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dystopicjumpsuit · 10 months

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Tup à Trois

Happy Tup Tuesday! Inspired by this delicious (and NSFW) Tup Spicy Alphabet Headcanons post by @deejadabbles and the absolutely unhinged conversation that followed.

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader x Jesse

Wordcount: 2,519 words of filth

Warnings: SMUT; threesome; oral sex; femdom; lingerie/stocking fetish; exhibitionism; voyeurism; cum eating; PIV

A/N: this didn't seem that kinky when I was writing, but now that I see all the warnings written out, I'm starting to think I might be desensitized. There must be something in the water. Anyway, here's my beautiful boy.

Previously, on Tup Tuesday | Masterlist | Join my tag list here

“It’s just sex,” he says. “No reason to make it weird if everybody’s down.”

Your gaze drifts over Jesse’s body. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t hotter than Mustafar, but his particular brand of arrogant swagger does nothing for you. You far prefer Tup’s sweet, quiet sincerity and understated confidence. But if it’s just sex? Jesse looks like a wild ride.

He stretches casually, showing off the muscles that bulge beneath his uniform, and when you look back up to his face, he has a smug expression that makes you want to throw something at him. Like a drink. Or your pussy.

“See something you like?” he asks insolently.

You dart a guilty look at Tup, realizing you’ve been ogling his brother right in front of him, but to your surprise, his eyes are trained intensely on your face, his pupils dilated so wide that you can barely make out the rich brown of his irises. You recognize the desire in his gaze, and you realize—Oh. He likes that idea.

You’ve learned that Tup likes to watch. He’ll lie in bed next to you, watching you play with yourself for hours as he whispers sweet words of lust and encouragement. In fact, he often brings new toys for you when he comes home on leave. This is the first time the toy he’s offering is one of his brothers, though. Your eyes dart between Jesse and Tup, and they watch you with the same expression: pure, unbridled craving.

“Want to get out of here?” Jesse asks.

You turn to Tup, and he nods. You slide out of the booth so fast you nearly pitch forward onto the floor, but Tup catches you, and the three of you stumble out of the club. As Tup hails a cab, Jesse pulls you back against him and slides his hands over your hips, dropping his mouth to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder and licking his way up to your earlobe. His facial hair is a little more prickly than Tup’s, and the unfamiliar rasp of it sends shivers through your body.

Distantly, you hear some jackass cat-calling the two of you, but you’re too aroused to care. Tup rejoins you, and he kisses you with a sweltering intensity before he tugs you across the landing platform and helps you into the waiting taxi. Jesse slides in next, and then Tup, and soon you are flying through the skylanes toward your flat.

Jesse, clearly not shy about performing in front of an audience, continues his exploration of your body, his mouth and hands roaming over your skin, sliding under your dress to tease you through your silky undergarments. Tup sits back and observes, his erection prominently tenting the front of his uniform. You meet his eyes, silently inviting him to join in, but he just murmurs words of lewd encouragement as Jesse redoubles his efforts.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” you ask as Jesse buries his face between your tits.

“I didn’t know if your mouth was off-limits,” he says. “Tup?”

Tup looks to you, and you give him a tiny smile.

“Give her what she wants,” Tup orders.

Jesse’s kiss is overpowering, breath-stealing, confident, assertive—just like the man. He ravages your mouth with tactical precision, all tongue and teeth and heat. When you reach your flat, the three of you crash through the door in a tangle of limbs and lips. Jesse kicks off his boots without ever pulling his mouth away from yours, even as you unfasten his uniform jacket and shove it down his arms. You fumble with his belt buckle, and his trousers are next to go, leaving him in only his boxers and undershirt.

You slide your hand inside the elastic waistband of his underwear and grasp the hot, rock-hard length of his cock, and you feel a sticky wetness on your wrist where his tip brushes against you. Reaching lower, you cup his balls.

“That all you got?” he asks with a cocky grin.

Raising an eyebrow, you take him in a firm hold, and a harsh groan wrenches from his throat as he thrusts against you. So he likes to play rough. Interesting.

“Enough,” Tup’s voice cuts through the need that clouds your brain, startling you with its harshness. “Jesse, strip. I want her to see you.”

You shoot an uncertain look at Tup, but Jesse only smirks.

“Enjoying being in command, little brother?” he asks, a taunt clear in his voice.

