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wild-karrde · 1 year

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Part 2: The Pillar

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A/N: ALRIGHTY THEN. Did I intend to write a part 2 for this little ficlet from my 400 follower celebration? No. Did I do it anyway and use it as an excuse to introduce my OC Crater? Yes. Will there be a Part 3? Also yes. I REGRET NOTHING. The biggest of thank you's to @teletraan-meets-jarvis, @sleepingsun501, and @rexxdjarin for helping me make sure my boy gets the best intro and that all of the thoughts/thots about him in my head translated well onto paper! If you'd like a little more info about Crater, you can find his character sheet here.

Pairings: OC Crater x f!Reader, mentioned Gregor x f!Reader

Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE)

Warnings: language, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, fingering, rough sex, anal play, oral sex, PiV sex, marking, anal sex, sex toy use, cum eating, mention of foursome

Word Count: 13.5k words (I'm sorry... it got away from me so fast)

“KARKING HELLS, CHUCK! Do you have mynock shit between your ears instead of brains?”

You’re angry. Angrier than you’ve been in a while. And Chuckles isn’t backing down either.

“I don’t know who the kriff you think you’re talking to, Bolts, but you’d better take a walk before we both say something we’ll regret,” he grits out, teeth clenched and a fire in his eyes.

But you’re not about to be told what’s what. Not when he’s on your turf.

“It’s my fucking garage. You don’t like what I’ve got to say? You take a walk.” You jab your finger into his plastoid chestplate threateningly. His nostrils flare as he glares at you, and you can see him teetering on the edge of control.

You’ve gathered a bit of an audience as you and the mohawked clone pilot go nose to nose, some of which are snickering and “ooooh”-ing.

“Your garage?” Chuckles snarls.

“Yeah, in case you missed it, I run shit around here. And I’m telling you I can’t get your fucking fighter fixed until next week.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“You should have thought about that before smoking your stabilizers flying like a fucking hotshot.”

“You sure you wanna tell me how to fly my ship, Bolts?”

“Since you don’t seem to have an idea how to, sure.”

The vein in his neck is bulging now, and the scar at the corner of his mouth is pulled tight. You’ve known Chuckles long enough to tell that you’ve pushed all the right buttons to get a rise out of him.

Good. Asshole.

“I thought Gregor fucked the grump out of her,” Strike mutters from his seat on a crate, which garners more snickers. You whirl on him, brandishing a wrench and waving it menacingly at the pilot.

“You want me to fix your face next, shithead? Got the only thing I need for that right here.”

Strike scowls, pushing himself to a standing position. “You’re out of line, Bolts.”

“I’m out of line? Fuck you.”

“That’s enough.”

The jeers and laughter grow silent and the crowd parts as the commanding officer of the 28th Combat Wing strides forward, carrying his helmet under one arm. Crater’s voice is gruff as he steps in between Chuckles and you, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“She’s right, and you know it Chuckles. You’ve been told before not to fly in that config. You know it burns out the stabs faster. Now, I’m sure you’ll get your fighter as quickly as Bolts can get to it. Isn’t that right, Bolts?”

You glare at him, but his eyes demand a response. “When I get the parts.”

Crater watches you for another moment before nodding. He seems to understand that’s as much of a concession as he’s going to get out of you right now.

And then he whirls on Strike. “And you will learn to hold your fucking tongue. We don’t do that shit here. You want to air other people’s business out in front of everyone? You go run for the fucking senate. Until then, you keep the scuttlebutt you hear to yourself.”

“Didn’t hear anything. Just not hard to put two and two together,” Strike mutters under his breath.

Crater strides forward until he’s looming over Strike. They’re the same height, but somehow, the captain towers over the other pilot. His tone is low and dangerous, his voice dropping to a gravelly octave that makes you shiver. “I know you haven’t been off of Kamino long, but around here, you don’t speak to a commanding officer that way. Especially when you don’t have a single scratch on that shiny fucking armor.”

Strike swallows slightly but says nothing else.

Crater glares down at him for one more second, pinning him with his gaze before he turns and addresses the rest of the onlookers. “Now all of you get to the fucking barracks and get cleaned up. You stink to the seven hells.”

The squad departs, some of them still shooting dirty looks over their shoulders at you, especially Chuckles.

He’ll get over it.

You turn on your heel, heading towards your private office in the corner of the garage. The door’s been off track for a while, so you slam it open unceremoniously and stride inside. Just as you go to slide it shut with a grunt, a gloved hand slips around the edge, keeping it open. You glance up and meet Crater’s eyes.

“Can we talk?”

You shrug, stepping away from the door and plopping down on the creaky chair by your desk. The joints protest as you lean back in it, threatening to finally give out and dump you on your ass. Crater shuts the door behind him before setting his helmet on your desk and leaning a shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms as he studies you. He looks tired, and you’re not sure if it’s the campaign he just got back from or his men or you. A small pang of guilt shoots through you as he meets your eyes, raising his scarred eyebrow at you.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?”

You sniff, shrugging as you pick some lint off your jumpsuit. “Nothin’. Just a scuffle.”

“Seems like you’re getting into more and more of those.”

You and Crater have always gotten along just fine, finding a mutual respect and trust almost immediately. He always seems to have everything figured out, and you’ve never seen him fly off the handle like some of his brothers. In fact, the incident in the garage just now is the most upset you’ve seen him, and even that was hardly more than a growl and a few threats. You admire his leadership. He always seems to find the right thing to say to each of the various personalities on his squad, but sometimes you dislike when he deploys the same understanding on you. It unnerves you to a degree.

Now, you roll your eyes at his observation, astute as it is. “Your boys don’t listen, Crate. Neither do any of the other flyboys that come through here. Everyone’s shit is broken because they can’t be bothered to fly with an ounce of sensibility, and then they’re all pissed when it takes time to get repairs done.” You wave your hand at the stacks of datapads and flimsi that are stacked on your desk. “I’ve got backorders on backorders, out-of-date maintenance logs, you name it. But I’m one person. And there’s not exactly a line to come work down here.”

“You’re stressed,” he notes.

“No shit.”

“Overwhelmed.”

“Tired of giving orders and making requests that are ignored.”

“Tired of being in charge?”

“Sometimes. Yeah,” you admit. “But someone has to be.”

He nods. “When’s Gregor planetside again?”

You glare at him, but he gives you a knowing look. You sigh. “Who the kriff knows? That’s not a regular thing, by the way. Just a way to blow off steam. But it’s been months since I saw him last. Seems he’s being kept busy.” You worry about the commando sometimes, but you’re not about to admit it. Judging by the look Crater gives you, you don’t need to.

“And you were more tolerable when it was happening,” he teases.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m on my own in that department for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t know why you feel comfortable talking with him about Gregor. Probably because it felt less like an accusation and more of just a concerned observation, not like he was looking to get more gossip at your expense.

Because you trust him. Maybe too much.

Crater is quiet for a moment, watching you carefully, clearly weighing something.

“What?”

He smirks.

“Well, if you’d ever like to blow off some steam, let me know. But you can’t keep taking it out on my men.”

You snort out a laugh. “Crate, I don’t think you can help with that.”

“Oh, I think I could.”

“How so?” Your curiosity is piqued, particularly with the way his grin is playful but his eyes have darkened considerably. You’re in denial internally about what he might be implying, but that only lasts for another second as Crater huffs a quiet laugh before closing the distance between you. He puts one gloved hand on your desk, leaning over you as his other hand comes to rest just above your shoulder, gripping the back of your chair. Your stomach flutters as he stares down at you, tilted back in your chair so far you feel as though you’d tip over if he let go. The chair creaks, but you hardly note it over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. You can feel his breath on your cheek and your cunt throbs at the realization he’s standing between your knees, your toes barely touching the floor with the way he has you tipped backward. You feel as though you can’t breathe. He’s studying you again, clearly making a final judgment call before he speaks.

“I think you’d like someone else to take charge for once. So you can let go.”

His voice is so low, it feels as though it rumbles every organ in you and sends shivers down your spine. He’s so close, you can smell him, see the tattoos on his neck that just barely poke out above the collar of his black undersuit, and the greys that are beginning to dot his dark chestnut beard and hair. You’ve always thought Crater was attractive. You’d have to be blind not to, but you’d never anticipated having him lean over you like this, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he suggests things like that.

At least, you think that’s what he’s suggesting.

You can’t help but tremble slightly at the thought as his eyes bore holes into yours. Your thighs clench together subconsciously, and his eyes dart downwards, watching you squirm. He laughs in a low rasp that promises trouble, straightening and picking his helmet up off the desk. You haven’t moved, but he’s already at your door, pushing it open again.

“Remember what I said, Bolts. All of it.”

And with that, he’s gone.

—

Weeks pass. Nothing gets better. If anything, things get worse. A major supply hyperspace lane gets shut down by Separatist forces, meaning parts are even harder to come by, causing even more delays. At least the clone pilots seem more understanding, the 28th Wing in particular. You aren’t sure if Crater privately met with his men, but they have been suddenly more lenient with you. The natborns, however, make up for it by being infinitely more terrible.

“THIS IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE,” one particularly surly human admiral rants, spittle flying unchecked as you don’t even bother looking up from your datapad. “You are to have those fighters ready to go within a rotation. That is an order.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, Admiral, I don’t take orders from the GAR,” you mutter. “And unless you’ve got a stash of converters, stabilizers, hyperdrive capacitors, and power couplings in your back pocket, no, your fighters will not be ready to go in a rotation.”

“I’ll have your job for this.”

You’re exhausted, but can’t help but give him a smug smirk, nudging him even closer to an explosion. He’s easy prey in that respect, hardly sporting, but it’s been a miserable week, and you’re ready to have some fun. He’s not the first officer to try to intimidate you with unemployment, and you know he’s unlikely to be the last. But you also know it’s an empty threat. No one else could handle this work. If that person existed, the GAR would already have hired them since you’ve pissed off everyone else.

“I have work to do, Admiral. So if you’re done bloviating, get out of my office and try to have a lovely evening.”

The man is practically purple with rage, veins bulging from his throat above his tight Republic collar. He clearly isn’t used to having people check him, and his response is even more telling.

“I’d heard you were challenging, but really, you’re just a frigid little bitch.”

That does it.

You stand, kicking your seat away from you. It rolls into the back wall with a loud crash. “You wanna try that again, Admiral?” you ask, charging towards him with anger heating your cheeks. He’s taller than you, but that’s never stopped you, and you certainly aren’t going to let some washed-up asshole that reeks of stale caf and cheap cologne talk to you like that in your own office. His fists clench, and you almost hope he swings first so you have an excuse to pummel him right there.

“Problem in here?”

You both whirl to look at the doorway. There stands Crater, helmet on and cocked to the side as he studies the both of you. His posture is completely relaxed, as if he didn’t just walk in on the start of a physical altercation.

It takes all of the wind out of your sails.

The admiral turns and smirks down at you, clearly convinced he’s won by your reaction. “I was just leaving.” He pushes past Crater, exiting the office. Crater’s visor never leaves you, but you can’t look at him.

You’re fuming. Angry that nothing’s going right. Angry that your garage can’t run efficiently and the reasons are completely out of your control. Angry that you didn’t sock that admiral in the jaw. Angry that he got the best of you and he knows it.

Crater says your name, but you don’t look up, trying to slow your breathing. He sighs and turns to leave.

You make a decision.

“Captain.”

He turns back.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you plunge into uncharted territory.

“I’ll take you up on that offer you made a few weeks back.”

He doesn’t move for a moment before, clearly making sure you won’t change your mind. Some of your fire returns at his hesitation, and you jut your chin out defiantly.

“Chickening out on me?” you challenge.

In an instant, he’s closed the distance between you and has backed you up against the wall. Your breath fogs his visor as he stares down at you, resting his hand against your throat.

“You certain you want to be a brat right out of the gate?”

You swallow hard, feeling the gloved palm of his hand press against your neck.

“Might want to pace yourself. Otherwise you’ll be in for a long night,” he warns.

“What makes you think that isn’t what I was hoping for?”

He chuckles darkly, and the helmet’s modulator seems to make it even more intimidating.

“What are your hard no’s?”

“You’ll be hard-pressed to find them,” you reply. Your mouth is dry, but other places are already soaking. You’re almost glad he has you braced against the wall because your knees suddenly feel gelatinous beneath you.

He tilts his head. “Think on it a bit more. Have an answer when I come back from my briefing. Then we’ll begin.” He releases your throat and steps back. “Be ready.”

He once again leaves you alone in your office, shivering in his absence.

How the fuck do I get ready for this?

You brush your hair out of your face, catching a glance at your reflection in the small mirror you have stuck to one wall. You’re covered in grease and sweat, and your hair is sticking out at odd angles.

A shower then.

You’re glad the day’s over as you slide your office door closed. It would be hard to concentrate on anything else right now. You push through the door that connects to the small apartment and refresher that have become your home away from home. It had been one of your few stipulations when you took the job, knowing you’d rarely make it back down to your lower-level Coruscant apartment. It had originally been a large storage closet, but with some work, you’d converted it into a decent-sized bedroom, stacking a few changes of clothes in an empty crate in one corner. The bed was at least comfortable, tucked up against one wall with a small bedside table next to it. You quickly shove the dirty clothes strewn on the floor in a corner before shucking off your jumpsuit and hurriedly showering. You don’t have any sort of lingerie or anything remotely alluring here, and you’re considering what to wear while wrapped in a towel when you hear a soft knock at your door.

You turn and find Crater’s silhouette looming there, blocking out the dim light of your office.

“That was a quick briefing.”

He shrugs as if he’s used to coming upon you in only a towel.

“You shut the office door?” you ask.

“Yes. And you should really get that fixed.” His helmet is off, and his dark eyes are roving over you and your towel-covered body.

“Add it to my list,” you mutter, trying to maintain some sort of confidence under his stare. “I’m sure that admiral will be so pleased to hear it takes priority over his fighters.”

He snorts in amusement as he steps into the room, shutting the apartment door behind him. He sets the helmet on the ground before he starts peeling off the top half of his armor, one piece of plastoid at a time, and neatly stacking it in the corner.

“Did you think more on what your hard no’s are?” he asks.

You’d come up with a few and rattle them off.

“Those are fairly extreme. Don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” he rasps. The top half of his armor is completely off now, and he rolls up the sleeves of his black shirt as he approaches you, circling you slowly. “But I’m glad you put serious thought into it and came up with something.”

“You got anything I need to avoid doing?” you ask, trying not to nervously rock on your heels. You’d rarely had issues with people seeing you naked, but for some reason, Crater’s gaze has you feeling timid, even with the towel still hiding your body.

“I don’t think you’ll get there, but I’ll let you know if you get close,” he replies as he comes to a stop in front of you. His sleeves are rolled all the way to his elbows, and you can see the tendrils of the other end of his tattoos poking out on his forearms. You’d never realized how far his tattoos stretched, only ever having seen the fine lines that poked out of the collar of his shirt. Now, you find you want to know how much of his skin is inked and how far the pattern stretches.

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous.”

