Us Or Them

Us or Them

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Luca go undercover as a couple, and when you're forced to get close, the truth slips out.

Warnings: tiny bit of angst, fluff, a tiny bit suggestive, making out, infidelity (not r or SWAT characters) + canon typical warnings

Word Count: 3.8k+ words

A/N: I'll proofread this tomorrow! I just love the req so I wanted to post it now. :)

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“I don’t like that look, Hondo,” you murmur as he walks into the locker room.

“Hurtful,” he replies. “Detective Burrows wants to see you and Luca. Where is he?”

“Luca? I shoved him in his locker.”

Hondo hesitates before muttering, “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“Luca is helping Rocker with something outside. Why does Burrows want to see us?” You stand as you speak, and Hondo fails to hide his smile. “Hondo.”

“I only heard a few words, but one of them sounded like undercover.”

“Fantastic. I’ll find Luca,” you offer. “But not one more word out of you, Daniel.”

Hondo puts his hands up in surrender as you walk past him, but you hear him call out to Deacon. Shaking your head, you walk through HQ and into the parking lot to find Luca. You’ve been undercover once before, but you were alone, and it was just to find a way into a suspect’s house. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before 20 Squad stormed in behind you and arrested everyone else in the house. So, you’re unsure why Burrows would request you and Luca rather than trained UC officers.

“Luca!” you call when he stands from beside Black Betty. “Burrows needs to see us.”

“What for?” Luca asks, wearing a similar surprise to yours.

“Hondo thinks it may be an undercover thing, but I don’t know yet.”

Luca nods and passes a small toolbox to Rocker. “Keep working on it.”

“You got it,” Rocker answers. “Have fun undercover.”

You roll your eyes and follow Luca into the building. Once inside, you take a few large steps to walk beside him.

“Hondo said undercover?” Luca inquires. “Think maybe he misheard?”

“Possibly,” you admit. “I don’t know what case he’s working, but I guess if he needs UC and SWAT…” You trail off with a shrug, and Luca smiles. “What?”

“It’s never that easy with Burrows,” he reminds you.

“True. This is going to be terrible, isn’t it?”

A door opens to your right, and Burrows says, “Depends on how you look at it.”

“How are we going to look at it?” Luca counters.

Burrows gestures for you to come inside, and Luca moves to hold the door for you as you enter Burrows’ office. There’s a case board in front of his desk and pictures of a different couple in every corner.

“Please don’t tell me that’s mafia related,” you state.

“Not mafia,” Burrows assures with a grin. “But they are looking for a fifth couple.”

“To do what?” Luca asks before you can.

Burrows hesitates, and you exhale sharply. You’re a SWAT officer; you knew before you walked in that it would be a dangerous assignment, but now you are sure it will be more than you anticipated.

“They stage affairs to rob and murder couples,” Burrows explains quickly. “The richer the better.”

“They stage affairs,” you repeat. “As in pretend to cheat on each other to get into these people’s houses?”

“Apparently it’s their favorite way to, uh, get the blood pumping. We’ve got CCTV footage of them in high end hotels after every attack.”

“How do they do it?” Luca asks. “One goes in, the other storms in, and they work together?”

“Thinking like a criminal already, Officer Luca,” Burrows applauds. “More or less, that’s exactly how it goes. They go out together, play up how in love with one another they are, then one of them connects with someone else. Excuse, go upstairs, both partners burst in, then it’s time for murder and theft.”

“Wait, so wife goes upstairs with someone else’s husband,” you clarify. “Then husband gets the other wife, and they come up together? They con both of them to get them upstairs?”

Burrows shrugs and explains, “It’s just genius enough to keep them from getting caught. They’re getting more brazen, robbing two or three couples at a time. Apparently they need a solid five couples to keep it working.”

You look at Luca, and he nods before he says, “Tell us what you need.”

Burrows sighs in relief, then says, “I need you to convince these people that you’re madly in love and madly homicidal.”

“I feel like I should be on a reality show,” you tell Luca as you adjust your hair in the mirror on your visor.

“You look like it too,” he replies. “Burrows’ CI said they’re dining at Mastro’s tonight, though, so we have to look our part and then some.”

You close the visor and turn in the passenger seat to look at Luca. “We’re going to have to get really close, to sell this, I mean. It’s not going to make things weird, is it?”

Though you know you’re both trained and professional, there is a chance this will change everything between you. Not because you are friends and coworkers who see each other daily and trust one another with your lives, but because you have unresolved and unadmitted feelings for Luca. If something happens tonight, you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep those feelings buried anymore. The thought of him not wanting to be around you anymore because of that makes your stomach flip beneath your overpriced outfit.

“Of course not,” Luca answers emphatically. “It’s just a job.”

Maybe for you, you think. “Right,” you say instead. “And we get expensive food out of it.”

“Tonight is their deadline to pick up a fifth,” Luca reminds you. “As far as burglary-homicide can tell, that means it’s time for them to strike again.”

“So, you want me to flirt – eyes and body language only – with our server or someone close to him, then lift his wallet while they can see?” you check.

“Yeah,” Luca answers. “We can do this.”

You smile as he stops the car beside the valet stand and agree, “Of course we can.”

With your left arm looped through Luca’s right and your other hand perched on his bicep, you enter the penthouse restaurant with a smile.

“They’re all sitting against the west windows,” you whisper in Luca’s ear as you follow a woman to your table. “But pretend I said anything else.”

Luca turns his chin toward you, a look you’ve never seen before in his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently and says, “Later.”

You brush your teeth over your bottom lip before you separate from Luca and sit across the table from him. With what you hope is an apologetic look, you slide your leg under the table and hook your heel behind his lower leg. He smiles and offers his hand across the table. There are eight sets of eyes on you, glaring into you as the criminals across from you evaluate you and Luca as potential criminal accomplices.

“They’re looking,” you murmur softly.

“Everyone is,” Luca replies, cocky, sure, and completely in character.

“Good evening,” your waiter greets. “What can I get you to drink?”

Luca orders for both of you as you trail your eyes up and down the waiter. When he steps back, you lock eyes with him and smile. His eyes drop before he turns and walks away. That’s exactly what you wanted.

“The ladies liked that,” Luca whispers. He leans against the table and drops his eyes to your lips to add, “Almost as much as I did.”

You push your foot against his leg as you smile and desperately try to hold on to the part of you that views this as an assignment and nothing more. If you start seeing how Luca looks at you as anything more, you won’t be able to come out of this act the same.

“Waiter’s wallet is in the left pocket,” you enunciate, hoping the people beside you are reading your lips. “When he comes back, I’ll excuse myself, you order for me, and I’ll grab it on the way past.”

“You sure you didn’t make him too nervous looking at him like that?” Luca inquires.

You reach across the table and gently grasp his chin before you ask, “Does this look make you nervous?”

Luca shakes his head slowly before he kisses your fingertips, and you pull your hand away too quickly. He apologizes with a small nod, but you’re unable to explain the sudden movement before the waiter returns.

“Will you order for me?” you ask Luca. “Excuse me.”

You move the napkin from your lap back to the table and pass behind the waiter a few inches closer than is usually acceptable. With one simple move of your wrist, you pull his wallet from his pocket and tuck it between your hand and your hip as you walk to the restroom. In your peripheral, you notice two of the four women on Burrows’ board stand and walk toward you. It’s induction time.

