#And I've given Hunter one

[starskulls]

The owl house and pokemon works so well as a crossover actually... Luz would of course be the main character. Two side friend characters are of course Gus and Willow. Amity is the rival. Hunter is the edgy side character who is also kind of a rival (like Bede and Gladion). Eda and Lillith could both be professors, whilst the coven leaders are gym leaders. The team could just be team emperor, or team gold, something like that, and of course the main antagonist is Belos. Side characters, like Vee Mattholomule Boscha etc, could have a more important role too idk

I can't stop thinking about this so I'm sure ideas will come around soon enough

Also, it'd be set in Paldea just to keep the dex updated or something (plus there's a school. That can be Hexside)

[echosong971]

On The Nature Of Light

“The Light...well, it's a funny thing.

It's unique to each Guardian, the draw of their Light. No two energies are the same. That's why I could pick my brother out from a sea of Stormcallers if I really wanted to show off. I know the crackle of his Arc and the buzz of his Light like I know the weight of his presence, the shape in which he takes up space—it's a signature so electric and so uniquely him. I know it so well that it surprises me when people don't notice him.

But apparently, there's even more to this story. Somethin' I just found out.

See, you spend time with someone for long enough, be intimate with them long enough, and somethin' real funny happens with your Light:

It leaves traces. Imprints.

I go up to my partner and I can feel it. Within the smolderin' furnace of Solar Light radiating from his body, I sense it. It curls through his systems and courses through his mechanical body—a slithering line of Void tanglin' with his Light. It's small, yet its draw is strong. Potent. Heavy. I can feel its presence in my chest like how I feel the snap of a tether when it breaks; it's intrinsic and second-nature, as natural as breathing. I can feel the way his flames interact with it. Instead of swallowin' it, they merely embrace it, envelop it, accept it as if it were one with him.

I found myself wonderin' if he feels it too, that piece of me within him. I wonder if he can feel the mark I've left on what is the closest thing to a soul we have.

Then, I wonder if he's marked me.

I found that if I close my eyes and focus real hard, I can sense it. I can sense the roaring flame within the empty expanse of my Void Light, flickering so brightly within the abyss, refusing to be devoured. Yet the gaping darkness merely cradles it, holds it, kindles it so that it burns for the rest of time.

I can feel the spark of his Light burnin' bright in my chest, warming me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I feel the imprint he's left on me, the piece of him I carry with me everywhere I go.

I feel the marks our Lights have left on each other.

And I smile.”

- from the journals of Echo-3

[youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat]

me: in front of my computer with the intention of writing

me: but what sort of PCs would these characters make if they were playing DND??

[alteredphoenix]

Every time I play with the idea of writing a Star Wars fic (and it's not something I'm opposed to, it's what happens when you get an OTP), I have to ask myself how would I maintain its identity if it isn't Jedi-centric or involves the Mandalorian Empire or...pretty much any part of the SW universe that doesn't heavy focus on the Light Side and the Dark Side that's come part and parcel with the Skywalker drama bullshit that Disney will probably never move on from because Nostalgia Means Big Bucks! that's so prevalent in all three trilogies. And for me it feels like: if I were to write a fic that doesn't include any of that, then would the setting still feel like Star Wars and not Another Cookie Cutter Sci-Fi Story?

I know it's kind of possible to not put a big focus on the Force and everything that ties into it (I believe Andor is more down to earth than, say, The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett), but at the same time I feel like the mysticism has so much weight in the series that taking it out of the picture (or at least not making it the big central thing in a story) just makes any story that wants to be more grounded would be like ripping its soul out.

[kykyonthemoon]

How to babysit a wounded little Hunter

Injured after a mission, you now indulge yourself in his special tender loving care.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader fanfic,

including Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, early stage of established relationship

A little heads up: The writer will not take responsibility for any side effect (such as toothache) that might come after reading the fic.

ಇ. Word count: 4k

ಇ. Requested by Wytchie Pie and x

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

You dimly sensed footsteps in the bedroom, and then one side of the bed sank. The acquainted scent and warmth embraced you. A cool hand rested on your forehead. In an instant, the heat in your body subsided.

So as soon as that hand was gone, you seized it.

"Don't go…"

You mumbled in a daze. There was a quiet laugh close to your ear, and then that palm brushed against your forehead again.

"If you don't let go, how can I take your temperature then, pipsqueak?"

You recognized that voice. It was Caleb's. So you acted even more aggressively. You yanked his hand tighter, so much so that his entire body appeared to collapse into the bed, just a little above yours.

"Huh? Aren't you a little too strong for someone who is sick?" Caleb laughed again. The sort of laughter that made you feel considerably better.

"I'm not sick." You were persistent, still. "Just feeling a little sleepy."

Caleb's hand tried to pull away from you. But perhaps he kept it that way on purpose, since given your current state, he would have no problem withdrawing if he truly wanted you to let go.

Caleb's hand patted you a little tenderly. He managed to grab the thermometer with his free hand. He took your temperature, then exclaimed: 

"Almost forty Celsius!"

You exhaled heavily, almost a moan. Every part of you felt irritated and heated. Despite this, you dismissed it, saying:

"I'm not... sick..."

Caleb used the chance to release his wrist from you. You opened your eyes slightly and gave him a disappointed expression.

"You have such a high fever, yet still saying you're not sick?" Caleb mumbled, but you caught every word. He handed you medicine, but you did not take it.

"Too bitter." You said.

"Quit whining. "Just take it and go to sleep."

"If I take it… you'll have to stay here with me, okay?"

Caleb sighed. "Only until you sleep, pipsqueak."

You smiled faintly and fast to accept the pills from Caleb's hand. You clutched his hand securely as you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the Wanderers, the escapes, and the secrets in which you were a part of. Then, when you woke up again, you noticed Caleb seated beside the bed.

“You're awake now, pipsqueak?” He smiled at you. He was rather relieved. He put a hand on your forehead again. “Yup. No more fever."

Caleb's presence seemed to chase the nightmares away. You removed his hand from your forehead and held it tightly.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

"Let's see…" Caleb brushed his chin. "When you arrived home last night, you went to bed right away. You got a high temperature around early morning. From the time you took the medicine and fell asleep until now, I've finished a whole movie, cooked a delicious pot of porridge, and measured your temperature three times."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Caleb laughed. He squeezed your hand once. "You've just been asleep for a few hours. But it is past noon now. Are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked again. "I made a super delicious pork rib porridge for you though."

You opened your eyes wide and looked at him. Pork rib porridge was a dish he would often cook when you were sick and no longer in a mood to eat anything. That dish always helped you feel better, even just hearing about it was enough to make you crave food again.

"Pork rib porridge…"

You could only whisper that much when Caleb pressed the tip of your nose and said:

“I knew right away that you couldn't resist food.”

A minute later, the room was filled with the aroma of a still-hot bowl of porridge. Caleb put it on a little tray over the bed. You lay back against the cushion, staring at the meal in front of you as if it were a rare delicacy, despite the fact that the ingredients were absolutely basic.

You looked over at Caleb. He was observing you. "What's wrong? Still no appetite?"

“It's too hot…” You pouted. “Besides,… both my arms and body are aching…”

It took a quite difficult mission in extreme weather, and a high fever to receive special care at your bedside. How could you not enjoy it?

Caleb read you right away. He said: “What? The Hunter in Linkon wants me to feed her? Weren't you delirious this morning, saying you had to go fight off Wanderers?”

“When did I say that? But it's okay if you don't help me. I don't want to eat anymore.”

“Are you still a three-year-old then?”

Even though he grumbled, Caleb still smiled very gently. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool down, then held it out to you.

You opened your mouth really wide, making him chuckle. When he saw that you were eating well, Caleb felt relieved. He teased:

"I thought you're a grown-up now and wouldn't need me to take care of you anymore."

You replied, still with a mouthful of pork rib porridge: "When you lose your cooking skills, I won't really need you anymore then."

Caleb laughed aloud. He patted your head and said: "I didn’t expect my vacation to turn into a part-time job for babysitting. If I catch a fever from you, you must take care of me in return.”

You rose up in a sudden and pressed your still-hot face into the crook of Caleb's neck, nearly dropping the porridge spoon.

“Then I’ll cook pork rib porridge for you. Just heads-up though, even if it tastes yucky, you must eat it all!”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

The door to the hospital room opened. Rafayel's curly purple hair appeared. And immediately, your phone lit up with a text message from Thomas:

[The little devil is coming for you. Sorry, I did my best.]

You exhaled. Clearly, he had not done his best. That was why Rafayel was here, staring at you with such a deep gaze from the entrance.

"Er… "Hello, Rafayel..." You waved your arm, attempting to greet him with a warm smile.

"Rafayel?" He frowned. "Do you still remember that we know each other?"

"Huh? Why did you...?" You left your sentence incomplete as Rafayel surged inside. He placed his hands on his hips, his expression filled with slanderous words as he accused you.

"Who are you? Do I know you? It's been eight hundred years. Jellyfishes are walkin' naked. Sea turtles climb trees. Sharks are eatin' grass for free! And finally, you remembered me?"

You frowned. Why was there something that rang so familiar with this scenario? Yet it was still off.

“Rafayel, I—”

“When are you going to tell me you're hurt?”

Rafayel pointed a finger directly to your shoulder, where the white bandage was visible through the hospital gown. That was the real reason he was precisely distressed.

“Even Thomas knew you were injured. Yet you didn't say a word to me?! You left me waiting alone for three hours at the exhibition. I can't believe you stood me up!”

You lifted your hand, intending to remind Rafayel to keep his voice down because you were both in the hospital. But he gave you no opportunity to speak.

"Do you realize how scared I was? When Thomas told me you couldn't come, I thought about all the things that could happen to you!”

"Rafayel…" You finally found a chance to interrupt him.  “Let's calm down first. I didn't mean to hide it from you, it's just... I haven't told you yet..."

Rafayel crossed his arms. He was still irritated.

“I can't believe it! You deliberately manipulated me with your innocence so that I would let you get away this time!”

You felt dizzy in the head, and your ears were ringing with Rafayel's nagging words and accusations. The injured one was you. Why did you feel as if you had just committed a great sin?

"ARGHHH!" You shouted and clutched your bandaged shoulder. "It hurts!"

Rafayel quickly forgot the rage in his heart. He moved right away to the bed and gently raised your arm. His eyes were full of concern and anxiety.

“Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor here right away!”

You grasped Rafayel's hand, urging him to stay with you.

“See? I'm still very strong. Just a little hurt."

"How much is a little?" Rafayel frowned. You could feel his hot glare on your shoulder, soaking into the bandage and searing your wound.

"… This much." You clasped your thumb and index finger to form a circle, then held it up for Rafayel to see. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I don't believe you anymore." He continued to speak with a condescending tone. "I have to check it out with my own eyes."

"Huh? What do you mean?…” You suddenly blushed. Rafayel looked at you with serious eyes, yet very sincere. He replied:

“Your wound. I want to see it."

The mere notion of Rafayel wanting to look behind your garments made your cheeks flame. You withdrew your hand and refused:

“I told you I'm fine… Don't make such a scene…”

“If I don't see it, how can I be sure you're not lying to me? This isn't the first time you've hidden your injuries..."

That was all Rafayel said. You gazed at him for a second. Aside from being concerned about you, he was also saddened since you had repeatedly hidden your wounds from him. A great deal when you did not want to bother him, he always found out and became much more frustrated.

"Alright then…"

Eventually, you had to give in. You turned your back to Rafayel and carefully slipped the shirt collar down your shoulder, displaying the neatly wrapped bandages around your torso.

You could see your reflection in the front window. Your face turned crimson. And Rafayel stood next to the bed, attentively investigating you, his fingers softly caressing the gauze, causing you to bow slightly in pain as well as anxiousness.

“Yet you said it was just a little wound.” Rafayel muttered. It was his hand that drew your collar back up. And the next thing you knew, you were upgraded to the best room at the hospital.

You weren't used to how wealthy people spent their money. You looked at Rafayel, who had constantly been by your side during your hospital stay. He requested you to remain in the most advanced hospital room, with the greatest level of care. More than that, he refused to leave your side even when you asked to be alone.

"You don't have to do this, Rafayel." You spoke as he was peeling the fruit for you.

"Open your mouth." He handed you a slice of mango. Even if your lips stated it wasn't required, you nevertheless welcomed all of his attention.

"I'm serious…" As soon as you finished swallowing the mango, he gave you another slice. "Really, um... This mango is truly delicious..."

"Do you crave anything else?" Rafayel purposely ignored every time you told him he didn't need to stay there all day and night to care for you. Your wound had improved significantly.

“I think I can be discharged from hospital and get back to work now…” You said. “I don't want to bother you anymore…”

"What's that?" Rafayel pretended not to hear you. “I think I heard the sound of abalone porridge just being delivered to the hospital. Let me go grab it.”

You sighed. Another expensive meal he had prepared for you. But you knew how much you would miss these things when you left the hospital at last and could no longer benefit from his tender loving care.

“Maybe I'll stay here one more day... You're spoiling me too much...” You muttered beneath your breath, but Rafayel overheard everything. He pinched your cheek and responded:

“You're staying because of the delicious food, not because of my devoted service? This is so heartbreaking! Then, after you've recovered, I'll make you repay everything. You have to work overtime as my bodyguard too!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You crept along the hospital's vacant rear door. You were just hospitalized in the afternoon due to an injury suffered while on job. Even though the doctor advised you to stay for additional examination, you believed the damage was minor. On top of that, the mission was not yet over. You needed to get back to headquarters.

Unfortunately, your escape did not go well. You ran into a familiar shoulder before you could complete the corridor.

"X-Xavier?" You became pale, but not because of the pain. It was only that you were astonished and a little ashamed when caught red-handed.

His look was incredibly complicated, ranging from apprehensive to serious and somewhat furious.

"Where are you going?" he inquired.

You didn't dare to reveal the truth, so you invented an excuse: "Ah... well... The hospital room is quite boring, so I decided to go for a stroll."

"From the back door?"

"Er… I heard the nurse say this is a quicker shortcut to the garden..."

Xavier gazed at you for some time. You clutched your hand tight, terrified that he would not believe that ridiculous excuse. Yet, Xavier nodded at you: "Then let's go together."

Before you could respond, Xavier grabbed your hand and led you outside. It was night time, the wind blew, sending you a slight chill. Xavier took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. That incredibly gentle gesture made you feel more guilty than ever for lying to him.

“Lead the way.” He told you shortly. For some reason, you had the impression that he was in extreme anger over you.

During the stroll, you didn't dare to speak, and Xavier did the same. He strolled close to you, as if keeping watch rather than walking together. You wandered about for a long time, but there was no trace of the hospital's garden anywhere. Xavier continued to follow your every step in such silence. Him being like that evoked even more guilt in your heart.

At last, you couldn't take it any longer and had to confess: "Xavier... Actually... The truth is, I don't know where the garden is..."

At that point, he spoke up and asked: "So why did you leave your hospital room?"

You didn't dare look into his eyes, so you just stammered an explanation: "Ah... My injury is nothing to be concerned about... That's why I... planned to return to headquarters..."

You noticed Xavier's hands clenching into fists. Fearing he'd be upset, you added: "The doctor also said my injury wasn't too serious— Ah!"

Xavier abruptly pulled your wrist, causing the wound on your arm to hurt. He read through your face which was miserable but still faking a smile. His voice turned sharp:

“If I hadn't caught you, would you really have sneaked away from the hospital?”

Your body convulsed in pain, but you were more concerned about Xavier's rage. You said, "I'm sorry... I was wrong... I'll return to the hospital room right now..."

"Good." Xavier responded curtly. Then he quickly leaned down and held you up in the attitude of a princess being carried.

"W-What are you doing, Xavier?"

"Let's take you back to the hospital room." His expression remained frigid, making you both terrified and embarrassed to be carried by him in such a manner.

Xavier did not return to the same path you had taken. Instead, he took you into the front entrance, where many people, including patients and hospital staff, could see you.

"Xavier? You... put me down! "They are looking at us!"

"I want them to see, so they know you intend to escape the hospital and will monitor you more closely."

Your cheeks became scarlet with humiliation. You swore you saw a kid pointing at you and chuckling, "Mom! I want to be carried like that princess, too!"

And you swore you saw Xavier smirking at that.

After an embarrassing journey, you finally arrived at your room. Xavier set you down on the bed. He chose to remain silent with you as punishment for your unsuccessful escape. You saw him sitting in the corner of the room, peeling a red apple for you.

“Xavier?”

You called out, but he didn't look at you and just replied curtly:

“Rest.”

“Are you angry with me?…”

Xavier's silence revealed the answer. You groaned and pulled the warm cover up high, as if to conceal yourself away from Xavier's rage, but he remained as quiet as a cloudless sky.

When he finished with the apple, he brought it over and gave you a slice. "Eat."

You did not enjoy this cold and distant demeanor of Xavier. If he was upset with you, he should have expressed it directly. You knew it was your fault, and he was so concerned about you that he got mad when you lied to him like that.

"Xavier, I'm sorry…" Your hands seized Xavier's wrist, which was clutching the apple slice. Your eyes widened as much as possible, even giving the impression that you were going to cry.

In the end, the ploy worked. His gaze had softened completely. He placed the plate of apples on the bed and used his other hand to elevate your chin a little. He said: "If you know your fault, then obediently eat all of these and rest."

His hand softly separated your lips, and his other hand inserted a slice of apple for you to eat. You were back in the sunshine, coaxing him to sit on the bed next to you.

"I'll give you three days to recover." Xavier spoke, his voice still agitated, but you could feel his boundless care and love.

"Then I shall bother you to watch over me for a few more days!"

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You had just returned to your private cabin at the icy mountain base when you heard a tap at the door. You answered the door, wondering who was seeking for you at this hour, and there was Doctor Zayne, holding a first-aid kit while standing outside.

“Zayne?” Your eyes caught the blood on his face and neck. Snow adhered to his dark hair. You took a step back and allowed him inside. "Why are you here?"

Your team had accepted the mission of rescuing people caught in an avalanche created by a group of Wanderers on the mountain. You had learnt that a team of physicians from Akso Hospital was also on their way. But you did not expect to see Zayne here.

Zayne set the first aid pack on the table and then turned to you. He went on to say: "I'm here to do my duty as a doctor."

You widened your eyes and inquired him again, "Your duty as a doctor?"

Zayne pointed to your abdomen, which was soaked from your own blood oozing through the gauze you had recklessly covered earlier.

"Oh dear…" You cried out. You were so engaged in battles that you didn't have time to look at your wound. Your head began spinning as a result of excessive blood loss.

Zayne's powerful arms directed and assisted you to the table. He put you to the wooden table and took a chair to sit in front of you.

"Doctor Zayne, what are you going to do?"

You noted this when you found his hand on the hem of your shirt. He seemed to want to lift it up.

"Treating you."

You knew that. But you were still extremely nervous when thinking that he was about to lift up your shirt. So your hand was still securely grasping his, preventing him from moving any further.

“I've already bandaged it. A nurse also helped me stitch up the wound earlier..."

During the turmoil, you recalled being stabbed in the abdomen. A nurse assisted you in stitching it up, but because there were so many others with more serious injuries, you let her tend to them while you put bandages over yourself and returned to the battlefield. Perhaps your clumsiness caused the wound to bleed a great deal more.

Zayne used his other hand to remove yours before pulling your shirt up. The gauze surrounding your abdomen was drenched in blood. He slowly withdrew it as you writhed in pain and embarrassment.

"Try to sit still for a bit, will you?"

Zayne's soothing voice burst out, calming you down a lot. You sat on the table, your hands lifting your body up while you looked down at the doctor who was treating your wound. The fact that you had to display your skin beneath his gaze made you uneasy and desire to cover your face. But Zayne was quite professional. He remained silent and entirely concentrated on his work. He cleansed the wound and applied a new layer of gauze. His warm breath occasionally wafted against your skin, causing you to tremble slightly. Even when his frigid fingers touched you, it seemed like you were being scorched.

"It's done."

Zayne said after fixing the new layer of gauze. You were a little discontent when his fingers left you. You were ready to pull your top back down when Zayne lightly rubbed his fingers against your abdomen.

“Ouch!” Even though the place he touched was not wounded, you were still startled and embarrassed.

“Just checking it again.” Zayne elaborated. He had you sitting on the table, your bandaged abdomen at his eye level. You could feel his stare through the gauze, pausing a bit too long in areas that were not covered by anything.

“Doctor Zayne… Are you done now?”

You attempted to keep your speech cool, but your crimson cheeks could have given you away. Zayne appeared to flash a little smile. You felt the icy sensation of his fingertip on your skin again as he slid it beneath the hem of your shirt, then pulled it back down.

"I am now." He answered while returning the supplies to the first aid kit. "Don't be so reckless next time. You have to care for yourself first before you can save others.”

"Hold on." You stopped him. You altered your position and stared into his eyes. "You always say so, but can you actually do what you say?"

Zayne tilted his head to look at you. You took advantage of the moment and raised his chin to have a better look. He had a minor cut on his forehead, and the blood on his body was most likely someone else's.

"You rushed here to take care of me, while you, yourself, are in this condition."

You spoke. His hand found your wrist.

"I barely got a few scrapes. Not as concerning as someone who rushed into the battlefield with a bleeding stomach."

"Whether the wound is big or small, it can be critical." You stated precisely what Dr. Zayne told you whenever he saw you injured, even if it was only a little cut.

Realizing that he had just tasted his own medicine, Zayne let out a small laugh. Then he tugged your hand, causing you to almost lean towards him. He gazed into your eyes for quite a while.

"So, my doctor, will you treat me?"

You blushed again. Zayne relinquished his hand, allowing you to properly wipe the blood off his face. You had to confess that you were a little awkward, owing to your unexpected closeness to Zayne in such a private and calm setting. He probably could hear your heart racing. He supported your hand which was holding a sterilized cotton pad and said:

"If you want to become a skilled doctor, in situations like this you must be even calmer."

"I'm not as professional as Dr. Zayne." You answered with a little caustic tone. "You were able to treat my wound so calmly just now."

Zayne gazed at you for an instant. His face remained calm, but his eyes were not.

"I'm a skilled doctor. Yet, it doesn’t imply that I wouldn't feel anything while treating the girl I like in such a... condition."

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: a lil bit of angst, a lil bit of fluff, a lil bit of suggestion

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

To say he was panicking would be an understatement. 

No, Eris had felt panicked when he had opened the door to his chambers and realized his mate was not there. But that panic turned to full-fledged terror when he had finally tracked down the two handmaidens he'd assigned her this morning and they both said they had no idea where his mate was. 

He stalked through the Forest Home---trying to appear calm and nonchalant despite what he felt. He didn't want anyone to catch wind of something being amiss. Not before he was able to find his mate and safely get her back to his chambers. Lucky for him, he'd been forced to wear a mask his whole life and this was no different. 

A bark from behind caused him to whirl around. Ashera came running from around the corner, ears flapping and tail wagging. That had to be a good sign. She yipped again when she caught up to him and gripped the edge of his cuff in her sharp teeth.

"Did you find her, Ash?" Eris asked, quietly. 

He was answered with a pull of her teeth. His shoulders loosened with relief and he let Ashera guide him to wherever it was that she had found his mate. He had given Ashera the order to find her the minute he realized she was missing and had gone the opposite way of her to cover more ground. 

A few moments later, he found himself in front of the doors to the library. Ashera let go of him and started to paw at the doors with a whine. He could hear two voices from behind the doors. His mate's and....

He grabbed both handles and yanked open the double doors, stalking inside. 

"And do you want to know what I said—" His brother, Finnegan, abruptly cut off his sentence when the sound of the doors slamming shut behind Eris and Ashera caught his attention. He looked up, smirking when he caught sight of his frazzled brother. 

Seated in front of his brother, a chessboard on the table between them, was his mate. She turned in her chair, eyes wide as she looked over with surprise until she recognized who was there. A soft smile bloomed on her beautiful face, her doe eyes lighting up. 

No one had ever looked at him like that when he entered rooms. Not even his own mother. No, he was usually met with either fear or disdain. But not from his mate... She should've been staring at him with disgust or contempt, especially after how he had treated her yesterday and especially after their argument this morning when he forbade her from leaving his room. Instead, she seemed happy to see him. 

Was she putting on a front for his brother?

"Eris!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat. "You're back. Oh, you won't believe the day I've had! Finn found me wandering around and—"

"Come here," Eris ordered, cutting her off. He held out his hand towards her. His brother's smirk grew as Eris glowered at him. His mate’s eyebrows rose in question but she thankfully listened to him, walking to his side and grasping his hand in her much smaller, much softer one. 

Ashera let out an excited yip and brushed up against her legs, causing his mate to smile down at her. Honestly, he should've known she was his mate the minute his hounds hadn't torn into her when she first appeared in Autumn that day. Should've known the second Ashera had pranced forward and tried to comfort her, for Gods' sake. His dogs were prime hunters, yet around her, they were reduced to nothing more than fluffy house pets it seemed. 

He remembered seeing her for the first time, her leg stuck in that bear trap. Despite the tears running down her face and her hair tangled with leaves and twigs, she was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. So soft and delicate. The opposite of everything he was. 

