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#crosshair has heart
lothkittyyt · 2 months
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He called him Omega's Dad.
He called him Omega's Dad.
He called him Omega's Dad.
He called him Omega's Dad.
I want more
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blairaptor · 6 months
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some Crosshairs 🎯
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i am NEVER getting over this
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fanfoolishness · 30 days
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Ill-fitted (The Bad Batch)
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Crosshair prepares for his first mission after the fall of Kamino, but something feels wrong with his armor. ~1000 words, set during the beginning of The Solitary Clone. A study of angst, guilt, and denial (AKA the Crosshair special).
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The new armor is identical to his last set, down to every detail; the slight asymmetry in an inner seam, the pleasing snap of the cuisses joining the knee plates, the hue of the green transparisteel of the visor.  Crosshair straps his armor over his blacks, piece by piece.  Vambraces, pauldrons, cuirass, greaves.  He is methodical and careful in this, as he is everything, and slowly, finally, he begins to feel a soldier again.  
Except… the armor rubs across the shoulders, a centimeter loose.
He frowns, ducking his head, rolling his shoulders.  He shrugs experimentally, but the armor still sits wrong.  
It is a small thing.  Nearly imperceptible.  Wrecker would have never noticed the difference.  Echo would have gone back to the armor’s specs.  Tech would likely have found a clever way to alter it on the fly.  Hunter would have --
His nostrils flare, lips narrowing.  Crosshair shakes his head, face twisting into a grimace.
He must have put it on slightly crooked.  The armor is exactly the same make and design as before.  There is no reason it would have changed.  He stands up straighter, jutting his chin out, tugging at the plate around his neck.
Still loose.
Perhaps it’s not the armor.  Perhaps it’s him.
The hunger gnaws at him, a raw pithing agony --
He tries pacing the platform to distract himself, but it’s getting harder and harder.  He’s so tired now, and the platform pitches and bucks around him, spinning dizzily in the Kaminoan downpour --
He holds out a weak hand to the ship in the distance, and through his haze he can see every tendon mapped, the sharp jutting of the knuckles, the sickly translucence of the skin --
Crosshair swallows.  Medical cleared me.  He’s fine.  They told him he was fine.
He decides to ignore the loose fit across the shoulders.  He will take it to the armory after this mission; he’s due to meet his new commander soon, and there is no time for something so trivial.  Rampart’s dig about his unreadiness to command again flickers in the back of his mind, but he ignores that, too.  If this is what they ask of him, he is ready to comply.
He reaches for his helmet, places it squarely on his head.  His vision swims green.  The visor, perfectly narrow and rectangular, shifts his sight and trains his focus.  
But there is still no extra cutout for his right eye.  Before Kamino he had submitted four requisitions asking for an alteration to the helmet, and all had been denied.  He stifles his disappointment.  They have their reasons, he is certain.
Though Crosshair still remembers working with the Kaminoans and his squad, pooling ideas and designs for customized armor and weaponry that would make their enhancements shine.  They’d been feverish with excitement: Wrecker crowing about materials with increased durability and explosive resistance, Hunter sketching out endless designs for the knife in his gauntlet, Tech waxing rhapsodic about the helmet and goggle system he’d been dreaming of for two years.  Crosshair remembers his own requests, his voice steady and sure, filled with the proud certainty that he knew his own abilities and exactly how to boost them.  
They’d had their requests granted, every one.  When the new armor arrived they’d stayed up half the night in their barracks, gleefully trying out every modification until the regs shouted at them to keep it down.  
He reaches up and touches his left pauldron.  His gloved fingers brush over its smooth edges, perfectly alike to the right.
They have their reasons….
He picks up his rifle.  A replacement 773 Firepuncher, its balance inspired, its weight and heft as familiar as his own arm.  He should feel whole, holding it.  Restored.  Ready to be of service again at last. Yet its weight in his hand does not steady him the way he had expected.
He pushes past the feeling.  No matter; the mission calls.  Desix and his new commander await, and with them an opportunity to serve the Empire.  He opens the door to his room, ready to take it.
The hallway outside his quarters flows with regs in white and black.  They march lockstep down the corridor, their boots a steady rhythm like a heartbeat.  It irritates him, the sound unpleasant in his ears.  He follows at his own pace behind a squad of ten, keeping his gaze down on the floor, and his ill-fitting armor rubs against his neck.
The First Battle Memorial towers above him.  He spares it barely a glance, its sea of names having little to do with him, and situates himself near one end to await the meeting with his new commander.  He slips off his helmet and stands stock still, tucking the helmet beneath one arm as he rests the butt of his rifle against the floor.  
More regs hurry past him, ready to go where they’re needed.  They have their orders.  He has his --
Good soldiers follow orders.
Good soldiers follow orders.
A pressure building in his head, a voice he doesn’t recognize but knows within his bones, the order -- he was meant for this -- they all were -- why don’t they see it?  An ache, confusion, anger rising in his chest, a ringing in his head, what’s happening to him -- 
All he ever wanted was to be a good soldier --
His shoulders slump slightly.  He’d done what needed doing.  He would have done it without the chip, if they’d have asked.  He’ll prove it.  What’s loyalty, after all, without action?
You weren’t loyal to me.  
But they hadn’t seen it that way --
His chest aches, heavy beneath his ribs, and it has nothing to do with the fit of his armor.
Crosshair stands silently beneath the great memorial, the golden light softening everything in view.  The regs march on past, side by side, footsteps echoing in the vast hall.  He shifts his weight and draws himself up to his full height.
He stands alone.  The shadows pool around him, and he waits to go and keep the peace.
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In honor of the very annoying spam/scam call I just got, here's a random thought I had as a result of being interrupted in the middle of running errands when it's 115°F outside.
Tech would be the best/worst person you could possibly call by accident or try to scam, respectively.
On the subject of wrong-number calls
Dependent on what he's in the middle of, I can see Tech stopping, kindly explaining they have the wrong comm frequency, and then doing one of the following:
Being helpful- "I'm afraid this is not the number for the parts store. But... Might I recommend their competitor? Oftentimes there are more selections in their capacitors than the store that shows up highest in results from the Holonet. ... Yes you are quite welcome."
Being very helpful- "... You're doing an academic project on Aiwhas? How much would you like to know? I have researched them quite extensively, I would be happy to assist!"
He's not gonna have the heart to tell someone he's not their grandson. He'll chat with them briefly before saying he has to go and then he'll promptly find a way to get in contact with who this "Ms. Helios on Tattooine" meant to call and let them know that their grandmother could use a visit.
Shut up, it was the polite thing to do.
On the subject of scam calls
Oh boy, this one he could have fun with. You're going to waste his valuable time? (And he's in a mood now that you've thrown off his groove? He was in the middle of a helmet repair and recalibration!)
He might hang up on them.
He might give it to Crosshair to deal with once he's sure he is not about to curse out some poor kid below legal galactic age.
Tech might call them out on their banthashit if he's in a Mood™. "I've been tracking your location as we speak. You are calling from the lower levels of Courasaunt, which is nowhere near Florrum. Nor am I anywhere near Florrum. In fact , I'm-"
Hunter's shouting from the front of the Maurader to just hang up and go back to sleep!
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roadara23 · 1 year
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The Bad Batch Season 2 starts today,
And I will be thinking of no-one, and nothing, else for the rest of the year.
