#and i thought ‘why not add hunter too?’

[ferretwhomst]

thinking so hard abt how belos and odalia played similar roles in hunter and amity's lives

they're pathetic excuses for parental figures, bringing up children and expecting them to live up to their own personal "blueprints" for them, stripping them of their autonomy in different ways.

in hunter's case, he's forced to be belos' idealized version of caleb without even knowing it. the golden guard's uniform has stayed mostly the same through time, which shows us that belos doesn't see them as individuals who deserve to be recognized as such, moreso as expendable objects. this one betrayed me? this one failed the task i assigned? no problem! i'll just kill them and make a new one. plus, hunter unknowingly faces additional pressure due to the fact that he looks more like caleb than the other grimwalkers.

in amity's case, odalia is obviously trying to turn her into a mini-version of herself. she takes away mostly everything that makes amity similar to her dad- she forces her to dye her hair the same mint green color, she puts more pressure on amity to perform well than the twins (which leads her to grow resentful towards them, which in turn allows for odalia to control them more easily. divide and rule and all that) and don't even get me started on how deeply invasive that whole amulet business was.

then there's shots like THIS featuring the Shoulder Touch of Manipulation TM

which just... parallel each other so eerily. i can't stop thinking abt it. both belos and odalia are behaving as if they're acting in hunter and amity's best interests when really they're only using them for their own selfish motives (the whole "i can't let the same happen to you" thing from belos as if he isn't willing to murder hunter the second he begins to deviate from his will, and odalia cutting amity off from all positive outside influences- ie anyone who could empower her, anyone who could make amity believe that she deserves better than how her parents treat her- under the pretence of "protecting" her). i'm eating drywall right now.

[sim0nril3y]

Meet the Family

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon has the joy of meeting your family and finding out why don't you see or talk about them all that much. This brings up some unwanted memories and feelings for him too. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), family drama, shouting, very small mention of Simon's childhood, family disapproval, family arguing, reader has family, reader has siblings, family names are established but no descriptions, canon-typical swearing.

It appeared that your phone was making more of a ruckus than usual later. It seemed to buzz and beep much more frequently, each time your eyes cast down to check it they narrowed, then rolled before you pushed the device far, far away from where you had to interact with it. Yet still it actively vied for your attention. “Everything okay, babe?” Simon quizzed, pulling the cork out of the wine he’d chosen and beginning to pour you a glass. “Fine.” You short answer replied, picking up the glass and taking a large gulp.

Taking a seat opposite Simon battled internally about whether to push this conversation anymore. He wondered, if the situation was reversed if you would have tried to get more information out of him. Bloody hell. You would. “I just couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… upset by your phone.” Nodding his head in the direction of the device. “Is something up?”

For a moment you paused, mauling over the situation for a moment before letting out a low huff and answering. “My sister is having a ‘get-together’ for her anniversary…” You announced with a heavy amount of disdain in your voice. “We’ve been invited.” Of course, you’d mentioned your family before but until this point Simon had never met them and the opportunity had never been there. “Honestly, I’m surprised I’m invited Anna said it’ll just be close family…”

“Well, I guess you count as close family considering you’re her sister, love.” Simon pointed out and you let out a low huff again. “Who else is going to be there?” “My mum and dad. My little brother Peter. Obviously, my older sister Anna, her husband Barney and their son Hunter.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that. It would be a lot of your family to meet at once. “And do you… want to go?”

Again, you didn’t have a response right away, eyes darting away before back towards him. “I… I don’t know…” Then shaking your head. “Anna is begging me to come, but I know that is only to get the heat off her because if I’m there then all my parent’s attention will fall to me and they will explain exactly where I’ve gone wrong with my life.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that comment, he didn’t like the thought of your family speaking poorly of you. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “Would… you want to go?” The question came out tiny and vulnerable, like you might scare him off with that alone.

“They know about me?” Simon quizzed, he’d never met them and he’d never really pressed to do that, he was in love with you and that was all he needed in his life. “They do…” You replied evenly. “They don’t approve... It isn’t because of you.” You quickly add with wide eyes. “They don’t approve of anyone outside of the family. They hated any girl that Peter brought home and they tolerate Barney, but that is only because they gave them a grandchild to fawn over.” You explained before frowning. “Si, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come…”

For a moment he mauled over his options, he could go and accept whatever snide comments and berating came from your family, or he could send you to the wolves and stay home like a coward. Simon Riley was not a coward. “Tell her we’ll be there.” He leaned over to clink his glass against her own.

It was a bit of a drive to Anna’s home she shared with her husband and their son, but that gave you plenty of time to fill in all the dirty details about your family. You had started with your older sister, she was seen as the golden child and your parents bragged about almost everything that she did, her perfect marriage, her perfect children, her perfect house and her perfect holiday home. You explained, Anna had gone to a top University to study finance, but during her gap year galivanting about the US she’d met Barney who’d promptly fallen in love with her and got her pregnant. This wouldn’t typically be too big of a problem, apart from the fact that Anna been engaged before setting off and in a desperate need to escape the monotony of her relationship and her perfect life she’d thrown it all away from another lad.

It was a blow to her parents that their perfect eldest daughter had this mishap, however the fact that Barney came from an incredibly wealthy family and owned his own tech company certainly helped ease him into the family. Then their grandson Hunter came into the picture and everything was a perfect ending from there.

On the other hand, there was your younger brother Peter who had barely scraped by in his school and your parents had to persuade Universities to accept him. He spent more times in clubs than in his classes. Your parents saw him as a typical boy, causing some trouble and chasing the ladies. Boys will be boys; they’d excused with a hearty laugh as Peter would be trotted to the cells for indecent exposer or public indecency. Still even after all the trouble he’d caused Peter was still the apple of their eyes, your mother fawned over him and your father tried moulding him into his protégé.

Then there was you. With a sister that was perfect and a brother that they dotted on that left very little time or energy for you. It seemed like you just slipped through the cracks. Even when they did have time spare for you every decision, you’d made they hadn’t approved. In their eyes, you were simply the wild little fuck-up. It pained and riled Simon that anyone thought of you as anything but perfect and good and kind.

Once they arrived at your sisters’ home Simon was surprised to find that it was an expensive looking townhouse that had been renovated to have some modern features. This strangle matched the dreamhouse that you’d muttered to him one night in your post-sex chatter, it made Simon wonder who had desired the house first, maybe it was you and Anna had simply stolen that dream to taunt you. Approached the modern frosted glass door, it opened and out stepped an older woman with a disguised smile on her face, dressed in a smart, conservative dress with sharp kitten heels. Your hand squeezed his own as you approached, announcing nicely. “Mum…” Ah, your mother, Cynthia…

“Hello darling.” Her voice was soft but hiding something, like a sickly sweet venom that was encasing you both. You had mentioned that she was high strung and highly critical, that remained to be seen. If there was one thing that Cynthia enjoyed in life it was gossiping, followed by bragging about her family, or at least some of her family members, certainly not you, you’d joked to Simon but there was a pained reality to that snide remark. “Look at you, that is certainly an interesting dress…” She observed, cupping your face then. “You look very tired, are you sleeping well?” The snide remarks had already begun, Simon observed.

You complained lowly. “Mum…” Then looked towards Simon, eyes pleading for some form of help or safety or escape but only found his own dark set that matched your own fear. “This is-” Cynthia cut you off and turned her viper grin towards at him, those dangerous eyes scanned him and searched for any little weakness or vulnerability. “This must be Simon.” Cynthia let out an almost cynical laugh. “Now, I must ask your sister to set another place, we weren’t sure that you were real…” It was another little dig that made you wince.

Cynthia then allowed the two of you to follow her further into the house, a lounge area stood before them and three men lingered inside of it. An older man sat on the sofa, drink in hand and head drooping, another around Simon’s age stood behind a small make-shift bar, cleaning glasses and straightening bottles of the labels faced out and proud and then across the room a younger man was texting on his phone. “Simon, make yourself comfortable with the men. That is my husband, Harold. This is my son-in-law, Barney.” Cynthia even gifted him a snide smile, the same she had done to Simon, they were outsiders after all, not as important as blood, simply there to give her grandchildren. “And that is my son Peter~”

Turning to you and lowering her voice, Cynthia said. “Darling, don’t worry that you didn’t bring a present, your sister understands that you don’t make a lot of money-” “N-no, I just left it at home.” You attempted to explain but your mother just chortled lowly and squeezed your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure… just like how Peter ate all your Christmas chocolate when you were 10, hmm?” Then she poked your tummy in jest. “But I think we all know where it went.”

Simon forced himself to grit his teeth, looking between and watching you purse your lips, accepting the vicious attack with a tight smile and glossy eyes. “Now, don’t make that face~” Cynthia smirked directly at you, as if knowing she was pushing your buttons. “Come, your sister will want some help in the kitchen, I’m sure you’ll survive being apart from your boyfriend for five minutes, hmm?” Then looking towards Simon and asking. “You won’t mind if I borrow her, will you?”

More than anything he wanted to deny her, snatch you up into his side and away from anymore of her cruel remarks, but her claw-like hands were already circling you and tugging you from the room before he had a chance. The next moment, a presence walked up behind him and Simon turned to see a very happy looking man stood there. “Hey man…” A thick American accent rolled from him. “My name is Barney, you must be Simon, right?” He was quick to shake his hand and comment. “Quite the grip there, you play golf?”

Shaking his head Simon followed him back to where he’d been lingering (or probably hiding) behind his bar. “Do you drink, man? What’s your poison?” Barney asked enthusiastically, very proudly gesturing to the array of bottles that were placed behind the bar, squeaky clean but hardly used. “Whiskey. Neat.” Then leaning against the bar and waiting for it to be made. Another approached, this time your brother, tucking his phone away into his pocket as he sidled up beside him, elbows resting on the bar too, matching him stance for stance. “Simon, right? The latest addition to our fucked up little family.” Peter commented, his tone just as snide as his mother’s – the apple didn’t fall far, he supposed. “I’m sure my sister told you all about me…”

“She mentioned a few things…” Simon answered evenly, reaching out to take the offered drink from Barney, drinking it down a little too quickly to appear casual. Bloody hell, he’d been on battlefields and felt less anxious. “Well, I’ve got a few stories about my sister that I’m sure you’ll want to hear too~” The young lad began before Simon glanced in his direction, testing and bothered by his presence.

Sensing the impending tension Barney let out a hearty chuckle and said. “Maybe another time, huh?” Then giving Peter a pointed look. “Simon… what do you do for a job?” He asked in a friendly enough way, this seemed to catch the attention of Harold who actually glanced in his direction, quietly accessing and judging, it felt like you were the only normal one to actually come out of this family. “I’m in the special forces.” Simon explained, keeping his answers short and sweet, not allowing too many details to slip out, it wouldn’t be professional. They all had different reactions to this little piece of information. Peter quirked a brow whilst Barney grinned and nodded. “That’s tight. Respect, man.”

“A solider…” Peter muttered. “Lieutenant, actually.” Simon corrected in a sharp tone. There wasn’t many things in life he was proud about but you and his career were among the only few.

Again, your brother seemed to stir from beside him. “So…” Looking at him, wanting to judge Simon’s reaction. “How many people you killed?” The question was so crass that it actually made Barney gasp before letting out a nervous laugh and saying. “Pete, I’m not sure you can ask questions like that, man…” Then another laugh before giving his brother-in-law a soft punch on the shoulder, followed by a pointed look, don’t push.

There was this clear power struggle that Peter was trying to win. This happened often with rich boys like your brother, they saw Simon as a threat because he was physically much more impending than them, feeling even worse when they discovered that Simon wasn’t as dumb as they thought he looked.

“Not something that I keep count of…” Simon answered keeping his face straight, remaining unbothered. It was a good answer, it was formal and dignified, not to mention filled with some honesty. It wasn’t like Simon could even keep count anymore, even if he had wanted to. Peter seemed unimpressed with that answer and simply huffed before saying. “Bet you could think of at least five different ways to kill me in here, right?” Again, this spiked the interest of Harold, glancing in their direction.

Another challenge. Another prod. Another opportunity to attempt to make Simon look unhinged. Attempting to break the tension Barney laughed awkwardly. “This joker-” “I could think at least ten.” Simon retorted, dark eyes watching Peter to see that smugness falter for just a moment as true fear sank in. From across the room for just a split second Harold smirked then it washed away as he finished his fifth drink of the night.

The room was thick with an air of tension as you stepped inside looking completely flustered. “It’s uh… it’s time for dinner.” You informed them, frowning as you tried to access the atmosphere, approaching Simon to rest a delicate hand on his forearm, wrapping yourself around the limb. The room cleared out as Barney escorted his in-laws to his dinning room. Gazing up at Simon, you asked. “You alright?”

Simon’s eyes seemed to focus on where Peter had been escorted from the room, watching that area on alert for a few moments before his gaze flittered back in your direction. “Told your brother I could think of ten ways to kill him in this room alone…”

You blinked. Slow and calculating. Attempting to understand the words that Simon had just rushed in your direction. “Excuse me?” You muttered, staring up into his eyes in confusion. “Why… why would you say-” “He was pushing me.” There was an edge of frustration to his tone. You brother had gotten under Simon’s skin a lot more than he was willing to admit aloud. Reaching up you cupped his face and looked into his eyes with such care and sincerity, it really did pain you to witness your family treating him in a way that left him so anxious and wound up. “I believe you.” You whispered. “I believe you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My fucking family… It’s my family, they make it their mission to push and prod and make your life misery. I’m sorry-”

A short huff came from Simon, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently and replying. “You don’t ever apologies for any of them.” He told you, voice firm and sure. There was no part of this that was your fault. You were born into a family of cynical fakers, wanting to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as their own. He hadn’t even been around them for an hour yet, but Simon could see that you were the only good thing to come from your family. He could force himself to survive the rest of the dinner party for you… but when this was over, he never wanted to see these people again.

“Come on, now…” Your mothers voice entered the lounge and she lingered in the doorway, big fake smile on her lips and glass of wine in hand. “You were late to the party and now you’ll be late for dinner too…” Cynthia chortled, clearly still holding that grudge. “I swear, my darling girl would be late to her own funeral too…” The comment was made as she swayed down the hallway towards the dining room, Simon simply grit his teeth and continued to bite his tongue. A few more hours, he reminded himself constantly.

The dinner that was severed was nice enough. Honestly, the only cooking that you actually enjoyed nowadays was anything that Simon served up for you and it was something he was more than happy to take care of for you. It was mundane and simple and peaceful, just for some time he could force his noisy brain to shut off, it simply wasn’t warfare.

