#hunter x reader insert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ddarker-dreams · 2 months

Text

Better The Devil You Know.

Yandere Chrollo x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, discussions of past minor character death, and descriptions of anxiety. Word count: 2.6k.

You awake to cold sheets and damp cheeks.

It isn’t a peaceful transition into consciousness. You fight for each breath, a losing battle that swaddles your mind in thick fog. The vapors thin out as time drags along. It doesn’t dissipate in its entirety, preferring to linger and prolong your disorientation.

You wipe at your face with your wrists, ignoring the sting accompanying the action. Hesitatingly, you appraise it in a ray of moonlight that snuck past the blinds. It’s clear, not crimson and thick. A normal product of a healthy body. You should feel relieved, you think. Every organ is as it should be. Your brain remains in your cranium, your lungs expand and contract, and your heart pumps, albeit at an alarming speed.

It’s better than the chill of encroaching death.

…

You are alive, aren’t you?

This question prompts an investigation.

Nothing hurts. Your throat, maybe, but that’s a minor ache spurred from thirst. Your skin is warm and clammy. Peeling the comforter off, you squint, assessing your body’s condition. Weary eyes take in everything. Your socks, the lace trimming of your nightgown, its diaphanous midriff, then your chest. Everything appears in order.

Would your incorporeal form accurately reflect your physical body?

You shake your head.

This can’t be heaven — no pantheon would be cruel enough to set the stage of your paradise with props from your captivity.

It can’t be hell either. If it were, you wouldn’t be alone right now.

You blink.

You’re alone?

Chrollo’s side of the bed is notably empty. He must’ve got up in a hurry, the sheets are in disarray. The adjoining restroom is dark and unoccupied, confirming he must be elsewhere. Your stomach churns. Determined to do away with this creeping anxiety, you get up, padding across the hardwood floor.

The night gifts shivers and goosebumps. Wishing to ward off its unwanted advances, you wrap your arms around yourself. You pass through the door that connects to the common area. Although it’s dimly lit, you can tell he isn’t here. The attached balcony is similarly uninhabited. A quick foray into the study confirms your status; you’re truly by yourself.

What should be a triumph or a relief delivers nothing but dread.

You return to the common room to assess the situation.

You’ve never been left alone before. Not without him telling you in advance, normally with a rough estimate of when he’ll return. There’s no way an important detail like that would slip your mind. At a loss, you dredge through your memories for some sign you may have missed. His voice pierces through your head like an arrow. You wince but ignore your body’s displeasure at anything associated with him. The unintelligible noises sharpen, forming consonants and vowels.

The thrum of the air conditioner eases away.

You’re left in absolute silence, until Chrollo’s voice fades away, replaced by another.

“... She was five or six, I think. Right around the age where you start losing baby teeth. There’d been this game she wanted and, y’know, kids aren’t rolling in cash. So she figured, what better way to pay for it than through the tooth fairy? I caught ‘er with my wrench, determined as anything, ready to speed up the process. It ended up being a little inside joke between us.”

Your lower lip trembles.

“... That’s how she ended up getting identified. Her teeth, I mean. Wasn’t anything else left to go off of. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. A whole life she lived, sometimes getting into trouble, but mostly helping others outta theirs. And to have that— all that— reduced to just… just a couple, couple fuckin’— teeth? What kinda joke is that?”

You fill a glass with water until it overflows.

“Hey, tell me. Has that fucker ever mentioned ‘er? … Probably not, right? Probably never knew she existed in the first place.”

Head thrown back, you gulp down the liquid, fighting the lump that longs to form in your throat.

“Who knows? Maybe I’m the one in the wrong ‘ere. Hell, you don’t look much older than her yourself. I don’t— don’t wanna hurt ya. But…”

Tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“There’s no other way to hurt him.”

Someone’s beside you.

You can hear their voice, though it sounds like it’s coming from miles away, carried over by the wind. Warmth sears your bare shoulders. You smell the faint aroma of sandalwood and amber. It’s distinct, this cologne that serves as an ill-omen better than any blackbird or cracked mirror. You couldn’t scrub it from your memory if you tried. That, or the scent of old books, leather, coffee, and red wine.

You dig your nails into something — fabric, perhaps — but nothing grounds you. It’s like you’ve been transported outside of space and time. Existing, yet far from alive. Your stomach falls while your head floats away. Up, up, up, lifting you higher and higher. From this impossible vantage point, you sway, your limbs gleefully ignoring every attempt to regain control.

And there it is again. Your name echoes throughout the atmosphere, beckoning you to acknowledge the sound’s source.

Maybe you should.

Even if you’ll come to regret it.

When you first met Chrollo, his eyes stood out the most, like the universe itself deemed them worthy of veneration. You found the gray depths captivating. The undertone varied, you never could ascertain if they were a cool or warm shade. All you knew was that once they found you, they boasted a vitality siphoned at the expense of your own.

Presently, they can’t. Their unwitting host has been exsanguinated.

“Where were—” You silence yourself, aghast by the implication.

You’d sought him out. So desperate for an anchor, you would’ve latched onto the culprit behind your drowning. There’s no doubt he’d find some twisted satisfaction in the accidental admission. You shrink away, but the solid counter presses against your spine, halting your retreat. He doesn’t advance, you’d barely created any distance.

“There’d been something that required my immediate attention,” Chrollo answers your unfinished question. There’s no thinly veiled derision or curiosity in his voice. You miss the familiarity. “Does anything hurt?”

It’s then that you recall your predicament.

You’re on the kitchen floor, surrounded by scintillating shards of glass. A pool of water gathers to your right. Chrollo’s bent down before you, wearing a heavy coat and a tint of pink on his nose. He must’ve come from outside. He stares unblinkingly, awaiting your verdict, which you deliver by shaking your head. There’s a dull ache in your tailbone but you keep that to yourself. It’s awkward enough that he found you in this state.

You’re sitting on the floor with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee, allowing your short nightgown to ride up. The compromising position stokes your embarrassment. You shuffle around to maintain some dignity. In doing so, you forget the pointed glass strewn about. Before you make contact, you’re hoisted up. Chrollo foresees your struggle and holds you tight enough to thwart its success.

“You’re alright,” he reassures, his sincere gentleness unbecoming. "Everything's alright."

He places you down on the closest couch and sits beside you. While you regain your bearings, he shrugs off his jacket, then drapes it around your trembling form. His scent and warmth flood your senses. You consider throwing it off out of spite, only to decide against it. You’d be the one to suffer the most. Chrollo remains unusually silent as you cocoon yourself in the thick wool jacket. It’s big on you, but not big enough to swallow you whole like you’d prefer.

“Should I grab your propranolol?”

Another head shake.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Foreseeing your tepid response, he adds, “Verbally?”

You clear your throat as quietly as you can. “I got thirsty.”

“Hm.”

You both know he isn’t convinced. It’d be easy for him to poke and prod until you revealed everything — intentionally or not — but his lips remain in a thin line. You shuffle in your seat. The fabric brushes against your wrists, eliciting a sharp inhale. The burn is short-lived yet the memories associated with it rage on.

“... Chrollo?”

He blinks, likely unused to the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?”

“If that man killed me, would it have hurt you?”

A shadow falls over his visage, like a waxing crescent transitioning to a new moon. When you shiver, it isn’t from the cold. Dark hair frames a far darker expression. His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to see you better, beyond your flesh, at the crux of your soul. You await whatever comes next, returning his stare with equal intensity.

Finally, he slowly replies, “Yes, it would’ve.”

“Then why was it so easy for you to kill his daughter?” You ask, the words weighing heavily upon you. “You might’ve liked her, if you’d gotten to know her.”

The man revealed enough for you to feel like you knew her. Lana Ellis — a woman with an iron will, sharp tongue, and golden heart. She’d recently been hired to work as a waitress at a business that catered high-end events. Galas, celebrity birthdays and weddings, those sorts of things. It wasn’t going to be a permanent arrangement. Lana planned to ditch the gig after saving up tuition money, where she’d then aim for a doctorate in veterinary medicine. According to him, he’d squandered her college fund after the unexpected death of her mother; his childhood sweetheart. He said he’d never forgive himself or the Troupe.

“She wasn’t s’posed to have been there,” he wheezed. “She never should’ve been there…!”

Chrollo shuts his eyes. “What are you getting at, dear?”

His words come out light, though they’re anything but.

“She could’ve been me.”

“Yet she wasn’t.”

“But—!” Your voice cracks, so you take a deep breath and try again. “You… you deprive the world of people you could’ve come to like, be friends with, whatever! All for stuff you eventually do away with. How is that… how can you…”

Righteous anger suits you. It's a sword and shield that requires no skill to wield, reaching for the instruments have become second nature. Their effectiveness doesn't matter so long as you can hold onto something.

“You don’t need to understand.”

This isn't a parry or pivot, he's disarmed you.

“Huh?”

“Yes… if anything, it’s best if you don’t,” he mutters, more to himself than you. His eyes find yours again. “I can’t make sense of your empathy any more than you can grasp my lack of it. If I could, you’d no longer be yourself. Your self-limiting, bleeding heart should remain as is. It’s the one part of you I’ll leave untouched.”

You don’t know what you were expecting.

You slump back into your seat. “... Don’t you think you’re overestimating yourself?”

“Hardly,” he replies. Then, in a softer voice, “You torment yourself, love. This—”

He rests his hand over your heart.

“—Hurts you more than anything I’ve ever done. Yet you believe it unthinkable I’d do away with such an inconvenience.”

“So you’re a coward,” you mumble. The insult is uninspired but it suits your purposes. “You can’t handle it, so you took the easy way out.”

“Rationalize it anyway you'd like.”

Chrollo reaches for your forearm and coaxes it into view. His fingers brush along your wrists, where the man’s restraints left rope burn behind. The irritated skin is slowly recovering. The deeper wounds, those without a cure, will linger after the surface heals. They’re etched into your bones.

“Isn’t going against your morals worse than having none?" Chrollo queries. “That girl’s father knew you had no involvement in his daughter’s death. You’re an unwilling third party, same as she was. And he was ready to hurt you regardless."

Your mouth feels dry. “He didn't hurt me—”

Chrollo raises an eyebrow, causing head to flood your cheeks.

“—All... that... much. I don’t think he was going to...?”

“No, not until he was intoxicated enough to stomach it,” Chrollo retorts. “We’ll never know for certain, darling. Thankfully, I interrupted before it could get to that point."

That point, that point, that point...

What could that man have done to you?

Chrollo appraises you like he's yet to decide on something.

After a moment passes, he leans in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your muscles stiffen as he pulls you close. He exerts none of the force you know him to be capable of. The gesture's languid nature gives the impression you could wriggle free if you tried. You don't test this theory. Chrollo's mood seems pensive, not amorous, hence your hesitant compliance.

He speaks your name. Then, he asks, "What's really bothering you?"

Biting your lip, you turn your head away from him.

He doesn't relent. "You can tell me anything, you know."

If you weren't so utterly exhausted, you might've laughed.

"You wouldn't be my first choice for a heart-to-heart."

"How about your second?"

You look at him like he's just suggested the world is flat. He smiles softly, allowing you time to think.

It's weird.

This is weird.

The lack of verbal finesse, designed to extract any emotion or confession he desires. You're used to his cunning, his depravity, his unfiltered self. You've come to expect it, as one would the sunrise and sunset. Briefly, you search for it. The expedition is futile. His normal tells are gone.

Truly, you could almost forget the imbalanced nature of this dynamic and pretend it's normal.

It isn't, however.

So you'll need to keep your wits about you.

"Could... er..." you trail off, uncertain of the best parlance, "Will something like that... happen... again...?"

The claustrophobia of being shut in a trunk. Blindfolded, hands and feet bound, gagged by a rag. Terrified and sobbing. Unable to breathe, unable to scream.

You feel as small now as you did then.

The man told you his reasoning. It tugged on your heart. Wringed the organ for everything it was worth. He deserved justice. He deserved revenge. At that lone instance, the playing field was even. The immeasurable gap in strength between him and the Phantom Troupe's boss meant nothing if Chrollo wasn't physically present. There was a chance for this bereaved father to return the pain unfairly inflicted on him.

But why on you?

Why do you have to be cast into hell for the sins of another?

And why was it so tempting to forgive the devil's transgressions against you, if he provided salvation just this once?

You don't know when you began shaking, but you do know it won't be easy to stop.

"You must've been scared," he murmurs.

This observation makes your throat feel impossibly tight, as if a serpent coiled around your neck. His eyelashes flutter shut and he rests his forehead against yours. He contents himself on breathing in your air while you wrestle with the odd intimacy of it all; this simplicity untainted by needling or provocations.

"I never make the same mistake twice," Chrollo eventually says. "In light of recent events, I've made it clear that you are off limits. Those who still wish to try their luck, well..."

The air itself writhes like a malicious entity. The sensation is brief, but the impression lingers, chilling you on a primordial level. You're reminded that his control, while impressive, isn't flawless. Every surface can fissure, allowing the noxious contents contained within to break free. This concentration of ill-intent isn't even focused at you. To be on the receiving end must be to face the inevitably of death.

"... They can be made examples of too."

Curiosity nips at your heels, demanding satiation.

Your part your lips.

Then his eyes reopen. They're dull, lacking any illumination, like light itself felt the urge to flee.

It's an understandable sentiment.

For that reason, you decide some questions are better left unanswered.

#chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #reader insert #yandere reader insert #my stuff

713 notes · View notes

feirceangel · 8 months

Text

Imagine | Lost (Zoro)

Imagine getting lost with Zoro.

Word Count: 1,604

Warnings: hurt/comfort

(Gif is not mine!)

Things haven't gone according to plan. Of course, that's the norm when you're traveling with Luffy and the rest of the Strawhats. Each crew member has their own quirks, but sometimes everyone manages to stay relatively on track.

Except for Zoro.

The green haired swordsman is notorious for his directional challenges. He even gets lost on his own ship, that's how hopeless his sense of direction is.

So, when everyone splits up to search for the current treasure of the day, you watch with a chuckle as Zoro immediately storms off in the wrong direction.

Huffing with laughter, you race to catch up with him. You trail beside him until he notices and raises a brow at you.

"Huh, what're you doing? We're supposed to split up."

"Oops," you grin at him, chuckling at his exasperated sigh.

He doesn't stop walking, "Go away."

"No."

"I'm serious.”

"Whatcha gonna do? Stick me with your big sword?" You hide your laugh behind your hand as his ears turn beet red.

"If you're gonna follow me, at least shut your mouth," he grumbles.

Smirking at your victory, you subtly start walking a bit closer to him, eyes roaming the area for any potential threats or treasures.

If he notices how close you are, he doesn't comment. He's also on the lookout for danger, hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword.

You've always admired how ready for a fight his is- never letting his guard down. Even when he's 'napping', he's still paying attention to his surroundings.

You've tried a few times to prank him when you thought he was fast asleep but failed every single time. He seems to be able to sense your proximity every time you get within five meters of him.

Even now, as you walk in close proximity, you can't help but admire him. His tall posture and alert eyes that peer into the forest. His soft green hair slightly tousled from the wind.

"You're staring," his voice bears a tinge of smugness, making you whip your head the opposite way.

"Was not."

"Was too."

"I wasn't. I don't know why you'd even think that," you cross your arms and turn to look at him again. "Not like there's much to look at."

Your tone and smirk betray your lies, Zoro unable to stop from smirking along with your teasing.

"Really? Nothing at all?"

"Of course, I'd never ogle at you and your well trained muscles."

He smirks, turning away from you.

It's been like this since you were welcomed into the Strawhat Crew, easy banter between you and the swordsman. After you had proven your loyalty to Luffy that is. You believe Zoro values loyalty above all else.

Zoro had warmed up to you more than he had some of the others.

There'd been an unspoken tension between you: lingering glances and touches mingled with flirtatious words and playful gestures.

He'd let you drag him into drinking contests (which you always lost), nap beside him, and even join his workouts.

And you'd always tease him (backing off immediately when you noticed that he had enough), and steered him in the right direction when he got horribly lost.

Like right now.

"Zoro, I'm pretty sure we have to go left here," you point out.

"I knew that," he grumbles and alters his course. "I was just scouting the area."

"Uh-huh."

"I was!"

Laughing, you hop onto a large fallen tree that blocks your path. You turn to taunt Zoro a bit more, but you pause as a loud shot rings out.