You flush, but raise your eyes to meet his steady gaze. He’s watching you carefully and fuck, you want to squirm with him looking at you like that.

“So you respond to praise then. You prefer that?”

You shrug. “Could go both ways.”

“Where would you like me to cum?”

You can’t help but smirk at that question, but his expression is stern. “Wherever you like,” you reply. “I’ve got an implant.”

He hums, gently brushing some of your damp hair out of your face, a tender gesture that contrasts sharply with his next question. “May I mark you?”

“Nowhere the jumpsuit can’t cover.”

“How rough would you like me to be?”

You think for a moment. “Breathplay is good. Impact too. Bruising is fine. Nothing that would draw blood.”

He smirks. “Good girl.”

Your thighs rub together, and he notices, huffing a quiet laugh.

“Toys I can use?”

You point to the bedside table. “In that drawer.”

“You know the color system?”

You nod.

“Give me your definitions.”

“Green is good. Yellow is slow down. Red is stop.”

“And if you can’t verbally communicate?”

“Three taps.” You reach out and demonstrate on his chest, letting your fingertips rest there.

He catches your hand. “I want to be very clear here. You are under no obligation to do anything with me. And if you say red, we stop. No debate, no questions. This is for your benefit, so I’ll push, but when I hit a limit, you have to let me know. Deal?”

You can’t help but smile there. “Deal.”

“Any other last requests?”

“Ruin me.” The words fall out of your mouth before you realize you’ve said them, but you don’t regret them. You need this, and he can see it. Crater’s eyes darken even more, and he grins wickedly as he pulls your wrist to his lips. You feel his beard scratch your skin, and you shiver at the thought of where else you may feel that sensation before the night is over.

“With pleasure.” He cups your jaw, running a thumb over your lower lip. “You will refer to me as Captain or sir. Understood?”

A thrill shoots through you, and you push your luck, shrugging. “Sure.”

His nostrils flare and his grip on your jaw tightens. “You are such a fucking brat,” he whispers. “I'll fix that.” He grips the towel, giving it a firm yank and tossing it in the corner. He steps back and studies you. You shiver again, although you can’t be sure if it’s from the chill on your damp skin or his piercing gaze. He circles you again, inspecting every inch of your body. You feel yourself tremble slightly as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “On your knees.”

You think about pushing him further, but decide against it, at least for the moment, slowly sinking to your knees and gazing up at him expectantly.

“Open your mouth.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He squats down in front of you, balancing on the balls of his feet, watching you. You start to giggle from nerves, but his hand rockets out, catching your jaw again and squeezing until your lips part from the pressure.

He slips the tip of his glove into your mouth.

“Bite,” he grits out.

He loosens his hold just enough for you to do as you’re told this time, gently taking the tip of the fabric between your teeth. His fingers slip out of the glove, and he takes it from you. He repeats the exercise with his other glove, tucking them both in his back pocket. Warm tan fingers press on your lower lip, and you open your mouth, allowing him in. Two fingers slide in, pressing on your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth, but Crater keeps your jaw pried open until you feel some drool slide down your chin.

“Messy girl,” he rasps. “Suck.”

You close your lips around his fingers, sucking gently on the pads. You can taste his sweat, slightly salty against your tongue.

“Oh, come on, gorgeous. With a mouth like that, I expected more. You’re going to have to do better than that if you want me to let you suck my cock later.”

You feel your cunt throb and you inhale sharply as warmth floods between your legs. You’re certain you’re dripping onto the floor by now, and it’s only been a few minutes.

“You like that thought, don’t you?” Crater asks, shoving his fingers into the back of your throat. You gag, and he starts to withdraw, but you catch his wrist, pressing his fingers deeper while you run your tongue over his knuckles.

Crater’s brow furrows and his lips part slightly as he watches you gag again on his fingers, but you keep going, obediently sliding them in and out of your mouth. You hum around him, and you can see he’s fighting to maintain control. You grin.

“Something to say, pretty girl?” he asks, shoving another finger into your mouth. “Go on.”

“Having fun, Captain?” is what you try to ask, but it comes out garbled around his digits.

“Try again, gorgeous. I can’t understand you.”

You glare up at him and he smirks before withdrawing his fingers.

“I was always told it’s rude to talk with my mouth full, sir,” you snark.

“You’ve had no problem being rude up until this point,” he murmurs, letting his damp hand trail across your collarbone before grazing your breast.

You clench around nothing. It's been months since anyone touched you.

He notices your response, raising his eyebrow as he pinches one nipple between his fingers and tugs it gently. You whimper quietly.

“Needy,” he observes.

“Been a while.” He pinches your nipple harder. “Sir,” you gasp.

“Hmm.” He releases you, pushing himself to a standing position. You shift, trying to gain some source of friction, but he slips a knuckle under your chin, tilting your head upwards. “None of that. You take what I give, and nothing more. Understood?”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Yes, sir.”

Crater stares down at you with an unamused expression for another half a beat before releasing you. He crosses your room to your nightstand and pulls open the drawer, rummaging inside. You can see his eyes raking over the contents, carefully cataloging everything before he holds up your plug, glancing over at you.

“You stretch yourself on this?”

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly.

“Anyone ever taken you there?”

“No.” It’s something you’ve always wanted to try, but you’ve never had a partner you felt bold enough to ask. And those that have asked have always seemed too eager. So you’ve resorted to toys, stuffing your ass full with the plug as you fucked your cunt with another toy. But no matter how many times you came, teeth clenched around the fabric of your pillowcase, your curiosity about the real thing still wasn’t sated. You always knew it would have to be with someone you trust completely, someone you know won’t push you or your boundaries just to lay claim to you.

Someone like Crater.

He stays silent, clearly expecting more from you.

You try to stutter out a more thorough response. “B-but I like to feel full when I…”

“When you what, pretty girl?”

“When I fuck myself.”

The corner of his lip curls. “Filthier than I thought. Good.” He takes out a bottle of lube, your dildo with the remote, and the plug and sits on the bed with them next to him. He leans forward on his knees, crooking a finger towards you.

“Come here, gorgeous.”

You grin, falling forward on your hands and crawling towards him, allowing your ass to sway back and forth. His face remains neutral as you slide between his knees, running your hands over the plastoid that still covers his thighs. You’ve always been good at finding the right buttons to push with people, but Crater has largely remained a mystery to you in all the time that you’ve known him. Now, you watch carefully as you scrape your fingers closer to his inner thigh, watching for any telltale twitch. You want to see if you can make him crack.

He’s immovable.

“You seem to think this is some sort of competition,” he says quietly, as though he can read your thoughts. “You won’t break me, sweetheart.”

You pout your lips. “You’re no fun.”

He slips one hand into your hair and grips tightly, pulling your head back as he leans over you again. You can feel the roots of your hair tug sharply, and it sends another thrill through you. Crater leans forward to whisper directly into your ear. His beard scrapes your cheek, and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “You’re still being a brat.”

“I thought pilots enjoyed a challenge,” you manage to gasp.

“I do.” He releases your hair, and you sit back. He shifts back on the bed and pats his knees. You start to straddle one, but he places a hand on your hip, stilling you. “No, love. Over them.”

Your legs quiver at the realization of what he’s asking, and your mouth falls open slightly.

“Tick-tock, pretty girl. The longer you stand there and waste my time, the longer this’ll be.”

You drape yourself over his thighs slowly, shuddering at the chill of the plastoid and how the edges of it bite into your skin. You rest your elbows and knees on the mattress on either side of him, balancing as he pushes down on the small of your back to arch it to his liking. Your ass is in the air, and it feels so exposed. Crater rubs small circles in your spine before allowing his hand to drift downward, lightly passing over the curve of your ass. You feel your skin explode in an array of goosebumps as a jolt shoots through you. You unleash a shuddering breath.

“You are needy. So eager to be touched,” he teases as he traces down the curve of your ass, curling his fingers on the inside of your thigh. He’s so close to where you want him, but he steers clear of your dripping cunt. For now.

“I think fifteen is a good start considering how you’ve behaved the last few weeks,” he rasps. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you have my cock.”

“Fifteen, huh? Can you count that high, Captain?” you ask, earning yourself a sharp pinch to your nipple with his other hand. You inhale sharply, biting back a curse.

“Twenty then. And you’ll be the one counting. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, smart girl?”

You open your mouth to retort, but the first smack lands hard, biting into the skin of your asscheek. Heat floods through you and your mouth falls open.

You’re already craving another.

“Count for me, or we start over.”

“One,” you pant.

He continues, landing some blows over the same area, and you can feel the heat and redness bloom there. Other times, he moves onto an untouched patch of skin, and the shock of sudden pain makes you squirm, desperate for some sort of friction against your neglected clit. It feels as though electricity is licking up your spine with every strike, the pain giving way to a euphoria you’ve never before experienced as his warm palm soothes your stinging skin in between each blow.

But you keep count.

“See, I knew you could be a good girl for me. You’re doing so well,” he whispers as he rubs the place you’re certain he just left a handprint. “Halfway there.” One hand curls around your thigh again, and you feel fingers finally brush against your folds, slipping along them with ease. “I see you’re enjoying yourself,” Crater observes. “You’re soaked.” He lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking your taste off of them before he lets his hand slip back between your legs, sinking two of his thick digits into you. You fist the blankets as the next blow lands at the same time Crater curls his fingers inside of you.

“Ah fuck! Eleven!”

Crater pulls out slightly out before pressing back into the knuckle, driving into you. He finds the spongy place inside of you and bears down on it as he spanks you again in the same place. Your eyes roll back into your head.

“T-twelve.”

“Good girl.”

SMACK.

“Thirteen,” you whine. The plastoid is so cold against your heated, sweaty skin as you writhe in his lap, trying to press back against his hand. He adds a third finger.

“Who would have known all it took for you to be nicer was a few spanks and some fingers in your pussy?” Crater chuckles. “Such a desperate girl.”

“Please,” you whisper.

“Please what?”

“More.”

“So polite all of a sudden.” He presses against your asshole with his thumb, and you arch your back, pushing against him. “Oh, you want me to take you there, don’t you? Want me to claim your ass tonight?”

You do. You want him to, and he knows it. You mouth a silent “yes” as you glance back at him, and his eyebrow raises at your muted admission.

Crater hums as he pushes harder against the tight ring of muscle and you gasp. Your knuckles are white with how hard you’re gripping the sheets.

“Color?”

“Green. Fuck. Green.”

SMACK.

“FOURTEEN.”

Your breath is coming in short pants as he rubs at the raised, tender flesh of your ass. You hear the click of a cap, and suddenly his thumb is pressed back against your asshole again, slicker than before. He pushes forward, breaching the tight ring of muscle as he curls his fingers in your cunt again.

“Oh, Maker, yes. Right there, Crate-”

SMACK.

“It’s Captain or sir,” he reminds you in that same gravelly tone he used on Strike, sending a shiver through you. “Now what do we say when someone gives you what you want?”

“Fifteen! Thank you, sir,” you gasp, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes.

“Good girl.”

You clench around his fingers at the praise, and he huffs another laugh, pressing his thumb deeper into your ass. He lands the next few blows in rapid succession.

SMACK.

“SIXTEEN. THANK YOU, CAPTAIN.”

SMACK.

“FUCK. SEVENTEEN. THANK YOU, SIR.”

You can feel the coil tightening in your stomach as he lands two more, nearing the end. After nineteen, you’re babbling in his lap, desperately pressing back against his hand, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers.

“You think you deserve to cum?” he asks.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you whimper.

“Not yet, pretty girl.”

SMACK.

“Twenty,” you sob.

He removes his fingers from you, and you immediately feel painfully empty. His other palm rests on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you feel your pulse in your fluttering, empty cunt.

“You did so well,” he praises. You quiver under his touch. “Are you still green?”

“Still g-green,” you stutter.

“Louder.”

“Green,” you declare more firmly.

“Good. Lie down.”

He helps you stand on shaky legs, carefully moving you to lie on your back on the bed. You feel the softness of the blanket rub against the inflamed skin of your ass and thighs, and you shudder at the thought of the marks that’ll be there tomorrow, a reminder of your night with the captain.

But he’s far from done with you.

“Wait here,” he commands. “Don’t touch yourself.”

“Yes, sir,” you sigh with a hint of a whine.

He retreats to the refresher, washing his hand before he comes back, his head tilted as he watches you, laid out for him on your bed. He quickly removes the rest of his armor and boots, grinning smugly as your eyes follow every new part of him that’s exposed to you. You want him, and he knows it. Reaching for his waist, he tugs his shirt up and over his head, tossing it next to his armor.

He’s fucking stunning. You knew he would be, but somehow still weren’t prepared. The tattoos you’d seen evidence of curl from his elbows over his shoulders, weaving in geometric patterns across his collarbone and shoulder blades before reaching up his neck, where they end. Each line seems to flawlessly frame a muscle or tendon, perfectly accentuating it. His body is littered with small scars, with one larger one visible on his hip, dipping below the waistline of his pants. Without his codpiece, you can see the pronounced outline of his cock, straining against the black fabric. Your mouth waters, and you lick your lips, meeting his eyes.

“Not yet,” he teases.

You’re huffy now, having recovered slightly from your denied orgasm, and he glowers at you as you pout.

“Hands under the headboard,” he orders. You glare at him for another moment, and he raises his eyebrow again in warning. You concede, slipping your fingers under the wooden edge and gripping it tightly. “Good. Keep them there,” he orders as he slowly approaches the bed. “Or else I’ll get some binders.”

“Probably the most use they’ll have gotten,” you snicker.

“You really want to make this difficult?”

“Got a reputation to keep up.”

He snorts before climbing onto the bed and straddling you, lowering his body onto yours slowly. You can feel the warmth of his chest against your skin, and your body is screaming at you to wrap your legs around him, but you really aren’t that interested in the binders that he threatened you with.

You’re more interested in getting his cock inside of you as quickly as possible.

Crater is infuriatingly patient and precise in his motions, but then again, you suppose that’s why he commands an entire combat wing. He slips his hand into your hair again, gripping but not pulling. He tilts your head slightly, exposing your neck to him. “If I remember correctly, your jumpsuit collar goes to about here,” he whispers, nosing at the perceived boundary on the skin of your throat. His beard is tickling you, and you’re shaking with anticipation. “That seem right to you?”

“Yes, s-sir,” you stutter.

“Already a mess and I’ve hardly started,” he rasps, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll have you begging soon enough.” He kisses your neck, and you let out a sharp exhale. You’ve tried to play it neutral, but somehow, he’s zoned in on the exact spot you like to be kissed, the spot that drives you wild. And he notices the way you respond, bearing down on it with his teeth and tongue. You start to grind against him, desperate for any sort of friction, desperate to feel his cock. You manage to catch the head of it on your clit through his pants, rubbing for a millisecond before his unoccupied hand locks firmly on your hip, holding you still.

“You’ll take what I give, pretty girl,” he snarls in your ear. “And the longer you’re greedy, the longer you’ll wait to have me fill that pretty pussy.”

