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#clone trooper smut
nahoney22 · 6 months
Note
I know requests are closed... but who else could I tell those fantasies I have about Dogma?
He'd capturing my thought and I make it your problem, too. 😏
Just imagine the sweet man one night alone at the barracks in his bunk. And he’s like: 'Okay, maybe I should try for once what the others think is so great about that self-pleasure.'
He even just blushed at the thought about it. But then he locks himself in and undresses, takes some lube he finds in someone else's locker.
Then he lays down and... ohhh did that sheet always felt so good on his skin? At first he just tries carefully with his fingers. It’s not enough. He almosts gasps when he wraps his hand around himself...
That’s when he loses it! You've never seen someone looking so sweet and sexy when he lets go. Absolutely lost in that sensation. So much he's even humping his blanket.
He never slept so well in his entire life like after that evening. Maybe he should try something else too sometimes?!
Taking it Solo***
A Dogma One Shot
word count: 1.2k
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After Dogma finds himself alone in the bunks, he takes some time to reflect. Maybe, he deserves some TLC.
warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, solo male masturbation, first time masturbation, this is dominantly a Dogma fic by itself but there is a very minor mention of someone/reader.
authors note: bestie you just know I LOVE me some Dogma smut. He deserves some.. alone time. Enjoy! 🤍
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The nights seemed longer than ever, burdened by the unrelenting war. Every Clone carried the weight of uncertainty about the coming day, but none felt it as keenly as Dogma.
Known for his unwavering obedience, which had earned him his name from among his brothers, he walked alone to the barracks one evening, a departure from his usual routine.
He couldn't understand why he had lied to General Skywalker about feigning illness, or why the General had accepted it after he stuttered his way through it. Regardless, Skywalker had told him to rest, and rest he would.
That, at least, was his plan.
As the barracks door hissed open, Dogma was greeted by a dimly lit room, rows of bunk beds immaculately kept. He had never felt so alone, and strangely, he welcomed it.
Walking to his bunk, the door sealing shut behind him, he sat on the edge and released a heavy sigh. A nagging guilt gnawed at him for evading today's mission with a lie. But, it was too late to sprint back to the hangar and ask Skywalker if he could join the mission now. Instead, he lay back and fixated on the empty bunk above him.
His thoughts meandered, with no particular focus, as his fingers absently traced the sheet beneath him. Then, a new and unfamiliar thought invaded his mind. His mouth grew dry, a sudden desire ignited within him, leaving him bewildered and slightly flustered. He cast a cautious glance around the room, once again finding solace in its emptiness, yet his heart began to race unevenly. Where was this leading him?
He stilled his hands and steadied his breathing, but the thoughts persisted.
During the times when Tup and Fives dragged him to 79's (literally), he found himself subjected to stories about their intimate life. Though Fives’ stories seemed more far-fetched rather than they were believable. It didn't exactly bother him, but it never piqued his interest. Plus, he was always wary of breaking the rules. Yet, deep down - way deep down - a part of him couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to be with someone, to experience some kind of physical connection in that way.
His grip on the sheets tightened once more, and his eyes closed as he pondered. Have the sheets always felt this soft? Had the constant specter of war effectively numbed him to every emotion he should have been experiencing?
He had enough. Enough of wondering. He gets up and quickly marches towards Fives’ locker and somewhat unsurprisingly, it’s unlocked. He knew he had some in here after bragging about it and grabs a bottle of lube. He pauses, stares at the tube and second guesses but the nagging feeling of wanting to explore something new was too powerful to ignore.
He crawls back into his bunks and checks the coast was clear once more before sliding his pants down, just past his knees. To his surprise, he was already half-hard under his underwear.
Dogma savours the moment. Savouring the idea of being alone with just his thoughts and without immediate responsibilities that puts his life at risk.
Gently, his left hand came up to caress his chest, pondering what it’d be like to feel someone’s hand touch him where his heart lied. Then, he began running his fingertips slowly over the ridges of hard muscle. He’d never been the most muscular of the 501st, but he’d always been slightly toned.
As his fingers stroked from his sternum down towards the waistband of his underwear, a countering shiver ran upwards from the base of Dogma’s spine, making the hairs at the nape of his neck stand up, and a soft sigh to escape his mouth.
Almost apprehensively his fingers stroked under the waistband of his pants and through to his pubic hair until he reached the base of his member.
Wrapping his index finger around to the underside, his thumb pressing on top, Dogma then began to gently stroke just his two fingers from the base to just below the head of his cock. He let out a soft sigh, the warm feeling of his hand against his flesh was…pleasant, relaxing.
He continued the motions for a while, lazy strokes up and down, occasionally swiping his thumb over the slit until he was hard enough.
Biting on the inside of his cheek, Dogma turns to the bottle of lube to feel something different.
As he puts a squirt of lube into the palm of his hand, the warm and slippery substance creates a puddle. With languid motions, he begins to stroke his cock. Slow and tenderly.
“Fuck,” he rasps almost silently. His neck cranes back, the sheets moving underneath him. The slick feeling of his cock between his hand made him almost melt in absolute bliss that he was missing all of this for so long.
His mind riled with different thoughts, imagining how it would feel to have someone sit between his legs and tend to his cock as tenderly as he was, wondering what it would be like for someone to cup his balls and praise him.
He wanted praise. He needed praise.
“S’good,” he mutters to himself, licking his lower lip as his hand dived further down his cock until he managed to caress his balls, rolling them slowly in the palm of his warm and slicked up hand before moving back to focus on stroking.
His eyes open slowly, eyelids heavy as his toes curl in delight at the sensation of getting pleasured, his breathing heavy, needy.
Words strangled in his throat, the pleasure burning through his veins that his eyes rolled into his head and shut again.
His grip on his cock sped up, the lewd sound of him pumping taking over the room, mixing with his short, soft grunts.
He went back to picturing what it’d be like to be beside someone, to have someone to hold and someone to fuck. Hard. Soft. But as he did, his mind went back to 79’s and that one person who gave him a second glance. Just that once. Those eyes, that laugh, that smile that now burned into his brain. How would they feel, nude and pressed against him as he rocked his hips against them? Would their skin feel as soft as the sheets that soon started to stick to his body?
“I wish you were here,”
He could feel his orgasm start to slowly build within him, his previously measured strokes becoming unsteady and harsh as Dogma moans into the chilly air of the barracks.
Fingers gripped tightly just below the head of his cock, he roughly worked the top of his length. Moaning loudly, imagining vividly, he hauled himself up so he was kneeling on the bunk.
His head dropped forward to his chest, and beads of sweat rolled down his neck as his climax built, throbbing against.
One, “oh f-fuck, yes!”
Two, “please… please…”
Three more firm strokes of his length and he was there, his cum falling over his messy bed sheets.
He stutters, body twitching at his climax before he collapses down onto his bunk with a thud. He laid there for a few minutes, panting and thinking about what he did. He knows he should get up and clean himself but for now, just for one minute, he felt calm. He felt content.
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Masterlist
tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog g @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad
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euphoriacafe · 13 days
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I made a playlist on Spotify
And I’m actually super proud of it!
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echoedcrosshairs · 9 months
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Foxglove ~ Commander Fox x F reader
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According the language of flowers Foxglove symbolizes riddles, conundrums and secrets along with ambition and creativity.
Summary: A small fancy caff shops pops up in the senate building. Commander Fox is not amused.
Slow burn, enemies? to lovers, Commander Fox x reader, Commander Thorn x reader (platonic)
Warnings: Angst, Smut, implied smut, cannon violence and talks of cannon related violence.
Part two
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.9k
You fell had fallen asleep at your desk stretching out the design for the caff shop until one of the senators poked you back into consciousness. Embarrassing a paper clung to your face as you sat up, however the peeling sound was extremely satisfying.
"Thank you, Senator Chuchi," you said laying the paper back down on your desk. You noticed her observing eyes looking at the papers and partial recipes, "I was thinking to see about opening a Coffee shop a few level down so the troopers could get some," you admitted anxiously trying to tuck the papers away.
"I think it is brilliant, do you mind?" she asked pointing on the proposal paper.
You blinked stunned, "Be my guest," you said handing it to her, "I think it would benefit everyone's late nights."
"Give me a couple days, I'll see what I can do," she smiled taking the paper reading over it as she walked off.
It didn't take long for an answer. After work you had started cleaning up your desk for the next rotation when you noticed the red shock trooper approaching with a rather large looking envelope. He handed it to you and waited for the response. Your fingers ripped the seam of it open, the senate had thought it was a very good investment. You screamed giddily and through your arms around the trooper hearing a disgruntled groan come from him before coughing and stepping back, "My apologies, the senate building is getting a coffee shop on the lower levels for the troops and senators."
"Good evening, Ma'am. I will let Senator Chuchi know the delivery was successful."
The moment the trooper was out of sight you did a little happy dance. You turned your attention back to the small packet and reread it, excited that you could begin work immediately. You practically danced your way down to the designated level and room, fiddling with the controls you finally got the door to open to the near empty expanse except for a few stray box's.
"The senate building is closed to the public, I must ask you to leave," a voice called behind you.
You turned finding him waiting a kama and a visored helmet, "Commander! I work upstairs in filing, I am currently inspecting this location for a new shop."
"You must be mistaken with this is the Commander offices." You handed the commander the filing paperwork, "Great just wanted I needed distractions," he mumbled handing you the paper back.
"Given this is mostly for the stationed troopers, I thought it would be nice," you said curtly.
"Last thing I need is baby sitting duty to keep my brothers in line," he grumbled, "Good evening," Fox said turning in his heel heading back towards him office grumbling to himself about professional courtesy.
How rude? You did your best to shrug off the comment but it kept eating at you. I'll just start ordering supplies after a full nights rest. You walked past the offices noticing the Commander from earlier but another lounging in his office who gave you a small wave. At least some of the soldiers will appreciate it. You got onto the bus to head home finding the trooper who waved was standing there, he flagged you over. Keeping your hand on the rails you made your way finding the section marked 'clones' your stomach fell to the floor, the discrimination of the clones was a touchy subject but one that made you want to kick and scream.
"I just wanted to say thank you for the opening the Caf shop, no idea how you pulled it off but the boys are excited."
"The other commander seemed less then thrilled," you tried to hide the scowl on your face.
"Fox? He's rougher than durasteel around the edges. Name's Thorn by the way."
You awkwardly stuck out your free hand and said your name, "Nice to meet you," he took your arm and shook it back. His hesitation to you suggested he wasn't use to people to greeting him back, "So why are you on this bus? Don't you guys have personal speeders?" you asked noticing the lack of other shock trooper colors.
"I'm going to 79's, remember citizen don't drink and fly," he chuckled at his own joke.
"79's... Oh the clone bar?" You had never been there but overheard several troopers talking about fun nights out.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Are non clones allowed it?" You asked arching an eyebrow.
"Nat borns? Also yes, never been?"
"No, might check it out. Might give me ideas."
"You should if you're free sometimes."
"I'll go home and change, sounds like fun."
"Oh, do you want an escort?"
"I'd love that," Thorn walked with you back to your small apartment waiting outside while you get changed, "You're neighbors love to stare."
"Oh yeah... their probably wondering why work followed me home, if I'm in any sort of trouble so I should be expecting a text..." your comm beeped, "Speaking of which," you laughed. You answered the messages as quickly as possible while following Thorn back onto the train.
"That's good you have friends that care about you," he offered once you were done telling anyone that your coffee shop project got approved.
"Everyone deserves a friend, got many?"
"Thousands," he chuckled, "Just warning you might want to stick close to me or my brothers are going to hit on you something fierce."
"It can't be that-"
"Yes, yes it can be. Especially if the 501st is there," he genuinely laughed, "offer still stands, also since we'll be sitting at the commander's officer, if there's a guy in grey armor that's Wolffe. He's a major flirt don't mind him."
"Thanks for the heads up."
Both of you kept up the small talk as you reach 79's. You took it the bar, semi low lit, loud music towards the dance floor, a few luxury female droids, a distinct beer smell, and tons of troopers with a handful or too 'nat borns' wandering around. For some reason the place made you grin, happy soldiers enjoying some down time from the war given a place to feel... normal and accepted. Thorn guided you to the back table furtherest away from the music, you heard the small groan when he saw both Wolffe and Fox
"The bane of my existence," Fox grumbled.
"Don't mind him, he's grumpy because I dragged him out of his office... literally," Wolffe smirked, "Take off your helmet, breath, and drink, vod."
Thorn took off his helmet first, setting it on the table in front of him. His hair was a dark shade of red but in the regular solider cut with a miniature tattoo spelling 'Hammer' across his eyebrow. He stared down Fox until he caved and took his off. You stared at him for a moment to long looking at his short shaved sides and medium top combed comb making him squint at you for a moment before flagging the service droid for drinks. Unlike his brothers Fox’s eyes were almost true to his namesake, perfect golden sunrise kissed irises with his tanned complexion making them almost seem to glow even in the faded light.
"Need a drink with how much work I won't be able to get done," he scowled.
"It's not like I had a choice on where the location would be," you countered, "Wear earplugs."
Wolffe smirked watching Fox's anger flared up, "The lady has a point."
"Yes," Fox gridded out, "You know the 'cafe' is going to cause distractions which means lack of productivity and efficiency."
"Are you really complaining over decent caf? You live on that poor excuse of black sludge excuse for coffee," Thorn nipped at him which just got an eye roll.
"Do you really not trust your men to behave professionally and be respectful and timely? Isn't the Coruscant guard suppose to be the best of the best?" you poked getting a deadpan stare from Wolffe at the audacious comment.
Fox's lip twitch into a snarl, "Bold," is all he said.
Thorn tried to keep the smile off his face by covering his mouth with his hand eyeing the droid bringing the drinks over. Between drink the two of you passed comments back and forth about decor and drink name ideas. Most of the drinks took on names of various command titles and battalion numbers to really make it clone friendly. Wolffe scowled when his came up but didn't complain that the concept of it was made expresso.
"Him!" A blue captain came walking over who had been very obviously eves dropping pointed at a blue trooper, "Never serve him coffee. Ever. Hardcase is hyper enough. Mind if I join?"
"Getting off your leash for once, vod?" Wolffe snorted scooting into the booth giving him space to sit, "Sit, Rex" he said casually so you wouldn't have to ask.
"Switch spots with me," Thorn whispered, "501st has a few flirts."
You contently stood up letting Thorn slide out so you could slide into his spot unfortunately sliding in next to Fox causing him to scoot closer to Wolffe in the middle. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your glass taking a few sips. While they all conversed about recent duties you took your time eyeing the trooper's automatically finding the flirts as one winked at you. Thorn noticed shooting him a looking smirking as he turned around, "They should leave you alone... hopefully," his tone suggested he was less than positive about the statement.
"She should get use to it," Fox said curtly.
"Just want to through her to the wolves don't you," Wolffe teased winking at him, "You really are a blurg in the mud sometimes."
"Sometimes?" You watched the brotherly banter unfold about the stick up Fox's ass about how tightly wound to he is to his work. Another round of drinks came and they shoved towards Fox telling him to enjoy himself, he drank both of them to shut his brothers up. The drinks had started loosening him up finally but there was still an air about his unwavering authority and harshness after they got a couple more drinks in him that finally started to subside too.
"What do you think so far?" Thorn whispered.
"Like this better then the regular cantina's" you admitted, "Seems more relaxed."
"Most of the time, sometimes fights break out. I don't recommend you civs get anywhere near when one happens."
"Nat Borns, Civs, any other terms I need to know?" you asked curiously.
"Not off the top of my head. Dance?" Thorn asked while the both of you watched in slow motion as the question jostled you enough for your hand to miss completely setting the drink fully down on the counter spilling it's context over Fox.
He growled, "Can't even be asked to dance without being a problem," he grabbed the napkins out of the dispenser blotting up the mess, "Can't wait until you burn yourself with just getting hit on, the amount of paperwork."
"Fox," Wolffe growled back, "Stow it."
Thorn slide out of the booth letting you climb out the flush across your face as bright as Coruscant guard red, "I'm sorry, Fox," you said looking at him.
"It's Commander Fox to you," he said climbing out heading towards the refresher.
Slowly you made your way towards the door before Thorn caught you trying to sneak away, "Dance, he's just tired." You looked between the door and him opting to dance just so he wouldn't hold leaving over your head. After fumbling stepping on Thorn's foot several times you finally got into the grove of the danced "Something on your mind?"
"Just wondering if he's right-"
"The what if's of life are keeps you from being in the present and tends to leave you with guilt."
"Thank you."
The men he tried to ward off kept staring, Thorn scowled at them before giving them a warning gesture to back off. Putting himself between you and them he finally relaxed again muttering about maybe if Fox got laid wouldn't be such an ass, you couldn't help but giggle. He apologized saying he didn't realize he had said that out loud. After a couple more dance the two of you headed back to the table, the three of them still sitting there chatting mindlessly about whatever came out of their liquid freed up mouths.
"Pretty lady at the counter checking you out Foxy," Wolffe snickered.
"I choose the company of my Vod's."
"Even I know how to relax," Rex scowled, "Don't make me call your batch mates," he jokingly threaten.
Fox grimaced looking at the woman at the counter then back at you then back at the woman, "Your sister is prettier than you."
"So are your brothers," you deadpanned slipping out of the booth and out the front door, you felt entirely humiliated. At the risk of crying you flagged down a taxi to take you home instead of wanting to wait around on the bus. Peeling off the dress and stepping into the shower the tears finally shed. The pressure of trying to get the shop up and running, that embarrassment and just wondering what you did wrong after just trying to do something nice hit you like a plummeting ship. You shut off the water just sitting there for a moment before pulling yourself up, Tomorrow is a new day... but avoiding him couldn't hurt.
Between finishing the work load of filing early you ordered everything you needed stating the room number where it needed to be delivered too. Arriving downstairs you found the door prompt open with boxes inside along with Thorn hauling the rest of the guards boxes out.
"Stupid droids delivered some of the supplies to my office, I'll bring them over after I drop these at filing."
"Thank you, Commander," you said formally turning your attention back to the boxes. You groaned at the amount of work you had to do, finding his office you found a few more stacks groaning you push some of them to the room thanking the tiles floor for cooperating. By the time Thorn had gotten back you were gleaming with sweat but managed to get all of the boxes inside.
"I said I was going to bring them over," he scolded watching you down water as if your sweat had sucked all of it out of you.
“Problem?” You heard Fox’s rough voice.
“No, Sir,” you said gulping down the rest of the water prying yourself off the heap of boxes, “Just explaining that I can move my own boxes,” you added curtly glowering at him before stalking off to organize the piles of boxes.
“Next time please let me, it isn’t a problem,” Thorn said pointedly staring at Fox.
You didn’t hear Fox leave, you turned to see his lingering presence in the door frame “Can I help you?”
“Not even open yet and causing problems,” he scoffed walking off.
You wanted to throw a box at his head, if he wasn’t the head of the guard it might have been worth it. Even Thorn cocked his head glaring at him as he walked away, “Funny cause you went home with her ‘sister’ last night.” You’re face turned bright red, you heard him apologizing for the unchaste comment before you shut the door in his face not being able to get the burning under control. He went home with her? If that isn’t a backwards compliment. That insufferable dreadful man is not going to ruin this for me.
Hearing a barely audible tap on the door you opened it apolozing to who you assumed to be Thorn about needing a moment to yourself to find Fox standing there and the rest of your words died in your mouth. He handed you a cup of Caf, as if you didn’t have a few boxes worth in one of these piles, and walked off. Was that a poor excuse for an apology? You took a sip of the caf and nearly sprayed it into the hallway. This is why I’m opening a caf shop, this is disgusting. They get disgusting beer and even worse coffee. However you forced yourself to drink it wrinkling your nose with every drink. It was dangerously caffeinated you zoomed from task to task until the coffee bar was fully set up which looked odd in such an empty room.
“See, the coffee is fine as is,” Fox chuckled walking by to peer at the progress you were making impressed with how much you accomplished.
“I see why you have no taste,” you saw his footstep flatter for a moment knowing the punch landed.
“Don’t know if I should applaud you or be afraid of you,” Thorn chuckled bringing in another huge box, “You forgot your cups, kind of hard to serve coffee without them.”
“Thank you.”
“79’s after?” he asked setting the box next to the counter.