Thank you.
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wayward (grand)daughter 5
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(under a cut for gore and some PTSD hints)
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Pain, his world was pain oh gods it hurt it hurt Halone it hurt-he could feel the teeth sinking in his armor was breakinghisarmorwasbreakinghisarmorwasbreaking-he could hear the bones crunching and snapping and his right leg felt looseitfeltloose--
Mathye’s eyes snapped open.  For several seconds he stared up at the ceiling, unseeing, trapped in the remnants of the memory-nightmare, wheezing--
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<Mathye!>
Hrist’s voice breaking through the terror, galvanizing the ex-dragoon to bolt straight up, panting.  Soft cotton registered on his fingers-with the all too familiar scent of medicine and sterility--
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<Mathye, breathe!  It’s okay! You’re safe!>
He could feel Hrist’s scales, warm on his neck, shoulders, her coils constricting around his chest and ribs.  Mathye dragged in a deep breath, closing his eyes as the memory finally let go.  Next to his ear and in his mind, Hrist continued to croon, a low song of comfort.
“I’m...alright.”  He wasn’t out in Corethas.  He wasn’t in his armor.  He wasn’t in the jaws of a dragon.  He was... Trembling, Mathye looked around.
...Congregation infirmary.  He was in one of the more private rooms, normally set aside for those whose wounds were the most dire.  And the reason why he was there...  Mathye let his gaze drop.  His left leg was hale and whole, bandaged with only the occasional throb of pain.  The right...
Oh yeah.  A fucking bomb went off next to me.   All that remained of his prosthetic leg was the socket that made up the rest of his lower right thigh.  Mathye sighed, shoulders drooping.
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“Always nice to revisit the original horror.”  He muttered.  He’d not had the memory-turned nightmare in a while--of when he’d almost lost his original right leg.  The injury that had permanently both disabled and grounded him.
<You’re cold.  Here.>  Warmth bloomed over Mathye’s upper body, both inside and out.  The healer closed his eyes, letting the dragonfire seep in, hoping it would kill the chills that currently just didn’t want to stop making him shudder and shake.  That was another thing he remembered...how cold it had been...
No, don’t.
“Hrist.”  Mathye got out. “What-”
<We’re in the Congregation infirmary.  You were in critical condition for two days.  That trap not only destroyed our leg, but it cut the artery in your thigh.>  Mathye blinked in surprise at that-focusing back on his legs.  He’d not noticed it before-but there was a bandage tightly wrapped around what remained of the original limb.
“Was I bleeding out?”
<Enough that they didn’t want to risk teleporting you, plus the shock of losing the prosthetic.  I only just regained my senses a while ago.> Mathye inhaled, putting a hand to his head.  The mention of his condition was enough to jolt his brain partly into healer mode, a distraction Mathye was only all too grateful for.  Another surge of dragonfire, and his senses immediately sharpened.  Now in addition to the smells of the infirmary, there was...  Mathye gasped, and turned his head.
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Oh.  Sprawled about on spare mattresses and blankets were the rest of his family.  Riven’s sandalwood and rose smell was right next to his bed, she was curled up in a small ball on a futon.  Reinhardt’s dragonfire and winter scent was against the wall, he’d dozed off while leaning against it.  Augustine’s amber and smoked-wood was on his other side, and Sebastian’s aether and gunpower was at the foot of his bed.  The sight made Mathye’s stomach twist a bit funny, and he looked down as a surge of emotions welled up inside him.  Hrist crooned again, and Mathye could feel a small tongue lick one of his cheeks.
<They haven’t left.  Well, rather, they have been leaving, mostly for food and to get some air when the others force them too.  I awoke to Paien singing for us.>  
“They should be resting properly.”  Mathye mumbled.  His stomach was still doing that funny twist.  The medic closed his eyes.
“What happened?”  He said aloud.  “I remember...the Crystaline Conflict match.  It’d just started, we were running towards the center, and then...”
<That’s as much as I remember as well.  There shouldn’t have been anything on the path, the match hadn’t officially started and the safeties should have been in effect.>  Mathye’s eyes narrowed as something clicked into place in his mind.
“The safeguards weren’t activated?”  He asked.
<Isn’t that the logical conclusion?  Otherwise how else would have that trap been placed there?>  Hrist was silent for several moments, before she continued.
<Not to mention... we weren’t even supposed to be in the match originally.>
“Right.”  Mathye breathed.  “We replaced Riven.”  Seven hells.  Had someone set the bomb for her instead?  Against the wall, Reinhardt started awake, shaking his head.  Noticing the black-haired man, he gasped.
“Mathye!  You’re awake!”
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wayward (grand)daughter 1, 2, 3, 4
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ct-hardcase · 1 year
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I have to say, the payoff for Echo and Wrecker being my favorite batchers has absolutely sucked so far
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nadvs · 21 days
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watch and learn (part seven)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use
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summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
The next morning, you sleep in, recovering from the party. Your head is still foggy as you scroll through your phone in bed, thinking about last night.
You spent a lot of time with Blake. He was nice and charming and all you did was talk and share innocent touches. He’s nothing but green flags.
Yet your mind kept reminding you of Rafe. And it kept replaying the sight of him kissing another girl.
Something between you two shifted the other day, when you dropped by after his dad’s visit. You agreed that you were friends. And then did something that friends definitely don’t do.
Then, of course, he took a few days to be a jerk. But last night, he mustered up a sorry for you, flirting with you again.
It’s almost like he’s leaving breadcrumbs, making you think he has feelings, with the possessiveness and the compliments and the looks he gives you. But time and time and time again, Rafe proves to you that he’s a douchebag who’s not looking for anything more than sex.
And neither are you, you remind yourself. Not with Rafe. He would break your heart if given the chance. And you’re not giving him the chance.
You see a text from Rafe from a couple of hours ago: you up?
You reply: i am now.
You open Instagram to see that Blake posted a story a few minutes ago. It’s a photo of a sign on the side of a building. He’s at a paintball range with his frat brothers. It must be another bonding event.
The text on the photo reads: let’s goooo red team.
You reply to the story: putting all my money on the red team.
He responds: I’ll win for you :)
Rafe has never played paintball before, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. His gun is loaded with blue pellets and he has Blake in his sights before the starting bell even rings.
This will be the best way to release his anger over the fact that he’s losing you. Well, other than getting naked with you and fucking until he can’t think straight. But you weren’t answering your phone this morning. So, this’ll do.
The field is vast under the cloudy sky, cluttered full of obstacles and barriers and embankments. When the game starts, Rafe has one goal and one goal only.
He hates how you were smiling at Blake last night. He hates how you touched his shoulder. How you laughed. How close you were.
Mere minutes into the game, he’s behind a colorfully splattered wall and finally finds Blake in his crosshairs. His finger presses down on the trigger over and over and over again, each pop loud and echoing, coating the front of Blake’s vest with bright blue drops of paint.
“Jesus, Rafe, I think you got him, man!” one of his teammates shouts with a laugh.
Even though one of his buddies on the red team nails Rafe in his arm a couple of times near the end of the round, the game ends in a blue team victory.
As the boys make their way back into the building, Blake shoves Rafe’s shoulder.
