago,” you start to explain.

“And hooked up that same day,” Howzer adds with a grin. “Guess we sort of picked up where we left off.”

You laugh. “Captain Impatient here couldn't wait to get me alone on my first day here.” 

Howzer shakes his head at your nickname, and Fireball only nods along as he listens to the two of you go back and forth. 

“I don’t want to get in the middle of anything,” Fireball finally chimes in. “You two have something here – and I don’t want to ruin that.”

You make eye contact with Howzer, both of you thinking the exact same thing. 

“You’re not ruining anything,” you assure him. “What Howzer and I have–” you look at Howzer again, to ensure you’re both on the same page, “--It won’t go beyond this right here.”

Fireball turns instead to his captain, wanting to hear what he has to say.

Howzer considers for a moment, tenderly grabbing your chin before responding. “I already told our girl here that I don’t mind sharing.” He pauses again. “That is– if you don’t mind sharing, Fireball.”

Fireball grins. “I definitely don’t mind. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting in the way of anything.”

Simultaneously, they both make eye contact with you. Howzer’s fingers delicately run across your cheek. “Are you okay with it, darling?”

You ponder their offer for a moment, thinking about everything it could cost you. You’re here for work, not for pleasure. You’re way out in Wild Space because you were entrusted with this job. Yes, you would lose this job if word got around that you’re sleeping with the clones. Yes, you’d lose the trust of many, and perhaps lose the faith of your people, who are counting on your office to fight against the Empire in a diplomatic way. 

But you look at these two men, one laying next you, the other sitting at your bedside. Both of them would protect you without a second thought. Both of them have already shown how much they care about you. Both of them still allow you to do your job, mutually benefitting from it. They take your mind off everything that’s going on – the oppression of your people, the tragic experiences of recently rescued clones, the disheartening news when a mission fails. 

And when the need arises, both of them can make you feel things unlike anything you’d ever felt before. It started with Captain Howzer – and you’re not at all about to turn away Fireball. You have strong connections with both of them, and you’re not willing to give up the physical aspects of those relationships. 

Sitting up, you grab their hands, holding them in your own. You keep a serious expression on your face, wanting to display that yes, you’ve given this a lot of thought, even though you already knew your answer. You want to show them that you’re taking this seriously, and that their caution and concern are dually warranted.

That serious expression of yours morphs into eagerness, a smile forcing its way across your lips.

“As long as I can do my job without too many distractions, and as long as my office doesn’t find out – I’m okay with it.”

#djarrex writes #captain howzer x reader #clone trooper fireball x reader #howzer x reader #fireball x reader #howzer x reader x fireball #the bad batch #tbb #clone thirsting

[yourlocalcryptidbee]

⭐NSFW Alphabet with Lucifer Morningstar

Good old NSFW Alphabet with our favourite duck man. Grab some snacks and a beverage, get comfy and enjoy <3

Template can be found here

~1.4k words

GN! Reader, mentions of makeup

Content Warning: NSFW, not proof read

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s attentive to your needs. The literal king of aftercare, whatever you want he can provide. A bath? You got it. Cuddles? A snack? A walk in the garden? Hell, more sex? You got it!  

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his tongue, plain and simple. The power he has over you with it is his favourite thing. Watching how you squirm just because of this one part of him, he’s ready to blow a load just thinking about it! You on the other hand, oh he’s tied between your thighs and your chest. The way your legs shake just that little bit when he’s doing something right? Or the way your chest HEAVES after you cum? It’s too good! 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Would eat your cum breakfast, lunch and dinner if given the chance. And trust, he’s tried to do that on multiple occasions. You stop him, saying something about having a “balanced diet” whatever that means…  

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Lucifer fantasizes about you riding him during a meeting. He’s caught himself thinking about you sitting on his lap, while he’s on the throne, bouncing up and down restlessly like your soul depends on it. He’ll sit and envision what everyone else’s reaction would be, although he isn’t the biggest fan of sharing so maybe this will have to stay a fantasy…until he can learn to hold that many clones of himself that is (;