“Because that went so well the first time,” you muttered, “Sure,” you said offering a smile.
Sure enough, Fox walked in saying he was going too. You tried to keep a straight face but the tension between the half hidden glare was enough to make Thorn squirm hauling his brother out of the room to leave you to your work.
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starrylothcat · 6 months
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Don’t know if you’re taking requests so disregard otherwise BUT… from your recent prompt reblogs, I’m loving:
“you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me” writer’s choice on the clone hehehe you know I’m just obsessed with your work-Alex🫶⭐️💙
Taken
Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader
WC: ~900
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Possessive Tech. PiV sex. Fem receiving cunnilingus. Established relationship. Tech being a lil dom? Jealous? Sexy?
A/N: ALEX! HI and THANK YOU FOR THIS PROMPT! Tech immediately came to mind. I have no excuse. Thank you so much for this. I hope you like this lil’ treat!
Smut Prompts
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When Tech appeared behind you at the bar, his hand sneaking around your waist, you knew you were done for.
“She is taken.” Tech’s voice was low, almost lethal to the two men who approached you at the bar as you ordered drinks for you and Tech.
There was something in his voice that pooled desire between your legs, a possessive tone that you’d never heard before, and you already knew you wanted more of.
His grip tightened around your waist, standing up straighter as the two men rolled their eyes, before slinking away.
You turned to look up at Tech, who was staring down at you, something hungry flashing behind his goggles.
Before you could speak, you were whisked into a cramped supply closet, your pants pulled down to your ankles and Tech’s mouth and hands encompassing your entire being.
“You are mine...” Tech murmured against your stomach, his kisses trailing lower as he knelt before you. Tech hauled you up on a crate, giving himself better access to where you were so desperate.
Tech hooked his fingers under your panties, tugging them down to your thighs. You broadened your legs, giving him a better view of what lay between. You watched his eyes widen slightly under his goggles, studying your glistening pussy that was spread before him.
“…and I take care of what belongs to me,” Tech smirked as he buried his face in your pussy, a cry leaving your lips, your hands flying to grasp his hair.
His tongue instantly went to practiced work, knowing exactly what made you mewl and writhe in delight. Tech gripped your thighs, his dominating mood making you even more wet between your legs.
Tech let out a soft moan as he flicked his tongue at your clit, watching you for your reaction, which was immediate. You gasped his name, clutching his head even tighter, rocking your hips against his face to chase your release.
“You always taste so divine, darling.”
Tech mumbled into your soft folds, switching between fucking you with his tongue and swirling around your swollen nerve.
“A taste only I have the privilege of savoring.”
You could barely register his husky praise, pleasure building in your lower abdomen.
Tech now had one hand pinning you down, keeping you still as he focused solely on your clit. “Mine…” He murmured. “All mine. Come for me, darling.”
Tech watched as all the muscles in your body tensed, your legs shaking around his shoulders, ecstasy exploding in every nerve in your body. Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, pleasure washing over you with each pass of his tongue. Tech pressed a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, gasping into his palm in bliss.
Tech drank every drop you gave him, not wanting to leave a mess behind.
He lifted his head, eyelids hooded, his face shiny with your release. His lips were on yours in an instant, his tongue exploring your mouth, sharing your juices with you. Tech rocked his hips into yours, feeling his hard cock against your thigh under his pants.
“I’m yours, Tech.” You gasped between kisses. “Always. Always yours.”
“I have never doubted it.” Tech whispered, pulling away momentarily to tug down his pants, lining himself up with your entrance.
He slid in slowly, inch by inch, both of you savoring the feeling of him filling you and your silky walls gliding against his cock.
Tech bottomed out into you, his body shuddering.
“I didn’t realize you…” You gasped, “had a jealous streak.”
Tech smirked, pushing himself as deep as possible into you, hitting that spot that made your vision go fuzzy.
“It is expected that other men would want to proposition you, ” He nipped at your neck, pulling out slowly and gliding back in. “Due to your pleasing appearance and personality.”
You couldn’t help but blush at his compliment, which was silly considering he was fucking you senseless in a dusty closet.
“Though I do have to admit…knowing that only I have the honor of hearing your alluring sounds and feeling your perfect body…”
Tech increased his pace, sweat forming at his temples, his moans becoming harder to keep quiet, as he pounded into you.
“It makes me want to claim you even more.” He panted in your ear, nudging a finger to your clit.
Another orgasm crashed over you, biting your lip to stifle your cries as Tech’s hips stuttered, feeling you clench and flutter around him as you came. Tech groaned, thrusting in one last time before spilling inside you, truly marking you as his.
Tech pressed his lips to your neck, slowly pulling out of you. He reached into one of his many pockets, pulling out cloth to help clean you up.
“Holy kriff, Tech.” You half-whispered, half-laughed, slightly delirious from the intense fucking. “That was-“
“Was it too much?” Tech looked sheepish, bringing a hand to your cheek. “I am not sure what came over me-“
You shook your head, placing your hand over his.
“It was hot.”
Even in the dimly lit closet, you could see his cheeks darken.
“I am glad it was enjoyable.” Tech touched his forehead to yours. “Though I am not quite finished.” That husky tone returned, his arm snaking around your waist, bringing you close to him.
He brought his lips to your ear, whispering dirty promises of what he still wanted to do to you when you were back on The Marauder.
You shook against him, feeling his fingers dance under your shirt, goosebumps following in their wake.
“I am not done taking care of you. Not yet.”
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Star wars confessions:
Each of our clone boys coming inside you the first time you tell them you love them during sex; just thinking of how they would react as they involuntarily nut inside you because of pure emotional feels is both just so hot and healing to me.
Idk; I'm a sucker for soft and steamy smut.
Feel free to reblog and add any headcannons if you want.
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clu-ven · 30 days
Text
Better than Meditation
soooo I haven't posted in a very long time but I'm trying to get back into writing!!! (so pls bear with me xoxoxoxoxo)
Summary: you come up with an alternative (smutty) way for Crosshair to gain some control over his hand - based off S3 E08
Tags: SMUT, vaginal fingering, semi public fingering?? (technically it’s done in an isolated but public place), lil bit of plot + smut, smut, smut
Word Count: 2.8k
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“He’s still down there, y’know” Omega’s voice brings you out of your thoughts as she slumps down beside you.
You keep your eyes closed, letting the rays of the afternoon sun wash over you. Pabu’s climate is one you could most definitely get used to. It’s inviting and comforting atmosphere makes you feel at ease, a sensation that has become rare since the rise of the Empire.
“Well, you know how stubborn he is,” you reply casually. 
While Hunter and Wrecker are gone to meet some bounty hunter they know, Crosshair has spent most of his time on a secluded part of the beach, focused on correcting his aim.  Everyone has tried to talk to him about it but unfortunately, that only made things worse.
Now Crosshair is more defensive than ever, determined to prove that he is perfectly capable of correcting his shaky hand by himself. 
“Yeah but AZI said it might be some kind of mental block,” Omega sighs, subtly copying you as she closes her eyes too “if he doesn’t open up and let us help him, then how is he supposed to get better?”.
Her concern for Crosshair makes you smile, impressed by how she’s able to delicately balance trying to help her brother without being too overbearing.
The question lingers for a few moments before you open your eyes and glance down at her “And he’s already shot down your meditation idea?”.
Omega briefly mentioned the idea to you that morning and although you were sceptical, you encouraged her determination to help anyway. 
“Of course he did,” she lets out a heavy sigh “saying he didn’t like it is an understatement”. 
A comfortable silence grows between you both as you consider the situation. But before you can speak, Omega quickly becomes restless and blurts out “Can’t you try speaking with him? He’ll listen to you, I just know it!”. 
It’s no secret that you and Crosshair were once close and you can only presume Omega has heard about this from the likes of Wrecker, who wouldn’t give a second thought about mentioning it.
"I can try but..." you trail off, hesitating to make a decision. Doubt clouds your judgement, stopping you from promising anything. After all, you know how stubborn and closed-minded Crosshair can be at times, especially when it comes to being vulnerable.
Omega's face lights up at your hesitant help. "Great! Sometimes trying is all it takes". She seems upbeat and enthusiastic as she stands “I was gonna go introduce Batcher to Mox, Stak and Deek anyways so it’s good to know Crosshair won’t be alone”.
Giving the girl a tight-lipped smile in response, Omega whistles for Batcher. With one last goodbye, she hurries off happily.
You wait until she’s gone before you sigh and slump down again. Although Crosshair has been back for a while now, the two of you have yet to have a proper reunion, leaving you both unsure of how to approach the situation. 
Knowing you can’t put this off for forever, you begrudgingly get up and start the long descent down to the secluded beach. 
The subtle change in weather appears to align with your mood, as the sun dips behind the clouds and a warm breeze begins to pick up. It causes the light fabric of your skirt to dance in the wind as if it has a mind of its own. But it’s only a momentary distraction as your thoughts swiftly return to Crosshair, focusing fully on him and the impending catch-up. 
You and Crosshair were always close during the Clone Wars, constantly laughing at each other’s snide remarks, bickering simply for the sake of it and always trying to get a rise out of the other. Even back then, you knew where the constant teasing would eventually lead to… but then it didn’t. 
Instead, the war came to an end and before you even got the opportunity to speak with Crosshair, the rest of the Batch had turned up at your door and told you that he had already picked his side.
Since then, you have been travelling with the batch. It took a long time to accept that whatever was between you and Crosshair was gone, whether that be a friendship or something more. That died the day the Republic did. 
But in a strange twist of faith, Crosshair is back and so are your lingering feelings. Although, if it was difficult to confront this emotion before everything happened, it’s become utterly impossible now. Neither of you have mentioned it and yet you still catch his longing gaze whenever he thinks you’re not paying attention.
When you reach the beach, it’s exactly how you pictured; Crosshair is alone, his sniper positioned steadily on a rock as he tries to shoot the far off target. A blaster bolt sprints across the water as he fires, missing his target by a few inches. You hear him mutter something under his breath as he tries again.
Flicking his chewed up toothpick to the ground, Crosshair notices you. “Yes?” He asks impatiently, lining up another shot.
“You’ve been out here all day,” you state the obvious “Omega’s worried about you”.
Crosshair doesn’t reply immediately, first firing (and missing) again before he turns around just to make sure you see his eye roll. “Oh, is she?” His tone is underlined with sarcasm. 
A huff falls from your lips and suddenly you know all too well why Omega was so irked after trying to help the man in front of you. Despite the scowl on your face, you refuse to fall into the usual bickering you once had with him. 
“You know she is,” you sigh “maybe you should take a break, come have some lunch and forget about target practice for a while”.
He watches you for a moment, studying you the same way you’ve seen from the corner of your eye “And when did you become mother hen?”.
Scoffing, you walk closer, hugging yourself with your arms “Don’t act like that, you know you’re overworking yourself… Crosshair, please, you need to take care of yourself”. 
The concern in your voice takes him by surprise but Crosshair quickly recovers as he mutters “Oh, so you’re worried about me now?”.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You bat back at him.
“You’ve hardly looked at me, nevermind speak to me since I’ve gotten back” he practically spits the words out. 
You no longer hold back your glare “Like you’ve made any effort to talk to me!”.
“How can I when you don’t even look at me?” Crosshair challenges, his gaze unyielding as your annoyance fades as quick as it came. 
Coming up to the rock he’s based at, you slide down against it to shield yourself from the wind. Crosshair follows suit and kneels beside you, waiting cautiously for your response. 
Your tone holds a sense of sincerity as you speak, your words now free of any reservations. "I do look at you… of course I do," you confess with genuine intent, all annoyance and restraint vanishing within you. 
“Then you must see me staring,” he almost whispers the words, watching you carefully “I thought you would have gotten the hint by now that I’m still interested”.
A soft smile graces your lips and as if taming a wild animal, you slowly reach out for his hand. Crosshair makes no attempt to stop you and you gently slip your hand into his before you tug him closer. 
Settling his hand on to your lap, you begin to trace your finger up and down his palm until finally resting your hand delicately on his wrist. “Let me help,” you offer “seriously, Crosshair”.
“And how would you help?” Though the question almost seems backhanded, you know that’s just Crosshair being Crosshair.
The mischievous glint in your eye paired with the suggestive smirk plastered across your face doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 
“How do you think?” you question. 
He holds your gaze as if to challenge you to make the first move but you hold strong. This is your moment and you both know it.
A secluded beach? A chance for you both to finally reunite in a way you could only imagine? Both of your minds go to the same place.
You give his wrist a small yet reassuring squeeze and before you can make another comment, his lips are on yours. 
With an intensity fuelled by pure need, he slams his lips against yours in a heated display of passion. This isn’t just a build up of years worth of longing for Crosshair. No, it’s much more than that. It’s an act of rebellion against the time he lost with you because of the Empire, both in spite of his own misplaced loyalty to them as well as his time on Tantiss. 
The fiery kiss goes on for what feels like an eternity and yet the time seems far too brief when it finally comes to an end. The passion flaring between the two of you is intoxicating, causing you to crave more.
His fingers twitch on your lap, eager to do more for you. As if on cue, you both look down at his hand, your soft grasp still around his wrist.
“You have to be calm, be able to stay consistent with your shots if you want to hit the target, right?” you ask, trying not to smirk when you see his sudden confusion. 
In a moment like this, you seriously decide to give him some advice on shooting? Crosshair nods, silently waiting to see where this is going.
“Maybe you’re approaching this from the wrong perspective,” you suggest, noticing how his attention shifts to your lips “you’re focusing on your sniper abilities, looking to re-learn your techniques… but you need to re-learn how to use your fingers in order to effectively use your sniper”.
“And how do you propose I do that?” his voice is low, causing the skin on your arms to prickle with goosebumps. You can feel the effect of his voice in your panties.
With your free hand, you begin to bunch up your skirt, first revealing your thighs and then a glimpse of your underwear. Crosshair can’t help it as a groan escapes from his throat.
You guide his hand closer to your clothed core before Crosshair takes initiative and brushes his fingers teasingly against you. 
He can feel the warmth beneath your underwear, feeling more assured in his movements when he hears you take in a sharp breath. But even with the small boost in confidence, Crosshair can’t help it as a small tremor courses through his hand. 
“Take your time,” your voice is soft but firm in your reassurance “and if this is too much then we can stop”. Fearful that you’ve pushed him too far, you slowly begin to close your legs as you nervously fiddle with your skirt “I didn’t mean to push you so-”.
You stop your apologetic remark when his firm grip stops your legs from meeting. A brief look of disbelief flicks across your face as he spreads your legs to his liking.
“No,” there is no hesitancy in Crosshair’s voice as he takes control of the situation “you started this, don’t go shy on me now”. This time it’s your turn to nod silently.
His fingers glide down to caress you again, this time feeling the dampness from beneath your underwear. Each reaction you give, whether a sharp intake of breath or a slight quiver up your spine, only serves to fuel Crosshair’s determination. He savors these small responses, revelling in how you leave each reaction so bare for him to see.
Crosshair smirks “If this is how you react to such simple touches, do you think you could handle me touching you without anything between us?”. 
“You’d be surprised with how much I can handle” you taunt.
Oh how he has missed how you challenge him. Your snarky response is rewarded with a kiss but before you can melt into it, Crosshair brings both of his hands to your hips and swiftly pulls your panties down. 
The eager sight that greets him brings a smile to his face. Crosshair can feel his excitement growing but before he can get ahead of himself, he’s committed to take care of you first. 
Crosshair teasingly brings just one finger down to your core. A slight tremor causes his finger to waver but after a second, it stops as desire overtakes him. His finger teases you, feeling just how much you want him. Before he can make another teasing comment, you pull him in for another kiss, unable to help yourself.
Crosshair is quick to take control of the kiss, simultaneously pushing his tongue into your mouth as he sinks his long finger into you. You welcome all of him, moaning into his mouth. Taking your sounds as encouragement, Crosshair adds a second digit to your core. 
He pushes in until he’s knuckle deep, successfully finding that spot within you. Crosshair takes your advice to heart. He keeps a consistent rhythm, thrusting his fingers inside of you. He listens to each involuntary squeak and moan, adjusting his speed and pressure of each pump of his fingers to whichever makes you react the most. 
There’s not a slight tremble in his entire hand, his attention solely on you. There is no room for nerves or doubt to creep in and cause his hand to shake. That seems almost impossible now, especially with you like this in front of him.
There is nothing but you and him in this moment, the rhythmic movement of his fingers serving as proof that he has full control.
He buries his fingers into you, pressing the palm of his hand against your clit and delivering powerful jolts of pleasure into your body.
“That’s it,” he coos at your moans “you’re nearly there, aren’t you?”.
A flutter fills your chest as your breathing becomes more rapid. "Y-yes,” you manage with a strained voice, your mind becoming overwhelmed with arousal “keep doing that”. 
You squeeze around his fingers, feeling the tight coil in your lower stomach getting closer and closer to finally snapping.
Your body responds to his touch in the most natural of ways, your back arching and head bowing in a display of utter pleasure. Your hand instinctively searches for contact, grabbing hold of his knee as the overwhelming sensation begins to consume you.
Your legs twitch, eyes rolling back in your head and a rather loud moan escapes your lips as the satisfaction you feel begins to peak. 
Bliss floods your entire being and the mixture of your moans and whimpers blend together in a melodic harmony. Every movement of his hand guides you through the waves of ecstasy, sending shivers through your body. 
Crosshair hums approvingly as you come down from your sigh. Almost reluctantly, he takes his hand away from you and examines his sticky but steady fingers. “My hand hasn’t been able to do so much and remain so still since… well, ever since Tantiss” he comments.
Trying to give your shaky legs more time to recover, you fix your panties before you reposition your skirt. Stealing a glance at Crosshair, you’re glad to see you’re not the only one with flushed cheeks. You smile almost bashfully as you lean on the rock to stand. 
Crosshair is there to help, gently holding your upper arm as you steady yourself. Despite the sass you gave him earlier and the bliss he just brought you now, you find it hard to maintain eye contact. 
Clearing your throat, you try to regain some of that boldness from before “Well then… good luck with your target practice, I’ll go see if the others have made contact yet”.
“What?!” the sound is almost foreign to you; the sound of an utterly bamboozled Crosshair. 
Pushing yourself off the rock, you feel his grasp slip away from your arm. You continue to walk as you turn around to savor his shocked expression.
“What about me?” he asks, trying to be inconspicuous as he gestures to the tent in his pants “I thought this was about helping me?”.
“Yeah, I know,” you reply with a smirk “you’ll get your reward when you hit the target”. With a wink, you turn your back to him and begin the ascent back. 
Crosshair’s jaw hangs open as he watches you go, and he can’t help but laugh at your audacity.
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motherroam-rs · 24 days
Text
Unattached
Fives x Fem!Reader
NSFW Ahead Minors DNI 18+!!!
A/N: To all the girls who wish they lost their virginity to a clone trooper - this one’s for us.
Tags/Warnings: Loss of virginity, Best Friends to Lovers, Alcohol, Gambling, Lil bit of angst, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Slow burn (technically), Love Confessions, Happy Ending!!
Summary: Since the moment you were transferred to the 501’st as a Civ Medic you and Fives gravitated towards each other and over many months of friendship you can’t help but slowly fall for the charming ARC Trooper. The tension only increases when he finds out just how inexperienced you are.
Word Count: 9.8k
(For clarification, the italics are flashbacks)
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The data pad read ‘Order for Civilian Medic Transfer’, which is really just a nicer way of saying ‘You can’t do anything about this, so just accept it and suffer’. 
You had no choice when you were inevitably rotated between legions, untethered. Your newest order was to the 501st, and you find yourself standing in an empty Medbay; it’s quiet. Too quiet. You’ve either been fortunately assigned to a legion that didn’t see much action, if that were even possible, or you were stood in the eye of a hurricane.
Your eyes are caught on the tattoo across the scalp of the head medic, ‘A good droid is a dead one’ and you suppress a smile at the sentiment. It’s why you were needed - clones weren’t fond of droids, even those programmed for medical purposes. 
“New?” The clone asks, eyes focused on a datapad. You weren’t, not by any means, you had been rotated countless times over the duration of the clone wars. But, you already begin preparing yourself for the usual gruff demeanour that often greeted you, although you were better than a droid, to many clones you were still just a ‘Civ’, despite the many sleepless nights of studying and GAR medical training. 