You sat beside him, food pushing around your plate, probably each little biting comment from your mother stripped away any hunger from you. Cynthia had persuaded your siblings to list all their recent achievements to you, which they seemed all too happy to do. Maybe they knew that if all that vitriol that poured from your mother was aimed at you, then they’d continue to escape it… or maybe they enjoyed it because they were just as cruel as she was.

“Are you enjoying the food?” Cynthia quirked a soft brow at Simon, it was a strange observation but Simon noted that your mother wore a face so similar to your own, maybe more than the rest of your siblings but not even one of your expressions matched. There was so much pure and true joy and easiness in your smile, but each time your mother did the same it seemed like it might crack her face into tiny pieces. “I’m sure you aren’t used to a good homecooked meal, hmm?” Then laughing lowly. “Especially with this one’s cooking…” Pointing a fork in your direction.

“It’s fine.” Simon responded evenly, clearly not to exaggerated praise that your mother had been expecting, simply narrowing her eyes and taking back another gulp of wine. “I like to cook for us…” His hand then rests on your knee beneath the table, reminding you that you weren’t alone facing your horrid family, but that Simon had your back. “Between the two of us, I have more time to cook, anyway.” Then he shrugged, gazing in your direction and seeing your desperation to find safety and warmth within him. “With all the hours that she works and then the time she spends on her art, I like to keep her fed…” Too afraid to continue aloud, Simon thought, keep her warm, provided for her, keep her happy, keep her satisfied. Just… keep her.

A deep scoff came from Cynthia then, another big glug of wine until her glass was empty. It seemed that Simon had given Peter the opportunity to speak then, smirking from across the table. “Speaking of work…” Those dangerous eyes loomed as you sat a little straighter in your chair. “Heard from a friend that you missed that interview dad set up…” The comment was thrown out there so casually but you were left reeling as you knew the chaos that simple comment would cause. Besides, how did he even know that? There wasn’t a chance in the world that Peter had friends to be able to tell him that information, so what? Was he following you? Keeping tabs on you? Before you even had the chance to interrogate him Cynthia spoke first.

“No, no…” Placing down the wine bottle onto the table with a heavy thud, eyes fixed on you. “Please tell me that isn’t true.” Raising her brows, as if waiting for you to deny Peter’s allegations but you remained sheepishly quiet. “You lied to me.” There was a fiery rage in her eyes now and you knew that you were in for it. “You told me that you went. I can’t believe you would lie to your own mother…” Your mouth opened then, as if to defend yourself but Cynthia was much too quick to continue her tirade. “We have spoken about this again and again… I made it clear it is time to give up on this silly little fantasy that you’ve been holding onto. It is time to grow up and join the real world. You need to be more like your brother and your sister…” Gesturing wildly to them as Anna sat almost ashamed with her gaze down to her lap and Peter sat there with a smarmy smile the instigator of this.

Again, you opened your mouth, but her hand came up sharp in your direction. “Do you know the strings your father had to pull to organise that interview?” Then gesturing towards Harold who seemed completely unphased, cutting his steak into another bitesize piece whilst his wife continued to berate their daughter before the audience. “You are such an ungrateful brat and you always have been. When will you understand? You have absolutely zero desirable qualities so finding a decent job will be very difficult for you… who in their right mind is going to want to hire someone like you, hmm?”

Everyone apart from Cynthia and Peter appeared mortified, Anna looked to you with horror on her face and then Barney spoke, careful smile on his face. “She still had plenty of time to figure out what she wants to do, right? Anna took a gap year during college… Pete did the same… So, she isn’t going abroad or whatever, instead she’s trying to… to… figure out if she can follow her passion, I think it’s-” “Be quiet.” Cynthia growled at him then, teeth grit. “Don’t talk such nonsense… Peter and Anna were working hard at college and needed a break to find themselves and after returned to college and get their degrees. What does she have? Nothing. I couldn’t even convince her to apply to any colleges… She is a lazy, stubborn, silly little girl and you are chasing a hopeless dream-” “Enough.”

Every set of eyes then turned to look at Simon who sat with a furious look present on his face. At the beginning of the evening, he could maybe accept those biting little comments, he could certainly accept the way that Peter had provoked him, Simon could even accept the way that your mother had sat there bragging about your siblings but he wasn’t going to allow her to utterly humiliate you like this. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her that way.” Carefully from beside him, you muttered his name, a soft plead to try and calm the fight that seemed inevitable now. “No.” He told you firmly, quietly, gazing down at you with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. “I won’t just sit there and let her fuckin’ talk to you like this… I wont… I can’t…”

It wasn’t like Simon had grown up in a good household. It was clearly different from your own. Simon had witnessed his father completely decimate any good in his family and he was too young and too small and too scared to stop him or do anything. This is why he is the man he is today; he wouldn’t allow that again and seeing your family ripping you to shreds, tearing apart any good and hope and light inside of you was too much for him. Not you. Never you.

“Simon, please. You simply don’t understand...” Cynthia began. “My daughter lives in this word of make believe where she thinks she is going to become and artists and be able to make money and buy big houses like her sister. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve tried getting through to her, but-” “Your daughter is a fuckin’ adult.” Simon growled then, leaning into the table slightly so he could talk across at her. “She doesn’t need you to find her a job and she doesn’t need you to approve the choices that she makes in her life.” Simon growled, feeling this need to protect you and keep you safe, that very same one that had grown for his mother in his childhood. Different, but… the same. “Your daughter… your daughter is fuckin’ amazing. There isn’t a thing about her that needs to change. She’s intelligent and she’s soft and kind and she’s really fuckin’ talented and I wonder how all of that managed to happen when she grew up around you cunts-” The entire table seemed to gasp in unison.

There seemed to be this stunned silence before everyone erupted, Peter almost fell off his chair laughing, whilst baby Hunter wailed from the commotion. Cynthia stood stark upright, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Unacceptable! Disgusting! Unacceptable! He’s an animal! He’s feral!” Stalk through the house on a tirade of insults aimed in his direction with her husband trailing behind her. Anna was trying to hopelessly clean a puddle of wine from where it had teetered over onto the table. “It’s fucking vintage!” There were real tears in her eyes, much to Simon’s surprise.

Just then Barney stood up, bouncing his son in his arms and looking between you and Simon. “I think… I think it would be best if you guys left.” There was sorrow in his eyes as he suggested it, not wanting to be unkind but just not wanting anymore drama. It was probably for the best even if Simon did have a few more choice words for them.

The entire car ride home you were unusually quiet beside him. He was actually a little lost on how to handle this situation. There weren’t a part of him that was sorry for what he’d said to your family, or more specifically your mother. Simon just couldn’t handle the fact that she could talk to you in such a vile way. There was only so much that Simon was willing to take and he’d lost it. Fuck, had he scared you? Were you mad at him? Were you sad for causing a rift in your family? Had he even caused a rift? Clearly, they hadn’t thought very much of you before he’d been there…

A small sniffle from beside him caught his attention, glancing in your direction and under the glow of the streetlamps Simon saw your face wet with tears. Without hesitation Simon signalled and pulled his truck onto an empty road, clambering from the driver’s seat and around to yank open your door. A moment later his arms were around you, hand supporting the back of your head burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. “You’re alright. Shh. You’re alright, babe.”

After a few moments of allowing, you to just sob into his shoulder, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Don’t ca-care what they s-say about me-” “Well, I do.” There was a thick edge to his voice, pulling back to cup your face and looking for any sign of fight towards your family but you seemed defeated, you seemed emotionally drained. Where was that witty girl that had corned him on a night out? Where was the one that had to almost twist his arm to open up? Where was that fight for her own pretty self? “I care about what they say about you because they are dead fuckin’ wrong, babe. No one deserved to be talked to like that. I won’t allow it.”

There was something deeper simmering here behind all this. There was something that Simon didn’t want to confess or discuss. The berating. The belittling. The treatment of less than… This was something that Simon wouldn’t allow for you because he had experienced it and much worse. “You don’t deserve it.” It was like Simon was talking to all the people in his life that hadn’t deserved the fate they were given. You. Him. His mum. His brother. His friends he’d lost. The soldiers that had died in his arms. “Okay?” “Okay.”

Masterlist | Ask | 04-02-2024

[spirit-lanterns]

MILLION DOLLAR GIRL

synopsis: kafka wants to add you to her bounty.

featuring: kafka

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, strap on, pet names, sort of enemies to lovers, doggy style, hair pulling, catching feelings, mentions of one night stands, slight degradation, mockery, gro.ping, pretty wholesome even for a smut, not proofread.

art credits: what does the fox say

“For someone so whiny, you sure quiet down once I put some inches in you, hm?”

Kafka chuckles darkly at the sight of you all sprawled out on your bed, pounding away at your cunt with the dark purple strap on tied to her hips. You and Kafka had a complicated relationship, as your father wanted her dead, but you wanted her in your bed. Spewing a love-hate relationship between you two, as you couldn’t help but fall for the Stellaron Hunter’s charms, only to end up bent over your bed with her cock slamming into you.

“You came at the worst— nnngh…time…” you groaned, feeling her hips slap against your ass with the most brutal rhythm you’ve ever felt.

“I come whenever I want, sweet thing,” Kafka says nonchalantly, smacking a hand to your rear to keep you steady for her. “Your father will never catch me, he’ll never think to check his sweet little daughter’s room for a Stellaron Hunter…”

She delivers a particularly sharp thrust to your folds and you automatically collapse to your stomach. The fat tip of her cock pushing so deeply and making you moan with ecstasy. “Mmm, that’s a sound I love to hear,” Kafka chuckles, her deep and husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “You never disappoint, princess…”

You roll your eyes and grit your teeth, trying to get back up and prove her wrong. “Why did you even c-come here…it’s too dangerous, the whole ship is on lockdown.”  

“You think I’m afraid of a little risk, dear?” Kafka laughs, angling her hips so she could get you back down on your stomach. “You must not know me that well, then.”

You gasp when she grabs your hips and starts slamming back into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. The thick, girthiness of her shaft proved too much for you to handle as you gripped your bedsheets to muffle your mouth from screaming. 

“Hmmm, that’s no good…” Kafka tuts, reaching a hand over to your scalp with tease. “I want to…hear you!” 

She suddenly yanks you up by the hair and you gasp from the sheer pain and pleasure you felt at that moment. “Oh! Kafka, fuck…!” You whimpered.

“There’s my girl…” she grins, licking her lips and having a grand ole time rutting into you. “Oh, I just wish I could see the look on your old man’s face when he finds out what I’m doing to you.”

She smirks at the thought and looks up at the ceiling with amusement. “To think his sworn enemy; me, was actually fucking his daughter in her bedroom this whole time…” she laughs and starts thrusting her cock even faster at the thought, getting turned on at the idea of ruining you. “What would your father think, dear?”

She looks down at you with a satisfied smile, knowing she’s got you right where she wants you. 

“Mmh…my father will…kill you on the spot…” you groan, your body instinctively moving on its own to meet the thrusts of Kafka’s hips. 

“Yeah, but you won’t let him, will you?” Kafka grins, leaning over to get a little closer to your ear. “You love me too much to do that. So much so that you’re getting drunk on my cock right now…”

Your cunt throbs at her words and you can’t help but whimper at the thought. You knew it was wrong to be sleeping with a Stellaron Hunter that your father so desperately wanted to arrest, but you couldn’t help it. She was just so charming and flirtatious, so much so that after just one meeting on your ship, she had you in your bed and completely stripped of your clothes. Ensuring the beginning of numerous one night stands with the Stellaron Hunter, as Kafka will oftentimes break into the ship just to sleep with you…

And yet, that’s what you thought this was, just another one night stand with Kafka like always. You didn’t think too much of it, but this time it seemed a little different. Kafka was more clingy, more possessive. It was prominent in the way she held you close, wrapping her arms around your torso and pressing sweet kisses to the back of your neck. She was more loving, less lustful. And you were starting to feel the side effects.

“You know, I can’t help but wonder how you feel about all this,” Kafka hums, hugging you from behind while moving her hips at a slower rhythm. “You give in to me so much easier now, perhaps…you’re starting to like me back?” 

You bit your lip and cursed at the fluttery feeling inside your chest. Somehow, you had fallen for the Hunter’s charms and ended up catching feelings throughout your sporadic one night stands. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but the heart wants what the heart wants and you couldn’t bear to say no. 

“…You’ve gone quiet now. Where was all that yap from earlier?” She whispers, tilting your chin up to look back at her. When you continued to stay silent, however; the thought dawned upon her and realization struck. Oh. You did fall for her. To the point where you were too embarrassed to admit your carnal desire for the woman.

“…I see.” Was all she said at your silence, slowly moving closer to hug you more affectionately. “Well, you don’t have to make that decision yet. I’m making it for you.”

“Wha— ah!” You gasped as she began slamming her shaft harder and deeper, guttural groans escaping Kafka’s throat, as she brought you closer to the brink of climax. “I’ve always fancied having you around, sweet girl.” She smirked, gripping her fingers around your breasts and squeezing whilst going to town. “So I figured, enough was enough. I want to have you as my companion.”

Her eyes softened at the way you tensed up in her hold, snaking an arm around your stomach before leaning in to kiss your shoulder.

“You’re probably worth about…what, five million credits? Ten million? Hundred million?” She chuckles as you grip her shaft with need, her movements slowing down as it was clear you were getting close to your high. “Either way, you’re worth more than anything in this galaxy right now.”

Your breath hitched as you tighten around her cock, feeling the ridges rub you closer to your orgasm while Kafka spoke sweet sentences in your ear.

“I’d love to add you to my bounty, rack up the numbers with you by my side,” she sighs at the idea and is left daydreaming about the reaction of your father when he finds out about this. You, his sweet, innocent daughter joining the Stellaron Hunters of all people? He would have a heart attack…

“So, what do you say, my dear?” Kafka hums, shoving her length as far as it could go before feeling you release all over her harness. “Care to join me on my bounty? You’d be worth quite a pretty penny…”

Your breathing was labored, and sweat coated your skin, yet you turned to face her with a knowing smile.

“Do I…hah…have a choice?”

Kafka laughs at your expression before moving down to kiss you. 

“Mm, sorry, you don’t.”

You smiled at that. 