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man has been around since before the creation of humanity, over 10,000 years! At least 8,000 of those years having sex with either Lilith or Eve. So yes, Lucifer knows what he’s doing, and he knows he knows that he’s good at it. It’s named ‘The devil’s tango’ for a reason ya’ll. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Spooning or really anything where all of him is pressed into all of you. He just wants to hold you, whatever position that may be. He may be sexy but he is still damaged, and this is vulnerable. Just let him lay all his lovin on you ok? 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Depends heavily on the foreplay, but on average he’ll start a lil goofy and turn more serious as the act goes on. But always be ready for a wayward joke here and there. Sometimes it’s just too good to pass up! (just like how having sex with you is too good to pass up)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s kept himself surprisingly well-groomed after his seven-year isolation. It’s trim and orderly the first time you see it, though it doesn’t matter that much because it’s such a pale blonde, that it’s basically invisible.  

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

My God, this man is bursting at the seams with love for you. His heart swells so much that it starts to hurt when he thinks about how he gets to participate in such a vulnerable and personal thing like sex with you. The most hated being in creation and you willing run into his trap, arms open and ready to envelop him in pleasure. Even if you can’t see it in his face or his words during the moment, he is always just so thankful that you could love him like this. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

At least once a day. He can’t help himself, plus he doesn’t have much going on most days sooo why not? No one’s stopping him, well you might but that's just cause you would rather help him than let him do it on his own.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It is Lucifer, he’s got the words ‘corruption kink’ written on his goddamn head. (attached to the neck or the shaft, dealer’s choice) Like dirty talk is a lot of ‘What would your Father Even think of you now? On your knees for me? Hm? Darling, I can’t hear you~’. They want him to be the antichrist? Fine. Spread your legs and give him until the sun rises and he’ll show just how cruel he can be. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His Throne, it’s the one place where he knows that no other person could even sit, let alone have sex on. This is the Sin of Pride, of course, his favourite place is centred around his power. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you call him yours, my king, my love, my slut. The little choice in wording that shows that you understand just how much of his heart you own, and that is all of it by the way. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While you’ve never done this because you understand, it turns him off real quick if you bring up his past love, Lilith. They’ve been divorced for years and he’s moved on but still, it rubs him the wrong way if you were to ask if ‘Lilith could fuck you like this, if she could love you like this or make you moan the way I do?’ Just No.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

10s 10s 10s all across the board! 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, depends on the foreplay but also how his depression is. If he is slipping into or is in another episode than its all sweet nothings, slow and romantic. If not than he’s more willing to go as fast as your body can handle. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Lucifer rathers to not have quickies but it happens. To him, it feels like he can’t make sure that you’re both getting what you want and he’d rather sell his soul to Alastor than leave you unsatisfied because of a goddamn time constraint. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He may be skeptical but he’ll try it. You got to try to know if you’ll like it. Plus you got quite the funny story from failed attempts at some things but that's part of the fun aint it?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s the Devil from the Bible! Lucifer is quite literally otherworldly, his stamina doesn’t run out, it’s allllllll on how long you hold on for, baby. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not the biggest fan of toys but if your adamant, he’ll give them a go again. Although ropes will always be on the table for him (;

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A constant tease! All day, every day honey. He thrives when teasing you but as soon as the tables turn he is melting like that! That being said, he’s learnt to be careful with how much he teases you, least he want a repeat of that day at that gala, and seeing as Ozzie still makes fun of him for it, he’d rather not. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His bedroom is soundproof. That’s explanation enough.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves it when you leave markings on him, scratches, bites, hickeys or d) all of the above. Don’t get him started on when your lipstick stains his face or clothes. Minimum 30% of all of his shirts have a crisp kiss mark on the collar and Lucifer wouldn’t have it any other way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Matches the rest of him pretty well, on the thin side as well as a blinding white colour while hitting a comfortable 7.8 inches. He knows exactly how to use it too. No wonder Lilith felt like That Bitch. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Need it being said? His sex drives rivals that of Angel Dust. Don’t start something you can’t finish.  

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If the two of you aren’t cuddling then he doesn’t fall asleep until it’s almost sunrise. If you do snuggle up on him then it’s lights out real quick. That mix of sex, your shampoo and your body against his is his ultimate melatonin. 

#hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne

[echo-lover]

Why are you watching this, it's for kids. Focus on life, find yourself a partner, have your own family. You are an adult. Grow up.

You don't understand it. This is not just a series...