But the mating bond hadn’t truly snapped until the shadowsinger had shown up in the clearing that day and whisked her into his arms. She had looked straight at him and a golden thread had unwoven in his chest, causing him to stagger back just as they disappeared in a swirl of shadows. It had taken all of his will power not to immediately storm the Night Court if only to see her for a second more.

“Can I not have her for a few more minutes, brother?” Finn asked, tossing his arms behind his head and resting his head against them with a smug grin. “We’re nearly finished with our game.”

Eris sneered at his brother. “If I see you sniffing around her again, I’ll rip out your throat.”

“Eris!” His mate exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes. He ignored her, still glaring daggers at his brother who didn’t even flinch at the threat. 

“You’re lucky I stumbled upon her before father did,” Finn crooned. “I’d say you owe me one for allowing her the pleasure of my company.” 

“Well, consider me not ending you where you stand your one and only favor,” Eris retorted. His mate went to pull her hand from his but he gripped her tighter, finally looking down at her. “Come on, we’re leaving.” 

He stalked towards the library door, pulling her with him despite her soft protests. He didn’t say a word to her as he led her back to his chambers, not wanting any servants milling about to gossip if they heard anything. He only released her hand once they were safely in the living area of his quarters and behind the heavy wards set up. 

“Are you out of your mind?” She hissed at him, holding her hand to her chest. 

“Are you?” He bit back, flicking his hair out of his face. “I gave your strict orders to stay here while I was gone or with your handmaidens!”

“I am not something you can just keep under lock and key!”

“You’re not in the Night Court anymore, bunny,” Eris argued. “My father is nothing like Rhysand. The males outside these doors are nothing like those two wretched Illyrians. I can have you chained to my bed and no one would bat an eye, do you understand?”

“And is that what you’ll do if I don’t listen to you?” She retorted, crossing her arms. “Put me in chains?”

“No,” he snapped. “But I will lock you in here if I must. I’d rather you hate me than let anything happen to you.” 

“Then take me out with you,” she protested. “Don’t leave me here!” 

Eris let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking down at his irritating, foolish, and completely and utterly bewitching mate. Her large eyes were hopeful, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. The mating bond was driving him absolutely wild. He wanted to shove her against the wall and rip that lip out of her teeth with his own. 

“Please,” she whispered. 

“Fine,” he growled. “But if I agree to take you out tomorrow afternoon, you will agree to stay inside my chambers unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand?”

Those sweet, alluring eyes turned callous in a matter of seconds.

“So, you intend to treat me like a dog? Like a pet?” she snapped, crossing her arms. “Actually, I take that back. You even treat your dogs better than that!” 

As if proving her point, Ashera jumped up on the couch, laid down and covered her face with her paw, as if she felt his mate’s exasperation. 

“Have you any idea what is at stake here?” he bit back. “I do not intend to treat you like a pet. I intend to keep you safe!”

“And you think by keeping me locked away, I’ll be safe? They all know where your chambers are, Eris. I’m no safer here than I am anywhere else in this manor!” 

“At least, I’ll know where you are! Do you have any idea how worried I was when I went to find you earlier and you weren’t here?”

Her eyes widened and her arms fell limp at her sides. “You… you were worried?”

Eris tossed his arms in the air, letting out a noise of frustration. “Of course, I was worried. Do you know how many enemies I have in this court? Do you know how many people would wish to harm you if they had the chance just to hurt me?”

“I thought…” She paused, rubbing her arm.

Eris glared down at her. “You thought what? Go on, bunny, tell me what that little mind of yours thought?” 

“I thought you were mad! And can you blame me?” she huffed up at him. “You treat me like a nuisance, insult me any chance you get! Why the hell would I ever think you were worried about me? I’m sure you’d just be so over the moon if someone did get rid of me! Since I’m such a burden.” 

There were a lot of things in life Eris regretted but calling his mate a burden this morning was now on the top of that list. He hadn’t meant it. Of course, he hadn’t. She just didn’t understand the severity of the situation. He didn’t want to be mean to her or to have her hate him… but if it kept her safe, then so be it. At least, that had been his train of thought. But seeing the hurt on her face when those words had come out of his mouth had nearly killed him. 

“I’m sorry, okay,” Eris groaned. “I’m sorry I called you that. It’s not true. It was never true but bunny…you really don’t understand…”

“No, Eris, I do,” she snarled. “I’m not as stupid or naive as everyone likes to think I am!”

“Not naive?” Eris mocked. “Then what do you call galavanting around the Forest House with one of my own brothers?”

“Your brother was fine,” his mate replied. “He was perfectly polite. All he did was show me around a bit and then take me to the library as I requested.”

Eris scoffed. “You don’t know him like I do.” 

“You know what’s funny? That is the exact thing my sisters would say about me and yet they have no idea who I am. They’ve never let me be anything other than the girl they think I am. Have you thought that perhaps this competition your father has you all so convinced of between you guys doesn’t even exist? Have you ever even tried talking to one another without your father’s influence?” 

She wasn’t wrong but Eris knew how deep his father had his claws in his brothers. It would take a lot to shake them from his grasp. Time and effort he wasn’t afforded with at the moment. Not when he constantly had to look over his shoulder and now had to keep his mate safe at all times. This court was corrupt and dangerous—everyone here was in survival mode. 

These hypotheticals might be worth a discussion and if it were up to him, he would’ve taken his mother and younger brothers far away from his father a long time ago. But alas, he did not have such power…yet. But perhaps things could change. Though, nothing would so long as his father still sat on the Autumn throne. Until then, these sorts of conversations were not worth the time. 

“You speak on things you have no knowledge about and I see little point in having this conversation with you,” Eris said, straightening out his lapels. “I have a meeting I must attend with my father. Stay here.”

And then he left swiftly, before his mate could see just how much her words affected him, before he grabbed her and winnowed as far from this court as he could—consequences be damned. She drove him absolutely mad but Gods, did he find her so enticing. She was wild and impulsive and had a lot to learn, but the sort of honesty and hopeful outlook she had…Well he could only hope he could protect that, hoped he could keep her sweet and kind and soft and all the things no one had ever allowed him to be. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You had just woken up when your two handmaidens, Willow and Ivy, entered the room, pestering you to get up. Bleary eyed, you let them drag you into the bath before they sat you in front of the vanity. Ivy braided your hair while Willow dusted some light makeup on your face. 

“Can I ask what you are prepping me for?”

“Lord Eris has requested that we get you ready for an afternoon trek on horseback,” Ivy answered, with a slight smile on her face. 

Your eyes widened, taken aback. You hadn’t spoken to Eris since your fight yesterday. In fact, he had never even returned to his chambers last night. You didn’t try to leave, in fear that you would find the door locked and all your worries of the kind of male you were mated to would be proven true. Instead, you had pretended that a night in was just what you wanted, begrudgingly following his command. 

They dressed you in an off the shoulder linen chemise and flowy skirt that fell to your shins before lacing you into a burnt orange corset that had your lungs screaming for air. They slipped a pair of brown leather boots onto your feet.

“Surely trousers would be more appropriate?” you asked, spinning around so your skirt swished around the tops of your boots. Ivy and Willow gasped at your words, placing a hand over their hearts.

“A lady should never be seen in trousers,” Ivy declared, aghast.

Their shock was humorous to you, so you bit your lip to keep from laughing. Gods, the Autumn Court was so backwards sometimes. You were getting better at choosing your battles, so you said nothing else as they led you out of Eris’s chambers to the horse stables. 

Eris stood there next to another male who was preparing two horses. Your mouth dried a bit at the sight of him. He was wearing a loosely tied tunic, tucked into brown breeches and a pair of riding boots. His red hair glimmered in the sun like a ruby gem, his pale skin nearly glowing. He looked as if the Autumn forest made him itself.  

You hadn’t realized you had paused in your steps until your two handmaidens giggled next to you. 

“You are a very lucky female, Lady Y/n,” Ivy whispered to you with another giggle, causing your cheeks to turn pink. 

“Lord Eris is a very lucky male to have someone as lovely as Lady Y/n as his mate,” Willow countered, which only made your blush deepen. 

Eris noticed you as you drew closer and his eyes trailed over your form, heat swirling in them. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin under his gaze. His fox-like face was so beautiful, so enchanting, it was hard to look away. You kept eye contact with him as your handmaidens presented you. 

“Lady Archeron, as you requested, my Lord,” Willow said as she curtsied.  

“Thank you, ladies, you may continue on with the rest of your duties,” he said to them, though he didn’t stop looking at you which caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. The two girls sauntered off, their giggles heard until they rounded the corner. 

You wanted to be mad at him still, but this seemed like a sort of peace offering or apology for yesterday. One that you decided to accept. You walked forward until you were at his side, glancing at the large horses. 

“This is Marigold. She is our most well-mannered horse,” Eris said. “Go on, you can pet her. She won’t bite.” 

“I’ve never ridden a horse, my Lord,” you said, shyly, reaching out a hand to pet the one in front of you. 

Eris seemed surprised but made no comment on it. He simply turned to the stableboy and waved a hand at him. “One horse will do today, Landon.” 

“Oh, are you going to teach—”

You squeaked as Eris grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto the horse as if you weighed nothing, your cheeks turning bright red. A moment later, he lifted himself onto the horse, right behind you. The butterflies in your stomach were worked into a frenzy as his long legs encompassed you and your back was pressed against his firm chest. 

“Yes, bunny, I’m going to teach you,” Eris whispered, his breath dancing along the edge of your pointed ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice, as if he knew exactly the kind of reaction he was causing inside of you. 

“Is this not improper?” you asked. “Aren’t ladies supposed to sit with both their legs on one side?”

It had been a hard transition for you—to go from living in poverty in that tiny cottage to living in high society. You weren’t like your other sisters who had spent their childhood years being trained to be ladies. You could hardly remember any part of your life before your mother died. 

It was, perhaps, why you felt the closet to Feyre of all your sisters. Because she, too, was wild in a way that Elain and Nesta weren’t. 

“Something tells me you have no concern over how ladylike you are, bunny,” Eris chuckled, his hard chest rumbling against your back. Your cheeks flared up again and you tossed him a glare over your shoulder. 

“Everyone else seems so concerned about my virtue and image,” you hissed. 

“Well, I’m not,” Eris retorted. “Go on, grab the reins.” 

You hesitantly wrapped your fingers around the leather straps and nearly jolted in surprise as Eris’s placed his calloused hands on top of yours. He started to maneuver your fingers. “You want to keep your thumbs on top and your fingers closed around them.” 

Once he seemed satisfied, he tapped the horse on the side and she began her trot. You bit your lip as his hands slid off the reins and on to your thighs. “Relax your legs, bunny. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall off.” 

You hadn’t realized how much you were squeezing the poor horse until he lightly stroked your thighs, getting them to loosen before his hands slid to your waist instead.

"What do I do with these?” You asked, nodding towards the reins in your hands.  

“Nothing for now,” Eris answered. “You use them to steer or to get her to stop.”

His proximity to you and the tiny circles he absentmindedly rubbed on your waist with his thumbs caused your body to hyperfocus on all the places you were touching. You could hardly pay attention to his instructions and the more the two of you continued on, the more you found yourself relaxing into his chest—soaking in the heat that seemed to exude off his body. 

Once you seemed to get the hang on the basics, a soft silence fell between the two of you. The sounds of the forest came alive the deeper you traveled into the trees. It was truly beautiful out here. The red and orange leaves on the trees reminded you of the painting Feyre had done on your drawer on the dresser back when you were living in the cottage. 

“I’m sorry,” Eris whispered into your ear, breaking the silence and surprising you. “For yesterday.” 

You softened at his words. “It’s okay.”

“No,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening. “It wasn’t okay. It pained me to hear you say I think of you as a nuisance, as something to get rid of. It is simply not true, bunny and I’m sorry for ever making you believe I think that.”

Eris didn’t seem like the type of male to apologize for his actions, so it meant more to hear it from him. 

“I just wish you would stop trying to push me away. I’m tired of everyone always deciding what's best for me instead of trusting me to know it myself,” you sighed.

“I know and I’m sorry. I know how unseen you feel.” 

He seemed to see right through you. Was it the mating bond that allowed such a thing? Or was it just something you had in common? No one had ever looked closely at you. You were the baby of the family, never allowed to be involved in decisions or important things. You lived in your own world most of the time. 

Although Eris was brought up in a far different environment than you, you couldn’t help but think he felt the same way. That he was constricted and forced to play a role he had no wish to. That he was written off as arrogant and cruel simply because he was born under a male who was. 

But he was nothing like his father. 

“I know you do because I know you feel the same way, Eris,” you whispered, glancing back at him. “But I see you.” 

“Perhaps that scares me.” His amber eyes were still guarded as he looked down at you. “No one has ever looked before. No one has ever wanted to.” 

“I do,” you said, holding his gaze. “I want to.” 

It was silent for a moment and you twisted back around, staring at the forest ahead.

“You shouldn’t,” Eris said, so quietly, that you were certain he was talking to himself. But despite his words, a tension had been lifted between the two of you.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

A little while later and after several whines about her legs starting to hurt, Eris let his mate have a break. He helped her off Marigold and found a tree to tie the horse to so the two of them could walk for a bit. 

He kept a step behind her, watching as she spun in a circle, the leaves crunching beneath her boots, as she took in the forest. The wonder and excitement in her eyes caused a spark in his chest. Those things had long since been beaten out of him so it was nice to see them in someone he already cared so deeply about. 

Eris enjoyed being out here with her, away from the Forest House and everyone else. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he kept his guard up to protect his wonderfully oblivious mate from any harm that might come her way. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” his mate whispered.

The sunlight casted gold rays of light through the leaves, illuminating her beautiful face. She looked made for this kind of place, for Autumn. His chest ached at the sight—at what could be if his father wasn’t such a conniving bastard. 

“It is,” Eris said softly, his amber eyes still trained on his mate. She peeked over her shoulder at him, blushing as she met his gaze. Gods, if he were a lesser male, he’d have shoved her up against a tree and claimed her as his already. 

“Hey, I have an idea!”

“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled and she whirled around, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “Nothing. What is your idea, bunny?” 

“We should play a game,” she said. “Like hide and seek.” 

Eris snorted. “Hide and seek? What are we, children? I’m over five hundred years old, bunny, I’m not going to play games with you.” 

“Fine, suit yourself,” she shrugged. “But I guess that means you’ll have to return to the Forest House without me unless of course…you find me.”

And then she darted off into the trees, weaving her way out of his view. He expected to find himself irritated, but it was the opposite. He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped from his mouth at how ridiculous his mate was. Ridiculous and brash—but so endearing. 

“You can’t hide from me, bunny,” he shouted into the trees.

Silence met his ears and then…a twig snapped in the distance. He sauntered off in the direction of the noise. He would entertain her absurd game but he would not be running off like some wild beast through the forest. He followed her enticing scent of harvest apples and forest pine, twisting through the tall trees and leaf-covered ground. 

He saw a flash of her hair from the corner of his eye and spun in place, listening for her footsteps. He continued following after her, getting small glimpses of her here and there, hearing the tiny giggles that seemed to echo in the silent forest and he realized that a small smile had grown on his face as the game went on. 

Until things went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. He froze, sniffing the air. He could still smell her but where had she gone? He spun in place, looking for footprints and listening for any sounds but…nothing. His heart started to beat faster in his chest, suddenly worried she had run off too far. 

“Bunny,” he shouted. “You can come out now!” 

Nothing.

The smile on his face dropped and he continued his search. Had she ran into some creature that took her? Had his guard fallen so low that he hadn’t realized that someone else was out here? 

“Hey, bunny—fuck!”

Something ran straight into his back and wrapped their arms around his neck, making him stagger forward. He turned around and pinned them against the tree with a snarl so quickly he hadn’t even realized what exactly had knocked into him until he heard the familiar giggles and his mate’s scent washed over him. 

“Got you!”

She was staring up at him with wide, excited eyes—her face flushed from her exertion. He stared at her in disbelief, uncertain how she was able to sneak up and ambush him like that. The hand that had wrapped itself around her throat moved to rest on the tree next to her head.   

“And so the sly bunny ensnares the dumb fox,” she sang between her pants, her arms still around his neck, her back still pressed against the tree.

He let out a breath, staring down at her with a small glare. “That is not funny. I could’ve hurt you!” 

“But you didn’t,” she countered, not seeming concerned about it at all. “I’m surprised I was able to sneak behind you. I thought for sure you saw me at one point. You looked right at me!” 

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I was standing right there,” she laughed, pointing at a spot to their left. “And you looked right at me! I thought I was busted but I don’t know, Eris, you might be going blind with age.” 

Her eyes held amusement as she looked up at him but he was confused. He had no idea what she was talking about—he hadn’t seen her at all. She had not been standing there. She must’ve been mistaking those trees for another. 

“Very funny,” he said, deadpanned. 

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” she teased, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, absentmindedly. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. Her body pressed against his fought against the control he had. 

He wanted to knock the smug smile right off her face. He stepped closer, placing his free hand on her sternum and trapping her against the tree. He felt her breath hitch and grinned. 

“I’m not the loser,” he purred, before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You’re still ensnared by me, bunny. Not the other way around.” 

Being this close to her again reminded him of all the ways he would take her and he let out a heavy breath, trying to keep from getting hard and scaring her away. Her head was tilted back so she could stare at him, her smile slipping as her heart pounded loudly enough that he could hear it through her chest. It seemed to beat in rhythm was his. 

He was certain she was going to cave first. His other hand still rested against the tree next to her head, allowing her the chance to dip away if she wanted. Her cheeks turned pink and he was sure she was about to start stuttering like a girlish maiden as she usually did when she said something that absolutely surprised him.

“Maybe I want to be ensnared by you, Eris,” she whispered.

Heat spread through his body like a wildfire and he knew it exuded off of him by the way she melted into his touch, her eyes flickering down to his lips as she shuddered. She bit her lip and he growled, his hand moving up her sternum until it rested against her cheek. He plucked her lip free with his thumb and she met his gaze again—her eyes wide and innocent yet full of desire. He could feel her anticipation down the mating bond, which glowed like firelight between them, and he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. 

The mating bond sang in his chest.

Mine….Mine….Mine…

She glanced down at his lips again and the look she gave him was enough to snap the last string holding his composure. 

So he surged forward and passionately kissed her. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

One second you were thinking of how much you wished Eris would kiss you and the next second he was. His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and so warm. Your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed him back with the same fire and eagerness that had Eris groaning against your lips. The hand that was resting on your cheek moved to your neck and angled your head back farther so he could deepen the kiss.

One of your own hands slipped into his hair, tangling some red strands between your fingers as the butterflies in your stomach began their frenzy again. All thoughts seemed to cease at that moment. All you could feel was Eris’s body pressed against yours, his kiss so full of hunger that your knees almost buckled under the weight of it. 

Your other hand slipped down to grab onto the collar of his tunic and yank him closer. He growled and bit down on your bottom lip; you gasped at the slight pain. He used that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and his kiss turned crazed. 

Fire sparked under your skin, so hot it threatened to consume you. 

His hand slipped down to your thigh, yanking your leg up around his hip so he could press in closer to you—nailing you to the tree. The rough bark rubbed against your back, serving as a contrast to the softness of his lips on yours. 

He devoured you, kissed you in a way no one ever had before. You didn’t fight for dominance. Not when it felt this good to surrender yourself to him. Heat and wetness pooled in your core—the evidence of his own arousal pressed firmly against your stomach as his tongue continued to explore every crevice in your mouth, claiming it as his. 

Every inch of your skin was tingling as he pulled away and began to trail feverish kisses down your jaw and neck—giving you the chance to breathe for a moment. You whimpered as his canines nipped at the sensitive skin on your throat, marking you. 

“Do you know how much I think of this?” Eris groaned against your skin, his nose trailing up the column of your throat. “Of ravishing you like this.” 

“Y-you do?” You stuttered as his canines grazed your neck again—reminding you again that Eris was no human man. No, he was much more than that of a man. He wasn’t even a full High Lord yet and still, you could feel his power crackling around you like burning embers. 

“Oh, bunny,” Eris purred, pulling back to look at you with that fox-like grin that had your knees weak again. “I think of you like this—at my mercy—all the damn time.” 

He leaned down and kissed you again until your face was flushed, your lips swollen and your neck was full of love bites. The both of you were panting as he rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes staring down at you with flame licking his irises, full of hunger and lust and longing. 

You knew at that moment that you belonged to Eris because there was no way anyone else on this earth would make you feel as you did now. And you didn’t want there to be anyone else. No, your heart and mind sang for him and him only. No matter how things turned out, you knew they always would. It was scary and thrilling and daunting but it was true. 

And by the way he stared down at you, you knew he felt it too. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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[omaano]

Touchy subject

"The 501st was one of the best legions during the war. I've lost a lot of good men over the years - some of them would have given even you Mandos a run for your credits. And my general... My general was a good man too, but that's enough of that, I thought you were too old for bedtime stories by now."

Din just tried to figure out what the colour of the clones' armor paint meant, and why he's never heard Rex mention his CO during all the wartime stories and lectures; whereas he's already got to meet Wolffe and his general and even heard Cody mention his every once in a blue moon. (Special thanks to @witchydom for helping with the "dialogue" :3)

The rest of my Star Wars meets Hades AU project is here

I'll take a bit of your time to give a bit of an explanation why I decided to put Rex in Skelly's spot:

During a playthrough when I was looking for screenshots to use as backgrounds the first thing that greeted me was Zagreus calling Skelly "Captain" upon entering the armoury, or whatever that chamber is called. And that really decided it, let's be honest. Rex is Captain, and that is the Captain's spot. End of story.

Reading "still got it" by qigiined even before I got into watching TCW was such a personality defining experience (seriously, this fic lives forever rent free in my brain), that I really had no other option but to put the few clones that I'm willing to work into this AU somewhere around home base (the covert) - so you can guess where Cody and Wolffe are situated. Or will be, hopefully soon enough. Rex needs to be able to hang out with Cody, that's just how it is. (Rebels and TBB canon who?)

Rex deserves to teach some uppity Mando bounty hunters and other warriors who think too much of themselves a few lessons in humility and some crafty tricks. I think it would be very good for him.

As a throwaway note since we are already under the read more section, I've been thinking about sigils and keepsakes (trinkets) and cthonic companions (I know that over a year ago I inaccurately but very self indulgently designed one for Din, Boba and Cobb, that is not the point now) and while Cody can have one shaped like Boga, and Wolffe can obviously get a stuffed loth wolf (and Bo-Katan a very squishy owl)... I have no idea what shaped companion Rex could have. If anyone has any suggestions and would love to share it with me, I'd be very grateful!

[jpitha]

Hunting

It is unlikely that humans are the only predator species to achieve sapience in the galaxy.

In order to be a successful predator one has to be intelligent enough to learn your prey's movements and be able to think ahead to what they're going to do next but also be flexible enough in your thinking that you can improvise if the situation chances. If you don't have this elasticity, you won't be a very successful predator.

Humans are very successful predators.

****

Greg bent down low and spoke as quietly as he could to the worried Sefigan next to him. "I need you to stay as still as you can. I'm going to go around, and try and surprise the Gren guarding the exit."

The three Sefigans, caught between wanting to obey Greg and staying silent but also trying to communicate that they thought it was suicide to do so started shaking.

"No, no, it'll be fine. I've been watching him. He's not really paying attention." Greg stood silently and put one finger to his lips, then smiled.

Moving much quieter than one would think given his mass, Greg crept away, hunched down just a little to keep motion out of the tops of the bushes they used to hide. The Sefigans watched in horrified fascination as Greg would take a few steps and then freeze, not even breathing while he watched the Gren.

As he walked, he made no noise at all over the soft sand, his feet finding purchase slowly. The Sefigans, a small furry prey species from a rocky mountainous world felt very old fears from the most early parts of their brains while watching him hunt the Gren.

The Gren guard was panning slowly as he guarded the exit, his fur flat, his eyes dull and his mouthparts drooping. If one knew a bit about Gren physiology one could easily see that he was bored and tired. His shift wasn't due to end for another 3 demi-cycles and nothing usually ever happened on this exit.

When Greg was no more than 2 meters away, he reached down and picked up a stone, no larger than a comm badge. He raised his arm and in one silent fluid motion, tossed the stone high and far over his head, to hide its origin. It clattered against the wall on the far side of the pen, opposite to where Greg was standing. The noise and motion caught the Gren's eye and his whole body swung over to where the stone landed.

His back was turned to Greg.

Greg bent his legs low building energy and took two steps and lept onto the Gren's back. His higher mass bowled the taller but much lighter Gren over and the Gren's head hit the stone with a hollow thwack.

Greg jumped up off the Gren and checked him quickly. He was dead. Trotting quickly over to where the Sefigans were still hiding he motioned for them to follow.

Still terrified, they followed this... ambush predator they were scared of and by the time they reached him, he had gotten the comm out of the Gren's pack and was fiddling with a ring that had complicated studs all around it, fitting them against the door until one clicked and the door hissed open.

Minutes later they were all running across the desert to the canal below where they had hoped to cling to the side of a barge and float to the spaceport.

"Human Greg! Human Greg!" The smallest Sefigan called as they jogged down the sandy hill towards the canal.

"What is it Li? Can it wait?"

"That was amazing! I've never seen a human hunt before! Is that how they all do it?"

"Not really? Humans developed as persistence hunters, not ambush hunters, but as you well know, skills can be taught."