[hiwofumi]

       𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭         

starring ⭒ kishibe ⭒ fem reader

tags ⭒ fluff ⭒ age gap ⭒ suggestive scenes ⭒ pet names (for kishibe: old man, dear) ⭒ size difference (reader is smaller than kishibe) ⭒ 1.7k words

note ⭒ started making the banner, had a breakdown, bon appétit 🫠 ⭒ big thank you to the dears @akicore and @blueparadis for beta reading!

𝟏 ︱ THE CONFESSION

“I like you.”

You’re seated next to him in the quiet of a meeting room when you blurt it out. He’s slouching over the wide table, tapping the surface with his fingers, a hair’s breadth of patience left. When he hears you, his fingers stop. Then he turns to you. “Why?”

He retains his lax expression. He’s noticed through your gestures—your habit of lacing your arm around his as you walk, your common act of sitting too close to him (like you are at present). Always him and no one else.

“I’m just an old man. You’re a charming young lady.” He adds.

“Give yourself some credit, old man,” you say, eyeing him casually, resting your cheek on your palm. “Sure, you’re rough around the edges, but I like that about you.”

He always thought your affection was platonic, a young devil hunter doting on her eldest senior. It didn’t necessarily help—if there was anyone who knew best what happened to the good ones, it was him.

He’s certain he won’t ask you to stop anytime soon, though.

“What do you say?” you ask.

“I say you’re crazy,” he responds.

“Is that a no?”

He deliberates as he gazes at you. “No. I like crazy.”

Intrigued by his answer, you reach for his scar, grazing it with the pads of your fingers. His thin beard scratches your palm. His fixed stare tells you he’s waiting for a motion.

The space between you recedes until your lips touch.

You know the taste of whisky and menthol cigarettes, but not when they came from his mouth. Not when he was written all over them.

They taste better like this.

When Makima walks in, you’re settled comfortably on his lap, and your lipstick smears the edges of his mouth. You both turn to her with alarm, the faces of two people caught.

“What’s this?” she smirks, then she turns to you. “I’m surprised. You never struck me as the antique type.”

𝟐 ︱ THE LIFE

When Kishibe was alone, he would come home late at night to inebriate or ​sleep his inebriation away. His apartment was empty whether he was in it or not; every space seemed cold and hollow, void of anything worthwhile. He refused to stick around for long periods of time.

Now it’s a dresser crowded with makeup products, a closet with nude-colored bras and panties, and a bathroom drain clogged with hair.

It’s also button-ups of contrasting sizes in the washer, big and small dress shoes in the genkan, and the empty side of the bed pleasantly filled.

He’s never felt warmer in his home.

“Eat your fruit, old man,” you lean over the armchair he sits in with a plate of sliced apples in your hand. You offer him a genial smile along with it.

His eyes reflect the motions of what’s on TV as he accepts the plate. “I don’t think you should keep calling me ‘old man,’”

You sit on one of the chair’s armrests. “How’s ‘baby’ sound?”

“Anything but that,” he says plainly, feeding the first piece of apple he picks up to you.

You chew loudly, uttering in between, “Master?”

“You’re not my student anymore,”

“Kishibe?”

“That’s just my name.”

“Hmm,” your tongue protrudes from your cheek. Then you tip your head toward him, “Dear?”

You see it in his pause: the slight curve of his lips, indicating you’ve hit the jackpot.

“I like that.”

𝟑 ︱ THE INTIMACY

“Oh dear,”

Your bare skin rubs against dark sheets as you shift sideways, your head throbbing, a soreness between your thighs. The air you’ve woken up to reeks of liquor and sin.

When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by the old scars on Kishibe’s broad back. He turns to face the ceiling with his eyes still closed, his gray hair sticking out at the sides. “What?” he asks groggily, another layer of gruffness to his voice; it was like that in the morning.

“Did we . . . ?”

His eyes flutter open. He looks down, raises your shared blanket to peek under it, then puts it back. “Looks like it.”

You groan and roll to the other side, facing away from him. “I can’t remember a thing,” you rub your face with your palms.

“I can remember some things,” he faces your side and shifts closer, wrapping his arm around your bare waist, pressing his front to your back. His chin rests on the crown of your head.

“Like what?” you put your hand over his as his fingers caress your stomach.

“Your pretty face,” he murmurs lowly. “Your pretty sounds.”

A breathy chuckle escapes your nose. “Was I good?”

His palm flattens on your stomach. Then it glides downward, to the middle of your thighs, leaving a streak of warmth in its wake. Your lungs feel compressed in your rib cage.

He lingers there, and your mind falls into a one-track state, absorbed in the bliss of his motions.

“So good,” he indulges in your mewls, presses himself to you further, and you squirm.

𝟒 ︱ THE FEAR

For the majority of his life, Kishibe had only seen people die, die, and die.

With you working in the same field, the thought of you joining those people inevitably crept into his mind. It’s another reason to drink, another reason to lie awake at night with a head full of troubles that drown out the sound of your light snoring.

You’re never out of his sight when you’re working together, and you’re never at peace when you’re not. Your cellphone has never received so many calls in one day.

One night, as he undresses on the edge of the bed after a day at work, you straddle his lap. You drape your arms around his shoulders, over his half-undone button-up, and regard him with a tender smile.

He shouldn’t be bothered when you’re a heavenly sight, but the thought creeps into his mind again. He could lose this smile through your line of work. He could lose this existence if you weren’t careful.

For once, he wears his heart on his sleeve. “I think you should resign.”

Your smile falls. There’s no returning from this.

He continues, “Don’t worry about supporting your family. I’ll take care of it.”

Your eyes cast down to his loose necktie. You take it between your fingers and rub the silk. You deliberate for several moments, and the longer he waits, the louder the thumping in his chest resounds.

You meet his eyes with resolve, smiling again. “No.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you continue, “Look, I know I’m not as strong as you are. Nobody is. But I can take care of myse—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “I’m not saying you can’t. I just want you to—”

“Be safe?” you cup his cheeks, leaning closer until your noses brush. “I know, dear.”

He breathes you in. He notes the growth of your pupils before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I can’t lose ya.”

“You won’t,” you kiss him, too, and linger on his lips. “In fact, I’ll stick around for so long that you’ll get sick of me.”

His heart settles. In a wave of relief, he takes you into his arms and stands. He kneels on the bed, sets your head down on the pillow, and swallows you with his frame. “You’ll get sick of me first,”

𝟓 ︱ THE RESOLVE

“Do you wanna get married?”

Your eyes grow, then shift from the ceiling to set on him. You lie together in bed; sweat sheens his forehead, and his bare chest rises and falls rapidly, like yours. But he sounded calm when he asked, and he looks calm as you observe him.

He turns his head to you. “If I die, everything I own will be yours. I don’t have much, but I’d like you to have all of it.”

In your pensive silence, your breathing eases. You shift your body and face his side, propping your head up on one elbow. “You make it sound like you have to convince me to marry you.”

He replies with a semblance of hope, “Is that a yes?”

You hum in brief thought. “Do you have a ring?”

He pauses, then says, “Not at the moment.”

“Then no,” you switch sides curtly, facing your back to him. He saw it coming.

You meant it lightly. But the following night, as you drink with your colleagues, your several calls to him go unanswered.

Your beer glass sweats in your hand. You wonder if it has to do with your rejection, or worse: What if something’s happened?

Your anxiety branches out, multiplying thought after thought: Should I have accepted his proposal the first time? Was that his last chance to ask me? My last chance to say yes? Are his possessions ever going to be mine like he hoped?

Your colleagues watch you closely, wanting and attempting to assure you that he’s fine. But they know as well as you do that you can never tell.

Then gray hair sticks out of the curtains, a head lowered to fit into the doorframe, and the first pair of eyes he meets is yours.

You’re on the verge of tears with your phone pressed to your ear. You put it down abruptly. “Where the hell were you?”

He trudges toward you, to the end of the low table where you sit alone, and kneels at your side. “Are you drunk? Why are you crying?”

“You weren’t answering my calls,” you sob, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, looking down abashedly.

“I was getting you something,” his hand disappears under his coat. “It was hard to pick.”

He holds a small velvet box out to you and opens it, prompting a collective gasp from your colleagues. “Will you say yes this time?”

The ring matches his silver hair; its tiny stones adorning the sides of the center stone resemble the long scar on his cheek. Your glossy eyes reflect its luster, blurring with the spill of more tears. You nod at him.

Cheers rip through the silence of the room and disrupt the peace of the establishment. He slides the ring into your finger, presses a kiss to your hand, then your lips. “I’ll never leave your side.”

You sniff and smile against the brush of his thumbs under your wet eyes, the tender kiss he lays on your forehead. “I’ll take your word for it.”

network ⭒ @tokyometronetwork

[snotbuggle]

Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.

Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.

Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.

I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)

Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.

Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.

ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you” (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.

Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?

Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.

In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.

[laikabu]

re: my thoughts on laios’s sexuality (long post ahead lol)

let me start this post with this. first, this contains a lot of references to the new adventurer’s bible world guide book released last february. i can read japanese, but i’m sure they’re translated somewhere. general spoiler warning in case. also… i am ESL, so sorry for any grammar errors

second, if you’re on the team that insists laios doesn’t care about humans enough to form relationships, either read the manga again or at the very least read this thread.

last, please don’t chime in with your acearo headcanons on this post. there’s already a majority of posts here that insist laios is acearo and that anything else is impossible. i don’t like it the same way i don’t like when someone declares they hc marcille as bisexual to a poster who reads her as lesbian. i already have enough people here who declare he’s ace on my own art. at least people on twitter of all places don’t do this sort of thing to me. nothing in this manga is canon, you can headcanon anything i won’t get mad if you hc him as bi or something. just. don’t be weird on my post.

okay. trust me, i love women, and i love the idea of making my favs women lovers but the idea of laios being gay really appeals to me because of his background. this isn’t fueled by yaoi since i don’t even ship the only m/m relationship i bring up here, i just think it adds a nice layer to his disconnect with his own humanity

i do think laios has a very abstract relationship with his sexuality for a multitude of reasons. he grew up in a very conservative backwater village. he has a hard time recognizing his own feelings towards others just as much as vice versa. i don’t really care for the “laios is a monsterfucker” agenda people are pushing but i do think he’d engage in sexual thoughts in his own weird way, i won’t deny his deviantart fetish shit

as an autistic person myself, i relate to how he’d prioritize his special interest over social interactions. after all, he was fixated on monster food so he’s distracted from dark thoughts. he’s not an actual glutton

he’s shy around women, but i don’t think it’s out of attraction. i just think it’s because he’s awkward and doesn’t want to be seen as a threat. there’s a couple of times when, out of armor, he deliberately tries to make himself look smaller and nonthreatening.

he didn’t show any interest towards ashivia (the hubby hunter girl marcille replaced) and just humored her because she wouldn’t leave him alone. his other party members thought he was giving her special treatment so he had to tell her he “doesnt want to give her special treatment anymore”(even though he never did), so she left

ashivia did her best to butter herself up to laios and he didn’t care, but laios thought shuro was his bestest friend in the whole world because he was too much of a pushover to reject him. ironically… what ashivia did to him parallels what he was doing to shuro

also… yeah sorry i keep bringing up that one comic of laios saying if he were falin he’d marry shuro and then begging him to take him back to his country, or that comic of laios wondering why he doesn’t like him(and then the first two questions he asks the magic mirror was what if he or shuro were women). i don’t even ship them! but it’s not a reach to assume that he likes men because of this, even if it’s kinda played like a joke(after all,a lot of people like chilshi even though their ‘shippy’ interaction was played as a joke)

of course, given the setting, i don’t think knows he’s gay, he wouldn’t have the vocabulary to label himself. i do want to dance around with the idea of him forcibly confronting his own sexuality after years of yaad pressuring him to produce heirs lol. laios might not be cishet but he’s a king so he rdgaf about that right now. i’m open to him having female consorts for political reasons, but i don’t think he’s into women, is all.

before anyone brings up his succubus… god forbid an author makes hetbait. a part of the plot twist was that not-marcille wasn’t the only succubus enticing laios, his other party members were copied too. she was the only one who approached him. also… succubi aren’t always inherently romantic. once it realized marcille didn’t work, it switched to appeal to his desire to be a monster.

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,173

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

He was sitting by himself in a clearing, empty and lush with greenery surrounding him. You’d been watching for a while now, waiting for people to leave so that you could catch him alone.

He was surrounded by string, wood, and feathers, carefully crafting new arrows with gracefully elegant movements.

“Neteyam!”

You were the last person he expected to see, the last person to call out to him. His head snapped up, a blank look on those large golden eyes. And then he broke into a frenzy, trying to grab up everything he possibly could so that he could flee.

You stifle your eye roll as you walk through the grass, stopping in front of him with your hands on your hips.

“Well? Are you going to keep being an ass and not say hi?” you prompt and he stood up from his spot, several items still littered around him in the cool grass.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” he murmured, looking at you in the same sad way that a puppy would look up at the person who’d kicked it.

“Neteyam te Tsyeyk’itan, you stop behaving like a child and grow up for at least one conversation!”

You were tired of this little dance and tired of the way you both moved, as if parallels that would never meet. 

So yeah.

Maybe you snapped a little harder than you meant to.

It seemed to work, though, as he blinked, ears pricked forward attentively. Good. Now you’ve got him where you needed him to be.

“Neteyam, I didn’t mean any of it. So please, stop avoiding me. I…”

You hesitate. Why is it so hard to spit out what you’re needing to?

“I’m sorry, Neteyam.”

Your voice was soft, full of emotions that you felt deep in the core of your being.

“I want you. Probably as much as you want me. I’ve been trying to fight it, trying to ignore it, but you made it impossible to ignore. So I snapped at you and pushed you away. I’m sorry.”

Neteyam looked at you for a moment before giving you a soft smile, previous anger and sadness in his eyes gone.

“You’re… you have emotions towards me? Good ones?” he asked quietly and you blush, nodding. Your hand falls to your arm, rubbing the skin in an awkward manner. Everything about this whole moment was awkward. Until it wasn’t.

“I love you, Neteyam. I never stopped loving you.”

You were both taken aback by your sudden outburst, your brain unable to handle the awkwardness between you two.

His smile grows into a full, bright smile, and he reached out to you, pulling you into his arms, against his chest.

“I can’t tell you how long I have waited to hear that from your mouth,” he whispered, chin resting atop your head. Your head moves to rest against his chest, listening to the soft beat of his heart, your soul soothed just by being close to him again.

“I love you, yawne. More than you’ll ever know,” he whispered, cupping your cheek with his hand.

His lips met yours, hands moving to hold the back of your head, and your arms wrap around his ribcage, bodies pressed against each other as the kiss deepened into a hungry, eager one. You could feel his body grinding against yours, starving for the feeling of your touch.

