#Irregular Hunter X

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

Scan of the Day but not Scan of the Day since I'm still technically on hiatus...

I still haven't had the patience to clean up the very speckled and dotted X settei, so I did the next best thing for today. Instead, have 3 cleaned up Day of Sigma pieces, featuring X, Zero, Sigma and Vile. All in nice high quality.

Happy 30th Anniversary to the X Series, and 36th to Mega Man!

Scanned from: My Production Art Stash

HQ Scans: X and Zero - https://imgbox.com/297Cn2o4 Sigma - https://imgbox.com/FPQl4Lma Vile - https://imgbox.com/0YH0T1JP

[gogoani]

The Most Loyal Anime Characters

So, who is the most Loyal?

[randomblognumberfuck]

Random ass color edits I never showed in world LOL

I like the scrapped and non canon reploids

[daessai]

I’ve spent too long on this.

[rockman-x]

IH X is so scrunkly mipy scrimblo bimblo cutesies adorbs

[littlefireball]

ʏʜ|ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʀᴇᴅ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴏᴅ (ᴀ/ᴍ)

ʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʀᴇᴅ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴏᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ (ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛᴛ)|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ|ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴋɪꜱꜱ|ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ|ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ, ᴇxᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ, ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴀʟ| ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ & ᴄᴏʟʟᴀᴘꜱᴇᴅ|ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ꜱᴀᴠᴇꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx

⚠️ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ!! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ ⚠️

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9ᴋ

“Blood…lungs…eyes…kidney” Yunho transformed into a wolf and sprinted through the dense forest. His strong body seemed to be infused with the power of the wild, and with each stride, he kicked up dust, creating a howling wind.

His fur was like shadows in the night, dancing in the wind as he raced. The corners of his mouth curled slightly, revealing bloodthirsty fangs, and his eyes sparkled with the fierce gaze of a wild wolf. His eyes were deep brown, filled with the essence of savagery and bloodshed.

Intense hunger consumed him, driving him into madness. His mouth repeated the same words over and over again, his mind filled with the tantalizing taste of human flesh. His thoughts were chaotic, alternating between confusion and clarity, running aimlessly through the forest, allowing his desires to replace reason.

"Hmm?" Suddenly, the aroma of food wafted through the air, a combination of roasted meat and creamy flavor. Yunho halted his rapid pace and followed the scent, leading him to a small cottage not far away.

"Find it..."

—-----

"Little red, go get the medicine for your grandma."

"Alright." Your grandmother caught a cold a few days ago, and because she has trouble moving around, you can only visit her and deliver medicine every week. She lives alone in a small cottage near the town. You have invited her to come and live with you, but she prefers the solitude of the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the town.

"Don't be too late."

"Okay." You packed your things and put on your bright red hood, heading towards the forest. Everyone in town loves to call you Little Red Riding Hood, even your mother likes to call you little red. You also enjoy being called that. This hood is your special symbol, a coming-of-age gift from your grandmother.

—----

"This meat is not fresh at all." Yunho disappointedly spat out the minced meat in his mouth, disdainfully looking down at the bloody corpse on the floor. The body was contorted in a grotesque posture, a pained expression frozen on its face, forever capturing the moment of death. Its upper limbs had been violently ripped off, while its lower limbs hung haphazardly on the armrest of the sofa, oozing fresh red blood from irregular wounds. The walls of the cabin were stained with horrifying bloodstains, and the nauseating smell of blood hung heavy in the air, making one feel sick.

Yunho sat down and casually wiped away the foreign red blood from the corners of his mouth. The hunger had temporarily subsided, but he was not satisfied; animal meat no longer fulfilled his twisted desires—it was humans that he craved the most. Because of his "preference," which violated the rules set by the wolf clan and humans, Yunho was driven away by his own kind and condemned from ever setting foot in wolf territory again. This was the cruelest punishment for a wolf, as without the protection of the pack, it would be easy prey for hunters. However, this seemed to have little impact on Yunho, for his innate strength made him view hunters as no threat. Instead, being "exiled" was what he craved the most, as it finally freed him from the constraints of rules and regulations.

“Those idiots should kill me but not expel me. Tsk…but no matter what, I will kill that guy if he does anything that gets in my way.” His tone was arrogant and provocative, not taking the punishment seriously. "Okay, I'm well-rested~ Let me find my next prey." He said. At that moment, he noticed the calendar on the wall which read "Granddaughter's Visit" and today's date.

"Oh? Visiting day? Perfect~ Saves me some trouble." An evil thought crossed his mind. A cunning smile appeared on his face, accompanied by a cruel gleam in his eyes, instilling fear in anyone who saw it. He disposed of the dismembered body in a hidden ruin, cleaned up the bloodstains in the house, put on the clothes of the house owner, and lay down in bed, waiting patiently for his prey to arrive.

---

"Knock─Knock─Grandma, I'm here." You knocked on the wooden door as usual, waiting for your grandma to open it. However, there was no response from inside the house even after some time had passed. 

"Is she asleep?" You cautiously opened the door, afraid to make any noise, but there was nothing unusual to be found.

As you entered the house, a sweet scent filled the air─an intoxicating fragrance that was both enticing and comforting. This scent made Yunho's murderous intent fade away, replaced by an inexplicable hunger─not the hunger caused by lack of food, but a Pandora's box-like desire.

"Grandma?" You approached the bed quietly, wanting to check if she was asleep. Just as you were about to pull back the covers, a massive hand suddenly reached out from underneath, grabbing your wrist tightly and pulling you towards the person. Caught off guard, you were pulled down onto the bed, screaming in fear.

In front of you was not your grandma but a man with a big frame. He supported himself with both hands on either side of your head, his eyes glowing with a terrifying red light, emanating a chilling aura as if he wanted to kill you. You covered your mouth with both hands, feeling as if an invisible barrier prevented you from screaming. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, breathing became erratic, and the muscles seemed to be locked in chains, rendering you immobile and helpless, consumed by fear.

On the other hand, Yunho felt strange reactions in his body: his breathing became rapid and deep, heart pounded uncontrollably, skin burned like it was on fire, and he longed for the touch and caress of others, even his member's slight erection. 

Could this be...the so-called mate? No, it couldn't be. He was a werewolf, and you were a human. How could it be possible?

Unbelievable, and yet impossible to deny. He, who always viewed humans as prey, how could he accept that a human was his soulmate? This might be the cruelest punishment from God.

"No...why you...no." Yunho's chaotic mind prevented him from forming coherent sentences. Despite his continuous denial of the reality before him, his body's response was the most honest─he wanted to fuck you so badly.

"Who are you...?" In your trembling voice, there was a hint of despair and fear. Instead of resisting or escaping, you found yourself asking for the name of the terrifying stranger in front of you. Unaware of your own thoughts, despite the fear, you subconsciously wanted to get closer to him, to touch him, and even felt a strange desire for him.

He snapped out of his daze, and the terrifying look in his eyes softened, revealing a trace of tenderness that didn't match his character, but the fierceness remained.

"Shouldn't you introduce yourself before asking for someone's name?" He remained as blunt and impolite as ever.

"Y/N..." It seemed like you were stunned, as you blurted out your own name directly.

"Yunho." Surprisingly, he told you his name, something he never did with anyone before.

Both of you were bewildered, not understanding the situation.

"Why are you in my grandma's house?"

"You guess?" His voice was filled with a seductive magnetism, carrying an irresistible charm that made you want to hear more.

"What...you..."

"I ate her." These words hit your heart like a hammer, filling you with sadness and fear. The emotions spread throughout your body, tearing at your nerves, oppressing your heart, making it hard to breathe, and causing your tears to flow uncontrollably.

"You are…!?"

"Wolf...or should I say, werewolf." Seeing your pitiful appearance, his desire burned even stronger, and he couldn't control it anymore.

"You smell so good, Y/N." His fingertip traced the trails of tears on your face, sliding down to your trembling chest, suddenly tightening around your arousal. You were startled, and your body trembled, unable to resist. You desperately closed your eyes, accepting your imminent fate of being killed.

"So sweet, so intoxicated." The desire in his heart finally overwhelmed his rationality, and he couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He pressed himself onto you, his hand naturally caressing your face. His lips brushed against the skin of your neck, occasionally licking and sucking, savoring the taste like a delicacy, greedily inhaling the sweet and intoxicating aroma. His kisses gradually moved higher, from your neck to your ear, his tongue gently caressing your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

"Ummm...Yunho..." You attempted to stop the man on top of you, unknowingly fueling his desire even more. "Be patient, my mate." At this moment, he let the desires take control of his body. His struggle before seemed like a mere act. He returned to your neck once again, burying himself in it, leaving a trail of kisses and red marks all over your body, making you feel waves of warmth throughout your body.

You didn't resist, but instead, became intoxicated in this kiss. You knew it was wrong, he killed your grandmother, and you should feel anger, disgust, hatred, and fear. Yet, your body obeyed his kisses and marks, not resisting at all. This contradiction made you feel helpless, with complex emotions swirling in your head, like being trapped in a whirlpool, struggling but sinking deeper.

"I hate you." All you could say at this moment was these three words in a final act of resistance, even though it was futile. Yunho stopped his movements, once again meeting your desperate eyes. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt, but considered it a mere illusion, disregarding it.

"Keep hating me, because no matter what, you can't kick me off, Y/N." When he said your name, a surge of emotions overwhelmed you─you wanted him, wanted him to call you, to kiss you, and to fuck you. However, regardless of your desires, you couldn't admit or give in to these sinful desires. The endless self-blame and guilt within you wouldn't allow you to follow your desires.

"Let me eat you." With ease, he tore apart your shirt, leaving only your bra to cover your breasts. He buried his head in your chest, sucking on your collarbone and moving down, leaving a trail of kisses. His long tongue glided over every inch of your skin, leaving red marks on your breasts as if savoring a delicacy. He pushed your bra up and used his big hands to knead your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples with his thumb.

"Ahhhh..." The continuous stimulation made you arch your back, moaning softly. Your hands unconsciously gripped his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. 

"Someone horny, huh?" His words made you blush, and he further teased the sexual desires you had been suppressing. Suddenly, you felt a tingling sensation in your lower body, as if something was brushing against your most sensitive area. His tail swayed left and right, lightly touching your clit like a gentle feather.

"Hmmm..." "You like it?" His face wore a satisfied smile as he continued his sucking. The room was filled with the shy sounds of sucking and your moans, brimming with endless desire.

While he licked your left breast, he didn't forget to caress your right breast. You could clearly feel every movement of his tongue, its undulating and flexible dance, circling around your nipple. The wet touch made you tremble involuntarily, and each time he sucked, it was as though an electric current coursed through your body. He moaned against your chest, emitting a sound only an animal could make. You took deep breaths, your body tense with anticipation and excitement.

"I can't get enough of you." Your lower body had already become wet, and you felt a cooling sensation due to your drenched panties. His massive cock and tail occasionally brushed against your clit, providing subtle but tantalizing touches that made you crave more. Too much stimulation has already eroded your rationality. You both wanted more, even though deep down, you were still struggling with your conflicting emotions.

"Yunho, I..." Just as you were about to speak, Yunho sensed the danger and immediately sat up, using his incredible jumping ability to leap far away in an instant. "Bang─" Almost as soon as his feet touched the ground, a gunshot rang out, and a bullet surged through the air, directly towards the spot where Yunho had been. It shattered the glass window beside the bed.

"Get off her!! You fucking wolf!!" A man broke in, holding a long gun and pointing it at Yunho who had transformed into a werewolf. Your sanity returned as the hunter shouted, and the burning heat in your body instantly cooled down. You immediately covered your exposed upper body with a blanket, watching the hunter step by step approaching Yunho, feeling an inexplicable worry.

"Tsk..." As the hunter fired again, Yunho, as if predicting his movements, easily dodged his attack. Taking advantage of the opening, Yunho broke through the wall and disappeared from sight at an incredible speed.

"Are you okay? Little red?" You snapped back to reality, looking at the hunter in confusion.

"I... I'm fine." You said this subconsciously even if you are not fine at all. 

"Let's go back. Your mom is worried about you. She hasn't seen you come back, so she asked me to find you. But... let's not talk about it, let's go back quickly!"

You nodded, but your gaze kept lingering on the forest where Yunho disappeared, feeling an indescribable sense of attachment and worry - emotions that shouldn't exist.

Yet, deep in heart, you had a premonition that you would definitely meet again.

That night completely turned your once smooth-sailing life upside down. Yesterday was just an ordinary and peaceful day, but today has become a merciless nightmare. The care from your neighbors is no longer there, replaced by suspicion, exclusion, and alienation. No one dares to come near you, the "something brings disaster" and "traitor."

You have no idea where the rumors came from, but you know that everyone is filled with malice towards you. You have been falsely accused of being a selfish and heartless scum, willing to sacrifice your grandma for the werewolves. Or you are said to be a witch who will bring misfortune to the town, mercilessly killing everyone, and your grandmother is the first victim. Nobody cares whether you managed to escape from death, or how you feel. All you receive are harsh accusations and contempt.

At first, you tried to clarify the truth, repeatedly stating that you did not make a deal with the werewolf, but everyone ignored you and believed baseless rumors. Because those words seemed to be the most reasonable explanation for why you had so many hickies and why you could still be unscathed when you encounter a man-eating werewolf. Now, you hide in your home, avoiding contact with the townspeople, hoping that time will make forget everything. But it is clear that this is not an effective resistance.

"Hey!! Witch!!" Laughter and mockery from several children outside the house pull you out of your dreamland. You can't even count how many times this has happened, there has been no peace ever since that night.

'Bang! Bang!' Following the insults, several foul-smelling water balloons hit the window, exploding and splashing a mixture of water and feces all around, the nauseating stench making you feel sick to your stomach.

You can no longer bear it. The calm expression on your face suddenly becomes difficult to hide, and you pick up the broom in your house, wanting to drive away the brats outside. "I am not a witch!!" You fiercely open the door handle, roaring in anger, as if resisting all injustice.

"The witch is coming out! Run!" Not only are they not afraid, but they also make funny faces with a disgusting smile. The anger in your body gradually climbs up your forehead, your hands tightly gripping the stick, almost ready to bleed.

"You bastard!!─" You put all your strength into your arm, trying to drive away the children in front of you.

"Get off our children! You bitch!!" Your action is stopped by a shout, and neighbors come from afar.

"You wicked woman, don't you dare harm my children!"

"Just look at how you wanted to hit them!"

"Are you trying to take their lives?"

"The rumor is right! You are planning to beat them to death and feed them to werewolf!"

Word by word, like a tsunami, they swallow you, leaving you speechless. The malicious words pierce your heart like sharp knives, and all you can do is repetitively say "No, I'm not!" meaningless sentences, allowing injustice and pain to engulf your heart. Your anger from earlier completely disappears. You shouldn't have gone out, you shouldn't have resisted at all.

"I would never have guessed that a woman like you could be so promiscuous!"

"Hmph! Just look at the hickies on her body!" You quickly tighten your clothes, trying to cover the lingering passion marks, while your body keeps retreating.

"I didn't... I didn't... the werewolf forcefully kissed me..." You speak the truth, but your weak voice goes unheard by others.

"If it weren't for you getting involved with that werewolf, I would never believe that you could still be alive!"

"Why shouldn't the werewolf just eat you?"

"No... it's not like that!" No matter how many times you clarify, no one believes the truth in your words. Their ears and eyes have long been shielded by rumors. The gaze of the others becomes cold and disdainful, and you see those who used to smile at you now turning into cold strangers. Those outrageous rumors are like demons, completely distorting others' perception of you.

Feeling helpless, you want to retreat to the house, but you accidentally fall to the ground. Upon seeing this, the others intensify their insults. The hateful words hang over you like a dark cloud, unable to be dispelled. You desperately seek your mother's help, as she tries to figure out what's going on outside. However, the moment she meets your gaze, she silently retreats back into her room because of fear, leaving you to bear all the heartless attacks on your own.

