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jpoakbrook · 2 years

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A MEDIC AND THE TECH

one shot: i'm obsessed with the clones, and this was written after Bad Batch initially dropped. Love my husband Crosshair, but this one goes out to the cute lil nerd becoming unhinged.

NSFW: smutty as fuck, boiiiiii

summary: Reader (Female, You, no Y/N) is a medic working with the Bad Batch. You've had a crush on Tech since one of the first missions with them, and... well, one thing leads to another, and you kiss him!

There must've been a misunderstanding, though, because he doesn't kiss you back.

Instead, you decide the only way to get over Tech is to pick up a clone at the 79's; Tech isn't entirely pleased with that idea.

A deep scowl took the clone’s lips as he pressed a cotton swab of bacta to the deep gash on your upper bicep. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you wanted to kiss the wrinkles on his forehead. His caramel eyes were focused on the task at hand, and when he looked up to meet your gaze, you couldn’t stop the inaudible gasp from parting your lips just a little.

“I thought I told you to be careful.” His voice was stern and had just the smallest hints of teasing. There was always the smallest hint of teasing in his tone whenever he reprimanded you, which was not very often. The twinkle in his eyes always jumped at the opportunity. You, as the squad’s assigned medical officer, were usually the one doing the reprimanding. This group got injured pretty frequently, so you've given a lot of lectures over the last 3 months.

“I can’t help it if danger is attracted to me,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. It made the cut sting, but there was no way in hell you were going to let him see the pain. You couldn’t stop the sting of tears that came to your dry eyes, though, as the cut on the top of your thigh started to ache from lack of attention.

“Why you insisted on going without armor is still beyond my understanding,” he muttered, mostly to himself, as he turned his attention back to the cut on your arm. He had to have known you were uncomfortable because he gently ran the cotton swab over the wound again. It somehow brought an ache to your thigh, and you squirmed just a little in your seat. You could see him suppressing that smug smirk from taking his lips.

“Tech,” you whined softly, your thigh wound starting to burn in response to the cool relief on your arm. He looked up at you with a lopsided smirk that you wanted to slap off of his face. Or kiss. You hadn’t really decided yet.

“Yes?” was all he said. He was kneeling in front of you as you sat on one of the few seats in the main hold of the Marauder. He had been the only one to escort you back to the ship after your little scuffle at the market. It wasn’t like he volunteered.

Hunter had to stay to try and smooth things over with the owner of the stall whose long claws probably still held bits of your skin and blood. Wrecker and Omega had been armloads deep into the latest snacks they wanted to get. Echo was desperately trying to get food with actual nutritional value, and Crosshair wholly ignored the interaction after it was broken up by Hunter. The danger was gone, so he no longer cared about what happened next. Hunter asked Echo to bring you back to the ship, but Echo ordered Tech to do it since he didn’t trust Tech to buy food that was both good for the body and tasty. He had no doubt that Tech would find the most nutritious meals in the market, but he knew that Tech also didn’t care what it tasted like as long as it got the job done. Being a Corporal and the only other officer in the group than you and Hunter, Tech really had no choice but to comply.

“It… hurts,” you whispered now as you looked down at him, your admittance being accompanied with a faint pink on your cheeks. He was peering up at you through those tinted goggles and giving you that wide eyed stare he always gave you. It was both infuriating and intoxicating, the way he looked at you so curiously.

Wrecker had been your favourite the moment you were introduced to the Batch. He had been the first to give you a big grin, fist bump, and fast to chat. Omega was just as loveable. You found yourself mostly in their company the first hour. When you hit the cafe with your new squad an hour later, you found yourself sandwiched between Wrecker and Tech, across from Hunter, who was between Crosshair and Echo. Wrecker was too busy shovelling food into his mouth, and the Sergeant decided it was probably a good idea to get to know his newest officer.

Conversation flowed easily, and you were not surprised at how suspicious and tight-lipped this crew was. You had been in your last position for nearly 6 months before you were reassigned to this one, so you had gotten to know the clones that manned the starship pretty well. When you had taken the classes and tests to get your weapons certifications, it was mostly out of curiosity and love of knowledge and skills. Then you were surprised with a reassignment as a field medic, something you never wanted or thought possible. You were pretty sure only clones were field medics, but, to your mild dismay, war counted as desperate times and your reassignment was desperate measures.

Echo was the easiest to get information from. You vaguely recall meeting his old training squad many missions ago, but they were a faint and hazy memory. Still, he knew what it was like to come to the group bright eyed and bushy tailed. Hunter warmed up a little, and you were pretty sure it was because he could literally smell just how unthreatening you were. Sure, you could shoot your mandated rifle and potentially hit some targets. Didn’t mean you wanted to. In your lab, you could twirl a vibroscalpel between your fingers with a practiced expertise, but on the field, a vibroblade felt foreign, huge, and a little clunky. You were also still getting used to wearing armour, something you never had to do aboard the medical station.

That’s why you decided not to wear armour when you went shopping in the market with the group today. You figured you would be fine since shopping was easy business, and Hunter reassured you that the stop was going to be less than an hour for refueling and stocking up on supplies. He had insisted that you wear your armour, though, but you were as stubborn as Crosshair at times.

That was why you were literally forehead to forehead with the reptilian owner of a stall who was trying to rip you off for 50 credits for a small sack of noodles that you knew cost 20 credits at best. And that’s why he was able to accidentally swipe your left arm with a dismissive wave of his hand when he told you to get out of his face. And that’s also why the knuckles of your left hand--gloveless like your out-of-armor self insisted--were split open and bleeding from when you reactively punched him. And that is still why he, in his anger and reaction, managed to swipe at your right thigh with his other claw, two of them digging into the flesh there.

Hunter jumped between the two of you, shoving you both away from each other, lest your temper get you literally killed. He was barking orders at you, but the blood rushing in your ears made them muffled. The others were talking, and you didn’t calm down until you felt Tech’s hand on your arm. Your glare had been focused on the stall owner, but his touch made your eyes turn to him and soften. His lips formed a thin line, and you could feel his stare running over your wounds.

“Let’s go,” he said to you and tugged your arm as he led the way back to the ship. He left no room for arguments or a way out of his grasp. You cast one last look at the stall owner, and a satisfied smile came to your lips as you saw him rubbing his cheek in pain while talking to Hunter.

Now, Tech was staring up at you from his spot in front of you, and you wanted to melt into the ship’s walls and never return.

“Yes, of course it hurts. They are open wounds.” His response was as “this is obvious” as his tone usually got, and you wanted to snap his goggles on his face.

“I know. I can clean them myself, you know,” you said, eyeing him as he swapped out the cotton for a fresh one. He held his hand out, palm up, and motioned slightly to your hand. You slipped your hand into his, and the contact was electrifying. Your hand was small in his, your skin soft where his held hard calluses. You could feel them on his palm, as expected, but also on the pads of his fingers from years of tinkering with metal and trinkets. His hand was surprisingly warm, which was a stark contrast to your usually cold hands.

You thought you heard him sharply inhale at the touch, but you weren’t sure. You weren’t going to ask. You didn’t think you could manage words at this point, not comprehensible and professional ones, anyway.

~ * ~

You had always been strangely attracted to the clone. You shouldn’t say strangely, you suppose, since he was an attractive man. Matching Crosshair in height and only a couple inches shorter than Wrecker, Tech had an undeniable confidence that he boasted with his straight back and shoulders. The way he spoke, even when wrong, was that of a man who knew everything there is to know. The way his fingers danced on the screen of his data pad, his eyes flicking on the information there and in his goggles, was interesting to watch because you had no idea how someone could consume information as quickly as him. But he wasn’t just a confident little nerd who had a slight screen addiction problem. He was still fully capable and deadly in the field, and you saw it for the first time when he had come to your aid in your first firefight.

You didn’t know what you were doing, clearly, and Hunter had told you to stay put. You were crouched behind what remained of a stone wall, and the Batch advanced without you. “When the coast is clear, run forward to the next building,” Hunter had told you. Unfortunately, the coast was absolutely not clear as a rain of blaster fire targeted you from behind. You scrambled to the other side of your wall, chest heaving, and you heard Hunter’s voice in your helmet. “Don’t worry, Wrecker and Tech are on their way!”

Wrecker came steam rolling in, guns ablazing, as he distracted the droids on the east side of the street with a throw of a car door. Tech was a blur of motion as he ran to your position, crouching down beside you and barely leaning out of cover to shoot the droids on the west side. You were grateful for your helmet as your mouth dropped open, watching him take out the droids with accuracy. He rolled from behind the wall to a different, better position behind a mound of rubble, where he gave Wrecker coverfire to finish off the small group of droids. They walked up to you, and you could almost see the grin on Wrecker’s face as he shouted with glee.

“Aren’t ya havin’ fun?” he demanded of you, a strong clap on your back knocking the air out of your lungs, your brain, and every cell in your body. Maker, he was strong.

“I do not think she is enjoying her near death experiences, Wrecker. This must be incredibly uncomfortable for you,” Tech had said, looking at you with concern. His eyes were the only ones you could ever see, since he always wore those goggles, and the level of humanity in them always made you feel better.

There was a whirring from behind you three, but the droid who stirred back to life suddenly sprouted a hole in its head. You whipped around to see Crosshair on top of a roof, lowering his sniper rifle, and he offered you all a smug little salute.

“Are you just going to stand there while I do all the work?” his sneer came through the comm with a crackle. You rolled your eyes and looked at the pair who came to your aid.

“Thank you,” you said firmly. Wrecker just laughed and went on about how it was his job, and he was good at his job, before jogging off in the direction you were headed. You went after him, and Tech fell into step behind you.

“Wrecker is right, you know. It is our job to watch out for our squad,” he said.

“I’m sure you guys do a wonderful job of it. None of you have died so far,” you replied with a smile on your lips.

“And we intend to keep it that way. Now that you are part of the squad, I hope you will adhere to the same sentiment. You take care of us, and we take care of you,” he said. Something in his tone made you look at him weirdly, and that was the first time you can recall your crush on Tech starting.

~ * ~

Tech was brushing the bacta onto your knuckles, and you were acutely aware of the way he held your hand; his fingertips were ever moving, ever drumming, ever dancing as he adjusted his grip an almost distracting amount of times. You didn’t mind though, it was as if he was giving you a hand massage with the cleaning.

You relaxed into his touch and let him finish up on your hand. His touch soothed the pain there and lulled you into a state of near-sleep. But his hesitation snapped you out of your daze, and you looked at him sharply. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m going to have to clean your thigh wound,” he said with his usual factual voice.

“You don’t have to, Tech, I can do it. It’s easy to reach.”

“No, your hand is still wounded, and I would rather not have germs spread where unnecessary.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Your head tilted to the side as you looked at him. You watched his cheeks take on a slightly reddish hue. In a moment of shock, you realised he was blushing. You knew you shouldn’t, but you desperately wanted to tease him. “Is something the matter, Tech?” you asked, innocence dripping from your voice as you tilted your head to the side. This time you certainly did hear him inhale sharply.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded. Your eyebrows shot up your forehead as you took in his order, knees spreading automatically. It was involuntary. When someone ordered you around that firmly, you listened. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he settled in between your legs. You could feel his breath on your thigh as he whispered, “good girl.”

A shiver ran from your core and up your spine.

Tech gripped your inner thigh with his left hand, fingertips sure to leave red marks even through your leggings with how strongly he held you. His right hand touched a fresh swab of bacta to your wound, and you hissed in relief at the sudden cool gel on your burning hot wound. Your head fell back, and a breath you didn’t know you were holding released with a sigh. You saw Tech measuring your breath via the rise and falls of your chest. You didn’t mind his gaze.

He very slowly, very gently, cleaned your wound. You were acutely aware that his forearm was a mere inch or two away from giving your clit the friction it started to ache for. You watched him carefully, but he seemed to have a laser focus on getting you healed up. He rested his hand between your wound and your pussy, turning his head ever so slightly to look at you from the corner of his eyes.

“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice lower, huskier, and with the backing of a growl in his throat. You could hardly breathe, and it took all of your strength just to nod at him. He smiled in satisfaction and stood up. His movement took away his body heat, and you didn’t realise you were cold until then. He noticed the little shiver, and he reached above you to pull a blanket out of one of the many storage compartments. Gently wrapping it around you, he finished off the action with a small squeeze of both of your shoulders and a kiss to your forehead.

You froze.

He froze.

Neither of you dared to move.

His breath came heavily through his nose, and his chapped lips were still rough against your forehead as he held your shoulders in his hands. You savoured his warmth and his touch, and the kiss was driving you insane.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he finally broke the seal between his lips and your skin. You were terrified he was going to pull away and never speak to you again, so you stood up before he could move back. There was a mere inch between your body and his as you quickly rose to tiptoe. Your fingers slipped underneath the top of his chest piece of armor, and you yanked down roughly. He bent to your will, and you roughly pressed your lips to his. He was certainly taken off-guard, and it wasn’t at all how you pictured your first kiss. You had let your desires flare, giving in to the need to kiss him. You let go with a small gasp.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered quickly and took a small step back from him. The look in his eyes was unreadable; you rarely could interpret his expressions. The voices of the others approaching the ship made him turn on his heel away from you and stride to the cockpit. You stood there, watching him, and felt a deep ache in your chest, a sharp twist in your stomach.

You messed up.

~ * ~

The flight to 79’s was excruciating. On longer flights, you would often take the foldout seat behind Echo’s copilot seat, chatting with him and Tech, learning new things you had no idea about. There was no way you were going to sit that close to Tech, not after you forced a kiss on him like that.

The flight from that market back to the barracks had been long and silent, you opting to curl up in one of the bunks and regret everything you’ve ever done in your life up to that moment. He didn’t talk to you when you got to Kamino, didn't even look at you, and was solely focused on turning in the whatevermajig electronic thing you guys had gotten on your mission. Job well done! Yay! Congrats! All that jazz. The group decided to go to 79’s to chill out for a while and celebrate another completed mission. Omega stayed back on these celebrations.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hunter asked, his eyes narrowed on you. He sat across from you in the main hold, and you knew he could sense your discomfort and anxiety.

“Nothing,” you lied. He gave you a look, and you sighed. You knew he could hear your heartbeat betray your words. “I’ll be fine. Just a little awkward,” you reassured him.

“What is?” he pressed. Your eyes flicked to the cockpit, and he looked over. Wrecker was chatting with Omega in the gunner seat, and Crosshair was up in the crow’s nest, so there were only 2 options for him to pick from. Unfortunately for you and Tech, everyone else in the crew knew you both had very shy and very strong crushes on each other.

“What’d he do?” Hunter asked, a curious eyebrow perking on his forehead.

“Nothing,” you said a little too quickly, a blush rising on your cheeks. “That’s the problem… I did something, and he did… nothing.” You softly explained the situation to him, worried that he might overhear, but he was busy chatting with Echo about some new drink the 79’s recently put out.

“That’s really awkward,” Hunter agreed, and you huffed, rolling your eyes at the Sarge.

“I thought we were having a moment, but… I read it wrong. He hasn't spoken to me since, won't even look at me,” you said.

“So what will you do?”

“I’m gonna get fucking plastered and see which one of those lucky regs gets to take me home tonight,” you said with a shrug. Hunter couldn’t help but laugh at that, and he leaned back in his chair.

“That sounds like a plan."

“Don’t know if it’s a good one, but it’s the one I got,” you responded. He could hear your heart thumping as you stole another glance at the cockpit. Your sigh was so soft that only he could hear it.

“S’okay, kid. Tech probably just didn’t know how a normal guy is supposed to react to that,” Hunter lied to protect your feelings. But you both knew he was being kind. Tech, like his brothers, was known to take company from the 79’s now and again. Wrecker, Hunter, and Echo seemed to have a steady stream of companions when they went, with Wrecker’s being more like a herd flocking to his size and Echo’s more like a flood hoping for a chance with the war hero. Tech took companions the same reason he did basically anything else in life: for science and research. He seemed to always have something new he wanted to test in practicality. It hadn’t bothered you when he spoke about it before, but now… you didn’t want to think about it.

Mostly, when your crew stopped at 79’s, you were eventually left with Crosshair as your companion. He only took a lover when he needed a release, not that they weren’t constantly throwing themselves at the broody man. You found yourself on a clone’s arm now and again, but for the most part, you just enjoyed the way the sullen sniper let his bond with you deepen after his brothers had all taken their leave. He was surprisingly kind to you in those moments, and it was usually after witnessing your face as Tech walked away with his newest research assistant.

Tonight was different. You weren’t going to sit on the sidelines and wait for them to be ready to leave in the morning. You were going to distract yourself from your feelings, and you were going to leave before Tech. You didn’t want to see who he picked up, but you certainly wanted him to see yours.

The club was just as loud and crowded as you remembered. You usually hated crowds, but it was a welcome distraction tonight. Wrecker was the first to part from the group, dancing his way into the thick crowd in the middle of the floor, greeting those he knew and those he didn’t alike. Hunter, Tech, and Echo secured their usual booth, and Crosshair escorted you to the bar to grab drinks for the group.

"6 Zandarian Screamers, please!" You called out to the bartender over the loud music and chatter. He nodded and set to work on the cocktails.

"You look vindictive today," Crosshair noted with a tone of… was that happiness? Pride? He sounded like he didn't think you were capable of the emotion. "Don't tell me you let that egghead put you in a foul mood." You just huffed at that and rolled your eyes. He let out a sinister sounding chuckle. "I like this on you. Very dark. A good look."

"I'll look a lot better after a few of these," you responded as the bartender handed them a tray of drinks. You took it with a smile at him, and Crosshair quickly took it with a frown at you. He hadn't known you to spill a drink while sober, but he had no doubt you would be jostled in the crowd on the walk back to the table. He held the trays high above the heads of the dancers, and you made it to the table without incident. Hunter and Tech were on one side of the booth, Echo on the other. Both of you made him scoot over to allow you in, you sandwiched between the two brothers.

"Screamers! Nice!" Wrecker grinned as he stopped by the table for the first drink, as was customary for the group. Hunter raised his glass first.

"To the best Clone Force in the galaxy," he toasted. You all cheered and harshly clinked your glasses against his, spilling some liquid onto the table, before you took a drink. The Screamer was sour as a mutated lemon and a trail of fire burned down your throat from the liquid. True to its name, most of the group roared out in the pain. Wrecker did so with a laugh, dancing back into the crowd with his glass in hand. Crosshair managed to grimace the pain away, but his sigh of relief at the end of his tension betrayed his true feelings on the drink. Thankfully, only the first drink hurt. The rest of the drink was cold as Hoth to soothe the fire.

"So, which one has caught that eye of yours?" Crosshair asked you, careful not to look at Tech as he did. You saw the clone stiffen slightly at the question from the corner of your eye, but you urged your attention to Crosshair. You were shrugging, about to spout some non-committal response, but Echo interrupted you.

"Oh, are you looking for a dance partner tonight?" His golden eyes lit up in excitement, and he was beaming at you. He was always so supportive and sweet.

"Different kind of dance, mate," Crosshair drawled as he slipped a toothpick into his mouth. He was smirking at Echo, whose face changed as realisation started to hit him.

"Oh…! Well, what about that one?" Echo's tone shifted, and he went from offering to helping. He pointed across you and Crosshair and into the crowd of people. You weren't sure exactly who he was pointing at, but you decided to make it a point to Tech that you were over the horrifying misunderstanding.

“Hmm… no, doesn’t look like he’d last very long,” you said with a light giggle, making Echo chuckle in response. The corner of Crosshair’s lip curled; he knew what you were doing. Tech’s fingers swiped across his datapad a little harsher than normal.

“He looks like he’d show you a good time… for a reg,” he added with a lazy wave of his hand to one of the clones standing in a small huddle near the bar. You looked up and caught his eye, offering him just the smallest of smiles. His was pretty broad in return. Tech’s lips were pursed.

“He looks too green. He’s barely got his official armor, Cross, and you think he could handle me?” you tease, prying your eyes away from the clone as you turned to the man beside you. Crosshair’s smirk was all knowing. If there was anything he could fairly compete with Tech on, it was the complete lack of humility either had. They weren’t over-confident, though they were arrogant; they had the skills to back up their words.

“If it’s someone to handle you, why look any further?” Crosshair asked, his raspy voice loud enough for the table to hear him. “I’d be happy to show you how a real man dances,” he said. He reached up with a finger and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

Across the table, a glass shattered in Tech’s hand.

All of your eyes turned to him in complete and utter shock. His own glare seared holes into your interaction with Crosshair, and his gaze held you in their cold regard for just a moment before he looked at what remained of the glass in his outstretched hand. Liquid coated his skin and the table, shards of glass lay strewn, and ice was dancing away from him.

“My apologies. It seems I have accidentally broken a drinking glass,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained.

“It’s s’alright, mate. Why don’t you go back to the ship and get your hand patched up,” Hunter suggested with a jerk of his thumb at the exit. “In fact, why don’t you escort him?” he asked, looking at you.

“Hunter-” you started.

“You’re our medic. He’s hurt. I’m giving orders,” he said simply. You could’ve overruled his orders since you were still technically a Medical Officer and out of his jurisdiction while not on a mission… but then Crosshair had to go and open his mouth.

“Is it really that pressing of a matter that it can’t wait until after we’ve had our fun?”

Tech jerked out of the seat, his knee hitting the table as he jumped to his feet. The remaining glasses shook violently, and Echo had to save his from toppling.

“Go,” Hunter ordered firmly, and you nodded. Crosshair got out of the booth to let you out, and his breath as hot on your ear as you brushed past him.

“You’re welcome.”

That smug bastard was a curse and a blessing, and you didn’t know which as you stared at Tech’s back. He weaved his way through the crowd with a swift grace that left you scrambling to keep up. Exiting the club, you found a downpour of rain starting to pick up, and you ran past Tech to make it to the Marauder before you could get soaked.

~ * ~

You didn’t say anything to Tech as he stormed onto the ship and to the cockpit. He was muttering to himself. You rolled your eyes as you went to the compartments where you had medical supplies tucked away. “Tech, I need to see your hands so I know what to grab,” you called out to him. There was no response, just his mutterings echoing in the ship. The rain suppressed most of it, hollow shots against the metal and glass, but you could hear undertones. He didn’t want to speak to you for 4 days? Fine. But Hunter ordered you to help his hand. Your jaw set, you grabbed a basic, variety kit and went to the cockpit. “Tech, I know you heard me.”

He was grumbling to himself, and you saw he had been taking his armor off piece by piece. His complete right arm and chest piece were removed and laying in a messy heap on the floor, and he was just dropping his left arm pieces when you walked in. Your lip curled at being ignored, and your voice raised just a little as you, if you were being honest with yourself, shouted, “Tech!”