Sudden pain shoots through your leg as blood splatters around you. You crumble down off the log, saved from a hard landing by strong arms.

Stunned, you look up into Zoro's eyes.

"You're alright," he says firmly as he sets you down against the tree. "It just got you in the leg."

Dumbly, you stare into his face, barely registering his words or his angered expression.

"You stay here and I'll be right back."

You nod, unable to do much more. As you watch him leave, you meekly call out to him, "Don't you dare get lost."

He didn't get lost, to your immense surprise.

By now, the shock has worn off and the pain has really kicked in. The bullet went straight through the meat of your leg, luckily not shattering bone. But you will need Chopper to get a better look and bandage it properly.

Right now you're using a strip of your shirt as a makeshift bandage and it's already soaked through. As Zoro does a second assessment.

"You're fine."

You glare at him, "I'm in pain."

"You'll live."

"Good thing, cause if I didn’t I'd haunt your ass!"

Shaking his head, he crouches in front of you, "Can you walk at least?"

You level a deadpan stare at him.

He sighs heavily, "Guess I'll just have to carry you then."

"No, no way."

"It's either that or you walk."

"You need your hands to fight in case there's more enemies," you reason. "Can't use your swords if you're carrying me."

"I'll just set you down."

"No, you'd drop me. And I don't want to be dropped right now," you fire back.

He stands up straight and glares down at you.

"What if you carry me on your shoulders?" You suggest. "That way your arms will be free and you can still fight."

"Fine," he agrees.

You wince as you stand on your uninjured leg, motioning for him to bend down so you can get your legs on his shoulders. He obliges and you precariously manage to seat yourself on his shoulders.

He stands without a problem, steadying you with one hand on your thigh. Pain floods your sense for a second but it is quick to fade as you realize something.

You realize the extent of the compromising position you've put yourself in.

You're on top of Zoro's shoulders, hands on his head to steady yourself as he grips your thigh with his broad hand.

You flush with embarrassment. Beneath you, you can see the dusting of a blush across Zoro's ears and cheeks.

"Thank you for this," you say, unsure of what to do with your hands. The desire to run your fingers through his hair is immense and it takes all your will power to not act on it.

"I appreciate it, Zoro."

He grunts, "Just don't get injured again and we'll call it even."

"Hey, I didn't wanna be shot!"

"You made yourself an easy target!"

"I thought we were alone!"

"You should've known better!"

"I can't believe you're blaming me right now," you say in exasperating. "By the way, you're going north and the ship is to the south."

He grumbles beneath you but does switch his course to follow where you pointed. You wince every so often as he jostles you.

"Sorry," he says, very uncharacteristically.

Surprised, you lean over to stare into his face.

"For what?"

"I should've sensed that sniper but I was distracted," he grits his teeth in annoyance. "If I had seen him, you wouldn't have been hurt."

"Distracted?" You raise a brow, "You were distracted?"

"Don't-"

"Was it me that distracted you?" You grin, forgetting your pain. "Were you perhaps staring at me?"

"Forget I said anything."

"Too late! Admit it, you were checking me out."

His delightful blush is back in full force, "Was not! I was making sure you didn't fall."

You pat his cheek, "Well, you did catch me when I fell. And I guess I fell for you."

He stumbles slightly, making you laugh and cry out in pain at the same time.

"Watch your step Rorozo," you smack him lightly on the head.

"Don't call me that."

"Never," you run your hand over his hair, "I think you secretly like it."

He doesn't say anything and neither do you. Despite your injury, you are enjoying the moment of closeness between you and the swordsman.

It's moments like these that lighten your heart and bring a smile to your face.

His hand shifts over your thigh, "Maybe I do like it. This."

"Me?" You add softly, tracing patterns through his soft hair.

"Maybe."

"Well, maybe I do too," you bend down and press a kiss to his forehead. "Like you."

His hand tightens on your leg, his other hand coming up to caress your hair in a rare display of physical affection.

"Y'know, Sanji's gonna faint when he sees us like this," you chuckle, imagining his reaction.

"Maybe that stupid love-cook will finally leave you alone."

"Sanji? Stop fawning over a drop dead gorgeous woman? It's unlikely."

Zoro reads his head up to try and glare at you, making you wince as you jolt your injured leg.

"Don't worry Rorozo- I only have eyes for you."

At that confession, he stops in his tracks.

"That's it."

He lowers you to the ground, your confusion growing. Weren't you both on the same page just a second ago?

You're not on the ground for long though, as Zoro picks you up bridal-style and stares into your eyes.

"When you say things like that," he tsks, "I want to shut you up."

Before you can ask what he means, he presses his lips against yours, hard.

He breaks away far too soon, “That’s better.”

“If that’s how you’re gonna do it, you can shut me up anytime,” you grin, lean your head against him.

Wrapped up in his warm embrace, you’ve forgotten all about the pain in your leg…

Or the fact that Zoro is once again walking in the wrong direction.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #op zoro #zoro x reader #Zoro #pirate hunter zoro #fanfic #zoro x you #one piece zoro

1K notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 4 months

Text

Lamp of the Body

first part of a fic long in the making based on some stuff @hypnoswrites and I were discussing about Chrollo :D

Chrollo x female!reader

Part 2

Warnings: mentions of accidents, injury, isolation, mentions of strangulation

Word count: 6.3k

You were struggling to breathe.

You couldn't see anything.

Your heart was pounding hard against the inside of your chest.

You were scared.

Scared of what? You weren't sure. All you knew was that the adrenaline was rushing through your system while you panicked. And what furthered that panic was the fact that you couldn't move. You were stuck, laying on your back and frozen in place while all of your senses told you that you were in danger.

Then you noticed the figure sitting next to you.

It was too dark to make them out, but you saw their general shape and the way they leaned over you.

Once they realized that you had seen them, they moved.

A hand reached out, turning your face towards them before caressing your cheek in slow motions. An act that should have been comforting, but instead the panic in you worsened and you began to cry.

The figure did nothing to comfort you; they only wiped away the tears that fell. Despite that action that to most would have indicated some amount of care, you didn't feel anything like that when their skin brushed against yours.

They didn't care.

In such a vulnerable state, you were at the mercy of such a person, one who had no concern over your distress.

As if you were simply a spectacle to them.

They wiped away another tear in a robotic manner, and still said nothing when those tears continued.

It didn't seem real.

That was your first thought when you woke up in the morning, your eyes going over details in the bedroom: the thin bits of light showing through the cracks in the blinds, the soft rug that lay on the floor that you had picked out when you'd first moved here, and the door to the walk-in closet that was currently closed. If it had been open you would've seen both your own and Chrollo's clothes hanging inside of it.

At the thought of Chrollo, you looked to the other side of the bed, finding that your boyfriend was still there beside you. You took in the sight of his face, how peaceful his expression was and the way his bangs partially covered the tattoo on his forehead, only allowing little bits of the design to be seen through the black locks. It looked as though he was still fast asleep based on the way his eyes remained closed and how steadily his chest rose and fell with each breath. As much as you felt compelled to scoot over closer and cuddle up against him, in the past your boyfriend had proven to be an incredibly light sleeper and you worried that the action might wake him up.

With all that Chrollo had done for you, the man deserved to get as much sleep as he wanted.

As quietly as you could, you got out of bed and made your way over to the bathroom, periodically looking back over to Chrollo and finding him to still be asleep each time you did. But as you looked back at him one last time before entering the bathroom, you were once again struck by how it still didn't feel completely real, that you were able to look at the image of your sleeping boyfriend.

That you were able to look at anything at all.

The lights came on when you flipped the switch, and instinct had you closing your eyes as they adjusted to the light. When it no longer hurt to have your eyes open, you made your way over to the sink, covering your mouth to yawn before you looked at yourself in the mirror. The gray eyes of your reflection stared back at you, briefly flitting about as you took in the messy state of your hair and wrinkled sleep clothes before you went back to staring at your eyes.

Maybe some might find it weird to be referring to them as being “yours” considering that they were definitely not the eyes you'd been born with and had come from an unknown donor, but seeing that they'd been placed inside your skull, it seemed silly to say otherwise.

Still, to think that just a few months ago you hadn't been able to see at all, your original eyes permanently damaged because of that car accident.

You'd lived that way for almost a year, and after getting used to the world being in total darkness with only the images in your memory to go off of, it didn't seem real that you were able to see again.

You brought a hand up to your cheek, watching as your reflection did the same and lightly brush beneath the area under and around your eye, your fingers briefly lingering on the small bits of scarring on your skin.

It didn't seem real, but clearly it was.

“Is everything alright?”

Hearing Chrollo's voice surprised you, and you looked over to find him entering the bathroom, smiling at you when you made eye contact.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” you answered, adding “sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.”

“You didn't,” he said, “I woke up on my own a moment ago.”

You were about to reply when another yawn came on that you couldn't suppress, and you covered your mouth with your hand.

His eyebrow raised as he asked “are you sure you don't need more sleep?”

“I'm fine,” you said, “I don't think I'd be able to sleep anymore, anyway.”

He nodded.

Then Chrollo walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your form and holding you close to him. You reached up and grabbed at one of his hands, to which he responded by taking your hand in his and lightly squeezing.

“You came in to admire yourself, I see,” he said.

You laughed a little.

“Don't know if there's much to admire here at the moment,” you answered.

“I disagree,” he said, “there's quite a lot to admire about you.”

“Well, you're biased, so I don't know how much I can trust you on that,” you said.

He chuckled, taking the hand that he held and lifting it so he could place a kiss on your skin. As he did that your gaze went back to the mirror.

It was a nice image, you thought to yourself. You and your boyfriend, both of you with hair that needed to be brushed and looking rather disheveled after getting out of bed, standing together and holding one another in a moment of peaceful quiet.

A definite contrast to what life had been during the last nine months where the days had been filled with anxiety despite how hard you tried to adjust to a new way of living. Unsurprisingly, having one of your senses be unexpectedly taken away was a difficult thing to cope with.

Despite what had happened, you spent a relatively short amount of time in the hospital as Chrollo had been insistent on you returning home with him as soon as possible. You hadn't minded that too much. Even though you hadn't stayed there long, the loss of your eyesight had made your other senses get stronger. As such, you'd grown to truly hate the smell of hospitals, the feeling of needles poking into your skin and the never-ending beeping of the machines you'd be hooked up to.

Being in the comfort of your home while you recovered was preferable.

And hopefully it would be a while before you needed to go back for any doctor's appointment, though when you did, the staff at the hospital would definitely be surprised to find that you were able to see again.

Chrollo seemed to notice that your thoughts had drifted elsewhere as he asked “what is it, love?”

“Nothing too important, I guess,” you said, “just thinking about what'll happen if I ever end up back at that hospital. They'd be surprised if they saw me with how adamant they were that there wasn't anything that could be done for me.”

You looked back at him while asking “why wouldn't they have mentioned the guy in Padokea?”

“I don't know,” he answered, shrugging as he added “perhaps they were worried what might happen if they recommended an experimental surgery and then something went wrong.”

“What do you think could've gone wrong?”

“I'm sure there's a number of things, though I can't say what exactly they might be.”

“I thought you knew everything,” you said teasingly.

He smiled as he answered “I'm afraid I must concede that I only have a basic knowledge when it comes to the world of modern medicine. That's why I usually go to Machi if I have any questions.”

You hummed, looking back to the reflections in the mirror.

You could lose that. In a mere moment your eyesight could be taken away and your world would become dark again.

Remembering the way things had been caused the anxiety to swell inside of you, and this time you voiced your concerns.

“Things will stay this way, right?” you asked him, “nothing's going to happen where the eyes won't work out and I'll need to go back to not being able to see, right?”

Chrollo's hand went to rest on your shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly as he asked “is that what you're worried about?”

You nodded.

“It'd be sad to get back my eyesight and then have it taken away again,” you added.

Chrollo pulled you around so you were no longer facing the mirror. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your lips before holding you against himself.

He spoke again.

“Everything will be fine, love,” he told you, “nothing's gone wrong since we came back, and if we were to call up that professional, he'd tell you that everything is fine.”

“You're sure he'd say that?” you asked.

“I'm sure.”

His hand was on your head stroking your hair. That alone was able to quell the anxiety that had begun to grow in your chest.

“After all,” he continued, “I promised that you'd be fine, didn't I?”

You nodded, remembering what he said to you almost a year ago.

You still remembered the way he'd grasped your hand and the feel of the fur that lined the cuffs of his coat sleeves brushing against your skin. You remembered the cast that your leg had been trapped in and the constant beeping of the monitors beside your bed. You remembered the darkness.

And you remembered how easily your spirits were lifted when Chrollo spoke to you.

“Everything will be fine, love. I promise you.”

At the time you thought he was only saying that so you would feel a bit better about your situation, that he was simply doing his best to be a supportive boyfriend as he navigated through the results of this accident with you. While the future may not have been completely bleak, it was without a doubt going to be different than what you could have ever imagined and you and Chrollo were going to need to find a new version of your “normal”.

At the time you never would have thought he'd find a way to make things go back to the way they'd been before the accident.

Yet he had.

And now you were here.

Still not completely recovered as the trauma that had come with being in such a nasty accident remained with you and would likely stay with you for a long time to come, but you were still in a much better place than you had been in the previous months.

And Chrollo had been by your side every step of the way.

He pulled away, cupping your cheek and moving your head up to look at him.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling after.

He kissed you again before saying “we may as well start getting ready for the day.”

He let you go after that, moving over to his side of the sink.

“Are you working today?” you asked.

“No, not today. My schedule is free.”

“Do we have anything planned?”

“Nothing in particular,” he answered, “although I suppose I should figure out something fast, otherwise you'll be insistent on watching horror movies all day.”

You pouted a little as you asked “what's wrong with that?”

“Ordinarily there would be nothing wrong with that. Unfortunately, you never seem to be able to pick any good movies,” he replied.

“Rude.”

“It's the truth, love.”

“Even if it is, you aren't supposed to say that.”

“So I'm supposed to lie to you?”

“When it comes to my taste in movies, yeah.”

“Interesting.”

There wasn't any malice behind either of your words during that bit of banter, and you couldn't help giggling a little bit after. Chrollo also had a soft smile on his face, though the somewhat distant gaze his gray eyes made it seem as though he was thinking about something.

His eyes…

… Huh. You hadn't really thought about it before.

“We almost match now,” you said.

“Hm?”

He glanced over to you, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Our eyes,” you explained, pointing to your own as you continued with “we almost have the same eye color now. It's off by just a few shades.”

Chrollo's hummed as he smiled again.

“So we do.”

Was that a dumb thing to point out? If it was he wouldn't say anything like that. And with the amount of time the two of you had been together, he was probably used to hearing such things from you. How a man like him wanted to be with someone like you, you would never know. But after the events of the past few months, you could say with one hundred percent certainty that he deeply cared about you.

Really, you didn't deserve him.

“I'll do whatever you want to do today, Chrollo,” you said, smiling at him again.

He smiled back at you as he said “I'll need to make sure I come up with something good, then.”

The accident happened when Chrollo was away on business, during one of his trips that he took every few months that lasted up to a few weeks on average. You never quite knew what those trips were about; Chrollo said he couldn't tell you and communication with him during those times was shoddy at best, so you didn't even have much to go off of to figure out on your own what he was doing. There was a constant curiosity burning in you about what he was doing exactly, but since he told you that you didn't need to know, you stopped pressing the issue.

If Chrollo said so, then you trusted him.

Not that your trust helped at all in how lonely those weeks would be while he was gone. With communication being almost non-existent while he was away and no one else around to hang out with or even really talk to, the feeling of isolation would take over fast. For that reason, you figured that things would be more interesting if you were to step out of your routine. That day you headed out to attend a convention that was taking place not too far from where you lived in the hopes you could browse around, perhaps make a few new friends, but mostly to do something different.

When you were on your way was when a careless driver slammed headfirst into the taxi you'd been riding in.

Your leg and collarbone had both been broken, and one of your wrists and a few of your ribs had been fractured. Terrible injuries, to be sure, but those were things that you could recover from.

The loss of your eyesight was a different story, and the doctor who'd treated your injuries had informed you that there was no way to bring that back.

Hearing that had been hard.

It was made harder still when your attempts to reach Chrollo failed.

Even after giving them his number, the hospital had been unable to contact Chrollo as every single call they made failed to go through. With you stuck in bed with all of your injuries and not having anyone else you could contact, it was a devastating few days.