"Mom...? Mom??" Your hoarse voice breaks hearts, revealing immense disappointment. She hides behind the door, not daring to step out. No matter how others hurt you, you can still endure it, but her avoidance deeply wounds your soul. You lower your head, trying to avoid the mocking and teasing gazes. Your heart trembles in sadness, and tears continue to flow from your eyes.

"Someone saves me..." You close your eyes tightly, and tears stream down your face as your body trembles uncontrollably. You silently pray, hoping that someone will rescue you from despair and illuminate the darkness within your soul.

"Yunho..." Your subconscious mind calls out the name of that man - the werewolf who led you to this situation. Is it your heart's desire or some mysterious force compelling you to call for him? Unable to understand your own mind, all you want now is for someone to save you.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" A man's voice suddenly comes from nearby, and its owner pushes through the crowd. A huge figure stands in front of you. Gradually coming to your senses, you look at the hero before you, filled with hope - the hunter who saved you that night. In that moment of confusion, you desperately wish that the person before you is Yunho.

"Get away from her." He waves his hand to disperse the crowd, and seeing this, the others gradually disperse. "Are you okay? Little red?" Showing the same concern as before. He helps you up, gently patting away the dirt from your body, and gazes at you with care, as if he is your safe haven. Not knowing if your mind is not functioning properly, you unconsciously mistook him for Yunho. Was it the desire that day that made you obsessed? Or do the hickeys on your body have extraordinary magic power, making you think of him all the time?

"No one will hurt you anymore, don't be afraid." He pats your back, soothing you gently. "Why? Don't you think I'm a curse?" "I was the one who saved you back then. I only believe what I see." His words are like a lifeline, saving you from despair. Even though he is not Yunho, whom you obsess over, you still project the image of Yunho onto him.

"I will protect you, don't worry." He tightly holds your hand, warmth and concern shining in his eyes. He gently wipes away the tears at the corner of your eyes and whispers comforting words. His strong arm wraps around your waist, giving you a sense of stability, as if he always appears when you need him, to shelter you from wind and rain.

Time passes, and when you regain your calm, it is already late at night, and the hunter has been by your side all along. You both sit in the park at the edge of the town, gazing at the beautiful moonlight. 

You break the silence, slowly speaking, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiles shyly.

"Don't you mind how others think of you? They might also exclude you."

"I don't mind. I only follow my heart and do what I want, without being influenced by others."

"But..."

"Little red, I believe in you. I believe you're not the witch they speak of." Those four words shake your heart like a powerful injection, as if someone finally understands you.

"Thanks." You don't know how to respond, but you feel a hint of warmth finally reaching your wounded heart. Maybe because you have suffered too much, tears flow from your eyes without your control.

"It will be okay. As long as I am here, you'll be fine." You nod your head and lean it on his shoulder, enjoying this fake tranquility.

Soon, you will discover that this is all a trap.

And neither of you realizes that Yunho is sitting on a nearby tree, observing everything.

—--

In the days to come, he always appeared and comforted you when others bullied you. He was considerate, taking care of all your needs, as if his initial words were not empty promises, but true commitments. People are most vulnerable when they are weak, and inadvertently, you found yourself lost in his "tenderness."

On this day, you decided to secretly sneak into the tavern in the small town to give the hunter a surprise. "I wonder if he'll like it?" You looked at the basket in your hand, filled with the delicacies you made. Sneaking to the tavern near the forest, you hid beside an open window, secretly peeping inside and saw the hunter and his friends drinking.

You contemplated when would be the best time to give him the gift, but then the conversation you heard shattered everything you believed in.

"I told you, women are easy to deceive. As long as you appear by her side at her weakest moment, say a few sweet words, she will willingly fall into your embrace."

"You really have the skills, thinking about fabricating rumors that she is a witch. I almost believed it too."

"Of course~ Why else would she come to me? And thanks to those stupid townspeople."

"Then what is your next move?"

"Her virginity, I bet it hasn't been taken by anyone yet. Maybe…no I must be the first one to take it."

The evil laughter was piercing, and their despicable smiles made you feel nauseous. Your world completely collapsed, and your heart was filled with chaos, frustration, disappointment, and sadness, just like when you were bullied in the past. You thought you had finally found a guiding light, but instead, you caught the mastermind behind this chaos, and even unwittingly fell into his embrace.

You felt ashamed of your own foolishness and naivety, and your eyes were filled with endless disappointment. Your body felt bound by invisible gravity, your shoulders slumped, and the basket in your hand dropped to the ground, scattering the snacks.

"Who?!" The sound of the basket hitting the ground caught everyone's attention, and you woke up from disbelief, quickly running away.

"Little red?" "Fuck." You didn't think much, only relying on instinct and intuition to make a quick decision, running straight into the nearby forest. Your heartbeat accelerated, your breath became rapid, and you desperately crossed your legs, trying to distance yourself from the hunter chasing after you.

"Don't run away~ my baby~" Ah!! this phrase made you feel disgusted to the extreme, and your heart suddenly tightened, feeling a surge in your stomach. "I can see you~." As the chasing sound drew closer, you could only increase your speed, with possible escape routes and call out that name again Yunho, strange but familiar, constantly flashing in your mind.

"Yunho..." You grew anxious, focusing only on running, too afraid to stop. The sound of a gunshot piercing through the sky terrified you, your vision darkened, and your knees gave way, causing you to fall onto the leaf-covered ground.

"My little red~ See? I found you. You can't run away~" He approached step by step, his huge figure blocking the moonlight, casting a dark shadow over you, enveloping you in terror. He had an evil smile on his face, his depraved mind thinking about how to "taste" you. Even though the truth was revealed, he showed no signs of panic, but instead revealed his true nature.

"Why did you come to the tavern? Wouldn't it be better to stay at home obediently?" Unconsciously, you continued to retreat, but the trees behind you blocked your way. You struggled to stand up, but your legs were too weak to support your body due to fear.

"Get off me." Another useless resistance. 

He kneeled beside you, holding a gun against your chin, while his other hand boldly slipped under your skirt, pushing up the hem and caressing your thigh.

You clenched your teeth, tightly held your fist, but had no strength to eliminate the oppressive feeling of fear. Faced with the threat of death, you dared not make a move, only closing your eyes, trying to escape from the reality in front of you. Your body trembled continuously, as if shrouded in an indelible shadow. Your cries sounded so pleasant in the hunter's ears, igniting his most perverted desires.

"Let me eat you out—ahhhh." The sudden scream made you widen your eyes, the oppressive feeling on your body disappeared, replaced by a shadow. A clear and terrifying bloodstain appeared on the hunter's neck, and fresh blood spurted out like a fountain. The screams of pain were choked by the gushing blood, unable to escape. He frantically covered his neck wound, but the blood flowed uncontrollably, like a prisoner breaking free from its cage.

"How dare you touch her?" The hunter lay on the ground making meaningless syllables, struggling with his legs and backing away in fear. "Such a poor thing! Aren't you the one who tried to kill me? What's wrong?" Yunho kicked the hunter's head swiftly and forcefully, blood spurting as he did so. Without much resistance, the hunter fell to the ground in response, the blood stopping flowing with his death.

"Tsk...scum." He kicks the hunter's head in dissatisfaction and crushes it. The sound of the blast makes you shiver in fear, the man in front of you is even more terrifying than the hunter. He turns around, his body stained with red blood, the blood spots on his face adding to his horrific beauty. The moment you meet his eyes, it's as if an electric current passes through your body, making your heart skip a beat.

"How stupid are you to throw yourself at him-" his words were cut short by your sudden embrace. You pressed yourself against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, not letting go of him as if you were afraid he would leave.

"I miss you, Yunho." Yunho couldn't help but freeze at the sound of your words, his eyes turning to surprise at your behaviour.

"Mind your words, Y/N. You better know what you are talking about." His low voice warned you, and at the same time roused your senses. You did follow your heart just now, not worrying about whether or not the man in front of you would kill you outright.

"I know what I am saying...I just miss you." your voice was choked with sobs, tears staining the shirt on his chest.

"I've been praying for you to show up... I don't know why, but I want you." You know all this emotion is undeserved; he killed your grandmother, caused you to be ostracised, and even though it was a hunter's plot, what Yunho did was undeserving of the infatuation you have for him.

Maybe he really did put a drug on you-the poison named soul mates.

"You want me? Huh? You know you're responsible for what you say?" He pushes you away slightly, bending down to maintain the same eye level as you, his eyes full of endless lust. As he keeps hearing you call out to him, the lust in his body can't hold back, and it burns like a flame in every part of his body, driving him to snatch you away from the crowd. 

Whenever your call rings in his ears, he can only run wildly through the forest, trying to replace lust with exhaustion. Deep down he still struggles with the idea that humans are his prey, not his mate, but he can't help but peep at you. And this time, when your life is threatened, he can't stand it any longer.

Once again, his lust flares at your words, his cock hardening and pressing against your lower core. Hands on the back of your neck, he pulls you towards him, and breath sprays onto both of your skin, filling the space with a seductive ambience.

"Please, I want you-" and before you know it, he catches you off guard and kisses you on the lips. The two of you are attracted to each other. A brief moment of shock and tingling makes your hearts beat faster, and then your lips and tongues begin to explore the depths of each other.

The kisses you share are electric and fervent, as if you're both yearning to merge into one another completely. He pulls you in with fervor, teasing your lips with a mix of gentle caresses and fervent bites. Your tongues dance together, exploring and savoring every moment.

Your hands roam freely over each other's bodies, ignited by an insatiable desire to touch every part of each other's skin. You wrap your arms around Yunho's neck, tracing the contours of his backs, and at times, you press so close that you can feel the heat radiating between you.

"Let me fuck you hard." He leaves your lips, gasping for breath, and pins you against a tree trunk. He plunges into your skirt and removes all your lower clothing, his fingertips brushing against your clit, causing you to purr.

"Oh please." "So wet." He licks his fingertip that covers with your juice, pulls down his trousers and then lifts you straight up, his strong arms under your thighs, making your feet dangle. His huge cock goes straight into your cunt, filling you completely.

"Ahhhhh~~~Yunho~~" You've never had sex before and you're so sensitive that the mere moment of his thrusting makes your heart race like crazy and gives you goosebumps. His thrusts are like an infusion of wildness, urgent and ferocious, wanting to explore all of you. Your cunt sucks on his thick cock, giving him endless stimulation.

"You feel so good, oh gosh." The thrusts are rhythmic, each one going deeper and deeper, satisfying your emptiness and making you purr.

"Ahh~ah~~umm~" His lips glide over your neck, playfully nibbling and teasing your skin with tantalizing licks that send shivers down your spine. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your ear, a thrilling contrast that quickens your heartbeat. As his kisses grow more fervent, you instinctively arch your neck, craving deeper connection. His lips dance passionately across your delicate skin, as if he longs to claim every part of you.

Each kiss is a sweet torment, delving into the curve of your neck, igniting a slow, uncontrollable wave of desire within you. He gently sucks on your most sensitive spots, drawing soft whimpers from your lips as you instinctively tilt your head, inviting him to explore further. Seizing the moment, Yunho deepens his kisses, relishing every inch of your skin with an insatiable hunger.

"Sweet af, so prefect."

"Ha~fuck~"

Instead of easing up, his lower body movements are getting more and more exciting. His body becomes more buried in your arms, his cock seems to break through the limitations and pushes deeper. A thrilling rush courses through you, making each breath feel like a rare indulgence. You gasp, reveling in the relentless contact of his body against yours, allowing the heat within you to soar to its peak.

"Yuyu...I ahhh." Your affection for him drives him to the brink of madness as the pace intensifies. The whole forest vibrates with scandalous noises: your back pressed against the rough bark of trees, flesh meeting flesh, and sporadic gasps echoing through the air.

"I have a knot...in my stomach...yuyu." 

"Cum, babe...Cumming mess on my cock." He grabs your arse and controls you to swing back and forth.

"Ah!Ah!Fuck!Alpha!"

The origin of that word escapes you, yet it burst forth from your lips in a moment of pure instinct. Yunho halted, his desire surging to an overwhelming crescendo at the sound of your voice. After a flurry of passionate movements, you both reached the peak of ecstasy together. His essence spilled forth, coating you and trickling down to the floor beneath.

As he gently lowers you back to the ground, he pulls away, leaving both of you breathless. Your faces glow with a rosy hue, smiles of fulfillment dancing on your lips, as if you had just returned from an extraordinary adventure.

"You are mine now, Y/N." 

"Huh?" 

"I knot you. You can't get away from me anymore." 

"Knot me...?" 

"That means you'll always be here for me. Never leav─"

"Over there!!!" A sudden fire lights up the dark sky, and a group of townspeople with weapons are running in your direction. Both of you take a closer look and notice that their figures are getting closer. You grab Yunho's arm in fear, panic raging through your body, images of past oppression flashing through your mind. You don't want to─don't want to be captured by them.

"Oh, there's a lot of customers, huh?"

"You bitch, you're having an affair with a werewolf!"

"I can't believe you killed Mr Hunter!!!" The crowd once again hurled insults at you and your body began to tremble as you felt seriously uncomfortable.

"Yunho...we..." you take his hand and try to pull him away to escape.

"Don't worry." He smiles softly, not panicking as he carries you in his arm, glancing provocatively at the crowd behind you.

"Dare to kill me?" His provocative words enrage the townspeople, who booed, and one of them even shot at you suddenly. Of course, Yunho easily dodges the bullets and leaps into a tree.

"She is mine now." A wicked grin spreads across his face. "And~ I will repay all the injuries she suffered ONE—BY—ONE, just wait." Without waiting for the others to react, he leaps in the other direction with you in his arms and disappears into the darkness of the forest.

Maybe the rumours weren't true after all - the werewolf eventually killed everyone who hurt you. The so-called "Little Red Riding Hood" fairy tale is just an adaptation of a later story, because no one knows the real ending.