Your fingers trail down his chest, following his curve down to his tewng. Daintily, you skim over the growing bulge, straining against the fabric as you break the kiss.

“You should finish what you started four years ago,” you whisper, his breath hot against your lips.

“I’ve been waiting,” he responded, just as quiet, his hands falling to the underside of your ass to pick you up. Your legs wrap around his hips to keep yourself from falling from his grasp.

His hand slid down a bit more, fingers slipping past your tewng to slip into the heat between your thighs, and you gasp softly, clutching tightly to his body.

Slowly, his fingers pump in and out of you, thumb flicking over your clit, teasing you. You moan softly against his touch, wiggling a bit at the stimulation, body highly sensitive and receptive towards him.

“I think we have plenty of time,” he whispered in your ear. “For now, I just want to please you. I want you to know that this is about you right now.”

His fingers continued to pump into you, the rough pad of his thumb giving a delicious amount of friction and roughness to have you trembling in his grasp.

His lips met yours again, tongue swiping over your teeth and tongue, passionate and ravenous for your taste.

You wanted more, yet your brain told you that this was simply enough. Your body was tensing up, a coil building up within the pit of your stomach, and he could feel your spine arching inwards, chest pressing tighter against his own. His fingers pump into your soaked heat with a new vigor, his only goal to get you to your climax.

He wasn’t failing. You were getting closer and closer, fastly climbing up that mountain to the high that would follow right after you hit your orgasm.

You hadn’t been touched like this, not since before when he’d been here and everything had been perfect and shrouded by clouds of love and innocent trust.

You groan softly against his lips, fingers threading through his braided locks before tightening around them, gripping them as if they were the only thing keeping you held tight against him.

His fingers were working with an urgency, applying as much friction as possible without causing pain. They pressed and wiggled against your gummy walls and he hummed softly, feeling you tighten around his digits.

“Cum for me, my pretty girl,” he whispered in your ear as he gently nipped at the shell, feeling the way they fluttered against his lips.

His words, mixed with the friction, were enough to bring you to the end of the mountain you were climbing.

Your head tilted back as your spine arched, a gasp escaping your lips as the coil shattered within your stomach, your body tight and tense with the intensity of the climax. If his fingers could do this to you, you couldn’t help but imagine what the rest of him could do.

Neteyam grinned, lowering you down into the grass before laying down beside you, pulling you close as his fingers ran lightly over your skin. You take the hand that had been touching your lower half with such passion, and you pop his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them in an attempt to lick your taste from his skin.

He continued to hold you close, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder and upper back.

“I love you,” you whisper softly to him and he pulls you closer against his chest, kissing your cheek lightly.

“I love you too. I always have and I always will.”

Taglist // @earthling55 / @cardi-bre91 / @bambithewriter

[green-alm0nd]

[Crosshair x gn!reader]: Leave a light on.

----

----

Summary:

After Crosshair joined the squad again, he's made peace with everyone; except you. And you're willing to change that.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR TBB S3, Crosshair being snarky and sarcastic, Tantiss, torture, mostly angst, but some fluff too, kissing, swearing, trauma, mentions of Order 66, mixed feelings, established relationship. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

----

When Crosshair rejoined his squad, he never really showed anyone nor told anyone about his hand tremors from time to time.

You noticed a few weeks later, and so did the squad. You had gotten a very quick, curt explanation while the rest got a more detailed version (because Omega forced Crosshair to do so) even though they didn't really know if it a was mental or physical matter.

He had explained to everyone what they did to him on Tantiss, except for you. He had simply told you that his hand shook involuntarily from time to time.

He didn't add anything else, that was the only piece of information he had given you.

And you felt a bit frustrated about that, especially because you were his significant other. Although the relationship was...distant, it was still that: a relationship.

You were picking up some crates to bring from the port to Upper Pabu, and decided to organise your thoughts on the way back to the port. You figured that it was probably for the best if you spoke with Crosshair.

So, you did. After leaving the crates where Shep said to leave them, you slowly walked towards the snarky sniper, but realised that he was talking to Omega and AZI.

"If you were to elaborate more on the experimentation you were subjected to, I could determine the cause-"

Crosshair let out an exasperated sigh.

"Forget it." He said, before storming off.

...

You managed to find him looking at the seashore, leaning on the railing. He was probably deep in thought, by the way the frown on his face deepened.

"Cross." You called, from afar.

To this, Crosshair turned around and looked at your feet, unable to stare at your eyes.

"You and I have to talk. Now." You stated, crossing your arms.

"Why?" He asked, finally staring at you after a while. He had already had enough with AZI and Omega, and he didn't want to face you now.

You raised an eyebrow. "We both know why. Come on." You said, motioning for him to follow you.

...

You arrived at your shared cottage, and you sat down on your bed while Crosshair leaned against the wall.

"Hunter told me about your hand." You commented, trying to start the conversation.

"Of course he has." He grumbled in response, annoyed. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"Can you blame him? You haven't told me a thing ever since you came back." You answered.

Crosshair scoffed in response, his gaze piercing your souls as he finally looked at you. "There's nothing to talk about."

"There certainly is."

Clicking his tongue, the sniper waited for you to elaborate, though he was the one who was supposed to elaborate.

"I didn't hear from you for months after Order 66. You're transported into this unknown place, and then you suddenly come back and you don't want to have a conversation with me about anything?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He replied, gritting his teeth. His hand started trembling, and he cursed quietly before clenching his fists and looking at you.

"Then why have you told your brothers and not me?" You asked, desperate.

"Because you blame yourself for everything!" Crosshair finally yelled.

Your eyes widened, staring at him with a confused expression on your face.

"If I told you what they did to me in Tantiss you would blame yourself for everything. I know because I know you. And I know that if I told you that I was submitted to unforgettable torture measures you'd blame yourself, and I didn't want that. I told my brothers because they know it was my mistake. But for some damn reason, you always feel guilty for a choice I made!" He spat, breathing heavily.

With AZI telling him about talking about what he went through, and you wanting to know, his head started to hurt. So, he figured it was best if he tried to get some air before things escalated further, which was something he did not wish for at the moment.

...

You were left at your shared apartment, your mouth running dry. Was the fact that you didn't blame him for anything the reason why he never told you?

If anything, he was right. You did blame yourself. If things had gone according to plan, Crosshair would've been free from all the torture and everything else.

In the meantime, the sniper wondered if he had gone too far. He sighed, staring into the ocean, as the sun began to hide. One of his hands rested on the stone railing, while the other hung loosely.

He heard footsteps from behind, but didn't bother to look at the person, already knowing it was you. He felt something intertwine with his hand, and flinched at the touch.

"What." He said. It didn't even sound like a question, but a statement.

You stared at him, determined.

"I want you to tell me about Tantiss. I need to know." You answered. "I don't care if you think I feel guilty, I can't wait for another day."

Crosshair gulped, his snarky personality slowly disappearing.

"Fine." He grumbled, rolling his eyes.

...

"...That's...why Hemlock is dangerous."

You stared at Crosshair, with a sad expression. Your hands reached for his.

Crosshair was never a man fond of physical affection, he was always more into acts of service. In this intimate moment, however, he let your hands rest in his, though his body screamed for him to get away.

"Thank you, for telling me. I'm sorry for insisting so much." You told him, with a small smile.

He nodded, and decided to exit his comfort zone, and awkwardly placed an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

You chuckled softly.

"Hey, you don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable with it." You commented, smiling at the sniper.

He grunted in response, slowly bringing his lips to your hair.

You closed your eyes, smiling at the sun, who finally said goodbye for the day. Your lips found Crosshair's, quietly thanking him for telling you his story. He had definitely gone through a lot, and you appreciated his honesty.

"You're surprisingly clingy today." You chimed.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Is it because you missed me and my charming self, Cross?" You teased, smirking.

"You're being an idiot." Crosshair responded.

"It's called confidence."

"It's called being an idiot." Crosshair, though annoyed, still enjoyed your bickering.

----

I have a French official exam tomorrow and I am shaking in fear :')

Reblogs and shares are very appropriated! Requests are still open :p

[fairyaali]

Kill me.

pairing: Neteyam Sully X f!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, All characters are aged 19+, Swearing, Smut. 

Description: You are a threat to Neteyam’s pride and one day he decides to threaten you. 

neteyam brainrot brrrr

Neteyam is an incredible hunter. The best amongst his people. No one could surpass him and soon enough he would live to surpass his father.

it was written in stone for him 19 years ago.

When you showed up and caught up to Neteyam as a hunter, you took everyone by surprise. He thought of you as a threat to his title, one of the first people in the clan to reach his standard.

What really got him aggravated was the fact that he found this attractive, but only when you do it - in fact it made his blood boil.

He wasn’t used to feeling this worked up over someone. To look at them and feel drawn towards them. To be lustful towards them. To think about them constantly.

you thought the same of him.

you remember when you saw him hunting for the first time ; his back angled perfectly, his eyes dead set on what’s in front of him- they were dark and low, with a glint of determination in them, he parted his lips gently and licked his upper lip - his tongue softly gliding on the tip of his upper lip, brushing along his teeth, his slender fingers touching the bow and swiftly pulling it back, shooting the arrow at his target.

You did it to impress him at first but then you saw how competitive he got and it made you want to see more.

his mother and father trained him for so long to the point where he was expected to surpass his father.

but when he had a knife against your throat while also pushing you against a tree, he didn’t know what to feel.

He was breathing heavily, his hot breaths fanning your face and matching yours. You didn’t know how you got here.

all you can remember before this was you running after your prey with a knife and catching it. He was following behind- unable to beat you at catching the prey first. you closed your eyes and parted your lips to pray to Eywa for your kill and all of a sudden you feel a force lifting you up and holding a knife against your throat.

When you opened your eyes you were met with a glaring, deadly stare - a familiar one.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he growls between breaths.

You gulped as you stared at him - he looked dead serious about this.

You felt like you had to choose your words carefully.

You didn’t know what he meant by it so you stare at him with a puzzled expression.

“What?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

Neteyam visibly clenched his jaw and breathes deeply.

“You know what.” he states and then continues.

“Competing against me?,” he gets closer to your face. “Making me feel things i shouldn’t?” he says in a low voice.

You part your lips and look into his eyes again.

You didn’t realize how much of an effect this had on him- you competing against him.

You were too deep in it to step down now and frankly, you were too prideful to stop.

You couldn’t lie to yourself though - him getting all worked up like this is making your entire body heat up and it’s giving you a tingling feeling in your lower stomach.

your lips curl into a small smile, “what about it?” you ask him and you could see a shift in him while his body tensed up.

His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and you notice his grip on his knife soften.

“I could kill you right now if I wanted to,” He whispers and his eyes find yours again.

He brings the knife up towards your face.

You watch him lick his lips as he gently brushes it against your lips.

“but I can’t.” he finally adds and hovers over you more, making you feel tiny next to him.

“Kill me.” you whisper and tilt your head upwards to face him properly, “it’s your perfect chance, Neteyam.”

Hearing his own name roll off your tongue like that drove him nuts. A low growl emerged from his chest and his face inches closer towards you.

“I fucking hate what you do to me.” he breathes out and you smirk.

“shut up and kiss me already.”

With that, his lips crash into yours instantly, the knife falling down from his grip and instead both hands cup your face.

You mewl into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.

His tongue slides between your lips as you deepen the kiss.

He was hungry for it, and so were you - starved for his touch.

His hands slide down your body, groping at the tender skin. He then proceeds to slide them down your ass and grab you so you’re straddling him against the tree.

You loved being pressed up against him like this, the hard tent beneath his loincloth rubbing against your front, making both of you moan against each others lips.

“fuck, I want to destroy you.” he mumbles and starts kissing you beneath your jaw and down your neck, nibbling at the skin.

“Neteyam , I need you.” you moan out and grip onto his back, rubbing over the defined muscles.

He removed one hand from your ass and sets you back down on your foot, keeping the other leg around him.

“Can I touch you, baby?” He asks, his hand gliding along your thigh.

“please.” you whisper and look down at his hand, eager for it to be between your thighs.

He moves his hand beneath your loincloth and runs a finger against your pussy.

“You’re soaked.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “all for the mighty warrior?” he nibbles your ear and pushes two fingers inside of you, causing your lips to part and your eyes rolling back.

All you could do was moan and grind against his hand as he fucked your hole with his fingers.

He fucking loved the way you were dripping all over his hand.

His thumb gently finds your clit and he rubs it, absolutely loving the way you’re whimpering beneath him.

Your hand moves down his chest until it found the bulge thats hidden beneath the loincloth.

Your hand slips beneath the garment and you brush your fingers along the length, noticing a shift in his breathing.

You wrap your hand around his length and you begin to pump his member.

He stops moving his fingers only to process how good it felt to have your hand wrapped around him.

He was bigger than you expected and all you could imagine was his cock being buried deep inside you.

He continues to move his fingers and you sigh in pleasure as he moans.

“keep going baby.” he encourages, “‘wanna cum with you.” he breaths out while keeping the same pace with his fingers but moves his thumb faster against your clit.

“‘m close…” you close your eyes and whimper his name along with some cuss words. “cum with me.” you whimper and fasten your pace with your hand, giving attention to the tip that was spewing out pre-cum.

He was too caught up in it to speak. All he could do was throw his head back and part his lips while moaning between breaths.

Seeing him like that while you desperately rode against his hand sent you over the edge and both of you moaned louder together until you saw blank.

“oh fuckkk~” he moaned out while you felt hot spurts of his seed cover your hand.

“Neteyam~” You breathed out while you continued to pump his cock and ride out your climax from his fingers.

You stared at each other while you tried to catch your breath.

His hair was a mess, his cheeks a deeper shade and sweat was gleaming down his chest.

He licked his lips and leaned in, kissing your lips tenderly once before pulling away and resting his head against yours.

His eyes melted into yours.

They were beautiful.

He was beautiful.

He didn’t think any less of you either.

He stared down at you while you looked at him with those gorgeous eyes, all fucked out, yearning for more.

He found himself lost in you completely.

he knew that from day one but now it confirmed it even more.

You were chosen by him.