As you enter the ladies’ room and the waiter leaves Luca’s side, one of your visitors' boyfriends walks to Luca’s table. He sits and pretends to greet an old friend.

“What can I do for you?” Luca asks, effortlessly charming even as his thoughts drift to you.

Luca has cared about you as more than a coworker since you met on your first day in the LAPD. He was drawn to you, and his need to be near and with you grows stronger each day. Deacon has encouraged him to tell you how he feels, but too much is at stake. The same things that have also kept you from making a move.

“Steph and I – you remember Steph, right?” the man begins.

Luca sees the challenging look in the man’s eyes and plays along as he answers, “Who could forget Steph? You two still going strong?”

“Stronger than ever,” the man – Grant, if Luca remembers the couple pairings correctly – brags. “In fact, we’ve got a new business venture that is doing wonders for our professional and private lives.”

“What’s the point of business without a little pleasure?”

“Exactly. I saw that you’re here with your beautiful woman, too, and since I’m sure they’re gossiping about us in the bathroom right now, why don’t we meet up after dinner? Grab a nightcap or a coffee and talk? I think you’d be very interested in hearing about our team.”

“That sounds perfect,” Luca agrees. “We’ve been looking for a change, anyway. Can’t let things get too boring with women like mine, you know?”

“Trust me, brother, I do. My buddies and their girls are coming too.”

Luca nods as Grant stands from the table and slides him a paper with a time and address written on it. Alone at the table again, Luca fights to hide his surprise when you return with a different hairstyle, red lipstick, and have adjusted your outfit.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the paper in his hand.

“We’re meeting one of my old friends for coffee after this,” Luca answers.

“Perfect.”

Grant and his crew of thieves and murderers leave the restaurant before you do, and you sigh as you slump in your seat.

“I look like I ran into a girl from the Jersey Shore and her makeup rubbed off on me,” you lament.

“I hadn’t noticed a difference,” Luca jokes. “If it helps any, you don’t need any of it.”

You smile, not the flirty, overselling smile from earlier, but your genuine smile as you pinch your napkin and murmur, “Thank you.”

Luca stands and offers his hand. In the privacy of the elevator, you drop your head against his shoulder and ask, “What do you think they’ll want to know?”

“The wallet for sure. Probably about us and how far we’d go to get the things, experiences, and people we want.”

“They’re either really good actors or so remarkably greedy that they can’t see how good they have it with decent relationships,” you comment.

“Or both.”

The first thing you notice upon entering the dark coffee shop is how close your suspects are sitting to one another. You tighten your grip on Luca’s hand but don’t warn him before you wait for him to sit and then perch on his knee. Without hesitation, he wraps his arm around your waist and tips you to lean against his chest. Your hand splays over his heart as you smile at the people sitting around you.

“I’m Grant,” the man who spoke to Luca introduces. “I believe you’ve already met Steph and Daisy,” he tells you. “This is Oliver, Aurora, Jacob, Brendan and Lizzie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luca says before introducing himself and you.

“You’re all incredibly attractive. Just wanted to throw that out there, and obviously I have good taste,” you add, looking pointedly at Luca.

“Good taste in targets too, it seems,” Oliver states. “The waiter?”

“Easy isn’t always good.”

“But it works,” Lizzie argues. “And we all start somewhere. Girls gotta eat, right?”

You hold your tongue between your teeth and look at Luca to agree, “So right.”

“That have something to do with your new business, Grant?” Luca asks, tightening his grip around you.

“Everything,” Grant and Oliver answer together.

“Please continue,” you invite.

“We’ve got a pretty straightforward system,” Brendan explains. “One you’ve already proven capable of.”

“One of us chooses a target – married target – and initiates contact. It goes well, always, and they go off alone. Whatever that takes. Then your significant other finds the cheater’s spouse, takes them to the room and storms in. Inside, we work together to incapacitate the infidelity-stricken couple and take whatever we want,” Jacob adds.

“Do you…” Luca trails off with a small gesture of his thumb over his throat.

“Usually,” Daisy answers before sipping her drink. “They see our faces, sometimes a bit more-“ Lizzie interrupts her with a giggle before she can finish – “so we can’t just leave them, you know?”

“Makes sense,” you muse. “But why do you need more? Eight of you seems like plenty to rip off some rich, sloppy cheaters.”

“Short answer?” Aurora asks. “Variety. People look for different things in flings, plus sometimes we have trouble restraining them. Mostly, though, it’s talent. You robbed a waiter in the middle of one of LA’s most expensive and busiest restaurants.”

You nod, wondering how they’ll feel about their decision-making process when they learn that he was an undercover cop.

“What do you want us to do?” Luca asks.

“Prove your worth one more time, and then we’ll talk again,” Grant says.

“The Four Seasons Bar tomorrow at nine,” Steph adds. “We’ll be at a booth in the corner, watching your every move. Pull it off and you get to keep the spoils and get your choice of future targets with our help.”

“Hear that?” you ask Luca. “We keep what we earn and then get to earn more. Sounds like a good investment to me, baby.”

Luca smiles at you before he tells Grant, “We’ll be there.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Burrows asks, tossing his hands up.

“Look at him,” you demand, pointing at Hondo. “I’m not going to be able to do this to him. I’ll laugh at him before I can even think about pretending to be interested in having an affair with him.”

“You just showed up to work this week to hurt me, huh?” Hondo interjects. “What about Deac?”

“It can’t be someone we know,” Luca argues. You nod quickly to agree. “They’ll be able to see any sliver of recognition.”

“Get me a UC couple that I’ve never met before and we can make it work,” you explain. “But no one I work with consistently.”

“Even Rocker?” Hondo taunts.

“Especially Rocker.”

“Okay, fine,” Burrows concedes. “I’ll send in UCs, both wearing purple so they’re easy to spot. Tell me again why we can’t make the arrest this time?”

“Because they’re expecting us to do this ourselves,” Luca says. “For all we know, they won’t come up to the room with us at all, just check our pockets when we come back down.”

Burrows runs his hand through his hair before he clarifies, “But we get them next time?”

“Guaranteed,” you and Luca answer together.

“Why don’t we ever come to the Four Seasons for date night?” you inquire from your position on Luca’s arm.

“We get this job, and we can,” he says lowly, moving his hand over your waist and toward your hip.

“Get a table facing the three-side,” you request against Luca’s shoulder.

He does as you ask, and from your seated position, you can see the UC couple, but Luca’s back is to them. You lock eyes briefly with the man, smile, and then look down. He knows his cue; he’ll follow you to the elevator when you hold up three fingers. His partner laughs and leans across the table to kiss him as you lay your cheek against your hand and look at Luca. The longing, lovesick gaze you fix on him isn’t thanks to your acting ability; it’s just one of the only excuses you’ll ever get to look at him like this.

Someone approaches your UC’s table, and you keep your eyes on Luca, letting them stray to his lips as he flirts freely with you. Without eyes on your UC, you don’t know how long you’ll have to wait to pretend to gauge his interest again. The man, dressed in black, steps away from the table as you move carefully to stand beside Luca. You press your hands against his shoulders, looking up quickly to check on your UC. He stares at you, pretending to breathe heavily before his attention suddenly snaps back to his partner. His quick glances at you are exactly what you need as you lower onto Luca’s lap and press your lips to his.

Luca hums in surprise, but his hands quickly move to your waist, gripping you softly before his fingers spread to trail up your back. With his hands on you and your lips moving with his, you nearly forget to drop your hand beside his chair and flash the signal to the UC. Carefully and painstakingly, you pull back from Luca and wipe your thumb under his mouth to remove the lipstick you transferred to his skin.