“Where do you get off fucking around like that?!” he demanded, whirling to face you. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his face was contorted in anger. His teeth were bared. He stood, lower half armoured and upper half in his tight, body-fitting blacks. He was slender, but that didn’t mean his muscles were not there and not defined. They were in fact very much there and very much defined. You always forgot, especially paired with his height, just how scary Tech really could be sometimes.

“What are you talking about? Give me your hand,” you snapped at him, hand outstretched for his. You leaned onto one hip impatiently, and you were even tempted to tap your foot. You decided it best to not push your luck though.

“I didn’t care if you wanted to spend the rest of your time not talking to me. I could’ve lived with that. And when you clearly wanted to find someone to fuck tonight? Whatever! I could look the other way. But Crosshair?! Of all of the clones in the galaxy, you had to choose him?”

Tech’s explosion at you was loud, startling, and a little more than emotional. His voice was lower than normal, a hiss, and wavering with a suppressed rage that he was fighting so hard to control. His eyes burned with a fury you hadn’t seen in him before, hadn’t even thought he was capable of. He seemed so in control, so factual, and the emotional explosion at you was… well, you supposed it was expected. Still, a shock nonetheless. What shocked you more was the anger that bubbled in your own chest, and you found yourself shouting back before you knew what was happening.

“Me?! You’re the one who won’t speak to me! I’ve tried so many times, and you just ignored me. Not to mention the fact you can’t even look me in the eye! What else was I supposed to do, Tech? Sit there and drink as I watch you take some random girl away for the night?” Your voice cracked. You touched your face in surprise, finding tears on your cheeks that you didn’t know you were crying.

Tech reached out to wipe them away, but you flinched away from his touch. Your chest was burning. “I’m sorry I kissed you, Tech. I clearly misread the situation. And I’m sorry. But you can’t expect me to sit by and watch as you parade your next fuck in front of me like I’m just one of the guys.” Your voice was weak. You were weak. Your heart ached at the thought of him spending the night with someone else. You wanted to throw up, in honesty. Yet nothing made you feel worse than the look on Tech’s face.

He looked sad. You made him sad. His eyebrows knit together as his lips tugged down into a frown. He exhaled slowly through his nose, and this time you didn’t fight him when he reached out for you again. He pulled you into a warm embrace, and you didn’t realise you were cold until then. You shivered at his touch. He stroked your arms, your back, your sides. He slowly rubbed warmth back into your upper body, wordlessly, and you two stood and listened to the rain.

How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Years? It didn’t matter because time meant nothing while you were in his arms. The only thing on your mind was Tech. The way his hands felt on your skin. The warmth his body seemed to always radiate. His scent that seemed to flow through your mind like nothing else could. You wanted to savour the moment, live in that embrace, but you had a job to do.

“Give me your hand, Tech,” you whispered as you stepped away from him. He sat in his pilot’s chair and complied, offering you his hand. You sat in Echo’s co-pilot seat and opened up your kit, setting to work on the small and shallow cuts on his skin. You kept your eyes trained on your work; he kept his eyes on you.

“I wasn’t ignoring you.”

Your lips pursed at his words.

“I’m serious. I wasn’t.”

You kept dabbing at the wounds with bacta, and you only stopped when he closed his hand around yours, the other one moving to tilt your chin up so you looked him in the eye. You saw truth in those caramel eyes.

“I looked at you a lot, mesh’la. But how was I supposed to meet your gaze after I couldn’t even bring myself to kiss you back?” A red blush came to his cheeks as he chuckled lightly to himself. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was embarrassed.” The confession shot through you like lightning, and you looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I was embarrassed that the girl I liked finally kissed me, and I… didn’t know what to do.”

“Tech,” you started with a laugh, and he looked flustered. You couldn’t stop your laugh, and he grew more and more disgruntled with every passing second.

“I’m being serious,” he muttered.

“I know, I know,” you said, your laugh breaking away. You shook your head and grabbed his face in your hands. “I’m going to kiss you now,” you warned him. He rolled his eyes at that, but you saw the tips of his ears turn pink. Your burning chest was replaced with helium, and you kissed Tech.

This time, he melted into your kiss. His lips softened against yours, and he even moved to get a better seal on the kiss. His hands moved to your body, one on your waist and one on the back of your head. He was gentle at first, but then his neediness took over. He pulled you to him, and you complied because… well, you wanted to.

You straddled him in the pilot seat, and his fingers tangled with your hair as he probed your lips with his tongue. The moment your mouth opened for it, a wave of hunger struck him; he kissed you like it was the only thing he needed to live. Your mind was turning to mush at the tip of his tongue, but your senses were starting to get overloaded as one hand massaged your scalp and the other pressed its fingertips harshly into your lower back. Your hips rolled to grind against him, and as your clit definitely got the pressure it needed against the codpiece of his armour. Your gasp was light, breaking away from the kiss, and he took advantage of the moment to set his lips to your neck.

“Tech,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat. He ignored you, and you didn’t even mind this time; his tongue was working magic against your skin, and his bites alternated between hurting and teasing. You couldn’t stop the moans that he drew from you, and you didn’t want to.

“Tech, seriously,” you gasped as his hands found your breasts, fingers moving with a deadly accuracy to your nipples. He pinched them as he pulled away from your neck, looking down at your tits. You yanked off your shirt without hesitation, and his nimble fingers made your bra disappear like a magic trick. His mouth was on your nipples, and you couldn’t think for a moment. It took a lifetime, but you remembered how to breathe when you gasped at his not-so-playful bite on your left breast.

“Tech,” you whined, finally pushing away from him as his hands dipped into the waistband of your pants.

“I’m sorry. Am I going too fast?” he asked, snapping out of his daze. The concern in his eyes told you he was lost in the moment, and the glaze on his eyes paired with the dilation of his pupils made you feel like a drug; he was addicted to your taste.

“Take ‘em off,” you ordered, pointing to his bottom half. He looked down as if noticing them for the first time before jumping to his feet and following your direction. His hands were shaking, and he had to take in a deep breath in order to unclasp the pieces. You had to order him to take his clothes off, too, and he followed those orders with enthusiasm as you wiggled your way out of your pants and panties.

There you both stood, naked, eyes leaving a burning trail as you looked at one another. He was already hard, and you wanted to taste him. Before you could ask, your eyes met his, and you saw an intensity there that you’d never seen before. He was usually very well composed, this Tech, but he was unhinged now.

“On your knees,” he said. It wasn’t particularly demanding; it was a fact. You were going to get on your knees. And you did. His fingers tangled into your hair again as you wrapped an arm around his thigh and pulled him closer. You first ran the flat of your tongue along the underside of his cock, teasing his head with the tip of your tongue when you finally reached the end. He had been leaking precum, and it may have become your favourite flavour in this world. Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, you peeked up at the clone with what you hoped was as innocent a look as you could muster. You wanted him to be proud of your efforts. He was. He told you so with a hiss when you took his head into your mouth.

“That’s it, mesh’la. What a good girl,” he hissed as he sunk into your mouth. You took as much of him as you could before your throat ached. You weren’t used to deep-throating, never really having to do it before, and it pained you that there was still a couple inches left for him to go. You slowly bobbed your head on his cock, your tongue wiggling its way on his underside, as you tried to take a little more with each thrust. “Relax, cyar’ika. It’ll go easier if you relax.” His words were gentle, tender, and a stark contrast to the harsh grip of your hair as he forced you deeper on his cock. Tears stung your eyes, but you felt his hips at your lips and a small victory fanfare sounded in the form of his groan.

“Stars, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed. With the knowledge that you could get him all the way down your throat, you went back to moving your mouth along his cock, a hand gripping it at the base to stop him from bruising your throat. The combination of hand gripping his cock as he fucked your face must’ve been a little too much from him because, after only a few short minutes, he pulled out of your mouth with a gasp. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was forcing his orgasm away, stopping just before it happened. You watched him fall back into his seat.

“Come here,” he said, holding a hand out to you. You took it, and he pulled you into his lap once more, this time sans armour. He claimed your lips again, and you loved the way he nibbled along your lower lip. Your hips ground against him, but this time, your core was pressed against hard, hot flesh. His cock was pinned between the two of you, and your slit was rubbing against it with its own hungry fervor. Every now and again, the head of his cock hit your clit, and you cried out with the sensation.

“Are you ready?” he gasped in your ear, and you could only nod frantically at him. He wrapped an arm around your waist to raise you a little, positioning his cock at your entrance, and you very slowly eased your way onto him. Every inch intensified your moan, and by the time you managed to fit all of him inside of you, you were pretty sure he had split you in half.

“Fuck, Tech, where do you even hide this in your pants?” you demanded. He laughed, a vibration that also shook your body, and you cut off his noises with a harsh kiss. You moved your hips against him, finding it difficult to pace yourself when you felt like he was filling every single part of you. Thankfully, he didn’t want you to pace yourself.

“You’re going to cum on my cock, mesh’la. You’re going to ride me until you’re screaming,” he ordered. And how could you say no? It wasn’t going to be difficult; being on top in this way always got you off the fastest. It helped that you had never felt more filled in your life, and that Tech rubbed your aching clit with an almost clinical precision. There was no doubt in your mind he had studied how to best do it. Your cries echoed off the walls of the ship, and the rain drummed down above you. The sound of your wet pussy and skin slapping together filled the cockpit.

As your head fell back in your pleasure, you had to interlace your fingers behind his neck in order to keep yourself from falling backwards. Tech wouldn’t have let that happen, since he had his arms around you and mouth firmly on your neck.

“T-Tech,” you managed to gasp, though words were getting hard to recall. He could feel you reaching your peak.

“Cum for me, cyare. I want to feel you cum,” he whispered harshly, his breath hot on your chin, and he had his gaze focused on your face. He wanted to see what you looked like. Your eyes were closed, your mouth dropped open, and your cheeks raised as you screamed out with your orgasm, which sent shivers through your body as your pussy clenched around his cock. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, and you certainly couldn’t stop shaking around him. Your eyes opened, and you found your gaze meeting Tech’s immediately. His goggles were only slightly fogged up, and you smiled at him. He smiled back. Your chest heaved with your pants, and he looked at that, too.

“My turn,” he said simply and stood up without pulling out of you. Your eyes widened in alarm, but he picked you up with ease. He was stronger than he looked. He set your bare ass down on the console in front of him and took charge. You lay back, buttons and knobs digging into your skin, but you didn’t mind. They only added to the pleasure you were feeling. Your pussy was still twitching from your orgasm as he started to fuck you, and your clit perked back to attention as it received the touch it needed when his hips slammed against yours. Your fingernails dug into his strong back, and he had to steady his hands on the edge of the console as he used all his energy to thrust into you with the perfect mixture of speed and harshness.

“Adjust to your right just a smidge.” His voice was strained, and you could see the sweat breaking out on his forehead. You did as told and were pleasantly surprised when he somehow calculated the exact position needed for him to stroke against the nerves in your pussy that made your toes curl.

“Oh, fuck me, Tech!” You cried out as your back arched, and you were spiralling toward your second orgasm in the span of minutes. Your fingernails were surely leaving streaks of red down his back, but neither of you cared in the moment. His grunts of exertion were growing louder, wilder, and he warned you.

“Fuck. Fuck, mesh’la I’m so close,” he cried out.

“Cum inside me, Tech. Please cum inside me,” you begged, your mind flaring with a bright white light as you came on his cock with a feral cry for a second time.

Tech was pushed over the edge with your plea, and he slammed into you and held himself there as he shot his load deep inside of you. You could feel him twitching in there, and it wasn’t until he pulled out that you could feel his cum slipping out of your entrance. He pressed his forehead to yours, both of you panting before breaking into laughter. He kissed you gently, tenderly, and whispered sweet words to you about how good you felt, how pretty you were, how sweet, how lovely, how absolutely wonderful.

“Fucking hell, Tech, we touch those buttons!”

You both startled up from the console, your arms immediately going to cross over your chest, as you both saw Crosshair glaring from the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” Tech demanded, quickly shielding your body from his view.

“Hunter was worried since you were taking a long time just to clean your hand up. Guess he didn’t think you’d actually make up this quickly, assumed you were fighting. Sent me to check in on you but clearly you two are doing fine,” Crosshair explained with that smug smirk of his.

“Tell him we are fine, and we will not be joining you for the rest of the evening,” Tech said, waving him to leave quickly. Crosshair looked over his brother’s shoulder and stared into your eyes.

“You owe me big time,” he said before sticking a toothpick in his mouth and turning to walk away at an infuriatingly slow pace.

Tech whirled to look at you in exasperation. “Seriously. That guy? Of all of them?” he asked. You laughed at his tone and realised you forgot to tell him.

“He was just doing it to make you jealous, Tech. Figured it would be the best way to get us together,” you explained. Tech was disgruntled, mumbling to himself as he kissed you again. He pulled you off of the console and led you to his bunk.

“He was right,” he muttered as you slipped beneath his blanket and made room for him to join you. You laughed a little and ran a fingertip over his cheek as he settled in beside you.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you teased.

“And you’re cute when you orgasm,” he responded quickly, making you laugh. He was elated to hear your laugh. It was a nice laugh, and he wanted nothing more than to surround himself with it. As he pulled you into his arms, lips melting against yours, Tech knew that no moment could ever be as sweet as when he got to hold you like this.

“Don’t forget to clean the console,” Crosshair’s voice crackled from the comm hanging beside Tech’s bunk.

“Wait, what did you do to the console?” Echo’s alarmed voice came next.

“Naughty things,” Crosshair’s teasing sneer followed up.

“C’mon, Tech, we’ve all got to touch those buttons!” Wrecker complained.

You fell into a fit of giggles as Tech got into a swearing match with his brothers, comm quickly snatched as he reprimanded them for disturbing your peace. The moment was ruined.

“But,” you thought as you rested your head on his chest and listened to Tech tell all of his brothers exactly where they could shove their vibroblades, “he’s so cute when he’s defending me.”

Tech noticed you smiling up at him, and he smiled, despite the teasing words coming through the comm. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you closed your eyes to cherish the moment.

#galactic daydreams #ao3fic #jp oakbrook #archive of our own #fanfic #star wars #the clones #bad batch #clone force 99 #tech #oneshot #female reader #the clone wars #smut #medic reader #crosshair

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jpoakbrook · 2 years

Text

FOR FOX SAKE

one shot: part of a series called "Madam To'Low's House" where the reader is a worker at a galactic brothel whose specialty is listening to her client's problems. Stories are out of order and consequential.

NSFW: Smutty as FUCK, boiiiii.

Summary: you are a worker at a galactic brothel named "madam to'low's house". Commander Fox comes to take a senator out of your arms, but she blackmails him to replace her instead. Fox finally gets to sleep, and you finally get to fuck him.

“Head’s up. Disgruntled visitors.”

The message beeped on your comm, and you checked it with tired eyes. Just as you were about to fall asleep, too.

“What is it?” Her words were soft and slightly slurred. She had a long week at the Senate, and she was looking forward to a weekend in your arms. Her lips pressed against your right shoulder, and she slipped her slender, blue arms around your waist. You smile and turn to her, kissing the Chiss woman gently.

“I have to check in on my people. Will you keep the bed warm for me?” you ask her.

“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” she asked with a small pout on her swollen lips.

“I won’t be long, love,” you whisper to her, leaving her with another kiss. You almost groan as you slip out of the bed and away from her warmth and comfort. You slip a blue robe over your nude form, and it covers you down to your knees. It was a comfortable robe, and your feet slip into matching slippers. Slipping your comm bracer on your left wrist, you make your way out of your room. Voices echoing from the bar below hit you the moment the door opened, and you quickly closed it to shield away the Senator from the ruckus.

You made your way down the 2nd floor hallway that lined the 1st floor’s main area. It allowed you to look over the 1st floor and take note of the people there before you descended the stairs. Madam To’low was standing behind her bar, cleaning glasses before bed, and Garnett stood off to her right side. The Bothan male had been the one to message you, and the House’s bodyguard took note of your presence as you descended.

A small group of clones in their white and red armour were clumped in front of the bar. House workers without companions were slowly crawling into the area, and it seemed that 4 of the 5 clones were interested in the inhabitants. The other clone was focused on Madam To’low, and you recognised the armour with a start. He was so preoccupied with demanding answers from To’low that he didn’t even notice you slipping around the clones. The others made way for you, and you took their small step away from their Commander as an opportunity to motion some workers forward. They flooded the guards, pulling them away for conversation and admirations.

“Now, what’s a group of Corrie Guards doing so far away from home?” you ask as you take a seat at the bar. The commander looked down at you, his face hidden by his helmet, but you’d spent enough time with clones to know a glare through a visor when you felt one.

“Where is she?” he asked simply. You laugh and lean back as Madam To’low pours you a drink. You regard the clone with humour.

“C’mon, Fox! It’s our first time meeting in person. Can’t you pretend to be a little excited about that?” you tease him. The commander stands with impeccable posture and without a word. You simply stare back, a smile on your lips. There’s nothing but silence between the two of you. Madam To’low passes you a drink, which you take and sip without looking away from Fox’s visor. The minute that passes is heavy with the silence, and neither To’low nor Garnett are willing to interrupt it. Clones were usually your business.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Fox eventually mutters when he realises that you’re just as stubborn as he is. He’s willing to stare you down all night without a word, but you’ve got nowhere to be and he’s the one on a time crunch.

“Nice to finally meet you as well!” you chirp brightly, breaking the eye contact to grin at To’low and Garnett. Neither say anything, but there’s a ghost of a smile on To’low’s lips that you know all too well. She always enjoyed watching you work. It was fun for her.

“Do you know where Senator Morlow is?” he asked politely.

“I do,” you respond, sipping your drink and not taking your eyes away from Garnett. He is messaging the Senator as you spoke, using his commands to turn on the lights in your room while sending other workers to check in on her.

“...Are you going to tell me?” Fox asked, annoyance hitting the tone of his voice.

“Depends,” you respond and look at him from the corner of your eyes. “Are you going to spend the night with me?” You see the smallest flinch of his helmet at your question, and there’s uproarious laughter from the other guards behind you as they chat with workers. They already had their helmets off, and one of them had taken off his chest plate to strap onto a tiny twi’lek man who was swimming in the armour.

“See, I was promised a warm body in my bed for the whole night, Commander. And, simply, I get what I am owed,” you explained.

“Thire--” Fox started to call out, but you reached out and lay a hand on his chest.

“No, Commander, I don’t think so. While I’m sure the others would do a fine job, I don’t want them. I want you.”

He is staring at you again, and you doubled down.

“See, I happen to know that Senator Marlow has a meeting in the morning that she absolutely cannot miss. And I also happen to know that due to me, she’s been late to a few of these already this sun cycle. And, well, it’s looking bad on your part.” You suck air through your teeth with a little grimace, shrugging at the clone. “If you want her to go back on time, tonight even, then someone’s going to have to replace her spot. On any given night, I’d be fine with a little Thire and Thorn sandwich, but tonight?” You shook your head and smiled at him, sweetness dripping from the action though your eyes were hungry.

“This is blackmail,” Fox said.

“No, Commander. It’s a trade agreement. She doesn’t have information on you. Just wants a fair trade,” To’low said and set a drink down for him as well. He looked at it, at her, and back to you.

“Hey, I thought you said you weren’t going to take long,” Marlow said as she bounced down the stairs. She was fully dressed, and she had her long, white hair pulled up into that ponytail that drove you crazy. She came over, smiling at the guards and workers alike, greeting them as she passed by. She came up to you at the bar and gave you a sweet kiss.

“Just negotiating,” you respond with a smile, her taste lingering on your lips.

“Senator Marlow, we must be getting back to Coruscant,” Fox said, straightening up. You didn’t know the stiff board could do more, and it surprised you that he had been at least somewhat relaxed before that moment. Or, not really relaxed. More… exhausted.

“Oh, yes, I suppose I shouldn’t miss that meeting tomorrow,” Marlow whispered as she ran a hand through your hair. She hadn’t looked at Fox since she kissed you, instead pressing close to your body, stroking your face, running her fingers through your hair. You slip and arm around her slender waist, and you pull her closer as your smile melts from wolfish to sweet. She likes it sweet. Your touch, your whispers, your kisses; you always make sure it’s sweet as honey when she’s around because that’s exactly what she needs. She needs to be praised, to be relaxed, to feel loved. And you knew how to make her feel that way.

Fox, on the other hand, did not.

Or he did, and he simply didn’t care.

You were willing to bet on the latter.

“No, you cannot. The Senators will be furious if you miss yet another meeting,” he urged her. Marlow rolled her eyes, the spell you wove broken, as she glared at him.

“Then who is going to keep my sweetie warm tonight? It was supposed to be me, you know,” she pouted. You knew she was fully dressed because she was going back early. You knew Garnett told her all about your little offer to Fox. And you knew she was going to pounce on any opportunity to be free of the Commander for even just one night.

“Well, funny you bring that up,” To’low drawled, playing along. “There’s an offer on the table for Commander Fox. If he takes your place, she’ll let you leave early without charge.”

“Oh! Perfect! You’ll do that then. Right, Fox?” Marlow asked him brightly.

“I will do no such thing,” Fox hissed. A frown pulled down the Senator’s lips.

“Well, if you don’t… then I’ll have to be late to my meeting. And then I’ll have to explain to the others about how the Commander Marshall of the Coruscant guard let me slip through his fingers. Just like he has every time I missed a meeting. And… well, I don’t think they’ll like that too much.”

“That’s blackmail,” To’low explained to Fox before plopping a straw into his drink. He was furious.

“Oy, Commander! Look!” Hound called to him. Fox looked over and saw two workers on their knees, giggling as they decorated Grizzer with ribbons and puff balls. He stared for a moment.

“Of course, your men will be well taken care of,” you assure him with a smile.

“If they get to stay, I’ll even chip in for it, damn,” Marlow muttered with a laugh. She thought they all deserved a night off. Plus, it was more incentive for Fox to stay, and she really wanted him to leave her alone for even just a night.

There was long silence, and every time Marlow went to speak, you squeezed her arm a little. Fox drew a deep breath, and you smiled.

“You’ll go straight home and to your meeting on time?” he asked, looking at Marlow, who nodded emphatically.

“No delays! I’ll go now!” she chirped and gave you another sweet kiss before leaving, waving farewell to them all as she left.

“And then there were two,” you say and turn to him with a smile. He paused for a moment, tilted the head of his helmet back enough to slip the straw into his mouth, and he downed the drink without break. After he finished it, he fit the helmet back on properly, and nodded to Madam To’low.

“Thank you for the drink and the hospitality. You run a lovely establishment,” he complimented her. She smiled and nodded to him slowly. He turned to look at you, waiting. You finish your drink and take his hand, leading him up to your room as the Corrie Guards hollered from behind.

~ * ~

“Not what you were expecting, huh, Commander?” you ask as you brush past him and to your kitchenette. You put water on for tea, and you turn to him with a small smile, motioning to your seating area for him to claim one.

