Younger Silco, Vander And Benzo Headcanons

Don't Go (One-shot):

young!silco x gn!reader - 3.6k words - SFW 

cw: angst, fluff, breakup conversations, happy ending, reconciliation, arguments, silco struggling with his emotions, little bit possessive, soft silco, suggestive ending (this one is pretty angsty but don’t worry, it all works out in the end!)

summary: Silco, your long time boyfriend, does something you’d begged him not to, so you regretfully decide that you need a break from him. Silco has other plans. 

You didn't want to go. Not really. 

But after Vander’s revelation, you felt like you had no choice. 

Silco had been all fired up the night before, ranting and raving about his latest (and quite frankly terrible) plan of breaking into the Sheriff’s office Topside to gain information about any upcoming raids in your neighbourhood. 

The surprise Enforcer raids had been hitting businesses across Zaun at random, an M.O of storming in and ransacking each place with no clear means or motive, and definitely without any warning. 

Understandably then, Vander, Silco, and you had been particularly concerned that a raid would hit The Last Drop any day now, and despite every effort to hide anything that could give you away, there was a real fear that your revolutionary group would be discovered and brutally dismantled. 

But the idea of breaking into the Sheriff’s office of all places was beyond dangerous and to your frustration, you just couldn’t get Silco to listen to reason.

You’d pleaded with him not to do something so risky. You’d tried to calm down, told him to just wait until you could all discuss it together as a group and come up with a plan that wasn’t so grandiose, and in your view, completely and utterly stupid. 

Eventually, Silco had gotten frustrated and rolled his eyes, grumbling that he wouldn’t go as he’d slunk off downstairs to no doubt drink the night away in the bar. 

This morning you’d woken with him fast asleep by the side of you in bed and, assuming he’d wasted the evening drinking himself dry, you thought nothing of it until later this afternoon when you’d found out the truth from Vander. 

Silco had gone Topside to scout out the building that housed the Sheriff’s office. 

Vander had desperately tried to reassure you that Silco wouldn’t have done anything stupid but it had done absolutely nothing to douse the flames of anger and hurt spreading through you. 

The damage was done. 

Now, salty tears finally drying on your cheeks, you stand in your shared bedroom packing your belongings into the rucksack laid out on your bed. 

Silco is still out running errands so there's a note placed carefully on the desk in your bedroom. It's not ideal, but it's for the best. 

However cowardly it makes you feel to reduce your breakup to a measly note, you're too emotionally drained to even think about having another argument with him.

You just can’t deal with it right now. 

Planning to stay with a friend until you found somewhere you could afford by yourself, you convince yourself that if he truly wants you back, if he truly wants to fix things, he’ll come and find you.

You’ve already packed the easy things, like most of your clothes and your toiletries from the bathroom. The real challenge now it would seem is the more sentimental items, like the pile of gifts currently lined up on the bed that you’d received from Silco over the years. 

The little toy poro he'd scrimped and saved to buy you for your birthday that one year. Or the matching sunglasses he'd stolen as a little souvenir from your third date. 

As you stare down at the gifts on the bed wondering if you’ll have enough room to bring them all, the door opens behind you.

You freeze, knowing exactly who it is before he’s even spoken. 

"There you are," Silco announces, his voice clearly tired but still laced with a hint of relief. "Vander said you were-" 

He cuts himself off as he undoubtedly takes in the state of the bedroom before speaking again in a tone of pure shock. 

"What are you doing?" 

You can’t bring yourself to answer so instead busy yourself with shoving all of the gifts into your bag before he can see them. 

"No," he breathes out from the doorway as it dawns on him. 

It sends a horrible pang of hurt ringing in your chest, only made worse when he pleadingly says your name.

"Please don't do this." 

"I have to, Silco," you sigh, trying to keep your heart as closed off as you can. It hurts enough as it is without you letting your emotions run wild. 

"You don't,” he says. “You don't have to." 

You stop answering because you can tell this particular line of conversation will just go in circles. 

Behind you, he shuts the door with a click and it irritates you into shoving more into the bag, no longer caring about being neat or if you should leave anything behind. 

"Is this because of what happened last week? I already told you that wasn't my fault," Silco continues when you don’t respond or turn to face him. 

He's referring to the incident where he almost got shot after taunting some enforcers for no good reason.

Truth be told, that incident had absolutely terrified you, but it was just one of the many reasons why you couldn’t keep doing this. 

"No, it isn't because of that," you say flatly. 

"Then why?" 

You finally turn to look at him, the first time since he’d left the bar this morning. (He looks gorgeous and like he's on the verge of heartbreak and you hate that you still love him despite it all.) 

"Where did you go last night?" you ask flatly, looking him square in the eyes.