[bvsatq]

making you a necklace ˚◞♡

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!na’vi! reader, stable relationship

genre: fluff  | warning: smooching, use of y/n (?) | wc: 1,290

comments: this was meant to be a short blurb while i get my brain to think of any ideas but it turned into a little more than a blurb 😋

~~

neteyam always walked around with beautiful jewelry adorning his body. being busy with preparing for his future olo’eyktan position, he didn't have time for much. within the clan, you were known for making the most beautiful jewelry. many people wanted you to make them tops, ceremonial jewelry, and just jewelry overall. 

neteyam was one lucky man. not only were you talented you were also an amazing hunter, warrior, and healer. what a woman. 

he never really asked you to make him jewelry but you enjoyed it and since he didn't really have the time for it you took that chance to spoil your mate with jewelry. he loved every single piece you made him, always adding something that represented things very dear to neteyam or just adding beads and little rocks that reminded you of him. 

out of everything you made him, his most favorite pieces would be matching ones with you. when he asked you to braid his hair he’d always request to add the same beads your hair had. this gave him an odd sense of comfort. 

today you were out with some hunters doing what you did best, hunting. it was an all day hunt which neteyam hated. his father and mother had some “business” to do so they were out, giving neteyam a free day. he whined all morning about how you shouldn't go, why were you leaving him, and that he was going to die all alone.

 “what a baby” you thought to yourself. it did suck that you were assigned this hunt the very same day neteyam had a free day, but what could you do about it. you gave him some kisses and reassured him you’d be safe then bid him goodbye and left. he sat on the ground like a baby and slumped down. “i could go hunting too!” he said out loud, eyes growing wide having thought an amazing idea. he stood up but quickly sat down again remembering his father's words. 

“me and your mother are off, look out for your siblings. you have worked hard son, do not go out and do more work.” he quickly nodded trying to get to his beautiful mate back home as soon as possible. jake wasn't dumb. he knew his son, sure he knew neteyam knew he needed this break but he also knew if neteyam saw work to be done he’d do it. not without dragging you with him too. he sighed, “neteyam, it is an order, stay home and rest” he nodded again. he bid his mother and father goodbye and sped walked over to yours and his shared hut.

neteyam went back to slumping. “UGH” he sighed dramatically and layed down, closing his eyes, picturing you. his father had eyes everywhere so he’d know if he went and did not rest. he sat back up and stood up. “hmm” he hummed, walking around the hut looking for something to do.

that's when he spotted your newest piece. it was a beautiful beaded top with the colors of the forest. like before, his eyes went wide with an amazing idea he thought of, he’ll make you a necklace! he smiled to himself and started collecting all the stuff. he wanted it to be special. 

he hadn't made jewelry in a while so it took him some time to get the rhythm of it. he chose beautiful color beads he thought matched you along with some little rocks and feathers. he was determined to make the necklace three layers so it took him all day. he was very concentrated during this whole thing, his tongue poking out every now and then. he was finishing off the last layer when he hears you come in.

“neteyam?” you asked out loud. you got no answer so you sat your things down and began to walk deeper into your guys’ hut. “nete?.. there you are!” you smiled as his back came into view, he looked so beautiful just sitting there, eywa you were so in love. “hey yawne” you smiled at the nickname as he turned around, standing up. “how did it go?,” he leaned into your body, wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “it went well, no one was hurt and we got plenty” “that's good,” he inhaled and smiled against your skin, planting a small kiss there.

“so teyam, what were you up to all day?” “i made you something” your eyes lit up as he lifted his head and sat down, dragging you down with him. “it isn’t the best but i made it with much love for my love” he sweetly smiled at you. your heart squeezed with adoration towards your mate. “okay look close your eyes.” you did as you were told. you hear something jingle as he stands up and goes to pick something up. he sits back down right in front of you. 

“okay, open them.” in front of was a beautiful three layer necklace. “oh my eywa! neteyam this is beautiful, what do you mean it isn't the best? this is amazing!” he smiled, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. you smiled so wide you could've sworn your cheeks were growing sore. “well i’m not as good as you yawne” “not as good as me? neteyam this is so beautiful you might as well steal my job!” his cheeks heat up even more, smiling so wide his cheeks also probably going sore. “here, put it on me” he grabs your waist and turns you around himself, pushing your hair to the side, clipping the necklace around your neck. 

you look down to admire all the small details closer. sure, they were all your beads, rocks, and feathers but he made the necklace and threaded everything so uniquely you were starstruck. 

he was looking at you smiling wide and looking down to admire his work. he thought about how lucky he is to have you. he thanked eywa for you. you are his everything, sometimes the only thing that keeps him from going insane with all of his training and duties. his clan is so lucky to have you as a future tsahik.

“i'm never getting over this, this is so beautiful, thank you! thank you!” you smiled up at him, tackling him to the ground hugging him. he chuckled as you left kisses all over his face. 

“that's not fair! how are you gonna kiss me everywhere but my lips!,” he pouted. he grabbed you by the waist and sat down, sitting you down on his lap. you grabbed both sides of his face and gave him a fat kiss on the lips. “there you go” “mmmh much better, thank you yawne” he pressed his forehead against yours and smiled stealing another kiss. “hey!” “what? can’t i kiss my mate now?” you chuckled and gave him another kiss. 

“come on it's very late and we have things to do tomorrow.” it was true, you guys had a lot to do. thankfully it made up for not spending much time together today because all of your guys’ tasks were together. “but i want to hear about your day y/n” “yes well let's go over there and cuddle in our hammock then we talk about our day” you stood up, him following you, holding your hand. 

when cuddling he saw you look down and fidget with your new necklace smiling softly at it. saying you loved your new necklace was an understatement. you’d never take it off now. always having the beautiful gift your mate gave you around your neck. he was so proud of it, loving seeing you walk around head high with his making wrapped around your neck. 

[poisonlove]

Misunderstanding

Prompt: Amidst the glitz and glamour of the entertainment world, Y/N finds herself entangled in a web of emotions. Navigating the captivating landscape of her newfound celebrity life, her heart becomes a battleground between two captivating co-stars, Emma and Jenna. The boundaries between fiction and reality blur, leading Y/N into a maze of confusion. With Emma's vibrant charm and Jenna's enigmatic aura, Y/N grapples with a choice that could redefine not only her on-screen performances but also the very fabric of her personal bonds. Blinding lights cast shadows on her feelings, leaving Y/N torn between two captivating forces in a world where fiction collides with reality.

Wordcount: 1.9 k

Pairing: Jenna ortega x reader

Author: sorry for this shit

It's amazing how a simple pastime can turn into an extraordinary opportunity.

My world, where I enjoyed imitating movie characters in online videos, was shaken by the surprising news from Tim Burton. The master of dark cinema personally chose me for a role in the second season of Wednesday Addams. The transition from a simple pastime to a set with a professional cast, a renowned director, and a real dressing room is something I could never have imagined.

I was nervous as I watched the cast of the first season, observing me with enthusiasm and joy, new faces to see and integrate into the plot. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights, taken aback by all this unexpected attention.

"Welcome!" Hunter, a guy with puffy brown hair and a perpetual smile, extends his hand to greet me. With a small smile on my lips, I accept the greeting and chuckle with embarrassment. "Thanks," I reply with flushed cheeks, not sure why I should thank him.

"Finally! I was tired of always working with the same faces," Joy intervenes with a smile on her lips. The girl had a drink in hand and raises it to her mouth, drinking its contents. "You're always friendly, Joy," George, a guy with curly hair and sweet coffee-colored eyes, smiles at his friend with amusement. "Welcome," he adds, smiling broadly.

"Hi!" My eyes turn to the sound of the voice, and I see a girl with short brown hair and piercing blue eyes. I smile nervously, recognizing Emma Mayers: the actress was notably more beautiful in person. "You must be my new love interest," she adds, widening her lips in a beautiful smile, blue eyes looking at me attentively. "Yes..." I chuckle weakly, nervous.

I can't deny that the fact that I'm her new love interest embarrasses me: I'm not entirely sure I can pretend to flirt or kiss someone for pretend. I shudder at the mere thought. "Well, because George was a terrible experience," she says, smiling mischievously, trying to downplay the situation.

"I love you too, Em," the guy called George intervenes, rolling his eyes at her comment. The blonde laughs, and the sound of her laughter makes me shiver slightly, increasing my nervousness and causing the blood flow to stop on my cheeks. "I know," Emma sticks her tongue out at George, and he imitates the gesture.

My attention is captured by a couple talking to each other, conspiring who knows what. The guy laughs softly and puts his arm around the shoulders of the shorter girl who looks at him with a small smile on her lips. I recognize the couple as Jenna Ortega and Percy White. I had heard rumors of a possible romance between them, but I thought it was nothing more than a rumor: I knew the media always wanted to meddle in the lives of the famous, spreading gossip and causing a stir on the web with sensational news. But the way they look at each other and touch makes me feel a lump in my throat.

Percy directs his gaze at me and smiles broadly.

"Hi!" The brunette takes his arm off Jenna's shoulders and walks towards me. "Welcome, we're glad to have a new addition to the cast," he says, smiling with genuine happiness and kindness.

Jenna's eyes are fixed on me, and my body is suddenly invaded by shivers and excitement, my heart beating wildly. The series' protagonist approaches with an enormous smile on her lips, and my knees wobble at the beauty she radiates: Brown eyes, dazzling smile, dimples on her cheeks, and freckles surrounding her face.

"Welcome," Jenna smiles genuinely and wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tenderly. I reciprocate the hug with surprise, sighing audibly at the moment I feel her perfume invade my nostrils. The scent of what seemed like vanilla made me smile timidly.

Jenna breaks the hug and smiles genuinely at me.

"Want to take a tour of the place?" Emma intervenes quickly, approaching us. Jenna looks at her co-star with curiosity and simply takes a step back, getting close to Percy, always glued to this guy. I sigh audibly and smile at the blue-eyed girl with enthusiasm, nodding. Emma smiles triumphantly and takes my wrist. "Can I join?" Hunter says eagerly, and George looks at us attentively.

"Me too," George says pouting, and Emma nods enthusiastically.

(...)

Three weeks have passed since my arrival, and despite having a great relationship with the entire cast, Jenna, Emma, and I were practically inseparable. My feelings are a whirlwind of chaos and insecurity, not knowing exactly which girl to choose. Emma, a beautiful and friendly girl who is always ready to help me when needed, or Jenna, the stunning brunette, kind, and affectionate, but suspected to be linked with Percy.

I tried talking to George and Hunter, and both advised me to make a decision before ruining the friendship between Jenna and Emma. I didn't even know if they felt the same, and the idea of choosing one of them scared me. The most selfish part of me suggested keeping both, but my heart didn't want to suffer and, above all, feel guilty.

"Hey," I divert my attention from my thoughts and unconsciously smile when I see Jenna standing near me. "Can I sit?" She asks curiously, chewing her lip nervously.

My eyes carefully watch her gesture.

"Sure," I say, taking off my sweatshirt and placing it behind my chair. Jenna adjusts herself and crosses her legs, her thigh pressing against mine. "Are you going over the scene?" She asks curiously, her eyes watching the script in my hands. Shivers run down my spine feeling the contact of her leg with mine, the warmth emanating from her body.

"Yes..." I clear my throat, and Jenna nods, smiling shyly. I immediately notice Jenna shivering from the cold, and I worry about her. "Do you want my sweatshirt?" I ask with genuine concern, and Jenna denies, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Sure? Are you cold" I raise an eyebrow in confusion, and Jenna sighs loudly, shivering once again. The brunette nods slowly, and smiling, I take off my sweatshirt and hand it to her. Jenna puts it on, looking incredibly adorable as it hangs loosely on her.

"Thanks." Jenna smiles genuinely and comes closer, resting her head on my shoulder. Emotion grows inside me, and I nervously smile. I look down, and I see Jenna's hand brushing against mine. Gathering courage, I grab it, intertwining our fingers. I feel Jenna's pulse racing under my touch, her arm relaxing.

"So..." Jenna says in a low voice, breaking the silence around us. "Do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend?" She asks with curiosity, looking at my script resting on my legs. Jenna's thumb absentmindedly caresses the back of my hand, making me shiver slightly. In reality, I'm confused because I don't know if I feel something for Emma, but in simple terms, I'm not in a relationship. "No... what about you? Are you with Percy, right?" I ask with my heart in my throat, nervousness running through my body. Jenna raises her chin and looks at me with confusion.

I was afraid to hear her answer. Jenna breaks the contact between our hands.

"Percy? No... we're just friends." She says, smiling broadly, and I suddenly feel stupid and relieved at the same time. "Oh... I thought so," I say with flushed cheeks from embarrassment, and Jenna smiles, shaking her head. "I know... the internet spreads rumors," Jenna murmurs, puffing irritably, "but... Percy and I have nothing," her eyes sparkle as she looks at me. I couldn't help but get lost in her gaze, two coffee-colored puddles analyzing me carefully.

"Mmmh..." Jenna clears her throat and looks away at her hands, "have you set your eyes on someone?" She innocently asks, playing with her fingers. Someone? Actually, two, but obviously, I couldn't say that. "Maybe..." I say hesitantly, and Jenna looks at me from the corner of her eye, an involuntary smile spreading across her lips.

"You?" I ask with embarrassment, and Jenna nods, making a face. The blood boils in my veins at the thought of Jenna being in love with someone else. "Oh... who?" I ask almost in a whisper.

Jenna looks up, observing something in the distance. George, Emma, and Joy walking side by side, laughing, and saying some nonsense. I follow her gaze, and disappointment fills my body seeing that she was looking at George. The curly-haired guy laughs softly while playfully pushing Joy. Emma, on the other hand, looks at me with interest, smiling broadly, her beautiful smile printed on her lips. Involuntarily, I smile too, and Emma keeps looking at me, bright and lively eyes.

"Do you and Emma go out together?" Jenna asks quickly, her gaze suddenly becoming serious "No," I say with confusion, and Jenna continues to look at me attentively. Occasionally, I could sense the brunette putting up a barrier with the outside world, but I really wished she would show herself as she was. I wanted to get to know her and make an impression. A part of me wanted to do the same with Emma but the latter was already quite extroverted, and it was easy to read her emotions. Jenna, on the other hand, was unreadable.

"Oh..." Jenna looks at me with embarrassment, and I smile at how adorable she is. "I know who you like," I intervene, and Jenna's eyes widen, her body stiffening at my words.

"You have to tell him... you know?" I say with a bitter smile. Jenna softens her gaze and continues to look at me, her thoughts and feelings unreadable.

Him? She says spontaneously.

"I'm sure George will feel the same," I say, smiling broadly, hiding my pain, and Jenna snorts with frustration. "It's not George," she says with irritation, making me blink in surprise at her reaction.