“No, sir, transferred from the 104th.” You keep your words short, formal, but the clone medic’s eyes light up in recognition.
“Under Commander Wolffe?” He asks, a hint of surprise in his tone as he actually looks away from the datapad.
“Briefly,” you admit, recalling how just a few days before the commander in question practically growled at you when you had to check his eye. You lasted a week there.  “I was with the 212th before that.”
The head medic eyes you with a curious look, waiting for you to elaborate, so you continued, “Typically Civ medics are just seen as temporary by the head medic, until a clone medic becomes available.” You explain, perhaps a bit too fast. How many times could you fit the word medic in that sentence? You internally groan, but he gives a small hum of acknowledgement, whether it was in agreement or disagreement of your statement, his face didn’t betray him either way. 
“Go get yourself settled, and then report back here in an hour.” He says with a slight sigh, passing you the datapad, a blinking spot on the screen indicating where your bunk is - at least this time you weren’t in the shared barracks. “We’ve only just got back from being planetside on Coruscant for a week.” Ah, that answers the question of why it had been so quiet then.
“Thank you, sir.” You nod, picking up your small pack of personal belongings, it wasn’t much, but it was the only anchor you had when you were transferred around so often.
“Kix is fine.” He nods, giving you a genuine smile. “Welcome to the 501st.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The small room is thrumming with energy that’s been ignited from an evening of drinking following a particularly rough mission for the men. Contraband in the form of amber liquid that burns your throat and fuels bad decisions, is grouped together on a small crate you’ve been using as a makeshift table for the evening. 
You’re currently sitting on the floor, leaning against a crate next to Fives as he divulges details to you about their most recent mission. Details that you probably aren’t supposed to know, but he tells you anyways, because ‘what are friends for if not to impress’, he had once told you with a sly wink. 
You knew most of the other Civ workers in the GAR weren’t as close to the clones they served with as you were. In all of the legions you had been bounced around from, there was a clear divide between the small number of Civ members, compared to the clones. But in the 501’st, those theoretical lines were blurred, or probably didn’t exist at all, with how Fives’s arm settled around your shoulder. He always had been the most friendly out of his brothers.
Your attention is drawn away from the warm expression of your friend, and you groan as you catch Jesse and Hardcase standing side by side, comparing their lengths. 
“Put it away, for the last time they’re all the same size!” You call out with a laugh, making Fives frown and whip around as he’s been interrupted from your conversation.
“Know from experience with clones?” Jesse sends you a drunken wink as his hands sloppily stuffs the offending body part back into his blacks.
“Medical experience with clones.” Your face almost hurts from smiling as you shake your head, before turning back to Fives. It’s faint and fleeting, but a look of annoyance crosses his features. You’re not awarded the opportunity to ask about it though, because he’s already delving into another over-exaggerated story of how he took out a whole group of droids on his own. 
You wouldn’t really care if they all weren’t true, you just enjoyed hearing him talk. The man could make even the most boring senate conversations interesting, you’re sure of it. So you smile, hooked onto each of his words, cursing the way your heart beats too fast when he reaches out to push away some hair that's fallen from the usual tight bun you have to wear it in. His fingers graze the skin of your cheek, leaving a burning trail.
It’s a small gesture that doesn’t even break the rhythm of his conversation. The touches are natural, instinctive on his part. He’s always touching you - you know to him it means nothing more than that, but your tell-tale racing heart screams at you that you wish it did.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once you had returned from being settled in, Kix had directed you to some neatly stacked crates containing new medical supplies to restock the old ones. Your sluggish movements remind you just how little sleep you’d managed on the transport here from the 104th, your body was still aching from the hours spent laying on the durasteel floor between containers of explosives. Not the best sleep you’ve had, and surprisingly not the worst.
“Hey Kix, can you tell me if this looks infected?” A voice pulls you from your thoughts, alerting you to the attention of a topless clone trooper, something that no longer phased you given how many entirely naked clones you had treated. Upon seeing you, the clone goes from being relaxed to formal instantly, clearing his throat as he fumbled to get the top half of his blacks on. 
“You,” he clears his throat, his voice now adopting the typical ‘trooper at attention’ tone as he pulls the clothing over his head, “Are not Kix.” His top blacks are on backwards, and he runs a finger along the collar which now presses uncomfortably to his flushed neck.
“No, I’m not.” You agree with him, suppressing a small smile at how he looks caught off guard, from his surprised expression you may as well be a battle droid standing in the medical bay.
“May I?” You gesture to his top, and he reluctantly removes it once more, taking a seat on a free bed. You see his issue, a common rash splaying across his shoulders from where his armour has been rubbing his skin through his blacks.
“You’re the new medic?” He sounds more nervous than you are, his jaw tensing when you run your fingers along the rash, checking for any signs of infection.
You give a small hum, confirming he’s correct as you step away. “And you are?”
“Echo. I, uh.. Wasn’t expecting a Civ?” They never do.
“Not infected, by the way, it’s just irritated.” You seek out a steroid cream, which you conveniently just restocked. “Here, use this twice a day, and keep the area as dry as possible.”
He gives you a short, formal nod before he redresses, correctly this time, and leaves the room with his face almost as red as his rash. 
You’ve moved onto another crate when you catch the movement from the corner of your eye, somebody passing the door to the Medbay. You think nothing of it until you see the figure again, this time he slows slightly to glance inside the room.
He walks past a third time - and then a fourth.
On what would be the fifth time you poke your head out slightly to watch him walk almost to the end of the hallway, just to turn around and begin his lap back past the door. He stops in his tracks when he sees you looking curiously at him, but quickly recovers even though he’s been caught, and strides back towards you. You catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his temple, but it’s his grin, framed by neatly trimmed facial hair, that seems to distinguish him from other clone troopers you’ve come across. It’s cocky, confident, and warm. Especially warm when he takes hold of your hand and presses it to his lips in a greeting that makes it feel as though you’re trapped in a boiler room, overheating.
“I’m Fives, and you are?”
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You were settled between Echo and Fives, the three of you with empty cups waiting for the next round of the game. Each round you had to take a shot based on your answer to the question, which so far had ranged between ‘If you’ve been shot by a droid’ - which Rex groaned at, and ‘If you ever fucked a girl in the 79’s fresher’, which made several of the men cheer. 
Your heart sinks a bit when Fives drinks at that one, recalling the night just over a month ago on Coruscant. 
You had all been there together, his arm slung around your shoulder in the booth as you both laughed at some fleeting joke made by Jesse. You had grown closer, close enough to the point that he got teased relentlessly by his brothers for calling you his ‘best friend’ whilst under the influence of some strong pain medication in the Medbay. 
You left to get some more drinks from the bar when Sinker approached you, a spark of recognition in his eyes. You were trying to focus on ordering the drinks, blushing as you attempted to turn down the Sergeant who was whispering over-sweetened things in your ear at how he wished you’d stayed with the 104th for longer.
You smiled in thanks when Echo came to help, claiming he saw that you may need help with carrying the drinks. You were grateful for the assistance, laughing with Echo under the usual volume of the crowd until you caught sight of your best friend, stumbling through the crowd towards the fresher, his hand intertwined with a beautiful Twi’lek girl.
You remember how Echo looked at you as he realised the reason behind your tightened jaw and hoarse voice when you excused yourself for some air. You couldn’t stand the sympathy in his eyes, the eyes that looked identical to those of your best friend, the man you were in love with. 
So much for being unattached.
“It wasn’t that good.” Fives nudges your knee with his own, pulling you from your thoughts. A casual smirk plays on his lips and you’re about to laugh off the comment, ready to deflect the attention from your friend, when his twin interrupts you.
“Yeah, cause you couldn’t get it up!” Echo slurs as he leans against you, clutching his cup as some of the amber liquid sloshes down your chest before he apologises and wipes the stain above your breast with hazy eyes. Fives catches his brother's wrist, pushing it away from your chest lightly, and your mind races at Echo’s statement - Fives hadn’t slept with the Twi’Lek girl?
“Shut up, Vod.” Fives grumbles, his fingers tightening around his own cup as he looks away from the two of you. A blush, that must just be from a mix of alcohol and annoyance, creeps up to his face. Thankfully as most of these questions have been related to battle or women, you’ve barely drank, so you can at least try to be rational and push away thoughts that creep into your mind of how you think Fives would take you against the wall of a fresher stall. You can ignore the contemplation on if he would show restraint, or if he would make the walls shake.
“How about this - take a shot for how many people you’ve slept with,” Jesse calls out to the small group of you, an intoxicated grin on his face. Several hands reach for the last remaining bottle at once, ready to fill their cups, each of their owners immediately wanting to show off to the rest of the room's occupants.
“No!” Kix’s hand is the fastest to snatch the liquor away, holding it close to his chest plate.  “We are not looking after you all in the Medbay with alcohol poisoning!” He gestures between you both, and Jesse bargains, coming to a compromise for 1 shot for every certain number, but the specifics of the round are drowned out by your own heartbeat.
Your body stills and you look down to your half full cup. It would be easy to drink, to lie to yourself and those around you. You don’t even have to drink more than once and yet you just continue to stare at your reflection in the liquid, it’s as if the cup were judging you.
“You know you’re supposed to at least drink once, right?” Fives whispers in your ear.
“Yeah, just got distracted trying to work out which of your brothers are definitely exaggerating,” You nod, taking a sip from the cup as you avoid his eyes that burn you more than any liquor ever could. You place the empty cup at your feet and lean your head against Echos, managing a small smile at how he’s snoring against your shoulder. 
Fives gives a small hum of thought, finishing his own drink before placing the empty cup next to you, allowing his finger to linger on the rim for a moment. Your gaze is focused on the way the traces of liquor coat his fingertips, making the battle-calloused skin glisten. You close your eyes, trying to fend off the thoughts of how the whiskey tainted fingers would taste on your tongue, and the mental image of them coated in something sweeter than the alcohol.
“Remember the first time I dragged you here?” Fives’ amused tone forces your eyes open, his warm hand settling on your knee and he taps his fingers rhythmically, almost to the same beat as your unsteady heart.
It had been just over one standard month, one of your longest posts so far, and you were already finding yourself anxious that you could be transferred away at any moment. If you had told yourself just over a month ago that in your new assignment with the 501st that you would wake to two half-drunk troopers in your room, begging you to come play Sabbac with them, you would have diagnosed them with battle induced psychosis.
“Well, not with us-” Fives starts, rummaging around the small closet for something you could wear over your sleeping vest.
“For us.” Echo finishes, practically pulling you out of your bed with an eager nod as Fives approaches you with something in his hands.
“Hands up, sweetheart.” In your tired state, you obey thoughtlessly, allowing Fives to slip the sweatshirt over your head. His fingers trail down your sides, eliciting goosebumps across your skin as he pulls the heavy fabric down over you, and between the contact and his name for you, your heart skips a beat. It nearly stops when he winks before turning away to get your shoes.
Clone Troopers were often flirty, but over the last month, Fives seemed determined to earn the title of being the biggest flirt. Regardless which of his brothers got sick or minorly injured, he was always the one pulling them through the door and would then spend the entire time sweet talking you. Just last week, Rex had nearly concussed himself on a pipe and looked like he wanted to hit Fives who didn’t stop talking the whole time you examined the injury.
“And why do you need me to play for you? I’ve never even played before,” You swallow thickly, sliding your feet into the shoes as the twins guide you from your room, both of their hands on your back, ushering you down complex hallways that all look identical.
“Fives got caught cheating, so we both got banned,” Echo rolls his eyes, placing the blame on his brother, who begins telling you the rules of the game, which they are playing a slight variation of given that they only had items to bet, not credits. You had reluctantly allowed them to bring a full bottle of rather expensive vodka you had purchased last time you were on Coruscant.
“You did not wake up the new medic just to get her to play for you.” Jesse groans, and Rex begins apologising to you for his brothers, ready to scold them for waking you up, but you raise your hand to stop him.
“It’s no bother.” You shake your head, remembering Fives and Echo’s advice to act confident - so really you just had to ask yourself ‘What would Fives do?’
“You know how to play?” Kix asks, surprised by your sudden change in demeanour. He had been used to you keeping your head down in the Medbay, following orders, not showing up with a bottle of alcohol to bet on and Fives’s arm slung around your shoulder.
“Oh please, I’ve been playing Sabbac longer than some of you have been out of the tube.” You feel Fives give your shoulder a proud squeeze at your lie as he places the bottle of vodka on the makeshift table, and you both take a seat, “Deal me in?”
After several rounds of you finding your feet in the game, Fives drops his hand to your waist, giving it a squeeze - he’s signalling to go in for the kill. You turn your head slightly to look into his eyes, and he gives a slight nod that doesn’t go unnoticed by your opponents, he’s making it look so sure you’re going to win, but in reality your cards weren’t good. 
 You and Rex were down to the last cards, everyone else had folded. Either of you could have the winning hand, but if one of you backed out now before your cards were revealed, you could at least keep your own stake in the game. It was about the bluffing now, and thankfully you were good at that.
“Well, Captain?” You and Fives lean backward in sync. You press the cards to your chest, hiding how they’re on the verge of shaking from Fives’ grip on your waist, but also to hide your tell. It’s a small, barely noticeable movement, your forefinger running along the edge of your thumbnail -  a nervous movement that Rex hasn’t noticed past your arrogant smile that perfectly mirrors Fives’. “What’ll it be?”
There’s a short beat where the room is silent and you hold the gaze of the Captain, all of the others staring between you both like it’s an intense standoff. He looks away first, tossing the cards down with a huff as he backs out, giving the win to you; he actually had a good hand. 
“Oh and by the way, sir,” You lay your cards down, revealing that you had already gone bust, over the number limit to win. “I’ve never played Sabbac in my life.” You grin at the shocked expression on his face that melts into a warm smile and you’re enveloped into a hug from Fives while Echo reaps your winnings from the table.
After you all decide to have a drink from the bottle you bet with, the tiredness catches up to you, and you struggle to stay alert with the alcohol that casts a haze on your mind. 
“C’mon, I’ll take you back.” Fives nudges you, picking up the half-full bottle of vodka as he pulls you to your feet, shaking his head in amusement when he tugs a bit too hard and you fall into his chest. “Already falling for me, sweetheart?” his voice is low, something that can only be heard between the two of you in the room full of his boisterous brothers.
You roll your eyes in amusement, a defence against how the whisper makes heat spread throughout your body. You take a half step back, placing the empty cup on the crate as you exchange a short goodbye with Echo.
“I’m gonna walk our lovely medic here back to her room, I’ll be back soon,” Fives gives a mock salute as you both make your exit and you try to ignore the whistle from one of the men as Fives chuckles, shaking his head. “Animals aren’t they, Mesh’la?”
You hadn’t known this side to any of the clones you’d served with, albeit you were just a medic, none of them had ever been this relaxed around you. The entire time you had been in the GAR, it had been lonely. There was no one to celebrate with after battle, no late night conversations between friends, no one to just sit with and cry when you weren’t able to save a life. But walking through the corridors with Fives somehow made it all worth it.
“You did great, sweetheart, I’m impressed.” Fives brings the bottle to his lips, taking a swig of the clear liquid as you stop outside of your door. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” His tongue darts out to lick the vodka off his lips and you can’t help but let your eyes linger there after the action. His gaze is already meeting yours when you look up, heat flickering in his eyes like the flame of a candle - he’s caught you staring.
Fives’ hand comes up to hold your waist once more, his grip tighter now, drawing you closer like you were a flower he wanted to admire. The scent of vodka from his breath intoxicates you, and you find yourself hypnotised, leaning closer. You don’t know what causes it, but at the last moment he freezes, his hand falling from your waist to press the panel outside your door, opening it.
“Goodnight.” He gives a tight-lipped smile before stepping away, walking back down the corridor in the direction of the barracks. Despite the heavy sweatshirt and warmth of the vodka in your blood, you feel empty as you enter your dark room. You find yourself lying awake in your bunk as you work through a mixture of disappointment, embarrassment, and something that ignites an ache between your thighs. 
He stopped himself from kissing you, and you didn’t know why.
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You know your way back, he doesn’t need to walk you, yet he always does. It’s been almost 8 standard months since you were transferred to the 501st, you could practically navigate your way around blindfolded. So, you know you're about to turn onto the corridor your room is on when he speaks.
“You didn’t drink.” 
Your mouth goes dry, it’s like you’ve just eaten a whole pack of ration crackers while sitting in the Tatooine desert with no water. The lights above feel harsher, as if you’re under a spotlight on the Medbay examination table, and Fives is the one inspecting you. He’s peering at you from the corner of your vision, gauging your reaction to his statement. 
“What are you talking about, Fives?” You shrug in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but unfortunately due to his metabolism he was as sober as you, meaning he was just as observant. You couldn’t brush off his attention when he places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your place just as you round a corner. From here you can see the door to your room, the third from the end. It’s taunting you at how close you were to getting away with the secret you’d been keeping against your chest.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” His free hand grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing your attention to him. You swallow as he draws your face closer, eyes raking over your features as he gives a small shake of his head. “You didn’t drink.”
“Yes I did.” Your voice is impressively steady, you’re good at bluffing. Fives already knows this, but he knows you better, and his eyes dart down in search of something. Your fingertip presses against the edge of your thumb in a movement that Fives had catalogued in his brain since that day you beat Rex at Sabbac.
The credit drops. You can see the moment it registers in Fives’ brain as his jaw goes slack, his grip on your chin loosening.
“Are you a- mph!” Your hand covers his mouth and you push him to the wall before he can shout aloud what you’ve kept unsaid for your whole time in the GAR. Fives was an ARC trooper, he could easily push you away, but his muscles seem to weaken against your grip. You feel the resistance in his body melt under your touch, as his eyes soften just above where your hand covers his mouth.
“I know you’re a loud mouth but please,” Your voice is low, urgent, as you give him a warning look, your face burning from embarrassment as he’s just come to the realisation of why you didn’t drink. You didn’t have any number to drink for. You can see him linking it together in his head - why you turned down flirtatious advances from his brothers, why he walked you back alone after every late night. It was why your body was so responsive to every small touch and honeyed word from his lips; like a flower chasing fleeting sunlight in the late afternoon. “Just this once, Fives, keep your voice down.” 
Fives gives a short nod down at you, assuring you he’ll be quiet. His fingers loop around your wrist, tugging your hand from his mouth. You unsuccessfully try to ignore the way his lips had felt against your skin, you’re so caught on the small patch of wetness on your palm that you miss the clench of his jaw and flash of emotions in his eyes.
“You’ve really never..?” He trails off, the words settling into the small gap between you, they’re not taunting or teasing, they’re simply disbelieving. Even though he’s released your wrist now, it’s still suspended in the air, as if you’ve been frozen in carbonite. You’re afraid to move away, that it would be just like all those months ago, that the moment would be shattered and lost.
Your breaths are mingling together, you’re like an asteroid orbiting, drawing closer and closer to his planet, bracing for impact. Fives is unblinking, waiting for the answer he already knows, but needs to hear for himself. 
“No.” 
Something stirs in the depths of Fives’ eyes and there’s a tension you could almost reach out and grasp from the air. Your body acts on its own, hand breaking free from its frozen stupor to find interest in a small scar on his jaw. You remember treating the small cut, he never even flinched, but you had let him hold your hand anyways. ‘It’s for comfort’, Fives had told you, accompanied by the usual sly wink that made it all the more difficult for your free hand to remain steady when you cleaned the cut.
Fives’ eyes slip closed when your fingertips graze against the shining scar, his breathing becoming carefully controlled. You recognise the pattern, it’s the same pace it was during the times he would take you to the training rooms, his body pressed to yours as he taught you to shoot. He would chuckle into your ear when your hands would shake, causing you to miss.
Your hands are steady now, no signs of the trembling are evident when you raise your attention higher. Your finger traces its way over the inky ‘5’ on his temple, and you’re about to move it away but you find yourself held in place, fingers still pressed against the tattoo.
Fives’ constant touches were always casual, fleeting, and meaningless. But this? This was deliberate. 
His gloved hand is circled around the bare skin of your wrist once more, keeping your fingers pressed against his temple. After a short, breathless moment, he moves your hand, but not to push it away this time. He pulls it closer, making your fingers trace across his cheekbone, against his warm skin all the way on a deliberate path to his mouth. 