"Persistence hunter?"

"Yeah, my ancestors would pick an animal out of a herd and run after it. As long as we didn't overexert ourselves we could just... run until it died."

The three Sefigans looked at each other as they jogged. Greg wasn't breathing heavily as they went towards the canal, but all three of them were nearly at their limit and would need a long time to rest when they were safe.

"Human Greg, you scare us." The tallest Sefigan looked back at the holding compound and then back at Greg. "But, not as much as we were scared of what the Gren would have done to us."

Greg smiled showing his wide, large, white teeth. "In this world, sometimes you need to be scary." He looked at the canal. "Come on, the water isn't too cold, let's get in and swim towards that barge. It's not too far."

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I've always been captivated by them. Something about the shiny exterior, how they glimmer when you tumble them around in your hands. My younger self would obsess about them, a childlike fascination. Even back then I instinctively knew they had value. My mom would use pearls I found to pay for a safe passage at scavenger tolls. We tried to bypass those points as much as we could, but sometimes it was unavoidable."

"It's a looong story…. I was found roaming the wilderness by my mentor, who brought me to er, an entity, called an interator. Do you know of iterators? Apparently they are what was left of an ancient civilization that once inhabited these lands. I couldn't wrap my head around it at first. Iterators are massive, absolutely huge, like mountains. Do you see that big structure of a regular, smooth shape?"

[She points towards Five Pebble's can in the distance]

"That is an iterator's «superstrucute». A mountain, the entire thing… is a person. It still sounds crazy when I say it."

"Ah, right, my name… like I mentioned, I got lost and my mentor found me. He brought me to his iterator. If my memory serves me right, his name is «No Significant Harassment», or NSH for short. I recall thinking at that time, «Harassment? I hope he won't be cruel to me». I had no concept of iterator names, their meaning, why it's three or however many words long. It was incredibly confusing to my young mind, though looking back at it I consider myself very lucky. The iterator was, dare I say, «god-like» (his own words), but benevolent. I saw how well he treated Hunter – my mentor – and it made me trust him more, even though I was scared and wary in the beginning."

"Would you believe it if I told you… there are stories written inside the pearls? That those things I’ve been obsessing about all my life are used for storing information? I had many of them leftover from when I lived at a scavenger outpost. One cycle, NSH noticed my interest, and – I wish Hunter had told me about this sooner, but – the iterator shot at my head with something…? And suddenly I could understand everything he said. Not that he said much, because I started crying loudly and ran straight out of there, haha. But before I bolted, he gave me one of his pearls as consolation. I think he felt bad for the scared little me."

"After that, he would eagerly read all the pearls I brought to him. That is how I learned more about the culture of the peoples who were here before me: the Ancients, their customs, why the iterators were built, and much more. It was like the knowledge of the entire world was suddenly revealed to me – to a seemingly insignificant being, a tiny speck in an endless ocean of life. It both made me feel very important, and very small. And, yeah, it has intensified my obsession with pearls beyond mortal limits. What if I could write into a pearl? I could archive the history of my entire species! All the stories my mom told me when I was small? All the places I’ve been to? Or other scugs have been to…"

[Her eyes widen, sparkling with glee]

"Y-yeah… that would be nice… sadly I am what I am – a slugcat. I don’t know how to do this very advanced stuff at all. I have no means of doing this. I once asked NHS for help, but there’s only so much he could guess from my frantic signing. I don’t think he understood me, in the end. But he did appreciate my efforts, and I was given a title – the Pioneer, like a person who is the very first to explore something uncharted. Apparently no slugcat before me thought of reading from or writing into pearls? I find it a little hard to believe."

"This one! This is a very special kind of pearl – it contains an ancient poem from which my name originated. See, my name was a gift from NSH the iterator. It’s spelled: «Mirmyntasseth». The best way I would describe it, is… it’s a name for a feeling, or an experience. The way it was explained to me, is that the word «Mirmyntasseth» is an expression of seeing a marble roll on a flat surface, then hitting another marble. Ah, right, you may not know this – a marble is like, like a pearl, but translucent and even more ornate. I was told that marbles were used by the Ancients for entertainment. They had a game where you rolled one to hit another. I'll admit, I can see the appeal. Throwing rocks is fun, although I image this game was considered a more dignified pastime."

[She tumbles the dark pearl in her hands, admiring its luster]

"The poem inside this pearl, one of its verses spells: «Eight Marbles Cast in Stone». The poem itself is long… very long… I had the iterator read it to me once, and we had to stop in the middle because the rain was coming. Maybe I will ask NSH to read it again, when I’m back at his superstructure with Hunter."

[Her gaze trails off to somewhere far away for a moment, a subtle grimace on her face. She closes her eyes and shakes off the thoughts that cloud her mind]

"So, um… yes… that is why I am called Eight Marbles Cast in Stone, or Marbles for short. I like how it sounds, it has a nice ring to it. And it’s a gift from an iterator, a god-like being. I consider it a great honor."

"…that said, I wonder why he didn’t just name me «Pearl»? Wouldn’t that make more sense? Maybe it didn’t sound cool enough. They’ve used pearls just to store information. I guess it’d be silly to be named «Dirt» because you doodle in dirt, or «Batfly» because you love eating batflies? Hmm…"

[merchantziro]

DP x DC Writing Prompt: Watchtower Technician/Engineer Danny Fenton and Justice League member Dani Phantom

It's been a few years now since Danny Fenton had become the Ghost King. Since then, he's been working hard to maintain peaceful relations with the Living Realm and had found a system to keep his rouge's gallery from being too destructive while still satisfying their obsessions and such.

After that, he decided to semi-officially retire as a hero since he didn't need to protect Amity from his subjects anymore. Choosing to focus on balancing his human life and career, and his duties as the ruler of entire dimension of spirits.

While Danny knew he could never be an astronaut with his "condition", he was able to find a substitute that also managed to satisfy his protection obsession without needing to become a hero again.

Danny Fenton had chosen become an engineer/technician on the Justice League's Watchtower. Which, after a lengthy background check to make sure he wasn't joining as a cover for anything malicious, was ultimately given the green light since Zeta Tube transport was deemed much safer for his "condition".

Meanwhile, the Justice League had finally found a recruit they were interested in for the past few years now since information about him spread to the hero and supernatural communities. Namely, one 14 year old looking ghost named Danny Phantom. However when they did manage to finally track him down, they instead found what looked to be a now 14 year old ghost looking girl calling herself Dani Phantom who looked to be a match for their information on Phantom.

So cue the League coming to the (completely incorrect) conclusion that this must be the hero they're looking for (though he seemed to have become a she, so congrats to her) and don't say anything.

Basically shenanigans with retired Danny Fenton working on the watchtower in peace while Dani Phantom joins the Justice League after they mistake her for a transgender Danny Phantom.

I'm imagining this going in one of several different routes with some potential overlap.

- Both recognize a ghost is nearby (each other) but the League, upon realizing that Danny Fenton comes from a family of Ghost Hunters that span back to 1600s with Jack Fentonightingale, thus assuming it's best to keep Danny oblivious to Dani's existence but they can't keep each other oblivious forever.

- The Watchtower is under attack by some villains and Danny finds a heavily injured Dani among other heroes. As such Danny becomes angered enough to temporarily bring his old hero persona out of the closet (possibly going as far as showing his Ghost King power depending on the villain). Meanwhile the rest of the Justice League are losing their minds over the revelation of them working with the hero's cousin/daughter/clone instead of the original they thought they were working with this entire time.

- One of the supernaturally powerful JL members (John Constantine, Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Shazam, take your pick) recognize that the new employee radiates the same ghostly power as Dani, only stronger before recognizing him as the Ghost King.

- Dani and Danny meet and have their Spider-Man pointing meme moment before nigh-immediately realizing that the League have mistaken Dani for Danny. Thus they immediately realize after that realization they can use this to completely mess with them since they're still unaware.

Probably more ideas but I'll leave that for you to imagine.

I've seen Danny working on the watchtower, both as Fenton for a casual position and as Phantom as a League member. So why not both at the same time only it's Dani Phantom and not Danny.

[jetii]

Home is a Place on Coruscant

Pairing: Captain Rex x fem!Reader

Words: 10,705

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, discussion of grief/death, some description of blood/injuries, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk, a little brat taming, oral sex (m and f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism but not really

Summary: You've always been there for Rex, and when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night after a devastating mission, you do what you do best: take care of him.

A/N: The start of this fic has been sitting in my notes app since the TCW season finale many moons ago, and it wasn't until I read this drabble by @djarrex that I felt compelled to actually finish it. Rex is my fav and he deserves to be taken care of.

It's been about a decade since I've published a fic and about a decade since I've been active on tumblr, so I decided to start from scratch with this blog. Feedback is very much appreciated! I have a few more drafts in the works for Echo, Howzer, Kix, Tech, and Hunter that I'm planning to publish depending on the reception to this one.

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Rain on Coruscant was rare. But when it came, it came in torrents, and it came all at once.

In the early hours of morning, while the planet was still sleeping, the sky opened up and let loose a downpour that threatened to flood the lower levels. It was so heavy, it even drowned out the traffic noise coming from the speeders that were still flying over the city at the early hour. The noise was soothing, almost like a lullaby, and the sound of it woke you.

You were used to this sound. You were used to it, because you were used to not being able to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. It was one of the many things about living in the Jewel of the Core Worlds that was taking you longer than you would have liked to adjust to.

The traffic noise, the bustle, the crowds—it all made your homeworld of Rion seem very far away. You could never hear anything over the speeder traffic here, and you likely would've gone mad long ago if not for the trickling of the fountain you kept in the main room. It had been your mother's. You were glad it had come with you when you moved.

The rain was heavy enough that you could hear it inside the apartment, a pleasant hum against the transparisteel. You sat in the window seat, arms folded around your knees, watching the rain fall. The view from your window was not the best in the Galactic City, but it was still quite good, and at night it was beautiful, all the lights of the skyscrapers blurring together in the rain.

The rain would be good for the plants.

You had a garden, a modest one. Some of the plants were native to your world. A few were native to Coruscant. Most were from other worlds. They were your pride and joy. Caring for them had given you something to do when you were adjusting to your new life here. You watered and pruned and tended to them all, and in the spring you were rewarded for your efforts.

Rex had been baffled, at first, by the sight of you out in the courtyard behind the complex, on your knees in the dirt, digging and weeding. It was a little piece of nature on a planet that didn't have much, and Rex was amazed that someone could take so much joy in something so… natural. It was nothing like what he'd been raised to appreciate, which was a good vantage point, a well-maintained blaster, and a plan.

When he'd told you as much, you had invited him to kneel down beside you, and, hesitantly, he'd done so. You handed him a spade and pointed to a patch of soil.

"See that little green leaf poking up?" you asked, and Rex followed your gaze. "See it?"

"I see it."

"Plant the spade right under it. When you pull it up, the root will come with it."

"Like this?" Rex had pulled the spade up, and a plant had come with it. He examined it, then tossed it aside, into the compost.

"That's perfect. That's just how you're supposed to do it. See, you're a natural."

Rex smiled, pleased with the praise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now, let's get the rest of these weeds."

You'd worked in the garden until the sun was setting. Your hands had been dirty, and you had been smiling, and Rex had thought you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He would probably never tell you as much. He'd been trying to think of ways to tell you, and nothing seemed good enough. There was nothing good enough for you. So instead he told you about the missions he went on. And you listened. You always listened.

You wondered if Rex had heard the rain start. You wondered if it was keeping him awake, too. You wanted him to sleep. He was always so tired, and the last thing you wanted was for him to be exhausted when he came home from his mission.

If he came home.

It was an irrational thought. The missions were dangerous, yes, but the 501st had some of the best soldiers in the galaxy. And Rex was a good captain. A good leader.

But there was always the possibility. The risk.

You were intimately acquainted with the feeling of waiting for someone, and the way it tore you apart. It was a risk, being this close to Rex and the other clones of the 501st. It was a risk, feeling the way you did.

It was a risk, but you did anyway.

You look out at the rain, and the speeders that still flew through it. You wonder how they could fly through the storm, and not be afraid.

You're just about to turn away from the window when a noise behind you makes you jump. There, underneath the sound of the rain battering against the transparisteel, the sound of a knock at your door. You almost don’t think it is real, that it's simply a part of the soundscape of the rainy morning, but it comes again, three short raps.

You slide out of bed, fumbling to grab the clothes you tossed on the floor the night before. You don't bother to put on pants, but pull a long shirt over your head and tiptoe to the door, peering through the peephole.

The rain is heavier now, and the clouds are dark, almost black. The white shape in the hall is familiar, though, and it makes your heart race. You open the door, filling the small entryway with the scent of fresh rainwater and humidity.

"Rex," you say. "What are you doing here?”

He’s stoic, still and silent under your gaze, but you can see the tremble in his hands at his sides. The downpour seems to have washed the majority of dirt and debris from his armor, but bits of red still run through the cracks. An hour ago, he was likely covered with whatever the substance was — Umbaran dust or something more sinister — but the rain did well enough to wash it off.

He must’ve walked here, you realize, eyes widening. Your bottom lip pulls to worry between your teeth as you notice the new dents and marks on him. Carbon scoring on his shoulder plate, a tear in his kama, and what seems to be a blaster hole in his chest plate.

"I… I don’t know," he says after a moment. His voice is quiet, rough through the modulation of his helmet. It's as if the words are being dragged up from his lungs.

"I shouldn’t have. I… I should have called. I just… I had to see you.”

The words hang between you, suspended like the raindrops in the air. You feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You can't believe he's here. He's here, and he's alive. You'd known he would be, but to see him with your own eyes, to have him in front of you, fills you with an immense sense of relief.

But something is clearly wrong. He's not saying what's bothering him, and you're almost too afraid to ask.

“Rex, what happened?”

You reach for him, only to have your hand meet nothing but humid air as he pulls back.

“It’s late, sorry for disturbing you—“

He turns to go, and this time you’re faster. Your hand encloses around his wrist and pulls him to a stop before he can take another step.

“Wait, Rex— please, just… stay. Just for a moment. Come in, you're getting soaked."

He lets out a slow breath and then, after a moment, he jerks a stiff nod. He allows you to drag him inside your apartment and, as the door slides shut behind him, he lifts his hands to the seal of his helmet. You watch him closely as he pulls it free and reveals the face beneath.

There are smudges of grime on his golden skin, and a deep furrow has formed between his eyebrows. He looks haunted, as if the shadows from the battlefield have followed him home. You want to smooth that line out with your thumb, but you aren’t sure he will let you.

You don't ask if you can touch him, but he notices the way your fingers twitch, and he knows you well enough to know that you're thinking about it.

"It's fine," he murmurs. He's never said no to you. "Go ahead."

He doesn't say please, and that hurts a little, but you're not surprised. Rex has been holding you at arm's length ever since he kissed you a few months back, and you know why. You just wish you knew how to help him.

So, you touch him. You brush your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the grime. You know that he doesn't need to be cleaned, but the motions are soothing. Your gentle touch is a balm, and you can feel his tension ease ever so slightly as you brush your fingers over his face.

"What happened?" you ask again, voice barely above a whisper.

"A lot." He lets out a slow breath and leans a little into your touch. He's exhausted, and he's relieved to see you, and the two warring emotions are pulling him in different directions. Rex opens his mouth to say more, but the words die on his tongue. He shakes his head, unable to continue, and closes his eyes.

"Come sit down."

You take him by the hand and lead him over to the couch. You sit first, and he follows suit, sitting a respectable distance from you. The distance doesn't seem right. When you'd met him, Rex had been so full of confidence, even when he'd been a little bit awkward, a little bit unsure. But the war had changed him. He was still the same man, still confident and brave and intelligent, but the weight of responsibility had settled on his shoulders, and the burden was crushing him.

You want to tell him it's going to be okay. You want to say it, but the words sound hollow in your mind.

You shift, moving closer, and Rex moves, too. The distance between you shrinks, and the tension eases. You don’t much care that he’s wearing armor, or that the rainwater is leaving damp spots on the upholstery.

Rex reaches for you, and his hands tremble. His gloves are damp, and his armor is cold, and the chill sends a shiver up your spine when he touches your knee. His eyes are distant, and he doesn't quite meet yours, and his expression is so, so sad.

“Hardcase is gone,” he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the look on your face. You can’t help but gasp at the admission, and a soft sob slips past your lips.

You had met Hardcase once, very briefly. He had been charming and charismatic and kind, if a little wild, and you had liked him immediately. He had flirted with you, and Rex had rolled his eyes and tried to hide a smile behind his cup. Hardcase had been fun, and loud, and a little bit reckless.

You had not known him as well as some of the others on his squad, but the pain in Rex's eyes, the grief in his voice, was enough to make it hurt.

"Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry," you murmur.

Rex nods, and his jaw tightens. You can tell that he's trying not to cry, and you can't imagine how hard it must be, to carry such a heavy weight all by himself.

When he speaks again, your blood runs cold.

“We were betrayed. One of our own— one of the Jedi, he—" his breath hitches. “Oz, Ringo — Dozens of them, my brothers. They’re all gone.

"Betrayed?"

You feel like the bottom has dropped out from beneath you.

You knew the war was dangerous, and that Rex's job was dangerous, but the idea that it could go wrong in such a fundamental way?

The Jedi had always seemed so wise, and so strong, and so just. It had always seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do. To know that one of them could betray their men — could betray the Republic, and the innocent people of the galaxy — was too terrible to contemplate.

Your hand finds his cheek again, and this time, his eyes find yours.

They're shining, but his tears don't fall. He's a soldier, and he knows better than to show weakness, even here. You wish he would let himself break. You wish he would let you hold him, and let his tears fall, and let you help him put the pieces back together.

"Rex," you murmur, "I'm so, so sorry."

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and your thumb wipes away some of the wetness that has gathered there.

He pulls back for a moment, and you think he’s pulling away completely before he leans closer. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you tight to him as he buries his head in your shoulder. You immediately return the embrace, one arm over his shoulders while your other hand lifts to hold the back of his head.

You’re not sure how long they stay like that or how many tears are shed between you. After some time, he begins to speak, and you listen while running a soothing hand over his head, trying desperately to keep from sobbing outright as he tells you about the traitorous Jedi Pong Krell.

It’s by far the greatest atrocity you’ve ever heard, and to know that Rex has to put his helmet back on and get back to work in a matter of days makes you sick to your stomach.

He doesn’t deserve this, you think as you pull him into another embrace. None of them do.

Something about the motion causes him to wince, and you immediately release him to grab hold of both his shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

His hesitation is answer enough, and you can feel a wave of anger rise in your chest. How could they let him come back, in the state that he's in? How could they ask this of him, after all he's already done?

“I’m fine, cyare. Armor took most of it.”

If it weren’t for the way he avoided your gaze, you’d believe him, but instead you just feel yourself grow more upset. “What did Kix say?”

“Uh, he didn’t—“

“Rex, you were shot, and you didn’t think to get medical attention?”

His expression darkens, and you can see him withdrawing again. His shoulders pull back, and he pulls his chin up, and the distance between you grows again.

“I didn’t think much of anything, to be honest.” He mutters. It breaks your heart, but it also throws more coals on the anger burning inside of you. Not anger at him, you know, even though you can’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’ll be alright.”

“Like hell you will be,” you bite out before taking a step back to help him stand. “C’mon. Let’s get you patched up.”

You're angry. You're so, so angry. How could he let himself get hurt? How could he come here and not tell you about it? How could they send him home, to you, after all he's been through, knowing that he was injured?

But there's nothing you can do about any of that now, and being angry at him isn't going to help.

“You don’t have to—“ He protests through words only, allowing you to drag him through the living room and into the refresher.

“Yes, I do.” You shut him down quickly as you flick the light on and turn to rummage underneath your sink.

He’s still standing in the center of the room when you stand back up to full height, looking uncomfortable at your fussing. It’s not the first time you’ve had to patch him up, but so far it’s just been cuts and bruises. It’s unknown territory for you both, and he holds himself like he’s waiting for you to give up and shoo him out.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you gently push him down to sit at the edge of your bathtub. He’s pliant in your hold, but he meets your eyes with the worried pinch between his brows he gets whenever he thinks he’s upset you.

“Rex, let me take care of you,” you plead softly, and the furrow deepens.

He can hear the way your voice breaks. He can see the worry in your eyes. You're scared, and he hates that he's done that to you.

He should have known better. He should have taken a moment, to collect himself, before coming to see you. He shouldn't have let his emotions overwhelm him. He should have kept it together.

You were always there for him, and you listened, and he could tell you anything. He should have told you that he was okay. That would have been the responsible thing to do.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

And now, he can't seem to do the one thing you ask him.

But, after a moment, Rex relaxes. He’s never been able to say no to you before, and it is no different now. His shoulders slump a little, and the furrow smoothes, and you can't help but think that his face looks much nicer like this. You wish he wouldn't be so hard on himself.

"Okay," he murmurs.

It's all the encouragement you need. You lift his hand, cradling it gently, and begin to remove his gloves and armor piece by piece. You set the pieces aside, careful to keep them in order, and you know he appreciates that. It's a little thing, but it helps. You make a note to clean it for him before he leaves, the sight of the red smeared across its surface churning your stomach.

It's quiet between the two of you. The only sounds in the room are the rain and the gentle clink of plastoid against the floor as the last piece is removed.

You're grateful for the silence, though. You're not sure what you would say, and you know that he needs this, needs the moment to breathe.

"Where does it hurt?" You ask.

He hesitates. There's a lot of pain, all over his body. But you can't do anything about the pain that aches in his bones, or the ache in his chest. He doesn't know how to tell you about that.

"Chest," he finally admits. "Took a hit in the vest. Knocked the wind outta me."

That was an understatement, but you didn't need to know that. He could barely breathe, when it had happened, but the rest of his brothers needed him, and he didn't have the time to worry about his own injuries.

"Can you get it off?" You ask.

He gives a slight nod and reaches his arm up to grab the neck of his blacks, slowly pulling it overhead to reveal the skin underneath. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, and you feel a flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks.

The only light in the room is the faint glow from the bulb above the mirror. It casts shadows across the planes of his muscles, and you can't help but drink in the sight of him. His chest is strong and broad, and a line of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his blacks.

There's a blaster mark on his sternum, just above his right pec, not far off from the scar in the center of his chest he’d earned on Salucemi. It’s weeping blood slowly, trickling down the curve of his muscle, and you can see the red, puffy skin surrounding the injury.

It isn't terrible. A few inches to the left, and it could have been fatal. A few inches to the right, and the armor could have deflected the bolt entirely.

Still, you know that he's in pain, and the knowledge is enough to make the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again. You force yourself to swallow them back and, instead, you reach for a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean.

He hisses at the contact, and you can see him grit his teeth against the pain. His hand moves to grasp the edge of the tub, and you can't help but feel guilty. You want to tell him to relax, to try and ease his suffering, but you know he wouldn't listen. He never listens, not when it comes to his own wellbeing.

"Sorry," you murmur, but the cloth keeps moving. You have to clean the wound, so you can treat it properly.

“Where’d you learn this, anyways?"

"What, first aid?" You're surprised by the question.

"Mhm."

“My dad was a swoop racer, believe it or not,” you say softly. You don't talk about him very often. It still hurts. But this feels like the right moment.

Rex tilts his head curiously, watching your face. You can see his expression soften, and you know he can tell how difficult it is for you to speak about this.

"Really?"

You nod, your eyes focused on your work. “My mom was always patching him up, and I’d sit on the counter and help out where I could. When she passed, I took over.”

“Isn’t swoop racing illegal?”

“Hm, not on Rion, it’s not.” You finish cleaning the wound and move to grab the bacta bandages. “Maybe if it was, he wouldn't have gotten himself killed."

You're not sure what possessed you to be so blunt, but the words are out, and there's no taking them back. Rex blinks, shocked by your honesty. You feel embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

"Sorry," you murmur, keeping your eyes low. "That was… I shouldn't have said that."

Rex says nothing. He knows better than to try and coddle you, and besides, you've always been the one doing the comforting, not the other way around. But it doesn’t sit well with him to see you like this, and before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out to you.

His hand lifts, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but lean into his touch. He's so warm, and his hand is calloused and gentle. He cups the back of your head, guiding you forward, and his lips press against your forehead.

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as the cloth slips from your fingers, and you cling to him. You feel terrible, for complaining about the loss of your father when Rex has lost so much.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs, and you're not sure if he means for asking or for Hardcase or for the war or for everything, and you can't bring yourself to ask.

“It’s alright,” you whisper back. He lets you pull away from him to busy yourself with sorting bacta patches, but you can feel his eyes on you.

"Is that why you came to Coruscant?” He asks softly, his tone careful and gentle.

Part of you wants to lie. You're tired, and you're hurting, and you're not sure you have the strength to have this conversation right now.

But the truth is already out, and if this will help him, you'll tell him anything.

You nod.

“He was actually really good at it,” you chuckle, and Rex can hear the bitterness in your voice. “But eventually he pissed off some powerful people who were placing the wrong bets. One day he left for a big race, and the next morning I found a box with his helmet at our doorstep. Or what was left of it.”

Rex sucks in a breath, and you can see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He knew about the helmet, he’s seen it on the shelf in your living room. But he hadn't known the full story.