“Shut up and get naked, Jesse,” you order, and his eyes dart to yours in surprise, before darkening with arousal.

“Tup, you didn’t tell me she was so mean,” he says as he pulls off his shirt. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Nobody asked you to talk, pretty boy,” you reply.

“Shit,” he breathes, his movements slowing to a halt as he stares at you, his jaw slack.

You tilt your jaw imperiously, and he drops his boxers and steps out of them, and then he stands before you in full, glorious nudity. You try to maintain your bravado, but holy kriff, Jesse is something else. You know he’s older than Tup, and you can see it reflected in his body. Tup is strong and undeniably fit, but he’s leaner than Jesse, whose bulk is almost intimidating now that you can see the full extent of it. He has incredibly broad shoulders, a thick chest and solid core, and absolutely massive thighs. You reach a hand out to stroke down his abdominal muscles, and he shoots you a slow smirk that says he knows exactly how good he looks.

Undaunted, you make your way around him in a languid circle, stopping to admire his frankly incredible ass. He turns to watch you over his shoulder, and you notice that he subtly flexes his muscles as he does so.

“This isn’t a strip club, baby,” he says. “You can touch the goods.”

“I’m not your baby,” you say, but you slide your hand over his ass anyway, digging your nails in a bit as you squeeze the firm muscle.

As you circle back to stand in front of Jesse, Tup steps close behind you, hands drifting over your shoulders as he kisses your neck. You lean into him, and you hear the faint sound of a zipper lowering as your dress goes loose around you. He lets it drop to the ground, and you step out of it, still wearing your heels. Jesse hisses out a curse when he sees you standing in nothing but a sheer, lacy bra, matching panties, and thigh-high stockings held up by a flirty little garter belt.

“She isn’t mean to me,” Tup says with a smirk.

“Fuck me,” Jesse says, awed.

“That’s the plan,” you say.

“Do you think he’s earned it?” Tup asks.

You eye Jesse speculatively. His gaze is riveted to your tits, and you can tell how badly he wants to touch you by the way his hands clench and release. Tup sees it, too, and he torments his brother by stroking his big, calloused hands over your body, cupping your breasts and thumbing your nipples through the lace of your bra, then sliding a hand down to slip inside your underwear and caress your cunt. His fingers circle your clit and then slide inside, and your legs nearly buckle from pleasure.

“I’m not convinced,” you say, forcing yourself to keep a steady voice. “Maybe if he begs… On his knees.”

Jesse’s eyes snap to yours, and he gets that cocky look again—the one that says he’s not going down that easily, but Tup intervenes.

“God damn, you’re wet, baby,” he says, and you know he’s doing it on purpose to goad Jesse, because he never calls you that. “Sweetest little pussy in the galaxy. You should taste her, brother. I swear you’ll never want to eat anything else.”

He withdraws his fingers from you and brings his arm across your throat as he raises them to his mouth. You tilt your head back onto his shoulder and watch as he sucks your taste from his own hand. When you look at Jesse, he’s watching too, and he doesn’t say a word as he sinks to his knees.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” you tease. “Unlike your cock. Maybe I’m not the only one who sees something to like.”

You step a foot between his knees and brush your leg against his erection. Fuck, he is absolutely rigid and dripping precum. He thrusts against your shin, smearing himself on your stocking.

“You’re making a mess,” you say.

“Clean her up, brother,” Tup commands.

Jesse wraps a hand around the back of your calf and slides it up to your knee, raising your leg to his mouth. Tup stabilizes you from behind, his strong arms holding you steady. He still has one hand on your breast while his other arm drapes across your throat, and the pressure is just enough to make you lightheaded. The coarse wool of his uniform scratches your skin, driving you wild with the thought of Tup, fully clothed, watching a fully nude Jesse explore your body. Jesse licks the sticky fluid off your leg, then begins working his way up, kissing and licking, and occasionally taking the sheer, delicate fabric of your stocking in his teeth and pulling it away from your skin, only to let it snap back against you. The pair will be ruined after tonight, but it’s worth it to see the frantic lust in Jesse’s eyes.

When he reaches the top of your thigh-high, he pauses his progress to slip his hand inside and stretch the fabric, eyes trained on the movement of his fingers beneath it. He spends so long admiring it that you nudge his cock with your high-heeled foot, just hard enough to pull another one of those delicious, ragged grunts from him.