Fives’ lips ghost across your fingertips and in contrast to his rough exterior and battle scarred skin, they’re soft. Just above the point of your fixation is his heavy stare, focused and serious, like you’re his target in the heat of battle.
Your heart is thrumming against your ribcage like blaster fire and you wonder if he can feel the pulse in your wrist through his gloves at the sheer force of it. There’s barely any space between the two of you, and it only lessens with every beat of your heart.
“Just… stay still for a second, please,” Fives’ eyes burn into yours and he’s like a black hole orbiting you, pulling you in with his gravity. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” His voice is a strained whisper, just cosmic background noise, all you can focus on is how his breath fans across your lips. 
His eyes close again when you nod, and you allow yourself to slip away into the same darkness as he consumes all of your senses.
The touch is light, a soft brush of his lips against your own, and the gentle contact has a shiver running through your body. His hand has placed your palm back to his jaw, covering it with his own as he pulls you in deeper. The second kiss is more confident, the swipe of his tongue over your lower lip has the world around you dissolving into a meaningless void as he becomes the centre of your universe. 
Before you can part your lips for him, Fives pulls away, just enough so he can look at you. There’s a dazed expression on his face, like he’s been concussed but is strangely happy about it. The momentary bewilderment melts away into an unusually shy smile and he’s about to kiss you again when you’re interrupted. There's laughter echoing from the direction you just came and Fives pulls back further, a suddenly serious look taking over his face.
You’re filled with a strange sense of deja vu when he steps away, your heart already sinking. Before you can open your mouth to apologise for getting carried away, to try and repair whatever strain the kiss could have put on your friendship, you’re being pulled along by his gentle grasp. Fives is making urgent paces down the short walk to your door, slamming his free hand to the control panel to get you both away from whatever prying eyes may have stumbled upon your private moment.
The door whooshes down to swallow you both in the darkness of your room and just like all those months ago, your back is pressed against the cool durasteel door. Only this time, you’re on the other side of it.
You immediately miss the warmth his body has been providing you with when he walks over to your desk, fumbling in the darkness from your lamp switch. Your lips still tingle from where his own were pressed against yours, and you swear you can still taste him.
The room is poorly illuminated from the dim bulb, but it's enough to highlight the figure of Fives leaning over your desk and you take in the full sight of him. He’s still wearing his armour from the waist down, but his upper half is only dressed in his tight blacks, and the lamp casts shadows that accentuate every ridge of muscle. It’s times like this where you’re reminded the man in front of you isn’t just your best friend, but also a highly decorated ARC Trooper, a man who spends most of his days in battle.
The serious look doesn’t leave his face, even when he’s moved back in front of you, blocking out the rest of your room with his large frame. At some point in the darkness, Fives has removed his gloves, allowing you to feel the rough skin of his hand as it cups your face. His thumb tugs at your lower lip, smearing saliva across the swollen skin as he teases the sensitive flesh. You can make out the apprehensive desire in his eyes as he marvels down at your mouth, before looking up to meet your gaze once more.
“Kriff, I…” His voice is light, and there’s an uncertain, almost desperate edge to it before he swallows it down. “Sweetheart, do you want this?” 
It would be easy to lie to the both of you and back out. You never expected to meet anyone when you enlisted into the GAR straight from your medical school. Back then you had wanted to be a doctor, it was expected of you by your family, you sacrificed your entire social life to work for it. 
You were never given the luxury of free-time, how could you ever have met anyone when all you did in your later teen years, when all your friends were partying and meeting their partners, was study? It was never a case that you didn’t want to be with anyone, but life simply prevented you from it. You were in your third year when the war broke out, two more years at the university and you would have graduated, but instead you decided to take your study credits and enlist as a medic. In less than a standard rotation from the moment you notified the university, you were on a transport to your first assignment.
You had let your work and the war rob you of so many experiences, you wouldn’t let them take this from you too. You wouldn’t let them take him from you too.
“Yes, Fives.” You nod, allowing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. You’re sure of this, sure of him.
“Tell me to stop,” There’s a hunger in Fives’ eyes when you say his name and his lips press back to yours in a kiss that’s over far too quickly. “At any time, tell me to stop.” He’s holding your face still, unmoving until he has your consent.
“Okay.” There’s no reluctance in your tone, just a breathless need that makes Fives’ jaw tick.
Fives exhales, his shoulders relaxing and your eyes close again in anticipation, awaiting his kiss. But instead you feel the heat of his forehead press to yours, as if he’s anchoring himself against you, just for a moment.
“Okay, sweetheart.” His mouth is instantly on yours, his right hand still cups your jaw, but his left slips around your back in search of the zip on your uniform. He makes quick work of pulling the zipper down to loosen the material from your skin, and both hands travel down to your hips, tugging at the edge of the fabric.
“Hands up.” Fives’ voice is low in your ear as he presses a kiss to your hairline, and you raise your arms, allowing him to slip the top from your body. He discards it on the floor, not wanting to waste any time that could be spent with his hands on your exposed skin.
Fives is slower this time. Each movement is purposeful when he guides you both towards your small bunk, his tongue slipping past your lips in a kiss that makes you dizzy as you taste him in your mouth. 
When the back of your knees meet the edge of your bunk, Fives’ lips begin to trail down your body. His path starts at the soft skin of your now exposed cleavage, and continues down past your bra, over the smooth skin of your stomach. There’s a soft scrape when his armour makes contact with the floor, he’s dropping to a kneeling position with his lips hovering over your abdomen. You look down at the man kneeling before you with his fingers hooked in the waistband of your uniform leggings, and you can’t help but smile. Fives pauses momentarily, sending a wink up at you before he tugs the fabric down, exposing the flesh of your legs. 
“Lay down.” Fives whispers, and you can feel his warm breath tickle your stomach.
You settle backwards onto the bunk, allowing Fives to remove your leggings entirely, along with your shoes. You’re left in just your simple, black GAR issued bra and panties. It’s nothing special by any means, but Fives eyes you as if you’re an oasis he’s stumbled upon in the middle of a month-long battle. One meant only for him.
You let your eyes slip closed as you hear the familiar noise of his armour being removed, clattering to the floor. It’s something you’ve heard many times when he’s come to relax with you on an evening and you find yourself counting each piece removed as a distraction until bare fingers brush your knee. It’s a comforting touch to draw you back to him.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart, look at me.” Fives is sat just between your legs, bare aside from tight boxers that leave little of his anatomy to the imagination. You already knew what clones looked like naked, you had treated enough of them to not be phased by any part of their body. But a clone on a Medbay table was different to your best friend whose lips were pressing to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. “Is this okay?”
He inhales against your panties and you attempt to swallow your embarrassment and nervousness at the sight of your friend between your legs with only a thin layer of fabric between you. The sight of his ever-present smile between your legs sends a flood of heat through your body before it concentrates in your lower stomach.
When you don’t reply immediately, he pulls back slightly, giving the thigh he’s hooked over his shoulder a light squeeze. His brown eyes are filled with concern, searching your expression for any hesitation. 
“You still with me?” His thumb traces patterns against your skin, each movement only encouraging the fire in your body.
“I’m still with you,” You nod, watching as something lights up in his eyes. “What are you-“ 
Fives immediately silences your question with an action. His wet, open mouth presses to your thigh again and you feel yourself exposed to him when he hooks a finger in your panties, pulling them to the side. 
“I’m taking my time with you Mesh’la.” His hot breath fans over your now exposed cunt and you fight the urge to clasp your legs together, you’ve never felt more vulnerable lying in your bunk, entirely bare to the person you trust most and it’s a vulnerability that makes your heart race as if you’re under attack. 
Fives seems to sense your nervousness as he holds your knees firmly apart with his shoulders and free hand, keeping your legs open for him to litter small kisses on your inner thighs, all the while keeping you exposed for him. 
“Focus on me, Cyar'ika.”
Before your apprehension can get the better of you, Fives is licking a slow, experimental stripe up your slit, parting your folds with his tongue. His eyes are on yours the whole time, studying the awed look on your face and gasps of pleasure when his tongue runs over your clit.
Fives shakes his head, grumbling something under his breath. Before you can decipher it, he’s using one hand to lift your hips from the bed while his other practically tears the panties from your body, leaving you in just your bra. Strong hands move to grip the top of your thighs and pull you to him so he can secure his mouth to your core without obstruction, filling the room with wet, desperate noises as he laps at your cunt. 
Your hands twist in the thin bed sheets, desperately searching for something to ground you as his tongue delves inside you. His mouth is attached to you like you’re his last meal before an execution, the first drop of water after a mission on a desert planet, something he’s denied himself for far too long.
One of his fingers circles your entrance and your eyes snap open, finding him already looking up at you with a question in his gaze, asking for permission. You can only nod, not trusting your ability to speak with Fives’s tongue dragging slow circles around your clit. 
Your head slumps back to the floor when he proceeds with your consent, the sensation is entirely foreign as you feel his digit sink into you, testing your tightness. Your own fingers were nothing in comparison to his, even just the one is beginning to stretch you.
“Fives…” Your breathless plea encourages him and your teeth sink into your lower lip as he adds another finger to stretch you further. You let out a small whimper at the slight burn and he slows his movements slightly to allow you time to adjust.
“Shh, Mesh’la,” He changes the angle slightly, massaging his fingertips against the walls of your cunt as they search for a particularly sensitive spot. Your body jolts, arching towards him when he finds it, and a moan escapes you. “That’s it, relax.” 
The heat in your core is building as you grow wetter, making it easy for him to work his fingers into your tight hole, only adding to the growing pleasure building in every part of you, begging to escape. He presses his thumb to your swollen clit, one goal in mind.
“Need to make sure you’re ready for me, Cyar'ika.”
Fives withdraws his fingers from your gushing cunt, his hands instead moving from under your thighs and securing themselves back to their original position on your knees, keeping your trembling legs open as he continues to suck lightly on your clit when you reach your climax. Your body shakes, set alight with pleasure that’s only intensified by the way his head rests against your thigh, looking up at you as if committing the moment to memory.
When you finally relax against the bed, the pleasure having temporarily robbed your body of energy, you expect him to be done and move onto the next step. Instead, he lets out a low chuckle and begins circling your clit with his thumb once more. 
“Do you think you can give me another one, Mesh’la?” His soft smile contrasts his words, but his eyes gleam with mischief when you whisper a small ‘yes’ in response.
He’s using just his fingers this time, two of them working you in a scissoring motion, stretching your walls as his other hand slips between you and the mattress. His fingers expertly find the clasp to your bra, freeing you from the last item of your clothing.
His pupils are dilated, drinking in the sight of your writhing body, now entirely bare for him. He leans back slightly, taking in every detail, something between a smile and a smirk on his lips when his eyes focus on his own fingers pumping in your tight hole. The moment he feels your orgasm hit, cunt tightening around his fingers, he descends on you once more. Teeth pulling at your nipple, his thumb secured to your clit as he lets you ride out your orgasm, your hips attempt to grind up against his hand, chasing pleasure.
The world is falling back into place around you when he shifts his weight on the bed, and you hear the final piece of clothing hit the floor.
Fives is kneeling in front of you, a hand on each of your knees as you take in the sight of his bare body. His large cock makes the breath hitch in your throat, but he presses a soft kiss against your lips, prepared to ease the tension that threatens to overwhelm your body. His eyes are filled with a warmth that reassures you when he pulls back to press another kiss against your forehead, “You can take it, Cyar'ika, I’ll go slow.”
Fives settles his hips between your parted thighs, hooking one of your legs over his waist to keep you open beneath him. Soft lips ghost over yours and you feel the head of his cock settle against your entrance.
“Are you ready?” His thumb brushes along your jaw, a loving reminder that it’s your best friend above you, the person you trust the most. The same man who you would stay up with late at night after every difficult battle, who you would always pick up an extra ration bar for, the man you were in love with. 
“Yes.” Your eyes slip closed as you press your lips back to his.
The initial pressure of his cock entering you gives way to a sharp pinch that causes you to suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. Despite all of Fives’s efforts to prepare you, the unfamiliar pain seizes your body in an uncomfortable grasp.
“Relax for me, Cyar'ika.” He murmurs the assurance against your mouth, forcing his own breathing to slow, unconsciously prompting you to calm down. A hand presses to the underside of your thigh, pushing it upwards as he rolls his hips into you, he’s only halfway inside and you try to force yourself to relax around his impressive girth.
“That’s my girl.” He groans into your neck as his hand drops from your thigh to drag precise circles around your tight clit. The added layer of stimulation makes you gush around the half of his length inside you, making it easier to take his cock, but he doesn’t push any deeper. Instead he rocks his hips in a shallow motion, allowing you to adjust to this size first.
“Shh, don’t worry, Mesh’la,” He strokes your hair, continuing to press soft kisses of assurance to your mouth as he works your clit in time with his shallow thrusts. “It’ll be easier once you cum with me inside you, then you’ll be more relaxed for me.”
Fives’ hips pick up their pace, but he still limits himself, expertly watching your body's reactions to his cock. He’s continuously ensuring he doesn't go too fast, too hard, too deep. It’s a balancing act, one he seems to be perfect at with the way he already has the beginnings of another orgasm taking grasp of your body.
“Fives!”
You’re grinding helplessly against him now, one hand on his tanned chest and the other grasping at the short hair on the back of his head. Between Fives’s whispered words of adoration in your ear, you can make out the wet noises as he thrusts inside you, each movement causing more of your wetness to drip between your joined bodies, smearing you both with your arousal.
You’re hooked onto his words like a lifeline as he guides you through the experience.
“Kriff-” He shakes his head as he takes in the sight of you cumming around his cock. But it’s not lust in his eyes, it’s something far more intense. “I promised I wouldn’t do this..” His voice is strained, like he’s trying to keep the words inside of him. 
Before you can even catch your breath fully to ask what he means, your world is spinning when he pulls you upwards, slotting himself underneath you so you can no longer try to read the emotions in his face. Your back is now pressed to his chest, his body supporting you to stay upright and he’s hooking his right hand under your knee, spreading you apart.
His chin rests on top of your head, the position allowing him a full view of your body as his cock enters your cunt from behind; it’s more than before, but still not the full length. Your right arm curls up around behind you to hold the back of Fives’ neck, needily pulling him closer in the moment as you writhe against his body.
“Look at that, Cyar'ika,”  You feel the rumble in his chest just as much as you hear it, and it draws your attention down to your joined bodies. He shifts slightly to support your head as you catch glimpses of his cock disappearing into your tight hole in a series of shallow, restrained thrusts. “Look how perfectly we fit together.”
His eyes remain locked on your body, the way your chest heaves and cunt tightens, dripping down his cock as you cum once more, you’re already losing count. From what you were always told by friends when you were in University, losing your virginity was supposed to be a far cry from this. In fact you don’t think a single one of your friends had cum when losing theirs, and yet here you were, the room almost spinning from the pleasure Fives had given you.
Fives chuckles at the blissful look on your face as he pulls his hand from your clit, allowing you to relax against his larger frame. “You are really something else, Cyar'ika.” He’s slower this time when he rolls you both over once more, cradling the back of your head as he rests you back onto the pillows. 
He resumes his original position above you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. His eyes are full of adoration when he looks down at you, and there’s no trace of the painful stretch from earlier when he slides the full length of his cock inside you this time.
He’s been so focused on your pleasure that his own has been forgotten, but you see the evidence of it. He’s coated in a sheen of sweat that makes him appear like one of those glossy paintings in the art galleries on Coruscant. He’s an artwork, beautifully crafted, every muscle in his body coiled tight in restraint as his hips grind against yours. 
It’s your turn to touch him this time, to appreciate every bit of the vulnerability in his face as he presses his forehead against yours and you angle your face upwards to steal a kiss. A tortured moan escapes his lips as his thrusts only increase in speed, he’s clinging onto you like it’s his sole purpose.
“Where?” His breathing is ragged against your neck.
You make a confused noise in response and he curses something in Mando’a.
“Where do you want me to cum, Mesh’la, hm?”
You‘re speechless from the pleasure, but thankfully your body answers for you, already locking your legs around his hips to keep you joined together.
“Alright, Cyar'ika, inside it is.” There’s a soft rumble of amusement against your throat before his mouth finds yours again. One hand tangles in your hair while the other grips your hip, both of them seeking to drag you closer. You’re two stars colliding in the void of the universe, no longer orbiting each other, instead becoming one as your light drowns out all darkness around the pair of you.
His name is falling from your lips, cries of it suffocated against him when his tongue slips into your mouth. Fives empties himself inside you, his cock unloading a flood of warmth that already overspills, leaking from your cunt with every slow movement of his hips. He pulls back, an unreadable emotion in his eyes before he buries his face in your hair, distracting himself by stroking at your burning skin. You stay there as you both begin to calm, hearts beating in sync with one another as your bodies remain joined.
He’s breathing heavily in your ear, an affirmation that you haven’t died and ascended to some afterlife when he drags his hips away from yours, leaving you empty as he stands up. 
“Where are you going?” You hate yourself for sounding so needy, but with his cum leaking from between your thighs, how could you not. You knew it was common for men to leave straight after sex. You’ve caught some of the boys’ one night stands sneaking out barely ten minutes after they had been brought to the barracks, hair messy and clothes dishevelled. 
“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not leaving.” He winks at you before disappearing into the small fresher joined to your room. You hear the water running for what seems like far too long, before he returns with a warm washcloth.
“Gotta clean us up before we make a mess on the bed, I’m not falling asleep in a wet patch.” He settles back between your legs, whispering soothing praises as he cleans your combined fluids. He’s thorough, making sure there’s no trace of him left before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh and discards the cloth into your laundry basket.
“C’mere.” He settles down next to you, lifting an arm to allow you to curl up against him and he pulls the bed covers over your waists. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, basking in a moment neither of you want to end. It’s sweet, intimate, and perfect. 
Yet you can’t stop yourself from asking the question.
“What did you mean when you said you promised you wouldn’t do this?” 
He pauses, an awkward smile tugging at his lips, you’d never seen him nervous like this, a blush creeping into his cheeks that he can’t even blame on the sex. “Caught that did you?”
You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. Your cards were on the table, it’s only fair that his should be too.
“I suppose it’s only fair given that I didn’t let you get away with not drinking.” There’s a nervous edge to his laugh as he drags you closer to him, like he’s afraid you could disappear at any given moment.
“Do you remember the first time we played Sabbac, you kicked Rex’s ass, and I walked you back to your room?”
You nod slightly. The memory still plagued your thoughts on sleepless nights, it embedded itself in a playlist of embarrassing moments that liked to keep you awake. Yet, it also featured on the list of thoughts that had your legs twisted in the bed sheets as you imagine what would have happened if he did kiss you that night. 
“I wanted to kiss you, but I couldn’t.” He sighs regretfully, admitting the truth he had been fighting against all of the months since that night.
“I think you’d only been here for what - a month?” You feel his laugh against your cheek as it rumbles in his chest. “And I couldn’t get you out of my damn head, I even made Echo fake being sick once just so I had an excuse to come to the Medbay and talk to you.” You remembered, and now felt slightly bad for insisting you give Echo all those unnecessary virus and anti-nausea shots.
“I needed the excuses to see you, because if I didn’t, and I saw you without them, it’d mean something that I’d been avoiding.” He trails off, trying to find a way to put it into words, it wasn’t something he had ever been good at. But he would try, for you he would try.
“The rest of the boys found out because I called you my girlfriend once when Kix gave me some of the heavy stuff in those green syringes.” He laughs, shaking his head and your mind begins to put the pieces together, that’s why they teased him so often about it. “They all promised they wouldn’t tell you how I felt though - I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
He drags a hand down his face, his jaw tenses. “And then I got jealous when I saw that Sergeant from the 104th talking to you, how he had his hands on you,” He shakes his head, an irritated look playing on his face, both at the other trooper, and his own actions on that night. “Thought I blew my shot, and I tried to cover it the only way I knew how.”
Your mind recalls him and the Twi’lek making a beeline for the 79’s freshers, how just a month ago you ended up crying in the alleyway, it was like taking a blaster bolt to your chest. No amount of Bacta could fix the pain that night, but you had certainly tried to heal it with whiskey.
“But I didn’t do it, and it’s not like Echo said, not because I couldn't,” He pulls himself back from you, but continues to hold you, to keep you in the moment with him as he explains what happens, a regretful look on his face. “It’s because she wasn’t you, Cyare.”
He presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and your fingers trace over the tattoo again, just for a moment, just until he finds the strength inside of him; the strength to override his programmed instincts to be a loyal, unattached soldier and nothing more.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t…” Fives trails off, opening his eyes. He needs to see your reaction, whether it’s good or bad, he needs to know. “Fall in love with you.”
You wonder if this is what the Jedi feel with the force around them, but instead of the whole world, you just feel Fives. The warmth of his skin under your fingers, the certainty in his eyes, the utter devotion for you in his voice as he fights against every form of conditioning he’s received.
“Fives, you idiot…” His expression is concerned at first until he sees your teary eyes and beaming smile. “I love you too.”
You had loved him since the moment he kissed your knuckles on your first day in the Medbay, every interaction after that only strengthened the bond between you.
Fives smiles down at you, his quiet laughs tickle your skin with warm air as you’re lured back into his embrace. He laughs disbelievingly, shaking his head as he allows his body to press back against yours, a perfect fit.
“We have so much time to make up for, sweetheart.” 
You never want to lose this feeling, his lips marking your body, peppering reminders everywhere that you’re his, you have been since the moment that fateful order flashed up on your datapad. You’re anchored, attached, tethered to him - whatever word you want to give it, you’re his.
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sinfulsalutations · 10 months
Note
What do you think each of your favorite clones’ guilty pleasure is? SFW and NSFW? 🤣
𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 ⋆*・゚ 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕦𝕡 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕣 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙 + 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞���𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕗𝕖
➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇx
⋆ ★ ᴏʜ, ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏɴᴇꜱ? ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴄᴋ… ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪ’ʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ!
➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
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Rex
SFW: Likes to be bathed or taken care of in the bath. While it doesn’t happen often, he loves it when you sit on his lap and scrub off the dirt on his skin, slowly massage soap onto his scalp and soothe him. Rex is not used to being taken care of or sitting back and just allowing things to happen without at least a little control, so it’s hard for him personally to come to terms with just how much he likes it, as well as even indulge himself too much when he gets the chance too.
NSFW: He wanted to record you two going at it to watch while he’s away for some time. You’d already sent him photos of yourself, domestic videos of you doing simple tasks, but none very vulgar. Now that he does have that recording, he watches it so damn much. One of his favorite ways to wind down after a hard day. Not that he’ll really admit it…
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Tup
SFW: This boy LOVES self-care days. If he has the chance, he’ll beg to do one. Paint each other's nails, wear face masks, braid hair in intricate patterns, moisturize, he lives for it. It's just an excellent way of doing the little things to keep his spirits up, expressing his own self-worth, and showing how much you’re worth it. As well as just having some sweet bonding time with his cyare.
NSFW: Loves receiving a lot. He doesn't really ask for it necessarily, and don't get me wrong, making you buck into his face and gasp from all the pleasure he's giving you is still one of his favorite things to do. He just also really enjoys sitting back and watching the person he loves on their knees, doing their utmost to please him and make him feel good. Also, Maker have you perfected it. The moment he sees you slowly sink down he's already anticipating the filthy noises that will leave his mouth.
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Crosshair
SFW: MASSIVE sweet tooth. It's his guilty pleasure for a few reasons. Firstly, well, it's unhealthy of course. They also don't get those kinds of pleasures or indulgences as a soldier. But if he gets a chance? He's gonna munch on some sour candy like a child on Halloween. It's a pretty interesting, delightful sight.
NSFW: Crosshair really, really likes it when you ride him. You rarely do it, mostly because he just can't give up that much control to you, albeit anyone, but on the rare occasions he allows it, Maker he comes so fast. You look so damn sexy on top of him, commanding his movements and taking pleasure for yourself equally without his say being a large contributor. For once, he's not in control, he's in your hands and so vulnerable and desperate... it rubs the strangest parts of his mind.
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Tech
SFW: This feels a little obvious, but sleeping late. Tech knows it's bad for him, but he just gets so much work done! His brothers aren't up distracting or pestering him, he can be left to his own devices to stray from the task at hand and deviate to another interest of his own volition, it's great! ...Yeah, you have to drag him to bed all the time.
NSFW: 👏Tie👏him👏up! Tech's hands are the most dexterous part of him and give him so much control over things- including you. And if you tie him up and render him subject to whatever you want to do, he becomes a whimpering mess. He'll suddenly be begging for any salvation, bucking his hips up and attempting to grind against you `cause you're just that damn sexy to him.
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Wolffe
SFW: Obsessed with holo dramas. Once you caught him screaming at the holo because apparently, the leading lady had made an unwise decision between the two men she was in a love triangle with, and when you asked him about it he immediately denied it. You didn't catch him watching it after that but saw him discreetly trying to find times when he thought you were asleep or working. So then you pretended that you showed interest in the drama to make him feel less bad about watching it. So now you always catch up on the latest episodes when he returns from a dispatch.
NSFW: Enjoys it when you make sorts of animalistic noises in bed. He hasn't expressed it directly, but you're beginning to catch on. He likes to sprinkle on some extra praise if you yelp or howl like a hurt puppy dog, give him those sickly eyes and whimper. And he always comes a little too hard, even letting a few growls rupturing in his stomach out to bless your ears. So in conclusion Wolffe is a furry
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a/n: definitely gonna do more of these with other characters, this was really fun! if you guys have any other characters you'd like to see with these headcanons, let me know :) ~ @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm
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neon-junkie · 1 month
Text
Private Affairs
Summary: Tasked with finding the General and the Captain, Dogma stumbles right into the midst of a private affair. To make things even worse, he rather enjoys the view… that is, until he's caught.
Word count: 4k
Tags: Established relationship, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Confrontation, Handjobs, Smut, Praise, Military ranks, Cuckolding, Virginity, First time, Dom/sub.
Pairing: Dogma x f!Reader x Rex
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Curiosity killed the lothcat, but satisfaction brought it back - or so, that’s how the phrase goes. And as satisfying as this sight may be, he knows that curiosity will be the death of him.
He shouldn’t be watching. He should not be watching, let alone enjoying the view, palming his hard cock over his under armour, his codpiece abandoned long ago. It’s not like he can help it, seeing as the poor man is a virgin through and through. It’s been drilled into his mind by the Kaminoan’s that sexual activity is strictly forbidden, but if his General and Captain can go at it, then it doesn’t hurt to watch, right?
The he in question is Dogma - a straight edge, punctual, and obedient Trooper.
Poor little Dogma was given the order to find the General and Captain, and inform them about the next stage in their current mission. They weren’t in any of the tents, nor in the surrounding area. The gunships were clear, leaving the Captain’s ship as the only remaining option.
The door was open, a clear sign that somebody was aboard, only Dogma wasn’t expecting to find them tucked away in the cockpit, kriffing like their lives depended on it. Better yet, Dogma wasn’t expecting the cockpit’s door to be wide open, welcoming just about anybody to catch them in the act!
Maybe this was some weird fetish that Dogma had been unintentionally roped into, or maybe they were too horny to shut the damn door!
Still, Dogma was the poor soul who had found you and your Captain going at it. He should have turned, ran, and never spoke a word; instead, Dogma caught himself mindlessly gorming at the action, like a Cadet discovering holoporn for the first time.
Not that Dogma has ever watched holoporn…
Dogma refuses to dabble in anything sexual. He will, on an extremely rare occasion, have a drink or two, but always manages to resist the urge to get drunk! He doesn’t smoke, nor do drugs, and only swears during life or death circumstances. All in all, he’s a total virgin, which would explain why his eyes are prying to a whole new level.
And when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he felt himself hardening, causing his codpiece to bulge uncomfortably. It took him a lot of convincing to remove the armour, seeing as it was causing him discomfort, just like it took even more convincing to let him finally touch himself.
“Just do it to help the pain… or until it goes down… or until they stop… or-” Dogma told himself, biting down hard on his lower lip to prevent himself from letting out a moan. How wonderful it felt, jerking off to the sight of his General being kriffed, all by Captain Rex, of course.
Everybody had a hunch that something was going on between those two, but nobody had ever caught them! How funny it is that Dogma is the one to discover the truth, and kriff, the truth is that they have some really intimate sex. Rex has you pushed face-down over the cockpit’s dashboard, taking you from behind. Your legs are spread, arms behind your back, with Rex’s hand firmly holding them in place. The ‘slap slap slap!’ sound of skin against skin is echoing around the ship - a warning for those with prying eyes, although that hasn’t stopped Dogma.
Throughout moans and groans, you’re mumbling away. “G-gotta hurry up, Rex. Someone’s going to come looking for us soon,” you pant, and you’re met with a shrug.
Dogma feels himself tense up at your comment - are you aware that he’s there, watching you two? Does the force work like that? Or is Dogma awful at being stealthy?
Still, if you two are aware of Dogma’s presence, it hasn’t changed anything. You’re still kriffing away, eager to let out some frustrations, and relieve yourselves before regaining your focus on the mission at hand. The last thing that the squad needs is a sexually frustrated General and Captain!
By now, your ass and the back of your thighs have turned red from Rex’s armour pounding against you. The sight only causes Dogma to stir even more, biting his knuckles as he feels himself getting closer. Sure, he’s touched himself here and there, but refuses to make a habit out of it. Plus, it’s difficult to get the time and privacy when you’re a soldier, but the others seem to make do.
Better yet, you and Rex seem to manage it. How did this all start? How long has this been going on for? Dogma would never dream of approaching his General with sexual intentions, unless you came onto Rex?
And if you came onto somebody else, how would that go? Dogma finds himself picturing what things would be like if you propositioned him instead - uneducated, timid, and total virgin. He wouldn’t even know where to start, let alone how to touch you. Although, Dogma knows you’re the type who would be eager to teach him. Could he ever kriff you like that? Pounding you deep and hard, making you cum untouched like Rex is right now?
With that, Rex lets out a long and deep groan, slamming his cock deep and spilling inside of you. Dogma firmly grasps the base of his cock to prevent himself from climaxing when Rex pulls out of you, revealing your used cunt, dripping with his load. How he longs to be in that position, filling his General up like it’s nobody’s business!
Now, the issues really begin to arise. You and Rex have finished your business, and now that you’re distracted cleaning each other up, Dogma has the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He needs to get his ass out of there now!
Pulling his under armour up and into place, Dogma begins searching for his codpiece. He could have sworn that he left it between his feet, yet it’s nowhere to be seen! It doesn’t help that the ship is dark, and somewhat cluttered with your personal belongings, but it was right there, wasn’t it?
Rummaging around, Dogma walks straight into his worst nightmare. He bends down to retrieve what he thought was his codpiece, but after realising that nope, that’s not it, he bangs his head on an overhead pipe.
DONG!
The sound is loud enough to be heard throughout the campsite, so undoubtedly, you and Rex overheard it! “Who’s there?” you question as you whip around, no longer sharing a few final kisses with Rex before exiting the ship to face your Troops. Instead, you’re darting across the cockpit to push a few buttons, lighting the ship’s hull within an instant.
And you’re met with an unbelievable sight…
One hand rubbing his bruising forehead, Dogma makes eye contact with you. The fear is apparent, given that all the colour has drained from his face, and he looks just about ready to collapse.
Rex speaks up before you can, simply questioning, “Dogma?”
No reply. He’s getting sweatier by the minute, so sweaty that his face tattoo might just melt away!
“Dogma?” you repeat his name. Before you can even finish your next sentence, Dogma begins begging for forgiveness. “What were you doin-”
“-I’m sorry!” He practically yells. “I didn’t mean to! I was sent to look for you two, and I just… it happened, alright?!”
Tears are threatening to spill from Dogma’s waterline. To him, this is the end of it all. No doubt, he’ll be blackmailed into keeping his mouth shut (not that it would open anyway,) then sent off for decommissioning.
“-Dogma, it’s alright!” you cut his apology short. “We’re not mad, okay?”
“I don’t believe you,” Dogma replies, firmly shaking his head.
“She means it,” Rex chimes in. “We’re not mad. Nothing is going to happen to you, understood, Trooper?”
Still as white as a ghost, Dogma sheepishly nods his head, begrudgingly accepting both of your reassurance. You might not decommission him, but you will certainly punish him, seeing as he was getting off to your little shenanigans.
Bridging the gap, you approach him. Dogma refuses to make eye contact, keeping his head down and arms at his side. He’s more than embarrassed - he feels like his soul has left his body, and you’re certainly not going to help him retrieve it. Or so, he thinks.
You look back at Rex, who remains in the cockpit, before turning back to Dogma. A hand comes up to gently cup his chin, forcing him to look forward, although his eyes remain down, refusing to look at you.
“Look at me, Dogma,” you order. It takes him a few seconds, followed by a large gulp of air, before Dogma can finally meet your gaze. His stomach is churning away, threatening to throw up his ration bars, all whilst his body begins shaking from pure fear.
“What were you doing?” you ask.
Dogma yanks his chin from your grasp, returning his gaze to the floor, yet he doesn’t run away. His body is failing him, glueing his feet to the floor, unable to escape this madness.
“Dogma,” you say his name, but with sternness. The Trooper in question ignores you, his fingertips fidgeting with each other as his nerves control his every movement.
After letting out a deep sigh, you fall back onto a method that you hate doing. Dogma is a soldier, and seeing as you’re his General, he has to follow your every order.
“Stand at attention,” you order. Automatically, Dogma snaps upright, his arms falling to his sides as his eyes look forwards, straight past you. It’s not eye contact, but it’s better than the whimpering state he was in before.
“To repeat myself, Trooper, you are not in trouble. No harm is going to come your way, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t be questioned. Understood?”
“Understood, General,” Dogma agrees with a firm nod. There’s still fear deep within his eyes, although you notice that his breathing is beginning to relax. It’s not much, but it’s progress.
“And Captain,” Rex chimes in. He’s moved from the cockpit, taking his place beside you and Dogma. Rex is essentially in the background, but his presence is known.
“And Captain,” Dogma corrects himself.
Rex lets out a soft, “good,” before letting you continue.
After sending Rex a scolding look, you silently browse Dogma’s form before speaking up again. “I want to know what you were doing, Trooper. Don’t skip out on any details.”
Dogma gulps. He lets out an uneasy breath, and with much difficulty, begins his confession. “Like I said before, the other Troopers ordered me to go and find you both so that we could go over the next stages of the mission. When I boarded your ship, I was completely unaware of what I’d find. The cockpit door was wide open, and I… stumbled upon you two…”
“That would be my fault,” Rex chuckles. “I got a little carried away, forgot to secure the area before diving right in.”
“You have such a way with words,” you sigh, earning another chuckle from Rex. “Do continue, Trooper.”
Dogma pauses once more, only this time, he makes eye contact. There’s a silent plea deep within his gaze, but you don’t let up. After a few seconds of silence, and accepting his fate, Dogma continues.
“I… you two… It was so… out there in the open, and I couldn’t help but watch. I know I shouldn’t have! But… I don’t know what came over me, I was so engulfed in it…”
This time, you’re the silent one. You raise a brow, questioning Dogma’s words. You’re well aware how straight edge he is, sometimes being called uptight by the other Troopers. But to become that engulfed in seeing people have sex? Has this man ever seen it before?
Well, what if he hasn’t? There must be a reason why the other Troopers tease him, calling him a virgin, and every other innocent name under the sun. Maker, has Dogma even seen boobs before?!
“Are you…” your words fall flat, and you put thought into how to word this. “Dogma, I know you don’t… do that stuff, but you have seen people having sex before, right? Holoporn, or something like that?”
Dogma’s colour begins to fade again, and suddenly, you understand why Dogma became so engrossed. “I don’t… uh, Kamino doesn’t have access to such things. We’re discouraged when it comes to… intimacy. I know the other Troopers tend to watch it, but I…”
“Interesting,” you sigh. Crossing your arms across your chest, you playfully bounce on your heels before straightening your figure. All this prying is rather fascinating, and dare you admit it, but it’s giving you… ideas.
“Tell me,” you speak up again. “What were you doing whilst you were watching your superiors having sex?”
“Superiors,” Rex repeats the word under his breath. “You don’t need to be that mean to him.”
“A little reminder doesn’t hurt,” you shrug, enjoying the sight of Dogma squirming from embarrassment.
Dogma’s lips remain sealed, but after giving him a look, they finally open. “Please don’t make me talk about it,” he begs, clasping his hands together in front of his chest.
“We need those details, Trooper,” you smirk. Rex remains silent, but he’s well aware how much you’re enjoying this.
A pained groan slips from Dogma’s lips, followed by a frustrated huff. “If you must know…” his words trail into a sigh, and Dogma scrunches his eyes shut before continuing. “I was touching myself! I know I shouldn’t have, but everything was so… much, and I couldn’t watch and do nothing about it!” To your surprise, Rex speaks up before you can. “You could have turned around, and walked away. Not only did you stay and watch, but you also pleasured yourself to it.”
“I know I should have walked away! But like I said, I’ve never seen that before… and… and-”
“That’s enough,” you end his sputtering with a gentle wave of your hand. Dogma watches as you turn to Rex, and silently make your intentions clear. His eyes flicker between you two, somehow talking without using words. The conversation ends with Rex shrugging before giving you a small nod, agreeing to something.
You return your focus to Dogma, who doesn’t hide his panicked expression. His demeanour worsens as you take a step forward, bridging the already small gap between your bodies. You’re mere inches from him, close enough to feel his short and uneasy breaths on your cheeks, them only worsening as more time passes.
For once, Dogma doesn’t look away from your gaze. He allows your eyes to meet his, seeing through every layer of fear that possesses his body. When you finally speak, Dogma is just about ready to pass out, but adrenalin keeps him going.
“Did you enjoy watching your superiors have sex?”
Dogma remains silent, but you don’t need verbal confirmation to know the answer. “I mean, you were getting off to us,” you coo.
To everybody’s surprise, your hand moves forward, and a palm is introduced to Dogma’s crotch. He gasps, his head falling down to look at the sight - you’re palming his soft cock through his under armour, all whilst you’re teasing him in a rather alluring tone.
“I know you enjoyed it, Dogma. That much is clear,” you continue, causing Dogma to look at you once more. “But I can tell that you didn’t get to finish, you poor thing,” you say with a soft click of your tongue.
“General?” Dogma pants, questioning what the kriff is going on. A minute ago, his knees were ready to collapse, falling to his pit of doom. And now, you’re causing his cock to harden, twitching away under the thin layer of clothing.
“Don’t interrupt her, Trooper,” Rex chimes in. Kriff! Dogma had totally forgotten Rex was there. His hands are clasped behind his back, chest puffed out, with a stern expression on his face. Is Dogma really going to stand here and allow his General to toy with him whilst his Captain watches? Is this what they silently agreed to moments ago?
“Eyes on me,” you order, your free hand coming up to draw his face back to yours. “Rex is there to ensure you stay in line. You are one of his men, after all.”
For some reason, Dogma catches himself nodding in agreement. He’s enjoying this, far more than he’s willing to admit, but his fully erect cock is telling you all that you need to know.
“How about you show me what you were playing with, hm?” you suggest, giving Dogma the opportunity to back out, if he wants to.
Instead, Dogma slowly frees his cock, letting it spring from its confinement. He lets out an embarrassing whimper when you wrap your hand around it, one hand lunging forward to grasp your arm, almost as if he’s scared about what’s in store for him.
“At ease, Trooper,” you order. Dogma can’t help but follow it, parting his legs whilst his hands clasp together behind his back. His back straightens for all of three seconds, slumping over as soon as you begin slowly jerking him.
“You’re so good at following orders,” you praise. Such a compliment never fails to drive Dogma crazy, and your words flow straight down to his cock. “But I still want to know what you were thinking about whilst you were watching your Captain kriff me…”
Licking his lips, Dogma mustered up the courage to speak. “I was thinking about… being in his position…”
“Don’t forget Rex’s ranking, Trooper,” you correct him.
“Sorry. About being in the Captain’s position, General,” Dogma corrects his mistake, earning a pleasing movement from your hand. Once more, he whines; there’s no point in holding back, not now that he’s in this position.
“Finding yourself in that position would be… almost unattainable, but not completely impossible. Rex is the one who you need to ask, not me.”
Dogma sends a pathetic pleading expression Rex’s way, but he’s met with a stern look. “I’ll think about it,” Rex responds. “As for now, your primary objective is making the General happy.”