But on the afternoon of your third day in the hospital he showed up unexpectedly, heading straight to your room and calling out to you once he saw you. Relief filled you in the moment where you heard his voice, but the gravity of the situation brought you back down not long after. His hands grasped yours, and you felt the fur that lined the cuffs of his coat brush against your skin as you tearfully told him that you couldn't see anymore.

It seemed to take him a moment to process that information as he remained silent at first.

After a few moments, he pulled your hand up to his mouth and placed a kiss to your skin.

And then he spoke again.

“Everything will be fine, love. I promise you.”

The words had been spoken with conviction.

And he was right.

Everything had seemingly gone back to the way it was before, and that fact in of itself was better than you could've hoped for.

It was hard to breathe, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through you while you lay frozen in place. You couldn't move. No matter how many times your brain ordered your limbs to break free of their state of stasis, they wouldn't comply, and you were stuck, laying as though rigor mortis had set in.

The figure was there. Though you still couldn't see them clearly, you felt them watching you.

Why wouldn't they help you? Why did they only ever watch?

Your jaw refused to open so you could ask those questions, and you were left to harshly breathe through your nose while the figure continued to observe you.

The next morning, while you fought with the eggs that didn't want to be unstuck from the pan, a thought came to you.

“What sort of things does Kortopi like?” you asked, looking back to where Chrollo sat at the table.

“Kortopi? He likes books. He also enjoys making miniatures.”

“Miniatures?”

“Those sets you can get from hobby stores,” Chrollo clarified before adding, “what makes you ask?”

You turned back to the pan as you answered “I wanted to do something for him since he helped us out. I thought maybe I could get him something nice; like I could put together a basket of stuff he'd like as a way to say 'thank you'. Same with Pakunoda and Machi.”

You paused before adding “and Shalnark.”

“Why the hesitation in naming Shalnark?”

Of course he picked up on that.

“… I don't want to say anything bad about your friend,” you replied.

You glanced back to find that his eyebrow had raised slightly.

“Oh? What did he do?”

You were hesitant to answer, because while Shalnark had been rather intrusive when he'd been here with you, he had been helping you and Chrollo out. Still, you knew from past experiences that Chrollo wasn't going to let this go.

“…. Some of the questions he asked me were a little invasive,” you admitted, “and I think he might have been going through our stuff.”

Chrollo didn't seem surprised.

“Shalnark does have a bad habit of being a bit too nosy,” he said, “but I doubt he meant any actual harm in anything he said or did.”

“Why didn't you bring this up back then?” he then asked.

“He was doing us a favor,” you said, “and you said that I could trust him. Just… Maybe if he ever comes back, we should make sure you're around to keep him in line.”

You heard him let out a chuckle as you went back to your cooking.

“He usually listens to me, so that shouldn't be an issue,” Chrollo said, “and if you'd like, I can take care of getting him something.”

“Nah, I'll still get him a gift as thanks. It'd be rude if I didn't,” you said, “hopefully I won't need him or any of your other friends to babysit me again.”

The eggs managed to not be burned when you pushed them out of the pan and onto your plate, and after months of being out of practice when it came to cooking, it felt good that you'd managed to do that much.

“I still don't think you needed to call on them as much as you did,” you added, “I would've been fine on my own for a few hours those times you were gone.”

“It was better for you to have not needed them than be in a situation where you were having an emergency and couldn't get help,” he answered.

“I'm not sure how much trouble I could've gotten into on my own, honestly,” you said.

“You never know.”

“I guess. I feel bad for taking up their time like that, though.”

“They were happy to help,” he told you, “but I do think your idea of gifts as a way of thanking them is a good one.”

Setting the plate of eggs down at the table, you sat down as you asked “where are you heading out today?”

He was already dressed to go out, and he'd finished up his coffee just as you took your seat.

“Nowhere special. I just need to take care of a few things in relation to my last job,” he answered.

“How long will you be out?”

“Not long. I should be back after lunch.”

“So not long enough that I need someone to look after me,” you said.

He smiled as he said “not this time, no.”

A beat of silence passed, and though you suspected you knew what his response would be, you decided to make a request anyway.

“If I finish this really fast, can I come with you?” you asked.

Though his smile didn't falter, Chrollo shook his head.

“It's not the sort of trip where I can bring you along,” he said.

“Not even if I stay in the car while you go do whatever?”

“Do you really want to be stuck in a car for hours?”

“No,” you admitted, “but it'd be nice to get out for a little bit.”

He nodded while reaching over so he could grasp your hand.

“I know that you're feeling closed off from the rest of the world, love,” Chrollo said, “but I'd much rather you stay in here while you continue your recovery.”

“I feel fine, though. Better than I have in a while,” you replied, “I could start going out a little, right?”

“Perhaps. But not on a trip like this.”

“What then?”

“We can figure that out when I get back.”

He stood up then, and there was a sense of finality in the conversation as he pushed his chair back in place, though he kept his cheerful demeanor when he smiled at you again.

“No need to get up,” he said to you, “I'll see myself out. Don't stress yourself and stay inside.”

That last part was definitely tacked on because of what you'd said.

“Even if I feel fine?” you asked.

“Do it for me, love.”

He finished that off by placing a kiss to your forehead.

Well damn. How could you refuse when he asked you like that?

He smiled at you, and you smiled back at him. Everything was fine.

You were fine when he walked out of the room, gathering his things before making his way to the door. You were fine even when you heard the jingling of his keys and the sound of the door opening. You were fine when you called out one last “goodbye”, to which he responded in kind.

But the instant you heard the front door lock behind him and you could no longer hear his footsteps, your mood fell.

Life got lonely when Chrollo wasn't around. Largely due to how small your world had become as you were lacking when it came to other people you could be around. And while the accident had made things smaller, it had been getting to be that way even before the crash. Friends and family didn't contact you anymore and you didn't know anyone outside of Chrollo's social circle, of whom you very rarely saw. The most time you had spent with anyone aside from your boyfriend was a few hours at a time during those months of recovery when he got his friends to look after you when you were bedridden.

Did your old friends or any of your family even know about the crash?

You had no clue, but since Chrollo said you didn't need to worry about them, you didn't think about them most days.

Though it didn't help how the apartment felt incredibly empty whenever he was gone.

But it was okay.

It would be fine, you told yourself as you finished up your breakfast. Chrollo wouldn't be gone long. His lack of packing an overnight bag or getting one of his friends to stay with you was proof of that. He'd be back before the day was out and everything would be fine.

Everything would be fine as long as Chrollo was with you.

After all, he'd said so.You had your eyesight back.

Though it had taken a while to get to that point. Months of staying put in bed so as to not strain yourself, and then getting used to walking on your own again after your broken bones had healed up. Despite having no vision, muscle memory had kicked in when you were feeling well enough to walk without assistance, and you didn't have much issue navigating the layout of the apartment once your leg had fully healed.

That was when Chrollo came to you with a proposal.

The medical professionals told you there was nothing that could be done about your sight, yet Chrollo had found a way around it, telling you of an experimental new surgery being done somewhere within the Dentora Region of Padokea. Under normal circumstances, you might have been skeptical, and just hearing the word “experimental” made you nervous. But Chrollo managed to convince you to give it a shot. All it took was a single conversation and he had gotten you to agree.

You were glad that he did, otherwise you might not be here like this right now. Back to what your normal had been before the accident, at least for the most part. Being able to be on your own and not needing to worry if you were becoming a burden to your boyfriend. Going back to waiting for him to return from his work and eagerly greeting him when he walked in the door.

Chrollo had done a good job of keeping up a positive attitude while you recovered, but now you were feeling better mentally, his happiness seemed a bit more genuine.

Maybe at some point soon, you could start to go out again like you had before the accident.

That would be something to discuss once he was back.

You woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard as you sat up in bed, your arms shaking as you struggled to support yourself.

Another nightmare. The same as the others where you couldn't move and someone sat by and stared at you. But this time had been different.

You could still feel their hands around your throat as your air was cut off completely.

A quick check by placing one of your hands to your neck confirmed that it had been a dream; no one was trying to choke the life out of you.

That only brought minimal relief, however. Even if it was only a nightmare, the images were still fresh in your mind, and it had left you shaken. The thought of being unable to fight back or even cry out while someone sat on top of you and tried to kill you was one that made you feel incredibly helpless.

And you were so, so tired of feeling helpless.

Glancing next to you, you were able to make out Chrollo's form on the bed. He was still asleep, otherwise he no doubt would've asked you what was wrong.

Maybe you should tell him.

They'd started weeks after getting back from Padokea, and the first few times you hadn't thought much of them. And even when they continued, you decided to keep it to yourself. They were simply been the result of stress, likely in relation to the accident, and that at some point they would stop on their own. You didn't want to bring it up because you didn't want to saddle him with anymore of your issues. After all, you weren't a child and Chrollo deserved better than for you to go crying to him whenever something mildly inconvenient happened.

If the nightmares had stopped quickly you wouldn't have considered talking to him.

But if anything, they were only increasing in frequency. Not only were they leaving you emotionally exhausted, but you felt that you were being drained physically as well. Your nights were becoming restless and you spent almost all of the next day tired as you tried to recuperate.

No wonder Chrollo didn't want you going out; he could easily see that you were tired and took that to mean that you still weren't well enough for the outside.

It still seemed strange that they would continue as long as they did, though. Especially when you were considerably less stressed than you'd been before the surgery. Why were they happening when things were going well?

… You didn't know. You just wanted them to stop so you wouldn't need to deal with them anymore.

For now just rest, you told yourself.

With that, you settled back down onto the bed, though your gaze went to Chrollo, still asleep and with his back turned to you. After a moment, you scooted over to be closer to him, resting against his back and placing a hand on his arm. Chrollo didn't wake.

A little unusual given how often he awoke to even the slightest of movement on the bed. He must have been more tired than usual. Part of you was sad because of that; it would've been nice to feel him hold you back, to give you some form of reassurance, even if it was one small piece of physical affection.

But waking him up would be selfish.

So you stayed still, not moving any further, keeping your hand on his arm and your face against his back while you took in his scent.

You can deal with this much on your own, you told yourself.

Just rest for now.

“How would you feel about moving?”

You looked up from where you sat on the couch over to where Chrollo stood on the other end of the room. Moments ago you'd both been reading separately, and he'd gotten up when his cellphone had gone off so he could take the call in another room. He had just come back in and that was the first thing he said, and it managed to catch you so off-guard that it took you a bit to process what he just said.

“Moving?” you repeated.

“Yes.”

“And go where?”

“Out of the city,” he said, “somewhere in the country. That would be nice, wouldn't it?”

“…. Huh.”

He seemed surprised at your reaction, as he asked “you don't want to?”

“I don't know,” you said, “I was really looking forward to walking around here again when it's okay for me to go out.”

Shutting your book and placing it to the side, you asked “where exactly are you thinking?”

“Somewhere near the mountains would be nice.”

“…. Wouldn't somewhere near the mountains be several hours away from here?”

“It would.”

“Won't that interfere with your job?”

He shrugged.

“Relocating won't effect me much,” he said, “my work already requires me to travel. Adding a few more hours to my trips is hardly a sacrifice.”

“Besides,” he added, “I think a new environment would be better for you, especially one that kept you away from the stresses outside here.”

That made sense. Everything he said made sense, as it always did.

But still.

“I really like it here, though,” you said, “there are specific places I haven't been to since the accident that I want to visit again, and I won't be able to do that if we move. Not easily, at least.”

“I understand, but you shouldn't be sacrificing your health just to see certain places again.”

“I'm not sacrificing anything.”

At that, Chrollo leaned against the door frame before he sighed.

“You haven't been doing well, love,” he told you.

You frowned.

“I thought I was doing pretty good, all things considered,” you said.

“You spend most of your days exhausted.”

“I'm not that exhausted.”

To that, Chrollo gave you a pointed look. One that clearly told you that he didn't believe you and you knew you couldn't continue to insist that he was wrong.

“Okay, maybe I'm not doing as great as I'd like, but I'm still getting used to things. It doesn't mean we need to completely leave the lives we have here,” you insisted.

Should you mention the nightmares, that those were probably part of the issue? No…. He might use those as another reason as to why what he was suggesting was the correct decision, and therefore, the decision that you needed to go with. Like most things when it came to your life.

Not that there were any bad decisions that Chrollo had forced on you, but you generally had little input on them as he expected you to go with what he wanted. Like the eyes. He had basically told you that it was happening and you had been in such a depressive state that you didn't offer much resistance.

But it was different now. You liked it here and you wanted to stay. Plus he'd had this place even before meeting you, and the thought of forcing him to move out of his longtime home made you feel guilty. Even if he was the one who wanted it.

“Moving somewhere else just feels like a really extreme reaction,” you continued.

“Trying to keep your health in mind is extreme?” he asked.

“…. Maybe just a little bit, this time.”

Your voice was a bit more hushed when you answered.

After a moment, he pushed himself off the door frame and began to walk towards where you sat.

Chrollo would get his way again. You could already tell: he was going to talk to you, explain all of the reasons as to why he was right and shoot down every argument you had until you were forced to agree that there was no point in doing it in anyway other than his. Then by the end of the week he'd have found some home away from here, if he didn't have his eye on something already, and you'd find yourself packing up everything before the end of the month.

You loved your boyfriend. You really did.

But you didn't want to leave your home.

Maybe you could find some sort of compromise, figure out something to say that would get him to back down temporarily.

So before he could speak, you asked “what if we just held off on that for a few months? Wait and see how I'm doing after a longer period and come back to the topic of moving?”

“It's been some time already and you haven't gotten better,” he countered.

Sitting down next to you, Chrollo reached out and took your hand in his.

“I understand why you don't want to leave,” he continued, “but we do need to consider what is best for you. And I think staying so close to where that crash happened is having a negative affect on you.”

Giving your hand a light squeeze, he asked “don't you agree?”

You surprised him again when you shook your head.

“I get what you're saying,” you then told him, “but I don't think I'm going to get anywhere if I keep running from my problems. Yeah, I'm tired, but I really want things to go back to how they were. I really want to move past what happened.”

“So I'd feel a lot better if I could at least try to tough it out for a little while longer,” you continued, adding “and maybe you're right, that a change in environment is better for me. So maybe in a few months, if we find that I'm still in the same place, we can look into leaving.”

You stayed quiet a moment before adding “if that sounds good to you.”

It didn't seem like he felt that way. Or did it? You couldn't quite read him at the moment, his expression rather stone-faced as he presumably thought over what you said.

At least he was taking your argument into consideration. At least that was something.

“Alright then, love.”

You sat up straighter when he said that and stayed quiet so he could continue with “we'll hold off on it and come back to this discussion at a later date. However, if it seems like you're getting worse, we will be looking into moving.”

You nodded.

He squeezed your hand again as he then asked “you will tell me if you aren't doing well, won't you?”

“Of course.”

Chrollo stared at you for a moment.

Then he finally conceded, pulling your hand up to his lips so he could kiss it.

You responded by placing a kiss on his cheek, which he couldn't help but smile at.

It wasn't good to lie to him. You knew that.

But you were going to get through your issues without bothering him.

You weren't going to burden him anymore.

#reader insert #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #hxh x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere hunter x hunter

841 notes · View notes

plutogist · 7 months

Text

HANG OUT WITH THEM

i. part two: hang out with these characters (part one)

ii. gender neutral. reader | unedited version (lmk if I used any gendered terms!)

iii. cw: spoilers in manga (chrollo's part), mentions of death, massacre/slaughter, torture, trauma, and violence. stealing, fluff & semi-angst (?)

iv. characters: gon freecs, killua zoldyck, kurapika kurta, chrollo lucilfer, feitan portor.

GON FREECS

You hang out with the boy a lot as the two of you develop a rapport with one another and grow closer. The two of you would often be perched on top of a tree branch as he casts his fishing line into the middle of a swamp. He would ask you questions about your past, how you lived in YorkNew City, and even about yourself constantly while he was fishing.

Talking to Gon is comforting, although he is extremely enthusiastic. You might find yourself baffled as to how he appears to be fulfilled while not harboring any unwelcome feelings or thoughts. But naturally, that wasn't the only thing. He would take you around the town's outskirts. And to pass the time if you were in his place, you two would play a variety of board games.

KILLUA ZOLDYCK

When Gon wasn't allowed to practice Nen for two months because of his injudicious decision of fighting Gido, you and Killua trained together without Nen because Killua don't want Gon to be left behind. Since neither of you was particularly talkative throughout your training session-unlike Gon, who frequently emits a lot of commotion when the three of you are together-it was really awkward and silent.