As expected his expression instantly turns stony, but after years of learning and reading his tells, you can see the twitches of regret in his eyes. 

A few beats of silence pass and you know he’s too stubborn to admit it out loud. 

Your response is quiet. Resigned. 

"That's why."

Turning back round to face the bed, you begin to shove down all your belongings as far down into the bag as they can go, making sure you have enough room for the last bits that you know are in the wardrobe. 

"Look, I'm sorry for doing it behind your back, but I had to go," he starts, and it feels like the beginning of the heated argument that you were so desperately hoping to avoid.

Your cool facade broken, you whirl round to face him straight on, built-up ire finally pouring out of you in reams. 

"No, you didn't have to go! You went because you wanted to and you went even though I asked you- no, begged you not to," you yell at him.

He flinches minutely at the sudden raise in volume, but keeps his own voice calm and steady when he crafts his response. 

"You don't understand, this is important," he emphasises. "They cannot find out what we’re doing to fight against them, not when we’re this close to finally having the lives we deserve, that all of us deserve.”

It takes all your strength not to give in to his words and continue the argument with an incredulous scoff.

As if you don’t know all that. As if you didn’t spend your days fighting for Zaun as well. 

As if you didn’t fight every second for him. 

You shut it down immediately, twisting back round to face the bed. 

"I'm not doing this," you say blankly. 

"What?" he replies, clearly stunned. 

"I'm not arguing with you, Silco. I'm leaving." 

It breaks your heart to say it, but in this moment, you see no other way forward. Not if he’s going to keep on like this. 

Silco says nothing as you pack away the rest of your belongings into your bag, briefly recalling that you still have a few last bits in the wardrobe. You're almost certain that his anger is charging up in the silence, readying himself to launch into a whole speech about how wrong you are.

But when he does speak again, the sound of his choked-up voice feels like a shot directly to your heart.  

"You can't leave." 

Your heart sinks into your stomach and everything within you practically screams to cross the room and hug him, but you know that if you even look at him you’ll end up changing your mind. So, you move over to the wardrobe instead and pull open the doors to ensure he’s not in your line of sight. 

Silco says your name in that horribly soft timbre he only uses when he’s desperate and even though it pretty much tears you apart to ignore him, you focus on pulling the rest of your clothes from the closet.

He speaks your name again, this time even more desperately and you suddenly find yourself biting back tears. 

Fuck, why did he have to come home early? Why couldn't you just have some time to grieve by yourself? 

"Silco, it's over," you bite out, just wanting this horrible situation to be done with so you can work on healing. 

Finally moving into the room, you hear his footsteps creak on the old wooden floorboards behind you. 

You brace yourself for him to take your hand or wrap his arms around you but to your confusion, his footsteps halt in the centre of the room and you hear an unexpected rustling sound instead. 

Spinning around, you find Silco holding your backpack upside down in the air, emptying the contents back onto the bed with vigorous shakes. Your belongings drop onto the sheets in a crumpled mess, undoing all your work to get them all into the rucksack. 

Silco glares at the bag with tight-lipped hatred, as if it’s the reason you’re leaving, the longer strands of his hair falling down and bouncing with each rough movement of his arms. 

You stare at him in disbelief, your jaw slack until you find the words to confront him.  

"What the fuck, Silco? Put them back!"

He grips the bag even tighter. 

"No." 

And just like that, your astonishment slides into anger. 

"Silco," you warn, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Put. Them. Back." 

"Not if it means you'll stay," he replies obstinately. 

He continues to shake the bag but, ever the impatient boy, gets too frustrated and decides to drop the bag onto the bed. Rapidly taking out handfuls of your belongings until the backpack is empty, he then throws it at the wall furthest from you with a grunt. 

Silco’s gaze slides to look at you from across the room and you both stare at each other breathlessly, chests borderline heaving. 

A clear challenge. 

Unfortunately for Silco, you can be stubborn too. 

Without another word, you reach into the wardrobe and pull out his backpack, moving over to the other side of the bed to restart your packing. 

This time, Silco rushes around the bed to you and tries to grab your hand, but you pull it away, taking a step back. 

"Just stop-" 

"Please don't leave me," he pleads in the most heartbreaking, riven timbre you’ve ever heard him speak in and your heart wrenches. 

He sounds like the little boy you’d met all that time ago in those dark mines, the one who was so desperate to no longer be alone. 

"I'll do anything, I can't do this without you," he begs. 

"Do what without me?" 

"Any of it," he blurts out, running a distressed hand through his hair. "Some days, the only thing that gets me through the day is knowing that you'll be here when I get home."

Your insides jolt at such a vulnerable confession from such a headstrong man, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling you get when he suddenly drops to one knee in front of you, taking one of your hands in both of his. 