“Excuse me for a minute?” you request huskily, scraping your thumbnail under your own lips.

Luca nods, squeezing your hips as you stand. You make it to the elevator fifteen seconds before the UC, and you press yourself against him as the doors close.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you step back.

“It’s what I’m trained for,” he replies. “Pretty sweet gig some days.”

You shake your head at his comment, then lead him to the department-purchased hotel room and wait for Luca and his partner to arrive. Someone knocks on the door, and you freeze.

Steph says your name, then giggles like she’s pretending to be drunk. “Let me in!”

Turning to the officer beside you, you press your lips against his chin and neck, then ruffle his hair and push his purple shirt off his shoulders. As you stumble to the door with one shoe kicked off, you pull one of your dress straps down and pull several pieces of hair from your updo.

“Steph!” you greet as you open the door. “What are you doing here?”

“We want to see how it’s going,” Grant answers, stepping away from the wall beside your door. “Let us in?”

You shrug and push the door open for them, unsurprised to see that they’re both armed. Grant pulls his gun and holds it on the UC as you aim yours – removed from your thigh holster – at Steph.

“Don’t do this,” you warn. “We’re LAPD.”

“Figures,” Steph scoffs. “Only a cop would let looks like that go to waste.”

“And that kiss?” Grant challenges knowingly. “Just part of the act or something you wanted an excuse to do?”

“Stop talking,” you demand.

“And do what? Wait for your partner?”

“Something like that,” Luca says as he enters the room with his weapon ready.

“For robbers and killers, you’re not very good at making sure the door closes behind you,” you tell Grant.

He sees your heel propped between the door and the jamb and sneers as he moves his finger to the trigger.

“I wouldn’t,” Luca advises. “Your buddies are downstairs telling the detectives everything. What I heard was all about you and how it was all your idea. Grant pulled the trigger, Grant set them up, Grant-“

“Shut up!” Grant demands, turning his gun on you. “I’ll kill her.”

“Go ahead,” you say. “You kill me, they put you in jail forever. Either way, no one else has to deal with your pathetic attempt at feeling wanted.”

“I swear-“

Grant doesn’t finish before a gun fires, and he falls to the floor with a yelp. The UC officer beside him stands and pulls Grant’s gun away before he looks at Luca with wide eyes. Steph falls to her knees beside Grant, giving you plenty of time to pull the gun from her waistband as Grant holds the gunshot wound on his thigh.

“Bit premature?” you ask Luca.

“It was us or them,” he tells you, holstering his weapon. “They planned to kill us too, the guy downstairs was supposed to interrupt the trial run. So, when you left anyway, they got worried. Which, by the way, Grant, your plan was awful.”

Grant moans in reply, and you step aside as more officers enter the room. Luca turns toward you and pulls your dress up just before Hondo walks in with Burrows.

“Jacob, Lizzie, and Aurora gave us everything we need to charge them all,” Burrows says. “Well done, you two.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you mumble.

“Good night?” Hondo asks, smirking as he looks between Luca and the UC.

“His was better,” the UC answers as he prepares to leave. “Thanks for the fifteen minutes in the Four Seasons room, detective.”

“Get out of here,” Burrows instructs. “Come by in the morning to give your statements and I’ll try to keep the commissioner from pushing the cleaning cost on you,” he adds, gesturing to the blood on the carpet.

You nod and follow Luca to the unmarked police car waiting for you. Sitting in silence beside the curb, you both try to find the words to start the necessary conversation.

“I’m sorry,” you decide. “I shouldn’t have just kissed you like that.”

“We were undercover,” Luca defends. “You saved my life.”

“You saved mine.”

You fall silent again, watching the digital clock on the dashboard and waiting for it to change.

“I wanted it,” Luca whispers. “Not like that, and it doesn’t change anything, but I’ve wanted this – us – for years. Every time we work together, I realize it more.”

Your jaw drops as you watch Luca in the dark car. He continues talking, mixing in apologies with assurances that nothing has changed before you lean across the console and kiss him again. He cups your face immediately, bringing you as close as possible.

When you pull back and take a deep breath, you promise, “I still want it.”

“I’m glad I chose us then,” Luca says, tracing his fingers over your lips.

You smile and lean in again, hoping you’re imagining Hondo’s shocked but excited yell from outside the car.

Warm Me Up

Summary: A freak storm has you and Hunter seeking shelter in a cave. The desperation to get warm has some hidden feelings coming to light.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, confession of feelings, snow storms, almost freezing to death (not really but close), hypothermia, survival skills, cuddling for warmth, fucking to survive, cock warming (literally and figuratively), post Order 66, bit of an AU

A/N: I am once again bringing you Hunter and reader fucking to survive only under different circumstances. I have been in a Hunter mood lately so you are welcome.

Thank you @starrylothcat for the idea for this one.

MASTERLIST

It’s cold.

The wind whips around you, finding every crack and crevice in your armor, numbing your skin. The storm had blown in out of nowhere, whipping big, wet snowflakes at you on a wind so strong it was hard to stand up straight. It’s a near whiteout, and even Hunter is struggling to break trail in front of you.

He stops, turning to look at you a couple feet behind him, half to make sure you’re still following him. “There’s a cave up ahead.” He says, voice barely audible over the wind through the comms.

Your fingers are going numb. You’d lost feeling in your feet not long after the storm started, already having been trekking through ankle deep snow. “Lead the way, Sarge.” You mumble, trying to convince your legs to start moving again.

It’s slow moving for the few hundred yards until you see the mountainside jutting out in the blizzard. As you get closer, you can see the dark opening of the mouth of the cave like a monster waiting to devour you. You hope that’s not the case, but you suppose a monster’s mouth would be warmer than out here.

You follow Hunter inside, the torch in his hand illuminating the small cavern. It’s not very wide, your shoulders would probably touch the walls if you stood side by side, but it’s deep enough to keep you from the howling wind outside.

You’re shivering, teeth chattering as you stand in the dark cave. The storm was blocking your comms, preventing you from reaching the Marauder. This was supposed to be a quick mission, which was why you and Hunter had gone alone, leaving the others with the ship. Tech had assured you both the weather was going to be clear for the foreseeable future.

You’re going to have words with him when you get back.

“Kriff, it’s cold.” Hunter says, scanning the back of the cave before determining it clear.

He turns back around, his torch illuminating your shivering figure. Neither of you had real cold weather gear, and Hunter’s armor was better protection against it than yours.

“How are your toes?” He asks, stepping closer.

“Numb.” You say, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around your face.

“And your fingers?” He asks.

You lift your hands, fingers fumbling in an attempt to get your gloves off. He shines the torch on your exposed extremities as soon as they hit the floor, a curse crackling through his helmet. Your fingers are discolored and stiff, trembling as more shivers wrack your body.

“We need to get warm.” He says, pulling you back towards the back of the cave. “We won’t last the night at this rate.”

“H-How do we do that?” You stutter out between your chattering teeth. You were both ill prepared for this situation.

“Take your clothes off.”

You’re glad the cave is dark as the words leave Hunter’s mouth, the torch pointing at the wall as he removes his pack. You’re worried you may start steaming in embarrassment from the direct order.