“The fuck was that, Cameron?” Blake asks, pointing to his vest, sheathed in blue. His smile is wide, but his tone is sharp. He’s trying to hide it, but he seems actually pissed off. Good.
“My bad, man,” Rafe half-chuckles, lifting his helmet off his head. “Got lost in the game. I love to win.”
The high from winning this stupid game is so intensely gratifying that Rafe wants to keep beating Blake in everything. Including in getting your attention.
When Rafe checks his phone as they leave the range, he sees you finally responded. He’s craving you now, but he’ll see you in a few hours at tonight’s party. And he wants Blake to see you with him.
He was stupid to think he could stay away from you. He’s going to see you as many times as you let him before your touches with Blake have more meaning behind them.
The “anything but clothes” party is slated to start at the Sigma Chi house in a few minutes. You and Liv decide to show up right on time to hang out with the guys and drink before the liquor runs out.
You made a stop at a party store off-campus to buy rolls of caution tape together, deciding to wrap the bright yellow nylon into haphazard tube tops and mini skirts, stuck together with clear packing tape. You’re careful so that the sticky tape is only on the caution tape, not directly touching any skin at all.
When you enter the house, you follow the noise in the kitchen. A group of frat boys are in the dining room, setting up the keg and putting out cups.
Blake and Rafe are standing with four other guys, talking as they set up.
Rafe should’ve put more effort into what he wore. He has a towel around his hips and when you walk in wearing next to nothing, he regrets it immediately. A boner would be way too fucking obvious.
Blake greets you with a side-hug and Rafe cracks his knuckles under the table.
“Hey, how was paintball?” you ask. “Did you win?”
“Lost and I’m wounded.” Blake’s wearing a plastic bag over his chest and another around his hips. He puts his hand over his sternum, the bag crinkling beneath his fingers.
“What the hell happened?” you laugh, placing your hand on his. He pretends to wince in pain when you touch him, making you laugh again. The sight makes Rafe scowl.
“Rafe went all Scarface on him,” Sam says. You look to Rafe, and at the same time, glass shatters in the kitchen behind you.
“Shit!” a guy shouts.
“So glad tomorrow’s thing is outside,” Blake mumbles. “This place is a mess and it’s only gonna get worse.”
“What’s tomorrow?” you ask.
“Family day,” Sam says. “We’re having a barbecue.”
“Do you guys have something going on every weekend?” Liv asks.
“Pretty much,” Blake in a bragging tone.
“And when do you study?” you say.
“During the week, fun police,” Blake mumbles with a playful smile. You hate the label and think back to a conversation you had with him over text about nicknames.
“Don’t call me that, babe,” you respond. Blake told you before that he loathes being called babe.
Rafe doesn’t know you’re saying it ironically. And he’s trying not to lose his mind. He looks down at his beer and takes another sip.
A moment passes and he doesn’t notice that Blake is trying to get his attention until he realizes seven pairs of eyes are on him.
“What?” Rafe asks.
“Who are you bringing tomorrow?” Blake repeats.
“I’m not coming.” Rafe can’t imagine even mentioning the event to anyone in his family.
“What? Why not?” Blake says. “I need to meet who raised you to be so fucking competitive.”
Rafe looks away the same way he did when you confronted his dad for yelling at him. It’s not exactly annoyance in his expression, like you’re used to seeing. It’s discomfort. Embarrassment.
You don’t want anyone to grill him. Not about his family. You can still hear the way his father snapped at him, asked what he was crying for.
“Sounds like you’re just mad that you’re such an easy target,” you say to Blake, primarily to take everyone’s eyes off of Rafe.
You earn a few jeers, heads turning back in your direction. Rafe’s eyes find yours and you glance at him to see a softened expression, the hard lines in his face suddenly gone.
“I’d like to see you try to play paintball,” Blake says.
“Yeah, you’re really selling it,” you respond sarcastically, snapping your gaze back to meet his.
“What other events do you guys have planned?” Liv asks.
As Blake goes into the schedule for the rest of the year - including a community service drive, a Sadie Hawkins formal, and a camping trip - Rafe can’t keep his eyes off of you.
He can’t forget how you stood up to his father, a total stranger, and told him to calm down. He can’t forget how happy your silly little gift made him.
Maybe you were just flirting with Blake, but he wonders if you purposely took the attention off of him, knowing what you know about his family.
You two are friends that have great sex, he knows that, but he’s staring at you like you’re more. You can be irritating and a tight-ass, but you’re kind and thoughtful, too.
Rafe looks away. These thoughts make him uneasy all over. He’s not a feelings kind of guy. And Blake is so obviously your type and Rafe is nothing like him.
He’s not stupid. Anything more than sex between you two would be ridiculous.
The house fills up with partygoers quickly, air thickening, music loud and conversations even louder.
Later on in the night, Rafe’s buzzed and standing by the keg, watching you dance with your friend. The way you roll your hips reminds him of how you move when you’re on top of him and he needs to force himself to look away before he gets hard. Again.
Eventually, he notices you head towards the back of the house alone and he takes the opportunity to talk to you.
When you leave the bathroom and head down the dark hallway back towards the party, you notice Rafe leaning by the wall, a beer bottle in his hand. There’s only a handful of people around, engaging in quiet, private conversation as the music throbs around you.
“Hey,” he says. He wishes he thought of something more clever to say, but he’s pretty close to being drunk.
It’s kind of sweet that he’s waiting here for you. But then you remind yourself he’s just horny.
“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting down his athletic body and to the navy blue towel sitting at his hips. “Pretty lazy of you to use a towel.”
“Nah, it’s smart,” he quips. “That tape is perfect for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say.
“You can read, can’t you?” Rafe simply says, his hand ghosting over the bold CAUTION on your chest. You look down at the way his long fingers just barely brush over your breasts, imagining the way they were massaging you earlier this week.
The reminder sends a swirl of warm passion in your core. You want him again. And again. And again.
“Are you trying to say I’m dangerous? I’m not the one attacking people during an innocent game of paintball.”
“I got hit, too, okay?” Rafe complains. He brings his right arm forward, showing you his flexed bicep.
“I don’t see anything,” you laugh.
“These red marks are turning into bruises,” he says, pointing to his skin. “I’ll need you to take care of me.”
“I think you’re just being a fuckboy,” you respond.
Rafe’s smirk is playful and inviting and you realize you’re only inches away from each other, eyes connected and smiles mirrored.
You want to see him naked again. Neither of you had any pointers last time you hooked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re done learning, right?
“I’ve never gotten a ‘you up?’ text at ten in the morning,” you say. Admittedly, you were a little dejected that he didn’t reply to your message earlier today.
“You woke up late,” Rafe says, eyebrows quirking up for a second. “When’d you even get home?”
In reality, he wants to know if you were with Blake. He didn’t see you at last night’s party after he made out with a girl just to unsuccessfully make you jealous. Maybe you messed around with Blake and stayed up late with him.
“I don’t remember,” you admit with a defeated laugh. “I think I need to cool it on the partying. You frat boys never stop. I can’t believe how many things you guys have going on.”
Rafe breathes a sardonic chuckle, looking down, and you’re immediately reminded of tomorrow’s event.
Just like that, the air between you shifts. You’re both thinking of the same thing. You’re painfully aware of it.
Silence settles between you and you nervously scratch your arm.