You're just reluctant to approach him because you two weren't really close. But even so, he would give you advice on how to grow more powerful and tell you about what you should concentrate on. As an outcome, the more you two trained together over the course of the two months, the closer you two grew.

The two of you are hardly alone together unless it involves training, combat, etc. The three of you traveled to Whale Island after leaving Heaven's Arena to meet Mito Freecs, Gon's aunt, and Abe, his great-grandmother. They were quite friendly to you, and his great-grandmother told you and Killua plenty of stories about Gon. Gon once left the two of you because his aunt asked him to go get some supplies she needed to prepare later.

You offered your assistance to Aunt Mito with the laundry. Killua was watching you as you washed the clothes since he isn't really sure how he can help you or do things like that. He would speak about his experiences and escapades as an experienced assassin, a member of the notorious Zoldyck family, and the future heir to the family to keep you entertained. However, it wasn't all that entertaining to hear about how he was actually tortured as a baby.

You also shared your stories with him when you were younger. Being from your typical family, you didn't find it particularly interesting. To your surprise, Killua laughed and thought you were humorous when you were younger because of both your foolishness and your intrepid nature. You attempted tossing him your left slippers, but he deftly sidestepped it. Indeed, the day was enjoyable.

KURAPIKA KURTA

(Prior to the massacre of the Kurta Clan)

He would come and see you in your leisure time and encourage you to read in the neighborhood library with him. You would undoubtedly concur that it is Kurapika after all. You two would sit side by side on the couch in the serene library, and before starting a new book, he would offer that you execute an exchange. For instance, he may recommend a book to you and vice versa.

The majority of the novels he read are far more serious than you may think. He always recommends history or biographies of philosophers who lived a century ago, as well as crime, mystery, and science fiction, works. Despite how much you like it, you feel a little ashamed about the works you're recommending to him since they seem so plain to him. [Unless you have the same taste w/ him]

Most of your hangouts are just solitude and calm, but you like that tranquility. Along with Pairo, the three of you are going to stay in the forest as you three would for an adventurous hangout. You would capture fish or other creatures that are suitable for human consumption.

(After the massacre of the Kurta Clan)

You feel much closer to your childhood friend now that you've seen him again. He lost his positive outlook since, as you are aware, criminals killed the members of his clan. If you were in his position, you wouldn't have any optimism at all. Therefore, you are always at his side to lessen his sense of isolation and provide him with emotional support. A conversation with him may be quite intense and passionate. He would often speak to you late at night about his unsaid emotions, his grief, his trauma, his enmity, and the survivor's guilt.

He's still a huge book nerd, so you two would borrow books from the local library and read them together while relaxing in the calm setting. You are just brought back to the past by it.

CHROLLO LUCILFER

(When you were still living in Meteor City)

Chrollo introduced you to Father Lisores, the owner of the church that you saw. (First chapter) And now, you're affiliated with him because you look like you're on the verge of death and he pities you. In exchange for your assistance with his charitable endeavors and your assistance each time there is a mass for children and other Meteor City residents, he provides you with a place to live, food, and other requirements.

Furthermore, you got to know some of Chrollo's friends. They all treated you well, but Chrollo is the one you get along with the best. Despite the difficulties of his life, he is bursting with positive energy. He frequently stops by the church and enjoys bringing you unusual items.

Most of your time together would be spent in the church's rear chamber, where he would show you other items and instruct you in speaking Gelman. (In the universe of Hunter x Hunter, probably English). His discoveries and his astute thinking never fail to captivate you. He frequently blushes when you praise him, but in all honesty, he kind of craves it since he wants to impress you.

Chrollo requested you, Sarasa, and Pakunoda to voice dub a Mighty Sweepin' Power Cleaners VHS tape into your mother tongue so that the kids in Meteor City could watch and understand the episode. It gave you an immense thrill to voice-dub the role that was given to you, and it warmed your heart to see the children moved and enthralled.

(Phantom Troupe / After the slaughter of Kurta Clan)

After Sarasa's death, Phantom Troupe was established with the intention of exacting retribution. You presently hold the fourth rank and are a member of the Phantom Troupe, a group of malevolent thieves. You two don't spend much time together since Chrollo is so busy keeping up his leadership role, looking for items that can be of great use to the group, or if he wants to steal a particular item. In fact, it only happens once in a blue moon.

But you can't blame him after all. Though when all of you are gathered up for a meeting, he would give you pieces of jewelry, books, and others that you love, which you presumably think that he stole, it feels nice that he's thinking about you.

While waiting for the remainder of the members to arrive, you would speak with them about significant topics and share what you had learned from your mission. His responses to you are brief since he is still engaged with the book he is reading. You feel sort of sad about it but chose to not complain.

FEITAN PORTOR

While the troupe was in York New, he would pay you many visits at the gaming shop where you work, and would practically gaze at you as if you were a ghost or something - well, he's waiting for you to end your shift. You can't concentrate on your work due to his scary glances, and he physically stares at everyone that walks into the shop.

You would advise him to cease doing that after your shift, but he would act unaware even though he understood what you meant. You two would saunter through the Saloma Mall, only glancing at the merchandise in the storefront windows, not bothering to go inside because you're saving up your money.

But there was a time when you spotted a bracelet that piqued your curiosity, but it was so pricey that your wage wasn't sufficient to pay for it. Feitan was aware of this but remained silent. After dropping you off at your flat, he goes to the shop where you spotted the bracelet you like and snatches it violently.

He handed you the bracelet the next day. Unaware that he had stolen it, you were perplexed by how he was able to purchase it. When you questioned about how he was able to afford it, he just said that they were confidential.

Feitan isn't a particularly chatty person, and neither are you, but whenever he comes to see you while you're at work, you strike up a conversation with him, and honestly, talking to him is much more comfortable than talking to other people because he's direct and doesn't sugarcoat his words, which is what you like best.

He just listens to your rambling while paying attention to what you're saying, but he obviously won't be overt about it. The two of you would play video games in your flat after your shift. Because he has a strong sense of competition, he usually defeats you. He constantly invited Phinks and Shalnark as well.

#hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #gon x reader #killua x reader #chrollo x reader #kurapika x reader #headcanons #feitan x reader #reader insert

476 notes · View notes

wanderer-six · 1 year

Text

Sleepless Nights

AN: Had an idea for the reader as the batch's Jedi General finding it hard to sleep when she's on Kamino with them (their room is probably so miserable and also the couch is the only open real estate LOL), turned into cute drabbles for every member of the batch! Enjoy ♥♥

Relationships: Did a drabble for every member of the Batch individually; established relationship for all of them!

Summary: You are the Jedi General for the Bad Batch. On a rare stay on Kamino, you find yourself restless in the Batch's barracks. You sneak away in hopes of making yourself sleepy, but with little luck. Thankfully, your favorite clone sweetheart finds you and does his best to help.

WARNINGS: They are all just fluff EXCEPT HUNTER bc he is a whore (fingering, dirty talk) - put him last in line to be safe/in case u do not want to deal with him (VALID)

Word Count: About 2k per boy, ~6.5k total!

Try as you might to fade off to sleep, you can’t do much more than stare at the ceiling.

In an event nearly as rare as a cool day on Mustafar, the Bad Batch had returned to Kamino for a brief stay. Though the visit wouldn’t last long—just enough time to refuel and restock—you now find yourself staying overnight in the Batch’s barracks. Since you’ve become their “de facto” Jedi General, they were kind enough to clear some space in their very cluttered room so that you had a place to sleep on the couch by the window.

And, as considerate a gesture as that was, the stiff Kaminoan furniture fails to bring you the same comfort as your bed in the temple.

Sighing quietly, you loll your head to the side, making out the room in the faint light. Unlike you, it seemed all five of your companions slept soundly. Tech had passed out, datapad in hand, while Echo slept bundled under a dozen blankets in his makeshift hammock. Hunter’s long hair was a complete mess, and Crosshair was about as quiet and stiff as a corpse. Wrecker, in contrast, snored so loudly that you weren’t certain how any of you ever got any rest. But even with how loud he was, the other four had all managed to lapse into their dreams, getting all the rest they needed before you were to set out in the morning.

So even among the odd ones out, you were odder, still.

Wearily, you rub your eyes, turning away to look up at the window. Little drops of rain flecked against the transparisteel, and watching them roll down eased your mind. When you were younger—back before the war—rainy days on Coruscant were something you looked forward to. Your master would kindly allow you to stay in for the day, trading your studies for many hours spent reading with a hot cup of tea at your side. Though you couldn’t enjoy such luxuries anymore, the rain still brought you a warm feeling of nostalgia… a comfort that could rarely be replicated.

It makes you wonder if such a feeling could be the cure for your insomnia.

With one last glance at your companions, you gingerly shed the blanket you’ve been resting under. Careful not to make any noise, you step into your slippers and get to your feet. Though the chilly temperature of the Kaminoan facilities isn’t exactly pleasant in your shorts and tank top, you grab your blanket and power through it. Having spent as much time on Kamino as you have during the war, you’ve found a few places that you like to run off to every now and then—and you know that the spot you have in mind will make powering through the cold more than worth it.

Carefully, you tiptoe through the piles of electronics, mementos and trophies that litter the Batch’s room, making sure not to disturb a single thing as you make your way to the door. When you reach it at last, you let out the breath you’d been holding. With one last peek over your shoulder to ensure you haven’t disturbed any of your friends, you open the door—closing it just as swiftly when you’re on the other side.

Though they remain lit in a blinding white, the halls of Tipoca City are largely empty at this hour. You’re more than thankful for that, since you can’t imagine the looks you’d get walking around in your pajamas. You wind through the corridors, eventually making your way to a secluded elevator. When you enter, the door closes behind you, and you’re lifted up to your destination.

The elevator releases you into a small, quiet room with a large overhang and a window open to the elements at the far end. You would describe it as a “viewing deck”, but it was unlike the Kaminoans to build anything for sentimental value. Even still, the room served such a purpose for you, and that was good enough. You walk inside, and the room darkens as the elevator door shuts behind you. Only the ambient glow of the grey, stormy night over Kamino remains, and you couldn’t appreciate it more.

You roam a bit closer to the exposed window, and just as the cool breeze strikes you, you stop. Gently, you take a seat on the floor, facing the open sky. You deeply breathe in the smell of the rain, filled with memories of better days. The raindrops strike against the metal roof, and for a while, you simply sit in silence. Bundling your blanket around your shoulders a bit more tightly, you pout—though you feel more relaxed, it seems sleepiness is still not in your stars. It’s frustrating to say the least, and you can’t help but sigh.

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to rest tonight.

After a short while, something catches you by surprise. Without warning, you hear the quiet hum of the elevator doors. You’re nearly worried that the Kaminoans have come to chastise you for sneaking off into some secret lab of theirs. But when you look over your shoulder, peering through the yellow glow of the elevator lights, you see…

WRECKER

… the large frame of Wrecker, who stumbles into the room.

The poor thing’s eyes switch between half-lidded and fully closed, and it’s clear from the way he wobbles as he walks that he isn’t fully awake. However, that fact obviously hasn’t dampened his resolve to find you—something that you find all too adorable.

“Wrecker?” you call to him. In the sweetest way, he perks up when he hears your voice.

“... little tooka?” he grumbles, referring to you by the adorable nickname he’d given you when you first met. Rubbing one of his eyes, he tromps over to where you’re sitting. Before you can say another word, he plops down beside you, swiftly burgling you into his lap. You giggle in surprise—more so when he wraps you up tight in his big arms.

“Wrecker…!” you beam, wriggling in his embrace until you’re able to kiss his cheek. “What are you doing up, handsome? It’s late!”

Wrecker heaves a heavy sigh, keeping you snug in his embrace.

“You… you were gone…” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek absently against your head as he speaks. “Missed you…”

His voice trails off into a quiet hum, and he sets a gentle kiss on your temple. You’ve always enjoyed being in Wrecker’s embrace—short of being a Wookiee, he’s the biggest and cuddliest man in the whole galaxy. But with the war going on, you often find yourself hugging him when he’s wearing his cold, hard armor.

Tonight, however, he has no gear to speak of. With him in his blacks, you aren’t separated from him by a layer of plastoid-alloy composite. You can feel the warmth of his broad chest beneath the soft fabric, and his muscular arms make you feel safer than anything. He gives you soft butterfly kisses all over your face, lazily petting your head. You smile softly—he treats you just as kindly as he treats his Lula.

“I’m glad you came up here, but… you didn’t have to come looking for me, handsome,” you assure him. “I would’ve come back to the barracks eventually. I was just feeling a little restless, is all.”

Wrecker nods slowly, though with the way his eyes are firmly shut, you have no doubt he missed every word you said.

“Yeah, uh-huh…” he mumbles. He pauses for a moment, drawing a deep, steady breath. “... I love you so much.”

With a bright smile, you kiss his cheek. “I love you, too, Wrecker.”

Those words, in particular, manage to break through his sleepy haze. He dons a big grin—one so sweet you can’t help but giggle.

“I just wanna hold you like this forever,” he sighs. For a moment, his eyes open, and with the sweetest, meekest tone, he asks, “Will you always be my little tooka?”

Your heart aches with overwhelming affection for your poor, sleepy sweetheart. Gingerly, you drape your arms around his neck, drawing him in for a long, loving kiss—one that you hope tells him you’ll always be his better than words ever could.

When your lips part, he smiles again, bumping his nose awkwardly against yours. You laugh, giving him one last quick peck.

“Wrecker… as long as you stay this sweet, I’ll always, always be your little tooka,” you assure him, resting your forehead on his. “And nothing will ever change that. I promise.”

Overwhelmed with love, Wrecker lets out a big, happy sigh—cuddling you even closer against his chest.

“Little tooka… you’re the best girl in the whole galaxy,” he hums with the utmost contentment, “I love you so much, it… it’s not even funny.”

Though you smile at his outpouring of affection, you find yourself yawning for the first time that night. Something about the way Wrecker holds you so close, the rhythmic way his fingers run across your scalp, the warmth of his body against the cold of the stormy night…

Against all odds, you think your sweetheart is just the one to coax you off to sleep.

The two of you sit quietly for a short while, exchanging sweet nothings to one another as the rain turns from a churning storm to a gentle shower. When your eyelids feel about as heavy as Wrecker’s, you look up to him with a smile, setting your hand on his cheek.

“Well, sweetheart… we should probably head back to the barracks,” you whisper. “We don’t want the others to think we’ve gone missing when they wake up.”

With an obedient nod, Wrecker gets to his feet—carrying you in his arms all the while. Just as tired as he was when he came up to find you, he hobbles back to the elevator, though not without a kiss on your forehead along the way.

Wrecker carries you all the way back to the barracks, and though you expect him to lay you back down in your spot on the couch, he instead keeps you in his arms all the way to his bunk. Even as he retreats back under his covers, he holds onto you, making sure you’re snug as a brindlebug when he settles down at last—and in Wrecker’s arms, how could you be anything but?

With you cozy against his chest, Wrecker smiles down at you, giving you one last kiss on the forehead.

“Goodnight, lil’ tooka,” he whispers, “I love you.”

With a bright smile, you nuzzle your head into his neck as you wrap your arms around him (well, as close to “around him” as your arms can reach).

“Goodnight, Wrecker… I love you, too,” you answer.

And at long last, you fall asleep—finally comfortable in the arms of the sweetest boy in the galaxy.

ECHO

…Echo, whose bright eyes soften when you meet them. Though he clearly came to find you, he looks almost shy as he enters the room, stepping softly as he approaches your side.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smile. “Of course, Echo.”

Reassured by your words, Echo takes a seat to your right, heaving a long sigh as he stares into the storm pouring over Tipoca City. At first, he keeps quiet, as though not wanting to interrupt your peaceful silence. But when you lean your head on his shoulder, batting your eyes at him with a kind smile, he finds his courage.

“Can’t sleep?” he guesses.

With a lazy nod, you sigh.

“Yup. Just couldn’t keep my eyes closed,” you lament. “Usually, listening to the rain helps me get tired, but even that’s not working tonight…”

Echo chuckles. He wraps his arm around your waist, drawing gentle circles on your side with his thumb.

“Yeah… I’m right there with you,” he says. “If it’s not nightmares about Skako Minor, it’s Wrecker’s snoring. Either way, I’m lucky if I can get any rest.”