Emma walks towards us and stops in front of me. I look up, and Jenna looks away towards the floor. "Y/n, shall we walk a bit? We need to rehearse," Emma says, smiling broadly, her eyes curiously looking at Jenna. The brunette was silent, her hand gripping the chair arm tightly noting Emma's interest. "Um... sure," I say, smiling slightly, following Emma.

Let's start walking without a specific destination, simply enjoying each other's company.

"So... I noticed there's something between you and Jenna," Emma says, smiling weakly, walking alongside me. The girl with blue eyes puts her arms behind her back, walking absentmindedly.

"What? We're just friends," I say nervously, my heart pounding wildly against my chest. "But you like her, right?" She asks with a faded smile, her blue eyes looking at me attentively. "Yes," I say, not being able to lie to her. Emma lowers her gaze and looks at the tips of her shoes. "But I also like you... I'm really confused," I continue suddenly revealing a truth I wanted to keep hidden.

"I like you too... but Jenna is my friend," she says, smiling broadly, her eyes bright at the mention of her friendship with Jenna. "Jen is really introverted and hard to understand... I don't want to lose her friendship," she confesses, continuing to walk alongside me.

"Why should you lose her friendship?" I ask in confusion, and Emma rolls her eyes at my comment. "It doesn't matter," she says, laughing and elbowing me in the side. "So..." I say, and she quickly interrupts me, "I'm sure you like Jenna more, I think the on-set kisses confused you," she says with sadness, her blue eyes losing their liveliness.

"Emma..." I say sadly, feeling a void in my chest. "I told you she and Percy are not together, right?" She asks, and I nod, "but despite that, you still weren't sure," she says bitterly, looking at the floor. I feel a pang of pain in my chest and nod quickly, unconsciously knowing that Emma was right.

"Don't worry about me, I'll manage," Emma smiles genuinely and chuckles, but her eyes are dull.

"Okay," I say uncertainly, "so let's remain friends," I say almost bitterly, and Emma nods her head, "friends," she repeats weakly. "Sorry, but I have to go," Emma adds quickly, her steps increasing considerably.

I watch Emma walk away from me with sadness.

...

That same night, I found myself at a small party with the cast, Emma, and Georgie, dancing animatedly together. A part of me was sad, but at the same time, Emma had given me the green light with Jenna, and I had to move forward. I was slightly jealous of Georgie, I admit.

My eyes were on Jenna, who was leaving the party, and I unconsciously followed her.

As I open the door, the cold cuts my cheeks, and darkness surrounds us, a pleasant silence accompanying us.

"Do you need some fresh air too?" Jenna asks while lighting a cigarette; she was so damn sexy. "Yes, I love Hunter, but his trailer is too small," I laugh, and Jenna just stares at me.

"So... do you like Hunter? But I'm sorry because you know that he..." I start, but Jenna quickly interrupts me, smoke escaping from her lips. "Why do you assume it's a he?" she asks almost angrily, and a shiver runs down my spine at the intensity of her gaze. "Alright... so Joy?" I say, smiling slightly, sad but ready to support her. I had already lost Emma, and the chances of losing Jenna were skyrocketing.

"No!" Jenna throws the stub on the ground, looking at me with shining eyes. Her cold and exasperated response surprised me. Jenna sighs in frustration, crossing her arms to seek warmth. I hated not being able to read what she felt and thought; it was so damn difficult.

"Why do you care?" she asks defensively, and I sigh at her comment. "I want you to be happy," I confess, and Jenna stares at me without batting an eyelash. Her eyes soften, and she takes steps toward me. "It's you," she whispers.

I blink incredulously, and Jenna smiles genuinely. "Me?" I say with a smile on my lips, curious.

"Yes, damn it!" Jenna says, frustrated. "But I was afraid you liked Emma, and I care about her friendship," she confesses later.

"I like her... but I like you more," I admit, and she looks at me seriously, something incomprehensible swimming in her eyes.

"Am I not the second choice?" she timidly asks, the barriers she had finally broken ready to rise again to defend her emotions.

I shake my head; honestly, I liked Jenna from the moment I saw her.

Sensing the tension in the air, Jenna delicately bites her lips, then sticks out her tongue to moisten them. My eyes follow her with admiration, caught by the gesture exuding sensuality.

Red, full lips, so kissable.

Without warning, Jenna leans in, her presence intensifying the atmosphere charged with desire. With confidence, her lips meet mine in a long-awaited kiss. Jenna's strength and energy transmit through the contact, while the moment becomes charged with palpable passion. Jenna's hands firmly grip my shirt, and mine find her hips almost immediately, pulling her closer. During scenes, Emma used to kiss me tenderly, slowly, without invading my space too much, which was completely the opposite of what Jenna was doing.

Oxygen soon runs out, and we break the kiss, my nose brushing against hers, my eyes able to see the freckles around her face. "Wow," Jenna says, smiling widely, her breath slightly infused with alcohol. I smile too. Jenna wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me gently. "I'm glad you didn't do anything with Emma," Jenna says, smiling against my neck. I smile bitterly and let myself be carried away by the hug and her intoxicating scent. "Yeah," I say weakly, and Jenna tightens the embrace.

I had chosen Jenna, and there was no turning back.

[ki-yomii]

helloo! could you recommend your favorite jungkook and yoongi fics? thank you and have a lovely day ♡

hey there~ 💛

... tbh i haven’t read too many fics for my boys lately 🙈

i've been trying to work through the books sitting on my shelf collecting dust + i got sucked back into fallout now that the show is out lol.

but i do have some all-time favorites!!

please mind the warnings/tags - you're responsible for your own reading consumption. that said, all of these fics are 🔞

i hope you have a great day nonnie and if you have any recs send them my way 🥰!

JUNG KOOK FICS

the crimson shell series by @angelicyoongie

mermaid aus are my lifeblood istg. and this is one of the best one's i've ever read!! it's dark, it's creepy, it's foreboding - and tantalizing. everything i love about mermaid/siren aus crammed into one series.

you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.

make you mine two-shot by @colormepurplex2

i'm a sucker for abo, and as such, have read a looot of it over the years. its a genre that's very easy to descend into wtf-how-are-they-still-alive-after-THAT territory but this fic does it very well in a way i haven't seen too often. i loved the world-building and set up.

Alphas might rule the world, but Jungkook finds himself being ruled by the need to make you his. Omegas are rare, precious, and pliant. At least, most are. When you present late, well into your twenties, you're already set in your headstrong ways; a challenge even for a commanding alpha like Jungkook. Add to that the centuries-long feud between your families and the last thing anyone expected was for him to claim you as his soulmate.

a sea of indigo series by @foxymoxynoona this was the first BTS fic i ever read... and is a big reason as to why i got into the fandom in the first place. i had no clue who they were before then. i'd heard of them + listened to agust d without knowing it was yoongi 💀 but this fic made me check out BTS RUN and now here we are 🤪

Pitbull Hybrid Jungkook has finally been freed from the fighting rings, and now finds himself at Marigold Sanctuary & Transition Estate, a place for healing and self-discovery for rescued hybrids. It's stupid, dumb, cheesy, and hell-bent on helping Jungkook "heal" and "find himself" and "decide the course of his life." And right at the center of it is Y/N, a nurse who's got everyone bamboozled that she's like some awesome person. She's not that great. Jungkook hates it here.

YOONGI FICS

witch oneshot by @sailoryooons

this is easily one of my top 3 yoongi fics. the world building, the tension, the relationship between yoongi and reader. it ticks all my boxes and vividly paints a picture of this universe. i adore the concept, and love the way this fic is brought to life through sailoryooons storytelling.

For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand. 

desolate series by @angelicyoongie

one of the first hybrid fics i've read for bts 😭 i love my lil meow meow and the set-up for this fic is amazing. it takes a fresh direction with the hybrid trope and builds a relationship that feels organic and progresses very naturally💛

you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

ps. i woof you oneshot by @gimmesumsuga

this one is just so so cute and asjhdjsghfjs!! i adored remi and thought about having yoongi and holly as neighbors for days after reading this lol.

The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

first and last and always oneshot by @floralseokjin

i'm not one for holiday fics/aus usually but there's something about this one that i absolutely adored. it felt very realistic and drew me into the relationship within the first few paragraphs. the angst is so well done and heartfelt, it made me cry lol.

You and Yoongi broke up two months ago. It was mutual, you’re positive, but there’s one teeny tiny issue... You never told your parents, and now they’ve invited you back home for Christmas. Both of you. You can’t say no, but you also can’t bear to go alone, so you do the only thing you can think of, plead with Yoongi to come with you and pretend like everything’s okay...

go send these authors some love!!

[taehyucng]

why i think uzi doorman is bisexual 🩷💜💙

i made a thread about this on twitter (ivzura) so i will post it on tumblr too

-

before i start, i want to let everyone know that i am bi and as a bisexual, i notice uzi seems bi coded to me. not sure if any other bisexuals notice or think the same, but these are my thoughts and my perspective

-

• bi lighting

bisexual lighting are used where bisexual characters are portrayed under the colors of pink, purple and blue to show they’re bisexual

uzi is in a lot of bi lighting, not only once but many times. i take bi lighting very seriously bc it’s not that the lights are bisexuals themselves but it is to show and portray bi characters (there’s more than these but i can’t add more images)

in the knife fight scene from nuzi, the lights are all colorful and flashy, but the moment they had their personal talk, it stopped to a specific color (pink, purple, and blue). when n throwed uzi, the colors went back to being colorful and flashy

in ep 6, when the sentinels flashed at nuzi, you can see there is pink, purple and blue (i can only add one video so when you go rewatch the scene, you will get what i mean). the colors from the sentinals eyes and flash is like blue/white, and notice that there isn’t any pink and purple when looking around. there’s a ss of a sentinals flashing the light towards the audience

which should’ve been the same when flashing towards nuzi but it didn’t, pink, purple and blue appeared. i could also say n is also under those bi lighting bc bi lighting appeared when they’re together, so he seems bi coded to me as well.

• attraction

now, i know ppl will say “but we don’t see uzi blushing to any women characters” not every bi characters have too. bi characters can be confirmed bi and that’s it, it’s still a rep. bi ppl don’t have to date/blush ppl of every single gender to be bi and this happens to canonical bi characters too (luz, marceline, sasha) about how it’s not enough for ppl. it’s always bi characters having to “prove” or not “bi enough” for ppl to accept them as bisexual. mind you, hunter from the owl house is confirmed bi and we don’t see him blushing or dating any guys, however, have a bi patch on his jacket and bi colors from dana’s art. sasha from amphibia only have a bi sticker and is confirmed bi. this can happen the same with uzi (and n) by the lighting and uzi seems to have men/masculine preference. “i don’t feel any sapphic vibes from her” is being bi not sapphic to you? even if bisexuals date the opposite gender, it does not take away being wlw/nblw. bisexuals are still sapphic no matter who we date bc sexuality is about attraction and not dating history. i really need ppl to get rid of that biphobic mindset that bisexual ppl (including characters in media) needs to “prove” themselves that they are bi. most of you don’t even understand bisexuality at all.

-

we only have 6 episodes and s1 is still not over so don’t expect this to be long. anyway, uzi is bi with men/masculine preference and n is also bi, so nuzi is bi4bi (we need more bi4bi in media). i don’t want ppl to use uzi as a robot as an excuse to be biphobic. “uzi is binary code, her love interest in male, etc.” this is a series called murder drones, all drones have personality, have thoughts, feelings, families, etc. uzi grew WINGS and TAIL, so why can’t she be bi? and n is her love interest but it doesn’t mean she can’t be bisexual. again, bisexuals don’t have to prove to date the same gender to be bi. what’s funny is ppl think she can’t be bi and yet, assume she’s straight (when she has no confirmed sexuality) bc ppl see straight as a default.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Why?

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

When you're hurt and it's not a product of a hunt you intend to hide away and lick your wounds in private but a certain Mikaelson begins to worry and comes to your rescue.

The first knock at your door you disregarded. Surely it was your neighbor or maybe someone with a wrong address. You rented a small place just outside of the french quarter after all so people having a few too many and reading addresses wrong was a usual occurrence.

You were sore over every inch of your body. You were fairly sure nothing was broken but that knowledge didn't stop the pain that every slight movement caused. More than the pain was the embarrassment that this injury had come at the hands of humans. How could you have slipped up that bad?

You'd nearly fallen back asleep when your phone started to ring. You groaned from the effort of pushing yourself up to a sitting position and reached for it.  The moment you saw the caller id you cursed. It was Elijah. You'd avoided him for the better part of the last week but one of his siblings must have caught wind that you'd made it back in town. You didn't want him to see you hurt. You'd tried to always have your feet under you around the ancient vampire. 

He knocked you off balance so you covered it expertly with vague threats and sass. You weren't up to the usual repertoire between the two of you.

You took a deep breath and hoped it wouldn't show in your voice how exhausted you truly were “Elijah Mikaelson, to what do I owe the privilege?” “My darling little hunter. I heard from my sister that you've been in town for nearly a week. Are you avoiding me by chance?” You shifted in the bed and a groan escaped your lips. You closed your eyes praying he hadn't heard. “Not avoiding you. Just been busy”

He was silent for a moment and the thought hit you that maybe he'd hung up until he spoke “Care to answer the door then?” shit, he was the person at your door. “I'll come by later. Just make sure Klaus knows so it's not an announced thing”  “Come to the door” you could feel the pull in his voice and tsk-tsked “Now now Elijah. You promised a long time ago to not try to compel me. Besides I've got enough wards tattooed on me it's next to impossible even for a vampire of your age” 

“Please come to the door” he tried again and you could tell how much it took for him to add the please. “Ok” you hung up the phone and glanced around the room. Your oversized hoodie looked like the best option so you tugged it on over the sports bra and shorts you were currently wearing. It hit mid thigh and with the hood up covered most of your bruises along with the black eye and how swollen the left side of your face was. 

You slowly walked across the small space to your front door and unlocked all three locks before swinging the door open to reveal the vampire standing at your door. Elijah was always impeccably dressed, today he was wearing a black tailored suit which fit him in a way that would've practically made your mouth water any other day.  He had some stubble gracing his chiseled jaw which just added to how handsome he truly was. 

A slight smirk started to slip across his face when he looked in your door but it quickly fell when his eyes met yours.  “Invite me in” Elijah had come to your place a few times but you'd never extended an invite. It caused too much of a risk. You were welcome in the home he shared with his siblings despite you being a hunter and them originals. 