“I wouldn’t want to bring him, either,” you finally say. Rafe’s eyes meet yours. He instantly knows you’re talking about his father.
Now he’s sure you weren’t just carrying on conversation with Blake earlier. You purposely took the attention off of him. Because you’re friends. Friends help each other.
“Yeah,” is all Rafe can say.
“Did you…” you say softly. “Do you not have anyone else you’d want to come?”
Rafe thinks of his life back home. His father, who never shies away from expressing his disappointment. His step-mother, who he has no relationship with. Sarah, who’s the clear favorite. Wheezie, who Rafe actually likes and sort of misses, but wouldn’t be able to visit on her own.
“No,” he admits. “It’s… I don’t have that kind of family.”
“Must be why you’re into this whole frat thing,” you say. You can’t stop yourself from trying to understand his complexities.
Rafe didn’t think about it that way. But the sense of camaraderie he has with his frat brothers, except for one in particular, does give him a sense of belonging he’s been chasing forever. He didn’t even realize it until you said it.
But that’s what you do. You make him think and feel things he hasn’t before and it’s so uncomfortable and exciting at the same time.
“You’re…” Rafe tugs at his earlobe. “You’re a really nice person.”
“What?” You laugh in disbelief. Is he being sweet to you outside of the bedroom?
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he says. “When he asked me why I’m not going tomorrow, you changed the subject.”
He can’t say Blake’s name.
“Guilty,” you say. You settle into eye contact that’s unlike anything you two have shared before. Rafe huffs, wanting to force away the tension sitting in his chest.
“I think you’re into this whole frat thing, too, by the way,” he says. He leans even closer to you, blue eyes focused on your lips.
“Not at all,” you joke, shaking your head. “I hate you guys.”
“Really,” Rafe mutters, his tone low. “Even me?”
“Especially you.”
“You don’t remember what you said last time we fucked? When I asked if I could put it in?”
Your skin burns as you think back to the way he asked you if you were ready before burying into you.
“You must be thinking about another girl,” you say. He won’t even entertain the thought.
“You said please,” he rasps.
“Well, at least I have manners,” you reply, looking him in the eye as anticipation curls in your stomach, refusing to shy away.
“You gonna beg me for it again?”
“I did not beg,” you respond.
You want to tease him even more, tell him you thought you were experts now, so what’s the point of hooking up anymore? But you don’t need it to be instructional to have sex with him. He doesn’t seem to need it, either.
“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about liking it.” His smirk is taunting. This cracks you, a smile spreading on your face again, your eyes trailing down his bare chest.
“Maybe,” you tease. It’s a lie. You’re not shy at all anymore. The sense of shame you felt around sex before is gone. At least with Rafe, it has.
“How can you be shy when you’re wearing that?” Rafe asks. “Showing fucking everything.”
“You’re one to talk,” you say, nose crinkling. The way you cock your head as you gaze at his body, your lashes fluttering as you blink, makes his gut warm and his groin tighten. Wow. He really doesn’t even need to touch you to get hard.
“And don’t act like you don’t like my outfit,” you say, meeting his eyes again. You shock yourself with your forwardness. He looks pleasantly surprised, too.
You hear your name being shouted. Liv rushes towards you, hands pressed over her chest.
“My tape broke,” she laughs. “I almost flashed everyone.”
“Really?” you gasp. Rafe is annoyed that you got interrupted, but he finds that he really likes what caring for somebody looks like on you. Your eyes deepen. Your brows lower. Your guard is down. You’re stunning.
“We should’ve brought extra tape,” Liv says.
“We can borrow a shirt,” you suggest. “Let’s find Blake.”
Rafe is seething. Blake. Of fucking course.
You offer Rafe a tight smile before taking your friend’s hand and walking in front of her to shield her.
When you find Blake, he leads you and Liv upstairs to his room, scrambling through his dresser to find a shirt for Liv.
“I’m not gonna get kicked out for wearing clothes, am I? It’s against the rules,” Liv says.
“No, only ‘cause you’re friends with fun police over here,” Blake replies, smiling over his shoulder as he hands a black shirt to Liv. “Special privileges.”
“I told you not to call me that,” you say with a laugh. Liv pulls the shirt over her head.
“Thanks!” she calls as she walks out of the room, a grin on her face. You know she’s purposely leaving you alone with Blake.
You meet Blake’s eyes, standing in the middle of his quiet, private room.
“Study fort’s gone,” you notice, looking down at his bare floor.
“Oh. Yeah,” he says stiffly. It’s awkward between you and you’re not sure why. “You look…”
Blake doesn’t finish his sentence. You knew he was a bit on the shy side, but he’s actually nervous.
You would normally find it endearing. But because of the intoxicating way Rafe was talking to you downstairs, how he’s so unafraid of telling you how attracted he is to you, you feel tense around Blake for the first time.
Still, intrigue coarses through you. You like him. You want him to flirt with you and to touch you and to finally kiss you. But he’s still.
Rafe spots your friend in the crowd with a t-shirt on. And you’re not next to her. He pushes through people to stand beside Liv and ask her where you are.
“Upstairs with Blake,” Liv simply responds. Rafe glances up the staircase, lips twisting as he nods. He stalks away, storming through the house with no real idea of where to go.
He paces around for a few minutes. He wants to rush upstairs and hurt Blake. Badly. Without a paintball gun this time. The thought of you being up there in his room, of his hands on you, of him on top of you… It’s too much. He’s grinding his teeth so hard that it hurts.
Rafe has had enough. He heads back towards the front of the house, not sure what the hell he’ll do if he walks in on Blake on top of you, but before he can go upstairs, he sees you in the crowd, chatting with your friend.
“I left you alone up there for a reason,” Liv says quietly when you approach her.
“Oh, I’m aware,” you laugh. “But the vibe was weird, so I left. I think we were both nervous.”
After Blake couldn’t finish his sentence, you thanked him for helping your friend and split.
“Do you not like him?” Liv asks.
You do. But you think you like someone else, too. And it’s terrifying.
Rafe weaves through the crowds, approaching you, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You watch him duck to speak into your ear.
“Leave with me,” he says so only you can hear him over the music. You look at Liv, who has a sly, knowing expression on her face.
“I can’t abandon my friend just to hook up with you,” you say to him. A painful pang of rejection twists inside him.
“But do you want to?” Rafe asks. He needs to be sure. What if your next words are that you’re with Blake now?
Your pulse is racing. The promise of another night with Rafe is electrifying.
“Yes,” you admit. He smiles to himself, pulling back to look at Liv.
“You gonna be okay if she leaves?” Rafe says, tilting his head towards you.
“Of course, if she wants to,” Liv replies with an amused laugh.
Rafe pulls you towards him, out of the crowd. And for once, he’s actually glad to see Blake, who’s standing by the keg with a few friends.
He wraps his arm around your waist, mumbling to you that he’s going to rip that stupid tape off of you, as he glares at Blake, who’s staring at you two with a disconcerted grimace.
He leads you out of the rowdy house, grip tight on you as if he could lose you again.
The second you’re in Rafe’s dorm room, his hands are on your ass, fingers dipping under the tape. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing him heatedly as you stand by his bed.
You can smell his cologne and his shampoo as his tongue runs over yours.
“You know everyone was looking at you tonight, right?” he says between kisses.