“Pussy isn’t going to eat itself,” you say. “Be a good boy and get back to work.”

Tup makes a helpless sound in your ear, and Jesse takes a deep, shuddering breath. Obediently, he slides his hands up your thighs to squeeze your ass, brushing across the scrap of fabric covering your entrance, and then he tugs your panties down your legs.

“Clever girl, wearing them on top of the garter belt,” he murmurs.

“Fortune favors the prepared,” you smirk, but you don’t get to enjoy your victory for long, because Jesse hooks his shoulder under your thigh and plunges his tongue into you. “FUCK!”

Tup huffs a breath against your face as you scream out the curse, and you can feel his cock pressed against your ass. He stares down your body to where Jesse is joined to you, devouring your cunt with the ardor of a starving man.

“Can you hold her, brother?” he asks softly.

Jesse nods his head without ever pulling away from you, and without warning, Tup lifts you off the floor as Jesse pulls your other leg onto him so you’re seated fully on his shoulders, straddling his face.

Fuck, he’s strong, you marvel, as he supports your weight without difficulty. His hands grip your ass, angling you perfectly into his mouth, and within minutes, you feel your body tightening in on itself. You grab onto Jesse’s head as your hips instinctively begin to writhe, and when he scrapes his teeth across your clit, it shoves you violently over the precipice. You scream as you fly apart, but it isn’t Jesse’s name on your lips. Tup makes the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard when he hears you chanting his name as he watches you come on his brother’s tongue.

“Can you take another, love?” he whispers hoarsely in your ear. “Will you let Jesse fuck you while I watch?”

Jesse is still working his tongue at a maddening pace, and your body jerks and thrashes between the two men. You’ve lost the capacity to speak, but you nod your head frantically, and Jesse finally withdraws from you. Tup lifts you off him and holds you, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your shoulders, as Jesse stands.

“Where?” Jesse asks.

“Sofa,” Tup says.

Jesse crosses to the couch, and Tup deposits you gently on his brother’s lap, then retrieves a chair from the kitchen table and sets it in front of you. He strips efficiently, and by the time Jesse has the two of you arranged, Tup is seated in front of you, legs spread wide as he lazily pumps his cock.

“Are you ready?” Jesse asks, his breath hot against the back of your neck.

“Yes,” you say, and you can’t quite keep your voice from shaking. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and you can tell without looking that he’s grinning against your shoulder.

He eases into you slowly, and once he’s fully seated, he starts to move. You hang on for dear life as he fucks into you, your legs straddling his, and your arms stretched over your head to hold onto his neck. He cups your tits roughly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, and when he pinches your nipples, you know he’s getting revenge for your little stunt with the high heel.

“Don’t hurt her,” Tup warns.

“She can take it,” Jesse grunts, his voice strained. “Can’t you, darlin’?”

“That all you got?” you ask, parroting his earlier snark.

He reaches down to play with your clit, and as he does, he leans the two of you backward so you’re nearly lying flat on top of him, which has the happy effect of laying you open on full display for Tup to appreciate.

“Oh, shit,” Tup breathes, barely audible.

Jesse pounds into you until your legs cramp and your body slicks with sweat. You keep your eyes on Tup, watching as his hand moves faster and more deliberately, until at last he grips himself in a tight fist, and with three final, brutal thrusts, he comes, shooting thick spurts of sticky, white cum across his torso. That’s all you need, and you convulse around Jesse’s cock, crying out in bliss.

“Fuck!” Jesse pants in your ear. “Shit—You’re going to make me—where do you want me to—”

“Not inside,” you gasp. “Come on my ass.”

He pulls out of you, and you drop to your knees on the floor between Tup’s thighs. Jesse scoots forward, and you can feel the slap of his cock and fist as he jerks himself against your ass. Leaning forward, you lick the cum off of Tup’s skin, delicately lapping up every last drop as he watches you from under hooded, sleepy eyelids. Jesse lets out a rough groan, and you feel liquid heat splatter on your lower back and slide down your ass.