You’ve been harboring a crush on him for a while. It started during one of your first missions with them. Of course, you thought he was handsome when you first met him, but you didn’t start developing feelings until he saved your life. You were relatively new to combat, though fighting wasn’t anything new, and you had failed to see the explosive at your feet. Hunter had pulled you out of the way and shielded you with his body.

He’d had his helmet on, but you couldn’t forget the way his hand felt on your arm, the way he looked hovering over you. You thought about it a lot. You still do.

You had fallen in love with him after the war ended, and he had willingly gone toe-to-toe with Tarkin to keep you on the squad. Tarkin had wanted to reassign you, but Hunter had insisted you were part of Clone Force 99 and they wouldn’t be as efficient without you.

You hadn’t dared act on it, though. He was technically your superior and you were not about to try pushing those boundaries. Plus, he’d never shown any interest in you in that way, and the last thing you wanted was to do was make things awkward.

You also just haven’t had time.

Between the Empire and deserting and being on the run and adjusting to having a literal child on board, you had little downtime for much else. You know Hunter’s stressed and has been feeling the effects of trying to keep everyone alive and deciding what to do next.

The last thing you want to do is throw your feelings on him too.

And now here he is, asking you to get naked in a cave with him.

“What?” You stutter out, looking up at him, his face barely visible. He’s removed his helmet.

“Our clothes are wet. We can’t get warm wearing wet clothes. We’ll risk hypothermia, or worse.” He explains, his helmet hitting the ground with a thud. “Seeing as how we don’t know how long this storm will last and if we’ll be able to reach the Marauder by comm when it does end, getting warm is our priority.”

His voice is so steady, so strong, reflecting every bit of the leader he is.

This is moving much faster than you had expected. You’d thought maybe a nice dinner, or a walk on the beach, at least something before your clothes started coming off. Of course, survival was different. You would like to keep your toes if possible.

Your numb fingers fumble to get your pack off as Hunter turns his back, digging through his pack. You’re glad for the darkness and the privacy as you tug at your own armor, fingers fumbling with clasps and straps as you slowly drop pieces onto the ground.

You pause as Hunter turns slightly, putting something on the floor. The cave lights with a soft yellow glow of a heat lamp, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth. So you weren’t going to freeze completely. The walls of the cave glitter with frost, your breath visible in the air as you continue to strip out of your armor.

You hesitate once your armor is off, staring at Hunter’s back. He’s making slow work of his armor, setting each piece in a pile next to his pack. You’ve watched them carefully stack their armor over and over. They always show it such reverence, though you suppose if it is your lifeline and one of your few belongings, you would treat it as such too. They always stack it in a way that would be quickest to get it back on and you can’t help but wonder if they practiced it. How fast can they get in and out of their armor if the need arose?

You bend over your pack, fumbling through its contents before your fingers hit what you’re looking for. One of the spare GAR blankets that came in each survival kit the squad carried. Working separate from larger battalions meant you had to carry more supplies with you for situations like this one.

You could cry as you pull the scratchy blanket from your pack.

You would cry, except that it feels like all liquid is frozen in your body.

You hesitate, eyeing Hunter’s back before you begin peeling your wet blacks off, goosebumps forming on your skin as it's exposed to the cold air in the cave. You fight off a shiver, shuffling closer to the heat lamp as you peel the rest off. You quickly wrap the blanket around your body, squatting down in front of the heat lamp. You can already feel the warmth from them on your exposed skin, toes starting to tingle.

Your eyes move to Hunter, his back still turned to you. You swallow thickly as he tugs the top of his blacks over his head, revealing his back. Your eyes trail the tattoo on the right side until it disappears under his blacks. You’ve seen them all in various states of undress before. It was impossible in a confined space like the barracks or the Marauder.

There had never been any insinuation, no lingering stares when you’d done a quick change. They were always so respectful, always so kind.

You felt bad for ogling them sometimes.

You quickly tuck your face in the blanket as Hunter tugs his pants down, praying you don’t start steaming. You want to look, you so badly want to look, but the last thing you need is to get caught being a creep.

Hunter moves closer to you, spreading something on the ground behind you. You nearly jump as his hand touches your back, warm through the blanket against your cold skin. He’s squatting next to you, very close to you as you peek out from your blanket.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, those stupid big, brown eyes shining in the low light from the heat lamp.

You stare at him for a moment before you nod. He pulls the blanket from the death grip you have around it, eyes never leaving yours as he opens it up, slipping his arms inside. His bare skin meets yours, turning you until your back is to his chest. He maneuvers you so easily so you’re laying on the blanket he had spread on the ground, curling his body around yours before draping your blanket across you both.

He sighs as he settles into place, his hand trailing down your arm. His hand is calloused from years of hard training, rough against your frigid skin. “Kriff, you’re freezing.” He murmurs, pulling you tighter against his chest.

Your breath hitches as his skin meets yours, cold but not nearly as frozen as yours. You can feel every ridge of muscle, every line, every divot of his body. You can feel all of him. You try not to think about it, try not to picture every fantasy you’ve had, every daydream of being in this very position with him.

Instead you focus on your shivering, the chill slowly abating as your shared warmth cumulates under the blanket. You can feel the heat lamp on your face, slowly thawing your frozen cheeks. You can also feel Hunter’s breath fanning over the top of your head.

You let your eyes drift closed, trying to avoid the thoughts racing through your head. You’re naked. Hunter’s naked. You’re very, very close. You’ve imagined this moment many, many times. Of course, it’s always under different circumstances. Normally in your fantasies, he’d hold you like this after you fucked, or on those short trips between missions when you try to get as much rest as possible. In the deeper fantasies you wake in his arms in your quiet home, the early morning light shining through the window. You’d grind against him, teasing him until he slipped inside you, making sweet love to you as you have all the time in the world, and no cares whatsoever.

Heat begins to bloom in your belly. You know it’s not just from the warmth beginning to return to you. You desperately fight it, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs and instead focus on the roaring of the wind outside the cave, the painful throbbing in your toes, the scratchiness of the blanket, anything.

Hunter shifts just slightly behind you, letting out a long breath. Kriff, he can probably smell it. He could probably smell it before your body even started reacting. He knows. He knows.

You shift slightly, ignoring the way your thighs slide a little too easily against each other. “Sorry.” You breathe, nervously tugging on the edge of the blanket.

He hums, his fingers trailing down your front. He presses his palm against your belly, causing your breath to hitch. He shifts his legs and suddenly there’s something pressing against your ass. Something hard. “Nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.” He murmurs in your ear, his voice so low and deep you can feel it vibrating through your back.

"Hunter?" You ask, staring at the heat lamp.

He hums, pressing closer to you, his breath fanning your ear.

Your breath catches in your throat, your exhale shaky. "I'm still cold. Could you warm me up a little more?"

His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you firmly against him as his lips meet the skin of your neck. He kisses a line from your ear to the junction of your shoulder, the hand that had been planted on your stomach slowly sliding lower. It slips between your thighs, grabbing one and lifting it over his hip. Your hands cling to the arm wrapped around you as he slides his fingers down your inner thigh. Your body is shivering for a different reason now.

You gasp quietly as his fingers trail over your wet slit, hips pushing into his hand. It’s so much better than your fantasies, those dexterous fingers flicking over your clit.

“All this just for me?” He murmurs in your ear, his voice low and rough.

“Yes,” You gasp, nails biting into his skin as he works you up. “Been thinking of this for a long time.”