“No,” you scoff. While he’s helped you gain some confidence, you can’t imagine thinking of yourself as the most desired girl in a room.
“I told you not to do that,” he says against your lips. You feel the nylon around your ass lift off your skin as he tugs it away, pulling apart the material, tape unsticking.
“Do what?” you mutter. He grips your ass, feeling the fabric of your underwear on his palms. You lower a hand to undo the knot keeping up the towel on him.
“You pretend like you’re not beautiful and it pisses me off,” he says. Beautiful. He said hot before. But not beautiful. He never used that word with you. “How hard do I have to fuck you for you to get it?”
“Rafe,” you gasp with a giggle.
“How hard?” he asks. “Until you can’t talk?”
His towel drops and he kisses your neck, tugging at the tape bound around your chest. You shift to wrap your hand around his length over his boxers, aching for the feeling of him inside of you.
Rafe loves that you touch him like this now, without any hesitation. He rips the tape off of your chest, his fingers burning.
While you wore panties just in case, you’re glad you went without a bra simply because of the way Rafe breathes when he looks down to see your bare chest.
He fondles your tits with eager, rough movements, squeezing as he clenches his jaw.
“Every guy was staring at you, but only I get to do this.” His lips are against your neck, breath hot.
You tense for a second. He shouldn’t say shit like this. His words are possessive and tender and way too fucking heavy.
But you push yourself out of your head, focusing on how you feel physically, forgetting the emotions that have slowly been tacking themselves onto you like the crumpled tape on the floor.
You dip your hand into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his girth. Rafe inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. You drag your hand to his tip, feeling the warm precum and spreading it with your thumb.
“Fuck,” he groans.
“You like that?” you whisper with a smile. It’s exciting talking like this. You were always quiet when hooking up with a guy, but Rafe has pushed you completely out of your shell.
“Get on my bed,” he says gruffly, pressing your hips back. You lie down, watching his cock spring out of his boxers when he tugs them off.
Rafe almost asks to skip the condom, but it feels too intimate. Too serious. And he’s sure you’d say no.
You pull your panties off as he rolls on the latex and gets on his knees, sinking onto the mattress, hands gripping your ankles. He shifts and rests your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hands skimming down your legs.
He drags a thumb over your wet clit, gazing down at you with yearning as he spreads your slick arousal over you. You moan at the sensation, realizing just how sensitive you are from how long it’s been and how much you missed him.
“You’re fucking soaked,” Rafe rasps. “Who got you like this, baby?”
“You did,” you reply. The words coming out of your mouth are so fucking soothing. He can’t think about anyone else doing this to you. Only him.
Rafe pulls his hand off of you to grip your thigh and holds his cock at its base with his other hand, tapping it over your middle. You look at him, eyes meeting in an exquisite, mutual longing.
“Say please,” he teases.
“You say please,” you reply, smirking. Rafe shakes his head in disbelief and awe and desire, his hair falling over his forehead.
He can’t wait. He guides himself into you, slipping in so easily, feeling just how drenched and tight and warm you are. He groans as you take him in with a deep breath, tilting to feel the curve of his cock.
“That’s so fucking nice,” he whispers, watching himself push into you. “Your pussy is so fucking nice.”
His fingers dig into your thigh as he pulls back and pushes in again. You throw your head back as he shoves himself into you, filling you completely, the pressure hard and incredible.
Rafe’s thumb is on your clit again, rubbing in circles as he thrusts, making you tremble. Your mouth is agape, your hands above your head as he pleasures you.
It’s such a phenomenal view to him. Pleasure written on your face, your tits bouncing, your chest heaving, your body jolting.
You feel your stomach tighten, the rising sensation making you moan. Rafe starts to go harder, rubbing faster, a smile curling on his lips as he watches you.
“I…” you breathe. “Fuck, I…”
“Can’t talk?” he rasps, amused. You bite your bottom lip and moan a giggle, willing yourself to look at him before he has to tell you to.
His gaze is piercing into you as you feel yourself dissolve into ecstasy, your body going numb before it heats with the most amazing feeling you’ve ever had.
Rafe feels you clenching around his cock and he leans over to get as deep into you as possible, your legs bending as his shoulders push you forward.
After you come down from your orgasm, he places his hand on your cheek, dipping his thumb into your mouth.
You stare at him as he drives into you and you wrap your lips around his thumb, tasting yourself. Rafe might just go crazy. You take him so much better than he’s ever had before.
He tightens and you watch the euphoria wash over his face, his brows furrowing and his lips parting. You love that you can do this to him, that a man so commanding and dominant and brash crumbles like this when he’s inside you.
He cums in hard pulses, hips bucking with every jerk, seeing stars. When he slowly pulls out, you close your eyes, sighing in pleasure.
Your palms rest over your eyes, feeling high off the feeling as you feel him shift off the mattress. When you catch your breath, you open your eyes to see Rafe offering you a towel.
“You have fun?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to do the whole aftercare thing, but because it’s not genuine, you’d rather not play along.
It’s clear he wants you to leave with the way he’s holding out the towel, surely wishing you’d cover up and go. You’re not surprised. You sit up, taking the towel and wrapping it around your body.
“C-minus,” you say.
“What?”
“Kidding,” you laugh. You stand to leave and decide to let him deal with the mess of caution tape on his floor, desperate to be alone so you can pull yourself together.
You go so suddenly that Rafe watches his door shut with confusion. He thought you’d wipe yourself down with the towel he gave you, maybe sit a while with him.
He oddly wanted you to stay a little bit. He liked joking around with you earlier tonight. It was fun.
But you were so eager to go. Probably because Rafe is the kind of guy you fuck and forget, and Blake is the kind of guy you make love to and stick around for.
He knows that he’s in a competition he’ll eventually lose because he can’t offer you a relationship. You said yourself he’d be the worst boyfriend ever the night he told you not to cuddle him.
But he’ll happily take these nights with you for as long as possible. And he’ll keep fighting for as many as he can.
When you make it to your dorm, you sit on your bed, breathless. Just when you think the sex can’t get any better with Rafe, it does.
He almost disappointed you with his lack of emotion afterwards, but you’re glad you didn’t give him the power to. He’ll always let you down in that department. As long as you keep any feelings for him at bay, you know you’ll be fine.
After you feel a bit calmer, you check your phone to see five texts.
Liv: didn’t get a chance to tell you but rafe is down BAD for you
Liv: when i told him you were upstairs with blake he looked like he was about to kill someone
Liv: hope you have fun lol :)
Liv: i sure am… i made out with sam after you left… oops
Then you see a block of text in the next notification.
Blake: Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.
(part eight)
author’s note: thank you anon for this iconic idea!!
if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘
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moonstrider9904 · 19 days
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Even though we didn't see Hunter's reaction at the moment of him finding out about Omega, we do see the aftermath, and let me tell you, Hunter is calm.
Hunter is not lashing out at Crosshair, he is not blaming him either in words or actions, he is not shutting him out, he's not accusing Crosshair of having had any ulterior motives. Even when Rampart and the possibility of finding Tantiss being hidden comes up, Hunter adopts an attitude of wanting to understand. Even when Hunter would have every right to be furious at his brother and deem losing Omega as the last straw, question why in the stars would Crosshair allow such a thing to happen, why has he been hiding things until now, Hunter chooses to understand.