You shook your head slowly but that made the room tilt and you were forced to grab the door frame for support. “Invite me in” he repeated. You managed a weak laugh “You gonna finish me off Mikaelson?” His eyes narrowed so you decided screw it if he threw the niceties to the side and did snap your neck at least you wouldn't be hurting anymore “Come into my home Elijah” 

The moment he crossed the threshold he pushed your hood down and you saw the monster that always lurked just below the surface darken his eyes “Did this occur on a hunt?” You dropped your eyes “Yeah” you felt him move before his fingers ever so gently graced your chin, pulling your face up where you had no choice but to look him in the eye “I'm going to ask once more and make my question more direct. Who or what did this to you?”

You swallowed hard under his gaze. You didn't want to tell him. It was a couple dozen dirty cops. They wanted to use hunters as guns for hire. Technically most hunters had faked their deaths already so who better to pull off kills then the dead? “A few people who wanted me to work for them and I refused”

“Humans did this? My dear I've seen you fight” you nodded slightly, a grimace gracing your face due to the movement causing another wave of dizziness “They caught me by surprise and a taser is very much a field evener for us mere humans” 

It occurred to you that he was still holding your face so you tried to move away from him but you swayed slightly and before you could protect he was picking you up bridal style. “You need to see a doctor” “No insurance” you mumbled, trying to fight the urge to lay your head against his chest as he carried you over to your bed, pulling the blanket back to lay you down. 

He sat down gently on the side of the bed and motioned to the hoodie “May I?” You nodded and felt him pull the soft material up your body. His touch made goosebumps rise across your flesh and you hoped he'd mistake the way your heart started to beat faster for pain. “I'll bring one to you. Need to ensure you don't have any internal damage then you're going to tell me who exactly was involved” 

“Why do you care, Elijah?” You asked and he simply smiled before pulling the hoodie back down “Perhaps I've allowed myself to become fond of the fact that you're not afraid of me. Quite the opposite you don't mind reminding me just how many of my kind you've killed. You're a hunter, I've made peace with that but this? This isn't your job, this was an attack that deserves an answer and I will gladly deliver one” 

You nodded slowly then asked “Are you gonna pay a doctor or compel one?” He shrugged “Whichever works better” you motioned to where your jacket laid “Keys are in the right hand pocket. Lock the door when you leave then let yourself back in” “I'll be back soon” He promised and you knew he would. He would come back with a doctor and if you asked he'd slaughter anyone who'd ever hurt you, the question was why? 

Closer

[wanderer-six]

In Need

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

AN:  hey im so sorry i was possessed by a Dark Entity and therefore cannot be held liable for the Sin beneath the cut (reader be advised this was written under DEMONIC INFLUENCE, god is NOT present in this text!!!!!!!!!) i genuinely do not know what happened but I hope u all enjoy nonetheless GHSDJF ♥ (also HUGE THANK U TO @starrylothcat for being exposed to this early, u are a hero and a star!!!!)

Relationships: Hunter x Fem Jedi!Reader

Summary: While travelling with the Bad Batch, you find yourself overwhelmed by a certain need. Unable to deal with it, you try to wait it out in hopes it will pass. But you come to find that your arousal has been unintentionally torturing your poor sergeant.

Warnings: scent kink(?)(Hunter Advanced Senses fuckery); oral (f! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected PiV sex; praise kinda; overstimulation; choking; outdoor sex; y/n and hunter are both Extremely thirsty, minimal plot mostly smut

Word Count: 4k

You don’t know how you’ll survive another night.

The Havoc Marauder had come to rest in the pleasant evening air of some forest world after a long day of battle. Rarely do you and the boys get to enjoy such a beautiful night during this war; you sit in the ship’s cockpit, the gangplank open to allow the cool air into the vessel, and you chat about whatever comes to mind. As usual, Wrecker and Tech are the most talkative, and you’re happy to listen.

Although, admittedly, you don’t listen as closely as you normally would. As has been the case for a few days now, you find yourself… distracted. Years of training at the Jedi Temple have pushed you to overcome your baser instincts, and though such a feat never came easily, you’ve managed for so long. But every now and then, it would become too much to bear.

Try as you might to ignore it, to focus instead on the bright smiles and warm laughter of your friends, your mind fixes solely on the burning heat between your thighs.

When Wrecker smacks the back of your chair hard, you’re ripped from your thoughts and back to reality. Something has gotten your traveling companions in a fit of amusement—though what, you haven’t a clue.

“What do you think, General?” Wrecker’s gruff voice booms. “I say Tech’s got his goggles on too tight if he thinks I can’t wrestle a rancor!”

“I did not say you would be unable to,” Tech quickly interjects. “I merely noted that the odds of us encountering a situation that would require wrestling a rancor are slim, to put it generously.”

A wide grin spreads on your lips, and you pray they can’t see the heat beneath your face.

“If the Republic isn’t assigning us missions where wrestling rancors is a requirement, I’m not sure why we’re even fighting this war,” you tease, eliciting a roar of laughter from Wrecker.

“You got that right!” he chimes.

From across the cockpit, Echo scoffs.

“You’d better hope the Seppies don’t add rancors to their ranks,” he mutters. “The droids are already bad enough…”

“If Wrecker thinks he can handle it, why not?” Crosshair smirks.

As the men begin to chatter, you find your thoughts turning inward once more—or downward, more specifically. This tension has been building within you for days now, and no amount of meditating or distraction has offered reprieve. Your body aches, begging to be touched, and all you can do is wait. Sharing a cramped ship with five men has never been your ideal living condition, but you could tolerate it. When you felt like this though—when you neared the brink of insanity from how desperately you craved something to fill you—life on the Havoc Marauder turned from tolerable to torturous.

Again, the men erupt in laughter over some remark you missed entirely. Awkwardly, you cross your legs, the friction from your movement causing your body to tense up. A shaky sigh passes your lips. Maybe tonight, you could find the courage to do something. With the state you’re in, you haven’t been getting much sleep, anyhow. Perhaps in the dark of night, while everyone else got their rest, you could have your release…

Abruptly, the movement of one of your men catches your eye. It’s Hunter—he shoots to his feet, startling you out of your thoughts. He had been so quiet all night that you’ve nearly forgotten his presence—not helped by the way he seemed to brood in the darker corners of the ship. He treads wordlessly through the ship, suiting up with a few scant pieces of gear over his blacks.

“Something wrong, Hunter?” Echo asks.

Hunter can’t even meet his brother’s eyes, shaking his head with a stern frown.

“Just need to clear my head,” he mutters. He passes through the cockpit, not dignifying any of you with his gaze he heads to the gangplank. “I’ll be back.”

With that, he descends into the night, leaving the rest of you utterly perplexed.

The conversation takes a moment to start again, leaving Wrecker to break the odd silence.

“...what’s with him?” he asks, earning a collective shrug from the room.

“I don’t know,” Echo mutters, “but he seems… testy, these past few rotations.”

Tech tilts his head, already back to his datapad. “This is not entirely unusual. Hunter’s heightened senses often lead him to seek isolation. I’d say the only one of us worse is Crosshair.”

The sniper in question growls, plucking the toothpick he holds in his mouth to flick at his brother.

Standing to your feet and ignoring your aching core, you smile.

“I can go check on him,” you offer. “I think I could use the fresh air, anyway. But don’t stop having fun on our account, okay?”

You flash Wrecker a smile as you head to the door, and he obliges you with a laugh.

“We won’t! Trust me!”

With a final wave goodbye, you head out into the night. The chill in the deep forest does wonders to calm you, though the heat nagging in your stomach does not entirely abate. Gently, you reach out into the Force, finding Hunter’s signature with ease. You meander along the trail he left, taking your time in hopes of giving him whatever space he seeks. You have no interest in troubling him; just ensuring that he doesn’t have something else on his mind that he’s reluctant to reveal.

Though maybe you’re just projecting, you think bitterly to yourself.

You emerge into a beautiful clearing, more picturesque than any holo you’d ever seen in the Temple. A lake expands over the horizon, waves rippling and glittering in the light of the moons above. From the treeline to the lakebed, a myriad of wildflowers dance on the breeze.

It all looks so perfect, leading a very sour Hunter to stand out more than you ever thought possible.

Your sergeant leans against a tree trunk, body tense as he spins his vibroblade around and around in his hand. When you approach him, he stiffens, despite his best efforts to appear casual.

“Hey,” you smile, voice soft to match the quiet of the night. “I thought you might want some company.”

Hunter manages a half smirk, tilting his head to acknowledge you wordlessly. With every step closer to him, you feel his heart rate spike in the Force. What is going on with him?

“I just figured I should check in on you. You seem really tense these past few days…” you note. 

Only when you look up at him, finding him awkwardly avoiding your gaze, do you realize you’d come to a stop far closer to him than you intended to. The nearness you share does little to quell the heat throbbing inside of you, but you stifle it down as best you can.

Hunter struggles for a moment, lips parting and closing as he searches for what to say. After a long silence, he sighs, meeting your gaze at last.

“It, er… it’s you,” he confesses.

Worried, you tilt your head.

“What about me?” you ask. “Did I do something?”

Your ignorance of the matter seems to work Hunter up even further. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, awkwardly tapping the armor on his thigh to shake off his nerves. You can’t say you’ve ever seen him so out of his element.

“I… know what you’ve been going through these past few days,” he explains. He gestures awkwardly up and down your body. “I can sense it. It’s, well…” He huffs. “...distracting.”

You think for a moment, still unsure of what he means. But something in the way his eyes find yours conveys exactly what he’s trying to say.

He knows about the way you’ve been feeling lately. He knows…

Immediately, your face burns. Your eyes fall to the ground, and shame rises in your throat. You think about just how many hours you’ve spent these past few days, thinking the filthiest thoughts and riling yourself up without any hope of reprieve—and knowing now that Hunter could sense every second of it…

“...oh,” you breathe, quiet as a mouse droid.

You meekly catch Hunter’s gaze one more time, but the grimace he wears drives your eyes away immediately. Stars, you just want to run and hide… How could you have been so stupid? Hunter can sense a disturbance entire klicks away; you really thought he couldn’t smell your desperation?

A million thoughts race through your mind—a million different ways to apologize. Should you apologize? What if that just makes the situation even more awkward? Maybe you should forget you ever asked, but you don’t want him to think you don’t care about his feelings…

Before you can fully spiral into hypotheticals, you hear a sharp sigh from Hunter’s lips. Your eyes land on him again. His eyes are shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Do you… need… help?”

If your heart had been racing before, it’s jumped to lightspeed now. 

“...what?” you ask.

“Look,” Hunter grunts, “until you’re… taken care of… I won’t be able to focus. I’ve barely gotten any sleep these past nights; it’s… overwhelming.”

He tucks away his vibroblade, the hilt snapping against the sheathe with a satisfying click. When he takes a step closer, now looming over you, the need deep within you flares like a star. Judging by the way his body tenses—how his hands ball into tight fists—you know he can tell. 

He raises a shaky hand, setting it on your cheek. His touch burns on your skin. You want nothing more than for him to ignite you.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” he growls.

His gaze has you paralyzed. You fear to even breathe, worrying that the wrong move might shatter this illusion and leave you embarrassed and alone. But you know he would never do such a thing. You trust Hunter with your life… how could you not trust him with this?

Besides—judging by the way he stares at you, hunger in his piercing eyes, you suspect he has a need all of his own.

You nod, and before you can breathe, his lips are on yours.

Hunter’s rough hands explore your body, not at all timid in their desires. They tug at your shirt as his tongue presses against your lips, and you readily grant both of his wishes. His tongue toys with yours while his hands grope at your chest, drawing a pathetic whimper from your lips. So little of his attention already has your head reeling, drowning in delight. The need in your core overwhelms you now, and it seems to spur him on, all the same.

Abruptly, Hunter spins you around, pressing your back against the firm tree trunk. He deftly strips you of your top, tossing it into the dirt. You didn’t care—couldn’t care. You were far more concerned with working his thigh between your legs, desperate for something to relieve the agonizing tension there. Hunter comes to your aid, pressing his thigh against you before he moves his lips to your chest.

Whining his name, you grind your hips against his leg, over and over with no will to stop yourself. When Hunter’s teeth clasp onto your nipple, you gasp, biting your lip to cope with the sensation. He’s quick to release you, though, instead sucking you into his mouth as his hand gropes the other side of your chest.

When he’s had his fill, he pulls away, treating you to another hungry kiss—one that soon parts from your lips and trails down your frame. You stare in awe as he kisses along your sternum, your stomach, before reaching the waistband of your pants and settling onto his knees. With little regard, he tugs your pants down. You help by hurriedly kicking them off, unwilling to waste a moment when the release you crave is so near.

Standing above Hunter in nothing but your panties leaves you vulnerable in a way you’ve never known. But that vulnerability only worsens the throbbing tension inside you. Your body begs you to give in to him, and the overwhelming pleasure mounting in your stomach has you in no mood to disobey.

Hunter’s piercing gaze hangs on you for a moment, before moving to your still-clothed cunt. Your face burns; by now, your panties are completely soaked through, and you have no doubt he can tell. He wraps his hands around your thighs, gently prying them open. When he presses his face between your legs, his mouth and nose just barely putting pressure against your sex, you nearly pass out.

“H-Hunter…” you whimper.

Wordlessly, he breathes you in. Overwhelmed by your desperation, his eyes flutter shut, a ragged exhale crossing his lips.

“Fuck… you’re driving me crazy,” he growls.

Roughly, he hikes one of your thighs onto his shoulder. Before you can even hope to react, he pushes your drenched panties aside and presses himself against your cunt.

Shockwaves rout your entire body, pulsing from your core to your every extremity. Your hands find Hunter’s hair, tugging at his dark locks. He doesn’t mind—that is, if he notices at all. He attends to your aching cunt with unmatched discipline, drinking from you as though you were water after a thousand parched days beneath the Tatooine suns. His lips close around your clit, suckling at it, all the while swirling over it with his tongue.

He laps at you so hungrily that you can barely utter a sound, your whole body tense with the way he works you. Your every mewl catches in your throat, strangled into a breathless whimper. Still, you need more of him, tugging at his scalp and rutting your hips into his face.

“Hunter…!” you gasp. When he groans against you, the vibration sends a shiver up your spine. “Please… I-I need more… please, Hunter…!”

Hunter’s eyes flash up to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, focused fully on you. Reluctantly, he pries his lips off of you, though not without a parting mark on the soft flesh of your thigh. He wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand before standing up once more. At his full height now, you quickly recall just how imposing his stature is—and just how badly you wish to experience it.