[justblades]

⌕ FLIMSY FEELINGS, 18+

⟢ CHARACTER : blade x afab! reader WC : 1.4k

⟢ WARNINGS : EXPLICIT, MDNI. dubcon, somno, voyeur! blade, oral (fem receiving), sadistic masochistic themes, mutual masturb#tion, cunnilingus

⟢ A/N : we don't have much info abt his character rn but i tried my best with the available provided info as of the moment !! enjoy <3

raven hair ripples from the bitter cold winds blowing, the glint of crisp solferino hues show a reflection of an unknown person - someone the stellaron hunters just happened to pick up as they tread upon weaving the threads of fate, just how the screen play director foretold.

it was just blade and you alone, encompassed by the archaic, gunmetal gray walls. blade watches your slumbering figure as he wears a solemn face, lips pressed into a thin line, not showing any kind of expression at all except for a stoic mask.

is it really a mask? no one could tell. blade just proceeds to stride towards your body, feeling an aching sensation he needed to tend to. it's a feeling he'd come to despise - but it's still a part of his bodily function. even though he abandoned his old way of living and is now in a pursuit of his path to vengeance, there are trivial things he must fulfill at once.

blade slowly descends to your position, vision still not anchoring away from your dozing shape. humans truly are fragile, he thought to himself— to see someone in their vulnerable state, it feels quite intimate. it was an epiphany blade had for a long time ago he forgot when, but all he knows right now is there's just one thing that must be done.

he feels his pants grow tighter by the minute, the flickering light bulb casts a darker shade of monochrome gray on the crotch part. the navy haired doesn't delay any further and proceeds to get it done. blade unbuckles his belt swiftly, letting the item crash against the concrete flooring; followed suit is an act of self pleasure, he gradually wraps his dominant around his throbbing girth, reveling the wamrth he had to offer to himself in dead silence.

the stellaron hunter may not show it but gratification already courses through his system. at a slow pace, he continues to lean more towards your figure, his cock now at its full glory. its head twitches, itching for a sensation for it to be enveloped in; something warm, something tight and something alive. three qualifications that his mere hands could not satisfy.

perhaps that was your sole purpose for you being brought here in the stellaron hunters' temporary hideout. he rips your clothes with one clean cut from the cracked sword he brandishes, one of the many ways he showcases his astonishing swordsmanship. steadily positioning himself from your slit, a hot, rock hard feeling rubs on your lower lips.

blade's heart begins to pulsate against his rib cage, each beat becoming louder and faster in such an irregular manner. the more he got to feel your slippery cunt, the more eager he only got. and with one powerful thrust, he successfully makes his entrance inside you, his cock lavishing the comfort of your velvet walls clamping around his length.

he huffs a deep breath and only realizes it late as he catches a quick whiff of your scent— for some reason, he was drawn on. the male inches forward your neck, his hands tightly clasped on yours to make sure there would be no attempt of escape. presently atop you while you laid on your stomach, you could feel some faint but added pressure on your limbs plus a somewhat familiar presence from above.

blade was only detached from what you were feeling and only carried on with his own intentions. he rams inside you with no forewarnings, his tip fills you all the way up to the very brim. a breathy, whiny moan erupts in the vicinity that undoubtedly came from you but he heeds no mind to it— continuing to pound into your walls, intruding with such an abrupt pace and not in gradual motions.

in anything that he does, he emanates of destruction. a polar opposite of care, tenderness and love; it shows in his rough, vertiginious thrusts, his firm tight touch, and lastly, in his facial expression. you were not one bit shocked, if anything, you just accepted what is happening as of the present. being used as a cocksleeve for a passing feeling, it rips at your heartstrings but you were powerless before him.

you continued to pretend as if you were still dozing off in spite the mewl that you tried so hard to bite back, stifling more noises threatening to slip out. it would be far more awkward if you're awake as you weren't one bit acquainted with blade. not even shared glances, all the information you have is an overheard conversation from the hunters, only knowing his sole name : blade.

the swordsman eventually begins to drop his guard down, becoming more lax at letting his guttural groans come undone from his mouth. his bandaged hand wanders on your naked, exposed skin, traveling to places where he finds the most appealing. aside from the sound of skin slapping, clothes shifting and his jagged breathing were accompanied by the chime of his dangling scarlet earring.

a sharp pang of pain follows from a loud smack sound. it was his slender hand coming into harsh contact against the plush of your ass, leaving darker imprints from your complexion - it was no doubt, his spanking's seal. you could no longer play pretend as you wince from the pain, your eyes shot open and you turn your head.

your vision was then graced by the indigo haired, he took notice that you were awoken but as usual, he's cold as a gelid ice. he did not care.

when suddenly, he withdraws his cock from your pussy and flips your body around— thus making you meet his face, catching you off guard from your current dazed state. you slowly look up to meet his sharp gaze to the point that you could see your own image from his vivid cerise eyes. your very first locked gaze with blade, and mayhaps the last. his hand clasps on yours once again but only to bring it down to your cunt, he proceeds to uncurl your balled up fist.

he guides your fingers to stroke and pleasure yourself, your own digits prodding through your wet entrance. your breathing quickens, a foreign sensation brewing in the pits of your abdomen; meanwhile blade doesn't do anything but to watch on your expressions. "continue." blade commands ; his raspy, deep voice resounds into your ears.

you were struck with both of shock and nervousness, his tone laced with authority and coldness to it yet again. as embarrassing as it is to do it in front of a man you've never met in your lifetime, you obey his order, continuing to pump your fingers in and out of your coiling walls before his predatory naked eyes.

the navy haired pleasures himself at present, along with you - matching your rhythm. your legs spread open in front of him to feast upon that no man has ever tasted, an unfamiliar sensation wells in his heart. he groans and picks up the pace of him stroking his own erection, a feeling of release immediately dawning upon him.

with blurry vision, for a moment, you could see a hint of sadness and regret behind the vermillion windows of his soul. although the actions he's committing currently are lascivious and of lust, you swear to yourself there was something more than what meets the eye.

as quickly time flashes, strings of muddy white spring out from his cock, the liquids spilling into your exposed tits and your panic stricken face. he catches his breath in the midst of it, heavy panting echoes inside the enclosed vicinity. "i didn't order you to stop."

his words pierces your perturbed mind, he pertains to your masturbation ending just as when he reached his climax. the male swiftly gathers all the cum littering your skin with one hand and one movement, cupping the liquids carefully only to insert all of it into your pussy.

a moan bubbles from your throat, feeling his long fingers curl inside your sticky walls. blade, even though a stoic man most of the time, he's also full of surprises. he flicks his tongue over your clit, the pointy tip rubbing viscules and in circular motions on the specific spot.

your back arches, waves of pleasure crashing upon your lethargic self. blade doesn't halt and carries on to suck your walls out, margins of his sticky lips perfectly fitting with your lower ones. his tongue once again skillfully glides over your sensitive parts— earning him your climax as it spills out from your hole, adorning his sharp, masculine features as if your ejaculation was an accessory.

it felt ecstatic, as if your body drifts into the seventh heaven from blade's cold touches. in spite of the overwhelming gratification pooling in your body, hundreds of questions start to flare up in your mind, mainly about blade's identity. naturally, it rolls from your lips, a question he didn't see coming.

"what are you really?"

among the many blank faces blade shows you this night, he finally unravels a different one upon encountering your question. "are you really that fervent to know?" he rhetorically asks as a sneering smile creeps on his lips.

my masterlist !

[josiesullysblog]

His Prize

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader

~DarkNeteyam, explicit content, CNC?? Characters aged up to, 22

~Proofread?- no

~Summary-Neteyam is in love with [Y/n], although they aren't in a relationship.

~Note-Everything that happens is consensual!!! Wanted to make that clear before you read, hope you enjoy it!!

***

Neteyam loved a good challenge. He loved being able to showcase his talent, loved hearing the praises everyone would say, “Wow Neteyam you're so advanced for your age!” or, “I think you might be better than your father!” whatever compliment it was he thrived off it.

Neteyam at a very young age understood that one day he’d become the leader of his clan. His father always said, “A strong leader always has a stronger woman behind him,” he took these words into account. He knew if he ever wanted to be a great leader, better than his father he’d need the perfect mate.

He thanked Ewya that his parents never arranged a mate for him, allowing him the freedom to pick his own. Although his parents did push a certain girl. Kya was cute, she was everything a man would want in a mate, submissive, and always did what was asked of her, but Neteyam didn't want that.

He liked fighting, he wanted to break his mate and watch the fight leave their eyes as he finally claimed them as his, he wanted a prize. He’d, of course, treat them with the respect a woman deserves to have, but he knew no girl here would put up any fight. They’d willingly want to come to him, they’d fall to their knees begging for him. This changed when he met you.

You were like a firecracker. Always had something slick to say, never let anyone step all over you, it was a match made in heaven. Neteyam was going to break you, make you regret meeting him, but at the same time save you. Save you from your boring life and show you the real world.

“What are you looking at?” you gave him a stank look, and he smiled, “You,” you just laughed as you got up, “i’m too bad for you, I wouldn't want to taint Toruk Makto’s golden boy.” you walked off swinging your hips.

Neteyam's smile deepened, you truly believed you were worse than him? This was going to be fun.

You were bored. You had the same schedule every day, nothing new, and you were longing for something. Anything to finally make you feel content. You longed for something, and Neteyam was going to make sure you knew it was him.

“Hey, Teyem,” Kya smiled at the boy. Neteyam’s eyes were on you, he watched as you made bracelets, “hi, Kya,” the girl blushed. Usually, the boy only said hi and then left but today he said her name, “I was wondering if you needed help with anything!”

Neteyam looked at her, “Anything?” her breath hitched, “anything,” it came out as a whisper, “Hm, aren't you a good girl always trying to help everyone,” his eyes examined her. Her breathing had become irregular, and her mouth was slightly open. Neteyam would be a fool not to notice how the girl was obviously sexually attracted to him.

Neteyam’s eyes fell back on you, “what do you know about her?” Kya looked at you, “[Y/n]?” the boy nodded, “she’s lazy, she never does anything always moping around,” Neteyam wanted to cut the girl's tongue off for speaking like that towards you, but he wasn't stupid.

A girl like Kya was always noticeable in a group. She was often the leader in situations and if he were to kill her people would notice. But a girl like Kya was also a whore. He saw the way her eyes lingered on his brother or other hunters.

If Neteyam were to make a dumb decision and get with her, she’d be tainted. Ruined by someone else because Neteyam knew Kya was no virgin. But [Y/n], although she claimed to be worse than Neteyam, was fresh meat.

Nobody dared mess with her, she always had a rebuttal. Nobody wanted her because she was a handful, perfect for Neteyam. “I see,” Neteyam stood up and placed a hand on the girl's back, “Thank you, Kya,” he then walked away.

Kya’s eyes lingered on you, what could you possibly have that she doesn't? She wasn't afraid to admit, she wanted Neteyam for his title. Imagine her the next Tsahik, she understood she’d need to put an act on. But Neteyam was always looking at you. She had to get rid of you, make Neteyam understand it was her he wanted.

You played with the water in front of you. You were at peace Pandora was so big, and you thought it was sad you might never get to see all its wonderful parts. You were so gone, you jumped up when you heard sudden movement behind you.

“Who's there?” your heart raced as your eyes searched for something moving, “didn't mean to scare you,” Neteyam came out with his hands up. You rolled your eyes, “If you're here telling me I need to go back you have wasted your time.”

He laughed, “i’m not here for such things,” you looked at him, “Then what are you doing out here?” you didn't believe him. You convinced yourself that you could read anybody, but you found it difficult with Neteyam. “I could ask you the same question.”

You huffed, “I asked first,” the boy came closer, “have you always had such a mouth?” your eyes widened, “have you always been so intrusive?” the boy shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Well, I won't be answering any of your questions,” you turned away from him, “a girl with a mouth like yours needs to be tamed.” you turned to him before charging toward him, “You have no right to say I need to be tamed. I am not some toy-,” he cut you off by putting a hand on your throat. It was a gentle yet firm grip, “let me go.”

It was times like these when you remembered your place, that men's strength was no match for you, and no matter how strong you thought you were they could still overpower you. “Why should I? I’ve been here for only minutes and you’ve been nothing but rude toward me.”

You fought in his grasp, “You know if you really wanted me to let go, you’d fight harder.” The boy's grip became harder, “I know you have more fight in you, but I think you like this.”

His smile was wicked, “you like being helpless at the disposal of me,” you shook your head, “then fight,” you tired but he held you tight. “What I thought.”

You didn't want him to know, that this secretly turned you on. He was the only person to put you in your place, it was rare for anyone to do that.

He let go of you, letting you fall to the floor, “I bet if I were to open you up right now, you’d be wet.”

You coughed as you tried putting distance between yourself and the boy, “Don't run, you know you love this,” you couldn't lie you loved every part of this. You never expected Neteyam to be like this, he was so good at hiding this side of himself.

Neteyam bent down to your level, trailing a finger down your leg, “you're so beautiful,” your breath hitched, “so needy,” he laughed. “No, i’m not,” he looked at your eyes you still had a fire in them.

Other girls would give up by now, but not you. You were determined to fight till the end. “I love how you fight me,” he gripped your ankle pulling you in, “it makes it more fun for when I break you.”

“You won’t break me,” his grip became tighter as his smile deepened, “wanna bet?” his other hand traveled to between your legs, “your soaking.”

You fought back a moan, “There's no point in fighting now, baby,” he caught your clit causing a moan to slip out, “Give in to me, you never have to worry again.”

You threw your head back, “never,” Neteyam nodded, “I’ve always loved a good challenge,” he plunged a finger inside you, “so tight can't wait to fill you up!”

You started moaning, and you couldn't hold it back, “that's right baby,” he picks up speed as he feels you tighten around his fingers. He was going fast and you felt yourself coming near, “slow down,” if anything your words made him go faster, “After you cum on my fingers, you’ll do it on my dick.”

Your eyes widen, as you felt yourself let go. Your body twitched as he let go of you, “open wide,” he brought his fingers to your mouth. You moved his hand as you tried to catch your breath, but he grabbed your cheeks and pushed his fingers into your mouth. “See, it's not so hard is it?”

You choked on his fingers till he finally let go of you. He stood up, “Get on all fours,” you knew why he wanted you to. You shook your head, “That wasn't a request,” you looked into his eyes, “Please, just,” he laughed, “are you begging?”

You couldn't believe it yourself, “I just need time,” you said as you tried to stand up but he pushed you to the ground, “Play with your nipples.”

“What?” you looked at him crazy, “You heard me. If you want time you’ll listen,” it was such a humiliating thing to ask. Yet you still did it, “look into my eyes,” you looked at his eyes, “Look at you, such a slut for me,” you rolled your nipples as he degraded you, “I shouldn't be so nice to you,” he said causing a shiver to roll down your back.

“Please,” you said as he put his foot between your legs, “grind,” it just kept piling up. You did what he asked, “No one will ever see you like this,” you nodded as you felt yourself near, “I’ll give you a week, every night I expect you to edge yourself.” he got down to your level.

“If I find out someone else has touched you, or you’ve come without permission I will fuck you for everyone to see,” you nodded as he stood up and walked away, “be a good girl.”

You laid back thinking about what just happened. That boy was going to be the death of you.

Kya watched as you helped the elders put boxes away, “is that all?” you smiled at them, “Yes, thank you, dear!” you walked out deciding to head somewhere else.

Your mind kept going back to Neteyam. The way he handled you was such a turn-on, you smiled thinking back to it. You did as he asked, besides the no cumming part. What he doesn't know won’t hurt him, you thought as you walked.

As you were walking, a hand pulled you causing a gasp to leave your throat. “What the fuck,” you said yanking the hand away, “if you wanted my attention should've said my name like a normal person,” you looked up at your captor to see Kya.

Kya has an imaginary battle going on with you. Ever since you two were children she always tries to be better than you. She never wins although you don't care enough, you do think it's funny seeing her get all railed up.

“Kya what's your problem this time?” you rub the spot on your arm she yanked you by, it was definitely going to bruise. “Why are you spending time with Neteyam?” you couldn't help but smile. This was over Neteyam?

“Why do you care?” the girl’s nose flared as she spoke, “Please [Y/n], everyone knows me and him are expected to mate,” you shrugged, “I don't keep up with the local gossip.”

“Enough with your remarks! I’m telling you right now stay away from him,” you looked her up and down, “or what? You're going to kill me?” now you probably knew getting her all worked up wasn't the smartest thing but you were bored.

She gasps, “No, I won't kill you, but I’ll do something that makes you wish I did.” you laughed, “Can't wait!” you were starting to get under her skin, “you must be drugged him,” she said, “why would he want a girl like you?”

You didn't know the answer to that, why did he want you? “He obviously doesn't want you, Kya. Grow up fighting me won't make him want you,” she narrowed her eyes at you, “and he so obviously wants you?”

You looked at her funny, “Answer your own question dumbass,” she was becoming increasingly annoying, “I don't know what you did to him, but I promise you I always get what I want.” you turned around flipping her off, “whatever makes you sleep at night.”

The most annoying thing about you was, you didn't care. Kya’s threats were meaningless to you, she knew that. No matter what anyone said, it was like they went in one ear and out the other. She’d never voice this out loud but she was jealous of you.

You didn't need anyone's approval to be happy. Her whole life she’s been fighting for that number-one spot and you don't even try, yet you still got it.

Her parents push her every day to be this amazing girl, who gets all the guys and has all these friends. Your parents love you no matter what. She understood you both had different personalities, your personality was more carefree. You didn't listen most of the time, but Neteyam still wanted you. He doesn't even look her way.

You don't have all the friends she does, you seem happier alone though. You spend your time with the elders, always listening to their stories. She hated you so much she wished she was you.

“Teyem!” she giggled as she watched the boy. He seemed lost in thought but his eyes still looked at her, “Kya,” she smiled, “what are you up to?” he sighed, “Nothing,” Neteyam rarely had a moment to himself. He wanted to kill the girl for interrupting him.