Heart racing ten to the dozen, you watch in horror as he glances up at you. 

He’d better not be doing what you think he’s doing…

"Silco-" 

"I love you," he says. "I love you more than anything in the world." 

You watch as tears line his lashes and soon find yourself matching. 

Fuck, you were expecting yelling and anger, not this. 

You’ve never seen him like this before. 

"Please," he repeats and it cracks your mask in two.

Your knees give out and you let yourself sink down onto the floor with him. 

Silco immediately throws his arms around you, only just stopping you from falling back with how quickly he presses his body against yours, burying his head in the crook of your neck. 

On instinct, you wrap your arms around his frame, one hand rubbing his back whilst the other cards through his inky strands as he rocks you gently from side to side. 

Little whispers of “Don't go,” and “I need you,” are mumbled into your hair, and you’re almost certain the wetness on your neck is from those tears that had been threatening to break free. You kindly decide not to mention it. 

Eventually, you sigh and rest your forehead on his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut in a pitiful attempt to ease the difficult conversation up ahead. 

"Sil, I can't keep doing this."

He sniffles a little and pulls back to look at you but doesn’t let go. (He never lets go.)

"Doing what?" he asks, brows furrowing in that cute little way he does when he’s confused about something. 

"Watching you destroy yourself." 

"I'm not-" 

"You are, Silco, and it's hurting me," you enunciate, holding his cheeks to force his gaze on you. He needs to understand how serious you are about this. 

The horrified expression on his face instinctively causes you to brush some of his hair back tenderly while he processes your words. 

"I want a better Zaun too, but not at the cost of you sacrificing yourself," you continue, keeping your voice quiet but firm. 

He’s clearly overwhelmed, seafoam eyes so wide and trenched in deep-rooted panic. But with a lack of response to distract you, you’re forced to take notice of the pain spreading through your back and legs at the awkward sitting position you’re in. 

You shift your body, pulling away from him to situate yourself in a comfier position, but the second you loosen your arms from his thin frame, his hand desperately grip you even tighter, clutching onto you like a child to their mother’s leg. 

"No, I-"

"I'm not going anywhere, I just need to move before my legs go numb," you’re quick to reassure him. 

At this, Silco relaxes slightly, allowing you to move so your back is resting against the side of the bed. His fingers clasp onto your shirt the entire time and the very second you’re planted in a spot that doesn’t completely ruin your spine, he pulls you against him once more. 

"What- What can I do to make you stay?" he says between a harsh swallow. 

 You sigh, swiping a hand across your face tiredly. 

"I need you to stop this ridiculous crusade you're on. Or," you add when he goes to protest, "at the very least, include the rest of us in it." 

He bites the inside of his lip and entwines his fingers with yours. 

"You can't keep making reckless decisions by yourself, Sil. It affects all of us. Especially me." 

Silco keeps quiet for a few moments, so you give him time to think while his thumb rhythmically traces your knuckles back and forth. 

This can’t be easy for him. He’s pretty independent by nature (most Undercity kids are), but Silco is especially so when it comes to the fight for Zaun’s freedom. 

But if he wants you to stay, you’re going to need some compromise. 

"Okay," he eventually says, breaking the silence to gaze at you with muted hope. 

You’re not letting him off that easily. 

"Okay what?" you say expectantly. 

He sighs and suddenly he’s transformed into that petulant little boy again. 

"Okay, I'll run things by you and Vander before making any big decisions," Silco heaves, like it physically pains him to say. 

"And?" you prompt with a raised eyebrow. 

Silco stares at you with a look of disbelief, but his lip is curled in clear disgust. 

"There's no way I'm running anything by Benzo," he scoffs. "It'd be more useful talking to a brick wall." 

You slap his arm half heartedly and bite back a laugh. 

"No! I meant, are you going to stop throwing yourself into stupid situations for no reason?" 

"I knew you were still upset about last week," Silco replies, a knowing expression melting across his features. 

"Of course I'm upset about it! They almost shot you!" you fire back with indignation. 

As if you wouldn’t be horrified at the idea of your boyfriend getting seriously hurt and potentially arrested just for being an idiot. 

Silco gently combs his fingers through your hair, eyes tracing your features as that smug little smirk you secretly adore colours his lips. 

"The key word in that sentence is almost, my lovely." 

The glare you level him with is met by a crooked grin, but it’s soon wiped off his face when you jab his stomach with your elbow, ignoring the “Oof,” in favour of cuddling up to him even closer.

Silco lets out a sigh of relief and rests his head against yours whilst one hand sneaks up behind you to surreptitiously wipe his eyes dry with his sleeve. 

You allow yourself to relax for a few quiet moments, slowly calming each other down with soft touches until your breathing syncs up with the boy holding you close to his chest. 