This series gives me a chance to feel like a kid again. I find comfort, safety and care in the arms of characters who mean the world to me. I experience each of their moments of sadness, each of their smallest joys, as if they were my own. This is my home, my safe space. I love them with all my heart. Thank you Star-Wars for my beautiful family.

I love Wrecker because he always managed to put a smile back on my face, even when I was having the worst day ever. His cheerful personality makes it impossible not to like him. Sometimes he is just a child, trapped in a large man's body. Behind all this muscles and enormous strength that can easily hurt you, there is a soft heart made of gold. He can be gentle, soft, even quiet if he has to. He would do absolutely everything for his family. He is also way more intelligent than he might think. The way he takes care of Omega melts my heart every time. Kids love him and he loves kids.

I love Tech because he can quickly adapt to situations. His voice is so special... I could listen to him for hours and never get tired of his facts about everything he saw and heard on his missions. He showed me that being smart is not something I should be ashamed of. His voice is calming, gives me comfort... I love his little jokes and moments where he was just a little savage in conversations. Even though he processes moments and thoughts differently, he is still able to share his own feelings with Omega. She helped him open up and show the part of himself that he kept closed from the world, even from himself. He loved his family so much that he sacrificed himself for their safety, paying the biggest price. He is worth every tear I shed for him (and there were so many).

I love Echo because I see a part of myself in him. He has been with me from the very beginning of my journey with Clones, and is one of the most important characters for me. I relate to him for many personal reasons. Even though he has experienced so much evil in his life, he is still able to be gentle, caring and show love to those who were closest to him. I especially love his bond with Omega, they both understand each other through their traumas, and way more. Omega quickly became the most important to Echo, but he couldn't give up on fighting, even for her. He felt that he has to somehow compensate for all the lost years when he was a prisoner on SkakoMinor. His honor, loyalty and courage inspire me every day. And his tenderness and softness touch my soul deeply. I could talk about him for hours and never get bored. I wish I'd be able to give him the biggest and warmest hug, and tell him how important he is to me.

I love Crosshair because he's the type of character I could easily hate, but I don't. In fact Cross is very close to my heart, I feel sorry for him and I want to help him get back to his old self. He is so much more than what the Empire has done to him. This sniper who never misses, who doesn't have to use his muscles to hurt - words are enough for him - silent, yet sharp. Precise, accurate, always on point. Confident, knowing his skills. Painfully honest, but needing to prove his worth to others at the same time. I know there is this soft side of him, hidden, but it is there for sure. The side that loves his brothers and little sister more than his own life. He need some time to understand that he is worth all the love in the Galaxy and I hope that Omega will help him to realize, that his brothers never really left him. They would take him back, if he just wanted...

I love Hunter because he makes me feel safe. I can't put it into words, but he's a character that reminds me of home... a loved one that I lost some time ago. He is so much like my dad at some point and his bond with Omega is so special for me. I know he's not perfect, he makes mistakes just like everyone else, but he always wants to do the right thing. He is a leader, not the one that only gives orders, but he is more like the head of the family who protect them - a father. He always puts his family first and is willing to do anything for them. For any of them, including Crosshair. He often doesn't give direct orders, just suggestions. His squad is not just soldiers, but they are his brothers, his closest family. His priorities changed when Omega appeared in his life - a child in need of a family, who trusted him and gave him love that he had never received before. From a soldier, he became a father, who would give everything for his daughter's safety and joy. His relationship with Omega is the most important to me. I loved him from the first moment and I could talk about him for hours, just like about Echo. I will always defend him. No matter what.

I love Omega because she took the best parts of each of her brothers. She is fearless, brave, strong and ready to defend her family until the very end. She's just a sweet little girl who can't have a normal childhood. She's different, just like her brothers, and she's so proud of it. She is not afraid to show her individuality. But even though she is strong and brave, she is still just a child. She needs love, protection... family... and Bad Batch gave it to her... a home, a safe place, loving brothers... Words cannot describe how important she is to me. Now she has changed so much, she is no longer this little Omega from first season... I think she becomes so much like Hunter.