You whine but relent, letting him resume his attack on your neck and collar bone. He works slowly and methodically, marking you as he works his way to your breasts, where he seemingly spends an eternity lavishing them with attention. He sucks bruises, he bites gently, and he takes your nipples in his mouth, paying special attention to what makes you writhe and gasp.

And then he moves lower, slipping between your legs and kissing just below your navel as he spreads your legs wide with his hands on the back of your thighs. His breath is so warm against your dripping cunt, and you spasm in his grip as he blows on you purposefully.

“Asshole,” you grumble.

He bites the inside of your thigh hard, and you yelp. Looking down, you can already see the bruise blossoming where his teeth caught your skin.

“Only nice girls get to cum. Now, remember, keep your hands where they are.”

He nuzzles against the flesh of your unmarked thigh, placing warm kisses and gentle bites. His beard scrapes the tender skin just before his teeth graze you, threatening to mark you where only you’ll see. You close your eyes, tipping your head back as you try to fight the way your legs are trembling, but that earns you a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.”

You catch your lip between your teeth as you obey, your eyes finding his brown ones, which seem to be practically glowing. He keeps his gaze locked with yours as he nuzzles your clit, blowing on it gently. You whine, and your legs try to close, but he firmly holds them open.

“I’m going to break you,” he whispers. “By the time I’m done, all you’ll know is my name and the word ‘please’.”

You tremble again just as he dives in, driving his tongue and eating you ravenously as you gasp and thrash in his grasp.

Crater is a master at pulling you apart slowly, and he takes his time, working you to the edge with his tongue and mouth and then chuckling as he pulls away, leaving you trembling and crying out in frustration. He’s a quick study and eventually adds his fingers, thrusting into your cunt as he suckles at your clit in the way that he now knows will have you clenching and gasping. The third time he deprives you, you unleash a frustrated growl, and he laughs quietly at your frustration.

“Please, Captain,” you whine. “Please.”

“Not yet.”

He goes at you again, alternating with his tongue and his fingers, and it feels as though it only takes seconds for your body to begin to tighten, begging for the release that he’s robbed you of.

“Knew you’d taste good,” he mumbles into your skin as he presses his fingers back inside of you. “So sweet and warm.”

“P-p-please. Please.”

He nips at your thigh and you cry out, tears leaping into your eyes as droplets of perspiration dot your forehead. Crater bears down on the spot inside of you, watching you as you babble.

“Please, I'll do anything you want. Please, sir, please. I need it.”

“Tell me what you need, gorgeous.”

“I need to cum. Please. Do anything you want to me. Please just let me cum. PLEASE!”

“Not yet.”

You sob.

He keeps working you, disintegrating your resolve with every pass of his tongue and his fingers. The scratch of his beard is delicious, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his mouth and the soft press of his tongue against you as he laps at your heat.

“Captain, please. Gods above, I’ll let you have anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. I’ll suck your cum out of your cock. You can have my ass. I’ll give you anything.”

He chuckles. “At the bargaining phase, are we?”

The tears are streaming from your eyes, and you unleash a choked sob.

“Ask me again.”

You’re gasping now, teetering on the edge.

“Please, Captain. Please let me cum.”

“Good girl.” He kisses your clit, and you moan, your knuckles aching from how hard you’re holding the headboard.

“Cum for me.”

You do, screaming his name as your body spasms with wave after wave of your orgasm. He holds you in place, working you through it until your body finally sags into the bed, slick with sweat and wrung out. Your mind is hazy as you feel him crawl up next to you, pressing his fingers against your lips. You let your mouth fall open, welcoming them in as you clean your release from the pads of his fingers. When he’s satisfied, he leans over you and kisses you, and you can feel how wet his beard is from your release. He reaches up as he kisses you, pulling your hands from the headboard. You immediately bury them in his dark curls, running your fingers over the back of his head, relishing this new touch he’s permitted.

The way Crater kisses you feels as though he’s stealing the air from your lungs. His tongue gently finds its way inside your mouth, running along your lower lip as his hands wander your body, gently rubbing and caressing. After what feels like an eternity and not long enough, he relents, resting his forehead against yours.

“Are you ready to continue, my gorgeous girl?”

“Yes, sir.” You’d been determined to make this harder for him, but he’s broken you, and you’re more than ready to bend to whatever his will may be. You trust him implicitly, just like you always have, but somehow, it feels deeper now. You know as rough as he may be with you here, he’ll never hurt you in a way you don’t ask for. His eyes are staring directly into yours as he strokes your cheek tenderly.

“So good for me,” he whispers. He kisses your cheek, moving along your jaw until he reaches your ear. He gently takes your earlobe between his teeth as he grips your thigh, coaxing you to wrap your legs around him. You do it immediately, quivering again at the thought of finally being filled by his cock.

Crater is kicking his pants off as he whispers into your ear. “Now that you’re being good, I’m going to fuck you until you’re boneless. You’re going to cum exactly as many times as I want you to, and no less. But you have to ask me first, and ask nicely. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“Use your words, love.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Color?”

You can feel the head of his cock resting against the puffy, soaked lips of your pussy. Crater is stroking himself against your slit, coating himself with your release. You look down and see he’s as big as Gregor, but with a little more girth, and Maker above you’ve never wanted anything more.

“Green.”

He grunts as he notches his head at your entrance. “Good girl.”

Crater enters you slowly, watching your face as he breaches you. Your release makes it easier to take him, but not easy. You feel your walls stretch to accommodate him as he slowly thrusts shallowly into you, pressing a little deeper each time. Every time his head catches your entrance, you whimper, and he responds with a thrust. You can feel how tightly you’re stretched around him, every ridge apparent as he takes what you’re more than willing to surrender.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers.

You reach up to touch his face, and he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he leans forward and captures your lips again. He groans into your mouth as he bottoms out, pressing his hips against yours, and the feeling of him inside of you is bliss you’ve never experienced. He stays still, but his entire body is tensed, a taut spring waiting to be unleashed. He strokes your cheek.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I won’t be gentle.”

You raise your head, grazing his lips with yours. “I don’t want you to be.”

He chuckles darkly. “Good.”

His hips draw back before slamming against yours, and you see stars as the head of his cock finds the perfect place inside you. He starts off at a steady but hard pace, knocking the wind from you with every thrust of his hips. His hands wander your body, squeezing your breasts, playing with your clit, finding every place that makes you unfurl more underneath him.

At one point, he sits up, placing his hands at the back of your knees and pushing them towards your chest. The angle of his next thrust has you screaming to religious entities you don’t even believe in as he reaches impossibly deeper inside of you. His thrusts are deliberate and perfectly timed, his fingers bruising, and it’s not long before you’re pleading with him again.

“Maker, I’m gonna cum again. Please let me cum, Captain. Please.”

“Yeah? Already? You’re not making this very difficult.” He sheathes himself to the hilt and holds there. It feels as though he’s rearranging your insides, and you’re shocked you can’t see an outline of his cock through your stomach.

“Gods. Please, Crate. I’m so full.” Tears are leaking from the corners of your eyes as he drags himself out again, leaving just the head inside of you. His thumb presses against your clit with a feather-light touch, and you jolt at the contact, whining desperately.

“Not yet, you’re not,” he rasps. You feel his fingers prod at your asshole, and you fist the sheets, arching your back as your mouth falls open. You hear the click of the lube bottle opening again.

“Color?”

“G-green.”

His cock slips from you, and you want to scream, but he holds your legs where they are, and you feel the blunt head of the plug nudge your other entrance.

“Relax for me, pretty girl.”

You do, inhaling and exhaling deeply as you quiver with anticipation. The plug slips inside you, and it’s bliss you’ve never experienced. Crater watches you for a moment before he slides his cock back inside of your pussy, folding you back in half again.

You’ve never felt this full before, never this pleasured, and you’re not sure you’ll ever feel this way again.

But you need it.

“Fuck. Don’t stop.”

A hand settles on your throat, firmer than the last time he grasped you like that.

“Eyes open for me, love.”

You didn’t even realize you’d closed them, but your eyes flutter open and find Crater’s in the dim lighting. They’re piercing. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and his gaze follows it.

“Do as you’re told, yeah?” he groans.

“Yes, sir,” you gasp.

The grip on your throat tightens slightly, pressing on the sides. “Squeeze for me.”

You focus on contracting your muscles even though your mind feels like a blur. Crater grunts as your cunt tightens around him. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” His cock slams into you, and you relax, letting him fill you.

“Again.”

Crater releases your legs, fucking you with his hand around your neck. You’ve never tried spice, but you imagine this has to be what it’s like. You’re floating, you’re moaning, you’re sweating, all while wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, more intense with every thrust of Crater’s hips as the head of his cock continues to stroke that perfect place inside you. The grip on your throat tightens when he wants you to flex your muscles, and after a few cycles of it, you tighten around him without having to be asked. Crater’s fucking you in earnest now, the hand still around your throat, and your head is swimming. He releases you for a second, watching you.

“Color?”

“Green,” you whisper.

“Louder for me.”

“Green,” you say more firmly.

He’s still watching, and you see a flicker of something, concern maybe.

“I said I’m green, Crater.”

He takes your hand, placing it on his side. “Tap if you need.”

“I will. Now please fuck me.”

The grip tightens again, and you’re back to floating, and before you know it, you’re begging him again.

“Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

You do. You cum hard, clawing at his back as he bites your shoulder. Your vision whites out as you writhe underneath him, clenching around his cock until the orgasm subsides, leaving you panting.

“Good. That’s two.”

“How many you shooting for?” you gasp.

“As many as it takes. Now on your knees for me, love.”

You roll over onto your knees, bracing yourself against your elbows. You feel exposed like this, back arched and presenting yourself to the captain. You feel him staring at your dripping heat, and you shiver under his gaze. His fingers trace along your lips as he positions himself behind you, nudging your knees apart as he presses his cock back into you. Your back arches almost by instinct, and he groans as he bottoms out, leaning over you. You feel his abdomen press against the plug in your ass, and you try to push backwards to drive it in deeper, but a sharp smack to your ass makes you freeze.

“What did I tell you about being greedy?” he rasps. “You take what I give you.”

You squeeze around him in the only act of defiance you can muster, and he chuckles darkly before he leans forward, pinning your arms behind your back with one hand while fisting your hair with the other. The roots of your hair creak again under his grip, but the pain is beautiful as he slams into your cunt again with a wet slap that makes your face burn.

“You talk a big game, but I know what you really crave,” he grunts as he fucks you. “You want to be told how filthy you are. You want to be used like this, to surrender to someone else. You want someone else to take charge. Your dripping little cunt tells me everything I need to know.” He’s got his weight tipped forward onto the small of your back, arching it even further as he snaps his hips into you again, accelerating the pace with each thrust until he’s pounding you into your mattress. Your head is pulled back and forth by the grip he has on your hair, and you allow yourself to go limp as Crater drives into you again and again. You’re more than happy to let him use you, especially as he strokes your insides deliciously, stretching you around his cock as your ass relaxes around the plug. It’s bliss.

After a few minutes, he adjusts again, tipping further forward, and suddenly, he finds the deepest part of you again, and he knows it when you moan loudly under him. He slows, dragging himself out of you before thrusting roughly back in, and you try to bury your face in the sheets to hide the obscene whines that are falling from your lips. But a rough tug of your hair turns your face outward, and you gasp and moan, some of your saliva leaking onto the sheets as Crater fucks you.

“None of that, love. I want to hear every noise you make.”

He pulls you apart, piece by piece, yanking another orgasm from you in a matter of minutes before he flips you back onto your back, pulling your ankles up to rest on his shoulders and gripping your hips as he pistons into you roughly. You lose track of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and each time, Crater only allows you a moment to catch your breath before he’s moving you again, gripping your body roughly and taking what he wants from you. You’re boneless and malleable, and he’s seemingly insatiable.

He’s fucking you on your back again, with one leg extended between his with the other on his shoulder as he drives into your soaked cunt. Sweat is trickling down his neck, trailing along the lines of his tattoos. His dark curls are glistening with moisture, and one drop falls from his nose, landing on your abdomen as he snaps his hips into you relentlessly.

“I’m almost there, love,” he gasps. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up.”

You’re panting with exertion, trying to hold your orgasm at bay as he grips your hip, driving himself into you impossibly deeper. You worry that his orgasm will mean the end of this night, and he seems to notice your concern.

“Ask for what you want, pretty girl.”

You’re suddenly shy, even with his cock buried inside you, even wearing the marks of his teeth and his hands on your flesh.

He slows, whispering your name. “Tell me what you want.”

“I… I want you to fuck my ass. I want you to have me there, Crater.”

His eyes search yours for a second before he resumes his relentless pace. “I’m going to cum in this pussy. Then you’re going to clean my cock off with that smart mouth of yours. And once I’m nice and hard again, I’ll claim you there. That what you want?”

Heat rises in your cheeks. “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir. Please sir.”

“Good girl.”

He leans forward, adjusting to the angle that he knows will rip another orgasm from you, and sure enough, you’re pleading with him again in a matter of seconds. This time, he’s merciful.

“Cum with me. Right now. Do it.”

You’ve never been so responsive to a lover, never felt as though your body was perfectly calibrated to follow their commands, but Crater’s words send you hurtling over the edge, and you feel him twitch as he empties himself inside of you. It takes several thrusts, and you’re certain you’re full of his cum, dripping with it.

His final thrusts make obscene sounds, and you feel the warm stickiness dribble out of you. Crater pushes himself up on his hands and knees, reaching for the dildo and gently nestling it inside of you, replacing his cock. It’s cold and not enough compared to him, but your disappointment only lasts a moment as he crawls to the head of your bed, sitting against your headboard with his legs spread. He reaches for the remote on your nightstand and beckons you forward.

“Come clean me off, love. Get me ready to take you again.”

You feel as though you’re drunk as you roll yourself onto your hands and knees, clumsily crawling towards him on wobbly limbs. He watches you with a slight smirk as you drop to your elbows between his knees, nuzzling at his abdomen and kissing the scar on his hip. He gently brushes your hair out of your face, gathering it in one hand.

“You want this, love?”

“So much,” you whisper.

His cock is still half-hard, glistening with your combined releases, and you gently wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the tip. The taste is salty and tangy and warm, and you can’t believe how quickly you crave it, slipping him further into your mouth. He grunts in surprise as you suddenly feel a second wind overtake you, making you eager to run your tongue along every inch of him. You clean him until your saliva replaces the slick cum on his shaft, tracing veins and flicking the head of his cock with your tongue. You hear a dull thunk as his head falls back against your headboard, and he gathers your hair in one hand, applying pressure to the back of your head.

You want him to use you. You want him to bruise the back of your throat. You want him to make your voice rasp in the morning as a reminder of this night.

His cock hits the back of your throat, but you hold yourself there, fighting your gag reflex and the tears that are blurring your vision. You can see his abdomen heaving as he experimentally thrusts into your mouth, testing your limits. You swallow around him.

Crater moans.

“Good fucking girl. Maker, I knew that mouth would be incredible. Gonna have to be careful or else I’ll cum down your throat, love.”

You hum and the grip on your hair tightens as you feel his cock swell and pulse against your tongue.