He was imagining what faces you’d make as he fucks you hard. “We should hang out together!” that was the last thing he wanted, “why?” her face flushed, “to get to know each other better, last time we spoke you were asking about that girl-,” he smiled, “what girl?”

Kya smiled, “[Y/n],” She couldn't contain her happiness, maybe she was wrong, and he didn't like you. He sighed, “she's pretty cool,” Neteyam said, “pretty lazy,” Neteyam's head looked at her, “what else is she like,” he smiled at the girl.

“[Y/n] only does things when she feels like it,” Neteyam nodded, “I was just talking with her about how she doesn't deserve a boy like you,” Neteyam’s smile fell, “What?” Kya laughed, “She's so boring, I was only humbling her.”

Neteyam gripped her arm, “what did you tell her?” his gaze became hard. “Huh?” he hit her on the head with his other hand. He dragged her onto a tree. “You better hope she doesn't take your advice.”

The girl cried as Neteyam’s hand grabbed her neck, “Aw why so sad?” he smiled, “Did you touch her?” she shook her head, “No, Neteyam I didn't!”

“So, if I see her, she won't have a mark on her,” her mind goes back to when you were rubbing your arm, “Neteyam I didn't mean to! I was just trying to get her attention!”

Neteyam faked sympathy, “I bet, it was a simple accident,” the girl nodded but Neteyam’s grip got stronger, “let me tell you something,” he looked her up and down, “ever come near my mate again, I’ll rip you limp to limp,” he smiled before letting go.

“I’ll tell everyone! That you did this to me!” she cried from the floor, “did what? They all know you're a whore, these marks on you? They got there because you got too carried away after a fun night, and who are they going to believe? The whore or Toruk Makto’s son?” he smiled before walking away.

“They told me if I keep working hard, I’ll be ready before my birthday!” you smiled at your mother, “My little girl is growing up!” she wiped fake tears from her eyes.

You laughed till you both heard footsteps, “Good afternoon Mrs. [L/n]!” Neteyam said as he flashed a smile, “Neteyam! What a surprise!” you rolled your eyes, thankfully your mother doesn't see. “I was wondering if I could borrow your daughter for a little bit?”

Your mother nodded, “That's alright with me!” you stood up, “See you later mom,” You kissed her and walked ahead of the boy. “Such a good boy in front of others,” you said when the boy caught up to you, “always, my in-laws need to know their daughter is in safe hands.”

You looked at him, “In-laws? So soon?” he laughed, “Oh, you’ll learn with me I like to move quickly,” he nodded, “What if I said no?” he shrugged, “You won’t.”

“How do you know,” he smiled, “because i’m the best thing to happen to you.” you hated how right he was, “You always have to be right,” he nodded, “love a quick learner.”

Once you two were a far enough distance his persona changed, “last time we spoke I gave you two rules to follow,” you nodded, “yet you have a bruise on your arm,” he said which made you smile, “this wasn't from a guy, Kya just grabbed me to hard.”

“I said if I found out somebody else touches you I’d be upset, did I not?” you nodded, “no guy touched me!” he smiled, “somebody could be a girl as well, [Y/n],” you pulled your arm back, “it wasn't like that.”

He was this mad about Kya wait till he finds out you came this week.

“You still broke my rule, so now we're going to play a different game,” he gripped you, “it's called tag,” he smiled, “I’ll give you twenty seconds to run, and if I catch you I can do whatever I want you.”

You smiled, “And if you don't?” he sighed, “I’ll leave you alone forever.” you thought about it. “Deal.”

He smiled, “Better get to running, pretty face.” With that, you immediately booked it.

***

HEYYYYY!!! Hope you enjoy this story! So much fun writing about Neteyam in a darker light, hopefully, you all appreciate it!

[sleepynoons]

blade x afab!f!reader, nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: unprotected sex, emotional sex, handjob, half-assed pussy job (idet it counts), riding in reverse cowgirl, descriptions of injuries

notes: angst, slight comfort. wrote this on my period, and i couldn't stand being the only one in intense pain, so i took this as an excuse to do more research on mara and how blade suffers from it. also stellaron hunter!reader lol

YOU SEE the bandages before you see him. after two weeks of being unable to see each other, you’ve finally been given the green light by kafka to visit blade. eyes wide, you can’t hide your surprise as you examine the fresh cracks and wounds scoring blade’s body, obvious even when he’s veiled by the shadows cast by his door. the dressings almost seem useless, really – a bandage over a bullet wound, almost quite literally. the effects of mara on short-lived species are truly terrifying, the destructive aftermath laid out right in front of you as you grimace when you see a wound slowly open before sealing itself with a muted golden light. he steps back to let you into his room, and you usher him to his bed. 

as you tie up some of the loose ends of the bandages, you murmur, “kafka said it was worse than normal.” blade only stares ahead at something you can’t see.

it’s always been this way. when blade doesn’t want to tell you something, he opts for silence. the two of you are so close yet so far, able to relish in the intimacy of each other’s bodies but never willing to exchange words that reveal what’s underneath. he will even go as far as to openly show you his scars and injuries, but he will never share with you the tales and stories of battles that caused them – constellations on his figure that will remain forever unnamed and disowned. 

kafka had given you a brief, watered-down explanation of blade’s condition when you first joined the stellaron hunters. blade’s pain is predominantly in the psyche, and the mara forces him into an uncontrollable state that he has to be watched over and subdued by kafka. you know it’s all for naught as you wipe his arms and torso with a warm, wet towel. you can only provide brief moments of relief as you pat cool compresses over the cuts you just cleaned.

there’s something you’ve noticed about blade’s injuries. because you’ve never seen blade when he’s mara-struck, you can only presume that he receives his injuries directly or as a result of his transformation. regardless, the cuts are irregular. they look more like deep gashes from sharp fingernails and a sword. 

like clockwork, you finish patching blade up, and after putting all of the medical supplies away, find your place on his lap. blade finally looks at you, gaze piercing through you, as you sit down. his hands come to rest on the backs of your thighs, and without a word, leans forward to kiss you on the eyes. his gestures are delicate, as gentle as he can muster, and you know he’s trying to placate your worry. you return your affections by patting his chest, a signal for him to lie down.

he listens, eyes still watching you closely, hawk-like attention on your every move. he’s waiting, curious as to what you plan on doing today.

you begin. you first bend over, littering small kisses across his collarbones and chest. if blade’s in any pain, he makes no indication of it. you make your way up, leaving more kisses around his neck and the shell of his right ear, before hovering over his face. when this arrangement started, you remember being incredibly nervous, afraid he would judge and reject your advances. you’re more practiced now, of course, and without hesitation, lick at his lips. blade seems to ease up a little and responds by tilting his head in an effort to deepen the kiss and presses your body closer to his. it stays like this for a few minutes. the two of you have your eyes closed and are simply enjoying each other’s warmth.

you only pull away because you need to breathe. regardless, you’re growing eager, and you’re sure he is, too. you get up to remove your jacket and sleep shorts, but when blade reaches to undo his pants, you stop him.

“let me,” you whisper. “i’ll handle all of it.” now only in a loose t-shirt and panties, you sit back down on blade, except you’re faced away from him. you make quick work of his pants and peel back his briefs, revealing his half-hard cock that is stirring at the sudden touch of the cool air.

you always like to take your time with blade after going without him for so long. you spit into your hand and coat it generously. blade hisses when he feels your hand make contact with his cock. up and down, your rub your palm from his tip to his balls and back again. his cock gets harder and hotter under your touch, and the veins that climb up his cock become more pronounced. what you would do to take him in your mouth then and there, but you have to resist – this isn’t about you. when blade’s cock stands fully at attention, you wrap your hand around it and quicken your pace. you flick your fist sharply and tease his slit with your thumb between intervals.

behind you, blade pants and groans. you’re experienced in pleasuring the man, and you know when something is too much or too little for him. right now, you know you’re doing just right. as he gets louder, his cock leaks more pre-cum, and the desperate sight sends a throb straight to your core. finally, with a few more tugs of your hand, blade cums, cursing as he ejaculates into your hands with some of his cum splattering onto your forearm. you help him in coming down from his high, and you glance behind you.

with one arm thrown over his eyes and the other gripping onto the blanket, he’s breathing deep, ragged breaths. he already looks spent.

you ask, “should we stop here?”

harsher than he intended, blade commands, “keep going.” his voice is rough with exhaustion, but it’s still deep and husky, and his demand only edges you further along. you smile at the praise and nod in understanding, not that he’d see.

you slide your panties to the side. you’re already so wet, slick sticking and spreading along your inner thighs and pussy. blade’s already hard again, and you can only admire his stamina. as a brief intermission, you pick up his cock and begin to rub his tip along your folds. his cock is so hot, comforting against your own heat, and you sigh whenever his tip catches onto your clit. 

but it’s not enough. with every slip of cock, your yearning accelerates until it becomes overwhelming. when you have no more patience, with shaky legs, you sink down onto him. when the head of his cock pops past the entrance of your hole, you moan in relief and satisfaction. not even halfway in, and blade is already making you see stars.

blade is also having a very difficult time. he’s already delirious from all of the pain he had to endure for the past few weeks, yet he fell prey to his desires and is now suffering at the sensation of your soft, tight walls swallowing and trapping him in. it really is too much. in this position, he can admire the way the fat of your ass ripples whenever you move and your back arches beautifully, accentuating the curves of your hips and waist. at the very least, he’s grateful that he can’t see your face, or else he’d lose it at the sight of your aroused expressions. he can just imagine your lips parting, tongue lolling out, eyes crossing.

you feel so full when he’s fully in you that you have to sit still for a second. then, you slowly begin to bounce, shallow lifts of your hip that only come up an inch or so before you take him in completely again. it’s the perfect amount of pressure inside you. in fact, everything about blade seems to fit you well, and you have to ignore the thought of never fully having him.

if you had to describe blade, a few words come into mind: powerful, spiteful, lost. and you can feel these traits of his bleed into the present moment. he’s so tired and angry, frustrated that he has to live on in the universe, but because he has no choice, he will live on with steadfast and stubborn courage. you can only moan and drool with every heavy kiss of his cock against that gummy spot inside you. at some point, his hands have found their way to your waist, and his hands are gripping onto you so tightly that they’re bound to leave bruises. you can feel – practically taste – his emotions, and all you can do is just take it. it’s because you can’t do anything else that you’re content with just taking it. 

you’re sobbing, crying out from pleasure and distress. with one last push, you get up so that only blade’s tip is inside before dropping back down in a manner so rushed and sharp that you’re both cumming from it. he holds onto you and you onto his hands as you both climax.

you may never be able to help him with the mara or be fully his, but you know that, in this moment, no one in any galaxy or universe can make him experience this pleasure and release the way you can. and for now, you let yourself take pride and satisfaction with that. for now, that’s more than enough.

[crosshairlovebot]

falling for mr. batchbury / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: your feelings for Mr. Batchbury blossom as he and his brothers train on your father's estate before they go off to war. During his stay, you realise just how deep your feelings for him go, and maybe, just how much he feels for you too.

REGENCY AU

word count: 6,767

warnings: none. kissing. pining. secret crushes. love confessions.

i have loved the regency romance genre for such a long time, and i was struck with this idea and simply needed to realise it. this was SO fun to write. a good challenge, but mostly just an absolute delight. i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

PART ONE

Naval Officer Lieutenant Hugo ‘Hunter’ Batchbury had always been the kind of man who stood out in a crowd – whether he liked it or not. Not only did he sport a unique birthmark the rich colour of port wine across one side of his face, but his roguish handsomeness coupled with his taciturn air had every debutante of the ton vying for his attentions and hand in marriage.

It was vexing.

It was vexing for you, at least, to watch society fawn over the man who had held your heart for more than half a decade. He had been your secret – no one knew of Mr. Batchbury until after the Napoleonic Wars when he and his band of misfit brothers returned from sea.

Society relished in the gossip that the Batchbury family had made their fortune in the war. The tale of their enlisting was scintillating and circled the ton’s social circles like wildfire, whispers in every ballroom and gentleman’s club. Having initially enlisted in the Royal Navy to support their younger sister and save her from a life of destitution, Mr. Batchbury and his brothers moved through the ranks swiftly with the acquisition of prizemoney – their ship infamous for capturing many enemy ships, never losing a battle.

They were heroes in every sense of the word.

But you knew it before anyone else.

Your first encounter with the Batchbury family was when they arrived at your father’s estate for training with nearly nothing but the clothes on their backs. It was a highly irregular practice, but your empathetic father, a commodore of the Royal Navy, had allowed the Batchbury Brothers and their sister to stay with your family as they trained so they would not be separated from their younger sibling, who was but 13 years old with no other known family.

You and your mother had greeted them all upon arrival, politely welcoming them. 

They’d stepped out of the carriage one by one, the tallest and broadest of them first. You wondered how he’d fit inside the coach. Then the spectacled one, then the grey-haired one and then Mr. Batchbury, with his long hair and facial birthmark. You remembered taking in a breath at the sight of him in all his glory. With his brown skin and dark curls blowing in the morning breeze, you were already taken with him, but that only increased tenfold when you watched him turn to help his sister down from the carriage, lifting her from under her armpits and setting her down next to him. You’d been unable to hide your smile when you watched him take his sister's hand in his.

“Hello,” was all he’d said, inclining his head politely before his eyes moved across your mother and then met yours, lingering there.

You were smitten.

You barely remember what words were exchanged between your father and mother and the Batchburys. Just their names. William, Thomas, Carlisle, Hugo, and Meg. You remember curtsying politely when you were introduced, your face hot as you met Mr. Batchbury’s gaze with a small smile. You also remember the whole interaction was slightly awkward and stilted; the Batchbury Brothers unsure of how to accept your family’s generosity.

Meg, however, was eager and talkative. You liked her.

Once they started their training, you spent the coming weeks watching them from afar with Meg, who longed to join them. And boy, were they quite a sight. 

The Batchbury brothers were a healthy mix of brash, loud, clever and cunning. All close in age, they drew the eye in both looks and temperament, but they impressed your father astronomically. The four of them were his finest officers.

Finest in more ways than one, you often thought. Every single one of them was handsome in their own way, but the handsomeness of Mr. Hugo Batchbury had drawn your attentions immediately, and they have not strayed since.

You often spent hours looking out your drawing room window at the garden below, watching him train with his brothers and your father. He would grow sweaty and would end up wrapping a tie around his forehead to keep his collarbone length hair out of his face. Sometimes he would look up at the window, seeming to always know when someone was near, and wave at his sister before nodding at you. You’d flush every time.

You lost count of the number of times you had been scalded for daydreaming, thinking only of the way his ivory shirt billowed in the wind as he sparred with his brothers, a determined look on his face. But who could blame you? Daydreaming of Mr. Batchbury was, in fact, a better use of your time than embroidery.

In the evenings, the Batchbury family dined with your family. The thought thrilled you, knowing you would end every day in the company of Mr. Batchbury. He was often seated diagonally from you, giving you the perfect line of sight of his dark brown-grey eyes, his hooked nose, and his full lips. His face was truly sculpted by the Gods. You wished those dinners lasted all night, just so you could stare at him longer.

He would only engage in conversation when spoken to directly, otherwise, he remained quiet, only humming in agreement or nodding. Sometimes, you felt his eyes on you, but you were most likely imagining such things. 

His brothers were the same, quiet bar a few snide remarks from Carlisle towards William, who often pouted in response. Meg would giggle until she received a chiding look from Mr. Batchbury. His spectacled brother, Thomas, could chatter on about everything and anything. You rather liked all of them. 

You also enjoyed the way Mr. Batchbury’s mouth would quirk upwards at his brother’s ramblings. He truly was the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life.

There was one morning, early in his stay at your estate, where you encountered Mr. Batchbury outside of these timetabled activities, and from there began your tumbling down into love.

You walked through the gardens, taking the air after a morning of lessons. Meg was a quick learner, but she bored easily of learning tedious hobbies like pianoforte, and so did you. While she snuck down to the kitchens for more food, you decided to go for a walk.