#the bad batch #star wars #clone wars #clones #never stop loving clones #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb #personal thoughts #i love bad batch

[jacarandaaaas]

I know it’s probably been said before but as an artist I can’t help but praise the character design of encanto

Like look at this whole cast of characters who are all related to eachother and still so distinct! One of my all time favorite facts about this movie is that the family are color coordinated! I love that so much because not only does it make it easier for the audience to tell which character comes from what side of the family but it’s also visually appealing!

Also the fact everyone’s outfit contains symbolism relating to their gift!? genius. and mirabels skirt being her own personal scrapbook where you can see she has everyone’s symbol a clever way to display her genuine pride for her family! Isabelas dress being closer to almas magenta than the other members of julietas family emphasizing shes closer with alma and is seen as her successor! I especially love how after “what else can I do?” She changes her dress colour to a dark blue representing that she’s finally found herself and doesn’t want to be just almas clone! She feels more comfortable with her own family and shows it by representing their color!

Also let’s talk about how pepas family all wear warm hues as shown to be bright, fun and ultimately happy. Which makes a lot of sense considering how pepas gift requires her to be happy all the time to avoid “bad weather”. Her family also wear warm tones to possibly help her maintain this and also because compared to what we see in the movie pepas children have a little less pressure and are considered more fun to be around! Also the fact green and magenta are opposite colors on the color wheel and Bruno and alma have a strained relationship. genius.

I just want to appreciate the character design because I feel like it’s just so creative and has had so much thought and heart put into it <3

#encanto #encanto disney #disneys encanto #mirabel madrigal #isabela madrigal #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal #abuela alma madrigal #I love character design #honestly I could make an entire post on each characters design because it’s just THAT GOOD #not to mention the diversity in skintone hair texture and body type #like these designs are so good are u kidding #also how sad they only get to be used once like??? #blue isa comeback when?

[freesia-writes]

Hey there! So... I saw your Valentine post and I would really love to read a little something with my beloved, if that's alright! I really like your blog and your vibe so I figured it would be a great read!

So if it's alright, I'd love to request a Crosshair x Fem!Reader where the reader is shorter than him, kind of with a grumpy/sunshine or a "stoic man goes soft when he looks at the woman he loves" kind of thing... I'm so weak for that trope, honestly, and Crosshair always sweeps me off my feet ❤️

No pressure at all, love! I'll be happy to read what you write for this February 14th.

Hugs!

Hellooooo friend! :) Thanks so much! I hope this is a warm and fuzzy little read for ya. Dividers courtesy of @stars-n-spice via this post. I wasn't sure if I should post them all on the 14th or just churn em out as I finish, but I figured I'd space em out a bit. 🤓

Crosshair x Reader (I think it could be Fem or GN; hair in the face is mentioned, as well as "looking pretty", but I think that's it)

1.2k words - SFW - content warnings are just flirtin n kissin. 😜

The indoor shooting range on Kamino hummed with the steady rhythm of blaster fire, the loud noise constantly reverberating off the walls. You stood at the edge of the range, observing the troopers as they honed their skills and ready to provide additional instruction or advice as needed. A tall, lanky figure caught your eye, and your heart skipped a beat. Clone Force 99 must be on world.

Crosshair's presence always commanded attention, his tall frame towering over the troopers as he moved with purpose and precision. It wasn't the first time you had encountered him here, and each time, you found yourself captivated by his silent prowess and unwavering focus. 

As he lined up his first shot, you couldn't help but admire the way he handled his weapon with ease, his movements fluid and controlled. Despite his stoic demeanor, there was an undeniable magnetism about him, an irresistible pull that drew you in like a moth to a flame. The interactions you’d had over the last number of months had always left you wanting more; you were sure of an incredible depth and complexity beneath his icy exterior, and the few quips and jabs you’d traded in the mess hall as well as the firing range had only served to fuel your interest.

The presence of other troopers always kept his walls up, though. You noticed the way he’d walk -- steady and focused, unaffected by anything around him. His gaze was steely and his affect flat, save for the few glances you’d shared where you could swear there was an imperceptible softening in his sharp eyes.

"Nice shooting," you called out as he completed the course, a genuine smile playing at your lips. "You make it look easy." 

Crosshair grunted in response, but there was a flicker of something in his amber eyes, a hint of appreciation for your words. It wasn't often that he received praise, and you could tell it meant more to him than he let on.