“Oh, you want that do you? You want me to fuck your mouth?”

The sounds as your saliva squelches around him are obscene, but he begins pistoning up into your mouth, moving your head to meet his thrusts. You rest one hand on his thigh in case you need it, and you feel his muscles tense with every snap of his hips.

“So fucking good. I should come by more often just to do this. Shut your office door and fuck your throat when you get mouthy with me. You love this, don’t you? Love being put in your place. Love being used to slick my cock, you sloppy little thing. Relax your throat for me. Oh, fuck, yes. Just like that.”

You’ve never heard him this vocal, and as you manage to glance up, you see how his lips are slightly parted. His brows are furrowed, and you can tell you might finally have him knocked slightly off balance. A new wave of arousal shoots through you at the thought of making Crater crumble. With renewed fervor, you bury your nose in the curls at the base of his cock, inhaling his scent just before your airway is cut off, and you gag. But you hold yourself there, and his hand rests heavily on the back of your head.

Suddenly, you groan as he clicks the remote for the dildo in your cunt. It vibrates to life, pressing against your stretched walls, making your legs quiver.

“Good girls get rewarded,” he rasps.

You become ravenous, eager to taste his cum, desperate to have this man fill your throat. You want nothing more than to pleasure him, to submit to him, and you let him take what he wants from you. Crater drops the remote, burying both hands in your hair as he lazily thrusts in and out of your mouth, giving you instructions occasionally, which you follow without question. The dull buzz between your legs combined with the pressure in your ass and the throb of Crater’s cock on your tongue brings you to the edge again, but this time, you can’t beg with your mouth full.

He notices.

“Do it. Cum for me. You’ve been so good.”

He clicks the remote again, and you scream around his cock. He presses your head all the way down, groaning as your shrieks vibrate around him. Just as you’re spent, he pulls you off of him, turning the vibration off. He’s almost painfully hard, you can see that. His cock is fully erect and twitching, glistening with your saliva in the dull lighting of the room. You rest your cheek on his thigh, and he strokes your hair.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“Wanted… wanted to taste… you,” you pant.

He strokes your hair. “Another time. I promise.”

You whine. “Please fuck me.”

That was apparently the answer he was hoping for, not wanting to expend himself too early if that’s what you really wanted. He’s read you again, but you can’t be bothered by it as he asks you “Where?”

You know he’s making sure this is what you want, so you meet his eyes with as firm a gaze as you can muster. “Please fuck my ass, sir. I need it.”

“How could I refuse such a polite request?”

Crater eases out from underneath you, crawling around behind you and guiding you onto your stomach. He folds a pillow in half and helps you raise your hips to stuff it under them, raising them to his liking before he straddles you, enclosing your legs with his. He pushes the vibrator in your cunt a little deeper, you having squeezed it out slightly during your last orgasm, and then he clicks the low vibration back on. Your muscles tighten around it, and you grip the sheets, arching your back and moaning as he presses it further in and clicks the button again. The vibrations ramp up, and you writhe beneath him. He taps the end of the plug in your ass, and you turn to look over your shoulder at him.

“You gonna let me have your ass, sweetheart?”

It’s one last check. And you’re so grateful for it. But you’re also so impatient.

“Yes. Please fuck my ass, Captain.”

His eyes leave yours to watch as he plays with the plug a little, tapping and moving it in and out of you before he removes it completely. You feel achingly empty and wiggle your ass, hoping it will entice him to fill you faster. You’ve never been taken there before, but right now, you want nothing more.

“I’m going to go slow. Use your colors.”

“Please, Crater.”

The lube bottle clicks open, and a few seconds later you hear the sound of him slicking his cock. Coolness hits your asshole, and you gasp as fingers slip inside of you, working you even more open.

And then you feel it.

Crater uses one hand to spread your asscheeks as he notches the head of his cock at your entrance and slowly begins to ease in. So slowly. Tears leap into your eyes as your muscles stretch to accommodate him. It’s slightly painful, but the pleasure outweighs it as he gently thrusts just the head in and out of you. It feels as though your cunt is stretching too, and the vibrations inside of you suddenly become more intense.

You need him deeper.

“More,” you plead.

Crater sinks a little further into you, moving his hand to the small of your back instead to brace himself. And that’s when it hits you: he’s inside of you completely, not having to hold himself there, in a place no one else has ever been.

The realization drives you wild.

And then he taps the vibrator again. You gasp loudly, fisting the sheets.

“More. Please!”

He sinks deeper, but it’s too much too fast this time. You gasp out a color.

“YELLOW.”

He backs off quickly, but your hand rockets around to keep him inside you.

“Just a little slower. I’m sorry. I thought I was ready,” you choke out.

“Don’t be sorry. Not at all. I’m glad you told me.” His voice is tight. You know he’s holding back. And that’s why you want to keep going. Because you trust him like you’ve trusted no one else.

“Don’t stop. Just go slower. But please don’t stop.”

“You’re sure?” he asks again.

“Yes. Please. I’m green.” You thrust back slightly, just to your breaking point, and he takes your lead. You feel your body relax around him, and this time, you’re positive when you ask him for more. He’s slow and patient, working his way inside you. The stretch is delicious, and Maker, you’ve never been this full. Nothing you do with your fingers or toys after this will be enough. Not with the way his hand is rubbing comforting circles in the small of your back as he destroys you one centimeter at a time.

“More.”

He sinks deeper, and now you’re babbling as he slowly drags himself back out of you before sinking back in. You reach between your legs to press the vibrator against your clit.

“Fuck, Crate. You’re so big. It’s so big and perfect. Fuck. I fucking love the way you feel in my ass.”

“You gonna let me cum in this tight ass, pretty girl?” he grits out. He doesn’t correct you on his title, but you’re pretty sure he’s almost as far gone as you are.

“Gods, yes. I want you to claim me there. Paint my walls where no one else has. I want to feel you leak back out of me.”

His hands grip your hips so hard you’re certain there’ll be a perfect set of fingerprints there. He’s doing everything in his power to go slow, and you can’t wait to turn him loose.

“More, Crate.”

You feel his hips come to rest against your ass as he bottoms out. He’s panting against your shoulder blades, attempting to keep his composure. The realization of how deep he is inside of you has your cunt fluttering around the vibrator, and you almost orgasm from the thought alone. He stretches his legs out, lowering his weight on top of you. One set of his fingers interlaces with yours, and the other hand comes around to cup your throat. He doesn’t squeeze this time, just cradles your jaw, holding your head up as he nuzzles against you.

“You’re so good for me,” he whispers against your skin. “So fucking good.”

You look over your shoulder at him as much as you can, watching a line of sweat trickle down his temple.

“Fuck me, Captain.”

He does. He’s slow at first, but the drag of his cock all the way back out and all the way back into your ass makes you mewl, and before long, you’re pressing back into him. He ramps the vibrator up to its highest setting, and your eyes roll back into your head.

“Harder. Please.”

He obliges, snapping his hips deeper and putting more of his weight into each thrust. Your toes dig into the sheets as your whole body begins to tighten.

“I’m so full. It’s so good. So good. Fuck.” You can’t stop babbling as he pounds into you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he gasps. “You take my cock so fucking well. Like you were made for it.” He groans loudly as he bottoms out again. “You love this, don’t you? Being stuffed in both holes?”

“Yes,” you sob. “It’s so good.”

“I bet you’d love to have Gregor’s cock in here too. Maybe he takes your sweet little cunt while I pound your ass.” You moan, clenching at the thought. Crater doesn’t stop. “But that still leaves your mouth. Maybe I get Chuckles in here to fuck that smart little mouth while Gregor and I take you. Would you like that, pretty girl? To be ruined by three men at once?”

You whine and spasm around him, and he feels it. “Fuck, you’re such a dirty girl. Who would have known the smart-mouthed mechanic would let me do this to her? Let me ruin her in the backroom of her office. I want you to always remember this when you’re out in that office working. How I took you back here and made you scream my name. How you begged for my cock. Maybe I’ll take you over that desk before I go in the morning so you think about that for the rest of the day while my spend leaks out of you.”

“Crater, I’m gonna cum.”

“Not until I say you are,” he grits out. “Not until I’m ready to.”

You inhale sharply, trying to keep your body from toppling over the edge.

“Don’t you cum yet,” he snarls.

“I’m trying,” you whine. “But I’m so close, Captain. So close.”

“Keep talking.”

Your mouth runs on autopilot, desperate to find the words that will yank him to the edge alongside you so that you can both tumble off together.

“Your cock is so fucking good, Crater. Gods, nothing will ever be enough after this. You fill me up so perfectly. I need it, Crate. I need to feel your hot cum in my ass. I want to feel it leak out of me. Fuck. Please give it to me, Crater. Please cum in my ass.”

His thrusts grow more erratic, and you know you’re about to get what you want.

“G-gonna fill you up,” he growls. “Gonna be the first to claim you here.”

“My ass is yours, Crater.”

“Yeah it fucking is.” The grip on your throat tightens, pulling your head back again, and that last little pinprick of pain has you teetering on the brink. It’s like the first day when he had you tipped in the chair of your office, your toes barely touching the floor. All it will take is the slightest push to send you toppling over the edge.

Just a little further. So close.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you sob.

“You’re so cute when you beg,” he rasps directly into your ear. And with a loud groan, his hips stutter as he cums in your ass, gasping.

“Now,” he moans.

And your orgasm rips through you. He drops your head, and you scream into the sheets as wave after wave washes over you in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. Tears stream from your eyes and your body spasms again and again. You feel like you’re floating somewhere between consciousness and some other plane of existence as you come out of it, barely aware of what day it is or what your name even is anymore.

When the waves of your orgasm finally stop battering your wrung-out body, you collapse limply against the sheets of your bed. They stick to you, but it feels as if you’ve sunk halfway through the mattress somehow. Your mouth feels dry from screaming. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, and you’re aware Crater is laying on top of you, panting against your neck, but trying to hold the majority of his weight off of you.

“Get it out,” you mumble.

He’s already slipped from your ass, but he quickly turns off the vibrator and eases it out of your cunt. You feel yourself start to shake uncontrollably. You’re not sure if it’s due to the orgasm, the sudden chill on your sweat-soaked body, or something else. Regardless, Crater lies next to you and pulls you close to him, being careful to keep his sullied hand clear of you. His nose grazes yours as he gently cradles your head.

“Breathe with me, Bolts.”

You do, and the shivering begins to subside after a few cycles. You finally open your eyes and find Crater’s steady gaze watching you, a comfort as always.

“I’m going to go get something to clean you off with. I’m going to be right back. Alright?” You nod, your mind still hazy, and he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving off towards your ‘fresher. The sink hisses softly, and a moment later, you feel your legs gently being parted and a warm, damp cloth moving over your body, thighs, and between your legs as Crater carefully cleans you. Once he’s done, a dry towel runs over the same areas, soft and gentle, before he rolls you onto your back, removing the pillow from beneath your hips. You hear the mini-fridge in your outer office open and close, and a straw is placed at your lips. You drink greedily as he strokes your hair, draining the water packet in a few seconds.

“Good girl.” The words are softer now, carrying no heat. “Do you need more?”

You shake your head and open your eyes just in time to see him toss the spent water packet into the rubbish bin. He slides into the bed next to you, pulling the blanket over the two of you before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You snuggle into the crook of his shoulder in a daze, inhaling his smell and draping one of your legs over his thigh. His fingers stroke your cheek, and he presses gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Strong, gentle hands trail over your skin, caressing tenderly in a way that so sharply contrasts with how he touched you just moments before. He searches for sore muscles or tension left untouched but finds none; you’re completely relaxed in his grasp. His fingers graze over the bruises and bite marks he left, pressing gently and watching for your reaction, ensuring you’re not in too much pain. It’s sweet, but not something you’re used to. You know this hardly counts as being pampered by most people’s standards, but you’re not used to the doting tenderness. Even if you do find yourself melting into him more with every passing second, allowing your eyes to drift shut again as you release a satisfied sigh.

“I’m alright, Crate,” you mumble after a few moments, growing shy under his attention.

“I need to be sure,” he says quietly. “That was intense for you.”

You smile. “It was, but it was so good.” Your eyes flutter open, and your heart melts at the way he’s looking down at you. You were worried about how this moment might go, concerned about how your friendship might shift after allowing this to happen.

But you should have known better. Crater is a pillar but also a soft place to land, someone you’d confide in without hesitation. His men fall in line because he’s someone to fly into battle with, someone you know will keep you safe. He’s proud but humble. You know he won’t tell a soul about this night. He doesn’t need to. He knows what he did for you, how you begged for him, and that’s enough. And if you’re honest, you think he got as much out of it as you did, enjoying watching your walls come down and you relaxing with him, enjoying the process of helping you.

“Just didn’t realize this was an all-inclusive sort of encounter,” you joke. “You’re starting to make me feel like royalty with all the attention.”

His expression grows serious as he looks down at you, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “You shouldn’t be accepting any other kind of encounters, Bolts. Do I need to chat with Gregor when he gets back?”

“Nah. He’s fine for what he is. And he does take care of me. It’s just… different.”

He grunts noncommittally, pulling you closer. You feel his thumb graze your spine.

“You jealous?” you ask, tongue poking out between your teeth teasingly.

“Not at all. We’re different people giving you different things.”

“That makes it sound like you don’t intend for this to be a one-time thing, Crate.”

“That is entirely up to you.” His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you kiss it.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, as if this night won’t have you craving his touch seconds after he’s gone. “Well, I can’t be getting cranky with your men again, now can I?” you murmur, snuggling deeper into the crook of his shoulder.

The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk. “Definitely can’t have that. And I’m more than happy to do my part.”

“More than happy?”

“Yeah, Bolts. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think I’d enjoy myself too.”

“You do this with a lot of people?”

“Nope. Only ones I trust. And that trust me.”

You twist one end of your hair nervously, the mention of trust bringing a question charging to the forefront of your mind. He can tell, taking your fingers and carefully intertwining them in his own.

“What is it? You having second thoughts?”

“No, not at all. This was great. It’s just… have you heard if Gregor’s talking about him and I? I didn’t think he would, but what Strike said a few weeks back stuck with me. I don’t want to be the Battalion Babe of the week.”

He nods, pulling your knuckles to his lips. “I can assure you that I haven’t heard anything and I don’t think Gregor’s like that. I think Strike was angry and lashing out. I know several of the men did see you leave 79s with Gregor, so the conclusion wasn’t too far-fetched. But Gregor’s not feeding the rumor mill.”

You sigh. “Dammit.”

“For what it’s worth, you haven’t been a topic of conversation within my earshot. I had a chat with Chuckles too and asked him to make sure it wasn’t happening when I’m not around. He said he would, and I trust him. As much of a pain as he is at times, he’s a good man. I trust him.”

You nod appreciatively, melting slightly at the thought of Chuckles doing that for you, but the mention of the mohawked pilot brings another question to the front of your mind. “Were you serious about you and Gregor and Chuckles?”