You flash him a sad smile, dotting a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth as a means to share your sympathy. With all he’s endured, you know just how hard Echo has had to fight on and off the battlefield to keep himself afloat. He’s told you time and again how much your love helps, and you hope he knows just how happy you are to give it.

“Well… I guess we’re in good company, then,” you smile, nuzzling your face further into the crook of his neck.

Softly, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah… insomnia isn’t half bad with you around,” he chuckles. After falling silent for another moment, Echo hums quietly. “You know, back in my old battalion, my brothers and I had a game we’d play whenever we were up late and trying to pass the time.”

“What’s that?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“We would take turns naming as many planets as we could think of. If it was your turn, and you couldn’t name a planet, you lost,” he explained. The ghost of a smile formed on his lips, his gaze falling as memories of brothers long passed warmed him. “We used to go for hours. I don’t know that I ever won… half the time, I’d fall asleep before we even got to the end.”

The thought of young Echo, diligent and tenacious, spending long hours racking his brain for the name of just one more planet sent you into a fit of giggles. Echo’s smile warms beside you.

“What?!” he demands, hand squeezing your hip playfully.

“Nothing, nothing,” you insist. “I just can’t believe how cute you are, sometimes.”

Though a blush fills Echo’s cheeks, the bashful grin he wears below it lets you know your little compliments are working.

“Heh… I know you’re just trying to get my guard down so I might go easy on you,” he teases. Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, go easy on me?” you scoff. “I spent years memorizing planets at the temple. You should be hoping I’ll go easy on you.”

Echo rolls his eyes, though the smile never falters on his lips.

“All right, then…” he chuckles. He pauses for a moment, as if he really needs to think about how he plans to open. “... Coruscant.”

“Wow; bold choice,” you snark, earning a chuckle from him. “How about… Kamino?”

“Raxus,” he returns immediately.

“Mandalore,” you shoot back.

“Ryloth.”

“Naboo.”

The two of you go back and forth, on and on, for what feels like hours. Given the number of planets you name, it probably is hours. Echo hadn’t been kidding about his experience—as many hundreds of planets that you know of from your studies at the temple, he seems to know even more. In a strange way, it’s really charming. Being able to name a thousand planets probably has next to no real-life applications, but it speaks volumes of that competitive spirit hidden in Echo that you admire like nothing else.

Eventually, the quickfire pace the two of you had kept up at the beginning slows to a crawl as fewer and fewer planets come to mind. You have to scour the farthest corners of your memory in hopes of remembering anything.

“...oh! Hoth!” you manage. Echo swears under his breath, and you laugh. “You can give up any time, you know. I won’t gloat too much.”

With a fierce grin, Echo’s brow furrows. He seems to focus harder on this than on anything he has in his whole life.

“...Endor,” he says. When you don’t answer for a moment, Echo turns his head to you, finding a coy smirk on your lips. “...what?”

“I’m pretty sure Endor’s a moon,” you answer.

Echo’s eyes go wide.

“What? No way,” he spits. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” you repeat.

“Well… maybe it’s both!”

“Or maybe you just don’t want to admit you lost.”

“No, it could definitely be both!”

The two of you look into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

“... Tech would know,” you both say in unison.

As soon as the words leave your mouths, you both burst into laughter. You rarely have the opportunity to spend time like this anymore—just the two of you enjoying one another as people, admiring all there is to love about one another. But as you settle down from your giggling fit, enjoying the sight of Echo’s warm eyes as they gaze back at you, you thank the stars for every moment you have with him.

And you see fit to thank him with a kiss—one he eagerly returns.

When you pull away, the soft smile on Echo’s lips warms you to your core. He doesn’t go far, leaning into you as his forehead touches yours.

“You know… whenever those games didn’t work, or whenever I was alone… I had something else to help me get to sleep,” he confesses.

“Oh?” you ask. “What?”

He bumps his nose affectionately on yours, almost hesitant to share.

“Well… on those nights, it always helped to think about you,” he whispered.

The gentle tone of Echo’s voice kicked your heart into overdrive. With a bashful grin, you abruptly pull Echo into your arms, squeezing him so tight he can barely breathe.

“Oh, Echo…!” you coo. “When did you get so sweet?!”

Echo chuckled sheepishly. “Heh… sometime between nearly dying and now, I guess.”

Holding onto him for dear life, you can’t help the weariness that overcomes you. When a quiet yawn escapes your lips, Echo smiles.

“Finally tired, huh?” he asks.

“Mmm-hm,” you hum. Your weary eyes find his, filled with affection. “Thanks to you, handsome.”

Echo’s smile softens. Gently, his scomp link lifts your chin, and he offers you one last loving kiss before getting to his feet.

“Come on, then. Let’s get back to bed while we still have time to sleep,” he says. Once he’s standing, he offers his hand down to you, helping you to your feet all the same.

Hanging on Echo’s arm, you walk to the elevator, working your way back to the barracks. Once you settle back onto the couch, and Echo into his hammock, Echo reaches out to you. With a warm smile, you take his hand. Fingers intertwined with his, you finally drift off to sleep, warmed wholly by the love you share.

TECH

…the glare of Tech’s goggles against the dark room. You squint as your eyes adjust, shielding your face with one hand until the elevator doors close.

“Tech?” you call out as he makes his way over to you. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a seat beside you, perfectly casual.

“Looking for you, obviously,” he replies. “And now, I’ve found you.”

Without missing a beat, he produces his datapad in his hands, idly tapping away on it without a care. You find a smile on your lips—he’s nothing if not predictable.

“Looking for me? Aw, Tech,” you coo. “Were you worried?”

Tech hums. “Worried? Not so much. As a Jedi Knight, you are more than capable of defending yourself—far better than I could, I am sure. No, I was merely wondering where you had run off to. And why.”

You sigh softly, hugging your knees close to your chest.

“Well… I’m just a little restless tonight, that’s all,” you explain. “It happens every once in a while, I just can’t sleep. No idea why.”

“Hmm. I see,” Tech says. Not even bothering to look at you, Tech slides closer to your side. He wraps his free arm around you, beckoning you to rest your head on his shoulder as he knows you love to do. You smile, obliging him gladly—even if he does not show it in the way others might, he is still perfectly affectionate. “It could be any number of things.”

“Like what?” you ask.

He adjusts his goggles, clearing his throat quietly before he speaks again. Your eyes can’t help but drink in his every little action. The two of you have been close for some time now, but even before you expressed your feelings, you’d grown so fond of all of his mannerisms. Just watching Tech be Tech calms you like nothing in the galaxy.

“Barring more severe medical conditions, insomnia can result from a number of different causes—many of which are, regrettably, found in our typical living conditions,” he explains. “For example, disturbances in the form of loud sounds can prevent or disrupt someone’s sleep…”

“Wrecker?” you interrupt, causing him to glance at you. When he sees a small smirk on your lips, he matches it.

“Precisely,” he nods. “In addition, bright lights can disturb the brain’s circadian rhythm. Which, er…” He pauses, glancing warily between his glaring datapad and you. Awkwardly, he tilts the screen away from your face. “...sorry.”

With a laugh, you shake your head. “It’s okay, handsome. You were saying?”

Tech nods curtly, before continuing to list more and more of the conditions that might be affecting your sleep. The more he talks, the longer he rambles, you find yourself leaning further and further into him. Something in the way he speaks has you captivated, soothing you like a lullaby. He articulates himself so wonderfully, every consonant he strikes sending shivers through you.

It isn’t long before Tech catches on to the way you cling to him. He tilts his head curiously.

“Is something wrong?” he inquires. With a lazy smile, you shake your head.

“No… I just like listening to you talk,” you murmur.

Tech blinks, looking uncharacteristically flustered. “You do?”

“Mmhm,” you sigh. Batting your weary eyes at him, you lean forward just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Will you keep talking, handsome?”

“W-Well… what about?” he asks.

You shrug, shutting your eyes again. “Whatever you want. Maybe ways to help me cure this little bout of insomnia?”

Tech looks over you with such fondness, eyes soft on you as you nuzzle your head into his shoulder. With a kind smile, he sets his datapad down beside him. He surprises you when he repositions himself, laying his legs out flat and allowing you to rest your head on his lap. Though you look up at him with uncertainty, he meets you with a kiss on your forehead.

“I would be glad to enlighten you, my dear,” he smiles, his voice now just above a whisper. “It is funny you should mention it. For some people, white noise is helpful to induce sleep. Things like the sound of the rain, or…” He pauses, awkwardly clearing his throat. “...or someone’s voice.”

You beam up at him, and he smiles shyly back at you. Gentle and sweet, his fingers begin to trace all along your head, soothing you with every last touch. Your eyes flutter closed, utterly lost in his attention.

“Hmm… does it work extra well if it’s the voice of the sweetest man in the galaxy?” you murmur, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I would not think so,” he answers. “But, if I am the man you are referring to, I am inclined to give my best effort for you.”

You chuckle. “Of course I’m referring to you, Tech. I love you, you know…”

Opening your eyes just as long as you can manage, you gaze up at him with the overwhelming affection in your heart. Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, pressing a delicate kiss on each of your eyelids.

“And I love you more,” he answers, not a hint of doubt in his voice. “Now, just relax. I will take care of you.”

Never have you trusted anyone more than you trust him. With a nod, you close your eyes again, fully submitting to Tech’s care. His voice and his touch relieve your every worry, and before long, you finally find yourself drifting off at last.

You sleep with a smile, his kind words carrying you to your dreams.

CROSSHAIR

… the piercing gaze of none other than Crosshair. When his eyes find you, his usually stern expression softens just slightly.

Wordlessly, he crosses the room, quiet as a lothcat. He approaches you from behind, sitting down and pulling you between his legs. You giggle as his lithe form all but engulfs you, his chest against your back and his chin atop your head. When his arms snake under yours and wrap around your waist, you rest your hands on his, falling fully victim to his embrace.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you smirk. “Did you miss me?”

Crosshair exhales sharply.

“Hm. Not really,” he replies, though you can hear the grin on his lips.

You lean further into him, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

“Aww, not even a little?” you press him.

Crosshairs grip on your waist tightens. He squeezes your sides just enough to make you squeak.

“Not in the slightest,” he fibs.

With a warm smile, you sigh into the cold night air, perfectly content in Crosshair’s arms.

“Well, I missed you… and I’m happy you found me,” you assure him.

He hums a quiet affirmation, before the two of you fall silent, enjoying the gentle ambience of the storm. You can think of very few people you’d feel so comfortable with in this situation—any other silence would beg you to speak and dash it away. But with Crosshair, you feel no obligation to talk for talking’s sake. Neither one of you had much patience for people who just liked the sound of their own voice. No, you two could communicate more than effectively without a word.

And with how he holds you now, you fully understand the depths of his love for you.

The two of you remain in comfortable quiet for quite some time, until at last, the gentle purr of Crosshair’s voice meets your ear.

“Can’t sleep?” he murmurs.

Sighing, you nod. “Mmhm.”

“Hmm.”

He falls quiet again. Idly, his nimble hands trace along your waist. You let them roam—you would never point it out to him, given how sensitive he can be, but you’ve grown quite fond of the way his hands seem to trace you when he holds you like this. He has so many little quirks, and you’ve come to appreciate all of them in your time together. It’s what makes him the man you love, after all.

“You should take my bunk,” he says.

“Hm?” you ask. “Then where will you sleep?”

“On the couch. Obviously.”

With a pout, you crane your head to look at him, only to find him already gazing back at you. The way he looks at you always draws a blush to your cheeks—it’s so intense, so sincere… you never feel more safe, nor more vulnerable. “Sweetheart, I’ll be okay,” you promise. Gently setting your hand on his cheek, you smile. “I can fall asleep eventually. You don’t have to give up your bunk just for me…”

Crosshair huffs—that cute little sigh he heaves whenever you argue with him.

“It’s fine. Between Wrecker and the storm, I wasn’t getting much sleep, anyhow,” he assures you. “Besides, you need the rest more than I do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m a Jedi, remember? I can last a lot longer without sleep than you can.” Your gaze softens, and you run your thumb along his cheekbone. “And you never get a good night’s rest. You deserve it, Cross.”

Despite your affectionate words, Crosshair frowns. He narrows his eyes at you, before closing them entirely. With a weary groan, he presses his forehead against yours.

“Love, can you please stop being so stubborn just this once?” he grumbles. “I know it’s hard for you, since it seems your favorite thing to do is argue with me. But please.”

Now it’s your turn to frown. You bump your nose against his.

“It’s my second favorite thing, thank you very much.” Tilting your head, you kiss him softly, pulling away with an emphatic ‘mmwah’ to his utmost embarrassment. “That is my favorite. But okay, you win. I’ll take your bunk.”

For a moment, he seems satisfied, the slightest grin creeping onto his lips. He leans in to kiss you again, but before he can, you speak once more.

“If…”

Crosshair’s brow furrows. “If what?”

“If you sleep there with me.”

Immediately, his eyes go wide. You feel his body tense up around you, and he rears back just slightly. You know it isn’t the prospect of sharing a bed with you that has him so worried—the two of you have more than grown familiar with each other by now. Rather, he fears those who will awake to find you sharing a bed together: his brothers. If there’s one thing Crosshair cannot stand, it’s giving anyone the upper hand on him, even for something like a little teasing.

Cupping his face in your hands, you meet his gaze with warm eyes.

“Hey,” you assure him, “if they say anything, I’ll beat them up. Okay?”

Crosshair utters the softest chuckle, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Begrudgingly, he sighs, setting his hands on yours before leaning in to kiss you.

“... fine,” he concedes at last.

You beam, touched as always by the way he’s always so willing to compromise for you. Getting to your feet, you take his hands into yours, helping him up all the same. When he stands, you keep his hands in yours, pulling him just low enough so you can kiss him once more.

“I love you, Cross,” you whisper. He gazes down at you, eyes alight with such affection that you know he only reserves for you. Tenderly, he presses a kiss atop your head, allowing his lips to linger there.

“I love you, too,” he returns.

When you finally return to the barracks, you find yourself cozy and snug in Crosshair’s bunk. Given it has an actual mattress, it’s far more comfortable than the couch by the window—made even more so by the embrace of your beloved sniper. In his arms, sleep finds you more easily than it has in years. The gentle caress of his hands is the last thing you feel before you finally drift off.

HUNTER (NSFW)

… Hunter, whose tired eyes light up with a smile when he spots you.

“There you are,” he hums, with the most handsome gravel in his weary voice. “I was wondering where you ran off to…”

You smile warmly at him as he saunters up beside you. He takes a seat next to you, not shy at all to wrap his arm around your waist when he does.

“How’d you find me? I thought I covered my tracks very well,” you ask with a grin. He smirks back at you.

“Really? All those sleemos I’ve tracked down on our missions and you want to know how I could follow you here?” he teases, pinching your cheek playfully.

With a giggle, you shake his hand off of you. “Hey, it never hurts to double check.”

Hunter presses a kiss to your temple. His lips feel warm, even more when compared to the cold breeze from outside.

“What are you doing up so late, cyar’ika?” he asks you softly. With an awkward smile, you shrug.

“I wish I knew,” you sigh, gaze falling to the floor. “For some reason I just can’t sleep tonight. I don’t know why…” You pout, hugging your knees against your chest. “It’s annoying, that’s for sure.”

Hunter nods solemnly.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he hums. “This war’s exhausting, but I still find it hard to close my eyes some nights…”

He falls quiet for a moment. The sound of the rain and the warmth of Hunter’s embrace fill you with a sense of peace.

“What about you?” you ask.

He tilts his head. “What about me?”

“What has you up so late, huh?”

A sly smirk forms on Hunter’s lips. He shrugs a shoulder, all too casual.

“Well, I was sound asleep, but a little someone saw fit to leave me all by my lonesome in the barracks,” he sighs. “Guess I just got restless.”

You grin, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh? Your brothers weren’t good enough company?” you tease.

Hunter chuckles; the hand on your waist lingers lower, his fingers skirting the hem of your shorts and making you shiver. He leans in close to you, lips nearly touching yours.

“Well… they’re not the kind of company I’m after tonight,” he purrs.

A blush fills your cheeks. Unable to resist his charm, you close the gap between you, meeting Hunter in a kiss that deepened by the moment. As his tongue slipped between your lips, you felt him hoist you into his lap, facing you away from him. He parts from the kiss with a low growl in his chest, before trailing more softly down your neck.

“Hunter…” you breathe, eyes falling shut as he lavishes you with affection.