He flops backward with a whimper that almost makes you want to go for a third round, but Tup gazes down at you with adoration in his beautiful caramel eyes, and you snuggle against his torso as he wraps his arms around you.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

---

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul @secondaryrealm @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @goblininawig @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

#tupperware is for sharing #tup tuesday #clone trooper tup #arc trooper jesse #clone trooper tup x reader #sw tcw fanfic #tcw fanfic #dystopicjumpsuit writes #juicy jesse

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samspenandsword · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022/23 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Kinktober Day 11 — Erotic Photos with Tup Pairing: Tup/Reader; fem!reader with no specifics to her appearance other than a clothing mention. Rating: Explicit, 18+ (Younglings, foundlings, and cadets BEGONE!) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, smut; masturbation, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, dirty talk, sexting, erotic photos, dom/sub undertones if you squint, implied loss of virginity, language. Word Count: 4.4k (don’t look at me)

Sam's Pen and Sword Kinktober 2023 Taglist Form

So I’m not normally a Tup girl but @theroguesully sent in this request and it fucking grabbed me by the throat lol I hope you enjoy!

The beating of the bass and the fluctuating colors of the club lights made you feel alive. Like the bass was thrumming in your veins, rather than through the speakers. Like the colors were emanating from you rather than from the club lights. Paired with the alcohol pleasantly buzzing through your system, you felt positively spectacular.

But it was the fact that you were out with friends that really brought the night together. You could go to any old club any time you wanted. But the giddiness in you was multiplied by the fact that you were surrounded by your best friends.

And a whole club of attractive people.

The club 79's on Coruscant hadn't exactly been open long. In fact, it had first opened and established itself as a clone bar, but word had quickly spread that the club had everything from live music and dancing to sports and every drink from pissy ale to fruity cocktails to top-shelf Corellian whiskey.

You loved 79's, it having quickly become a favorite of yours. The atmosphere of the place was so unlike any other you'd been to. It wasn't a place to come if you were exclusively looking to hook up, though that certainly happened. It wasn't a place where you went to get shit-faced and forget your sorrows, though that happened too. And nor was it a place you went to throw money at dancers or gambling tables. This place had it all, though what most people were looking for when they came to 79's was fun. Everyone from the clones fresh off deployment to the clones about to go back out, to the civilians who mingled in between them all, everyone was having fun. And it was the atmosphere of genuine smiles, laughter, alcohol, and music that made this place like no other.

Currently, you were weaving your way through the throngs of dancing people, it being your turn to go buy a round. Your friends shouted their orders at you, as if you didn't already know them by heart, and one whistled at your ass as you sashayed towards the bar. You tossed a wink and a rude finger his way, making him toss his head back with laughter.

You grinned and shook your head. You loved your friends.

You waited your turn as the two bartenders scuttled back and forth, obviously harried and busy as people swarmed up to them to order. The bar was practically standing-room-only tonight, but you didn't mind. When one of the bartenders, a pretty Twi'lek with lilac skin, finally turned to you, you recited the order — an Alderaanian red, two meiloorun punches, a Tatooine sunrise, a spotchka on the rocks, and a simple rum and cola for yourself — telling them to take their time. No rush. You knew all too well the stress of a service industry job.

You lightly bopped your head along with the music, the song vaguely familiar and pleasant in the way all pop songs were. Unknowingly, you'd begun to smile, simply vibing and enjoying the atmosphere of the night.

But a clone caught your eye. Well, more like you realized he'd been staring at you.

He was attractive in the way all clones were, but something about him was inherently cute. He had long hair, something you'd not really seen on a clone before. It was swept back into a bun, a few errant curls escaping and framing his face in a way that looked so good in the club lights. He had a small tattoo of a teardrop under his right eye.

He blushed when he realized he'd been caught staring.

You smiled. How cute!

"Take a picture, sweetie," you said, right as the bartender sat a tray down in front of you, bearing your drinks. You passed them a handful of credits and a hefty tip. "It'll last longer."

With a wink, and a widening smile at the way the clone blushed even harder, you slipped back into the dancing masses, swinging your hips to the beat of the music.

"Took you long enough!"

"Eat bantha fodder," you said, no real heat in your words. The tray was quickly passed to a serving droid as everyone took their drinks. You all raised them in the air, toasting to your night out and continuing to dance and drink the night away.

About an hour later, you still felt quite comfortably buzzed, the crowd having only gotten thicker as the night stretched on. Your group had split off for a bit, Takai somewhere off to the side with a trio of men dancing around them, Jane and Bera off to the fresher, Victor over by the sports screens, cheering along with a small crowd watching pod racing, and Matt likely at the bar. Deciding to find Matt, and that you needed another drink, you weaved your way towards the bar again.