He shrugs. “It was something I said in the moment, but not a thing I’d approach them about without your express consent. No one needs to know about this if you don’t want them to. And I would only bring in people you and I trust explicitly. Gregor and Chuckles are two of those people. But again, it was said in the moment and doesn’t have to be a serious thing ever.”

Your mind is whirling at the thought of having three of them at once. You can’t lie, it does pique your interest. You smirk up at him. “I’ll let you know.”

He huffs a laugh. His eyes are gentle as he leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Thank you for trusting me to do all that for you.”

You snuggle further into him, absently tracing his tattoos with your fingertips. “Thank you for doing it for me in the first place. I’d have never asked.”

A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest. “I know. You’re too stubborn. That’s why I offered.”

“Glad you did.”

“Me too.”

His steady heartbeat lulls you to sleep only a few minutes later.

—

When you wake in the morning, Crater’s still there, but he’s in the process of getting dressed. He’s snapping his vambraces in place as you stir, sitting up and stretching. You ache deliciously in all of the right places, but seeing him standing there reawakens your hunger. He smiles at you as you sit up in bed.

“Morning. Figured I should get out of here before the droids start powering on. They’re not known for gossip, but better safe than sorry.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You can’t keep the disappointment out of your voice, and even if you had, you’re confident he still would have picked up on your cues. He pauses.

“What’s wrong?”

You wonder if you’re overstepping, but after the night you just had, you figure it doesn’t hurt to ask. You get out of your bed, opening the door to your office. Despite you being completely naked, covered in his marks, Crater’s eyes are firmly locked on yours. You lean against the doorframe, glancing over at your desk.

“You mentioned a parting gift last night that involved my desk. That offer still on the table?”

He huffs a laugh, his hands falling to your waist and gently guiding you out into the office. The cool edge of the desk presses against the front of your thighs as he leans down to speak directly into your ear.

“Elbows on the desk for me, pretty girl. And try to be a little quieter this time.”

You shudder as he nudges your feet apart, placing his codpiece on the desk next to you.

“Yes sir.”

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @dnxgma @meekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @samspenandsword

#karrde writes #OC Crater #clone oc #clone pilot oc #Captain Crater #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon #clone OC x reader #clone OC x you #Crater x Reader #Crater x You #captain crater #OC Chuckles #captain gregor #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #28th combat wing

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 5 months

Note

hi Steph!!! the prompt list is so cute 🥰

may I please request

“"Don't you dare jump in that puddle and get me wet!"”

with Brett? 👀

Puddles and Paddles

Brett (OC) x Fem!Reader

Summary: On your way to a party for Tungst's promotion to ARC trooper you take some time to play in a puddle, but when Brett gets wet, he decides to teach you a lesson when you get to your destination.

Pairing: Brett (OC) x Fem!Reader

Characters: Brett (OC)

Tags & Warnings: 18+, NSFW, established relationship, domestic fluff, mild sexual content but no smut, implied/referenced sexual activities, light BDSM, dom!brett, brat taming, spanking kink, traffic light system, consensual, Brett is his own warning

Word Count: 3k

Author's Note: I’m still not taking requests, but I decided to use this timely opportunity to cross off another bingo square. Congrats Sev! You’re my first follower to receive a one-shot fic from a request (and happy belated birthday)! I hope you like where I took this... This is the most smut-adjacent thing I’ve ever written, but that is how Brett demands to be written. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Party

You rollover beneath the warm duvet and groan at the ache in your lower body. Brett is sound asleep next to you and still lying in the same position he fell asleep in, on his back with an arm resting behind his head. You cast a glance at the chronometer and you’re surprised the sunlight isn’t peeking through the blinds yet, but as you listen, you can hear the reason why. It’s raining.

You love it when it rains. It’s peaceful and soothing to you, but Brett hates it. Unfortunately, for the both of you, you don’t have the luxury of staying inside to enjoy the rainy day as the Maker intended, from the comfort of your warm and dry apartment. Yesterday, Tungst was promoted to ARC trooper and today his brothers are having a party to celebrate, so you don’t have a choice.

Knowing that Brett is going to be a pain in the butt for the rest of the day, you decide to get in your dose of his soft side now before he wakes up and realizes it’s raining. He didn’t want to go to the party to begin with, and it took you forever to convince him. But now that it’s raining? He’s going to be even grumpier than usual and harder to force out the door, but that’s just who he is.

You snuggle up next to him and lay your arm across his stomach. As you lie against his warm body, you feel his right arm wrap around you. He hums and rolls onto his side, pulling your bare back flush against his bare chest, while pressing lazy kisses against your neck. You grin as he begins to caress your naked body, but frown when his hands traverse down past your stomach.

“Brett,” you whine and push his hands away. “Don’t.”

“Still sore?” Brett asks smugly, then replaces his hands to smooth over your hips.

“Could be worse,” you answer, then wiggle your hips to shake him off.

“I could make it worse,” he whispers, then nips at your shoulder.

You gasp, but keep yourself under control, refusing to play into his advances.

“What’s the matter?” Brett asks as he continues to kiss down your shoulder. “Don’t want to play this morning?”

You rollover to face him and kiss his lips. “We’ve got somewhere to be.”

Brett groans and flops onto his back. “Killjoy.”

“Don’t be like that,” you give him a playful tap on the chest. “It’s a special day for your vod.”

Brett pulls the duvet over his face and attempts to go back to sleep.

You sigh and yank the duvet back down, revealing his annoyed expression. “Didn’t you hear–”

In a single movement Brett grabs you, flips you over, and plants your face into the pillows with your butt sticking up in the air on full display. He gives both cheeks a soft, playful smack, then slides himself behind you and leans over your body, pressing his chest firmly against your back while pinning your head down with one hand and squeezing one of your breasts with the other.

“Come on, mesh’la,” Brett goads into your ear while grinding his hips against your backside. “Just one more round, then we can get ready.”

You sigh and decide another round won’t hurt if it means Brett will play nice for the rest of the day. Besides, you can’t help but be turned on by the way he’s man-handling you right now. You're still sore from your activities the night before, but you know that all you have to do is say the word ‘red’ and he’ll stop on a dime. You love that about him; he’s rough, but respectful.

“Just one,” you warn with a muffled voice. “But we’re leaving right after we’re done.”

“I better make it count then,” Brett smirks, then bites your earlobe. “I’m gonna screw you so hard, it’ll be the only thing you can think about at that stupid party.”

You moan with excitement. “Don’t hold back.”

Brett keeps his word and limits your fun to one round, but he also delivers on the soreness. You probably should have bowed out sooner rather than later, but you were having way too much fun to stop before you both finished. Luckily, a hot shower and pain killers help take the edge off so you don’t have to waddle to the party and embarrass yourself, much to Brett’s displeasure.

You know Brett would just love to watch you walk around awkwardly, letting the whole planet know what he did to you. You're his, and he loves showing you off. But you’re more than just an object to him. You’re his cyare, and you don’t want your relationship to be any other way. You trust him, with all of your heart, and he trusts you. That’s how you make everything work.

After you’re both cleaned up, caffeinated, and fed, Brett gets dressed in his formal uniform and you in your black gown. Then you put up your hair and add some jewelry to complete the look. Finally, you spritz yourself with your favorite perfume and throw the matching heels into your purse. You don’t want to walk in the rain in your heels, so you’ll bring them with you to the party.

Brett finishes adjusting his uniform and walks up behind you as you stare at yourself in the mirror, admiring how beautiful you look as the dress accentuates all of your curves. He places his hands on your shoulders and massages them in small circles, a subtle ask. You smile and lean your head to the side, exposing your neck so Brett can press his lips to the supple skin.

“I love that scent,” he says while ghosting his lips over your neck.

“You should,” you say. “You picked it out for me.”

“All the more reason,” he starts kissing your neck as his hands caress down your arms.

You sigh. “Brett.”

“I know,” he groans. “But I’m taking this thing off when we get home.”

You chuckle. “No arguments here.”

Finally ready, you grab your purse, put your rain boots and jacket on, and grab your umbrella. Brett raises an eyebrow, but when you open the apartment door, his demeanor sours. He didn’t know it was raining, or maybe he wasn’t paying attention. You pat his shoulder to offer your condolences and open your umbrella. He grumbles, but takes the umbrella from you to hold it.

Brett is quiet on the way to the barracks. You can tell that he’s already not having a good time, and probably wishes he was back in bed with you naked beneath him. In fact, that’s most likely the only thing he’s thinking about right now. You need to find a way to snap him back to the moment. Perhaps a good tease will rile him up, or maybe if you defy him, he’ll perk up.

Your brain devises a plan quickly when you see a sizable puddle ahead of you. You already know Brett hates the rain, but he also hates being wet. You wonder how he’ll react if you play in that puddle. He’ll have to come along and get close to it, since he’s holding the umbrella. At least that’s what you think he’ll do. As you approach the puddle, you put your plan into action.

“What are you doing?” Brett asks as he follows you with the umbrella.

“It’s a puddle!” you say eagerly while pointing to it.

“Not a chance,” Brett says, then reaches out to grab your arm. “Let’s go.”

You narrowly escape his grasp, then stick your tongue out at him. “Come get me.”

Brett narrows his eyes and huffs, then walks towards you. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, come on,” you say playfully. “Where’s your sense of fun?”

“I must have left it in my other pants,” Brett answers with an eye roll. “Get over here.”

You step closer to the puddle.

“Mesh’la,” Brett warns, his voice lowering to mark his seriousness.

You take another step towards the puddle.

“I’m warning you!” he exclaims. “Don’t you dare jump in that puddle and get me wet!”

You smile, then jump in the puddle, making a big splash that gets the both of you wet. You start giggling at his unamused expression.

Brett grabs your arm and pulls you out of the puddle. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Oh?” you remark, a spark of excitement running through your body as he pulls you along. “What did you have in mind?”

Brett releases your arm and grabs a handful of your butt. “Bad girls need a spanking.”

“Am I a bad girl?” you bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence.

Brett smirks. “The worst.”

You look around. “Where do you want me?”

“Not here,” Brett answers, then leans down to whisper in your ear. “Barracks refresher. Over my knee.”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

You both continue along towards the barracks in silence, with Brett holding the umbrella in one hand and your arm firmly in the other. You’re excited to get to the party. Brett rarely engages in risky intimate behavior outside of your home, so the thrill of him spanking you in the barrack’s refresher is enticing, and you’re happy that he has something fun to look forward to at the party.

You arrive at the barracks and are eagerly greeted by a few members of Brett’s squad. They love having you around during social functions, and joke that your fun personality is the only thing that lights up Brett’s dark cloud of perpetual disgruntlement. You know, of course, that Brett really does love his brothers and cares for them deeply, he just has a hard time showing it.

Once the pleasantries are over, you hang your raincoat on a hook in the entryway to dry, then pull your rain boots off and replace them with the heels in your purse. You straighten your dress, look out towards the party, and immediately spot a delicious looking hors d’oeuvre tray. Feeling hungry and ready to mingle, you make a beeline towards it, but a firm hand holds you back.

You turn around and Brett is glaring at you. “What?” you ask in confusion.

“You got me wet,” he answers. “Time to pay up.”

Oh yeah. You think to yourself as you remember your earlier escapades with the puddle.

Your stomach growls, and you look back over at the food, and then to Brett. “Can I eat one thing first?” you plead. “Please?”

Brett considers your request for a moment, a blank expression on his face. “No. I don’t need you throwing up on me too.”

Before you can open your mouth to protest, Brett is pulling you through the crowd of natborns in dress clothes and clones in uniforms. Instead of fighting him, you try to keep up so it doesn’t look suspicious and garner attention from the attendees. He walks you past the food tray and you reach out to try to grab something, but he notices and pulls you back just far enough away.

You curse under your breath at how close you were.

Resigning to your fate of food after punishment, you let Brett lead you to the barrack’s refresher, and as you think more about how scandalous the whole situation is, you begin to get your excitement back and soon forget about the food. Now you’re hungry for Brett and his big, strong hands to leave your backside so swollen you’ll have to stand for the duration of the party.

When you reach the refresher, Brett looks around the hallway to make sure no one is coming, then shoves you through the door first, with him quickly following behind. He walks you over to the sink and gives you strict orders to stay put while he ensures each stall is empty. Once he concludes his search and knows the refresher is empty of all occupancy, he locks the door.

You can’t help but smile at his thoroughness. Brett loves his privacy, and the possibility that someone might see or hear him pleasuring you in the barrack’s refresher, will turn him off faster than a kill switch on a speeder bike. You appreciate his thoughtfulness to protect you from prying eyes and gawking low-lifes, but if you’re being honest, you find the prospect thrilling.

You watch as Brett sits himself down on a small bench at the far side of the refresher, then silently beckons you to him with his finger. You obey and strut over to him, making sure to exaggerate your hips with every step. Brett’s expression remains unchanging and you inwardly sigh. It was worth a shot to try and lighten him up, but he seems to be all business right now.

As you approach him, he opens his legs and you take your place standing between his knees, waiting for him to tell you what to do next. You look down at his face, still emotionless, almost as if he’s bored and has nothing better to do with his time, but you know that it’s just his ‘resting Brett face’ and that there is much more going on in his brain than what his face is willing to share.

Brett smooths his hands over your soft, round glutes and starts rubbing, kneading, and squeezing to prepare them. He alternates between soft and harsh contact, carefully gauging your reactions. You place your hands on his shoulders as the feeling of his ministrations make your legs weak and your feet unsteady. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to stay standing.

Brett notices the wobble in your legs and pulls you towards him so he can kiss your stomach. “Check in with me,” he says in between kisses.

“Green,” you answer.

“Good girl,” he praises, then softly taps your butt to give you a taste of what is to come.

“Brett,” you whine at his teasing.

“Bend over,” he orders.

Your stomach flips with exhilaration at his demanding tone and you do as you're told, assuming a bent position over his right thigh, then adjusting yourself so you’re more comfortable. Brett carefully pulls your dress up and over your back to reveal your lace panties. He smirks and pulls the stretchy band upward with a single finger, then releases it so it snaps back against your skin.

“Please,” you whimper and squirm against his thigh in protest. “You said I was a good girl.”

“Pull your panties down,” he orders.

You obey and reach around to slip your panties off, uncovering your bare skin as the lace fabric falls down around your ankles. You feel exposed and vulnerable in this position, but you don’t feel nervous. You never feel nervous when Brett is in charge. His top priority is your comfort, safety, and pleasure. All three of those measures need to be met in order for him to enjoy himself.

Pleased with your quick and obedient response, Brett smooths his hand over the soft flesh before giving you what you want, a swift smack. You jerk your head up and gasp at the momentary sting and the following pleasure. With your reaction guiding him, Brett follows up with a few more well-placed smacks, making sure to rub away the sting before giving you more.

You moan in pleasure at the feeling of his strong hand against your skin as it forces you to teeter between the edge of pain and pleasure. The dichotomy of his roughness and gentleness drives you crazy and leaves you wanting him even more. No one will ever truly understand him the way you do; how his tough exterior can give way to soft affections saved only for you.