“Yes, Captain,” Dogma agrees with an eager nod. His breaths are becoming heavier the more you play with him, and you question how long he was going at it before you caught him. The poor man could have been edging himself the entire time, and whilst you and Rex were only having a quickie, that’s far too long for an inexperienced man.
“If Rex doesn’t agree, I’m sure I can convince him to let you watch,” you tease the idea, dangling it in front of his face like a forbidden fruit. “I know you’d enjoy that, seeing as you’ve already done it.”
“I wouldn’t mind having him watch,” Rex says with a shrug. “But I won’t be gentle with you,” he directs his words to you, filling your mind with the idea. How wonderful it would be to have your Captain pounding the life out of you, all whilst innocent Dogma watches, cock in hand, so desperate to get his fill. He’ll take whatever he can get, and right now, that consists of you jerking him off in the hull of your ship.
“I know you’re already excited about that idea,” you tease.
“I am,” Dogma eagerly nods, and swiftly adds, “General,” before he can be called out on his lack of respect.
You smile, and whilst maintaining eye contact, you send a trail of spit down onto Dogma’s cock. It hits the tip spot-on, slicking up the rest of his shaft as you continue pumping him. Dogma’s knees threaten to buckle yet again, but he somehow manages to maintain his composure, hands still clasped behind his back.
With a hungry gaze, Dogma watches you jerk him off, his wet cock shining in the hull’s lighting. He’s never seen himself like this before - desperate, pathetic, willing to do anything for release. Dare he admit it, but he loves it. Maybe this is what he’s needed all along - a gentle hand to guide him. If only the other Troopers could see him now… Dogma may be a virgin, but who’s the one being jerked off by the General?
“G-general?” Dogma sputters, failing to meet your gaze. It’s disrespectful, but given the state that he’s in, you decide to go easy on it.
“Speak,” you grant him.
“Please… if it isn’t any hassle… please may I…”
“You may,” you agree with a nod. Dogma just about explodes the second that he’s given permission, spilling all over your hand, a few rogue drops meeting the floor below.
Falling out of line, Dogma finds himself resting against you. His forehead meets your shoulder, although he manages to keep his hand behind his back. He’s trying to be a good soldier - your good soldier, but any Trooper would fail to stay at ease when being milked by their General, even Rex!
Rather than scolding him, you help him through it. “It’s alright. You did so good for me, Dogma. What a good soldier,” you coo, allowing him one final round of satisfaction.
When all the wind has been knocked from Dogma’s lungs, he straightens his back - or attempts to, seeing as he’s struggling to keep it together during his post orgasm haze. Your hand moves away from him, and using the force, you summon a towel to clean yourselves up with. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” you ask whilst drying Dogma’s length.
“Very fun, General,” Dogma agrees with a nod. Even Rex chimes in. “You did a good job at maintaining your composure, for a first timer,” he jabs.
“Appreciate it, Captain,” Dogma responds.
Once dry, he tucks himself away. “We’re serious about that offer, just so you know,” you inform him whilst retrieving his long-lost codpiece.
“Y-you are?” Dogma stutters, and struggles to fix the missing armour into place, soon requiring your assistance.
“Yes,” you confirm. Once more, Dogma looks as if he’s about to pass out. Not only did he manage to worm his way out of decommissioning, but he was rewarded for his curiosity too! Dogma can’t help but question if you knew about his prying eyes all along, giving you the opportunity to bring him into the mix.
“But I haven’t decided on anything else, yet,” Rex butts in, putting Dogma back down into his place. Dogma keeps his gaze on you, dreading the expression that Rex possibly holds.
“Still, you can watch the action. And remember, Rex is a Captain; his performance is far higher than any regular Trooper. Don’t let it get to you.”
After a wink, you leave Dogma to it. Rex follows suit, retrieving his helmet from a nearby crate, and holds it snug under his arm. To anybody outside, you’re two superiors casually exiting a ship, ready to rally the men and discuss your next series of attacks.
Before your feet meet the earth, you turn back to poor Dogma. “Come and join us once you’re ready,” you order, leaving him to stand there and process what’s just happened.
No longer in his superior’s line of sight, Dogma takes a seat on a nearby crate, narrowly avoiding that same pipe from earlier that he banged his head on. A series of heavy sighs flow from his lips, and his mind spins in a whirlwind of confusion.
What the kriff just happened?
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echoedcrosshairs · 9 months
Text
Foxglove ~ Commander Fox x F reader (part 2)
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According the language of flowers Foxglove symbolizes riddles, conundrums and secrets along with ambition and creativity.
Summary: A small fancy caff shops pops up in the senate building. Commander Fox is not amused.
Slow burn, enemies? to lovers, Commander Fox x reader, Commander Thorn x reader (platonic)
Warnings: Angst, Smut, implied smut, cannon violence and talks of cannon related violence, exhibitionism if ya squint, insulting banter, soft gentleman kix
part one part three
Masterlist
3.8k words
A few droids milled about dragging in sorted furniture waiting for their instructions on where to put it. Within a couple hours the space had slowly started to look like a proper coffee shop. The counter had been set up so people could watch their drinks be made and various small tables lined the wall. You let yourself stop to stare at the almost completed cafe, amazed about how quickly it all came together and how fast it was approved. It was a dream come true especially with Senator Chuchi walks in her mouth agape as she takes in the space.
"If you weren't a senator, I would hug you," you said excitedly joining in with your own awestruck expression, "I can not thank you enough."
She smiled, surprisingly gave you hug while rambling her happiness about being able to do something for the troopers even if it something small. You talked back and forth for a while telling her about the ideas for drinks, future decor and maybe even have low music playing because of how quiet the hall usually is. Both of you talked until she was pages that it was time for another vote. She hugged you one more time saying she wishes the establishment the best as her personal escort lead her away. Waving her off you noticed Fox and Thorn in the hallway nodding to her as they walked out of the elevator.
Fox looked at you through his visor noticing how the happiness of your smile touched your eyes even as you found another stack of boxes out the door. Hidden by his helmet which concealed a smile but as quick as he noticed it, it was gone. He grumbled a complaint about needing to divide the hall for incoming foot traffic which got him a tiny shove from Thorn to get moving. His eyes lingered on you as you came out to grab more boxes, fixed on the way your lips parted when you picked up the heaviest box trying to breath and mentally scowled you for lifting with your back not your knees.
"Usually we have to drag you for a night out as why are you volunteering to go?" Thorn questioned elbowing him again to get his attention.
"Choosing to go on my own volition, you want to question it?"
"I think getting laid had something to do with it, hopefully she's there again tonight," Fox didn't need to see Thorns face to hear the wiggle of his eyebrows.
"So you and the barista?" Fox said bitterly taking the attention off himself.
Thorn said your name shocked, "No. She's cute, but not my type."
"Warn her about Wolffe?" Fox asked nonchalantly.
"I'm surprised you care, Vod, but yes."
I don't care, but the comment died on his tongue as he thought about the woman last night with the uncanny striking resemblance. His temper attempted to flare up but he shoved it under the surface like he did everything else. She was naive and fresh without a real thought about what was honestly needed, putting her foot where it doesn't belong subsequently causing him even more work. Within the silent concealment of his helmet he muttered a string of curses in every language he knew about how bad of idea about it was while not being able to deny how it would make so many vods happy having another place just for them. Fox looked across the hall seeing Thorn pack up for the day and started reluctantly putting away his work annoyed about how early it was even if it was the normal time for everyone else. He kept quiet as Thorn knocked on the doorframe pulling you out of your work alerting you that it was time to go and that they were be escorting home them back to 79's. Fox did his best to tune out the conversation regretting his decision to come two nights in a row.
"I don't think he's paying attention," Thorn chuckled after the three of you left your apartment which left you in a more elegant black dress, "Wolffe's going to fuck his date on our table, your codpiece fell, your mom is a hutt, I saw the chancellor go by."
You wide eyed stared at him before laughing the air out of your lungs as the comments got more and more outrageous as Fox didn't reply as he just kept looking off. Thorn grabbed your arm for a second watching Fox continuing to walk without both of you which then caused Thorn to buckle over at Fox only noticed at the end of the street waiting at the crosswalk. Wiping the laughter tears from your eye, "I needed that," you admitted.
"Both of you need to grow up."
As much as you wanted to correct him that you were biologically older then them, you were going to allow him that punch for dealing with the both of you. Arriving at 79's both of you found Rex and Wolffe already waiting with drinks. Yourself and Thorn slipped into the side with Wolffe leaving you between both of them with Rex and Thorn on the other side.
"I apparently don't need to threaten you with your batch mates, Fox," Rex coughed to cover his laughter as a man in green was strolling over.
"Ma'am," the man greeted sitting down, "Commander Gree," he introduced taking off his helmet setting it in his lap.
You greeted him with your name, "How do you know their batch mates?" You whispered to Thorn.
"Gree is CC-1004 and Fox is CC-1010.... also never call a trooper by their number unless asked," Thorn whispered more about manners around being around clones, "So what brings you into night, Gree?" Thorn interjected.
"Bad day," he replied flatly grabbing the drink from the service droid, "Lost a lot of good men."
Mournfully they clicked their glasses together before slamming them down. Gree apologized to you about talking about the war with a lady around, "No need to sensor yourself for my sake, it's the harsh truth about what's going on."
"Get a load of this, this grub wanted to help. Opening a caf shop in my hall," Fox grunted before his jaw went noticeably tight as you all heard the stomp on his foot, "Don't make me call Bacara, no way to address or treat a lady."
Fox rolled his eyes taking a drink, "Sorry," he sneered. You drove him nuts, he hated how blind you were to the world around you and the harsher facts of what they all go through and endure but the sentiment you had nipped at him like walking through ice without the proper gear.
You gave him a small nod, even if it was a fake apology it was still more then yesterday. Wolffe squinted at him for a moment before rolling his eyes also realizing the small change in his demeanor having Gree around. The six of you went on chatting until the women from yesterday appeared at the counter again. Rex elbowed Fox pointing at the counter with his pinky pointing out the woman. He ignored her stares at him choosing to sip on his beer instead maintaining the conversation about containing the unrest that was been breaking out recently. You and the woman eyed each other apprehensively before she looked at Fox with a shit eating grinning before turning her attention back to the bar. I wonder what that was about. Feeling eyes on you looking back at the table, Fox was glaring at you with an unreadable expression but you could see the fire dancing in his iris's.
"Want to go dance?" Wolffe whispered leaning into your ear noticing the tension, "For a breather, that's it."
Fox looked across at this Vod whispering whatever in your ear receiving an innocent smile over it. Finally he looked up at the woman at the counter with her back to him not realizing his finger had started tapping against the table until Gree flicked his habit, "Something on your mind?" Fox watched Wolffe and you slip away with a scowl on Thorn's face, "Di'kut." Fox grumbled about not wanting tears in his caf even though both of you were doing but laughing. He shook his head annoyed further by your presence of you running off with the known heartbreaker. He watched your hips sway to the beat and the small blushful glances you gave Wolffe while you ignored all of the various sets of eyes on you.  So innocent and wreckless... Fox sighed setting down the glass and stood up.
You watched Fox excuse himself from the table making his way up the woman at the bar. Wolffe's grip on you got a little firmer drawing your attention back to him. His expression was uncannily soft, "I don't know what his problem with you is, but I appreciate what you're doing."
"Thank's Wolffe."
"I think I need to I'll give you back to Thorn," Wolffe chuckled, "If looks could kill," he said spinning you around having you face the table gently pushing you towards it, "I'm not as bad as they say," he admitted, "most of the time."
"Anything you say Mr. Flirt," you teased, "I'm going to use the refresher."
"We'll be waiting ma'am," he teased back, giving you his signature grin.
It was almost surprising having a woman's refresher in the soldiers bar. Pushing the door open walking through a load moan caught your attention. Turning your head you saw the indecent position Fox had the woman from the bar in, her legs spread wide and her top pulled down with his hands covering her breast clawing into them as he continued thrusting into her glaring at you. Her eyes were still closed not realizing the interruption nor his distracted attention. You heard the low threatening growl that escaped him, seeing the glow in his eyes shadowed by the still growing lust and how his breathing was growing even raggeder. Red burned across your face realized you were there a moment to long you quickly ran out of the bathroom taking a quick detour to the men's refresher to do your business, "the women's is occupied," you said awkwardly, "usually is," they laughed knowing what was going on, "We'll step outside real quick," the soldiers said. You thanked them as you left still red faced walking back to the table thankful Fox hadn't return.
"You okay, Ma'am?" Gree asked.
"Traumatized," you said finishing the rest of yours and Thorns drink, "Should have warned me about the use for the woman's refresher."
Rex looked at the counter noticing the absence of Fox and the woman, "Ah, yes that tends to happen. Most of the time no one cares, Apologies."
The image of her, the serene look on her face being on the counter wouldn't leave your mind even covered in a thin coat of sweat she was still beautiful but that wasn't what was really bothering you, it was that she was tinier then you for some reason it would have made you doubt your beauty besides the several troopers eying you. Or the expression on Fox's face, it wasn't anger that you had interrupted him but just like him it was unreadable. Or the way the growl had made you feel like the temperature in the room had risen exponentially.
"Are you okay?" Thorn whispered.
"Yeah, just don't know how I'm going to face him at work."
"Speaking of which," Gree said looking up watching the two of them walk out of the bathroom and the glow across her face, "Unfortunately being around soldiers you will undoubtedly witness several... compromising situations," he added, "It is an adjustment."
"It could have been worse, they could have been naked," Wolffe shrugged.
Rex covered his face and shook his head, "Wolffe has a point, however you should decide if you want to face him now or later," he said noticing them walking this way.
"Later," you admitted.
Rex let out a loud whistle, "Kix!" he said waving over one of the blue soldiers, "Walk the lady home, brother's and I got to talk."
"Yes, Sir. Ma'am," Kix said offering his arm to you as you slide over Thorn and got out.
"Get her home safe trooper," Thorn scoffed with a threatening edge, "I'll try to keep Fox out of your hair tomorrow, maybe slip an order into his office to put up flyers or something."
"Thanks Thorn."
You eyed Kix noticing the bright red medic mark on his shoulder, "I'm sorry they pulled you away from your night of relaxation," you said sincerely.
"I am happy to be of service," he said quickly, "I take it your a fresh face around here" he asked.
"Second night," you admitted.
Thorn glared at Rex, "Why couldn't I just walk her home or to a different bar?" Before he looked up at the squint on Fox's face, "I will never understand him."
Fox's eyes danced between Thorn and Wolffe wondering what he had missed and as to why she was going home with one of the 501st. He left the woman at the counter before standing at the end of the table tapping his foot, "What." he said as more of a statement then a question.
"Did you really have to use the refresher to get your rocks off, Vod?" Gree scowled, "They're are actually woman present."
"Figured it was more private then on a table."
"Did you have to pick the girl who looks like her?" Thorn asked.
"More like she picked me," Fox shrugged sitting down, feeling the thump on the back of his head from Gree, "Apologize."
"She's just a civvie-"
"How many civs have you met that actually care? That don't just look at us like republic property but as actual men? You live here on Coruscant and see the discrimination, scowls and snide comments, you most of all should appreciate the gesture regardless of how useful it is," Gree poked, "Thorn how many pots of caf do you propose the guard goes through on a daily basis?"
Ah that's why I was told to stay, "Minimum, fifty on a bad day? Over a two hundred."
"Precisely, now with an added location there will be less wait times and the availability for stronger drinks and it seems like a morale boost," Rex chimed in, "I don't know what your problem is with someone caring but you need to rein it in. Civs don't know what we go through on a daily bases but she seems to want to know and you're setting a bad example."
"Explains why you had the medic walk her home," Wolffe mumbled.
"Kix is a gentleman."
Kix's hand went through your hair as he kissed against the wall to your apartment shielding you with his body and arm as a neighbor walked by. The kisses were warm and passionate but still modest. Your fingers found the back of his head before running them down his chiseled jaw. He pulled himself away grabbing his helmet off the floor, "Good evening ma'am," he smiled.
You watched him walk down the hall, "Kix!" you called stopping him in his tracks, "If you're not busy tonight..." you nervously asked watching him turn around, "You could be busy if you wanted too," flames danced across your stomach at your boldness.
Kix swapped balance from foot to foot debating if Rex would approve or not before heading towards you, "Whatever you want to do this evening is fine with me," he said awkwardly walking himself inside the opening door after you.
"I think she's having a good night," Wolffe chuckled playfully elbowing Rex, "Such a gentleman."
"Kix probably got called to the med bay," Rex defended.
"I'm sure their playing Doctor and patient," he teased further grinning.
Fox excused himself for the table heading towards the door, the woman from the bar followed him, "Duty calls, have a good evening," he said putting his helmet on retracing his steps back to the apartment.
"Really Wolffe," Gree uttered.
Rex messaged Kix with nearly an instant reply saying he would be indisposed for the evening. Rex let out a groan which got a snicker out of Wolffe. Thorn stared at the door debating if he should go after him, but no one knew what was really going on in his mind he looked to Gree who shook his head, "Leave him be."
Fox found himself at the door of your apartment, he took a deep breath before knocking. Finding you standing there half naked in a Gar issued black long sleeve shirt with the door open his eyes trailed over finding the neat pile of armor with the white and blue bucket sitting to the side. His fist bawled at this side but he stood there staring down at you and the puzzled expression on your face.
"Can I help you, Commander?" Kix asked formally walking over in his black pants with his chest bare.
Fox wanted to snap at him about getting court marshaled but knew he was no better and the red medic symbol on his shoulder plate stopped him, "Can you excuse us for a moment?" he said.
Kix looked to you for a moment seeing your little nod before heading back to the bedroom but leaving the room cracked just so he could listen pausing the sappy holofilm what was playing.
"Yes, Commander Fox?" you asked bitterly, his silence feeling as if it was going to consume time itself.
"You have the sophistication of a Gungan, the hopes of a child and the foresight of a foot step but I wanted to apologize for the position you found me."
"That was a shitty apology, insulting me. You mean glaring at me as you continued to fuck her? Next time lock the door Foxy," you slammed the door in his face.
Fox didn't flinch at how loud it was as the vibration rippled across the underside of his boot pad. Rage boiled up, he thought for minute that his gloves were going to burst. He raised his arm to knock on the door again, he must have subconsciously did because the door flew open again.
"What," you snapped.
"Don't call me Foxy," he growled, "Do you accept my apology or not?"
"I have been nothing but nice to you. At every turn you've done nothing but insult me but you know what? I'll accept it if you leave."
"Then that's not really accepting it."
"It wasn't really an apology, either," you snapped back, "Now if you don't mind I'm busy."
"Have fun getting discarded," Fox turned on his heel marching off.
"Doshing Bantha insufferable-" You started rattling off curses by the time Kix walked back out and put his arms around you, "Come back to bed, I'll make more popcorn... I may have ate the rest waiting."
"Fark, sorry," you mumbled heading towards the kitchen making more before he could, "Thanks for keeping me company," you said watching him follow you leaning against the counter.
"I will admit... it's a good movie," he grinned, "Don't tell Captain Rex."
"Scared he'll think your soft?" You teased.
"Endless teasing," Kix humored opening the microwave grabbing the hot bowl of popcorn, "Now let's go see if he gets the girl."
Fox took himself back to the office and shoved his nose into his work in attempts to keep himself from having to face his brothers and to keep himself from heading back to your apartment. At some point he most have been fallen asleep because his head flew forward hearing brotherly laughter. He stood up seeing how early it was and that he must have indeed fallen asleep, quickly he got up and stretched his legs peering inside finding you, Thorn, the trooper from last night and Rex.
“Come on, Kix, it’s just hazelnut espresso,” you smiled waving the coffee under his nose hoping the scent of hazelnut would entice him.
“Fine,” he replied defeated taking the cup.
“Velvet for you,” you said handing another cup to Thorn, “Basic vanilla for the Captain,” you said handing Rex a cup “and Butter pecan for me.” You barely got to sip it before noticing Fox in the doorway, you got up silently making him a cup of the darkest expresso topping it with chocolate milk and chocolate syrup, “Mocha for you,” you said flatly handing him a cup before retaking your set at the table.
“This… is dangerously delicious,” Kix stated drinking more.