And to have Crosshair tell him that he did not want to go back to Tantiss, while the hand tremor is returning at the very idea, is enough for Hunter. Hunter didn't even need to hear that explicitly, he was already as calm and collected as humanly possible before, which in a situation like the one he's in, takes abnormal amounts of strength.
Hunter's got a heart of gold and a strength to be applauded.
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rainydaydream-gal18 · 1 month
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(The Bad Batch) How He Is with His Newborn Baby
Hunter: He adores them and spends a lot of time holding them. Hunter is also really big on the whole skin-to-skin contact, so it becomes a common thing to see him walking around shirtless with the baby cradled snugly in one arm. He gets pretty good at performing tasks around the home with the baby. He's enraptured by the little one, but also very attentive to your needs. Hunter makes sure you take the time you need to eat, shower, and just have time to relax every now and then. Literally, any excuse to hold them some more, and he's giving it. He is good at rocking the baby in such a way that they fall asleep instantly in his arms.
Wrecker: The baby has him wrapped around their tiny finger already. He's already telling them how much he loves them and how proud he is. Wrecker also just spends time telling them all the fun things they're going to do together when they're old enough to walk, talk, etc. He is so unbelievably gentle and sweet with the little one in general, and also of course with you. He'll randomly stare at you and tell you how beautiful you are and what a good job you're doing.
Tech: This baby is not at the point where they can retain any information yet, but Tech spends plenty of time just talking to them. He talks about anything his mind can conjure up. The baby becomes so accustomed to the sound of his voice that it has quite the soothing effect. Additionally, Tech is very quick to pick up on the baby's cycle of needs. It gets to the point where they cry, and he can glance at his chrono and pinpoint exactly what they need according to the little schedule he's created. He also regularly checks the baby's weight, vitals, to make sure they're in good health. From time to time he voices yet again how fascinating the miracle of birth is and how proud he is of you, also checking your health.
Echo: Spends the first few weeks only holding the baby when sitting down. He can't get over how fragile they are, and he just sits there and stares at them as long as he can in amazement and adoration before they wake up from their nap or fuss about something they need. When the baby bursts into a fit of wails, he goes into a bit of a panic mode worrying about what's wrong. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and gets used to the idea that the baby is just communicating a need. It doesn't take long for him to become a professional dad. He gets pretty organized with the diaper bag and supplies so that he can just pull out whatever the baby needs at the drop of a hat.
Crosshair: He spends a good while just quietly holding the baby in his arms and watching them. Internally, he thinks they're absolutely precious and realizes he loves them so much. He already knew he'd love them, but he didn't realize it would feel like this. The baby is heart-wrenchingly cute, and he'd do anything to protect them. You come to find that he becomes more vocal, telling the baby in a sort of Crosshair-style sarcasm that they need to get their act together every time he has to handle a diaper change, feeding, etc. He's up with you at any hour day or night to help with the baby without a complaint, and regularly makes sure you're taking care of yourself also.
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giganonyx · 27 days
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MY HEART FUCKING DROPPED TO MY ASS WHEN CROSSHAIRS SHOT. DIDNT. MAKE. IT.
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GOD AND POOR WRECKER UGHHHH NOOO. HE TRIED TO SAVE GONKY. HIS PANICKED YELL. IM. CRYING. THE MARAUDER?? MY HOUSE?? BLEW UP?? TECHS GLASSES AND LULA SIGHTING. DOMICILE VOCABULARY DROP(NERD DETECTED?).WE GOT WET HUNTER AND IT WAS SO FUCKING HOT AND HIS HAIR WAS A LITTLE MOIST BUT THEY SHOULD’VE GONE THE EXTRA MILE AND MADE IT ABSOLUTELY DRENCHED, STICKING ON TO HIS SKIN, BANDANA GONE. THEY REALLY TOOK EVERYTHING FROM US THIS EPISODE.
These eps were so SICK and TWISTED I’m. It’s so. It’s so maraudover. Pabover. ALSO EITHER A) THATS TECH, OR B) TECH IS THE ONE THAT HEMLOCK HAS IN HIS SECRET HOUSE OF HORRORS IN THE BACK OF WALMART THAT WE BRIEFLY SAW.
IM SO ILL BYE IM GOING TO REWATCH HUNTER DOING THAT SEXY SPINNY KICK TAKE DOWN THING WHEN HE WAS IN THE GUNSHIP AND HIM EMERGING FROM THE OCEAN AFTER SWIMMING A MILLION MILES (SO HOT BRO).
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nahoney22 · 1 month
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Now or Never***
Hunter X F!Reader
word count: 2.5k
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When Hunter spontaneously kisses you before he goes camping with the others whilst you look after the ship, your mind is set aflame. Both of you think about it and it's either now or never to see if there is a spark there.
warnings: warnings: Not exactly NSFW but is very steamy so 17+ only please. Spontaneous and accidental kiss, making out, brief breast touching, touchy touchy, non established relationship, female reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, first kiss, one curse word.
authors note: a request for my lovely friend 🤍
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"Have you made sure you've packed your canteen, sleeping bag, and comm device?" You stood observing Omega meticulously arranging her belongings in preparation for a camping excursion with her brothers, ensuring she's equipped for the night ahead.
The idea was originally proposed by Wrecker, who eagerly suggested taking Omega on a camping adventure in the wilderness, a proposition unanimously agreed upon by the others—except for you. Camping wasn't exactly your preferred activity.
"Yes, yes, and yes again," Omega confirms, playfully rolling her eyes before turning to you with a smile. "You're worse than Hunter AND Crosshair combined."
You chuckle and kneel down to Omega's level. "I'm not that bad," you tease, tousling her hair affectionately before rising to your feet. "But do be cautious, alright? Don't go picking berries unless you're certain about them."
"I'm not about to repeat Wrecker's mistake," Omega giggles, both of you sharing a fond recollection of the time his hunger led him to inadvertently consume toxic berries, resulting in a nasty rash.
"Are you absolutely certain you can't be persuaded to join us?" Hunter speaks and as you turn to him, you watch as he adjusts his backpack in readiness for the night ahead.
"I'll be fine. Besides, someone needs to stay behind to look after Gonky and the ship," you reply, giving the droid a reassuring pat as it waddles past. "I'll also tidy up around here. I wanna make sure it's neat and tidy for when you return."
A warm smile spreads across Hunter's face as he looks at you, a gesture that has become increasingly frequent lately. "Well, if you insist. Feel free to contact me if you require assistance."
'Me'? Not 'us'?’ you silently ponder, feeling a slight warmth tint your cheeks. "And the same goes for you. Stay safe out there and don't wander off."
"Can we get going before we lose light?" Crosshair interjects with a snarl, positioning himself between you and Hunter with an almost knowing look, as if he's aware of your burgeoning feelings for a particular Sergeant.
Hunter clears his throat, shooting a warning glare at his brother, who momentarily smirks before disembarking the ship, followed by the others. However, Hunter lingers back for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
"Why the sudden protectiveness?" You raise a brow, accompanied by a smirk, though you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
"Just making sure," he reassures, offering another soft smile. "The others seem excited. It's been a while since we've done something like this."