Silco soon murmurs into your hair, hand smoothing along your waist. 

"So you'll stay?" 

"Yes, I'll stay," you reply softly, nestling into the crook of his neck. 

It’s seemingly not enough to soothe his nerves because he leans back and tilts your chin up with one finger until you meet his anxious gaze. 

"You promise?" 

"I promise, Silco." 

Relief melts through his whole body, but with it brings a cool wash of physical and emotional exhaustion that you wish you could wipe clean. 

"You know you can always talk to me, right?” you tell him gently, pinky finger delicately tracing along one eyebrow until the lines of his face relax. “I know you're always so busy trying to keep us afloat but you don't have to do it all alone. You can tell me when things are bothering you, it doesn’t make you weak or ‘less of a man’." 

He gazes at you in profound wonder before lightly cupping one side of your face with his hand. 

"I really do love you," he whispers, tenderly tracing one thumb down your cheek.

It feels like the weight of your near-breakup is lifted off your shoulders when you finally say it back. 

"I love you too, Sil." 

He leans down to kiss your head and you find yourself desperately hoping that he keeps his promise. You never want to have to go through this again. 

But for now, graced with another chance to stay with the only person you’ve ever loved, you focus on the present, needing to change the heavy atmosphere stifling the room. Your tone shifts into a light, coy thing that immediately grabs his attention. 

"You know, if you hadn't rushed in all guns blazing last night you'd have had the chance to listen to my plan for getting the info we need," you tell him. "Y'know, one that wouldn't get you thrown in Stillwater." 

Silco stares at you with a frown and you struggle to keep in the smile that threatens to break. 

"What plan?" 

"The one where I seduce a poor, unsuspecting enforcer and use a bit of good old-fashioned lip service to get what we need," you say coquettishly, batting your eyelashes at him innocently despite the clear innuendo lacing your words. 

Instantly, (brilliantly), his seafoam eyes darken with a delicious combination of jealousy and lust, sending a spark of hot desire through your body. 

"Not in a million years," he says gruffly, pulling you even closer to him. 

You twirl a playful finger through your hair. 

"I don't know, I think it's a great plan if you ask me," you reply with an air of teasing nonchalance. 

"I wouldn't let you anywhere near them,” his grip tightens on the fabric by your waist. “You're mine.”

Leaning forward, you whisper in his ear, knowing exactly what it does to him. 

"Prove it." 

There’s a beat of electrified silence before Silco abruptly stands, pulling you up with him until you’re both on your feet.

He smoothly coils one arm around your waist, the other snaking around the nape of your neck until his lips hover tantalisingly above yours. And just when you think he’s about to finally close the gap, he pauses.

You frown, chest flooding with anxiety that you’ve done something wrong, or he’s changed his mind, or-

Silco removes the hand resting behind your head and before you can voice your concerns, he suddenly grabs the bed sheet, ripping it off the bed in a move that sends the mess of your once-packed belongings tumbling to the floor in a cacophony. 

"Silco!" you admonish him, already envisioning the amount of time and effort it would take to pick everything up and put it back in its rightful place. 

"What?” he says, like butter wouldn’t melt. “We can put it back in the morning." 

Then, he swiftly picks you up and tosses you onto the mattress, making you squeal in surprise. 

Silco kneels onto the bed and climbs until his body is hovering over yours, arms caging you in as you heat up, warmth flooding downwards in anticipation. 

"Now, I think it's time I make it up to you, sweetheart," he purrs, leaning down to hotly trace your ear with his lips. “I’m going to make sure you never want to leave this bed again.”

- A/N: don’t mind me, just casually obsessed with the idea of silco emptying out your bag to desperately stop you from leaving and then frenziedly trying to propose to you when he doesn’t know to deal with his emotions 💁‍♀️

Y/n: “awww he’s just a little guy!”

Sevika: “He’s older than you. Ancient, even.”

Y/n, cupping Silco’s face and cooing: “a baby!”

Sevika: “He’s The eye of Zaun. Murderer, drug dealer.. ring any bells?”

Y/n: “my baby.”

How I think that top-secret time on Kashyyyk would have gone. Yoda would probably like the other three but Crosshair would be more likely to drive him to insanity.

the dirty little thing

Hands to Himself

Summary: Hunter’s senses have been driving him mad when it came to you. So when Crosshair approached him with a proposition he could hardly refuse.

Pairing: Hunter x Reader x Crosshair

Word count: 3,2K

Warnings: smut, so minors DNI; this is pure unadultered filth; threesome, cuckolding

Notes: Sooooo… this happened. I have never once written smut and when I finally decided to try my hand at it I ended up writing the filthiest nastiest thing possible, oh my god. Please forgive me. So yeah, that’s that.