“A little to sweet,” Rex admitted watching you grab the cup from him to pour some of it out and fill back up with regular coffee, “Better.”
“Only two pumps then,” you mumbled scratching down the note looking at Thorn waiting, “Maybe one more pump?” he said arching an eyebrow. You grabbed the coffee taking a sip, “Would be better as a latte, hold on.” You dumped out the cup and remade it for him. “Flavorful.”
“How is yours Commander Fox?” you asked cordially.
“It’s fine, Ma’am.”
“Did he apologize?” Thorn asked.
“In his own way.”
“While interrupting her this time,” Fox gridded out taking another sip of the chocolate substance.
“It is not what you think, we stayed in and watched movies. That is it,” Kix said defensively had Rex glaring at him.
“Kix was the perfect gentleman.”
Rex’s glare flattered into a smile, “Told you.”
“So why were you in his shirt and him just in his pants?” Fox pointed out stepping into the room closer.
“Some people choose to cuddle to be close but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you just screw strangers on bathroom counters,” you snapped back at him airing what wasn’t his story to tell.
You two were toe to toe glaring at each other, “At least I don’t invite strangers into my domicile,” he countered.
“At least I don’t enjoy being intruded upon.”
“Break it up,” Thorn said grabbing Fox and pulling him back.
“At least I don’t stand there gawking before leaving.”
“At least I’m not doing in a public refresher counter like a pig.”
“I wasn’t the only one you who seemed to enjoy it,” Fox bared his teeth before he felt Thorn’s hands pulling him back. His nostrils were flaring and his chest was heaving as he stared down at you feeling something in his core flutter as you didn’t back down under his gaze.
“Break it up,” Rex said standing between both of you, “This isn’t like you Fox.”
“Such a pleasant man,” you scowled watching Thorn escort him from the room.
You gathered the empty cups tasking them into the recycler before moving over to clean the equipment. Awkwardly Kix and Rex stayed at the table whispering back and forth as they waited for you to returned. Sitting down you rested your head on Kix’s shoulder.
“Movies tonight?” Kix whispered trying to ease the tension he saw in your posture, “I still have another rotation off.”
Before you could answer you could hear the shouting match erupt in the hall between Thorn and Fox. The three of you got up and headed into the hall knowing it was about to be a long long day.
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zoeykallus · 4 months
Note
Hm? *gets hit in the face with a note* GAH- *opens the note* another request? But it’s with- *ahem* “I request Reader x Crosshair but make it with Pheromones please-” Oh no…
Aloha!
You are getting a lot of those notes, aren't you? 😁 Well, as it happens, I actually have an idea for a scenario like this, I'm telling you I gathered the wildest ideas in my fever dreams 😅
Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot -
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Warnings: 'Good old' Pollen Trope/ Smut/ 18+/ Bondage/ Dubious Consent/PiV Sex/ Dirty Talk/ Strong Language/ Oral/ Feral Crosshair/ Graphic Description Of Sexual Actions/Overstimulating
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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
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AC: I feel like I've not written anything like this in years. Which of course isn't true, but it still feels like it. But I think I like what came out of this.
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Crosshair keeps sneezing as you make your way back from your little expedition. The rest of the group is on an errand with Rex and his shuttle. You and Crosshair have stayed behind. Curiosity has driven you into the surrounding landscape of the Marauders' landing site. Even though Crosshair has no interest in the surrounding flora and fauna, he reluctantly came along, saying, "I guess I can't let you go off on your own. If anything happens to you, I will never hear the end of it when the others come back" You take off your gear when you get back, at least the things you don't need at the moment, as he sneezes again. Crosshair sighs and rubs his temples. You frown critically and say, "You should have used an air filter, like me" "Nonsense," he grumbles. "Well, I don't have to sneeze," you reply, shrugging your shoulders. He rolls his eyes and waves you off. "Just some pollen, nothing more, it'll be over in a minute" You pick up your data pad and say, "Some pollen can be dangerous, Cross"
When you call him by the pet name you're the only one to use, he rolls his eyes again, but he doesn't complain. He doesn't want to admit it, but somehow he likes that you've given him a nickname. It shows that you like him, and he likes the idea, but he won't admit that either. You browse through some information about the planet, especially the fauna, and suddenly stop. Something you've discovered makes you nervous. "See," he says contentedly, "it's stopped already, I don't have to sneeze anymore, it's all half as bad" When you don't answer, he turns back to you after taking off his armor. "Since when are you so quiet?" Again, you don't answer, you're engrossed in the information about a particular plant you've found. "Hey, Kitten," he says impatiently, "are you even listening to me?" You look up and ask him critically, "Why did you take off your armor? It's the middle of the day" Crosshair shrugs and says, "It's warm in here, and it's more comfortable without it" You say critically, "I don't think it's warm in here" He grumbles, "Well, I do"
"Any other symptoms?" you ask, a little alarmed. Crosshair reaches for your holopad, takes it from your hand, and skims the article you've just read. Depending on the amount of pollen inhaled...Heat flushes, sneezing, headache, followed by extremely increased libido, sexual desire bordering on animalistic proportions, loss of control... High probability of becoming a danger to yourself and those around you. If left untreated, the condition ends in extremely high fever, which can lead to brain damage or even death. No medical treatment options. Only treatment option is sexual relief (sexual intercourse/sexual acts that lead to repeated orgasms) "What the hell are you reading? Is that a guide to one of those dirty little stories you sometimes write?" Startled, you stare at him. "What?" Crosshair smirks, shrugging his shoulders in a suggestive manner. "Well, you fell asleep writing the other day and your pad was still on, just lying there. I took a quick look over it. It was pretty clear quickly what you were writing" You feel hot and cold, you're not sure exactly how much he's read, and you wonder if he realizes that you're imagining him as you write. But another thought outweighs your shame, your worry.
You scroll back up a bit on the pad that's still in his hands, point to the picture of a flower and say, "No, that's an article about this plant. We walked through a field of these flowers earlier while you weren't using an air filter. You're already showing symptoms" Crosshair blinks, skims the text again. "Oh," he says quietly. He tosses the holopad onto your bunk, rubs his temples again and looks around. He can feel it now, slowly at first, gradually but steadily increasing. His body temperature is getting higher, his thoughts are getting mixed up, there is a penetrating buzzing behind his temples, and there is clearly a very physical desire. "I need you to cuff me, for your safety. Where are my handcuffs?" Crosshair hears a click, then feels cold metal. You've cuffed his own wrist and chained him to the weapon rack. "I'm ahead of you," you say softly. "Clever girl. But that won't be enough. You have to tie me up properly"
„Properly?“, you ask, frowning.
Crosshair nods and says, "Yeah, I can open handcuffs without a key if I have one hand free" You mumble with a grin, "Sneaky bastard" "Shut up, kitten," he says calmly, with a little smirk, pointing to the other bunks, "Better find something to tie me up before the symptoms get worse" Unsure, you go to the drawers and side compartments of the other bunks. You find some more handcuffs and chain his other wrist to the weapon rack on the wall. Crosshair groans softly, a bulge has already formed in his Black's pants. He is far too warm in his skin and his cock is as hard as a diamond.
For a second you just look at him, his slender, wiry but stealed figure chained to the weapons rack at the wall. His shoulders down to his hips forming an apetizing V-line. "Okay, so far so good," he says tensely, "But that's not enough" You frown, but finally get two more cable ties and tie his legs to the frame on the wall. Crosshair stands there, as if nailed to a cross or pilloried, except that it is a weapon rack that is firmly anchored to the wall. "Fuck," he moans softly. Automatically, he writhes in his restraints, his clothes, the pants of his Blacks rubbing over his hard cock, eliciting another soft moan. He is extremely sensitive at the moment.
"But what now?" you ask anxiously, straining not to look down between his legs. "I can't hurt anyone now," Crosshair says and swallows. He means you, he can't hurt you now, he can't do anything against your will, you realize. "But... We have to do something, you could die or suffer permanent damage from this condition," you say nervously. You can see that he can barely think straight, that he would love to tear himself away if he could. But he smiles at you and says, "You're not worried about me, are you?" "Of course I'm worried", you say, almost indignant he might question this. He licks his lips, his mind a jumble of images of nudity, physical contact, of him sinking his cock inside you, in pretty much any of your holes that would do. Crosshair blinks a few times, trying to collect himself. "Well, you can help me now, but on your terms. I can't force you to do anything, that was important to me. Hence, the shackles. It was clear to both of us long ago that I still need your help now. Unless you want me to die, or my mind to turn in to a vegetable" Heat rises in your cheeks. You've imagined being with him so many times, but not like this.
He laughs softly as a drop of sweat rolls off his forehead. "Now you can live out some of the fantasies you love to write about. Honestly, I always knew you had a naughty spirit in you" The thought, the question of how much he has really read of your stories and perhaps even diary entries that are on the same data pad, comes to mind. You swallow and look at him, chained there. Your gaze does wander down to the enormous bulge in his blacks. You hear him purr, "Okay kitten, your attention is already going in the right direction" He strains against his restraints, automatically wanting to reach for you, but to no avail. A small frustrated growl comes out of his throat as he realizes once again that he is not able to touch you right now. No matter what you do now, no matter what you're both about to do, this isn't going to be romantic, nothing loving, that much you both realize. But contrary to your expectations, the thought doesn't repel you, actually, there's something appealingly wicked about it. As you sink to your knees in front of him, a shiver runs through his body in aroused anticipation. He can barely move, only his pelvis has a little room to move forward, and he stretches out towards you in invitation. "Be a good girl, help me"
You look up at him uncertainly, in his gaze you not only find confirmation of what you are about to do, it is a feverishly hot gaze, full of expectation and challenge with which Crosshair looks down at you. You reach for the waistband of his Blacks' pants and slowly pull them down. As the fabric brushes over his skin, over his hard cock as you free it, he trembles excitedly. It stands right in front of your face, thick, veiny, with a slightly reddened, swollen tip. His testicles are bulging. His cock twitches with every breath you take, because he can feel every waft of air. "Do it," he demands in a smoky voice, his eyes glazed over with desire, "suck me good" You wonder how he would talk to you at a moment like this if he wasn't under the influence of the pollen, but only for a second. You've always been curious about a sexual encounter with Crosshair, and his cock looks gorgeous. Your hand reaches for it automatically, and you're almost shocked at how red-hot it feels. His temperature is rising, no time to hesitate. Your tongue twitches over his velvety, swollen tip, catching a salty drop of pre-cum. "Fuck," Crosshair growls, his pelvis twitching, "come on, kitten, it's getting unbearably hot under my skin"
You don't think about it for long. Your lips open, your tongue outstretched, pressed against the underside of his cock, you take him into your mouth. Your head moves back and forth, bobbing back and forth with his cock between your lips. At first, you're so far back that, despite his relative freedom of movement with his pelvis, he has no control over how deep he penetrates your mouth. But it feels surprisingly wonderful, the sounds he makes, moaning, growling, whimpering. You can feel your panties getting wet and a tingling sensation between your thighs. Your pearl swells, pulsating gently at first, but demanding, longing to be touched, stimulated. On impulse, you move closer, giving him more room to move. As soon as he realizes that he can penetrate deeper on his own, he greedily pushes his cock deeper into your mouth, down your throat, almost to the hilt. Your eyes immediately start to water, but you don't pull back, you let him have his way with your mouth. He pulls his pelvis back and forth, thrusting deep again and again until your face is wet with tears and saliva drips from your chin because you can't swallow everything around his thick cock. Crosshair stares down at you, his gaze full of fire, glassy and dark.
He gasps excitedly, "I knew there was a dirty thing somewhere inside you, look at you eagerly sucking my cock. I wish I could record this, so I could watch it over and over again, how perfect this image looks" You don't have the time or the opportunity to object, nor do you want to. Your hand automatically slips into your pants and under the fabric of your panties. You can feel the heat emanating from your pubic area on your fingertips even before you touch your clit. There it is, finally, the touch, a shiver runs through your body. The touch your pearl has been longing for. Your fingertips glide over the sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, as Crosshair's cock pushes up to the gag reflex again and again. You keep sucking at him, almost hungrily, like there is no tomorrow. Crosshair fucks your mouth restlessly, his pelvis shaking with every thrust, his arms tugging at the handcuffs again and again. Then he sees your hand in your pants, something about the sight pulls him over the edge, with a low growl, he spurts his load down your throat. You swallow hastily as he leaves your mouth and take a deep breath.
"A good little dirty thing you are. Look at you, not only did you suck my cock like an addict, you touched yourself" His gaze is still glassy, feverish, full of heat, a dangerous, knowing grin on his face. "Untie me, kitten, and I'll give you what your little pussy needs," he coos. His words roll over your skin and down into your pussy, where they trigger a pulsing, demanding twitch. Contrary to any fear or uncertainty about his condition, you cut the cable ties on his ankles. Then you grab the key for the handcuffs, you hesitate only briefly, barely noticeably, but then you unlock the handcuffs. You don't even have time to be surprised. Crosshair immediately peels you out of your clothes, partially tearing them as he loses his patience. He pushes you towards the bunk in front of you until you automatically climb onto it on all fours to avoid falling over. "That's it, keep sticking your gorgeous ass up, show me your little pussy," he growls in a smoky voice.
With the flat of his hand, he gives you a gentle pat between your legs. "There it is," he coos contentedly, "soft, warm and wet" One of his fingers slides along your velvety folds to your heated opening and sinks greedily inside. You moan as he sinks a second finger between your slick walls. "You're hungry for my cock, aren't you?" You moan a yes as you thrust your buttocks towards him. All you hear from him in response is a growl. You feel him pull his fingers from you and as you look over your shoulder, you see him licking your juices from his knuckles. "Actually, I'd love to lick your little honey pot, but I just can't wait, I can't," Crosshair says a little breathlessly as he parts your wet folds with his tip and with a smooth thrust fills your pussy to the brim with his cock. The sensation is intense, his hard, thick length filling you up, stretching your wet hole.
His fingers claw into your hips, not exactly gently, as he begins to move, pulling his pelvis back only to thrust into you again. He moans and curses, the feel of your wet heat enveloping him so incredibly intense, his cock so incredibly, unusually sensitive. His grip, his nails, are sure to leave a mark, but you're far too horny to mind. His thrusts are short, he never pulls far out of you, but he thrusts into you quickly, panting, clutching at you. His pelvis slaps your backside again and again, the sound fills the room, accompanied by moans, growls, whimpers. Crosshair doesn't feel like his temperature is dropping, he's more in control than he expected, but his hunger hasn't abated one bit. He growls, gives you a slap on the ass and murmurs, "You like that, you've always wanted my cock inside you" You are so lost in your excitement that at first you don't even realize what he is saying. When you don't answer immediately, he grabs your neck and pulls you towards him so that the back of your head is against his shoulder.
"Say it!" he growls, his hand still on your neck. Crosshair doesn't really squeeze, just applies enough pressure to make it clear that he wants your attention. "What?" you ask hoarsely, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you again and again taking over your entire mind. "You've always wanted my cock inside you. Say it! I want to hear it," he moans urgently. You gasp. "Fuck. Yes, I've always wanted your cock inside me, deep inside me," you croak, moaning. You yelp as he gives you a particularly hard, deep thrust and pauses in this position for a few seconds. His thighs tremble for a moment, a half-suppressed moan comes from his throat, then you feel his semen shoot into you. You're both breathing heavily, Crosshair growls softly. "Still feverish, still hard, I guess I'll have to make your wet dreams come true a little longer"
He pushes you off him, onto the bunk you're kneeling on, and turns you around, gripping your hips. Crosshair grabs the back of your knees to hold your legs up and apart. The next second, he's thrusting his cock into you again, accompanied by the dirty, wet sound his hard length makes in your pussy filled with your juices and his seed. Each thrust makes that lewd, wet sound, you feel his seed and your juices partially dripping out of you, onto your buns and onto the sheet beneath you. After all, you're in your own bunk. But this fact startles you all the more as Crosshair reaches purposefully to his right and pulls open a small drawer. He pulls out a small object and grins with satisfaction. "I knew you had toys here, I heard them vibrating under your blanket the other night" He moves his cock slowly inside you as he looks at the toy, and the heat of shame rises in your face. "What exactly does that thing do?" he wants to know, his gaze fascinated but still feverish, glassy. You swallow and say meekly, "It sucks the clitoris into this little opening and vibrates as it does so"
He raises his eyebrows and looks past the toy at you. "Is that good?" "My favorite toy," you say, still meekly. He looks down, positions the toy so that it can suck your clit perfectly and turns it on, turning the power up quite high. The toy sucks in your clit and vibrates on the sensitive bundle of nerves, immediately sending a pulse through your whole body. You let out a startled squeak. In combination with his thick cock inside you, the additional stimulation from the toy is very intense. Your hands claw into the mattress and sheets as he starts to thrust into you again. "Fuuuuck," you moan out. Crosshair takes you again faster, harder and growls, "That's more like it"
Your mind dissolves into nothing, the thought of how he sees you right now, that he knows about the toy, that he knows you've been secretly masturbating here under the covers, all swept away in one swoop. The stimulation is too intense, your whole body vibrates, trembles, tenses with arousal. "You're close," he moans, realizing, "I can feel your sweet pussy contracting" The stimulation, his words, the sound of his voice, all at once your climax washes you over the edge, and you fall into a pulsating tangle of over-stimulation. Automatically, you want to reach for the toy to remove it, but Crosshair's hands shoot forward, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. "Fuck! Crosshair, that's too much, the toy!" you gasp breathlessly, twitching and writhing, the sensation far too intense.
He pushes himself deeper into your lap, takes you faster, with shorter, firmer thrusts. He stares at you, something about the way you squirm and twitch, the thought that you are helplessly at the mercy of this over-stimulation turns him on. It doesn't take long, his thrusts become irregular, his lap trembles between your twitching thighs, and he cums inside you again. You're still whimpering and squirming, finally he lets go of you, and before you can remove it, Crosshair releases you from the toy. You breathe heavily, sighing with relief. You look up, his gaze no longer glassy and feverish, more scrutinizing, brooding, as you know him to be. "Sorry," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "but it was incredibly hot to have you under me while you were twitching under the over-stimulation, one hell of a turn on." You roll your eyes and sigh, "I'm glad you enjoyed it" "You had your fun too, didn't you?" he growls sarcastically, "Or did you just get me untied to see what would happen?"
You can almost feel an argument brewing, but you don't want to argue, especially not now. You try to distract him. "How are you feeling now? Headache, fever?" Crosshair senses that you're trying to avoid the discussion, but he answers you anyway, "I'm fine, I think, no fever, no headache, no other symptoms either." You nod, climb out of the bunk and say, "Good, I need to use the refresher for a while, I need to clean myself up" But Crosshair blocks your path to the refresher. You hastily grab your bathrobe and put it on as you realize you're both still naked. "You haven't answered me yet," he says stubbornly. "What?" "Whether you had fun"
You clear your throat and say, "I had an orgasm, if that's what you mean" Crosshair frowns. "No, that's not what I meant, at least not exclusively." You lick your lips and avoid his gaze, but he gently but firmly grabs your chin, yet your eyes continue to avoid his. "Kitten? Look at me." His voice sounds so unusually gentle that you automatically look at him. "I just want to be sure that I didn't overstep any boundaries and that you didn't come away unsatisfied, as you know I didn't really have complete control over what happened." You look at him wide-eyed, then feel heat rising in your cheeks as you say meekly, "I had more fun than I want to admit"
A smile creeps onto his face. "I knew that. Good girl. Come on now, let us go wash you" You raise your eyebrows questioningly. "Us?" Crosshair grabs your hand and pulls you into the refresher with him. He winks at you, "We made the mess together, so let's remove it together. Come on, don't act like you don't want to be sponge-washed by me"
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@rintheemolion
@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99
@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310
@misogirl828 @tech-deck
@meshla-madalene
@chxpsi
@thebahdbitch
@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri
@darkangel4121
@ttzamara
@arctrooper69
@padawancat97
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@allsystemsblue
@palliateclaw
@either-madness-or-brilliance
@ortizshinkaroff
@andy-solo1
@hunterssecretrecipe
@heyitsaloy
@greaser-wolf
@extrahotpixels
@hated-by-me
@hunterxcrosshair
@malicemercy
@bebopsworld
@echos-girlfriend
@cpnt616
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@pb-jellybeans
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@sleepycreativewriter
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@1vlouds
@clonelovr
313 notes · View notes
bring-backup-99 · 8 days
Text
Before It Gets Too Late
PAIRING: tech x fem reader
SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)
WORDS COUNT: 1926
RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics
NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.