Your room was one of the more “dreary” looking rooms in the House. Your bed had washed out, horizontal, wooden slats for the head and foot boards, and it sat against the left wall. Neatly pressed and tucked in white and grey sheets adorned the top of it. There were 4 large, white sleeping pillows there, none decorative and two on each side. There was a nightstand on both sides of the bed, each hosting a lamp with grey shades. To the left of that, along the wall that the entrance door was on, was a grey sliding door closet. Between the closet and the door was a makeup station of white wood. It was usually neat and orderly, though a pair of cuffs and a tie littered the top of it today. The mirror was lined with bulbs, but it was turned off at the moment. There was an open area between the bed and the seating area, where you did your morning stretches. The seating area had 3 seats of choice: a long couch, a love seat, and an armchair. In between these was a coffee table. In the corner beside the long couch was a small, open kitchen, a door there leading to a private ‘fresher. Next to that door, along the right wall, was a fireplace, a TV hanging above it. The walls were a pleasant pale blue at the top that faded to a dark grey at the bottom. The fireplace was red brick. Your room was neat, orderly, and surprisingly cozy due to the candles that littered the furniture and the stringed lights that draped around the ceiling. There were string lights that draped down from the ceiling, looking like different lengths of lit rainfall.

“Offer you a beverage?” you ask him, making a mug of tea for him no matter what his response was. He chose the armchair, and you smiled at the tense man in his full armour. He shook his head to the question, but you made the tea anyway. It was your special sleep blend of Valerian root and Magnolia bark with just a pinch of dried lemon rind.

You set the mug on the table in front of him, the herbal mixture hidden within a wooden ball that was speckled with holes to allow the steeping without drinking leaves. He reached for the cup, but you lay a hand on his and shake your head.

“4 minutes, Commander,” you say with a smirk. He inhales deeply, slowly, and you motion to him. “Feel free to take off the bucket, Fox. You’re getting into bed with me, and I’ll be fucked if I let your dirty plastoid into my bed.” He stiffened at that.

“My armour is not dirty,” he snapped. Your giggle was enough for him to realise you were teasing him. He paused for a moment before reaching up and removing his helmet. Your eyes widened a little as you lay eyes on him for the first time. He looked just like his brothers, of course, but there were thin scars that littered his face but a thick one crossed over the bridge of his nose, from cheekbone to cheekbone. There were a couple of scars that cut through his left eyebrow as well, but what surprised you was his hair. You imagined he had a clean cut like Cody or a buzz like Rex. Maybe something short like Cross or even bald like Wreck. But his hair was longer. Not nearly as long as Hunter’s, but still long enough for his tresses to be curls. The sides of his hair were streaked with grey and white. There were dark, heavy bags underneath his eyes. He looked tired.

“That’s a start,” you say, sipping your tea and scalding your tongue. You bit back tears at the feeling, and he trained his gaze on you. He was amused.

“What happened to 4 minutes?” he asked.

“That’s if you want the best tasting tea. I just happen to be a gremlin and want my hot drink,” you muttered. He exhaled sharply, a little laugh, and looked around your room again. You didn’t say anything to the man. You didn’t want to push him. There were people who needed you to talk, to drag out their issues, and there were others who needed time and silence. He was the latter.

You sat in silence, and he adjusted a few times. After the 4th, you sighed softly and looked up at him.

“You can take the rest of the armour off, too, you know. It’s all coming off at some point.” He pursed his lips and stood up, slowly taking the pieces off. You loved this part. The clones who came into your room didn’t usually have armour on because, well, they didn’t really need armour in a place like this. But the ones who did always gave you a show. You loved seeing the pieces of plastoid slowly reveal the man beneath, and it helped that they all looked amazing in their blacks.

“Would you like help?” you offered, and Fox looked like he was going to tell you off for the offer. “We’re just going to be sleeping together, Fox. Might as well enjoy it. Just relax, let loose a little. No harm will come to you, I promise,” you added before he could. He took in a deep breath and nodded.

“I would appreciate the help.” You smiled at his tone and stepped around the coffee table. Your fingers worked at taking away the pieces and carefully laying them on the couch. You figured you should eventually invest in an armour mannequin for your guests, but that would be an issue for another time.

The first part of Fox that came to view was his shoulders. They were broad. All of the clones had broad shoulders, but it never failed to start your thirst. Then his chest. He wasn’t as thick as the boys in the 212th, but he certainly wasn’t what you would call slender. You supposed lean would be the most accurate way, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have thickness there. His abdomen revealed next, and he helped you with that part. He had taken off his arm plates while you worked on his chest, and you couldn’t help but track your eyes over the way his muscles bulged in his blacks. You thought hanging around the Senate building all day would keep him on the slimmer side, but he proved you wrong. Clearly Fox spent a lot of time in the gym.

Your hands stopped at the top of his codpiece, and you looked up at him through your lashes. He was watching you carefully. “I can stop and let you do the rest, if that would make you more comfortable,” you whispered. He considered it a moment before shaking his head and looking away with a small blush on his cheeks. You undid the belt and lowered down to a crouch to take away the piece. You didn’t even try not to stare at the natural bulge in his pants, and you definitely didn’t try to not lick your lips. His blush intensified as you finished taking off his leg bits, and he stepped out of his armoured boots.

“There,” you said with a grin, standing up again. “Isn’t that much more comfortable, commander?” you asked him. He nodded in confirmation and took his seat again. You moved back to your spot on the loveseat and leaned forward to take the tea ball out of his mug. As you stirred the small spot of honey into the drink, you were not lost on the fact Fox’s eyes wandered to the cleavage that appeared at the top of your robe as you leaned forward. You pretended not to notice.

Grabbing your own mug and sitting back in your seat, you motioned for him to drink. He picked it up, pursed his lips, and carefully blew the steam away from the liquid. Your eyes were trained on him. His first sip was ginger, but he was quickly draining the drink you knew was far too hot for him to be doing so.

Once again, silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable this time. Your eyes were already heavy; you had been just about asleep when he arrived. But you knew it would take anywhere between 15-20 minutes for the drowsiness from the drink to start working on the clone, if it did at all. There were some who resisted the natural drink better than others. You could only hope he was one of the ones more susceptible to the properties of the tea. You didn’t care much for the idea of sleeping next to a restless man all night.

“Are you always this kind to your guests?” Fox asked after a while of drinking tea in silence. You perked an eyebrow at him. “Do you always treat them to tea and sleep?” You laughed.

“Of course not. I offer whatever drink they like, or whatever drink I think they need. Most of my guests are here for an hour or so before they disappear back to their lives. Some don’t even have sexual contact with me. Most don’t sleep with me,” you explained. He looked confused by that, and you tilted your head. “You don’t know about my specialty, do you, commander?” He shook his head, and you explained it to him.

“Everyone at Madam To’low’s must have something that sets them apart from just any being who can take or give a fuck, right. Hammond and Kiata are a couple of our most exclusive and highly requested workers. Hammond specialises in being a switch roleplayer, depending on if you want to be dominated by a dangerous Trandoshan or dominate one yourself. He loves playing the part of a deadly and feral Trandoshan. Kiata, meanwhile, is a dominatrix to boot.”

You paused a moment to sip your tea, letting him mull over this information. “We have plenty of submissives, plenty of BDSM workers, and plenty of people who are there to fulfill a species kink. But me? I am the only one whose specialty isn’t sexual in nature. You see,” you paused again for dramatic effect, “I’m a really good listener.”

The silence was palpable, and Fox broke into laughter at that. You smiled and sipped your tea, but you expected nothing less than his reaction.

“You’re serious?” he asked as the joyous noise trailed off. You nodded.

“Dead serious. People often come to me just to chat, to vent, maybe to fuck it out. But, really, there are plenty of people who just… come here with the expectation that they need a good orgasm when all they really need is an encouraging word or two.”

He was staring at you in silence. You were fine with that. You finished your drink and stood up with a small sigh of content. “Would you like another one?” you asked him, and he nodded politely.

“Thank you.”

You smiled at that and set to work making him another cup, humming a song softly as you worked.

“So… you’re really okay with just listening to people’s problems all day?” he asked you.

“Yes. It’s my favourite part of the job. The sex is nice, but seeing the emotional release they get is just as good,” you said. Not to mention you didn’t always get your own release, so it was nice when all they wanted was a chat. You could handle that just fine.

The silence lasted the 4 minutes it took for the tea to steep, and you brought the mug over to the commander. “Did you want to stay sitting for a bit? Otherwise, I’m exhausted, and I’m definitely ready to lay down,” you said with a yawn rubbing your eyes. He looked over at the bed, and you could see his eyes softening. He looked so on guard but so tired.

“Fox,” you whispered and crouched beside his knees. He looked at you with raised eyebrows, and you gave him a smile as gentle as your voice. “You’ve got the night off of work, cyare. Just relax. Let yourself go. Just for tonight. And you can go back to your usual stress in the morning,” you said. He was considering it. You could see it in his eyes. He so desperately just wanted to fucking sleep, but he just couldn’t bring himself to relax.

“How about… you get out of those clothes. Keep your briefs on. And I’ll give you a nice massage to help you relax,” you offered. He took in a deep breath, eyes closing, and he nodded.

“That sounds… great,” he admitted. You smiled and stood up, motioning to the bed. You carried his mug over to the side table there as he slowly took off his shirt. His tan body was littered with thick scars, and you felt your mouth water at the sharp muscles that came into view. He stepped out of his pants, and you very blatantly stared at the black boxer-briefs that barely concealed his crotch from you. He allowed himself a little smirk, an exhale of a laugh, and moved to your bed. Rolling onto the bed, he lay face down with his arms tucked underneath his pillow, the softness of which he buried his face into. He peeked at you underneath his arm.

You smirked and went to join him, letting the robe fall from your shoulders as you did. His eyes widened, and he raised up to look at you. You wore a tank top and a pair of comfy panties. But the reveal of your bare shoulders, the curve of your ass, the sway of your hips, and the sight of your bare legs was enough to wake him up a little. You lay a gentle hand on his back and rose onto the bed to straddle his hips. He lay down with your push, and you smiled.

“Not like that, Fox, c’mon, man. You’re still too tense,” you spoke softly as you ran your hands up his arms. Your fingertips traced over the mounds of muscle, the ridges of scars, and you gently interlaced your fingers with his as you guided his arms down to his sides. He resisted only slightly. “There we go,” you praised him with a gentle stroke of your fingers through his hair. He seemed to melt at your touch, and you smiled as you tangled your fingers into his curls and admired the softness you found there.

Fox’s eyes closed when your hands found their home on his broad shoulders. His muscles were tight, tense, but he himself was putty beneath your touch. A strong pressured stroke of your fingers from his neck to shoulders drew a small moan from his lips, and you smiled in victory. After that, it was just a matter of doing what you did best: help your client relax. The knots beside his shoulder blade were tight, massive, and plenty. The tension on his neck was tight enough to snap a bone. The way he had his arms constantly flexed made you wonder if he just gained his muscle from pure tension. By the time you got him relaxed, his breath was heavy, and there was movement behind his eyelids.

Congratulating yourself on a job well done, you got off of him as gently as you could, reaching for your comm on your nightstand to flick off the lights. The room was dimly lit from the glowing embers in the fireplace and the stringed lights dangling from your ceiling. No sooner had you put it down than the commander wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him.

He had his face tucked into that sweet spot on your neck where the shoulder connected. He had one arm tucked beneath the pillow and his head, the other arm firmly wrapped around you as he pressed the entire front of his body against the back of yours. You were burning at every point of contact, and you squirmed just a little bit.

“Thank you, mesh’la,” he murmured into your neck, mostly asleep. You smiled and squeezed his forearm gently as you settled into his embrace, scared to respond and wake him up. It wasn’t long before the rise and fall of his chest pressing against your back, his heavy breath on your neck, and his enveloping warmth lulled you into a deep sleep.

~ * ~

You weren’t sure what woke you up. Your eyes were bleary, your head muddled, and you weren’t even sure where you were, much less what time it was. The sleep had been so deep that everything felt hazy and light. This was certainly a dream. When you stirred in his arms, Fox rose onto an elbow and crashed his lips against yours. The sleepy kiss was sloppy, but the need and intent was genuine. You kissed him back, your tongue immediately finding his.

What a pleasant dream.

The arm he had wrapped around your body was turning you now, and you found yourself on your back as he slipped his body between your legs. He was rock hard for you, and you absolutely throbbed at the friction. Grinding gently against your core, Fox kissed you as sloppily as your head felt. It felt like you were drifting in and out of sleep the whole time, and that only heightened the realness of his cock against your pussy. You moaned when he dipped his hips just right and caught your clit on his grind.

Fox’s lips moved to your neck, and he breathed your scent in deeply. It was comforting, being drowned in the scent that he fell asleep to, and he complimented your aroma with a harsh bite on your neck. You gasped, crying out, as you ground against him harder. He continued his rampage on the left side of your neck, easing the bites with broad licks. You were squirming.

His hands tugged your tank top straps off your shoulders, pulling the top down to allow him access to your breasts. You clung to his hair for dear life as his lips found one of your nipples. He alternated between the two, his face barely lifting off of your chest to do so, and he was scratching your gentle skin with the roughness of his stubble. You didn’t mind. It felt nice.

One of his hands made their way down your abdomen, slipping underneath your panties without ceremony, and he found how you were already dripping wet for him. He didn’t mess around, simply opting to slip two fingers into you immediately. And so you cried out for him, your back arching, as he teased your aching nipples with his mouth and your aching pussy with his fingers.

“Please, cyare, I need you,” you gasped in the night, the first words spoken since you woke up. They sounded far away, so distant, and your head still felt both full of lead and helium as you moved around. His smile was soft as he moved up to kiss you again, and his hands were sluggish as he made quick work of your panties and his underwear. There were no frills, no extra movements, as he settled back on top of you. Just a simple guide and a push of his hips, and he sunk into your heat with ease.

You moaned at the way he filled you, the way your legs were tingling with exhaustion, the way your skin was so sensitive especially to his touch. He groaned low and husky in your ear as he bottomed out, savouring the way you pulsed and clenched around the sudden invasion. And then he started to move.

His hips moved at a slow and steady pace. So steady that you were nearly in tears begging him to change it up. But he just gave you a lopsided smirk paired with half-closed eyes and pressed his forehead to yours. “You’ll just have to be patient, cyar’ika,” he whispered before claiming your lips with his once more. You would’ve pouted if your lips weren’t busy.

He didn’t keep you waiting for long. Maybe it was because you both were on the cusp of passing out at any moment. Maybe it was because you adored the crushing weight of the commander on you. Maybe it was because your whimpers were music to his ears. In any case, he did speed up after you asked. You could feel every stroke like it was in slow motion, every pull out and every single inch of his thrust back in. The sensation paired with your state of consciousness had his name fumbling on your lips in no time. Your fingers dug into his back, and you came around his cock in gentle waves that rippled down your limbs and to the tips of your toes. You heard his grunts a distance away, and you could feel him fill you to the brim with his hot seed, but you were already falling back asleep.

The last thing you remembered was his sweet kiss and the way he pulled you to his chest again.

~ * ~

You woke slowly, your alarm gentle and early in the morning. It was meant to get Morlow out of bed and into her ship before she was late to her meeting. You were fumbling to find the comm to shut it off, and Fox reached over you to slam his hand down on the object, shutting the noise off abruptly. You looked at him with wide eyes and a growing smile.

“Good morning, commander! How did you sleep?” you chirped softly. He smirked and kissed you deeply, his lips much more precise than the night before and his tongue on a mission. You figured that meant pretty well, but you didn’t have to ask him. He already had you back in his arms, one arm scooping you up so your back was off of the bed. Your hands clasped behind his neck as you clung to him.

“Last night was… fantastic. But I need more,” he murmured against your lips. You smiled and nodded.

“Then take it.”

The challenge was enough for him, and he had you flipped over, face pressed into your pillow, before you could react. One hand rested between your shoulder blades to keep you pressed against the bed, and the other was already between your pussy lips, gently stroking and circling the little bundle of nerves he found there. You were already twitching beneath his touch, breath hard against your linens.

“Fox,” you whispered with a look over your shoulder, and he smiled.

“Yes, mesh’la?” he asked with a tease.

“I need you to fuck me hard like you didn’t last night,” you ordered.

“As you wish, mesh’la,” he responded and stroked his cock a couple times as he lined up to your entrance. You weren’t as wet as when he had teased you, but you didn’t care. You needed to feel him inside of you again, and he did not disappoint. He pressed forward until his hips touched your ass, and you were both hissing at the feeling.

Your pussy forced itself to lube around him, but you were enjoying the feeling of how tight you were around his cock this early in the morning. He was trying not to shoot already, wondering how the fuck you managed to suck him in like this. The fingers on your back gripped your skin as well as they could, slipping and trying to find purchase on your muscles, while his other hand held your hip. He was thrusting against you while also using his hand to bounce you on his cock.

You decided you were fine being used by this man.

“Fuck, baby, right there,” you whined as your felt the head of his cock butting against your cervix. Every strike sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, and you felt that familiar ache building up behind your clit. He moved both hands to your hips now, his grunts of effort turning into open groans of pleasure as he fucked you hard. He moved faster, wilder, more erratic and frantic. He was chasing a high that he hadn’t felt in a while.

“Mesh’la,” he warned. “I’m gonna…” he couldn’t finish his sentence, panting as it broke away. You were crying out, head thrown back with an open mouth.

“Cum inside me, cyare, please! Fill me up!” you begged him, your clit throbbing at the prospect of another filling from Fox. His growls were feral, and he came with a few hard thrusts, slamming his hips into yours as he held you on his cock. You broke; your orgasm shattered and rolled as you felt a heat fill you from the inside for the 2nd time in the span of hours.

Fox was trying to catch his breath, and he collapsed on top of you. You panted, smiling, and slipped your hands into his once more as you lay together in silence. Eventually, after his cock softened and slipped out of you, you rushed to the bathroom to clean up. You stopped to look in the mirror, admiring the way his cum seeped out of your pussy and down your inner thigh.

Clean up was fast and easy, and you made your way back to the room where Fox was still laying in bed. He lay on his back, an arm tucked beneath his head with his other hand on his chest. You cuddled up to his side, partially laying on him, and pressed your ear to his chest above his heart. The noise was steady, rhythmic, and you were comforted by the sound. It was slowing, and you noticed his breath was deepening once more. When you looked up at him, his eyes were closed. He looked so at peace, you didn’t want to bother him… but you had to.

“Cyare,” you whispered. He peeked open a lazy eye to look at you, a small smile pulling on his lips. “You can go home now, you know. The night is over.” He exhaled a laugh and leaned forward to kiss you gently before resuming the position. This time, the hand that didn’t prop him up was stroking up and down your back.

“I slept better last night than I have in years,” he admitted to you with his eyes closed. “The massage was wonderful, but I think I just felt… safe. And comforted. Stress-free.” You nodded as you listened to him. “It’ll go back to normal when I get back to Coruscant… but I think I’ll actually start taking regular leaves from work. Maybe a weekend a month,” he said with a shrug before peeking an eye open to look at you. “That is, if you don’t mind a standing appointment for a massage and sleep.”

You beamed at the commander.

“There is nothing I’d love more,” you chirped. He smiled and closed his eyes again, stroking your back gently.

“You know… Morlow was technically supposed to keep you company all weekend,” he said slowly. “So if I really wanted to uphold my end of the deal, I’d have to provide you a sleeping partner tonight as well.”

You grinned wickedly at that and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay with me again, huh, commander? Wouldn’t want to be blackmailed and whatnot.”

“No, we certainly wouldn’t want that. Oh well. Guess I can manage that,” he muttered with a hefty sigh before breaking into a grin and kissing you gently. You were excited about your new sleeping partner, and he was more than willing to show you how excited he was about it, too.

#madam to'low's house #galactic daydreams #ao3fic #jp oakbrook #archive of our own #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #the clones #commander fox #cc 1010 #smut #sleepy #sleepy sex #sleepy kisses #fox finally gets to sleep #let this poor man sleep

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jpoakbrook · 2 years

Text

WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE THE BALCONY

one shot: a prompt challenge in which the reader sticks with Crosshair when his brothers leave him on Kamino. This one hurt my feelings a whole lot because I wanted it to. I love this man too dang much. Meant to be partnered with the song "Meteor Showers" by Andy Kong.

NSFW: smutty as heck, but very fluffy and very angsty. Like, angsty as HECK.

summary: You were just a weapon's technician that had a secret adoration for a certain snarky sniper. But when Clone Force 99 leave their brother behind, you're the only one that he can turn to.

Maybe it was because he's always liked you a little more than he cared to admit, or maybe it was out of convenience... Either way, Crosshair finds himself actually allowing his feelings to shine through whenever he's with you.

The problem being you are sick of this new Empire, and he's just been promoted to Commander.

You knew it was going to be a great day whenever you saw your favourite dynamic duo sauntering up to your desk. Both of them towered above the other clones, and they looked nothing like their genetic brothers. The taller of the two was massive in every sense. His shoulders were broad, his chest a barrel, and his laugh was booming. He had a thick web of scarring that covered most of the left side of his head. He always wore a grin that lit up the room. The other one? A bit gloomier.

The other one had a perpetual scowl of disappointment and disgruntlement, usually accompanied with a toothpick perched in the corner of his lips. His eyebrows were often furrowed as he scrutinized the world around him, a tattoo circled around and crossed through his right eye. He was lean with long legs and long fingers. And your heart seemed to malfunction only when he was around.

You remembered the first time you had met the two; they were regulars at your workstation, and you had been warned of their frequent visits. Wrecker had been so friendly and kind, and Crosshair had been… There. He was certainly there, and he made his presence clear. Where Wrecker loomed with his imposing figure, Crosshair made up for it with his boundless ego and confidence.

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite little weapons master! How ya doing, kid?” Wrecker boomed as the two walked up this time. It had been about a month since they last graced you with a visit, and the familiar voice brought an immediate grin to your face. You set your data pad down on the desk and turned to face them as they approached. Where they wore their armour as normal, you were in your standard weapons-handler uniform of dark grey coveralls with the white insignia of the Republic on your left chest. Today, your coveralls were unzipped a bit to show your black t-shirt beneath and your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows. Your hair was covered by a dark blue hat with a pink womp rat silhouette on the front of it, a hat for your favourite band “The Spineless Womp”.

“Wrecker! Hello, Crosshair,” You greeted them both, a curt nod to the latter instead of your fist bump with the former. Crosshair simply nodded back, but his scowl was nowhere to be seen. He had his reservations about you when you had met, but your enthusiasm paired with an expertise of weapons slowly weathered down his cold shell over the last year or so.