You look back up at him. There are tears in your eyes, but they don't fall. You're smiling, and your eyes are sad, and his heart breaks.

“I tried to get the police involved, the racing league, anyone I could get to listen to me, but no one would investigate. I was so angry. Then I started getting threats. I couldn’t…” You shake your head, trying to rid the memories. "I couldn’t stay. So I moved here. And then the war started, and then I met you.”

It seems like a lifetime ago. The days before Rex felt like someone else's life, and you wonder how you ever managed without him. You'd been so lost, and so alone, and you'd felt like the universe was crashing down on you, and he'd pulled you out from underneath the rubble just by being there.

"I'm so sorry, cyar'ika," Rex murmurs.

You reach forward and gently lay a hand on his chest, pressing the bacta patch into place. His skin is soft beneath your touch, and you can't help but think, not for the first time, about how beautiful he is.

"I'm glad that you're here," you tell him softly. "That you made it back, I mean. I'm glad you came home."

Home. Rex swallows thickly.

He's never had a home before, not really. Home had been a word for people with families and futures. Home had been a word for normal, everyday people, not clones.

Home had always seemed like such a far away concept, something he'd never get to experience.

But, suddenly, the idea isn't quite so foreign. Home. With you.

"I'm glad I came back too," he finally murmurs, and his hand lifts to hold yours.

You're quiet, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, and his gaze finds yours.

There's something different between the two of you, something charged and heavy. You know you need to pull away. He needs to rest. You're both exhausted.

But you can't. You can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful, and he's kind, and he's the bravest person you've ever known. You've never loved anyone the way that you love him.

"Cyare," he whispers, and the word makes your heart stutter, even if you don’t know what it means.

He's not sure what comes over him. Maybe it's the way you're looking at him. Maybe it's the fact that, after the past couple of weeks, he thought he'd never see you again. Maybe it's that, for once, you're letting him take care of you. Maybe it's because you're so beautiful and you're so close and he loves you, he's so in love with you, and he doesn't know how much longer he can stand to go without saying something.

Whatever it is, he knows he needs to say something, and he knows he needs to do it now.

"I'm so glad I met you," he whispers, and it's the best he can do, but he hopes it's enough.

He reaches forward, and his hand finds the curve of your cheek, and the touch is enough to send a spark through your skin. You can feel the heat building inside of you, the desire pooling in your core, and the air in the room is electric.

"Me too," you manage.

His lips find yours.

You gasp against his mouth, and your arms wrap around his shoulders, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You're pulling each other closer, as close as you can possibly get, and it's not close enough.

Rex moans softly against your lips, and you can't help the way your hips twitch, or the way you whimper into his mouth. You're both desperate, and eager, and it's the sweetest relief.

He stands and turns, lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the counter, and his body presses against yours. Your legs part, welcoming him, and his hips slot perfectly between them. His hands are on your thighs, gripping and pulling and massaging the flesh.

"Rex," you gasp, breaking away from his lips.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips against your throat, his tongue and teeth working the delicate skin. He sucks at your pulse point, and you whine. You know that there will be marks in the morning, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"Rex," you whine again, and you're not sure why, not exactly, because all you want is for him to keep doing what he's doing, to let him claim you and mark you and make you his. But you're overwhelmed, and you need to catch your breath, and his name is the only word your brain can think.

His fingers tighten, and his lips lift from your skin. He’s watching you with dark eyes and swollen lips, chest heaving.

"I need…" he trails off, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but you understand.

He's holding himself back. He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want to assume, but you can feel the need rolling off of him.

He's desperate.

You are too.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper.

Rex sucks in a breath. There are a lot of things that he could say, but the only thing he can manage is your name, soft and needy, and you can hear the way his voice breaks.

The sound makes you ache.

Your hand finds his jaw, and your thumb runs along his bottom lip. He's looking at you with the most adoring eyes, and your heart feels like it's about to burst.

"Please," he breathes.

It's all the encouragement you need. Your lips find his, and his hands find your hips. He lifts you off of the counter and into his arms, and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. His fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, grabbing and holding and massaging the flesh. You're not sure how the two of you make it into the bedroom. All you can think about is Rex's lips, his teeth and tongue and hands, and the way he's carrying you like you weigh nothing, his hardness digging into your hip.

It's a miracle he doesn’t trip over the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

His knees hit the mattress, and he leans down to lay you gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. There's a tenderness to his actions, a sweetness in the way he handles you, that makes you shiver. His thumbs trace the lines of your hipbones underneath your shirt, and he smiles at the sound of your breath catching in your throat.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, and the words are enough to make you ache.

His hands are so gentle, his face so earnest. He's always been so careful with you, and it makes you feel like the most important thing in the world.

"Yeah," you whisper, your hand coming up to rest against the side of his face.

Rex's smile is so beautiful, and it's so full of joy, and you can't help but return it. He turns his head and presses a kiss into the center of your palm.

His lips move, tracing the lines on your palm. His teeth nip gently at the tips of your fingers, and he watches as your breath catches.

He wants to take his time, to learn every inch of you, to map out the places that make you moan and the ones that make you scream, and the ones that make you laugh. He wants to kiss the scars and worship the stretchmarks and the freckles, and the dimples in your skin, and the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, and the birthmark on your shoulder, and he wants to show you how beautiful you are, how perfect, how special, how loved.

He'll do it, eventually. But not tonight.

Tonight, he just needs you.

His fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up slowly, and he can't help the groan that falls from his lips at the sight of you. You're suddenly, painfully aware of the fact that you'd never put on pants when you answered the door, let alone a bra, and you're almost embarrassed.

But the way Rex is looking at you after your shirt is tossed aside makes your stomach flutter, and the words die on your tongue.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, his eyes wide.

He can't seem to decide where to look, where to touch first, so you grab his hands and guide them. They slide across the planes of your stomach and over your ribs, and his fingers ghost the underside of your breasts, and your head falls back onto the pillows.

"Rex," you beg. "Please."

The sound of your plea is enough to spur him into action. His lips find the side of your neck, and his hand cups your breast, thumb finding your nipple and swiping over it.

You gasp, your back arching and hips bucking into his, and Rex moans softly. His teeth graze the line of your pulse, and he moves lower, and he pulls a nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at the back of his neck.

You can feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He likes having this effect on you.

The hand on your other breast is kneading the flesh, and his lips are sucking at your nipple, his tongue tracing patterns on the delicate skin. His fingers pinch and pull, and you can feel the heat building between your legs.

"So sensitive," he hums, and the vibrations from his words send a tingle down your spine.

"Only for you," you breathe.

The words make his hips stutter, and the hardness of his cock presses into the wetness of your core. You can feel the outline of him against you, the heat and the thickness, and your breath catches.

You roll your hips into his, and Rex releases a groan, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of your breast.

"Kriff," he hisses, and the sound sends a shock of pleasure through you. Suddenly, you remember your promise.

"Lay back," you whisper, and his head lifts.

"What?"

You push at his shoulders, mindful of his bandages as you urge him backwards, and Rex follows your command. You move quickly, kneeling between his legs and grabbing the waistband of his blacks. You can see the outline of his hardness straining against the fabric, and you can't help but lick your lips.

"Can I?"

Rex's chest is heaving, his eyes blown black, and you can tell he's trying to process your question.

"Cyar'ika," he breathes, and the endearment makes your heart flutter. "You don't have to."

"I know," you tell him, your hand moving slowly up and down his thigh. Your head tilts thoughtfully. "Can I be honest?"

"Always," he replies.

"I've wanted to for a while."

You can feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck, and your eyes dart away from his. You don't know why, it's not like you've been hiding your attraction, but something about telling him is making you nervous.

"You have?"

His voice is soft, and his hand finds the back of your head. His touch is so gentle, and the surprise and happiness in his tone makes you bold.

"Yeah," you murmur, looking back up at him.

He looks stunned, but there's a light in his eyes, a warmth that you can feel spreading inside you too. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug. "I didn't want to push."

It's his turn to blush. It's cute, the way his cheeks flush, and his eyes dart away. He almost looks embarrassed.

"Since we're being honest…" He starts.

"What?"

"Me too."

Your heart stutters, and a wide grin stretches across your face. The happiness building inside your chest is competing with the desire that courses through you at the knowledge that he's thought about this, about you, and the idea is almost too much. You're sure you must look like a fool smiling this much, but you can't bring yourself to care.

"You've thought about it?" You tease.

"Yeah," he breathes. "All the time."

"Tell me."

He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair, and you can see the way his cock twitches at your words. "I… Kriff, I've imagined it so many times. How good you'd look on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, or bent over, with my hands on your hips, or straddling me, riding me."

"What else?"

You've moved closer to him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs. You've never felt so desperate, so needy, and all you want is him, any part of him.

"I think about it all the time. What it would be like to have you in the barracks, in the 'fresher, in the hangar. You on your knees in my office. Fuck, everywhere. It's all I can think about sometimes."

You can feel the wetness growing between your thighs, and you can't stop the whine that falls from your lips. It's almost too much, hearing the things he's imagined, the ways he's wanted you, the times and places, and the need and desperation behind his words.

"Then will you let me?" You ask, and you hope the answer is yes, because you can't imagine stopping.

"Please," he breathes.

"What was that?"

Rex's grip on your hair tightens, his gaze locked on yours as he speaks again, his voice is low.

"Please, cyare."

That's all the encouragement you need. Your eyes don't leave his as your hands pull at the fabric, slowly revealing his length. He's bigger than you dared to imagine, and thicker, and the sight of him is enough to make your mouth water.

His eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and his mouth is hanging open slightly. The blush on his cheeks is spreading down his chest, and the muscles in his arms are tensed.

"So perfect," you hum, and you're not sure if you're talking to him or his cock.

You wrap your hand around him, and Rex's hips stutter. Your thumb swipes over the head, spreading the bead of precum, and his eyes fall shut.

"So sensitive," you tease.

"Cyare," he warns. There's an edge to his voice, and it makes you grin.

Your head dips down, and you press a kiss to the underside of his cock, and his hips jerk. You keep pressing kisses along his length, your fingers wrapping around the base. Rex is struggling to breathe. He's not even inside of you yet, and it already feels better than anything he's ever experienced before.

He opens his eyes to look down at you, and the sight of you on your knees in front of him is almost too much. He's dreamed about this moment, and fantasized, and he never, not in his wildest dreams, imagined that it would feel like this.

Your lips wrap around him, and Rex can't stop the way his hips thrust up. His cock brushes the back of your throat, and you gag, pulling back slightly with tears in your eyes.

"Sorry," he gasps, his cheeks flushing.

You shake your head as much as you can with his length in your mouth, and your eyes flash up to his.

You like this, he realizes with a start. You like being used, you like the feeling of him fucking into you, and the realization sends a shock of pleasure through him.

You bob your head slowly, and Rex watches, transfixed, as his cock disappears between your lips. Your tongue runs along the underside, and his eyes fall shut again.

"Maker," he moans.

Your hand is stroking what doesn't fit into your mouth, and your other is tracing the lines of his thighs, and his abs, and his V-lines. You can feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under your fingertips, and you can see the way his hips are straining, the effort he's making to keep still.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and you hum softly in response. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling gently, and his other hand comes to rest on the back of your head.

"Fuck, mesh'la," he moans, and the praise makes you preen.

You pull back, until only the head is between your lips, and swirl your tongue around him. He tastes sweet and salty and just the right amount of bitter, and you can't get enough.

"So good," he gasps. "So perfect, so beautiful."

He's babbling now, the words falling from his lips without him thinking about them, and you can't stop the grin. You'd always wondered if he was a talker.

"So perfect, cyar'ika, taking me so well." His voice is wrecked, and his breath is coming in ragged pants. "Feel so good. I could fuck your mouth all night."

His words make you shiver. He could. He could do anything he wanted with you, and you'd let him.

You move your head down, taking him as far as you can, and Rex's eyes open to watch you. You hold his gaze as his cock slides along the back of your tongue and hits the back of your throat, and you suppress the urge to gag.

"So pretty," he hums, his voice strained. "Such a good girl."

Your pussy throbs at the words, and the moan you release vibrates his length.

"That's it," he gasps.

You can feel the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but you keep moving, keep taking him, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"So good, mesh'la, so, so good."

He's repeating the words, and you're not sure if he knows he's saying them. Your jaw is starting to ache, your lips are sore, and there's drool dripping down your chin, but you can't stop the soft whimpers and moans.

The sounds are enough to drive him mad.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, and his thumb runs along your bottom lip, stretched around him. The gesture is so tender and loving, it's almost too much.

"Look at you," he breathes. "Kriff, I've wanted this for so long. So beautiful. So perfect. My perfect girl. You take me so well."

You hum again, and his head falls back, the movement pushing his cock deeper. You gag around him, and his hips stutter, a litany of Mando'a spilling from his lips. You're not sure what he's saying, but the words are making your cunt clench, the pleasure building inside of you overwhelming.

"I'm close, mesh'la," he gasps. "If you want to stop, you'd better— ah, kriff!"

You've pulled back, and the suction of your lips is incredible. Rex's hips are stuttering, his hands are tugging on your hair, and the sounds falling from his lips are enough to make your core throb.

"Mesh'la, please, I can't—"

His words die in his throat as you reach between his legs and roll his balls in your hand. The action sends him hurtling over the edge, and his hips thrust up one last time, pushing his cock down your throat as he comes.

Your throat works to swallow every drop. It's so much, more than you were expecting, and you struggle not to choke. His grip on your hair is borderline painful, but you don't mind. You can feel his whole body trembling, his breathing labored and his chest heaving.

You release him with a wet pop, and he shudders. You press one last kiss to the underside of his softening length, and he twitches, his body still sensitive.

"You're gonna kill me" he breathes.

"Hopefully not." You wipe your mouth, thumb catching a stray drop of cum and sucking it into your mouth, and you watch as his eyes darken.

He pulls you to him, and you climb back into his lap, his lips on yours. The kiss is slow and lazy, his hands running up and down your back, his body still shuddering from the force of his orgasm.

"Mesh'la," he sighs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "So beautiful."

His fingers trail down the side of your neck and between your breasts. They ghost the skin of your stomach and dip underneath the hem of your panties, and you can't help the whimper that escapes.

"Still want me?" You ask.

"Always."

His lips are on your neck, and his fingers find the wetness between your thighs, and you gasp. The noise that falls from his lips is filthy.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he groans. "You're soaked."

"That's your fault," you manage.

His teeth graze your pulse, and his fingers brush against your clit, making your hips buck.

"Can't help it," you gasp.

You can't stop the cry of pleasure as his thumb presses down. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, and you're not sure why. You've made it perfectly clear that you want this.

"Rex," you whimper. "Please."

He presses another kiss to your lips, and the hand not between your thighs wraps around your back, holding you steady. He teases your entrance, and your breath catches, and then his fingers are slipping inside.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss.

You're so wet, so slick, and his fingers slide in easily. Just two fingers already feel so thick, and you can feel your walls stretching around him. There's a dull ache, but it feels so good.

"Cyar'ika," he groans. "Fuck, so tight."

His fingers pump in and out slowly, and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Faster," you gasp. "Please, Rex."

"Shh," he coos. "Patience, mesh'la."

"Please."

"Be a good girl and be patient for me."

You whine, the sound muffled by his shoulder. He's being cruel, teasing you like this. You've already had him once, and now he's drawing it out. "Rex, I need you."

He hums softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. His fingers are still pumping in and out, slowly, agonizingly, and you know he's doing it on purpose.

"I need you," you whimper.

"I'm here," he whispers.

"No, I— ah! I need you inside me."

You can feel his breath catch, and his fingers stutter, and then his lips are at your ear.

"How do you want me, mesh'la?"

"Like this," you breathe. "I want to ride you."

His breath hisses through his teeth, and his fingers speed up. The change in pace is enough to make your head spin, and the noises coming from your mouth are embarrassing. You sound desperate, and you are.

"Fuck, Rex."

"So good," he hums. "Such a good girl."

A third finger slides in beside the other two, and the stretch makes your back arch. You're not sure when he had the chance to slick his fingers with your wetness, but he must have. He's not hurting you, and the feeling is incredible.

"Rex, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," he cuts you off.

"Please, I need to—"

"You'll wait," he growls, and the command is enough to make your toes curl.

"Please," you beg. "I'll be good, I promise, just—oh!"

Your plea is cut off by a sharp cry of pleasure, and your walls flutter around his fingers, your hips rocking back and forth.

"I said not yet."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, and the words come out strangled. "I couldn't help it, you feel so good."

He hums, his thumb finding your clit, and the stimulation is almost too much. His lips find yours, and his free hand holds you steady as his fingers move inside of you.

You writhe on top of him, your legs shaking, and you can feel the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach, and it's all too much.

"Please," you beg, and you're not even sure what you're asking for.

"What do you need?"

"Please," you gasp.

"Use your words, cyar'ika. What do you need?"

"I need— ah! I need you. I need more. Please."

He's torturing you, you realize. He's doing it on purpose, making you beg, punishing you for how you teased him earlier, and the thought of it makes your cunt throb.

"You've been so good for me, mesh'la. You think you've earned it?"

"Yes," you hiss. "I'll be good. Please, Rex, I'll be a good girl."

He can't say no, not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed, and the look in your eyes is so desperate.

"Okay," he concedes.

You let out a sound of relief, and his fingers are slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, and the action is enough to make you groan. You rise off of him, legs trembling, and hurriedly push your panties down and toss them aside.

He looks up at you, and there's awe in his eyes, a reverence, as his hands settle on your hips to guide you back to him. Your hand wraps around his cock, lining him up, and the two of you gasp as his head breaches your entrance.

"Take your time," he whispers. “You don’t have to—fuck!”

You sink down, taking him fully in one smooth motion, and Rex can't stop the low, guttural moan that escapes.

"You said to take my time," you say, and there's a cheeky lilt to your voice. He opens his mouth to argue, but the words die in his throat. "So I took my time."

You can't stop the grin. The look on his face is almost too much. His cheeks are flushed, and his chest is heaving. His lips are swollen from the kisses, his eyes wide and his pupils blown. He looks good like this, you think, and you've never seen him so undone.

"Cyar'ika," he finally manages.

You hum, circling your hips, and his grip on you tightens. Your pace is slow, savoring this feeling unlike anything you've ever experienced. He's bigger than anything you've ever had inside of you before, filling you in ways you didn't even know were possible. You're still adjusting to him, and your movements are slow, but they're steady, and you can't help the soft whimpers and gasps.

Rex is struggling to breathe. Your heat is so warm and so wet, your walls are clenching around him, and the sight of you is almost too much. The way your head is tipped back, your eyes closed and your mouth open, the sounds you’re making, and the way his cock is disappearing inside of you over and over again, it's all so much. He can't believe this is happening.

He leans forward to press a kiss to your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse. You gasp before pushing on his shoulders, and his back hits the mattress. You lean over him, your hands reaching to grasp the headboard, and the new angle makes the both of you exhale. It also makes your breasts hang tantalizingly in his face.

Rex is not one to waste an opportunity.

He leans up and closes his lips around one of your nipples, and the sensation is enough to make your hips buck. Your pace speeds up, and his hands grip your hips tightly, helping to guide you.

"Oh, kriff," you gasp.

He releases your nipple with a pop and moves his attention to the other, and the sound you make is almost enough to make him come right then. He can’t help but shift his hips, moving them up and down in time with your thrusts, and you pull away from him to give him a look of warning.

"Stay still," you order.

"Or what?"

You raise an eyebrow, and Rex shivers. You're not sure what makes him react like that, but it sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

"I'll stop."

His jaw drops, and his eyes widen. "You wouldn't," he says.

"That’s an order, Captain," you say, and his cock twitches inside of you. You can't help the wicked smile. You’re learning a lot about him today.

"You're the worst."

"You love it," you retort.

His hands move to your waist, and he pulls you closer.

"I love you," he breathes.

You can feel yourself clench around him at his words, and he hisses through his teeth.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Your lips meet his, and his tongue slides into your mouth as his hands roam your body. You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his lips are warm, and his breath is hot, and his body is so close to yours, the feeling is overwhelming.

He's everything.

"I love you," he says again, his voice hoarse.

"I love you, Rex."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"It's true," you gasp.

His hips stutter, and you pull away, giving him a look of warning, and his jaw clenches.

"Sorry, cyar'ika. I couldn't help it."

"I know."

"Let me make it up to you."

"Wh— ah!"

You cry out as his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter. The movement sends pleasure shooting through you, and your legs shake, the pace of your hips unsteady.

"That's it," he coos. "Come for me."

"Not yet," you gasp. "Need you to— oh, fuck, Rex."

His hips snap up, meeting your thrusts, and the new pace is relentless. He's chasing his own release, and you're right there with him. You can't take it anymore.

"Please, please, I can't—"

"Go ahead," he urges.

You can't stop the cry that tumbles from your lips. You can feel the orgasm building, and your hips are bucking wildly.

"I can't—I can't," you sob.

"Come for me, cyar'ika. Come on my cock."

The words are enough to send you over the edge, and he swallows your cries of pleasure. You're trembling above him, your nails are digging into his skin, and the pressure of his fingers against your clit is enough to make your hips jerk.

"Kriff, I can feel you," he breathes. "Your little pussy is squeezing me so tightly."

"Please," you beg. You're not even sure what you're begging him for.

All you know is that he feels so good, and you're so sensitive, and the sensations are too much and not enough.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

"Shh, shh, it's okay."

He's so gentle even as he sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the end of your channel, and his fingers are rubbing frantic circles around your clit.

The pressure is almost painful, but it feels so good.

"Oh, fuck, Rex," you cry out.

"Come again," he demands.

"I can't," you protest. "It's too much."

"You can," he counters. "Do it for me."

The words send a thrill through you, and you can feel the pleasure building. Your walls are fluttering around him, your hips are bucking, and you can't control the noises coming from your lips.

"That's it," he growls.

Your orgasm washes over you, and this time it's stronger, tears spilling over as his name falls from your lips over and over again. You can feel your release gushing out of you, coating his cock and the sheets below.

The sight is so filthy, but it only seems to spur him on. Rex grips your hips tight enough that you know you’ll bruise, and the thought sends another thrill through you. You want him to leave his mark. He fucks up into you with a force that has the headboard slamming against the wall, and his thrusts are losing their rhythm.

"I'm so close," he breathes.

You're barely coherent, but you can't help but latch on, his words sending another rush of heat through you. "You gonna come for me, Captain?"

He shudders, and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He can't find the words.

"You've been so good for me," you purr breathlessly. "Let go."

You can see the tension leaving his shoulders, his jaw slack. His breath is coming in shallow gasps, and his thrusts are unsteady. He's teetering on the edge, and all it takes is a few more words from you.

"Fill me up."

"Cyar'ika," he warns.

"Do it," you order.

"Fuck, cyar'ika," he breathes. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming, I'm—"

He curses, his head falling back against the pillow, and his cock pulses as he spills inside of you, his hands tight on your hips to hold you down. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, and the sensation is enough to make the corners of your vision darken.

"I can feel it," you murmur. "I can feel you, kriff, Rex."

He groans, his arms pulling you down, and you collapse against his chest. You're not sure how long you stay like that, just holding each other. You can't feel anything except him, his hands running up and down your spine, and his lips pressed to the top of your head.

“So,” you say after a while, and he can hear the smugness in your voice.

You tilt your head, and the look he gives you is withering.

"Don't start," he warns.

"Captain, huh? I didn't know that was your thing"

"That's not—"

"What? You don't want to talk about the fact that your cock gets hard when I call you Captain?"

On cue, the appendage in question twitches, and Rex closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not— ugh, kriff," he mutters.

You can't stop the laughter that bubbles up.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," you coo.

"Don't patronize me," he says, but the words have no heat behind them.

"I'd never dream of it, sir."

You can see the blush rising in his cheeks, and his eyes darken.

"That's an order," he grumbles.

You lean up, brushing your lips against his, and the touch is soft and gentle. He melts into it, his hands resting on your waist.

"Yes, Captain," you say.

"I can't—kriff. You can't say things like that, mesh'la." His expression is pained, and the sound that escapes him is almost a whine.

"You're right," you agree. "I can do better."

He raises an eyebrow, and his jaw drops as your fingers wrap around his wrist. His eyes follow the motion as you pull his hand between your thighs. You let out a satisfied moan as his fingers dip between your folds, and he can't tear his gaze away from the sight of his seed dripping from your cunt when his softening cock slides out of you.

"You're a mess," he says reverently.

"I'm a mess because of you."

He hums, his fingers gathering some of his spend and sliding it back into you.

"Is this what you were imagining, Captain?"

He shudders at the title, and his hips cant, his cock stirring to life.

You can't help the grin. "It is, isn't it?"

"You're terrible," he growls.

"Oh, I'm not terrible. I'm the best you've ever had."

He lets out a breathless laugh. "You're the only one I've ever had," he admits.

You pull back, staring at him in surprise, and the look on his face is unreadable.

"Are you— are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," he says, brow raised.

"But--"

"Cyare, I've only ever wanted you." His words are simple, and they're said with a conviction that steals the breath from your lungs.

"Oh."

You're speechless. You're not sure what you'd imagined the past few months. You're not even sure if you'd ever given much thought to it, but the idea that you're the only person who has ever made him feel like this is dizzying.