“I know.” He says, sinking a finger into you. “I could sense it. At first I could smell it. I always wondered what you were thinking about.” He slips a second finger into you. “Didn’t take long to figure it out.” He kisses the side of your head. “Your heart rate would jump. Sometimes I’d smell it while you were looking at me. I was flattered. A gorgeous woman like you thinking about me like that.”

You wiggle in his arms, just enough so you can see his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He pauses his movements, his fingers stilling inside you. “Didn’t want to complicate things. Then everything happened with the Empire and I just haven’t had the right moment.”

“Fair.” You say, eyes dropping to his lips. “Not a whole lot of places to do things like this in the ship.”

He grins. “No, especially not with the others there.” His thumb brushes over your clit, fingers starting to thrust into you once more. “I’m going to find us a safe place to stay.” He says, words broken by kisses as he trails them up your neck. “Build us a home with lots of privacy.” He kisses across your face to the corner of your lips. “So we can do this whenever we want.”

You hum, backing away from his lips before he can kiss you. “Usually I require a date first, but I’ll make an exception.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He says, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I promise.”

You close the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you softly, lips slightly chapped from the cold. His fingers continue to move inside you, curling to find that spot that has your legs shaking. His thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to sweet release.

You whine against his lips as you cum around his fingers, soaking his hand with your release. He pulls away from your lips, withdrawing his hand before he lifts his fingers, taking them into his mouth. You watch, slack-jawed as he sucks his fingers clean.

“Fuck buying me dinner,” You say, rolling around to face him. “If you’re gonna act like that you can skip all those steps.”

He laughs, rolling on top of you. It’s a mirror of the moment you first began to have feelings, when he’d saved your life. You suppose he also saved your life again in this situation. Perhaps he needs to save your life more often if it’s going to end with him on top of you.

He lowers himself down, pressing his lips to yours once more. You kiss him hard, tangling a hand in his hair. You’ve always wanted to touch it, always wanted to run your fingers through it, pull on it to see if it makes him moan. You file that away for another day.

He’s hard, pressed against your stomach. His hips rock against you, dragging his cock along your skin. You slide your hands down his back, grabbing a handful of his ass. You’ve always wanted to grab it, having spent way too much time memorizing the shape of his body. His broad shoulders and thin waist and round ass and thick thighs.

He really is the perfect man.

“Fuck,” He moans, pulling away from your lips to press himself up.

He’s away just long enough to line his cock up, your legs parting even wider for him. You both moan as he sinks into you, your sensitive walls fluttering around the intrusion. You pull him back against you, securing him tightly to your chest. His lips find yours again, kissing and biting as he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow, working you open for him. It feels better than you could ever imagine, better than your fantasies could come up with. You’re no longer cold, even your toes warmed by his body and his touch. The air in the cave even feels warm, the blizzard outside nothing compared to the fire ignited beneath your skin at Hunter’s touch.

You move your hips as he picks up speed, your bodies moving fluidly together. You let go, moaning as loud as you can. You don’t care if you accidentally wake some beast deep in the mountains. You want the whole galaxy to know how good Hunter makes you feel.

Hunter grunts and moans above you, snapping his hips into you. You cling onto him as you begin to feel the burning low in your stomach, the coil tightening more and more as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me.” Hunter growls, nipping at your lower lip. “Let me feel you.”

You cry out his name as you cum, back arching in pleasure. He’s not far behind you, his head falling back as he stutters to a stop, filling you with his cum. You let him fall on top of you, wrapping your arms around him.

He lays there, both of you catching your breaths. He’s heavy, a solid weight, but you don’t complain. He’s warm, and he makes you feel safe. He kisses your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. He groans, already starting to go hard inside you again.

***

You wake to a bright light in your eyes. You squint, ducking your head down under the blanket. Hunter groans, shifting his arms around you. It’s quiet outside, far quieter than it had been last night.

“Storms over.” Hunter rasps, not making any attempt to move.

He’s still inside you, his softened cock tucked inside your pussy. You’d fallen asleep after the third round, the exhaustion finally taking over after you were thoroughly warmed. You don’t really want to get up. You don’t really want to move. You know the others have to be worried, after all you hadn’t been able to contact them after the storm blew in. You’re not even sure how far you are from the Marauder.

It may be a bit selfish, but you wish you could stay here. Build yourselves a tiny home in this cave and never leave. Just the two of you, alone, like your fantasies had once consisted of.

You know it’s not possible now. You couldn’t abandon the others like that, and you could never convince Hunter to abandon Omega, not that you would ever want to. You’ll just have to find a place to build a big enough house for all of you.

“We should get up.” Hunter says, still not making any attempts to move. “The others will be worried.”

You hum, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Five more minutes?”

He chuckles, lifting your chin so he can kiss you. “I suppose five minutes won’t hurt anything.”

Taglist:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @anxiouspineapple99 @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

761 notes View Post

snoowply

6 months ago

Can I request something with Robb stark x shy reader. She is very quiet and a good wife too rob, but she loves seeing him be a true king to his people so when someone comes along and tries to knock him down a few pegs she speaks up and reminds said person of who they are speaking to leaving Robb speechless and a little turned on. You can end it there or add in a little smut if you want. Thank youuu

A/N requests open! Hope you enjoy, anon! There is just a sprinkle of nsfw at the end, but I tagged it with smut just to be safe ;) i think i used the word shy like a million times. Reblog/Comment if you want more!

You and your husband, Robb, were touring the North and providing supplies to the smallfolk to support them through the Winter. There were many grievances to address and you held court at all the small towns.

You hated the attention, and it was a small mercy that you rarely had to speak. Even when Robb needed your counsel, he asked for it in private so you weren’t embarrassed. The eyes of the people on you were enough to mortify you, yet you bore your discomfort silently and stood by his side.

At one such hearing, Robb ordered the Lords of the lesser Northern houses to visit. You were seated next to him on your throne, Greywind sleeping on the raised floor at your feet.

“The old ways have served the North fruitfully for years. Listen carefully, one war does not make a boy a man and you are yet to know the ways of the world.” Lord Karstark said, wagging a wrinkled finger at Robb.

It was the third time he had questioned your husband in front of his Council. You were furious.

All Robb had suggested was reducing the great burden of supporting lesser houses with tithes from the peasants. Many smallfolks families were missing men and weapons due to the war, and winter was coming. It would be his first Winter as King of the North and he wanted all his subjects to survive, not just the noblemen.

You thought it was admirable. You also knew how hard he worked, spending almost all nights this week pouring over papers and accounts.

“Don’t forget yourself, I am the King,” Robb chided him. Greywind woke up and went to him, a silent threat.

“No man that calls himself King is a true-“ Lord Karstark began in his crotchety old voice. Anger coursed through your veins. How dare this senile old man try to insult your husband.

You cleared your throat. The hall fell silent. Robb frowned and turned to look at you. His wife was a woman of few words but they were all worth hearing.

“My King husband would have no need of repeating his station if you would remember it, my Lord. And if you cannot, then perhaps in the evening of one’s life we must accept our limitations and resign to things we are capable of.” You said calmly, yet sharply. Robb’s jaw dropped in awe.

It took Karstark’s slow mind a moment longer to process.

“Control your tongue, woman,” he said said, eyes wild, pointing to you.

“Disrespect the Queen and you will feel my blade,” Robb yelled, stepping down from the throne and pulling out Ice, just as the direwolf by his side leapt into action.