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Masterlist | Read on AO3

He was going insane. Absolutely, downright mad. It was overwhelming, he almost couldn’t breathe, his breath coming out in short pants more than anything. His ears were ringing and his mouth was going numb from the exertion. If he could just move his hands, lift his arms and grab onto you he could-

“Don’t you kriffing dare, Hunter.” he could practically hear Crosshair’s sneer even though he couldn’t see him.

This was pure torture. Your scent was overcrowding his senses and he had nothing to ground himself. There was a pressure around his skull, and he felt like the soft lull of back and forth and back and forth and back and forth would eventually end up breaking his nose.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” he heard Crosshair’s voice once again “Just like that, keep going.”

How had he gotten into this situation in the first place?

After being deemed by GAR officials too reckless to be left unsupervised, the Bad Batch had been assigned an on-board medic. Knowing they wouldn’t take kindly to a reg, Commander Cody interceded in their favor and got them a natborn instead. That’s when Hunter’s problems began.

From the first moment he laid eyes on you he knew he was screwed. He found you really attractive, how could he not? And it didn’t help that your kindness towards him and his brothers made you all the more attractive to him. But he respected you and your place in this squad too much to do something about it and in the end the one who ended up winning your heart was Crosshair.

Although the feelings he once nurtured for you were long gone (even though they often didn’t see eye to eye, Crosshair was still his brother whom he loved and respected very much and he wasn’t just about to get in between the two of you) he still found you very physically attractive. And what’s worse, his heightened senses turned out to be a curse when it came to you.

He could smell you. Your scent, soft without being overly sweet, was a comforting presence on the ship, but once you and Crosshair started seeing each other (and even before that) he could smell your arousal dripping from you. Whenever Crosshair was near you he could sense it coming from you in waves, assaulting his nose as he heard your heartbeat increase ever so slightly. It even happened on the battlefield, whenever Crosshair did a neat trick with his rifle (and Hunter knew half the time his brother didn’t have to go such lengths to take the shot, the smug bastard was only showing off to you) he could smell your arousal even through the gunpowder and fried clanker smoke.

And when you and Crosshair locked yourselves in the bunks on the Marauder? It drove him absolutely insane. Everyone knew what you were up to, but only he could smell the sweat dripping from your skin, mixed with both yours and Crosshair’s arousal. Only he could hear the muffled sounds the two of you made, no matter how quiet you tried to be. He once had to physically restrain himself to not palm his hardening cock as he heard all of it, the breathless way in which you moaned his brother’s name, the little mewls you let out when he hit a particularly intense spot, the wet squelch of your cunt as it Crosshair dragged his cock in and out against your walls, the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin that increased and slowed in speed (which didn’t help at all his active imagination as he pictured you on your knees, your head shoved into a pillow and Crosshair kneeled behind you as he pounded into you, his hips hitting your ass as he rapidly brought you close to the edge only to slow down all of sudden, edging you), all the while the heavy scent of sex assaulted his senses.

So when Crosshair approached him with a proposition, he could hardly refuse. He didn’t even think before agreeing to it, anything to get a little respite from his torment. If he only knew how much more torturous the whole experience would be he would have thought twice before saying yes.

Crosshair had pulled him aside after a particularly rough mission, the pent up energy filling all of them, and let him in on your most recent conversation. Apparently, in a hypothetical discussion as you both came down from your highs one time, the topic of threesomes had come up. Crosshair quickly shot down the idea of sharing you with the regs, and even other natborns, but he wasn’t opposed to doing it with his brothers. Honestly, the first thing Hunter felt after he processed the whole thing was flattered, he felt honored that his brother trusted him enough to share this moment with you two, because he knew how much Crosshair loved and cared for you, which usually translated into silent possessiveness. So he found himself eagerly nodding along, his cock already twitching just from thinking about it.

Crosshair had sat some ground rules. Rule number one: you were the one in charge of everything. If you wanted to stop, or slow down, your word was sacred. Rule number two: Hunter could not, under any circumstance, cum inside your cunt. Inside your mouth or anywhere else on your body, sure, but your pussy was Crosshair’s to claim as his own, and only he could fill you up. Lastly, rule number three: he had to follow whatever Crosshair said, he was the one in charge of everything (second only to you). And of course the little shit would use this advantage to antagonize his sergeant, who should absolutely have seen this coming.

And that’s how Hunter found himself in his current position, his back flat against his bunk rock hard, both your thighs clamped around each side of his head as you slowly rode his face, all the while Crosshair sat in his own bunk across from the two of you watching the whole thing. The kicker? He wasn’t allowed to touch you. Crosshair had told him he had to keep his hands to himself at all times, otherwise the whole thing would stop and his punishment would be to switch places with his brother and watch as Crosshair absolutely railed you into next week without an ounce of relieve for himself.