"I've loved you for a very long time," he confesses, and the words make your heart ache. "I never thought—kriff, I never thought you'd feel the same."

"I love you," you say firmly. "So much."

He grins, and the smile is so wide that his cheeks are dimpling. You can't resist. You lean down to kiss him again, and the way he holds you, like you're the most precious thing in the world, makes the feeling in your chest bloom.

"I'll say it every day for the rest of our lives, if that's what you need," you say.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he murmurs.

"I wouldn't," you promise.

He stares at you for a moment, his gaze intense, and his grip tightens. You can see him steeling himself, and the words he speaks make you shiver.

"Good, because I intend to marry you someday."

"Someday," you echo. You're not sure if you believe him, if that's even possible for you, but you believe that he believes it.

"When the war is over," he confirms. "When the fighting is done, and we've finally got a chance at peace, I'll give you the galaxy, cyare. And a family, if you want one."

"Rex, I—" You swallow thickly, and he can see the emotions flickering across your face. His fingers are drawing shapes on your hip, and his eyes are locked with yours.

"I'm not asking for an answer now," he says gently. "I just— I want you to know how serious I am."

You nod, and the silence that stretches between you is heavy.

"You really mean it," you finally say.

"Of course I do."

"What happens if—"

"There is no 'if.'" His tone leaves no room for argument, and he shifts, sitting up. The new position brings you into his lap, and your knees are straddling his waist. He rests his forehead against yours, and his breath fans across your face.

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

"Together," you murmur.

"I'm with you. Always."

You close the distance, kissing him softly. It's nice, holding him like this. The feeling of his arms around you is enough to drive the fears from your mind, pushing them to the furthest corners. You can feel yourself relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders, and his hands roam your body, exploring every inch.

"You know," you begin, your voice quiet, and your lips brush against his with every word. "I'm still waiting for a tour of the barracks, Captain. Oh, the hangar too."

His breath hitches, and you can feel him starting to harden again under you.

"Cyare," he breathes.

"I'd love to see your office," you continue, and his eyes darken. "You can give me a private tour, just the two of us. I'll wear a skirt, and you can bend me over your desk."

His cock is fully erect now, and he can't stop the groan.

"And the showers," you purr, gently rotating your hips. "I bet they're big. Just big enough for the two of us. We could get the water nice and hot, and I could drop to my knees..."

"Kriff," he swears.

"Or…"

He's breathing heavily, his fingers digging into your skin.

"We could do that now," you offer.

"Cyare." His tone is pleading, and the sound sends a thrill through you. You can feel the ache building between your legs, and your thighs are sticky.

"I'm already dripping wet," you whisper.

"That's it."

He moves so fast that it makes you yelp, and the next thing you know, he's on his feet, carrying you, and your legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks swiftly towards the 'fresher, and the feeling of him sliding against your core makes you shudder.

"You're going to be the death of me, cyare," he murmurs.

"Maybe," you concede. "But I think we can agree that it'll be a great way to go."

The door slides shut behind him, and the sound of his laughter is enough to make you melt.

"A great way to go," he echoes.

You know the path ahead of you is treacherous. You know there will be more battles, and more losses, and more nights where you're unable to sleep. You know there will be pain, and fear, and sorrow.

But there will be hope too, and joy, and happiness. A home, and a family, and a future.

It will be worth it.

[arctrooper69]

Mine

Here's my piece for the wonderful @isaidonyourknees for the @cloneficgiftexchange! So sorry it's a day and a half late! 😂😅

Warnings: Suggestive spice (nothing explicit), unwanted advances, jealousy, angst

--------------------------------------------------

"Leave me alone, Crosshair." The order meant to be snappish slipped out instead with a tired sigh.

"No," came the reply.

You sighed again as you felt him shift and sit down a few feet away. No more words were exchanged - the silence felt both peaceful, yet suffocating.

"Why are you up here pouting?" He finally spoke.

You glanced at him sharply. "I'm not pouting!"

"Yes you are."

"No. I'm not!"

He huffed dryly. "Sure looks like it to me."

"Hunter benched me!"

Crosshair shifted and sighed, "It's for your own good."

You scoffed, "And how would you know what's good for me?"

"You're exhausted. You're off your game."

"I'm fine. I feel fine."

He sighed again and you could practically feel him rolling his eyes. "That constant tapping of your foot and the way you're shaking tells me you're trying to run on stims and caf."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "And how would you know?"

He was silent. "Because I've done the same thing."

"So that makes you think you're better than me?"

"No."

You crossed your arms, turning away from him. “I’m still not pouting.”

“Sure.”

You glared at him out of the corner of your eye. “Just go away.” This time the words did deliver the sharp edge you’d wanted before, but now you weren’t sure it was exactly what you wanted.

You didn’t know what you wanted.

“Fine, came the equally snappish response. Crosshair stood and headed back down the wooded trail. A sudden disappointment threatened to overtake you and a heat burned in the back of your throat as you tried to swallow it back.

“Crosshair wait…” you called out, turning to face him as he paused and turned back.

“What?”

“I…” You stopped. No. Crosshair had better things to do than to deal with emotions that you yourself couldn’t even decipher. “Nevermind.”

For a second he paused, almost as if waiting for you to once again change your mind. He shook his head and turned around once again, disappearing into the woods, leaving you on your own.

Fine. It’s fine. You’d asked for privacy and that’s exactly what he gave you. Yet, it felt lonely nonetheless.

Crosshair was confusing to say the least. One moment it felt like he was trying to make an emotional connection, and the next he acted like he wanted nothing to do with you.

The roar of engines echoed through the trees from the base of the hill as the Marauder soared into the sky and disappeared into the atmosphere.

***

It seemed like forever ago that you'd met the surly sniper on a job. It was forever ago. So much had changed since a heated exchange of angry words led to a moment of heedless passion. One night. A romance ignited by the very intensity that divided you. The same fingers that rested pompously on the trigger of a rifle soon pulled through tangled hair and moved with purpose against your warmth. Tongues once sharp and taunting, now slotted through parted lips with desperate pleas for more.

And then it was over. Back to the cold realities of war. No words were spoken, only awkward avoidances and inverted eyes.

Talk to me, you'd wanted to say. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.

Perhaps that's all it was to him. Maybe you'd given him everything he wanted in that moment. Maybe that's all you were to him - a distraction - a soldier's relief from the stress of a never ending war.

You'd wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come. Then the galaxy changed and as the Republic fell, so did your hopes.

And now after so long, he was back.

***

It was nearing dusk before you finally pushed yourself from the ground and headed back down the path.

Fueled by a growing sense of hunger and the need to be around others, you found yourself walking towards the local cantina.

The music blared from somewhere above, pumping a bass that rattled your bones.

Despite the club-like atmosphere the lighting was dim, illuminating the same bar scene that haunted almost every planet in the galaxy.

The air was thick with the scent of spice and the sound of raucous laughter. You sat at the bar, nursing a drink. Despite the bustle, it still felt lonely.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

Fingers ran across your back as you spun around to face the unfamiliar voice.

A large nikto smiled drunkenly over at you as he leaned against the bar.

“You look lonely. You here alone?”

His breath reeked of alcohol. “You're real pretty,” he slurred, reaching out to grab your arm.

You jerked away, shooting him a glare. "Back off," you growled, voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.

The nikto persisted, his grip tightening. "Come on, don't be like that.”

“Dude,” you rolled your eyes, “leave me alone.”

He sighed, seemingly annoyed at your refusal.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone in a place like this. Let me at least walk you home, baby.”

“Don't call me that,” You spat, wrenching your arm from his grip.

His jaw stiffened as he stood up straighter.

“You should be more grateful that I'm even giving you the time of day, bitch!”

Now it was your turn to stand. The nikto grabbed your arm again. Your fingers curling into a fist, ready to strike the stupid smirk from his drunken face.

"She's not yours to touch."

A familiar voice growled from behind as the nikto’s hand was wrenched from your arm with a cry of pain.

Crosshair.

What was he doing back already? You turned to face him standing behind you, expression dark and dangerous. His hand rested on the blaster at his hip, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

The nikto's eyes narrowed. “And who do you think you are, asshole?”

Crosshair glowered, taking a menacing step forward. “I'm the guy who's going to put an extra hole in you if you don't leave immediately.”

The nikto paused, unsure if he was bluffing or not.

Crosshair clicked the safety off, loosening the blaster from its holster.

"I'm not gonna ask you again," he said, voice low and threatening.

The nikto had enough. “Geez, okay fine! I'm leaving!”

Without another word, he turned and fled, disappearing into the crowd.

You stood silently watching as Crosshair stepped forward, his practiced eyes scanning every inch of you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, “Did he hurt you?”

You let out a shaky breath, “No,” you murmured, “I'm fine.” A smile flitted across your face as you looked up.

Honey brown eyes stared sharp, pierced with concern and something else.

Jealousy?

“Good.” He replied. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something more but couldn't find the courage to do so.

But this time something rose within your own chest, warm and encouraging.

“Crosshair?” The words came timidly despite their bold intent.

He looked sharply, “What?”

“What did you mean by that? ‘She's not yours to touch’?” You asked. His hand, still on your arm, gripped a bit tighter, pulling you close. Something flashed in his eyes. It wasn't the hardness you'd come to expect from him.

“It means you're mine. You've always been mine.”

--------------------------------------------------

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[stellarbit]

His Scent

Hunter x female Jedi

I got a request for a Jedi solo saving Tech on a mission, growing closer, and making Hunter jealous. I tweaked it a little bit, but lemme just saw NSFW my girlies. I am not a Hunter girlie but I did have to fan my face for this one. You are strong and confident in this one.

2.0k words. NSFW

Tech leaned heavily against you, his arm draped over your shoulders as you helped him hobble along. You had been sent to Kashyyyk with Clone Force 99 to assist in dispatching a group of Trandoshan marauders. The operation concluded smoothly—until a separate incident sidelined Tech.

While attempting to disable enemy sensors solo, Tech missed several check-ins. Eventually, his voice crackled through the comm-link, "It appears I've inadvertently descended into a booby trap on the forest floor," he reported. "Apart from a definite ankle sprain, I'm intact. However, extricating myself from this pit will prove challenging given the state of my ankle. Assistance would be appreciated."

“Just hang tight, we’ll come rescue you.” Hunter’s relief was palpable through the comm. He’d barely released the comm device when you cut in.

“I’ll go.”

Hunter hesitated, shaking his head. “No, no. Crosshair and I-”

You raised a hand to cut him off. “Serg, I can force-jump down there and retrieve him faster than you could even reach the edge.” His silence was telling; he was clearly not convinced. Laughing heartily at his stern demeanor, you playfully slapped his shoulder as you breezed past. “Relax, Sergeant. I’ve got this.”

Hunter wasn’t fast enough to stop before you leapt into the dense canopy with a force-jump, diving into action despite his reservations.

But, you were right. Locating Tech and pulling him from the pit proved no challenge for your Jedi abilities. As the two of you made your way back through the Kashyyyk forest, you planned your next move aloud.

“Once we reach that clearing, I can jump us back to camp.”

Tech, wincing slightly with each step, was quick to propose an alternative. “Perhaps if you just comm Wrecker, he could—”

You interrupted Tech by yanking up on him, bettering your grip on him. “You boys need to have a little more faith.” Lurching him over one more felled tree you managed a teasing tone, “Unless it’s the heights bothering you.” The joy you got from teasing Tech would never fade.

Once at the clearing, you paused to give Tech a chance to rest his foot. He sighed heavily, the frustration evident even through his helmet. "I'm merely suggesting that Wrecker's strength could hasten our journey," he remarked, looking for a pragmatic solution.

Laughing lightly, you knelt to inspect his ankle. It was clearly swollen, but thankfully it seemed manageable with some rest. As you steadied his knee, you teased, "And miss the opportunity to hold you close?" You playfully blew a raspberry, adding, "Not likely."

Tech tilted his head, his shoulders drooping slightly under the weight of his exasperation. "You do realize, your playful antics might be entertaining, but they're also prolonging our delay."

“So you do find me entertaining.” When Tech’s only response was a deadpan expression you scoffed and stood.

Placing your hands on your hips and leaning in mock-seriousness you said, “Lighten up, Tech. We'll be back before you know it." Wit a sly grin, you added, "Besides, I think someone's little detour into a booby trap is the real time thief here."

Tech rolled his eyes, conceding with a shrug. “Fine, seeing how my mishap did indeed slow down operations.” He extended a hand towards you. “We will do it your way.”

Unable to hold back a satisfied smile you crouched down, shrugged his arm over your shoulder and put an arm under his legs to position him in your arms. Hauling him up in one fell swoop, you craned your head back to gauge his reaction.

Completely caught off guard, Tech’s hand flew up around your neck. His startled expression made you pause. It was cuter than you’d imagined. Tech quickly adjusted his eyes to a more composed, no-nonsense look.

"Okay, okay," you chuckled, slightly embarrassed but focusing on the task at hand. Tightening your hold on him, you looked up through the forest canopy. "Hold on tight." With those words, you launched upwards, navigating through the trees with ease.

Back at camp, Hunter stood impatiently at the Marauder door. He still wasn’t sure letting you go off on your own was the right thing to do.

Echo noticed Hunter’s fixation from his position inside the ship. "Hunter," he called out, rotating the pilot's chair to face him, "she can handle this."

Hunter didn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on the path you had taken. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, a silent admission of his confidence in you. However, his eyes betrayed a hint of unease. "I know she can," he murmured, more to himself than to Echo. "But I’d feel better if she didn't have to prove it so often."

He’d feel better if you never left his sight.

Landing gracefully back at the camp, Tech still in your arms. As you approached with Tech, the rest of the squad gathered, visibly relieved to see both of you safe. 

Wrecker let out a boisterous laugh, clapping Hunter on the back. "Looks like the Jedi's got everything under control, huh?"

Hunter couldn’t help but smile genuinely this time, his eyes meeting yours as you helped Tech to a more comfortable spot. "Good work," he said, his voice carrying a mix of admiration. "But next time, maybe let us help a bit more."

Tech, now safely on solid ground, nodded in agreement. "Yes, perhaps with a more... collaborative approach."

Wrecker took Tech off your hands, following Echo into the Marauder to treat Tech. 

“Alright,” Hunter announced, turning to you and Crosshair. “The three of us will do one last perimeter check. As long as everything is clear for the regs, we can head out.” Without a word, Crosshair stalked off to begin his section of the sweep.

Hunter then turned to you. “You and I will take this sector.” His tone left no room for argument as he started walking.

“As long as I’m following you,” you quipped, your gaze briefly flicking to his backside, “I’m not complaining.” Your flirtation drew a weary sigh from Hunter.

You had only ventured a few feet into the forest, beyond the sight of the ship, when Hunter abruptly turned to face you.

Hunter grabbed your arms, spinning you around to face him as he pressed you against the massive tree root. He lifted his hands, removed his helmet, and moved in to cage between his arms.

For a moment, neither of you spoke; the forest around you seemed to hold its breath.

"You're fearless," he murmured, his voice low. "I respect that. But out there, when you jumped with Tech... I realized something." He moved a knee in time with his hands as he pushed you higher onto the tree root. Using his knees, he knocked your legs apart and pressed himself in between them.

“And what’s that?” A tremor ran through your hands, the predatory look in Hunter’s eyes locked you in place. Your legs fanned out farther for him, pulling a groan from him as he pressed into you.

"I didn't like it," Hunter confessed, his eyes dipping to your lips. "I didn't like the smell of him on you." His words hung in the air, charged and raw. His admission was not just about the mission—it was about him, about you, about the undefined something simmering between you two.

A soft laugh escaped you, born of nerves and the surreal nature of the confession. “The smell of him?”

Hunter nodded, bowing his head so that the tip of his nose brushed over the curve of your ear. A shiver ran up your spine, bending your neck towards him. Hunter’s hand slid over your shoulder, up the back of your neck, and to the side of your head. With a firm grip, he pulled your head to the side and exposed your neck.

Hunter grazed his lips where his nose had been and down the length of your neck. He settled into the crook of your neck and muttered against your skin. “I can still smell him on you.”

You whined at the hum of his voice across your skin. Until then, your hands were frozen at your sides, now they freely roamed his waist. The way Hunter moved his body was a sin.

“You hate it that much?” You breathed out.

“Yes,” He ground out. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" 

You moved your head just enough that your lips were only a breath from his. Heat pooled between your legs and you smiled. “So do something about it.” 

Hunter’s nose flared and kissed you like he was going to devour you. The angle you were sitting at gave him ample room to pull at your clothes. The loose nature of your outfit made it easy for Hunter to expose the skin of your legs and pull aside your panties. 

At the same time you ripped away the gear at his waist. Between the two of you, it felt like you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were completely bare for each other. 

Hunter’s hands wedged under your ass and angled your hips as you pulled him from his pants. At your touch, Hunter sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth over the sensitive flesh. You gasped into his mouth. 

“Tell me you want this.” He almost begged.

“I want this,” You quickly panted.

He thrust his hips into your touch, groaning as he said, “Tell me you want me.”

Giving him a firm stroke, you lined his head up with your entrance. That gentle contact sent a drip of your slick down his cock. 

“I want you, Hunter.” You pulled him in with your legs and sunk his cock into you. He finished the motion and buried himself into you.

His girth shocked you, but didn’t stop you from moving against his thrusts. The painful stretch he caused flooded your groin with heat. Each thrust knocked you incoherent. His thrusts were shallow and rapid, barely pulling out before ramming back into you. 

With another person, he may have worried about breaking them. You weren’t like others though. Your strength and fierceness were what intoxicated him. So Hunter trusted you could take it; that you could take him.

And you were taking him so well.

You squeezed your hand between your bodies, feeling for the sensitive bud between your legs. When you arched into him, Hunter knew you found it. Your eyes rolled while your fingers made small, precise circles. Every second, you were tightening around him and pushing him closer to his limit.

Hunter dipped his lips to the soft spot behind your ear, breath warm against your skin, and gave the spot a long, slow lick. With a smile evident in his voice, he said. “Good girl.”

His voice made your entire body go taught, a sudden burst of heat rushing from your core. You moaned out his name like it could save you and held on to him while your orgasm wrecked you. 

The sudden vice grip you had on him made Hunter hiss and he buried himself deep inside of you, pressing his face into your neck. Release hit him hard and he groaned into your skin. For a moment, he thought he’d never stop filling you.

Everytime he thought he was coming down you convulsed around him and another wave of pleasure flooded him. It wasn’t until your body started relaxing around him that Hunter was able to gain a semblance of clarity. 

You both were breathless. Panting, spent, and drunk on each other. It took a good ten seconds of catching your breath before you reached up, patted the back of his head, and said with a smile, “How do I smell now?”

Hunter chuckled into your shoulder. He inhaled deeply before he pushed himself up. On exhale he said, “Good.”

Your head fell back and you laughed, “Because I smell like you?”

He gripped your chin and tilted your head back up. With a cocky little smirk he gave a nod. “Exactly.”

The moment lingered, but duty eventually called, and you both straightened, adjusting yourselves and your gear.

Hunter replaced his helmet, saying "We should finish that perimeter check," His voice was almost normal but still carrying a trace of the heat from moments before.

You nodded, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. "Lead the way, Sergeant."

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter One (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference,Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the “Cryptid Rengoku” character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

Y/N Perspective.

It's early, too early. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. For weeks now, I've followed the same routine: waking up, wandering the forest surrounding my village, and searching. Every day, I look for a sign that something, or someone, is out there. Yet somehow, I always come up empty-handed. It's not just me, though. My entire group is burnt out on this whole thing.

Searching for monsters has never been a passion of mine, but when you're down to your last cent and someone offers you free food and board in exchange for your help, how can you say no?

I still remember when Miss Tamayo approached me. It was snowing hard up in the mountains, and she saw how badly I was struggling in the cold. She was kind, took me in, and talked to me at length about the mystical monsters and beings her group had been studying and searching for. I'll admit, it was interesting, but I didn't believe any of it was real.

We've all heard the tales—the stories of the creatures we now call the Hashira, the terrifying monsters that once protected their respective villages and residents. While they made for nice campfire stories, there was simply no way these beings existed. Even if they did, why would they stay hidden? Wouldn't they seek revenge on the villagers who used them and then cast them out? None of it made any sense to me.

Despite voicing my concerns and disbelief to Miss Tamayo, she still wanted to help me, as long as I was willing to help her. And that's why I'm here now.

I'm in the middle of this forest. The sky is grey and cloudy, with rain surely on the way. It's foggy, and visibility is poor. Since I'm new and have only been working with these monster hunters for a few weeks, they've given me a basic route—one that minimizes the risk of encountering a real threat. Tamayo wanted me to look for a special flower that supposedly grows around here, but I haven't had any luck yet.

If I can't even find a flower, I don't feel like I'll make a promising monster hunter. At least, that's what Yushiro, one of Tamayo's most relentless supporters, thinks. Though we are civil to each other's faces, he openly voices his concerns about having me around. He says it's a waste of time to bring along someone who doesn't even "believe in the cause."

I suppose I can't argue with him too much. I've walked this same route every day for a few weeks now and still haven't come across the flower Tamayo sent me to find. Maybe it really is a waste of time—

My thoughts are interrupted by a rustling sound in the distance. My body immediately tenses up. I glance around, but the thick fog makes it hard to see. All this talk and thinking about monsters and mythical creatures is starting to get to me.

What was that? Did I lose the path? No, that's just me overthinking it, thanks to Tamayo and Yushiro filling my head with stories. I'm just being paranoid.

The rustling resumes, this time from the opposite direction. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Tamayo? Yushiro? Is that you?" I call out into the fog.

I wait for their reply, but none comes. Adding to the unease, the air feels hotter now, and a strange clicking noise echoes through the area, growing closer and closer.

What should I do? Should I run?

As the clicking grew louder, I made up my mind and began to sprint through the fog, knocking branches and anything else in my path aside. At some point, I lost my footing. The trail must have ended, and I twisted my ankle on a tree root protruding from the ground.

My ears were filled with the sound of my own breathing, and it felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. This can't be happening. I was sent on an easy route to fetch a flower, not to be chased by some crazy monster.

I tried to stand, but the pain in my ankle was too much. I strained to stay silent and listened for the clicking sounds; they were faint but still there. I had to get out of here.

Grabbing onto the trunk of the tree I had tripped over, I pulled myself up. It hurt, but the adrenaline rush made it barely bearable.

The fog was finally starting to lift, and I could see the path I usually followed. I must have accidentally stepped off it while running. As long as I could get back, Tamayo would be able to help me with my ankle.

As I started to move slowly, a red light in the distance suddenly caught my attention. Squinting, I tried to make out what it could be and then realized it was two red lights, gradually moving closer to me.

Eyes.

Panic surged through me as I scrambled to move, trying to go as fast as my injured ankle would allow, grabbing onto anything I could for support.

This can't be happening. I refuse to believe any of this is real. How could all those stupid campfire stories be true? And why, out of all the monster hunters in Tamayo's group, did I have to be the unlucky one?

I wanted to scream and yell for help, but I was so deep in this forest nobody from the safe house would hear me.

It hurts. It hurts so much. It feels like my body is going to give out any minute, but my mind is racing, forcing me to keep moving.

The clicking is now accompanied by a deep growling, making it sound all the more intense. Whatever this thing was, it sounded terrifying. And those deep red eyes didn’t really help with my imagination.

Then it happened. I had to take a knee. The strain on my ankle kept getting worse the more I moved. I'm done for. Whatever this thing is, it's going to kill me.

At least Yushiro can look at my corpse and say, "I told you so."

As the clicking and growling got even closer, there was a small thump to the ground as whatever was about to kill me approached. I shut my eyes and prepared for whatever my fate was.

I felt it stop a few feet behind me. This monster is just staring at me. I’m too afraid to face it. I don’t want the last thing I see to be those glowing red eyes.

"What are you doing? Why did you run away?"

My heart nearly stopped. That voice—it was deep, loud, and had an eerie, echoing effect. Was this monster talking to me?

I took a deep breath. What should I say? Should I beg for my life?

"I asked you a question, human. Why are you running away?"

I could hear a hint of annoyance in its tone. The last thing I wanted was to anger a mythical being. I slowly turned my body. The sight that met me made speaking even more difficult.

It was tall. He was tall—about eight and a half feet.

He had blonde fur and a long mane of hair with red accents scattered throughout, tall pointed ears, and those glowing red eyes.

My lips parted. I wanted to answer, to beg for my life and apologize for intruding. But his appearance was so intimidating, so... enchanting.

I froze as he moved closer.

"Can you not speak, human? Are you afraid of me?" He chuckled. His laugh was as intense as his voice.

"I can speak," I managed to choke out.

His eyes seemed to light up, and he smiled.

Dear God. Those teeth. Long and sharp. If he wasn’t terrifying before, he definitely was now. I felt my heart beating rapidly. I knew I was done for, but this was all too much.

"What is your name, human? I've seen you walk this path for days now. I deserve to know who intrudes on my territory daily." Instead of anger, his tone was oddly amused.

"My name is Y/N L/N." I tried to keep the nervousness out of my voice but didn’t do a great job.

"Well then, Y/N L/N. You wandered away from your usual trail as soon as I got close to you. Why did you run away? Aren't you supposed to be looking for me?" He laughed, a mocking sound.

"You are a 'monster hunter,' aren't you?"