Your heart swells at the sight of him finding peace, even if just for a moment. No empire, no war—just rest. "Well, stop lingering and get going before you lose the others," you prompt, playfully nudging his side with your arm, your touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
"Alright, alright. I'll see you tomorrow," he responds, but as he turns to leave, a brief moment of unexpected stillness descends. Without warning, Hunter reaches out and holds your waist, pulling you gently toward him, and kisses you.
You don’t even have time to react because he pulls back abruptly, eyes wide with shock, and you find yourself mirroring his astonishment.
He quickly releases you, running a clammy hand over the back of his neck. "I... I don't know why I did that."
"O-okay," you breathe shakily, trying to steady your racing heart as you nervously fiddle with your fingers, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy.
"Sorry, I..." he trails off, meeting your gaze once more, his expression a mix of anxiousness and apology.
You gaze back at him, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart almost deafening in the silence between you. "No, it's okay," you manage to exhale shakily, taking a small step back, needing the space to collect your thoughts. "Y-you should really get going."
He nods in understanding, but you can't shake the feeling of uncertainty clouding his expression. Better yet, you’re certain he takes a longing gaze at your lips before snapping out of his trance. "Yeah. Alright. Are… Stars, are we okay?” He asks, a little exasperated. “I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"Go, Hunter," you say just above a whisper, a mixture of confusion and longing tugging at your emotions. "I'll still be here when you get back." Your smile feels forced, genuine bewilderment at how to navigate the spiral of emotions inside you. It all feels like a dream, yet you're not entirely sure if you want to wake up. Or perhaps you do?
Hunter gives you one last lingering look before he turns and leaves, leaving you alone with your tangled thoughts.
Watching him go, you can't help but dread the inevitable awkwardness that awaits you in the morning.
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Hours had slipped by since the departure of the others, and you had kept yourself occupied as best as possible, channeling your energy into cleaning the Marauder. Discarded bolts, half-eaten ration bars, and an array of dust and weapon gear cluttered the interior, making it a challenge to find even a patch of floor. Wiping your brow, you stand back to admire your handiwork, but now what?
"What do you think, Gonky? Nice and clean?"
GONK.
"Yeah, I know," you sigh, sinking into the pilot's seat and propping your legs up on the control dash as you gaze out at the night sky. But try as you might to divert your thoughts, they stubbornly refuse to stray far from the unexpected encounter with Hunter.
There's a lingering tingle on your lips, prompting you to idly lick them as you recall the sensation of his kiss. Your stomach flutters, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration. "It's just a crush... just a crush."
At least, that's what it had started as. Sure, you had found Hunter attractive from the moment you joined the team, but it had been nothing more than a passing admiration. Yet, as the months passed and you grew closer to him, undeniable feelings—on your part, at least—had begun to emerge.
So, the question lingered: why had he kissed you? Was it merely a spontaneous impulse, or was there something more to it? Of course, you couldn't help but hope for the latter, but his immediate apology had left you questioning his intentions.
Suddenly, a rhythmic beeping emanates from one sector of the control panel, jolting you into alertness. You sit forward, inspecting the display, and your blood turns cold as you spot a heat signature approaching. Rising to your feet, you arm yourself and position yourself at the gangplank, ready for whatever may come, your heart pounding with apprehension.
But your fears begin to dissipate as you discern the familiar colors of clone armor in the distance. "Hunter? What are you doing back? Are the others alright?" you call out, relief flooding your voice as you watch him approach.
"Everything's alright, don't worry," Hunter reassures you, his chuckle softening the panic in your voice, though it leaves you feeling more puzzled than reassured.
"What are you doing back then?" you inquire, your stomach fluttering once more as he takes a step closer.
"I came to see you," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was driving me mad."
You swallow hard, feeling the nervous flutter in your stomach as your hands instinctively tuck behind your back. "Oh, Hunter, I told you I'd be fine," you manage to say, though your voice betrays a hint of uncertainty.
"I'm not referring to that," he replies quickly, closing the distance between you with each deliberate step. Your heart races, anticipation and apprehension mingling in equal measure as you realise the true reason for his return. "Your heart's beating so fast for me," he murmurs, his voice a quiet rasp that sends a shiver down your spine.
With each step bringing him closer, the tension between you becomes palpable, and you can feel the electricity crackling in the air.
"Hunter..." you begin, taking a step back to welcome him onto the ship, but your voice trails off as he enters and seals the door to the Marauder shut behind him with a button on his wrist.
"Did you mean to kiss me?" you finally manage to ask, your heart pounding in anticipation.
"No," he admits, his gaze unwavering, but a flicker of excitement dances in your chest as he continues, "but I can't deny that I haven't thought about doing it. Many times."
You're too stunned to respond, the weight of his words leaving you speechless, and you can only watch in disbelief as he closes the distance between you. His hand reaches up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Tell me... if I hadn't pulled away, would you have kissed me back?" he whispers, his voice barely audible but filled with a raw vulnerability that leaves you breathless.
You stare into his eyes, all your uncertainties melting away in the intensity of the moment. Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and press a gentle, swift kiss to his lips, pulling back with a coy smile. "Does that answer your question?"
Hunter's chest rises and falls with a mixture of surprise and longing at your kiss, his hands finding a comfortable place on your hips. "Maybe," he teases in response, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I need to just..." he leans in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours before trailing agonisingly slowly across your cheek and up to your ear.
"Hunter," you gasp silently, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips brush over your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Yes?" he asks innocently, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as it fans over you, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins.
"It's now or never," you whisper breathlessly, your voice barely above a murmur. "Kiss me... kiss me properly."
With a surge of desire, his lips leave your ear and find yours, his hand cupping your jaw as you both surrender to the heated passion between you. Your back presses against the wall of the ship as you eagerly reciprocate, your fingers tangling in his hair with a firm grip as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of each other's touch.
Gone are the smiles and lingering glances, replaced by the urgency of the moment that ignites a fiery passion between you. Both of you are breathless, yet neither of you wants to break away. The kiss is messy, with teeth occasionally clanging together, but it only adds to the raw intensity of the moment.
In a bold move, he lifts your leg and hooks it around his waist, drawing you closer until his body is pressed against yours. Your hands roam over his armor, desperate to remove every barrier between you.
He obliges, a small smirk playing on his lips as he swiftly removes his armor, his lips only briefly parting from yours before he's swallowing your moans once more. "I can't stop kissing you," he grunts, his breathing heavy and intoxicating, sending shivers down your spine.
"Good thing I haven't told you to stop," you growl against his lips, earning a deep groan in response before he deftly maneuvers you onto the floor, crawling over you and enveloping you in his arms.
His tongue dances along your lower lip, seeking entrance that you're willing to grant, but you can't resist the urge to tease him, to show him what he's been missing for so long. Ignoring his plea, you gently bite down on his lip, eliciting a gasp of surprise from him, and seizing the opportunity, you take the lead.
He meets your passion with equal fervor, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. Both of you are panting, and you're grateful that you had cleaned the floor beforehand. "Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs between kisses, his words sending a rush of warmth to your core.
Lips locked, one of his hands slips under your shirt, sending a tingling sensation racing along your skin as his fingers trail along your stomach and up the side of your ribs. Your breath catches in your throat as he continues his exploration, his touch gentle yet electric, until he ever so softly caresses your breast.
A soft gasp escapes your lips at the intimate contact, your body arching instinctively toward his touch as desire courses through you. With each delicate caress, the heat between you intensifies, and you find yourself completely lost in the sensation of his touch.