So you decided to start off by taking your pleasure from him, sitting on his face and ever so slowly rocking your hips against his lips. The smell was absolutely overwhelming, your intoxicating scent so much stronger when he was directly in contact with your dripping cunt. His tongue lapped at your juices, trying to soak in you and commit the feeling to memory, but you were going too slowly. If only he could grab onto your hips, your ass, anything to roughly pull you closer to him he could eat you out properly.

“Don’t even think about it.” he heard Crosshair hiss at him.

He had to literally sit on top of his hands to stop from reaching out for you, which pulled a dark chuckle from his brother.

“You should see how hard he’s trying, kitten. He just can’t help himself now, can you vod?” Crosshair continued, and Hunter could hear the slow incessant squelch of him tugging on his own cock as he watched the scene unfold “How could he? When he’s under such perfection, like he always wanted. Because you have, haven’t you? Dreamed about this moment? About fucking my girl? My beautiful, perfect girl?”    

Hunter felt the tip of his ears burn, ashamed of having been caught, but he could hardly bring himself to care. Especially when your hips bucked in response to your lover’s praise, your clit bumping against his prominent nose, making you moan.

“Is he making you feel good, kitten? Tell him how good he’s making you feel.” Crosshair hissed, squeezing around the base of his cock.

“So good.” you moaned breathlessly “He’s making me feel so good…”

“Oh I can see that, doll, no need to tell that to me.” Crosshair chuckled “Tell him.”

“You’re wonderful, Hunter. You’re making me feel so good.” he heard you say from above him, and he couldn’t help but preen a little “You’re so good to me, Sarge.”

He felt his cock twitching violently and for a moment he felt he would cum from your praise alone.

“Do that again, he enjoyed it.” he heard his brother sneer.

“Oh yeah?” a breezy giggle escaped from your lips as you reached down and raked your fingers through his hair “You like it when I call you Sarge, sir?”

He moaned loudly into you, his whole body tense. The vibrations against your cunt sent you careening forward, your cheek resting against the wall in front of you. The new position, your ass a little higher in the air, placed your clit perfectly above Hunter’s mouth, to which his lips quickly latched onto and started sucking hard, earning another moan from you.

“That’s it, keep going like that, love.”

You rocked your hips ever so slightly and he alternated between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking on it, almost hollowing his cheeks. The sounds you were making, maker, he would commit them to memory.

“Tell me, love, is he making you feel good?” Crosshair asked, his own tone starting to sound breathless.

“Stars, yes!” you tugged slightly on Hunter’s hair, making his whole body spasm “So good!”

“Better than I can?”

“No, never. Only you, Cross.” you mumbled, starting to sound incoherent, but your voice adopted a lighter tone and Hunter knew you were about to do something only you could do without consequences: teasing Crosshair “Although his nose is perfect.”

“Careful, doll” Crosshair teased right back, but Hunter could hear just a tinge of venom lacing his tone “I might start feeling jealous.”

You kept going above him, riding his face and tugging on his hair and Hunter started shaking with the effort not to touch you. You and Crosshair would occasionally swap teasing jabs at one another and, although he would never admit it, Hunter started feeling a little jealous himself. In an attempt to bring your attention back to him, he pulled your clit between his teeth, nipping softly on it, careful not to hurt you. And that’s what sent you over the edge, your thighs shaking around his head, screaming his name as your orgasm washed over you, your cunt creaming his face even more. You kept on rocking your hips, slower and slower, as you came down from your high. Once you rode it out, your movements stopped completely.

“Alright, that’s enough.” he heard Crosshair get up after a moment and walk closer to the two of you.

As Crosshair helped you get up, Hunter drew a sharp breath, gasping for air as if he had been underwater for a long while. He could finally think more clearly with your scent no longer crowding him, and he thought it was over. But oh, how wrong he was.

“On your knees and turn around.” he heard him say.

“Wha’…?” apparently his reaction time had been slowed down, much to Crosshair’s dislike. Before he could even wipe his face clean he felt his brother grab him by the shoulders, roughly shoving him around and positioning him to his liking, on his knees on the bunk.

“Hands behind your back.” although he could hardly think straight, he thought it was better to obey than risk making him angry. He then felt his bandana being pulled from his head, his slick hair, damp with sweat, falling on his eyes as Crosshair tied his hands back. Once he was satisfied with his work, giving it a small tug to certify it was well tied, he sat back down on his bunk and looked at you.

“On your hands and knees.”

Without wasting a second, you positioned yourself how he wanted you and, maker, weren’t you a sight to behold. Hunter’s vision, normally very sharp and acute, focused on your glistening folds, dripping with pleasure and, he felt a twinge of pride, his saliva, making him tune out almost everything else around him.