“Got any new explosives for me? Hunter said he heard rumours of a new bomb,” Wrecker said with the slightest lowering of his voice. It wasn’t enough, however, and you saw some of the others working in the warehouse give you weary and wary looks; Explosives and Wrecker were enough to keep everyone rattled for a few days. There was still a sizable crater in one of the training grounds from when he had gotten a little too happy about a new delay-fuse you had been developing.

“I do, actually! But it’s not my creation. Olin Jot said she’d be more than willing to show you what she’s been working on! Mine isn’t ready yet, and she seemed… excited to take you out to the explosive fields,” you said with raised eyebrows at Wrecker. You saw a spot of pink grow on both of his cheeks.

“Olin said that, huh?” He asked, his voice soft and sweet. You nodded, and he beamed. “Guess it would be rude of me to not go with her, huh?” You nodded again. “Right, well, don’t have too much fun with this one. He’s crabby,” Wrecker said with a jerk of his thumb at Crosshair, who did scowl now, but only at his brother. Wrecker gave you a strong clap on the shoulder, which knocked the air right out of your chest, and took off to find Olin.

“Meanwhile, Crosshair, I have been working on something for you,” you said and turned to your datapad. His arms folded across his chest as he leaned his weight onto one leg. You stopped yourself from staring, as you often did when he was around, and quickly swiped your finger across the screen a few times. “You were complaining about having to manually figure wind and elevation and the likes when you use your grappling hook,” you muttered as you navigated the pages and brought up schematics for a new scope. “So I have been working with the engineers to create one that can determine such factors using electromagnetic detections.”

Crosshair took the datapad you offered him, and he looked at the schematics you had drawn during a restless night. His lips pursed, but there was a look of warmth on his face that he only got whenever you were impressive in his eyes; you got that look relatively often.

“This could be a very good add-on. Have you tested it out?” He drawled, his voice a hiss. You were put off by his tone and drawl the first few times you had interacted with him, but the sound was enough to make your breath catch now.

“No, but I received the proto-type yesterday. I was going to try and find a volunteer to try it out. I heard the 51st was-” you started, and he cut you off with a sharp scoff.

“You think a reg would be able to test this out properly? You’d be better off asking one of the shinies to do it,” he snarled with a roll of his eyes. You smirked.

“Well, I suppose, if I don’t have anyone else to ask… I will have to settle for a shiny,” you sighed dramatically, a big shrug moving your shoulders. Crosshair was watching you with just a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He had gotten used to your teasing him. It wasn’t like when his brothers ragged on him and piled up tease after tease. Yours always seemed so light-hearted and sweet. He would never admit it to you, his brothers, and could barely admit it to himself, but his chest warmed whenever you teased him with that infuriating smirk.

“I suppose I could clear my schedule and do you the favour of making sure you didn’t waste your time on this scope,” he offered graciously, a hand casually waving. You broke into a smile that made his breath catch.

“Awesome! I’ll meet you in Perch 7!” You were almost squealing in excitement as you rushed off to get the prototype. He watched you go, waited until you were out of sight, before he let go of a breath he didn’t realise he was holding onto. He raised a hand to touch the armour, wondering if it was strapped too tightly; he could barely take a deep breath and felt like his pulse was thumping against the plastoid. Brushing it away, he went to the sniper’s nest you had indicated to him.

~ * ~

“You just have to adjust it a little bit.”

“I think I, of all people, would know if my adjustments were off!”

You huffed deeply and reached over to adjust a small dial on the top of the scope. He was about to protest when the double crosshairs in the scope suddenly lurched together into one, sharpening the view within. His mouth clamped shut.

“Better?” you pressed, biting back your smirk. He didn’t respond, just pursed his lips, but you saw the ghost of a smile that ticked in the left corner of his lips. You looked forward and saw the moving targets sliding back and forth on their rope courses. Crosshair gently squeezed the trigger, and a grappling hook went flying out of the gun. The shot was aimed wildly to the left of the target, but a strong gust of wind blew it exactly where it needed to be, embedding directly into the target.

“It worked,” Crosshair noted, straightening up as he slowly reeled in the shot.

“It worked!” You shouted and jumped up, dancing in the spot in a dorky dance you knew embarrassed the rest of your crew. Crosshair didn’t even try to hide his smile this time, watching as your arms flailed and your head whipped side to side. “Can’t wait to rub it in Bantu’s smug face!”

“Yes, I’m sure it will be satisfying,” he said and reloaded the gun. “In the meantime, how about you add some rain to the mix.” You nodded at his orders and slid your fingers across your datapad to adjust the environment of the shooting range. A heavy downpour started, and you let your eyes close as you breathed in the fresh scent. You loved the way the rain smelled. It always brought you comfort.

Crosshair was momentarily distracted as he looked at you, but he cleared his throat as he tried to focus on the task at hand. Your eyes opened at the sound, and he watched as you batted those damn lashes at him. He hated how innocently you looked at him.

“Everything okay?” you asked, and he turned forward to face the targets.

“Peachy,” he muttered and pulled the trigger.

~ * ~

You remember where you were when you heard the Batch left Kamino, abandoning the Republic and their sharp-eyed brother. Well, you supposed, not the Republic anymore. You had been cleaning a dozen of the new E-11 Blaster Rifles that had just been delivered to your warehouse. They were going to be the new standard, apparently, and while you weren’t the biggest fan of them, you understood the need for a lighter weapon.

“Oh my god, did you hear what happened to your boy?” Olin Jot asked as she came running up with wide eyes. The Chiss girl looked excited, and you couldn’t figure out if it was in a good or bad way.

“Crosshair is not my boy,” you responded with a small eye roll. He wasn’t, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. You hinted at him many times over the months that you wouldn’t be opposed to a date or a roll in the sheets. There were times when you thought he would take you up on the offer, such as your late nights in sniper nests when he allowed himself to laugh like he couldn’t with anyone else, or the time he offered to help you with your form while shooting. You could still feel the heat of his body behind yours, the way his large hands looked as they adjusted your hips, and his breath on the back of your neck.

“Sure, and I definitely didn’t fuck Wrecker on your desk,” Olin sighed with a roll of her eyes.

“Olin! Did you actually?!” you demanded in horror. You knew she had been physical with Wrecker a few times before, but your desk was sacred.

“Do you want the actual answer or do you want to know about Crosshair?” she huffed. You rolled your eyes, and she beamed and continued. “Anyways, the 99 left! Apparently, they’re deserting. They took that little female with them, the one that always hangs out with Nala Se. And they left Crosshair here. They had a gunfight at the docks and everything,” Olin said.

“Wait, what? They left Crosshair?” you asked, eyebrows knitting. That didn’t sound like the 99 that you knew. Not at all.

“Well, he was trying to kill them, in their defense. Something about them being traitors,” she explained. That only left you more confused. Sure, Crosshair seemed like he was rubbed the wrong way by some of the things the Batch did, but they were his brothers. He wouldn’t try and kill them… right?

“I’m gonna…” you started, mind whirling.

“Yeah, take the day. I’ll cover you,” Olin promised as she ushered you out from behind the desk. “He should be in Med Bay 3.” You nodded in thanks and started toward him. You wanted answers.

Crosshair was unsurprised to see you coming through the door.

“Took you long enough,” he drawled as he leaned back on his hands. You were looking over him carefully.

“Are you okay?” you asked after a pregnant pause. Your chest ached at the thought that his brothers just… left him. He was rarely apart from them, and it was only for a few hours at most. It was weird not seeing Wrecker annoying him or Tech yammering into his ear. Echo was his favourite companion because he was a competent soldier who knew when to and when not to talk to him. Even Hunter often escorted the laconic clone to the med bay, usually so he could be informed immediately. But now… he was alone.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, irritability straining his voice.

“I heard what happened… and…” You weren’t entirely sure what to say to him. You wanted to help him, encourage him, ask him for clarification. There were so many things flying through your mind, and you didn’t know where to start.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, this time softer, gentler. You raised your eyes to meet his, and you could see a pain there that he clearly didn’t want addressed. You sighed and nodded.

“Okay. If you say so. How long until you can get out of here?”

“When the doc gets back,” he responded. You nodded.

“Well, if you need to talk, or even if you get hungry, I’m making fish for dinner,” you offered and turned to leave.

“Thank you,” he said as the door slid open for you to leave. You paused with your back to him. “For being here for me,” he added softly. You just nodded and turned to offer him a smile.

“I always will be,” you promised and left.

~ * ~

Olin Jot was the first person from your warehouse to leave. It was slowly turning from rare to uncommon, the frequency with which people were leaving the new Galactic Empire. They were fleeing. Olin Jot was the first person you knew who abandoned their post, other than the Batch. She had come to your room the night before she left, offering to take you with her. She knew where you would be safe to hide out from the Empire, safe from the clones who so coldly massacred the Jedi they swore to keep safe.

But you couldn’t go.

Crosshair was here.

Crosshair was already so alone, abandoned by his brothers and thrust into a new role with this new order. The only consistency he could rely on was you. His monthly visits to the armory, to you, became more frequent. It was only a short while before he was visiting you at least thrice a week. He only practiced once a week, but the other two were thinly veiled attempts at finding comfort in a familiar face, masked by asking you a question about shipping or complaining about a simple issue with his weapon that took less than a minute to adjust. Then he spent the rest of the visit just listening to you talk, watching you work, even answering questions and talking without prompt. You didn’t know how long it had taken, but at some point, Crosshair started visiting you at your apartment as well. Usually for dinner after a long day at work, sometimes just to watch a movie with you. It was only once in a while, but it was a treat whenever he did. He rooted you to the base because every time you started to think you wanted to leave, his stupid smirk would pop into your head, and you stayed.

So Olin left without you, and you stayed behind for a man you were in love with.

“I won’t be here when you come back for your Thursday practice,” you mentioned casually to Crosshair as he wrapped up for the evening. He raised an eyebrow at you silently, and you knew he wanted to know why. “I’ll be in Coruscant! One of our mechanics has been relocated there, and he finished up an element-starting fuse I’ve been working on. I have to pick it up, so I was granted leave for Thursday and a return in 4 days.”

“You’re going by yourself?” he asked. You nodded.

“Just a short flight over, get to play tourist for a few days, then back to the ol’ warehouse.” You ticked off the short schedule on your fingers.

“Without an escort?” he asked, this time confusion creeping into his voice.

“Well, yeah, that’s what going by myself means,” you said slowly, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He was staring at you, and it startled you that you couldn’t read the emotion on his face. It was the same as ever, blank, but you usually could understand his thoughts and moods based on the miniscule muscle movement underneath his skin. Not this time. He just hummed and looked away without another word to you.

~ * ~

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” you were insisting to the dock manager, who was wholly unhelpful as he motioned to others around you.

“Look, it’s not my decision. You were assigned an escort,” he said with a shrug, a worker carrying your bags onto the ship.

“I don’t want an escort,” you pouted. He shrugged.

“Tough shit.”

You rolled your eyes and entered the shuttle, moving to the cockpit. You plopped down in the pilot seat and crossed your arms. You were looking forward to a weekend of peace and seclusion, honestly. Ever since the Republic started shifting to the Empire, it had been a flurry of new people and identification and even the money was different. You just wanted to curl up in your hotel and forget that the galaxy was changing around you.

“No need to look so sullen, doll,” a voice hissed from behind you. You bolted upright and spun to face Crosshair. He was standing with that same smirk on his lips. You didn’t stop the grin from breaking through your lips.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in pleasant shock.

“I’m your escort,” he responded. “I convinced Admiral Rampart that the fuse you’ve developed is important and needs extra security. He bit once I offered to do it.”

“You just wanted a vacation, is that it?” you teased, and he didn’t even roll his eyes at that.

“Let’s get going. I want as much time as possible away from these kriffin’ regs,” he sneered as one of the “regs” dropped off Crosshair’s bag as well. You nodded and checked to make sure you were flight ready before taking off and heading to Coruscant.

The flight was easy enough, and you managed to rope Crosshair into small talk and gossip. He seemed more relaxed than normal. When it was just the two of you alone, posted in some secluded sniper’s nest for target practice and equipment testing or on your living room couch and watching a movie, he allowed himself to relax as much as he could in his stiff armor. His scowl was a neutral line. His eyebrows unfurrowed. His laugh came easier, and it was warmer than his usual chuckle. It bubbled out of his chest with ease, and it was the essence your happiness seemed to stem from. By the time you got to the city, you were red in the face from laughing and even Crosshair couldn’t wipe away his smile.

There was a T-77 Airspeeder waiting for you for city use, and Crosshair lay a hand on your shoulder as you headed toward the driver’s seat. You looked up at him in confusion, and he just offered you a lopsided smirk before hopping over the door and sliding his lithe body behind the wheel in one fluid motion. You huffed a little and opened the door to the passenger seat as he adjusted the vehicle to his needs.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he teased as he adjusted the rearview mirror. That earned him a dramatic roll of your eyes, to which he responded with a chuckle.

“Security man thinks he’s all that because he beat me to the driver’s,” you muttered before pulling out your commlink from your backpack. He just laughed, and you messaged Haven, your contact. He sent his coordinates to you, and you gave Crosshair the directions. He pulled the craft into the air and into traffic, driving with ease. His hair was short, but it still moved in the wind. He wore his armor, but you knew he had brought civilian clothing with him as well, and you were excited to see what he looked like in plain clothes. How he looked now was cool, but you didn’t want to see cool. You wanted to see him.

“Why are you staring?” he asked, not even looking at you. You turned away from him with a deep blush burning your cheeks, and he smirked to himself.

When you got to Haven’s new warehouse, the Duros man gave you a tour of the place before leading you to his office. It wasn’t too far off from your own warehouse, just a bit more cluttered and definitely smaller. It needed to be in order to fit in the city. Their sniper posts were high up and the targets were across the building whereas your sniper posts were spread across the base, targets set up in odd spots and angles. That was Crosshair’s only take away from the tour.

“Thanks, Have, you’re a gem,” you said as he handed you the box of fuses. He nodded.

“Yeah, of course! I miss working with you. The people here don’t have your ingenuity. They send me designs for the same boring things. One of them told me their idea was groundbreaking,” he said and leaned forward to lower his voice. “They had the idea of a fuse that ignited when exposed to UV beam,” he muttered. You scrunched your nose at him, and he laughed. “Yeah, exactly!”

“Well, we certainly miss you back at base. Give my love to Allen and the kids!” you said as you hugged your old friend goodbye.

“I will. You take care, okay? And enjoy your time here. I’ll send you a list of my favourite spots to go to,” he said with a wave to you both as you got back on the speeder.

“Let’s go to the hotel. I need a shower. This city is full of nasty smog,” you muttered through your smile as you waved to Haven in farewell. Crosshair exhaled sharply in a laugh and nodded, taking you to the requested destination.

The hotel was on the cusp of the underground. The neon signs from the city below lit up your level with bright colours, but the sky above was still filled with a million stars. The suite you were assigned had 2 bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a shared refresher. You didn’t even appreciate a look around the place before you were in the ‘fresher and washing off the city grime from your skin and hair. You could feel the stress melting off of you along with the sweat. The city really was different from Kamino, a place you’ve called home for so long now.

After you dried off, you went out to the living room with a sigh of relief, towel draped over your head. The aroma of cooking meat, paired with its delicious sizzle, hit your senses as you turned the corner to the kitchen. Crosshair was standing in front of the stove. He had taken off his armour, standing in his tight black clothes that all the soldiers wore underneath, and you were shook. It was the first time you had ever seen the slender clone out of his armour. You stopped dead in your tracks and ran your eyes up his long legs, up his narrow waist, following the curve of his back to his broad shoulders, and finally settling on his face… and he was staring at you.

“Can I help you?” he teased, and you knew your blush must’ve been bad since your burning face was accompanied by a haze in your head. You scrambled your way to sit at one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter, watching him move around the kitchen with ease.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cook, Cross,” you inquired, head tilting to one side. He nodded simply.

“I don’t usually have the opportunity to, but I do like cooking for myself now and again. It’s… relaxing. Plus, it’s just another way of proving I’m better than the regs,” he said with a light shrug. You couldn’t help but laugh at that. He was always trying to prove just how much better he was than the other clones, but he didn’t need to try so hard. You already knew he was.

“What are you making?” you asked, raising up a little to try and peek over his shoulder.

“Hey, nosey, butt out. You’ll find out soon enough. How was your shower?” he asked, moving to block your view even more. You sunk into your seat with a sigh of contentment.

“Amazing. I usually hate hot showers, but it felt nice this time. Plus, I’m on vacation, so why not spoil myself a little?” You giggled a little at that, and Crosshair stiffened at the sound. You noticed it, but he relaxed almost immediately, so you almost immediately forgot about it.

“Hot showers can be nice. But cold is the way to go,” he agreed, turning around to set a glass down in front of you. It was a wine glass with a violet liquid inside of it.

“What’s this?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes. He smiled a little, and you saw that there wasn’t an ounce of stress or coldness on his face.

“Phattro. Try it,” he prompted with a motion to it. You gave him the narrowed eyes of distrust but drank from the glass anyways. Your small sip turned into a big gulp. It was delicious! Fruity and refreshing, you couldn’t even tell there was alcohol in it! When you told him such, he broke into a grin. “I got some when I heard we would have a few days before heading back to Kamino. Wanted to see how you like it.”

“Aw, Crosshair, are you being considerate?” you teased him.

“Yes.”

His answer was simple and accompanied by a firm nod. The candor took you by surprise, but the small, shy smile on his face shocked you to your core. Your core.

“Oh,” was all you could say back. He stared at you a moment before turning away with pink cheeks. He sipped his own drink, and you were downing yours to avoid feeling things. Feeling things that you shouldn’t be feeling. Feeling things that you certainly didn’t want to feel for the Commander that you stayed in this forsaken Empire for. Those feelings.

“I’m going to put this in the oven to finish while I shower. Don’t peek,” he ordered you as he poured you both another drink.

“Or what?” you challenged with a heavy layer of brat in your tone.

“Or I’ll have to punish you for being disobedient,” he responded simply. You both paused, and he was staring at your face from across the kitchen counter. There was a faint fizzing from the carbonation in your drink. The clock on the wall ticked away the lifetimes that passed between you two. The blood that rushed in your ears was deafening. Crosshair cleared his throat and excused himself before rushing off to the ‘fresher.

You downed two more glasses before he returned, and you couldn’t help but stare yet again. He was in the same outfit as you, a black t-shirt and joggers, but you had a feeling he looked better in it. His slender body was only accentuated by the outfit, the shirt pulling taut across his chest and the sleeves giving way to his muscular arms. Your clothes seemed tighter on you, just because of the curve of your ass and breasts.

“Did you peek?” he asked with a tone you didn’t entirely care for.

“No,” you pouted, lip jutting out.

“Are you lying?” he asked, this time his tone less condescending and more teasing. He was moving to step in front of you now, and you turned in the seat to allow him to stand pretty close to you. He slipped into the space between your knees like he belonged there, and his hands moved to the kitchen counter and then around your back to grab the back of your chair. He lowered his face to yours, peering those chocolate eyes into yours. You could feel the heat from his skin on yours, and you felt yourself breathing as lightly as possible.

“No,” you said again, this time breathlessly and with wide eyes. He smiled and closed the gap to touch the tip of his nose to yours.

“Good girl,” he whispered. The praise was a direct jolt to your clit, and it was as if he could see your response. Probably didn’t help that your pupils looked like they hadn’t seen sunshine in years. They were so dilated, they almost overtook your irises. He smirked and pulled away from you to sweep back into the kitchen. You took in a deep breath, finally feeling free to actually intake air again.

Dinner, as it turned out, was a perfect steak, roasted potatoes and veggies, and a salad. You were gushing to Crosshair about all the things you wanted to do and see over the next few days, and the two of you decided to take dessert on the balcony, underneath the stars. The evening had just started turning to nighttime, and you loved the way the city lights melted in with the stars above as well. It was a brisk night, and a light breeze made you almost shiver.

“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tomorrow night!” you exclaimed with glee as you checked the weather and updates on your comm.

“Will we be able to see it from down here?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked up. The sky was easy enough to see, but he had a feeling a higher tower would award a better view. But you nodded your head in confirmation.

“Yeah, we can. We can always go somewhere better to see it, but I like where we are. Between two worlds, you know?” you asked and stood up to lean over the balcony bannister. Crosshair jumped to his feet, rushing to stand beside you, as if he was worried you were going feet over head over the edge. He lay a gentle hand on your lower back. You looked at him in shock, and he was regarding you with wide eyes of concern. “Did you think I was going to fall?” you asked, a tease creeping into your tone as you couldn’t help but feel warm.

“You…” he stammered, motioning to the balcony and the city below. “I just…” He wasn’t sure what to say. You’re a grown ass woman, and he was worried you would be clumsy enough to fall, he supposed. He was worried.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly, raising a hand to cup his left cheek. He stared at you, and there was a swelling of tension between the two of you. All those nights you spent laughing at stupid action films, all those evenings you helped him with his shots, all those mornings he greeted you with a shy smile and a professional hello. The moment seemed to build because of the way he tucked your hair behind your ear when you were furiously scribbling on your data pad; the way you made him a caf with a splash of milk and 2 sugars, setting it down on his desk in front of him as he ran through his daily emails; the way he looked at you in the corner of his eyes when you were busy explaining some new project you were working on. Your fingertips brushed against his cheekbone, and his dug into your back as he pulled you closer.

The doorbell to your suite rang then.

You stepped away from Crosshair with a deep blush, eyes turning back to the city. A severe scowl overtook his lips, and he looked downright murderous as he went into the suite to head to the front door.

“What?” he snapped as he opened it to one of the hotel managers.

“Good evening, Commander, sorry for the intrusion. I trust everything is up to your standards?” she asked nervously, her fingers playing at the hem of her skirt. You finished your drink and went back into the suite, raising an eyebrow at the pair as you went to the kitchen to pour yourself another drink.

“What do you want?” Crosshair demanded, ignoring her question. He was in a foul mood now, and you can’t say you blamed him. The fire in your chest turned to an ache now, and you could feel a growing discomfort in your belly as the memory of his touch started to fade away. You craved more, you wanted more. You wanted his lips on yours, your nails in his back, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Well, we noticed you’ve stayed with us regularly in the past. But with the lack of your usual travel companions, we weren’t sure if you wanted your usual package. Since you opted for the 2 bedroom suite, we were wondering if you wanted to make your selection of evening company or have the regulars sent?” she asked. A pang hit your heart as you peered over the manager’s shoulder and saw some dressed-up women behind her. They weren’t in lingerie--okay, that one was--but they may as well have been. You didn’t think that maid was actually here to clean, and you doubted that nurse had an actual medical license. She could, you supposed, but you doubted it.

Crosshair’s face turned a deep red, and he looked at you quickly, mouth dropping open to explain himself. You raised a hand to stop him.