Finding Matt wasn't exactly hard. A handsome and magnetic personality, he was currently standing at the bar, right beside a kitted clone with a small tattoo of the number 5 on his temple. And the near-matching, flirty grins on their faces made you smile to yourself, deciding instead to leave Matt be.

But Matt spotted you, waving you over with a bright grin.

"Fives, meet the ultimate pain in my ass."

"He's just mad his ass will never be as gorgeous as mine," you said, laughing.

Fives, the clone, and obviously an ARC trooper judging by the amount of armor he was wearing, chuckled, sending you a charming smile.

"Nive to meet you —" You gave him your name. "You're one of Matt's friends, right?"

"Yep!"

"Where are the others?" Matt wondered.

"Take a guess where Takai is."

"Dancing."

"And Victor."

"Pod racing."

"Bang on. Jane and Bera went to the fresher."

Matt sighed and shook his head, adopting the visage of a wizened sage disappointed with his pupils, of whom he expected better. "They broke the seal."

You laughed. "Had to happen at some point."

"But so soon?"

You laughed again. "Not everyone has a bladder the size of Coruscant, Matt."

If Fives was freaked out by the casual way you and Matt spoke about such a strange topic with each other, he made no indication of it. In fact, he laughed along with the both of you.

"Breaking the seal," Fives said. "Never heard that before, I like it."

"We've been calling it that since school," you said, grinning. "Maker, there'd be nights we drank so much that after we broke the seal, we'd have to get up four or five times in the night just to go to the fresher."

"Remember the night Victor thought he could hold it?" Matt said, with a big crocodile grin.

You laughed loud enough to draw eyes. Fives, observing your mirth, said, "I take it that didn't end well?"

"Nope," you and Matt said together.

"I remember one time when — oh, Tup! Hey, Tup!" Fives suddenly caught sight of one of his brothers, waving him over enthusiastically.

Fives introduced you both to Tup, and you smirked at the way Fives nearly purred Matt's name. "And this is Tup, my brother and best friend."

You looked at the clone. Well, whaddya know...

"Hi, sweetie," you said, "fancy meeting you here."

He blushed, but flashed a smile.

"You two know each other?" Fives asked, still smiling, but looking a little confused behind it.

"Nah," you said. "Not officially. I just have way too much fun teasing people."

"Oh, Maker," Matt moaned. "Tup, whatever she said, don't take it seriously."

"And why not? I was, in fact, 100% serious." You leaned back against the bar, tossing a coy look towards the younger clone. You hadn't been serious at the time of course, but there was something about this cute trooper.

You wouldn't say no if he seriously wanted to take a picture.

"Tup, seriously, man, ignore her."

You pouted over at Matt, and he stuck his tongue out at you.

"It's okay," Tup said, speaking for the first time. "I liked it."

You'd heard that same voice many times, but there was a unique inflection to each clone's tone, or timbre. There was a breathiness, almost, to Tup's voice, not quite the gravelly, booming tones of some of his brothers.

It was certainly very different from Fives' voice, which Matt would say dripped with sex appeal, but you would say flashed with trouble.

Matt would say that it's the same thing, of course.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Tup asked, eyes fixed on you.

You were pleasantly surprised, but smiled instantly. "Of course, Tup. Thank you."

Matt's jaw had dropped beside you. "Did I go for the wrong brother?"

Fives smirked. "If you wanted a drink, all you had to do was ask."

"I shouldn't have had to," Matt sniffed, though his lip twitched into a smirk of his own.

"Well then, how can I make it up to you?"

Matt's fingers lightly trailed along Fives' wrist. "I have a few ideas."

You turned to Tup and mimed gagging. He snorted.

Only a couple seconds later, the bartender dropped your drinks off, and you were further surprised that Tup had ordered another rum and cola for you — how he had guessed that was your drink in the mix of drinks he'd seen you with earlier, you couldn't fathom, but Tup saw the surprise in your expression and smirked just the tiniest bit, raising his beer to his lips.

You took a sip of your drink, good mood raising even more. There was more to this cute clone than you'd thought.

"So what brings you and your friends here tonight?" Fives asked you and Matt.

"What else?" Matt grinned.

"A good time," you finished.

Fives flashed a salacious grin. "What kind of good time?"

You both laughed. "The kind with good friends, good music, and booze."