“Now fuck her.”

His neck snapped so quickly to look at his brother that he almost gave himself whiplash.

“Don’t look so surprised, Hunter. Isn’t this what you’ve wanted all along?” Crosshair smirked, clearly proud of making his sergeant stunned “And besides, you wouldn’t to keep the lady waiting when she’s practically begging for you.”

“Please, sir!” his attention turned back towards you as you whined “Please, fuck me. I need you, Hunter.” 

That was all he needed before he shoved his cock into you (although aligning with your entrance proved a little challenging without the use of his hands), bottoming out in one single thrust, which elicited a strangled moan of his name from you. Normally, he would have been more careful, inching his cock slowly inside of you (he prided himself in being a gentleman, second only to Echo, when him and his brothers occasionally talked about their escapades at 79’s) but he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Everything about this situation, about you, made his brain short-circuit and him to lose control of himself. Once he knew he couldn’t go any deeper, feeling your cunt wrapped tightly around every inch of his cock, he pulled out almost all the way and slammed back inside. He set a fast pace, grunting as he pounded hard into you, the sound of his hips smacking against your ass almost overwhelming as your cunt stretched around his cock, the wetness left behind by your previous orgasm offering little resistance to his ministrations.

He tried, oh he tried to keep going, your shouts of his name spurring him on to fuck you just a little harder, a little faster, but he was having a hard time balancing himself without his hands, his knees hurting a bit from their position on the bunk. Hunter kept going a little longer, but he could barely hold himself up and he knew if he were to bend down over you and drape himself against your back he would send the both of you tumbling down onto the mattress.

“Please…!” he groaned.

“Getting tired, vod?” Crosshair asked, once again lazily working on his own length. Hunter nodded but apparently that wasn’t enough for his brother “Use your words.”

“Yes, I’m getting tired…” he drawled out, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Crosshair hummed, contemplating the situation.

“Turn around for him, doll.” he said.

Once Hunter’s hips slowed to a stop, you maneuvered on the bunk, lying on your back. He didn’t waste a second before entering you again, slamming into your cunt and resuming his pace. This time, however, he allowed himself to fall down on top of you, his face tucked on the crook of your neck as he kept fucking you as if his life depended on it.

“Oh, Hunter…!” you snaked your arms around his broad shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself, your legs framing his waist as his hips snapped into yours.

He kept on going, mouthing at the skin of your neck, his teeth slightly grazing your pulse point. He tried to get you to tumble over the edge on a second orgasm but it was too much; his hips started stuttering, his thrusts getting sloppy, and he knew he wouldn’t last for much longer.

“It’s okay,” you whispered on his ear, tugging softly on his locks, making him shudder “You can let go, Sarge.”

“Just remember what I told you.” Crosshair piped up from his bunk.

He remembered, he couldn’t cum inside of you but maker, did he want to. Some irrational, animalistic part of his brain wanted to shove his cock so deep in your cunt as you milked him of every last drop of his spend. But he wouldn’t, he respected you and Crosshair and your relationship too much to do the one thing he was asked not to do. So he pulled out, his seed painting the skin right above your navel. Once he was done he sagged against you, panting, as he tried to regain his breath.

“That’s it, Sarge, you did so well, you were so good for me.” you kept whispering in his ear as he came down, his senses still in overdrive. You softly raked your nails on his scalp, brushing his tangled locks, which helped grounding him, giving him a sense of security.

Hunter barely heard Crosshair walking up behind him and untying his wrists. All he could feel was the expanse of your skin against his as he recovered. Once he felt his heart rate slow down almost to its normal levels and his ears stopped ringing, he carefully raised his head, peering at you from under heavy eyelids. He reached up, his hand sore from its previous position, and cupped your cheek, his thumb swiping across your lower lip as he placed the softest of kisses on your chin.

“Careful, Hunter.” he heard Crosshair snarl under his breath, which prompted him to move and get off you “Now step back so I can fuck my girl properly.”

As Hunter got up and sat on Crosshair’s bunk across from you, he watched as his brother occupied his previous position and shoved two long fingers inside of you, his thumb rubbing furiously on your clit. His other hand started stroking his cock, working quickly up and down. You writhed, practically screaming his name, getting closer and closer. If Hunter wasn’t absolutely spent, his cock would be hardening all over again.

Once he felt your cunt tightening around his fingers Crosshair quickly pulled them out of you, replacing it with his cock in a single stroke and kissing you deeply. The shock of it was enough to send you over the edge, your orgasm triggering his own as he painted your walls in warm ropes of his cum.