Your mother had these gardens landscaped to include a small hedge maze in the south corner. No one entered it anymore, except for you, which meant there were no chances of being bothered until you reemerged. But as you followed the familiar pathway towards the centre of the maze, you were surprised to find Mr. Batchbury sitting sideways on the stone bench you usually occupied, his legs stretched across as he hunched over something.

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise, stopping in the entrance to the maze’s centre.

Mr. Batchbury startled uncharacteristically and twisted to see you, his strange-coloured eyes wide and curly hair lifting in the gentle breeze. He wore his training gear, sans the tie around his head. The strings of his shirt were open to reveal his deep brown skin with a smattering of dark curly hair right on his sternum. You felt heat grow in your cheeks and tingle between your thighs. You averted your eyes. It was one thing to view it from your window, but another to see it mere metres from you.

“I am terribly sorry, Mr. Batchbury,” you apologised. “I did not expect to find anyone here.”

Mr. Batchbury inclined his head and turned his body towards you. “It’s quite alright.”

His voice was smoky and deep, and you felt it right down to the core of you. You flushed again.

“Please excuse me, I’ll let you get back to your…” You peered down to his lap which held a sketchbook, with a portrait of a woman you couldn’t completely make out. You watched as Mr. Batchbury swiftly covered the sketch with his forearm. Your face burned at the embarrassment of encroaching on his private work.

“I’m sorry. Good day, Mr. Batchbury.”

You turned on your heel, desperately wanting to get out of there, walk into the lake and act out Ophelia’s death when his voice called out.

“Wait. Stay. I will go,” Mr. Batchbury closed his sketchbook and stood.

“That is not necessary, Mr. Batchbury. You were here first; I will find someplace else to hide from my mama.”

Mr. Batchbury’s mouth lifted in amusement, his entire face brightening at the show of delight. “In that case, we both must stay. I am also hiding...but from my brothers.”

You smiled and took a tentative step towards him. “Is that so? I can’t imagine why you would hide from them.”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head. “You would if you were permitted to spend an afternoon with them.”

You laughed lightly and when Mr. Batchbury gestured to the stone bench for you to sit down, you obliged. Your whole body alighted when you felt him sit down next to you, hyperaware of his strong arms inches from yours as he placed his sketchbook on the other side of him. After a moment of silence, you spoke up again.

“Are you quite certain that I am not intruding?” you asked, turning towards him.

Mr. Batchbury nodded. “I am quite sure. It is nice to have polite and quiet company.”

You smiled. “Your brothers do not often speak at dinner. Except for Thomas, of course.”

Mr. Batchbury took in a breath as he stared out towards the hedge. “My brothers and I are not used to high-born life. And I have told them to be on their best behaviour at dinner. In private, my brothers talk and argue often.”

You studied his profile. Up close, you could see the way the edges of his birthmark were not exact lines and instead seemed to fade into the skin around it. You wanted to reach out and touch it, trace the imperfect lines with the tip of your finger softly and feel the roughness of his stubble as you moved across his face gently. But it would be extremely improper, so you curled your fingers into your palm tightly to suppress the urge.

“I imagine it has been an adjustment staying here whilst you train with my father.”

Mr. Batchbury linked his own hands together. “He is a great man. But yes, it has. I believe my brothers are anxious to go to war, just to escape the expectations of being guests. My sister, on the other hand, is quite enjoying her time. She was very pleased to hear your father will be allowing her to stay whilst we go abroad to fight.”

A warm smile danced on his face at the mention of his sister. You knew he was the eldest, and so the care of her fell mostly onto him. But he did not seem burdened by it. In fact, he seemed to enjoy being the parental figure for his sister. And Meg spoke of him often, telling you stories of how he would stay with her at night in their old cottage, curling around her to keep warm when they ran out of coals. Or how he would give her at least half of his food, even if it was their only meal of the day and he was starving. These tales not only solidified how much he loved his sister and what he was willing to sacrifice for her, but stoked the flaming crush you had on him. 

He was already a hero to his sister, and he hadn’t even gone to war yet.

“I will be glad to continue to have her company,” you told him honestly.

Mr. Batchbury met your eyes and smiled at you, and you felt the air leave your lungs. He left you breathless, and to receive such a smile from him…one so unfiltered, warm, and so genuine, you felt lucky. His whole face lit up, his eyes bright as they creased at the sides. The feelings bubbling inside your stomach only grew. You averted your gaze, face heating.

You quickly moved the conversation on. “Are you anxious to leave as well?”

“In some ways. But in others…” Mr. Batchbury trailed off, gaze lingering in your periphery before he shook his head and continued. “I will miss Meg terribly. But we have to protect her, do what we can to ensure she is safe.”

You felt your heart squeeze at his words. His devotion was unmatched, and you had the sudden wish to be included in it; for him to be so devoted to you. What would it be like to be loved by Mr. Batchbury? You imagined it would be rather wonderful.

“It was very admirable, what you are doing for her,” you said, smoothing the fabric of your gown.

Mr. Batchbury only shrugged. “Anyone would do such a thing for their family.”

You looked at him with a smirk. “I would not be so certain.”

He sounded genuinely surprised by this, blinking at you as he placed a hand on his rather muscular thigh and turned his body to you. “No?”

“I’m sure there are many out there who would simply send their siblings off to school,” you told him. “I know of men who do that now, who are not at war, so they do not have the responsibility of caring for a child beyond sending tuition money.”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head. “I can’t imagine leaving any of my siblings behind like that, let alone Meg. I don’t even want to leave her behind at all, but war is no place for a child.”

You gazed at him, and you could not hide your admiration. How could a man like this exist and not be a figment of your imaginings? He must have been sent from heaven, for a man on Earth could never be so exceptional, so lovely.

“You are a good man, Mr. Batchbury.”

Mr. Batchbury met your gaze and watched you with an expression you could not recognise. No matter how much you wished, no matter how much you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, you could not look away from him. His brown-grey eyes bore into you, like they were seeing into your soul, and giving you a window into his. When you looked at him, you saw someone so kind and so unselfish, so devoted to his family and to keeping his sister safe. Someone willing to put himself in danger in the hope that she would be taken care of in his absence. His heart was huge, and he downplayed all of it, acting like it was not a choice, but something he simply did because he loved. 

When Mr. Batchbury loved, you'd learnt, he loved faithfully and unwaveringly. His heart found a place to belong, and then never moved. It was a mountainous kind of heart, that stalled and weathered storms for those it loved and shielded them from harm, that remained strong for eternity.

Oh, how you longed to experience it.

You absently parted your lips and watched as Mr. Batchbury’s eyes darted towards the movement. He gazed there, zeroing in on your mouth for a moment too long before he cleared his throat and abruptly looked away. 

“I should find my brothers; ensure they have not caused any trouble while I’ve been hiding.” He stood up, gathering his sketchbook and pencils, sounding a little breathless.

“Yes, o-of course.” You could barely string a sentence together, overcome with how much you felt for this man, and how he just looked like he had wanted to kiss you.

“Thank you for the company,” Mr. Batchbury inclined his head before quickly walking away, back through where you came from, his footsteps light against the gravel. 

You took a deep breath and attempted to calm your racing heart. But you feared your heart would forever be hurried as long as Mr. Batchbury continued to exist in the same time as you.

In the several weeks that followed, you would have unplanned meetings with Mr. Batchbury in the maze. At least, they began as unplanned, before you both found excuses to meet each other there. It was so easy being with him, to talk to him and laugh with him. Some days you would regale him with tales of your childhood, and then beg him to tell you of his, no matter how fleeting it had been due to their circumstance and his position as eldest sibling. On others, you both did not talk at all, only sat beside each other, you with a book, and him with his sketchbook aimed away from your eyes.

One day, after many meetings in which your feelings for him grew beyond your known capacity, you taught him several dances. By his request, surprisingly.

“I did not take you as one to dance,” you teased him, standing up and walking several metres to where there was a space for you both to dance unobstructed.

You watched as the port wine stain across Mr. Batchbury’s face deepened slightly in colour. Was he blushing? “I am not. I think it will help with…my training.”

You gave him a strange look before you began teaching him.

“Now half turn, and pass by my shoulder,” you told him, and he followed your instruction. He was a fast learner, and as it turns out, a fine dancer. Perhaps the entire Batchbury clan were quick studies.

“Hold my hands, and we turn together,” you instructed.

You felt his hands encircle yours and through the barely there lace of your gloves, you felt the heat of his palms on yours. You hitched a breath as his fingers curled to hold yours firmly; securely. You met his eyes, which were on yours in an intense gaze that left you breathless. You dared not look away from his eyes, one side surrounded by his birthmark, as he turned with you. You forgot what choreography came next as you both turned slowly around each other, moving closer and closer, hands intertwined. 

Eventually, you slowed to a stop, but neither of you moved to break apart. Your noses nearly touched, and you’d never been so close to a man in your life. You could feel his breath on your skin, and you were sure he could hear just how fast your heart was beating. Mr Batchbury’s hold on your hands was the only thing that tethered you to the Earth, nothing else could be comprehended but his touch and his eyes. You felt the pad of this thumb gently move across your knuckles in a gesture you’d only read about in books. You inhaled softly, heart expanding in your chest.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed.

“Yes,” he breathed back.

“I…I don’t remember what comes next,” you whispered, not sure what else to say.

Mr. Batchbury blinked several times, as if he suddenly realised where he was and how intimate their position had been, and took a step back, placing distance between you both. He then looked down at your hands and then gently let them go.

“I’m very sorry. That wasn’t…” He paused before he settled on, “Right.”

You quickly shook your head, wishing he would come closer once again. “No, it’s quite alright. Really.”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head. “No. It’s not. Your father would not be pleased.”

“I care little of what my father thinks. And we were only dancing.”

“Dancing,” he repeated like he was unsure himself.

“Dancing,” you confirmed. You held out your hand, desperate for him to take it again. “Please, let us continue.”

Mr. Batchbury looked at your hand hesitantly before he took it again, this time his hold loose and non-committal and you longed for the way he held you just minutes ago.

You raced through the rest of the dance, and when you had finished, Mr. Batchbury thanked you before making an excuse and leaving swiftly. You sighed and sat on the bench, thinking back to the way he had looked at you; the hold he’d had on your hand and the way he’d moved his thumbs across your knuckles. He had been so close…surely…surely he had wanted to kiss you? No one looked at someone like that, held someone like that in a dance without the hope that their lips would meet their partners…right? You put your head in your hands. You did not know, and there was no one you could ask. 

You wished he had. You wished he had pressed his lips to yours, and ended your misery. You imagined it endlessly. You thought of the way he would hold you close against him as he moved his lips against yours. His looked so soft, you imagined they’d feel soft too. They’d be gentle, coaxing, teaching yours. You’d place your fingers into his hair, tangling them in the curly locks hoping they’d get trapped in there, chaining you to him forever. He was so proficient in everything else he did, surely he would be when it came to kissing too. 

Oh, yes, you thought. To kiss Mr. Batchury would be heavenly indeed.

The next day, you weren’t sure you would find Mr. Batchbury in the maze. As much as you wished differently, you suspected that after yesterday afternoon’s dance lesson, you would not see him again until the evening. 

But you reached the centre of the maze and saw him sitting there with his back to you, no doubt his sketchbook on his lap. He had tilted his head slightly at the sound of your footsteps – his hearing was exceptional.

You swallowed and began to walk towards him. He turned to face you, swivelling his body as he made room for you on the bench. He pulled his sketchbook to his chest, hiding the pages from your eyes.

“I apologise for yesterday,” he said. “I should not have been so…”

“We were only dancing,” you were quick to reassure.

He did not say anything, he only looked at you, something indiscernible passing over his face as you watched his hands tighten on his sketchbook, the pages squeezing under his fingertips. You watched him curiously, trying to decipher the crease of his brow. If you were brave enough, and were sure your actions would not scare him away yet again, you would push the pad of your thumb into the lines formed between his brow, flatten them gently until they were gone. Your need to touch him only intensified after how close you’d been to him yesterday. To feel the tickle of his breath on your cheeks tease how easy it would’ve been to close the distance was a cruel twist of the knife into your feelings for Mr. Batchbury, knowing you would not get that close again. 

After several beats of silence that seemed to feel endless in your agony, he said, “My brothers and I will be departing tomorrow at dawn. Your father says we are ready.”

Your breath hitched in surprise. “Oh.” 

You felt your throat close up. You knew it was coming, but did it have to be so soon? You had grown so used to his presence these several weeks, to seeing him training, to dining with him, to spending these precious hours with him in the maze…how would you do without him? And he was going to war no less…the thought that he might never return was so violent you felt it proverbially slam into you, and you had to grip the edge of the stone bench to steady yourself.

And even if–when, when he came back, so much could change while he was away. Your mother would surely take you to London for another tedious season, desperate for you to make a match. Only none would live up to Mr. Batchbury. And if you did marry at your mother’s behest, he would return, and your feelings would come back stronger than ever, only now there was no chance of anything to come of you both. He would surely find someone else, and marry them instead.

You felt like crying. You wanted him to stay. But he never would, and it would be selfish and foolish to ask.

It seemed as though Mr. Batchbury would be someone you were only meant to know for a short time. 

“I’m sure you and your brothers will be missed by your sister,” you managed to choke out. And by me. I will miss you so terribly I fear my chest will break open with the ache of it.

Mr. Batchbury gave a pained expression. “I feel sick at the thought of leaving her.”

You didn’t stop yourself this time, placing a hand on his forearm. “I will look after her. She will be okay. I promise you, Mr. Batchbury,”

He looked at you, brows slanted in a way that broke your heart and mouth stretched into the saddest of smiles. “That is my only comfort, knowing you will be there for her.”

“It is the least I can do,” you strained out, forcing a tight-lipped smile you only hoped fooled him into thinking you did not feel as much as you did.

He looked at you, eyes darting over your face for several moments before looking away, his knuckles white with their hold on his sketchbook. You traced your gaze across his profile, outlining the hook of his nose against the overcast sky. You had already memorised it, but you allowed yourself one last look. If you were accomplished at drawing, you would’ve filled sketchbooks with his face, a visual ode to his beauty, and a eulogy of your love.

“I should go,” he cleared his throat. “Ensure we are ready, spend as much time with Meg as I can.”

You blinked away tears. “Of course.” Would he really say nothing more to you? After all this time spent together?

Mr. Batchbury stood up and in the movement, his sketchbook dropped on the ground in front of you, page splayed open to his drawings. You looked down and inhaled a sharp breath when you finally laid your eyes upon the sketches that had evaded you.

The drawings…they were all of you.

Mr. Batchbury bent to hastily pick up the book and close it roughly and caged the book against his chest, concealing the drawings of you once again. You looked up at him, mouth parted in shock as he pointedly avoided your eyes the port wine stain on his face growing darker as he blushed. 

“Mr. Batchbury–”

“I must go,” he strangled out and started to walk. 

You couldn’t let him leave like this. Not now. Not when you’d just discovered this; his sketches of you. You stood abruptly and blocked his path, your hand raised in a stop motion which he bumped into. “Wait, please.”

His expression was full of anguish as he finally met your eyes. But you needed to know, even if he wished you didn’t.

You turned your palm up between you slowly, your brows slanted as you looked towards him. You watched his eyes move down to look at your waiting hand and then back to your eyes. 

“May I…?” you breathed.

You watched his arms flex as he hesitated, his chest rising and falling behind the sketchbook. After a moment, he reluctantly handed it over. You opened it gingerly and began to slowly comb through the pages. 

The book started with florals, landscapes, and portraits of his brothers and sister before they slowly became interpolated with the sketches of you. Your heart raced as you looked through them. There were so many. You knew he had little money at all, let alone for something as frivolous as an art book, and yet he’d filled so many pages with you. With you sitting at dinner, of you laughing, you from the drawing room window, you on the bench reading. 

He'd filled a sketchbook with you.

All these weeks, he’d been looking at you as you looked at him? This whole time? 