Karstark did not know when to keep hush. He retorted back sarcastically, and the altercation ended with him being dragged to the dungeons for his impunity. The other lords were also greatly displeased with him, for now they had no chance of changing the King’s mind about restoring their allowances.

You were glad to see the end of the day, and walked into the chambers of your current abode with Robb trailing behind you.

“Lord Karstark demands hot oil for his feet, did you hear it, darling?” Robb said, crushing the piece of correspondence he read. “To send his demands with servants even when imprisoned. The gall of him.” He chuckled.

“I’ve had it up to here with that old bastard,” you said angrily. You let your hair down and started running your fingers through it roughly. The more you thought of it, the more your anger flared.

“How dare he set foot in your court, dine and dwell in our hospitality, and feel entitled to disrespect you like that? I will not stand for it, Robb.” You said, tugging at the lacing and stepping out of your gray court dress.

“Age does not guarantee wisdom, darling. Experience does. And the old fool has none.” Robb said, walking up to you and resting his hands on your shoulders. He pushed your hair to the side and kissed up your neck from your shoulders to your ear.

You tilted your head to give him more access. After a while he turned you around and kissed your mouth. You savored his languid kisses. His hands slowly pushed your chemise over your shoulders till it hung just above your breasts.

You pulled away, and leaned back, his strong arms holding you up.

“I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, love” you said shyly. You were bold in your anger but the shyness was starting to creep in now. “I love you, and I cannot bear to see you insulted after you pour your soul into this Kingdom.”

“Don’t be sorry, you were fantastic,” Robb said, apparently unable to keep his lips off of you. You gasped as he nipped at the bottom of your throat. “I would like to see the wolf in my little wife more often.”

You giggled at his words, and he walked you backwards till your calves hit the bed. Your chemise dropped to your hips and his hands made quick work of finding your breasts.

Your hands came up to cover yourself.

“Robb, the candles,” you said, eyes wide. His own blue ones lit up with mirth.

“I know now that you are not shy, let me see what is mine, darling.” He whispered, pushing your chemise to the floor. You stepped out of it, naked as the day you were born. Your skin felt hot under his hungry gaze.

“Lie back, Y/N,” he said, licking his lips and pushing you down on the bed. “I wish to show you some of my appreciation.” He knelt before you with a wink.

Robbs hands found your knees and he spread them apart. Your hands twisted into his auburn hair in surprise.

And there was nothing shy about the sounds you made that night.

646 notes View Post

snoowply

3 months ago

Hyperspace

Summary: Unable to sleep during hyperspace travel on The Havoc Marauder you seek out the company of the Batch's resident sniper.

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,661

Authors Note: I know that after I took that poll I said I would write a Fives one shot next.... but Crosshair has taken my writing hostage these days. Sorry, but also, not sorry! I wrote this as a prequel to my One-Shot Sniper, but I think it stands on it's own just fine if you haven't read it! Enjoy :)

************************

Over the years you’d been on hundreds of different types of ships; shuttles, Venator class attack cruisers, cargo ships, drop ships, modified attack shuttles… you name it and you had likely been on it. Honestly, you’d spent most of your adult life in space but there was still one problem that seemed to plague you no matter how many hours you’d spent aboard a ship. Hyperspace insomnia.

You tried your best to smother a sigh as you rolled over on your bunk, frustration bubbling up in you at your inability to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. Every ship you had ever been on tried to maintain day and night cycles to aid with sleeping in hyperspace but it seemed that your body couldn’t be fooled. You’d spent many nights tossing and turning over the years, much to your annoyance. You sighed again before you sat up, deciding to abandon your current attempt at sleep before your restlessness disturbed anyone, which on such a small ship was unfortunately very easy to do.

As quietly as possible you slipped from the middle bunk on the Havoc Marauder, it was the middle of the night cycle and the ship was silent except for Wrecker’s soft snores. You took a quick look behind you to make sure you hadn’t woken anyone and thankfully Wrecker was still snoring away and Tech was also still fast asleep on the top bunk.

When you’d joined Clone Force 99 as a medic they had insisted you take one of the bunks as your own. You’d protested vehemently, as there were only three to begin with, but despite your insistence that you could all share the middle bunk it always seemed that it was free for you to use when they discussed their watch rotations each night. Your ongoing protests always seemed to fall on deaf ears though. On nights like this one, when you couldn’t even sleep you felt especially guilty.

You let out another soft sigh as you looked towards the back of the ship where Hunter was asleep in the gunner's mount. For a moment you considered waking him and insisting he take your bunk since clearly you wouldn’t be using it any time soon but even from this distance he looked peaceful and the fear of disturbing him outweighed everything else.

As quietly as possible you moved towards the midpoint of the shuttle, intent on making yourself a cup of caf. If you couldn’t sleep, you reasoned you might as well just be fully awake. You pulled two cups from one of the cupboards used for storage, there wasn’t a galley so things tended to end up in random places but you always knew where the caf was. You looked over your shoulder to make sure everyone was still asleep as the water boiled, but all three clones appeared dead to the world. You smiled softly to yourself as you poured two cups of instant caf, Crosshair was on watch and you knew from past experience if you made a cup for yourself and not him you’d get the look.

When you had joined The Bad Batch it hadn’t taken long for you to feel like one of the team. You were experienced, having spent time with the 501st, 104th, and various commando units prior to joining them and they had immediately recognized and appreciated your work. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker quickly accepted you among their ranks and you were already on very friendly terms with all of them after only a few weeks together. Crosshair, on the other hand, was a much harder nut to crack.

The Batch’s resident sniper was quite possibly one of the grumpiest human beings you’d ever met, which was saying a lot because you’d worked with Commander Wolffe for months. It was clear that your addition to the team had been unwanted on his part at first, but over time it seemed he had begrudgingly come to accept you. These days you could even say that he was somewhat in friendly territory with you, or at least as friendly as he ever got, but it had taken a lot of work on your part to get there. It seemed your strategy of smothering him with kindness had finally worn him down somewhat.

The thing was though, despite his surly exterior you actually really liked the sniper, perhaps more than what was considered professional. He was cunning, brave, with a sly and wicked sense of humour, and it was clear that he was incredibly loyal and cared deeply about his brothers. It also didn’t hurt that he was the most handsome man you’d ever met. You tried your best to keep things strictly professional but there were times when his steely gaze would have you turning into a blushing, stuttering mess, much to your own embarrassment. You’d been around the clones since the start of the war, many who were incredibly flirty, but none had ever had the same effect on you that Crosshair did.

Pushing your emotional problems from your mind for the moment you made your way to the cockpit. Crosshair didn’t even look up from where he was sitting in the pilot's seat as you entered, he simply kept cleaning the firepuncher without even missing a beat.

“Hyperspace insomnia strikes again?” He asked lowly, still without looking up as you placed a cup of caf on the console in front of him.

“I think I might be cursed,” You said with a dramatic sigh as you slid into the co-pilot seat, wrapping both hands around your warm cup of caf as you did so. The seats in the cockpit were actually more comfortable than the bunks and you let out another soft sigh as you settled into the seat.

Crosshair finally looked up, one brow raised just slightly, “Maybe we should get you a talisman, I’m pretty sure I saw someone selling them to ward off curses the last time we were on Savareen.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head, “I don’t think I’ve reached that level of desperation just yet.”

Crosshair shrugged, “Your loss,” before returning his attention to cleaning his rifle. You were fairly positive with the number of times you’d seen him clean the weapon that he could do it with his eyes closed. You were beginning to suspect it was more of a self-soothing habit, that weapon had to be the cleanest thing you’d ever seen. In a way though it was soothing for you to watch him do it, you’d already spent many nights awake watching him clean the rifle with a practiced ease.