Crosshair laid gentle, lazy kisses on your lips as you both came down, pecking your lips softly. His eyes eventually found Hunter’s but instead of stopping, he only deepened the kisses, his tongue slipping inside your mouth as he kissed you, still keeping a lazy pace.

Mine, his eyes said.

Bastard, Hunter’s own eyes answered.

He eventually parted from your lips with a loud and wet smack, his softening cock still nestled inside of you.

“Well,” he mumbled, tiredly “this has been fun.”

Hunter knew how to take a not so subtle hint, collecting his clothes and throwing them back on quickly before walking to the door that lead to the hull of the ship. Before he could open it, however, he turned back towards the two of you.

“Thank you,” he locked eyes with you “for everything.”

You smiled at him, your eyes bright.

“Thank you Hunter.” then your smile turned into a mirthful smirk “Perhaps we can do this again sometime.”

He then looked at Crosshair, who was watching the whole exchange intensely. For a moment he thought his brother was jealous, mad even, but then he nodded, only once, his silent way of saying everything was alright. Hunter returned the nod in agreement.

 Just as he turned around to walk out the door he heard Crosshair whisper.

“Perhaps we can invite de others next time.”

Oh. Hunter felt his heart stir pleasantly at the thought of getting to share you not only with Crosshair but with his other brothers as well.

“Only if Tech agrees to give me a copy of the recording he capture on his goggles.”

Hunter chuckled and walked out of the room, the door closing behind him as Crosshair answered.

“It’s a deal.”

Fine I'll watch rebels again to feed myself rex content

Okay I admit I got a crush on you and your brothers what can I say a girl has her taste in men.

Also - DO NOT DIE ON ME

It's a mighty fine taste, to be sure.

I can't promise anythin' but I mean... I look good with a beard.

Wrecker: When are you gonna fall in love?

Crosshair: I can’t even fall asleep.

pretty noises

 hunter x fem!reader 18+

GIF NOT MINE

wc: 524ish

warnings: unprotected sex, little bit of exhibitionism, little bit of voyeurism, use of good girl, this is trashhhhh, begging, I don’t think theres anything else besides this is hot garbage 

Your breathy moans filled their barracks, barely above the noise of the rain that hit the window. They should all be sleeping but how could they when your sounds of pleasure are sweet coming from under their sergeant. He sure knew they were listening, but he was focused on the way your face looked as he devoured your clit with two fingers in you. 

“All those pretty noises mesh’la you might wake the boys up” Hunter says pulling away for a moment before starting to mark your thighs with love bites. Your walls clenched around his fingers at the thought. “Seems like you might be a little exhibitionist cyar’ika” you couldn’t contain the moan that came out. If they weren’t all hard already that moan did the job. Reaching into the bottom halves of their blacks to stroke their aching lengths may have been a bad thought when it first crossed their minds but to hell with that. All freeing themselves stroking to the sounds of your moans. 

“They’re listening so be a good girl and give them a good show” the words whispered gravelly in your ear before his teeth nipped your earlobe. His thumb found your clit rubbing it to the edge of your first orgasm of the night. He stopped when your body gave its first sign of release. The whine you released was the sound of angels singing to the batch. The babbling of begging Hunter to let you cum had him chuckling.  “I bet if you use your big girl words to beg, I’ll let you cum all over my fingers.”

“Please let me cum sarge” your pleading making each cock in the room twitch in anticipation. He returned to rubbing your clit with his thumb while his mouth explored your breasts leaving marks before taking a nipple in his mouth tugging it between his teeth. That brought you to the edge again, Hunter gave you a nod signaling you have his permission to cum. Your guttural moan filled the barracks, if they weren’t already awake bringing themselves to release that would have woken them up. He positioned himself between your legs, his leaking tip grazed your clit and teased your entrance before his hips snapped into you. He groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. Each thrust into you made you moan louder. Wrecker was the first to indicate being awake and listening when he cursed after releasing all over his hand. The sounds he made after releasing made your stomach flutter. Your legs were wrapped tightly around Hunter as he started thrusting into you faster. The way his cock twitched you could tell he was close. His groans filled your ears while your nails raked down his back. 

“Where do you want me?” his question came out sounding rough but also soft. 

“inside please” the neediness in your voice caused him to come undone, releasing a deep groan in your ear before placing a kiss on your shoulder.

 “When you’re ready for another round doll come to my bunk” Crosshair’s voice broke the moment of silence sending you into a fit of tired giggles.  

Hunter: What’s the expression? Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice... fiddle-dee-dee.

Crosshair: Fool me once, and I’ll be fooled for a day. Teach me how to fool people, and I’ll be fooled for the rest of my life.

Wrecker: Fool me once, fool me twice, fool me chicken soup with rice.

Tech: I do believe that’s the expression.

Crosshair when Y/N isnt giving him attention