You then landed on the most striking of all – your eyes yesterday, up close as he’d stared into them as you danced. 

They were remarkable, and all done by memory – you hadn’t sat for a single one.

You looked up at him, and his eyes flicked to yours, an expression a combination of pain and embarrassment as his port wine stain was still darkened with blush.

Your voice was but a whisper. “They’re all of me.”

“Yes,” he rasped, but his eyes never left yours.

“W-Why?”

“Because you are bewitching to me,” he told you, his voice stronger now. He’d answered it like he could not believe you had to ask, like he was shocked it was not obvious to you. Like it was fueled with the truth. Mr. Batchbury did not lie, and his words were spoken with conviction, as sure as the mountains his heart mirrored. “Because I am unable to go a single moment without you in my thoughts, and I’m not sure I ever want to be free of such notions.”

You gaped at him. “Mr. Batchbury–”

“I apologise if I overstepped.” He spoke directly, as though he had embraced his truth; his actions. Like he was no longer embarrassed, but rather empowered and confident in how he felt. “I should have asked. But how could I?”

You did not know. Maybe if you weren’t reeling from his confession, you would have an answer for him. But even then, perhaps there was no right way to say you wished to capture someone’s likeness tens of times over.

You wanted to speak, but you were shocked. You were bewitching to him ? He could not stop thinking about you ? You could hardly believe it to be true. You could hardly believe that a man like Mr. Batchbury had been occupied with thoughts of you . You, a mere earthling to an ethereal angel such as him.

But Mr. Batchbury did not lie. He was as faithful as the mountains, after all.

At your growing silence, he perceived this as your disapproval of his actions; of his feelings. He took a shaky breath as he slowly took the book from you and closed it.

“I…I have upset you,” he deduced, dejected. “I–”

You cut him off, desperate to tell him of your own feelings. Desperate to say you thought of him the same. “You have not upset me.”

Mr. Batchbury’s brows raised and his eyes widened in surprise. You swallowed as he gazed upon you. If he had been brave enough to tell you, you could tell him. But how? What words? What arrangement of phrases could you string together to fully convey the extent of what you felt for this man? You feared you could not. But you would try.

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “You…are so incredibly cruel for telling me this now, when you cannot stay.”

You watched his expression as he registered your words and what they implied, as they sunk into his bones. You watched his mouth part with a breath and his shoulders relax – you had not even been able to tell how truly anxious he had been waiting to know how you felt.

He shook his head, his voice quiet once again, but still held the strength of his truth. “I know.”

“And yet,” you took a breath as you smiled at him, eyes stinging at the bittersweet moment of the truths you were unveiling. “I cannot be angry with you, not when my heart is completely and utterly yours.”

Mr. Batchbury sucked in a breath at your words. You watched his eyes soften around the edges as the breeze blew through his curls, lifting them off his shoulders at the same time the corners of his mouth lifted slightly too. His grip on the sketchbook slackened. Your heart warmed at the expression on his face, the look of disbelief mixed with joy.

His voice was softer than you’d ever heard it, that smokiness only highlighting the vulnerability of his words. “You truly mean that?”

You let out a breathy laugh, smiling. “I do.”

He dropped his sketchbook, falling to the side of you both as he stepped forward and took your hands in his, squeezing them gently and securely. His palms pressed into yours, the warmth travelling under your skin and igniting your insides. His chest brushed against yours and you looked up into his brown-grey eyes, watching the way light seemed to dance in them when he was happy. 

“Tell me again.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you squeezed his hands as the words fell out of your mouth earnestly and easily. “My heart is yours.”

Mr. Batchbury sighed, closing his eyes and pulling you flush against him, pressing his forehead to yours, his arms now encircling your waist. You gasped, placing your hands on his chest. You let your eyes fall closed as your noses touched. You were even closer than you had been yesterday – though now you couldn’t believe you thought that had been close, not when you were pressed against him like this. 

You catalogued every detail of his body against yours. Even through your corset, you felt the hardness of his chest. He was so warm and solid, and under your hands, you could feel the steady beat of his heart moving rapidly, matching yours. His breath tickled your skin, and you breathed it in, his hot breath filling your lungs.  He smelt of soap and cedar and it was entirely intoxicating. You had to find a way to bottle this smell up, and keep it under your pillow to breathe in. He had completely engulfed you, physically and emotionally.

And you never wanted him to stop.

You felt his throat vibrate, the deep tenor of his voice trembling under your hands. It was like he was speaking inside you. His voice was husky and you felt the breath of his words on your lips. 

“One more time.”

You did not hesitate. “I am yours.”

He kissed you then, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that felt like your entire body was on fire. You drew in a breath as you felt his hold on you tighten, his head tilting as he moved his lips against yours. You had never been kissed before, but something told you that kissing did not always feel like this. Just as he engulfed you before, he overwhelmed you now. His mouth was hot, and passionate, his kisses deep as one hand cradled your head to his. He kissed like he loved; faithfully, strongly. You could never guess what was in his heart when he kissed like this. It was obvious.

You had imagined kissing Mr. Batchbury would be heavenly. But it was better than that. His full lips were soft, as you thought, and though his kiss was passionate, it was never controlling or taking without permission. His kisses coaxed you, draw you further into him.

You moaned into the kiss and you felt his hold on your body tighten again. Your mouths opened for air, but you did not end this embrace. You moved your hands into his hair and fisted his curls as you'd always wished to, and drew him in closer again, kissing him once again. You could not get enough. How could you stop? It was dizzying. You felt his groan against your hands and lips as he deepened the kiss once more before pulling back. 

He did not go far, and neither did you. He pressed his forehead into yours once again, noses against each other and you both caught your breath.

“Am I dreaming?” You spoke without thinking.

Mr. Batchbury’s chuckle sent every nerve ending in your body tingle. “I hope not.”

You laughed lightly and drew back a little to see Mr. Batchbury’s smile. What a sight to behold, the way his cheeks stretched to accommodate such joy on his features. His eyes seemed to sparkle too. You felt dazed, like you’d just seen heaven on Earth.

You allowed yourself to trace the outline of his birthmark with your finger, just as you’d always imagined doing. You felt Mr. Batchbury’s arms encircle your waist, his eyes never leaving your face as you performed your featherlight ministrations down his forehead, across his cheek and all the way to his chin.

“You have to come back,” you whispered, your voice breaking a little.

He blinked at you, and you felt his face move under your fingers as he spoke, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “You’re willing to wait for me?”

You frowned at him. “How could you ask that when I just told you I am yours?”

Mr. Batchbury shook his head and leaned in again to kiss you once more. This kiss was much shorter than the one that preceded it. And it was sweeter too. You smiled into the kiss before he pulled away. The expression on his face one of uncertainty.

“What about your father? He will not approve.”

You shook your head, fingers moving to his curls, pushing them back and tucking them behind his ear. “He likes you a great deal.”

“Maybe. But I am…” He trailed off and you frowned and cradled his face in your hand. He kissed your palm as if it was instinct.

“You are what?”

Mr Batchbury bit his lips as lifted a hand from your waist and cupped your jaw, his thumb running across your cheekbone as he looked at you with such devotion you thought you might cry. 

“Poor. I have nothing to offer you, my love. And I am going to war.”

Your heart squeezed. Had this been the source of his hesitation all along? You shook your head. “I do not need anything but this–” 

You placed the hand that held his face on his heart. You felt it pick up under your palm as you gazed into his eyes. You watched his face cycle through several emotions before it seemed to land on adoration. His eyes softened, and his birthmark deepened in colour before he shook his head.

“Bewitching,” he whispered before he leaned in to kiss you again. You felt his every emotion in this kiss as if you truly had fused together, feeling each other's emotions as your own. You felt his love, his devotion, his agony. You wished he did not have to go. But he had his duty to his family. It was cruel that you had managed to know the tiniest feeling of what it would be like to be loved by Mr. Batchbury, and now had to give it up. How could the stars be so vicious? To pull you both together, only to rip you apart again. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as you moved your mouth against his, deepening the kiss until tears fell down your cheeks and he pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours, a strangled sound coming from his throat. 

You opened your eyes to see his full of anguish and pain. When he saw the tears that stained your cheeks, he brought the backs of his fingers to your cheek and brushed them away gently. You sniffled as he cradled your face with both hands before pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. When he met your eyes again, his expression was determined.

“I will come back.” He meant it and believed it.

“Promise me,” was all your voice was strong enough for.

“I promise.” His voice was smokey and hard. Immovable devotion – that was Mr. Batchbury. A mountainous heart that loved fiercely. That loved you fiercely. “I will come back and marry you so I can love you forever.”

You could no longer speak in fear of sobbing in his arms. So you kissed him once more, doing everything you could to memorise the feel of him, so when you woke the next morning and he was nowhere to be found, you could fall back into your daydreams, this time knowing what he felt like and that you would feel it again one day.

He promised you.

Now, almost half a decade, an earned nickname, and a conclusion of a war later, you watched him from the other side of the ballroom. And when Mr. Batchbury – Hunter, as he was now known, met your gaze, he smiled at you knowingly, his eyes soft with the same love you remembered from the maze. You returned it before excusing yourself from the conversation you were not listening to, and disappeared from the ballroom towards the gardens.

banner art by @vimse i hope you enjoyed this FIRST installment. yes, FIRST, bc what is a regency romance without a steamy encounter...hehehe ANYWAY stay tuned!!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @hopelessromantic727 @rebel-ezra @lulalovez

TAGLIST FORM

[icycoldninja]

Can you write the DMC boys with a half-devil fem reader who still has problem controlling her demonic half and keeping it in line?

Like her demonic side can easily be triggered by her strongest emotions ranging from sorrow, fear and anger. If her emotions reaches a certain point, the demonic will take advantage to take over, tearing itself out of its host to make its presence known to its victims.

Or it can be because of irregular hormone patterns, which can explain how she can devil trigger during that time of the month randomly

The first time she triggered, it was when she had found out about her father’s infidelity when she was a teenager and it triggered all emotions at once, specifically from disgust to sorrow to rage in a chronological order. Because of the irregular shifts of her emotions all happening at once, making it an easy passageway for the devil to take charge of her, turning it into a gore fest to enact its vengeance against her father and his mistress for wrecking her family.

(You know how teenager’s emotions are easily triggered by hormones right? So yeah, her demonic side had it easy when she was younger due to how emotional she was)

And now when she’s older, she had much more control over it, but sometimes, she finds it hard to control herself, considering she can possibly trigger due to surges of adrenaline. If she gets too excited, horny, etc then yeah…devil trigger time

And when she devil triggers…it’s going to be everyone’s problem

So yeah, God basically decided to play favorites and chose a woman whose emotions and hormones that are easily triggered to be able to shift into a homicidal devil-spawn who lives off of goring some poor bastards that may or may have not accidentally breathed way too loud to its liking and now everyone had to deal with it

———————————————————————————

P/S: Her devil trigger form looks just like Chainsaw man from the manga with the same name if u don’t mind

Of course!

Sparda boys + V x Fem!Struggling half-devil!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-You're a real basketcase who could transform into a bloodthirsty devil at any given moment, so he's careful not to do anything that would send your emotions into overdrive.

-Still, things like this are hard to prevent, and you do end up Truggering quite frequently.

-Dante has found a way to tie you down and keep you from causing too much trouble, but it's a pain in the butt and usually ends with him sporting several major injuries.

-Your demon has taken a liking to him, though, and over time, opts for a less violent, yet extremely draining activity until it calms down and you go back to normal, if you know what I mean.

-Dante does his best to keep up, but that demon is powerful, it's exhausting even him, the legendary devil hunter.

-With persistence, however, you guys manage to get your demon side a little more under control, even if change if minimal.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil saw how easy it was for you to lose control, and fearing for your own safety, he decided to train you.

-He works with you, helping you through any mental obstacles in the hopes that this will help you get a better grip on your literal tormentor.

-His ideas don't always work, but the majority of the time, they do.

-When your demon gets out, he won't try to restrain you because he knows that will just make you more agitated. Instead, he somehow gets your Triggered self to sit down with him and just talk (or growl) your issues out.

-Vergil is the only one who can keep your Devil Trigger from going on a bloodthirsty killing spree, and he's all the more terrifying for that.

□ Nero □

-Nero can sense when you're about to Trigger and tackles you right as you turn.

-This keeps your devil form from rocketing off at the speed of light, which, if allowed to happen, is very bad.

-Sometimes he has to use his own DT to keep yours pinned to the ground. This whole situation looks stupid as hell, but at least it works.

-He gives both you and your DT plenty of hugs and encouraging words to try and calm you down.

-This works, really well, and over time, your DT becomes noticably more docile around him.

-It's still insanely violent towards everyone else, so Nero needs to put you into isolation as soon as your Trigger, or there will be bloodshed.

● V ●

-V was rather frightened of you very large and obviously insanely powerful DT when he first saw it.

-Over time, however, V grews to find your DT beautiful, in its own gargoyle-ish way.

-He reminded himself whenever he gets scared that it was still you under all that and that he should try to help you instead of cowering in fear.

-So he tried, and even though there was little he could do given his physical condition, with his words. he managed to get you to stay wit him instead of running off.

-Your DT is now as calm with him as his own familiars are with him. It would be cute, if you weren't a hulking monster.

-V tries his best to keep your emotions under control, but when hormones kick in, he can only stand back and watch, hoping your DT recognizes him and chooses to stay by his side.

[randomblognumberfuck]

Why This Reploid Babygirling

[secondaxispoint]

Din Djarin x Male!Mando!Reader

Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Mando!Reader

Warning: None!

Content: Fluff

This is from Din’s perspective so the reader has a nickname. No use of y/n. Hope you guys enjoy!

Partners

Din had been so used to living alone that when another Mandalorian offered to join him in his travels, it took him a while to come to terms with it. The man was quiet and intelligent. He was a bit taller than him and had a broad frame. Din had watched the other hunter in action and was surprised he had never met him before. His reddish tinted beskar and durasteel armour looked similar to his own, Mandalorian sigil forged proudly on his shoulder.

Once Din had stepped on board, along with his new partner, he was pleasantly greeted by Grogu. He smiles under his helmet and leans down to pick the creature up. He turns to the other man and starts introductions.

“This is Grogu, Grogu this is…”

He pauses, releasing that he never got a name from the other hunter. He looks up from the little beast he held in his arms. A bit of tension left his shoulders when he heard the warrior laugh through his helmet and step a bit closer.

“Jackal. Nice to meet you little guy.”

Din watches as he leans down and reaches a hand to Grogu who giggles happily and grabs one of his gloved fingers. 

“You can get to know him after we get out of here. For now you should get familiar with the controls and layout of the ship.”

Jackal nods and Grogu releases his grip. Din puts him down and makes for the small area where he keeps his weapons. Jackal’s rifle is still clasped to his back and his blaster is still on his hip. He’d have to clear a spot for the other’s weapons. But for now, Din puts his stuff away and leads the man to the very front of the ship. When he hears Jackal’s footsteps become irregular, he looks back to see that Grogu has attached himself to the taller man's calf.

“Y’know it would be easier for both of you if you just picked him up.”

He heard Jackal stifle a laugh as he bent down to pick up the clingy child. Once he had Grogu securely in his arms, he continued on behind Din.

It took a few hours, but the three finally found a safe place to rest for a while. Jackal volunteered to stay up a bit longer due to the lack of space in the ship. Din felt sort of bad but trusted the man to his own devices. He tried to retreat back to his and Grogu’s cramped sleeping quarters but the little one refused to go with him. Grogu climbed up and forced himself into Jackal’s lap. He chuckled and told Din that it was okay and that he would watch over Grogu while he slept.

Din had slept through most of the night, only waking when he heard a quiet knock on the shudder. He opens it to see Jackal standing with a sleeping Grogu in his arms. He silently shuffled out of the sleeping area and offered it to the other. Jackal had a bit tougher time fitting in the makeshift bed but he made it work. Din stretched and prepared himself for the day.