Brett continues the spanking session until your skin is hot under his touch and the palm of his hand begins to tingle. You’re a moaning mess bent over his knee, fingers clawing and digging into the side of his leg to stay grounded. A small puddle of drool sits stagnant below you on the floor, and you're beginning to feel faint from your head being angled downward for so long.

Brett reaches down and cups your chin to gently pull your head up towards him, then kisses the back of your neck. “Check in with me.”

“Yellow,” you breathe.

Brett places a few more butterfly kisses against the back of your neck, then slowly flips you over and picks you up to situate you so that your throbbing butt is resting between his open legs, your back is leaning against his arm, and your knees are bent and resting over his other thigh. He supports your back as you sit up and you lean your head against his shoulder to recover.

“I could’ve gone longer,” you pant.

“I got what I wanted,” he says, then kisses the top of your head. “Besides, this isn’t the place to push your limits.”

You smile at his thoughtfulness. “Was I a good girl?”

Brett smirks. “The best.”

You release a content sigh and nuzzle your head against his shoulder. Usually, Brett doesn’t go overboard with the aftercare, which you don’t mind. You’ve been with him long enough to know that subtlety is what he prefers. A little kiss here or a small caress there is how he likes to end sessions, but today is different. He’s holding you just a little tighter, a little longer, and you like it.

You stay like this for a little while, in the quiet, and enjoy each other’s presence and physical contact. There’s no bed for you to collapse into, but Brett has you. His strong arms are the next best thing to hold you together until your body decides to come back to reality, and it doesn’t take very long. Soon enough, you start moving and trying to get yourself back onto your feet.

“Pull your panties up, mesh’la,” Brett says as he helps you up. “We’ve got a party to attend.”

You do as he says and make yourself look presentable again, then smile. “Lead the way.”

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fandom-friday · 4 months

Note

@dickarchivist has the MOST BEAUTIFUL clone OCs and I am in love with them! And everyone else should be too! So I am dropping this Specter x Reader fic! It has me so soft!

Vermilion

As a clone OC aficionado, HI HELLO YES I LOVE THIS. And this fic is so cute! I love seeing Specter work through how he feels internally, and I love all of the little quirks about his personality and interest that shine through so you get to know him better. I always find first-person hard to write, so my hat is all the way off to Archie! Thanks so much for the rec!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #clone oc #OC Specter #clone oc x reader #clone oc x you #specter x reader #specter x you

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yandere-writer-momo · 5 months

Text

Yandere Head Canons:

My Purpose

Mad Scientist Husband x Reader x Yandere Clone

Now your husband, Dorian Goodman, truly believed he was doing you a favor with his newest creation… or should he say creations? He felt like a horrible husband by being away from you for long hours but he was allergic to pet dandruff so that was out of the equation… so why not clean himself? That way you wouldn’t be lonely! He only had his genius to blame for the horror he inflicted on you from this…

So imagine waking up to see your husband laying beside you in the bed still? His arms felt colder than normal and he smelled like preservatives… something was off but you couldn’t put your finger on it… his black hair was still long and beautiful just like his dark lashes. But something in your gut told you this wasn’t him.

And that’s when the figure beside you wakes up and gives you a bright smile. “I’m Dee. I’m your husband’s clone to keep you company while he’s away.”

You never shot up from the bed so fast to call your husband. You were extremely upset with him for creating a replica of himself rather than spend time with you himself… the nerve!

But your husband reassured you it was fine. That Dee was essentially him in every single way and that Dee could be your companion. He brushed off your concerns on this being cheating since Dee was a complete biological copy of Dorian himself but Dee could be deactivated by Dorian’s voice… it frustrated you. Why couldn’t he just leave his silly inventions behind and just spend time with his own spouse once and awhile? You were so lonely in this mansion…

But you didn’t take your frustration out on Dee. The poor clone was as clueless as you but he insisted he was created to serve you. Dee’s purpose was to take care of your needs

Dee would clean around the house and do the yard work. He was the complete opposite of the stoic Dorian. He felt more like a real human being than your own husband… minus how abnormally cold he was. He didn’t talk much but he was there. You started to grow attached to him

You spent a lot of time with Dee. He’d cover you with a blanket if you sat in your reading nook to read, he’d brew you your favorite coffee/tea, and he’d rub your shoulders. You constantly had to tell Dee that it was okay. That he didn’t have to be at your every beck and call but he would always say, “you’re my purpose.”

And Dee took notice of your sexual frustration when he peaked in on you touching yourself in the privacy of the bathroom within the glass shower walls. Curiosity began to settle in him. The cute whimpers and cries from your lips stirred something within him and he pushed the door open

You nearly screamed when Dee entered the bathroom, the only place he wasn’t beside you. But what shocked you more was the large erection in his gray joggers. It seemed he was more human than you thought and you were aching for something inside of you…

You let Dee have his way with you. He truly was a copy of your husband from how much he stretched you. Dee felt so good. He was so big and he was so strong. And he oddly smelled like your husband now… like clean linen and citrus. It was comforting and sexy. It was like Dorian was with your right now. Like Dorian was inside of you.

And in your passion it spilled from your lips once your orgasm rocked through you. Three little words that changed Dee forever, “I love you.” Dee held you while he rode you through your orgasm until his finally came. His strong arms held you up and his cheeks were filled with color. You loved him. You loved him. Dee didn’t want to ever be deactivated. Des wanted to be with you.

Dee would big spoon you every night. His large body pressed as close to yours as physically possible. There was a change in him. He was starting to become warm. Warm like a furnace. It was strange…. Dee became more and more human as the days turned to months. Your texts to your real husband became less and less but he probably didn’t even notice since he was busy with his inventions.

Dee would make you breakfast every morning and have his face between your legs to please you while you ate. Breakfast and sex became the norm for you and him. It felt so wonderful to feel wanted again. And every time, Dee begged you to tell him how you loved him. He would do anything to you to hear those words. Anything.

A shame you started to neglect your real husband. Dorian was shocked to see you folded up in a pretzel in your bed while Dee slammed into you like a mad man. This wasn’t what the clone was built for. He wasn’t built to fuck you. What the hell?

And that’s when Dee gave him a smirk. It was like looking in a mirror except there was something terrifying behind those ice blue eyes. Something sinister and Dorian didn’t like it at all. Dorian needed to get rid of Dee quickly… Dorian gave Dee one last look before he walked out of the room before you noticed

Dee kissed your head as he tucked you in. “I’m going to go get some water, okay?”

Dorian waited in the kitchen for Dee to come to him and the clone did. Dorian and him stared at each other for a few minutes before Dorian sighed.

“Deactivate.” Dorian told Dee but the clone remained standing there menacingly rather than deactivating like he was supposed to. “I said deactivate-“

And that’s when Dee launched himself toward Dorian and began to strangle him. His ice blue eyes filled with glee as the color slowly drained from Dorian’s face. An evil smirk on his face.

“It’s my purpose to make (your name) happy and there not happy with you so you can’t deactivate me anymore.” Dee whispered in Dorian’s ear. “They don’t love you. They love me.”

Dee ended up burying Dorian in the backyard before you woke up. He didn’t want you to be sad about your old husband any longer….

Dee slipped the ring he took off Dorian’s finger onto his. The shiny gold band now proudly on display. A smile on his face. Your real husband was with you now and he’d make you happy.

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shrenvents · 7 months

Text

My Bounty.

Warnings: Smut. Vaginal, unprotected sex, force play. Minors dni

Pairing: Clone Wars (single) Anakin Skywalker x Bounty Hunter reader

Summary: Anakin Skywalker goes above and beyond to make your life difficult, taking whatever he wants without explanation. So when reader confronts him, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Word count: 1.7k

…

The meddling nature of the Jedi was nothing compared to the nature of Anakin Skywalker. His darkness seeps its way into everything. His dark robe, gloves, boots, curls, eyes. He was the darkness enveloping me in a dizzying spiral of hate and desire. And he did it again. He stole my bounty just so he could give me that dark look.

His gaze observes the way my fists clench and how I chew my bottom lip. A wicked smirk dances on his face as clones praise and pat him on the back. He knew exactly what he was doing, watching me with an intensity, that had me shaking.

Finally, Anakin’s eyes move away from my figure, beckoned by his Master. He stalks towards Obi-Wan Kenobi and his mocking facade breaks instantly. I nearly scream at the sight. What was he hoping to achieve? Stealing my potential profits is certainly an interesting pastime, not one you would expect from “the chosen one.”

I huff out my frustration, deflating my tense shoulders. With his back now turned, I relax. Pivoting on my heel, I hurry away from the scene. On to the next hunt, before Skywalker gets the chance to take it from me.

Frankly, I have no clue how it started, his fixation with making me miserable. I almost feel paranoid, as if I’m making up the whole debacle. But from the way he looks at me, unspeaking, I know this truly is my reality. Anakin Skywalker hates me.

...

Now glaring at my reflection within the confines of my room, my restraint runs thin. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna confront him because that sort of thing always goes well.

I head out towards the Jedi temple where Skywalker is most likely training his Padawan. While marching over, I contemplate the arguments I will bring up when face-to-face with him. How I will look into those comet-like eyes and not get distracted by his plump lips.

Moral of the story, I’m going to put an end to this one-sided game we play.

Once my vision connects with his broad back, his name escapes me without hesitation, “Anakin.” Saying it takes me by surprise, seeing as though I’ve never said it before. But clearly, it shocks him more, as when he turns around, his eyes are vaguely wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Y/n,” he says back flatly, face becoming neutral. Now I’m really taken aback by the way my name rolls off his tongue. Quickly, I collect myself and remember my well-thought-out points.

“What are you doing?” And out the window they go.

Anakin quirks his head quizzically. His silent reply to my rather stupid question ticks me off further. I’m practically vibrating with rage. “That was my mark you stole today Skywalker, you realize that?”

As if he’s finally understood my inarticulate speech, his lips part dumbly in “awe.” There he goes pushing my buttons, silently watching me unravel. “You think I wouldn’t notice?“ My face flushes red as I elaborate. “All the crooks you’ve miraculously caught are always the bounty that I’m after.”

There's a beat of silence where he inspects the way my chest heaves in exasperation. Then he speaks. “About time you did.” He states matter-of-factly. My jaw drops. “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve been waiting for you to notice,” he remarks with a bored look.

“Notice what?” I spit out, scowling at him.

“Me,” he finishes plainly. Silence engulfs us again and I take note of how close we’ve become. “Why would you want that?” I question, utterly perplexed.

“What do you mean?” Anakin’s brows furrow.

“I mean you’ve never spoken to me before.”

“Neither have you.” He counters. My fists tremble.

“Why then? Why do you need me to notice you?” I demand.

“What other reason can there be?” He grumbles while giving me a once-over, and then something clicks. My face falls.

“Those looks you give me-”

“Say just how much I want you, more than words ever could.” He ends my sentence, his face remaining stoic. My heart hammers wildly. I suspect he’s now waiting for me to make a move, to say anything, maybe even reject him. Instead, I hastily circle my head around, surveilling for bystanders before frantically grasping at his robe and pushing him into a nearby room. His facade flatters once again and I see puzzlement consume his face.

After I awkwardly turn the door knob and take us into the empty room, I shove him away. Anakin staggers back, looking completely disoriented, almost regretful. “Y/n?” He trails off. My anger is radiating off my body, and I know he can feel it.

“You should’ve said something,” I assert, seething.

“I’m-“ Anakin is abruptly cut off by my lips smashing against his. With my arms reaching around his neck, I can feel his body freeze. After a short moment, I start to peel away, dejected by his stillness. But Anakin instantly chases after me, no longer shying away.

He gropes my waist, and one arm pulls around it, while the other slides up my spine to rest between my shoulder blades. A moan evades my throat and is met with a deep groan.

His palms carve out my figure and fist at my clothes. Whines rush out my mouth as his tongue mingles with mine. He vigorously makes work of me, and I have to pull away. Though his lips instinctively follow me, I’m out of reach, so he settles for my neck. Sucking fervently, one may fear the spots he’s making, but in this moment, truthfully, I couldn't care less.

“Ani,” I whimper, and he growls against my nape in response. “Fuck, I need you,” I whisper. I feel his movements lurch and he mumbles something, but I can't seem to hear it over my haggard breathing.

He tears himself away from my neck, still keeping my body pressed against his. He then shifts his gaze around the room. “There’s no furniture here, I’ll just have to fuck you standing.” An audible gasp flees my mouth as Anakin slings my body around his torso, legs straddling his hips. His hands clench around my thighs as he hoists me up, securing me in place.

Fortunately, the short gown I threw on this morning made it easy for Anakin's crotch to caress my core through his pants. I push down on him and he groans at our proximity. "I was wondering when you would snap," Anakin mutters into my ear as his grip tightens. I whimper. "Screw you."

"Be patient. You will." He soothes. Digging my front teeth into my bottom lip, I drop my forehead to his shoulder as our lower halves grind against one another.

The sounds of our moans crowd the room and I can't take it anymore. "Kriff patience, I'm done waiting, General," I command in the most sensual voice I can muster. Evidently, my attempt to provoke him works because one of his hands leaves my thigh and clutches my hair in a fist, tugging my head back so his lips can crash into mine again. His other hand shifts down to his slacks. His breath hitches when he releases his cock, and so does mine when it springs up to my clothed clit. "Oh maker," I just about scream, head falling back.

His hands make quick work moving my underwear aside, and his member brushes against my folds. I shudder and screw my eyelids shut. I feel Anakin's gaze fixate on me. "Look at me." Hearing his order, I immediately obey.

Eyes fluttering open, I look into his lust-filled ones. Getting flustered by their heat, I squirm. "Y/n." He hushes, breath blowing across my face. Glancing at his features briefly, I nod, communicating what we both desperately need.

We both hold our breaths as he brings me down on his length in a slow glide. His cock pierces my entrance, and I clamp down on my incoming yelp. He was big. I hear him distractedly repeat my name, face buried in my collar. My eyes look to the ceiling in prayer.

His movements dissipate midway, and I feel his stomach clench. "You take me so well." He mumbles almost to himself. All I can do is bob my head in response. In this short pause, the pain disperses and all I feel is him - pleasure, darkness. His arms snake around my waist while mine harden around his nape.

Suddenly, he plunges into me, filling me up completely. My cry echoes throughout the room and I instantly sink my teeth into the cartilage of his ear. The growl that leaves him is next to primal. His rhythmic pounding begins to pick up speed, and I can barely keep up with each stroke. "Kiss me," he stammers out. Reeling back, I lock eyes with him before diving my tongue into his mouth.

His hips snap into my own, over and over. His stomach clenches once more and he pants into my mouth, "I'm close." Though I feel incredible, I'm not quite close to my limit, and he senses it.

One of his palms unravels from my body, steadily hovering over my center. Thinking he's going to touch me, I arch my back away from his embrace to allow space for his digits to meet my slit. But, as I wait, an unexpected pressure attacks my core. I gasp away from his lips and I peer down, leaning my forehead on his.

His hand isn't physically touching me, yet I feel as though I'm close to climaxing. Bewildered, I shoot my eyes from his floating hand to his lewd expression. His grin is strangely smug as he watches me. Then it registers: he's using the force to make me cum. Completely stunned, I simply bore my eyes into him, mouth agape.