“Have at it. I’m going to bed,” you said before pursing your lips and retreating to your room. After the door slid shut behind you, the very loud, telltale sound of your bedroom door locking echoed in the apartment. Crosshair turned to the manager with pure fury in his gaze.

“Get out,” he hissed at her through gritted teeth.

“So no companion tonight?” she asked meekly.

“Or any other night. Get the fuck out of here,” he snapped, motioning for her to leave. She bowed quickly and ushered the girls away, muttering and whispering to them sharply as they left. He slammed the door shut and rested his forehead against the door. There was a pause before he groaned to himself and went to your bedroom door. He stopped himself from knocking, hand raised to do so, and opted instead to retreat to his room.

Inside your room, you had your face buried in your pillows, drink on your nightstand, and were trying your best to drown out whatever noise Crosshair could be making. You didn’t want to hear it. But your comm beeped, and you checked the message from the clone.

“Hunter used to get companions for the squad after a mission well done. Since it was a regular occurrence, they started to just assume the squad wanted evening companions and sent them to the suite without prompt. Since all of our names were on the rooms, they must’ve figured I partook in their activities. I assure you, I did not. I sent them away; they won’t bother us again this weekend. Sleep well.”

~ * ~

You tried to pretend like you weren’t bothered when you saw him the next morning, but you were. You were annoyed. Your perfect moment had been ruined, and you went to bed drunk and disgruntled. Not to mention you’d been aching for his touch for how long now? So when the morning came, you didn’t exactly want to see his face. You didn’t have a choice, though. He knocked on the door and ordered you to get ready for the day. He had a surprise for you.

You emerged from your room after changing for the day. You wore a white tank-top that tucked into high-waisted blue jeans. The bottoms were cuffed just above your black boots. A blue and grey flannel finished off the look, and you had the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm. He turned to look at you when you rounded the corner to the living room. His eyebrows raised slightly, and his mouth opened a little; you watched his eyes trace a path over your form. He wore a black t-shirt paired with blue jeans and boots. It was a simple look, and it definitely worked for him.

“Good morning,” he greeted you with a clearing of his throat. You nodded and repeated the sentiment to him, though your tone was a little icier than his. He seemed to understand and feel your tension; it wasn’t the good tension from last night. He didn’t like this one. “I have our day planned. Do you have any objections with me taking over?” he asked.

“You’re the escort and a Commander, so I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?” you responded curtly. He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded.

“In that case, it’s time to go, sweetheart,” he said and motioned to the door. You didn’t even acknowledge his words, and he could feel the ice on your heart from his spot in the kitchen. You were brought to the airspeeder, and he even opened the door for you. You thanked him; you were mad, not rude. Normally, you would’ve pestered him with guesses of your destination, but you didn’t say a word to him now as he flew you through the city. You just looked around at all the buildings and advertisements and businesses. He took you higher onto the surface and to a massive glass dome. He helped you out of the vehicle and offered his arm to you. You took it, slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow, and he smiled just a little at that. You couldn’t have been that mad then.

“What is this place?” you asked, curiosity starting to overtake your anger.

“You don’t know?” he asked, eyebrow raised. You shook your head, trying to find a sign to read, but he broke into a smile at that. “Close your eyes,” he commanded. Your eyebrow furrowed as you glared at him, but he insisted. “Seriously. It will be worth it, doll, I promise.” You sighed and did as told, and he slipped his hands over your eyes as he stepped behind you. His hands were large, his fingers slender, and you could feel the callouses against your soft skin. His skin was warm. He walked you into the building, ordered two tickets from the ticket booth, and then moved you toward an area. You could smell the ocean, you could hear chatter, and it sounded like there was even a waterfall roaring in the distance. Crosshair did his best to not let you stumble too much. “Okay, open,” he whispered, his breath hot in your ear.

You reached up and moved his hands away, opening your eyes, and awe melted your attitude away. Your jaw dropped. Before you was a massive aquarium tank teeming with gigantic aquatic life. There were some creatures you recognised from Kamino, but there were so many more than you had ever seen or read about. You loved aquariums, and you especially loved learning about sea life. Crosshair knew this about you.

“Oh my stars,” you whispered as you took in the sight. There was a massive turtle sailing through the water, one of its fins replaced with a cybernetic paddle. A sea lion with a new mechanical eye attachment was lazily floating at the top. The bottom of the tank was shimmering with bright coral and fish.

“Welcome to the Coruscant Rescue and Rehabilitation Aquarium,” Crosshair introduced. You broke into a grin and rushed forward, keeping one of his hands in yours as you did to drag him along with you. He was startled by your hand slipping into his, but he tangled his fingers with yours anyways. As you pointed out all the different creatures, labelling them with gasps of awe, you didn’t notice that he never let go. You dragged him to each of the plaques and informational posters about the different beings and what happened to them; he kept your excited pace. Your mouth ran a lightyear a minute as you explained to him why a certain creature was cool and how important they were to their ecosystem; he smiled as he filed away your facts and opinions. You walked around the building, going tank to tank, seeing how certain creatures were allowed to live with others based on their temperament and lifestyle; he made sure you didn’t get too lost. You passed underneath a waterfall, where winged fish were swimming up stream and above your heads as their daily exercise. Then you got to the tunnel, which was a completely glass tunnel where the fish swam above and around you. You had them in Kamino, but not like this.

“Crosshair, look!” you gasped as a school of fish floated lazily above your head. He smiled and looked; he did every time you prompted. “Aren’t they beautiful?” you asked. He nodded and then looked at you. The way the light reflected through the water splashed jagged lines across your face. Shadows of the water creatures occasionally passed over your features. But he loved the pure awe and joy in your face. You noticed he was staring at you, and you let your eyes linger on him. He was silhouetted by the water, the fish, the light, and the serenity of it all. He was smiling at you.

“Cross…” you whispered as he pulled you to him. His hand had never let go of yours, and you were acutely aware of that as he released it now to slip his hand to your lower back. He shook his head gently, hushing you. His other hand moved to the side of your neck, cupping your jaw, and he caught your lips with his without a word.

It was a much gentler kiss than you were expecting. You figured Crosshair would have a rough kiss your first time, as sure and needy as the man himself. But this kiss was shy, scared, and a little curious. When you melted against his lips, refreshing the kiss with a wave of your lips, he allowed himself to accept that you wanted this as much as he did. Your hands found their home clutching his shirt above his chest, and you were on tip-toe to lock lips with the sniper.

“That’s what I wanted to do last night, cyar’ika. Not deal with that kriffin’ manager,” he muttered as you broke the kiss. You smiled and nodded, a blush on your cheeks, and he tucked your hair behind your ear. “Don’t be mad at me anymore, okay? We have a whole weekend left. Be mad at me once we’re on Kamino,” he said. You laughed and shook your head.

“I’m not mad at you.” His eyes lit up, but you held a hand up to him quickly. “At least, I won’t be if you buy me an ice cream cone at the cafeteria.” He laughed and slipped his arm around your shoulder now, pulling you against his side, and the two of you made your way to get the sweet treat.

After the aquarium was a cute farmer’s market trip. Crosshair held your hand the whole time, and he even allowed you to shove exotic fruits and candles in his face to smell. Then it was a stop at a cafe for coffee, chocolate, and kisses stolen under the premise of having “something on your lip”. He took you to a dinner-theatre that evening, where you watched an ancient musical about a scarred Chiss who lived at an opera house and was in love with a Miraluka, who was already engaged to a rather jealous Trandoshan. You had a fantastic time, and Crosshair’s arm never left the back of your seat. By the time you were stumbling into your hotel suite, your lips were already raw from his kisses that grew needier by the end of the night, and you were burning in desire.

~ * ~

“Take it off,” Cross growled against your lips when the suite door was locked behind you. He pressed you against the door and started kissing, licking, and nibbling on the soft skin of your neck. You gasped as you felt the pressure his lips grow a deep ache in your pussy. His hands were tugging at your flannel, and you whipped it off without another thought. He chuckled at your obedience, a rumble against your skin. Your hands tugged at his shirt, but he lay a hand on yours. “Hold on. I have one last surprise,” he muttered.

“Cross,” you whined as he pulled away. You immediately dove into his arms, your teeth biting onto his neck, and he hissed in pleasure.

“Fuck, mesh’la, that’s not fair,” he gasped as you licked a broad stripe along his adam’s apple. You bit onto the skin to the left of it, and he picked you up in his arms with a growl. Your legs wrapped around his hips, and you could feel his hardness pressing against your core as he started walking toward the balcony. Your hands were clasped behind his neck, and you used the steadiness of his strong hands on your thighs to grind against him. He gasped and set you down, pushing you away with a stern expression. “One last surprise,” he breathed, opening the balcony doors. The lounges and table that were normally out there were gone. They were replaced with a massive blanket, a fleece throw on top of it with a couple of pillows, and a picnic basket. He took your hand and led you to lay down on the blanket. Looking up at the night sky, you saw that it was the perfect view.

“The meteor shower!” you gasped, looking at him. He smiled and nodded, opening up the picnic basket.

“I thought it would be nice to comfortably view the shower,” he said, pulling out a bottle of champagne to pour into flutes for the two of you. You sat up and accepted the drink, clinking it against his. You sipped it, staring into his eyes, and you could feel your heart pounding in your throat.

“We have some time before it begins…” he said slowly. You broke into a grin and jumped forward, into his open arms, before claiming his lips with yours. The sharp taste of champagne let way to his own as your tongues danced together. He pulled you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist again, and he leaned forward to lay you on your back. He wanted to take control, and that was in line with everything you knew about him. You giggled as he trailed his kisses down your neck, to your bare shoulders, across your chest. His hands tugged your tank top over your head, and his lips went right back to burning your skin everywhere they touched. When you tugged his shirt this time, he allowed you to pull it over his head with ease. Your hands ran over his chest, his back, his sides, and down to the waistband of his jeans.

It felt nice to have the pressure of his jeans rubbing against you, but that’s not what you wanted. It’s not what you needed. You could already feel you had soaked your panties, so when he backed up to take off your jeans, you weren’t surprised when the cold air hit your slick thighs. He slowly peeled away your panties to expose your slit to his eyes. He gasped lightly.

“Stars, cyar’ika, who let you look so fucking good?” he asked, his voice husky and desperate. You laughed and pulled him back to cover your body from the air.

“We’ll have plenty of time to play, Cross, but I need you to fuck me right now,” you whispered in his ear before capturing his lobe between your teeth and giving the soft flesh a good suck. He moaned, shivering in your grasp, and made quick work of his own jeans. You helped him by pushing them down with your feet, and they were barely past his ankles before you were raising your hips to rub the head of his cock against your slit. You moaned at the heat and hardness. He didn’t hesitate, dipping his hips to slide into you in one fluid motion. Your moan was in perfect harmony with his, and even if it wasn’t, it was the most beautiful noise either of you had ever heard.

He paused, bottomed out inside of you, and savoured your heat and wetness. You were whimpering in his ear, begging him to fuck you, and how could he say no? He started moving within you, pulling out almost completely before sinking right back in. He moved slowly at first, devouring the way you looked beneath him and the noises you made that echoed off of the buildings. He was starved for the way your nails ran down his back, the way your knees squeezed his hips, the way your pants and moans fell from your lips. He was addicted to the way you moaned his name. He picked up the pace, hit places inside of you that you, frankly, didn’t know could be hit by a partner. His lips were planted beside your ear, and his soft grunts and moans were growing louder and more feral by the stroke.

An ache was building within you, and you knew what was coming. You gave him warning, your back arching as you bucked against his hips to match his thrusts. He stroked your hair and kissed you as best he could, what with you bouncing beneath him and all. He told you he was also close, and suddenly you were begging for him to fill you up, to cum inside of you. A look of pure desire and hunger took over his face; his pupils must’ve been as big as yours.

“I want you to cum inside of me, Crosshair!”

“Only if you cum around my cock, cyare.”

The trade-off was fair, you thought, but you didn’t think for too much longer. About anything. You were pushed over the edge, your mind going blank, and a flare of white light overtook you as you trembled in his arms. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way you shivered, sent Crosshair over the edge right after you, and he sunk deep into your pussy as he released his load inside of you. He came with a cry, hips trying to bury himself as far into you as he could. He stroked your hair, kissing you gently, before he pulled out and rolled onto the blanket beside you.

He pulled the fleece over your naked bodies, and you reached down to hold his hand in yours, fingers intertwining. He kept kissing you, kept telling you how beautiful you are, how perfect. You lay, head to head, as the meteors started lighting up the sky above you.

“Hey, Cross?” you said, your chest swelling as you watched the gorgeous stars, holding hands with this man you’ve liked for so long, feeling his cum drip out of your pussy.

“Yeah, cyare?” he asked.

“Cross, I… I really… Well, I mean…” you started to fumble over your words, and he sat up, propped up on an elbow as he looked at you.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, interrupting your rambles.

“You do?” you asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. He nodded and smiled, that same soft smile that had kept you in the Empire, kept you on Kamino, kept you in his arms.

“Yeah, I do,” he confirmed and sealed his words with a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I love you, too,” you whispered with a little giggle. He pulled you into his arms again, kisses sporadic as he knew you wanted to watch the meteor shower, but you weren’t hard-pressed to start round 2 just yet. You had all weekend.

~ * ~

The rest of the weekend’s plans were thrown out the window. You spent every moment in Crosshair’s arms, tangled in his sheets, lounging on the couch, fucking in the kitchen, dancing in the living room. Aside from trips to the ‘fresher, he was never out of your reach. He even showered with you, gently massaging your scalp with soap before dropping to his knees to bury his nose into your slit. You were exhausted by the end of the trip, but you were happy. Happier than you ever thought possible.

Then you returned to Kamino.

You had known that your relationship would have to be a secret, or, minimally, be toned down. But it was only a month of bliss before Crosshair started to pull away from you. He stopped visiting you at work as much, until it was not at all. When he went for his Thursday practices, he usually went off on his own or with another technician. When you asked him about it, he just insisted he was busy. And even though he spent nearly every night at your place, you couldn’t help but feel a little weird about it.

You were granted a monthly trip to Coruscant to keep up research with Haven. Always the 3rd weekend of the month, and always the same hotel room. Crosshair was your escort each time, and everything always returned to normal when you were in Coruscant. He kissed you like nothing else mattered, he looked into your eyes until you fell asleep, and he made you breakfast in the morning. But then you’d return to Kamino, and the coldness started all over again.

By the 4th month, you were over it.

“What the fuck is going on, Cross? Am I just a fuck buddy to you or something?” you demanded when he came by that night. You knew it was more than that; fuck buddies didn’t stroke your hair when you were sick and tell you how much they loved you every moment they could.

“It’s not that, cyare, I promise,” he insisted.

“Just tell me what’s going on! Please,” you begged, your voice strained. He could see the pain on your face, the anguish in your tone, the fear in your eyes. He sighed and nodded, sitting down on your couch. He pulled your hand for you to sit beside him.

“It’s… Rampart. I think he knows we’re together… and I think he’s going to try and use you against me. Maybe not now, but at some point. I can’t allow something to happen to you,” Crosshair explained, and you felt the ache in your chest melt away. You were scared that he didn’t feel for you the way you did for him, but this was so much worse. He was worried about you.

“Cross,” you started softly, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just told you what I was thinking, how I was feeling. But he’s got eyes everywhere, and I couldn’t risk showing how much you really meant to me.” Your lips pursed and you lay a hand on his.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, I promise. But…” He looked at you as you nibbled on your bottom lip.

“What?” he probed.

“Come away with me,” you said suddenly.

“What?” he asked, this time in confusion.

“Olin Jot contacted me yesterday. She can get me off of Kamino, to somewhere where the Empire isn’t. She can get us out, Cross, and we can be free. We can be together!” you said, excitement growing in your voice. You expected him to smile, to be happy, to agree and pack to run away with you. But instead, his eyebrows furrowed. He pulled his hand out of your grasp, and his lip curled.

“Tell me you’re joking,” he said, any light on his face fading away. You felt your chest tighten.

“No… We can leave, Cross. We can get out of here. We can find your brothers, or we can go be on our own,” you said. He flinched like you had just slapped him across the face. He stood up and stepped away from you in disgust.

“My place is here. Our place is here,” he hissed at you, anger in his tone. You don’t remember the last time he had taken this tone with you, but you didn’t care for it. You jumped to your feet, and you could feel tears stinging your eyes.

“You just said that your boss would use me against you. Doesn’t that sound like something you should probably get away from?!” you demanded.

“My purpose is to serve the Empire,” he said.

“Your purpose was to serve the Republic and fight the droids. But the droids are dead and the Republic is gone! So why are you still here?” you challenged.

“You’re asking me to become a traitor,” he shouted.

“I’m asking you to choose me over your precious Empire!” you snapped. He flinched at that, and you kept pressing. “Or is your title so important to you that you would choose being a Commander over me?” He didn’t say anything. “Maybe I have it wrong…” Your voice broke as you whispered. “Maybe it’s not the title that means so much… It’s that I don’t mean enough.”

“Cyare,” he started, but you held your hand up to him. Your tears burned as they rolled down your face.

“Just go. If you decide you want to come with me, I’m leaving at 3am,” you sniffled and started shoving him out of your apartment.

“Cyare!” he insisted, but you closed the door on his face and fell into a sobbing heap against the door.

~ * ~

“So this is how it’ll be?” you asked, stopping right before your shuttle. It was 3am on the dot, and you had packed most of your things away in the ship. You had grabbed your final duffle bag when you felt the muzzle of a blaster against the back of your head. You didn’t have to turn around; you knew who it was.

“This makes you a traitor, cyare,” Crosshair spoke, his voice filtered through his helmet. But you could hear it waver.

“Then kill me.”

When you didn’t die in the next few seconds, you sighed and turned to face him. He held the gun steady against your head, and you pressed your forehead to it.

“Take off your helmet. I want to see your eyes one last time before I die,” you said to him, an eerie calm in your tone. He did as prompted, pulling the bucket off with his free hand. There were tears in his eyes, and they matched the ones that wet your cheeks.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered.

“You could always come with me.” He shook his head at that, and you sighed again. “I didn’t think so… I have to go. I think you both know I can’t stay here. If not for my own sanity and ethics, then because Rampart could kick my door down at any moment and kill me in front of you just to teach you a lesson.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to get hurt,” he insisted.

“You can only pick one,” you chuckled, a sad smile on your lips. He pressed the gun closer to your head.

“Don’t do this,” he repeated. You shook your head.

“Goodbye, Crosshair. I love you. I always have, and I… Well, I always will,” you whispered, the ice that started to creep over your heart also freezing your tears. You took a chance and turned away from him, walking to your shuttle. You had a feeling he wouldn’t shoot, and when you made it to the door unscatched, you knew you were right. You paused to look back at him. He had the gun lowered at his side, and he was watching you, broken and weak.

“We’ll always have the balcony, Cross,” you said with a smile before closing the door behind you, shutting him out of sight and out of your heart.

~ * ~

The next 4 weeks crawled by. You settled into your new life with Olin Jot. You worked as a weapons technician for a group of rebels who intended to fight back against the Empire. You had even been able to meet up with Wrecker and the Batch at a seedy little bar run by a Trandoshan. Wrecker held you as you sobbed into his shoulder, telling them all about Crosshair. He knew you two were in love, had known long before either of you did, so he knew that it couldn’t have been easy for you to leave. But he also knew that you didn’t belong in the Empire.

“So, what now?” he asked you as you drank and watched Omega hustle some adults at chess.

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyebrow raised at him.

“You’re giving up on him? You’re going to move on?” he asked. “That’s not the stubborn weapons tech I know. I mean, we left, but he was shooting at us. He let you go, so he clearly doesn’t want you dead. And, I mean, the only time any of us had ever heard him laugh was with you.”

You pursed your lips and nodded.

“There’s one last thing I need to try,” you said and explained your plan to him. He beamed and roared that it was a fantastic plan.

~ * ~

You were standing on the balcony of your hotel room, waiting, and you felt a familiar arm slip around your waist. You hadn’t heard him come in, but all the anxiety you had melted away the moment you felt his touch. His touch also broke the floodgates of your tears, and you turned to sob into his chest. He held you in his arms, and stroked your hair like he always had.

“I’m right here, cyare,” Crosshair whispered as he soothed you, stroking your back as well. He pressed his lips to your head, breathing in your scent, taking in your form. He had missed you so much. The last month had been nothing short of hell, and he couldn’t believe that you had managed to make such an impact on him. He had tried so hard to guard himself from attachments, but that first trip to Coruscant proved that you had wiggled your way between the armour of his heart at some point before that. And when you left, you took the whole heart with you. He had impatiently waited for the weeks to pass before he could finally make his way to you. The one place he knew you would wait for him. The one place he knew belonged to the two of you alone.

“You came,” you finally managed to choke out, gasping for breath to calm yourself down. He nodded with a smile.

“I’ve missed you so much. I… I couldn’t stand being away from you,” he explained, stroking your face and wiping away your tears. “It’s okay, cyare, really. It’s okay. I’m right here,” he said with a laugh, peppering your face with kisses.

“Does this mean…?” you asked. He nodded, hugging your head tightly.

“No title is worth not having you at my side,” he muttered against your head. You broke into fresh tears, and he laughed as he stroked your back. “I take it this means you missed me, too?” he teased.

“You bantha-shit head!” you cried, and he laughed again.

“Hey, kid, he’s brought all these bags with him! That’s good, right?”

Crosshair froze at the voice and looked at you with narrowed eyes. You smiled through your tears.

“Oh, yeah, so… The Batch are here,” you said sheepishly.

“You found them?” he asked.

“The moment I left, I started tracking them down. They figured, if you didn’t come with me willingly, they would kidnap you anyway,” you explained.

“You set up an ambush?” he demanded in alarm.

“Only if you didn’t come willingly! But you did! So it doesn’t matter!” you said quickly, grabbing his hands in yours. He laughed and kissed you, a sparkle coming to his eyes that brought a flutter to your heart.

“I love you, cyare. More than anything,” he whispered. You smiled and kissed him deeply in response. “Now c’mon. I’ve got to kick Wrecker’s ass for dropping my bag. I know he thinks I didn’t hear it, but I did,” he muttered against your lips. You giggled and let him lead the way, opening the door to the suite, his brothers, and your heart once more.

You had Crosshair back.

That’s all that mattered.

#galactic daydreams #ao3fic #jp oakbrook #archive of our own #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #the clones #clone force 99 #bad batch #the bad batch #smut #fluff #angst #emotions #mutual pining #soft crosshair

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jpoakbrook · 2 years

Text

BEYOND THE BEDROOM

series summary: a collection of smutty drabbles from my fic "beyond the stars, beyond the sea".

These are NOT canon.

Just a bunch of shameless little smut between Juniper & everyone else.

chapter 3: obi-wan

NSFW: pure smut

You gasped as his teeth found your neck, gently biting in between needy kisses. You were quickly moving the cups of tea away from your little area of influence. Knocking them over would ruin some of the books, but it would cause people to come see what was going on. And the last thing you wanted was to be caught like this.