Supporting your neck with his gloved hand, he leans over you, kissing you deeply. You love the taste of yourself on his lips, tongue toying with his in need of more. When he pulls away, he lingers by your ear.

“Turn around,” he demands.

You swallow hard, nodding and obeying. Once you face away from him, he places his palm between your shoulder blades, pressing your top half against the tree while your hips remain close to him. Carelessly, he slips your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to the cold night air. A low rumble reverberates in his chest as he looks you over; you can practically feel the burn of his eyes on your skin, trailing over every inch of your needy body as you present yourself to him.

He grasps your hip firmly, and with his free hand trails his fingers along your cunt. You gasp, body reacting fiercely to even so light a touch.

“Kriff… you’re so wet,” he remarks, his low voice doing little to help matters. “Have you been like this all week?”

You nod, desperation written on your features.

“Mm-hm,” you murmur. “Please, Hunter… I-I need you.”

He smacks your ass, earning a startled moan from you. Taking a step back, he quickly shuffles off his gear and his blacks, with you watching him over your shoulder all the while. When his cock is finally free of his pants, you nearly drool. He’s already so achingly hard… your cunt clenches around nothing, hopeless at the need to be filled by him.

When he spots you staring, an awful smirk forms on his lips. He closes the distance between you, leaning over you and pressing his chest to your back. You arch against him, hips grinding against his with overwhelming need. Stopping briefly to mark your neck, Hunter’s lips settle at your ear.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he growls.

You mewl, utterly and hopelessly his. “Please…”

With one last kiss on your shoulder, Hunter lines himself up with your slick entrance. When he pushes into your aching cunt, your eyes light with stars.

His hips persist, splitting you open until he’s buried to the hilt. His hard cock twitches inside of you, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. When you flex around him, he hisses through his teeth.

“Fuck, your little cunt is so tight,” he rasps. “I don’t think you’re ever gonna let go of me…”

Hunter’s thick cock overfills and overwhelms you, straining your walls to their limit as he thrusts deeper into you. His hands keep your hips in a vice grip, not allowing you to challenge his excruciatingly slow pace. He bottoms out inside of you, then pulls out, dragging himself along your walls. When he’s finally free of you, he repeats the process, sheathing himself again. Your wetness engulfs his every thrust, with more than enough to spill down your thighs as he tortures you.

“Hunter!” you beg, voice wavering as he strikes deep inside you again. “Please, go faster…!”

Breathless, Hunter chuckles.

“What, you want more?” he purrs through a smirk. He smacks your ass again, and you cry out. “You want me to fill up this needy little cunt?”

Before you can answer, his hips collide with yours, reducing your words to a moan.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yes! F-Fill me up,” you beg. “Fuck… I’m gonna lose my mind…!”

“Heh… now you know how I feel,” he mutters. As he picks up his pace, he groans, biting into the tender flesh on your shoulder. “Ah, kriff… I just might lose my mind, anyway.”

Hunter pounds into you, sending you spiraling with every relentless thrust. Though you had begged for him to take you harder, faster, you feel thoroughly unprepared for the way he fucks you. With how close you’ve grown to him, you find it easy to forget sometimes that he isn’t just a man. He’s a soldier—a supersoldier—and you’ve never been more aware of that than right now.

Hunter leans in close to your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“You’re being a bad girl,” he growls. “A Jedi getting fucked by a clone? What would the Council say?”

To your utmost surprise, your face burns like a starship engine. You bite back a whimper, though the way you squeeze around Hunter’s cock does not go unnoticed. Through shaky breaths, he chuckles.

“You like that?” he asks, half inquiring and half observing.

Biting your lip, you nod. “Mm-hm…”

He interrupts his pace with a pointedly rough thrust, forcing a mewl from your lips. One of his hands moves from your hips to your throat, pulling you into him and trapping your back against his chest. You feel so defenseless, so exposed… you can’t say which has your head lighter: the way his fingers put the faintest pressure on your neck, or the shame of your actions. You suppose it doesn’t matter which—both are merely driving you higher and higher.

“Maybe we should call them,” Hunter continues, “let them watch their perfect little Knight getting fucked like a whore on Daiyu.”

Your eyes shoot wide. If he merely hopes to rile you up with such a statement, he succeeds.

“N-No!” you utter, emphatically shaking your head. You hear Hunter’s breathy laughter behind you before he picks up his already breakneck pace, his body smacking against yours so forcefully that the skin on your thighs and ass begins to sting.

“I think you’re right,” he grunts, his labored breath tickling your ear. “I think I’ll keep you all to myself.”

At that moment, you want nothing more. Your eyes are rolling back in your head, mouth agape as the tension mounts inside of you.

“You belong to me,” he growls. “You belong to this cock.”

You can barely form a lucid thought, so very close to reaching euphoria.

“Yes!” you whine. “Yes, Hunter!”

As he forces you over your peak, your vision goes white. Your orgasm thrashes through your body, tearing a moan from your lips. Your cunt shudders around his cock, overflowing with wetness and burning up inside. He reaches deeper inside of you than he ever could before, striking your sweet spot again and again, drawing your ecstasy out to a maddening duration.

“Fuck,” Hunter groans. “Fuck me, you’re so fucking tight!”

Try as you might to call his name, you can only babble, rendered absolutely cock-dumb by the man fucking you. By now, your entire body is covered in a slick of sweat and flush with heat. You struggle to stand, quivering legs barely able to hold your weight. From the way his body trembles around you, Hunter isn’t faring much better. But evidently, he still hasn’t had his fill of you.

Hunter doesn’t let up, thrusting fervently into your abused, throbbing cunt. Your eyes begin to well with tears, head swimming with arousal far too much to bear. Your head lolls back, cheek pressing against Hunter’s. Despite the way he fucks you within an inch of your life, his hand moves from your neck to your face, gently cradling you as he dots a kiss on your lips.

“Think you’ve got one more in you?” he rasps, pressing a lazy kiss on your ear.

Though you hesitate, you eventually answer with a weary nod. With a loud moan, Hunter sinks his fingers into your hip so hard you fear your skin might bruise. The hand he holds on your face slips down between your legs, drawing tight circles around your swollen clit.

“Come on my cock, beautiful,” he breathes. “Come on my cock one more time, and I’ll fill this pretty pussy up with cum.”

Though you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, his words push you over the edge. With the only pathetic whimper your hoarse throat can manage, you come once more, cunt spasming around Hunter’s length.

Thankfully, Hunter isn’t far behind you this time. Just as he promised, when you finish around him, he spills his hot cum inside of you, filling you so much that it quickly begins to seep from between your legs. He keeps his length inside of you, managing one or two more thrusts before he begins to soften.

The only sounds you hear now are the two of you gasping for air and the gentle lap of the lake against the shore. As all your adrenaline subsides, your legs threaten to give out underneath you. But before you can topple over, Hunter catches you, holding you around your waist.

“Easy there,” he warns, a chuckle buried in his words. You look up at him, finding a flustered smile on his lips—every sign of that dirty-talking casanova gone from his eyes. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he asks, “Are you… feeling better?”

You narrow your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you really asking me that?” you smirk. Though it’s hard to see through his tanned skin, you swear Hunter’s cheeks darken. “Yes. I’m feeling much better… thanks to you.”

Hunter grins, resting his forehead gently against yours.

“Yeah… I’m feeling better, too,” he sighs. “Sorry for being short with you before.”

“Sorry for driving you up a wall all week,” you giggle.

Hunter smirks. Gently, he lifts you up in his embrace, tucking one arm under your legs and the other under your back. When you meet his eyes, he tilts his head towards the beautiful lake illuminated in the moonlight.

“Why don’t we wash up?” he suggests. 

With a heavy sigh of contentment, you nod. “That sounds wonderful.”

As Hunter carries you to the water, you smile softly, closing your eyes and resting your head on his chest.

“By the way… I think we need to have a discussion about your language, Sergeant,” you tease him.

He chuckles, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve been reprimanded for worse,” he shrugs.

AN: im 3/3 hunter smut i dont think i should ever write a normal fic for him at this point. Anyway i hope u liked and/or it sated your demonic possession as well!!! ✨✨ (also im literally not doing my usual 'taglist' for this one cuz im so GD embarrassed sHGHGHS)

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,405

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

What were you doing?

If someone could help you navigate your emotions, you’d accept the help immediately. Unfortunately, they were either busy fawning over Neteyam or doing their daily life’s work.

You found yourself attracted to Neteyam in a way that you’d never felt before. Your brain offered the possibility of manipulation, but Neteyam wasn’t that kind of person.

Was he?

Before, you couldn’t stand being near him. Not even for a minute. Now, you couldn’t stand the thought of being far from him.

It was like your brain did a sudden 180 and you had no idea how to process your new feelings.

When you were near him, all you could do was eye his lips. You seemed to be sensitive to his rough, calloused hands that brushed against your soft skin occasionally.

At times, when you were alone, you could smell his musky masculine scent that only belonged to him. It danced on the breeze, teasing your senses, whispering of what you were beginning to want but couldn’t allow yourself to have.

It wasn’t until you got drunk at a feast that things progressed rather suddenly.

Neteyam’s arms wrapped protectively around you as he guided you back to your family’s alcove, your feet dragging through the lush soft greenery all around you. You swayed around in his grasp, stumbling so many times that you couldn’t help but wonder how he was keeping you upright.

“Y’know, I used ta hate yer guts,” you slurred as he guided you in and towards your sleeping mat.

“I know,” he responded dismissively, tucking you into the bed. Your hand slipped into his, your grip keeping him from leaving you just yet.

“I don’ hate you no more.”

His hairless eyebrows arched at that statement and you patted the mat beside you, letting him know you wanted him to sit with you. He did just that, sitting down while waiting for you to explain exactly what you meant.

“I can’t stop lookin’ at you. Everythin’ is about you. I smell you everywhere. I feel you everywhere too. I can’t go nowhere without you bein’ there.”

He was starting to grow confused now, brows scrunched together to make him look even cuter than he had looked before.

“Come here,” you instruct, pulling him down so that he was mere inches from your own. Your finger touched his lips, sliding down slowly to feel the plumpness of the soft skin beneath the pad of your thumb.

“You broke my heart. So why do I… want to kiss you so much?”

You were drunk. Heavily drunk. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Is that so?” he whispered as he leaned in a bit more, breath brushing softly against your own lips.

“You want to kiss me? Well then, Y/n. Kiss me. I’m right here.”

You didn’t need any more prompting than that. Your fingers entangled in his hair, closing the distance as you press your lips against his. Lips parted and pressed against his own, you feel his tongue poke into your mouth, brushing lightly over your teeth before fighting for dominance with your own tongue.

Despite the passionate heat of the kiss, you do nothing more than that, as it satisfied your craving for his lips. The only downside to this moment of pure bliss was that your craving would come back with a vengeance.

When you woke with a thudding pain in your skull in the morning, you found yourself curled in his grasp, your head resting against his chest. You took a moment to just feel the steady rise and fall of his chest cavity, still half asleep and a little confused about who’s lap you were in.

After a couple minutes of confusion, you finally gather the courage to look up at the owner of the lap and you squeak, jumping out of his lap. Your sudden movements startle him out of his sleep and he tilted his head to watch you with a silent curiosity.

“Please tell me we didn’t do anything,” you pleaded with him, watching as his tongue poked out to swipe over his thin lips.

“Well… we didn’t do too much, if that’s what you mean.”

You groan, hands falling to rest on your hips, gaze burning into his surprisingly calm eyes.

“You know that’s not what I meant. What happened last night?”

He stood up slowly, stretching out his body, and you can’t help but find yourself entranced in the stretch of his ribs and chest, arms straight out in the air.

When he straightened, he smiled a lopsided grin at you, pushing some of the beaded braids behind his ear.

“You confessed your feelings to me. How you really wanted to kiss me and how obsessed you currently are with me. I just went along with it. I told you to kiss me if you wanted to and you definitely wanted to. That’s about it, though. We didn’t do anything else other than kiss. Now, some good breakfast will help you look a little less like you’ve just seen Eywa herself.”

You ignore him, hand to your forehead as you paced, mumbling to himself.

“I-I didn’t mean it! I was drunk and you know it!”

Neteyam can’t help but smirk at your feeble attempt to explain what had taken course the night before. He moved to touch your wrist but you shied from his touch. That’s when he sighed. An impatient, exasperated sigh that only belonged to a parent with a difficult child.

“Look. I really don’t mind it, Y/n. I kind of enjoyed it, actually.”

“Of course you would,” you snap back before you could stop it and a look of hurt flashed across his face for just a split second.

“Neteyam, I-”

“I have to go. I have a lot of things to do today. I hope you get some food. Take care of yourself, alright?”

He left before you could get another word in and you felt the sinking of your guilt deep in the pit of your stomach, your own words coming back to slap you in the face.

You shouldn’t have been so harsh with him. It wasn’t right of you to behave like that. He was only trying to help, after all.

Straightening your clothing and fixing your hair, you try to hold your head high, but it was no use with the shame of what you’d just done weighing heavy on your shoulders.

»»——⍟——««

He was avoiding you, leaving you feeling that guilt and shame wherever you went. You didn't know how to approach him, especially when he seemed to always disappear as you are coming to apologize.

This was what you wanted, right? For him to leave you alone so that you could live your life without heartbreak.

Right?

Something wasn’t settling in your heart and, as you focused on what it could possibly, you realized that in trying to avoid more pain in the deepest cavities of your chest where your fickle little organ was, you’d broken your own heart.

Oh, the irony of this whole situation.

You were no quitter, though. He hadn’t deserved your backlash and, as you sat and thought about everything that had happened since he’d come back home, you’d applied your knowledge to the situation at hand.

He had been trying his best to show you that you didn’t have to be afraid that he’d do what he’d done in the past. He’d changed and he was desperately trying to get that through your guarded mind in the best ways he could.

You had to apologize.

Working hard and planning carefully, you came up with a way to jump him so that he couldn’t avoid you anymore. You were going to show him that you’d changed too. You’d changed so much more since he’d come back to you and you needed him to see it too.

You weren’t perfect. Not by a long shot. Emotions were hard to understand and, since you’d pushed them aside for so long, you didn’t know the slightest thing about how to interpret your own.

You just hoped that he’d understand that too. You had to make him understand that you were like one of those earth flowers. The rose. You had so many thorns and each one hurt more than the last. You needed someone to smooth out the sharp points of your heart and mind. And he was the person you needed.

Taglist // @earthling55 / @cardi-bre91 / @bambithewriter