"It is easy," he replied gruffly, his lips hinting at a smile. "You ever shoot anything in here, or do you just stand around and look pretty?”

You chuckled at his comment, feeling a warmth spread through you at the compliment. "I guess I just stick to what I’m best at," you replied, unable to hide the smile in your voice as you peered up at him. 

Crosshair's smirk grew, a rare display of emotion from the typically stoic sniper. "I guess," he conceded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “You want a lesson?”

The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken attraction simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and for a moment, it felt as though the world around you had fallen away.

“I suppose a little extra preparation couldn’t hurt,” you attempted, casting one last glance down the range to ensure that everyone was alright on their own for now before stepping into one of the stalls. 

Crosshair stepped in behind you, slipping a basic blaster into your hands and nodding down the alley, where the targets had begun to move and shuffle around one another in their predictable way. You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling wildly self-conscious, as though you’d never handled a weapon in your life. 

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” you confessed. 

“Performance anxiety getting to you?” he teased, stepping closer so his chest was pressed against your back. He reached around your shoulders, easy for him from his height, and fitted his hands around yours where they rested on the blaster. Your heart skipped a beat at his proximity, suddenly swimming in this scent and closeness and presence. Almost automatically, you found yourself nestling into his embrace, completely and totally unaware of everything else going on. You heard him inhale behind you, then he quickly compensated by leveling the blaster at the first target. “Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

You sighed, bringing yourself back to the task at hand and raising the blaster to your eye, squinting to get a good aim and waiting to get the timing right. You watched the rhythm of the targets, memorizing the track and speed of each, then squeezed off a few shots, hitting some of them but not all. A self-effacing little chuckle fell from your lips as you set the blaster down on the tray in front of you, stepping to the side to look at Crosshair sheepishly. 

“You make me nervous,” you admitted, seeking an excuse but realizing it was more of a confession. 

“So sorry,” he crooned, stepping a bit closer and brushing a strand of hair back from your face. You sucked in a sharp breath, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the gesture.

"You've been watching me," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "I've noticed."

Heat flooded your cheeks at the realization that he had been aware of your gaze all along. "I... I have," you confessed, meeting his gaze with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “Sorry. You’re just really good at what you do.”

“Mmm. Is that it?” he prodded, moving his hand to brush your cheek with the backs of gently-curled fingers. 

“Geez, Crosshair,” you breathed, eyes dropping to his chest as your heart pounded in your chest. You were utterly speechless, simultaneously frozen in place and yet fighting every urge in your body to reach out and touch him, pull him hard against you. 

“Maybe a lesson of a different sort,” he suggested, a gleam in his luminous eyes that made your knees weak. Before you could respond, he leaned closer, gaze flickering down to your lips and back, hesitating for a second as though waiting for you to pull away. But you were drawn in, moving without your permission, reaching up to bring your face to his as your hand snuck around the back of his neck.

And then he was kissing you. It was gentle at first, hesitant and questioning, then slowly grew firmer as he took one more step closer, cupping your face with two strong hands. Your eyes were closed so tightly that you thought you may have been dreaming, trying so hard to commit every single detail to memory, from the shocking softness of his lips to the intoxicating sensation of his frame curled around your own. Pulling back, he met your gaze once more, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Not bad," he remarked, his tone teasing. "But I think it could use some further practice."

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful arrogance, the tension between you dissipating like smoke in the wind. Lingering for a moment, you cupped his cheek before stepping back, resting a hand on his chest for a second and then dropping it to your side. 

“Anything for the Republic,” you said with a cheesy salute, cringing immediately at your own attempt at humor.

He slipped a toothpick into his mouth, flicking it into one corner as touched your chin with some lightly curled fingers before giving you a wink and sauntering away, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded. 

“If you’re done making out with the weirdo, can I get a reset on the lane over here?” a clone voice called out, evoking a bright blush across your face as you rushed over to help him, ignoring the taunting grin on his face. 

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[wanderinginksplot]

What to watch during the writer's strike:

Don't pay attention to companies who blame writers for delayed movies and television shows! The WGA strike comes from people who are trying to make things better - not only for themselves and other writers, but the films and tv shows we all love.