His warm lips come second only to his warm hands that have since found their way under your shirt. His every caress causes heat to rise beneath your cheeks—even more when his palms land firmly on your chest.

You hum his name again, breath hitching as his fingers toy with your breasts. Behind you, his chest presses against your back. Even without all his armor, he feels so strong… so big. You know that, in his arms, you would always be safe. Well… safe from the other dangers of the galaxy—certainly not safe from him.

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” he asks, breath tickling your neck. You manage a chuckle—although a moan quickly overtakes it when Hunter’s teeth bear down on your flesh.

“I could wager a guess,” you tease. You feel Hunter smile against you.

“Really?” While one hand continues to coddle your breasts, another meanders slowly down your torso. “Why don’t you tell me, then?”

Though you wish to continue playing hard to get, Hunter’s attention makes that difficult. Your words stick in your throat when his hands breach the waistband of your shorts, fingers creeping over your panties. When he strokes over the wet spot in the fabric, you whimper in spite of your best efforts. Deft swipes offer just enough friction to drive you mad with want, but his strong arms hold firm against your attempts to rut into his hand.

“Well? Out with it,” he growls. His lips press to your ear, your heart thrumming against your chest when he adds, “Tell me what you want.”

With the way Hunter’s fingers work you outside of your panties, he must know that you hardly have the composure to make such a request of him. Your groans as you vye desperately to speak the words he wishes must still fill him with some satisfaction—enough that you can feel how hard he is against your back.

“Hunter… please…” you manage, biting your lower lip when he deepens his pressure just slightly.

“Don’t be shy, cyar’ika,” he purrs. “Say it.”

Meeting his gaze with hazy eyes, you sigh.

“Make me come, Hunter…”

You can practically hear the grin on his lips when those words leave you at last. He presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“Heh… anything for you, love,” he smirks.

Swiftly, Hunter pushes your panties to the side; when his hands touch you, now with nothing in the way, the mewl he draws from you sounds so pathetic that you thank every star for the raging storm outside to drown you out. His calloused fingers draw circles around your aching clit, now drenched in the wetness that resulted from his teasing. Only he knew you this well—well enough to have you trembling in his lap, babbling half-formed thoughts of your desire, completely and utterly helpless.

As if you couldn’t get worse, Hunter’s other hand soon joins the first. Not once stopping his motions on your clit, his fingers find your cunt, slipping inside of you with ease. Your walls clench around him, your every sense overwhelmed with ecstasy. The sound of your wetness against his hands, the taste of his needy tongue, the smell of his sweat and yours, the sight of his half-lidded eyes, and the feeling… it was all too much to bear.

Edging closer and closer, your hands reached behind you, finding purchase in Hunter’s hair. You rest your forehead against his, struggling to meet his gaze, but needing to all the same.

“Hunter…” you breathe, a whimper interrupting your train of thought. “I-I…”

Knowing exactly what you want—what you need—Hunter grins. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, meeting you in one last longing kiss.

“Go on, cyare—come for me,” he whispers. The sensual rasp of his voice combined with the magic he works between your legs has you obeying his orders with ease, tension building to your climax. “That’s it… beautiful…”

You come hard on his hands, your cunt fluttering around his fingers as they pulse into you still. The movements on your clit do not relent, either, elongating your orgasm into something unbearably pleasurable. It feels like minutes before he’s done with you—and minutes before you’re done, as a result. But, eventually, his touch slows, bringing you down from your highest high and lulling you into your warm afterglow.

Breathless and spent, you collapse against Hunter, nuzzling your face lazily into his neck. He brings his wet fingers up to your lips, and you lazily allow them into your mouth, gently sucking them clean for him.

“How do you feel?” he asks, a warm smile on his lips. When you open your mouth to answer, a yawn is all that comes out, making him chuckle. “See? It always works. Come on,” he wraps you up tight in his arms, before getting to his feet, “let’s get you to bed.”

Though you want nothing more than to cozy up to sleep right now, you pout up at him.

“What about you?” you ask, hating the thought of leaving him without all the attention he showered you with. With a smirk, he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t worry about me; as long as you’re ready for bed, I got what I came for,” he explains. He raises an eyebrow, grin turning mischievous as he adds, “And… I’m sure you’ll have time to make it up to me before we deploy in the morning.”

Giggling, you leaned up just far enough to give Hunter a soft kiss. He returns it happily, even as he carries you back to the elevator to make your return to the barracks.

“You know I’m good for it,” you hum. With a soft sigh, your eyes fall shut. “I love you, Hunter…”

Though you’re fading fast in his arms, you feel his lips on your head one last time.

“I love you, too, cyare.”

You’re asleep before the elevator doors can close behind you.

AN: Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed - pls tell me which was ur fav LOL I like them all for different reasons but I think Tech ASMR and Wrecker Hugs are my fav. And as always please lemme know if u see any tagging/formatting issues✨✨

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat

#tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #tech x reader #hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #reader insert #reader #Fem!Reader #Jedi Reader #W6Fic

1K notes · View notes

bwabys-scenarios · 2 months

Text

NSFW

He knows you better than you know yourself.

The way you like your ice cream, and the fact that you’ll always need a napkin after it starts dripping.

You get too distracted looking at your phone or something in the window displays and don’t even notice that ice cream is about to fall onto your white blouse until he’s got his hand cupped underneath the cone, catching the mess while also using the napkin to cover the bottom.

He knows how your body works, the sigh of contentment when cool air wafts over your needy pussy, the soft whine that escapes your lips when his cock finally sinks in…

You’re easily distracted in bed too, always making a mess because you were too enraptured in the pleasure he was giving you to even realize you were reaching your fourth orgasm of the night. He never minded though, he made sure to place a towel under your bottom so it didn’t get on the sheets.

He just adores the faces you make, the little whimpers and the pleading. “M-make it better, please… wanna feel good!”

And he would, because he knows exactly how to make you feel better.

He understands your needs like no one else ever could.

——————

||GOJO ||GETO ||NANAMI ||CHOSO ||TOJI ||KURAMA ||KURAPIKA ||CHROLLO ||ILLUMI ||LEORIO ||ARMIN ||RENGOKU ||SANEMI ||GIYUU ||GYOMEI ||DOUMA ||AKAZA ||MUZAN ||YOUR FAV ||

2K notes · View notes

jazzmasternot · 1 month

Text

I love this character so much, I wanna get him pregnant….

294 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 6 months

Text

nightgowns vs. lingerie

how they like their pretty little gifts packaged.

content + themes: riding, backshots, mirror sex, missionary, finger sucking, spanking/slapping, clothes ripping, some other thangs.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•

nightgowns

he personally has no time to waste on untying harnesses and bows..don’t get him wrong, you look good in your little lace teddies and Fenty sets. Hair styled and makeup done to the tee. But it’s not needed..he’ll just end up smearing it before the night’s end. So it’s only natural he prefers you in that $10 dollar ensemble from a Walmart rack with your silk bonnet on. No panties underneath and your big tits and ass swaying freely….makes for much easier access when it’s late night and he’s in a mood. One minute, you’re standing at the bathroom mirror brushing your teeth, the next you’re on your knees, sucking his dick. Letting him make an absolute mess of your freshly washed face. From there, he’s bending you over with a fistful of that nightgown curled in between his fingers. He’s pounding you from the back, leaving heavy handed slaps on your ass and forcing you to look at how pretty you look taking him. Even in your simplest form. “Ah-haaa…fuck me..” moaning through the three fingers hooked into the side of your cheek. That recoil and creamy pussy is driving him insane and he’s so glad he didn’t have to rip off any pesky underwear to get it. It’s even easier to hoist it over your head and render you completely nude before carrying to the bedroom to continue his fun. From laying on your side, lifting your leg and hitting it the way he wants. You two end up having the nastiest sex that night because he can’t control himself! Overstimulating you over and over until you’re a squirting mess all over his sheets. “Told you not to wear this thing around me, baby..you look so fucking sexy..” And It always hits different after he’s gotten some weed or alcohol in his system or it’s been a long day. Yeah, you may have been embarrassed at first wearing it around him but he loves that damn thing and loves you even more!

eren, ony, connie, reiner, choso, nanami, sukuna, ace, zoro, draken, mikey, law, rengoku, toji, usopp, hanegezuka, tengen, avdol, aran, bokuto, aomine, kagami + anyone else you’d like

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•

lingerie

he prefers taking his time to disrobe you. There’s something so elegant to him about seeing your pretty body wrapped in some sultry two piece he brought as a gift…corsets, bras, fishnets, heels..the works. He’s a man of couth and class so he loves his women all the same. Watching you strut into the bedroom in those tall shoes. You start to do a little striptease for him but he wants to enjoy this for himself. Tracing his fingertips up and down the curvature of your body..rubbing your nipples through the material of your leather and lace until he peels them off. “Mmmm..so pretty, baby. Looks so good on you.” His lips are tracing delicately down your skin and one by one, he unravels the layers. Licking and nipping at your flesh in the same breath. He knows the anticipation is killing you. That much is apparent by the faint scent of your heat hitting his nostrils and the blatant wetness drummed up from his fingertips. “Sorry, my love. Just let me take my time.” Oh, he’s having a blast turning you into a dribbling mess; once he’s got you to the point of brimming tension and near release, he finally rips them away and gets down to business. Lying you on the mattress, spreading your legs wide open and devouring your pussy until you’re trembling..trickling down his chin. Only after removing your thong with his teeth. Holding your hands and allowing those heels to scathe his back before they coil around his neck. Trust, all of his foreplay is coming to good use because by the time he’s inside of you, you’re gripping him like you never want him to leave it. “You look so beautiful…just like this.” Feeding you deep, passionate strokes. Telling you how gorgeous you are and giving you tons of praise . He’s going equally as slow as he was in the entire arousal process..a gentle clutch around your throat and you suckling on his fingers, it’s a prefect sight. Especially with that multicolored material shifted down to your tummy, serving as the ideal harness. Reigning you on his cock when he speeds up. He’s getting so close he can barely even keep pace; drumming up splatters of squirt from within you. He’s damn near ripped that lingerie from your frame and although he planned for this to be an intimate, passion filled evening of love making, he can’t but help but to get a little salacious after seeing you all dolled up, just for him.

gojo, geto, jean, erwin, levi, shinichiro, mitsuya, hisoka, chrollo, jotaro, sanji, giyuu, shanks, mihawk, aokiji, alucard + anyone else you’d like to add.

2K notes · View notes

rainydaydream-gal18 · 2 days

Text

(The Bad Batch) A Rainy Evening With Him

Author's Note: Happy Bad Batch eve! I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Storms, Established Relationship, Fluff

The air on Pabu was rather humid. Well, it always was. But you detected something else in the air late that afternoon in the middle of a project. You paused your task to look up at the sky, noting the gray clouds that were gradually rolling in. The wind picked up and tugged at a nearby banner so hard that you could hear the fabric whipping repeatedly.

The citizens of Pabu began to pack up and head indoors. Boats were making their way in for the evening. No one was panicked. There was no rush. Everyone was moving in an unhurried, orderly manner, but with purpose.

You looked around for a particular Bad Batcher in hopes of finding him before the rainstorm began...

Hunter:

It seemed as if Hunter had been looking for you too. You saw him standing at the base of a stairwell, tilting his head to search the crowd of people making their way to their homes. When he locked eyes with you, that familiar smile crossed his features. He took your hand, drawing you closer to him.

"Storm's coming," he said. "But you already knew that. it's nothing major, but it's not the kind of weather to be working in."

"Ah, so that's why everyone's making their exit," you said, glancing around. Hunter nodded and began leading you up the stairs, off toward where the Batch's quarters were.

Just as you made it to the patio, a few droplets fell on your skin. You and Hunter both walked under the cover of the patio, watching as more drops fell, speckling the stone floor outside. It was a quaint little patio with a cushioned swing. You gave Hunter's hand a tug and went over to sink into the cushion comfortably. He followed the unspoken request, pressing his leg against yours as you both sat side-by-side on the swing.

Hunter put an arm around you, and you leaned into the contact. His warm scent mingled with the salty sea air, like a sandalwood candle.

"I love this weather," you admitted. "Sunny days are great, but there's something about a little rainstorm once in a while."

He nodded in agreement. "The air smells good."

After that, neither of you felt the need to say anything more.

He planted a kiss on your head, and the two of you enjoyed the wind and the sound of the rain falling on the top of the patio, until it was time to go inside.

Wrecker:

You saw Wrecker on the docks, having just come in from fishing on a boat. He smiled when he saw you, strutting over to give you a big hug in greeting.

"They said there's a storm, so we are done for the day," he informed you, setting you down gently. His hand didn't release yours. "We should probably get back before the rain hits."

"Good idea," you replied with a nod. The two of you moved with the steady flow of the crowd as they headed back to their homes. There was no hurry, even as the wind continued to pick up and blow palm tree leaves around. By the time you reached the first stairwell, a few droplets of rain fell on your cheeks and hand.

"Oh, it's starting!" you remarked, showing him the drop on your hand. Wrecker grinned as a few fell on him also, and the two of you automatically began to move just a little faster. The crowds had cleared for the most part, so you could pick up your pace.

At one point, Wrecker just lifted you up and carried you up the final set of stairs, with the both of you laughing in glee as the rain started to pour. He barreled into the Bad Batch's living quarters, quickly plopped you down on the nearest cushion, and shut the door. Your body shook with laughter as you got to work on gathering some blankets and pillows. Wrecker helped you make a little spot for the two of you to curl up under some blankets and watch the rain.

Wrecker held you securely against his chest, his arm extended, so that you could rest your head on it beside him. The rain began its barrage on the roof and against the windows, but it began to fade into a dull sound in the distance as you focused on Wrecker's breathing and the low rumble of his voice as you both talked.

Tech:

You made your way to the one place you knew Tech would be. Normally, he'd be out working on projects somewhere across Pabu; but after the Bad Batch's latest mission, the current ship the squad occupied needed some fine-tuning.

Okay, perhaps a little more than fine-tuning.

The thud of your shoes on the ramp paused as you stopped to take in the state of the weather once more. Things had certainly moved along since you began your trek to the ship. Rain clouds cast the island in a gray darkness, though you could still see the sun peeking out in the distance.

One drop plummeting to the sand turned into two, and then that turned into many. Pretty soon, it became a downpour. You closed your eyes to enjoy one more gust of wind before climbing the rest of the way up the ramp. You walked down the hall of the dark ship rounded the corner to see the incredible mind himself seated in the cockpit.

He seemed to be running a diagnostic to finalize the repair process on his datapad. He heard your approach and looked up.

"Oh, hello." He greeted you in a light, airy tone as he adjusted his goggles. "I saw the storm, and I was just about to comm you."

You smiled affectionately at his concern. "Well, I'm here. How's it looking?" You leaned over to peek at his datapad over his shoulder, and he scrolled through the results of the scan for you to see.

"It took me all morning and this afternoon, but everything seems to be in order."

"That's great. I'm glad to hear that." You took a seat in the co-pilot's chair, watching the ripples of rainwater pounding against the shield of the ship. "It's so beautiful out."

Tech's gaze found yours again, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I just like rain every now and then. The air smells so fresh, and the wind feels kind of exhilarating."

"I can relate in finding beauty in it," he agreed. "Although, I am glad to have completed the repairs before the shift in weather. It would've been...inconvenient."

You nodded. "Certainly." While Tech went back to finalizing his work, you smiled at an idea that popped into your head. You rose from the chair and headed into the back to grab some blankets and pillows from the bunks. When you returned, Tech looked up curiously to see you arranging them just so on the floor beside some crates in the hall.

You extended your hand toward him, motioning for him to join you. "Now that you're done, come sit with me?"

Tech typed something out lightning fast on his datapad before shutting it off. To your delight, he sat down against the crates and opened his arm for you to scooch in up against his side.

"This is...nice," he said, gazing down at you with a soft smile on his You breathed in his scent, exhaling contentedly as you rested your head against his shoulder.

With the rain pounding against the hull of the ship, you two spent the rest of the stormy evening just talking and exchanging a kiss or two.

Echo:

You were already inside the Bad Batch's quarters, shaking the rain from you, when the front door opened. Echo entered, glancing around as if he were looking for you. When he saw you, his whole expression lightened.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," he said. "That storm rolled in pretty fast."

"Yeah, it sure did," you replied, taking his hand in yours and giving him a soft kiss on the lips in greeting. "Isn't it nice, though? We get to relax for the rest of the evening."