I didn't know what to say. He was right. I was supposed to be looking for him. That was the whole point of Tamayo taking me on, but I hadn’t expected it all to be so real.

"I didn’t believe in monsters. I was sent to look for a specific flower," I mumbled.

"Didn't believe?" He moved closer, towering over me. "Tell me then, Y/N L/N, do you believe now?" He smiled, those sharp teeth gleaming.

I felt my body run cold. He was terrifying, not just in appearance but in his entire demeanor.

“Yes, I do.”

For a moment, silence filled the air, broken only by the sound of the wind and his slight clicking.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“I am Kyojuro Rengoku, the protector of this land and its residents.” The echo in his voice cemented my assumptions.

There was no mistaking it—I had run into one of the Hashira.

I’d heard the stories, the legends of Rengoku, the fierce protector of this area. He was kind until he wasn’t. Then, humans saw him as a threat and banished him to the forest.

He kneeled down in front of me, still on the ground.

“You don’t seem too surprised. Have you heard of me?” His ear twitched, and I noticed the massive tail behind him curl around his body.

I took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ve heard the stories. You’re the Hashira associated with fire.”

He perked up at my response.

“So, my legends live on! How amusing!” He laughed.

His voice was so loud, it was almost funny.

Why is he acting like this? I thought he would have killed me by now.

“You’re hurt,” he said, gesturing to my ankle.

“Yeah... I sprained it,” I replied, shifting awkwardly.

“Yes, I know. From running away from me.” His tail flicked slightly, and a smirk formed on his face.

I didn’t know what to say or do. I was completely at a loss. Here I was, casually having a conversation with one of the scariest and deadliest creatures to walk the earth.

“What are you going to do with me? If you’re going to kill me, can’t you just get it over with?”

He looked at me, a mix of confusion and amusement in his eyes.

“Why are you so desperate to die so soon? Do you not enjoy my company?” His voice echoed with a chuckle.

Is he being serious right now?

“No— I’m just... confused. Why are you still talking to me? I’m a monster hunter, not a very good one, but still a monster hunter. Shouldn’t you just kill me and get it over with?” I was desperate for an answer, needing to know if I should prepare to die or not.

He stared at me for a moment, as if deep in thought, his ears twitching slightly.

“No, I don’t think I’ll kill you,” he said plainly. “However, only on the condition that you continue to return here. Tell no one of your kind about me and continue to come see me.”

I sat there, dumbfounded. This terrifying creature was willing to spare my life as long as I returned for his company?

“Why would you want to see me again?” I asked.

He smiled, baring his long, sharp teeth, his ears perking up.

“Because, Y/N L/N, you are the first person to talk to me in a long time. To be quite honest, something inside me is telling me that you and I are really going to like each other.”

His tone shifted, becoming more sinister. What did this creature have planned for me?

And why was I excited to find out?

Next>>

[techhasmjolnir]

Dealer's Choice

Plot: You and the guys are enjoying some downtime in between missions, and one night you all decide to kill some time by playing a game. Things quickly take a bawdy turn.

Author's Notes:

Many thanks to @zoeykallus and her wonderful “Truth or Dare” story as the inspiration for me to finally craft a poly Batch tale.

Unlike my other works, there's a general description of the reader as someone that's into body modifications (piercings and tattoos). Additionally, assume the reader has a contraceptive implant. No other description of the reader is implied, nor should it be inferred. This story also assumes that the interest is there between the reader and the boys, but they're not yet in a relationship.

Sit back and set aside some time to read this one, for it comes in with a word count of 14,009.

Important Notes:

This content is strictly for audiences 18+. The roles in this story assume female readers and all members of the Bad Batch. Concepts introduced include: creampie, cum eating, cum swapping, dirty talk, female ejaculation, M & F masturbation, M & F oral (giving & receiving), PiV, toys

A collective sigh of relief comes from you and the men you've spent the past year working with, the specialist troopers of Clone Force 99. After bouncing endlessly between missions, the word is finally given that all of you are to take a standard Galactic month off for much-needed R & R, and to spend time overhauling the Marauder. You look forward to going home to your countryside villa on Naboo, and extend the offer for the guys to stay with you instead of spending their nights on the ship.

“This is some place you've got here, Y/N,” Wrecker says, his head swiveling around to look at the large vestibule into which everyone is gathered.

“This is nothing,” you reply, groaning as you let your heavy backpack slide off your shoulders. “You should see some of the villas out in Lake Country. This place? It's modest, by Naboo standards. I did the best I could hoarding credits away for years during my time as a bounty hunter in order to be able to afford it.”

“Bounty hunter? I suppose that explains how you ended up with us,” Tech chimes in as he pushes his lenses back in place. “Mercenary work is a natural extension of bounty hunting, in terms of a general skill set.”

“You're not wrong about that, Tech. I may not have enhanced tracking abilities like Hunter, but I more than make up for it elsewhere. All right, since all of you are going to be crashing here for the next month, you're more than welcome to occupy any of the spare bedrooms on the second or third floors. It looks like the housekeeper was here just recently, so everything should be cleaned and in full working order. I don't know about the rest of you, but I've been dying for a real shower ever since we were holed up in that dump on Tatooine!”

“Don't remind me,” Crosshair remarks. “I think I still have the stench of bantha on me.”

“I thought it was obvious it was their breeding season,” Tech slyly adds, never missing the opportunity to get digs in on Crosshair whenever possible.

“Enough, you two,” Hunter interrupts. “Grab your gear and head upstairs. Y/N's been gracious enough to let us stay here instead of being miserable in the Marauder every night, so let's at least try and act somewhat civil.”

You let out a cackle and painstakingly re-shoulder your backpack. “All right, you guys. Go upstairs and get settled. How about we reconvene in a few hours for something to eat, and maybe start unwinding with a game or two?” You start walking off to your bedroom, stopping to turn around when you hear Echo.

“Where are you going, Y/N?”

“Oh, my quarters are down here. I don't think there's enough room in there for all of us,” you tease.

You disappear down the hall toward your bedroom as the guys start making their way to the second floor, completely out of earshot as Crosshair casually says, “you want to make a bet?”

*****

“All right, guys, the rules are simple. All you have to do is spin the bottle, and whoever it points at is the one who will be asked “truth or dare.” If you pick truth, just answer the question honestly. We're all adults here, so there's no need to be embarrassed about anything. Same goes for dare. The only rule about dares is that you don't have to do them if it violates your personal ethics, or is a violation of whatever you consider to be your hard limits. You can rescind consent at any time and ask for a pass, or change it to truth. I just have a hard time believing you guys have never played this game before...I think almost every culture in this galaxy plays some version!”

“Remember, Y/N, we're from Kamino. “Fun” and “games” are two words that are not in the Kaminoans' language,” Hunter offers. “We did our best to amuse ourselves when we were boys as a means of escape from our harsh reality...but not with anything like this.”

“She doesn't need a trip down your memory lane, Hunter,” Crosshair sighs irritably, shifting his ubiquitous toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Are we doing this, or what?”

You roll your eyes and set an empty wine bottle on the floor. “Since you are my guests, one of you can spin the bottle first. Mmm, Wrecker, you want to do it?”

“Absolutely! Let me at it,” he says cheerily.

“Wrecker, mind your strength,” Tech warns. “We do not need you launching the bottle into the wall, or one of us.”

Wrecker's huge hand closes around the wine bottle and he gives it a deft spin. It slows and comes to a stop, the neck pointing at Crosshair. He chuckles and narrows his good eye as he looks at his brother's seemingly constant sour expression. “Oi, Cross...truth or dare?”

There's an audible crunch as Crosshair snaps the toothpick, hastily plucking the broken pieces out of his mouth. “Do I have to?” he grumbles.

“Do you have to be so disagreeable all the time, Crosshair?” you reply, half jokingly. Quiet laughter from the others ceases when you hold up your hand. “It's a harmless game. Just relax and play along. You might just have fun.”

“All right, fine. Truth,” he says churlishly.

Wrecker's face breaks out into a huge grin, and you have the feeling he's up to something. “Yes or no – do you have a crush on Y/N?”

Crosshair's eyes widen, heat stealing its way up the back of his neck and into his ears. You look around at the others, surprised that Wrecker would lead off with a very revealing question. Hunter is trying not to smile, and Echo and Tech share a knowing glance. You won't be surprised if Crosshair answers yes; it wouldn't be the first time someone admitted they had feelings for you while working closely together. The reactions of the others suggest your prediction is correct.

“Well? Do you?” Wrecker asks again, grinning madly.

Crosshair digs his fingertips into the arms of the chair in which he's sitting, his face slightly reddened. “Yes! Yes, all right? For fuck's sake, Wrecker, did you have to do that?” He turns his head away, not able to look at anyone, especially you.

Uproarious laughter fills the room as everyone finds it hysterical their normally unflappable brother is quite humiliated. The only one not laughing is you, because while you find it fitting that Crosshair is temporarily subdued, you're empathetic. You've always known Crosshair is a very private person, and admitting something like this represents a serious loss of control.

“Guys, please. Crosshair, it's your turn. Spin the bottle,” you say gently.

He sighs softly and turns to look at you, his cheeks tinged red. His dark eyes bore into yours and don't break your gaze as he leans down and forward, speedily grabbing it and setting it in motion. The bottle wobbles for a moment before it stops and points at you. You can hear Tech muttering something to Echo under his breath and for a split second, you have a feeling of apprehension. Crosshair's pride is hurt, and now that means he's unpredictable.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” he sneers, completely evaporating whatever embarrassment he just felt.

Everyone's eyes are on you, keen to see if you'll accept a challenge from him. You look around and grin, chuckling softly. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, boys, but for the first round, I'm going to have to go with truth.”

One look at Crosshair's expression tells you exactly what he plans on doing; he's going to try and retaliate in an effort to fluster you. “Have you ever fantasized about any of us in a sexual way?”

You feel your heart start to race a little and you do your best to stay calm. Heat flows into your cheeks and as your expression softens, a little grin is riddled upon your lips. Ever since you became part of the squad, you've done your best to try and maintain an air of professionalism, but you're only human, and with five handsome men always in close contact with you, you certainly entertained thoughts of what it would be like to be with any one of them.

“Hey, are you in there?” Wrecker asks.

“I'm...thinking,” you reply slowly, the grin becoming a big smile. Finally you end up laughing, rolling your eyes as you speak. “Of course I have. Anyone with eyes would end up fantasizing about a group of incredibly attractive guys like you. There. Are you happy, Crosshair?”

He smirks at you, sitting back in his chair as he taps his cheek idly with his finger. “Not just yet, but give it some time. I think I will be.”

*****

“Are you ever going to accept a dare?” Crosshair complains. “I think you're playing coy on purpose.”

The game has been going on for awhile now, and it's been highly entertaining. The bulk of the racy questions have all been directed at you, and the only reason you've hesitated opting for a dare is because you know the minute you say yes, someone is going to get really creative, which will result in you losing an article of clothing. You're no stranger to being in various states of undress around men out in the field, and the guys are no exception, but you've never been completely naked around them.

“All right, all right! Fine! If you're that keen on it, I'll take a dare. Just make it a good one, Crosshair,” you say, feeling your heart starting to beat a little faster.

Crosshair grins and runs his hand through his hair, pausing briefly before speaking. “I think we've all learned quite a bit of...shall I say...interesting things about you tonight, Kitten.”

“Cross, don't call me that. You know I don't like it,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead. “Where are you going with this?”

“You wanted a good dare? I've been thinking about this all night, and it's something I think we're all going to like,” he says, a disconcerting grin emerging. “As long as you consent, of course.”

It doesn't escape your notice that Hunter flashes him a questioning look, and both Tech and Echo moved forward to the edge of one of the couches they're sitting on, clearly interested as to what could possibly be this good. Wrecker glances over at you, puzzled as to what Crosshair's about to do, and as you look over at him, you shrug. As you look back at Crosshair, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a very hungry look in his eyes.

“I've consented to everything you boys have thrown at me tonight. I can handle whatever you come up with.”

“That's good to know, because you're going to strip down to nothing and stay that way the rest of the night.”

You flash him a look of defiance, momentarily catching him off guard. “Fine by me! I've got nothing to hide, and besides...” You pause and look around at the guys, all of whom have the tiniest of grins on their faces. “The likelihood of all of you not wanting to see me naked is precisely zero.”

Tech clears his throat a little nervously. “I do believe she's got us, there. Statistically speaking...”

“Tech, shut up for a moment, will you?” Crosshair snaps. “Y/N, you accepted the dare, so follow through with it.”

You slowly rise and roll your shoulders as you stretch. Sighing softly, you pull the tie for the lower back of your top, letting the ribbons flutter loosely around your hips. The guys have all gone quiet, watching with you with rapt interest. Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back a little as you reach up to loosen the ribbon at your neck, pulling away your top and letting it fall to the floor. You can hear someone's breath hitch in his throat as your chest is on full display. Heavy tattooing spans the area over your breasts and down your sternum, prominent steel rings in your nipples.

You open your eyes and Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker are looking at you completely awestruck. Glancing over your shoulder at Tech and Echo, you wink and flash them a sexy grin, chuckling as you see color beginning to creep into both their faces. “You won't be left out, boys. Just be patient.”

Might as well give them a little show, as long as I'm doing this, you think. Really give them something to get off on, later...

Sliding your thumbs under the waistband of your soft, loose pants, you start to roll your hips in an enticing manner, purposely making eye contact with Crosshair. You slowly begin to slide the material down, the silky shimmer of your black panties coming into view. He stares, completely enamored, shifting uncomfortably in his seat in an effort to disguise the fact he's starting to grow hard. Despite the fact that Tech and Echo are sitting behind you, they're getting as much of a show as the other three, and the moment your muscular ass comes into view, one of them accidentally lets slip a tiny groan. You grin and step out of your pants, casting them aside to join your top.

“Mm, someone's enjoying the view, am I right?” you say, your voice lowering seductively as you turn to look over at Wrecker, who's got his hands in his lap, trying to cover up his growing arousal. “Please, big guy, I'm not stupid. If anything, it's pretty fucking hot.”

You bring a hand to your chest, letting it linger between your breasts, as the other slides down your stomach and lightly grazes your pubic mound. Letting out a content sigh, you hook your index fingers in the band of your panties and begin to lower them almost agonizingly slow, stepping out of them carefully as you drop them with the rest of your clothes. You're careful not to reveal too much of yourself, but you can't help but part your legs just a little so that the ring in the hood of your clit is plainly visible.

“By the Maker...” you hear Tech utter quietly.

You raise your hands above your head and lazily turn yourself around in a full circle so everyone gets a full look at you, coming to a stop in front of Tech and Echo. The two of them can't stop themselves from looking you over head to toe, with Tech's attention turning to your hood piercing. A broad grin crosses your face as you take your index finger and let it rest under his chin, tipping his head up so his golden brown eyes meet yours.

“My eyes are up here, honey,” you laugh. “It's all right. You like what you see. There's no shame in that.” You look at Echo, his normally pale skin now flushed pink with arousal. “I think the same goes for you, too, dear.” You turn around to face Crosshair, a look of smug superiority on your face. “Well? I did it, and I managed to render you speechless. I consider that a rare victory...and I do believe it's my turn to spin the bottle.”

You sit down on the floor, keeping your legs closed and to the side. Giving the bottle a hefty spin, it eventually stops and points to Wrecker. “Truth or dare?” you ask, a little smile on your face. He looks over at you, blinking slowly as he makes up his mind. Heat floods his cheeks as he feels his cock twitch heavily under his hands. “Which one, Wrecker?”

“Truth,” he says hesitantly.

“Hm. If you could have one thing right now, what would it be?”

His mind immediately goes blank trying to think of something plausible, because he's embarrassed to tell you the truth. “A giant bowl of Mantell Mix would hit the spot,” he mumbles.

Crosshair bursts out in derisive laughter. “Wrecker, you're the worst fucking liar. Really? Mantell Mix? You're going to have to do better than that!”

Hunter rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, turning to look at Wrecker. “Just tell her the real truth, vod. The smell of it rolling off you is getting to be a bit much.”

Wrecker groans and closes his eyes. “All right, fine. Honestly? I'd love to have you sitting in my lap with my cock buried in you, while I play with your clit.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, a mixture of amusement and intrigue on your face. “Well...I certainly wasn't expecting to hear that out of you.” The idea of having him splitting you in half with what is probably quite a thick cock is tantalizing. You feel the stone of arousal forming in the pit of your chest, along with a tiny pulse in your clit.

This gets a rise out of the rest of the guys; they're all laughing quietly and Echo gently pokes Wrecker in the arm playfully with his scomp-link.

“Come on, everyone. If Wrecker is brave enough to say that, then I'm betting the rest of you are having some pretty sexually charged thoughts, too,” you gently chide.

Wrecker takes the bottle from you and a brief look of appreciation passes between the two of you. It spins wildly before ultimately pointing to Hunter. “Truth or dare?” he rumbles.

Hunter's dark eyes lock on yours before he speaks. “Truth.”

“I wanna ask you the same thing Y/N just did. What's the one thing you want most right now?”

“I really want Y/N perched between my knees, letting me fuck those perfect tits of hers,” Hunter replies quietly, shifting just a little so you can see the bulge forming under his blacks.

Now it is abundantly clear to you where the rest of the game is headed. The heat building between your legs is growing stronger, wetness beginning to seep from you. The pulsing in your clit becomes constant as the sensitive flesh begins to swell. There's absolutely no hiding from Hunter that you're fully aroused now, and the look he gives you is one of sheer desire. You wonder if the rest of them are all sporting massive erections by now, but you don't dare to move your head to look around to check, lest you give away your intentions.

“I think you like my idea, Y/N, don't you?” Hunter asks with palpable amusement in his voice.

“She's turned on?” Crosshair murmurs, idly scratching his chin with a fingertip.

“Without a doubt, she is,” Hunter replies, giving the bottle a quick spin. It lands back on you, and your heart starts to race again. “Truth or dare, ad'íka?”

Your mouth goes dry and you manage to keep your voice from quivering with apprehension. “Dare.”

“I'm willing to bet that you've got an absolutely gorgeous little cunt. It's a shame you've kept it hidden away from us for so long. Spread your legs so we can all see.”

You feel your cheeks go hot, but not from shame. Hunter's never used language like this with you before and all it's doing is casting more kindling into the roaring inferno of your arousal. More wetness seeps from you as you carefully unfold your legs and rearrange yourself into a position on the floor where everyone can see you from the front. Slowly, you comply, leaning back on a hand to balance yourself as you part your legs. With your other hand, you take your index and middle fingers, spreading them into a V shape as you spread your outer lips, showing the guys the slickness between your cleft.

“You look so fucking tasty, Kitten...” Crosshair rasps as he slowly starts touching himself through his blacks, already soaked through with pre-cum.

Ignoring Crosshair's use of the epithet, you look at the others to see them all nodding in agreement, their eyes all seemingly darkened with lust. Tech leans over to whisper something to Echo, and the two of them chuckle softly, Echo biting his lower lip for a brief moment. You steal a quick glance at them, and like the others, they're concealing prominent bulges under their blacks. Tech looks over at you with a gentle smile on his face.

“If you are willing, Y/N, would you consider letting us all have a taste?”

It takes you a moment to figure out what Tech means by having a taste, and you realize it goes much further than wanting to eat your pussy. You choose your words carefully, making sure there's no room for any misunderstandings that could end in regret. “I know it's been a really long time since any of us have gotten what we want, or need. If we're going to do this, I want you to know that I trust all of you explicitly, and yes...you may all share me. Let's just have fun, and enjoy each other.”

“Then I believe a modification of the way this game is played is necessary,” Tech declares, pushing his lenses back into place. “Instead of asking truth or dare, we will tell Y/N what we would like to do with her, and she can choose to accept or decline. This way, there will be favorable outcomes for us all. Y/N, is this agreeable?”

You smile at him winningly and nod. “Works for me, everyone.” You exhale forcefully and send the bottle spinning. As it stops on Wrecker, you look and see him grinning like he's won the best prize in the galaxy.

“Can we do that thing I said earlier?” he asks a little shyly. “And will you let me have a little taste of your pussy, too?”

“Absolutely, big guy,” you chuckle as you get to your feet and stop in front of him. Even though you're roughly at his eye level when he's sitting, it still feels like he's towering above you. “How do you want to do this?”

“Climb on my lap, sweetie, and let me do the rest. I'll be gentle, I promise.”

As you straddle his massive lap, one of his huge hands rests on your back and the other comes under the back of your leg, suddenly pulling you off your feet so your legs are slung over his shoulders, your pussy so close to his face you can feel the heat of his breath. You let out a yelp and try to figure out where to put your arms so you're comfortable. Balancing your forearms on his thighs as his hands close on top of your knees, you look up at him, catching him wink at you with his good eye. You've watched people eat you out before, but never from this vantage point.

“Just relax, mésh'la. It's all right,” he reassures you.

You let out a surprised, quiet moan as he lightly kisses your clit and then your outer lips. His warm tongue delicately trails its way through your folds, gathering up all your juices as it makes its way up to your now swollen clit. When he closes his lips over it, you groan and let your head fall back, shutting your eyes as he alternates between suckling lightly and flicking the tip of his tongue along the underside of it, and over your piercing. When your legs start twitching involuntarily with each stroke of his tongue, Wrecker lets out a deep, rumbling moan of his own against you, the vibrations tickling every nerve ending.

His cock twitches against your back and you moan his name softly, thinking about what it's going to be like to have him inside you. Wrecker turns his attention from massaging your clit to slipping his tongue through your outer lips all the way to your entrance. His strong tongue probes deeply as he tastes another flow of your juices, and his grip on your knees tightens.

He starts to gently rock his hips up into your back, silently telling you that he's just about ready for the next step. As he pulls his mouth away, one hand comes back under your back to support you as the other brings one of your legs down. Once you're back in an upright position, you climb off his lap, your legs visibly trembling.

“I hope that was all right, Y/N,” Wrecker says. “Been a long time since I've done that with anyone.”

“All right? I think that was more than just a little all right,” you reply breathlessly, feeling like your legs are going to give out.

He laughs and takes your hand, placing it right over his thick, meaty cock, straining to be let out of his blacks. “That's all for you, mésh'la. Why don't you show everyone how beautiful you look when I've got my cock stuffed inside you?” His hands slip under the waist of his pants, easing them down to his ankles. His cock lies long and straight against his stomach, and as your eyes fall upon it, he flexes it for you, a little bit of pre-cum clinging to the tip. “Come sit and keep it warm, Y/N,” Wrecker coaxes.

You turn around and see the wanton expressions on the others' faces as they patiently wait their turns. Wrecker takes his cock in his hand and starts stroking it gently as he waits for you. As you back up and straddle his lap once more, you let out a loud gasp as you feel the head of his cock slip through your outer lips, positioning right at your entrance. Resting your hands on his thighs for balance, you start to carefully ease yourself down on him, exhaling slowly as you feel him start to stretch you out.

Wrecker wraps an arm loosely around you, resting a hand on one of your breasts, gently thumbing your nipple. “Take all the time you need, Y/N. I know this is an awful lot,” he murmurs.

“Y-yeah, it is,” you reply shakily. “You feel incredible, already...”

You lower yourself down onto him, inch by inch, moaning continually as his girth stretches you to what feels like your absolute maximum. Wrecker buries his face in your hair, groaning loudly the farther you sink. As he bottoms out in you, his strong hands slide under your legs and lift you up just a little so that instead of your hands on his thighs, now your feet rest there. He takes you by the ankles and you take a hold of his forearms as he starts to slowly rock up into you.

“How's it feel, Wrecker?” Hunter asks as he strokes his cock idly through his blacks. “Usually women are scared to death of that thing,” he chuckles.

“So tight...hot...wet,” Wrecker groans through his clenched teeth. “Ride me, mésh'la, please...”

You oblige, and start bouncing on his cock, deep lusty moans springing from you with each successive stroke. He starts bucking up into you a little harder, passing over your sweet spot repeatedly, sending white hot bolts of pleasure through your pussy. One hand leaves your ankle and works its way between your legs, where the flat of his thumb falls upon your rosy pink pearl, swirling in tight little circles. Wrecker is notably dexterous, switching with ease from rubbing your clit to flicking his thumb over it, loving how you're responding to his touch.

Riding him faster, you feel yourself getting closer to your peak, unable to combat the fiery combination of Wrecker's cock ravaging your pussy and the determined stroking of his thumb. Your clit buzzes pleasantly, tiny little contractions starting to multiply, and a deep growl rolls out of Wrecker as he now lays into you, feeling his own orgasm on its ascent. His cock begins to tighten even more with each upward stroke, and the electricity in your clit becomes more concentrated.

“Don't stop, Wreck...I'm so fucking close,” you gasp.

“So 'm I, mésh'la...come for me,” he moans.

A few more well-timed strokes of his thumb against your engorged clit is all it takes before he hears your breath hitch in your throat, his name falling from your lips in tiny gasps. The lightning in your clit spreads quickly through your core, sharp cries of unrestrained bliss spilling from your throat as your walls constrict around him. Wrecker's thrusting becomes erratic as his cock swells to maximum within you. He lets go of your other ankle and you lift yourself off, sinking to the floor on your knees with your back to him, chest heaving wildly.