"That's not just a good time," Fives said, smiling more warmly now. "That's the best time."

You smiled too. "True that."

"And are you having a good time?" Tup asked. You looked over, thankful that the music was loud enough to where he likely couldn't hear the way your breath hitched at the way his eyes were locked on you.

"The best time," you said. And you dared to touch his hand, just barely skimming your fingers over the fabric of his glove.

The apples of his cheeks grew rosy.

The night drew on, the four of you laughing and chatting at the bar. Victor barged over at one point, just long enough to grab a round of beers and spotchka before heading back to the sports screens. Takai swept over for another drink as well, a trio of men flitting around them. They winked at you and muttered not to wait up for them. You winked in return. Jane and Bera emerged from the dance floor at one point, introducing themselves to Fives and Tup. But as soon as Jane's new drink was set down on the bar, her face fell.

"I have to hit the fresher again."

"You broke the seal," Matt trilled, haughtily.

"Fuck you and your enormous bladder."

"How have either of you not caved yet?" Bera said, eyeing both you and Matt like you were gross but mildly fascinating lab organisms.

You hated to admit it but, "I'm actually reaching my limit."

Matt glared at you, offended and disappointed. "You dumb bitch, you're dead to me."

"Love you too." You blew him a kiss.

"I'll come with you," Fives said. "I know my limits, too."

Matt adopted the most pathetic, dejected look you'd ever seen. "I definitely went for the wrong brother."

Fives smirked. "We'll see."

You snorted before smiling over at Tup. "Watch my drink, sweetie?"

On the way to the freshers, you leaned over to Fives, muttering low, "Matt enjoys a good manhandling, by the way."

Fives quirked a brow, lips turning up into a panty-dropping, boner-inducing smirk. "Good to know." His smirk shifted into something more of a smile. "Tup likes when people mess with his hair, but beyond that I'm not sure what he likes. Not sure he does either."

You smiled. "Guess it's up to me to help him find out."

"Go easy on him now," Fives laughed. "When he came back to the table earlier his face was nearly purple. What did you say to him?"

You laughed, simply winking in response.

As the night stretched into the early hours of the morning, you found yourself back on the dance floor, the feel of the bass in your chest not nearly as intoxicating as the feel of Tup, dancing just in front of you.

You had come back from the fresher with Jane, Bera, and Gives, finding Tup still at the bar chatting with Matt and another clone, this one bearing a Republic cog tattoo around his head. Tup's hand was curled protectively around your drink. Your heart warmed.

"We're back," you announced. Matt sniffed, but Tup smiled over at you, cheeks looking rosy again. Whether from the empty glass in front of him or the sight of you, you weren't sure though.

You liked to think it was you.

The clone with the Republic cog tattoo turned. He smirked. "Hey, I'm Jesse. And you are?"

You smirked back. "About to go dancing." You tossed back what was left of your drink and looked at Tup. "Care to join?"

Tup shot the tiniest, sly smile his brother's way before looking back at you. "Absolutely."

You held out your hand, and he took it. Your heart skipped. When had he taken off his gloves?

Didn't matter. You loved it.

As the two of you disappeared onto the floor, you could swear you heard a "Go, Tup," from behind you.

The both of you danced, you without reservation, and Tup more shyly. Awkwardly. He looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do at first, but the more you encouraged him, the more he got into it. He still moved a little awkwardly, but it was endearing.

The two of you slowly merged, coming closer and closer, until you realized suddenly that your chest was pressed against his, hands splayed over his shoulders and neck. Tup's eyes were wide, his hands hovering above your waist, unsure if he should touch you or not.

You smiled. He was just so cute.

"Is this okay, Tup?" you asked, sliding your hands back, ready to pull away if he said so. The last thing you wanted was to make this sweet clone uncomfortable.

But Tup's hands went to your hips, touching lightly, just enough to stop your retreat, then gripping more firmly, reeling you back in. "Yes."

You smiled, settling yourself back against his chest, but still wanted to reassure him. "It's okay if you're not comfortable with this, Tup."

"I'm not," he said quickly. "I mean, I am comfortable. It's just..." You couldn't tell if he blushed or not in the dim dance floor lighting, but the way his eyes softened and shoulders hunched a little told you he had. "I'm new at this. Sorry."