Two years later, the three of you were still together. Din and Jackle had been dancing around their feelings for eachother for over half of it. They shared little moments here and there but never explicitly confronted the other about it. Neither of them wanted to ruin the partnership that they had been building. So feelings continue to go unacknowledged. At least they do until a bounty goes sideways and Jackal almost gets himself killed trying to save Din.

So they both sit in the Razor Crest, panting and bloody. The ship was completely silent besides the ragged breaths coming from the hunters. Grogu was safe and sound with Peli, far away from the shit storm the two created for themselves. Din noticed the stiff and pained posture Jackal had taken. He stood and walked over to the medical area, grabbing a kit, and bringing it back to Jackal.

Din assisted Jackal, laying him down on the floor, and taking his armour off. Albeit not being the cleanest place to tend to an open wound, it was all they had at the moment. With his chest piece off and his weapon put aside, Jackal helped pull the undershirt up enough so that Din could tend to his injury. He had a large vertical gash on his lower left abdomen. Din saw that his midsection was littered with varying healed scars.

He stitches up and bandages the slash before leaning back giving the other some breathing room. Sitting back on his heels, he watched Jackal’s chest rise and fall steadily. Jackal reaches a hand to Din, which he grasps in his own. He helped the man sit up and get up into the co-pilot’s seat in the control room. He grabbed a fresh set of clothes for the injured hunter and gave him some privacy to change. Din stood outside the door, nervously swaying back and forth.

He waited for Jackal to trudge out, hand on his side. Din let out a sigh of relief and offered Jackal his armour back. He didn’t put it back on, instead opting to set it aside and sitting back down in his seat with a groan. Din moved behind him, too restless to sit. He put his hand on the back of Jackal’s chair and spun it around. He wanted to make absolute sure that his partner was going to be okay.

Jackal tilted his head, confused. Din knelt down in front of him with his hands on both sides of the armrests. Jackal said nothing but leaned forward slightly. Din moved his hands down to Jackal’s knees, not pressing any further, just simply setting them there. Din could hear his breath hitch through his helmet. Jackal sat stiff and still until Din started to pull away. Neither man said anything. Jackal grabbed one of Din’s hands and pulled him up to eye level. Slowly leaning forward, Din gently touched his helmet to Jackal’s. He leaned back and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

Jackal asked, genuinely concerned. Din looked up, and got an idea.

“Do you trust me?”

Din asked the man in front of him.

“With my life.”

The ease with which he said it made Din a bit dizzy.

“Sit tight.”

Din walked to the control panel and Jackal heard him flip a few switches. The lights dimmed and then turned off fully, leaving the men in almost complete darkness. Din carefully moved back in front of Jackal and kneeled in front of him once again. He slowly takes his helmet off and audibly sets it down, hoping Jackal knows what he’s implying. Luckily he does.

He hears Jackal take off his helmet and gently presses it into his hand for him to put down. After placing the helmet down next to his own, Din leaned back up. He stopped about an inch away, he could feel Jackal’s breath on his face.

“Is this okay?”

Din asked in a hushed tone. Instead of responding, Jackal closed the distance between them. The kiss is slow and meaningful. Almost two years of pent up feelings and unresolved tension shone through their intimacy. Jackal moved his hand up and rested it on the back of Din’s neck, the other cupped his jaw. Din tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Jackal was the first to pull away for air but Din didn’t want the kiss to end. He moved down to pepper Jackal’s neck in love bites and small kisses. Din felt a groan rumble in the back of Jackal’s throat. He finally pulled back and listened to the other man pant in the darkness. Din started to stand up but before he could, Jackal grabbed his hands once again. Only this time he pulled Din towards him.

Din was tugged into Jackal’s lap. Once he was comfortable and not anywhere near Jackal’s injury, Din grabbed both sides of his face and yanked him in again. This time their kiss was more heated. Hands wandered. They both made the most of it since they were probably never going to see each other's faces. Jackal felt the stubble on Din’s face, and ran his fingers through his soft hair.

Although Din couldn’t see, he could imagine what the man in front of him looked like. Flushed cheeks with half-lidded and glossed over eyes. He felt as his cheeks started to burn at the thought. Din was shocked back into reality by a pained groan coming from Jackal. He jumped out of the man’s lap and apologised for losing focus.

“It’s alright Din I’m okay. But maybe we should take a little break for today.”

Jackal chuckled lightly and Din smiled into the darkness. Din fumbled around the ground and grabbed the helmets, putting his on and handing Jackal his. Once both of the Mandalorians were covered, Din slowly turned the lights back on. He saw Jackal, still seated, with his clothes a bit ruffled. He was breathing a bit heavier than normal but other than that he looked okay. He walked back over and offered to lead the fellow hunter back to the makeshift bed with a concealed smile. Jackal accepted his offer gratefully, and the two packed themselves in the small space. They both slept peacefully for the first time in years.

[cowgurrrl]

Day After Tomorrow

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: “Lover, hunter, friend and enemy/ You will always be every one of these.” — Love and War by Fleurie aka winter part ii [3.0k]

Warnings: (probably) incorrect wound care, mentions of deceased loved ones (what's new), mother-daughter arguing although neither of them realizes that's what it is, Chekov's gun if you squint real hard

It's been days, and Joel hasn't moved from his spot. You and Ellie come up with your own watch schedule to keep each other safe and make sure Joel doesn't die in the middle of the night. You stay up throughout the night and let her take over once the sun rises in the morning, but you don't sleep. Every time you lay down next to Joel's mattress, all you can do is count his breaths and watch his sleeping form. The only time you've actually been able to sleep was when Ellie suggested laying next to him instead of on the floor to keep warm. You've seen her do it, and if he cares, he doesn't make it clear. If anything, he subconsciously leans into her. Still, you're hesitant until you curl up next to him and feel his beating heart under your hand. You fall asleep counting the contractions of his heart and silently pray that it doesn't stop before you can wake up.

You've only left a few times to raid the other houses in the neighborhood, tearing rooms apart and looking for first aid kits or leftover antibiotics. The closest thing you find is a smattering of codeine left in someone's medicine cabinet and some more towels. Anything else that might've been valuable has been picked over or lost to the elements. You find an extra blanket in one house and throw it at Ellie when you return. "Told ya I'd find something," you tease as you take off your backpack, the forced lilt in your voice enough to make her smile. You have to fight Joel to get the opiate into his system, but the bubbling pain caused by his stitches seems to outweigh sobriety. You want to make a joke that you think NA would make an exception for this, but he's unconscious again by the time you think of it.

You catch the symptoms of an infection before Ellie can. The skin around his stitches is inflamed and red, and he's spiked a fever in the last few hours. When you check his pulse, it's fast and irregular, and he's shaking under the blankets. You contemplate taking out the sutures, but it's too early. If you take them out, he could start bleeding again, and his body might not have enough strength left to clot. You sigh and scrub a hand down your face as you weigh your options.

"Is he gonna die?" Ellie asks suddenly, breaking the eerie silence filling the basement, and you tear your eyes away from Joel to look at her. It's only been a week, but Ellie looks like she's aged three years since you've been down here. Her cheeks have hollowed, and the bags under her eyes are so dark they're almost purple.

"He has an infection. His body might be able to fight it, but I don't know." 

"Is there anything you can do?" 

"Without medicine? Not really," you admit. "I can… make him as comfortable as possible with the rest of the painkillers. I can change the towels and give him food and water, but that's really it." I can let him die with some dignity, you think. It's better than the other situations you've been in where you thought he was gonna die. What would you tell Tommy? He was protecting you and Ellie. He fought to stay alive. He wanted you to move on. He'd be a hero. Tommy would make sure of it. The idea turns sour the second you think of it. You don't want a hero. You don't want his name sung to the skies or cemented in marble for generations to gawk at. You want him to stay alive.

"What are we gonna do? If, y'know…" Ellie trails off, and you look away from her.

"We keep going."

"But-"

"It's what he was trying to tell me to do when he got stabbed. He wouldn't want us to stay here, and you know it." You stop the argumentative tone in her voice before it can fully develop, and she huffs in annoyance. 

"So we're just gonna act like nothing happened if he dies? Like he wasn't even here?" You ignore her to mess with the blankets covering him and wait for her to try and open up negotiations so you can turn them down. "Do you love him?" She asks instead. You cringe, but she's firm and determined as she watches you process the question. 

"He's my partner," you say. "My family."

"That's not what I meant," she says.

"I don't know what you're looking for."

"What did Tess say to you when you were alone with her the last time?" She asks, and your heart jumps. She's out of line. She knows she is, but she keeps going. "Joel doesn't know, does he? Because it hurts, and when you love someone, you don't want to tell them things that will hurt them. Right?" You clench your jaw and shake your head. "I'm not fucking stupid. I see the way you guys look at each other. I hear what you guys talk about when you think I'm asleep. I know he's mostly grumpy, but not all the time. Not with you. I-"

"Ellie," you snap, cutting her off. "It doesn't matter what you see or what's there. I'm not… I can't." Words fail you as they often do when talking about Joel. "He's not mine to love. Not in that way. So, it doesn't matter what I feel, and it especially won't matter if he's dead." Ellie is silent as the words hang in the air between you two. You've thought the same thing many times over the years, but this is the first time you've vocalized it. He was always Tess's. In your mind, he still is. If either of them ever asked you to step down or leave, you would've done it without hesitation because he was never meant to be yours. 

"When I got bit the first time, I was with someone I loved," Ellie says. You look at her and catch her ripping at her nail beds to avoid your gaze. She takes a deep breath and shifts uncomfortably before she continues. "Her name was Riley. She joined the Fireflies, and they were gonna send her to a different QZ. Atlanta, I think. She wanted us to have one last night so we snuck out to the mall," she shakes her head and takes a deep breath. "We got into a fight about her leaving. I was just so scared to be alone, and then… she decided she was gonna stay for me. She hated the FEDRA school, and I was scared to be out in the QZ, but we were gonna figure something out together." She looks like she wants to say more but can't bring herself to. You're able to put the pieces together.

"Have you heard me tell Joel about someone named Adam?" You ask, and she nods shyly. It's weird bringing up Adam to her. They each feel like they belong to different lifetimes. "Adam was kinda like my Riley. He helped with Jane, went on runs with me, lived with me, everything," you say. "He was my best friend." 

"Did he get bit, too?" She asks, and you nod.

"I stayed with him until the end. I think I felt like I owed it to him— like I wanted him to know I loved him enough to bear the weight of watching him die," you dig your fingernails into your palm and shake your head. "I stayed with him until the end and then let him go on his own terms like he wanted. If it comes down to it, I'll do the same for Joel." 

"Are you scared of losing him?" She asks. You swallow thickly and nod.

"Every day." 

"Me, too," she admits. "I'm sorry about Adam." She says, and just like that, whatever barriers left between you two are gone. Suddenly, you're not the adult, and she's not the child. You're two girls forced to become women too young and carry the weight of what that means for the rest of time. You're equals.

"I'm sorry about Riley." You say. You think the conversation will end there, and you let yourself crawl under the covers with Joel as the sun slowly inches over the horizon. Before you can close your eyes, Ellie fiddles with the rifle nervously, making metal click, and you look at her.

"Does it ever get easier?" She asks. "Loving someone who's not alive anymore?" You stare at the ceiling, your eyes fluttering shut at the question, and your hand finds Joel's.

"I wish I knew," you say. "Does he know? About Riley?"

"No," she sighs. "He's not really one for sentimental conversations." You laugh despite the situation. It's delirious, and you really shouldn't be doing it, but you can't stop it. For more than ten years, you've known Joel, and never has a truer statement about him been said. The hysterics hit Ellie, too, and you two giggle on the floor together. When Joel shifts in his sleep, you both go quiet but start laughing again a few moments later when it's clear he's not stirring. 

"He's gonna fucking kill us if we wake him up." She says breathlessly, and, for some reason, you start laughing harder.

"He doesn't even know what day it is. You think he's gonna know how to kill us?" You snort, and that sends Ellie over the edge. Your stomach hurts, and you can't catch your breath, and it feels so good. When was the last time you laughed this hard? Over a card game and a few drinks with Joel and Tess? Dancing in the kitchen with Adam and Jane? Or further back? In some long-forgotten memory lost to your pre-kid days? It's impossible to know for sure. 

The only thing you feel sure of is the ache in your ribs and the smile on your face when you finally quiet down and lay down next to Joel, his hand squeezing yours either in reflex or love. 

You wake up to Ellie calling your name frantically, and you're up before she can even finish descending the stairs. The sun is high in the sky, and light is pouring in through a little window. It has to be, at least, mid-afternoon. When did she leave the house? How long have you been asleep? Is she hurt? 

"I got medicine!" She shouts as she runs to you. Her cheeks are red from the cold, and she's tracking snow into the basement, but she's not bleeding. It takes you another second to scan her features for any injuries before you can even process her words. "I got medicine. I don't know if it's the right kind, but I got it." She hands you the vials with shaky hands, and you glance between her and the bottles. The label says it's penicillin. It could fight the infection bubbling under the surface of his stitches. Kill the bacteria and save his life as long as he's not allergic to it. As long as it is what it says it is. 

"You were supposed to wake me up for second watch." You scold because you don't know what else to say.

"Is it the right kind? Will it help?" She asks. You take another second before cursing under your breath and going to Joel's bedside, shaking him awake.

"Joel, I need you to nod or shake your head for me. Can you do that?" You ask, and he nods. "Are you allergic to penicillin?" He shakes his head but looks confused. There's a 50/50 chance he didn't understand your question or know if he's allergic to it. You lift his shirt to check his stitches to find the skin more inflamed and angry than the last time you checked. He's gonna die if you don't do something soon. You sigh before turning back to Ellie. "Give me the syringe." 

She does with shaky hands, and you carefully measure and fill the entire syringe with the antibiotic. You don't know what the correct dosage is supposed to be, but you figure too much is better than not enough. You hold his shirt out of the way as you inject the medicine into his muscle, praying that it is medicine and not something mismarked. You watch him once the syringe is empty and wait for him to start foaming at the mouth or coughing up blood, but he doesn't. Carefully, you put the needle down and check his vitals, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

His heart rate and breathing are steady, and his pupils respond when you lift his eyelids. It'll take days for you to see any improvement, but just the knowledge that the antibiotics are working below the surface to save his life is enough to calm you down. The snow still in Ellie's hair does the opposite.

"Where did you go?" You ask, your voice hoarse from fear, and she tenses up.

"Hunting." She supplies a little too quickly, and you stare at her.

"How did you find medicine?" You ask, and you watch her scramble for answers. "Tell me the truth."

"There was this man from a town nearby-"

"Jesus fucking Christ." You cut her off and bury your head in your hands.

"I did everything you taught me! I didn't tell him my name, where I was coming from, or anything!"

"Did he see which way you left?" 

"I don't know. I don't think so. He seemed nice!" She defends.

"Yeah, they always seem nice." You sigh.

"How about 'thank you, Ellie'? 'I know it must've been scary, but you saved him.' Anything?"

"You could've gotten yourself killed. You could've led them here. We can't move him yet. So, what am I supposed to do if they show up here? Huh?" You snap. You hate being so harsh with her, but she needs to understand how dangerous that is. "Do you remember what Joel said about fires? Why we don't always light them?"

"Yes, but-"

"Why don't we light fires, Ellie?"

"I-"

"Ellie Williams." 

"Because people could see and rob us." She says, and you shake your head. 

"Trust me, robbing us would be the last thing on their minds," you clench your jaw and take a deep breath. "I appreciate you finding medicine and coming back, I do. You probably just saved his life, and I'm sure we'll both spend the rest of our lives trying to thank you for that, but it was also really fucking stupid. I trusted you to stay up and take a watch shift because you wanted to be treated like an adult. So, I'm gonna treat you like an adult now," you say. She opens her mouth to say something, but you put your hand up to stop her. "You're off the watch schedule, and you're not allowed to even look at the rifle unless it's an emergency or I can trust you again. You don't leave this house again without me knowing. You don't walk, talk, eat, sleep, or even breathe without me knowing. Do you understand?" 