Closing his hand around his cock soaked with your juices, he strokes himself hard. It's only a few moments before he lets out a choked gasp followed by a deep moan as he comes, painting your back with thick, ropy strands of his seed. He sinks back in his seat, covering his face with a hand, panting heavily. Utterly spent and basking in the afterglow of his long overdue orgasm, Wrecker slowly gets his pants back on. He looks down at you, sitting back on your feet, admiring his handiwork as his spend trickles its way down your back.

“Go clean her up, dí'kut,” Crosshair hisses. “She doesn't deserve to be left a mess.”

Wrecker gets up and heads to the kitchen, returning a short while later with a warm, damp towel. He attentively wipes down your entire back, then takes his hand and ruffles your hair affectionately. “Sorry about that, Y/N...I didn't ask if I could do that,” he says apologetically. “Are you okay?”

You get to your feet and reach for his chin, standing on tiptoe as he bows his head. Your lips meet his for a soft, loving kiss. “I'm fine, big guy. Might be walking funny for the next day or so, but...” The entire room erupts into laughter as Wrecker returns to his seat, blushing slightly. You wait for everyone to calm down before picking up the wine bottle. “All right! Who's next?” you say playfully, giving the bottle a spin. This time the bottle comes to a stop in front of Tech and Echo, pointing at neither. “Hm, well, this is a conundrum, indeed,” you muse.

“If I may, Y/N,” Tech interrupts, “there is a perfectly reasonable solution to what you perceive as a problem. Let us both gratify you, thus eliminating your need to choose. Echo, why don't you show Y/N the modifications to your scomp-link that we made? Perhaps we can also show her that new attachment I created. I am most eager to see it in action.”

“I'm not surprised you two have been up to clandestine operations,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But you've piqued my curiosity, and...I very much want to have both of you.”

“Excellent. I will return shortly, Y/N. Echo, help her get more comfortable on the floor; we will need the extra space,” Tech says as he rises from the couch, purposely readjusting himself so you can get a better sense of what he's got hidden under his blacks. “This will be worth your while, cyar'íka...I promise.”

As Tech heads upstairs to gather all the necessary equipment, Echo takes all the pillows off the couch and lays them on the floor. You walk over and sit next to him, his good arm wrapping around you. Slipping your hand down between his legs, you run your fingers gently over his fully primed cock, loving the little moan that escapes from him. His lips seek out yours as he lightly pushes himself into your hand, moaning once more when your tongue collides with his for an impassioned kiss.

“Oh, mésh'la, if you only knew how long I've dreamed of doing something like this with you...” he whispers hotly against your neck, planting a few open mouthed kisses there.

You let out a soft sigh at the touch of his lips, his kisses working their way down your neck to your collarbone. He lowers you just a little so he has easy access to a breast, his tongue gently licking a nipple, sending shivers down your spine. Echo grins as he closes his mouth around it, sucking lightly, relishing the sounds of your moans. You squeeze his cock firmly in return, his eyes tightly shut as he groans deeply.

“You want me to suck your cock, Echo? I can't wait to see what you have for me,” you purr, feeling the material of his blacks dampen under your fingertips.

“I do not think he wants to wait any longer to show you what he has in store for you,” Tech calls from the entrance to the living room. He's carrying a case and a small drawstring pouch with him. “Y/N, if you please, spread your legs for Echo so he can begin.” He pauses, and you see his brow furrow for a moment. “I...know we already have your consent, but I feel it prudent to ask you regardless...” He stops again and you see one of his hands tremble slightly.

Crosshair snickers as you get up and walk over to Tech. “What, now you lose your nerve, Professor Highbrow? She already said you can take her, so what the hell's your problem? Got limp dick syndrome, or something? You should forfeit your turn and let me –”

You whirl around, fury written all over your face as you approach Crosshair, who looks supremely amused with himself. As you stop in front of him, you grab the collar of his blacks and yank him up until he's a hair's breadth away from you, eyes locked on his. His eyes widen in genuine shock; he's never seen you this angry before. Hunter is about to spring into action to pull the two of you apart, but Wrecker puts a hand on his shoulder, curious to see how this is going to play out.

“Crosshair, shut your fucking mouth! I am so sick of you constantly ripping on Tech, trying to tear him down. Is it really necessary to try and destroy your brother's self-esteem?! You dare...in MY house?!,” you seethe. “Just for that, when it's your turn...I've already decided what you're going to do with me...and you'd better fucking follow through!”

You shove Crosshair back into his seat hard, letting go of his shirt. You look at the others, and they're all staring at you in disbelief, especially Tech, who remains rooted to the spot. Walking back over to him, you reach your hand up to gently cup his face, his eyes seeming larger than ever. “Now, what were you going to ask me?” you ask softly.

“Cyar'íka...” he starts, trying to regain composure and find his voice. “I would very much like it if you would orally pleasure me while Echo takes care of you. Would you also let me take you from behind?”

“For you, Tech, anything. You know...you didn't need to ask me for permission, but I'm happy you did. I just want to enjoy both you and Echo in every way possible.”

You retake your seat on the floor next to Echo, with Tech coming to sit beside you, putting the case and the pouch off to the side. “Spread yourself for me, Y/N, and relax. I think that beautiful pearl of yours needs some more loving,” Echo says as he positions himself between your legs. “This might feel a little strange at first. I'll start with this, then switch over to the new attachment.”

Tech leans down and rests a hand on the back of your neck as his lips graze across your cheek and down to your mouth where your lips meet his for a delicate kiss. Echo lightly rests his scomp-link on the hood of your clit, then activates it. You gasp as you feel gentle vibrations emitting from it, and Echo smiles, glancing up at Tech. “I'm glad you suggested we rewire this thing...I think she likes it!”

Echo swirls the scomp-link around your clit attentively, listening to you moan deeply as he touches every part of it. He can see you beginning to swell and grow harder for him with each pass, the sides of your clit especially sensitive. You lift your hips up into him, craving more stimulation and he obliges, upping the level of vibration. With his good hand, he pulls his blacks down enough to free his cock – thick, hard as durasteel, and craving your attention.

“Please, Y/N,” Echo softly moans. “Touch me...let me come for you,” he pleads.

He shifts a little so you can slip your hand down between his legs, taking his cock to slowly stroke it in an underhanded position. Echo sighs in pleasurable relief as your hand glides over the hot, turgid flesh, taking time to swirl your thumb over the head as more pre-cum steadily seeps from him. Tech, not wanting to be left out, takes your unoccupied hand and you look up at him, his eyes glazed over with arousal. He guides you down between his legs, and as your hand covers the conspicuous bulge, you squeeze gently, making him shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“Are you ready for me, cyar'íka?” Tech asks as he takes your hand, kissing your palm as he frees himself from his blacks, revealing the sublime and statuesque curvature of his lengthy cock. “I will let you set the pace,” he reassures you as he lets your hand go, shifting close to your mouth.

Closing your hand around his cock, the tip of your tongue gently trails its way underneath the head, earning you a stifled moan. Slowly, your tongue swirls around its entirety, getting a taste of pre-cum as you slip him into your mouth, letting your tongue glide along his shaft. You expertly corkscrew your hand around him as you find your rhythm, sucking and stroking him with vigor. “If you only knew how many times I imagined doing this with you...” Tech murmurs as he lets his hand rest gently on the back of your head.

The grasp on Echo's cock tightens as you stroke him a little faster, feeling the pulsing in your clit intensify with each pass of the scomp-link. The constant low moaning coming from Echo sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, and you feel your juices seeping out, dampening the pillow you're sitting on. You moan heavily around Tech's cock, the vibrations rewarding you with a hard flex and the sound of him choking back a deep-seated moan of his own. He rests a hand on your cheek, then pulls his cock out of your mouth, leaving you feeling strangely empty.

“You're too good at this, cyar'íka...I am already getting closer than I would like,” he pants as he sits back down, blinking heavily as he tries to recompose himself.

Echo's hand covers yours as he pulls himself back from your grasp, breathing hard. “I'm close, too, mésh'la...still want to...show you the best part...”

He takes the scomp-link away from your throbbing clit, taking the case lying next to Tech and opens it, revealing an instrument with two distinct curved parts to it – the larger part is considerably longer and thick, the smaller one much shorter and thin. Echo nimbly unscrews the scomp-link and replaces it with this new creation, holding his arm up so the others can see.

“The larger part goes inside you, and the smaller part stays outside and rests on your clit,” he explains once he catches his breath. “Both parts vibrate, and they also have a small range of movement to them, so they can simultaneously work your sweet spot and clit at the same time.”

Tech picks up the small drawstring pouch and opens it, taking out a bottle. “You may want to use this,” he advises, handing it to Echo. “It will make Y/N's entire experience that much more pleasurable.”

Echo applies a few drops of the lube to the attachment, spreading it evenly. He drips a little bit more onto your clit, letting it run down between your outer lips before he takes a finger and traces it around your entrance. As his fingertip makes its way just inside, a content moan rises from you, and Echo smiles. Satisfied you're ready to accept this new toy, he withdraws his finger and smears the residual wetness on his cock. He carefully nudges the head of the large end up against your entrance and eases it fully inside you. As promised, the head of the smaller end is flush with the underside of your clit – a perfect fit.

“I really want to see you come before Tech fucks you, mésh'la, but if it gets to be too much, tell me and I'll stop immediately.”

“Oh, fuck!” you gasp loudly as Echo activates the toy. “This isn't going to take me long!”

Echo keeps the level of vibration on its lowest to get you used to the feeling, the tip of each segment moving in tiny circles, alternating with a gentle upward massaging movement, perfectly mimicking someone's fingers and tongue. Involuntarily, your walls clench around the toy as it teases your sweet spot. You let out a lusty moan as the outer piece flicks gently under your clit, sending waves of fresh heat through your core.

Your eyes close as Tech's brilliant new toy works its magic, biting your lower lip as your hands come to your breasts, cupping them as you gently pull on your piercings. Echo increases the speed just a little more, a sharp cry coming from you as the pressure increases in your cleft and the buzzing in your clit becomes stronger, drawing you close to your peak. Tech smiles proudly, knowing his little invention works perfectly and is driving you wild.

Echo's hand strays between his legs once more to close around his cock, his arousal at a hair-trigger. He finds his rhythm quickly, his eyes locked on yours as he strokes himself hard, bucking his hips as he goes. Your head drops back against the couch cushion, arching your back and suppressing a small scream as Echo increases the intensity a third time. Tech takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it as your other hand remains on a breast, rolling and pinching your nipple.

Your clit becomes the epicenter of searing heat and electricity as the manipulation of your sweet spot triggers your inner walls to contract around the toy. Your legs begin to tremble, toes curling as you're nearing your climax with everyone watching you in fascination, waiting to see you come. Breath catching in your throat, you manage to utter, “So fucking close, Echo...you're going to make me come...”

“That's it, mésh'la, let it all go,” Echo groans as his cock pulses in his hand. “Come for me, Y/N...”

As your orgasm breaks, his name cascades from your lips in a heaving sob, a riptide of pleasure crashing violently through your body. The walls of your pussy constrict forcefully around the toy as you bear down. Rolling your hips madly, you cover your face with your hands as you keep riding the waves of your high. “No more, Echo, pull out...pull out...pull out!” you wail.

Echo shuts the toy off and removes it, a lewd wet sound following in its wake as a spring of your juices ejects all over his hand and cock. “By the Maker, Y/N,” he says, looking down in disbelief. Using the newfound wetness to his advantage, he strokes himself hard, moaning your name. You watch his balls tighten as he starts to come, spilling a considerable amount of his seed all over your stomach and pubic mound. Chest heaving with exertion, he sits back and gets himself tucked back into his blacks.

“It appears the toy did exactly what I designed it to do,” Tech says with a satisfied grin on his face. “You performed flawlessly, Y/N...how do you feel?”

“I'm...not sure I have the words, Tech. It's been a long time since I've come like that,” you admit sheepishly.

Wrecker passes the damp towel to Echo, who lovingly wipes you clean. His parting gift to you is a gentle kiss between your legs just above your clit, then he leans in to plant another kiss at the corner of your mouth as he lightly strokes your hair. “Thank you for everything, mésh'la...that was extraordinary,” he says, his voice laden with adoration. “I can't wait to watch you with Tech...you're in for a real treat,” he chuckles as he returns to your other side. “She's all yours, ner vod...”

Tech smiles and takes your chin in his hand, turning your head and leaning in to kiss you tenderly. You bring your hands up behind his neck, enticing him to leave a trail of kisses along your jaw, down your throat, all the way to your breasts. One of his hands reaches for a breast, closing over it as he traces his finger over your firm nipple, taking hold of your piercing. You let out a breathy moan as his eager tongue snakes out and flicks quickly over the other, holding the ring in his teeth. As Tech begins to gently pull on your piercings, your arousal renews with strong pulsing in your clit and an insistent fluttering deep in your pussy.

“You are hungry for all our attention tonight, aren't you, cyar'íka?” Tech says as he lets go of you, his silken voice low and sultry. “Get on all fours for me, and I'll share something else with you that is in desperate need of attention.”

As your rise to your knees, Tech pulls away the pillow soaked with your juices and replaces it with a larger one, wanting to maximize your comfort. You get into position for him and he reaches out, tracing his fingers down your spine, making you shiver and lift yourself up toward him as his hand reaches your ass. Taking both cheeks in his strong hands, he kneads them firmly, letting his fingers roam down a little until his thumbs are on either side of your outer lips. He gently parts your folds, looking down upon your entrance, moist with fresh wetness.

“Both Wrecker and Echo did an excellent job preparing you for me,” Tech states casually as he draws his index finger between your glistening lips. “Now we've learned that even something simple as playing with your nipples leaves you a soaking...” He slides his finger into you slowly, grinning as you let out a tiny moan. “...wet mess.”

Tech finds your sweet spot easily, teasing it in short strokes with his fingertip. Your eyes close and you let out a quiet sigh, a hand straying down between your legs to gently touch your clit, still partially swollen and sensitive from the last orgasm . Tech feels your pussy gently contract around his finger and he lets out a small groan as his cock stirs heavily. He pulls his finger out of you and slips it into his mouth, sucking it clean and marveling at the delicate balance of sweetness, salt, and acidity.

“Are you ready for me, Y/N? Will you come as violently for me as you did for Echo?”

You push your ass back toward him and he meets you halfway, letting you rub yourself along the front of his blacks, dampening them with your juices. Tech slides his pants past his knees, guiding his cock through your folds and over your clit, holding back a moan as your hand passes along the underside, your fingertips deftly caressing the tip, feeling a small amount of pre-cum emerge. He withdraws and then aligns himself with your entrance, taking your hips in his hands as he slowly pushes his way in. He's nearly as thick as Wrecker, and as he sinks himself deep into your succulent heat, Tech lets out the moan he's been trying to suppress.

“Fuck me, Tech,” you mewl, swirling your hips around him once he's fully seated within you. “You feel so fucking good...”

Tech feels pleasant heat rush to his face from your praise and he smiles, proud of himself for being able to please you like this. Now he starts to slowly rock his hips fore and aft, watching his cock effortlessly slip in and out of you, listening to your fervid cries growing steadily louder. You reach down to start rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, fingertips dancing lightly over it, making your legs twitch uncontrollably again. A shuddering groan comes from Tech as he feels your walls quiver around him, feeling like tiny kisses all along his cock.

You softly moan as Tech leans over you, propping himself up on one hand as the other comes up from underneath to cup one of your breasts. His long fingers easily manipulate your nipple and piercing, gently rolling and pulling the hardened flesh and its adornment. You feel another strong pulse in your clit and Tech groans quietly in your ear as the contraction that follows makes your walls squeeze against him tightly.

“Cyar'íka, move with me,” he whispers as he begins to sit up, pulling you with him. “Let me show you what you and I have done together in my dreams.”

As the two of you rise, Tech carefully shifts himself back onto his feet, not wanting to slip out of you. One of his arms is slung loosely around your hips with the other around your torso, his hand resting between your breasts. Resting on your knees, you straddle his lap with your hands on his thighs as he pulls you flush against him, the hand on your chest sliding up to gently close around your throat. His mouth comes to your ear and plants a tiny kiss, followed by more along your jaw. A deep moan emanates from your parted lips as Tech's other hand comes down between your legs, his graceful fingers brushing over your hot, swollen clit.

“I always wondered what it would feel like to fuck you while you sit in my lap,” Tech mumbles into your hair as he starts to buck his hips up into you once more. “Granted, I wanted to do this with you while in the cockpit of the Marauder...but this will suffice.”

You start to ride him, timing your descent perfectly with each hard upward thrust. Tech lets go of your throat and lets his hand gravitate down to your chest, cupping a breast as he begins to play with your nipple and piercing again. His fingers skillfully swirl over your clit at the same time, stoking the fires of arousal once more. Tech lets out a muffled moan against your neck as his cock is greeted with renewed wetness.

Your hands dig into his thighs as you bounce on his cock a little faster, the fingers working your clit keeping time. Luscious, tingling heat pools in that tiny singularity, begging for release. Tech turns his attention to your neck, hungrily nibbling and kissing the soft flesh, sending shivers down your spine. You gyrate your hips when he's nestled fully in you and he moans unabashedly as his cock begins to swell.

“That's the way, cyar'íka...such a good girl, letting us fuck you,” Tech says, his voice pouring into your ear like liquid silk.

He lets go of your breast and trails his fingertips up your chest before wrapping his hand lightly around your throat once more, holding your head steady as his hips snap up into you briskly. As you match his pace, you feel him getting tighter as he stretches your insides to their limit. He rubs your clit in tight circles, your moaning constant as he starts to shorten his thrusts, the head of his cock perfectly massaging your sweet spot. Tech squeezes the sides of your neck slowly and you shut your eyes as your breath hitches in your throat, every nerve ending in your clit ready for the ultimate liberation.

“So close, Tech...make me come,” you gasp.

“I thought you'd never ask,” Tech replies flippantly.

He buries himself all the way in you and holds still, his fingers flicking over your clit as you near your peak. His thighs tremble against you as he feels your pussy clutching his cock like a vise, requiring every ounce of his restraint to not release before you do. Tech takes your clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the flesh of your hood over it as he strokes firmly, drawing out a few last gasps from you.

As he loosens his grip on your throat, an intense cry bursts from you as the floodgates open and he tips you over the edge, your nails digging into his thighs as the nectar of euphoria flows through you. Writhing your hips madly, Tech wraps his arm around your waist to hold you steady, unable to hold himself back any longer. He swiftly withdraws, then cants his hips up into you, relishing at the obscene wet sounds his cock is making as he drives himself in deeply. Mouth at your ear, Tech's low moaning sends shivers down your spine, knowing he's just about to come.

“May I...” he grunts, and you feel his cock swell and stiffen.

You bring a hand up around the back of his neck and turn your head towards his, pulling him down for an ardent kiss. “Do it,” you command. “Be my good boy and fill my pussy...”

Tech hides his face in your hair as he thrusts hard for a final time, letting his breath out forcefully as his orgasm overtakes him, moaning your name repeatedly. His cock flexes heavily in your cleft, and you whimper as you feel the sudden heat of his seed coating your walls. At long last, Tech releases you. Falling forward onto your hands, he backs out of you, juices steadily dripping between your legs onto the pillow underneath.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Echo asks, reaching out to take you by the shoulder and help you upright.

“Better than fine,” you reply breathlessly as you shift around to face the others. “Here's a little something extra for you, boys. Consider it an encore...”

You part your legs enough so they can clearly see between them, your outer lips swollen and spread wide. Biting your lip as you bear down, everyone watches transfixed as Tech's thick, creamy load slips out of you. You look over at Tech, now sitting back on the couch as he recovers from his high. Unsteadily, you get to your feet and go to him, taking his chin in your hand as you look into his beautiful golden brown eyes. He reaches up to touch your cheek with his finger, a relieved smile on his face.

“That was...extraordinary, cyar'íka. Thank you for letting me –”

You cut him off with a gentle kiss. “No need to thank me, Tech. If anything, I should be thanking you.” You pause for a moment, a grin creeping across your face. “However, I think you and I need to have a chat about an escapade in the Marauder's cockpit sometime...”

Wrecker snorts and bursts out laughing, causing Tech to immediately start blushing. Everyone else joins in as you sigh and shake your head, reaching for the towel to wipe yourself down. You look around for the wine bottle, stopping as your eyes meet Hunter's. He's sitting calmly in his seat, watching your eyes as they travel down toward his groin. As if he's read your mind, he spreads his legs apart for you a little, resting his hand on the mouthwatering bulge under his blacks.

“There's no need, ad'íka. It's my turn,” he says, pulling the waist of his blacks down just a little so the head of his cock is visible. “I'm serious about wanting to have those exquisite tits of yours squeezed around my cock. But first, be a love and let me have your mouth for awhile. Seems to me your pussy needs a break,” he chuckles.

Hunter swings his legs up onto the generous couch on which he's sitting, stretching out as he lies down, sliding a thumb under the waistband of his blacks. Looking over at you, he smiles and starts stroking himself through the material, closing his eyes as he starts thinking about sliding his cock into your mouth, watching your tongue swirl around the tip. You make your way over to him, wedging yourself between his muscular thighs. Curling your hands into his pants, you start sliding them down his hips, your lips curled into a seductive grin.

“Show me what you've got for me, Hunter,” you say as you get his blacks down to his thighs, holding back a moan as his lengthy cock is unveiled, thick with a gentle upward curve. Once you get his blacks off, you lay your palms on his thighs, running them up toward his groin as you lean forward to gently kiss his tip. “Just as beautiful as your brothers,” you murmur.

Starting at the base, your tongue draws its way up his shaft, tenderly swirling along the underside of the head. Hunter moans softly and rests a hand on the back of your head as he spreads his legs wider for you, resting one foot on the floor. Taking his cock in one hand, you bring him to your lips, kissing the tip once more before you guide him into your mouth, sucking lightly on the head. You ease him farther into your mouth as your free hand cups his balls, palming the firm, swollen orbs carefully.

You pull him out of your mouth with a slight pop, licking your lips. “Mm, look how full you are, honey. I bet you want to blow a huge load all over my tits, don't you?” Now you squeeze his balls just a little, a deep groan rolling out of him. “Gotta say, Hunter, I figured you would have wanted my pussy, but your creativity is fucking hot...”

Sliding him back into your mouth, your tongue flattens out along the underside, letting you inch him in slowly. Your eyes meet his, pupils fully dilated and shining brightly with fascination and arousal as he watches his cock disappear around your lips. Taking in as much of him as you can, one hand closes around him again to start stroking, twisting its way along as you hollow out your cheeks, sucking on him hard.

Hunter groans and lifts his hips up into you as you pull away, a long strand of saliva connecting your tongue to the tip. You close your index finger and thumb firmly around his cock, swirling up and over him, taking time to massage the head as your tongue lavishes attention upon his length, flicking over the small slit as a bead of pre-cum oozes its way out. Back into the hot confines of your mouth he goes, this time picking up the pace to stroke him a little faster while you give most of your attention to the heated, swollen flesh.

“Fuck,” he moans softly. “I thought you'd never do this for me, Y/N...”

One of his hands comes to rest on the back of your head once more, and now he begins to gently buck his hips as you let him fuck your mouth, pushing in deeper as you close your hand fully around him. Your other hand returns to give his balls attention, rolling and squeezing them while your index finger strokes the fine, soft flesh of his perineum, evoking a gasp and a choked breath from Hunter.

You can feel his leg starting to tremble against you a little as you draw him closer to his climax, and you chuckle with him in your mouth. The vibrations travel along his shaft, causing him to flex in your hand, and when the head tightens and swells, you exhale sharply through your nose, pulling him out. You're slavering all over his cock, curling the tip of your tongue as you withdraw, showing Hunter just exactly how much you love giving sloppy blowjobs.

You shift yourself back a little, placing a hand on Hunter's thigh as your head dips down, your tongue lovingly passing over his balls. Your other hand comes to rest on his other thigh, and reflexively, Hunter encircles his fingers around yours, while his other hand reaches to take a hold of your hair. Slowly your lips close around one of his balls, sucking a little to pull it into your mouth. Hunter closes his eyes and grits his teeth as he tries to restrain a deep-seated moan of pleasure.

He's so full that you almost can't fit it in your mouth, but as you engulf him completely, you suck on him tenderly, filled with anticipation over how much he's going to come for you. Hunter lets go of your hand and takes his cock, still wet with your saliva. He starts stroking himself, watching you intently as you let him go with a wet smack of your lips. As you take his other testicle in, he comes undone, moaning deeply as you sensually tease him. You can feel him beginning to tighten up in your mouth, and you release him, sitting back on your feet, flashing a sassy grin as you wipe your lips with a finger.

Hunter pulls himself up and you hear a low growl building as he suddenly reaches for your shoulder, pushing you down onto your back. Quickly, he climbs on top of you, his cock pulsating as he gets himself into position. Your heart races with excitement over his powerful show of dominance, but also with curiosity over how it will feel to have him gliding between your breasts. Hunter takes a breast in each hand, massaging them softly as he takes in this new vantage point.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are, Y/N? You're like something out of a wet dream,” he confesses as his thumbs trace over your nipples, mesmerized by the gleaming steel of your piercings. He looks up and over at Tech, holding out his hand. “Gonna need that lube, vod. Throw it over here.”