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Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.
So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.
For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”
“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.
“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.
“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.
He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.
“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”
“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.
“That is not what it is called.”
“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”
“I was contemplating something similar.”
He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.
“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.
“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.
“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”
“That…is acceptable.”
*
Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.
Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.
“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.
“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.
Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.
He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.
Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.
“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.
“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”
* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.
“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”
You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.
“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?
“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.
“No,” you agree.
Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.
*
You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.
Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.
“Tech?” You call up.
“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”
“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.
There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”
You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.
“What’s this all about?”
Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”
You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.
“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”
“Skeptical? Why?”
“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”
You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.
This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.
You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.
And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.
You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”
Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.
You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.
He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.
And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.
“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”
“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”
“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.
“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.
“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.
* But wait, there’s more: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3945640
102 notes · View notes
grampsoninspace · 11 months
Text
doctor’s orders.
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Please, don’t let it be him.
Please no…
Please!
“Good evening,” a warm voice interrupts your silent pleading with whatever force is listening. There’s strain in the usual honeyed tone, which jerks your chin upward with an invisible string. Your panicked thoughts are replaced by your emergency mode, your hands trembling with adrenaline at the pain in the man’s voice.
“What did you do now?” you hiss, assessing the patient visually before you even get close to him, watching blood drip steadily from a wound just shy of his temple.
Captain Howzer smiles up at you with mischief in his brown eyes.
“I got a little too close to the action, Doc,” he shrugs.
“How many times do I have to tell you? The blood belongs inside of your body, Captain. For Maker’s sake, can we go a single week without you risking life and limb for the nearest being?” You pull your gloves on with an angry snap.
“Well… it is my job,” he tells you, trying to sound the slightest bit remorseful and failing miserably.
“I don’t care if it’s your job — it’s going to be a little hard to do it if you’re dead,” you shake your head, starting to remove his armor to assess the rest of him.
“You’re fussing again,” Howzer’s voice drops in octave and volume, much too near your ear.
“Well, that is my job,” you mimic his accent poorly, daring to look back into his eyes as you remove his chest plate.
His full lips are twisted in the faintest smile, and he is watching your every move. You roll your eyes but you can feel yourself blush, choosing instead to focus on removing his pauldrons, gauntlets, and gloves.
“I know... I like it when you fuss over me,” he leans forward and yanks the top of his blacks off with one hand, exposing his skin down to his waist.
You turn back to face him and remind yourself with a deep breath and a mental lashing that you are a fucking professional and you will do your job without incident or…
Or…?
What were you saying?
“Well?” he prompts.
“Hm?” you raise your eyebrows, pretending you were listening.
He leans back with his palms flat on the exam table, his knees farther apart than you remember. “I asked you a question.”
“Which was?” you ask, frowning, silently cursing yourself.
“I asked what your diagnosis was,” he smirks.
“I don’t know yet,” you rub your forehead with the back of your hand. “I need to get your head cleaned up first. Do you feel pain or discomfort anywhere else?”
“No pain…” His smile is teasing. “But I still expect a thorough examination. I could be in shock.”
You give him a look. “Behave yourself, Captain.”
Howzer holds his hands up. “I’m just asking you to do your job, Doc. I wouldn’t expect any less but the closest attention to detail when you’re in charge.”
You swallow, and he won’t look away from your eyes — even as you start to gently clean the wound on his forehead and he sucks in a breath through his teeth, grabbing your wrist roughly and trying to pull your hand away.
Your stomach flips but you give him a stern look.
“Captain. When I said to behave yourself, I clearly meant you need to allow me to do my job.”
“Warn me next time,” he growls, releasing you.
“I did!” You smack his hand down. “I told you I had to clean your head…”
“Oh, that’s what you meant,” he smirks up at you as you continue removing the blood from his skin. You press harder in retaliation and he grabs both of your wrists.
“Stop being belligerent or I’ll let you fuckin’ bleed to death,” you tell him through gritted teeth.
“Which one happens first?” he asks, your wrists still bound in the shackles of his rough hands.
“What—?” you ask, scrunching up your face.
“You said you’d let me fuck and bleed to death,” he repeats, pulling you forward and tugging your hands behind his back so your face is much too close to his.
“Do you think it could be in that order?” he drops his voice down deep and low, his breath warm on your skin.
“You know damn well I did not say that,” you tell him, trying to sound sure of yourself, but your voice shakes.
“Do I?” he asks, searching your face with his dilated eyes.
“Should I check your hearing?” you ask sharply, but his gaze lands on your lips.
“What?” he jokes, and you sigh in his face.
“Captain.”
His eyes flick to yours, and he leans back just enough to let your hips rest in the V his legs have made. “Say my name, and I’ll be good for you.”
“This is very unprofessional behavior,” you frown.
“I’m no snitch,” he whispers. “Besides, is it against protocol for you to use your patient’s name?”
“Of course not,” you sigh again. “But I’m using your title as a sign of respect, just as I would do with anyone else.”
“And I love that about you, but I wanna hear you say my name,” he grips your wrists harder, gives you a little yank, and you arch into him involuntarily.
“Captain Howzer…” you say, trying to keep your tone even and clinical.
“Close,” he smiles but shakes his head. “But no. Just say my name, and I’ll behave.”
You take a deep breath, knowing he’s absolutely full of shit without running a single test to prove it.
“Howzer…” you say in a low voice, your temple pressed against his. He hums low in his throat, and the vibration of it in his chest seems to travel wherever your body is touching his.
You let your lips brush his ear: “Can you please allow me to finish my exam now?”
“Yes ma’am,” he rumbles, letting go of your wrists and planting his hands on the edge of the table again.
His eyes are closed and he keeps very still as you clean his head wound, patching it with bacta and exploring the rest of the lines in his face, running your fingers over the deep scar on his cheek.
“Field medic work,” he smiles, leaning into your touch. “Didn’t have your finesse.”
“Doesn’t change anything,” you blurt out quietly.
His eyes slide open and they are darker than a starless night. “Hm?”
“You know,” you frown, pushing his face to the side to check his neck and shoulders with careful hands.
“What do I know?” he asks, his cheek twitching with how badly he’s trying not to smirk. “What doesn’t the field medic’s work change?”
You sigh roughly in the back of your throat as you move around the table to check his back. “Your… face.”
“Oh, because every clone has the same one?” he asks, a defensive lilt to his teasing.
“No!” you poke him in the shoulder blade, hard.
“Then what?” he twists, to try to make you look at him again, but you push him forward.
“What did you promise me?” you frown. “Be still, Howzer.”
He inhales deeply and sits up with perfectly straight posture. You run your hands down his spine, then press your fingers where you know injured organs would reveal tender spots. He doesn’t flinch, but you don’t know if that’s his training or an actual lack of pain. Nothing seems out of place, but knowing him, he’s probably hiding something.
“Get up,” you pat his shoulder.
He obeys, standing perfectly at attention.
And as you help him remove his lower armor, it’s very apparent that he’s not the only one.
You instantly blush, despite having seen countless human bodies in all different contexts… your whole body flushes with warmth which travels between your legs. You’re removing his knee pads and the feelings you’re having are so improper you feel yourself blushing harder with shame…
“Sorry Doc,” he says quietly. “Natural reaction.”
“To what?” you blurt out, looking up from your kneeling position into his face.
He smirks. “I think we both know you know the answer to that… You’re a doctor. You know how the human body functions in these situations…”
You shake your head. “I’m making sure you’re not going to die of internal injuries, Howzer. I’m not doing anything to try and…cause this.”
“Don’t have to,” he says, low and rough. “You just are.”
Your fingers are still on his thigh, just about to get him to lift his foot to let you remove his boot, when you stop and feel your jaw go slack.
“Please stand up,” he asks. You oblige him, and he sits back up on the exam table, obediently removing his boots for you without breaking eye contact once. You swallow around your dry throat, taking in the sight of him there in nothing but the bottom half of his blacks, which he’s now standing again to remove.
Howzer sits back up on the exam table in just his dark briefs, which — despite their color — are not doing much to hide the topic of your discussion.
Why do I want it in my mouth?
Your eyes are wide when you meet his gaze again, thankful beyond belief that he can’t read your mind. But he smiles softly like he can.
Why is that a thought I’m having right now, when I should be making sure he isn’t in any more pain?
You try to snap out of it, distracting yourself by looking fo contusions or abrasions, any signs of internal injuries or dislocated bones… You put your gloved hand on his thigh to inspect a discoloration there and his body reacts visibly to your touch.
“Howzer…” you whisper, “Should I stop?”
“Please don’t,” he breathes, reaching out to grip the wrist closest to his bare skin.
“I… I need you to stand up and turn around,” you tell him quietly, and he does as he’s told, letting you peruse the backs of his legs and the bottoms of his feet.
When he turns around again, he’s mere inches from your body, his muscles taut and his face hyper-focused on yours.
“I don’t see any other… problems,” you swallow, your voice barely audible. “You’re free to dress and go now.”
“But I don’t want to,” he shrugs, lifting his hands to cradle your face.
He doesn’t kiss you.
He brushes his nose against yours, touches your foreheads together, rubs his cheekbone up and down your cheek.
You can feel the rough texture of the skin on his face and let a soft sound escape your careful throat.
Howzer locks onto that sound like a heat-seeking missile, pressing his hand gently to your throat and repeating the motion he thinks you liked — his cheek pressed to yours.
You whimper lightly, just barely audible, and he loses his careful control to what he wants most.
He kisses you so hard it snaps your head back; you gasp into his mouth and he takes that as an invitation, exploring inside with his tongue. He only breaks the seal your lips have made to let you breathe, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw and down your neck, hungrily making his way down to taste as much of your skin as he can reach.
His hands move from your face and neck to unbutton your uniform coat, pushing it down off your shoulders onto the floor, sliding his long fingers under the shirt you wear beneath.
“I want this off,” he tells you, and you nod your permission, lifting your arms to let him strip you from the waist up.
He removes your bra so quickly and easily it gives you the slightest moment of hesitation and doubt, wondering how many women he’s collected inside the warmth of his body just like this. But his hands are holding your breasts and his tongue is in your mouth again, and you quickly forget your fears. His fingers travel down to the waistband of your pants, and you don’t think you’ve ever taken them off so quickly in your entire lifetime.
“Fuck,” he whispers, looking at you in nothing but your underwear. “You’re perfect.”
“Prove it,” you tease him. “You get naked first.”
He smiles at you with bright eyes, yanking his underwear down and hopping up to lie back on the exam table with his arms behind his head, all too comfortable.
“What’s the verdict, Doc?” he asks, eyes closed, body stretched out for your (scientific) inspection.
You remove your gloves and run your fingertips from his broad shoulders to his hip bones, watching his dick twitch at the attention of your hands.
“I think you’re perfectly…healthy, Captain,” you tell him, your eyes landing on the glorious thickness he’s been hiding in those briefs.
Howzer props himself up on one elbow, turning just enough to ripple more muscles like a statue carved of some ancient god from another galaxy.
“Your turn,” he drawls, gesturing with his finger toward your underwear, and you shake your head.
“Oh now that’s just not fair,” he crows, climbing back down off the exam table and putting his hands on your hips, changing tactics.
“Do you want me to take them off for you?” he gives you a half-smile, his eyes blazing a path from your bare breasts to the fabric between him and his goal.
You nod slowly, pushing your hips just slightly forward as he dips his thumbs in the band around your waist.
“I need to hear you say it,” he says quietly.
“Please take them off,” you try to whisper, but it comes out like a whine. He looks into your eyes expectantly, wiggling his thumbs but not moving his hands any more than that.
“Howzer…” you groan. “Please.”
“That’s better,” he pushes your underwear to the floor and runs his hands back up your legs as you step out. “Isn’t it?”
He kisses you again, softer this time but no less hungry, pulling you back with him onto the exam table. He wraps his arms around you until you’re flush on top of him, nipping at your lips and running his hands all over your body, seeking friction by pressing his hips up into yours…
“Would you like to ride me, sweetheart?” he rasps, his erection pressed against your hip, his heart pounding in his chest against yours. “Because I’d like nothing more than to see you get on top and use me however you want.”
You know your face must look like you’re in pain, the need for him so strong it feels like your heart could stop. You move your knees apart and brace yourself, letting him help you to a more upright position, crawling back until you’re hovering right above him.
You look into his eyes as you guide him to your entrance, inhaling shakily as you feel the tip slide past your resistance, shoving your knees farther apart and dropping slowly to take him deeper. His eyes practically roll back in his head the farther down you go, groaning low in his throat when he’s fully sheathed inside of you.
The two of you stay very still for a long moment, just breathing while you both adjust. When you start to move on him, he looks up at you heavy-lidded and reaches up to grope your breasts, moaning a bit as you sink your fingernails into his shoulders trying to find a rhythm you both like. You roll your hips and grip him good as you do, filthy curses escaping his swollen lips with every thrust.
Howzer lifts his knees slightly to support you, gripping your hips tight as you ride him hard, forgetting every reason you shouldn’t be doing this as you lose yourself to the feeling of him inside of you as his hands explore your ass.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this?” he asks roughly, one hand gripping your ass, the other running up your back to grab a fistful of your hair. You shake your head, unable to form cohesive thoughts as you move on him faster, your need for him only increasing the harder you fuck him.
He sits up suddenly, spreading his legs and bending his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and staring right in your eyes as he fucks you right back.
You run your hands through his hair, rubbing the fuzz where his head is shaved and crying out as he hits the perfect spot while holding you this close.
“Since day one,” he rasps. “I’ve wanted you like this since I first met you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about taking you right here, just like this…”
He grunts as you clench around him, wetter than ever and panting his name, blissfully close to him making you cum in his lap right on your fucking exam table.
“Fuck me, Howzer,” you beg him, all sense of propriety lost in the lustful haze clouding your brain and flooding your body with heat. “Please just fuck me.”
“No, baby,” he denies you. “I want this to last.”
“But I’m so close,” you whine, pushing him down on his back and riding him harder.
He moves his hand from your hip to press his fingertips to your clit, not bothering to move them with how quickly your hips are rocking, and your head rolls loosely on your neck as your back arches. You bite your lip to keep from screaming as he drags the orgasm right out of you with his lazy fingers and his ridiculously perfect cock.
“Howzer, I can’t, I’m gonna…” you whine, and he pulls himself up again, locking eyes with you as he feels you hit your threshold, a strangled moan slipping out of you as he keeps you close while you cum.
“Come on, baby,” he coaxes as you start to slow your movements to a near-stop, “Are we done already?”
“Sit up,” you tell him, climbing off of him and the table, kneeling and watching him swing his legs over the side.
“Am I already due for another exam—” he chokes on his teasing remark as you take his leaking dick into the tight wetness of your mouth, rolling your tongue underneath him and hollowing your cheeks.
“Fucking Maker,” Howzer groans, his hands instantly tangling in your hair, hips bucking toward your face. “You keep that up and I’m not going to last much longer either.”
Your only reply is to bob your head, taking him deeper toward your throat with each motion, using your hands to grip what can’t fit inside your mouth.
“Oh sweet fuck,” he growls, turning into an absolute mess as you stare up into his eyes while you suck him off. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and he’s trying so hard to let you do what you want, but you can feel him throbbing and you know he’s ready to lose it.
“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want me to cum, but you’d better decide fast,” he rasps, his eyes squeezing shut.
You keep him in your mouth, but pull back just enough to swirl your tongue around his already-sensitive tip. He groans and shoves his dick deeper in your mouth, yanking your head back by the hair as he loses control. He cums down your throat with a series of grunts and moans your name when he’s finally finished. You swallow every drop, content to lick him lazily until he groans and tugs on your hair to make you stop, guiding your face back up to his.
“You’re mine now, I hope you know,” he growls in your ear, his scarred cheek pressed to yours as he does.
You nod in agreement, feeling his fingers slip between your legs again as he kisses you gently at first…
But you make sure to call him “Captain” when he makes you cum the second time, with nothing but his tongue.
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starrylothcat · 6 months
Note
hi Starry! if I may slide in with a request for:
❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜
with our darling Commander Cody please! ☀️
A Little Trust
Pairing: Cody x Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Female receiving fingering. Cody being a little dom. Established relationship/everything consensual.
WC: ~700
A/N: Sev!!!!! Oh you may, lovely dear! Because of this request I’m back on my Cody Hours, so please enjoy this thotty drabble. 🫡
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“C-Cody…” you panted, face pressed firmly into the desk, your hands clenching the edge for dear life.
“Please…” You were begging now, trying to save face but when the Marshal Commander had two fingers deep inside you, you were bound to break eventually.
“What was that?” Cody hummed, lazily pumping his fingers in and out. His other hand was squeezing and kneading the flesh of your ass, his fingers and palm intent on leaving marks for you to remember him by later.
You always forget how thick his fingers are until he has them inside you, spreading you and brushing against the spot that made your body spasm, much to Cody’s delight.
Drool was pooling on his desk, your mouth agape from the pleasure he was bringing you from just his digits.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, needing his cock or mouth on your soaked pussy, you felt a third finger begin its way inside you.
“C-Cody! I…so much…” You gasped into the desk, unsure if a third finger would fit when you already felt so full.
Cody slowed his fingers, now rubbing small circles on the swell of your ass.
“Have a little trust in yourself,”
His voice was low, commanding.
“I know you can take it.”
You tried your best to relax as his third finger eased its way in. Tears were running down your cheeks, mixing with the drool on the hard surface of his desk. Your knuckles were white from gripping the edge, and your legs weak.
“C-Cody!” You keened, his three fingers now seated inside you. You clenched and spasmed around them, arching back into him to get him to move, to do something.
Cody knew what you wanted, slowly pumping in and out of you. “So full…” You sighed, adjusting to the stretch.
“That’s right, mesh’la. So good for me. I knew you could do it. Have to get you ready for my cock.
You could hear the smirk in his voice, his fingers now easily sliding against your walls, sparks of pleasure running up and down your spine.
“So kriffing wet, you’re soaking.” Cody leaned down, his armor digging into your backside, keeping you in place between him and the desk.
“You’re going to come like this.” He commanded in your ear, his breath hot on your face. “Going to feel this beautiful pussy gush on my fingers, and then you’ll come on my cock. Understood?”
Your body was trembling, nodding into the desk, feeling impossibly stretched.
“Y-yes…Commander.”
Cody growled, removing his fingers from you. You whined at the loss, not given a chance to protest before he flipped you over on your back, splayed out on his desk.
He grabbed your thighs, pulling you down to the edge of his desk as he kneeled between them.
Cody slipped three digits back inside, latching his mouth onto your clit and sucking hard.
Your eyes rolled back into your head as high-pitched, broken gasps of his name were ripped from your throat. His fingers fucked in and out of you, lewd sounds filling his office.
His mouth, tongue, and lips worked you over-sensitive nub, bringing you pleasure only he knew how.
You came quickly, crashing over the edge into blinding pleasure. You clamped around his fingers, thrashing on his desk, sending flimis flying as he worked you through your ecstasy.
Cody slowed his fingers as he felt your orgasm fading, your body going limp on his desk.
The Marshal Commander slowly removed his digits from you, a mouth-watering sight that made his cock even harder against his codpiece.
“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He muttered, kissing your inner thigh before standing up to lean over you.
He kissed your temple, gently stroking your arm. Your eyes fluttered open, not even realizing you had shut them. Your eyes met his brown ones, his lips coming to yours in a passionate kiss.
“I knew you could do it, mesh’la.” He whispered against your lips, his tongue now probing your own.
You gripped the back of his hair, fingers twirling into his short locks, humming in agreement against him.
“If it was too much, we can stop-“ Cody started before his words were cut off by a strained moan as you removed his codpiece with your free hand, letting it clatter to the floor.
His blacks were barely holding back his hard length, your fingers running over the bulge. Cody let out a low rumble of pleasure, reverberating into your body as your hand gripped his cock through his blacks.
You nipped at his bottom lip, wetness pooling between your legs at the anticipation of his thick length deep inside you.
“You know I can take it, Commander.”
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Also tagging @toomanybandstocare Cody simpage 😚
Dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit
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