"That's not fair!" She protests, and the last thread of patience you have snaps.

"I can't lose another kid!" The words leave you before you can reign them in, and you both go silent, staring at each other. This is all new. You've never had a kid who got to this age. She's never had a parent. Neither of you can fully fill the void for the other, but somehow, it feels like it's happened. "It will kill me, okay? Him," you gesture behind you at Joel. "It would hurt like hell, but I could find a way to survive. I've done it before, and I could do it again. But you... if anything ever happened to you, I would never forgive myself. So, just, please-" Ellie, throwing her arms around you, cuts you off, and you freeze. It only takes a second for your brain to catch up with your body, and you hug her back, squeezing her tight. 

She's taller than Jane, her head fitting perfectly under your chin, and you can't stop yourself from smoothing her hair down. She doesn't flinch or jump away from your touch. You take that as a good sign. It occurs to you that accidentally claiming her as yours was never in the plans. You were supposed to get her to the Fireflies in Boston with Joel and Tess, and when that didn't work out, she was cargo. Just a burden to deliver to someone else. You were supposed to leave her, get paid, and lick your wounds the whole way back to the East Coast. What now? You can't just leave her with them. You can't just turn your back on her. You can't pretend she didn't exist. You're fucked. You wonder if Joel's had the same thought.

"Okay," she says into your chest. "I won't leave again. I understand." 

"Thank you." You whisper, and she nods. You leave it at that, not wanting to incite another argument or worse— admitting something else you weren't ready to admit to a fourteen-year-old. She hands you the rifle without protest and lies down next to Joel, falling asleep faster than you've seen before, and you let your shoulders drop as you watch them. 

You can't recall a time Joel looked so relaxed in his sleep, and it could be the penicillin or the codeine, but you like to think it's Ellie. You have to believe it's her. If you survive this, you decide, you'll do everything possible to give her a better future. You can't guarantee tomorrow, but you want to try. 

"I love you," you say into the air. You know they can't hear you. That deafness might be the only reason you say it. "I think you know I do. I just… wanted to say it out loud at least once. I'm sorry it took me so long." You're quiet after that admission, listening for footsteps, hooves, or something else that might come and threaten their lives. If you listen hard enough, you think you can hear the snow hitting the ground, rabbits digging underground tunnels, and Adam's clumsy feet jumping up and down.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 (I made an executive decision on tagging lol if you only want to be tagged in one thing, lmk and I’ll do my best to remember!)

[nahoney22]

Heyyy, I just wanted to say I love your writing. I know you have a lot of requests right now so please make sure to make time for yourself and take breaks!!

I'm going through a really hard time right now. And your works have been comforting me a lot. I don't want to overshare too much but I am very overwhelmed with the events going on in my life. My boyfriend asked me last night if I was okay and I just broke down.

I was wondering if you could write headcaonons about how the bad batch would react and comfort the reader in a similar situation? Like maybe they notice the reader has been closed off or just not themselves and when they check on them the reader breaks down?

If you're not comfortable writing this then no worries, I understand. Thank you 💕

Comforting Soulmates

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

The boys comfort you when you’re at your lowest.

Warnings: angst and emotional reader with hints of insecurity and fears for the future but fixed with some fluff and comfort. Established relationships.

authors note: so sorry for the delay anon. I sincerely hope you’re having better days now. 💜

Dividers by @saradika and @itbmojojoejo - super cute and I fancied a change.

Echo

When Echo asked you what was bothering you, having noticed your distant gazes and lack of interest in things. What he didn’t expect however was the tsunami of tears to pour down your cheeks at his question. Reacting quickly, he sat beside you and gently placed his hand on your back as you buried your face in your hands, struggling to catch your breath.

“Cyare, what is it?” He murmured, offering comfort by rubbing soothing circles on your back. It takes you a while but eventually, you begin to tell him that everything was too much, everything was moving too quickly and you just want it all to stop.

He patiently listened, refraining from interrupting, as you poured out your frustrations. Only the sound of your soft sniffles reverberated within the confines of the ship as you finally ceased your tears.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, I wish I had asked you sooner.” He sighed, guilt biting away at him but this was about you now, and he wanted to give you the best advice he could.

“I know things are tough, especially after everything we’ve been through… but better days are definitely coming. It might not be today, or tomorrow but it is coming.”

You smile softly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand and lean into him. “Thank you, Echo.”

“It’s okay, I’m always, always here.”

Wrecker

Wrecker barely had a chance to even ask about what was upsetting you. The moment he stepped onto the ship's plank, your arms enveloped him, seeking solace in his embrace big arms and warm body. As he felt his shirt grow damp against his chest, he realised you were crying and his heart sunk. "Baby? What's wrong?"

Without hesitation, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you away from prying eyes to find a private space. Seated on his bunk, he cradled you in his lap, providing a secure haven for you to find comfort.

"Just... everything," you whimpered, your emotions erupting and overwhelming you.

“Like…?" he asked softly with a small prompt, caressing your thigh and tenderly wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Ya can tell me."

As you poured out your thoughts, he listened patiently, allowing you to express yourself fully. Despite not always being the most patient person himself, he always showed an unwavering amount of patience for you.

"I did notice that you haven't been yourself in the past few days. I wanted to do something special to cheer you up!" he exclaimed, a bright grin spreading across his face, infectious enough to bring a smile to your own.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! I want to take ya out for a meal and just explore and have fun together! There's no one else I'd rather be with. You mean everything to me. Never forget that."

He planted a gentle kiss on your temple, letting his words sink into your consciousness.

Hunter

Hunter's senses alerted him to the irregularity of your breathing from across the ship. Concerned that you might have injured yourself, he hurried towards you, only to halt at the foot of the bunk you both shared. His gaze fell upon your trembling shoulders as tears soaked the pillow beneath you.

"Hey, shh, come here," he beckoned, settling beside you and gently rolling you over to face him, his eyes locked with yours. "What's the reason for these tears?"

He had sensed a mounting emotional turmoil within you for some time, yet he lacked the courage to inquire about it, fearing that you might not be ready to share. Mentally berating himself, he regretted not asking sooner, as witnessing you in tears tugged at his heartstrings.

"I don't feel good enough," you confessed, your words causing his eyebrows to furrow and sadness to fill his eyes.

"Who made you feel that way?"

“Nobody, it's just... I just don't feel good enough," you sighed, sniffling as his hand cradled your face while the other lovingly ran through your hair.

"I'm sorry that you're experiencing this, but as I've said before, you are more than enough. Who you are is perfect in every single way, and even the imperfections you perceive only enhance your perfection. Please don't cry. I'm here for you."

Tech

Tech sensed that something was amiss, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it. As usual, you were seated together in the cockpit, but this time, you remained unresponsive to his ramblings. No smiles, no interjections—just silence.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired, setting aside the tools he had been holding. You looked at him and shook your head, but the glimmer in your eyes and the quiver of your lower lip betrayed your true feelings.

Suddenly, you burst into sobs, hastily covering your mouth to stifle the sound. Tech, bewildered, took a seat beside you. "That wasn't the reaction I expected," he remarked aloud, but he carefully spun your chair to face him. "Now, please tell me what's troubling you, my dear."

A part of him anticipated silence, but instead, you launched into a passionate rant about life's unfairness, its cruelty, and your overwhelming fear for the future and the war. Tears streamed down your face, and Tech leaned forward gently, using his hand to dab them away.

"I understand your concerns," he began, his voice calm and reassuring. "But as long as you're with me, there's nothing to be afraid of. I will protect you from any harm that may come your way. As for the war, it's something we have no control over. I know it might not be what you want to hear, but we must adapt to the life ahead, together."

Rising to his feet, Tech took your hands in his and helped you stand. Cupping your cheek with both hands, he used his thumbs to wipe away the remaining tears. He leaned in, pressing a gentle series of kisses on your forehead, nose, and finally, your lips. "One day at a time, my darling... Let's do something about these tears."

Crosshair

Crosshair observed you pacing back and forth, clearly consumed by your own emotions. He remained silent, choosing to watch and analyse your emotions, waiting for the moment you'd make eye contact. When your gazes finally met, words were unnecessary.

The unspoken question in his eyes caused you to break down in tears, making you to turn away, feeling ashamed and silly over your tears in front of him. But, he was your boyfriend. And seeing you cry upset him.

Slowly, he stands tall, taking a step forward and approached you. He heard your sniffles and mumbled apologies as you heard him coming but you stop speaking as he placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

Without uttering a single word, he drew you close to him. Words were never his strong suit, so he decided to rely on the power of his embrace to provide solace.

As your sobs gradually subsided, you leaned against his chest, finding comfort in his presence. You felt a sense of calm as he rested his chin atop your head and whispered softly,

"It's going to be okay. I love you. I have you."

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka a @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @crystal076 @blustalker @the-good-shittt @s1st3r @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness

[zoeykallus]

Hey there! I was wondering if you could write about a female reader, traveling with the batch. She suffers from anxiety and depression, coming in phases. There are good and bad days, but she manages to keep it to herself, until she has a really terrible one. And she has feelings for Tech and the other way around, but they haven't addressed it yet, and he is the one realizing something is off with her, trying to comfort her. Some Angst/Fluff stuff... Please? ❤

Hm, this one hits home. Ouch. Sure I can, I actually love the opportunity to comfort myself while writing, especially with Tech 😋😅

Let me see what I can do for us you 😊

Tech x Fem!Reader - The Lowest Low

Warnings: Angst/Mention Of Anxiety/Mention And Description Of Depression Symptoms/Panic Attack/Comfort/Fluff/Soft, Shy, Gentle Tech

____________

Until now, you have always been able to hide it, but suddenly the deepest low in a long time hits you, and you can't hide it anymore. Tech tries to understand what's going on with you.

_____________

So far you have always been able to prevent it, to hide it, even from Hunter. You always withdrew in time when the bad episodes came, you have learned to act by now, to pretend that everything is wonderful, while inside you feel panic, fear, and a deep inexplicable, lonely sadness.

But this one episode is particularly horrible. You blew the last job, a panic attack overtook you, threw you off track, and forced you to retreat. Much to the surprise of the guys, who looked after you in complete bewilderment as you simply cleared the field. This time, none of your breathing exercises or mental retreats helped.

Your back is tense, your muscles tight as if expecting to take a punch at any moment. Your fingers stiffen, a feeling of pressure on your chest, one uncomfortable goose bump after another chases across your body.

A lump forms in your throat and a slaying wave of sadness washes over you. This helpless feeling is awful, you feel guilty of just ditching the guys, on such a simple mission. Nothing special happened, not that you can remember, no specific trigger.

You feel burning pressure behind the bridge of your nose and eyes, tears held back. Your cramped fingers cling to the collar of your shirt as if expecting to be strangled by the fabric at any moment.

The air you breathe is like lead, heavy on your body and hard to get into your lungs. You feel dizzy. An all-encompassing fear has you in its grip, the feeling of being helplessly exposed to everything around you is overpowering. You want to scream, but it seems there isn't even enough air to breath.

You are trembling, your breathing is irregular and heavy. You have retreated to a quiet corner, somewhere behind the landing pad of the Marauder. You are so preoccupied with your condition that you don't hear someone approaching.

Startled, you look up, your heart almost stopping as you hear Tech say your name.

He's standing there, for the first time in a long time not holding the datapad, his helmet tucked under his right arm.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you not feeling well? You're pale and look tense, almost panicked."

You feel a single tear run down your face, then a second, but your expression is strangely blank, you feel it yourself.

Tech is looking at you, obviously trying to understand what's going on with you, to make sense of your behavior.

You never wanted anyone to see you like this, especially not Tech. But you sense that the cat is out of the bag, and any white lie would only make him feel like you don't trust him.

"No, Tech," you say softly, "I'm not feeling well."

He blinks, standing there indecisively for a moment. He glances over his shoulder as if to make sure the two of you are really alone. Finally, he looks at you again and asks, "May I come closer?"

You manage to smile at him and nod.

"Of course, I always like having you near me".

A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth, then he moves closer and sits next to you with some courtesy distance, his long legs bent. Tech sets his helmet down on the ground beside him and looks at you.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

You sigh softly and say, "I don't see how. That's something I don't want to burden you with."

He frowns thoughtfully and says, "It's not a burden. All I see is a person I care about suffering, and I want to counteract that. You said you like having me around, the feeling is mutual. Maybe I can help you in some way with my presence?"

You smile, feeling touched by how cautiously Tech approaches the matter, although he usually wants to go straight to the point.

You swallow nervously, smile cautiously, and ask him, "Would you mind holding my hand?"

Tech blinks in surprise, he seems a little shy, but he moves a little closer and gently grips your hand with his, closing your fingers with gentle pressure.

He thinks for a while, then says thoughtfully, "You need contact, with something or someone that will give you security, peace, safety, an anchor that will ground you, so you can get out of this slump you seem to be in."

You nod and breathe a sigh of relief, the pressure on your chest slowly easing. You block out the irrationally felt fear, feeling less exposed.

"That's why I asked you to hold my hand," you say softly.

Tech tightens his shoulders, sits up a little straighter and smiles, a very gentle, shy, but sincere smile.

"I'm honored," he says, squeezing your hand a tiny bit tighter to emphasize his presence at your side.

You slowly take a few deeper breaths, a few more tears running down your cheeks.

"Isn't it getting better?" he asks, concerned.

Your smile widens a bit, though tears are still streaming down your face.

"Oh yes it is, that's the relief, Tech. That… Tension I've been feeling has been exceedingly intense, all consuming. When it subsides, it's so relieving that I cry sometimes."

He blinks, thinking about what you said, trying to understand.

"It must be scary to feel that intensely," he says thoughtfully.

You nod in agreement.

"Yes, very much so. But there are sometimes very special bright spots that I would never want to miss"

Surprised, he looks at you.

"Such as?"

You feel warmth rise in your tear-stained cheeks as you say, "What I feel for you is intense, too. The joy of your presence or your attention. The peace and security you radiate to me. The incredible affection I feel when I see you smile."

Tech blinks several times in a row, as if he needs to reload his system. His ears turn red, and he looks shyly away to the side.

"Oh," he says softly.

You swallow, afraid you might scare him off, but he's still gently holding your hand, making no move to let you go.

You clear your throat carefully, wanting to say something else, but not daring to. After a while of quiet, Tech breaks the silence that has developed.

"You like me," he says softly, almost in a whisper, like a statement he can't quite grasp yet.

"Yes, indeed."

His eyes dart briefly in your direction with a quick smirk, then he glances shyly at his shoes again.

"Do you like me, too?" you ask softly.

His ears seem to get even redder.

"You could certainly put it that way, yes," he says with a nervous clearing of his throat.

His comm beeps and Hunter's voice is heard, "How's it looking? Is our girl okay?"

Tech glances at you briefly before answering, "She's doing better, but it's recommended to give her some more quiet time."

Hunter says understandingly, "Okay, take your time".

You realize that Hunter, of all of them, probably noticed the most when your low overtook you.

Tech barely noticeably moves a little closer, his thumb stroking your hand that he is still holding.

"Would you do me a favor?" he asks seriously.

"Of course."

He looks directly at you and says, "If you feel like this again, give me a sign, come to me. If it helps you, I always like to hold your hand. Maybe, long hugs will help too?"

Your heart really jumps out to him as you see the gentle expression on his face.

"I'd love to, Tech."

After a brief pause, he asks, "How are you feeling now?"

"Much better."

He raises his brows and asks, "Are you sure? Maybe we should try a hug just to test if it works"

You smile, having to suppress a grin.

"Now that you mention it, maybe we really should."

He moves closer, letting go of your hand. A bit over-cautious and awkward, he puts first one then the other arm around you. But as you lean against him, his embrace naturally adjusts to your posture.

"That's good," he says, "I mean, that should certainly help."

You grin contentedly to yourself, all at once very happy, at least for the moment.

"That's really very good, Tech"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

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