Tech pitches the small bottle of lube across to Hunter, who catches it easily. He flicks open the cap and drizzles the lube generously onto your sternum. You let him rub the lube between and all over your breasts, groaning happily as he massages your heated flesh. As he finishes, he takes his cock by the base, rapping it firmly on your chest, a wicked grin on his face. You start pushing your breasts together until they're just touching him, a little unsure of how close you should be.

“Always wondered what this would feel like,” he murmurs as he starts to rock his hips slowly, pushing his cock between the cleft, letting out a soft sigh as he easily glides through.

Hunter looks down at you, seeing the enthrallment on your face as he pushes his cock closer to your mouth. Briefly, he pulls himself out and holds himself within reach of your mouth, easing just the tip in a little as you suck on him gently. Back between your breasts he goes, and you push them much closer together this time to create more friction. He teases you, the head of his cock coming close to your chin and mouth, and you let your tongue hang out a little, trying to lick him.

“Tech's right, ad'íka...you're starving tonight...you want me to feed you?” he questions, voice smoky with passion.

“Give me everything you've got, Hunter,” you reply.

Hunter smiles and licks his lips as he continues driving his cock between your breasts, this time adjusting himself so he can push his way into your mouth easily. You take him in and he watches as your gaze meets his, an incredibly arousing sight to see you suck his cock so easily. His heart goes into overdrive as he feels you press yourself tightly around him, and he wonders if your pussy feels anywhere near as good as this.

Faster he begins to thrust, and low moaning progressively becomes heavy as Hunter feels himself rapidly approaching his edge. Your eyes are locked on his and again, you open your mouth to show him your eager tongue. Seeing you so willing and trusting turns him on even more, and he holds his breath when his balls begin to tighten, knowing his orgasm is imminent. You can see his thighs beginning to shake slightly as he comes close and you push your breasts against him as far as they'll go.

“M-mésh'la, hold still, I'm gonna come,” he gasps, surging forward a few more times before you feel his cock flex, watching as he starts to unload.

Hunter moans loudly as thick streams of his hot seed launch all over your chest, neck, and chin before he pulls his cock from between your breasts and strokes it a few more times, sending the rest into your mouth. You swallow every last bit, your tongue slightly tingling as you taste the salty, slightly bitter profile of his spend, momentarily grateful he chose not to come solely in your mouth. He carefully climbs off you and reaches for his pants, tugging them back on before he leans down and kisses you affectionately.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says quietly, moving your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “That was incredible...I would love to do that with you again sometime.”

You take his face between your hands, bringing your lips to his for a few velvety kisses. “Any time, Hunter...never done anything like that before, but it's getting added to the “must do” list,” you laugh.

Hunter gives you one last kiss before excusing himself to the kitchen to get another clean towel. You're sitting propped up on your elbows when he returns, and you close your eyes, letting your head loll back as he cleans you up. The warm dampness of the towel and Hunter's tender ministrations leave you feeling relaxed and perfectly sated. You inhale deeply, collecting your thoughts before you finally finish this game and set Crosshair in his place.

Without opening your eyes, your voice takes on a startling edge. “Crosshair, be my good boy...come over here and kneel before me. Now.”

The chatter among the others stops and Hunter retakes his seat on the couch, his attention fixed on Crosshair, who's looking across the room at you. As you bring your head back up, your eyes slowly open and you turn to look at him, his normally bitter expression erased and replaced by one of uncertainty, his cheeks red with uncharacteristic embarrassment. He's rattled by the glacial look you're giving him, and he swallows hard, looking at his brothers one by one, especially Tech.

“I strongly suggest you comply, Crosshair. It would be unwise to arouse cyar'íka's anger once more,” Tech says with a vein of mirth in his voice, a sly grin on his face.

As you sit up, you move to the edge of the couch, spreading your legs so Crosshair can get a good look at what he's been coveting all night long. The roseate bloom of your pussy lay before him, his longing for you coming to its summit as he sees your glistening folds, his cock throbbing insistently. Resting a hand daintily upon your knee, you reach out and beckon to him, smiling sweetly. But Crosshair is no fool; he sees through your façade, knowing you're up to something.

He gets up out of his chair haltingly and does as he's told, stopping before you and sinking to the floor on his knees. You can see his breathing becoming shallower, his dark eyes shining brightly with deep yearning. You bring a hand under his chin and lift his head up as you lean in, your other hand running through his silver hair. Your lips brush softly over his, and he doesn't bother trying to hold back a small moan. Now your mouth seeks his, tongues sparring as you converge for a fiery kiss.

“That's my boy...” you whisper heatedly. “You're going to learn a little humility and accept the consequences of your earlier transgression...starting by licking my pussy until every trace of Tech is gone.”

A brief look of disgust flashes across his face at your choice of words, but the desire to please you and be praised for it is overwhelming. As you look down at him, your expression softens as his hands make their way up your legs slowly. Crosshair never takes his eyes off yours, his long fingers caressing your silky skin as they rise over your knees and over your inner thighs. The corner of his mouth turns upward into a tiny crooked grin, knowing you're enjoying this.

Crosshair gives pause as he reaches your pubic mound, suddenly not wanting to proceed lest you think of something else to deflate his ego. His eyes search yours pleadingly, looking for the sign that he should continue. He wants nothing more than to touch you, let his tongue work its magic on the tantalizing swell of your pearl, and draw you to another orgasm. Hesitantly, his fingertips stroke the soft flesh of your outer lips, and when you don't stop him, his thumb rests on your piercing before he retracts the hood of your clit.

You let out a pleasurable sigh as you watch him close his eyes and lean in, his mouth closing over your clit. He wastes no time in showing you how skilled he is, sucking firmly while his tongue teases and massages the hypersensitive underside. His index finger makes its way to your slick entrance and slides in with no resistance. It's quickly followed by the middle, and you let out a gasp as he carefully threads in his ring finger, your pussy feeling like it's about to split in two.

Crosshair opens his eyes and looks up at you for signs of discomfort, but sees none. He starts moving his fingers in and out, the wet sounds coming from you are almost profane. He knows exactly where to touch you, curling his fingertips upward to manipulate your sweet spot as he pulls his mouth away, letting his tongue flick expertly across your clit. The divine heat and pulsation start you anew on the path to your climax, and he feels your walls starting to close around him.

“I think someone's hungrier than I am tonight, boys!��� you exclaim, exhaling sharply as your needling leads Crosshair to pull out his fingers, coated with both your juices and the remnants of Tech's. “You're desperate, Crosshair. Lick them clean,” you order.

Jeering laughter erupts from Wrecker, clearly enjoying watching his brother being put in his place. “She's got you there, eh, Cross?! About time someone taught you a lesson!”

Crosshair's eyes narrow as heat spreads like wildfire through his face, blushing furiously. He sticks his index finger in his mouth, sucking it clean, the commingling of salt and bitter acidity not as vile as he expected. He licks his middle and ring fingers, watching your face for the sign of approval he aches for. You smile and point down at your pussy, slick with fresh arousal. Choking on a groan, his hands fly to your thighs and grip hard as he buries his head between your legs once more.

He licks a wide path with the flat of his tongue through your slit, gathering up everything he can. You rest your hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to do it again. Moaning softly against your folds, he makes another pass before his lips close around your clit and piercing once more. This time he suckles gently, feeling his cock twitch hard underneath his blacks as you utter his name. He brings a hand down between his legs and feels how damp the material is, badly wanting to sink his cock into you in any way possible.

Crosshair gives your clit a loving kiss and looks to you once more. “Was...that all right?” he asks. You don't answer right away, instead moving in to taste yourself on him, licking at the corner of his mouth before lightly kissing his forehead. “C-cyaré, please...are you satisfied?” he implores.

His words from earlier in the night come back to haunt him as you chuckle softly. “Not just yet...but give it some time. On your feet, Crosshair...show me that cock of yours and let me make fantasy a reality.”

He rests his hands on your knees as he slowly rises, his lithe, muscular body seeming taller than ever as he looks down at you. Your eyes lock on his as your hands slide their way up his thighs, and you feel him tremble slightly in anticipation. You palm his cock through the fabric, feeling how hot and impatient he is as you lean forward, strategically planting ethereal kisses as your hands take the waistband of his blacks and ease them down. The graceful curve of his impressively thick length is unveiled, the head glossy with pre-cum.

Crosshair licks his lips as he watches you take him by the base, your tongue emerging to lightly trace its way over his frenulum before it swirls over the tip, drawing in his wetness. His breath catches in his throat as you take him in your mouth, his level of touch starvation evident as you feel him beginning to swell a little from the most basic attention you're giving him. You suck on him gently for a few moments before withdrawing, and he brings a hand to your face, cupping it tenderly. Closing your eyes, your hand comes up over his, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“Cyaré, tell me how to please you,” he begs, inwardly cursing himself for feeling so needy and vulnerable.

You let go of his hand and slip it between his legs, taking him by the balls and squeezing firmly. Crosshair groans and bites his lip, moving his hand to the back of your head as your other hand grasps his cock. “Begging is beneath you, Crosshair,” you coolly reply. “Here's the deal. You're going to blow your load on my face, and then you're going to lick it up.”

Hunter raises an eyebrow in surprise as he looks over at you, and you hear Echo mutter, “oh, Maker,” as Tech covers his face with his hand, desperately trying not to laugh. You look over at Wrecker and he's sitting there silent, mouth agape and eyes wide. Crosshair feels the heat of embarrassment crawling its way up his neck and into his ears and face. He didn't expect this from you, and now he finally regrets his egregious behavior.

“Just one more thing, love...don't swallow!”

With that, you release the grip on his balls, rolling them in your palm as the hand on his cock moves it way up his length, closing over the tip to gently massage it. Crosshair moans softly and his fingers wind around your hair as your lips close around him, slowly easing him in. Your hand slides up his shaft, joining your mouth as you move your head to and fro, sucking tenaciously. He can't tear his eyes away from you as more of his cock disappears, chills running down his spine as you moan deeply around him. Cautiously, he starts to thrust into your mouth, curious to see how much of him you can take.

You accommodate him easily at first, your hand controlling the depth of his progress, but he soon starts to push in more aggressively. Tears prick the corner of your eyes unbidden as he moves in too deeply, triggering your gag reflex. You pull back, salivating wildly all over the head of his cock and for a split second, you catch just a hint of smug satisfaction on his face. Squeezing his balls roughly in retaliation, he lets out a hiss as your hand picks up the extra wetness and grips around him tightly, stroking him hard. Crosshair's thighs tense up, his arousal mounting exponentially as he starts bucking his hips toward you, wishing it was your pussy he was fucking instead of your hand.

“That's the way, baby,” you croon gently. “Such a good, obedient boy, wanting to come hard all over his cyaré's face...”

Crosshair moans heatedly at your words, especially the Mando'a term of endearment. He pumps his cock through your skilled hand, groaning deeply as his tip pushes through the tight ring of your fingers. Visions of having you all to himself and feeling how tight your pussy is for him race through his mind, and it's not long before his other hand joins yours, grasping his cock as his thrusting intensifies. You slowly ease your hand off him until he's fully in control, stroking himself vigorously as he chases his climax.

Now with both hands free, you turn your attention to his balls, which are already starting to tighten. You take one in each hand, rolling your thumbs over them, massaging lightly as Crosshair's breathing becomes rapid and shallow. As you squeeze his balls again, this time with care, his free hand gravitates to the top of your head to hold you steady. A low groan builds deeply in his chest as he feels himself drawing close to his orgasm, cock swelling firmly in his hand. He closes his eyes and brings his hand up to start quickly stroking the first few inches, moaning your name ardently.

“So close, ner cyaré... Let me come... Please let me come,” he gasps, legs trembling as he forces himself to hold on until you grant him permission.

You shift back a little to give him space and close your eyes. “I release you, Crosshair!”

He deftly strokes his cock a few more times and feels the coil in his pelvic floor unwind, a deep moan pouring out of him as he begins to come. Hot streams of his seed eject all over your forehead, nose, lips and chin, covering your face like a spectral mask. Breathing hard, Crosshair pulls away from you, hastily pulling his blacks up and tucking himself back in. Not forgetting the other half of your directive, he gathers his courage and sets aside feelings of revulsion, leaning forward and taking you by the shoulders.

He's never tasted himself before now, but curiosity and the driving need to satisfy you get the better of him. His hot tongue starts at your lips, licking them clean with a single pass. Hunter chuckles quietly as he watches Crosshair grimace, the salty bitterness an unpleasant surprise. He returns to your chin, then quickly passes over your nose and forehead, lapping up the remnants of his spend. You open your eyes and see he's pulled away from you, a look of serious aversion on his face as he's fighting the urge to spit out his load.

“Have you learned your lesson, Crosshair?” you say with great merriment. “Judging by that sour face, I'd say you have. Am I correct?” He nods, and you get to your feet, wrapping one arm around his slim waist, the other around his shoulders. He looks down at you and you can see his eyes silently beseeching you to hurry. “Feed me, love...I want to know how you taste.”

You open your mouth, tongue resting on your bottom lip as Crosshair lowers his head, opening his mouth when he's within reach. A quiet moan emanates from you as his tongue touches yours, the creamy pool of his seed passing from him to you. Curling your tongue back into your mouth, you swallow all of it as Crosshair closes his eyes and sighs softly. Your hand trails its way up the back of his neck until you're cradling his head, and you moan faintly into his mouth as his lips connect with yours for an amatory kiss.

“Now...I'm satisfied. See, I knew you would bend to my will. All it took was the proper motivation. Well behaved boys will always be rewarded...miscreants will not. It's that simple.” Your fingertip traces its way along the lines of his tattoo, his eyes meeting yours. “Such a good boy you are, Crosshair. My good boy.”

Crosshair's hand passes down your spine until he reaches your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks firmly as he seeks out your mouth for a passionate kiss. You hold onto him tighter as his tongue and yours meet, his hunger for you not yet slaked as he takes your tongue between his teeth and gently nips at it. You groan softly as you start growing wet again, and you can feel Crosshair's cock stir once more. A soft cough behind you interrupts the moment, and you turn to see Hunter looking at you with a gentle smile of approval.

“Oh...right. Game's over, lads. Everybody wins,” you laugh.

“What, no second round, mésh'la?” Wrecker jokes as he stands up and stretches. “I think I'm ready for another go!”

“No way, big man. Not until I've had another shower and a little sleep...you've all worn me out. So if you'll excuse me, I'll –”

You let out a yelp as Crosshair reaches under your legs and picks you up. “Then let's get you cleaned up and in bed, cyaré...as far as we're concerned, the night is still young,” he says devilishly, turning to walk out of the living room with you.

“Crosshair, wait.” He stops as he gets into the main hallway, and you look over his shoulder. “I don't want to sleep alone tonight, boys. Come on.”

*****

As you exit your bathroom still combing out your hair, you see Crosshair and Tech already under the covers of your gargantuan bed, waiting for you to occupy the space between them. The other three are all sitting at the foot of it half undressed, their shirts slung over the back of a nearby chair. You stop and flash all of them a flirtatious grin, and all of them return it with carnal smiles of their own.

“You said there wasn't room for all of us in here, Y/N,” Echo remarks with amusement.

“I was being facetious, Echo. This bed can support half the Hutt family, and then some!”

“Then we are in no danger of having it collapse,” Tech interjects. “Come to bed, cyar'íka...we all very much would like to continue the bonding process with you.”

He holds up the covers for you, and you see that both he and Crosshair are fully naked and partially aroused. You slip between them, Crosshair pressing himself against your side as he nuzzles your neck contentedly. Tech slings his arm around your waist, kissing your cheek softly. Echo and Wrecker reach for Hunter as they all lie down, settling in the spaces between you and the twins.

Crosshair closes his eyes, laughing quietly. “You owe me 10 credits, Tech. I told you we'd all fit.”

[wyvernest]

open arms | fantasy AU

pairing: witcher*!miguel x f!reader

> In Sapkowski's works, "witchers*" are beast hunters who are given supernatural abilities at a young age to battle wild beasts and monsters.

warnings: smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected piv, cowgirl & a bit of missionary, mentions of possible infidelity, slight angst at the end? very slight

summary: miguel returns to the reader after months of wandering the Continent, and she welcomes him with open arms

Every time you hear a horse trotting on the stone-streets of the village, your heart flutters wildly in your chest. Maybe it's him.

Only most of the time, it isn't. It's always just a soldier or a tradesman. 

No. His arrival is incomparable . When it's him, the whole village echoes with the deep, steady sounds of his horse's galloping. He never slows down, until he reaches the very wooden gates of the settlement. Comes by with a storm, a strong gust that then leaves as swiftly as it arrived.

And sometimes, you almost wish another monster would start terrorizing the village. Nothing too perilous, of course, but grave enough so that the guards wouldn't try to take care of it. So that they'd wait for a Witcher.

But alas, it stays a dream. He has for sure found some other fairer maiden in the south. Yet you're still here, unwed and long-time devoted to such a cold hearted man.

But how can a cold heart hold you so? How can it make you feel so warm, so adored? Must be some kind of sorcery.

And despite your unfruitful attempts to forget the hunter, on one gloomy evening, you couldn't help but jolt to your window at yet another horse clanking its hoofs on the pavement. 

Your heart races. A cloaked man. You can't see his face, but his stature is very telling. It can't be him. He gets off his horse. He enters the tavern across the road.

You release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in your chest, mentally slapping yourself for running to see who it is so hastily. You'd almost want to smack him for all the cold months he's made you endure without him, without a single word from him.

But you can't. Whatever’s holding your hand back is stronger than any pale vengeance, it's what made you rush to your window, what now made you run to your bedchamber to pick and choose your prettiest outfit.

It's nearing midnight when you hear a confident knock on your door. Formalities. He knows he could kick the whole frame down in all courtesy and you'd still jump in his arms. 

You try to act surprised.

“Miguel!” You tear yourself away from your working table, just for a second before stopping in your tracks. 

What if he doesn't want you anymore? And he's come to grace you with the very news of it?

He rushes to you instead; one, two strides and he's across the room with his arms around you. Not with a teary, hearty expression, but with the desperate, deep sigh of a man who had finally filled his lungs with fresh air after being buried in ice cold waters for years.

“I've missed you, I-” 

You wanted to go on about how you were first afraid he'd found someone else, then how that fear turned into an image of him falling in battle, but he stopped you.

With his face in his big, warm hands, his lips meet yours in an almost barbaric kiss. If you hadn't had him in other ways before, you'd swear he was a man starved. But you're aware of how patient he can be. Sometimes.

He tries not to break it, but it's slightly difficult with his left hand now down your back and his right clutching your prettiest skirts to the back of your thighs as he lifts you up with nearly frightening ease. 

His steps almost shake wooden floorboards of the house as he enters the bedroom, with you glued to his chest.

Your hands are running through his hair, a feeling you've missed so ardently. Your palms, with nothing but the memory of his soft, raven strands in them, used to feel as if whipped with burning lashes, where loving his touch had been.

“I need to have you. Let me have you,” He speaks in your face, his voice dripping with a roughness you've only ever heard from him after a hard won fight, tired yet still potent. 

In response, you start twisting your delicate fingers into his collar, as if you could simply drag the garments down from him. Not before a scorching heat blazes in his eyes at your acceptance, he places you on the soft mattress and starts ridding himself of his armor. Pretty light one, you mentally note. Bastard, he knew he'd be coming to see me. Came half ready.

As his tanned body starts coming to the warm light of candles, you study his form. He had changed. His shoulders are bigger, his arms are thicker. As a whole, he looks stronger. Your panties soak at the sight.

He sits on the bed and places you on his lap, pleased with himself, and you suddenly feel as meek and shy as you were the first time he had you.

You feel him heat up beneath you as your lips explore each other in the most tender yet passionate dance you never thought you would need the same way you need air.

The softest of moans echoes in your throat, encouraging him to push your thighs apart over his groin. Hot palms run over your middle to the swell of your ass and back to your shoulders.

The hardening bulge in his pants brushes onto your bare, glistening pussy, and he feels your slickness through the thin material.

You try to take the reins with kisses on his cheeks and neck while slowly grinding on his crotch. He can't help but send a rough smack on your ass, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“I like having you all over me like this.” he admits as you drop your weight on him, no longer supported by your elbows, relying on gravity itself to mould you together the best it can, two desperate lovers mangled into each other’s limbs like roses sprouting upon the same rod.

A faint smile blooms its way onto his lips, his heavy-lidded, crimson eyes inescapably drunk on you. He’s looking at you like you’re his very heart and soul, the last slither of hope for life in a place filled with nothing but death. A reminder for him that his hands were not only meant to break necks and bathe in blood, but to love and hold you, so dearly, so perfectly.

Heart swelling with joy and sincere infatuation, you seal your lips with his, urged by an uncontrollable impulse to taste him as if he’s the oxygen you need to breathe. His lips feel soft and tender as they move against yours, hands naturally snaking to cup his face and hold him in the dearest way you can.

The moment you break away you feel utterly intoxicated. His now rock-hard dick nudges at your pulsing cunt, begging for your attention.

Lifting yourself from him and untangling his sturdy arms from around your waist, you lower your dripping cunt onto his still clothed erection, anchored with a knee on each side of his ample thighs. He watches closely, hypnotised by the way you begin rubbing yourself onto him, the outline of his cock grazing back and forth between your folds without entering you.

He fails to restrain a grunt which you can only mirror with a whine of your own as his dick twitches against your clit, your legs nearly abandoning you at the memory of the orgasms he fucked out of you on the other nights, when he came banging on your door less tired.

Something downright filthy about the picture stirs you further, driving you to submit yourself to his pleasure completely.

He grabs at your hips, guiding their sway, making little to no effort to claim you, having you simply dry hump him for sport while he’s comfortably laying back on the soft cushion.

That only until he finally deems your performance enough to satisfy him, and twists you around, fucking you into his mattress until you're soaked in his come, you imagine.

You grind against him at an idle pace, rising and falling onto his raging boner, beads of precome already staining his pants where his tip presses against its confinement. Placing your hands on his navel, you feel his feverish skin and the trail of coarse hair that disappears below the waistband.

The featherlight touch of your fingers slipping underneath his shirt makes him dizzy and unbearably needy. You start rocking your hips back and forth over the length of his hard cock, using his firm abdomen for support.

His eyes follow your movements, the languid strokes of your hips and the soft bounce of your tits underneath your night dress.

Warm, large hands creep up your sides, skating beyond the dip of your middle and up beneath the cotton of your one and only piece of clothing.

His palms tense just below your heaving breasts, their touch unbelievably addictive. You automatically arch your back to lean closer to him, wordlessly imploring him to put an end to his teasing.

“Take it off, 'wanna see your tits.” his eyes motioning for you to undress and throw the garments anywhere across the room. You feel your face heat up and cunt clench at his bold request.

Without any protest you comply, managing not to halt your grinding while your arms cross over head, disposing of the top while missing the way his pupils expand at the sight.

His hands latch onto your breasts accompanied by a hitched breath of yours, fondling and squeezing them together, veins bulging in his massive arms.

Right when you try applying a tad more pressure onto his leaking cock he grunts, signaling you to carry on just like that. You abuse the newfound weakness, glancing down only to be met with the broad head inching out of his pants with every drive of your hips. It twitches into the snug warmth of your damp folds, a telltale warning that he's close.

You speed up, confident that you may finally witness his climax without the drowning haze of your own. The dream swiftly dissolves into euphoria as he grabs your waist, swiftly switching positions and getting on top of you.

He enters you harshly, and his thrusts are furious. He doesn't need much more to reach his end, as he guides you into raw, carnal bliss, the girth of his dick spasming along your damp pussy adding to the tightening knot in your womb.

The frail bed creaks and trembles under his force, as his head comes down to nestle in the crook of your neck, his whole body nearly veiling you completely.

He comes with a thunderous groan, kissing your neck with tender, wet lips before slipping out and letting himself fall back lazily on the bed.

You're quick to nestle yourself beside him, head on his heaving chest.

“I've missed you.” he rasps, ever so slightly gasping for air.

“Where have you been?” you speak softly, yet you accentuate the question by running your hand over his toned chest, then up by his jaw, hoping it'll break him.

“Everywhere I was needed.” he takes in a deep breath, “Everywhere but here.”

You chuckle, tightening your embrace, as much as you can. Even though you're well aware the whole town will probably throw you dirty looks for months after seeing him yet again enter your house at the hour of the wolf, you didn't care.

You even found it in yourself to feel lucky with his visits. With him. You hadn't given yourself to any other man in town, other than him. But he wasn't from here. And that made him burst with pride.

“You sure you haven't been messing around while I was gone? Am I gonna have to fight a godless bastard for your hand?”

“Have you been messing around?” you ask, with pleading eyes, glistening in the low light. He looks down at you.

“I might have gotten a bit lonely at times.” He jokes, and although something stings you harshly at the thought, you decide to trust him. Miguel was many things, but a dishonorable man wasn't one of them.

You playfully push him away, just an excuse to feel the meaty muscles of his arm and stomach in the process. As if you needed an excuse.

"I'd fight any witless whoreson if it meant having you for myself properly."

You fall into slumber soundly, lulled by the soft yet raspy sound of his voice, whispering sweet nothings to you about all the things he would do, if only he wasn't bound by his lifelong duty.

I WANNA WRITE MORE WITH THIS CROSSOVER ‼️‼️