Obi-wan stood between your legs, your feet hooked behind his waist to hold him closely to you, and you propped yourself up with your hands on the table. He tore open the front of your cardigan, your bare breasts exposed, nipples stiffening in the cold air. You were gasping, his body hot against yours, and his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants. You lifted your hips and allowed him to quickly tug the pants away. You were wet.

He fumbled with the front of his pants, and you laughed a little as you took over, swiftly undoing the front to slide it down to his knees. When you straightened up again, your hand wrapped around his hard cock, loving the warmth and the way it throbbed beneath your touch. You kissed him, biting onto his lower lip when he tried to grab your tongue with his. He groaned, and you felt that.

His hands pulled you taut against him, and he sunk deep into your core. You threw your head back with a gasp, not daring to moan in the silent archives. He didn’t care, his own groan reverberating in your chest. You laughed a little as he started to thrust inside of you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice breathless as he hit that spot, making you moan.

“Nothing. Nothing,” you gasped back, fingers grasping at his chest. “It’s just… you’re so proper, and now you’re fucking me in the library,” you said with a little laugh. He laughed as well, kissing you roughly.

“There’s still more to come, my dear,” he muttered darkly against your lips. You beamed at him, but your eyes rolled back as he thrust into you. Your hands moved to his back, holding him against you, chest to chest, and you felt your toes start to curl.

“O-Obi-wan,” you gasped. He audibly groaned at that. You realised this was the first time you really called him by his name. “Obi-wan, please,” you begged of him, and he fell apart. He crushed you against him, your name a fumble on his lips, as he unloaded inside of you. Feeling his seed fill you up, the heat of it pushed you over the edge, and you had to bite down on his robes to stop your cry.

You sat on the edge of the table, his cock still inside you, as his cum dripped from your pussy. He panted lightly, forehead on your shoulder, before you kissed him.

“Tonight? You’re calling me Master Kenobi,” he muttered in your ear. You grinned at him and nodded.

“Of course, sir.”

#the research and outreach archivist #galactic daydreams #smut #drabble #ao3fic #jp oakbrook #archive of our own #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan smut #juniper pyke #beyond the bedroom

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jpoakbrook · 2 years

Text

BEYOND THE BEDROOM

series summary: a collection of smutty drabbles from my fic "beyond the stars, beyond the sea".

These are NOT canon.

Just a bunch of shameless little smut between Juniper & everyone else.

chapter 2: anakin

NSFW: pure smut

“Not a word out of that pretty little mouth, you understand?” You nodded at his hiss, and you had to bite your lip harshly to stop yourself from crying out as he slid into you, wet and ready. He was standing behind you, and he had your face pushed against the bookstack you two were hiding behind. He had stormed in after a particularly stressful training session with Ahsoka, grabbed your hand, and pulled you around the corner of the nearest shelving. His lips were on yours before you should stop him, and his fingers were fumbling at your shirt.

“There’s people around,” you whispered to him, fearful as you looked toward your desk. There were people wandering not too far on the other side of the hall, but he didn’t care. His hands grabbed at you roughly, and you winced at the cool touch of his metal hand. You hated it when he touched you with those dirty gloves of his, so he had ripped it off when you turned the corner.

“Better be quiet then,” Anakin gasped in your ear, hips thrusting against yours. It was one of the few days you chose to wear a skirt to work, and you were grateful for the decision because he was not known for his patience in pulling down your pants. His own were barely pulled down enough to bare his cock, which was buried into you to the hilt.

You did your best to stay silent, surprised that he managed to do so. He was so much taller than you that you were barely on your tiptoes, and some particularly rough thrusts lifted you off the ground completely. You tapped your finger on the bookstack twice, a silent warning that you were close. He took that as a challenge to try and break you on his cock.

You clenched your jaw as you came, and all the noise that escaped from you was a sharp gasp. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly as he buried his face into your shoulders, releasing deep inside of you. He held you there for a moment, struggling to control his breath, before he helped you straighten out your clothing.

“I’ll see you tonight, June?” he whispered in your ear. You nodded.

“You owe me dinner,” you said. He laughed and kissed you just as roughly as his fuck.

“Whatever you want.”

#the research and outreach archivist #galactic daydreams #smut #drabble #ao3fic #jp oakbrook #archive of our own #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #anakin skywalker #juniper pyke #female reader #beyond the bedroom

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jpoakbrook · 2 years

Text

TECH AND FORTH

NSFW: Smutty as FUCK, boiiiii.

summary: you're a worker at an inter-galactic pleasure house. the bad batch are regulars. this is your 2nd time with tech, but he's emotional today.

You burst into the room with wide, frantic eyes as you took in the scene. The goggled clone was hyperventilating as he clutched his chest, tears streaking down his face. He looked up at you with a look of pure fear and anguish. The girls were all backed away from him, and you motioned for Garnett to step forward. “Give him room and bring him to mine. He’s not dying,” you said firmly.

“Are you sure?” a skinny thing squeaked at you. She was still new here, and it was clear that this would’ve been the first one to die in front of her. As morbid or gruesome as it was, it wasn’t rare for it to happen. Sometimes, the clientele got a little too excited.

“Yes. He’s just having a panic attack and needs to calm down. My room, Garnett, thank you,” you nodded. The bothan male scooped Tech into his arms with ease. Tech was slender but tall, so seeing him curled up in the burly, furry man’s arms was almost comical, especially since he only had on black shorts at this point in the evening. He couldn’t take his liquid chocolate eyes off of you as Garnett carried him out and to your room on the 2nd floor. “Take the night, Marlow,” you said and handed a bundle of credits over to the girl, who nodded.

“Uh, Shira was here, too. I don’t know where she went,” Marlow added.

“Find her and make sure she knows she didn’t kill him. He’ll be fine. I promise,” you said and handed her another stack of money for the other girl. You had forgotten that Tech was a fan of at least 2 girls at a time. He tended to find the most pleasure when he got to see his toys in play, and 1 girl just simply didn’t have enough holes or nerve points for what he wanted to test out.

You left the girl and made your way out to the bar. Madam To’low was standing behind the wooden countertop, pouring drinks into glasses. There was one for you, which she gently pushed across the bartop. It was your favourite, a tall glass of Phattro, and you downed it in one go. Madam To’low’s eyebrows raised with your gulps, and you slammed the drink on the countertop, only for her to fill it up from the pitcher she had ready.

“Gonna be a long night, isn’t it?” she asked as she checked the schedule on her datapad. Your last client had left just minutes before Marlow had pounded on your door, and you were slotted for a midday visitor tomorrow. With Tech in your room, there wasn’t really going to be time to really rest.

“He’s in a bad way. Dunno what’s going on, but I s’pose it’s something to do with Hunter not being here,” you mentioned. You had seen the Marauder when it landed, as you were leading your client into your room, and there was a notable lack of the long-haired leader of Clone Force 99. But then your client gave you those pouty lips that said she wanted all of your attention, and you weren’t able to investigate it further.

“They said he got stuck on the med bay, sent them out here to relax after a mission,” To’low said to you as she handed you a tray with your glass, an empty glass, and a pitcher of Phattro. You nodded in thanks as you took it into your grasp, taking in a deep breath. “You got this, kid,” To’low assured with a smile. You smiled back and nodded, making your way up the stairs to your room.

Your room was one of the larger ones in the House. You had started off in a shared room, then gotten your own small space after your first month, then by the end of the 3rd month, you moved into this room that has been your own for the last 8 years. Your bed had washed out, horizontal, wooden slats for the head and foot boards, and it sat against the left wall. Neatly pressed and tucked in white and grey sheets adorned the top of it. There were 4 large, white sleeping pillows there, none decorative and two on each side. There was a nightstand on both sides of the bed, each hosting a lamp with grey shades. To the left of that, along the wall that the entrance door was on, was a grey sliding door closet. Between the closet and the door was a makeup station of white wood. It was neat and orderly, though there were a couple of scarves you hadn’t put away from your last client sitting on top of it. The mirror was lined with bulbs, but it was turned off at the moment. There was an open area between the bed and the seating area, where you did your morning stretches. The seating area usually had 3 seats of choice: a long couch, a love seat, and an armchair. The armchair was missing today, as you had sent it in for repairs and reupholstering. In the middle of these seats was a coffee table. In the corner beside the long couch was a small, open kitchen, a door there leading to a private ‘fresher. Next to that door, along the right wall, was a fireplace, a TV hanging above it, and it was still left on, playing some soft music from a playlist you had made. The walls were a pleasant pale blue at the top that faded to a dark grey at the bottom. The fireplace was red brick and blazing. Your room was neat, orderly, and surprisingly cozy due to the candles that littered the furniture and the stringed lights that draped around the ceiling.

Tech had been placed on your bed, and he was sitting up with his knees curled up to his chest and his head tucked in his arms. A deep frown pulled at your lips as you set the drinks down on the coffee table and made your way to the clone.

“Tech,” you whisper, your voice gentle and oozing the love you held for the man. It pained you to see him in such a state. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he jumped at your touch. He looked at you with wild eyes, and you frowned before gently pulling his goggles off to rest on the bed beside him. He allows you to, and he stares at you with deep lines around his eyes where his goggles usually sit. You move to sit in front of him, legs dangling off the bed, and he allows you between his spread knees. You gently wipe away his tears and run your hands through his hair in long strokes upward, running to the back of his head, and then back and forth again. Your hands run across the shaved sides of his hair and then through the longer locks on top, and you start to pepper his forehead with light kisses. His eyes closed and he let the feeling wash over him. You don’t say anything until his short, sharp inhales are calmed down to regular breaths with the occasional hiccup.

“Hey, love. How are you?” you coo as he relaxes a little. He opened his sad eyes to look at you, and he shook his head a little.

“Hey, cyare. I’m…” he started before trailing off. You didn’t often see Tech at a loss for words, and you had to say, you didn’t care for it much. You loved how chatty the man was, and he always had a throng of facts for you to learn. Some of these facts you actually applied to some of your other clients, whether it be a distraction or an actual tid-bit that’s relevant to them. Tech was always excited about something he was working on or something he was learning. That brain of his was always craving more and more information. You knew it was part of his mutation, but it seemed like he was more enthusiastic about learning things than some others would’ve been.

“Hey, you don’t have to say anything,” you shushed him, stroking his cheek as you did. He leaned into your touch, raising a hand to lay on yours as he held it closely. He smiled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “C’mon. I need a soak, and I think you could do with one.” You slipped your hand out of his and tugged on one of them for him to follow you. He scooped his goggles into his hand before allowing you to drag him to the ‘fresher.

You had personalised your fresher when you got the big room. It was just a shower, a sink, and a toilet before. Then you broke down the walls, took up a small portion of the room, in order to make room for a massive, corner tub. There were large windows overlooking the scenery and sky above. The view into the refresher through these windows were slightly obscured by plants and bamboo trees that grew along them. There were glass panels that sectioned off a rectangular area next to these plants, also covered with their own vines and flowers to obscure the inner area from the doorway. This was there your open shower was, with the only entrance into the rectangle being a turn from the bathtub. Your toilet sat in its own little corner, blocked off by half-walls and potted plants on top of that. Your vanity sink was a two-fer, and the flat, sink-length mirror above it showed you all of your flaws in the morning. There were candles stationed around the room, but none were lit. The soft glow from paper lantern string lights was enough for the room, as they dangled from the ceiling and along the windows and glass. You didn’t spend much time with people in here as you usually preferred to wind down on your own.

You dropped your robes onto the pale blue rug without ceremony; Tech had seen you naked before (and a lot more than just your naked body). Even through his anxiety, you could see his eyes trace over your body. He scrutinized you with every ounce of calculation he possessed, and you were sure he was thinking about all the different ways he could please you. But today was your turn to please him.

You moved to the tub and started running a hot bath, being sure to add a small amount of lavender and chamomile syrup to the mix. As the scents flowed into the room, you moved back to Tech, taking his hand in yours, and pulling him into your embrace. He didn’t fight the hug. He actually leaned into it, melted into your arms, and his hands grasped at your back tightly. You just held him, stroked the back of his head and his shoulders, and wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t long before you felt his shoulders shaking as he started to cry again. You gripped him tighter. He was clinging to you, but he couldn’t stand anymore. He dropped to his knees in front of you and wrapped his arms around your hips, burying his face into your sternum and abdomen as he sighed heavily. His tears were still flowing, but he seemed to be more relaxed in your grasp.

“C’mon, babe. I need to clean and warm up,” you whispered and tugged on his shoulder. He stood up and let you pull his undershorts down. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, but that wasn’t to say you weren’t pleasantly surprised by it nonetheless. You dropped your robe to the ground, making sure to take his hand in yours again, and helped him into the tub. You knew he loved doing the touching when it came down to it, but you also knew he loved to be touched otherwise. A stroke of his cheek, a brush of his hand, a kiss on his shoulder; he was putty in your hands.

“Were you able to de-stress with the girls at all?” you asked as you reached onto the stand beside the tub and turned on the speakers to mirror the TV you had (accidentally) left on in the bedroom.

“Didn’t get that far,” he muttered. You turned to look at him and sunk down into the water until it covered your shoulders. There was still a bit to go before you would turn off the water; you liked being able to sit up and have the water minimally touch the underside of your breasts.

“Was it related to the girls at all?” you asked. He shook his head. “In relation to performance?” He shook his head fiercely. “Hunter?” That seemed to freeze him. You ran a hand over his thigh, gently, before running it slower and massaging the tension in the muscles there. Your smile was as gentle as your voice as you soothed him. “Hey. It’s okay. Let’s just enjoy the bath, okay?”

He sunk lower into the water to mirror you, his eyes raising to focus on your face. You smiled and lowered a little to take some water in your mouth. He furrowed his eyebrows, lip curling a little. “That is incredibly unhygienic, cyare,” he said. You just smiled and spit the water at him in a strong stream. It hit him square in the face, and he blubbered indignantly, sitting straight up and out of the water while raising a hand to frantically block what he still could. You broke into a giggle, watching him swipe at his face. He looked at you in shock, wondering what the kriff you were thinking, but he couldn’t help but break into a laugh as well. Your giggle was infectious.

“That’s disgusting,” he commented.

“Yeah, but you laughed,” you pointed out. He paused, unable to argue that, and motioned with his hands for you to come to him. You did, moving slowly through the water, and he pulled you into his lap. His hands settled, clasped on your hips, and she took a moment to bask in his grasp. “Hey.” He looked at you with half-closed eyes, exhaustion starting to settle on him as his panic receded. “Let me love you tonight, okay?”

He took in a deep breath and nodded. You smiled.

You moved to straddle his waist, facing him. You reached to the side to turn off the water, and the room was quieter now. Soft music kept it from being silent, and it was relaxing in the lowlight. Your hands moved over the muscles of his abdomen, up over his chest, dancing over his shoulders, and dragging down his arms. He let his head fall back, eyes closing, as he rested it on the edge of the deep tub. You smiled and started to massage the clone. Your fingers beat patterns into his forearms. You massaged tension from his shoulders. You felt him melt beneath your touch.

“Stars, Tech, why are you so beautiful?” you ask softly as he relaxed. He smirked a little and opened his eyes to peer at you curiously. He looked youthful and partnered with his eager knowledge, many mistook him to be naive or innocent. You knew from first hand experience that he was neither. A bit dense sometimes, but he had textbook knowledge of literally anything.

“Because I am a mistake. A deformity,” he responded like it was fact.

“Hmm… A deformity for sure,” you say and narrow your eyes as you scrutinize the man. He grows visibly uncomfortable under your gaze as you seemed to focus on a spot on his forehead. “Only way to explain how stupid you are.”

“I am not stupid!” he bristled beneath you.

“Then don’t call yourself a mistake,” you snap back, eyes narrowed but staring into his hazel hues now. He frowned lightly at that.

“But I am. That’s why I’m part of the Bad Batch. We’re all mistakes,” he explained. You roll your eyes and pinch his cheek. “Ow! Cyare!” He cried as he rubbed the spot, eyebrows knit.

“Don’t want pinches, don’t say stupid shit,” you mutter, and he clamps his lips shut. He definitely didn’t want more pinches. “You’re not a mistake, Tech. If you were, they would’ve gotten rid of you, like they did the defected clones. You were an accident for sure, but not a mistake,” you said with a shake of your head. “And I refuse to sit here and listen to one of my great loves be called a mistake.”

He smirked at that and muttered, “Accidents and mistakes are the same thing.”

“Not to me, they’re not. An accident is something that just… happens without meaning to. A mistake is something you regret. And I can’t imagine ever regretting you, Tech.”

His eyes soften at your words, and he sighed heavily. It was a sigh you were familiar with. Finally, he was going to tell you what was wrong. It was the sigh of someone who decided that holding themselves together wasn’t worth the effort and pain anymore. It was one of your favourite sounds in the world; coming from the batch, it was music.

“I made a mistake, mesh’la,” he whispered. You didn’t say anything, instead turning your attention back to his muscles like you intended to tenderize him with your fingertips. He pressed into your touch, and you worked a particularly nasty knot out of his left shoulder. He closed his eyes again and there was a small hitch in his breathing before he spoke again. “I got Hunter seriously injured.”

“You didn’t hurt him,” you pointed out.

“No, but my incompetence did,” he snarled. He kept his eyes closed, but his eyebrows were knit together now. There was a frown on his lips. “I didn’t do the research necessary for the mission. I thought I had, but there were things I forgot to look up, forgot to memorise. And… Hunter paid for it,” he said. You didn’t say anything, but there must’ve been a look of confusion on your face because he took one look at you before diving into an explanation.

“We were on a mission on a rain forest planet. Our objective was simple: recon on an outpost that was rumoured to be smuggling droids onto civilian-type ships. Easy enough, so we were confused as to why I sent us. I thought I looked everything up that I needed to; the climate, the winds, the foliage, the type of natural predators. I spent the entire prep week and part of the flight there just reading and learning. It is a fascinating planet, cyare. There’s a flower there that blooms only once every 10 years, and only when it’s raining. But when it does, it stays in bloom year round. It’s a gorgeous thing.” There were stars in his eyes as he gushed about the flower. But then they grew dark again. “Anyway… I overlooked something about the landscape. And Hunter got stuck in a patch of fast-sinking metal ore. It looked just like the rest of the charcoal path, but he almost fell through immediately. We were trying to pull him out, but it was like he was dangling in the middle of a tornado; almost impossible. We got caught out there, and it was a firefight while also trying to keep Hunter alive. It’s a miracle we made it out. Echo dug him out as Wrecker pulled, Cross gave them cover fire, and I… I felt useless,” he said.

“But you weren’t,” you said. You knew that he may have been a brilliant strategist and information technician, but you also knew he was fully capable in the field. You were often recanted tales of their missions, and he was nothing short of badass in all of them as well.

“I froze, cyar’ika. I just… I froze. And it took a slap from Wrecker to knock some sense into me,” he said. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and he laughed a little. “Hunter’s orders,” he reassured her. “But for a while, I couldn’t think. All that I could focus on was the fact that I didn’t know about the sinkhole.”

You grabbed a bottle of body wash and poured a little onto your white loofah. The ointment was a pale green, and it smelled like cucumbers and sea salt. You ran it over his body, gently scrubbing the man. He kept talking.

“I just can’t stop thinking about how… maybe if I had been prepared, maybe if I just read more, then maybe Hunter wouldn’t be sitting in a med bay with 4 blaster holes in him and a bruised bottom half,” he sighed. He took the loofah from your hands, to your surprise, and he ran it over your skin. Up and down your arms, across your shoulders, back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm. His eyes were on you, but his mind was lost in memories and pain.

“I can’t stop thinking that… he almost died because I wasn’t ready. I didn’t do the one thing that was supposed to be my specialty. I didn’t do the one thing that makes me different from the others. It’s the one thing that makes me, in your words, an accident rather than a mistake.” He huffed at the thought of it, the loofah making its way over your back and along your spine. Then he moved it to your front, and his hands were gentle as he scrubbed. Despite fondling your breast, there was nothing sexual about his touch. It was a gentle and thorough search to ensure he cleaned every part of your body. It seemed to relax him. It was something he knew he could do. The loofah dipped farther down, travelling down your stomach, and you were a little shocked at the abrupt way he dove it between your legs. “Lift, cyare,” he commanded with a focused gaze. You did as told, and he made sure to clean between your thighs well, cleaning himself while he was down there.

“I… I need to learn more. I need to make sure that nobody else gets hurt because they’re relying on me to do something, something I should’ve been doing, and I didn’t do it correctly,” he finished his little rant, handing you the loofah back. You set it off to the side and started to drain the tub, taking his hand to lead him to the shower. You turned on the water, and it rained down on the two of you from directly above. He seemed to be surprised by the appearance of it. Probably used to the ones that come out of the wall, but you had insisted on an overhead sprinkler like being caught in the rain. He pulled you close, seeking your warmth and the comfort of your skin on his. You smiled and ran your hands over his body, wiping away suds and bath soap. He was so much taller than you, the same height as that lanky sniper, so you motioned for him to stoop just a little. He looked behind him and folded down a bench that folded up and down with chains. He sat down, being the perfect height to look you straight in the chest.

“I don’t know how much more you can learn, Tech,” you said and grabbed your bottle of shampoo. You massaged it into his hair, feeling the soft locks give way beneath your fingers. He leaned into your touch, loving the way you massaged his scalp. “You already know so much, and I hear you do an insane amount of research already.” From the others, but most notably Cross. You had been playing a drunken game of sabacc with the clones, and Cross went on a long rant about how Tech was “all research, no fight”. He had yelled about how he just “needs to kriffin’ do it, stop overthinking so much”. It was pretty amusing at the time. Who knew it would come in handy now?

“Not enough. Not enough to stop them from getting hurt,” Tech pouted and stood up to shampoo your hair for you. You smiled in thanks, and it was oddly intimate for the clone to touch you like this. His lithe fingers worked skillfully through your hair, pulling through the strands with ease. He was concentrating so hard on making sure he was doing it correctly. You couldn’t help but giggle at him. “What?” he asked, but you shook your head and refused to elaborate.

“You can only read so much, bud. You could know every detail of a place, but it’s never going to prepare you for the actual experience,” you said. He narrowed his eyes on you slightly, sure to ask you to explain, so you just did. “I knew this job was going to involve sex. Right? Like, that’s pretty brain-dead. But nobody prepared me for all the different things people like to do. Or the different species I’d meet. Or how I would actually end up listening to people so much.” You shook your head with a little laugh, and he moved on to the conditioner.