Our orgasms come at once and wash over us at his charge. He puffs out a loud sigh of relief and continues to hold me, pumping slower than before, til the action ceases.

"Maker," I huff, "Next time, just use your words, and I'm yours." A smile forms on his face. He sheepishly nods, "Next time."

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 1 month

Note

A glorious idea has spawned in my brain

Hunter x Criminal!reader where they have a Batman/Catwoman relationship, however this time Omega meets the reader and absolutely adores her so the reader decides to stick around a bit (despite Hunter's protests). During this time, the reader and Omega form a mother/daughter and Hunter secretly loves it and falls for the reader everytime he sees her with Omega

Hello my lovely anon,

Thank you for such a fantastic request. I hope I did your request justice. The setting is Season 1 of Bad Batch, so hopefully you don't mind too much. I wrote with f!Criminal!reader, hope that's okay. Reader has a nickname.

Enjoy.

Also, since this isn't part of the Fic Roulette request, it'll be filed under the One Shots Master List. It's a little longer almost at 2400 words.

Love oo,

Not Ready

Warnings: Slight thieving, Omega in danger, dangling from a tower, banter, angst, fluff, shooting, dangerous driving, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Part Two

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

“Give it back, and we can just both walk away.”

You twirled the rather large knife in your hand, “Hmmm, no.”

Hunter clenched his fists, “I said, hand it over.”

“And I said no.” You smirked underneath your mask, the only thing visible on your face were your eyes. Eyes so full of cockiness, determination and experience. “I gotta ask though, why so long?” You chuckled, “Compensating for something?” You flipped it back and forth in your hand, twirling it around your palm and the back of your hand. “Has good weight.” You smirked as you arched your brow, “If you know what I mean.”

“I don’t have time for your nonsense!” Hunter looked behind, sensing the Imperial troopers closing in, he let out a sigh, and before you even realized what was happening he tried to stun you.

Unfortunately, he missed thanks to your ability to sense when danger was imminent. Without even thinking your body back-handspringed away from the blue stun blast. “That was rude.”

“Listen, I need to get to my sister, and I don’t have time to mess around!” Hunter could hear Tech on his comms as he described Omega hanging from the tower.

“Your sister’s in trouble?” All teasing and flirting died on your lips as soon as you heard that.

“Yes!”

You nodded and tossed the knife back to the chiseled red-bandana wearing man in front of you, “Let me help.”

“No. You’ve helped enough.” His tone full of annoyance and frustration. He grabbed the knife and took off running towards Omega, ignoring the pang of regret from his tone. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was running to help Omega. Yet, the frustration from having to waste even a minute on you was more than enough to make him worry about Omega’s safety and that’s all that mattered.

His feet came to a sudden halt when you appeared in front of him with a speeder bike, “Hop on!”

“What?”

“Just … I feel bad, ok! Now shut up, and get on!”

He didn’t delay, jumping on the back of the speeder holding on to your waist tightly as you weaved through traffic.

“Where is she?” You shouted over the noise of the air rushing past your ears.

Hunter didn’t respond and simply pointed to the person dangling from the tower, as another helmeted person neared her position.

You sped up the speeder, you’d know Fennec’s helmet anywhere. You weaved and dodged against the oncoming traffic, almost as though you could see where and when the next vehicle was going to be turning or shifting. Your heart nearly dropped as you saw the tiny person slip, driving faster and more dangerous to catch her in time.

Hunter reached out his hand and grabbed a hold of Omega’s in midair, tossing her onto his lap, pinning her between the two of you. “You okay, back there?” You shouted to make sure everyone was safe as you saw Fennec jump down and commandeer a vehicle of her own chasing after the three of you.

“We’re fine. Get us out of here!” He shouted as he quickly checked over Omega to make sure she was uninjured and safe. He couldn’t see much from how she was clutching to his chest plate, but it didn’t seem like she was in pain either.

“You got this?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if you know how to drive a speeder?”

“Yeah! Why?” He didn’t clue in to what you were preparing to do until you flipped over him and landed on Fennec’s vehicle.

“Hey gorgeous!” You smirked as you looked at her.

“Ugh! Should’ve known you’d be here.” Fennec answered, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her eyes on her target.

“Wasn’t supposed but I sort of owed him one. Back off.” You stood aiming your blaster into the hood.

“No can do, little Butterfly.”

Force you hated that nickname, somehow it had stuck among the bounty hunters and assassins, simply because you were quick and light on your feet. Dazzling them with your antics and before they even realized you slipped out of their sight, blending into the crowds more often than not.

“Fennec, I like you, but you need to back off!”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll split the reward with you, if you help me capture the little girl.”

You tried to stay balanced as Fennec tilted the vehicle side to side, “You disappoint me, going after a child.”

“Jobs a job, honey.”

You shook your head, “I warned you,” you shot your blaster into her engine, jumping off onto a nearby transport, watching as her engine began to sputter. She jumped to safety standing on the closest terrace she could find, as she watched you and her target move further away. You jumped down, finding your way back to the ground, hoping from one transport to the next.

Once you touched solid ground, you looked back up to see Fennec turn and walk away. ‘Until next time, gorgeous.’ You mumbled as you headed back to the marketplace, before you even got five feet away, you felt your body jerk forward as tiny hands wrapped around your waist. You looked down to see the blonde girl, the rather striking man had rescued, his sister.

“Uh… thanks, kid. I think…” you giggled as you pulled her arms away from you.

“You saved me!” She beamed with a brilliant smile as she looked at you.

“I think your brother did that. I just drove.” You subtly shook your head, subtly moving away from the overwhelming bundle of joy.

“She has a point,” Hunter offered, “if you didn’t show up with a speeder when you did …” you could tell on his face he didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.

“Listen, Fennec would’ve come up with something. She’s a bounty hunter, but she’s a fairly decent one. Anyway I’m glad you’re safe,” you patted the little girl’s head, “take care of yourself and your brother. Seems like he gets into trouble easily.” You turned to walk away when she gripped your fingers.

“Come with us.” She pleaded looking at you with big eyes that were asking for more than you were prepared to give, or have given to anyone since you could actually remember. It was nice to feel needed, but it was too much.

Hunter wanted to grab Omega and pull her away from this woman who showed up, and was constantly surprising and making him feel uneasy at every turn. “Omega, we don’t know her circumstances. She’s probably already committed to something else, right?” Hunter narrowed his eyes on the helmeted woman in front of him, not wanting her to take the invitation Omega offered.

You’ve seen that look a thousand times before. It said everything that really mattered, you weren’t welcome, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible.

“Don’t worry,” you started keeping your eyes locked on the man standing behind Omega, “your brother is right, I’m … currently … occupied with other matters.” You smiled as you turned your attention to Omega, and kneeled before her, “Omega, right?”

She nodded, not letting your fingers go.

You smiled and pulled out a collapsable vibroblade, “This is Vala,” you flicked your wrist and opened the vibroblade, “my father gave me this when I was about your age, he told me ‘this galaxy is full of good and bad people. Sometimes the good outweighs the bad, and sometimes there are too many bad, you won’t be able to find a good one. Vala, will always be there to protect you.’” You turned her hand palm-up and placed the vibroblade in her tiny hand. “It will protect you. Ask your brother to train you on how to use it. Never rely on someone else to save you, in this galaxy, sometimes the only person you can count on is yourself. Take care, Omega.” You ruffled her hair one more time, before standing up and walking away without looking back.

It felt strangely comforting to be wanted, even if it was for a brief second.

“Wait!” Hunter shouted, causing you to turn around, “We left your speeder that way” he pointed over his shoulder, you couldn’t help laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, handsome, it’s not mine.” You smiled and walked away.

Omega turned to Hunter, a saddened smile on her face, “Why couldn’t she come with us?”

“Omega,” Hunter kneeled, “we don’t know who she is. Whether she can even be trusted? It’s best if she goes her way and we meet up with Wrecker, Echo and Tech.”

“But…”

“Omega, I know you have a good heart, but you’re too trusting. It’s best if we keep a low profile and avoid entangling ourselves with people we don’t know. Come on, we gotta meet back up with the others.”

He guided her back to the hangar trying to avoid the Pantoran police force and the troopers that seemed to be searching for someone.

Omega kept watching as one Pantoran guard held up a picture to a passerby, it was a picture of you. She pulled on Hunter’s sleeve and pointed to the Pantoran’s datapad.

“They’re looking for her.”

“We should go…” Hunter tightened his grip on her hand, but she refused to move.

“We have to help her.”

“We don’t know why they’re looking for her. She could be a wanted criminal or a murderer, a thief.”

“Hunter, please. She saved me, it’s the least we can do.”

He looked at the picture and commed Wrecker, “Wrecker, where are you?”

“Just entering the marketplace right now, why?”

“I need you to take Omega back to the ship, I …” he turned his head to look at Omega, “I have to repay someone who helped us get Omega back.”

Wrecker walked through the crowd faster than the others as people naturally moved out of his way, he stood in front of the both of them, tilting his head. “Who, you helping?”

“Don’t worry about it, just get Omega back to the ship and tell Tech we need to take off the minute I get back. Make sure Echo makes it back to the ship too. We may have to get out of here faster than expected.”

“Copy that” Wrecker picked up Omega and had her sitting on his shoulder as he headed back to the hangar with her.

Hunter could hear the comm chatter between Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He let out a huff and shook his head, this was just asking for trouble. He ran back, heading the way you were walking. It wasn’t long before he found you sitting at a cafe sipping on something warm.

“Came back to tell me you love me?” You teased him.

“Came back to tell you, you’re in danger.”

“Shocker.” You didn’t react or flinch, as you kept your eyes locked on the man’s eyes.

“I need to know, are you a murderer?”

“No.”

“Do you have a bounty on your head with some crime boss or something?”

“No.”

“Then get up” he grabbed your arm and forced you to stand, grabbing your helmet as he pulled you along, running behind him.

“Wait… hey!” You stopped in your tracks and pulled your arm out of his hold, “Who the hell do you think you are, pulling me like that? You know I have the right …” he put a hand over your mouth and pushed you into a darkened alley, hiding you with his body as a Pantoran patrol passed the two of you.

“They’re searching for you, and not just the police. The Imperial troopers are looking for you too.” He stepped away and handed you your helmet, “Listen, I don’t care what happens to you, but Omega was worried, and I’m not going to disappoint her. You’re warned. So you can either go back out there and try and avoid whatever trouble you got yourself into or…” he let out a sigh regretting the words that were about to come out of his mouth, “You can come with us and we can drop you off somewhere.”

“Us?”

“My brothers, Omega and myself.”

“Why are you helping?”

“Like I said, I don’t want to disappoint Omega. So what’s it going to be?”

You looked at him and then at the increased patrols you hadn’t realized were slowly filling up the streets, they all seemed to be looking for you. You closed your eyes and tapped your helmeted head against the wall, “Alright. I’ll trust you. Lead the way.”

He stepped closer to you, “I’m taking a chance on you, you put any of us in danger, and you and I are going to go another round, understood?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fine. What do I call you anyway? Because I don’t think ‘stuck up jackass’ would work.”

“It’s Hunter, and what do I call you? Because I don’t think ‘crazy tooka’ works.”

You smirked as you looked at him, “You can just call me Butterfly. Hunter.”

“Fine. Now let’s go. Butterfly.”

“You know I’m not as bad as you think.”

“And hell is just a sauna, shut up and follow me.”

As much as you tried to fight the urge to smile, you couldn’t help but enjoy the banter you two had. You also couldn’t help but examine his physique as you followed behind him, moving around the crowd, ducking and avoiding capture until you made it to his ship.

Omega ran to you and hugged you again, “I knew he’d find you, come on. Let me show you inside.”

She gripped your hand and dragged you along. You weren’t looking for family, but … as you moved closer to the ship, there was a strange sense of belonging that came from meeting the rest of her brothers. For the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

Hunter watched you and the way Omega gripped your hand, as you introduced yourself to Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He had to admit, you were attractive, when he saw you without your helmet, he almost felt his tongue getting all tied up. Not to mention, the outfit you wore also drew attention to your physique which didn’t help. He didn’t know why but he had a feeling this could either be a really horrible idea, or it would be a very pleasant surprise.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

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bring-backup-99 · 11 days

Text

Before It Gets Too Late

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)

WORDS COUNT: 1926

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics

NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.

So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.

For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”

“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.

“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.

“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.

He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.

“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”

“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.

“That is not what it is called.”

“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”

“I was contemplating something similar.”

He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.

“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.

“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.

“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”

“That…is acceptable.”

Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.

Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.

“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.

“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.

Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.

Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.

“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.

“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”

* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.

“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”

You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.

“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?

“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.

“No,” you agree.

Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.

You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.

Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.

“Tech?” You call up.

“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”

“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.

There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”

You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.

“What’s this all about?”

Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”

You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.

“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”

“Skeptical? Why?”

“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”

You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.

This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.

You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.

And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.

You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”

Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.

You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.

He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.

And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”

“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”

“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.

“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.

“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.

* But wait, there’s more: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3945640

#tech smut #tech x you #tech x reader #tbb tech #tech bad batch #tech #tech the bad batch #clone trooper tech #bad batch tech #tech x oc #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #smutty fanfiction #the bad batch tech x reader #bad batch fanfic #bad batch fic #Let Tech fuck

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sinfulsalutations · 11 months

Text

𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪 ⋆*･ﾟ

Sometimes when he's right next to you.

"You have a piece of food stuck in your two front teeth."

"Why didn't you just tell me that... out loud? You're literally right next to me."

"I was already on my datapad. Craning my neck up and talking would require more energy. Wanted to save the time."

"...Sure, Tech. Thanks for telling me."

"Of course, dear."

Sometimes it's when he's away from you; his thoughts can't help but come to what he's missing.

"I saw a blooming Eucharis grandiflora while on a mission. Made me think of you. I have it tucked into a pocket in hopes of giving it to you when I return. It'll look even nicer in your hair, I believe. A picture is attached to the end of this message. Miss you endlessly, dear."

Other times it's funny little observations he would've kept to himself before.

"Crosshair seems more grouchy than usual today. I wonder what has got him hissing like a lothcat."

He'll message you in mass about whatever has raked his brain.

"Must finished a new coding project. I've really enjoyed learning the 'outdated' Coruscanti standard coding language, I do not know why they would change it, the commands are easy to use and they execute its orders well, and the new one is far too derivative I might say after using both..."

He's messaged many times:

"You look very nice today."

And in succession, send something along the lines of:

"Of course, you look nice everyday, but more so it feels in this moment. I hope I didn't cause any doubt or confusion, cyare. You're never not enchanting."

He'll ask you to grab things:

"Would you please go get me an R4 switch from the top shelf? I would, but I'm quite cramped under the board here. A thank you in advance."

And your favorite message you've gotten as you were falling asleep mindlessly scrolling on your data pad:

"I see you dozing off, dear. Go to my cot and rest. I'll join you soon. Goodnight, I love you."

a/n: bouta get on a plane in a few hours, wrote this at the gate while very bored lol. hope u enjoy the nonsensical tech brainrot 🤍 ~ tags: @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower

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dickarchivist · 6 months

Note

Hello!