While we wait for a resolution, I thought I would share some existing television shows that I enjoy. I didn't bother with too much well-known stuff. Instead, I focused on shows I feel many people missed because of the glut of content that all premiered at once over the last few years. (I may make another one of these for movies later on, but this one is about tv.)

[Update: Movie version here]

Feel free to add on! Just try to give a quick, spoiler-free synopsis for the show and the streaming service where it can be found.

List under the cut!

Netflix:

The Good Place (2016-2020) - A 'bad' woman is accidentally sent to heaven. She and her moral philosophy professor of a soulmate try to save her soul by making her a better person. Genre: Comedy with deeper implications and one of the best endings in television history.

Russian Doll (2019-2022) - When Nadia dies at her birthday party, she's more than a little confused to come back. Especially when it keeps happening. Genre: Time loop drama with a wicked sense of humor and a dash of theoretical physics. Potentially not ended?

Narcos (2015-2017) - The fight of the American DEA and the Colombian army against cocaine kingpin Pablo Escobar and his reign of terror. Genre: Drama with thrilling elements. Lots of violence, some sex and language. Lots of subtitles. Features Pedro Pascal and Boyd Holbrook, if you need some extra incentive.

Derry Girls (2018-2022) - Five teens grow up in Derry, Ireland in the 1990s, amid the final years of the Troubles, a low-level war that lasted roughly 30 years. Genre: Comedy. Some sexual content, some religious content, less violence than you would expect, and the best nun ever to appear on film.

Arcane (2021-?) - Two sisters are alienated when one accidentally kills their adoptive father. Their different paths threaten the fragile peace of a city already on the breaking point. Genre: Drama with elements of action-adventure. Though it's animated, Arcane's animation is beautifully done with tantalizing steampunk elements that will keep you invested.

Disney+:

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008-2020) - If you haven't seen any of the Star Wars animated series, this is a good place to start. Set in the time gap between Episode II and Episode III, this series helps flesh out Anakin Skywalker and the Jedi. It is also a great introduction to some of the characters and plots of The Mandalorian. (Star Wars: Rebels is another good choice.) Genre: Adventure with some drama. Violence and death are a large part of The Clone Wars, but it's usually appropriate for children. The clone troopers will steal your heart!

Gravity Falls (2012-2016) - Dipper Pines and his sister Mabel are sent to Gravity Falls, Oregon to live with their great-uncle for their summer break. But when Dipper finds a mysterious book in the woods, the pair find that Gravity Falls is far more mysterious than it seems... Genre: Adventure with a lot of comedy. Though it's billed as a children's cartoon, Gravity Falls is an intriguing watch with mystery subplots that will keep anyone guessing. It also features a famously strong and cohesive series ending. I was in my late 20s when I first watched this and I was still invested!

Daredevil (2015-2018) - After being blinded as a young boy, Matthew Murdock trained his other senses to replace the sight that he lost. He uses his skills to protect the helpless in the New York City neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen. Genre: Action and superhero. Features a lot of incredibly choreographed violence. (Jessica Jones is also an excellent show to watch, especially if you think of David Tennant as the consummate 'good guy'. He's got range!)

HBO Max (Just 'Max' now, I guess):

Ghosts (2019-2023) - Petty roommate squabbles don't stop just because you're dead! Alison and her husband Mike inherit a house, then a near-death experience allows Alison to see its ghostly inhabitants. Chaos and humor ensue as the ghosts try to adjust to the house's new owners. Genre: Humor. Ghosts is a British sitcom, but since the writers are comedians (writing and performing in Horrible Histories), the show is done in a style that feels more natural to American viewers. Hint: watch the BBC version, not the American one. They're fairly similar, but definitely not the same!

Pushing Daisies (2007-2009) - A pie-maker with the ability to bring back the dead helps to solve murders. He's helped by his once-dead childhood sweetheart. Genre: Comedy with some dramatic elements. Some of the CGI-heavy moments haven't aged particularly well, but the show has a unique premise and an incredibly talented cast!

Hulu:

Abbott Elementary (2021-?) - This mockumentary series showcases an inner-city elementary school in Philadelphia. The teachers and administration do their best for the kids, but they're constrained by budgets and the limitations of the educational system itself. Genre: Comedy mockumentary. Though Abbott Elementary is fictional, some of the issues brought up are all too real. This is a funny and incisive look at the American public school system.