“I knew, from that first night, that Madam To’low intended for my specialty to be listening to people’s problems, letting them vent, and maybe offering an encouraging word or two. I knew that was my purpose in this House. I knew exactly what was expected of me… but knowing I was going to listen to people and actually listening to them are two very different things. I can’t imagine that yours is much different than that,” you say as he washes out the conditioner from your hair as well. After your hair and body were clean, you shut the water off, and you stepped out onto a bamboo mat. You offered him a towel, which he wrapped around you, much to your surprise. He dried you carefully, gently, and he allowed you to do the same to him.

“But your job is listening to people. My job is knowing information to keep my brothers and I from dying,” he said after you led him out of the ‘fresher. You motioned for him to sit back on the couch, and he did so as you poured him a glass of Phattro. You grabbed your own and joined him.

“Yeah, that’s true. And that’s something I’ll never be able to understand,” you say, taking a long drink from your glass. You loved this drink, truly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s theory versus practicality. You can be as prepared as you want, Tech, but something’s going to go wrong. You can’t learn everything from a book,” you said.

“But I can learn enough to not put them in danger!” he insisted. You shook your head to him.

“Tech, cyar’ika, listen to me.” You set your glass down and grabbed his face between both hands, smushing his cheeks as you stared him directly in the eye. “You can’t beat yourself up over something that already happened. Okay? And you can’t expect yourself to learn everything going forward. You have to be reasonable. You’re just one person.”

“A person whose sole job it is to know things,” he insisted, though a bit muffled and warped from the smushening. You huffed in irritation and let go.

“Well, if you want to know things, then know that I am annoyed,” you muttered and poured yourself another drink. You stood up and went to your closet, sliding one of the doors open to grab a robe from within. He was still sitting naked while you wrapped yourself up in a pale pink, silk robe. You sat down at your makeup station and brushed your hair, a little rougher than you should’ve, but Tech was being a stubborn osik head. He appeared behind you silently, and his hands rested on your shoulders as he bent down to kiss your cheek. You started at him through the mirror, only partially irritated now.

“You’re right,” he whispered, and you knew how hard he had to bite down on that pride of his to say so. “I’m sorry.”

You turned in your seat to look at him, a faux glare on your face as you crossed your arms. “Right about what?” you demanded. He sighed and sat on the bed behind you, leaning back on his elbows.

“I… I can’t expect to learn everything about a mission before we go. That’s ridiculous. That’s just… me being unreasonable,” he said slowly. “You’re right that I have to accept that the mission is over and thinking about what I could’ve done is doing nothing but driving me crazy.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he held a hand up. “And I know, you’re right. You’re right that I should go easier on myself and not expect so much, especially since the others think I’m doing a fine job. And Hunter isn’t even mad at me.” You nodded and went to speak again, but he just kept going. “And yes, I know that I do tend to take these intellectual failures harder than any other ones, especially when it results in an injury. So I will do better about not beating myself up over it.”

You weren’t going to say so much, but he did the talking for you, so you weren’t going to complain.

“Did I… did I get it right?” he asked, his voice small and searching for approval. How could you stay aggravated when he sounded like that and looked at you with those puppy dog eyes of his? You smiled and nodded, standing up to crawl onto him on the bed. You nudged his legs with yours, and he moved to lay on the bed properly.

“You did. And now, you get a reward,” you muttered as you straddled him. His mood shifted from seeking approval to excitement at a surprise yet to come. Your lips started at his earlobe, your teeth nibbling gently, as your tongue traced over the soft skin. He was immediately captivated. Your lips kissed a path from his earlobe, over his jawline, up from his chin, before finally taking his lips with yours.

His cock twitched beneath you.

You started off slowly, a gentle press of lip to lip, before letting that melt into a capture of his lower lip between your teeth. The nibble was gentle, teasing, before you kissed him again, this time with your tongue knocking and asking for a dance partner. He was happy to oblige, his fingers finding home on your hips. Your tongues danced while you ground against his cock that was growing between your thighs. You could feel your slickness growing, rubbing against his soft skin. As your heat grew, so did his erection.

You pulled away from his kiss, making him whine though it quickly turned into a gasp when your teeth found his neck. Your bites were a little more on the rough side of gentle. His hands made quick work of taking off the robe you had just thrown on. You smiled and shrugged it off, tossing it over the edge to the ground. He smiled and went to sit up, but a firm hand on his chest kept him laying down. His eyebrows rose.

“You’re getting a treat for learning, Tech. Learning that you can’t do everything. So, now, you get to do nothing,” you whisper. He seems confused, his head tilting to the side in that quizzical look you loved on him. You smiled and explained the rules as you moved his hands from your hips and to his sides. “You don’t get to touch me, or I stop and start over. You don’t get to buck beneath me, or I stop and start over. You don’t get to move, or I stop and start over. Understand?”

“I don’t like this game,” he muttered.

“No, I’m sure you don’t. But you have to learn to be okay with not being in control,” you say and press a kiss to his forehead. “Do you understand the rules?” you ask again.

“Yes, I do,” he muttered, clearly disgruntled. You laugh. You don’t care.

Your lips find his collarbone, placing kisses there that start at the top of his sternum and go to his shoulder, before you drag your tongue back along the path. Tech watches you with hungry eyes. Your kisses travel down his chest, stopping at his left nipple. You tease it with your tongue, swirling around it before taking it into your mouth to suck just a little too hard. He hissed in pleasure, back arching to push his chest against you. You stop your movements and raise an eyebrow as you looked at him. He looked at you in surprise.

“You know the rules, Tech,” you admonished him softly.

“Even that?” he asked in shock. You smile and nod, moving back to his ear. This time, you spend a little more time on his neck. He grabs your hips instinctively. You stop and lightly correct him again. By the time you start at his earlobe again, you can feel his cock throbbing beneath you. You make it past his nipples this time. He lets out the smallest squirm as you kiss his hip bones. He inhales sharply when he realises his mistake, and his fear is so cute that you pretend not to notice the squirm. As you continue your path, he sighs in relief. It doesn’t last long. Your kisses and tongue tease the insides of his thighs. His eyes are squeezed shut as he focuses on not moving. You smile and sit up.

“I think we can call that a check point, yeah?” you ask.

“Stars, please,” he begged. You smile and stand up, telling him not to move an inch as you go to grab your drinks. You allow him to sit up and down his glass as you slowly sip yours. You watch him carefully, drinking in every edge and curve of the man, and he is almost impatient in getting started again.

“Lay back,” you order. He complies immediately, but this time, you kneel between his legs, spreading them with your knees. He watches you, pupils blown.

“Remember the rules,” you warn him with a little smile before placing your first kiss just above his cock. It twitched in response. You smile as you go along, placing kisses all around his cock but not touching it. Your lips trail down the inside of his left thigh, and the first bite makes him gasp and buck. You smile and pull back. He quickly lay still again, and your kisses started at the bottom of his stomach once more. He is more prepared for the bites on his thighs this time, but he still has minor flinches now and again that you conveniently don’t notice.

After he was achingly hard, after you could see the torment on the poor boy’s face, you decide to get to where he needed to be touched the most. Your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, and he sucks air in through his teeth. He was watching you now, anticipation drumming in his chest with every moment that passes. You gave it an experimental lick, and he doesn’t move. You swirl your tongue around it, and he groans but doesn’t move.

“Very good, cyar’ika,” you praise him with a smile. He smiles back, but it’s strained. He needs a release. You slowly slip his head between your lips, keeping your tongue active on the underside of his cock, and he raises his hands to grab your head. You cock an eyebrow at him, not moving, and he remembers rule #1. He presses the back of a fist to his lips, and the other hand grabs a fistful of your sheets. You smile to yourself and slowly move down his cock a little. He groans and partially moves to sit up before falling back on the bed. He didn’t buck, though, so you knew he remembered the rules well. You decided to have a little fun.

Every time you moved down on his cock, you pulled back up to the tip, going back down to where you were, and you did this three times before going down a little more. He bucked only once, when you were about halfway down his shaft, and he was gasping for breath when you went back to kissing his thighs. He learned quickly, and he did his absolute best to not move his hips beneath you. You finally rewarded him by sliding all the way down his shaft until you were kissing the base of his cock. He cried out in pleasure at the slow way you moved, and you infuriatingly slowly bobbed on his cock.

“Fuck, mesh’la, please.” He was almost sobbing at this point. You smiled wickedly and moved faster. His legs were active, bending and straightening, but he didn’t buck. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t move from his spot. He was being so good. You wrapped your hand around his cock and rubbed him as you pulled off to speak.

“Think you’ll be able to cum with these rules?” you ask.

“Fuck, elek,” he groaned in desperation. You smiled and nodded.

“Good.” Your lips replace your hand, and you attack him with a passion. Your lips squeeze around him, your tongue dancing on the underside, and your throat accepting his length with ease.

“Cyare,” he warned. You tapped twice on his thigh as an okay, and he hissed a moment. You felt his shaft harden, his balls tighten, and he cried out as he came. He did astoundingly well to not buck beneath you. You forgave the small movements he made. You drank his seed down, loving the way the salty splashes took on the fruity flavour of the Phattro. You chose the drink because it was your favourite, but also for it’s fast acting effects on such things. You knew you were going to suck Tech off tonight.

“Cyare, please,” he panted. You raised your eyebrows as you drank more alcohol. Your head was starting to feel muddied and, partnered with your excitement, you were burning hot. You looked back at him, and he was still fully erect. Your eyes widened.

“Fuck, Tech, still? Guess you get your pick then,” you say, curious as to which one he’ll choose. He smiled and quickly knelt, pulling you to him and kissing you deeply. You love the way his taste mingled with the drink. You were left wanting more when he broke the kiss away, and he turned you to face away from him. He pushed down on your upper back, and you smiled as you assumed one of your favourite positions. He lowered you down to rest on your forearms before kissing a line down your spine. You didn’t stop the moan that dragged from your lips. His hands moved underneath you to grope the breasts you denied him from touching, fingers pinching your nipples harshly. You hissed at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

His hands moved to grab your hips, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. One hand guided his cock to your entrance, and you were so ready for him that he sunk in to the hilt with ease. You moaned at the way he filled you, and your eyes rolled back at the feeling. He didn’t have any toys with him today, but you didn’t mind. You always wondered what he would do without them. Now you knew. He started to move slowly at first, teasing you the same way you did him. He dragged out slowly and sunk back in just as slow. It was infuriating, and you were wiggling your hips to demand more.

“Easy, cyare,” he hissed, sensitive still. You took in a deep breath, which was released in a gasp when he thrust into you suddenly very harshly. His grunts of effort accentuated each of his hard thrusts, and you cry out in response. He slips a hand beneath you, and you’re not sure what he’s aiming for since he’s very much missed your clit. But he pushes up on your abdomen, and suddenly you can very much feel him inside of you.

“T-Tech?!” you cry out, and he just chuckles lowly in your ear. He’s now bent over you, his chest pressed against your back, his lips on your ear, as he holds you closely. It’s like you denied him touch, so now all he wants to do is touch you.

“Do you like that?” he asked, but he knew the answer. His fingers press up in a specific spot, and he tilts his hips just slightly to thrust in just right. You’re seeing stars; you can’t find your breath. He chuckles in your ear again.

“I’m not going to hold on much longer, mesh’la. Join me,” he mutters as he licks your earlobe. You nod, eyes squeezing shut as your mouth drops open. He smiles, his own eyes closing, as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His thrusts become more erratic, and you can feel he’s dancing closer and closer to the edge. He presses up on your abdomen, and you are falling off the edge.

His name fumbles on your lips as you see white light. Your body convulses and shakes around his cock, and you haven’t felt such a sweep of warmth through your body before. Your orgasm sends waves of sparks through your veins, all brought on by his cock and a well placed hand. As you squeeze around his cock, Tech gasps and cries out in your ear, and you feel him cum deep inside of you. His thrusts are spastic, and he finally buries himself in deeply. He holds himself there a moment before collapsing on you. You love the weight and heat of his body on yours.

His hands travel up your arms, his fingers tangling with yours, and after he’s caught his breath, his lips are on yours. After a kiss, you look into his eyes and see a relaxed Tech, at ease in your arms… well, on top of you, anyway. He pulls his softening cock out of you and moves to lay beside you.

“I have to go clean up,” you say when he tries to pull you into a hug. He carries you to the ‘fresher, and you’re always amazed at the lithe clone’s strength. He carried you back to bed, as well, and he finally pulled you to him when you turned the lights into sleep mode. He ran his fingers through your hair, stroking the silk strands he loved so much, and he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You loved it when he spoke Mando’a to you. All of the clones, not just the Batch, usually did after sex, and it became one of your favourite comforts in this universe.

“Thanks for helping me learn tonight,” Tech whispered in your ear. You smiled and pressed a kiss to a spot on his chest in front of your face, moving back to resting your head there. You had a hand stroking his belly as he talked. “I… I appreciate you comforting me.”

“Thanks for the orgasm,” you mutter in reply. He laughed and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you, mesh’la. Sleep well,” he whispered, his Mando’a slurring as he started fading off to sleep.

“I love you, too, Tech. See you in the morning,” you whispered in response and made sure your alarm was set before letting yourself drift off to sleep in his arms.

#madam to'low's house #galactic daydreams #ao3fic #jp oakbrook #archive of our own #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #the clones #the bad batch #bad batch #clone force 99 #tech #angst #fluff #smut #emotions #anxiety

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jpoakbrook · 2 years

Text

BENEATH THE COLLAR

chapter 3: neyo

NSFW: first fuck with Neyo

summary: Throwback to when you first met Neyo and the first evening that led to your long relationship with the commander.

(pt 1 of your backstory with Neyo!)

"Must they be so karkin' loud?" Neyo snarled as he sipped his drink with tight lips. His breath was deep and forceful as he tried to calm himself down. He didn't know why you were able to crawl under his skin as easily as you did. It was effortless. Maybe it was with the cool regard you held whenever he approached you in a professional manner, like he was just a minor inconvenience to you (and he was). Maybe it was how you always seemed to have the answer to everything. Maybe it was your snarky quip after he introduced himself when Mace Windu informed him that the 91st made their home in C Base.

"Marshal Commander, CC-8826," he had said without ceremony. It was his title and his designation. He didn’t like talking much, so when he was forced to, he liked to get the core information out immediately. Your left eyebrow raised at him, the right lowered, and he saw the ghost of a smirk on your face as you crossed your arms.

"Well, that's certainly a mouthful, isn't it?"

He was thankful for the helmet and its dark visor so you couldn't see the snarl on his lip. Even if the glass was clear, his helmet was special like the rest of the 91st; they only had the eyeglasses part of their helmets, the rest closed off to look sleek and private. General Windu had just laughed at that, clapping you on the shoulder. "His name's Neyo. Please don't piss him off. I actually like you without blaster holes," he said.

"Of course, Master Windu. I'll do my best to remain intact," you said without looking away from Neyo. He was rolling his metallic eyes, but you couldn't see that either.

Every interaction with him after that point had been sass on both sides. And neither of you liked that, so it was always followed up with a flare of temper. Unfortunately, you were both stubborn, sarcastic, and set in your ways. You both had secret tempers that were easy to hide from everyone else. And maybe it was those similarities that made you both seethe with tension.

"We are at a club, Neyo," Bacara pointed out with a sip of his drink. He had his eyes trained on one of the Hospitality Assistants he had seen walking around K Base. She gave him a shy smile paired with a blush and a wiggle of her fingers. He didn't smile back, just raised his chin as he stared at her with hungry eyes. He wondered if she could live up to the impossibly high standards he held on the battlefield and the bedroom. He doubted it, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

"And they still manage to be the loudest things here. What's that tellin' ya?" Neyo hissed. Bacara never heard him talk as much as he did when it was to complain about you. He leaned back in his chair and drummed the fingers of his left hand on the tabletop. He sipped his drink again, but his scowl only deepened as the crowd laughed again. He took in a deep breath, trying to ignore the group the best he could. He knew you were in there somewhere because he heard your laugh. You sounded different outside of work; there was an almost carefree and challenging tone to your voice as if you weren’t afraid to be overheard. What drew the line in Neyo’s sand was when a member of your crowd got a little too rowdy and bumped into the Commander. He stood up with a jolt, shoving the man back and pushing through the crowd. Bacara let him go, instead turning his attention to the shy girl who was approaching to speak to him.

“Do you mind?!” Neyo demanded, shoving through to the corner table where you were sat. It was a large table, and there were cards strewn across the top of it. There were 6 of you seated at the table, and at least a dozen people hanging around as another dozen danced and chatted nearby. Most of the crowd were clones and their found partners, but there were a few HLs there. Neyo noted that all of the players seated at the table were, in fact, HL: 0-A’s. He was still too angry to even register the fact you were out of your work clothes.

“Neyo! Won’t you join us for a hand, Commander?” you asked. The question would’ve been sarcastic if you had said it to him during work hours, and he could practically hear how you would sneer it at him. But he was shocked at the warmth in your tone, the laughter that followed it, and the smile on your face. He had never seen you smile like that. Your cheeks pushed your eyes upward, and you seemed to almost glow. Your hair was down and framing your face, long locks that went to your elbows. And that’s when he noticed you were out of your work uniform. And you looked good. You wore a black tank top that tucked into high waisted, bright orange shorts. These shorts seemed to only cover the necessary bits because he was able to run his gaze down your legs and to your sandals. But the outfit wasn’t what interested him. What interested him were the sleeves of tattoos that covered your surprisingly tanned skin from your ankles to your wrists to your collar bones. There were so many. He could see them on your chest, and he was sure they were on your back as well.

“Like what you see?” You teased him as your grin turned into a smug smirk. He broke his trance and scowled at you, and you only laughed. “Seriously. Have a seat. Bacara is busy anyway, so you may as well make yourself at home.” He looked over and saw the shy girl sitting in Bacara’s lap, whispering in his ear as he gauged whether or not to be impressed by her. Neyo didn’t want to return to that, but he also didn’t want to sit with a bunch of Hospitality Leads. “I promise it’ll be fun. We’re off duty,” you convinced him and scooted over, making room for him on the outside seat of the right side of the booth. It was a curved booth, making it easy for them to play cards.

“Do you want to play?” you asked him, but he shook his head. “Sorry if we got a little loud, Neyo. Our schedules usually don’t work out this well, and we ended up celebrating a little too hard.” Your words weren’t slurred… yet. He could sense you were well on your way, and a server brought them another round of drinks.

“Oh! Let me introduce you. Everyone, this is Marshal Commander Neyo, of the 91st, and he’s on C Base. Neyo, these are HLs: Y, P, E, K, and I0-A,” you said and motioned around the table in a clockwise manner. He nodded to them curtly, a scowl still on his face.

“Can I get you a drink, commander?” P0-A asked. He shook his head.

“Nonsense! You’ve gotta drink. It’s a celebration!” you said with a giggle, raising 2 fingers to the server, who nodded and rushed off to get them for you.

“What are we celebrating?” he asked, cursing to himself. He couldn’t help but be intrigued. You were so different now. Not just the outfit, but the warmth that seemed to flow naturally from you drew him in. He wanted to find out why you seemed so happy and relaxed now. He was sure it had everything to do with being off-duty, but it was a night and day difference.

“Celebrating you coming to drink with us on our day off, of course!” she said with a giggle, nudging him. He wasn’t sure how to respond to the contact but tensed slightly at the impact. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.

“I didn’t know it was your day off,” he responded.

“You’re telling me you don’t keep tabs on your favourite HL?” you teased, a glimmer in your glossy eyes. The cards were dealt, and you turned your back to him slightly so the person to your right couldn’t see your cards. He looked over your shoulder at your hand, lips pursing. It was a pretty shit hand.

“No. I do not. You are not my favourite,” he added quickly. Despite how clipped his words were, you knew he didn’t mean it. And it brought a grin to your face that he would later describe to Bacara as “wicked”.

“I don’t suppose there’s a couple things I could do to change your mind?”

Neyo cleared his throat as he watched you run your eyes over him, carefully and slowly, and the table was breaking into giggles. He forced the heat away from his cheeks, but he couldn’t stop the burn in his chest or the tingles down his fingers. He didn’t say anything, just looked away, and you mercifully moved your gaze off of him and to your cards.

“5 creds,” you upped your bet with a casual toss of your money into the center of the table. Neyo was as expressionless as ever, thankfully, because the others seemed to shift a little in their seats. They were watching both of you for any sign of your hand, but you worked too hard at your split personality to be caught at a game like this. Your work face was on, even if your work personality was not. “You don’t have to say it in front of them. I know you don’t want to hurt their feelings,” you teased Neyo, looking at him once your raise was matched.

“I can be your favourite, Commander,” HL: I0-A said from across the table, her big blue eyes trailing over him as she licked her lips. They all burst into laughter, but Neyo was unphased. She didn’t impress him. Not many did.

“Honey, maybe you’re not his type,” HL: P0-A said, his eyes glimmering as he raised an eyebrow at Neyo. There were giggles again, but they were all looking at him in expectation, wondering how he would respond. He was certainly uncomfortable, and you seemed to notice.

“Hurry up and fold, Henrick, or I’m going to make you fold,” you said to P0-A, who just rolled his eyes with a huff.

“So impatient, this one! Okay, fine, I’ll match,” he said and threw 5 credits down. “And I’m raising,” he said and tossed another 10. There were “ooh”s from around the table. It was down to 3 of you now. You, P0-A, and K0-A. You all looked at each other, and for the moment, nobody was looking at Neyo. He almost sighed in relief at that.

“Match,” K said and tossed her credits in before looking to you.

“Match,” you responded before adding another 5, “and raise.”

The air grew tense. You didn’t usually bet so much money. You were known to be generous with showering your friends with drinks and food, but you were also known to be stingy when it came to receiving money, especially when it came to gambling.

“Understand what’s happening, Commander?” a soft voice started Neyo as he looked at the woman who appeared at his side. Asli had her eyes focused on the card game, and she leaned on the booth just a little to talk into his ear.

“Gambling,” he responded as if it was obvious.

“You just look a little confused is all,” Asli said with a giggle. She hadn’t been too surprised to see Bacara and Neyo show up together; it was the lack of Wolffe with them that made her eyebrow raise. She was even less surprised to see Neyo beside you at this point in the night. Asli had been teasing you nonstop about the way you unraveled in front of Neyo, so it was a relief that you were getting that much closer to just fucking and getting it over with.

“Not confused,” Neyo responded gruffly. “Just… curious,” he admitted in a moment of honesty.

“She’s a force to be reckoned with,” Asli agreed with a chuckle. She watched his face carefully for any indication of how he could be feeling. If there was an outsider who could read Neyo, Asli would be the one to do it; her entire speciality revolved around her ability to read and communicate with others. Her network of resources spread their tendrils far throughout the galaxy, some of them not technically legal, and she couldn’t have gotten that far without the ability to interpret an eye twitch or half smile.

The pot was up 10 more credits from when you raised it, and you matched the bet with ease. Everything you did in this game was with the same boundless confidence and neutral gaze. You kept it when you won, you kept it when you lost. It was hard to read your expression because, really, there was none.