You pulled your feet up onto the seat, something you only did when Tech wasn’t around since he was very particular about his ship, as you sipped your caf. You switched between watching the stars streak past and watching Crosshair out of the corner of your eye. A sense of calm washed over you in the comfortable silence of the ship.

It wasn’t until he’d finished reassembling his rifle and reached for the cup of caf you’d brought him that you spoke again, “I don’t know anything about their curse talismans but Savareen is actually pretty famous for its brandy…”

Spouting off random facts had started as a way to break the ice with him and had then become a way to pass the time when the two of you were paired off on missions, separate from the rest of the Batch due to your respective specialties. Even in the beginning, he hadn’t seemed to mind it too much, likely because he was used to hearing it from Tech, but now it seemed to be a habit you couldn’t break. You enjoyed watching his reactions and every time he’d actually engage in conversation you felt like you’d won a battle.

“Is it any good?” He asked, his tone was bored but you could tell by the way he turned his seat slightly towards you that he was actually interested.

“It’s not bad, a bit strong for my tastes,” You replied with a shrug.

“Not surprising, I’ve seen your tastes,” He said snidely but there was a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.

“Hey! I’m just not really into drinking,” You protested with a laugh. You weren’t offended at all though, you were, quite famously, a lightweight. You'd been with the Batch long enough now for them to know this about you, “I need to maintain a clear head at all times in case of a medical emergency!”

“Sure,” Crosshair responded, the dry look on his face making you laugh even harder.

You continued to chuckle softly to yourself between sips of caf as you leaned forward slightly to look at the navi-computer. You could see Crosshair watching you out of the corner of your eye and your face began to heat up slightly at the feeling of his intense gaze on you.

“Oh, we just passed Mon Cala,” You said softly, mostly to distract yourself from the butterflies that were suddenly making themselves known in your stomach. You looked back over at Crosshair who was still watching you intently as you leaned back in your seat, “Did you know there’s a type of squid that lives there that has a circular brain that their food passes through?”

Crosshair let out a snort of amusement, "Sounds like Tech.”

You slapped your hand over your mouth to stifle that bark of laughter that escaped you. It took you a moment to stop laughing before you could speak again, “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

Your eyes might have been deceiving you in the low light but you could have sworn that Crosshair was actually smiling. Well, smirking was more accurate, but in Crosshair's body language, you were going to consider that a genuine smile.

“Go ahead,” Crosshair replied flippantly, “he’d probably take it as a compliment.”

You chuckled again, shaking your head in amusement at him before finishing the last sip of your caf, “I think I’ll keep this between the two of us. I’m trying to stay in his good books so he’ll teach me how to fly the Marauder.”

Crosshair scoffed, “Good luck with that, he’ll make you memorize every piece of this ship before he even so much as lets you touch a button.”

“That’s ok!” You replied happily, as you leaned forward to set your empty cup down on the console in front of you, “I like to learn.”

Crosshair scoffed again as you continued, your tone turning teasing once more, “Plus it’ll give me more random facts to annoy you with.”

His eyes narrowed at you which only made you laugh softly, “Are you always this happy?” He asked his tone somewhere between impressed and annoyed.

“Only around the people I like,” You answered as you stretched out a foot to jab his chair with your boot playfully.

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you. The lights of the cockpit were dim but you could have almost sworn that a light flush appeared on his cheeks. You felt your own face heating up at his look. Concern that maybe you’d overstepped suddenly bubbled up in you but it vanished almost as quickly as it had come. He didn’t seem annoyed.

Eventually, he snorted, rolling his eyes before he spoke, “So, everyone then?” his tone once again characteristically grumpy.

“I don’t like everyone…” You started but then stopped, laughing at the disbelieving look Crosshair shot you, “I really didn’t like that Admiral we had to work with on the last mission.”

Crosshair’s face darkened considerably at the mention of the Admiral who was, for lack of better words, a complete and utter asshole. Both to you AND the clones.

“He seemed to be offended by the fact that I was a woman,” You continued with a chuckle.

Crosshair shook his head, clearly annoyed at just the thought of the other man, “He was di’kut.”

You smirked at the Mando’a term as he looked back over at you, the dark look on his face replaced once more with subtle amusement, “That’s only one person though…”

“Well,” You started teasingly, “Not all of us have a 30-foot-long list of people we don’t like.”

Crosshair snorted again, “It’s more like 15 feet.”

You chuckled, “Now, that IS surprising. You’re going to have to step it up, Cross.”

This time you were certain your eyes weren’t deceiving you, his face had definitely flushed slightly. His dark eyes had widened but his gaze was no less intense as he looked at you. It took you a moment to figure out what his reaction was in response to but when you did you felt your chest tighten. Although you often referred to him as such in your head, you’d never actually said the shortened form of his name out loud before. An apology for getting too familiar was on the tip of your tongue but before you could get the words out he was speaking again.

He lifted his hand in a mock salute, eyes narrowed but amused, “Mission accepted, Sunshine.”

You felt as though you might actually combust. Your face felt as if it was on fire as a nervous chuckle escaped you. You were so kriffed, no one had ever gotten under your skin like this before. You prided yourself on maintaining professional relationships so this was definitely going to be a problem. Feeling somewhat overwhelmed with the surge of emotions suddenly coursing through you, you turned your attention back to the navi-computer. According to it, you still had another 14 standard hours before you reached your next destination. With a soft sigh, you leaned back in your seat, unable to stop yourself from shyly looking over at Crosshair every few moments.

He had also leaned back in the pilot’s chair, one long leg crossing over the other. His chair was still slightly angled towards you but he was now looking out the windscreen of the Marauder, the lights of hyperspace reflecting in his dark eyes. Silence settled between the two of you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, once you got over the initial shock of receiving a nickname from him, you felt more relaxed than you had in ages. Sitting with Crosshair seemed to have this effect on you more and more often these days.

It wasn’t long before your eyes began to grow heavy, the soft hum of the Marauder’s engines and the comfort of the co-pilot seat effectively lulling you to sleep. That last thing on your mind before you finally let yourself succumb to sleep was a pair of dark intense eyes.

*****

You woke with a start, thoughts a complete jumble as you sat up suddenly, looking around yourself in confusion. It took you a long moment to orient yourself because you were no longer in the cockpit of the Marauder, you were back in your bunk. You frowned as you lifted a hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes. It was obviously still early, the lights of the Marauder still dim and Wrecker was still snoring on the bunk below you, but a quick look at the chrono on your wrist confirmed it was morning. Your brow furrowed as you looked around you, Tech was no longer on the bunk above you, instead, a flash of silver hair confirmed it was now Crosshair in his place.

You were still confused as you pushed the blanket that had been covering you off and swung your legs over the edge of the bunk before quietly slipping out. Unless it was all a dream, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t, the last thing you could remember was being in the cockpit with Crosshair. So, unless you had recently started sleepwalking that meant someone had carried you back to the bunk. Not only that, but they had tucked you in too.

Your face flushed as the reality of that settled in your stomach, your heart rate suddenly picking up exponentially. While every single member of the squad were capable of carrying you back to bed and were kind enough to do so, the most obvious culprit was the one who was increasingly in your thoughts and was without a doubt becoming a problem for you. Your eyes strayed up to the top bunk to look at Crosshair, he was facing away from you but you could tell from the deep, even breaths he was taking that he was still asleep.