Amazon Prime:

Fleabag (2016-2019) - The unnamed protagonist of the show struggles through life on her own with limited support from her alienated family and the memories of her recently deceased best friend. Genre: Comedy with lots of dramatic elements. Lots of sexual content and references, some language, breaking the fourth-wall, and several characters you just long to hit. I watched the second season in a single day, that's how good this was.

Unknown Streaming Service:

Black Sails (2014-2017) - This prequel to Treasure Island features elements from the book, original characters, and real pirates from history in a setting that emphasizes realism. Captain Flint and his crew search for a legendary prize... one that might allow them to claim Nassau for their own. Genre: Action and adventure. Think Game of Thrones, but with pirates. Incredibly well-written and well-acted with gorgeous scenery, LGBTQ representation, and just enough historical accuracy to keep things grounded. Black Sails also boasts one of the best endings ever given for a television show.

Like I said, please feel free to reblog and add your own television show recommendations onto this list! There are plenty of things to watch and plenty of ways to support the WGA strike that don't involve giving in to big studios.

#the good place #russian doll #narcos #derry girls #arcane #star wars the clone wars #star wars rebels #gravity falls #daredevil #ghosts #bbc ghosts #pushing daisies #abbott elementary #fleabag #black sails #television #television show #tv shows #tv recommendations #wga strike #recommendations #ink's life

[simpinformonkies]

Can I request a Redson x Calm!S/O reader, who's his partner in crime and a powerful earthbender (cause they keep him grounded) please and thanks.

Sorry this made me laugh so hard when I first saw this ask, the joke broke my sense of humor im so sorry. Anyway, here ya go!~

~~~

RED SON

-The first time he met you all those years ago, he thought you were just some weakling human that decided to piss him off, but you just raised a brow at his behavior and slammed your heel on the dirt, slamming a pillar of stone and dirt into his gut and sending the Demon Bull Prince flying off.

-Oh, he was furious at the audacity.

-But just as much, Red Son was interested; humans don't just control an element as well as you do. It was like the earth itself was your sandbox that you did whatever you wanted with; be that helping people, growing plants, or destroying his Bull Clones.

-After a while though, people just kept demanding things of you, and you just... kind of got tired of it. So what'd you do?

-Why, go to Red Son and ask for a partnership of course!

-Why? You have no idea; you just hated being demanded things of by people that don't even respect you.

-Red Son at least respected your power, even if he also hated you.

-Baby steps people, baby steps.

-So you commit crimes with Red Son, being like that silent soldier in the background that the heroes never notice until its too late and you're already attacking them. You always had Red Son's back, and stopped the worst of his injuries from happening.

-Especially from MK. Sweet kid, but a little much sometimes.

-Ya know that meme of 'the demon lord having a sweet tiny spouse, but the spouse being scarier'? Yeah, you're much scarier than Red Son is, because while he's always angry and yelling, you're sweet and kind that can flip on a dime if the right buttons are pressed.

-Anyway, you're Red Son's "rock" essentially, being there for him through thick and thin. This means you're very close to him and following him every day (or, alternatively, he's always following you, even around the council but acting like he's the one guiding you. His mother thinks its adorable.)

-After confessing to each other (in which Red Son acted like a total tsundere the entire time, let's be honest), you constantly do little stuff with your earthbending to show how much you love that. Whether that be making statue of a heart on 'fire', or doing little stuff to make him happy or his workload easier.

-Housespouse™

-Red Son often gives you gifts that mainly consist of gems (as a homage to your element of earth) and always does romantic things with you while attempting to act nonchalant or cool.

-Keyword being attempting.

~~~ BONUS:

-Your 'scary' side came out when Azure and his goons attacked the Demon Bull Family, attempting to seal away the others. You send shards of earth flying at Peng, aiming for his wings (and hitting them in quick succession) before earthbending binds and pillars at Azure in hopes of defeating him.

-Unfortunately, you forgot Yellow Tusk exists, and he bound you with magic, and then you were sealed in the scroll of memory.

-(And if that happened to make Red Son so angry that his flames sparked a brilliant blue, then only he and the brotherhood would know such secrets.)

~~~

Hope you enjoyed this!~

#lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #nilo dabbles #writing prompt #writing requests #red son x reader #Nilo art