I am obsessed with your OC Clone squad. Thanks for sharing them with us!

You said you’re taking requests so I’m sliding in with one 👀

I’m taking from the same delicious NSFW prompt list @dystopicjumpsuit used!

The prompt is “Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” with Ghost. He seems so sweet and deeply caring. With his cybernetic eyes perhaps eye contact is important to him/his partner???

Do with this as you please, no pressure! 💕

Thanks @starrylothcat for the fic request!! I'm so excited to deliver, and for my sweet boy Ghost too 😭

I Will Know You Forever, Even In Darkness

Clone OC Ghost × fem!Reader (civilian mechanic) (new relationship)

Word count: 2860

🔞Minors DNI🔞

Prompt: “Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.”

Summary: After a scare on a mission, your new sweetheart's in recovery at the hospital. When you're finally allowed in to see him, you make up for lost time.

Contents and Warnings: fluff and smut the ultimate combo, bit of angst at the beginning, PiV sex, mentions of eye trauma (nothing graphic), yearning good lord the yearning this man does for you. Happy ending, pinky promise.

Author Notes: This fic takes place directly after the mission that causes Ghost to lose his eyes and get his prosthetics. No actual eye trauma is described in detail, it's only stated that he lost them from acid splash, and he's given cybernetics as a replacement.

Small cameo of others in Grave Squad, the jedi of the 404th, and even smaller cameo/mention of two other sw OCs I've made over the years.

Sorry this one's so long, but also not sorry at all because I think it's really good.

When The Crypt lands in the hanger, you're absolutely thrilled. Ghost and his brothers were home at last. You set down your tools and twll your assistant you'd be back in a second, to which they roll their eyes with a smile, "Boyfriend's back huh?"

"Shush," you giggle, and start toward the ship with glee. But the closer you gwt, the more your smile fades

Wraith is out first, Specter and Banshee carrying a stretcher after him, "Careful! He's fragile, don't jostle him, I just got his vitals stable again!"

Guilt bubbles in your stomach as you hope and hope that the clone on the stretch was Phantom. You wouldn't wish for any of them to be hurt, but please. Please, anyone but--

"Ghost's gonna be fine," Phantom stretcha as he gets out of the ship, play wrestling with Wraith in a bad attempt to lighten the worried media's mood, "You saved his face, I'm sure he'll thank you for that when he wakes up."

"If he wakes up, Tommy!" Wraith spits at his brother, poking his finger hard into his chest, "Like I said, he's fragile, we can't be too cautious! I don't know the extent, he could die for all-"

"Wraith." Specter's voice cuts like a knife. He had noticed you when you'd arrived, and knew all the talk wasn't helping your anxiety.

"He's... he's not going to die, right?" There's a tremble in your voice, your hands are gripping the front of your jump suit so tight its almost hard to breathe, "He can't, he's- please..."

Phantom pushes his brothers along, the stretcher jostling just enough that Ghost's arm falls limp from it, and the cry that comes from you is mournful enough to make the hanger fall silent.

Wraith tries to comfort you, but his anxious yammering only proves to make things worse. Phantom catches your shoulders, then pulls you into a hug, "Hey, hey Mesh'la, it's fine. It's fine, Cap's been in worse spots than this. His name is Ghost, not Dead Guy, right? Afterlife can't get him, he's stuck here with us. Take a breath, okay, it'll be fine. He'll be fine."

His brothers keep you up to date while you aren't allowed in to see Ghost. He's lost both his eyes. They tell you he was heroic, only thinking about the lives of the people he was protecting during the battle. Wraith later confides in you that he believes it was his fault, that if he hadn't forgotten his helmet, Ghost wouldn't have given him his. Ghost's eyes wouldn't have been lost. You want to be angry, but you know them too well at this point.

"Rai, you didn't take his helmet off him. You didn't throw the acid. You didn't do anything malicious... Specter said you kept him alive, it was your quick actions that saved him. Stop calling yourself Ghost's attacker, he'd hate to hear that..."

Wraith nods, but doesn't say anything else, just goes back to Ghost's hospital room to do his best in helping his brother. You get the feeling that Wraith isn't going to belive it's not his fault until Ghost tells him that himself.

On the fifth day, you hear a voice you don't recognize.

"I don't care, no one is going to replace Captain Ghost." There's a few garbled words, then the voice came back, more forceful, "Ghost, not CT-1313." There's another pause before you hear a snarl, "HIS NAME IS GHOST!"

There's hushed murmers, then the voice speaks again, "Good, now that we're clear that this is a man and not a number: you'll give him new eyes. Yes, I do mean that. I do not care what it costs you, he's an irreplaceable asset to the 404th, and I will not have him decommissioned when the best course of action is to replace what he's lost."

You don't realize how close you've gotten to the door until it a little girl grabs your hand, "It's not polite to easedrop... it's fun to do though."

You'd seen her once before, Ghost called her "Vod'ika", and you aren't sure if that's her name or not. She's got her ear pressed to the door, and she giggles, "Oooh, Master Dax is angry, he's using his little voice."

"Master-" when the door opens, a yellow zebrak in jedi robes stands before you. His bright blue eyes catch you, then the little girl behind you.

His glare turns to a funny face immediately. Hands beside his head flaired out, tongue sticking out, eyes crossed. It makes you laugh for the first time in days. "Good!" The zebrak booms, holding your shoulders, "We like happy. Happy means hope, and what's wrong with a little hope right? You must be this "Cyare" Ghostie has been muttering about in his sleep, I know all his brothers, and none of them have that moniker, Athena there is "Cyar'ika", so Cyare must be you!"

You know that word, you heard it often when you were a mandalorian foundling as a child. Beloved. Your face blooms with blush, and you look down at the kid behind you, then back to the man, "uh... y-yeah, I guess so."

"Good, good good good, excellent, good!" He puts his arm around your shoulders, leading you away from the door you'd been camped in front of since Ghost was admitted, "Listen Cyare, Ghost's gonna be fine, Wraith and another clone, I don't know if you know him, Repeat, they'll be preforming Ghost's surgery. Why you ask? Because I don't trust those smug asses with my boys!" His laugh booms again, and you can't help your giggle either, "Now, Re is from my previous Padawan, now a master, so proud. Re is from Annika's battalion, the 418th, let me tell you..."

Master Dax talks your ear off for hours. But it takes your mind off of the situation, and before you know it, Specter is collecting you from the enthusiastic jedi, "Buir, shut it. C'mon, Ghost's up, he wants to see you."

You wave to Dax and Athena, thanking them for spending the day with you. As you walk the now familiar path to Ghost's room, you find that your pace moves quicker the closer you get. Specter chuckles at your side, "Just run, we told the staff to let you in."

"Thanks," you manage before sprinting away. You're running so fast the doors don't part for you at one point and you slam directly into them, eliciting uproarious laughter from a few of the clones lucky enough to see the disaster. It takes a lot of patience to slow down enough for the automatic doors, but eventually you're where you need to be.

Wraith is waiting inside Ghost's room for you. He's fidgeting more than normal, and when he sees you, his speech goes into over drive, "Okay keep in mind I'm not perfect I did my best and he's my brother so of course I did my very very best for him and Repeat was a huge help please don't be mad at-"

"Wraith," Ghost's voice sends your heartbeat further into overdrive, "Shut up before she thinks you killed me." There's humor... stars you're so happy to hear that light chuckle, "C'mere Cyare, I want the first thing I see to be you."

Before you go to his side, you stop at Wraith, kissing his cheek lightly, "Thanks for brining him back to me..."

"Y-yep." As Wraith stumbles out of the room holding his cheek, you cross to Ghost.

Your hand finds his, and immediately his head turns to you with a smile, "There she is, my heart. Rai said the bandages could come off a few hours after surgery. Told him I wanted you to be there for it, hope that's alright."

You don't say anything. You climb into the bed with him, your arms wrapping around him, tangling your legs together as best you can with the blanket over him. Ghost kisses the top of your head as you settle in, rubbing your back, "I'm alright..."

"I know."

"If I'm not handsome anymore, you can always date Phantom, he hits on you enough to where I think he might be serious." He chuckles, but when you don't, he stops. Ghost's hand finds your cheek, and brings you to look at him, even though he can't see you yet, "Hey. I'm not going anywhere, alright? I'm alive, and I want to see you... please Cyare, let me see you."

You move on him, straddling his hips, thankful for his eyes being the only injury this time. You hold his face gently, and he steals a kiss to your palm, making you blush. "Ghost..?"

"Hm?"

"It's not just your looks, you know that, right? It's you. Even if you're still blind, or your face is weird, I'd still want to be with you... Phantom's gross anyway, not made of boyfriend material like you." When he laughs this time, so do you. Hope, you think, a little hope is good.

Careful, so much so you're holding your breath, you begin to take off Ghost's bandages. His eyes are closed underneath, and you cover your mouth for a moment. It's like a mask of scars tissue, still gently pink from the acid. When he flutters his eyes open, white irises meet yours, and you can help but cry. Tears stream down your face, and Ghost looks almost dejected before you croak, "You're okay..."

Ghost lets out a breath of relief, his new eyes focusing on you, "I was hoping to see you smile, but I'll take happy tears too. They are happy, right?"

"Yes!" You burst, bouncing in his lap a little with the laugh, reaching for him again as you go to kiss him.

Ghost gives an appreciative "mmm~" as your lips find his. He puts his hands on your hips, one leaving its post rather quickly and rubbing across the small of your back and side. He's surprised when you deepen the kiss, and you feel his length move under you as your tongue slides over his. He chuckles when you part, and looks up at you with new eyes, "Careful there Cyare, I'm getting excited."

"Is... is that a bad thing?" You bite your bottom lip a little and deliberately roll your hips on him this time, "I... I missed you, and these last few days, I couldn't stop thinking about... a-about how I don't want to be without you."

Ghost throbs against you, but you get the feeling it wasn't because of your movements on him, rather your words. You keep rolling your hips on him, wanting to feel him yourself, "For a moment I thought you were gone, and I realized I didn't get to tell you how I feel-"

"Stop," he holds you still, his hands finding yours, "Don't say it. N-not unless you mean it, got that? Don't say it because you feel like you have to."

You recognize the look of fear in his eyes, of rejection, pain from a love once spurned. You're not each others firsts, but you do know one thing, you want him to be your last firsts. You put your hands on Ghost's and guide them to your heart. It beats fast against his palms, much as his does on yours when you reach out to him. You mirror each other's moves, one hand each going to hold your cheeks. His thumb rubs your cheekbone, eyes locked with yours, "Cyare..."

"Kar'taylir darasuum." The mandalorians who found you, became your family, they had taught you this phrase when you left them. With how Ghost's eyes soften at you, you know he understands them too. You repeat them to him all the same, beginning to rock on him again, "I will know you forever, Ghost."

Ghost repeats them back to you, his hand guiding your face to his for another kiss. It's slow and lingering, when you pull back, he's smiling so warmly, lips gently parted with soft breath, "I will know you forever, even in darkness."

Ghost's eyes roam down between you, and blush finally shows on his face, "Cyare, if we don't do something about these clothes, I might throw a fit."

You're both giggling as you fumble with your clothes. Soft stolen kisses, small gasps of appreciation, little stories of "What's this scar from?" And kissed freckles. When you're standing beside Ghost's hospital bed fully bare to him, he looks at you with so much adoration. His hand reaches for yours, and you're guided back to his lap. He's bigger than you thought, his length hard in your hand. "Wow..."

"I could say the same," Ghost chuckles and puts his hands on your hips, eyes on your slick folds before slowly working up to your eyes again, "Never seen such a beautiful body before."

You bite your lip as you move against him, running his length through your folds to slick him. The groan he makes joins yours as you toy his tip against your clit. Ghost smiles up at you, hands holding your breasts, circling your nipples with his thumbs, "Stars you feel great already... Cyare, mmm~"

Your eyes flutter closed as you take him into your waiting walls, "Ghost..."

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby," when he speaks, it's so soft, so breathy and light, you're not sure if you heard it or thought it. You look down at him, and he already looks love drunk. Eyes half lidded, his hands move down to your hips again and pull you further onto him. You moan, bracing on his chest, and he groans with delight, "That's right baby, eyes on me... I want to see you."

"Ghost... kriff, s-so full," your eyes stay on his as you start to move on his lap, taking him fully each time you lower back down. You start slow, easing yourself through the burn of the initial stretch, but soon you're at an even pace. The sticky wet sound of his length moving in and out of you fills the room with your tandem breathing.

His hands hold you tight, hips bucking up into you as you bounce on his length. His eyes flicker between yours, your breasts bouncing, and the way he glides in and out of you with such easy. You whine for him, hands balling in his chest hair, clenching around his length, "Feels so good, Ghost, s-stars." When his fingers slide to your clit, you cry out for him with an arch of your back, "Ghost! Ah!"

"D-dont look away," his other hand holds your face, thumb running over your bottom lip before you take it in your mouth and suck. Ghost's eyes widen a little, his hips stuttering before the pace quickens, "Oh kriff..."

You release his thumb and lock eyes with him again, "I'm close, do-don't stop, don't stop, Ghost, oh-" a whine releases from your lips as he rubs your clit faster, eyelashes flutter but you keep your eyes open, closer and closer to the edge, "Ghost, oh, oh baby, oh Ghost!"

"S-stay with me baby, come on, s-so close, so--" he grunts, his hips snap up into your walls in an intense build of pressure before he sits up off the bed with a cry of your name, spending himself inside you without restraint.

His wild bucks and intense attention to your clit were enough to get you to the edge, but feeling him fill you with his spend, it sends you over into ecstasy. You collect his lips in a kiss as you orgasm, body clenching around his length and shuttering with aftershocks of pleasure. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you come down, and as Ghost holds you close, kissing your neck and shoulder, you feel so warm and safe.

Small drops of warmth hit your shoulder, and for a moment concern holds your body still. Was he hurt? You pull away to see Ghost's face, and to your surprise, tears are filling his new eyes, falling down his cheeks. You hold his face gently, wiping the tears from his unmarked skin, Careful of the sensitive scarring, "Ghost... what's wrong baby?"

"Nothing," he laughs a soft cry, kissing your lips just once, "I'm... overwhelmed. Spent the last month thinking of this, the last week needing to see you, just one more time, and..." He chuckles, feeling silly, kissing you again, "I can't believe this is real."

Your heart flutters, how is he this sweet? You press a delicate kiss to his forehead as you ease the both of you down. You nestle under his chin, still full of him, not willing to let that feeling end yet, "It's real, I promise."

After a few minutes of silence, Ghost rubbing your back in soothing circles, you're nearly asleep when you hear him again, "Did you mean it...?"

"Hm...?"

"You love me?"

You press a sleepy kiss to his jaw, "I love you, Ghost."

His heart picks up, you can feel it against your own, and it has you smiling. Ghost gives you a little squeeze, going back to rubbing your warm skin, "I love you too, Cyare."

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