Don't apologize," you said instantly. Your hand slid up his neck slightly, just enough for your fingertips to brush into his hair. He shivered lightly. "Everyone's new at this at some point. There's nothing wrong with that. But I think you're cute, Tup, and I would like to have fun with you. Whatever you want that to mean."

Tup continued to look at you, expression a little unsure, but not uncomfortable. "And if that means I want to take a picture?"

Your eyes widened, a little surprised by the bold statement. But pleasantly so. Tup read your expression wrong, nearly backpedaling, but you fully slid your fingers into his hair, drawing your other hand down his chest in a caress. He shivered and leaned into the touch.

"If that's what you want, sweetie. All you have to do is ask."

And you kissed him.

* * *

Tup removed his bucket with a sigh. His entire kit needed a good scrubbing after that grueling campaign. He and the 501st had been back out for two months now, most of that having been spent on this latest campaign. But the battle was now won, and General Kenobi's 212th had swooped in to help the 501st fully secure the area. And now, with the victory won, the 501st found themselves able to relax. Sit back, get their minor wounds checked. Clean their armor. Touch up their hairstyles. And when General Skywalker announced that they were being given another liberty due to the hard work they'd put in on this last campaign, the entire legion burst into excited activity.

The journey back to Coruscant wasn't what Tup would call short, but he was excited to get back nonetheless. Back to you.

He'd have never predicted that you'd come into his life. Not in a thousand years. But eight months ago, when you'd winked and flirted with him at 79's, he found he could no longer picture his life without you. The two of you weren't what he'd call "official," not in a traditional capacity at least, but you were exclusive. You'd been so patient with him that first night, helping him learn what he liked and didn't like, his preferences and desires. He'd been fumbling, awkward, unsure, but you hadn't made him feel insecure in the slightest, instead smiling endearingly at him and encouraging him to voice his wants, no judgment, and always assuring him that if it was too much and he wanted to stop, that all he had to do was say so.

He never did. He never wanted to stop.

He hadn't actually taken a photo of you that night, though. Instead, he'd simply basked in the feeling of his cock surrounded by your fluttering, silken heat, and the feel of your hips against his, and your hands in his loose, errant curls.

Over time, Tup had grown into the dynamics and relationship. Grown into his wants and desires. Become more confident. More sure. More demanding in some aspects. He knew you loved it, especially when he leaned you back on your couch without ceremony or announcement, dragged whatever panties you were wearing down your legs, and feasted, guiding your hands into his hair.

He loved when you tugged on his hair.

Tup absently ran a hand over it. He didn't keep it in a knot anymore, instead having learned to braid it back in the way you'd taught him.

"I can't imagine that bun is terrible comfortable under your bucket," you'd said, running a comb through the curls after a steamy shower that had had you on your knees and his thighs shaking. "Why don't you braid it?"

You'd been right, of course, it was more comfortable under his bucket. But it was also a gentle reminder of you, each time he weaved the strands back. And he loved being reminded of you.

"Hey, Tup!"

It was Fives. The ARC came jogging down the hall towards the barracks, catching up with him. "Ready for liberty?"

"Ready to get out of this suit first," Tup said. His undersuit was disgusting and he was ready for a shower.

"Oh, yeah, same. But you know what I mean." Fives waggled his brows in the way only he could. "Ready to go see your lady friend?"

Tup laughed, but didn't answer beyond that. Fives watched the smile on his brother's face.

"You're happy, aren't you?"

Tup smiled. "Yes."

Fives smiled too. "Good."

"Don't act like you're not the same," Tup said, smirking suddenly. "I've seen the messages you send Matt, they make my eyeballs bleed."

Fives shrugged, entirely unapologetic. "Teach you to mind your own business."

"As if you've ever minded yours a day in your life."

Fives grinned.

The two split off, Fives heading for the bridge to hand in his report, and Tup went off towards the barracks and sonics. They were empty save for him, most everyone at the mess or medbay or the bridge handing in reports. Shucking his armor and piling it neatly at the foot of his bunk to scrub later, Tup tore off the top of his undersuit, leaving him in just his leggings. Tup gently unwove his hair, sighing as it came undone from the braid it'd been stuck in for three days. He definitely needed to use the sonic.

His pad pinged.

Tup glanced at it, wondering if it was a reminder from Appo or Rex of the due dates for reports (so like his homework back on Kamino), or Fives sending some meme from the holonet to the group chat, but Tup lit up when he saw your icon.