K0-A folded out with grace, not wanting to put a total of 65 credits down on this hand. She bowed out after 45. You stared P0-A down as he weighed his options. You decided to sweeten the deal. “Let’s add a little more to the pot,” you said, leaning forward.

“You’re going to spend more money?” Henrick asked, curious. He had never seen you go past 100 credits total, but he had a feeling you would if the mood struck correctly.

“No. Let’s say, if you win, I have to cover your on-call tomorrow so you can have another day off,” you said with a grin. That brought an “ooh” around the table and from the watchers closest to them.

“And if you win?” P0-A asked, his confidence starting to soar as he thought about sleeping in for a whole ‘nother day.

“If I win,” you said and gave him a bone-chilling grin. Your eyes were hungry. You craved blood. “Then you have to get on your knees right here, right now, and lick Commander Neyo’s boot clean.” The howls of laughter paired with the violent blush that flushed P0-A’s cheek was too much for Neyo. He smirked.

“I’m sorry. I’m down to get dirty, but I’m not a foot guy. I’m out,” P0-A said and tossed his cards face down on the table. You broke into a grin and started herding the pile of credits toward you when I0-A flipped your cards over from beside you.

“What a shit fucking hand,” she remarked with a laugh, and P0-A groaned as his hand was turned over. It wasn’t bad. It was, in fact, decently good. They started teasing him mercilessly about the bet, and he was covering his face in shame. You smiled at Neyo and gave him the quickest blink of a wink.

“Hey, you ready to head out?” Asli asked you, head motioning to the front door.

“Oh! Yeah. I thought you were meeting with… What’s his name? George?”

“Geode, and he’s not here. I guess I’ve been stood up,” she said with a sigh. Neyo wondered who would stand Asli up, but it wasn’t in his place to ask. He felt you tense beside him. Your gaze and trained on Asli’s face, and there was the smallest of wrinkles between your eyebrows.

“You know, Asli,” Neyo interrupted quickly. His heart was beating quickly; he wanted to help you, and that meant stepping out of his comfort zone. Both pairs of eyes turned on him, and he could feel the same scrutiny from you both. “Bacara is my mate, and I’ll bet he’d be way better than someone named Geode,” Neyo offered and motioned to Bacara, who had sent the HA girl away at some point and was drinking on his own.

Asli looked at the severe clone and raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t given much thought to most of the commanders since they all seemed a bit uptight or standoffish for her liking. Bacara wasn't chatty, but she had heard from plenty that he was an impossibly difficult person to please. He sent HAs away like flies, opting to make his own bed since the way they tended to do it was unsatisfactory. She always wondered what it would take to please him. She nodded to Neyo in acceptance, who led the two over to the table Bacara still remained at.

"Commander," you greeted him with a smile, having been introduced to him a few days ago. You seemed to get along well with him since you both liked teasing Neyo, and he admired the way you ran your crew.

"Captain," he responded with a smirk as he sipped his drink. Neyo had heard about your little bet with Rex the other day, and he wondered how long they would keep up the joke. He cleared his throat and stepped aside to present Asli, the sight of whom made Bacara sit up straighter in his seat.

"This is-" Neyo started to introduce her, but she interrupted him.

"HL: C0-B, Asli Jev'arik, communications specialist," she said with a gush of confidence, her hand outstretched to him. It wasn't for him to shake. It was unmistakably for him to kiss. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, and he did as prompted. Asli took the seat across from him, legs crossing with ease, and you knew her routine at getting to know a target.

Hook.

"Marshal Commander, CC-1138. Most call me Bacara," he responded with a nod to her. She commanded his attention; he gave it freely. Her lips curled into a smile, and you knew exactly what was coming next.

"And you can call me... on this line," she said and ran a finger up his hand and to the commlink on his left arm. You watched a blush rise to his cheeks as she stuck the tip of her tongue out from between her lips, her fingers popping open the comm to add her number in there. She trained her eyes on Bacara, and you saw his pupils dilate.

Line.

"Call you? Is that to say you're already leaving? The night is young, and we've only just met," Bacara persuaded her, clasping his hands on the tabletop as he leaned forward. She smiled and leaned back in her chair.

"I meant for the next night we spend together," she said with a small flick of her head, sending her curls over her shoulder. Bacara swallowed. Hard.

Sinker.

"Let's go," you whispered to Neyo and nudged his arm. He followed you away, and neither of the pair looked at you as you left. You led him out into the night, and you both breathed a bit easier outside of the club. A peaceful chill settled on you, and your shoulders relaxed from your usual social tension.

"Man, crowded in there," you groaned as you stretched your arms up over your head.

"You seemed to like it," he said before offering you his arm. You looked at him with knit eyebrows, unable to figure him out, but you took his arm anyways. Your wrist tucked into the crook of his elbow, and your hand gently grasped his forearm. Your fingers slid against the cool plastoid; most of the clones stayed in uniform at 79's, whether that be a staff uniform or armor.

"I like hanging out with friends, blowing off steam, but I don't like crowds, the music is always too loud, and it's far too busy in there to actually relax," you said with a shrug. You were walking down the street, heading to the ship docks. "I normally don't like spending my day off at a place like this, but Asli has her day off tomorrow, so I agreed. I'm on call tomorrow," you explained.

"Do you need a ride home? I'm sure Bacara will bring Asli home… eventually," Neyo added with a small smirk. You laughed and nodded, so he took you to the small sloop he took to get here with the other Marshal Commander.

You sat in the copilot seat as he took you back to Kamino, and it was quiet for a long while. But then he got curious about you, and he had to ask questions.

"So, is that why you dress like you do at work?" He asked, motioning to your arms and legs. You looked down at the ink and laughed, nodding.

"Yeah, I joined the HA when it was still in the first years. They had a strict rule about tattoos that didn't have to do with your race, culture, or religion. The rules changed a couple years later, but I got used to covering them up. Plus, it makes me look a lot more mysterious, which is always a bonus," you added with a small shrug.

"Do they know you have tattoos?" He asked in general.

"Most people I regularly work with, yes. I don't tend to show the people staying on base. I like to keep my relationship with them strictly professional, and if I'm not drinking with them on a night off, they don't need to see my tattoos."

"Aren't they part of who you are?" He asked. Why else would she get them? His tattoo was his designation, who he was, and set him apart from his brothers. Why wouldn't she be proud of them? Her smile was tight, and he could literally feel her mood slipping.

"It's… complicated," she sighed. They fell silent again, and she stared out her window while nibbling on her lips.

When they landed, he walked her to her apartment. She had insisted she would be fine, but he was quiet and cold, not rude. "Thanks for keeping me company tonight, Neyo. I had fun," you said with a smile at him when you got to your door.

He nodded curtly. "Good night," he said simply. He was abrupt. You were embarrassed; you showed so much more emotion than anticipated, and he couldn't have been less interested.

You slipped into your apartment and sighed heavily as you sunk into your couch. Your bones were weary, and your eyes heavy. You were just about to drift off to sleep, but your comm blinked, and you groaned to yourself. It was your day off, but you were the HL: C0-A. Raising your arm with a groan, you tapped a button on your bracer, and a clone popped up. He was sitting down, you assumed at a table since he looked like his arms were up on the tabletop. The tattoo under his left eye made you break into a grin.

"Miss me already?" You asked, teasing as you sat up.

"I wanted to tell you that I also had fun. Despite myself," he grumbled. You giggled and nodded, carrying him to your bedroom, but your eyes never left his hologram. He rubbed the back of his neck, and he was struggling to find the words. "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with, and I'm sure you didn't want to actually spend your only night off with a grump like me. But I appreciated your company nonetheless," he said and nodded firmly.

"I had my reservations at first, but… well, Commander, you're fun to be around," you admitted. It was true. You did end up enjoying his company, despite how you thought it would go. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little worried about the way he would react to seeing you outside of work the first time.

"I think everyone else in the GAR would beg to differ," he scoffed with a small roll of his eyes.

"What do they know?" You responded, pressing a couple buttons to turn your holovid recording off. You started to undress and get ready for bed.

"Hey, uh," he started to say, but you cut him off.

"No! They're wrong. They should try and get to know you before they chat shit," you said, shrugging out of your shorts. The drink made you a little grumpier and a little more stubborn. Hearing him say that, knowing how nice he was off-duty… well, it made you upset.

"C0-A," he said, trying to interrupt.

"I mean, yeah, sure, you could also stand to be a little friendlier, but it's not like you were rude to me tonight. So it's on them-"

"C0-A, you didn't close your holoprojection!" He suddenly interrupted with a little crack in his shout as you dropped your bra to the ground. Your head snapped to your comm bracer and you noticed the small light in the corner still indicating you were projecting.

"Fuck," you whispered and quickly shut it off. He had a deep blush on his cheeks, coloured even through the blue hologram.

"Good night," he said quickly and hung up. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you stared at your wrist with wide eyes for a long while.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered and quickly threw on a t-shirt and underwear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You crawled into bed and set your commlink on the nightstand, staring out into the darkness with a heavy dread in your stomach.

“Fuck.”

~ * ~

You spent the night tossing and turning, and you spent the morning pacing around your apartment. You prayed there would be no reason for you to see him, and aside from a few calls, there was no reason for you to even leave your apartment. You still felt terrible, and you weren’t sure what to say. You were embarrassed, you were mortified, you were downright ashamed that you made such a mistake and…

Your fingers were flying over your commlink as you sent him a message. “I’m so sorry. Can we talk about what happened?” You breathed a little, anxiety dancing in your chest, and your comm beeped. You checked it, and it was just coordinates. But he messaged you back, and that was a step in the right direction. You wore your grey jumpsuit but with the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and you headed to the coordinates. They led you to the far side of C base, between C9 and C1, where lifts brought shooters out to sniper posts. They were small rooms with a table and 4 chairs, a couch, a fridge, and ammo chests, the upper walls being cut out to allow for snipers to shoot in any direction to the plethora of targets jutting out of the water. They were spread out pretty far from each other, and you needed binoculars in order to see the faces of the next nest.

You jumped on a lift and nervously nibbled on your lip, fingers picking at your nails, and foot shaking in the air as it brought you out toward the last nest in one of the lines. Nearly 2km out from the base, it was a relatively slow ride out there, and the anxiety of it all drove you insane. You were a nervous wreck by the time you got out there, and it was beginning to lightly sprinkle. You were starting to get wet when you got close enough to spot the sniper in the nest. He was in his armor, as usual, and the red circles on his plastoids seemed to glare at you as you approached. He stopped what he was doing as you got closer, and he offered you his hand in help when your lift stopped at the nest. You took it with a small blush, and he pulled you under the roof of the building just as the rain started to pick up.

“Hey,” you breathed with a shy smile. It was the first time in a long time that you felt shy, and it was a foregin feeling. He had his helmet on, and you knew he was looking in your general direction. The mask was just a small visor, the rest closed off, and it somehow seemed a lot more impersonal than all the other standard Clone helmets. At least their T-visors looked a little like a weird face. This was just… a gaze. You cleared your throat and shook your head quickly. Your hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and the top layer was damp from the rain. “I just wanted to apologise for last night,” you said with a very strong grimace. “I meant to turn off my projection, and I didn’t think to check to make sure since I do that a million times a day.”

His head cocked just a little, and you quickly burst, “Not accidentally show myself to others! I holovid a million times a day. I don’t accidentally strip for others a million… times… a day.” Your voice trailed off as a fresh sheet of awkwardness and horror fell over you. You wanted to jump into the ocean and never return to the surface world. Your life was among the merfolk and deep sea creatures. Good bye, sky.

Neyo laughed.

In honesty, you didn’t know he was capable of the noise. You had seen him smirk, what, twice now? You had heard him exhale sharply in amusement. You had even seen his shoulders silently shake once. But this was a full blown chortle that shook his entire body. It sounded deep and booming, despite being filtered through his helmet, and he pulled off the bucket to see you face to face.

You couldn’t help but stare. His mouth, usually pursed in a thin line, was split open to the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. His gaunt cheeks were pushed up. His eyes--those cold, calculating eyes that seemed to watch every move you made as if looking for a weakness--were filled with warmth and joy. They were crinkled in the corners, and he even moved to wipe a tear away from one.

“Hey!” you pouted indignantly, definitely exaggerating your scowl as you rested your fists on your hips.

“I’m sorry. It’s just so easy. Standing here, letting you dig a deeper hole,” he said through his laughter. You narrowed your eyes on him and stepped forward to smack his chest lightly. That made him laugh harder, and he moved to sit on the ledge of the room, putting his helmet on the table before he crossed his arms and looked at you.

“So?” you asked, pressing for him to accept your apology.

“What?” he challenged. You rolled your eyes with a little growl. Your embarrassment was quickly being replaced with annoyance… but there was still plenty of the former lurking in your chest.

“So I’m sorry,” you said again.

“I heard you the first time.”

“And you forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

You huffed and stepped toward him, eyebrows furrowed. He had such a calm look on his face, and you wanted to shove him over the railing. See how smug he looked then. You saw his eyes barely flick over your body once, and it was as if a lightbulb popped into your head. Neyo saw that wicked grin once again.

“So… if you don’t forgive me yet,” you said slowly and stepped in front of him. He didn’t move, but you heard his breath catch. “Then maybe there’s something I can do to speed up the process?” Your lower body pressed against his, your fingers moving to dance along his arms. He uncrossed them, and you moved his hands to your hips before letting your fingers return to his chest piece. You looked up at his eyes, expecting ice, and instead catching fire. You gasped softly.

“I suppose there’s a way,” he muttered lowly, his hands kneading your sides as he slowly pulled the rest of you against him. A smile took your lips before he leaned down to claim them with his own.

You were expecting a chaste kiss, as hungry as you both felt, but his lips were surprisingly soft and warm. It was as if he was scared to kiss you at first. But then your arms moved to drape over his shoulders, and that seemed to unlock the floodgates. His kiss deepened, his lips firm as he took what he wanted. His arms circled your waist and crushed you against him. Your tongue prodded politely at his lips, and he graciously accepted your invitation, his own moving to greet yours. His tongue danced in your mouth, dragging against yours and bringing the two back and forth like the waves that crashed against your sniper’s nest. The rain was coming down hard now, but neither of you noticed.

“Off,” you demanded petulantly as you broke the kiss, tugging at his various armour pieces. He grinned at you and kissed you once.

“P0-A was right. You are so impatient,” he teased but started at the plastoid pieces. You rolled your eyes and proved he was right by helping the clone with his armour. You moved carefully, gently, and with a practiced ease. He raised an eyebrow at your expertise at taking off the pieces, but he didn’t voice his question. No need to ruin a good time.

Once they were off, you were greeted with the sight of him in his skin-tight black suit. You licked your lips as you very hurriedly yanked his pants down. He laughed at your confidence, but his laugh cut off once you took his cock in hand. He let it fade away into a small gasp and almost inaudible moan, stepping out of his blacks and underwear as you stroked him gently. You were staring up at him, gauging his reaction. You wanted to please him. You realised with a gentle start that, more than anything right now, you wanted to make him happy and see him fulfilled. And if that meant you got filled, so be it.

Your tongue teased the hole that gave you his pre-cum, lapping at the treat like ice cream. You took the head of his cock in mouth, only sucking on that, as your tongue swirled around it with practiced ease. He hissed and moved a hand to tangle in your hair, pulling off your elastic band and leaving it on his own wrist. He still wore his gloves. You were kinda into it. Slowly, you allowed your mouth to slide down his shaft. You moaned at the taste of him, and his fingers tightened at the vibrations from your throat. You moved tantalizingly slow. His face twitched as he watched you carefully, wanting to demand more from you but also enjoying the feeling as it was. Your teasing must’ve gotten to be too much, though, since it wasn’t long before he decided to take control of your motions.

The hand that tangled in your hair started to move your head at the pace he wanted, his hips bucking slightly to match the motion. Your hands moved to grip the back of his thighs and his ass, which you squeezed and gripped. By the stars, did this man have a nice ass. You almost distracted yourself with just feeling the curve of it, the muscles that squeezed as his hips thrust, the way his muscular thigh started underneath it. But your attention was brought back to the task at hand as Neyo fucked your face a little too harshly. You felt a pang in the back of your throat, and you pushed away from him as you gasped for breath. His eyes flew wide in alarm, and he reached for you.

“Osik, cyar’ika, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he sputtered and gingerly grabbed your arms as he crouched down. You coughed a little and smiled, looking at him with tears in your eyes.

“It’s okay. Really. Maybe just don’t do that again… at least, right now,” you said with a tease. He chuckled lightly and kissed you gently, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry. You just… felt really good. And I don’t…” he trailed off, a blush on his cheeks.

“Don’t what?” you pried.

“Don’t usually do this,” he said. You looked at him in confusion. He sighed and motioned to you in general. “Y’know… Have sex with someone like you,” he said.

“Someone like me?” you asked, your eyebrows flying from furrowed to high on your forehead.

“Not in a bad way! Just…” he trailed off, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how flustered he was getting. “Someone I’ve been attracted to for a while. It’s usually… like, a one-night I find at 79’s or something. And they’re usually scared or shy.”

“Ah, I see,” you teased and stood up, pushing him back and onto the couch. He looked up at you with curiosity. You unzipped the front of your uniform and stepped out of it without breaking eye contact from him. “You’re not used to someone who knows what they want,” you said as his eyes burned down your body. The trail they left was intoxicating, and you no longer felt any embarrassment from the night before. You moved to straddle him, and his hands went to your back to hold you tightly against him, but you pushed back slightly to yank his top over his head. His hands run over your bareback, and you explored his chest and stomach. Of course his chest hair was neatly trimmed. He seemed like that kind of guy. You were glad he kept it, though, as bare chests weren’t really your thing. His hands ran over the curve of your back, and you saw his eyebrows raised.

“Cyar’ika,” he started, but you shook your head with a hush. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to talk about it right now.

“Not right now. Maybe later,” you said simply. He took in a deep breath but honoured your request, pulling you to his lips in another kiss. Your nipples hardened against his chest hair, and you moaned into his lips at the sensation. He wrapped an arm around your waist and flipped you so you were laying on your back, his body pressed between your legs. You giggled.

“I like being on top,” he muttered against your lips. The words were in line with everything you knew about him. Sure, he might let you ride him for a bit, but you knew he would always end up on top.

“That’s perfect then. I’m starting to like being under you,” you muttered. His smile was evident when he kissed you again, and he dipped his hips to slide into you in one fluid motion. Your gasp broke your kiss, and your nails dug into his back. You knew he was going to fill you from the way he hit your throat, but you weren’t expecting this. You couldn’t stop the involuntary eye roll. He grinned, teeth against your neck, and started his fluid thrusts. You gasped lightly in his ear, not one to make too much noise during the act itself. He steadied himself on the couch with one hand, the other gripping your thigh as he held one leg bent up at his side.

You wrapped your free leg around his waist, pulling on his ass with your calf as your encouraged his thrusts. Your hips raised to meet his. One hand gripped the bicep of his supporting arm, and the other was running along his back.

There was an ache in your stomach that wasn’t your orgasm building. It was… an unfamiliar ache. A strange ache. Maybe it was because it was a week of teasing each other with fights and scowls. Maybe it was because his usually neat and slicked back hair was coming undone in front of you, wisps falling across his forehead now. Maybe it was because those metallic, beskar grey eyes were staring into yours with an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time--if ever. But the ache in your stomach was soon a burn in your chest, and you realised you made a mistake. You made a big mistake because you liked him. You liked him, and now here you were, writhing underneath him. And all you were to him was… well, a fuck.

Maybe you looked crestfallen because he kissed you deeply then. “Now, now, don’t get distracted, mesh’la. No distractions while you’re here with me,” he growled against your lips, and your attention was brought back to him. Even if it wasn’t going to last, you wanted to enjoy it while you could. You let a smile pull at your lips.

“Maybe you should keep my mind on you then,” you muttered teasingly. His teeth found their mark at the base of your neck, and you cried out at the sharp pain that sent waves of pleasure down to your core. Your pussy clenched around him, and he grinned in victory. “Oh, that’s definitely one way,” you whispered. He adjusted slightly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, and you weren’t distracted any more. One hand moved to push up against the couch arm, allowing you to buck underneath him better, and the other stayed on his bicep. His hand dropped from your thigh and went to the top of your head, fingers tangling in your hair there.

“Neyo,” you gasped, a small whine in your voice as you got closer.

“Elek?”

“Neyo, right there, baby,” you whimpered, trying to keep your eyes open as you felt your orgasm flying you to the edge at lightspeed.

He didn’t say anything, just buried his face into your neck in a flurry of bites and kisses, and you squeezed your knees harshly on his sides as you were pushed over the edge. Your back arched, your eyes squeezed shut, and your mouth flew open as a gasp of an orgasm wracked through your body with a flash of white behind your eyes. Feeling how you shivered and squeezed around him, knees and pussy both, Neyo’s fingers tightened in your hair. He gasped and grunted just twice as he slammed his hips against yours, holding them there as he shot his load into you. Your pussy twitched with every shot, and you milked him for all he was worth.

You both lay panting for a while, breathing in each other’s scents, and you moved your face to kiss him gently. This time, his kisses were soft and gentle, tender and sweet. He brushed your hair from your face, giving your forehead a kiss, and he pulled out to grab some tissues from the table. He helped you clean up, clothe, and he lay kisses all over your skin as he did.

“Oh,” he grimaced as he helped you zip up.

“What?” you asked in alarm, looking around to see if there was someone watching. He pursed his lips and ran his fingers over your neck. You could now feel just how raw and tender it was.

“Neyo!” you gasped, fingers flying to the skin there.

“You always have your collars buttoned up anyways,” he said in his defense. You gasped and smacked his arm, making him laugh as he caught your hand. He pulled you into his embrace and kissed your head, holding you in a hug. “I’m glad you forgot to shut off your holovid,” he muttered against your hair. He loved the way it smelled like green apples.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m pretty happy with the outcome,” you muttered back. He laughed and let you go, moving to the table to open the weapon’s case there. The rain hadn’t let up, but he was putting together the rifle within.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“I came out here to practice. Just because you came to distract me doesn’t mean I’m not going to practice. You’re more than welcome to stay,” he said, looking at you briefly as if it was obvious. You rolled your eyes at the man but smiled, pulling up a chair to sit beside him. You decided you would keep him company. You kept your eyes trained on his face as you watched him concentrate and line up his shots. You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your lips, forcing you to look away. He knew you thought he didn’t see it each time you did, but he did. He saw every smile, every lip bite, every blush.

And he smiled when you weren’t looking.

#beneath the collar #galactic daydreams #ao3fic #jp oakbrook #archive of our own #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #the clones #commander neyo #commander cody #love triangle #smut #made up job positions #chloe du klein

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