"More... please," you gasp into his mouth, your body ablaze with desire. He listens to your plea, his hand reluctantly leaving your breast before sliding back down your body. His fingers dance along your skin, teasing along the hem of your waistband, igniting a primal need within you.
Naturally, arousal courses through you, transforming this fleeting moment of passion into something deeper. "I've dreamt about touching you down here," he whispers against your lips, swollen and flushed with desire.
He's on the verge of breaking the barrier, your body eagerly anticipating his touch, when the shrill noise of his comm device, scattered on the floor next to your head, shatters the moment.
He looks at you, then at his comm, and back to you with an apologetic smile. "It's best I get that. Just in case."
You nod in understanding, suddenly feeling shy and bashful. But he doesn't move from above you, instead swiping up his comm and answering the call. "What's the problem?"
"We're heading back. Crosshair ate some of those berries that gave Wrecker a rash last time," Echo's voice echoes loudly in the cabin, interrupting the intimate moment.
"Fantastic. We'll see you soon," Hunter replies, cutting off the call with a sigh of frustration.
Despite the interruption, you can't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Hey," you say softly, reaching up to cup his cheek, "we could do this another time... if you'd like that?"
He chuckles, meeting your gaze with a mixture of longing and gratitude. "I want nothing more than that," he admits, sealing the moment with the gentlest kiss on your lips. "I, uh, I liked this. A lot."
As he helps you sit up, Hunter's movements are gentle yet purposeful, his attention focused on reassembling his gear. Meanwhile, you take a moment to smooth out your hair and adjust your clothing before standing up.
"Hunter?"
Turning to face you, Hunter's gaze is warm yet curious. "Yeah?" he responds, his brow furrowing slightly in anticipation of your next words.
"Thank you," you say softly, sincerity lacing every syllable.
His confusion deepens, prompting him to take a step closer to you, his hand finding its way to your waist as he draws you near. "What for?" he inquires, his eyes searching yours for answers.
Your heart swells at his proximity, and you meet his gaze with a mixture of affection and appreciation.
"For feeling the same way I do."
There were many, many sneaky kisses from then on.
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More Hunter Works
Masterlist
Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan n @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904
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pinkanonwrites · 3 months
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Please please please can you write more about bayverse bee? He’s one of my favs and doesn’t get enough attention cuz of the movies reputation 😭 there’s something rlly charming about him and I can’t even describe it. Definitely feel like he’d be one of the more possessive iterations, and VERY touch starved
God it's been SO LONG since I've watched any of the Bayverse movies but Bayverse Bee holds such a special place in my heart that I pray I can do him justice for these.
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BAYVERSE BUMBLEBEE HCs
Bayverse Bumblebee is both incredibly protective and incredibly possessive of you. He'll throw himself in harms way again and again to keep you safe, the dings and dents and scratches he receives meaning basically nothing to him when he knows it was to keep you safe. He gets jealous pretty easy too, whether it's a human trying to flirt with you or a bot like Crosshairs or Hot Rod getting just a bit too fresh. He's not above blaring his horn or blasting his radio to scare off someone leaning against him to try and get your attention.
Huggy buggy Bee, he loves to hold you and carry you around. Not just in his vehicle-mode either, though he definitely enjoys the feeling of your hands on his steering wheel. His favorite place to have you sit is up onto his shoulder, gripping onto one of his antennae for stability.
I think he's very open about both verbal and physical affection regardless of who's around; he has basically no shame. He flirts with you constantly, regardless of how long you've been in a relationship, and he just melts whenever you do the same. The downside to that is he can be a handsy little motherfucker, even in public. It's hard to focus on whatever the newest government goon is trying to tell the Autobots when Bee is more entertained by the idea of getting his digits up your shirt.
Like basically every other Bee, he loves to take you out for drives. Nothing says "I love you." to a speedster like him than asking to rip around the open desert, blasting whatever rock music is on the radio.
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decembermidnight · 1 month
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Don't lose your focus
Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...
Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader
Word count: 5.7k
Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie
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A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!
Masterlist - Read on Ao3
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Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.
Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.
Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.
Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.
The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.
“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.
After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.
As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him. 
You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.
The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.
“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.
"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.
"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.
You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again. 
"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.
"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.
Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.  
You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.
Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.
"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.
"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.
His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.
As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen. 
When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.
As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus. 
Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate. 
You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.
Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.
“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.
He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.
You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.
Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...
The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.
Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…
When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.
It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.
You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.”  You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.
Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.
“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.
Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?
“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.
“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”
You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.
As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.
Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected.  The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.
As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.
“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.
"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.
"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.
Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.
Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.
As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.
You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his. 
He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.
"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.
You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…
"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.
You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on. 
Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.
"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.
"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.
He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.
"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.
He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man. 
You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.
You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.
He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.
"Hunter–" you sigh.
"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.
The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most. 
You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.
Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.
"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.
One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you. 
"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.
Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.
For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.
"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.
He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.
"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.
Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close. 
"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.
It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.
Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.
The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants. 
You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.
He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.
Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.
Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body. 
Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.
He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.
You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.
"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.
Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear. 
You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.
"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina." 
"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.
A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.
"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.
You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him. 
"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.
The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock. 
Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure. 
"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.
You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels. 
"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"
"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.
“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.
“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.
Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.
"Maker…" you whisper.
You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.
Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that. 
"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts. 
He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.
"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.
"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.
"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine." 
"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.
He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.
"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.
"Is that an order, Commander?"
"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.
The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.
"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.
"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.
Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.
"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.
"Yes, Sergeant," you moan. 
You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.
Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.
"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.
"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.
"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.
"Not yet," he smirks.
Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.
"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.
He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.
"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.
"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.
You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.
Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.
You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.
As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.
You really do make a great team, after all.
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Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)
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eclec-tech · 2 months
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(unsolicited and rambly Hunter defense post under the cut)
I know what people are going to say about this episode--that Hunter didn't do enough and say enough to Crosshair. They're going to say that he should have apologized, hugged him, poured his heart out with tears and promises that he is forgiven and that he will never let him go again.
That's not Hunter.
What we got here was the best we could have hoped for from his character. We got acknowledgement and a willingness to move forward.
These two have had a contentious relationship since we first met them. Both of them are strong leaders. But only one was in charge. That's a difficult dynamic to navigate when you are also a pair of stubborn brothers who don't like to back down.
Hunter wants to trust Crosshair again. That's why he demanded answers. He couldn't just take it from Omega that Crosshair could be trusted again. He needed to hear it from Crosshair himself, because if Crosshair was unwilling to share what had changed during his time in the Empire, Hunter had no basis for establishing trust again. He needed to see that Crosshair was willing to trust him again by giving him answers. But he also knew that Crosshair was stubborn and that kind of vulnerability would have to be forced out. So that's what he did. He forced the truth out of Crosshair.
It was tough love, brother style.
Look at Hunter's face at the end of the episode. It's one of the few times we've ever seen Hunter talking to Crosshair with an open and unguarded expression--no furrowed brow, no frowning, no soul-penetrating stare.
"All we can do is keep trying to be better. And who knows? There might be hope for us yet."
He has stopped saying "you" when he's addressing Crosshair. He's using "we" and "us". He doesn't have to tell Crosshair he forgives him for what's happened in the past. He now understands him.
With understanding, there's nothing to forgive.
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