Picking up the pad, Tup clicked on the message, smiling. And promptly froze.

Missing you x

That was the message, a message that Tup barely read in favor of staring at the accompanying photo.

He wished he could say he looked at your face first, but instead his gaze was captivated by the expanse of your thigh, cushioned by the familiar sheets and blankets on your bed, leading straight up to the tantalizing curve of your ass and dip of your core, both just barely covered by a silken, slink of a shirt in a perfect 501st blue.

The buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing a trail of skin along your stomach, up past your navel, to the valley of your breasts, the barest hint of cleavage peeking past the hem. One collar was held in your hand, those hands of yours that drove him wild, and the other collar dipped off your shoulder, baring it in a stupidly seductive way. The length of your neck drew up, bare and devoid of the little dark marks Tup discovered he loved seeing on your skin, and only then did his gaze fall on your face.

He groaned softly, seeing the lusty gleam in your hooded gaze, the barest upturn of your lips in a tempting little smirk that begged to be kissed, the ever-so-slight tilt of your head, as if you could see him through the photo, and were inviting him to bed.

Tup's cock was already half hard, the things you did to him.

Another message pinged.

Hope you're safe x

For all the innocence of the message, there was nothing innocent about the photo. This time, you faced the camera more fully, allowing the slip of a shirt to fall more open, baring more of your breasts to him, but still not fully. Your hand had fallen from the collar to rest on your thigh, and Tup could practically feel its softness under his own fingers. And just at the apex of your thighs, Tup saw your other hand disappear past the folds of blue fabric.

He groaned again, his own hand flying to palm his hardening cock.

Maybe I'll cook up your favorite when you get back? x

A third picture followed. You had allowed the shirt to fall fully off your shoulders, its length resting down your arms, and fully baring your chest to him in a way that made Tup groan again and press harder down on his cock. You reclined yourself back against the plushness of your pillows, hand spreading your glistening pussy lips wide open for the camera.

Tup couldn't take his eyes off the way you bit your lip and the way your eyes gleamed with arousal. Clutching the pad hard, Tup used his free hand to shove his leggings down just far enough to release himself, and took his throbbing cock in hand just in time for the next message.

Or maybe we could go to 79's? Get all our friends together for a night out? Maybe get Jesse and Takai to stop dancing around each other? x

Your eyes were closed in pleasure, mouth open just the slightest bit as your talented fingers dipped into your pussy. Tup could see the way your walls stretched around them, and could practically feel the warmth and wetness of you around his own fingers, which worked steadily up and down his cock. Pausing to spit in his hand, then resuming, Tup found himself wishing it was his hand cupping your breast and in your pussy, and your hand on his length.

And don't worry, I'll do your laundry x

Your hand pinched at your pert, swollen little nipple as the other worked inside you. Your legs were now splayed open, giving Tup a perfect view of everything you had, and the way your arousal was clearly dripping onto the sheets beneath you. Tup began to pump faster.

The photos kept coming — you, massaging your tits and pinching your nipples with shining fingers. You, three fingers working deep inside your pussy and massaging in a way that made it clear how much you were enjoying yourself. You, your fingers in your mouth, tasting your own sweet, heady nectar. Tup brought his thumb up to his tip, catching the beading precum to smear it along his literally throbbing cock, imagining the taste of you on his tongue.

More photos came in, each of them accompanied by some innocent, innocuous, casual message. All the way until you had your head thrown back in ecstasy, your thighs clenching in a way Tup recognized, and he knew you were cumming.

The sight of it made him burst, his hand pumping furiously until he exploded all over his fingers and stomach and thighs.

It took several minutes for Tup to come down and catch his breath. Good thing these leggings already needed to be washed. Because they were now thoroughly soiled.

And he was still rock hard. He always was when he thought of you, minx.

One last message pinged.

Hurry home, sweetie x

You smiled at him through fluttering lashes, sated and entirely too proud of yourself.

Tup was so going to get you back repay you for this. And he'd love every second of it.

* * *

You found yourself refolding the blanket on your couch from where you'd been tucked beneath it earlier, reading, when your pad dinged. Your smile was a little mischievous as you opened the message.

Miss you too x

The photo of Tup's hard, thick length in his hand was glorious, made only better by the sight of his seed smeared on his fingers, stomach, and legging-covered thighs. You grinned, bright and happy. You couldn't wait for Tup to get home.

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