He seemed entranced by the kiss and nodded. "Uh-huh, very nice."

"Want to get cozy on the couch?"

Echo nodded at the proposition, and you snatched up a throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the both of you as you curled up on the couch together.

You laid your head on Echo's chest, listening to his heartbeat thrum within it. His hand rested on your back, occasionally patting it gently. Your gazes were fixed on the nearest glass window where you saw the wind carrying all sorts of tropical leaves in a flurry. The rain continued to escalate, and you sighed deeply in contentment.

Neither you nor Echo felt the need to speak for a while. You simply enjoyed the sounds of the storm outside and the close contact. At some point, the rise and fall of Echo's chest became slower, deeper. You realized that he had fallen asleep, and you smiled to yourself. Planting a kiss on his chin before settling back in, you let your own breathing slow. It wasn't long before your eyes grew so heavy that they fell shut, and you fell asleep.

Crosshair:

As soon as you'd heard that everyone was heading home for the evening, you started looking for one person in particular. Crosshair found you first, approaching you after you'd hardly begun your own search.

"It's nothing serious," he told you when you took his hand. "But it's nearly the end of the day anyway, so people are going home."

"Works for me," you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. He began to lead the way through the throngs of people making their way toward the steps. You relished the way his hand felt in yours, and the way the wind blew so fiercely against your skin, and the way it felt like you were breathing in the freshest air with each gust.

You and Crosshair made it to the Bad Batch's quarters and went inside just as the rain began to fall. You couldn't help but remain at the doorway with your hand resting on the glass, watching the gray clouds rolling over the island and he way the trees danced in the wind.

Crosshair had initially walked halfway across the room, but when he paused and noticed where you stood, he backtracked and returned to your side. He propped the door open and slid down to sit right in the doorway, looking up at you in an unspoken offer.

You smiled and scooched in next to him, breathing a sigh as you rested your head against his shoulder and felt another gust of wind blow over you. It made you shiver, and yet you felt so cozy.

"Thank you," you whispered, and you felt Crosshair's chin rest on your head in response. His arm wrapped around you gently and took hold of your hand.

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you watched the storm. You would exchange the occasional kiss, and you both stayed like that for some time, enjoying each other's company and also the weather...

195 notes · View notes

lenavonschweetz · 10 months

Text

Hunter Insert

Dean Winchester x Reader

Synopsis: You really didn’t mean to, but somehow you’d stumbled upon something called Tumblr - and in turn fanfiction. You may or may not get addicted to reader inserts featuring your favorite teammate. You may or may not get caught.

Warnings: Smut, second-hand embarrassment, adorable Dean, fanfiction cliches, fanfiction cliches turned on their heads, fluffy smut. It’s ok (and quite adorable, honestly) to laugh during sexytimes.

A/N: This is just a reworking of one of my most popular Bucky x reader fics! Tweaked for the Supernatural world and storyline. No Beta, so be kind!

You’d had a thing for Dean Winchester for longer than you could remember.

It probably all started when you met Sam Winchester at school. The tall goober took to you immediately. Your calming presence and warm smile lured him in and you became fast friends, giving Sam a bond he hadn’t felt in a long time. You were the only one he trusted enough to tell the truth about his family and their business. He spoke of his older brother with bucket loads of admiration, though he would never admit it to the man in question. When he told stories of their shenanigans back in the day, his eyes would light up but then his smile would fall just as quickly when he also recalled his father. You fell in love with the idea of a man glorious enough to make even displaced, ‘unwanted’ (his words, not yours), and jaded Sam smile like the kid he never got to be.

They say reality never lives up to the stories, but lord almighty were they wrong.

You first met Dean when the business of his dad’s disappearance was in full swing. A regular weekly movie night at Sam and Jessica’s place having turned tense when an unknown figure had broken in. You remember your eyes had wandered to his dark figure, speaking to Sam in hushed tones, head reeling as you realized this was the man who haunted your dreams. The infamous older brother and monster hunter, Dean Winchester.

You hadn’t believed in love at first sight, but the way his impossibly hazel eyes made your heart clench… Well, there was no denying this is exactly what was happening.

After Jessica had died you sat out the first leg of their search for their father, wanting to let them catch up. It wasn’t until after their father was long dead, and the apocalypse was well on its way that you joined back in - or rather, were dragged back in. Being the only woman currently in Sam’s life - though platonically, of course - the universe seemed to have it out for you and after having to save you from demons at least twice, the brothers claimed teaching you how to defend yourself and dragging you along with them would be safer than leaving you to whatever fate there was to be had. You even became an incredibly capable hunter. Though this was all after Sam had effectively ended the world with a demon lover who screwed him over, Dean died then came back thanks to the help of an angel - Castiel - who joined in your asinine little game, and the apocalypse really started. Because life with the Winchesters was never simple.

And through all your years together, there was always the looming reality - or rather, fantasy - of the Supernatural books by Chuck Shurley.

At first, the fans were harmless. There was the convention incident where reality and fantasy got a little too close, but Chuck assured you he was going to stop writing the books.

He lied, obviously.

Still, the fandom was mostly benign - and rather small, actually, with only some fanatics here and there. Although perhaps your favorite attention to come from the ‘fame’ was from Tumblr.

Folks from all over the world posted about the boys - or rather their ‘fictional’ counterparts. Artists’ work would pop up from time to time, usually of the boys, but yours were there - even if they were pretty scarce.

The art was amazing. Some funny comics, some lewd drawings, some gorgeous renders - all talent. But somehow, from Chuck’s descriptions of you and the boys, these artists rendered the most flattering, wonderful, and accurate works. It was incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring all at once. It even got you to start reading the books!

And you couldn’t blame them for the way the brothers were almost always shirtless or naked. They were like Greek statues, for God sake!

Your character was pretty popular, up until Chuck’s latest book where he started hinting at your little crush on the older brother. Thank God the boys never read them, or you’d be in deep shit.

Some users sided with you “she’s only human! And he is just so…well, look at him!” Lewd pictures were attached to that post. Others condemned you. “Seriously? How could he ever notice someone like her? #DeanDeservesBetter” “What’s Chuck thinking?”, “Worst. Ship. EVER!”

Those stung, you’d admit. But if growing up in the 21st century taught you anything, it’s that fans were only jealous and no one was safe. You could ignore the hate though.

What you couldn’t ignore was the fanfiction.

Oh goodness, the fanfiction.

What seemed to be most popular were the reader inserts with your gorgeous teammate, and you didn’t mind indulging in them one little bit. Some were sweet and cute, others left you dashing for a cold shower after. It stunned you that these writers were able to capture Dean’s mannerisms and personality so well! And these works were just so addicting!

It became a daily thing, finding a new fic, and reading it in the safety of your room where no one could see or judge. You read reader inserts, stories with original characters, and may or may not have found a guilty pleasure in a teensy bit of Destiel (who could deny the two perfect specimens would be hot as hell together?? But you would never tell them). You steered clear of the Dean x Lisa fics, though, like your life depended on it.

That was one torture you just couldn’t expose yourself to.

Then you stumbled over the one that changed everything. A new fic by one of your favorite authors that featured Dean (of course) and…you. It was a prompt you hadn’t read before, one where the two of you had to share a motel room with only one bed and things got hot and heavy. Your heart raced as you indulged in this fantasy, thinking of all the times you had to share a room with your teammates, though there was always more than one bed. You had never shared with Dean, as he usually bunked on the couch while you and Sam each bunked alone, but a girl can dream can’t she?

And dream you did. Especially with Dean’s constant flirting and sexual innuendos.

The story became a constant thought in the back of your mind and when Sam hangs back at the bunker and leaves you and Dean to take on a duet hunt together, you felt your heart stop. At the motel when checking in, you were given one room and your mind ran ramped. Had he read your phone’s history? Did he find your Tumblr? What if he had read the sinful story you’d found and wanted to live out the fantasy with you (another of your favorite prompts). The thoughts had you following silently behind your partner, heart racing as he smiled at you while his deft fingers unlocked the door. Steeling yourself as you walked inside behind him, you dropped your bags and spun around to find… 2 beds.

Oh.

Well, you supposed your dirty fantasies were just that; Fantasies.

----------

The night crawled on with no notable incidents -unfortunately-, and when it was finally time to call it a night, you both fell into your own beds.

Sleep evaded you for hours. The thought of that perfect body lying just feet away from you swam in the back of your mind. You could easily get up, crawl into bed with him, and make all your dreams come true. The fantasies that filled your head made you anything but tired.

Well, that, and the fact that Dean was snoring like a mother fucking buzz saw.

Your wide, dry eyes stared up at the ceiling as the loud rumbles filled the room. Dean had come a long way - with your help - and no longer had nightly episodes or memories of hell. Of course, they still happened on occasion, but they were a rare occurrence now. The hunter often found himself sleeping soundly through most nights, including this one.

He was the only one who would, it seemed, as you tossed and turned, doing your best to tune out the irritating sound. You put earplugs in, then headphones playing music, then even tracks of white noise. A forest, a stream, the ocean each one louder than the last. They all usually knocked you right out on a hunt.

But Dean snored over all of them.

You did your best to ignore it, you really did, but when he rolled over onto his back and started with a newfound volume, you’d decided you’d had enough.

“Dee.” You say lowly, hoping that he’ll sleep through the disturbance, but that his subconscious will hear his name and disturb his sleep just enough that he’ll shut the hell up.

The resounding snort proves that theory wrong.

“Dee!” You snap, louder now. Nothing. “Dean!”

A few moments pass…

Nothing…

Maybe it worked! Maybe-

Yeah, no, there he goes again.

Groaning loudly, you sit up and reach for your phone. Fine, if his hard-sleeping-ass can sleep through all that, then he could sleep with the light from your phone filling the room as well.

You open your favorite app, the blue screen greeting your tired eyes. Switching over from the homepage feed, you type ‘Dean x reader’ into the app’s search bar and your screen is immediately flooded with fic after fic. Pursing your lips, you decide to narrow your search. It doesn’t seem like you’ll be falling asleep any time soon, so what would the harm be? You let your thumbs fly over the screen’s keyboard.

Dean x reader smut.

Happy with your amendment, you hit ‘search’ once more and decide to take a walk on the wild side.

Immediately, your screen is flooded with sin and you bite back a smile. With your screen’s light as low as it’ll go, you click on the first story and settle into a comfortable position, facing away from Dean and the window as you immerse yourself in the fic.

You’ve probably been reading for about an hour or so when your bladder decides it’s time for you to get up. Sighing quietly, you leave your phone on your pillow, creeping through the silent room. As soon as you’ve taken care of business and washed up, you tiptoe back to bed. As you all but fall into the sheets, feeling like you can finally sleep, you realize your phone is not where you left it.

Hell, it’s not even in the bed.

Sitting up in fright, your eyes dart across the room and the sleeping man in the bed opposite yours. When you see the dimly glowing screen on the bedside table, you sigh in relief, telling yourself that your sleep-deprived brain probably just didn’t register you putting it away. Locking the screen with sleepy eyes, you drift off to sleep with visions of Dean trailing kisses down your neck flitting behind your eyes.

----------

The morning comes much too quickly for your taste, but you push yourself out of bed to face the day ahead.

You grab your bag quickly, packing up all your belongings as you and Dean prepare for your hunt. He’s uncharacteristically quiet this morning, barely meeting your eyes as you two embark from the motel room. Shrugging it off, you follow behind him and before you know it, the two of you are standing before the doors to a known haunted office building. It’s far too early for anyone to be there, so breaking in is easier than you’d expected and the two of you don’t run into any trouble as you make your way to the top floor.

Once there, you put your plan into motion, Dean taking a defensive position as you sneak into the manager’s office. You find the haunted artifact like you’ve done a million times before, and you note the sudden shift in the air once you touch it. It’s almost too quiet as you do your work, but by the way Dean hasn’t even flinched in his spot is a good indicator that things are - miraculously - still going as planned.

Finally, your work is done - the artifact turned to ash and the ghost successfully placated.

----------

You don’t allow yourself to breathe until you and Dean walk into yet another motel, this one only a few towns over from your rendezvous point with Sam. You’d spend the night here before making the remainder of the journey in the morning. Exhaustion hits you like a freight train as you trudge to the room, and you find yourself hoping against hope once more that your favorite fics may come to life. But when your eyes fall on two beds once more those hopes are dashed.

“You can take the king,” Dean says, and you suddenly realize those are the first words he’s spoken to you all day aside from the business of the break-in earlier. There hadn’t even been one famous Dean innuendo all day. “I’ll take the queen.”

You raise your eyebrow at that but don’t argue, even though you know damn well that the man who is almost twice your size probably needs the larger bed more than you do.

No more words are passed between the two of you as you prepare for bed, each taking their turn in the bathroom and shower before turning the lights out and settling down to sleep. It doesn’t take long for sleep to tickle at your eyelids, but it’s chased away almost instantly when Dean’s buzz saw snores kick to life again.

Groaning quietly, you toss a pillow at the human-grizzly bear before rolling over to grab your phone and headphones from the bedside table. He continues, of course, and you go to your favorite app once more. Using your phone this late at night and right before you sleep is bad, you know, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with that man rumbling only several feet from you.

You open a new fanfic, this one’s warnings staring you down as you read “smut, language, NSFW gifs” and you can’t fight back the smirk that plays on your lips. Again, you roll onto your side, back towards Dean, as you get to reading.

You know your breathing has picked up pace as you get past the fic’s casual banter between friends and the sexual tension sets in. Your legs squeeze together of their own accord, your chest warming in arousal as you envision Dean speaking to you the way he’s speaking to Y/N in this fic.

Within a few minutes - and a few lines - the sexual tension explodes into a full-on kiss, the smut slowly building as a result. You scroll quickly, devouring every detail before your fingers slow as the top of a gif comes into view. It’s sinful, to say the least. You watch the way the man’s hips swivel into his lover’s, her head thrown back as he buries his head against her throat and himself deep into her.

Your lip is back between your teeth and you can’t bring yourself to scroll on just yet. Instead, you let yourself take every detail in as the image loops, again and again, your arousal growing with every second. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to have Dean moving against you that way. His heavy breath fanning over your collarbone as he grinds against your most sensitive skin. You have to bite your tongue so as to not moan into the silent room.

Wait…

Silent.

You realize at that moment that the violent snores from the other side of the room have died completely, silence overtaking their absence. A silence that has you tentatively glancing over your shoulder and only to immediately regret it.

Even in the dark, your eyes find the hazel ones that are only inches away. Hazel eyes that are damn near swallowed with lust.

Oh.

Oh, Jesus.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Kiddo?” His deep voice rumbles in the quiet room, sending your heart galloping as you jump up to sitting, desperately burying your phone against your breast in an effort to hide its contents from him.

“Nothing.” You say, your voice scarcely above a whisper. You don’t miss the smirk on his face and frantically reevaluate the past several minutes in your brain. When had he woken up? When had he snuck up behind you? How much had he read over your shoulder?

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” He says, teeth dragging over his lower lip and it seems for a moment that he’s debating on whether or not he wants to take this any further. When he speaks again though, he makes his choice very clear. “Looks like you’re being a very bad girl.”

The room is so fucking quiet that the lump that you gulp down is painfully audible.

He didn’t just say that…did he? You chuckle humorlessly, trying desperately to break the obvious tension and play off of the joke he is so obviously playing on you. Dean makes comments like that all the time. That’s just how he is with you! Any moment now he’ll chuckle like he always does.

But then he doesn’t laugh with you. Just stares as he scoots closer on his knees until his frame is right against the bed, pulling you by your thighs until he’s encasing you - palms on either side of your legs that are now thrown over the side of the bed.

You’reDreamingYou’reDreamingYou’reDreaming…

“That…that was too far, wasn’t it?” He suddenly asks, rocking his weight back on his heels. Bless him, he looks so uncharacteristically shy and you must look completely dumbfounded. He waits with bated breath as you open and close your mouth uselessly, desperately searching for words.

Finally, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you just quote the fanfiction I read last night?” OH MY GOD, you mentally scream. Why the fuck would you expose yourself like that?? What if he just thought of that himself??

But then what if he didn’t? Because that line had definitely stuck out to you when reading the night before…and suddenly, you remember why it had. That was the last line before you left your phone to go to the bathroom. The last line you’d read with tired eyes before you set your phone down, unlocked, on your pillow and - ohmygod!