Heart still racing you headed towards the middle of the ship where Tech was fiddling with a piece of equipment in one of the seats in front of the console. That likely meant that Hunter was upfront keeping an eye on things, something that you were suddenly quite grateful for. You didn’t need him wondering why your heart was racing first thing in the morning, though even with the door of the cockpit between you you knew he likely could still hear it. Pushing that somewhat embarrassing thought from your mind, you greeted Tech softly as you passed by on your way to make some caf. Your mind was still reeling from the revelation that Crosshair might have carried you to bed but you were able to focus enough to successfully make 5 cups of caf. Normally, whoever was first up who wasn’t on watch would make the caf for everyone but Tech could be somewhat unreliable when his attention was divided. Caught, he smiled up at you sheepishly as you handed him a cup.

You settled yourself into one of the jump seats, pulling your knees up to your chest as you counted back from 10. Sure enough, you hadn’t even made it to 5 before the sounds of movement from the bunks reached you. It was fairly predictable but made you smile every morning nonetheless, there was nothing that could summon a clone faster than hot caf.

Also predictable was how grumpy Crosshair looked as he made his way over. Without a word or even a nod of acknowledgment, he grabbed a cup, taking a sip before moving to sit on the seat across from Tech. His tired gaze strayed over to you a moment later and you felt your face heat. You managed to give him what you hoped was a normal smile in greeting before his eyes flicked back to focusing on his caf.

“Chow time?” Wrecker asked as he ambled over, still looking like he was half asleep but the excitement at the prospect of eating was evident in his voice.

With a sigh Tech set aside his project and stood, rummaging through the cupboard for a moment before emerging with the morning's rations. He handed the first to Wrecker who had been hovering around him excitedly. In general, the clones ate more food than anyone else you knew but Wrecker in particular seemed to have a never-ending appetite. One of your first duties as the team medic had been to put in a request for more rations for ‘medical reasons’. Wrecker had actually cried with happiness when the extra crate had shown up for the first time and your ribs had ached for days from the bone-crushing hug you had received. The memory put a smile on your face as you took your own ration from Tech before he moved on to Crosshair.

“Thanks, Squid,” Crosshair’s snide comment as he took his ration bar from his brother nearly had you spitting out the sip of caf you had just taken. You looked at him with wide eyes, face heating as his gaze met yours, amusement swimming in the depths of his dark eyes. Not only that, but he was definitely smirking. Smug asshole.

Tech looked between the two of you, frowning deeply, “I suppose that comment is in relation to one of your late-night inside jokes?”

Your face grew even hotter with embarrassment at the fact that your little late-night chats with Crosshair hadn’t gone unnoticed. You spluttered, unsure of what to say as Tech simply looked between the two of you for another moment. When neither of you answered he simply rolled his eyes before returning to his seat, his own ration bar forgotten as he returned to working on the same piece of equipment.

“Please, do not enlighten me,” He continued without looking up, “I am certain it is not as funny as the two of you think it is.”

This time you weren’t able to stop the laugh that escaped you and it only got worse when you looked at Crosshair to see that he was also snickering.

Tech sighed in exasperation as he shook his head, “Children.”

It wasn’t even that funny but you found yourself struggling to regain some composure. You felt giddy, something that you had experienced in ages. And you knew without a doubt it was entirely due to the silver-haired clone who was still watching you with amusement, a subtle smirk on his face as he continued to sip his caf.

Eventually, you managed an apology to Tech that was waved off, clearly, he wasn’t actually bothered by the teasing and the rest of the morning continued on as normal. A sense of calm finally washed over you as you sat quietly, listening to the sound of The Marauder moving through space and the occasional conversation between brothers.

One thing had changed though, you now knew without a doubt that you were harbouring a crush on the team's resident snarky sniper. You were kriffed, but you found as your eyes connected with his later on that morning that it didn’t bother you as much as you had once thought it would. And you knew that the next time you couldn’t sleep you’d be right back by his side. Sometimes, you reasoned with yourself as you smiled softly over at him, you just had to live a little.

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snoowply

6 months ago

Suppose to be You

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

If you’d like to be tagged when I post this comment below!!

277 notes View Post

snoowply

5 months ago

𝒗𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆 — ⋆

༓ 𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒂 𝒓𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆

↬f!reader, slight angst but also fluff-ish, one-sided crush (?), we’ll never know because i genuinely don’t even know, was part of a ficlet compilation on my old blog now edited and reposted, 587 wc

(𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕)

Tap! Tap!

Your dry and tired eyes lift from your textbook at the sound of knocking on the entry door to your fourman dorm. Despite needing the break, you groan. Probably one of your roommates forgot their key card again. You sigh as you pick yourself off the couch and open the door without checking the peephole.

“Oh, Ryuu!” You say as you’re greeted with a bright sharky grin. Your heart thuds in your chest at the unexpected visitor. Well, perhaps not so unexpected since it’s well known across campus that he’s hopelessly head over heels for your roommate, Kiyoko. You’re not even entirely sure on the ‘hopelessly’ part of that. You find him funny and cute, and his earnest persistence to woo the same girl is admirable - surely anyone who was around him long enough would feel the same. You just wish you could be the girl. However, somehow you ended up more of a friend and wingman to the man in the doorway.

“Here, I came to drop these off,” he declares as he piles a stuffed bear, a bouquet of flowers, and a heart-shaped box of chocolates in your arms. Ah, of course. You almost forgot it’s Valentine’s Day.

“Cool, I’ll put these in Kiyoko’s room for you,” you say as you start to back up, hoping you don’t sound as sour as you feel. The thought of all these cute little tokens of affection leaving your possession instills a black cloud looming over your head.

“Hm? Oh, no, they’re for you!” Ryuu exclaims with a smile that squeezes your heart every time you see it.

“Y- H- Wha-?” You sputter dumbly as you feel every pore on your skin start to prickle. Did you hear that correctly?

“You, uh, mentioned a while back that you’ve never gotten chocolate or flowers on Valentine’s Day, so I thought I’d be the first,” he explains as he rubs the back of his head, a bit nervous under your unreadable shocked stare.

Your eyes sting, but hopefully he doesn’t notice. You told him that last year, pretending not to care and that you were above such gestures, and really, you had convinced yourself of that. But it would be nice- No. It is nice.

You thank him with a wobbly smile and he looks more than pleased to catch you so off guard. Your eyes hold onto his for a moment, searching for an elaboration, but he’s quick to wave his hand casually and send himself off with that sharp grin that makes you want to incinerate any apprehensions about love.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow! Happy Valentine’s Day!”

You give a tiny wave goodbye to him, and as soon as you close the door, you sink to the ground and hug your gifts tight to your chest while your heartbeat goes wild. After taking a few deep breaths, you make your way to your room. You place the cute brown bear on your bed, stick the flowers in a smoothie blender cup (because what college kid has a vase in their dorm), and hide the chocolates away in your desk drawer.

Maybe it’s because his crush on Kiyoko is so widely known, you feel the need not to draw any attention to the gifts. However, you still would send him newspaper style reviews of each chocolate as you ate them, and a picture of the flowers in their make-shift vase that makes him laugh. You really didn’t think you held a candle to Kiyoko, but maybe…. just maybe….

(𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕)

173 notes View Post

snoowply

10 months ago

❤️❤️❤️❤️