“You read that!?” You screech, gripping your phone tighter. You gasp so hard you damn near swallow your tongue. “You put my phone on the bedside table! Dean, you totally snooped while I was peeing!” Alright, you could’ve kept that bit to yourself.

He’s biting that damn lip again, and you know he can tell that’s exactly where your eyes are zeroed in on.

“Maybe?” He says, voice small as he admits his secret to you. “I didn’t mean to! I just…I woke up when you shut the bathroom door, and the screen was shining right in my face - I just-I got up to lock it so it wouldn’t bother me, but then I saw what you were looking at and…” He clears his throat. “Y/N, I…were you reading porn…about me?”

Your face is no doubt a thousand degrees of embarrassment.

“It’s not porn!! It’s fanfiction, and-”

“It literally talks about me fucking you.” He deadpans, eyebrows raised. “In explicit detail. It’s porn.”

You’re silent for a few moments, staring him down as you wait for him to back down.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Ok, fine! It’s porn, are you happy?” You huff, crossing your arms and finally ditching your phone to the pillow beside you. A sudden terrifying thought causes you to freeze. “So…are you going to tell Sam?”

“Why the fuck would I tell him?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you honestly think I’d tell him something so personal?!”

“I don’t know!” You repeat, floundering as you toss your hands up before crossing them again in a pout. “It’s embarrassing. You know I tend to jump to the worst-case scenarios…”

“Y/N, I would never out you like that.” You would have to be blind to miss the way his eyes drag over you in your nightclothes, and you are suddenly very aware of your lack of bra and just how cold it is in the room.

He seems to notice too, his eyes zeroing in on your breasts and the way your nipples are pressing against the soft fabric encasing them.

“Do you…do you want me like that?” He asks, his voice dropping back into the husky tone it had been before his awkward detour.

“No, Dee, I was just reading porn of you for the fuck of it.” He chuckles at that, his palms coming to rest on your thighs as the embarrassment between you two eases - making way for a choking tension.

“Really? Ah, well, then I guess I can just go back to bed, then.”

“Don’tyoudare!” The words are out before you can stop them, but at this point, you don’t much care.

“Oh? Then what should I do?” His hazel eyes are dark, gazing at you from below thick lashes as his hands creep higher up your thighs, pushing your oversized t-shirt up to expose the soft cotton covering you from his gaze. “Should I do this?”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as he leans forward, lips pressing against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, please.” You beg, arms falling at your sides to support you as his mouth grows closer to where you really want him. Only he doesn’t quite reach, his eyes twinkling playfully at you.

“Words, Y/N.” He grumbles lowly, splayed hands pushing your legs wider to give himself better access to your heat.

“Dean, please-” A squeal escapes you when his teeth drag across your hip bone. “Put your mouth on me.”

Nothing you’ve ever read could’ve prepared you for the way Dean touches you.

He moves slowly, his palms running from your inner thighs to behind your knees to pull your legs over his shoulders. The movement has your stomach flipping, eyes never leaving his as he drags his tongue up the material hiding your core from him.

He chuckles at your moan, eyes batting as he presses the point of his tongue against your clit beneath your panties. To be honest, you’re not sure which one of you is enjoying this more what with the way his fingers tighten against your legs, his eyes closing in concentration as he laps at you.

In your wildest dreams, you never thought Dean would be touching you like this - at least not outside of the fiction you were reading. But, oh, is he touching you - playing you, more like it, plucking your strings until you’re practically singing for him.

You could cum just like this, light pets of his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, but then he’s tugging the panties from your form, diving right back into your bare skin and you’re keening at the contact, your fingers knotting in his long hair. He groans in response to your moans, forearm flung lazily across your hips to keep you still as he wreaks havoc on you.

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him but the words instantly make way for cries as he finally swipes his tongue through your folds - fucking you with his mouth as he watches your form writhe.

“God, you taste amazing.” He moans, and you have to hold back a giggle. “What’s so funny?” Do you admit that you’d read him saying those very words far too many times to keep count?

But then he’s pulling away, leaving you whimpering at the precipice of release and the sight of his strong torso being revealed to your ends any thoughts you may have had. Especially when he reaches down and rids you of your own shirt, kissing across your collar bones once they’re exposed.

“You got any protection?” He asks suddenly, teeth scraping at your throat and you are suddenly aware of the fact that this is real life, not a fic, and wow you’d lost count of how many bareback smuts you’d read.

Not that the thought of Dean cumming inside you wasn’t the hottest thing ever, but the idea of pregnancy was something you didn’t even want to entertain at the moment.

So, begrudgingly, you pushed him off gently, bending down to rifle through your bag - hey, it never hurts to be prepared. You roll your eyes at his chuckle as you bend over, shaking your exposed backside at him - where he has taken your seat on the mattress - before rising to hand him the small, metallic square.

He toys with it for a few seconds, watching as you stand with a lip tugged gently between your teeth and your eyes flicker to the semi-hard shaft against his thighs. Long fingers enter your line of sight, coming to cup himself, stroking a few times as you watch him.

“See something you like, baby?” He asks, free hand coming up to run his thumb against your lips. You nod slowly, shivering at the new pet name, eyes never tearing from where he teases his cock. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, Dean’s thumb accidentally catching where it had been against your lips and then he’s growling and pulling you to him.

Your lips crash together, a flash of pain as your teeth clack momentarily, but you’re far too lost in Dean’s intoxicating proximity to care. He seems to share the sentiment as your hands weave through his hair, pulling him closer as he moans and strokes himself faster before you straddle his strong thighs.

You consider grinding down against the taut muscle momentarily, but then Dean’s rolling the condom down his shaft, his knuckles brushing your folds as he does and all you want is for him to fill you up to the brim.

The desperation is clear on your face, wrapped in hooded eyes and a deep flush as you inhale deeply every time Dean’s knuckles brush you.

“Oh, my god!” You huff, getting ever so impatient. He chuckles at your tone, tugging you higher on his lap so that - finally - you’re aligned. A brief moment passes as you two eye each other hesitantly, your nerves on fire as you consider what it is you’re about to do.

You’re about to fuck one of your partners, one of your best friends…the man you’ve been fantasizing about for years.

“Ready?” He asks softly, testing the waters as he runs the head of his cock through your lips. Any hesitation you may have had melts with the shiver that travels your spine, and then some when Dean growls as you bare your nails into his shoulder blades.

“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t fu-ck me!” You squeal the tail end of your sentence, Dean’s own groan disappearing into the skin of your shoulder as he slides home. Pain and pleasure flood your senses and suddenly you are highly aware of just how long it’s been.

“Shiiit,” Dean sighs at the tight fit, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and holding you still as he struggles to hold himself off.

It’s been a while for him, too.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He hisses between his teeth, his brow as scrunched as yours no doubt is at the moment.

“And you’re huge.” He laughs then, the movement of his abs against your sensitive skin enough to have you sighing. “I, uh, think you’re good to move.” You say quietly, testing this theory with a slight brush forward of your hips. When delicious friction reaches your clit at the action you moan lowly. “Oh, yeah. Very good to move.”

And move he does, giving you a few moments as he slowly builds up the pace before falling back and letting you take the reigns. Your hands find his strong pecs as you fall forward at the sudden shift, and a shit-eating grin crosses your face. Dean misses this, however, as his eyes are screwed shut with pleasure.

“Fuck!” He groans when you begin to rut against him, dragging your clit against his adonis belt as his cock head catches against your insides perfectly. He doesn’t seem to mind this change, panting openly and quite vocally. Well, that is until his hands find your thighs and hold on tight. “Shit, slow down, baby…I don’t know how long I can last if you keep that up.”

You’re about to apologize, a flush very evident on your skin before Dean is manhandling you onto your back, your legs cast wide in his grasp.

“Let’s slow things down a little.” He teases, kissing your nose as you giggle and let him set the pace.

When he does, it’s dizzyingly slow, his teeth dragging against your skin as do his fingertips and after a few minutes of sinfully slow rocks of his hips, he is very quickly stringing you towards the edge.

“Dean,” You whimper, your walls beginning to flutter around him. The groan that milks from his chest is nothing short of sexy and you return one of your own. His name becomes a chant on your lips as pleasure rushes through your bloodstream, your nails digging into his taut back and after a few more thrusts of his own, he’s emptying inside the condom.

The high fades slowly, your skin buzzing in sated pleasure as a lazy smile takes place on your face. Dean is quiet, almost shy as he retreats to the restroom to clean himself and dispose of the condom. You snicker quietly to yourself at the thought that this detail is often left out of the fics you read, but the pleasant ache between your legs certainly isn’t.

“Well,” He says as he returns, slipping under the covers with you. As you shift, something digs into your side and when you bring the offending object above the covers do you realize that your phone had remained in the sheets that whole time. You hand it off to him as he tugs you closer, waving him to put it on the bedside table. “Aren’t you glad I decided to snoop?” He teases as he takes the contraption from you.

“Yeah, Yeah, Dee. But not as glad as I am that we can save on rooms by just booking us one bed from now on!”

You both chuckle at the jest, your giggles soon dying into labored breathing as your energy drains quickly against the warmth of Dean’s body wrapped around yours. Your eyes drift shut of their own accord, not noticing how Dean hesitates at placing your phone on the charger…again.

“Hey, baby?” He asks hesitantly, his eyes widening as he scrolls through your Tumblr feed and exposed to all sorts of sin.

“Hmm?” You hum, sleep tickling at your mind. That is until your eyes fly open wide at his following question.

“What’s Destiel?”

FIN

#Winchester #Winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn #spn fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #hunter reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #spn reader insert #reader insert #dean Winchester reader insert #lena writes

1K notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 22 days

Text

Worthy Motivator.

Blade x Reader.

Warnings: Typical Blade morbidity, Blade's slightly yan because I can never write him as Normal, and not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.

Author notes are at the end of the story!

Washcloth in hand, you wipe away the perspiration clinging to your skin.

While doing so, you squint, an act your reflection obediently mimics, confirming that yes; this disheveled figure is indeed you. You smooth out your hair, moisturize your face, then apply a light layer of toner. The process is completed in a timely fashion. A few hand motions made midair dim the bathroom’s lights.

Yawning, the door slides open at your behest, retreating into the wall like a turtle does its shell. The room is dome-shaped and customized to your liking. A light birch wood floor, pale pink walls, and windows showcasing scenery of a tulip field stretching on for miles. Windmills dot the distance, turning at their leisure. Gentle orange hues from two rising suns envelop the room in a cozy glow.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d believe you were actually on the planet Ethos, not traversing the cold, unforgiving space between galaxies.

While playing with the settings to change the time being depicted to twilight, it finally dawns on you that you’re not alone.

Blazing eyes freeze you in place and your breath catches in your throat.

“Blade,” you greet, wincing at how gracelessly the word rolls from your tongue, “I didn’t expect…”

You cut yourself off, figuring that finishing the sentence will strengthen the bizarre atmosphere. What can be said, anyway? ‘Thanks for that,’ or ‘couldn’t have done it without you,’ maybe? Both options seem equally terrible. To make matters worse, he doesn’t explain why he’s stuck around. He continues to stand beside your nightstand, arms crossed over his chest, his lips drawn in a straight line.

You’re the only one boasting signs of your previous tryst, the most obvious being your unsteady gait. Hoping to convey some decorum, you clasp your hands behind your back and straighten your posture. Surely, he’ll spill whatever’s on his mind and then make himself scarce. That’s been his modus operandi ever since this undefined relationship stumbled into existence. You tried not to take it personally. You’re both adults, if he doesn’t want to stick around for pillow talk, you won’t fault him for it.

His eyes sear through your being.

“You’re going to Illij.”

You blink, thrown off by the flat delivery and the intentions it conceals. He’s either painfully blunt or cryptic in his word choice. It’d be nice if he could find a middle ground between both extremes, but that’s wishful thinking.

With unusual impatience, he adds, “Alone.”

Ah.

A certain magenta-haired beauty’s previous words resurface in your mind.

“—Alone? Not taking Bladie along for the ride?” she had tutted. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

You thought she was teasing, as she’s wont to do, yet your developing dilemma proves otherwise. That, or you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the truth in her words.

Whilst shifting your weight from one foot to another, you meekly reply, “Kafka gave me permission.”

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you.

“Permission, huh?”

The condescension corrodes your former sheepishness.

Placing a hand on your hips, you reply, “That’s the word I used, yes.”

Your room pulsates with palpable tension. He stands to his full height — having been seated on your bed’s edge — sauntering over like a cat poised to pounce. You cross your arms over your chest as the distance shrinks. He’s yet to fully dress himself, wearing only his signature gray pants. His bare torso is marred with innumerable scars that vary in length and angle. Every time you both succumb to the heat of passion, his bandages occupy a new spot, depending on the circumstances of his latest battles. Presently, the cloth coils around his midsection and upper left arm.

He’s close enough now for you to notice the latter unraveling.

It isn’t anything logical that urges you forward. The sentiment resides deep in the recesses of your psyche, unsuccessfully shoved down by denial and trepidation. This formless substance takes shape as you meet him halfway. Blade towers over you. Given the massive gap in your abilities, you should fear him, but you know your pounding heart isn’t spurred by negative emotion.

Much to his perplexity, you set aside the nascent quarrel, focusing your attention elsewhere. Nimble fingers resecure the rebellious cloth.

“You’re terrible at taking care of yourself,” you mutter. “Honestly, what am I s’posed to do with you…?”

It’s subtle, but this shift in tone relaxes his muscles. That is, until you admit:

“I don’t like you being my bodyguard.”

Confusion contorts his countenance, then something more raw; something dangerously intimate.

“I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me,” you continue, lowering both your voice and head. “It’s… it’s awful and— and then— you don’t even care!”

Hoping to avoid further humiliation, you stop there, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from flowing. This wasn’t the direction you wanted the evening to take. You wanted to take a bath, dip into a game Silver Wolf wouldn’t stop raving about, and then prepare for your imminent trip. The trip that’d put thousands of lightyears between you and a man whose blood spilled for your sake could rival an ocean.

“I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve got Silv’s disguise software and she knows how to track me. So — I don’t know — take it easy, or something. You’ve got the month off.”

His response is immediate. “I can’t.”

“Wh— did you not hear anything I just said?” you sputter.

“I heard,” he confirms. He raises his hand to the bandage you rewrapped, as if trying to savor your lingering warmth. “When you’re gone, I cannot ‘take it easy.’”

Blade uses your stupefaction to his advantage. He takes your much smaller hand into his and places it over his heart. It thumps at a slow, steady pace, like it hasn’t been obliterated and formed anew thousands of times. Your fingers twitch. His body, though colder than the average person’s, emits just enough warmth to indicate life. You feel the raised, textured skin that’s present above his every vital organ. It speaks of untold horrors; untold suffering.

His chest rumbles as he says, “If I’ve no choice but to live… you’d make for a worthwhile reason.”

You rest your forehead against his chest and squeeze your eyes shut.

Kafka… are you sure it isn’t my feelings that’re in the most danger?

A/N: owing to mental illness, aside from nexus, i devised another storyline for (slightly) less unhinged blade, this time with a stellaron hunter reader. while it has the material to make a series, i don't plan on starting up another multi-chaptered work until i make further progress into my current project 😭 still, i'm happy to talk about it if anyone's curious! here are some tidbits that give additional story context for this universe:

reader isn't super thrilled to be a stellaron hunter. a desperate situation ended in them joining the ranks. they're the emanator of the aeon of illumination, whose name i'm still undecided on. essentially, they're a 'consumer of stars,' capable of absorbing + storing well. you guessed it. stars. as you can imagine, this ability can provide immeasurable energy or devastation depending on its usage.

as a consequence, when reader's performing the sealing process, they're extremely vulnerable. it isn't exactly subtle, people tend to notice when their nearby sun is going cyaaaaaa ✌ and try to stop them. that's where bladie comes in. he kills anything and anyone that threatens them.

ethos is a pretty meadow planet that's known for harvesting clean energy (hydro, solar, wind) and using minimum technology. most of its inhabitants go their entire lives without ever seeing a computer. long distance communication is carried out through a dedicated fleet of carrier pigeons.

illij is a laissez-faire paradise. consumerism galore. ads projected in the night sky, ads projected in your dreams in certain low income areas where people can't afford space adblock™. it's a lot but sometimes reader appreciates the distraction.

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #stellaron hunters x reader #hsr blade #reader insert #blade brainrot #my stuff

547 notes · View notes